Heir of The Romero

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The room was silent.

A suffocating, heavy silence that pressed against my chest, making every breath I took feel like a chore.

I sat at the head of the obsidian table, staring at the massive holographic screen in front of me.

Faces flickered across it—rulers, sovereigns, emperors—leaders of the greatest empires in this world.

And yet, not a single one of us looked powerful.

Fear, frustration, and an unspoken sense of helplessness lingered in the air.

We all knew why we were here.

I locked my fingers against each other and rested my chin upon them, keeping my expression stoic.

"The signs are undeniable," I said, my voice cutting through the silence. "We no longer have the luxury of doubt."