Seria and Elara arrived twenty minutes later, entering the warehouse with weapons ready and divine magic crackling around Elara's hands.
They stopped just inside the door, taking in the scene.
Bodies everywhere. Blood pooling on the stone floor. The overwhelming smell of death and burned flesh. Damien sitting calmly on a crate in the center of it all, shadows still moving around him like restless serpents.
"Gods," Elara breathed.
Seria's tactical mind was already cataloging – counting bodies, identifying weapons, assessing the battle's flow from the carnage pattern. "Thirty-five hostiles. Four of them look like Imperial Guard armor. That's – Damien, did you kill Captain Veyra?"
"And Lieutenant Kross and Sergeant Tyrus," Damien confirmed. His voice was steady, almost casual. "They were here coordinating demon smuggling with Lord Veyrix. The Emperor's council member. He's the one in the corner."
"You killed a member of the Emperor's advisory council," Elara said slowly.
