The oppressive gloom of Angband clung to the air like a second skin, thick with the scent of brimstone, the distant clang of tortured metal, and the faint, unsettling whine of unseen mechanisms. It was a stark contrast to the clean, precise workings of Aulë's shining halls, a difference that had long ceased to bother Mairon. He moved through the shadowed, echoing corridors with an accustomed grace, his steps light even amidst the crushing weight of the fortress, his mind undoubtedly on some new, cruel design, or perhaps the subtle shifting of power dynamics.

A heavy, earth-shaking tread echoed behind him, followed by a low, rumbling chuckle that always seemed to vibrate through the very stone itself. Melkor, his immense, dark form a shifting mass of shadow and malevolence, drew alongside him, his presence radiating a cold, ancient power that made the very air crackle.

"Still perfecting your little intricacies, eh, Mairon?" Melkor's voice, a deep, resonant growl, was laced with a paternalistic amusement, a possessive note for his favorite pupil. "Always so focused on the details. Tell me, my most diligent servant, what new delights are you weaving for me now? Another ingenious torment for the Eldar? Or perhaps a grander scheme to truly unravel the very fabric of this petty world, piece by painstakingly crafted piece?"

Mairon didn't quicken his pace, nor did he fully turn. A subtle, almost imperceptible smirk touched his lips, a private acknowledgement of the Arch-Enemy's endless, petty fascination, his own subtle indulgence of his Master's grandiosity. He tilted his head just slightly, a gesture of deference that concealed the sharpness of his own intellect, as he allowed Melkor to revel in the moment.

"Only what pleases you, my Lord," Mairon's voice, smooth and perfectly modulated, seemed to cut through the oppressive atmosphere of the fortress, yet it held a distinct undertone of quiet satisfaction, a hint of the pride he took in his wicked craft.

"The threads are many, and the patterns... they are becoming quite exquisite. What particular unravelling did you have in mind today, before I retire to consider the next phase of our grand design?" He allowed his gaze to briefly, pointedly, flick towards your position. "Perhaps mîr here has some humble thoughts that might amuse you, my Lord?"