Prologue | The Light Burns Slowly

"The time has come, hasn't it?"

The man stood across the table, a faint candle casting flickering light across his shadowed face.

"The previous vessel failed," the seated man muttered, his voice low and tired. "It's too weak."

The man standing didn't flinch. "So what now? Do we wait for them to find a new one?"

A pause. Then, with cold finality:

"They'll find one quick enough."

The candle extinguished itself as if in response, a wisp of smoke curling into the air.

The seated man rose, adjusting a black and red mask across his face. His name was Villanova.

His counterpart stared into him, unshaken. "Is that truly what you want, Villanova? I know you. You want the mask for yourself."

Villanova scoffed, stepping forward. The smoke seemed to part in his path.

"You know too much."

The other man held his ground. "I know what you hungry for. You're a vampire—not of blood, but of power."

Villanova's hand gently pressed against the man's face.

"What are you doing?! Take your hand off me!"

"I'd stay quiet if I were you. Struggling only makes it worse."

In seconds, the man's face paled, his skin graying as if drained of all life. He collapsed to the floor, a hollow shell of what once was.

Villanova looked down at him."The truth hurts. Looks like it chose you first."

From the corner of the room, another voice emerged.

"You're quite the cruel one, Villanova."

A figure stepped into the candleless room, blonde hair hair gleaming faintly, a gold mask resting over his face.

Villanova didn't turn."I don't need your commentary. Find the next vessel."

"As you wish, Master."

Villanova walked to the door, pausing only to glance back one final time at the lifeless body.

He shut the door behind him.

The time had come.

A new vessel for the Sovereign was needed.

And it would be found.