Ivan strode toward the eastern walls of the capital, his pace steady, measured. The distant murmur of the city had faded, leaving only the crisp echo of his boots against the cobblestone.
Without turning, he spoke.
"I was under the impression that you would chart your own path," he said coolly. "And yet, it appears you are following mine."
Behind him, was none other than Abaddon.
A low chuckle rumbled from the fallen angel's throat as he spoke.
"I have chosen to follow you," he replied, amusement laced in his voice.
Ivan came to a halt at the base of the towering wall, exhaling softly as he glanced over his shoulder.
"Enlighten me, then. For what reason have you decided this?"
Abaddon stepped closer, his eyes glinting in the dim light.
"Curiosity," he murmured.
"I find you… intriguing."
Ivan's crimson gaze sharpened. "And what, pray tell, is it that intrigues you so?"
