The three descended into the heart of the Private Society, a subterranean labyrinth of vaulted chambers lit by phosphorescent fungi and ancient runes etched into the stone. At the very center, beneath a dome of cracked glass that offered a view of the storm‑riddled sky, stood a massive table of obsidian. Around it, eight chairs—each occupied by a figure cloaked in the same indigo fabric that marked every member of the Society.
Skye’s eyes widened, the faint glow of her implant pulsing brighter. She reached out, fingers brushing the edge of the vial. In that instant, a cascade of images flooded her mind—towers of copper and steel, veins of electricity pulsing like a living organism, the faces of citizens oblivious to the invisible forces that kept their world alight. She saw the threads of the Society’s own machinations tangled within the city’s own, a knot of power that threatened to snap. Private Society - Alby Daor- Aria Carson- Skye ...
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