Gabriel appeared in the sanctuary and headed straight for the underground floor, where a vast, cavernous hall held countless people in chains. These were real people, imprisoned and used as sources of mana to sustain his exorbitant activities. He siphoned mana from them continuously, treating them as little more than batteries, but now a great number of them were dying.
A disciple stood beside him, dressed in a black robe with an oversized hood that concealed most of his face. Yet a brilliant light shone through the opening, illuminating his features as though his face were a torch.
"Faith," Gabriel said.
Faith bowed his head. "There was nothing I could do." He pointed towards the massive golden halo suspended above the prisoners. "I have given them faith. They believe wholeheartedly and are giving more than ever before, but nothing is changing."
Gabriel turned his gaze upon him. Faith, a disciple who had risen to become a Chosen, shivered beneath the coldness of his stare.
