The Heavenly Demon of Terror

Samuel's POV

I stood at the edge of the ritual circle, boots planted firm against the rune-etched stone, arms crossed. The starlit basin at the center pulsed like a living thing, filled with cosmic ichor — or maybe just fate given form.

Roselle stood like a monarch cloaked in silence. Beside her, Nocturne — the Goddess of Despair — tilted her head, watching me like a cat sizing up whether I was prey, a threat... or both.

"I'll ask this once," I said, my voice steady, low. "What's the plan you two are dancing around?"

Nocturne smiled — and it wasn't kind.

She stepped forward, obsidian heels clicking softly against the altar stone. Her gaze swept over Henry, lingering just long enough to make him shift uncomfortably. Then she looked at me, crimson-stained lips parting.

"The plan," she said, "is to trap a god."

I raised a brow.

Nocturne went on, circling the basin like a dark priestess. "The Null Architects have taken notice. One in particular — the one who stitched the Forgotten Gate shut with his own essence. He's waking."

Roselle's voice was a whisper behind me. "We can't kill them, Samuel. Not yet. But we can bind one. Force it to give us the key."

"And how do you plan to do that?" I asked, folding my arms. "Ask nicely?"