The first light of dawn spilt over the jagged treetops and cracked earth of Govean, stretching long shadows across the camp. The air was crisp and cool, with only the faintest hint of morning mist clinging to the ground. Knights moved with purpose, their armour clinking softly as they prepared for what lay ahead. Commander Valerie stood at the edge of the encampment, her gaze fixed southward toward the Wasteland.
The plan was set—one that Luke had listened to with both intrigue and dread. Scouts would venture into the Wasteland, but not without precaution. At Commander Valerie's command, the knights had brought forth coils of thick, sturdy rope, each spool stretching long enough to trace back their steps should something go wrong. Luke watched as the scouts began fastening the ropes around their waists, double-checking the knots with disciplined precision.
Commander Valerie's voice was sharp and clear as she laid out the plan for the assembled knights.
