Prologue

Intrigue

“Mi amore, there isn’t a point. Why would we do this? Mi scuzi, I am querying beyond my boundaries, but I simple must know.”

The throne room wasn’t very grand, simply dark granite columns gilding architecture similar to that of the old Terran, the speckled granite tiles smoothing the ground, shining in the simplistic blue flame torches that sat inward of every column. The room didn’t go far past the obsidian double doors, giving the room a bland air. Too simple, for a Lilim. But what Anthea lacked in decoration, she made up in style.

“No-chi, don’t fret, don’t fret, you need not know, need not know, for it isn’t your business to question, to question. No-chi, No-chi, do my bidding and I won’t get mad, no no.” The calm, cool replies echoed around the ambience of the throne room, the throne itself carrying a figure clad in gothic Victorian clothes, but the dim light of blue left it hard to discern.

“Bu- No, scusa, it isn’t my business, si. Forgive me. I’ll do it, but please, if they fight back, it is not my fault the fate that follows.” The armoured figure before the apparent leader looked notably crestfallen. She, however, was visible. A monstrous shield laid upon her back, far too bulky for a human to wield, shaped like a crest, long with a vertical grip, engravings of rose thorns decorating the obsidian plating, held together by a steely material shining like a blue moon.

The woman turns slowly, the loud click-thump of armoured heels on stone echoing. While the smooth, pale skin of her face grew visible, her eyes were dark, centred with a sky blue glow. It was almost intimidating how she walked and strode. She was probably a knight.

The throne room locked, the great double doors magically sealed at the seam. The knight turned, heading down the other direction, the crestfallen image she once held now void and replaced with the air of

importance she must usually have. The palace was silent, stagnant with unmoving wind, the sharp taps on stone breaking the silence, but the shroud of lonesomeness failed to shatter. What kind of palace had no guards, no kind of palace had no defence, no workers, no servants, no nobles chattering away with politics and such. But this palace wasn’t. It was a terrifying place, almost, so looming with a roof untouchable even by giants, distant chandelier will-o-wisps flying above gave a pale hue, but the mirroring of shiny stone lighting the place naturally with a dark blue. The Sapphire Palace truly was amazing.

She ran. Her leggings made no noise on the cold floor, which was comforting. She knew there were no guards here, so she wasn’t worried about being caught. What she was worried about, is getting out. The hallways seemed endless rooms identical and doors locked. The lack of direction was jarring.

“Where do I…” she mumbled, now completely lost, in the middle of an intersection. One path lead to what looked like a kitchen, one to a stairway down, and the other seemed to go on forever. She hesitated.

Did someone work in the kitchen? But there were no noises from there. Did the demons even eat? Gosh, it was all so absurd. This palace was enthralling to her.

Shaking the intrigue in her mind, she turned down the endless path. Or, so she thought she would.

Suddenly, without the slightest sound, she was snatched, a powerful, cold metal grip on her shoulder, holding her still. An aura radiated from whoever had found her, bringing the small girl to turn around, eyes widening at the sight of what she found. The knight in the Throne Room, stared down at her, towering an easy 2 feet above her, no weapons in sight. A small squeak escaped her mouth. Doom, was surely imminent.

But the woman didn’t seem hostile at all.

“Are you lost, mi amore?” She asked in a placid tone, her voice surprisingly feminine, “You have been stumbling about for a halfhour.”

Completely shocked by this woman’s tones, the tones of a woman she was supposed to fear, the tones of a woman who was her enemy, the young girl remained silent.

The knight released her shoulder and stood straight, adding another few inches to the gap between them. “I shall take that as a yes. Mi amore, you must be careful in this Palace. I shouldn’t help intruders, much less ones of a hostile force, but I care for your safety. Mi scuzi, I will send you out now.”

Those words seemed final, and the girl didn’t even get to speak for the moment she met Noemi, the Thousand Stand Warrior. With a close of the knight’s eyes, and the glow of the dim granite below them, casting a harsh purple eclipse around the intruder, and the whispering of ‘Farewell’, the young girl was stung with a harsh pain to her gut. She spun through space like the whirring of a cog, and struggled to adjust to the harsh sunlight of the outside world, the haze encasing modern civilization straining against her breath. Sighing, she stood, her matted hair draping the young mug of hers. She forgot what she set out to do. So she stood up, patted off her jeans and jacket, and begun to step off back towards the forest.

