Roman Lionhart's composed facade cracked for the first time in decades as he witnessed Alex's transformation. The golden radiance wasn't mere enhancement—it was something else entirely, something that made his seasoned mind recoil with recognition he wished he could deny.
Not Alex too.
The realization hit him like ice water in his veins. First Klaus, returned from the Icarus cult's ritual as something that wore his grandson's face but carried power that defied classification. Now Alex, bathed in divine light that made even demons step back in involuntary deference.
Two vessels. In his bloodline.
