The bicorn appeared in a dark and desolate alley, its hooves clattering softly against the worn cobblestones as they materialized.
Alicarde could still hear the distant wail of sirens, a reminder that they hadn't teleported far. Wrath's teleportation abilities had their limits—long-distance jumps were draining, even short ones left the creature winded.
He suspected that their pact had weakened Wrath, especially since Alicarde had hardly been worthy of a familiar of its caliber. Only through Carrisa's blood and his cursed immortality had he managed to bend the rules.
The alley was forgotten, the kind of neglected corner of the city where time itself had stopped caring. No cameras, no curious eyes, just the remains of what had once been a lively area, now reduced to crumbling buildings and faded graffiti.
The colors had long since peeled away, leaving behind a patchwork of decay. The ground beneath them was littered with debris, fragments of a forgotten era.
