*Content Warning: This chapter contains mature themes, violence, blood, and morally dark actions. Reader discretion advised.*
***
The air in the Heavenly Demon's private chambers hung thick with the scent of smoldering incense, curling like spectral fingers toward the vaulted ceiling. Shadows danced across polished obsidian floors as the Heavenly Demon rose from his throne-like chair, his silk robes whispering against the stone with each deliberate step. His piercing gaze fixed on the heavy door ahead, fingers brushing the jade-inlaid handle before twisting it open with a soft, ominous click. Outside stood the assigned guard—a burly figure clad in midnight-black armor etched with demonic runes—his posture rigid, eyes snapping to attention at the sudden intrusion of his lord's presence.
The Heavenly Demon's lips curved into a faint, predatory smile, the kind that promised both elevation and ruin, as he locked eyes with the guard. His voice emerged smooth yet laced with unyielding command, carrying the weight of mountains.
"Hey, you. Listen carefully. I have an announcement to make. From this moment forward, I have finally founded my personal guard."
The guard's world shattered in that instant. His eyes bulged wide, whites flashing against sweat-slicked skin, mouth gaping silently as thoughts fragmented into chaos—Personal guard? The Heavenly Demon's elite? Me? No, impossible...His armored knees buckled instinctively, forehead crashing to the ground in a deep bow that scraped stone, voice trembling like a leaf in a storm.
"Y-Yes, understood, my lord!"
The Heavenly Demon's smile deepened, a glint of amusement flickering in his abyss-dark eyes as he tilted his head ever so slightly, robes settling around him like pooling blood.
"Well then, summon every guard, all my sons, and my wives as well. Bring them to the main hall. I will announce it there."
The guard's body convulsed with tremors now, mind reeling as fragmented thoughts collided—Who could it be? Someone strong enough to warrant this? The lord himself making the proclamation... unprecedented! His lips moved of their own accord, a barely audible mumble escaping as sweat dripped from his brow onto the floor.
"My lord is going to announce it himself... Oh damn, this has never happened before. Just how strong is he to make my lord act this way? And now that I think about it... it feels as if he has changed a little."
He snapped his head lower, bowing deeper still, voice hoarse with fervor.
"I understand, my lord! I shall inform everyone immediately!"
***
The guard scrambled to his feet, boots pounding the corridor as he sprinted toward the family wings, heart hammering like war drums. First, he burst into the grand pavilion where the eldest sons trained—Damien and Julian, sons of Isolde Draven, sparring under the watchful eyes of retainers. Damien, broad-shouldered at 23 with a scar-riddled jaw, paused mid-swing, sweat flying from his blade. Julian, younger at 13 but already wiry and sharp-eyed, froze beside him.
The guard's chest heaved as he dropped to one knee, words tumbling out in a rush.
"The Heavenly Demon summons all guards, sons, and wives to the main hall! He has... he has founded his personal guard. The announcement comes from his own lips!"
Damien's sword clattered to the floor, his face draining of color, fists clenching until knuckles whitened—Personal guard? Father's elite? Who dares stand at his right hand? Evelyn, 22 and poised like a coiled serpent nearby with her twin brother Lucien (also 22, lean and calculating), whipped around, her emerald eyes widening in shock. Lucien gripped his spear tighter, veins bulging along his forearms.
"What?!" Evelyn hissed, voice sharp as shattered glass. "Father's personal guard? This changes everything—who is it?"
Lucien snarled through gritted teeth, shadows playing across his angular face.
"Impossible. No one alive deserves that honor. Who is the world is it?"
The guard nodded frantically before bolting onward, reaching Vivian Draven's solar where Victor (20, hulking and bull-necked) polished his massive axe. Vivian, elegant with silver-streaked hair, looked up from her embroidery, needle pausing mid-air. Victor's eyes narrowed to slits, muscles rippling as he rose.
"Personal guard?!" Victor bellowed, axe haft creaking in his grip. "Father's shadow? Ha! It must be a monster."
Vivian pressed a hand to her chest, breath catching.
"Victor, mind your tongue... but yes, unprecedented."
Next, Elara Draven's chambers—Cassian (19, lithe and fox-like) practicing formations with illusory flames. Elara's gentle features hardened, her fan snapping shut.
Cassian's flames guttered out, face paling as he straightened.
"Father's personal guard? My path to power... blocked?"
Seraphina Draven's garden bloomed with nightshade; Iris (17, ethereal with raven hair) plucked petals absentmindedly. Seraphina's eyes flashed with intrigue.
