The sky bled, and the earth trembled with agony. Roars tore through the air, and reality contorted under the power of an incomprehensible force. Portals flickered into existence by the dozens, and giant monstrosities pushed through. Mind grating screams split the air and waves of hellish energy scorched the landscape.

Unbidden, the terrible wave of power traveled across the land until it smashed into a gigantic golden barrier that protected a large walled city. This was the provincial capital of New Haven, the largest outlying city of the Thrasian Empire. It was home to many hundreds of thousands of people, who were now fleeing the Rifts that had opened above them.

Sitting atop one of the towers overlooking the attack, was a single man. He gazed out at the opening portals of hell with a cold disinterest. His silver eyes studied the thrashing rifts and the Demons of war and joy that pushed through their opening rifts.

The harsh wind ripped at the air and tore at his long, silky white hair. Soot from the cursed fires filled the air and covered his sun-touched skin. This man was Kal Taronis, one of the most powerful heroes that had ever lived.

What a terrible sight. The thought crossed Kal Taronis’s mind as he watched the demons pour from the rifts, only to be swept away by the power that he wielded. His heart ached immensely, though he did his absolute best not to let it show. He was the greatest hero in the world, and he refused to let emotion slip through his facade. Even now, when he knew that his death was at hand.

“Hero, the civilians have been fully evacuated as you have instructed. The guard and the army stationed here are ready to fight to the last, sir.” The captain of the guard appeared next to Kal. He held a long spear in his left palm, and a sword dangled from his hip. But his normally handsome face was twisted from fear.

Kal shifted his head listlessly towards the soldier. “There is no need. Withdraw, all of you.” He waved him away and turned his attention back to the rifts that were growing in size. The demons were pouring out by the hundreds. Imps, demons, and even the rare greater demons were making their appearance. All for him, like piranhas.

“You will die if you face them alone. Please, with us, you at least have a chance.” The captain begged him and fell to an armored knee. His voice took on a deep tone of urgency.

“No captain. Recall your troops and ensure the safety of the civilians. They are here for me, and once I fall, they will come for the rest. You must escape while you still can.” Kal paused for a second and looked towards the sky. His heart ached, and he wanted to cry. Today, the gods abandoned him. That much was certain. His divine artifact which had been used to summon the others had shattered and his blessings were gone. But that didn’t matter. He had grown this strong without the gods, and without them, he would make his last stand. “Now go, and protect the others.”

The captain stood there for a moment. His blue eyes radiated an immense sadness, and his mouth moved, but no words came out for a few seconds. “Hero, we won’t forget you or your kindness.” He gave a quick bow before going away, leaving Kal on his own.

At least someone would remember me. He thought to himself sadly as he gazed out towards the dying lands. Trees withered and mutated with each passing second. Imps of eternal joy mutilated the bodies of dead cattle, cutting wide grins into their snouts. Imps of battle killed each other by the dozens, only for more to pour through the portal. The odor of blood and fire suffocated the air, and smoke hung heavy like an iron curtain.

He sat on the edge of the wall, with his feet dangling over the churning abyss. He was only fourteen when he was taken from Earth and turned into a soldier for the gods of this world.

For years, he had fought on the battlefield and bled for this world. His faith had long since withered, and now, he only struggled for the innocents of this world. He had done nothing to anger the deities, so why did they betray him? After all he did, why? What did he do to deserve this?

His jaw clenched before he forced himself to relax. “I’m sorry, mom and dad, it looks like I won’t be coming home after all.” He whispered under his breath. A thin sheen of sweat formed on his forehead as the constant use of a barrier this large wore on him.

He twisted his head and swept his sight across the city. All the soldiers had listened to his command and were busy withdrawing. By the time he died, they should be far enough away to get help from the others. In the end, that was all that mattered. What he felt now didn’t. The innocent would come first like they always did.

“Goodbye.” He whispered into the cursed wind and stood up. Trails of tears streamed down his cheeks, washing off the ash that had gathered on his face. With just one flick of his wrist, a set of long, slender twin blades appeared. Sovereignty and Penance were the names of these two weapons. They were forged by his hand many years ago and were his most prized possessions. Now would be the last time he would ever use them. He took a deep breath, and his body shimmered out of existence before reappearing in front of the mass of demons.

