The gate to the realm hissed open like a wound in the world itself. A sulphurous vapor filled the air instantly.
I held myself from coughing so hard but I could feel my eyes turn red and pricky with the strong smell.
I stepped through, my bare feet sinking into soil that pulsed faintly, as if alive.
Above me, a red sky twisted like ink in water. The palace loomed in the distance, carved from horns and bone, its windows glowing faintly with infernal light.
I swallowed hard. So this is where they train monsters.
The air smelled of ash and old clotted blood.
I moved forward briskly, my heart drumming faster with every echoing step. Around me, demons of all shapes slithered and sauntered through the courtyard.
Nephilims with black wings folded close, horned demonesses whispering with sly grins, and spectral guards who looked half-faded from existence.
As I walked past a group of lounging Nephilims, their voices echoed through the air like poisoned tea.
"The new one, huh?"
"She's fragile. Look at those eyes, too much light."
"Won't last a week.I guaranteed"
A grunt followed.
I ignored them, holding her chin high, though her hands trembled slightly, uncertain of what would happen next, the abyss was an unpredictable place. My heartbeat was a drum of defiance.
A lesser demon intercepted me, short, gray-skinned, with eyes like flickering embers.
"State your name," it croaked.
"Shaoline," she said.
The creature's head tilted. "Chosen? Or cursed?"
"I was sent."
The demon chuckled, showing a mouth full of jagged teeth. "Aren't we all?"
It motioned for her to follow. The corridors twisted downward into the palace's belly, where heat shimmered from cracks in the stone.
The demon stopped before a massive iron door carved with runes that glowed faintly. "Class of Nephilims," it rasped. "Survive, and you might be one of them."
It jabbed a clawed finger at the room.
The door creaked open.
Inside, the room looked like an arena disguised as a classroom. Shadows danced along the edges, and the air hummed with power. Nephilims sat in rows, tall and sharp-eyed, their wings folded neatly behind them, their expressions ranging from amused to bored.
I stepped inside, feeling their stares pin me in place.
That's when I saw him.
The one sitting at the back, silver-haired, his eyes burning like winter fire.
The others seemed to lean away from him, as if his very presence chilled the air. He stood slowly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
"New blood," he said softly, the words cutting through the murmurs. "We were wondering when the realm would send another toy."
Before I could respond, he moved faster than she could track. A sudden shove slammed between her shoulder blades. I stumbled forward, hitting the stone floor hard and jamming her nose against a rough.
The impact rattled my bones, the pain made my shudder, a sharp sting in my brain, blood trickled from my nose before I even realized what had happened.
A humiliating laughter rippled through the class.
I pushed herself up, dizzy but furious.
"What's your problem?" I yelled.
The silver-haired Nephilim tilted his head, studying me like I was an insect. "You bleed too easily," he murmured. "It means you're weak."
He crouched, meeting my eyes. "But you're beautiful," he added, almost thoughtfully, raising my jaw with a finger and inspecting my face. "Shame beauty fades fast here."
He reached out not to help me, but to wipe my blood with his thumb. Then, with deliberate slowness, he smeared it across my cheek like war paint.
"Now you look like the rest of us."
Something inside me snapped. My hand flew up and slapped his away, anger brewing slowly, while I managed the pain in my nose and body "Don't touch me."
Gasps echoed around the room. For a second, silence thickened the air, like I'd crossed the worst line in history. Then his smirk returned, crueler this time.
He seized my wrist, twisting it just enough to make her wince. "You've got spirit," he said, leaning close. "Let's see how long it lasts."
Before I could react, he shoved my back again, not hard enough to break anything, but enough to prove a point. The class roared with laughter.
High above them, on a raised throne carved from molten glass, Viridis, the ruler of the realm, watched. Her eyes glimmered with cold amusement.
"That's enough," she said, her voice like silk sliding over knives. "Let the poor girl breathe."
Oh well, that came too late, I thought.
The silver-haired Nephilim stepped back but didn't break eye contact. "As you wish, my Lady," he said, mock bowing.
Viridis rose from her throne and descended the stairs slowly. Her beauty was ethereal dangerous, her wings shimmering faintly with a greenish hue. She circled Shaoline like a hawk assessing prey.
"Is this truly the Serath's chosen one?" Viridis asked, tilting my chin with one sharp nail. "You bleed, you tremble, you smell of fear. Perhaps the Ancients made a mistake."
I swallowed the lump in her throat. "I don't make mistakes," I whispered.
Viridis's lips curved into a mocking smile. "We'll see." She turned to the others. "Ten thousand years, and not one of you has impressed me. Maybe she'll die faster. Maybe she won't."
Laughter rippled again through the hall. The silver-haired Nephilim's gaze burned into her.
As Viridis returned to her throne, the air buzzed with whispers. I stood in the center of the room almost helpless, my knees weak but her eyes blazing.
I looked at him, the Nephilim who had humiliated me, the one they all feared and in that instant, I made a silent vow as I wiped my face.
You'll regret ever touching me.
I didn't know how or when, but I knew I would rise. Stronger. Deadlier. I'd use him as my first example.
Because in this realm, survival wasn't about power.
It was about vengeance, it was about fear and bravery.
And I was learning fast.