[???]

I sat upon my perch and watched the never ending sunset that cast blood-red hues over the land. My stony body melded in with the face of the cliff I rested upon. Bathed in the endless twilight was a scene that I had seen many times since I called this spot home.

Beneath me was war; a violent campaign that would never reach its conclusion. Some time ago, a new faction had entered and things changed to the point where I wondered if someone had succeeded where so many had failed before them. But, like all things, those changes proved to be ephemeral. Whoever had pulled the reins to change the composition of this war had departed and it had once again fallen into a stalemate. The only difference was that the scale had changed entirely.

The scale of the death had risen like a flood.

I once fantasized about being the one that made the decisive difference in that perpetual battle. I had delusions that my being would become so great that it would eclipse this squabble and all others. They would turn to me and raise me as an undisputed king and I would rule from the city in the clouds.

That all changed when I walked into the Dungeon beside me.

It was a simple entrance, its humble exterior belied the depth of the agony that could be held within. There was no monster to be slain, no trial that needed to be overcome. It was just a vision.

I saw people from my past life, people who knew who I was: troubled, but not worthy of whatever this was. I tried to rage against the visions, ripping it apart like a shabby tapestry until the magic relented and let me free.

Like a trained dog, it would not let me go. It would only show me more visions; different visions. I bore witness to the innumerable branches that sprung from my trunk of like; choices that were seen to fruition, more ideal lives to the one that I had found. Continuous slaps to the face over each error that I had made. They compounded and compounded until I had no choice to believe that my crime was throwing away such a beautiful life.

All I could do was sit and ruminate over each failure I had made until the visions showed me something incomprehensible. It was a civilization that I had never seen before. The streets of my hometown had been widened to allow for giant mechanical beasts that carried people inside. They wore garments in colors only afforded by the wealthiest kings and presided in homes that would be the envy of Gods.

The only thing I didn't find was my family.

Somewhere along the way, they disappeared into the sands of time. My clan, my children, my legacy; wiped out from existence without any way for me to know why.

I begged and pleaded for the visions to show me someone, anyone that was my relation in this future. It did not answer. It only showed me the door out.

I departed in despair, wondering what my true purpose was. What was it that I had been fighting for? What, in comparison to the end of my lineage, could I hope to accomplish by being the king that presided over all of Hell?

Just then, I saw the sunset; the beautiful, seemingly unending sunset. I sat down and observed it in its perpetual descent. I tried to divine the purpose of having it in that position in the sky; trying to determine any sort of meaning from it. While I did so, numerous amounts of demons entered the world and left just as defeated as I must have looked.

Every time someone left, I asked them what they had seen. I listened to their stories of people moving on without them, of new love for another springing from the dead hearts of their spouses, and of children who were slain in service of revenge.

I always told them the same thing; to look at the sunset. While some screamed at me about how it didn't matter, some listened to my suggestion and began to weep at the sheer sight of it. No matter what they gained from it, the conclusion was always the same: they had given up on the pursuit for the throne.

Until a peculiar black lizard arrived. His aura was much akin to the young hothead. He must have been a younger soul, an impressive specimen to reach so high in such a quick manner.

Just like all the others, he entered confidently and left troubled. Though, unlike the others, there appeared to be a sense of closure on his face. Whatever he had seen in there, he had made peace with.

When I asked him what he had seen, he told me to go fuck myself. I supposed I would never be able to reach an epiphany through the experiences of another and continued to watch the sunset in reverence.

A loud snapping sound filled my ears before my eyes could comprehend what I had seen. A large crack formed in the sky, bisecting the falling sun in two. The crack rapidly spread and branched like spider webs until the entire horizon was on the verge of breaking.

Then the sky fell.

The sky disappeared, leaving an enormous gray streak that covered the sky. Two beings fell from on high, grappling each other. Light magic clashed against dark magic. The universe rippled around them. They were far too powerful to be allowed in this realm and it was suffering as a result of it.

They collided with the ground and the fighting that occurred atop it with a thunderous boom and a flash of searing light.

I did not look down at the ground. I did not care about the aftermath or the winner. My gaze was fixated on the unfamiliar sky. I had stared in the same direction for decades and now, in a flash, it was all taken away. I wondered if the winner of that fight, once they grab the scepter of the Arch Demon, would ever restore that sky to what it was or, if like all things, it was not meant to last. Would it even be the exact same as it was or simply recreated from memory? Would anyone tell the difference?

I already forgotten what it looked like.

[Vendetta]

Glory, glory. What a blessed day. Glory, glory. I had seen something that no living person had ever seen.

