Page 110 of Demon Monster's Little Human

This was not a battle.

This was a purge.

Something killed them from the inside out.

A deep, guttural rumble shudders through the stronghold.

The air thickens and the shadows move.

Suddenly, at the heart of the massacre, I see it.

The artifact is no longer dormant.

It floats in the center of the grand hall, suspended in air, black veins of energy writhing around it like living shadows.

It is not just a relic.

It is a living thing.

And it is awake.

A force slams into my chest, sending me skidding backward. The magic is suffocating, thick and pulsing, alive with a malevolent will. The whispers in my head are deafening now, a chorus of ancient voices screeching in a language older than time.

The artifact isn’t satisfied with this level of destruction, of me.

It wanted her. It always wanted Amara.

Now, it wants Liora.

My wings flare, my fangs lengthen, my claws curl into my palms as rage ignites in me.

I was a fool.

I thought I could walk away. Imagined I could let her go.

I must stop this or it will consume her.

A pulse of magic slams into me again, forcing me back. The shadows coil tighter around the artifact, their form shifting, twisting—taking shape.

A voice slithers through the air, deep and ancient, filled with something worse than hatred.

"She belongs to me."

I lunge forward, slicing my claws through the darkness, but it reforms instantly, laughing.

"You will never break free of this, Dain. And neither will she."

I bare my fangs. My magic surges through me, raw and violent.

"Then I will destroy you first," I snarl.

But I already know the truth.

The artifact cannot be destroyed. Not without sealing it again.

There is only one way to do that. I have to kill Liora. I must end the cycle.

I freeze.

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