One of Fein's Dark Lord Angel of Death appeared before him, bowing respectfully. Fein, lounging on a deck chair on his boat with a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose, lazily took a sip from his glass of juice.
"What news do you bring?" Fein asked, his voice smooth and commanding.
"Master, the forces of the underworld are in turmoil," the Angel of Death reported. "They suspect that there is a traitor among them, leaking information to the Dark Knights. They are turning on each other, and some even fear that they are being spied upon."
Fein raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "And how did they come to this conclusion?"
"Rumors and speculation, my Lord," the Angel of Death replied. "They are grasping at straws, desperate to find a reason for their failure to combat your forces."
Fein leaned forward, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "And they have no idea that it is my shadow army that is watching their every move?"
