Makuta Ikirro strode through the dark, abandoned halls of Cekedax’s fortress. He was making his way to a room in the cellar, one only he and Cekadax knew about. I hope the telescreen still works after all that has been done to the fortress, he thought. Rularx hates receiving news late. Ikirro grumbled to himself as he entered the secret communications room and activated the telescreen. A short loading sequence ended with the screen suddenly flashing to a view of the inside of Rularx’s communications room. It was empty. “Brother,” he said. “Were you waiting long?” Rularx asked with mock concern.