Lokus was lost underground.
Well, when he thought about it, 'lost' wasn't the right word.
That word implied that if he was on the surface, he would know how to navigate, to find his way to a city or other sign of civilization. But he wouldn't.
If he were on the surface, he would be just as turned around as he was down here. He didn't know anything about the landmarks, the stars, or whatever else would help him find his way on this demon-infested rock.
It didn't matter if it was night, day, raining, underground, or above ground, Lokus would have absolutely no idea of where to go regardless. If Lokus was lost, then it hadn't started when he fell down here. He had become lost the moment he was banished.
The thought was sobering, and soured his already dour mood even further, but he kept walking. Eventually, he had to come across something, right?
That unnerving gurgling sound went off nearby, and the grumbling of his stomach rose to match it, reminding Lokus of his hunger. He froze at the sound, then sighed tiredly.
Before, he would have done everything in his power to stay away from demons, but as his hunger continued to grow, he began to wish that he would encounter one. Killing it would be difficult if he was lucky, and impossible if he wasn't. But in this musty, dark hole in the ground, where his only company was his thoughts, every pang of hunger was something he was acutely aware of.
'Where are they?' he wondered.
Before, it was like he encountered a demon every other hour. In just the first day he had been here, he had encountered three of them, each one intent on chowing down on him. But now, it was like they had all vanished.
Were they avoiding him because he was sick? That was plausible, but the tiger demon had needed to sniff his blood to tell his condition. Other demons might be different, but they would still need to get somewhat close to smell the sickness on him, right?
Lokus severely doubted that they could tell he was sick from more than thirteen meters away, which was the range of his Domain. They didn't have eyes, for one, so they couldn't eyeball it, and he was too covered in vomit to-.
Ah, the vomit. That was probably how they were determining he was sick. Oh well, there was nothing Lokus could do about it. He was far away from the lake by now, and he wouldn't jump in it and risk drowning in its waters just to clean himself even if he was near it.
'But still, some food would be nice.'
It didn't even have to be a demon. He'd be more than happy with stale bread at this point, anything to fill the ever-growing void in his stomach.
Practicing Opening of the Celestial Gateways was a decent distraction from his woes. He had yet to increase his Perception again, but the way it made him focus on his breathing helped ground him.
After so long, he was effectively running on autopilot. He walked forward aimlessly, his Domain expanding and contracting along with his chest as he flitted from one thought to the next.
He hardly even needed to think about using the Throne anymore, and had gotten to the point where he used it almost instinctively, just like he did with breathing. Also like breathing, he could stop or start it on a whim, but with no reason to stop, he continued to use it.
It was an indeterminable amount of time after wondering where the demons were that the gurgling reached his ears.
Gruuuuuuugukguk…
He immediately paused, his breath catching in his chest. He was in the middle of inhaling, which meant his Domain was locked inside of him. But that gurgling was close, closer than it had ever been before.
Willing his Domain to expand to its full range, he cast about for the torturous sound's origin, but as if his Domain was a flame chasing away shadows, he found nothing.
Gruuuuuuuuugukgukguk…
Lokus' jaw set, and he hefted the makeshift bone axe in his hands. Was it finally going to make its move?
His eyes flitted to the screen of his system, eyeing his current condition.
[Condition: Healthy]
The lingering effects of the Demonic Grass were gone, and with it, his protection from the predators that stalked these caverns.
'Is that what you are?' he wondered. 'An animal looking for an easy meal?'
All this time, he had been wondering where that noise had been coming from. It being a demon was something he had considered many times, but he had been unable to confirm his suspicions due to its avoidance of his Domain.
It must have been stalking him for the past several hours, waiting for him to get better so it could turn him into its dinner.
A shame for it that Lokus didn't plan to go down so easily.
"Why don't you show yourself?" he asked the empty air with a smirk. "Or are you afraid of a small little human?"
Grugukgukgukguk.
A shape entered his Domain, and his smile froze on his face.
The gurgling that had accompanied him for so long, the thing that felt like a guillotine looming over his neck and made him sincerely question his own sanity, was nothing compared to what spawned it.
The thing that emerged was a mess of yawning, snapping mouths, each and every one of its pointy, flesh-rending teeth painted in sharp relief by his Domain. It slithered forward on a long, serpentine tail, and had two gangly arms that hung at its sides.
Its form seemed to flicker and distort at random, parts of it vanishing from Lokus' Domain only to reappear moments later, as if the world itself rejected the demon's presence and sought to expel it forevermore.
Its skin was rough and leathery, its ribs poked out through its emaciated torso, and the front of its head was covered by a mask resembling a human's face. This alone was enough to haunt a man's nightmares for months to come, as even with just Lokus' Domain, this mask felt almost TOO human.
Its surface felt exactly like human skin, and its lines and contours were traced with such delicate precision that the face could surely rival the most handsome of men. And yet…
There was something off about it, something out of place that was hard to put one's finger on. It was like it was crafted in the guise of a human by something that had only heard of them through stories. Its perfection was a source of imperfection, a fatal flaw in design that the creator could never account for.