Iyana stood near the window of the medical facility ward, her gaze fixed on the imposter who sat calmly on the bed. The late-night breeze made chills creep into her heart.
"Answer me. Who are you?" Iyana asked once again, her voice steady but laced with apprehension.
"I am Vyan, who else?" the imposter said with a smile, standing up.
"Maybe you should say that once you have got Vyan's scar on your forehead," Iyana sharply responded.
"Ah." The imposter touched his forehead and a black spark emanated from his palm, forming a scar on the side of the forehead. "How is this? Good enough?"
"It's the wrong side," Iyana let out, clenching her fist.
"Too bad then. I was hoping to play along a little more," the imposter smirked and tilted his head. "Take over now, Azazel."
"What?" Iyana murmured under her breath as the name sunk in like lead. "What do you mean by that?"