What a terrible morning.

1

Fratricide

Charlotte was simple, she thought.

But an ideology of simple was but an ideal in itself, deception of what is normal was common in the city of Ices.

Ices, was enormous. The entirety of the city was hardly a city, more of a continent on its own. Roughly a quarter of the planet is made up of Ices. Many simply call it the ‘East’. Deep within it, in the centre of it’s metropolis, was the Sapphire Palace, the ruling throne of Anthea, the Lilim of Corruption. She started the industrial revolution of Ices, leading it single handed from a small capital city of a country, to a city state, to an entire country, to the entire continent, factories assembled, enormous barracks constructed, workshops scattered amongst tall housing facilities and large single owned homes. Entrances underground were opened, where the copious amounts of metals are harvested, the enormous city even reaching underground, and into the sky, propulsion systems and sky bridges keeping afloat the palaces of royalty, where nobles lived. The underground was referred to as the Depths. It was a slum, simply put, a dirty one, some streets drenched in sewage and faeces, oil leaks dripping from above. It was noisy and dark, gangs of street rat boys lead by demons ransacked poor stores and stole, and committing petty thievery and assault, but no law enforcement existed down there. It was sad, really. Most of the buildings were run down and abandoned, inhabited by runaways and small gangs. Alleyways dipped between complexes and paths down into the mines were common, enormous furnaces beneath the colossal factories of the above ground a sight to see, smelting endless streams of steel, gold, bronze, and silver.

But, this was home.

The Depths was the only home Charlotte knew. She had lived there for as long as she could remember, a master of the paths through it, the places, the landmarks.

The road to the nearest entrance from the Palace was quite long. An hour of walking, a few twists and turns through the metropolis of steel, when she came across the entrance she knew. It was not large, tucked between two large factory complexes. The metal stairway down below was long, indeed, guarded by a petty fence that was rusted so much that Charlotte could snap off chunks of it for emergency defence. The building was dank, metal walls rusted completely, but this was fine. The stairway wasn’t even lit. But the stamina of a street rat could not be equalled. She carefully measured each small hop down the stairs, her oversized buckle boots clanking with every step, her jeans tucked into them. Buckles were left undone, clacking against eachother with every step. While Charlotte couldn’t see worth anything in this dark area, she had travelled it countless times and knew exactly how far down it was, how long it took, and how many steps she had to take.

Cling, cling, cling cling… the repetition was almost eerie with the echoes, but it was all too hospitable for her mind. It only took about 20 minutes, record time for her, reaching the final step with a soft ‘Fwoo.’ She looked around, the darkness of the Depths far more homely than the harsh sun of the above life. It smelled of piss and sweat, dank and moist all around, drops of condensation forming on the distant roof and dripping down. Tiny, meaningful droplets of a purer liquid. The long, wide streets stretched on forever, etching a maze into stone, buildings dug into the walls of stone, no pathing or vehicles to be seen, just disgusting dirt roads littered with trash, mechanical parts, mushrooms and bones, flanked by boarded up houses, the occasional house with a dim firelight visible from within, loud banter and arguing of the gang within echoing. Charlotte began to trudge down North, her boots sinking into the wet dirt, squelching beneath her, but her brisk pace made it all bearable. She was respected, surprisingly. After all,

she was a female demon in a slum ruled by young men. A woman demon was the height of Ices society, most nobles were female women, after all. On the other side of the spectrum, female humans were scowled upon. Considered cheap and undesirable, providing little genetic benefit, and generally shrugged off by the demon kind, had left them the undesirables of Ices, and even the rest of the world. It was cruel, indeed.

However, not many knew the girl was a demon. Her horns were tiny, red stubs shrouded by her hair, her wings sprouting from her waist, clung to her back beneath her jacket, and her tail tucked inside her jeans. But she had the features of one. A soft, smooth face, girly eyelashes and an all-around appealing scheme. However, her skin was dirty, her lips cracked, and her clothes stained and smelly. To the eye, she was nothing more than a rat in a slum, like the rest of the rodents of man and demon kind.

Her thoughts wandered, but in the end, she arrived, at an indistinguishable house from the rest, boarded up windows shrouding the happenings inside. Charlotte slipped into the house through a side hatch, and inside, she was met with the hushed banter of her ‘family.’

