"You say you're the father of dragons. Where did your legions come from?" I ask, curious.
Samael's face darkens. "When we fell, Shannon, our core energies shattered into millions of shards. From these shards sprang our children. Imagine your conscious being shredded through a cheese grater. These shards had a sentience unto themselves, and retained traits of their parents, like candles lit by the same flame. They were souls unto themselves, albeit less powerful than their progenitors. It was chaos, waking up from the fall and realizing you had legions to raise." Samael kneads his brow, as if recalling building an empire from scratch.
"No wonder there were so many wars fought between fallen angels before Hell was properly founded. The confusion that ensued must have been tremendous," I ponder.