Kal’s swords flashed, and heads rolled from the demons by the dozens. His body flickered as he began a deadly dance. The twin swords sparkled as if they were bolts of lightning. His movements were as fluid as running water. Defense and offense blended into one as the Hero moved through the legion of demons. Infernal blades shattered like ice and bodies were shredded. Even the powerful greater demons fell to his blades.

However he was growing tired, and his mana was already exhausted from holding up the barrier for as long as he did. Now, he was trapped in the seemingly unending wave of demons. His body ached, and he felt his soul was strained. He knew he couldn’t keep this up forever, but he kept forcing himself. Just a little longer, each second he bought, would be another second the others could get to safety. So he fought, until his fingers bled, and his spirit wailed for peace. With practiced ease, he tossed his blades into the air, and snapped his fingers. The sound boomed like thunder, and a curtain of silver flames expanded outwards. He spun in a soft circle, and pulled out a set of three restoration vials.

Around him the demons were forced back by the searing silver flame, and he quickly chugged each vial, before throwing them with lethal accuracy in a random direction. He felt his health soar and his mana exploded back to what it was. Power pulsed through his veins like lightning, spurning him on.

He pressed off of the ground, reaching up to the hilts of his shining blades. His body twisted, and he plummeted to the ground like a falling griffin. Penance rang like a struck bell, and sovereignty howled like a raging king. Strands of white twisted around the hero like a snake and screeched into the screaming wind as he fell to the ground like a falling star.

Power tore through his viens, as his mind fell away. Memories from a distant past cycled through his mind, and words whispered into his ears. Do not relent my student. Hesitation is death. Once you commit there can only be one person left alive.

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Kal's heart trembled as he thought about that wiley old man. Pangs of sadness pierced his heart but he quickly clamped it down. Now wasn't the time to think about the past. He still had a job to do. His jaw tightened and he shoved his wandering thoughts away as he fell into the earth. Blood and dirt rose into the air in a large explosion.

Ichor, and gore exploded around him, as he swept his blades through the air. Silver electricity crackled and grey flame crept outward from his body. His silver eyes swept across the battle torn land scape and came to rest on the largest portal.

Time slowed to a crawl around him, as his thoughts swirled. In there he would find the demon lord's. While he was strong, he couldn't destroy every demon that poured out of the rifts. That was hopeless. He would have to plunge into the heart of the infernal and kill the heart of the invasion. At least then the forces here would be weakened.

Kal steeled his heart as he gazed up towards the fractured sky, and torwards to the yellow star that burned brightly. He took a deep breath, and taste iron, dirt, but above all else the last remnants of this world.

His blades howled mournfully into the dying air as power kicked up around him. His muscles bunched under his torn clothing, and his white hair danced on the wind. Then, just as suddenly he vanished from sight, and the rift rippled. The horde of demons, stood for a moment, unsure of what to do next. Some plunged into the rift behind him, others turned torwards the now abandoned city, eager to plunder its husk. But the rest stood there, thier eyes glazed seemingly like statues as time crept past.

An unknown amount of time later:

Kal Taronis’s soul floated in the infernal plane. Once, he was the greatest hero to have ever existed, but now he is nothing more than a force of strength that the countless demonic factions squabbled over like a discarded scrap of meat.

Thousands of temptations whispered out to him from the darkness. Yet none of them were strong enough to approach the remnants of his life force. So his soul floated, unchangingly through the chaotic energy of the demonic realm. The power that pulsed the radiant star incinerated demons that were too slow to move out of the way. It scorched the malevolent miasma as it tried to consume the fiery accumulation of the virtuous spirit. But even the fabric of hell was powerless against the fallen hero.

For countless eons, Kal floated within the swirling mass of energy. But as time passed his soul grew weaker. The violent reds and wrathful oranges clashed into the glowing white corona that enshrouded his form. Left with just his thoughts, the hero grew angry. After all I did for them, this is how I am repaid? Left to rot in this hell?

