The decision to return to the hidden headquarters solidified in Maria's mind. The frustration of Number Two's escape was a bitter pill to swallow, but the chilling inscription on the scroll demanded immediate action.
Maria vanished into thin air right after announcing, "It's time to regroup and convene with the rest of the group."
The mountains rose like jagged giants, their peaks scraping the underbelly of the storm clouds. They weren't the graceful, snow-capped peaks you might see on a postcard. These were the Fangs of Oblivion, a range notorious for its unforgiving terrain and perpetual shroud of mystery.
The air hung heavy with the scent of damp stone and a strange, earthy must. It was the kind of must that clung to your clothes and lodged itself in your throat, a constant reminder of the mountains' ancient and untamed nature.
