Devil's Apocalypse

A cold, yet somehow unpleasantly warm, feeling seeped through their body.

A pounding rhythm, denied the encroaching dark.

Their head, gone light, their vision, distorted. A constant ringing drowning out the surrounding environment, making any incoming sounds incoherent, near impossible to interpret.

A thunderous explosion, which had temporarily broken through, the sound of shattering rock even more vociferous than the ear piercing ring. A hazy figure moved into view, stumbling a single step as a few drops of gold hit the floor, before straightening up and calmly moving closer. They crouched down, muttering something incoherent, the recipient of the words groggily blinked, but their eyes did not clear.

A spasm traveled all throughout their being, their throat suddenly clogged by viscous fluids. A choked, forceful exhalation of lung contents poured a black substance onto the ground, and with it, the cold feeling encroached further, the rhythm growing weaker.

The hazy figure spoke a few words, reaching out a hand, then pulling it back, but the supposed recipient of those words did not, could not, understand them over the ringing in their head. Rather than the figure, their attention was drawn to the 'pure' filth which had penetrated their body, corroding their being, as the sputtering energy left over from whatever they were doing prior failed to suppress it.

They blearily turned their unfocused pupils onto the figure, their sight becoming more and more distorted, as another echoing boom ripped through the solitary ringing which encompassed the world. A grey sheet spontaneously burst into existence, denser particles falling to the ground amongst it yet none falling onto themself, the figure seemed to have conjured a golden wall to protect them.

They recoiled from it in pain.

Seeing this, the figure made a gesture, and the wall vanished, though any further action on their part was not witnessed as their mind and body finally accepted the oppressive, yet comforting, dark.

---

"Forgive me for being blunt, Sir, but why the hell didn't you finish it off!? Even going so far as to order it be saved!"

"Her."

The Aid did not understand the actions of the Director and, while this state of mind was not unique, with the Director confusing all of his subordinates every day, the circumstances were and they called for an immediate explanation, but the Director was not making things simple.

"She. And I suggest you check your tone." The Director locked his gaze on the Aid, making him shiver slightly, and he was reminded of his place in this organisation, bowing his head slightly in apology, he couldn't afford to completely back down, especially since this was the first time he had ever seen the director injured by anything other than his own foolishness.

"What do you mean, 'her'? Are you talking about the monkey?"

The Director grinned slightly, as if the Aid had just said something hilarious, though he still did not reply. Seeing how nothing was coming of his questioning, the Aid stopped pestering the Director for answers, but his unease and annoyance were clear from his expression.

It took very little time for Laurence to arrive before them, having escorted a greater bone weaver due to its innate control and skill for manipulating and introducing dark mana to foreign bodies. These demons, despite their disturbing appearance, were often found performing demonic purification rituals and acting as combat medics since they can effortlessly eradicate light mana from the bodies of fellow demons. However, most were still cautious of them as this skill also allowed them to rip apart their foes by controlling the bones of others.

Following the Director back to the monkey, he observed its prone, shivering form, and noticed a few details he had missed last time, namely, the fact that what he took to be fur… might actually be some very shoddily designed robe. The arms of the robe had been torn away, revealing what appeared at first glance to be the red skin common of low leveled demons, but was actually a thick coating of blood, as revealed by a bit of it being scraped off on the stones.

"Wait… if it isn't a monkey… what the hell is it?"

"It's 'she'." The Director sported an unconcerned look, "And she's the current devil."

The Aid gaped at the Director, waiting for the punchline, however, when no other words arrived, he just turned back and stared at what was one of the most unique existences born from the system.

As the Aid was trying to process this bombshell, the weaver stood up and ever so slightly nodded towards the Director, signifying that its work was done, before seeming to glide back down the corridor the way it had come.

"Laurence." The Director turned to the creature with the current appearance of a teenager, who seemed to be deeply invested in the wall to their left. "Did you know that she was here? Was the Devil the reason you picked your new form?"

Laurence beamed up at the Director, nodding at a speed which would give whiplash to any 'normal' human, eliciting an accusatory stare from the Aid, and a blank expression from the Director.

"I know you're not paid for your competence-" The Director glared at the Aid, who seemed confused at the sudden hostility he was shown, "-but inform me if something of this importance happens again."

Laurence tilted her head slightly, seeming to weigh the pros and cons of such an action before vocalising an agreement

With all the immediate dangers and questions resolved, the Director's serious mood completely vanished, replaced with his usual carefree tone.

"Aid, ȧssign that really fancy spare room to our new, half-dead yet still devilish, friend here. Laurence, please escort her there and I'll send some staff to clean her up."

"But Sir! That room is currently occupied by an envoy from the Lord of Greed, and he already hates us because of you and our affiliation with the Lord of Pride! We can't just-"

"Kick him out, not like he matters anyway."

"If ol' Harj wanted us to take his envoy seriously, he shouldn't have sent such a weakling. So kick him out. In fact, ȧssign him that really shitty room out the back."

"B-but... That would ruin any hope for negotiations!"

Unfortunately for him, the Aid's cries fell on deaf ears, as the Director strolled away whistling a happy tune, and Laurence was already moving to fulfil his orders.