The Decent of Demons
Perseus stepped in front, shield raised. "Don't—!"
CRACK.
Her shoulder collided with his shield, but the impact caved part of it inward. The force sent him flying into Eurydice and Darj like a cannonball, his back cracking audibly against the stone sending his shield flying. Boo darted right, spinning with twin daggers raised, slicing—but Miri was faster. She moved like something unborn, a blur of bone and heat, ripping a deep gouge through Boo's thigh with a swipe of her claws.
Miri's thoughts were not her own.
"They want to bind you. They want to break you again. They will chain you and drain you and bury you. KILL THEM FIRST.".. Nyxia didn't move—couldn't move—as Miri bore down, her tail slicing the air with impossible speed.
Then—
She shrieked.
A wild, feral, ear-splitting cry that scraped down every spine in the coliseum like rusted knives.
One hand raised lazily from his viewing box. His void-red eyes narrowed in irritation, his smile fading into a flat line.
"She wasn't meant to turn on them."
He flicked his fingers.
Then the sky split.
A tear split the sky above the pit—not air, but reality. A jagged crack that screamed as it opened, and from it crawled nightmares from the void.
The stench came first. Sulfur and ash, rotting viscera and ancient blood soaked into wood and iron. It hit like a wave—warm, wet, and wrong. People in the upper stands vomited instantly. The perfume-drenched nobles soiled themselves. Even hardened mercenaries dropped their weapons and screamed.
A Felguard dropped first. Eight feet of rage wrapped in rusted metal fused to rotted flesh. Its jaw dangled sideways. Its eyes burned with nothing. Its axe dripped with nerves that twitched when it swung—alive and wanting.
Felhunters followed. Blind, wet beasts with eyeballs pulsing in their chests, tongues dragging like leeches. They scuttled across the walls, leaving slime that hissed on stone.
Imps—dozens—gibbering, their bones outside their bodies, some dragging their own intestines, others floating and bursting midair into burning pus.
A Succubus, crawling like silk over corpses, lips split to her jawbone. Her whip dragged the tongues from dying men without a cut.
A Voidwalker, silent and bloated, weeping tar from orifices it didn't have.
The Blasphemy—a walking cathedral of gore. Bell arms. A back that sang hymns backward in a thousand voices. A stomach that writhed with clawing hands.
And the Darkglare—its singular, endless eye opening above like a god that had forgotten mercy.
It blinked.
A man in the stands exploded, spraying bone and bile.
⸻
A war had come.
And no one was ready.
Nyxia's breath caught in her throat.
She gagged, half-collapsed over her polearm as her knees buckled.
Her eyes went wide, tracking the sky like prey caught in moonlight. The void—she knew it. She'd touched it once, in dreams. But this wasn't a whisper in her mind. This was the scream of forgotten gods.
She couldn't breathe.
She couldn't move.
All she could do was stare and tremble.
Boo staggered sideways, nearly falling.
"What the fuck—" Her words drowned in a cacophony of screams from the bystanders. Her hands tensed around her polearm as the she watched the demons descend upon the masses.
Her head snapped up.
She'd seen terrible things.
But this…
Even she couldn't speak.
Perseus turned slowly.
The void above. The creatures emerging. The chaos…
And then his eyes caught Miri.
Still as death.
Her pupils were blown wide. Her shoulders were tight, every muscle twitching under her blood-slick skin. Her fingers dug into the dirt, and her lips peeled back into a snarl that wasn't human.
He took a step forward.
"Miri—"
And then—
She charged.
⸻
A scream tore from her lips. Not human. Not beast. Something worse. Something that had no name.
Her body launched like a cannonball, slamming full force into Perseus's chest. His ribs groaned. His feet left the ground. The sheer impact drove him straight back into Darj and Boo, bowling them all into a heap of flesh, armor, blood.
The air left his lungs in a choked gasp.
He hit the sand.
And she was on him.
The collar burned against her throat, humming like a lover's moan.
"They will cage you again." Came the voice in her head
She shrieked.
And slashed.
The first claw tore across his chestplate, carving sparks and flesh. The second aimed for his throat—he blocked it, barely. Her claws scraped his cheek, slicing clean through skin and leaving blood like dark wine trailing down his jaw.
She bit him.
Her teeth sank into his shoulder plate and crunched, drawing blood through the seams.
He screamed—and it thrilled her.
Another slash.
Another.
Blood splashed up her face, warm, sweet.
She was on top of him, breathing ragged and hot, her entire body pressing down like a demon riding the wind.
Her thighs anchored around his ribs like a vice, her claws hammering his armor again and again—each strike biting deeper.
She wasn't the woman he'd seen in the pit.
She was something else now.
A god-starved animal in heat and blood.
He caught a glimpse of her eyes—blood-ringed, pupils wide as dinner plates, jaw slack with fury.
She raised a claw again.
His throat exposed.
And he realized—
This was how he'd die.
Not in glory. Not in penance.
But beneath a woman broken by the void, while his own comrades bled around him.
"Nyxia—!"
It left him in a strangled gasp. A prayer. Not for help.
For forgiveness.
He might not survive this.
She heard him.
Like a distant sound underwater at first. Like a bell tolling beneath the tide.
His voice—cracked, desperate, afraid.
And hers.
"Nyxia."
The world snapped back into focus.
Her breath caught.
Perseus.
Pinned.
Bleeding.
Helpless.
Under Miri.
No.
No.
NO.
Nyxia screamed void energy tearing through her body like an unwelcome guest
Not words.
Just raw, ancient fury.
And she launched herself.
⸻
She crossed the sand like a blur, her feet barely touching the ground. A shadow with snow-leopard grace and predator's rage.
Void like fangs elongated over her own canines. Her nails now void claws unsheathed, her bond with Loque rendered void fire ears and tail.
And she threw herself onto Miri's back with a force that shook the earth.
They crashed sideways, Perseus gasping beneath them, blood streaking down his neck.
Nyxia didn't hesitate.
She sank her fangs into the side of Miri's neck—right where flesh met shoulder.
The taste of blood and void hit her tongue. Salty. Metallic. Wrong.
Miri shrieked—truly shrieked, jerking beneath her like a snake set ablaze.
But Nyxia didn't stop.
Her void claws—dug deep into Miri's sides.
Deeper.
Tearing.
Flesh split.
A rib cracked beneath her grip.
Still—Miri fought.
Still—she bucked like a beast.
Nyxia held on.
Growling. Spitting blood. Her voice an unholy snarl in the space between woman and beast.
"You don't get to take him from me." Nyxia snarled, low, distorted and possessive.
Loque circled them both, glowing like a wrathful god, snarling and snapping with ghostlight fangs. For a second, just one, Miri faltered.
Perseus moved.
He shoved off the ground with all his weight, planting one foot hard—
—and with a grunt of pure force and fury, he drove his boot into Miri's exposed stomach.
The impact sent a shockwave of blood and breath exploding from her lungs.
Both she and Nyxia were launched, their bodies ragdolling backward through the blood-slick sand.
They crashed into the stone wall of the pit—Nyxia breaking the fall, Miri's full weight landing atop her with a sickening thud. Bones knocked. Groans ripped free. Dust and blood clouded the air.
For a heartbeat…
Silence.