The underground chamber was finally quiet.
For the first time in hours, nothing cracked, bent, or hummed with pressure.
Quill's suppressors still glowed faintly, each plate drinking up the last traces of distortion that Malerion's breakthrough had created.
To anyone else in Lust Ring?
Nothing had happened.
To anyone except creatures who spent centuries surviving by sensing danger long before it arrived.
That's why Malerion felt it a presence moving toward Sin Rouge with heavy, patient footsteps.
Not curious.
Predatory.
Someone noticed anyway.
He phase outside, crossing through the quiet side of his territory. The neon signs flickered, no wind, no noise.
Then a tall figure appeared from a side alley.
A demon with crooked horns, scarred arms, and eyes that glowed with the dim hunger of someone who had lived far too long in Hell and climbed his way up through blood, not status.
Not a noble.
Overlord.
He sniffed the air slowly.
"…So it really was you," he said, voice low like gravel.
"Something cracked open tonight. Felt it from four blocks away."
Malerion didn't react.
The demon stepped closer.
"You're young. Shouldn't be carrying power like that. Something burst inside you."
He tilted his head, intrigued.
"And whatever it was, it wasn't normal demonic growth. Too… clean."
He smiled.
"Thought I'd take a look."
Malerion stood still.
"You came to challenge me."
"I came to EAT you," the demon corrected with a chuckle.
"If someone young gains an unnatural surge, they're either easy prey… or born defective."
He lunged without warning.
Fast. Heavy. Experienced.
The kind of speed demons earned through centuries of tearing others apart.
But Malerion didn't even blink.
His new power didn't roar or scream.
It folded the world into clarity.
One step.
shift of weight.
The demon's claws sliced only air and before he understood why, Malerion struck his chest with two fingers.
A pulse.
Precise. Silent.
The demon flew back and smashed into the wall.
"…what"
He pushed himself up, enraged.
"You you're not supposed to MOVE like that"
He charged again.
Malerion stepped aside like he was avoiding a falling leaf.
A twist of his wrist.
A ripple of force.
This time the demon slammed into the ground so hard the pavement cracked beneath him.
He coughed blood, bewildered.
"…What ARE you? No sinner fights like that. No Lust-born demon. No mercenary. You're"
Malerion stepped forward.
I'm training. shut up, I'm trying to concentrate
The demon swung desperately.
Malerion caught his arm, rotated it cleanly at the elbow, and forced him down with one fluid motion.
A final strike clean, efficient vibrating blade end his life
The body dropped, lifeless.
Malerion exhaled, letting the new equilibrium settle inside him the calm, the precision, the control.
This wasn't noise.
It was evolution.
Alastor's voice drifted into his mind, amused and approving:
"Well now… that was elegant."
Malerion didn't answer immediately.
He looked at the corpse.
It Sensed the burst."
"He sensed something," Alastor corrected.
"But he didn't understand it. No one will. Your system is yours alone. To others, it'll be nothing but… anomalies."
Malerion turned away and headed back toward Sin Rouge.
Good.
Let Hell feel the changes.
Them sense danger without understanding it guess and guess wrong.