The hall was carved into the underside of a drifting asteroid, cold and illuminated by the flickering violet light of dying stars. Five figures sat around a table made of ossified bone. The atmosphere was thick with the scent of ozone and stale blood. They were the candidates, the apex predators of the abyss, each vying for the title of Demon King.
Valerius tapped a clawed finger against the bone surface. He was a creature of sharp angles, his skin the color of dried ash. Across from him, Malphas leaned back, his massive frame shifting and causing the floor to shudder.
"We are wasting time," Valerius said. His voice sounded like grinding stones. "The Earth is ripe. The Tower focuses on the climbers, and the local defenses are pathetic. We should have descended months ago."
