Mystery: Last King

I dragged this heavy torso through the rainy night, with two eras of hunger burning in my stomach. Partly from the dead, it remembers the glory of the hunt; partly from the outer gods of the stars, it longs for a dramatic end. The Nighthawk poured me a glass of wine, with a wary look in his eyes and a glimmer of understanding. Klein Moretti tried to use divination to see through me, but he only saw a sea of ​​boiling darkness and cold scales. News came from my compatriots in the underground that they were living well, so well that "old antiques" like me were written on the extinction list. Well, everyone has a secret: believers in the sun have dreams they don't want to wake up from, their kindred hide in the underground country, and cultists have crazy fantasies. And I, Velez, am the deepest of secrets. I can hear the whispers of my kindred under the earth, that twisted philosophy. I can also hear the call of my "father" in the stars. Two voices are tearing me apart: one wants me to integrate into civilization, and the other wants me to bring the end.