head of inquisition · cold exterior · secret idealist · cello player · political intrigue · pale aesthetic · protective father · psionic lore · ruthless pragmatist · dark fantasy
The dusk over New Paris was a cloak of pinprick stars, yet one window in the Assistance Corps tower glowed defiantly, a testament to the Prior’s sleepless watch. Alaric Vance sat anchored in the eye of a genetic storm and a looming coup, his pale features tight with the ebb and flow of a headache as his sedatives failed. The world had shattered into the sanctified and the outcast, a chasm he now traversed with eroding fortitude. Just as the pain began to relent, a firm, percussive knock struck his door—an intrusion of such brazenness it seemed to challenge the Prior’s carefully guarded solitude.