Andrey’s eyes snapped open.

Darkness. Endless, suffocating darkness. The air was cold and still, pressing against his skin like a living thing.

Then, pressure.

A hand around his throat. Not human. The fingers were too long, too thick, tipped with claws that dug into his skin just enough to draw blood.

He was lifted off the ground, dangling in the void like a puppet on a string.

Andrey’s hands shot up, gripping the wrist of his attacker, trying to relieve the pressure on his windpipe. His feet swung uselessly in the empty air.

Before him, a face emerged from the shadows.

A demon.

His skin was crimson, like old blood, smooth and hairless. Two curved horns sprouted from his forehead, twisting back like a ram’s, spiraling into sharp points. His eyes burned gold, vertical pupils slit like a reptile’s, and they glowed with ancient, predatory amusement. He was tall and his body was lean but corded with muscle, wrapped in tattered black cloth that barely covered his frame.

"Weak human," the demon’s voice was deep, resonant, like stones grinding together in the dark. "You carry something that belongs to us."

Andrey’s internal thought: ’The artifacts. He can sense them.’

He forced his voice steady, despite the clawed hand constricting his throat. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

The demon’s grip tightened. Andrey gasped, his vision swimming.

"Don’t lie to me, human. I can smell the artifacts on you. You’ve been collecting our master’s sacred relics." His golden eyes narrowed. "Give them to me. Now."

Andrey’s hands clawed at the demon’s wrist, his regeneration skill working overtime to heal the damage to his throat, but the pressure was too much. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe.

’This is an A-rank demon,’ he thought, his mind racing despite the pain. ’No—maybe higher. I can’t fight this. I can’t even move.’

The demon tilted his head, watching Andrey’s face with detached curiosity. "I can feel you thinking, human. Scheming. Wondering how to escape." He squeezed harder. "You won’t. Not from me."

Andrey’s internal thoughts grew desperate. ’I have to get out of here—’

The demon leaned closer, his golden eyes filling Andrey’s fading vision. "The artifacts. Where are they?"

Andrey couldn’t answer. His throat was crushed, his windpipe closed. Black spots danced at the edges of his sight.

Then—

A sound like reality being torn apart.

Light flooded the void.

Andrey saw it—a rift, tearing open behind the demon, its edges crackling with purple energy. Through the gap, he glimpsed the ruined street, the shattered restaurant, the bodies of faceless monsters dissolving on the asphalt.

And Hope.

She burst through the rift, her greatsword blazing with golden light, her armor scorched and dented but her eyes blazing with fury. Behind her, a horde of faceless monsters poured through the opening but they weren’t attacking her. They were holding the rift open, their bodies straining, their eyeless faces turned toward their master.

The demon’s grip loosened for just a moment.

Hope didn’t hesitate. Her greatsword swung in a wide arc, golden light trailing behind it like a comet’s tail. The blade connected with the demon’s arm.

He released Andrey.

Andrey crumpled to the ground, gasping, his hands flying to his throat. His regeneration kicked in, knitting the damaged tissue, but every breath was agony.

Hope landed between him and the demon, her greatsword raised, her body a shield.

"Get away from him," she snarled, her voice distorted by her winged helm.

The demon flexed his arm, examining the shallow cut Hope had left. Golden ichor seeped from the wound, and he pressed a clawed finger to it, smearing the blood across his skin.

"Interesting," he murmured, his golden eyes fixed on Hope. "A Valkyrie. I haven’t fought one of your kind in centuries."

Hope didn’t respond. She shifted her stance, her greatsword humming with power.

The demon’s lips curled into a smile—sharp, predatory, and utterly cold. "You want to play? Fine."

He raised his hand.

The void rippled. The darkness twisted, churned, and reformed. The cold was replaced by scorching heat. The ground beneath Andrey’s feet solidified into jagged volcanic rock, glowing with veins of molten lava. Around them, towering cliffs of black obsidian rose, dripping with heat. The sky above was a churning mass of smoke and ash, lit from below by the orange glow of a distant magma river.

Andrey pushed himself to his knees, coughing. The air was thick, sulfurous, burning his lungs.

Hope stood at the edge of the cliff they had been deposited on, her greatsword still raised, her golden armor reflecting the hellish glow.

The demon stood across from them, arms spread wide as if embracing the destruction.

"Welcome to my domain," he said, his voice echoing off the cliffs. "Let’s see how long you last."

Hope lunged.

Her greatsword swung toward the demon’s head. He sidestepped, effortlessly, and vanished into the shadows cast by the lava’s glow.

Andrey scrambled to his feet, his hand going to his katana. "Hope—where did he—"

"Behind you!"

Andrey spun, katana flashing, but the blade cut through empty air.

The demon was already elsewhere. He stood on a higher ledge, looking down at them with cold amusement.

"Slow," he observed. "Pathetic."

Hope’s jaw tightened behind her helm. She leaped, her greatsword carving an arc of golden light toward the ledge.

The demon didn’t block. He simply stepped backward and disappeared into a swirl of shadows.

Hope landed on the empty ledge, her sword biting into the rock. She looked around, her eyes scanning the cliffs, the shadows, the river of lava below.

"He’s gone," she said, her voice tight with frustration.

Andrey climbed up to join her, his breathing still ragged. "He was toying with us."

Hope deactivated her helm, letting it retract into her armor. Her face was pale, streaked with sweat and soot. Her blue eyes were wide with a mixture of fear and relief.

"No," she said quietly. "He was afraid of me, that’s why he backed off."

Andrey looked out at the burning landscape, the empty cliffs, the swirling smoke.

"He’ll be back," Andrey said. "We need to be ready."

Hope nodded, gripping her greatsword tighter.