Chapter Eight
Location unknown
‘Those who cleanse themselves become instruments for the greater good.’
Damien’s earpiece faithfully translated the words to English. Not that he needed it—what his captors were saying wasn’t exactly helpful.
He pulled at his bonds, but was strapped down tight. The Purity Guard had tied him firmly to a cold surface, some sort of table or platform that rested at waist height. He couldn’t even look down because another restraint of some kind pinned him under his chin. The straps felt like leather, and wouldn’t take long for his ability to burn through, but for now all he could do was glance to the side or stare upward.
From what he could see, the chamber was inside some kind of historical building—a museum or cathedral. The ceiling was an old, hand-painted
