Once again, Mirage faced the mirror in the center of the lair.
But the Infernal Lord wasn't there, he reminded himself as he glared at the flat black surface. And he didn't have to kneel. No, he stood with his back straight and head high, posture impeccably military as befitted one officer receiving another.
So Mirage could tell himself, but that didn't change the fact that the arriving officer held a higher rank than him. That he was here to take Mirage's command.
There was nothing Mirage could do about it, of course. Not when it was the Infernal Lord's will.
Mirage clenched his teeth, refusing to dwell on his latest humiliation. So what if the Infernal Lord had taken everything from him – his command, his dignity. He'd just claw his way out of the dirt like he'd always done.
But...it was different now, wasn't it? Because Victor stood in the usual place behind his right shoulder, a silent figure in black armor. For some reason, Mirage felt more conscious of him than ever. More than that; somehow with Victor around, he felt safer.
'What sort of idiocy are you entertaining?' he admonished himself. He couldn't trust Victor, just like he couldn't trust any of the troops who supposedly worked for him. Hell, he'd be wise to trust Victor the least, considering the human had no loyalty to the Infernal Legion itself. He just saw it as a way to protect his oh-so-precious brother.
Yet when he had given Victor the choice, Victor hadn't gone off to chase his brother. He had chosen to stay with Mirage.
'No one has ever – ' but Mirage refused to complete the thought. He was not that pathetic.
A ripple in his Levia snapped him out of his pointless musings. The other troops noticed it too, shooting to full attention. Even Melphi straightened from his usual slouch.
Lines began to spread across the mirror, formed of a power so dark they made the black glass seem like it was practically glowing. As they wove together into a diagram, the pressure of the Levia in the air deepened until it took all of Mirage's effort to keep his shoulders upright.
This was the power of the Infernal Lord, the only demon capable of wizardry. And it was why Mirage and everyone else here had chosen to follow him.
Finally, the diagram covered the entire mirror. There was a great crackle and rumble, similar to the sensation upon entering an arena. When it died down, the diagram was gone, but several wavering silhouettes had appeared inside the mirror.
The silhouettes grew clearer and sharper, then the largest one stepped out of the mirror as if crossing through a door.
His boots hit the black marble with a solid thud, loud enough to make some of the others jump. Mirage locked his knees in place, cursing the sickeningly familiar fear that swept through his body.
But he couldn't help it when the demon approaching was so massive, with shoulders twice as broad as his own. Tusks jutted from his lower jaw, while his bull-like horns were as thick around as Mirage's arm. Every inch of his body radiated hard, chiseled strength. Mirage loathed him already.
Not that he would let it show, of course. As the demon marched forward, Mirage lifted his chin and pressed his fist to his chest in a perfect salute. Even the Infernal Lord would find no fault in his posture.
This demon, however, examined Mirage with a critical glint in his beady eyes when he thundered to a stop. This close, Mirage felt acutely aware of the sheer difference in their sizes. This demon could probably crush his head with a single fist.
It surprised – and dismayed – him how plain the demon's uniform was. Not a hint of gold braid or medals on the chest. Most Legion officers took every opportunity to flaunt their rank; Mirage certainly had chosen to wear his fanciest uniform for a reason. But before this demon's stern austerity, he felt like a child playing dress-up.
"I am Colonel Lode Greisen." The demon's voice rumbled in Mirage's bones like a snare drum. "These are my most trusted soldiers."
About a dozen demons had followed him through, lined up in two stiff rows. Mirage had been so captivated by Colonel Greisen's presence he hadn't noticed them.
'Damn it, don't let him take control!' Keeping his expression bland, Mirage met Colonel Greisen's gaze. "I am Captain Mirage. Welcome to Earth, Colonel Greisen. If you require any guidance, I will freely offer whatever I can from my own experience."
Excellent. Even if he was giving up his official authority, it wouldn't hurt to remind Greisen he'd been doing this for much longer.
"Hm." Greisen's jaw tightened. "You certainly know how to talk."
A blatant insult. Well, Mirage could deal with that. "Thank you, sir," he said sweetly. "I believe it is important to – "
"Silence. I have no patience for idle chatter. You would do best to keep your mouth shut and execute the orders you are given faithfully."
Those beady eyes narrowed, sharp with disdain. A sadly familiar expression, but that didn't make it any easier to bear.
