The Gray Room was enormous, gray, and had a window that overlooked the city below.
Skyscrapers full of lesser nobodies had lights on through the dark days; it was as if the sky and ground had flipped, with gray concrete above and starry night below.
The same view every day and every night. The same people waiting for orders on the dirty white couches.
If Luxord wasn't aware of the heavy gazes of his elders on his neck, he'd be squirming with impatience.
Today he got to go to Bayou Boulevard, after all.
“Saix won't be here for another ten minutes,” said the man on the couch. His beautiful golden tresses did not fit at all with his fish eyes and knife-sharp cheekbones.
“Sit down and play chess with us instead of pacing. You're going to give people a headache.”
“Yes, Vexen,” Luxord said, and went and sat next to him.
“No, no, sit opposite of me!”
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