In the heart of Imperilment, where molten lava flowed like rivers of fire, Victor floated effortlessly through the searing heat.
The volcanic depths roared around him, but the lava did not burn his skin. He moved with ease, as if the inferno were nothing more than a gentle breeze, and soon arrived before her: Vandora.
Her form was massive, a hulking beast of old, her outer shell hard as obsidian and her presence as ancient as time itself. Victor floated closer, gently patting her shell, which radiated an intense warmth. "Old friend," he greeted her with a smile, "how are you doing today?"
A low chuckle rumbled from Vandora, her voice reverberating through the magma-filled chamber. "It's only been about three hundred years, Victor. We're not that old yet!"