They were a shabby bunch.

All 4 of them were lanky and skinny, but they shared the same bulk. Muscly for their thinned bodies, strong and quick, values favoured in the slums. The oldest of them was Jerard. He was the shortest, only standing around 5’6”, but he made up for it in aggression. He was a feisty dog, a scraggly beard barring his chin and a choppy moustache on his lip, his hair long and matted like Charlotte’s. He had a killer smile, chops full of sharp, yellow teeth, stained with dried meat and blood. He sat next to the furnace in the middle of the tiny house, to the left of it. To the left of him, was a few cloths and some mishappen blankets, which the four of them used as beds. To the right of the furnace was a metal slab stuck to it, hot from the boiling of it. Sitting on top, roasting, were five small rat steaks. It was all they could eat, and cooking them out on the furnace was the best way to keep the germs from festering. But the immune systems of those who lived down

there were strong enough to keep safe off a diet of diseased meat and mushrooms.

Beside the cooking slab, sat another man named Ral. He was taller, but only by two inches, but he was much younger, his messy stubble cleaner, and his hair perfectly shaven. He had cuts and bruises all over him, but he never cared. The scars showed his worth down here. His skin was olive, and he had an odd accent, and harsh, brown eyes. His left arm was twisted and charred from a run in with one of the Corrupted. They say he killed it with nothing but a rusty old shovel, and took its eyeball as a prize. He sold the eye for the weapon he has now, a very ordinary looking sword, but it was special. It was forged of blue steel, a type of metal that cleaved through demons as easily as butter, but human skin seemed to treat it like blunt force, taking effort to tear. It was a strange, magical metal, and the shortsword served Ral well.

Sat a little to the middle of the room was another, more recognizable face. Charlotte’s father, a grouchy man with a haughty scowl glue to his mug, his own beard growing out, and his hair drenched with sweat, oily and the strands sticking together. While the other two wore raggedy shorts and nothing else, he wore a black apron over pants and a tattered top. He looked up to his daughter, biting his tongue.

“Oi! Wh’rve you been, whore?” He snapped, his tone angry and disgusted. He hated Charlotte passionately.

But, she was used to this treatment. “Spying, papa.” Came her soft response. The other two men looked at eachother, and Jerard flashed her father a scowl.

“Geoff, calm the fuck down, ye’ ole’ dog. I’ll shtick ya’ if you don’t ‘eave ‘er be. She ain’t do nuffin’ ‘rong.” Jerard growled, his voice as gruff as his look, “Ye’ ain’t needin’ t’ be callin’ ‘er a whore n’ sumshit. She ain’t dun nuffin’ ‘rong.”

Geoff turned to look at him, annoyed evidently. “Shuddup, you sod. She’s a filthy demon bitch, I ain’t want nothin’ t’do with her.”

“She ain’t done nuffin’ rong, Geoff. She’s helpin’ us.” Jerard continued to argue, but even Gal saw the futility of it, giving Jerard a look to tell him to back off. And so, Jerard gave Charlotte an apologetic frown, which was returned with a sigh from the girl. Geoff turned his attention back to her. “Listen here, y’little bastard. Get outta my sight! If I see you again, inna next 5 hours, I’ll gut ye’ and you’re fucking friends!”

Charlotte new it was best not to argue, resist, or even rebel, so she turned tail and left. Gal stood, snatching two slabs of rat steak and followed. Geoff watched him go with a gruff growl. Jerard didn’t seem keen on moving, so he shuffled off to the side, away from the furnace’s head, and rested against one of the blankets. “Gee, Geoff. Y’aughta calm down.”

The father sighed, looking down. “You know what I gots ta do. She’ll be of that age ‘ventually, seems like. She’s already showin’ the signs, you know? She’s getting’ independent. I don’t want that. I payed good money for that trump card.”

“May’e that’s why she rebelin’? She don’ like bein’ a trump card.” Came Jerard’s belated response, after heaving a sigh, “Two pince ain’t too much… but it’s more ‘han we get a fortnigh’.”

“Whatever. It ain’t my problem, Jerard. She a stupid demon and she gon’ try and fool as all, jus’ you watch, they all do!”

Jerard nodded his acceptance. “Demons are foul, bu’ she ain’t that bad… better than the slut ye’ got ‘er from.”

