Suspect

Hung leaned forward slightly, his voice calm but carrying the weight of expectancy. "Nyxander," he began, his words slicing through the air like the first crack of a storm, "why don't you become the fifth Astro leader?"

A heavy silence settled over the official table, suffocating, absolute. It stood in stark contrast to the distant murmurs of subordinates still receiving their resource rewards, oblivious to the brewing tempest among their leaders.

Nyxander allowed a faint smile to curl his lips, his eyes glinting with a knowing sharpness. "So, you want me to absorb all those rough fighters under my control?" He leaned back slightly, his posture unreadable, yet each movement carried a deliberate ease, as if he had expected this all along.