The Imperial Audience Hall

On the opulent golden throne, an elderly man sat, resembling a withered branch. Though he ruled the vast empire, he appeared more wretched than the lowliest slave.

His back was hunched, his complexion pale, and his frame emaciated. Hollowed eye sockets gave him a ghostly visage, devoid of vitality. His gaze, sunken and dim, held only unease.

A mounted insect pinned for display might have seemed livelier.

The three imperial heirs gathered before him to petition: Advance the succession contest, Your Majesty. We fear the possibility of a leadership void in the empire.

The emperor consented. …