Geoff chuckled his agreement, letting his mind wander to the woman that birthed Charlotte. “She was nothin’ but a skank. A shit one, too. Cunny as loose as a god damn shoelace.”

Jerard laughed a long, hearty, wheezing laugh, and the both of them shared the last few bits of steak. Charlotte, however, wasn’t far outside, listening in through the hatch, Gal beside her. The man gave her a smile. “Look, Letty, don’t let ‘em get to ya’. I don’t much care for demons nor humans, to be frank. I wound up in this place willin’ly, back as a miner.

You’re a sweetheart, y’hear?” He said calmly, his gaunt face much more gentle than the other two.

She looked up at him, her green eyes sparkly. “So… you’re saying I mean something? To you, at least.” She asked. Unlike the rest, her tone was ordinary. Nothing accented or anything. Gal’s accent, however, was relatively strange. His A’s were long, and he didn’t pronounce T’s and R’s much.

“’Course. You’re a friend, an’ that’s all I really care about. Y’er dad’s a prick, e’ryone’s a prick.” Gal’s voice cracked just a bit, and he rubbed his forehead, “So… besides that, fill me in here. Who’d ya’ spy on?”

Charlotte crossed her arms and crossed her legs, leaning up against the cold stone and metal walls. “The Demon Queen, and her knight.” She replied, trying to be as quiet as possible.

Shock filled Gal’s eyes, and he stared down at Charlotte, jaw agape. “You spied on the Queen!? How’d you manage that without getting’ caught!?”

“Living down here all you’re life’s good for the feet, y’know. I was… uh, pretty quiet. And small. Not much aura.” She lied, lifting her chin to stare at the ceiling.

The lie wasn’t difficult to muscle out, but it bothered her some. She couldn’t really tell them about a demon’s kindness, could she? That seemed horribly out of place in an anti-demon society. Right… she had to lie, and keep them in the dark about her run-in with Noemi.

“Yep, that’s about it. But I wanted to tell papa that they already know. They know about the attack, and that knight girl is bein’ sent to stop it.” She continued, and Gal’s eyebrows furrowed in worry.

“I thought so… there’s nothin’ that the Queen don’t know, s’why I’m shocked you snuck in and out without detection. Whaddabout guards?”

“None at all… the hallways were completely empty. It was all silent, too.”

“Dang… shocker.” He vaulted from the wall and walked to the hatch, leaning down to pry it open, his voice a whisper. “Listen, Letty, you get outta here. Go… I dunno, talk to the others, I gotta talk to your pa. Aight? Later.” He said, shortly before vanishing back inside, leaving Charlotte back to her lonesome.

She pulled down the hood of her jacket, revealing her messy, dirty red hair, combing a finger through the root to tip to feel the bony stubs growing. She was a rare natural redhead. Something even more distinct. With annoyance, she pushed off the wall and hurried off, cursing out her father beneath her breath.

These were her family, these people that hated her guts. But Gal was a true father to her. He cared.

But little did she know of the true nature in the Depths. The fratricide, the homicide.

Chapter 2

Whispers

Geoff and Jerard seemed about to leave for somewhere, so Gal gave Charlotte a brisk pat on the head, his thumb gently pressing against the tiny nubs of her horns, flashing one of his chipped-tooth smiles and hurrying off, sword kept to his side. Charlotte got the message, and skittered off as deftly as she could.

It was lonely now, but it’s not like she was a foreigner to the lonesomeness of the Depths. Sometimes, the gangs ran, hid, and stayed shrouded. And this sector of the Depths was no stranger to this practice. The hallow clicking of buckles against buckles echoed in the open caverns as she walked along the stone outcroppings beside the houses, keeping clear of where she was. By now, she counted, she wasn’t in the Old Sector where she lived. This was the Mining Sector. Sinkholes were common here, because beneath her was where the mines expanded. Some shafts collapsed and the dirty mud and trash of the surface, moist and wet, formed these immense pits of slushy, feces, bug and parasite infested quicksand that never let go. But Charlotte was careful here. It had rained earlier above, so the moisture from the roof made the sinkholes obvious, forming these incredibly mucky pools of water above them. The demon girl gave them little care. She’d been through here often enough.

