(Simon's POV)
The demon closest to Pipeline Inn's entrance drew his weapon halfway before recognising the figure on the paving stones.
"Blackmoon?"
Simon remained on one knee. Blood dripped from his chin, and the black wrappings around his arms held the Chaos Blade at an awkward angle.
Two demons stopped in the street. Another backed toward the inn's doorway, staring at the patch of ground where there had been nobody a moment earlier.
"How did he appear here?"
"Wasn't he sent with the invasion?"
The questions spread as more faces turned. Nobody approached him. They looked from his ruined clothing to the blood beneath his hand, trying to understand how someone who should have been at the rift had returned alone.
Simon pushed himself upright.
His right knee shook. He waited until it steadied, then walked past the demon standing beside the entrance.
The weapon disappeared back into its sheath.
Inside, conversations faltered.
"A room," Simon said.
