TRANSYLVANIA, ROMANIA

Kal, Underlord of Kash, sipped red wine from the dragon etched goblet he held in his hand. He stood tall and firm in the confines of his private domicile deep beneath the stone fortress of the famed Dracula’s Castle.

He was dressed in black pants and a ruffled, black shirt. His ash-colored hair was pulled taut, away from his mildly aged face, into a tight, neat bun, accentuating the fine bone structure of his cheeks.

Much like Āmand’s private domicile in Babylonia, a plethora of artifacts lined the room to mark the centuries gone by.

With a sharp glint in his eyes, he smirked, causing the fine lines to crease the corners of his eyes. His large brown wings undulated as he stood, facing the original panel of Michelangelo’s painting, The Creation of Adam. He’d had it copied as a fresco to the ceilings of the Sistine Chapel. It held the meaning of God’s love for humanity.

He sipped his wine, the best in Romania, made from grapes grown only in the highlands on a bluff overlooking the Black Sea.

“Your end is near,” he said, relishing the words that left his lips, before turning his eyes to his coat of arms―a ram’s head, encircled by a pair of black wings―that was firmly nailed to the wall. “Soon we will take what is ours.”

The sound of knocking hammered persistently on the thick wooden door, interrupting his thoughts. He turned abruptly. “Yes!” he called, his wings fluttering.

One of four Epoch guards who’d been posted outside his door entered.

“Sorry to interrupt you, Lord Kal, but I have urgent news.” He lowered his eyes to the ground.

Kal lifted just a few inches off the ground, his wings fluttering slightly toward the guard.

“What news do you bring?”

Still, with his eyes toward the ground, the guard said, “The Arcadians have launched an attack―”

“You, fool! The Arcadians have been attacking the Babylonians for centuries! Arcadium’s lust for power is insatiable! You know that!”

“Lord Kal, he has launched an unsanctioned attack on the Humans and on the Babylonians. Lord Byzalium has joined him by launching an attack on the local population in Paris.”

His eyes widened, “Damn, arrogant fools! They have jeopardized our plans. Prepare the Laser! We leave as quickly as possible for the city of New York!”

“The train is already on standby, Lord Kal!”

“Good.”

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