154 Gramps!

The moment Marcus started drinking Mithras' blood, the Nerva King felt as if he'd nosedived into a volcanic eruption, sinking in a boiling ocean. The Weaver's pale-gray flames flashed in Marcus' eyes, supporting his flesh and soul as he attempted the legendary feat of consuming the Sun!

But here, Marcus connected to Mithras' soul, and his mind went reeling—overwhelmed and devoured by Mithras' memories! Marcus reformed in the Memory Hall of Mithras' Soul World, watching a projection of a tall and imposing youth standing by the edge of a mountain peak, with a flock of Sun-Kissed Birds flying around his neck.

Mithras—or so it seemed, at least. But though the youth looked like a golden-haired version of Mithras, as he looked at his gold and scarlet eyes, Marcus couldn't help…but shiver from top to bottom.

Wrong. There was something horribly wrong hiding behind those dazzling eyes. Just waiting for an opportunity, an excuse, to erupt and overturn creation.