The hall's arrangent resembled a "U" shape, its seating curving inward, all facing a singular elevated throne. The highest seat in the room sat atop a raised dais, looming over the others.
Unlike the rest, this triangular table had three seats—reserved for the monarchs of malevolence.
On the left, a dark-eyed young man with dark circles beneath his eyes sat with an air of complete detachnt, his face carved into an expression of apathy.
His brown and red attire was simple yet ancient, so dark wrist adornnt on both hands, his presence radiating sothing far more insidious than re evil.
This was Ahriman—one of the Three Great Evils of the world. He embodied Nihil—the Evil of aninglessness.
On the right, a voluptuous woman lounged with sultry amusent, her dark green hair cascading down her back, several tentacles writhing from her spine like sentient shadows.
She wore a purple, suggestive dress, its fabric teasingly sparse, barely covering her degenerate form. A short black garnt veiled her lower half, though it seed more decorative than practical.
.Côm-cσ๓
This was Cthulhu—the second of the Three Great Evils. She embodied Malice—the Evil of Cruelty.
Her flat green pupils glead with pleasure as she yanked on a leash in her grip. The other end was fastened to a maid woman, stripped down to her undergarnts, her body bound in thick, enchanted chains.
Every ti Cthulhu tugged, the woman gritted her teeth, trembling with rage and humiliation, her wounds still fresh from whatever tornt had befallen her. Cthulhu only giggled, her tentacles coiling playfully as she savored the suffering of her captive.
And at the head of the hall, facing the entire gathering of darkness, sat the man who ruled them all.
Severe handsoness defined him—his dark eyes held an abyssal depth, his pale skin glead like polished bone, and his raven-black hair fell like ink, still damp as if freshly subrged in so unknown abyss.
He wore an extravagant black coat of leathery texture, embroidered with runes and cryptic symbols that shimred with an unsettling glow. Beneath it, a pristine white garnt clung to his form, contrasting sharply against the obsidian black of his lower attire.
Behind him, a massive black dragon lay curled in slumber, its gigantic form casting a shadow over the hall. Even from half a mile away, one would notice its enormous presence, undeniably. Its scales exuding an ancient, overwhelming power.
Everything about this man dripped with opulence, excess, and luxury, yet beneath that refined decadence lurked an insatiable hunger.
This was Sarvest—the only proxy of Lucci Fernostar, also known as Satanas.
Sarvest was the third of the Great Evils. He embodied Avaris—the Evil of Endless Hunger.
No one knew where he ca from or who he truly was. But when Satanas fell in total defeat 4,000 years ago, he chose Sarvest as his proxy before vanishing into seclusion.
Since then, Sarvest had ruled the Underworld, reigning with ticulous diligence as a founding pillar of the Three Great Evils.
"Cthulhu." Sarvest's voice was cool, yet unmistakably commanding. "We are about to comnce this crucial eting. Would you refrain from playing with your toy for now?"
A slow, drawn-out silence followed. Cthulhu's green pupils flicked toward him, her tentacles twitching in irritation.
"Huh?" she scoffed, tilting her head with exaggerated disbelief. "I don't like that tone of yours. I can play with my dolls whenever I like. You're not my boss."
Sarvest's right eye twitched, a faint glimr of red light forming in its depths. An upside-down, five-pointed star flickered in his pupil.
"Cthulhu..." His voice darkened, the sound of a barely restrained growl creeping beneath his words.
Cthulhu's expression sharpened. She leaned forward, tentacles tightening behind her as she let out a mocking laugh.
"What? You want to fight , you upstart?" she sneered. "After getting yourself disgraced and rubbished by a re mutt?"
Sarvest's jaw tightened, but he said nothing. His fingers curled against the armrest of his lavish throne, and he began to rise—
"Wait. Both of you."
The voice was soft, unforced, and devoid of tension.
Ahriman had spoken.
He hadn't raised his voice, nor did he look remotely interested in the tension crackling between them. Yet, sohow, the weight of his words caused both to pause.
"We all have things we'd rather be doing," Ahriman murmured, not even sparing them a glance. "Let's just finish this quickly and leave. Fighting amongst ourselves is... aningless."
Sarvest stood halfway, his posture tense, but after a long pause, he exhaled and lowered himself back onto his extravagant seat.
"You're right, Ahriman." His fingers tapped against the armrest in irritation.
Ahriman let out a soft breath, his deadened eyes barely shifting toward him. "You should be used to Cthulhu's pointless antics by now. You seem... stressed."
Cthulhu let out a snicker, kicking one leg over the other.
"Ahriman, want to fight ?" she asked, too casually.
Ahriman's eyes didn't waver. "aningless and irrational. What would it clarify? You're stronger than at any rate."
Cthulhu's pupils narrowed. "Then never call my antics pointless again." Her voice turned low, a warning laced with venom. "I'll ruin you."
"Fine." Ahriman didn't hesitate.
His complete lack of resistance seed to satisfy her.
Then, without turning his head, Ahriman added, "But dispose of the human already, so we can start the eting. We'll wait."
Cthulhu's lips puckered in childish frustration.
She let out a moan, flailing her arms dramatically. "Ugh. But I wanted to wait longer... let the humiliation sink in."
No one responded.
She pouted, sulking like a child before finally sighing in mock defeat.
"Very well." Her gaze slithered down to the woman still chained at her feet.
Blood dripped from the woman's torn skin, pooling beneath her on the polished floor. One of her eyes was swollen shut, the other brimming with pure, undiluted hatred as she glared up at Cthulhu.
Cthulhu smirked. Her fingers tightened around the leash, giving it a light, experintal tug.
"I'll be mutilating you in the vilest possible way, at this point." she whispered, her voice sickeningly sweet.
A distorted smile stretched across her lips, her pupils glimring with malicious delight.
She licked her lips.
"I'll make it sloooooow..." her voice dragged out, filled with cruel amusent. "Try not to scream too quickly, Mrs. Champion of Gihon."
Reviews
All reviews (0)