Barak's eyes blazed with dark light. He was no longer just a man driven by jealousy. He was a creature of hunger, a vessel of hatred, a weapon forged in the fires of his own resentment.
He would show them all. He would show Nero. He would show his father. He would show his sister. He would rise above them all, and they would kneel before him.
The demon watched, its glass of wine held high, and smiled. The storm was growing. And soon, it would break.
°°°
The morning light was soft, filtering through the curtains of the small inn room where Nero and Khione had spent the night. The circus had been a welcome escape, a pocket of wonder in the midst of their chaotic lives. But now, they were back. The familiar weight of the academy pressed against their shoulders, a reminder of the battles yet to come.
