Jeviel smiled to himself as he waited in a descending elevator.
Even though the message was cut off early, he felt more than enough had been said to accomplish his goals.
It had been a long twenty years to get to this point, harnessing the crisis of faith bubbling throughout the city, growing not one but dozens of cults centered around leaders who were faithful to him and his view of the world. His path had been a quiet one, yet bloody all the same, and he'd sacrificed much to get to this point.
When his own guards rebelled against the city, he'd quietly exposed their plans for a coup, before spending much of the first decade beneath the Veil feigning contrition and bowing to the mere scion he'd once commanded. But he'd been patient, and through it all, he slowly gathered those with ambition, the lesser races who dared to think they could rise.
