The evening was still, but the security of Eon Grove was anything but weak. High-tech drones buzzed the perimeter, and cybernetic patrols marched in harmonized rotations. Motion sensors stretched along the hidden pathways, detecting even the slightest disturbance in the air. The entire forest was a fortress disguised as nature.
Yet, something stirred beneath the shadows.
A ripple formed in the air near the outer security wall, barely visible, like heat bending light. Then—a shape emerged.
Eryx emerged, his presence blurring from a transparent mist to a solid body. His disguise took hold—a human form wrapped in the usual guard uniform, complete with cybernetic implants that throbbed weakly under the fake moonlight. The disguise was perfect. To the naked eye, he was merely another soldier on guard.
He took a deep breath. The air was clean but tainted with the smell of metal and chemical sterilization. The trees that surrounded him rustled as the wind blew through, but he could feel the underlying hum of security barriers concealed in the leaves.
His breach had to be flawless.
He moved with deliberate, measured steps, timing his pace to the patrols close by. Each step was practiced, natural, measured. His eyes flashed with an unnatural, secret light as he swept the terrain.
The true test lay ahead—the inner perimeter.
Beyond the trees was an invisible energy shield, a wall meant to ward off unauthorized entry. But Eryx was not stupid. His body flashed for a split second, his body phasing out with the physical world. He moved with deliberate, measured steps, timing his pace to the patrols close by. Each step was practiced, natural, measured. His eyes flashed with an unnatural, secret light as he swept the terrain.
The ruins lay deep within Eon Grove, buried beneath layers of earth and deception. But he had analyse the signs of minute distortions in reality that only a demon's eyes could perceive.
Then—he discovered it.
One rock, ancient and hollow, stood at a strange place on the vast mountain. Eryx laid his hand against it, muttering in an ancient language.
The earth shook.
A low, grinding sound reverberated through the quiet forest as the concealed entrance opened up—a shadowy tunnel leading down into the heart of the abandoned ruins.
Eryx smiled.
The bottomless void lay before Eryx, a labyrinth of drowned halls and fallen tunnels. The ocean's weight pressed down from all directions. No sound existed—beyond the muted groans of the ruins shifting and the muffled roar of the occasional shifting current.
The deeper he descended, the darker it was. Despite this darkness, his vision didn't falter. He was able to see clearly even in the dark thanks to his demonic eyes.
His armored body moved through the flooded tunnels, his actions abnormally smooth, unnatural—more like a predator than a diver. The maze turned in impossible directions, some of the tunnels so narrow that a human could hardly pass through them. Others led into enormous, cathedral-sized rooms where giant statues of long-forgotten gods stood in the cloudy darkness.
Most of the previous intruders didn't survive this far.
Their remains floated lifelessly, wrapped in tendrils of deep sea vegetation, their skeletons long ago stripped to pale bones by the silent, patient jaws of the abyss.
Eryx paid them no mind.
He was not them.
He was not meant to die here.
As he continued on, his senses grew sharper. The ruins were alive. Watching.
Initially, it was subtle—a flicker in his peripheral vision. a flash out of the corner of his eye. A statue that had moved position when he wasn't observing. A whisper carried by the current.
Then, the defenses kicked in.
A swift burst of activity.
Out of the shadows, guardian constructs stirred. Heightened, mask-like faces, their bodies fashioned from a blend of blackened stone and dark-sea alloys, charged forward, their empty eyes burning with ancient power.
Their weapons buzzed with energy, shifting fluidly between tridents, blades, and harpoon-like appendages.
Eryx responded immediately.
A sudden twist of his body, and he dodged the first blow—a harpoon piercing the water where his skull had been a moment before.
He flipped back, a surge of energy rippling through his body, propelling him away as another guardian lunged. Its weapon sliced through the water with lethal precision, barely missing him.
He had to be quicker.
With a thought, his camouflage kicked in. His body blurred, his form melting into the water, becoming one with the shadows.
The guardians faltered.
Then—silence.
Eryx stirred.
A blade appeared in his hand—a dark, midnight-black sword tempered in demon flames.
He didn't fight them.
He dismantled them.
A flash of motion. A precisely timed slash to the joint. A jolt of energy cutting through a power core.
Guardian after guardian fell, plunging into the depths.
A moment later, the ruins were quiet again.
Eryx let out a breath. Then, he moved forward, no hesitation.
Finally, he arrived at—
The Artifact Chamber
After what had been an eternity of fighting through underwater catacombs and shifting wreckage, he finally found it.
The heart of the ruins.
A vast, circular chamber, and at the very center…
A pedestal.
Lying on top of it, unruffled by time or rot, was the artifact.
A ring.
Small, humble—yet completely out of place.
He could sense its draw even from afar. The water around it churned abnormally, as if it was being controlled by an invisible power. The water itself curved to its command.
He approached cautiously.
Then—impact.
The instant he came too close, an invisible force was about to slam into his chest and then, he catched with his hand and crushed it into pieces.
A seal.
Liquid inscriptions of gold coiled upon the pedestal, flowing like the surface of a river. They weren't of human origin.
Eryx's breath steadied.
Of course it won't be simple.
He extended towards his belt, drawing out a slim, advanced tablet. A holographic projection of glyphs came alive, reading the seal.
