Chapter 6
Teotihuacan, 200 A.D.
Malakion fished the small pyrite mirror out of his belt, fingering its edges as he steadied his hand around the fools’ gold. He moved closer to the chamber entrance at the top of the pyramid to catch the last few rays of sunlight as he moved the looking glass.
He had to convince only one person. One Nephilim, and the plan would work. There would be less that suffered if he could persuade him.
His dark eyebrows scrunched into a furrow on his forehead as he moved the burnished sulfide to so he could ensure his headdress had been fitted correctly. He smiled after he confirmed the different multi-colored feathers covered the top of his skull stood evenly spaced out, marking him with great importance. His long Cretan nose shimmered with the afternoon heat. He
