Once, beyond the reach of all human memory, more than two billion years ago, when the Earth itself could be called Hell without exaggeration, the world did not belong to humankind.In those primeval ages, other sovereigns of existence roamed its surface: demons, spirits, ancient predators, and gods whose names have long since dissolved into the void of time. Their civilizations were vast, their power seemed eternal, and the planet itself served merely as an arena for their unending struggle.
But nothing is eternal.Cataclysms, whose true nature still escapes all understanding, descended upon the world. The fall of a great meteor, distortions in the very fabric of being, the collapse of conditions that allowed such entities to exist — all of this became a sentence. One by one, the ancient races vanished, erased as though they had never been. Only after their fall did the Earth gain the chance to begin its own slow and merciless evolution.
The earliest ages belonged to the most primitive forms of life. Insects, bacteria, viruses — pitiful, nearly invisible, yet astonishingly resilient. Millions of years of evolution reshaped them, refined them, shattered and rebuilt them again, until they learned to exist confidently within the macroscopic world. From these countless transformations emerged creatures that later ages would call predators: tigers, lions, and other beasts that carried within them echoes of primordial cruelty.
The planet flourished.Life clung to every crevice, every fragment of land. Animals adapted ever more deeply to Earth, and among them arose those who followed a different path. Macaques and primates began to evolve not merely toward strength and fangs, but toward tactics, memory, and reason. Their evolution was slow, yet inevitable. In time, the first Homo sapiens appeared — beings capable of recognizing their desires and actions, yet still bound by ancient instincts, as if chained into their very flesh.
Millennia passed. Some species vanished, others thrived. Humans learned to understand both themselves and the world around them. They ceased to see nature solely as a weapon or prey, and began to use it as a means of survival and creation. Agriculture and plant cultivation emerged, though hunting and meat never disappeared — carnivory remained part of human essence. Civilization grew, step by step, at the cost of blood, mistakes, and forgotten truths.
After millions of years, humanity reached a stage that later chronicles would place in the twelfth century. The birth of Jesus Christ, the formation of religions and cults, sacred scriptures — all of this lay far in the past, yet continued to shape the lives of most of the world. The development of communication, ethnic groups, and nations strengthened societies. Each people possessed its own traditions, language, and faith, binding them together while simultaneously dividing them.
Yet with this progress came new horrors.Wars replaced the hunt. Murder became commonplace. States increasingly stood idle, allowing decay to spread from within. Corruption flourished openly, as though shame itself had died. Racism, nationalism, and other forms of rejection turned people into executioners long before they ever took up weapons.
The year 1157. The Empire of Zarishima.
War came not like a storm, but like poison. Once among the greatest powers, feared by neighboring states, the empire was doomed. The strike was delivered from within. The Empress's guard was bought, betrayed for gold and promises. The ruler herself was captured. Blood and screams flooded the city. Civilians were slaughtered, tortured, raped, and enslaved. Streets once filled with life became graveyards in the span of two days.
The conquest lasted only forty-eight hours.That was enough for the Empire of Zarishima to vanish from the face of the Earth, as though it had never existed.
Empress Lilith de Zarishima managed to escape captivity and hide within her chambers. Everything she ruled was destroyed. She stood alone — without an army, without hope, without a future. Outside the door echoed blows and shouts as enemy soldiers tried to break in, intent on capturing her and likely subjecting her to torture or execution.
In desperation, Lilith scanned the room, as though the walls themselves, soaked with her former authority, might offer salvation. Then, as if guided by fate itself, a book fell from a shelf. Ancient, covered in dust and the cracks of time. Its cover bore demonic symbols, runes, and signs that chilled the blood at a single glance. The title shimmered, glowing with every shade of dried blood:
"Okulon: Invocations."
Lilith knew what it meant.Demons. Forbidden rituals. A price that could not be avoided. To summon a demon was to trade one's soul for a wish.
She closed her eyes. Her thoughts raced, but there was no choice. The door groaned, wood splintered, metal screeched, and every strike brought her closer to the end. The decision was made.
She lunged for the book, flung it open with trembling hands, and began flipping through pages filled with alien knowledge. The pounding outside intensified. One more moment, and the barrier would fall.
And with it, the last boundary between the world of humans and that which should never have been summoned again.
Lilith stopped on a page at random, without looking, as though the book itself guided her fingers. Without hesitation, she drew a knife. The blade split the skin of her palm, and thick, dark blood dripped into the center of the ritual circle etched upon the floor. The crimson drops soaked into the symbols as though they had awaited her flesh.
She began to read.
The words were ancient, stripped of familiar meaning. They tore at the ear, twisted the tongue, as if they were never meant for a human mouth. With each uttered sign, the room began to tremble. Stone walls cracked, the air thickened and burned, as though reality itself were boiling. Whispers filled the space — not one voice, but hundreds, thousands, speaking at once, from within and beyond her mind.
It was unbearable.
When the door finally split apart, the diagram within the book ignited with a crimson glow. In that instant, the soldiers who burst inside beheld something never meant for human eyes.
