The morning in the Abyss had no sunlight, only the dim, molten glow of lava rivers running beneath the obsidian floor.
Rows of Nephilim girls stood in the training hall, the air thick with smoke, tension, and the faint hum of magic.
Their wings shimmered faintly under the low red light.
I stood among them, my eyes steady, though my mind was anything but calm.
Today marked the beginning of the second test, Psychological Warfare and Influence, the art of turning one's enemy into a servant of their will.
Demons lined the upper galleries, watching with glowing eyes. It wasn't Viridis this time, for Viridis was the demon of beauty.
A tall instructor descended the staircase, her boots clicking rhythmically.
She wasn't just any demon, she was Vorlith, the Abyss's mistress of manipulation. Her beauty was sharp as her cruelty, her presence suffocating.
"Nephilims," she began, her voice like silk laced with venom, "you were created to charm, to deceive, to conquer minds before you conquer bodies. Before you can fight with strength, you must fight with thought."
She stopped directly before me, studying me in silence.
"You," she said finally, her black lips curving.
"You look like a fragile petal. Tell me, what will you do when your enemy stands before you, someone stronger, crueler, determined to break you?"
I hesitated. "I'd… read them. Find what they fear most. Use that."
A murmur rippled through the room. Vorlith smiled faintly. "A clever answer. But fear alone is a blunt weapon. To control others, you must learn how to seduce the mind, not just terrify it."
She snapped her fingers, and a shimmering mirror appeared in the center of the hall. It showed reflections of the Nephilims, not as they were, but as they appeared to those around them.
"Lesson one," Vorlith said. "Your image is your first weapon. Learn to manipulate what others see when they look at you. Close your eyes."
I obeyed. I felt the energy of the Abyss shift. The air pressed against my skin like heavy velvet and whispers crept into my ears, my own insecurities echoing back at me.
Too weak.
Too soft.
Too late.
My heart raced.
Vorlith's voice floated through the darkness:
"Now turn those thoughts against your reflection. Believe what you want them to see, not what you fear they will."
I focused. I pictured confidence. Command. The kind of woman who could make demons pause, who could make mortals shiver with awe.
When she opened my eyes, the mirror no longer showed a trembling Nephilim.
It showed a woman with quiet fire in her gaze, someone dangerous in her calm.
Vorlith nodded approvingly. "Better."
Around her, other Nephilims struggled. Some cried; others shouted in frustration as their reflections refused to change.
From the far side of the room, the male Nephilim bully leaned lazily against a pillar, his smirk returning. "So that's your trick, pretty face? Pretend you're strong until someone believes it?"
I ignored him, focusing on my breathing. But his words lingered.
"Lesson two," Vorlith said. "The voice. What you say can enslave a mind or set it free."
She gestured toward two demons standing nearby. "Use your tone to command. One wrong word, and they'll crush you."
The room filled with whispers again as the Nephilims practiced.
Some failed instantly, their voices trembled. A few succeeded, their tones dripping with charm.
When my turn came, I stepped forward.
The demon before me towered twice my height, muscles coiled, eyes molten gold.
"Speak," Vorlith ordered.
My throat tightened. "Kneel."
The demon snarled, taking a threatening step forward. The ground shook under its weight.
I steadied her breath. I remembered Ghormon's words, you're stronger than your fear.
My voice deepened, steady and commanding this time. "I said kneel."
The demon hesitated, its body trembling. Then, slowly, it sank to one knee.
A hush swept through the chamber.
Vorlith smiled again, her fangs glinting. "Interesting."
I felt a rush of adrenaline, but I didn't show it. Around me, the other trainees stared, some with awe, others with envy.
When the session ended, the air hung thick with exhaustion and unspoken rivalry.
Ghormon approached me quietly, carrying a small vial of healing mist. "You did well," she said softly, her tone gentle amid the chaos. "Vorlith doesn't praise anyone lightly."
I smiled faintly. "It's just training. The real test will be worse."
Ghormon's expression softened. "Maybe. But you've already learned something they haven't, how to make even a demon listen."
I turned to her. "You talk like you've done this before."
"I have," Ghormon said, a sad little smile forming. "And it cost me."
Before I could ask, Vorlith's voice echoed across the hall again:
"Tomorrow," she announced, "you will train in seduction and hypnosis, the final stage of mental influence. After that, pairings for combat will begin."
The room erupted in low murmurs. My pulse quickened.
Pairings?
My mind immediately flashed to the bully. His cruel grin. The way he'd shoved me before. The glint in his eyes that wasn't just arrogance, but something darker.
If fate had a sense of humor, I already knew what would happen.
When the crowd dispersed, I lingered. The mirror still hovered faintly in the corner, showing her reflection, but now, behind my image, shadows seemed to stir.
One, familiar, smirking silhouette.
Later, in the dim quarters of the trainee barracks, Ghormon sat beside me as we bandaged the faint burns from the day's training.
"You're thinking too much," Ghormon said.
I looked up. "I'm thinking about what comes next."
Narett gave a small, wry smile. "Then think about this, if they pair you with him, don't fight like him. Fight smarter. You're not made for brutality. You're made for control. We're in the same shoes but I thought about that"
I nodded slowly. "Control," I echoed, staring at my palm where faint symbols from the training glowed.
Control the mind. Control the body. Control the enemy.
Tomorrow would bring a new test, one far more dangerous than the mirror or the voice.
But I'd be ready.
Even if it meant standing beside my worst enemy.