Rise Of The Nephilim

5:00 A.M.

“Babylonia is even more impressive now than when I was last here,” Kal said, standing in the middle of Āmand’s personal command center with his hands pressed behind his back. He was still fully armed. He admired the highly decorative walls and floors painted with fresco. The room was no more than a large, isolated cave on one side of a stone bridge. Epoch warriors, both Kashian and Babylonian, banked themselves on opposite sides, facing each other outside the entrance.

Āmand massaged the scab that had formed over the wound in the palm of his hand. It had already begun to heal quite well. His face was like stone as he reclined in his Louis XVI chair―a gift from Byzalium. It stood in front of an ornately carved desk―a gift from Kal―from the time of King Vlad, the Romanian King, also known as Dracula. He looked around at the glut of relics he’d collected throughout the centuries.

“Your taste for flare surpasses even my own,” Kal said as he laughed.

“Hardly, brother. My taste for Human materialism has not grown as voraciously as yours,” Āmand responded, sensing some sarcasm in Kal’s voice. He gave him a disapproving look. “Brother, are we talking about earthly treasures or something more ominous?”

“Brother, you know that I have never questioned your decisions or commands. I have always been loyal to you and your rule since our days in the Realm. But now . . . now I am greatly concerned―”

“―You are questioning my decision to protect the Humans?”

“Yes. Forgive me, brother, but, quite frankly, I must.”

“Had I allowed the Reckoning to continue, I would have ceded my rule to Arcadium.”

Kal turned away from Āmand’s direct stare, focusing instead on the pair of iron spears crossed above an iron shield―a relic of the fallen Roman Empire.

Āmand stood up and slammed his fist down on the table. Kal’s eyes sharply snapped back to meet his stare. “As Premier Dominance of Babylon, it is I who will mark the day of the Reckoning! Not Arcadium or his puppet, Byzalium.”

Kal bowed his head, his eyes toward the floor. “Forgive me, Dominance. I will not question you again.”

Āmand sighed. “And I will never question your loyalty.”