Alastor dug his claws into his scalp, blood caressing his face gently, kinder to him than he was to many. He'd never thought he'd be thrown so low… static flickered in the air around him, and sound tracks made a cacophony of sound in his ruined tower.

Months ago, Alastor would've laughed at the idea of something so foolish. But now copper was all he tasted. He slid down, raking a hand against the wall and smearing red over it in a messy streak. His smile was wide enough to split his face open.