My days of late had been spent delivering beautiful punishment onto those that had managed to avoid it for far too long. The paths of many black-souled individuals all congregated in one spot; a perfect battlefield for me to render upon these wayward sheep proper retribution.

As was promised, it did not end. They rose to burn again. I rose to continue to burn. It did not matter how brutal my own deaths were. The horrors that mana could inflict upon my flesh. Burned, twisted, ripped, flayed; and all other forms of mutilation of my body was not only accepted, but welcome.

I was not an exception to my belief and I needed assistance from the hands that despised me so that I may know genuine hatred.

It still burned so bright within me, even with Armaros sealed away. I realized, with his disappearance, that my hatred bore a far larger silhouette than he could fill.

Ishmael gave me a single order before he left to destroy those that fought for supremacy: kill.

No targets, no limitations; only violence. There was no shortage of people whose souls were dipped in the blank ink of sin. Everywhere I looked there the people that needed to be reminded of suffering.

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There was only one issue with this divine occupation, nobody seemed to break down and repent. No matter the punishment, no matter the pain, they rose again to continue the good fight. There was still belief, not in themselves, but it their chosen champion. As long as they persisted, there was still hope of victory. Enough hope remained to numb the pain of infinite deaths if it meant a glorious paradise afterwards.

However, word from the top was silent. No news, orders, or messages came down from on high for quite some time. I knew that Ishmael would not bother to provide me information unless it was absolutely pertinent. The only way my objective would change is if I spotted Yoshitsune, but I had not seen her since she was a corpse all those days ago.

Though, the silence was beginning to bother the rest. Something had changed in the fight for the crown, but there was nothing in stone; no words to give peace of mind to any side.

Then, I heard a crashing sound that deafened the world. I did not yet know it, but the fighting had come to a permanent end.

Demons screamed and pointed at the sky. The blood red sun above us was gone. Only a gray smear remained. But, the star was only a painting, the ambient light of the realm continued to light up the battlefield.

That was not the sight that caused the commotion. Something else had the world in rapture. My soul burned with jubilation. I felt more alive, more grateful, than at any other point in my existence.

"Oh, what I glorious day to be alive and to breathe!" I screamed towards the sky above. "I have watched an angel fall from Heaven!"

[Capitaine]

"So, this is how it ends?" I asked myself.

Without new orders from the Eight-Mouthed Liar, I allowed myself to be nothing more than a spectator for this fever-pitched clash amongst the surviving armies of the Great Demons.

It was boring. Anyone who thought that someone would change in a world without death was deluding themselves. Sure, Ishmael had spirited away many demons, but Ishmael was not a proper shepherd for he did not cull the herd well enough. All he allowed was for the army that served under Charles to be evenly matched with the armies that have existed since the beginning of humanity.

But, with every worthwhile demon involved, there was nothing else to do except for watch this eternal grind. A few got sent to perpetual realms of death, but it would take years before something changed enough for a winner to be determined.

I could only sigh, this endless grind must have been the divine construction from the beginning. I would hope that the demons at the top acted much in the way of social classes. I anticipated refinement the further up the ladder I climbed only to find more insatiable, Machiavellian folk than before. It was almost as though we were regressing.

Ishmael, the king brute, had left some time ago. The sky rumbled every so often, but only someone like myself was keen enough to spot the minute changes occurring around the city floating in the sky.

I saw chunks of stone tumble down the side of the mountain like an avalanche. The only peculiar things about the rocks that settled at the bottom of the mountain was that I managed to see them tumble from the very top. And, if Ishmael was a good representation for how uncultured one must be to preside over Hell, I could only presume how brutish such a fight amongst the royal boors would ultimately be.

The answer wouldn't take long to arrive. The city was gradually growing smaller and smaller as each bit of rock fell from the sky. Then, it all happened at once.

I saw the sky break like a mirror. The mana that created the sky gave way and turned into dust as two figures fell from the sky. To mixed emotions, I realized that one of them was Ishmael. A bizarre pride for knowing him rose in my rest as frustration that he had gotten so far fought against it.

The world ripped apart as they fell down, their power too great to be contained by a place made for such lowly demons as we. I knew that I would be obliterated as soon as these forces reached me.

I couldn't force myself to care.

This world wasn't worth keeping together. Any rebuilt form would be an abomination, devoid of any culture or intrigue or fun. I would refuse to be made to live through such a broken, chimeric world.

It'd be better if there was no world at all.

"Finally, something new."

