A deal with the devil.

Zareth stood still, his imposing frame silhouetted by the dim moonlight filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The sheer curtains swayed as if whispering secrets from a time long forgotten.

In his hand, a worn photograph.

Lunara.

Her soft features captured in ink and paper, her eyes filled with a gentleness that no longer existed in his world. His fingers traced the delicate curve of her face, his grip tightening as a storm of rage and longing raged within him.

Behind him, a presence.

A soft voice, filled with both reverence and venom.

"Father, everything is ready."

Zareth didn't turn immediately.

He knew who it was.

Nyx.

His daughter. His only child.

He lifted his gaze to the horizon, where the land stretched wild and endless, but his mind was trapped in a single moment of the past.

Finally, he spoke.