CHAPTER 2: WHAT SLEEPS BENEATH
They didn't attack.
That was the first surprise. Four trained adventurers, dropped into what they thought was a demon lord's prison, facing a creature of obvious power—and they listened.
Kaia had sheathed her second katana. Elara's sword pointed at the floor. Liana was still reading seals, muttering to herself in what sounded like ancient proto-magic. Raine had retrieved her bow but hadn't nocked another arrow.
I studied them as they studied me. Scry perk working overtime—every glance at their equipment told me stories. Elara's sword had been her mother's. Kaia's katanas were forged by a master she'd killed in a duel. Liana's spellbook was a gift from someone named Alaric—
I stopped.
Alaric.
The name triggered something. A warning pulse from the Purgatory. I looked closer at Liana's memories, and what I saw made the runes on my skin flare dark.
Alaric the Sage. Mentor. Teacher. And the architect of this little expedition.
The one who sent them to die.
"Your mission," I said, and my voice was quieter now—less stone-song, more human. I was learning to control it. "What did they tell you?"
Elara straightened. "A demon lord. Ancient power stirring. The seals weakening. We were sent to—"
"Slay it." I finished. "Standard hero narrative. Girl meets monster, girl kills monster, girl saves world."
"Something wrong with that?" Kaia's voice was flat, but her eyes were sharp.
"Everything." I gestured at the walls. "Look at these seals. Really look. Are they failing?"
Silence. They looked.
Liana answered first, her voice small. "They're... perfect. Not a crack. Not a weakness. They're stronger than any ward I've ever seen."
"Because I'm awake," I said. "I'm the power source. The longer I exist, the stronger the prison becomes. Your 'demon lord' hasn't stirred in ten thousand years. It's not going to stir."
Raine found her voice. "Then why did the guild—"
"Because they're not trying to kill a demon."
I let the words hang. Then I raised my hand—just a gesture—and the seals on the far wall shifted. Became a window. Showed them what I'd seen through Liana's memories.
Alaric. Standing in a circle of black stone. Other figures in robes. A ritual taking shape. And at the center, four crystals—each one pulsing in time with the hearts of the women before me.
"They didn't send you to kill anything," I said softly. "They sent you to die. Your deaths—your souls—are the key to breaking the outer seals. You're not heroes. You're sacrifices."
Raine went white.
Elara's sword came up—but not at me. At the image of Alaric. "You're lying."
"Am I?"
I let them see more. The memories I'd pulled from their own minds, woven together into truth. Alaric's smirk as he handed them the crystals. The way he'd insisted they wear them at all times. The ritual circle I'd glimpsed in his private chambers.
Liana sank to her knees. "No. No, he taught me. He raised me. He wouldn't—"
"He would."
Kaia hadn't moved. But her voice, when it came, was ice. "The crystals. They're anchors."
I nodded. "For the ritual. When you die here—when your souls are here, in this place between worlds—they'll use that connection to tear open the outer gates. Not to free what's inside. To get to it. Whatever's in here..." I looked down at the floor, at the deeper darkness that even I avoided. "They want it."
More silence.
Then Elara did something unexpected. She sheathed her sword. Completely. Then she knelt.
"I am Elara Dawnhammer, paladin of the Silver Circle." Her voice was steady. "I have been deceived. My order has been deceived. If what you say is true—"
"It's true."
"Then I have no mission. No purpose. No..." She looked up at me, and her eyes were fierce. "But I have a sword. And I have a choice. Help us stop them, and I will owe you a debt I can never repay."
I stared at her.
This was a paladin? This was the rigid, rule-bound order I'd read about in fantasy novels? She should be attacking me. Should be calling me a demon. Should be—
She's desperate, I realized. They all are. And desperate people cling to anything that offers truth.
"Rise," I said. "I don't accept oaths from people who haven't eaten in—" I checked. Twelve hours. "—too long. We'll talk. We'll plan. But first..."
I looked at the four of them. Dirty. Frightened. Hopeful despite everything.
"First, you rest. Purgatory isn't going anywhere. Neither am I."
Raine blinked. "You... you're letting us stay?"
"You're not my enemies." I paused. "And I haven't spoken to anyone in a thousand years. I'm... honestly, I'm not sure I remember how to be alone anymore."
Something shifted in their expressions. Not quite trust. Not yet. But something. A crack in the wall.
Liana sniffled, then laughed shakily. "You're... you're not what I expected."
"What did you expect?"
"A demon." She wiped her eyes. "Fire and rage and... not... not lonely."
I didn't answer.
But the runes on my skin pulsed once, softly. And I think—I think—they understood.
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