Far away from Outpost 7, was a place where the world burned.
The sky was red. There was no sun. Only a restless glow that seemed to seep from the sky itself, as if the heavens were made of slow flowing magma.
The air was hot enough to sting the lungs.
On a jagged plain of black rock, a crowd of creatures moved.
They did not resemble any animal. Their skin ranged from charred black to sickly violet and dull crimson. Some walked on two legs, some on four, some slithered, some crawled. A few had wings that twitched and flexed in the dry heat.
To the eyes of an ordinary human, there was only one word for them.
Demons.
They hunted. They fought. They traded roars and shrieks in a language of growls and guttural sounds. Smaller ones scattered when larger forms passed. Predators watched other predators, waiting for the slightest sign of weakness.
This was daily life here.
Near the base of a broken mountain, a dark maw opened in the rock. A cave.
Inside, the heat grew worse.
