There was no fanfare when Walter Daedalus died. As his war machines ground to a halt, and his empire crumbled to dust, there were no cheers or songs. Only a long sigh of relief as the nightmare finally came to an end. A nightmare Asmodeus himself helped create. He believed could be no half measures against Daedalus. This war must be fought without hesitance or restraint, and Asmodeus chose to embody this truth. So much so that friend and foe alike referred to him as, “the Devil Himself.”
But when war the war was won, Asmodeus found he could no longer tell the difference between himself and the Devil he had made. Will he find a way to remove his mask which has become second nature, or will there be anything left of him after all this time?
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