The Mob

Restless. His eyes kept darting around the damp cave. The darkness added an uncomfortable feeling. He was sitting on a large stone and cupping half of his face with a hand, the other holding a silver mask. Clutching his head tightly, Lucien felt the throbbing pain as a symbol glows on his chest. The pain kept on pulsating with his heartbeat, feeling like his body is mocking him. A lone crystal ball served as the light in that wide expanse of darkness.

He bared his teeth imagining an invisible opponent in front of him. When his memory revealed a blurry dark face with fangs the same as his, he threw the mask with great force. A hand caught it in the air. A large gash ran down on the same silver mask on the man's face. There was a questioning gaze on his eyes as he scanned Lucien's body up and down. "Master," Azimuth knelt followed by Holgur and Mozrath.