The scent of blood catches on the wind, the same such wind that carries the cries, moans, and silent screams away from the palace hewn from rough rock, perched on the pinnacle of the most intrepid mountain in Remnant. This fortress is unnamed, and will be referred to as Nowhere. And it is a place that contains pure malice within its ragged walls and echoing hallways. Hallways that seem to manipulate sounds in a ethereal way.
Salem sits in her throne of obsidian, the candles blazing unnaturally behind her. Her pallid complexion adds to the contrast that is shown through the deep crimson veins which trace snakes across her visible flesh. Her eyes are haunting, a ghastly reflection of our own, bright eyes. Her eyes are voids, consuming everything in its path, sending chills throughout the hall. The black stone set into her forehead glitters in the dim candlelight. Her spectral hair highlights the dissimilitude between her eyes and the rest of this creature's physical appearance.
Despite her inhuman looks, she manages to look almost regal in her seat, as if she is entitled to rule a kingdom. Unfortunately, the kingdom she aspired to rule is the entirety of Remnant. As she sits before her ever diminishing congregation, a movement catches her eye. A seer drifted into the passageway, cracking and popping as it went. It's unnerving sounds heightened the tension in the room. Salem's cool gaze washed over her faction; it was no longer a force that could strike fear into the hearts of citizens and Huntsmen alike. A crippled soldier, missing a tail; a doctor, condemned for crimes against humanity; a fallen maiden lost to the shrine of Haven; and a soft-hearted killer, one who only pulls out his ruthless side for a very specific target. There are absences of other subjects: Mercury (the boy with the curious discolouration to his hair), Emerald (an invaluable figure in terms of psychological warfare) and Hazel.
Exhaling slowly, Salem stood. Making sure to keep her composure, she allowed herself a few more breaths, both to heighten tension and fear—which she could already sense were paramount within these walls—and to allow her to prepare her scathing words.
"Gentlemen, according to our agents, Cinder has failed to claim the relic. Not only this, but she lost her life to Raven in the process." As she spoke she allowed her gaze to drift around the room, taking note of the copious spaces left absent.
"It seems that we...miscalculated the risk that we would be betrayed or lied to during this endeavour."
As her eyes did another lap of the table, the discomfort was clear in the body language of the remaining two.
"We have also lost any alliance with the White Fang, and have no way of communicating with Adam."
Suddenly, she slammed her palms flat on the table, the sharp sound piercing a hole through the palace. An inhuman laugh began to emanate from her mouth, and her body began to shake.
"So? How do we proceed in the light of this most recent failure, gentlemen?"
After a pause with no reply, she looked up, grinning.
"We no longer restrain ourselves."