[Charles]

Everything was going according to plan.

I reviewed and re-reviewed the battle reports. I verified the numbers coming in from the captains. They all pointed to the same conclusion.

There were less combatants than the day before.

The shift in fighting wasn't tectonic, only a few dozen a day disappeared into prison realms and removed from the war altogether. I had all the time in the world; it did not matter if it took centuries to hit the tipping point. Once the dams broke and the tides all followed my gravitational pull, I would preside as the supreme ruler of this realm.

In fact, I welcomed the sluggish pace in our gains. The longer that demons like Herzblatt and Vendetta were locked in combat, the more time I had to implement my countermeasures. There would, assuredly, be a fight for control after this was over, but I would be far ahead of the rest.

The only thing that vexed me was that Ishmael requested funds.

It was obvious that he was on the back foot against whatever he stood up against. Only a handful of days had passed as well. To be so outclassed so quickly was unlike Ishmael.

It created a debate in my head. Do I need to bolster him so that he will win or should I take advantage of his surprising weakness compared to his foes and leave him to die at the hands of someone else?

My rejection came quickly, but there was a good reason for it.

In my throne room stood a cockatrice that had delivered a message shortly after Ishmael had reached the realm above.

"The Demon in Red wishes to make an agreement with you in the event that negotiations with your leader fail," the demon known as Basil informed me. "The Demon in Red is seeking those that will help maintain the status quo. You have been deemed someone who is interested in ruling over the world as it stands and not one plunged into chaos."

A door opened up just enough that I was able to slip through. The Demon in Red could very well be more powerful than Ishmael. However, more importantly, they played a similar game to myself. Politics and guile took the spotlight from gratuitous violence. Against the Demon in Red, I could see a game I could win on my own merits.

Right then and there, I made a gamble that Ishmael would not overcome what was placed before him. Even if he did succeed, I would still have my primary plan in place. Ishmael would remain in the higher realm while I organized my power.

It was as though my very thoughts were being read. A nauseous sound came from overhead. Both Basil and I rushed to see that the sky was indeed falling. I saw an angel grappling with a black dragon and my smile quickly soured. It appeared that Ishmael was far better at the game of demon than I ever would be.

He would not stay confined. He brought the fight to me. I only chuckled, for there was nothing else to be done. Even if I were to crawl into my alternate dimension, I would eventually be forced out again.

"All of this, just for some XP?"

[Yoshitsune]

My soul was turbulent in the days following my death at the hands of Ishmael. He relented, giving me back Tisiphone and Seift before departing for the skies. As I watched him go, though it was blasphemous to my own lord, I knew that Ishmael would be the ultimate victor. I had yet to see anything to prove otherwise.

Maybe that's why I refused to go with my comrades back to Avalon. Maybe that's why I wasn't surprised when contact from the Chivalrous Demon disappeared. In my mind, they were natural conclusions to a story that I couldn't stop.

I remained at the smoldering ruins of the fort I failed to avenge, lost within the maze of my own thoughts. I wondered if my words had reached Ishmael's soul. I agonized over whether or not I had not enough, whether or not I had ever been enough to stop him from plunging the world into nothingness.

Why was he so eager to sever our bonds in favor of the void? Were he feelings not a mirror of my own?

I knew the answer to that question already. Our affection could only work in a world of turmoil. Once I forced him to tame himself, he would grow to resent me as I would grow to resent him for failing to change when killing was no longer required. I could only hope that his motivation behind ending the world resided in the desire to preserve our relationship in the kindest light possible.

I thought about the wife he told me about. I wondered if this hope to enshrine an ill-fated love resided with her originally; that there was nothing that could be done to override those memories. They were core pieces of him, stones that could not lightly be overturned.

In reality, I sat here not to ruminate over my decisions or pray that he took my words to heart. I sat here waiting to die.

At some point, this would all turn black and I would lose myself in the cold nothingness. Would I scream at the loss of sensation? Would I know anything at all?

I could not comprehend it, I could not steer the ship away from the rocks. I could only sit and wait until the world answered my questions.

A chunk of rock rolled by my feet. I looked up to see that the city in the clouds had been razed. With loud cracking sounds, that damage spread into the sky, slicing the sun in half with an invisible blade.

Then, it shattered into a million piece, dropping a pair of figures from the sky onto this world.

I instantly knew it was him. There had been nothing that he had failed to overcome in combat. I rose from my seat and spread my arms wide. Whatever love or scorn he delivered upon me, I would greet it with open arms and accept it.

"Farewell, Ishmael."

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