Silas hovered in the air, his eyes tracing the ethereal threads converging on the tower's apex. The sight stirred a grim realization within him. These weren't mere energy streams; they were the essence of human suffering, harvested from the souls trapped in this hellish realm.
"Del must have gone there," Silas muttered to himself, his jaw clenching beneath the demon helm. "It's the only place that makes sense."
With a thought, he propelled himself toward the imposing structure. As he ascended, the tower's obsidian surface seemed to absorb the very light around it, creating an unsettling void against the crimson sky. Silas's gaze fixed on the uppermost levels, reasoning that beings of power and authority typically claimed such lofty perches for themselves.
