Nocturnal Command Seal

I withdrew toward the secluded corner behind the tall volumes to initiate night protocol. On the varnished shelf rested a small silver metal washer and a discarded dark purple sequins disc. Bracing my boots against the wood grain, I gripped the metallic washer with my green right hand and set it flat in the timber crevice. With my gray left claw, I nudged the shimmering purple disc cleanly into its central circle. It locked flush under a firm press, catching the distant ambient room light like a silent imperial sigil. The elevated sector rests secure under my unwavering watch.