Where she was going, was a mystery. But wherever she was going, she seemed determined, her eyes set on her mark, on the stone cliffs overlooking the sinkholes. Numerous side roads split off and some manmade bridges of stone floated on wooden platform for crossing the sinkholes created. Some of them were proper, raised wooden stakes that probably were ingrained deep within the sinkhole, creating metal rail tracks for the drug trams. She was getting near to it, the Rich Sector.

Charlotte hopped across a rail bridge, to the opposite side of the road, dipping between two houses, and peeked out from the side, staring down the rest of the path for trouble.

Sure enough, two figures were guarding the path into the Rich Sector that she always took. One, she knew was a rare demon, quite known around the place. They were commonplace down here, her kind, but that didn’t make her any less terrifying.

Her name was Candice, or so she said. Demons never used their real names when they were powerful, because demonic names have power. Charlotte knew this but it never worried her, so she used her birth name freely. Candice, however, was careful. But she, was a cat girl.

Seems cute, in theory, but a real cat girl was no sight to be jealous of. Their legs, rather than being of feminine shape, were instead like the hind legs of a cat, furry, muscular and agile, clawed, and padded, hips wide, with a long, balancing tail jutting out from above the furry rear. Candice’s fur was blood red, with black tips, her tail scarred and nearly hairless, scars in her fur weaving pale white bald patches like a painting. Her stomach was slightly visible beneath her ragged jacket, muscular, with rippling abdominal muscles, and a thin waist. Her upper body was also bulky like her hips, with a furry chest void of any kind of feminine charm Charlotte was accustomed to seeing. Instead, was a patch of thin fur, merging with the skin of her stomach and her neck. From her shoulders down, she had semi human limbs with human hands, the fingers slightly thicker and clawed. Candice wore fingerless, metal studded gloves, and had a huge scar down her right arm, two runes brightly tattoo’d into it. One, Charlotte actually knew. Movement. One of the most powerful runes in existence. The other, she had no idea. As for Candice’s face, it was humanoid, with large, fluffy cat ears atop her head, one of them cut through the middle and usually bent down, the other upright and acute. She had one directional hearing, unfortunately, so she wasn’t as good as other nekomata at fighting, but she was swift, her bright, golden slitted eyes quick, deft and beady. Worst of all, was her hair. Tied

into a ponytail, it was a flashy bright red, the roots clearly black. She looked honestly terrifying to Charlotte, because this girl alone was the reason her mother died.

Candice was called the Yell-Beast for her booming voice. The other figure, Charlotte also knew. A scrawny man named Riordan, but he was a frail man only recognizable for his above average aim when using a throwing knife. They looked like they were guarding something. The Rich Sector, obviously.

But, Charlotte knew. Candice was the right hand woman to the most powerful woman of the Depths. Candice did the dirty work, and that woman did the conducting. They conducted the Depths like one big, ugly orchestra.

The real meat of the Depths wasn’t just the few demons that ruled gangs. It wasn’t the expanse of mining shafts down below. No, instead, what truly ruled the underworld was Aria.

Everyone knew that name. It was more widely known than the Demon Queen’s name. But even then, it wasn’t really a name. It’s a brand. Even worse, is that this brand rules the Depths.

Charlotte had never met Aria. But what she did know, was Aria’s gang, the Gold Blood. The richest the Depths had to offer, the Gold Blood ruled over the railway lines, and every mode of transport in this dank place, having total monopoly over it. They laid residence in the larger, rich districts of the Depths, but rich certainly wasn’t saying much. Broken signs, run down clubs, but they were clubs all the same. Some were even decently kept, but one, was known as a real mercenary lair.

Lopsided Vampire was not a joke. The bar slash inn slash dance club, was terrifying. It was easily the most well-kept place in the Depths by a mile. The place was dark, lit by multi-colored flame torches and decorated with numerous stuffed monster heads, paintings, and a pole stage in the corner for the higher class succubi down here to tease the tenants. But the bar itself wasn’t scary. The residents were. The demons and humans that

flocked there were utterly terrifying. The worst of the worst. Super criminals escaping the above to live it easy in the Depths, drug lords, all of the above, horrible people in general.

