The Archdemon felt Fade's weapon slash through his body. Under normal circumstances, his grotesque body would regenerate endlessly, tethered to the core of his being in the abyssal dimension.
But now... Now, that connection was gone.
Severed. The blade, wreathed in living shadow, had cut more than just flesh. It had reached across planes, across veils, and sliced through the thread that anchored his immortal essence.
For the first time in eons, the Archdemon felt something foreign claw its way into his soul, a shrill, alien dread. True death, it was not exile, not banishment, but oblivion.
The laughter burst from his many mouths, louder than before, booming through the warped reality around him, as if to deny the very concept that he could be killed. But beneath the cackling, something primal writhed. It was not rage, nor was it hate. It was something that tasted delicious to a demon. It was Fear.
