Abaddon had finished the puzzle after a long and cumbersome effort on his part.
He stared at the tapestry of himself that spanned several yards in length.
In the frame, he was depicted holding his own golden soul with both hands and staring into it listlessly.
It was a nice photograph, but Abaddon hoped it had some purpose other than appealing to a sense of vanity he didn't really have.
Abaddon paid closer attention to his new face.
It looked... funny.
He just hoped that neither Belloc, nor any of the guys would make cracks about his appearance, or else his house was going to become very vacant very fast.
Abaddon lifted a clawed foot and tapped it against the completed puzzle.
After everything that had happened so far, he was expecting for something grand to happen at the end of his exercise.
But there was nothing. Only silence, and a completed portrait.
Now, he was stuck.
