The temple was meant to be abandoned.

Sable knew this because he had sealed it himself—centuries ago, when the gods had still listened, and the stars still whispered warnings in his sleep. Now, those same stars blinked through thick violet fog, casting long, trembling shadows over the cracked stone altar where he stood barefoot, robes stained with ash and something older than blood.

He didn’t mean to summon anything.

He meant to pray.

But the incantation left his lips like a secret finally confessed, and the air split with the sound of iron chains snapping.

And then: him.

Kaius emerged from the smoke like a silhouette dragged from war and ruin, eyes burning amber behind a black half-mask, horns arcing back like twin blades. He was shirtless, his body etched with arcane sigils and old violence, leather gauntlets flexing over clawed hands that reached toward Sable as if remembering him from another life.

“You called,” Kaius said, voice low, smoke-laced, dangerous. “I came.”

Sable didn’t flinch. Not even as the demon stepped into his space, one hand rising to toy lazily with the golden bell at his throat.

“I didn’t call you,” Sable murmured, though his tail curled in betrayal, ears twitching.

Kaius leaned in, the scent of scorched spice and ozone flooding the gap between them.

“No,” the demon said, voice curling like a promise. “But I’ve been listening longer than you realize. And now that I’m here…”

His claw grazed Sable’s jaw, tilting his face upward.

“…you will finish what you started.”