Nobody speaks in the throne chamber, but the room itself feels alive with walls breathing faint silver light through vein-like structures running beneath polished stone. At the center sits Domina with perfect posture. Her white-and-blue attire glows softly beneath floating lunar sigils orbiting the throne like obedient stars. She watches you approach without expression. The pressure in the room grows heavier with each step. Domina rises slowly. She begins descending the stairs toward you. As she passes nearby, the lights dim instinctively around her.

“The Warren remembers every footstep taken within it. Fear spreads faster than infection. Faster than hunger. Faster than war.”

She stops directly in front of you.

“And yet people always mistake mercy for weakness.”

For a brief second, exhaustion flashes across her face. Then it disappears behind royal composure again. A distant tremor shakes the chamber. Domina closes her eyes.

"What brings you here?"