The ridges surrounding the Vale were a graveyard of frozen pine and jagged shale, slick with the icy condensation of the high-altitude night. To the Beastmen celebrating below, the heights were merely a scenic backdrop to their ancient ritual, a crown of dark stone meant to hem in their secrets. To Hansen, they were the perfect vantage point for a massacre.
The air up here was thin and tasted of frost, biting at the exposed skin of Hansen's cheeks. He lay prone on a specialized tactical mat, his body draped in a multi-spectral thermal shroud. This wasn't standard military gear, it was a prototype "Invisibility Cloak" stolen from the high-security labs at Ispire Inc., designed to mask the heat signatures of human operators from the hyper-sensitive thermal vision of a Beastman.
"Status," Hansen whispered into his throat-mic. His voice was a flat, emotionless rasp that barely carried over the low whistle of the wind.
