70
Nyx was at Aileen's bar with his subordinates, upset. His benighted eyes were everlastingly dark. He hated defeat. So much so that it was all he thought about and could never forget no matter what.
"Seven times," he snapped, "that's how many times I've failed a plan. So many times I've proven as a failure to myself." abhorrence to his tone.
Krod shook his head. He had regenerated his body thanks to his demonic abilities. He chugged an entire glass jug of beer. Then he slammed the empty glass upon the table, a sigh trailing the sound. "I am tired of you worrying about failure, boss. Look, it doesn't matter. Besides, we haven't even failed yet."
Alura smirked, a wine glass between her fingers, and a cheek in her hand. "Yeah, boss—just as Krod said—we have not yet failed. We know their locations, their strengths and weaknesses—practically everything. What is the plan now? We are going back for them, aren't we?" she carried the glass to her lips.
