The ground was aflame, the landscape burning away as destruction roared atop corpses.

The bodies of the Scourge lay everywhere, broken and burnt, their systems and bodies both turning into fuel for the swathes of fire thst encased the battleground.

A single son of domination still lived. It lay on the floor, its legs had been torn off. A survivable wound, the missing legs weren't the problem. That wouldn't kill him.

But the devil would.

A devil walked through hell, dancing amongst the flame as if it was doing a ritual to summon them. Its hair was raven black, set upon deathly white skin as if he was a porcelain doll. Two horns emerged from its scalp. One was white, as if carved from light, ancient runes of writhing yellow were inscribed upon it. The other was its mirror, that being if one was the horn of an angel, and the other its reflection in hell. It was carved from darkness, with scarlet runes wbbung around it like blood vessels. One burned, blackened wing emerged from its right shoulder blade, fanning the flames around the devil as it danced.

The scourge didn't have fear. The system had fixed that. Fear was weakness, and weakness didn't exist within the scourge. All they had was the drive, and at most it was tempered with caution. But never fear, no, never fear.

So the scourge couldn't comprehend what it felt as it saw a devil slowly dance towards him. Its red eyes with golden pupils the shape of a cross fixed on the scourge. They glowed with insanity as it approached like some sort of Clown. The devil seemed larger than what it should've been. The shadow seemed more pronounced, and its every movement seemed to send ripples through the Scourge's body, making it shiver involuntarily.

The scourge reasoned it must have some sort of enzyme function, because its steel heart pounded furiously as the devil approached. Sweat formed from its skin. Not sweat from the fire, no the system gave heat resistance. It was something else. The scourge shuddered as the devil approached, its body no longer entirely under its own control.

"No", the Scourged breathed hoarsely.

Its system had reacted as the Devil had drawn within range.

URGENT ACTION

URGENT ACTION

ENEMY RECOGNISED

ADVISED ACTION

RUN!!!

The system had told him to run. It never had said that before. The Scourge was mesmerised by the bulging red letters across his vision.

Was the system, scared? No, it couldn't be. The system had been built for domination, it was incapable of computing fear.

The devil had reached The scourge now. Its eyes looked down impassively, as if the figure before him was nothing. An ant. Less than life.

The scourge looked back at him, tears forming in his eyes.

"M-Mercy," the scourge stammered.

The devil tilted its head, an amused expression on its face.

"Oh?, but could you repeat that? I couldn't hear you, you see, your brethren, they don't die quietly. It has done quite a number on my ears."

"Mercy. I-I beg of you. Mercy."

The devil smiled, revealing a row of brilliant teeth. It was more a flash of teeth than a smile, a predatory expression.

It knelt down, looking at him at eye level.

"Wow. So your kind can grow. Who knew you could learn something?"

"L-learn, what do you mean? ", the scourge stammered. Its speech centre was still being affected by the devil's enzyme function.

"Fear," the Devil replied. "You're scared. I know the emotion well, you see. I used to be the same for a very long time."

"F-fear?" Then the Scourge realised. There was no enzyme function. The devil was doing nothing to him. It was himself. The writhing worm that he felt coiling around his steel heart. It was fear.

That was the last thing the Scourge saw as it died. A mad devil dancing, dancing amongst flame and death, as if it was a ritual summoning the flame.

........

The prophet awoke. Turning, it vomited onto the floor, emptying out its stomach.

"Prophet?" beckoned a deep, commanding voice.

The Prophet fell onto its knees. The vision it had seen. It had seen it through the eyes of a soldier in the future. In a future.

"Your Majesty. I did indeed see something. It would spell the difference between achieving our goal, or extinction."

The General turned to the prophet. The General was a huge hulking figure, mainly obscured by black robes. Three eyes glowed through the darkness of the hood. They glowed a furious orange, boring into the Prophet.

"What was the vision about?"

"It was about a devil."

"What was the devil doing?"

The prophet smiled, its body still shuddering from the echoes of that alien emotion it had felt in the vision.

"Dancing."