The rain had stopped, but the world hadn’t gone quiet.
Not truly.
Kael sat alone in the throne room of the Devil’s Domain — if it could still be called that. The obsidian walls pulsed faintly with red veins of energy, alive and watching. The fires that once burned proudly in the great braziers had turned white, flickering without heat.
He hadn’t spoken in hours.
His throne — carved from the same black crystal that had once sealed the gates of the underworld — shimmered beneath his fingertips, absorbing the faint aura that leaked from his skin. The power inside him felt… wrong.
Not heavy.
Not vast.
Just wrong.
Every breath he took came with whispers. Every blink left flashes of golden light dancing across his vision — light that wasn’t his.
[System diagnostics: corruption level—27%
