The night lay cold, a chill permeating through the air. A man studies a vial, softly glowing orange. "It will work" he chants, "they won't die." another man shakes his head, letting a low chuckle through the air. "isn't changing fate what led to your banishment? it led to my enslavement. let it go." The first man slams his hand down onto the table. "It will work and you shall help me or suffer as you have never suffered before!" The second man stops chuckling, before slowly looking up. he glares with venom in his glazey eyes before speaking before the man, no the monster before him. "if, no once this blows up in your pitiful face, I will be the one holding thy chains. mark my words; a human can't become a god."