Damien watched from the shadows as more figures entered the warehouse.
His shadow sense had masked his presence perfectly, rendering him invisible to normal perception. The handlers continued their work, organizing demons into combat formations, discussing deployment strategies with casual efficiency born from repeated practice.
Then three more people arrived, and Damien's jaw clenched with dark satisfaction.
Captain Veyra. Lieutenant Kross. Sergeant Tyrus.
The three Imperial Guard mages who'd accused him of demonic corruption two days ago. The ones who'd questioned his loyalty, demanded magical examination, made veiled threats.
Now here they were, coordinating with actual demons under the direction of a confirmed traitor.
The irony would have been amusing if it wasn't so damning.
"Status?" Captain Veyra asked Veyrix, removing her hood.
