"Is it all in place?" I asked Ghislaine, my First Scientist.
She belonged to the Witch Faction—a collective of frail but frighteningly gifted magician women born with too much power for their bodies to safely contain.
"Of course, my prince," she said in her characteristically flat tone. "The Mind-Mages and Flesh Warpers await your command."
I nodded, eyes never leaving the tablet in my hand. The latest report on the Scourge Project glowed across the screen—a supervirus designed to purge humanity, leaving only those with active and dormant X-genes alive. Almost ready. But without a path to the surface, it meant nothing.
Another reason this Ascension couldn't wait.
The vault ahead of us groaned open, metal shrieking against metal. On the other side stood a young woman—pinkish-purple hair, bright green eyes, Asian features. Without a word, she spread her hands and tore open a door in space. A smooth rip in reality led to my private lab on the far side of the planet, beyond the sight of greater demons, foreign dignitaries, or my father.
A group of scientists, mind-mages, flesh warpers, and select members of my inner circle waited for us.
We stepped through. The portal sealed behind us.
The subterranean chamber was vast—stone walls etched with runes, lined with Limbo-forged machines and scavenged surface tech. Two tanks sat at the center, one holding an unconscious woman—a girl who called herself Rogue. Her mutation allowed her to siphon energy through touch. Properly trained, she could've been untouchable.
But the humans lacked vision. Down here, she served a greater purpose.
Limbo itself stood at the edge of collapse. Since the Nephilim's victory, the people had lost faith. The Archdemon factions circled like sharks, and off-world vultures gathered to watch us bleed. Even with five successful Ascendants under my command and our armies poised to take the surface, the nobles wanted results now—and Belasco's name alone no longer cowed them.
Worse still, word had reached us that Vergil Sparda was coming. They called him the Moon-Breaker now. Even Father might struggle against him, not that Vergil would ever win, but Limbo would fall all the same before I got my chance on the throne.
I would not stand for that. Not after a thousand years of playing the dutiful son, the heir that would never ascend.
"This is the first day of the rest of our lives," I said, turning to the assembly. "For centuries, we've been bound by blood and biology. Today, we break those chains. When this is done, the demonic race will stand beside the ancient demon Clans of the Galaxy. We will no longer pay tribute or beg for recognition. We will take it."
Cheers rippled through the chamber. The fervor brought a small smile to my lips. Not all of it was a lie. My circle would rise with me, though in lesser vessels. The centuries of cross-breeding had yielded enough mutant bodies for that. Gamma and Betas were plentiful; Alpha-levels were rare; Omega was impossible for my current level.
Only three existed—all harvested from the surface. One dead by Dante's hand. The other was enslaved, and the third, Rogue—she was waiting for me.
"It has been a privilege to serve," Ghislaine murmured beside me, bowing low.
I acknowledged her with a nod and handed my tablet to an attendant, stripping off my robe as I approached the chamber. "Then let's not keep the world waiting."
"I suppose you shouldn't," said a smooth, regal voice behind me.
My body locked. Cold dread turned to heat. I spun, blood already boiling.
"Blood Armor."
"Court of Blood."
"Blood Burst."
My blood erupted from my pores, crystallizing into a diamond-hard shell. A spear formed in my hand as my Partial Domain unfolded, painting the air crimson. A spectral throne room bled into reality—a half-finished fortress of scarlet glass and obsidian marble.
Within it, my magic roared.
Blood Burst was a simple, if effective spell. It infected the target's blood, seized control, and detonated.
Against a lesser demon, it was instant death. Against Belasco, it would buy me a heartbeat, even with my Partial Domain.
Enough for Blink to escape.
I met her eyes and gave the silent order. Blink's portal rippled open, then collapsed. A wet, choking sound cut through the chamber. My head snapped to it. A crystal dagger was sticking out from her stomach, cutting straight through her spine. Ghislaine pulled it out, and I detonated the blood in her skull.
How! How could I have missed it?
When had he gotten to them?
Ghislaine wasn't alone. Half the lab turned their weapons and magic on me—scientists, mages, my own people. Their magic fizzled and flickered under my Domain, yet they didn't back down. Their betrayal cut deep.
And then there was him.
Belasco stood a few paces away, immaculate as ever. His white robes glowed faintly against the crimson light. His gnarled staff—said to be carved from the World Tree itself—hovered lazily at his side, its surface crawling with runes so fine they seemed alive. His curved horns framed his sculpted, aging face.
"How long have you known?" I demanded.
He smiled, calm, paternal. "Since the very beginning," he said. "You forget, son—I taught you everything you know."
"Not everything," I snarled. "If you could ascend alone, you would have."
"True," he admitted, stepping closer. "But I am no master of blood or biology, not as you are. Still, I know more of magic than any living creature—save the Demon Kings. Did you truly believe I would not see this coming?"
I gritted my teeth. "You've always underestimated me. I counted on it."
His expression softened. "And I counted on your pride. Credit where it's due—you've done well. I would never have caught you had I not watched you from the start." His hand settled gently on my armored shoulder. "Which is why I will not make you suffer."
Rage burned through me. "Blood Plague."
The words were poison, the spell worse. It was a blood curse that ate away at the target's everything—blood, flesh, magic, and soul.
It was typically a single-target spell, but I leveraged the magic amplification properties of my domain and unleashed it on everyone in a half-mile radius—the maximum range of my Domain.
I expected it to have some effect. Stagger him at least. But before the spell could bloom, Belasco's domain washed over mine, snuffing it out.
"Solomon's Palace. Dispel."
A golden Palace replaced mine, the fixtures as solid as stone. My magic evaporated, my armor shattered, and even my reserves partially evaporated.
I stumbled. His hand never left my shoulder.
"Bands of Cytorak. Spelled Chains."
Crimson and metal coils snapped into being, wrapping my limbs, piercing flesh, choking off every ounce of magic. I fell to my knees as his Domain receded, leaving only silence and the steady hum of machinery.
Belasco sighed. "I would've let you Ascended in time, son. You could've ruled Limbo after I claimed the Earth."
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