The Scent of Home, the Sting of Deceit

Mild sunlight brightened his skin the moment he pushed the doors open. A fresh breeze, the air so pure that his nose and lungs danced in joy, blew his messy hair and made his heart drum in his ears.

Scents of freshly cooked bread, meat, and nature melded in a delightful blend completely opposite to the toxic and frozen air of the abyss and Jotunheim.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath—how he had missed this simple pleasure.

Ignoring the passerby, he enjoyed it for a moment, noticing how demonic essence and life force filled the air. His body gulped them down as he gazed at the sky.

The demonic altar's branches stretched to the horizon. What had once been a stone structure became a full tree rustling with the wind.