He sat in his room—also his cell—without anxiety, merely running a hand through his black hair.
Suddenly, the door opened, and a warrior clad in faintly gleaming dark-blue armor walked in.
Through the doorway, Bruce could see the purple armor of the royal guards, their halberds and silver cloaks glinting beneath the pallid lights of the dungeon.
Clearly, tremendous changes had taken place outside during the time he had been held here.
The newcomer was bald, with a pale, gaunt face and eyes like black jade.
Seeing the arrival of his former subordinate, Navarra, Bruce nodded in acknowledgment, then impatiently waved him closer.
"My lord, Shadow Blade has disbanded. The Shadow Prince has withdrawn from the center of power with all his forces. Now the Protector and the Imperial Parliament are governing this dying nation."
Bruce smiled and turned his gaze once more toward the window roughly three meters above his head.
He knew the full story better than anyone, for he was one of the few who knew the truth.
"Then I must wait for judgment from those frightened people, mustn't I?"
"They are indeed terrified, and they have declared us monsters and heretics."
"So they will demand blood for blood, without question... and they do not care who protected them before."
He recalled Diego coming to his room, flying into a rage over something that had happened on the other side of the continent—at the time, he had looked like an oil tank set ablaze.
As that inhuman man spoke a torrent of incomprehensible words to him, Bruce suddenly convulsed and collapsed to the floor. The horrifying vision of endless death and darkness in the future had nearly shattered his mind.
After he awoke, Diego told him the truth.
He revealed the nature of his power and the