Silus opened his eyes slowly, the gray mist of the nightmare fading only to be replaced by a red reality. Kael and the disciples lay in the dirt, their life force fading. Standing over them was a man radiating a heavy, crushing pressure, and another stood like a mountain before the castle gates.
"Who...?" Silus's voice was a cracked whisper.
"I am Astaroth, the Celestial Dread," the first man sneered. "The peak of the Demon Lord's army."
The man at the gate slammed his massive shield into the earth. "And I am Bane, the Iron Sentinel. Your journey ends at this wall, little Prince."
Rage, hotter than any sun, ignited in Silus's chest. He drew Death and vanished, a streak of gold aiming for Astaroth's neck. CLANG! Bane appeared instantly, his shield absorbing the blow, and followed with a heavy fist that slammed Silus deep into the cratered earth.
"Stay down," Astaroth commanded, raising his hand. "100x Gravity: Crushing World!"
The air itself became like lead, pinning Silus to the floor. Bane walked over, looking down at the dying disciples. "Don't worry," Bane mocked, his voice a cruel rasp. "They died like dogs, whimpering for a King who couldn't wake up. You'll join them soon... just like your pathetic parents did."
The world went silent.
The gravity didn't lift—Silus simply ignored it. He stood up, the ground beneath his feet shattering from the sheer pressure of his aura. His golden eyes bled into a pitch-black void. He didn't say a word; he didn't need to. He had gone Berserk.
In a blur that defied physics, Silus appeared in front of Bane. The Sentinel roared, raising his "Unbreakable" shield. CRACK! With one bare-handed punch, the shield exploded into a thousand shards. Silus didn't stop. He plunged his hand through Bane's chest, then another into his shoulder, systematically tearing holes through the giant's body. He wasn't just fighting; he was erasing the man, piece by piece, with a terrifying, silent joy.
Silus turned his black gaze toward Astaroth. The "Celestial Dread" felt his own heart stop. He fell to his knees, the gravity he controlled now crushing him instead. "Please! Mercy! I was only following orders!"
Silus didn't offer mercy. He simply pointed a finger. He forced Astaroth's own gravity to invert, turning the General into a singularity. Astaroth screamed until his body imploded, vanishing into a tiny speck of nothingness.
Silus walked toward the great gates. He didn't open them—he walked through them, the massive stone doors disintegrating at his touch. Anyone in the hallways—guards, demons, monsters—was wiped out in an instant as Silus moved like a dark god through the palace.
Finally, he kicked open the doors to the Throne Room.
There, sitting calmly on his throne of bone, was the Demon Lord Augustus. Standing beside him was his last line of defense: Mordred, the Iron Blood-Knight, his red armor steaming with the scent of a thousand wars.
"So," the Demon Lord whispered, "the Ghost of the Void has finally arrived."