Damian blinked in surprise. In this colourless world, where the endless ocean and pale sand existed in shades of black and white, the crimson scarf around the dark knight's neck was the only thing that possessed colour. It stood out like a wound against the dull landscape, its edges fluttering in a wind that Damian could neither feel nor hear.
The knight slowly turned.
Two crimson eyes emerged from beneath the darkness of his helmet, fixing themselves upon Damian. For a brief moment, the enormous figure remained at the water's edge, separated from him by several dozen metres of empty sand. Then the distance ceased to matter. One instant, the knight stood far away. The next, his twenty-foot figure loomed directly before Damian, towering over him like a fortress given human shape.
Damian's instincts stirred. He felt those crimson eyes penetrating the depths of his soul, searching through his inheritances and the secrets buried within them.
Then the knight spoke.
