"Lylon!" Sarai barked. "Keep trying! I'll hold off the incoming disaster—whatever it is—for as long as I can."
"Huh? Wh-what do you mean?!" Lylon asked, holding his wife close, stunned by the sudden turn.
"Shut up and do what I say!" Sarai snapped, casting him a glare. "And stop smearing your tragic romance all over my battlefield!"
"Now's not really the time, Sarai!!" Lylon barked back, his voice cracking under the weight of panic.
She didn't look back. "Just get that thing working. This information must reach the capital… Something's coming to Pison. Something massive."
Lylon gritted his teeth and nodded.
He turned back toward the devices—stones glowing, dials twitching, ethereal glyphs fading in and out of sight—and began frantically tweaking them again.
"I'll assist you," Drac murmured, crawling to Lylon's side with shaking hands.
His face was pale, but his eyes were focused. "Try shifting the main shard counterclockwise. That'll buy us some arcflow…"
The ground growled behind them.
The mist was upon them.
A towering wave of black-violet fog, smoldering at the edges with violet fire, surged toward Sarai like an ancient curse unleashed.
As it neared, the very air cracked—not like thunder, but like glass being slowly shattered.
Sarai threw her arms forward, and with a cry, summoned a towering wall of blue light—honeycombed, humming, a half-formed miracle scraped together from sheer will and ancient technique.
SLAM!
The mist collided with the wall like a god's fist, the impact shaking the bones of the world.
"Hnngh!!" Sarai's knees buckled, and blood leaked from her nose. Her eyes glowed faintly from the strain.
But—she held it.
Even if just barely.
"Lylon," Drac whispered, holding his shoulder, "if we reduce the size of the space tear… it might only be enough juice for one to pass through. It won't hold up for more."
Lylon jerked his head toward him. "What?! You're saying you want to go?!"
"Idiot!" Drac smacked him with what little strength he had. "I'm saying send your wife! Sarai's giving you seconds… let her use them! Let her carry the message. Let her live."
Lylon stared at him in shock.
Drac, the one who always hoarded rations, ducked out of cleanup, and skipped debriefings… now offering himself like this?
Lylon's eyes welled up. He gave a shaky nod—but then—
"NO!" Kiara's low-tone voice pierced the moment.
All eyes turned to her.
She was trembling.
Her small voice rang with sadness and dejection. "Every time… I'm the one dragging us down. Always needing protection. Always the weakest…" her voice cracked. "But not this time. Let Lylon go. Let him carry the message. I won't be dead weight anymore."
Lylon and Drac locked eyes.
"Are… you sure?" Lylon asked, voice trembling beneath his breath.
"Hey!!" Drac suddenly grabbed him by the collar. "What do you think you're doing?!"
"Are you seeing what Sarai's fighting?!" Lylon snapped back, voice cracking with something between shame and desperation. "I love my wife… but I have goals too!!"
Tears slid from his eyes, not fast, but steadily—like confessions he never got to speak.
Drac clicked his tongue. "Well then," he muttered, "Ancient rites it is. Rock, Paper, Scissors."
"Fine."
They played.
Lylon won.
Nevertheless, he didn't celebrate.
He didn't speak.
He simply turned, gritted his teeth, and knelt by the space-time artifact—a half-broken item humming with restrained power, wires like veins, glowing runes twitching in and out of phase.
Drac stayed with him, lending quick fingers and muttered advice. Kiara clasped her hands in tight prayer, whispering to gods who weren't going to listening.
And then—
"Done!" Lylon cried. "I just need ten seconds to stabilize the tear. That's all we'll get—ten seconds before the device collapses for good."
He glanced at his wife and Drac.
He stole a glance at Sarai.
She was burning.
incinerating.
Her skin had cracked like dried scorched earth, her muscles exposed and seething.
Fire licked up her legs and arms, her eyes melted like wax, running down her cheeks like thick bloody tears.
