It was a massacre in the heart of Arcadicia. The streets were painted red, corpses strewn in heaps that looked less like the aftermath of battle and more like cruelty displayed as art. Domine walked through it all with a slow, predatory gait, every step deliberate. He killed not with efficiency but with intent, dragging his claws deep into the back of a fleeing man so that the man's wife was forced to watch his drawn-out death, his screams breaking the night. Then, with a flick of his barbed tail, Domine crushed her skull, spraying the stones with blood and bone. His laughter rose above the cries of the dying. "Yes! This is it! The prime suffering I wanted!" he exulted, seizing the man's ruined body and hurling it into a wall, where it splattered into a smear of crimson paste.
"St-stand down now, you monster!"
Domine turned, three eyes gleaming. Four guards had arrived, halberds aimed but quivering in their grip. He licked his lips slowly, grinning wide. "Is this what accounts for defenses here?" he mocked. "Then come at me. Show me the depths of your resolves!"
Two of them broke ranks with a shout, charging. Their allies called after them, but it was too late. Domine did not move. He stood tall and still, inviting the blows.
The first guard lunged, thrusting for Domine's chest. Domine's tail lashed faster, the jagged tip punching through his throat and ripping sideways in a spray of blood before flinging him into the dirt like a gutted carcass.
The second guard's halberd drove straight into Domine's torso. It sank deep, both his forearms following through the flesh—but the weapon never pierced out the other side. Instead, the place it entered opened, a gap that swallowed the weapon whole. The man froze in shock as the living rift clenched shut. A grinding roar filled the air as jagged teeth erupted, shredding his arms to ribbons. His scream was shrill and unending until Domine's body sealed, devouring steel and flesh alike. The guard collapsed to his knees, staring dumbly at the stumps spraying blood. He lifted his head one final time before Domine's foot came down and crushed his skull into the cobblestone.
The two remaining guards were rooted to the spot. Domine's grin stretched wider, his mouth peeling into a grotesque expression that no human face could hold. One guard's body gave out entirely—hot urine ran down his legs as he shook in terror. Domine's grin widened further as steel glinted between his teeth. The broken tip of the halberd jutted out, then launched forward like a projectile. It tore through the air and impaled the terrified man, pinning him to the road with a wet crunch.
The last guard hadn't even processed it. One heartbeat his comrade was beside him—then he was gone, nailed to the ground like a grotesque sign.
"Well? Are you going to just stand there?" Domine asked, his voice almost playful.
But the man heard nothing. His mind snapped under the weight of terror. Dropping his weapon, he fell to his knees, curling into himself, rocking and sobbing as shock consumed him.
Domine's shadow loomed over him. His grin twisted as he reached down with clawed fingers, savoring the helplessness. But before he could seize the man, steel struck him in a blur.
Two slashes crashed into his raised forearms, sparks flaring at the impact. A thrust followed, so precise it would have pierced his heart had he not twisted violently aside. Another strike tore for his back; he bent at an impossible angle to avoid being split open.
Snarling, he whipped his tail in a savage arc, driving his attacker back and carving space. "Get off! Get off, vermin!" he roared, his fury shaking the stones. For the first time he had been caught off guard, ambushed by an assault so blindingly fast it would have killed anyone else.
He steadied, breath hissing through his teeth, and raised his gaze to see who had dared.
What stood before him looked like a man who had an unhealthy obsession with the color black. Every piece of his clothing was dark, even the wolf mask that concealed his face. The sword he had drawn carried the same shade, a muted darkness that drank in the light, its edge now stained with thin streaks of Domine's blood.
Domine's clawed hands curled tight as he glared at the stranger. "What are you? And how dare you strike at me! Demon King Domine!"
The masked man tilted his head, his voice dry and edged with mockery. "One of the guys who beat your asses back to hell five hundred years ago." With that, he raised a hand and pulled away the mask.
All three of Domine's eyes widened at once. His lip curled, his voice lowering into a growl. "You… you are still alive?"
"Yeah," Wolf said, his expression flat as he slid the mask back into place. "I still am. But you know what's sad? You seem to know me. Meanwhile, when I look at you, all I can ask is—who the fuck is this guy?"
The taunt hung sharp in the air. Domine snarled, but forced his rage back down, exhaling slow as his sneer bent into a grin. "I know what you are trying to do. I will not let it work." His tone carried an almost amused weight. Then, lifting one clawed hand, he gestured toward the portal that still pulsed far behind him. "You see, the thing is—even here—I did not come alone."
From the portal behind him stepped another figure. He was a man with platinum blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, carrying a rugged handsomeness that made him look both weathered and dangerous. Nearly as tall as Wolf—just an inch or two shorter—he wore an odd blend of attire: the weathered leather of an explorer layered with pieces of lacquered samurai armor strapped across his chest and shoulders of all things. At his side rested a scabbarded blade, curved like a katana but heavier in build, and a strange pistol holstered at his hip.
"Armada," Domine commanded, his voice edged with authority, "deal with this filth."
The man gave a small nod, his voice almost casual. "Whatever you say, boss."
He was standing fifty feet away when Wolf first laid eyes on him. Then, in the blink of an eye, Armada was directly before him, sword flashing free of its scabbard. It was no katana after all but a dao, its wide edge cutting down in a lethal arc. Wolf reacted instantly, his sword snapping upward, the collision ringing out in a sharp crack of steel against steel. Sparks leapt as the two locked into a sudden clash, neither giving an inch.
Armada grinned, almost cheerful despite the strain of the bind. "Hey there, nice block. Name's Armada, Demon Lord. Nice to meet ya."
Wolf's voice came through the mask, cold and sharp. "Yeah, I'm Wolf—the guy who's going to turn you into a bloody torso!"