Kairo awoke to the sound of crackling flame and the distant, grinding howl of something ancient. His vision swam — jagged black rocks and an endless, burning horizon. His body felt like lead, every muscle torn, his ribs screaming with every breath.
A shadow loomed over him. One eye gleamed like molten gold, the other socket covered by a jagged iron plate. The figure knelt, his clawed hands working with strange precision.
"Don't move," the one-eyed demi-demon said, voice like gravel dragged over stone. He pulled a strip of something dark and leathery from a pouch at his side. It wasn't cloth. It was flesh — demon-hide, cured in fire, still warm and faintly twitching.
"What… are you doing?" Kairo rasped.
"Keeping you from bleeding out all over my floor," Igron muttered, wrapping the strip tight around Kairo's side. The bandage burned against his skin, and a faint hiss rose as it fused into place. The pain shot through him like lightning.
Kairo clenched his jaw. "That's… not a bandage."
Igron smirked. "Nothing in Hell is what you think it is." He tied the last knot, the flesh seeming to cling to itself unnaturally. "These are Ashweave bindings. Taken from the skin of a firebeast. They'll keep your body together. Don't ask if they're clean — you don't want to know."
Kairo stayed silent, his gaze fixed on the flickering fire nearby. The heat was suffocating, but the cold in his chest was worse.
Igron sat back on his haunches, studying him with that single, piercing eye. "You're not like the others."
"Others?"
"The souls thrown down here," Igron said. "Sinners. Butchers. Tyrants. Most crawl, beg, or scream until they're torn apart. You… fought. You kept standing, even when the hounds had you surrounded. That's not human will. Not anymore."
Kairo's fingers twitched at the mention. His voice was low. "Who are you?"
"Igron," the demi-demon said simply. "Guide, scavenger, killer when the need arises. And you—" He leaned closer, nostrils flaring. "—you reek of Heaven's light, and yet you've been thrown into the Pit. That doesn't happen by accident."
Kairo looked away, jaw tightening. His memories swirled — flashes of burning skies, soldiers slaughtering the demigods, the endless fall.
"I don't remember how I got here."
"Then you'd better remember fast," Igron said, standing. "Because Hell doesn't forgive the lost. And if Hades knows you're here…" His grin was cruel. "You won't stay lost for long."
Kairo sat in the oppressive silence, the demon-hide burning against his wounds, his mind sinking into the firelit dark.