Xander:
What have you done, you murderer?
My father is dead, your day will come!
Daryus:
Don’t hold your breath,
the night’s still young.
Confront your death,
like father, like son.
Who’s this I see?
Approaching me, the chosen one!
Narrator:
Drawing closer, pace by pace.
The walking shadow hides its face.
Never aware of a looming attack,
like stepping right into a trap.
As his weapon finds its victim.
Mortified, he’s shocked to find, the shadow is Faythe!
