Damian remained seated against the wall, his back pressed against the cold stone that felt almost comforting in its solidity.
Moonlight bled through the window, painting everything in shades of silver and shadow.
His hand rose slowly, fingers spreading.
Whoosh
Light flashed as a cigar materialized above his palm, his Aura flickered around his fingertip, igniting the end until smoke began curling upward.
He brought it to his lips, inhaling deeply, letting the burn settle in his lungs before exhaling slowly.
The smoke drifted across the room, dispersing in moonlight that made it look like ghosts dancing.
His eyes closed, his head tilting back against the wall behind him.
'My only weapons against Fate are Time and Space, huh...'
The thought formed calm and measured, turning over the Mask's words.
'Why not just learn Fate principles directly? Isn't it supposed to be weak now? Shouldn't that make it easier to–'
