The Absolute Vault of the Spire of Sins was a place where silence possessed a physical weight.
The walls were lined with the calcified remains of ancient, failed gods, their essences woven into the very formation to strengthen the seals.
As the massive, iron-bound doors groaned open, the seven Demon Lords stepped into a chamber that should have been the most secure place in the entire Demonic Realm.
Deimos, the Lord of Discord, walked toward the central pedestal with a sense of dread.
The blood-seals on the exterior had been perfect. Yet, as the dust of centuries settled, the truth was laid bare.
The pedestal was empty.
Where the Pearl of Calamity, a relic forged in the chaotic fires of the Demonic Grounds should have sat, there was only a mocking void.
In its place, pinned down by a single, dark-red demon scale, sat a small scrap of parchment.
