Inside a grand chamber of obsidian and deep crimson, shadows danced across the polished floor like living things, reflecting off towering columns etched with ancient symbols. The ceiling arched high above, supported by pillars adorned with finely detailed carvings of creatures both majestic and monstrous. Darkened tapestries hung along the walls, their intricate patterns woven with threads that shimmered faintly in the dim light, depicting battles, pacts, and the history of long-forgotten realms. At the far end of the room stood a massive throne, carved from the same black stone that made up the rest of the hall, but with veins of red that pulsed faintly, as if the throne itself was alive.
Before this throne, a man kneeled, his head bowed low not only in deference but in fear. He dared not look up yet. Sitting before him was no mere demon, no creature of Hell's ranks, but one of the Kings themselves—King Domine.
Domine's presence was both commanding and terrifying, his form towering at eight feet tall. His body, a mixture of sleek, exoskeletal armor and the sinewy musculature of an athlete, was the color of shifting shades of black, like the deepest shadows that never stayed still. His hands rested on the arms of the throne, long, clawed fingers tapping lightly against the stone. Each claw gleamed with a wicked sharpness, though he remained still, his power radiating from him without effort.
Only his face was human—a stark contrast to the rest of his demonic form. Handsome and strong, his features were almost regal, save for the ashen pallor of his skin. His black hair, dusted with flecks of grey like burnt ash, framed his face and fell to his shoulders. From his brow, two horns curved upward, elegant yet menacing, their dark surface shimmering faintly as if they had absorbed centuries of malevolent energy. The horns themselves twisted with a natural, regal grace, forming a crown-like presence atop his head.
Three eyes peered down at the kneeling man—two burning red irises that resembled a serpent's gaze, full of intelligence and cruelty, while the third, vertical eye on his forehead glowed faintly, giving him an omnipresent sense of awareness. His tail, long and barbed with rows of tiny, vicious spikes, coiled slowly behind him like a serpent ready to strike.
"You went behind my back to attempt this," Domine's voice, deep and chilling, reverberated throughout the chamber, the fury beneath it coldly restrained. "And yet you failed, without so much as gaining a foothold? I expected more from you—and your lord, Kazon." His eyes narrowed, the intensity of his third eye searing into Kazon as he knelt, unarmored but still very much alive, his fear palpable.
Kazon swallowed, his head sinking even lower as he trembled before the demonic king. "I am sorry, my King," he said, his voice shaking. "I have no excuse for our failure." He raised his head just enough to meet the King's piercing gaze, his amethyst eyes locking with the King's glowing, red ones. "I will accept whatever punishment you deem necessary, even if it is death."
King Domine stared at him, unmoved, his face a mask of cold judgment. The tension in the room thickened as Kazon awaited his fate.
Suddenly, a soft voice cut through the silence, playful yet with an edge of danger. "Don't do anything too bad to him, my King."
Kazon felt a hand ruffle his hair gently, and he stiffened at the touch. The voice belonged to someone unexpected—a young girl, or at least, that's how she appeared. She stood beside him, her fingers trailing through his blond hair, which had streaks of pink and purple running through it. The girl's eyes sparkled with mischief, and a smirk played on her lips. She seemed no older than fourteen, her small form adorned in a frilly black dress that seemed more suited to a doll than a denizen of Hell.
If not for the fact that she was a Demon Lord.
"After all, nothing of value was lost," she continued, her smirk widening as she glanced up at King Domine. "Unlike last time."
"Lady Vorrathys, you should not—" Kazon began, but his words were cut off as the girl tapped him lightly on the head, a silent command to hush. She stepped forward, positioning herself between him and the towering King Domine, her presence deceptively delicate.
"My King," Vorrathys began, her voice sweet but layered with a cunning edge. "Punishing one of the few demons worth anything in Malvorr's group isn't going to help our cause. Instead of the usual villainous act of making an example," she smiled, "why not take real action against the world that has now survived not one but two demonic invasions?" Her tone was laced with amusement, as if mocking the idea of failure.
King Domine leaned back in his throne, his eyes closing, not just to contemplate her words but to quell the fury that simmered just beneath the surface. His claws, still resting on the throne's armrests, tapped rhythmically in the silence. "Are you suggesting I send you this time, Vorrathys?" he asked, voice calm yet carrying a dangerous undercurrent, eyes still closed as if already bored with the conversation.
The Demon Lord gave a careless shrug. "If that's what you desire, my King," she replied, her tone nonchalant. "It's entirely up to you. You hold command, after all." Her smirk widened, clearly enjoying the exchange.
King Domine opened his eyes slowly, their glowing intensity focused solely on Vorrathys as he rose from the throne. His towering form moved toward her and Kazon, each step deliberate, like a predator deciding whether or not to pounce. He loomed over them, his demonic frame casting an imposing shadow.
"I will not send you," he said coldly, his voice filled with certainty. Vorrathys's smirk faltered ever so slightly, a brief flicker of surprise crossing her face.
"You won't?" she asked, this time genuinely curious. Her confidence wavered, not used to being dismissed so easily.
Domine's lips twisted into a sinister grin, his sharp teeth gleaming in the dim light. "No. You would most likely fail as well." Vorrathys flinched, her once-bold demeanor cracking under the weight of his gaze. "Instead..." His grin deepened, dark amusement coloring his words, "I'll send all of you. And not only that—" He leaned forward, his massive form bending to bring his face inches from hers, "I'll be coming along myself."
Vorrathys stared at him, momentarily speechless. "What?" she breathed, the word slipping from her lips before she could stop it.
Domine placed a heavy hand on her shoulder, his grip a mockery of comfort. "Gather the other Demon Lords under my command," he instructed, his tone filled with finality. "We're going to erase that entire world." His eyes, now filled with an unholy fire, drifted to Kazon, who remained kneeling. "And Kazon," he called, his voice drawing the demon knight's attention fully.
Kazon looked up, meeting his king's gaze. "Yes, my King?"
"You," Domine said, a cruel smile tugging at the corners of his lips, "will be the Catalyst."
Kazon, showing no fear, merely nodded. "Yes, my King," he replied without hesitation, his fate already sealed.
Domine released Vorrathys's shoulder, satisfied with her silence, and turned away from the two of them, his long tail flicking in irritation as he moved toward the massive doors that led out of the throne room. "I'll ensure the 'Devil' isn't aware of this," he said, his voice dark with amusement, as though the very idea of the Devil himself opposing him was laughable.
He paused at the threshold, glancing back for a moment, eyes glittering with malice. "Thought she could play me, did she?" His voice was low, almost a murmur, but it carried through the chamber. He chuckled to himself, his laughter cold and biting. "How quaint."
With that, the doors shut behind him, leaving the bewildered Vorrathys and the ever-stoic Kazon alone in the eerie silence of the throne room.