Bel's gaze dropped.
His eyes, glowing and purple, locked onto the demon kneeling before him. The moment their eyes met, the demon felt it. A pressure. A terrifying, gigantic pressure.
The demon's words caught in his throat. He blinked once, twice, searching Bel's face for a reaction.
Nothing.
And yet, everything.
He had the overwhelming certainty that one of his words, just one, had opened a door he should never have touched. A door to death.
"What... what did I say wrong?" he whispered inside his own head.
He thought back quickly. Had he sounded arrogant? Too commanding? He bowed his head lower, heart pounding.
"No, no, I was respectful. I praised him, didn't I? Maybe... maybe I spoke too much?"
Bel took a step forward.
A quiet, simple step, but it felt like a mountain shifting.
The demon froze.
"He's coming," he realized. "He's not saying a word. Just walking. That's worse. That's so much worse."
Panic crept into his chest.
