The confirmation hit him like a physical blow. It was the same signature he had found in Lara. The same hungry, void-like appetite.
"Damn it!" William slowly stood up, his gaze sweeping over the thousands of wounded masters gathering in the plaza. The realisation settled in his gut like lead. "It's him. That bastard is actually here!"
He looked around the devastated city, his eyes searching the shadows of the broken buildings. If the alchemist was present, then every wound inflicted on his guild members was a ticking time bomb.
Every drop of blood spilt was a victory for the enemy. He felt a sudden, rare surge of genuine dread. To tell the truth was to admit they were all doomed—unless he could find a way to kill a poison that ate the very power used to fight it.
"What shall we do?"
The question hung in the air, fragile and trembling. Anjie looked at William, and for the first time since she had known him, she felt a cold pit of genuine dread open in her stomach.
