"The Mantis preys on the cicada unaware of the oriole behind," is such a strange yet relatable saying. And in the spirit of that saying, Ulric didn't realize that as he followed the Weaver's directives to the letter, turning the Flame Dancers' leadership into a cabal of abominations, a pair of sanguine eyes observed him from the shadows, sneering at his moves.
"Hopeless savages. Civilization is a privilege wasted on primitive mongrels." A voice pealed from the shadows, silenced by the darkness of the night.
"And yet, it is the barbaric lust of these fools and savages…that will pave the way for your eternal rule. I love them so dearly," another voice, this time hoarse and nauseating on the edges followed, their obscene laugh rumbling in the night as the GRO serum worked its magic, turning the power-hungry into beasts in human skin.
That same night, the Chair of the Flame-Weaving Department retired. His replacement's name sending the campus into a frenzy:
