"Just a little longer," he murmured. "The EL territory will be mine. And once it is secured... I will sink this island to the Surface. Then... I will join the true Kings of the Earth."
A faint hum filled the chamber. A holographic blue screen shimmered to life. On it appeared Igris, the Puppet King of Earth, draped in his regal yet mechanical robes, his expression cold.
"I've sent you reinforcements," Igris said.
From the shadows, three cloaked figures stepped forward, their faces fully concealed.
"They will obey your every command," Igris continued. "Use them well in your war against the animal tribes. But my primary concern..." His eyes narrowed. "Is that you eliminate all Artists."
Mr. Green chuckled darkly, his grin twisting beneath the shadows of his mask.
"Of course. When I am finished, only the Royal Family will remain."
A sharp knock broke the silence.
Igris screen vanished along with the three mystery figures.
"Enter," King Mr. Green commanded.
The doors opened, and the Elders of the Zeta Branch filed in, one by one. Elder Sephiss stepped forward.
"Your Highness, the Selection begins in just a few hours. As you ordered, only those from the Zoner territories will be chosen."
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Mr. Green's grin widened. "And what is the number of Zoners selected for the trial?"
Elder Fanok bowed. "Your Highness, the total chosen is two hundred and fifty, within the guidelines of the original Selection."
"Too small," King Mr. Green snapped, his voice cutting like steel. "This is to be a grand event."
The Elders exchanged uneasy glances.
Fanok cleared his throat. "What number do you wish, Your Highness?"
Mr. Green's eyes gleamed. "One thousand."
Gasps rippled across the room.
Elder Vastma stepped forward cautiously. "One thousand Zoners, Your Highness? That is... a considerable figure. Such an event could destabilize order across the districts."
Fanok nodded gravely. "Elder Vastma is correct. Organizing so many at once could cause panic. A revolt, even. The security required alone would drain our military forces."
The chamber grew silent, tension tightening the air.
Then Sephiss' voice broke it.
"Two thousand."
Both Fanok and Vastma turned to him in shock.
"Elder Sephiss?!"
Sephiss folded his hands behind his back. His eyes were calm but sharp.
"It is clear the King is ambitious. Our duty as Elders is not to restrain his will, but to inspire it. If the King desires to show power... then let him. Two thousand."
Mr. Green's grin stretched wider. "Ahhh, Sephiss. You really are my favorite." He leaned back in his throne. "I like it. Three thousand it is."
Fanok's eyes widened. "Your Highness, three thousand could create a public panic. If the imprisoned resist, it may spark rebellion, terrorist uprisings, perhaps worse. Security messures would require a pull from our military force"
Vastma added, "And with the war against the Els draining resources, this may be too great a strain. Perhaps fifteen hundred would be—"
"Enough." Sephiss' voice cracked like a whip. He stepped forward, his gaze slicing toward the other Elders.
"Your King has spoken. We are not here to question him, we are here to support him. If he says three thousand, then three thousand it shall be."
Mr. Green's laughter echoed against the walls, dark and triumphant.
"Wise words, Elder Sephiss. Loyal words. You truly are the most faithful among your peers."
He turned back toward the window, staring into the vast expanse of clouds beyond the castle walls.
"It's a trait I admire most about humans..." he whispered, his voice trailing into something almost inhuman.
Sephiss' eyes narrowed. His face betrayed no words, but deep in his chest lingered a flicker of unease.