It was there. It was still alive.
Valentius looked at the beating heart, at the crystal.
Right before it was a girl.
She was young. Her hair was loose and plastered to her head. Her eyes were wild.
"Man, Tatiana," Marek murmured, for the man could not do anything but, Valentius was sure. "What happened to you, dear girl?"
"Traitor!"
She didn't want to die, Valentius realized.
For all that she had killed countless men and women, she didn't want to die.
Valentine gripped Mercy. Made a step forward.
"No, Love," Marek patted him on the shoulder, making him back away. "Let me show off the goods!"
It was a cheerful way to tell someone you were going to kill someone else.
An unnatural way.
But Valentius was sure that nothing about Marek was natural.
Was this girl his mother? The dungeon core, which created him? Did she use a passing by a necromancer or a Lich?
Or…
Marek was gone in a flash. Albert pulled Valentius to the ground, covering his ears.
