Lilithâs situation was terrible. Her once beautiful form had warped into that of a malformed, hideous hag.
She stared at Damonâs inhuman body, then at the leg that had regenerated after the corruption spread through him. The flesh was twisted and blackened, barely resembling something human anymore, yet it had still grown back. Somehow, despite the corruption, Damonâs mind remained his ownâ
Though only barely.
"What did you do?" she asked quietly, feeling her own thoughts being clawed at by distant whispers.
Damon lowered his head slightly.
"I opened my eyes to the truth."
Lilith took a shaky breath.
"What now? Ashcroftâs broadcast plan failed, we almost got us killed, weâre corrupted, hated by society, and now we look like monsters."
"Donât worry." Damonâs voice came out husky and distorted, echoing unnaturally from his monstrous throat. "I still think youâre pretty."
Lilith touched her wart-covered face bitterly. She hated him seeing her in such a pathetic state.
"Shut up. This isnât the time for your jokes. We need to get out of here before the city goes to hell."
"Grrr..."
Ashcroft let out a low growl, baring his tiny canine teeth.
"I think we are missing the true objective here. The Unknown Godâs riddles are always cruel, but he leaves a path forward. His games are difficult... never impossible."
Damon crossed his bone-jutted arms and narrowed his glowing crimson eyes.
"Hmmm... maybe the Unknown God destroying everything isnât entirely wrong." His voice grew quieter. "This world is cruel and unfair. People are born into hellish circumstances."
Lilith lowered her head.
The more she thought about it, the more his words made sense.
Look at her now.
Born hated. Treated like a witch. Turned into this hideous beldam.
And it would only become worse.
As far as Belâs memories stretched, nobody had ever truly loved her. People only shunned her, beat her, mocked her, or tried to use her for their own vile desires.
And she was still one of the lucky ones.
There were people who had suffered far more.
"What are you saying?" Lilith whispered.
Damon slowly lowered his gaze.
"Some people are born into wealth and spend their entire lives believing their perspective is the only truth in existence. Some are born poor and become rich. Some never escape poverty no matter how hard they struggle."
His claws curled slightly.
"Some are born healthy. Some are barely born at all. Some enter the world blind, crippled, broken."
His voice hollowed.
"And even if you avoid all that, youâre still born into inequality. There are gaps people can never cross. Not even with hard work."
He laughed bitterly.
"Someone ugly can never truly become beautiful. Someone mediocre can never surpass a genuine genius. Someone born an orphan can never give birth to their own parents."
Damon lowered his head completely.
"Birth is truly the greatest curse."
Ashcroft remained silent.
Even he did not know how to argue against that.
"Itâs true," Damon muttered. "I know it... but..."
Ashcroftâs ears immediately perked up.
Everything before the word "but" was meaningless.
Damon pressed a clawed hand against his chest.
"No one in this world not even the most powerful entity in existence, not even a literal god can tell me my Ranarâs birth is wrong."
His crimson eyes trembled faintly.
"Sheâs not a mistake. Sheâs not cursed. Sheâs perfect. Cute. The best thing thatâs ever happened to me."
The corruption around his arm spread further, yet his voice became strangely gentle.
"If I could choose whether to be born or not, even knowing I would suffer through everything again... Iâd still choose life."
A faint smile crossed his monstrous face.
"Just for that one moment where I get to hold her in my arms."
Lilith stared at him quietly.
"He may be correct," Damon continued, "but that doesnât mean heâs right."
His fist tightened until black blood dripped from his claws.
"And even if he is right... I donât care."
The corruption inside him pulsed violently.
"My Ranarâs birth is the greatest act of creation."
Ashcroft stared at him for a long moment before scoffing.
"We arenât going to win," he admitted. "But fighting losing battles isnât new to me."
The small dog lifted his head proudly.
"I am Ashcroft, the Demon Lord who dared to face the Goddess of Doom and call her by the title she despises."
Lilith slowly stood, hiding half her grotesque face beneath tangled hair.
"And I am Lilith Astranova, Priestess of the Void. Though my patron god wishes to end all things... I vehemently disagree."
Damon rolled his glowing crimson eyes.
"Iâm Damon Grey, though I still donât understand why everyone keeps introducing themselves."
Ashcroft squealed angrily.
"Just like you to ruin the moment."
Lilith laughed softly despite herself before glancing toward the manhole cover above them.
"Whatever is waiting for us up there might be our end," she whispered. "But Iâm glad I get to die with you. At least our promise is kept."
Damon stepped in front of her.
His body was twisted, skeletal, and foul, yet he still stood tall.
"I did not imagine the road to ruin would become any worse than this."
Then Damon grabbed Lilith and punched upward.
BOOM.
The ground exploded apart.
The earth trembled violently beneath them.
When Damon looked toward the sky, his breathing stopped.
The heavens had turned pitch black, as though countless nights had been layered over one another.
A massive tear split open space itself.
And in the distance, the crystal tower unleashed a colossal wave of magical energy across the sky.
At its base stood several Outsiders alongside the rulers of Lysithara, all staring upward in grim anticipation..
Wisps of light fell from the sky like meteors, slamming into anyone unfortunate enough to stand beneath them.
The moment those lights touched flesh, the victims began to change.
Their souls were forcefully torn out and overwritten.
Bodies twisted violently as foreign souls seized control, reshaping flesh, rank, and class to match themselves until the vessel reached the worldâs level limit.
The crystal tower possessed this function.
It had always possessed this function.
The tower was never merely a beacon or a coordinate marker. Mugu had built it using knowledge granted by the Unknown God alongside the aid of the Six Sages of Lysithara.
Its true purpose was horrifying.
The tower forcefully rewrote reality itself, transforming incompatible vessels into perfect hosts for the Outsiders descending into the world. It protected them from the will of the world while stabilizing their existence.
It was not simply magical technology.
It was an apocalypse disguised as a masterpiece.