But that was the business. They made a lot of money working as paid thugs, and the drug trades kept weaker society in check. Corinthian Resin, satchels of Succubus Blood bottles, and numerous other incredibly addictive, dangerous narcotics and drugs floated across the market down here. Incubi and Succubi were tortured, killed, and wrung out to bottle their blood as a drug. Corinthian Netherwoods were grown and harvested for their narcotic sap, which was boiled and hardened into resin candies. Drug wars between gangs were rampant. But the Gold Blood reigned supreme.

And at the head of the pyramid, sat Aria Merdina, the CEO of the Merdina Rail Network, which covered Ices as well as the depths with railroads, also dominated by Gold Blood members. No one scared Charlotte more than Aria Merdina.

Charlotte knew she was biting off more than she could chew, but a girl had to sate her curiosity. So, swiftly, she dipped out of the alley and slid into a large gap in the house next to her. Carefully, she took off her boots, buckled them, and clutched them in her right arm, and slowly began to get closer and closer, sliding through broken down houses with collapsed walls and cracks in the stone, until she got close enough to evesdrop.

“So, what did she say, Rio-“ crumble, crumble. Charlotte stopped dead in her tracks, cursing herself silently. She’d stood on a loose bit of stone and knocked it from the wall, sending it skittering out of the alley. In a flash, Charlotte screamed, pinned to a wall, knife sharp claws digging into her gut and her neck. Panic crossed the demon’s eyes when she saw what had her pinned. Two large, muscular arms, furred and scarred, and breathing horrible, musky breath down Charlotte’s was Candice’s snarling face, two large fangs baring, eyes chaotic and cruel.

“Riordan. C’mere, lookie what I caught. A lil’ girl, sneaking around like a prick. Whad’ya say we bully her around a bit?” Candice’s quiet whisper

ricocheted along the walls to Riordan’s ears, who appeared from around the corner. Candice removed the hand on her preys gut and brought a glistening claw to Charlotte’s mouth, prying it open. “Awww, cat got’cha tongue!?” She cackled, grinning now.

Riordan chuckled, crossing his arms, the knives on his belt as sharpened as Candice’s claws. “Cut her tongue, Candice! Let’s see ‘er blood.”

“That’s barbaric Riordan. Shut up!” She snapped right back, and reached a claw in with her other finger, her thumb keeping the jaw open. Her catlike eyes blinked and she stared in, then smiled, releasing the jaws and allowing them to snap shut.

After a long pause, and Riordan awkwardly shifting around behind Candice, she finally spoke up. “Interesting. You aren’t normal.”

In the tiniest whisper, Charlotte replied a ‘Thanks’ and looked to the side. Candice raised an eyebrow, brushing a lock of her hair up behind her ear. “You’re quite the intriguing specimen.” She released Charlotte, who collapsed, panting, her face a bit red. Candice turned, and started to leave the alley, not before turning a head to Charlotte and snapping once again, “You, follow me. Now.”

Riordan stayed in front of Candice, and Charlotte hurried up behind her, walking briskly to keep up with Candice’s lengthy strides. She considered running, but she knew that it wasn’t an option. The Movement rune made the nekomata one of the fastest beings in existence. She could strike faster than they eye could comprehend, and cause shockwaves in the ground due to how fast the fist flew, dents in steel, rip through skin with ease. Charlotte assumed the second rune was a Strength rune, making Candice the fastest, strongest thug in the Depths.

Candice begun to lead them down the alleyway they were guarding, and to confirm the redhead’s hunches, on the other side of the tunnel, was a much nicer looking Depths. While still dirty, the roads were paved, with large rail tracks down each road. The streets lined with rough

and tough looking Gold Blood members, their eyes following Candice. Buildings were now lit, decorated and painted. Most were bars and butchers, some refineries, some just houses and inns. But all of them were filled, the dark lighting of torches hanging from magical strings rendering the place rather ominous. Candice stopped Riordan and Charlotte, and a large train chugged right past them, steam billowing from the sides, numerous carts in the back reinforced, some guns even attached and manned, ready to blast. One of the Merdina Heavy Steam Engines. This thing could apparently withstand full on particle blasts. It was fast, too.

As it left view, Candice hurried them off again, leading them deeper into the Rich Sector, powerful demons and well-armed humans chatted on the streets. Some of them carried leather satchels of resin candies, and she saw one of the butchers hanging dried out succubus corpses to sell for who knows what. Their bodies were apparently stuffed with seasoning and various other meats, and are quite a delicacy down here. Charlotte was appaled that the demons would commit to such cannibalism.

