First time teleporting

"Not so lucky, actually," The turbaned demon's gravelly voice cut through the temple's ancient air like a blade through silk.

He adjusted his ornate turban, jewels catching the torchlight as he fixed Daemon with a cold stare. "The Seat of Helheim doesn't recognize you as a surviving citizen. You're on your own. No job, no friends, no home."

Kiend tilted his head, his blonde hair shifting as he studied his companion. "Adrika, why is that necessarily a bad thing?"

The bounty hunter's blue eyes held genuine curiosity, though there was something calculating behind them that made Daemon's skin crawl.

The demon named Adrika let out a long, weary sigh that seemed to carry the weight of centuries.

He turned toward the temple's entrance, his heavy footsteps echoing off the stone walls. "Whenever you have some bounty to catch, you know where to find me," he called over his shoulder, dismissing them both with the casual indifference of someone who had seen too much and cared too little.

Kiend's laughter followed the demon's retreating figure, the sound bright and somehow dangerous in the sacred space.

"Watch out for Adrika," he said to Daemon, his voice dropping to a more conversational tone. "He's one of the few good demons." Then, so quietly that Daemon almost missed it, he added, "But he'd betray anyone at a moment's notice."

Daemon felt a groan escape his lips, exhaustion and confusion warring in his chest. "Is that supposed to be a good thing?"

"In hell?" Kiend's grin was sharp as broken glass. "Absolutely. At least you know where you stand with him." He gestured toward the temple entrance, where Adrika's silhouette was disappearing into shadow. "Come on, we should get going."

They walked through a series of long passageways, their footsteps creating an odd rhythm against the ancient stone.

Torches lined the walls at regular intervals, casting dancing shadows that seemed to follow their movement.

The air grew colder as they moved away from the temple's heart, and Daemon found himself studying the intricate carvings that covered every surface.

"Where did you find that bird-cow thing?" Daemon asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

The image of the drained Lamassu carcass was still fresh in his mind, and he needed to understand what he'd stumbled into.

"Oh, the Lamassu?" Kiend's tone was casual, as if they were discussing the weather. "Got it from the black market at a huge price. Completely wasted on you, I'm afraid."

"Oh." Daemon felt heat rise in his cheeks, though he wasn't sure why he should feel guilty about something that wasn't his fault.

Kiend glanced at him sideways, then burst into laughter. "Don't feel guilty about it. I stole the damn thing anyway, didn't pay a single coin."

Daemon gave him a look that could have curdled milk. "You stole it?"

"Welcome to hell, kid. Moral flexibility is a survival skill."

They emerged from the temple into a landscape that was both beautiful and terrible.

An endless desert of ice and snow stretched before them, the frozen wasteland glittering under a sky that held no sun.

The cold hit Daemon like a physical blow, seeping through his clothes and into his bones with vicious efficiency.

He began to shake almost immediately, his body rebelling against the arctic temperature.

God, he thought, wrapping his arms around himself, I'd give anything for the warmth of the village before it got destroyed.

"What's next for me?" Daemon asked through chattering teeth. "I have no idea what souls in hell, or the ninth circle actually do."

Kiend shrugged, seemingly unaffected by the brutal cold. "Nothing much. Get a job, get a home, get into fights, get a wife if you want one. Continue living forever until someone kills you, if you're lucky."

"That's basically like Earth," Daemon muttered, finding the observation both comforting and deeply disturbing.

"Pretty much," Kiend agreed. "Though if you're ambitious and powerful enough, you could awaken a system. Join the ninth circle's human branch, or the human rebellion. Whichever way you want to die first."

Daemon's hand instinctively moved to his chest, where he could feel the familiar pulse of his own system.

The knowledge that he already possessed what Kiend described as a mark of ambition and power made him cautious.

Trust was a luxury he couldn't afford, especially not with someone who casually admitted to theft and worked alongside demons who would "betray anyone at a moment's notice."

"Maybe I should join you in bounty hunting," Daemon suggested, testing the waters.

Kiend's laughter was rich and genuine. "You're too young for that kind of work."

"Young?" Daemon frowned. "I'm..."

"You're basically a few days old in hell," Kiend interrupted. "I've been here for over 113 years. Died on the Titanic, if you can believe that. Freezing water, screaming passengers, the whole dramatic affair."

Before Daemon could process that revelation fully, Kiend's hand shot out and grabbed his arm.

The frozen desert began to zoom past Daemon's vision in a dizzying blur, reality bending and twisting around them.

His stomach lurched as the world compressed and expanded, colors bleeding together in impossible ways.

Suddenly, they were standing in front of a small, dingy bar with a sign that read "Unfreeze Your Frozen Butt's Bar for Drunkards" in faded, peeling paint.

The transition from arctic wasteland to urban environment was jarring, people moved about on cracked sidewalks, bundled in layers of mismatched clothing.

A man who had been walking past stopped dead in his tracks, staring at their sudden appearance with wide eyes before quickly recovering and hurrying into the bar.

"What was that?" Daemon gasped, his head spinning from the abrupt teleportation.

When he looked at Kiend, the air around the bounty hunter shimmered slightly, and suddenly Daemon could see it, a translucent interface hovering just behind Kiend's shoulder:

OUTSIDER

- External Energy(11)

- Physical Energy(6)

- Negative Energy(2)

- Spiritual Energy(1)

Active Abilities(level below ten)

- System Base. External Energy. Teleport to mark.

- System Base. Physical Energy. Reinforced bones.

-System Base. Negative Energy. Adrenaline.

- System Base. Spiritual Energy. System Read.

Active Abilities(Level 10+)

- System Peak. External Energy. Spatial Fold.

Daemon's eyes widened as he realized what he was seeing. Kiend had a system, and it was visible to him.

"Teleportation," Kiend said simply, as if that explained everything.

"How did you.."

"Much too young," Kiend interrupted with another laugh.

He reached out and clasped Daemon's hands together tightly, his grip surprisingly warm despite the cold. His smile was genuine, but there was something final about it that made Daemon's chest tighten. "I hope we meet again, Daemon Fallenstar."

Before Daemon could respond, the air began to bend around Kiend in a visible vortex.

The bounty hunter's form twisted and compressed, reality folding in on itself until he simply wasn't there anymore.

The sudden absence left Daemon feeling strangely bereft, as if he'd lost something important he hadn't known he possessed.

He looked down at his hands and discovered four silver coins pressed into his palm, their surfaces warm from Kiend's touch.

The metal was unfamiliar, marked with symbols that seemed to shift and change when he wasn't looking directly at them.

Daemon sighed, pocketing the coins as he studied the bar's weathered facade.

The paint was peeling, the windows were grimy, and the entire structure looked like it might collapse if someone sneezed too hard. But it was shelter, and right now, that was more valuable than pride.

"Find a way to get out of here," he muttered to himself, psyching himself up for whatever waited inside. "But in the meantime, get a job, get somewhere to sleep."

He pushed open the door, a rusty bell announcing his arrival with a mournful clang.

The interior was dimly lit and filled with the smell of stale alcohol and unwashed bodies.

Conversations died as heads turned to study the newcomer, and Daemon felt the weight of hostile scrutiny.

He took one step forward, then a massive fist connected with his face.

The punch landed with devastating force, snapping his head backward and sending stars exploding across his vision.