The deep confusion on Damon's face overwhelmed even his hatred for Morticai.
He stared into the basin at the unfamiliar reflection. A young man with dark hair, but not nearly as dark as his own. Bright brown eyes. Ordinary features. Painfully ordinary.
Damon had always joked that he looked average, but after ranking up and growing his hair out, he knew he was anything but.
"This definitely isn't my face," he muttered.
Another reflection leaned into view. A hand reached forward and touched his cheek as if confirming it for him.
"No, that's definitely you," the young woman said, studying the mirror beside him.
Damon raised his head and looked at her properly.
She looked like Abellona.
But not quite.
Her eyes were brown. Abellona's eyes were red, crystalline and sharp.
"Yo… you are not Abellona, are you?"
She blinked at him, confusion replacing concern, then folded her arms.
"I'm sure I am. Did you hit your head?"
