Upon hearing the noise in the room, Rexasor remained composed.
He tread lightly, circling behind the stone screen by the door, and ventured into the office behind the screen.
There, a hooded figure knelt, cradling the Shadow Core with both hands. With humility and devotion, he expressed his "loyalty" to the Shadow Core as if in prayer.
The hooded figure repeated the same phrase over and over again, chatting with the Shadow Core in an unknown language of mysterious intent.
Folding his arms and leaning against the wall, Rexasor silently waited.
Perhaps it was the hooded figure's demonstration of "loyalty" that was convincing enough, or perhaps the Shadow Demon was tired of his chatter. A hazy black fog began to rise from the Shadow Core. The fog wormed its way up the figure's wrists, under his sleeves, clinging to the lining of his cloak until it crept to his collar, finally hovering under his nose.