High upon the jagged eastern ridge overlooking the volcanic caldera, two cloaked figures crouched against the basalt rim.
A subterranean draft whipped across their dark mantles, carrying the pungent stench of sulfur and pulverized stone from the smoking avenue far below.
Lucan adjusted his polished brass scrying monocle, his stoic face tightening with genuine concern as he tracked the massive crimson silhouette standing in the crater.
"The King descended from his citadel in person without waiting for our signal," Lucan remarked in a quiet, steady tone that barely carried over the ridge winds.
"An unprompted apex deployment falls entirely outside the standard environmental simulation parameters established by our elders for this containment sector," he continued, shaking his head at the unexpected deviation.
