The harsh, sterile white light radiating from the alien decryption drive cast long, unnatural shadows across the Royal Laboratory. It was a cold illumination, entirely devoid of the warm, pulsing vitality that characterised the elemental magic of their world. Crown Prince Jules remained leaning heavily over the massive oak table, his green eyes locked onto the smooth glass screen as the device continued to translate the corrupted, dead language extracted from Zed's obsidian tablets.
The silence in the room was absolute, heavy with the weight of the terrifying revelation they had just unearthed.
