With a powerful shove, Draven threw Handler aside, sending him tumbling across the room with enough force to break the table they had been standing near. Handler, recovering from the impact, watched as Draven's wings unfurled, and with a determined glint in his eyes, he declared, "I will find a way to stop Devon and slaughter him without your help."
The tension in the room was palpable as Draven's words hung in the air. He turned away, his wings beating with a fierce intensity as he prepared to leave the airship. Before he departed, he shot one final warning over his shoulder, "You better not get in my way."
Draven continued to flap his wings, carrying him through the moonlit night until he reached an abandoned tower. It stood alone on a small island, a solitary sentinel in the darkness. The crumbling stone structure had clearly seen better days, its windows shattered, and ivy creeping up its walls. Moonlight cast eerie shadows on the moss-covered stones.