Far from Human Eyes… In the Depths Beneath This Earth
A rift expanded.
Not a portal. Not a blood demon art. Not an illusion.
But a scar on reality—like the earth itself had been wounded, and something had crawled out from underneath its skin.
The Hell Priest, gaunt and grotesque, cloaked in bone-stitched robes, stepped through first. He floated an inch above the ground, eyes glowing with infernal script. The smell of death and rot oozed behind him.
Following were the Hell Spawn—hunched, malformed things with gnarled claws and eyes that never blinked. Some scuttled like crabs, others hissed as acidic drool burned the earth beneath them.
The Upper Moons—Akaza, Doma, and Kokushibo—watched from the shadows of a ruined temple, hidden in the mountains.None of them spoke.
Until Doma chuckled nervously.
"What… delightful costumes! Are these… demons?"
Akaza scowled. "They reek of something else. Not Muzan's creation."
Kokushibo, ever silent, narrowed his many eyes. "They are not ours. They are not from this world."
A Hell Knight emerged next—towering, armored in seared bone and muscle. Then more followed. Hundreds.
And then…
The Dark Lord arrived.
A being of colossal presence—neither man nor monster, but something long ago forgotten by gods.
Wrapped in baroque hellplate, eyes burning like twin black suns, he didn't walk—he commanded gravity to accept his steps.
He ripped open the veil between realms like it was wet paper. And he entered… directly into Muzan Kibutsuji's lair.
Muzan's Chamber – Seconds Later
The silence shattered as the black air collapsed inward. Muzan turned sharply, instantly bracing himself—his body twisted with blood arts, a dozen tendrils whipping outward. "WHO DARES—"
He didn't finish.
The Dark Lord appeared before him. Taller. Broader. He didn't glow with energy—he consumed it.
Muzan's body screamed in every cell.
He tried to speak. Tried to rise.
But something deep within—the instinct of every cursed being—obeyed. He fell to one knee involuntarily, fangs bared in primal fear.
The Dark Lord didn't speak words. He communicated in will.
"You are not king here. You are dust… in the kingdom of fire."
Muzan's hands shook. His eyes, crimson and monstrous, twitched as every nerve betrayed him.
"W-what… are you?" he whispered.
The Dark Lord knelt, just enough to bring his terrible helm closer to Muzan's pale face.
"I am who your gods forgot. I am who your demons feared. I am the king of hell… and you, flesh-monger, are nothing more than an imitation."
He raised a single gauntlet-clad finger, and Muzan's body seized, forced to bow, forehead to stone.
"You are no lord of demons," the Dark Lord whispered, voice like broken earth. "You are a pretender."
Meanwhile… the Upper Moons Watched
They had not moved.They couldn't.
The lesser demons from Hell snarled, sniffing the air. Some clicked their tongues, unimpressed by Muzan's spawn.
A pink-hued crawler paused near Doma and tilted its head. Its jaws opened four ways, mandibles clicking in a mockery of a grin.
Doma smiled weakly. "Akaza… brother… I don't like this anymore."
Akaza didn't answer. His muscles were locked, teeth clenched so hard they cracked.
Kokushibo saw it clearly: these were not rivals. These were predators.
The world had changed.
And Hell didn't knock.
It walked in.