Suddenly, he found himself back on the red planet under the glow of the three moons. The devil appeared before him once more. But this time, he didn't seem lurking or seductive, but triumphant. He proclaimed that Elandor was truly of the caliber of a champion of darkness.
Overjoyed, as if celebrating a grand feast, the devil exclaimed, "You shall be it! You shall be my champion! My champion of darkness!" A devilish laugh echoed across the desolate landscape, making the air vibrate.
The devil reached into his own chest and extracted a portion of his dark essence. With an almost tender gesture, he implanted it into the body of Elandor, whom he now called his son. His voice boomed like thunder: "The birth shall now be completed. Arise, my son... Arise, my champion... And rule the world for me! Complete my work!" Shadows shot from the ground, binding Elandor and enveloping him completely. Under their touch, his body contorted, and he finally assumed his Noctusborn form. He rose in his new, monstrous shape. He opened his mouth and roared—louder than he had ever roared in his entire life. But it was not a roar of triumph. It was a scream of unending pain, suffering, and utter hopelessness.
A burning symbol blazed on his arm—the mark of the Devil. It branded him as his property forever. The shadows thickened, slowly dragging his massive body down into the dark earth. He was already powerless, his will broken. He no longer fought the darkness. His entire body sank into the gloom. The pact was sealed.