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He woke on his knees in a hallway of polished lead. The air tasted of rust and burned rosemary. Ahead: a door without a handle. Behind: a wall of weeping stone. Elias knew the protocol. He closed his eyes, bit the inside of his cheek until copper flooded his mouth, and spoke the name he'd been bred to forget.

The door sighed open.

"Someone who remembers what it felt like to be mortal." zalmos proxy

"And what's that?"

"Zalmos."

Behind him, Zalmos sat alone in the lead hallway, waiting for a reply he already knew would never come. He woke on his knees in a hallway of polished lead

"That's when I was lonely." Zalmos slurped a noodle. "Sit." zalmos proxy