@casimirnoctis location: idc, u choose pal notes: content warning for identity loss, violence, and blood
The gall. The offense. Him? Him?!
Pride bloomed in a litany of directions as the greater daemon's claws bore through the plate of a Vanguard, ripping that most vital center clear from his chest before discarding it in the same vicious tear of
Captured not once, but twice? There existed no such person as Nikandros any longer, there couldn't be - Pride couldn't abide weakness and couldn't degrade itself into sinking into something so pathetic as despair. From vessel to vessel the spirit lurched, burning through the cores of those too weak to hold him until emerging once more - causing panic in his sudden appearance and mayhem in the vainglorious hearts of Lysaran nobility.
Zaknafein stood amid the carnage of his latest upheaval, dragging his bloodied claws down his face and feeling the anguish of those brazen enough to stand against Pride. Him! ZAKNAFEIN!
