Agra tossed the note aside, his grin widening. "Oh, this is just… delicious," he purred, rubbing his hands together gleefully. "Looks like someone wants to… play."
He reached for another box, ripping the lid off with a flourish. This one contained a severed hand, its middle finger extended in a gesture of… defiance. Another note lay beneath it, stained with the same crimson blood as the first.
Agra chuckled, but this time, there was no amusement in his eyes. Just… cold fury.
"'Fayeth is here,'" he read, his voice a low growl. "'You cannot touch us anymore. We're taking back the Verdant Sanctuary.'"
The name… Fayeth… it struck a chord. Andohr had warned him about her. Ava's angel. The God of Darkness's… friend.
He'd dismissed it at the time, chalked it up to Andohr's paranoia, his obsession with the Dark Lord. But now…