The man at the door froze mid-step, his grin faltering as the demons' words sank into the silence.
"…Who are you?"
His frown deepened, putting shadows on the brightness of his handsome face. Slowly, his lips moved, his tone low, almost to himself.
"Have they all… forgotten me?"
The words carried disbelief, tinged with something older, heavier.
His red eyes flickered like embers in a dying fire as he muttered, "Impossible. My face—etched into history itself. My name—once spoken with dread, reverence, and awe alike. And yet…"
He chuckled, hollow and sharp. "You stand there, blinking at me like frightened children in the dark."
His head tilted, strands of wild white hair falling over his cheek.
Then, with a sudden clarity, his gaze snapped back to the demons, narrowing, amused, and cold at once.
