[Salone]

"Martyr?"

Na'lsa threw back his head, letting loose a malicious cackle.

"This body has expired time and time again, raising its corpse from the corpse of this earth because I say so. I approach with open arms. If they wish to bite the Son that they should embrace, then they shall see that like the First Son, I will rise again. They shall feel the sting of the back of my hand instead of the open palm if they spurn the grace of me and my Flock. I shall eat of their body and drink of their blood, and take their being into my own."

Na'lsa seethed, becoming almost delirious at the thought that he, Na'lsa would ever be cast out, would ever be rejected by any mere mortal that supposedly rejoiced under the name of The Lord. For he was the Child! The Second Son of God! The Holy Lion that tended to the Flock! Tender of Flesh of this world! He...

Realized how silly he was being. He had power, but he was not invincible. Especially not to an entire city. Flesh could only re-weave itself if there was flesh left to weave. He sighed, realizing his own limits.

"Very well. I shall approach as a guest; a visitor. If they do not take me as I proclaim allegiance, then I shall flee. I wish to see this city with my own eyes."