Before the invasion
The chamber was hewn from obsidian, its walls veined with rivers of molten magma that pulsed like arteries, casting the room in a hellish glow. At its center lay a ritual circle carved into the floor—a five-pointed star, the lines filled with burning sigils that pulsed in rhythm with the magma. Coiled around its edges were serpentine cables, their ends snaking into a cluster of consoles that surrounded the circle like watchtowers. Each console flickered with streams of jagged glyphs, incomprehensible to most, but clear to the demonic engineers who tended them.
Their augmented bodies worked without hesitation. Cybernetic mandibles clicked as they bent over the displays, their additional arms—crafted from blackened iron and bone—danced across arrays of runes and switches with mechanical precision. Sparks hissed as claws adjusted wiring, every motion purposeful.
"Functions stable," rasped one engineer draped in crimson robes, its modulated voice echoing against the chamber's stone. Its glassy eyes swiveled toward the other, cloaked in blue.
"The subject's vitals are holding," the second confirmed, its mechanical lenses narrowing as it monitored the pale figure bound to the star. Wires punctured deep into the body of Kazon—the former demon knight—his flesh latticed with tubes that pulsed faintly with demonic energy as the circle fed into him.
The engineers straightened in unison, their movements rigid, synchronized. Together, they turned their gaze upward toward the figure looming beyond the light of the magma.
"We are ready for the portal, King Domine," they intoned in perfect harmony.
"Good. Keep it stable for as long as possible," the Demon King commanded, his voice heavy with authority as he stepped closer to the circle. The glow of the magma caught in the facets of his three eyes, each brimming with malice. "I want the bulk of my armies through first—every soldier, every war-beast, and all thirteen Demon Lords."
"Your armies will pass through," the crimson-robed engineer answered flatly, turning back to its console as claws tapped across the glyphs.
"We expect our payment after the conquest," the blue-robed one added without looking away from its display. "And should you fall, King Domine, we will claim your holdings as per the agreement."
Domine exhaled, the sound closer to a growl than a sigh. His gaze shifted to Kazon, bound to the circle, the wires lodged deep into his flesh twitching with each pulse of energy. "Tell me, former knight… are you suffering?" His voice dripped with cruel curiosity as his eyes narrowed.
"I…" Kazon strained against the agony. Every surge from the wires burned through his organs, shocking and searing at random intervals. His jaw clenched, breath rattling. "…Am…" The words scraped out of his throat like broken glass.
Domine's lips curled, the malice in his expression dimming only slightly. There was little sport in tormenting one so dutiful, yet the sight still pleased him. "You should feel exalted. With your agony, this world—the world that has cost us demons, demon knights, even Demon Lords—will fall at last. All of Aetheria will kneel before me. And you, Kazon, will be the vessel of its undoing."
Kazon's head moved in the faintest nod, his body trembling as he endured.
"Do not waste the subject's strength with your words," the crimson-robed engineer interjected, mandibles clattering as it keyed in commands.
"He requires every measure of energy," the blue one added sharply. "Without it, your armies cannot pass."
Domine turned his head toward them, then back to Kazon. He heeded their warning, suppressing the urge to draw out more anguish. His plan mattered more. "Very well. How much longer?"
The engineers worked in silence, claws moving in a blur as they flipped switches and adjusted the flow of energy. Finally, their hands reached for the master control together.
A single press.
Kazon arched violently, a shriek tearing out of him so raw and prolonged that his jaw unhinged. The circle flared with scarlet light, the wires inside his body igniting as if molten. His screams echoed across the chamber like the howling of the damned.
"Now that is suffering worth savoring," Domine murmured, eyes gleaming as the pentagram flared bright crimson.
Before him, space itself ripped apart with a thunderous crack. The portal bloomed wide, a gaping wound of roiling crimson energy.
"It is stable," both engineers declared together, their voices one. "You may proceed, King Domine."
A wicked grin carved its way across Domine's face, his teeth bared in triumph. "At last. The time has come to claim Aetheria." His words carried like a command, reaching unseen ears—thirteen Demon Lords awaiting the signal to unleash their armies.
He strode forward without hesitation, passing through the shimmering tear.
For the first time in millennia, the fresh air of Aetheria hit his lungs. The warmth of sunlight touched his skin, the humidity of Arcadicia settling on him like a forgotten cloak. He stretched his arms outward, savoring the weight of the moment. His eyes drank in the sight, his cruel satisfaction plain.
His expression hardened into triumph.
"Greetings, Aetheria."