Alone in the oppressive silence of his dimly lit quarters, the Veil Serpent Master paced, his steps echoing the weight of his thoughts. The air seemed to constrict around him as he closed the chamber door, severing the last thread connecting him to the outside world.
Leaning against the ornate desk, he surveyed the room with a mixture of frustration and calculated resolve. The flickering candlelight cast elongated shadows, dancing like specters bearing witness to his inner turmoil.
"Why?" he whispered to the emptiness, his voice a mere breath in the vast expanse of secrecy. "Why did the assassins elude our grasp? What weakness have I overlooked?"
His reflection in the polished surface of the grand desk betrayed a hint of vulnerability, a fracture in the carefully crafted facade of invincibility. The Veil Serpent Master, usually draped in the cloak of control, now faced an interrogation of his own making.
