What Abaddon saw next was a sight that would stay with him for the rest of his life.
Abaddon had seen many things in his long existence. He had witnessed the rise and fall of empires, the corruption of entire nations, and the depths to which the souls of mortals could sink.
But what he saw now, in the face of the man standing before him, was something unlike anything he had ever encountered.
He had only ever seen such a twisted, malevolent expression on the faces of creatures of darkness, on the beings who reveled in destruction, who fed on the misery of others.
His enemies, his kin—the fallen, the damned, the wretched things that crawled out of the abyss—these were the ones who wore such expressions.
And even then, it was rare to see one so pure, so unfiltered in its malevolence.
But now, this mortal, this human... Arkanos... was wearing that same expression.