"I know all about you, Captain Mirage. Don't think you can flatter and seduce your way into my good graces. I only care about one thing: action. Results. Remember that well."
With that, Greisen took a threatening step forward. Before he could stop himself, Mirage scampered out of the way. Coward! But it was too late to take it back, and Greisen marched onward as if he'd never been there in the first place.
When he passed by Phantom and Ghost, he jerked his head in a slight nod. The twins didn't even bother hiding their smirks. Rage erupted inside Mirage, black and bitter as pitch. If he'd ever had any doubts about who had sold him out, they were well and truly banished.
But what could he do about it? Greisen had already taken complete control, and he'd made it clear that Mirage was worth as much to him as the dirt beneath his shoe, if not less. Even settling for second-in-command would be too much to hope for; that honor would most likely go to the twins.
Mirage bit the inside of his cheek, dug his nails into his palms, anything to stop the trembling that had seized his entire body. No. It couldn't end like this. He still held the rank of captain, and Greisen didn't have the authority to strip it from him; only the Four Generals did. He had to cling to that at least, pitiful a solace as it might be.
He stood to the side, feeling stupid and useless as Greisen's troops marched past. They wore austere uniforms like their commander, which only emphasized their bizarre features: fangs, claws, ornate horns, even spines on their backs and taloned feet. Every one of them, Mirage could tell, was a far stronger demon than himself.
Once the troops reached halfway across the lair, they halted and whirled around in a single smart motion. A display of their discipline, meant to intimidate. Mirage wished he could say it hadn't affected him.
Greisen stood at the front, hands clasped behind his back. "Our first order of business will be to find powerful thralls for us to use."
Of course. Without thralls, they couldn't accomplish anything on Earth. For the first time, Mirage felt a glimmer of hope.
"I consider myself quite the expert in identifying promising thralls, sir," he said, stepping forward with his hand to his chest. "Please allow me to offer my aid."
"Yes, you're the expert," Greisen snorted. "Which explains why you haven't enthralled your own wizard."
Ice jolted down Mirage's spine. And his alarm only spiked when Greisen stalked forward.
"Wait," he began, but Greisen had already marched past him. His side filled Mirage's vision, solid as a stone wall, then he came to a stop before Victor. In front of him, the normally imposing human looked tiny as a mouse.
With Victor's face covered, Mirage couldn't see his expression. Though somehow, he had the sense Victor was gazing back with his usual cool indifference.
Even when Greisen grabbed his chin, he didn't flinch. But Mirage lurched forward, his stomach twisting into knots. 'Get your hands off him!' a furious voice screamed inside his head. 'How dare you – '
But he didn't say it aloud, of course not. He was stupid for getting upset in the first place.
Greisen tilted Victor's chin up, forcing him to stretch his neck to what certainly must be painful extents. Yet the human remained stoic as ever, not making a single sound.
"How obscene," Greisen grunted. "A human wearing a demonic armor. Why have you not enthralled him?"
Mirage swallowed, trying in vain to find moisture in his mouth. He could barely hear his own voice above the violent thudding of his heart. "It...is simply what works to my advantage, sir."
"Hmph." Finally Greisen let go of Victor, giving him a little push that sent him stumbling back. "A demon so weak he needs his wizard to fight for him. You have no right to call yourself a soldier of the Infernal Legion."
The accusation burned through Mirage's blood. But he couldn't fight back when it was true. He knew better than anyone that he had never been strong in the way that mattered, the way a demon ought to be. He'd told himself he would find his own path to the top, but before Greisen's might those empty reassurances drifted away like hot air.
When Greisen glared at him again, Mirage felt his shoulders curl, his head dip. He couldn't stop himself from cowering; he was no longer thinking with his mind, just reacting from raw instinct. An animal submitting to a stronger beast in the desperate hope it would be spared.
"You and your human pet stay out of our way." Greisen whipped around. "Capturing the prince is a task for soldiers, not whores."
He stomped upon the floor and his soldiers resumed marching as if they'd never stopped. Greisen brought up the rear, hands clasped behind his back.
Ghost and Phantom fell in step behind him, quickly joined by Imago. Melphi at least had the grace to give Mirage a guilty sidelong glance before joining them.
Leaving Mirage alone with Victor. Master of illusions indeed. In the end, he'd never commanded anything real.