Her hands—reduced to exposed bone—still held the shimmering wall upright, even as her body failed her.
She did not scream. She did not falter. She held.
She was an Arch-demon after all.
If the message could reach the Demon Kingdom, perhaps her brother could be saved from this apocalypse. Perhaps it wasn't too late.
Lylon clenched his jaw.
"You two," he ordered, not looking up. "Join Sarai. Reinforce the barrier. I don't know how long she can hold—and if she breaks before the portal opens, it's over. This storm will consume us, and our mission dies here."
"Who died and made you boss?!" Drac snapped, already rising to his feet. "I'll do what needs to be done… you whimpering fool."
"I-I'll try my best, Lylon!" Kiara stammered. Her voice was small—but steady.
Together, Kiara and Drac began to chant, voices weaving into a rough harmony. Sigils swirled around them—ancient, jagged.
They began moving toward Sarai.
Even just approaching the mist was agony.
The heat warped their clothing, twisting fabrics into molten curls. Their boots hissed against the ground, which shimmered like volcanic crystal, steaming and unstable.
The closer they came to Sarai, the more the air screamed.
The device buzzed and sparked. A small four-foot hole hovered in the air above it—unstable, but holding.
"I... I love you, Lylon!" Kiara shouted through the heat. "Please... find another wife and be happy. Be alive for me, okay?!"
"Hmph." Lylon stood and brushed off his hands. "I'll do as I like, you dumb woman. I'm the lucky one here—lucky to have people like you risking everything for me."
Despite the harsh words, Kiara smiled. Giggled even. Then she turned away and ran to the barrier.
She wasn't strong like Sarai.
She didn't have Drac's depth, knowledge, or titles. But she had heart.
If she poured out everything—every drop of her magic without holding back—maybe she could help hold the barrier just a few seconds longer.
But as she reached them, she paused and turned.
Sarai was dead, still standing somehow. Her body burned to sculptured ash.
Her magic had held longer than her life.
Drac was barely there, holding up what was left of the crumbling wall. His mouth was open in a silent scream, blood and saliva dripping from his jaw.
Kiara took one shaky step forward—
—but was yanked back.
A kiss landed on her lips. Soft. Final.
Before she could react, she was airborne, flying backward through the portal.
It had happened too fast.
In the blur, she saw him—Lylon—grinning satisfyingly, sprinting straight toward the collapsing barrier.
Sarai's body collapsed and was torn apart by the force.
Drac was crushed into a red smear.
And Lylon charged forward, summoning something dark and old. Crimson energy burst out of his chest. Four horns grew from his skull like blades breaking through skin.
The barrier re-formed—red now instead of blue, pulsing violently as it repelled the mist.
"GO!!" he roared in a now deeper voice. "Warn the others—A new Supreme Lord has arrived!!"
Then the portal snapped shut behind her.
Kiara landed hard on a dry plain.
No trees. No life. But far, far off in the distance… she could see it.
The sky breaking. The clouds curling like a scared snail. The destruction unraveling everyone she once knew over there.
"...Ly…lon…?"
Kiara whispered as she dropped to her knees, her tears forming a pool beneath her.
"Lylon!!!"
Her screams echoed in the wide plains, with dread, pain, loss… and loneliness.
But then she stopped, only sniffing as she brought herself up.
She turned to the other direction.
Still whispering her husband's name as she moved, she began to run. Faster and faster.
From her point of view, she could see the famed "Fortress city" ahead.
In the quiet dried land, only her gasps for air, her apologetic whispers to her dead companions, and sniffling could be heard.
*
Back in the chambers of the Demon King, after the orb finished displaying the memories, it shut off and hit the ground. But not as much as the realization hit the mind of the wide-eyed Tega.
"Demon King…" Tega whispered. "What did I just witness?"
"A new appearance…" Zack said, picking up the orb.
He turned to Tega. "A new Supreme Lord has arrived… and he's here in Pison."