In the partly built alabaster temple, the sound of heavy breathing permeated the hall as footsteps resounded, each one heavier than the last.
Soon, a familiar figure came into view.
With flowing dark hair, donning a corset and leather trousers with heels, Claudia stopped a few meters away from the altar, her arms outstretched as she continually exerted her will on the world.
As she stood there, staring at Abraham, several thoughts crossed her mind at that moment.
That this was the man who started everything.
If only he hadn't come to Krobridge, if only he hadn't gotten Damian to do his dirty work… her father would still be alive, and Arwen would still be alive.
Her eyes turned wet as she barely restrained the sadness gnawing at her heart while red liquid flowed freely from her nose, stopping at the top of her upper lip for a moment before moving further down.
She could still recall the sadness on Arwen's face as she gave up her life.
