Rogue Master POV
The familiar scent of damp earth and stale magic filled my nostrils as the shadowy figure materialized before me, its form coalescing from the gloom of my war room. Its presence, a subtle shift in the air currents, always brought a thrill of anticipation. I leaned back in my crude, throne-like chair, a wicked smile spreading across my face.
"Speak," I commanded, my voice a low rumble, vibrating with barely contained amusement. "Tell me of your findings from the Alpha's den."
The figure, a mere wisp of darkness, bowed its head. "The mission was a resounding success, Master. Every word was captured. The Alpha, Damien, has discovered the identity of the chosen one."