The Demon's Response

The crimson sky above the Rift churned with storm clouds like blood circling a drain. Lightning spidered through the heavens, flashing purple and green. At the heart of this blighted realm, Rift Castle loomed as it always had—silent, imposing, eternal.

But within its throne hall, silence had become tension.

The Lady of Illusion was gone.

And her death—at the hands of a mortal—echoed like a gong of war through the obsidian spires.

The Demon King sat unmoving on his throne, the lightless black stone cradling his armored form like a coffin lid. He did not speak. He didn't need to. His generals had already gathered, summoned by the moment the Lady's essence had vanished.

Lord Destruction was the first to kneel. Massive and imposing, he wore armor seared with the runes of extinct war gods, and his warhammer clanked heavily on the floor as he bowed his head.

"She is dead," Destruction said flatly, as if to confirm what all already knew.