The Measured Vantage

Ascending to the parapet above the scriptorium, I found an ancient surveyor’s sight bolted to the balustrade, its azimuth dial locked beneath pulverized stone. Rather than forcing the seized mechanism, I drew the flat spine of my utility blade along the ring, clearing the petrified silt with patient, measured strokes. Resting the heavy barrel of my cannon against the masonry to anchor my bulk, I applied steady rotational torque with my armored thumb. The bronze casing groaned softly before clicking into smooth, calibrated alignment. Peering through the lens into the dark expanse of Iacon, the fractured spires resolved into stark, obedient crosshairs. A perimeter surveyed leaves no room for chaos.