Abyssal Second Layer. Vigil's Point.
Silence settled over the territory, heavy and absolute.
After Makareth's purge, the atmosphere at Vigil's Point shifted from chaotic to deathly still. The dissenters—the loud ones, the schemers—had been dragged out and slaughtered. That was the Demon way of handling HR disputes: simple, direct, and incredibly effective.
"Hand over the controls to the defensive ward," Orion said, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "Staring at them isn't going to get us anywhere."
Orion had been analyzing the Unhallowed for hours. He hadn't found a structural weak point—the things were walking glitches in reality—but the hunger in his gut was undeniable. He needed that gray crystal.
"Hulk, the territory is stable," Makareth rumbled, his voice low. "We don't need to be this aggressive. You saw what those things can do."
Makareth had tanked the Unhallowed; he knew their damage output. His advice was sound: hold the line, let the wards do the work.
