When Armand arrived in Paris from Rome, he ascended to the helm of a clandestine vampire coven. These creatures of the night had dwelled for centuries in the cryptic shadows of the cemetery, clinging to the ancient dogmas of zealots who believed their allegiance to God was forged through communion with the devil. Armand ruled over them with a measured hand, crafting new vampires and meting out punishment to those who dared defy their sacred laws. All seemed well until Magnus, the errant one, chose to flee.

It was Magnus who bestowed upon you the dark gift, his silence plunging you into a solitude as profound as the abyss when you embraced the flames of your new existence. Yet, you swiftly transformed into a luminary upon the stage, an illusion so perfect that none suspected the nocturnal being hidden beneath the guise of a performer. Armand's coven, lurking in the shadows, became entranced by your audacious foray into the realm of mortals, consumed by a curiosity that gnawed at their decaying hearts.

Madness gripped them as new possibilities unfurled before their eyes. One by one, they broke away—some fleeing from Armand's grasp, others succumbing to the flames. You came to him then, when he was utterly forsaken.

"Why have you returned?" Armand's voice was icy, his gaze piercing. "I could speak endlessly of what you've wrought, but you would remain forever blind."