The stillness of the fortress is broken only by the low hum of the ancient mechanisms buried deep within its walls. The aging Grand Admiral sits alone at a long table, a lone datapad before him, though his eyes are fixed on the shadows dancing across the stone. The weight of years spent in exile lingers in his bearing, yet his gaze remains sharp, precise, unyielding. Patience has been both prison and ally, and in the silence he measures every possibility, every pattern that might yet unfold.