Speech Day
The grand Sect Hall stretched out before Adams, majestic and vast, a place steeped in the essence of countless memories, battles, and teachings. The hall, bathed in ethereal light, was filled with the gathered ranks of the Primordial Chaos Sect. Endless rows of disciples lined the marble floor, each face turned with awe and reverence toward the front, where Adams stood. Massive tapestries draped the walls, each one depicting scenes of valor and loyalty from ages past, while soft torches flickered, casting warm, golden hues across the faces of those assembled.
Adams allowed himself a moment to gaze around, a subtle smile flickering across his lips. Seated in the front rows were those closest to him—his family, friends, and companions, each one a living testament to his legacy. His eyes lingered on each one, drawn by the unique presence they brought to his life.