"Master…" Hannya knelt before Darkness’s Right Hand. Rotten bones cracked and shattered beneath his knees as he bowed his head.

  "What is it, Hannya?" he asked, hands clasped behind his back as he observed the flow of ashes—one current shaping Lionye amid a mountain of books.

  Hannya glanced up, his eyes widening slightly at the image of Lionye. "I… Master…" His voice deepened, turning more demonic. "Why do you keep thinking about him?"

  "State. Your. Business, Hannya." Darkness’s Right Hand whispered, his voice as cold as the edge of a blade.

  A shiver ran through Hannya’s body. He immediately bowed his head again, his voice gentle. "Yes, master. I overstepped… My request is for your permission."

  "On what? Leaving the Abyss? Again?" he asked, moving his hand through the ash. Lionye’s form faded into the Hills of Jivana, replaced by shapes of Blood Dragon, Sarah, and Fojima walking toward the Grand Library. A faint smirk playing on his lips.

  "I am returning to my roots. To the Palace of Slaughter. And to Floor Zero." Hannya said.

  "I will not ask why, for you have earned my trust through the eons. Your permission is granted, Fifth General. But return with worthy assets. I will not accept failure on your terms." Darkness’s Right Hand smiled—the trust of one god to another.

  "Yes, master. I will not fail you."

  Hannya stood, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he walked into the black mists. The valley of the Abyss shone darker than ever, casting its shadow upon the world of monsters.

  ---

  "So… what did I want to do? Oh, right. Wake some sleepy old gods and either bring them to our army… or kill them." Hannya spoke to himself, hands clasped behind his head as he whistled his way toward the council. The bone gate descended as he approached, and once he was inside, the bones crawled back into place, sealing the entrance.

  Ten thrones—crafted from corrupted moonstone, obsidian, opals, and black emeralds—stood arranged in a circle. Gray branches hung from the ceiling, some twisting down to the floor. Bone bats dangled from the roof, staring with empty eye sockets toward the gate.

  Kavinash and Leminu—the Seventh General of the Abyss—sat on their thrones, deep in argument. Leminu, dressed in sky-blue attire with a yellow cloth draped from her shoulder plates, had long, straight white hair that fell to her waist. Her elven features were sharp yet soft as she glared at Kavinash on the Third General’s throne.

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  "Kavinash! Can you tell O’viles to be more careful!? You’re his superior! He’ll actually listen to you!" Leminu shouted in frustration.

  "Shut up, Lemi! You noisy—" He cut himself off, then sighed. "Fine! I’ll give him advice on how to avoid near-death experiences, since his wife is always worried about his immortal ass!" Kavinash raised his hands in surrender.

  "Ahahaha! Kavi! Since when does the God of Strength get beaten by a woman’s words?" Hannya teased, a wide grin on his face.

  Kavinash and Leminu both turned to look at him. Leminu let out a choked laugh, her hand covering her mouth as her shoulders silently shook. In laughter.

  "You filthy Twilight Elf…" Kavinash shot her a death stare before turning back to Hannya. "You dare mock me again, Hanny!" he pointed a steady finger. "I’ll make a living jar out of your skin for my house decorations!"

  "Hey, hey! No mockery!" Hannya raised his hands in surrender. "Just a reminder." He tried to suppress his laughter.

  "What?!" Kavinash said, frustrated.

  "You don’t even have a house to decorate." Hannya burst out laughing. Kavinash’s hands fell in defeat, and he began laughing too.

  "Always on point…" he smirked, patting Hannya’s shoulder.

  "And Lemi? Consider your request done. I’ll make sure you two get paired on missions from now on." Kavinash smiled as he walked away, waving a hand over his shoulder.

  "As they say, a brute needs their archer. Right, Lemi?" Hannya asked, settling onto his throne—a construction of countless skeletons and torn body parts of mythical creatures, crowned with a demon’s skull on the left and a Miliches skull on the right.

  "Yeah… you’re right, Hannya. And thank you," Leminu whispered.

  "Thank me? For what?" he asked.

  "Kavinash always lightens up when you talk to him. Just like how he talks with Liniah. You two are his anchors in the Finale. Don’t just throw your lives away," she said.

  He smirked, glancing at her. "Don’t worry. Lini and I aren’t dying. You should be more concerned about your lovely half-vampire husband."

  Leminu exhaled—a sound closer to pained breath than a sigh. "Why did the master even accept us? We were outcasts. A Twilight Elf and a hybrid from our clan. We don’t deserve to even—" Her mouth was suddenly sealed with mercury. "Mmmph!"

  "Quiet, you idiot," he smiled, the words holding no heat. "Remember the vow you made when you joined the Abyss? Your families didn’t want you. Your king wanted O’viles executed. We gave you both shelter as soldiers. The rest was your own progress."

  His index finger pointed downward, and the quicksilver fell away, fading into the ground.

  "But Sihil… he is…"

  Hannya cut her off. "Look. That bone obsessed beast has a different story. He doesn’t want a higher rank—technically, he’s Sixth General in power, but he doesn’t care. He's good with eight. So shut up and enjoy your rank as the Seventh." He let out a small laugh, hands moving through the air as mercury rose again, mapping the Palace of Slaughter. He glanced at Leminu, grinning slightly at her expression.

  "Good. That what-the-hell-are-you-saying face means my words sank in. And trust me—they’re true." His grin widened.

  Leminu set her hands on her hips and breathed out, a small smile breaking through. "Okay. Thank you, Hannya. For being so open about everything." She turned and walked toward the council’s exit, snapping her fingers to lower the bone gate. Bone bats hovered slightly as she passed through. Once she faded into the mists, the gate sealed itself again.

  Hannya, not noticing her leave, continued playing with the quicksilver, mapping the Palace of Slaughter in the air. "You’re welcome, Lemi. After all… you’re the most vulnerable general of us all, Archer of Doom." He lay back on his throne, tracing shapes in the mercury with his finger.

  "Hm? No answer?" He glanced around, finding the council empty, and let out a soft laugh.

  "Oh, by The True Darkness… you aren’t even here." he laughed at himself.

  Hands hovered in air, the mercury reshaping into the form of Floor Zero. His eyes drifted toward the dreaming creatures.

  "Just wait, you old sleeping gods… I’m going to wake you up in the worst way possible… hehehehe…"

  His laughter echoed through the empty council.