The red sky over Ferrus cracked with lightning, illuminating the devastated battlefield below. The stench of burning sulfur and blood hung thick in the air. Jagged mountains pierced the horizon, and the torn ground was strewn with the bodies of demons, both elite and lowly.
Within the heart of the chaos, demons fought to be elected as the sovereign, but there was an unease, a dread that spread faster than the clash of swords. The air had grown heavier, thick with something more sinister than war.
Far from the frontlines, overlooking all the fighting from a rift to the dimensional nexus, stood Kalrus Cain, the Spirit of War. Clad in battle-worn black and silver armor, he exuded an aura of command and control. His eyes, cold and calculating, surveyed the battlefield as his mind danced between tactics. He was a tall, imposing figure, but not in size alone. Power radiated from him in waves, a power that reached far beyond the scope of this mortal world.
Kalrus snorted as he felt the pressure of the material world in check, suppressing the full extent of his abilities. Here, his spirit felt constricted as if it was bound by a higher will.
This was the curse of the lower realms and why felt would dare wander down here. Where the material world's natural barriers kept his power locked deep inside him with no way out. Yet, it was enough. For now.
"Everything is going as expected." Kalrus' deep voice was a low rumble as he addressed a cloaked figure standing a few paces behind him. "The demons think this is just another election. They haven't noticed the shift yet. Continue to sow confusion. Let them bleed for now."
The cloaked figure stepped forward, revealing the fair face of Arsolan, a seemingly innocent young man with long hazel hair that cascaded past his shoulders, and deep, emerald green eyes that glittered with mischief. There was something too perfect about his beauty, a charm that masked the danger beneath. Arsolan was no ordinary demon, he was no demon at all. He was a sprite dragon of fae descend, able to shift between forms, hiding his true nature among these lower beings.
Arsolan had chosen to infiltrate the demon forces for the duration of this invasion, disguised as a mid-ranking commander. His role was far more subtle than Kalrus'. While the Spirit of War was in command of the brute force, Arsolan's task was to manipulate from the shadows, influencing and observing, looking for the key to their mission. The godling.
"I have my eyes on them," Arsolan said smoothly, his voice soft, almost soothing. "They squabble among themselves like vermin. They won't notice anything out of the ordinary until it's too late. But… there's something curious about one of them."
Kalrus' gaze didn't waver from the battlefield below. "Who?"
"A demon named Thomas," Arsolan said, his tone measured, careful. "He is strong, perhaps even stronger than he lets on. He conceals himself well, fighting only with what seems to be Sin Force. But there is something... different. I can't put my finger on it just yet, but I will."
Kalrus grunted. "I don't care about some low-born demon. Focus on the mission. If he is the godling, deal with him. If not, let him burn like the rest."
"Of course," Arsolan replied, though his curiosity was piqued. The godling they were sent to find and kill would ascend soon, the last remaining of former rulers of the universe. But if it was Thomas, why hadn't he revealed his divine nature yet? Could it be that even he did not know?
Arsolan's smile was wicked, the glint in his eyes dangerous. The thought of playing with a potential godling before delivering him to his death was thrilling. There was something seductive about unweaving the secrets of a deity in hiding. Thomas would reveal himself in time, and when he did, Arsolan would be ready.
On the battlefield below, Thomas moved through the frenzy with deliberate precision. His long black coat fluttered in the hot winds of battle, and his sharp crimson eyes flicked between enemies with an intensity that matched the destruction around him. Sin Force crackled around his fists as he punched through a line of demon soldiers, their bodies vaporizing on contact.
But as always, Thomas held back.
The Sin Force he wielded was more than enough to deal with these lower demons and even the elite soldiers sent his way. Despite the carnage he left in his wake, he never released his true strength. He felt it, the suffocating presence of something more dangerous than these demons, something far darker looming beyond the battlefield. There were watchers in the shadows, higher entities whose power he had sensed long before the first assault began.
He could feel it. The air around him was heavy, not just with the oppressive heat of Ferrus, but with a weight that had no name. It clung to his skin like an invisible mist, making his body feel slow, sluggish. Even the energy of the planet seemed unstable, as if torn between two forces fighting for dominance.
A demon Emperor charged him, sword drawn, its serrated blade crackling with energy. Thomas barely moved, sidestepping with ease before landing a sharp blow with his Sin-infused fist, sending the general flying into a nearby rock formation with an explosion of debris.
More enemies came. Thomas fought methodically, calculated, never once revealing the deeper well of power within him. He could obliterate them all in moments, but that wasn't the point. He wasn't ready to show his cards. Not yet.
But he could feel the presence again. Watching. Waiting. And it wasn't one of the demons on this battlefield.
They're here just like Luccas said, Thomas thought. It's the Spirit World.
His instincts told him something was wrong, something more sinister than the war between demons. He could sense eyes on him, cold and calculating, assessing him. But he wouldn't react, not yet. He would let them think he was just another demon, another contender for the throne.
Inwardly, Thomas's power rumbled like a storm beneath the surface of his skin. He could feel it, itching to be released. The body of Eclipse, the heart of sin and the well of divinity sleeping deep within him, it all stirred at the presence of these invaders from beyond the material world. They didn't belong here, and though they were likely far stronger than even the most powerful demon, they too were bound by the limitations of this reality.
If they wanted to wage war on Ferrus, then fine. Let them.
But they wouldn't realize until it was too late that they were playing right into his hands.
Above, back on the ridge, Kalrus folded his arms, his eyes narrowing. "The spirits have arrived in force. It's only a matter of time now. Prepare to initiate the next phase of the invasion."
Arsolan nodded. "I'll watch him closely," he said, his smile barely hidden as he vanished into the shadows once more. There was work to be done, and the dance with the godling was just beginning.
Kalrus surveyed the battlefield one last time, the grin on his face spreading slowly. He was coming to Ferrus, and soon all would burn.