In the circular room, every alchemical pattern on the Dome was lit.
Multicolored light intertwined across the ceiling, flowing slowly. The entire room was illuminated down to the finest detail.
The round table was covered with blueprints and instruments.
Copper Pipes connected several dials, their needles trembling faintly.
Arthur Heinz stood behind the round table.
His hair was gray-white, his features stern, and his dark gray robe impeccably tailored.
The golden badge at his collar reflected a cold gleam beneath the Dome's light.
A spread-winged eagle, clutching an unrolled book beneath its talons.
He watched eight people enter. His gaze swept over Klaus, paused briefly on the Guardian, and then he slowly straightened.
"Please, have a seat."
Arthur gestured toward the chairs around the round table, his tone neither servile nor overbearing.
No one sat down.
Klaus stood opposite the round table, his hands in his pockets and his expression blank.
Leike stood behind and to Klaus's right.
He had short brown hair, a gaunt face, and was much shorter, reaching only Klaus's chest. He stood quietly without saying a word.
Two hooded Night Watchers stood on either side.
Their robes hung to their feet, their hoods pulled so low their faces could not be seen.
If not for the occasional faint rustle of fabric, one could almost forget they were there.
The Guardian stood farthest away.
His head was full of white hair, and a black aura enveloped his entire body. The Black Eyeballs that continually surfaced and vanished across him reflected the Dome's radiance, eerie and silent.
Kame stood at Arthur's side.
The Vice Dean looked much calmer than he had at the door earlier, but the muscles at the back of his neck remained tightly drawn.
Calvin Morton and the female instructor stood farther back.
The cold