The Day of The Selection (1)
A large, bright room, its pristine white walls reflecting the golden rays of early sunlight streaming through massive windows. Inside, rows of chairs were neatly arranged, nearly all occupied by men and women, dressed sharply, their gazes fixed on a polished wooden podium at the back of the room.
On their faces, a mix of curiosity and anticipation was clear. Every now and then, someone would glance nervously toward the podium, as if waiting for something grand to unfold.
Lolchess sat among them, her body languidly slouched in her seat. Her cheek rested against her hand, elbow propped up casually, her gaze lost in the distance.
"Hey," a male voice broke the silence—a warm, yet hesitant greeting.
Lolchess slowly turned her head.