The memory blurred again. Time moved hard and fast this time, skipping decades of conquest and consolidation.
When it steadied, I wasn't on a battlefield. I was standing in the Hall of Sins, the centre of the Demon capital.
It was a throne room that looked like the bridge of a starship built by someone who wanted to be obeyed. Pillars of dark alloy climbed toward a ceiling that was a living projection of the galaxy. The floor was polished obsidian, and it reflected the faces of the six beings kneeling on it.
The Demon Lords. The rulers of their factions. Divine-rank beings who held whole star systems.
The Lord of Wrath, a successor raised after Moloch's line failed.
The Lord of Gluttony, a vast, shifting bulk sealed inside a containment suit.
The Lord of Greed.
The Lord of Sloth.
The Lord of Envy.
The Lord of Pride.
All of them battered. All of them bowed.
Only one was still standing.
