Chapter 56: GRANULARITY
In the Abyssal Chamber Beyond the Mortal Veil...
In a place beyond time, where no sun shone and no wind dared to whisper, there stood a throne carved from black obsidian, pulsing faintly with red veins that looked like molten lava beneath the surface.
This was no palace. No realm of kings.
This was the Abyssal Chamber—a sacred hall at the heart of the Netherplane, where light could not survive, and even the stars refused to look.
Upon the throne sat a figure.
He looked like a man... but he was not.
He was flawless—skin as smooth as glass, features sculpted with impossible precision, and hair blacker than the void itself. His eyes? Twin pits of bottomless red, glowing dimly, like dying embers in a sleeping fire. His clothes were regal, woven from threads of darkness and gold, flowing like silk, yet heavy like chains.
He sat there, one leg crossed over the other, a wine glass of blood in his left hand, and a book made of stitched flesh on his lap.
His name was not spoken aloud.
He was the Lord of the Depths.
The Demon King.