While, the place was nicer, she loathed the Rich Sector. In a sense, it was miles more disgusting than any part of the Depths. The horrible stuff that went on here made Charlotte’s gut wrench. But the three trooped onwards, until they finally reached a large, palace like nightclub lit up by magical fires in small glass cases with mirrors inside it, casting rays of multicolored light into the ‘sky’, and on a ginormous, ornate sign, there was a glowing picture of a vampire with its head lopped off, hanging to the side by a spine. The picture seemed so realistic and multi dimensional. In cursive on either side of the vampire, were the words ‘Lopsided Vampire’.

‘Oh no.’ Charlotte thought, glaring up at the sign. This was the real lair. Candice lead the two in, and the smell of sweat and alcohol and the obnoxiously sweet scent of Succubus Blood being boiled in pipes, powdered resin, sniffing narcotics, and an assortment of other disgusting things. This was the heart of the drug cartel. But Candice wasn’t interested in scantily clad demons strippers and prostitutes, or bulky mercenaries and thugs,

instead, she bee-lined into a back room, the thugs watching the dancers parting to make way. After all, Charlotte knew Candice was a very important figure here. But after a mere minute of walking, they came face to face with a pair of double doors down a side hallway. Candice shoved them open, and before them, was an enormous, fancy desk, decorated with numerous bulletins and business papers, chests littered a huge shelf to the side, and on the other a monstrous wardrobe. Two more doors seemed to lead to a bedroom and a bath. Sitting on a throne, facing the desk, Charlotte could see a pair of glorious, 8 inch regal horns curving back and over, shaped and curved like a crown, and from the lovely feet she saw arched over a knee from crossed legs, she knew this was the one and only Aria Merdina.

“Late-Queen, I’ve returned.” Candice spoke up, and the throne swivelled around on a steam powered platform, turning to face them. Sitting atop the velvety cushion it formed, was the most beautiful woman Charlotte had ever seen.

Her lips were perfectly gentle looking and full, a button nose and a face devoid of any blemish, eyes that sparkled with intelligence and power. She had a dark shade of skin, and glowing red eyes, drapes of long, jet black hair, legs better than one of the strippers in the outer lobby, a figure that would cause most woman-minded men to drop dead. From her shoulders, bony protrusions jutted out, forming a sort of smoothed plating, jagged at the top, like pauldrons, with some of the spikes running down her arm, forming from skin, black, yet sleek and shiny. They weren’t too large, yet fit with her whole scheme. Her outfit, too, was like that of a queen. A long, draping robe of red and black. Not to mention, the tinture of her horns and the scales around her wrists, were a lovely crimson red.

This, without a doubt, was a Lilim. Charlotte held back a gasp.

The woman smiled, starting sweet, but one corner of her lips curled farther, a sly, side smirk, as her lips parted, sharp fangs evident. “Well-well-well, what have we here? A lovely little prisoner? Perhaps a new maid? A

new servant? Oh, a prostitute in training…? Oh, no, you wouldn’t bring those to me if they weren’t particular to my interests, Candy. Do explain.”

Candice’s cheeks flushed at being called ‘Candy’. “L-Late-Queen, please do not call me Candy in front of others.”

“Right, right.” The woman replied, waving a hand dismissively. “Speak, hurry, before my interest wanes.”

Candice swallowed, and cleared her throat. “I sensed something important within this girl. A whiff of a scent that is very familiar to you and I. I brought her here so you could see for yourself.” With a deft movement, Charlotte felt the paw to her back push her forward, but not too hard. The girl stumbled and righted herself.

“Oh? Interesting, mm-mm. My first guess is an Heir to Anthea. Dot hit?”

“No. Take a look personally.”

The Lilim nodded, rising from the throne. She was horridly tall… and intimidating. On her cleavage, three runes glowed against the dark skin, seeming to draw attention to it as well. But she didn’t know those runes. The Late-Queen moved forward, studying Charlotte, walking a long circle around her, before leaning in and taking a gentle grasp of her head, looking into her eyes. “She’s far too dirty for me to smell it. My nose isn’t as keen as yours, Candy. However, those eyes are unforgettable.”

Slowly, the Lilim begun to seethe. “Candice, you were wrong to bring her here.”

