The sun dipped lower, casting hues of deep orange and violet across the sky. Toffee observed his lizard soldiers as they trained with disciplined precision, every movement executed as if it were second nature. After a prolonged silence, he spoke, each word delivered with a practiced, deliberate calm.
"Soldiers, we’ll soon be paying a... subtle visit to the enemy’s domain. I would rather not be... caught off guard by any unpleasant surprises." He allowed a pause, a silence that hung uncomfortably in the air
"Ensure everything is prepared to my exacting standards. I will tolerate nothing less than perfection."
With composed ease, he turned, clasping his hands behind his back, and walked toward the enemy castle with slow, purposeful strides. Every step was calculated, every move assured—everything in line with his plan. Then, something caught his attention. Without breaking stride, his voice sliced through the silence, cold and precise.
"Who are you? State your purpose... immediately."
His expression remained unreadable, yet a faint glint surfaced in his eyes—not of alarm, of course, but of calculation. It was a look that conveyed a chilling message: he was prepared for any eventuality, no matter how unexpected.