The Emperor's gaze lingered on Varian for a moment longer before shifting.
Then, he looked at Vane.
This wasn't the casual, inventory-taking glance from two hours ago. This was deliberate. The Emperor's mana moved first. The ambient, golden warmth of the hall—the natural byproduct of the Sun of Heaven—suddenly shifted direction, bearing down on the eastern edge where Vane stood. It wasn't an attack. It wasn't even a threat. It was simply the terrifying, overwhelming attention of something vast deciding to examine a much smaller thing up close.
Vane's survival instincts screamed before his brain could even process the danger.
He couldn't move.
But Varian did.
