Modret was horror-stricken as he stared at the lineup of the Illuminati.
A devastating pressure erupted from the bunch, crashing down on him. He stabilized himself, staring at them warily.
The biting chill of the snow-covered ground seemed to intensify under the weight of their presence.
Suddenly, a red warning tab glowed in his line of vision.
[Detected a tampering with the Shadow Servant.]
[Initiating the destruction process.]
Subconsciously glancing at the system's words, Modret snapped his gaze in the direction of Aeron, who was bound within an ice sculpture.
A plaque bearing a triangle with a pupilless eye in the middle was affixed to the ice above his head.
Feeling as though something vital had cracked within him, Aeron widened his eyes and shouted fiercely.
His voice was raw and desperate, cutting through the frosty air.
"Iron Hand! Kill him! He will bring destruction to the organization! He has a great se—"
