"WHAT THE HELL DOES THE NAME OF THEIR SNOT-NOSED BRAT MATTER? You're playing games with me and I've had about enough!" Eyes wide, the figure balled up his fists, though he still didn't strike Sincentius.






The parents strolled past them to the window, paying no attention to the figure's outburst. Sincentius hardly reacted himself, instead calmly saying, "I'll make a deal with you. Ask them and if you still insist that I'm playing games with you, I'll take you back to the mine so you can return to work. Never know, maybe it'll pay off after another 666,666,666 years! But what do you have to lose by being here if I'm just playing games besides a few minutes of your time? You wanted proof, this is what I'm offering you. It's up to you now."

Calming down slightly, the figure stomped over to the young couple, grumbling about even a few minutes being too much time wasted. Standing next to the woman, the figure peered again into the nursery and asked, "So... uh... which one's yours?"

The woman glanced briefly at the figure, her eyes sad, before pointing at a crib near the window. The baby in the crib was a little different from the others. This one wasn't crying and the nurses tending to the other, noisier babies seemed to not only ignore him, they made sure to give his crib a wide berth.

"Something wrong with him?" the figure asked. "You two look like you're here for a funeral."