Meanwhile, at the Sentinel's Headquarters…
All seven of the Sentinels sit around their meeting table in silence, waiting to hear Nazakiel's report. The leader of the Sentinels stares off into the distance, not saying a word.
"Is he going to say anything?" the one known as Franzel Ahrman says quietly to the demoness on his left. He pushes a tuft of his purple bowl-cut hair out of his eyes and adjusts his thick glasses.
"Hmph."
Franzel's bickering doesn't amuse Lamashti.
Solana, sitting next to Nazakiel, murmurs in quiet contemplation.
"Returned from afar - Our Leader prepares his speech - On the enemy."
Donatella puts her feet up on the table. She doesn't speak - she'd probably just get tongue-tied if she tried - and she knew better than to speak up in front of Nazakiel.
Within the Sentinels, they all have a rank relative to one another. And at #6, she's not in a position to complain or question anything."
