The halls echoed with layered noise—measured footsteps crossing polished floors, low conversations overlapping in constant motion, and the occasional sharp crack of a gavel cutting through it all. Arkanis stood just off to the side of a set of tall double doors, his staff planted firmly at his side as his fingers tapped idly against its surface in a slow, steady rhythm. His eyes remained closed, his posture composed, but the length of his wait showed in the subtle repetition of that motion. He had been here longer than most, brought in first, judged first, sentenced first.
The doors behind him opened with a smooth, weighty push.
Armada stepped out, exhaling as though he had been holding it in the entire time. "Finally out," he muttered, his voice carrying a tired edge as he rolled his shoulders once.
"That took some time," Arkanis remarked, opening his eyes and turning his head slightly.
Armada glanced over, clearly not expecting him to still be there. "You got out first? I guess I shouldn't be surprised given how smart you are," he said, walking over to stand beside him.
"That, and the fact that being the current strongest Demon Lord, I was important enough to bring back," Arkanis replied evenly.
Beyond them, the space opened into a wide hall that bore all the structure of a modern courthouse, though shaped by Hell's own sensibilities. Clean, deliberate architecture framed the area—broad walkways, elevated platforms, and long rows of seating arranged with clear purpose. The materials, however, set it apart. Surfaces gleamed with muted luster, formed from platinum and gold alongside darker, heat-resistant minerals that held a dense, almost immovable weight. The combination gave everything a refined, durable finish without feeling excessive. Demons moved throughout the space in steady flow, some gathered in discussion, others passing through with little concern, and a few even sat off to the side with food in hand, treating the entire process with a casual normalcy that contrasted sharply with what had brought Arkanis and Armada here.
"It feels strange to be in Hell, seeing all of them just go about their lives while we were fighting in an invasion," Arkanis said, his gaze drifting across the scene.
Armada gave a small shrug. "I mean, we're just one Kingdom out of thirteen. Besides, King Domine kept his Seneschal running it while we were away."
Arkanis let out a quiet exhale. "I know that. But understanding and knowing is different from actually seeing it," he replied, then turned his attention back to Armada. "So… decapitation? A quick death compared to mine."
Armada's expression tightened slightly, and he gave a faint shake of his head. "Not as quick as you think. I got cut up a lot before my head got cut off."
Arkanis looked away again, his gaze lowering toward the floor as his fingers stilled against the staff. "I wonder who else died, how they died, and if they will even be given the life sentence…" His voice trailed for a moment before settling again. "…except for Rimus." His eyes remained downcast. "His soul itself seems to have been extinguished."
Armada shifted over and leaned back against one of the smooth walls, letting his weight rest there as he crossed one leg slightly over the other. "Not going to be missing him, being honest," he said, giving a small nod to himself.
Arkanis turned his head toward him, a faint, questioning look settling in his eyes.
"Okay, not because he was a demi-human!" Armada added quickly, straightening just a bit as if correcting himself before the thought could be taken the wrong way, "but because he creeped me out! The same goes for Lazgor! I hope he gets the death sentence!"
"On that we can agree," Arkanis replied without hesitation, his tone even. "Lazgor, as good as he is at buffing others, has always been a liability himself, given into his sin."
Another set of doors opened nearby.
Velastra stepped out, her posture still composed despite the visible fatigue in her movements. She brought a hand up, rubbing at her eyes briefly before sliding her sunglasses back into place, restoring some of her usual presentation.
"You look terrible," Arkanis said.
She turned her head toward him and gave him a sharp sneer. "I was burned to death, so sorry if I am not in my usual mood," she replied flatly.
Before anything else could be said, another set of doors opened again.
Nullivar stepped out, adjusting his clothing as he walked, brushing it smooth with practiced motions.
"This is your fourth death," Armada said, pushing himself off the wall, surprise clear in his voice. "How did you manage to get the life sentence?"
"Good to meet you too," Nullivar replied dryly, continuing to fix his attire before letting his hands fall back to his sides. "It took a lot of convincing, but I managed to get through to them."
He moved to stand with them just as yet another set of doors opened.
The movement drew their attention, and without needing to be told, the Demon Lords began to align themselves into a loose line as King Domine stepped out.
He looked… neutral.
There was no immediate anger, no visible frustration, nothing outwardly reflecting the scale of what had just occurred.
"Lord Domine," Arkanis greeted, inclining his head slightly.
King Domine turned toward them and walked forward, his steps measured and unhurried. "It did not go as we expected," he said, his voice steady. "And it seems not all those who died received the life sentence. A setback, to be sure."
The Demon Lords blinked, the lack of anger more noticeable than if it had been present.
"Is this where you reveal that this was all a part of your plan, Lord Domine?" Velastra asked, lifting her glasses just enough to look at him directly.
"No," he replied plainly. "It did not go to plan."
He continued forward, passing them, and the Demon Lords fell in behind him without needing instruction.
"However," he continued, "a non-insignificant amount of demons and Demon Lords are still in Aetheria. We will go back. Attack again. But this time, we will not do it in the grand manner as we did before."
They followed as he walked, the sound of their steps falling into a loose rhythm behind him.
"Mark my words," King Domine said, his tone unwavering, "despite this loss, we will take this one world, no matter how many times we are defeated by it."