Iris whispered, petals crumbling in her fist.
"A new player... interesting."
Finally, the shadowed wing housing Lilith Draven, Rowan (15, brooding), and Sable (14, silent and watchful). Lilith's crimson lips parted in a slow, venomous smile, fingers tracing Rowan's jaw possessively.
Rowan's eyes burned with envy.
"Who steals Father's favor now?"
Sable merely tilted her head, shadows coiling at her feet like pets.
The guard saved Miranda Draven's forsaken quarters for last—the dim, dust-choked room reeking of wilted herbs and despair. Miranda huddled in the corner, once-vibrant eyes hollowed by endless grief, rocking slightly as phantom cries echoed in her fractured mind—Violet... my little light, gone too soon, murdered in the shadows... why her? Her frail hands clutched a ragged doll, tears carving fresh tracks down sallow cheeks. Violet, the ostracized commoner daughter at just 10, haunted every breath.
The guard hesitated at the threshold, voice softening despite urgency.
"Lady Miranda... the Heavenly Demon summons all to the main hall. He announces his personal guard."
Miranda's head snapped up, shattered gaze flickering with manic intensity, lips trembling as she clutched the doll tighter, nails drawing blood.
"Violet... would she have knelt? My baby... taken... and now this? A guard? While I rot?"
The guard bowed hastily and fled, leaving her whispers chasing him like ghosts.
Word spread like wildfire; the main hall filled with murmurs as family and guards assembled. Crystal chandeliers flickered overhead, casting elongated shadows across marble floors veined with gold. Sons clustered in tense knots—Damien barking orders to lesser guards, Evelyn whispering schemes to Lucien, Victor cracking knuckles with booming laughs masking unease. Cassian paced, illusions flickering nervously; Iris toyed with a dagger; Rowan and Sable lurked in corners, eyes like voids. Wives exchanged loaded glances—Isolde's regal poise cracking with curiosity, Selene's fingers drumming impatiently, Vivian polishing a hidden blade, Elara fanning herself rapidly, Seraphina smirking enigmatically, Lilith radiating predatory calm. Miranda slunk in last, doll hidden in her robes, eyes darting wildly.
"Personal guard?" Damien growled to Julian, voice low thunder. "Father's never done this. Must be a freak."
Evelyn leaned in, breath hot. "Whoever it is, they'll eclipse us all. We have to end them first."
Victor laughed coarsely. "Let 'em come. I'll test their spine myself."
Cassian muttered, flames dancing in his palms. "Changed the hierarchy overnight..."
***
Guards shuffled, whispering of the mysterious "he" who prompted this—rumors of unnatural strength, eyes like bottomless abysses.
Then, the air thickened. A pressure descended like the weight of collapsing stars, suffusing the hall with invisible chains that crushed wills and buckled knees. The massive doors groaned open, admitting the Heavenly Demon—robes billowing without wind, aura a palpable storm of crimson killing intent that warped the light itself.
Every soul dropped instantly. Sons slammed foreheads to stone, wives prostrated gracefully, guards quivered face-down. Isolde bit back a gasp, Selene's nails scraped marble, Lilith's smile faltered into awe. Miranda whimpered, curling fetal.
But one figure remained upright amid the sea of submission. Void stood at the forefront, spine straight as forged steel, lips curved in a serene, knowing smile that pierced the oppressive aura like sunlight through fog. His long beautiful blue hair gleamed under the chandeliers, heterochromatic eyes— one void-black, the other flickering with abyssal stars—swept the hall calmly, unblinking.
Gasps rippled through the prone masses. Damien's mind reeled—Insane! Father's pressure crushes Transcendents... how can he even stand it? Evelyn's thoughts fractured—That smile... It's like he is mocking us all. What is he? Lucien snarled inwardly—Defiance? Or immunity? Victor's bravado cracked—Monster... He is a pure monster. Cassian's illusions shattered outright. Iris's dagger slipped from numb fingers. Rowan clenched fists until blood welled; Sable's shadows recoiled. Lilith's hunger twisted into obsession—My prize... unbreakable. Miranda stared transfixed, grief momentarily she then thought what is it why am I having this strange feeling when I am looking at him... Who the,hell is he.
The Heavenly Demon halted before Void, the pressure peaking then... vanishing, as if acknowledging an equal. His eyes gleamed with rare approval.
The hall held its breath. The unbowed Void had arrived.
***