Damian had expected to be caged in a damp, cold cell.
Nothing about his alter's personality had led him to believe otherwise; in fact, every moment he remained alive was an increasing contradiction. In the first minutes and hours after he'd been spirited away by the Ninth Seat of the High Table, Damian had been expecting a blade through his throat at any moment.
Instead, the other Damian had used his Flame-blessed powers to heal the wounds he'd inflicted on Damian's shoulders and thighs, allowing him to walk again. After that, it seemed as though the future-borne Damian had become bored or distracted, since he left abruptly without saying a word.
