Demon Duchess Graemory moved through the laboratory with her usual effortless grace, her black and tight attire emphasizing the quiet authority she carried. The air inside the chamber was thick with the scent of burning incense and alchemical reagents, a mixture of the arcane and the scientific things happening here.
Scholars in dark robes worked tirelessly at their stations, hunched over glowing instrunts, intricate runes etched into tal plates, and swirling vials of unknown liquids.
The hum of arcane machinery resonated softly through the room, punctuated by the occasional flicker of unstable energy.
Most of them were working on various research projects, but a select few were focused on one particular subject, that was the black substance Clyde had retrieved from the anomaly he had slain. A sample of sothing far beyond even their comprehension.
Graemory had not expected it to take this long to uncover a results. She had assud that her scholars, the most capable minds under her command, would have deciphered its nature sooner. And yet, only now had they summoned her and saying that they had finally reached a conclusion.
She stopped near a circular table where a group of scholars stood waiting with their tense expressions. A large crystal container rested at the center, suspended in midair by an intricate lattice of red threads inscribed with demonic runes. Inside, the black substance pulsed faintly, as if it were alive after receiving magic power.
Graemory narrowed her eyes. That was new. She never knew that thing could be alive.
One of the scholars, an aged Demon with sharp, silver horns curling back over his head, stepped forward and bowed. "Your Grace, we have completed our analysis."
"Then speak," she commanded, crossing her arms.
The scholar hesitated only briefly before nodding. "This substance... it does not belong to our realm or the realm of Celestials or Angels."
Graemory’s expression remained stern for now, though she had already suspected as much.
"Elaborate," she said.
The scholar turned to the crystal container, gesturing towards the swirling black mass inside.
"Its composition defies all known magical and physical laws of our realm. It does not react to elental forces, does not decay even though its technically already dead, and cannot be destroyed by any conventional ans. More importantly..." He glanced at her, his crimson eyes dark with unease. "It is not inert."
Graemory’s gaze sharpened. "You an to say it is alive right now?"
"Not in the way we understand life, Your Grace," the scholar clarified quickly. "But it exhibits behavior akin to awareness. When exposed to external stimuli of magic power, it shifts and responds, as if... reacting to being observed."
A heavy silence settled over the room. Even among Demons, there were few things more unsettling than sothing that should not exist behaving as if it had will of its own.
Graemory studied the black substance, its faint pulsing like a slow heartbeat.
"And its origin?" she asked.
The scholar hesitated.
She exhaled impatiently. "Speak freely."
He lowered his gaze. "The patterns within its structure... they match the energy found from the monster that ca out from the Black Wall."
Graemory’s fingers curled slightly at her side. The Black Wall again.
First, the strange anomalies appearing. Then Clyde bringing this unknown material. She also recived news that’s Archangel Uriel had retrieved a fragnt bearing the strange runes they can’t read and giving it freely to King Belial.
And right now, she just found out that there’s anomaly that have sa substance as the monster coming out of the Black Wall, that can communicate with Clyde.
Sothing was clearly happening with the Black Wall right now. Sothing beyond even Celestials, Demons, and Angels. That wall is active.
Graemory tapped a single black-painted fingernail against the crystal container, watching as the substance inside shifted ever so slightly in response.
"He must be inford of this," she murmured. Then, turning to the scholar, she asked, "Can it be weaponized?"
The Demon hesitated once more, his unease growing. "Possibly. But if we attempt to shape it, there is a risk of... waking it. Or maybe we will got infected by this."
Graemory’s gaze lingered on the pulsing darkness.
"Then we proceed carefully," she said. "I want every discovery reported to imdiately. And prepare a secure thod of transportation. This will not remain here much longer. I don’t like this thing."
With that, she turned and strode out of the laboratory, her mind already calculating the next steps.
If the Black Wall was beginning to stir, then a huge and fundantal event will be starting. She have to prepare for this.
---
Clyde didn’t know what to think. So, instead of doing anything productive, he just lay on his bed and staring up at the ceiling.
There was an unshakable weight in his chest, a feeling that he should be doing sothing, making plans, preparing, but for what? He had no idea where to start unraveling it.
So he did nothing. Its been so long since he rest and having a ti like this.
The door to his room swung open without warning.
Clyde sat up instantly, eyes snapping to the entrance. Graemory stepped inside with brisk movents, her usual deanor shadowed by sothing tight in her expression.
She was tense.
That was enough to put Clyde on edge. That ant sothing was seriously wrong.
"What’s wrong?" Clyde asked, his tone sharp with urgency.
Graemory shut the door behind her, crossing the room in a few graceful strides. "The substance," she said, wasting no ti. "I got the results about what it is."
Clyde straightened, his mind snapping into focus."And?"
Graemory hesitated, sothing rare for her. Then, she took a asured breath. "It’s not sothing familiar to us."
Clyde’s brow furrowed. "You an not from this realm?"
"No," she corrected. "Not from any realm. Not from the Celestials. Not from the Angels. Not even from Hell itself. Whatever that thing is... it doesn’t belong to anything we know."
A strange chill settled over Clyde’s skin. Just like he thought.
He thought back to the way the anomaly had spoken to him before he killed it.
Graemory continued, stepping closer. "It doesn’t decay and doesn’t break even though its host was dead. It reacts to magic and shifts as if it’s aware of being observed." Her crimson eyes t his. "It is still alive, Clyde."
"It gets worse. The energy it contains matches the monsters coming from the Black Wall."
Clyde frowned slightly at the ntion.
The Black Wall. The source of everything mysterious and unknown. And it was connected to him.
He t Graemory’s gaze again. "What are you thinking?"
She let out a slow breath. "It ans the Black Wall isn’t just spitting out monsters anymore. I think It’s waking up."
---
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