The nekomata blinked in confusion. “W… what?”

“Oh, come now. Bringing my nemesis’ namesake to me!? The audacity. Whatever!” She flourished a hand, “It doesn’t matter. She’s young, ignorant and innocent. She knows nothing. She won’t know anything. I don’t plan on killing her.”

Charlotte was horribly confused, but either out of patience or sheer terror, she didn’t speak a word.

“I’m sorry, Late-Queen. I didn’t realize your hatred for the Heir was so prominent.” Candice bowed deeply, her fur obviously prickly from fear.

“It’s not a problem, Candy. I’m actually glad you showed her to me… I can keep an eye on her. Many thanks. But… I’m interested, girl. Tell me your name, and why you’re in the Depths.”

Charlotte gulped hard, and begun to speak, her voice light and timid. “My… my name is Charlotte. Charlotte Oblivia. I… I was born into here. Grew up here and all…”

The woman raised an eyebrow. “I’m positive you know me. But thank you.” Her smile widened, into a horrifying grin. “You’ve helped me more than you think. Candice, alert Warfield. It’s time.”

The nekomata bowed once again, and vanished. Riordan disappeared too.

“My darling Charlotte…” She begun, but Charlotte realized something was wrong. That command didn’t seem usual, and one of her runes was glowing. She begun to feel woozy, like she was growing to fear this woman, every word echoing inside her brain and coaxing her, nudging her, whispering into her subconscious. “You know me as Aria Merdina. A lovely name. Remember it well, because you caused this.”

And with that, Charlotte blacked out.

Chapter 3

Dismantle

Charlotte awoke to the creaking sound of double doors, and the soft pads of cat feet on the ground. However, she stayed silent. She had to. It was time to listen, something Charlotte did quite well.

“Late-Queen. Warfield is prepared. Project Undermine is set. Activating is waiting on your command.” Came the voice of Candice, followed by a long sigh.

“I’ve been waiting for this day, Candy. The day for my influence to spread down here, so I can finally put an end to something so despicable. Give me the full report.” Aria said, quietly.

Candice cleared her throat. “Warfield’s proto-mechanics are set. There are 4, all evenly spread across Ices. These small factories will act as hives. The artificial intelligence within them will cause the hasty degradation of Ices. That will initiate the plan. Next, every tunnel up to the surface has been blocked off by Gold Blood initiatives. We have forces waiting in nearby steam trams to take over. The strongest, most decrepit demons of the Depths are waiting to lead the charge. Not even Noemi Abelli will be able to defend for long. After the huge success of the rune thievery, they aren’t afraid to face them. I’ll be leading the charge up this building’s elevator to the Sky District. The highest ranking demons here are a part of my crew. Our target is the Sapphire Palace, and finally, the throne.”

Oh no. Charlotte almost quivered in fear. They were going to invade. They were invading Ices from below! A hostile takeover, a horrible tyranny that might bring the end of days. Charlotte thought about the words Aria spoke to her. ‘You caused this’. It was eerie and uncomfortable, and left a bad feeling in her gut. Everything Aria said left a bad feeling. But she had to remain silent and hear out the rest.

“I see. Excellent. I assume they know nothing?”

Charlotte thought once again, to the Queen’s words. She was sending Noemi somewhere, the knight she looked up to. Maybe… maybe she did know? It wasn’t conclusive, but Charlotte had a hunch that the Queen was more wise than she seemed despite that odd dialect.

“They know nothing, I don’t think. Anthea has made no effort in any defensive tactics judging from our spies. The only slight difference is the disappearance of Noemi Abelli. Where she went, we don’t know, but she isn’t in the Palace.” Candice seemed to pause a moment, “Aria, I’m afraid. What if I die?”

Aria let loose a small, cute giggle. “Candy, I know you. You won’t die. The Sky District are nobles, not warriors. You’ll be fine. I trust you and your capability of using your rune.”

“Will you fight?”

“…” Aria sounded like she frowned. “No… I don’t fight. Not now, not soon. But maybe in the future. But, Candy, don’t be afraid. I’ll be gone in a flash. Remember the rendezvous. Everyone elses lives are disposable. You remember what you must do?”

“Yes, the throne. I know.”

“Good, good… excellent. Oblivia will pay.”

Candice gave a grunt and a small huff.