The Hooded One's shrouded form remained perfectly still, that void-like darkness tracking across the hundreds of seers forming circles around him.
The silence stretched, broken only by the sound of wind.
Then the doubled voice emerged, quiet but carrying clearly across the rooftop.
"The cult of..."
A pause, weighted with something approaching disbelief.
"True Demon?"
The shrouded head turned slightly, finding Damian's frozen form through the crowd.
"You were right, Damian Bloodworth."
The doubled voice dropped lower, becoming almost contemplative.
"Life really does prove us wrong when we least expect it."
The shrouded form shifted, hands emerging from beneath the cloak to gesture at the assembled seers.
"Just a day ago, I, the one who created the Demon race from the foundations of sin itself, didn't even know there existed a title called True Demon."
The hands spread wider, encompassing everything.
