The sky was the color of ash. Black particles drifted downward through the still air, settling onto a landscape where nothing grew, bare ground as far as the eye reached, and at the crests of the distant hills, purple lightning struck in continuous volleys, the thunder rolling back and the crows' cries rising beneath it, the only two sounds this place had ever known.
Until Raphael walked into it.
His blue eyes reflected what was in front of him: a shallow pit, and in it, what the First Hunting Ground had made of the being formerly known as Blitz.
The Ground always composed a portrait from the manner of death and the symbolic residue of a life, in this case, the head on a stake, jaw hanging slack; the body in two halves, the cold that Miguel's ice had left behind still visible in the purple-black of the frozen flesh; the frost still crystallized on the surface.
[Demon Contract: Vampire Baron.]
[Demon Level: 5.]
[Cardinal Sin: Superbia.]
