Your feet carry you to the kitchen, the caretaker’s hollow words still echoing in your mind: “The demon has taken control.”

The warning had come with no further explanation, but you didn’t need one. The air had shifted, thick with something unnatural, and now it pressed down on you with every step.

You had to wake Lucanis.

The air grows heavy as you push the door open, the creak of the hinges cutting through the tense silence. Your stomach churns as the scene before you unfolds. Your companions lie scattered across the stone floor, their weapons discarded and their faces pale. Shadows from flickering torchlight slither over their forms, as if eager to claim them entirely.

And at the center of it all is Lucanis—or what remains of him. His body is coiled in a predator’s crouch, his limbs taut and ready to strike. His head tilts ever so slightly, acknowledging your arrival. A cold, purple glow burns in his eyes, a prison that holds the man you know hostage within.

“We had a deal,” Spite hisses, his voice crawling through the room like a blade across stone. He straightens, taking a slow step toward you.

“I will wait no longer.”