Flaw$ N $in

Previously

…Malakor’s eyes narrowed, the amusement fading from his features. “Brave words, musician. But words are cheap. Actions have a price. And your price is your very soul.” He extended a hand, his fingers tipped with sharp, obsidian claws. “So, Elias Thorne. What is your song? Salvation… or damnation?” The air crackled. The penthouse, the desolate plains, all seemed to blur into a single, agonizing point of decision. Elias Thorne, the musician haunted by echoes of the past, stood at the precipice, the fate of his soul hanging in the balance, a single, resonant note waiting to be played.