(Third-person perspective)
Unknown underground tombs
In the center of a dimly lit, circular chamber, a person dressed in pristine white sat on seven throne-like chairs, surrounding a large round table made of gleaming black stone. Despite the ancient atmosphere of the room, the surfaces were spotless. The walls were constructed of obsidian-like stone, their surfaces carved with intricate patterns and elaborate ritual carvings.
The solemn atmosphere abruptly ceased when the door to the secret chamber was pushed open. Two women and a man strode in, their voices loud and their argument heated. The man was burly, sculpted like a statue, his skin a deep, dark black, exuding healthy vitality. Though short, robust, and strong, not an ounce of excess fat could be found on his muscular physique. His dark brown armor was clearly sleeveless, yet it revealed his thick, powerful arms.
One of the women was elderly yet imposing; her snow-white headdress did nothing to diminish her dignity and aura. The other woman wore bright red armor, and her long, fiery red hair was tied into a long braid that reached her waist, making her quite eye-catching.
After sitting down at the stone table, the man in white asked the old woman a question.
Why did you convene this meeting?
Her answer was quick and direct.
"What about the others?"
The red-haired woman interjected, her tone laced with disdain.
"Do you really expect those strange creatures to appear before us? They're probably engrossed in their mysterious entertainment."
The old woman's tone changed, her voice filled with despair. Pointing at the red-haired woman, she revealed a shocking piece of information. "Do you know what she did? To cover up the Druid ' presence, she ruthlessly slaughtered all my men."
The dark-skinned man frowned, questioning her actions.
Why did you resort to this method?
The red-haired woman interjected, her impatience obvious.
"Because I'm incredibly bored! Because of the two of you."
She pointed to the dark-skinned man and the man in white and continued speaking. She turned to the man in white.
"You corrupted Azor Ahai before I even faced him. After he sacrificed his wife for power, he became an empty shell!"
She turned to the dark-skinned man. "You also annihilated one of the greatest empires without informing me. I eagerly awaited that war."
Her frustration reached its peak, and she slammed her fist on the stone table, which shattered instantly and then miraculously repaired itself.
"Why did I agree to join forces with you? It wasn't for mere sustenance; I simply crave the exhilarating experience of the battlefield. Let me clarify—if you interfere with him before he reaches his full potential, I will fight you, even to the death. If I am deprived of a worthy opponent, then I will gladly duel with all of you."
She continued to pound the stone table with her fists, throwing a tantrum like a child.
"I'm so bored!!"
The old woman tried to reason with her.
"Why are you so reckless? He might be the new champion of this plane's true god."
The red-haired woman remained unmoved and retorted without compromise.
"Very well, I hope he is. Even if he is the champion, what difference does it make? We need war and chaos. To establish his own existence, he must confront the followers of the Seven. Isn't that what we desire?"
"That's what the dark-skinned man said."
"Even if we don't intervene, she, as the goddess closest to Westeros, has already suffered insults directed at her servants. Do you really believe she would ignore such an offense?"
The red-haired woman scoffed at him.
"Unless Druid shows up at her doorstep, she'll remain unmoved. She doesn't care about anyone. If he can't unify Westeros and defeat her, I won't care about such a weakling."
The old woman's tone was filled with indignation as she pleaded, "Are you inciting her to perish?"
The red-haired woman's answer was clear.
"No, I'm expressing my indifference. Don't pretend to care about each other, because none of us feel that way. Whenever we set foot in a new world, our alliance is for the purpose of suppressing the native gods. I'm just stating it bluntly: if any of you suffer annihilation, I will be unmoved. I know you feel the same way. So, keep your crocodile tears to yourself."
The man in white interjected thoughtfully. "What if you also died at his hands? Would you be indifferent to your own death?"
"That's true," she said definitively.
"Although I might be annoyed when I return to my true form, and perhaps even cause destruction to this planet, I'll eventually go elsewhere for adventures and start a new game. Why are you all acting as if this is our final destination? This is just a station with a game in progress."
The dark-skinned man joined in, raising a crucial question, "Should we refrain from interfering before he usheres in a new order?"
After considering the arguments presented, the man in white offered a pragmatic perspective.
"Her point is indeed valid. If we don't intervene, we'll let him sow the seeds of war and chaos, which is in our interest until he establishes order. Only then will we have a reason to intervene."
The group made a decision. The red-haired woman, with a touch of nostalgia, recalled a bygone era and sighed, "I long for that time."
"I yearn for the heroic age, an age in which powerful life roams freely, where every day is filled with arduous struggles and epic battles. I long for another grand confrontation and am determined to make it happen. Allow me to make it clear to you: if any of you intend to send servants to Westeros, consider the consequences, for I have long been indulging in this sumptuous feast, and I need not tear every piece from its bones. All I desire is the glorious battle to come, nothing more."
The red-haired woman reminisced about past battles, revealing a deep-seated longing for combat.
"I miss the Dawn Emperor," she murmured. "They say you'll never forget your first time. That's absolutely true; I still remember that day standing before his body."
She gently stroked a noticeable scar running from her neck to her chest and continued speaking.
Perhaps I should cherish that moment even more, because he is the only person who has given me such a great Gift.
Recalling that battle, a tender smile appeared on her lips, "Recalling that battle still fills me with fervor. None of his descendants could rival him. With each generation, they weakened. It took us thousands of years, but with the help of our dear sister, we corrupted that jealous weakling and ended their dynasty. Mortals, ignorant as they were, believed themselves to be the victors."
After concluding this grand literary contest, the creatures departed the meeting hall, their intentions clear. As they ventured into human territory, they would continue to stir up trouble, orchestrate chaos and conflict in the shadows until the time was ripe for their intervention.