The five warlords stood around the massive mahogany table. The roaring hearth fire crackled, casting long, dancing shadows across their stoic, exhausted features.
Zarek was the first to break the heavy silence.
"If she is still in there," Zarek stated, his deep, gravelly voice vibrating with undeniable authority, "we are going to rip her out. I do not care if we have to tear the Heavens down brick by brick to find her."
Syris stood by the window, staring out at the bruised, post-eclipse sky. The Snake King crossed his elegant arms, his mind already churning through centuries of ancient magical theory.
"We cannot afford to be methodical, brothers," Syris warned, his tone laced with a dark, terrifying urgency. "Divine magic is not something we can play with. We have a ticking clock. What if tomorrow, she is no longer going to be here at all?"
A sharp, collective shudder passed through the towering apex predators at the thought.
