"Talent markings? Aura?" I asked, frowning. "What are you talking about, old man? As far as I know, my presence and aura are always under control."
Dante shook his head slowly, like a teacher correcting a stubborn student. "What you're talking about is your Essence control, your ability to rein in your energies. But your presence…" He leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "Your presence is how the natural world reacts to you. It's your will, bleeding out of you like a damned sun in my face."
I stiffened, his words echoing in my head.
'Is he talking about the Executor's Halo?'
"I still don't understand," I said.
"Then let me show you."
He straightened, and before I could react, something changed.
His presence surged, not just his aura, but something deeper. My senses noticed a new weight pressed down on the room.
Dante no longer looked like the bent, hunched old man in front of me; he looked like a giant made of raw energy, towering and impossible to ignore.