A puzzle. A test.
He smiled.
His clawed hands moved swiftly over the interface, entering counter-glyphs. The tablet hummed, analyzing and trying to bypass the encryption.
The seal fought back.
The water around him vibrated, the symbols radiating brighter—more wrathfully.
A warning.
Not enough.
He shut his eyes. Then, in a tone that bore the weight of long-forgotten tongues, he chanted.
A language as old as the demons and gods.
His voice slid through the chamber, pushing against the walls themselves. The inscriptions blinked. Quivered. The seal creaked.
Then—
A crack.
The first of the seals cracked.
Eryx smirked.
Eryx's claws danced above the final glyph, his lips curling up in a smirk.
Just one more feed.
The artifact pulsed in anticipation, the seal quivering, on the point of shattering.
One click—
BOOM.
A shockwave deafened him.
He got distracted.
Then—
A figure.
The figure dove in from the top entrance and struck Eryx with a cylindrical object which emitted a faint radiance of a sledgehammer.
BOOM.
A shockwave ripped through water.
The impact slammed Eryx back, his body striking the wall with a dull crack. The water around him churned furiously, becoming a vortex of disturbed currents.
What—
His eyes went hazy, pressure ringing in his ears. His instincts raged, trying to comprehend what had occurred.
Not pain.
Aggravation. Fuming, poisonous aggravation.
He'd been pushed back.
HIM.
HIM, a demon general, attacked like some common soldier?
His fangs exposed, anger seething just beneath the surface.
The water continued to ripple. His environment churned a whirlpool of disturbed currents, disturbed dust, and his own rising fury.
He struggled to remain motionless. Centered. Logical.
His eyes flashed to the artifact.
Still there. Still within grasp.
He could still—
A shadow. A form.
Through the chaos, his eyes fixed on the intruder.
The figure was also knocked away, spiraling from the force of the recoil. But—
In that instant.
Eryx's breath caught.
The intruder's hand closed around the artifact.
No.
Light.
Blinding, overwhelming light.
Eryx's eyes contracted.
The figure disappeared along with the ring.
The force of realization hit him harder than the assault.
He was one step away. One.
A breath. A twitch of his claw.
And it was lost.
Eryx's jaw flexed. His claws tore into the rock.
The water surrounding him seethed from his anger.
His golden moment—STOLEN.
By some insignificant fool.
By a faceless loser.
His muscles tensed, energy running through the water.
His fangs clenched, low growl quivering through his chest.
This was not fear.
This was not panic.
This was sheer, undiluted hate.
For the first time in centuries—
Eryx had been bested.
Eryx's heart thumped in his ear, overwhelming the dying reverberations of the blast. Instincts wailed at him to chase, to hunt, to tear the thief limb from limb.
But he couldn't.
Because the retrieval mechanism had been triggered with the theft of the artifact.
Because this location was imploding.
RUMBLE.
The maze all around him shook violently. Ancient stone creaked and cracked, the formerly stable ruins collapsing to centuries of latent weakness. Pieces of debris started falling, dropping into the darkening abyss below.
The presence of the artifact had held things steady.Now, without it—this whole complex was disintegrating.
Tch.
Eryx's mind cleared. Survival first. Vengeance later.
He muttered some chant, and then he stood at his starting point.
The instant he arrived at the spot, his disguise came into effect.
Eryx's disguise was meticulous. His human skin, transformed by demonic magic, hid his true appearance with unnatural accuracy. His uniform, though standard issue to the guards of Eon Grove, was marked by subtle differences: a minute misalignment of insignia and an almost invisible glint that revealed the artificial quality of his cybernetic implants. Unlike the true enhancements of the other agents, visible, slender, and hi-tech, his were illusions only, designed to camouflage himself completely into his environment as he concealed his inherent ability.
he made his way down cramped alleys and dark passageways, avoiding the prying eyes of surveillance cameras and sidestepping the inquisitive glances of human security. The atmosphere was charged—a blend of urban chaos and the hint of something much darker lurking just below the surface. Each step resounded like a heartbeat in the darkness.
He finally arrived at the Edge of Eon Grove
About five kilometers from the center of the Grove, along a barren road lined with vacant factories and old warehouses, stood a lone individual waiting for instructions. Dressed in a fitted overcoat and standing under a dim streetlight, he is an agent of the Order—a clandestine group of humans laboring unknowingly on behalf of malevolent masters—glanced at his wrist communicator with a blend of apprehension and contempt. His name was Silas, a man whose cold, hard eyes and evasive mannerisms betrayed his arrogance and greed.
Silas's voice grumbled. "General, did you get it?" he demanded in a harsh tone, his voice ringing with frustration and expectation.
A deep, authoritative voice replied, "Open the portal to HQ immediately, Silas! We don't have all night!" The voice was that of Eryx, a demon-general of the Aspen Order, whose presence resonated with authority and evil.
Silas's jaw clenched. "Yes, sir." His fingers flew over the device, and he began the operation. For Silas and those like him, the Order was a means to power and a tool of a much more sinister plan. They admired their ambition and ruthlessness, but were blissfully ignorant of the real chain of command—that the demons were the real rulers, using these greedy pawns to spread chaos and domination over humankind.