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[I]Chimeric Lord of Chaos[/I][/center]
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[center][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GL1hM1HeJPM]Theme I[/url]\|/[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pG6Ijko_nzY&list=WLCC033E4A99581CB2]Theme II[/url][/center]

Far from silence were the borders of the Western Realm. Damaged by war, bloodied by the magic and weapons of many a demon, but defended successfully against yet another assault.

Still, despite their success there had been death and loss.

But chaos had been wrought, and to the lord of the Western realm, chaos was power.
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Living walls shuddered as a presence swiftly passed through corridors between them. The citadel was alive with activity, though in the vicinity of the presence, everything scurried to other tasks, hiding from the shadow of their master. However, mistakes were made, no one was perfect.

So an imp stumbled from one of the many chambers and could not catch itself fast enough. Its body was briefly enveloped by an ethereal black mist, but the mist moved on seemingly without even noticing the demon that had passed through it. Nonetheless the imp laid still on the floor of the Citadel, time feeling as if it had stopped, as the young demon waited, too paralyzed by terror to think or make any sort of decision. Finally, after an eternally long six seconds passed, the imp rose to its feet, standing at a mere 3 feet including its horns, and skittered to the next opening in the wall in an attempt to return to its work.

To no avail, as the opening sealed before it, causing the creature to bonk its horns into the wall and fall on its face. When it rose it knew it wasn't alone, despite the fact that it felt no presence about it and could see, nor hear, nor smell the essence signature that ought to be apparent in its vicinity.

[I]'I can taste your fear, imp.'[/I] The voice hissed in the demon's head causing it to freeze in place. “Please, no...I meant no offense,” the high shrill voice of the cowering imp called out to empty space. [I]'Watch your step, child, or you'll find yourself in the Wildlands before you know it,'[/I] the smooth voice would hiss once more before the imp's mind again went silent, leaving him alone in the murky light of the Citadel.

The imp sighed with relief, glanced around a bit more, listened to its thoughts, and then tore its own throat out. Blood pooled beneath it and the Citadel's walls closed in around it, forming teeth, and devouring it whole. It had ered.

Nothing was perfect, but only so many mistakes could be permitted. Stupidity was not one of these and neither was gullibility.

[B]“Pestilence, the lot of them,”[/B] the same smooth deep voice stated from within the throne room of the Western Citadel. Sighing to himself, the lord glanced at another of the walls of the throne room, observing some of the goings on of his realm and checking the progress of various other projects simultaneously, his form shadowy so as to facilitate many senses and activities at once, rather than just one at a time.

As he worked, without form, but with many a purpose, Szayeis' considered how long it had been since his last [I]excursion[/I] to the surface. It annoyed him that his recovery had taken so long and that other matters had decided to bring themselves into being to stop him from his usual activities. Of course, now he finally had a chance to go, just as soon as the Aide reported to him.

[I]“The Demonic Rift has been opened milord.”[/I]

[B]“Right on time,”[/B] Szayeis' shadows snapped into a humanoid visage and walked past the Aide, a smile etched across his features. [B]“Your orders are the same as always,”[/B] the lord stated simply, a small amount of glee leaking into his voice even as he gave orders to the Nameless Aide who served him.

The Aide simply nodded its head, turned, and vanished as it walked down another hall. Szayeis however, exited his throne room and walked through a hall which led him quickly to a large undecorated room. Or rather, it would have been undecorated if not for the sigils, blood, and various assortment of body parts that were smeared, placed, and transcribed upon all of its surfaces. [B]“You have done quite well brothers,”[/B] the words drifted from his mouth as he looked at the stable demonic rift that tore the space in the center of the room. Plumes, wisps, and sparks of multicolored essence bled from the false gateway making it feel as if the room was stretched to its limit. It brought a certain sickness into the air...but unfortunately for surface, this lord reveled in it. [B]“Wondrous, now I can [I]finally[/I] have some fun,”[/B] glancing to the nightwalkers who had created the rift he smiled darkly, one edge of his lips raised slightly more than the other. [B]“Call the others and begin preparations for the next ten,”[/B] in shock the nightwalkers recoiled slightly, their forms expanding slightly before contracting and reforming as they had been before. Following these each nodded and departed the room leaving their lord to his own devices.

Rather than immediately enter the tear, he admired its handiwork, glancing over the sigils, surveying the quality of the sacrifices, and noting the essence composition of the blood that had been used. This all took around three minutes and upon finishing this, Szayies spun on his heel and smiled at a certain girl he had [I]felt[/I] entire his domain a few minutes prior, along with her beastly companion of course. [B]“Why hello there,”[/B] the lord said, his smile remaining, though his eyes glistened with amusement at the sight of the young woman.

[B]“I had not been expecting a visit from you today...Aeris, but you are welcomed nonetheless. However, I do have a question for you, my dear: would you like to acompany me to Earth?”[/B] His tone was almost gentlemanly as he looked upon the changed girl. He thought that hell had done well for her appearance, not that he had much interest in [I]children[/I].