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... imanded at the top of his lungs, repeatedly banging his fists at the door of another room.

They arrived at the City of Aeloria three days ago and had taken in the wonderful sights, such as the breathtaking skyscrapers of unmatched architecture, the fancy restaurants Hal's mother had always talked about, the widest streets they had ever seen, and many more they had never imagined existed, or at least existed to such a degree.

All that for the small part of Aeloria they'd explored. ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

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