The Celestial Tribunal still hadn’t made a move.

Their golden encampment sat in silence across the Wastelands like a massive sleeping beast stretched over the plains.

A shimmering screen of light flickered beneath the sun, so bright it stung the eyes, hiding everything behind it from view.

Hadrian stood atop the central platform of the camp, staring into the distance.

Lydia stood beside him.

“Malachy isn’t coming,” Lydia said quietly.

“I know.”