A deafening silence swept through Hell. The air itself seemed to pause, hanging heavy with disbelief. From the deepest pits to the highest spires, demons froze, eyes wide, claws trembling, wings faltering.
"Hades… is… gone?" one low growl muttered, voice quivering.
"No… it's impossible!" screeched another, claws digging into the scorched earth. "The Abyss… the Absolute… he cannot be defeated!"
They looked at each other, panic and incredulity spreading like wildfire. The ground trembled beneath their feet, the air thick with residual crimson aura, a storm of bone and death that marked the Red-Eyed One's passage.
The shattered throne pulsed faintly, golden light flickering and then dying, as if the heart of Hell itself had been torn out. Every demon felt it — the end of an era, the collapse of authority they had never dared question, yet always obeyed.
"This… this cannot be… Hades!" a female demon cried, wings trembling. "How… how could anyone surpass him?!"
Chains rattled in the distance. Kairo's aura lingered like a storm, crimson light casting long shadows across the pits and spires. He had walked through their god's dominion, broken it, and now stood as the unchallenged force in Hell.
One by one, disbelief became murmurs, murmurs became whispers, whispers became terrified cries:
"There's no way… there's no way he's gone…"
"Impossible… how… who could—"
"The Red-Eyed One… he's… he's the ruler now…"
Even in their panic, respect — or at least acknowledgment — seeped into the fear. Hell had changed. Hades had fallen. And Kairo had risen, unchallenged, unstoppable, and terrifying in his power.
The abyss trembled, and the Red-Eyed One's aura flared brighter, crimson waves washing over the landscape like judgment incarnate