What… am… I?
The beast towered over me, perched on its clawed toes, its twisted and ugly flesh covered in layers of sharp, smooth black carapace. It looked oily. Monstrous. It had horns on its head and beady, glowing eyes that bore into mine and seemed so familiar. As familiar as a mirror.
The inquisition reacts to finding the inquisitior sliding around the freshly waxed floor in fluffy socks and asking them if they'd like to join