Sunny dragged the heavy obsidian doors of his warded pavilion shut, explicitly sealing out the chaotic, blood-soaked clamor of the Vanguard staging camp. His pale, aristocratic face remained frozen in a mask of absolute, chilling apathy, but internally, he was profoundly exhausted. His uncultivated human muscles screamed in protest, and a severe migraine pounded relentlessly behind his temples. He explicitly desired nothing more than to collapse onto his spine-throne and sleep for an entire lunar cycle.
He shifted his glowing crimson gaze toward the darkest corner of the room. The Phantom Ash Scorpion was currently huddled against the cold stone, aggressively radiating a localized aura of insectoid petulance. It was explicitly sulking because Sunny had introduced the Abyssal Void-Sac into their domain.
