Somewhere in the demon realm.
The air in the chamber was thick—so thick that even sound seemed to crawl instead of echo.
It was a place that devoured light.
A long, round obsidian table stretched across the center of the room, reflecting faint glimmers from the only visible features of the beings that sat around it—eyes.
Dozens of them, red, violet, gold, and green, all gleaming faintly in the suffocating dark.
The air itself seemed alive, pulsing faintly with demonic energy. The faint hum of ancient enchantments crawled across the walls like whispers from forgotten graves.
"...So," a low, rasping voice finally broke the silence. "We failed."
The words hung like poison in the air.
Another voice followed—deep, guttural, and resentful. "Failed, yes. Because someone decided to lose every Seed we collected from the human realm."
A snarl cut through the room. "Watch your tone, Kharzel. You think I planned to have them stolen?"
"Then you failed to guard them."
