Marc: *His fingers drum against the ornate armrest.* Monja… *He taps a sharp nail against the armrest.* Such strong connection… so potent.
The air crackles with dark energy as Marc's frustration mounted. Christopher's pleading voice, calling out to her embedded his senses.
Marc: *He hurls the mirror across the room.* Damn it!
Shattered glass scattered like fallen stars across the obsidian floor.
Marc: *His gaze sharpens, a predatory glint in his eyes.* You seem remarkably close to her, Michael. *A sinister smile plays on his lips.* I trust you understand the implications of deceiving me, Mickie. It would be… unwise.
Marc's deep voice resonated through the chamber, heavy with unspoken threats.
Marc: *He paces, his dark robes swirling around him.* Why did those meddling twins had to complicate matters? *He stops, his eyes narrowing.* Their soul swap has thrown a wrench in my plans. I would have had both of their souls by now… I should have had it decades ago, but those twins are always involved… somehow.
The heavy oak doors swung open, interrupting his self monologue.
Logan: *He kneels, his fiery red hair falling around his face.* Sire… *He keeps his head bowed, his voice trembling slightly.* Forgive the interruption, but we have a… situation.
Kylie rushed in, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
Marc: *He gestures impatiently, his eyes fixed on both of his servant.* Report, Kylie.
She hesitated, her eyes wide with fear.
Logan: *He glances at Kylie, his expression mirroring her terror.* Sire… Michael… he has summoned the ancient three.
Silence descended upon the chamber, thick and suffocating.
Marc: *He slams his fist on the armrest, the force radiating through the room.* HE DID WHAT?! *He turns away abruptly, his mind racing.* The ancient three? Impossible! *He paces the length of te chamber, his shadow stretching and contorting with each stride.* This changes everything…