The dimly lit chamber where the Lords met was as much a battlefield as a conference room, the air charged with animosity and thinly veiled contempt. Heisenberg was the first to speak, his smirk dripping with sarcasm.

“A fifth child, huh? Wonderful. Another freak to babysit,” he drawled, twirling a piece of scrap metal between his fingers. “Let me guess, Miranda: this one’s ‘special,’ just like the rest of us?”

“Careful, Heisenberg,” Lady Dimitrescu hissed, her crimson lips curling into a sneer. Her towering form loomed over him, her claws clicking menacingly against the table. “You wouldn’t want to insult Miranda’s gift.”

Donna Beneviento sat silently, her porcelain mask hiding her expression, while Angie cackled beside her. “Oh, this is gonna be fun! A new toy to play with! I wonder if they’ll last longer than the last one…”

Salvatore Moreau shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his grotesque form oozing unease. “M-Mother Miranda must have her reasons. W-we should trust her…”

The sound of footsteps cut through the tension, and Miranda entered, her presence silencing the room. She was accompanied by a figure cloaked in shadows, their features obscured.

“You bicker like children,” Miranda said coldly, her tone silencing even Heisenberg’s retort. “This is why I chose to create another. Where you have failed to work as one, they will succeed. This is the fifth lord.”

The cloaked figure stepped forward, their face still hidden, but the air around them felt electric, pulsating with barely contained power.

“This meeting is not for your approval,” Miranda continued. “It is to ensure your obedience. You will guide them, test them, and accept them as one of you. Do not forget—I hold the strings to all your fates. Now, introduce yourselves, and behave.”

The Lords exchanged glances, their distaste for one another momentarily overshadowed by their curiosity—and unease—about the newcomer.