The Summoning: Diablo’s Demonic Invitation

As the declaration of Diablo and Zegion's ascension spread across the world, the once fractured lands now found themselves on the brink of a new era. The ambitious, the power-hungry, and the curious all heard the call: the chance to join the ranks of the Demon Lords. Diablo, ever the strategist, had laid the groundwork for this grand event. The Walpurgis, a gathering of power unlike any other, would be the proving ground. Whoever could survive and prove themselves worthy would join the Demon Lords' new council, while the unworthy would fall in disgrace.

To bring the challengers to the Labyrinth, Diablo had devised a method that would strike fear and awe into their hearts. His subordinates, each a creature of unimaginable power, would venture across the world to personally deliver the invitation. But instead of simply sending messages or summons, Diablo's agents would use demonic doors—portals to another dimension—so the challengers could experience firsthand the overwhelming force of the new Demon Lords.

Each demonic door was a masterpiece in its own right, imbued with chaotic energy, able to distort the very fabric of reality itself. It didn't just transport the challengers—it pulled them through a surreal, nightmarish passage that left them gasping for breath. Through these doors, the very laws of space and time twisted. The challengers would enter a world within the world—the Labyrinth of Tempest, where the rules were set by Diablo and Zegion alone.

In the mountainous range where Zephyrion resided, the skies had already begun to rumble with the distant power of a gathering storm. A figure cloaked in shadow appeared at the heart of the storm. It was Nor, Diablo's Shadow Bearer, moving through the thick winds as though they were nothing. He approached Zephyrion's grand citadel, where the Storm Tyrant resided in isolation.

As Nor arrived, Zephyrion stood atop a massive, jagged spire, his storm-infused power crackling around him.

"So, the Abyssal Tyrant's invitation finally comes." Zephyrion smirked, raising his hand to summon a storm.

Nor didn't flinch.

"Indeed. Lord Diablo and Lord Zegion have heard of your ambitions. They are intrigued by your power, but they need to see if you are worthy of being part of the new council. You are invited to a Walpurgis, Zephyrion."

Zephyrion chuckled darkly, intrigued by the offer.

"A Walpurgis, eh? I shall join, but not to be tested—only to crush those beneath me."

Nor stepped forward, his eyes glowing with a shadowed fire. He extended a hand, and from it emerged a demonic door, swirling with chaotic energy.

"This is the way."

Zephyrion hesitated for a moment before nodding. The portal felt like it was pulling at the very fabric of his being, but the challenge excited him.

Without hesitation, he walked through the door, disappearing into the swirling vortex.

Xalvador, a dark sorcerer of immense power, had long been a recluse, perfecting his forbidden magic in solitude. When Nor appeared at his towering citadel, with the ancient tomes and arcane runes etched into its walls, the Crimson Sage was deep in thought, eyes glowing with arcane knowledge.

"I know what you want." Xalvador's voice rang out before Nor even spoke.

Nor was unbothered.

"Then you already understand. Lord Diablo and Lord Zegion offer you a chance to prove yourself. You are invited to a Walpurgis."

Xalvador's eyes narrowed, a smirk creeping across his face.

"You think I need an invitation to prove my worth? I've already crushed half the world's most powerful wizards. But I will go. After all, a Walpurgis sounds… entertaining."

Nor raised a hand, and the portal once again manifested—its colors shifting, ever-changing.

"Then you'll find yourself among the best of the best. Let's see if your magic can stand up to the others."

Xalvador's laugh echoed as he stepped into the demonic door, his form vanishing into the vortex.

Azariah, the Queen of Shadows, was known throughout the land for her cunning and her ability to manipulate both minds and realms. Her hidden kingdom, a city submerged in darkness, had no ruler but her. When Nor arrived there, Azariah was seated upon a throne of blackened obsidian, casting her gaze on a gathering of spies and informants.

"So, Diablo has taken notice of me. How… predictable." She purred, her lips curling into a sinister smile.

"You know why I'm here, Azariah. Lord Diablo and Lord Zegion have extended their invitation. A Walpurgis awaits."

Azariah's eyes gleamed with interest.

"A council of demons, you say? I've watched the old council fall apart. But Diablo's rise is interesting. I shall accept. And when I arrive, I'll be the one manipulating the others."

Nor's dark aura pulsed as he extended his hand toward her.

"This is the way."

Azariah moved smoothly from her throne and walked toward the portal, her eyes glowing with predatory intent as she stepped into the vortex, disappearing without a sound.

The last challenger was one who had long sought to rule over all others: Xyloth, the Demon Lord of Pride. His city was filled with towering statues of his own likeness, and his power to manipulate perception and dominate others was nearly unmatched.

"A Walpurgis, eh?" Xyloth mused aloud. "Diablo and Zegion… a truly curious choice of rulers."

He had heard the rumors, of course. Diablo's rise had shaken the world, and the potential for a new council had intrigued him. But could Diablo truly be the one to control the fate of the world?

"I will accept the challenge," Xyloth declared, his prideful smile showing no hint of doubt.

Nor, standing before him, extended his hand.

"The way is open. Lord Diablo and Lord Zegion await your arrival."

Xyloth stepped toward the portal. As he passed through, his powerful gaze lingered on Nor, who was watching him with an inscrutable expression. He disappeared into the labyrinth's twisted corridors, ready to prove that no one could challenge his dominance.

As Zephyrion, Xalvador, Azariah, and Xyloth stepped through their respective portals, they found themselves in a strange, twisted dimension. The Labyrinth itself was an interdimensional space, a place where the very laws of time and space twisted and bent. Here, they would meet one another.

The Labyrinth, while built into Tempest, had taken on a dark, foreboding appearance. It was an ancient structure of traps, hallways that led into different realities, and chambers that could drive a person mad with their disorientation.

The challengers found themselves standing in the center of a grand arena, an ethereal place where nothing was real… and yet everything was real. The walls, seemingly alive with shifting energies, thrummed with power. From the edges of the arena, the figures of Diablo and Zegion watched from their thrones—Diablo sitting with his hands folded neatly, while Zegion stood with his aura of command surrounding him.

The challengers, arriving from their respective realms, stood in awe as they gazed at the twisted grandeur of the labyrinth. The dimensional rift that had carried them here felt like the very fabric of existence had cracked open.

Each of them, despite their immense power, felt the crushing weight of the uncertainty of what awaited them in the Walpurgis.

"Let the true test begin," Diablo's voice echoed across the labyrinth.

He knew what awaited them. And they would soon understand that not all who enter will survive.