[Timeline: The Morning of the Advance]
[Location: The Dwarven Kingdom]
The subterranean silence of Ironforge's guest quarters was a rare luxury.
Damien Voss opened his mismatched eyes, the twilight-purple irises split perfectly by cross-shaped pupils.
He took a deep, steadying breath. For the first time in over sixteen years, he had slept without one eye open, without his [Sensory Intent] desperately scanning the horizon for Void beasts or Demigod threats.
He sat up on the edge of the plush mattress. Deep within his chest, his 8th-Order Eclipse Core spun in perfect, absolute harmony .
The suffocating exhaustion that had accumulated during his long, blood-soaked campaign in the Abyss had finally washed away. He felt revitalized, his Physique humming with a pristine, boundless vitality.
Damien stood and effortlessly shrugged into his signature black combat coat, the fabric woven with protective elven enchantments and shadow mana [5]. It was time to move.
