[Private Office]
Professor Admond Ashford sat in his expensive chair, staring at the holographic display with a carefully blank expression.
Professor Nathan Greaves stood near the window, his arms crossed, his face a mixture of vindication and concern.
"See, Admond? You could have valued that favor properly. You could have helped that kid when he came to you asking for knowledge. But you demanded submission instead of recognizing what he was."
Nathan's voice was quiet but cutting.
"You can't do anything against him now. Not politically, or through family pressure… not even through any conventional means.
And looking at the talent he's displaying, the determination, the sheer will to survive and win against impossible odds, it's becoming clear that another being capable of standing against the Federation's established order has emerged."
Ashford's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
On the screen, Damian drove the broken axe through the final demon's skull.
