Alastor was yanked to the ground, his knees striking solidly against the floor.

He bowed his head, not bothering to get up. In a twisted sort of way, it reminded him of kneeling in church as he prayed to God for mercy on those people who'd been friends and family of his victims that had had no idea of their loved one's dark deeds.

It made sense. After all, down here, Vox was his god.

"I needed to keep up."