The nine demonic creatures, their forms a grotesque ballet of writhing muscle and bone, surged forward. Their movements were unnervingly fluid, their bodies contorting in ways that defied natural anatomy. Claws like obsidian shards ripped through the air, leaving trails of chilling darkness in their wake. Eyes, burning with malevolent hunger, locked onto their prey.They tore into the remaining Silver Gale sect members with brutal efficiency. One by one, the arrogant warriors who had so readily abused their power were reduced to whimpering, terrified victims. Limbs were severed, flesh was ripped apart, and bone crunched under the relentless assault. The air filled with the coppery tang of blood and the sickeningly sweet scent of demonic ichor.(Scene: Daltrin's Last Stand)Daltrin, his face a mask of pure terror, fought with the ferocity of a cornered animal. His sword, once a symbol of his power and arrogance, now danced desperately in his trembling hand. He parried blows, dodged attacks, and even managed to land a few strikes of his own. But the demonic creatures were relentless, their numbers overwhelming, their power far surpassing his own.He knew, deep down, that he was fighting a losing battle. But he couldn't give up. He wouldn't. He had to survive. He had to escape. He had to…(Scene: A Witness in the Box)Siddharth, huddled inside the large ornate box, watched the carnage unfold through a narrow crack in the lid. His body trembled uncontrollably, his heart pounded against his ribs like a trapped bird. He wanted to close his eyes, to shut out the horror, but he couldn't. He was frozen, paralyzed by fear and a strange, morbid fascination.He saw one of the demonic creatures grab a sect member by the throat, its claws digging deep into the flesh. The warrior's screams were cut short as the creature's jaws opened wide, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth. Siddharth squeezed his eyes shut, but the image was seared into his mind.He wanted to help, to do something, anything. But he knew that stepping out of the box meant certain death. He was no match for these creatures. He was just a restaurant owner, a simple man caught in a world of unimaginable violence.(Scene: The Fall of Arrogance)Daltrin, exhausted and bleeding profusely, stumbled. His movements, once swift and precise, were now sluggish and clumsy. His strength was waning, his will broken. He knew that the end was near.One of the demons, sensing his weakness, seized the opportunity. It lunged, its claws slashing through the air, tearing through Daltrin's leg just below the knee. A scream of pure agony echoed through the chamber as his severed limb fell to the ground. He collapsed, his body writhing in pain.(Scene: The Feast Begins)Dark, malevolent energy swirled around Daltrin, the demonic creatures closing in for the kill. Their eyes gleamed with anticipation, their jaws dripping with saliva. They were preparing to consume him, to devour his flesh and drink his blood.(Scene: A Desperate Plea)Siddharth's heart pounded in his chest. He couldn't just watch. He couldn't let Daltrin die like this, not even after everything he had done. But what could he do? He was trapped, helpless.Suddenly, a whisper slithered into his mind, chilling and otherworldly. It was Mrit's voice, cold and commanding.(Mrit) Eat the eyes and summon me…(To be continued…)