(Continuation—Surface]
The underworld pulsed like a living wound— veins of red light slithering through stone, breathing smoke and heat into the endless dark. Venom stood before the fractured black crystal that reflected the chaos in the human race, his clawed fingers gliding lazily along its surface. His red eyes flickered as the image shifted: the once-vibrant poolside now a burning cradle of fear and screams.
"Beautiful," he murmured. "So fragile… Fear— humans are so predictable." He hissed.
The vision rippled. The demon hive— the monstrous creation of his wrath— loomed over the trembling mortals. It was a grotesque fusion of smoke and flesh, wings like torn shadows, its mouth wide enough to swallow the light. It moved slowly, savoring terror and feeding on the panic.
But then, two figures emerged from the distortion— cutting through the fear like twin streaks of energy.
Valkyrie.
And beside her was Bulb.