At the center of the room stood a being.
It possessed a humanoid shape, but only in outline. Its aristocratic features were too perfect, disturbingly calm. Dark hair fell upon its shoulders, streaked with crimson, like traces of long-dried blood. The sclera of its eyes were black as pitch, within which burned amber pupils surrounded by a blood-red iris resembling an open wound.
The being slowly turned its gaze toward the soldiers.
That was enough.
They collapsed without a sound. Their bodies fell like empty shells. Their souls did not depart — they perished. This was not fear of death. Not despair. Not darkness or the unknown. They were destroyed by the realization that before them stood something primordial, older than the very idea of life, carrying within it the foundation of the impossible — and therefore the absolute.
The being calmly adjusted the sleeve at its wrist, as though mildly irritated by a trivial imperfection. Its attire resembled that of a nineteenth-century butler or aristocrat — alien to this era, just as it was.
Lilith trembled behind it.This was not the demon of grimoires. Not a reflection of human fears. Not a perverted symbol of sin. It was something else.
She glanced at the book.
Her eyes widened. A scream tore from her — filled with terror, guilt, and the understanding of the irreversible.
"Primordial Demon: Sazir."
A name cursed even among demons.
Sazir — whose appearance once erased an entire continent from existence. Legends varied, but verified chronicles agreed on one thing: he had been summoned by a sorcerer whose name history itself had burned away. Sazir fulfilled the command, then returned for payment. The man fled, denying the demon what he desired.
Sazir's wrath was not an outburst.It was law.
He drew the sword Vold and cleaved space-time itself. The resulting breach began to devour the world like a spreading ulcer. From it poured countless demonic hordes, consuming all life from shore to shore. When the continent lay dead, the demons vanished as quietly as warm air brushing against skin.
Lilith knew these tales.She loved books. History. Legends.
And yet Sazir stood before her.
He turned slowly. His gaze passed over her — not with hunger, not with cruelty, but with a terrifying curiosity. His eyes were both demonic and strangely… alluring.
"This is only the beginning," his voice echoed.
Not aloud.Within.
Then he spread wings woven of darkness and flame and vanished in a burst of demonic fire.
Lilith could not move. Fear bound her body so tightly that a warm pool formed beneath her feet. There was nothing shameful or absurd in it — this was pure, animal terror.
Some time later, agonized screams echoed beyond the windows. She knew their source.
Approaching the window, Lilith saw the dark figure of Sazir hovering above the ruins of the empire.
And she understood that her world had ended.
Sazir levitated above the devastation as though the very concept of action did not apply to him. Slowly, he opened his palm and aimed it toward the enemy empire — the one that had consumed Zarishima. Photons gathered within his hand, not as light, but as raw material for annihilation. They compressed, condensed, until they formed a tiny sphere devoid of heat and color.
An instant — and the sphere was released.
There was no explosion in the familiar sense. No sound. The empire vanished. The space it once occupied flared with light brighter than the sun by millions of times, burying everything nearby. The contours of matter were erased, as though they had never been drawn.
When the torrents of light faded, only darkness remained.
Lilith stared toward the enemy lands and saw nothing. No cities. No ruins. No horizon. Worse still was the realization that not only the enemy empire had vanished — neighboring continents were gone as well. Nearly the entire surface of the Earth had been destroyed, as though existence itself had been torn away.
In the sky, Sazir smiled.
From a distance measured in hundreds of kilometers, he looked Lilith directly in the eyes.
"Now you — and your soul — belong to me."
The words were nearly soundless.
Yet everyone heard them. Every living being on the planet. Even those who would never again comprehend what they had heard.
Lilith shuddered. There was nowhere to flee. He was not merely a demon — he was embodied fear. Wherever she might hide, he would know. Not because he searched, but because fear itself was law. And Sazir was its bearer. His presence imposed terror upon any soul, no matter how free it believed itself to be.
She exhaled. Slowly. Raised her hands.
Blinking, she found him beside her.
He wrapped his arms around her waist as naturally as if he had always been there. Lilith did not understand how he had moved so close. No motion. No time. He simply was.
"What will you say before I claim you forever?" he whispered into her ear.
Goosebumps spread across her skin.
"Nothing…" she replied softly. "I only hope it won't be too painful."
She closed her eyes.
His lips touched hers, and she gasped. This was not a human kiss. There was no warmth — only power. Primordial, crushing, alien. She felt her strength draining away, slipping like sand through her fingers. Resistance was impossible. Not because she did not wish to resist — but because her will no longer belonged to her.
Her soul slowly left her body, consumed by Sazir. Not in a violent pull. Not in pain. But in inevitability.
When he withdrew, Lilith collapsed to the floor.
Her body remained alive. Breathing. Existing. But without a soul, it was nothing more than an empty, beautiful shell devoid of meaning.
Sazir smiled — barely — and vanished.
The world froze. Evolution stopped. The remaining flames and the scorched sky emphasized only one truth:
Sazir had been here.
Thus ended the tale of the Empress who summoned the embodiment of terror into the world of men.
And it was not the end.