CHAMBER OF DEMON KING 7
The chamber was quiet. The massive obsidian throne of Ferito Selo, the 7th Demon King, pulsed with infernal energy. Shadows flickered from the burning torches on the wall.
Suddenly, the ancient doors creaked open.
An old man, hunched, cloaked in rags, leaning on a gnarled stick, stepped forward—his footsteps echoing eerily.
Ferito Selo (snarling, impatient):
"Oi! Why have you come here, old man ? Speak your problem from the doorway and leave."
The old man let out a dry, cracked laugh—low and unsettling.
Old Man (smirking):
"Do you want my problem… or do you want to know your problem?"
Ferito's eyes narrowed.
Ferito (coldly):
"What are you blabbering about, worm?"
Old Man (voice turning grim):
"Your powers… all of them… is about to be stolen."
Ferito slowly stood, his muscles tensing beneath his demonic armor.
Ferito (in disbelief):
"What nonsense? What do you mean our powers are stolen?"
The old man's eyes flickered like ancient stars, and he whispered with reverence and malice:
Old Man:
"The Imperium Stone… the galaxy-ruling relic. A creation… of the Cosmic Gods themselves. Ha ha ha…"
Ferito's heart skipped. His fanged mouth hung open, curiosity burning in his gaze.
Ferito (voice low, intense):
"Cosmic God's creation? What… what is that power? Tell me."
He didn't even ask who the old man was. His hunger for knowledge overtook caution.
Old Man (calmly):
"Bring the rest of your Demon Kings here… only then will I reveal the truth."
EARTH — ELDRIN'S HOUSE, NIGHT FALLS
Tension grips the room like a vice. The furniture rattles faintly with the tense air.
Zoick, eyes burning with confusion and rage, has his fist clenched tightly around Eldrin's collar.
Zoick (yelling):
"Who are you really, you old brat?!"
Eldrin doesn't flinch. His voice remains calm like still water before a storm.
Eldrin (softly):
"What's happened to you all?"
Zoick (snapping):
"Enough! We've know your true colours!"
Eldrin (blinking):
"True colours…? What madness are you spitting, Zoick?"
EARLIER THAT DAY — In the home of eldrin and Rakhad.
We are pulled into a past moment.
Rakhad, silent and observing, hides in the shadows. He watches as Eldrin speaks into a Holocore device, his voice hushed but clear.
From the device, a voice crackles—direct and commanding:
Holocore Voice:
"Keep an eye on Keyokthai Shammroy. Never lose him again. If we do… we'll lose him again."
Rakhad's pupils dilate. A chill runs through him.
After Eldrin walks away, Rakhad steps in and notices an ancient inked scroll tucked away. The text is partially destroyed, but one line remains legible:
"DEMON LORD SHAMM ROY HAS BEEN DIED, EVERYO——…"
The rest is unreadable, faded by time and oil.
PRESENT — ELDRIN'S HOUSE
Back to the present. Eldrin gently pushes Zoick's hand away from his collar.
Eldrin (quietly):
"Do you know why I trained you all… so harshly?"
His eyes meet both Zoick and Rakhad. There is weight behind his words now.
Eldrin (firm):
"It was for him."
Eldrin (with emotion):
"Anything can happen. Any second. That's why I prepared you. Zoick, even you."
Rakhad (hesitantly):
"What… are you saying?"
Eldrin's expression hardens. He turns away and raises his hand.
A sudden swirl of energy opens a dark gateway in the wall.
Eldrin (commanding):
"Now is the time. Come out… and speak your truth."
The atmosphere shifts. From the shadowed corridor, slow footsteps echo. A figure walks into the light.
His skin is pale. His presence, haunting. His arrival marks the beginning of something far greater.