Vincent/Vaelthor/Star
The vortex spat us out like unwanted refuse, and the world reformed around Nicholas and me in a haze of sulfurous smoke and echoing snarls. My head throbbed from the chaotic pull of the portal, but I forced myself to focus, shadows instinctively curling around my fists like protective gloves. We were in the heart of the demon realm's throne room—a cavernous hall carved from obsidian veins that pulsed with unholy light, the air thick with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid burn of brimstone. Torches flickered in sconces shaped like screaming skulls, casting jagged shadows that danced across the walls like mocking specters. High above, the ceiling arched into infinity, dotted with glowing red crystals that mimicked a hellish starry sky.
