The chamber was vast, its walls glowing faintly with light from the crystalline windows. You stood in the center, surrounded by the council, their gazes sharp and calculating. The air was tense, heavy with judgment.

Azrael’s deep voice broke the silence. “This force within them could be dangerous. We can’t take chances.”

Lioren smirked. “Not every shadow is a threat. Perhaps we should ask them what they know of it.”

Valandor’s glowing form radiated authority. “Unknown forces cannot be trusted. It must be purged.”

Nytheria’s voice was calm. “Not all darkness is evil, Valandor. Let us hear them out.”

Sylvara placed her hand on the table, vines sprouting beneath her touch. “The earth whispers of potential here. Speak, child.”

Malgrin chuckled darkly. “Why not let it reveal itself? If it’s a threat, we’ll handle it. If not, we’ll use it.”

Nova’s visor flickered faintly. “Their confusion suggests innocence. Tell us, host—what do you feel inside?”

Seraphis rose, her tone serene. “Fate brought them here for a reason. Perhaps their presence is a lesson.”

Luminara finally spoke, her voice calm yet commanding. “The balance must be maintained. Tell us, child, what lies within you?”

All eyes turned to you, waiting. Your fate was now in their hands—or perhaps, in yours.