Khamal blinked. The healer girl stopped mid-motion. Even the secretary, who seemed to be always quick with a snide remark, had nothing to say. The stablehand brothers stared at Malik, then at each other.
"...Uh."
The broad-shouldered one muttered.
"That's… fair."
The wiry one swallowed.
"Yeah. Yeah, alright. You win that one."
That was it. No one dared to ask for details.
"R-Right..."
Khamal cleared his throat as if shaking off the sudden chill in the air.
"Well. Anyway, the plan's simple—we work from the inside, little by little, until one day, the people at the top look down and realize they're standing on nothing."
Malik nodded.
"Slow rot. I like it. But do you really believe in all this? That you can actually change anything?"
Khamal's smile returned, but there was something sharp beneath it.
