The air was thick with a miasma of desperation, a swirling vortex of despair that seemed to cling to every inch of the non-existent walls. In this desolate purgatory, where even sunlight dared not penetrate, seven figures stirred, their forms shifting and coalescing in the gloom. These were the seven Asuras -humans reborn as the manifestation of forbidden sin.
And their foe was a man deeply connected to that sin.
He possessed power comparable to that of a Saint and used it in a way that fully utilized his boundless experience.
They tried everything in their arsenal, from close-range attacks to long-range spam, but nothing seemed to work. The demons began to stress and lose their heads, not just because of their incompetence, but also from the fact that clearly, they were getting in his way.
He was the only one of them capable of confronting this monster and stand as his equal. Their kits were pretty much even, seeing as they had the same abilities, experience and even blood coursing through their veins.
The only real difference was that one fought with a wooden cane while the other preferred a more barbaric approach.
The barbarian, joyous and obnoxious, emitted a chilling rasp that seemed to echo around the infinite prison. " How long are you going to defend Michael, brother? Don’t you realize the Gods are all liars?" His voice barely audible to the other demons over the clashing of their starlites.
"Funny…" Finral rumbled, his voice shaking the very foundations of the prison. "How can you seriously say that when you’re following a God’s every command." His anger, though subdued, was palpable, a simmering resentment that threatened to boil over.
“While it’s true I am an Asura now, I’m just biting my time until I can destroy the Gods. After all… that’s what our father would have wanted.”
Finral, who was trying his best to hide his rage, fell into a sudden wave of anger and impatience. He flung himself straight at his brother, firing off countless numbers of beams of lights while doing so.
“That is not what he would’ve wanted!! Our father believed in keeping a perfect balance. What reason would he have to destroy the Gods?!” he asked while clashing his can with Salomon’s fist.
“You only see him that way, because you don’t know the real him. That man is a cruel and cold person. He cares nothing about peace!”
*BOOM!
Again, they continue to clash over and over with no clear victor. While they do, six demons strategize their next moves once they escape this retched domain, each sitting around a table created with Goldilocks’ powers.
The demons grappled with their own desires, their initial interactions only served to highlight the vast gulf between their hopes and their reality. They were trapped within this prison, created by a monster comparable to a Saint. In their eyes, freedom was a distant dream.
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As if clinging to the last embers of hope, Cain questioned Goldilocks if she had the power to free them.
She refused to peel her eyes away from her hand-held console, but even if she didn’t it wouldn’t matter. Such a thing was out of her control. In her words:
“That Finral guy is totes built different when it comes to Constellation Arts.”
Adding his two sense was a lanky man, sipping on a cup of black tea he received thanks to Goldilocks’ power.
“Well, aren’t you just useless.”
*Sip
“Are you totes forgetting who gave you that drink? Aww you made me lose the level.”
The lanky man -that commonly went by the name of Jack- snickered a bit at her demise. That seemed to be the perfect spice to enhance his tea’s flavor. Afterward, he turned to Christopher, who was hovering over Goldilocks’ chair, silently observing her gameplay, and asked for his take on the situation -seeing as he was the best at reading people's strengths.
“It’s clear to anyone that they’re evenly match. But even more so with my power. I doubt this fight could end as anything but a draw. But it should be alright…” He paused, his eyes sweeping over each demon in turn. “…They have the same powers. Which means Salomon can also use Constellation Arts. I’m sure he’ll get us out somehow. And he’ll most likely stay back to fight that man.”
Jack, skeptical about that outcome, took a small sip of his tea before responding, “Get us out, you say…”
“…………”
You could almost see the large dots appearing above their heads as they saw the level of joy in Salomon’s eyes. It was painfully clear that helping them was the farthest thing on his mind. That realization prompted a mighty sigh from the group.
Cain, as crazy as ever, attempted to change the topic.
“If we do get out of here, Cain would ultra love to meet those brats again.”
“Those brats? Are you referring to the AntiGod’s companions?”
“I ultra am…"
"Wow. Did he just break third person?"
"He totes did."
"I believe that's the fist time he's done that."
*Sip
"Alright, you all can ultra shut your mouths now! And why are you saluting at me, Halter?!”
“Because you all will hail me!”
“Like hell we will!” they screamed in unison.
“….”
“Hey Midas. I get that we’re totes useless in this fight. But why are you here with us? Isn’t your power great for sneak attacks.”
They all turned to the man, who was even taller than Jack, as he absentmindedly scratched his cheek. Strangely, it sounded like two metal surfaces grinding together.
Unlike the other Asuras, he opted to lay on the floor, resting on his side while observing the duel between Salomon and Finral.
“Well...?” she reiterated.
Midas, ever stoic, simply met their gaze with a flicker of sadness in his eyes. He was a man of deep thought, with a soul the weight of gold thanks to his past mistakes.
He also had a rather shiny appearance, with the sides of his body seemingly covered in gold. Or were they actually gold? The others never asked, and he preferred to keep to himself, so he wasn’t about to share anytime soon.
“…Well, that is true. But…”
“But…?”
“I… I can’t interrupt a fight between family.”
“Ah-!”
They tumbled out of their seats in disappointment, then scolded him for not acting like a true demon and being too carefree. They grumbled about how he was always like this and similar complaints.