Far away, in the stretching darkness, a figure reigned supreme, its face masked by a dreadful smile. It watched the world from the height of its tower.
"Bring me the servants of the Mistress of Head," Gordon demanded of his servants.
One of them shriveled beyond human shape and rolled out of the room.
Gordon turned toward his other servant. In his hand was a bottle filled with haze, and inside it knelt a small caricature that looked exactly like Gordon.
He smirked and called out, "Throw that inferior copy into some dark place."
The other servant, this one grotesquely formed and foolish in appearance, quickly bowed and ran off as Gordon waved his hand.
"Coward," Gordon commented as his servant left.
As soon as the servants left, the hall stood empty. Gordon remained alone in his tower, his face turned toward the vast city beneath him.
Once, he had been a shepherd of the city. Now, he was its ruler. He looked down upon it with cold authority.