His thoughts swirled around like a vortex. Pushing away all the temptations that crept forward to him. They took me as a child. Crafted me into their weapon. Yet, they never appreciated me. Flakes of radiant gold turned into dirt brown as hatred filled his being.

He could remember it all. The day he was stolen from his world and told he was a hero, there to save the innocents from the demon lords. His life marched through his thoughts in an unending dance that crushed his soul. Why did it come to this?

His last moments played in mind on repeat like a twisted play. He stood there, staring into the dark rift that had split the sky of New Haven. The largest he had ever seen. Without the slightest bit of hesitation, he had ordered the troops and civilians to retreat.

Since he was the only hero in the area, he had shouldered the burden of saving them all. For many days and nights, he stood alone, slaughtering wave after wave of infernal creatures. He could remember the rancid stench of the demonic blood. Each spark of pain danced across his nerves as he fought both demons of War and Joy.

It wasn’t the first time he had to do something like this. But this time, it was different. Never had he seen those two factions be civil enough to fight with one another. In the end, it made no difference to him. Each fell before his blades like grass under a scythe. He had cut through hordes and broken greater demons against his swords.

Until he crashed into the lord of the rift. The Demon of Everlasting Joy, Agemenon. A towering monster that had the face of a man stitched into a sky-splitting grin glued onto his face. Kal’s soul shuddered for a moment at the thought of the monster. Even though the demon lord was now dead, the memory of the sick twistings of the monster lingered in the depths of his mind.

Not that it mattered now. They were both dead, and the truth was laid bare for Kal to see. The hero council must have wanted him dead. It was the only thing that made sense to him. Otherwise, they would have come for him. More of his golden aura faded at his revelation, as negative emotions built within his soul. All he ever did was his best. But it wasn’t good enough. He still could have done better.

His luminous form pulsed and more of the gleaming motes slipped away as he stewed. Finally after so long the frenzied force of the infernal was able to extend a tendril out to one of the brown moats and slowly corrupted him. But Kal was too far into his mind to notice it. Energy swirled, and his thoughts raced past him. He could hear murmurs and reflections of the people he had saved.

He was a hero. He was a savior and an angel to the average person. There was nothing better than him. Damn the gods who stood against him. Damn the heroes who had betrayed him. The swirling energy pressed and prodded, and the hero's spirit expanded like a dying star. It stretched and consumed the essence of the hellish realm, and Kal fell into an abyss of his doom as his mind and body were slowly corrupted.

More sparks of hatred scattered across his being as he fed on the prayers he could hear in the far distance. His humanity fell away like droplets of rain as the demonic force dug into his deepest desires. Piece by piece, his virtues were brought to the surface, and corrupted as the timer to his life counted down. The desire to live ballooned into something far more than it ever could be. The hero’s desire to be the best gradually transformed into an overwhelming need to be more than perfect.

Kal’s rage at being taken from the simple pleasures of life distorted into a perverted desire to enjoy all there is. The worst of pain transformed into the most rapturous of agonies as his memories became more vivid. Sanity shredded under the weight of the infernal transformation, as the dying man lost himself.

At once, everything became clear. All the lies ever spoken were laid bare for the hero to see. The gods were terrified of the demons, not because they were monsters. No, it was because of what they represented. They were the emotions of the mortals, given life.

His soul pulsed outwards, and the airless current blew away the top layer of the sphere. Pain bloomed once more within his tendrils. It scintillated through the hero in agonizing waves that quickly blended with pleasure. Slowly but surely the last fragments of gold faded to dirty brown, and the ghostly form quivered one last time before imploding with the force of a dying star.

The last of the hero’s sanity fell from his grasp as he faded into the current of the nether. All that could be heard was the countless voices of an infinite amount of mortals. Each thought, fear, and plea echoed through Kal’s being with perfect clarity. All it took was a second magnified into an eternity for all his thoughts, feelings, ideas, and past to merge into one and override his soul.

Throughout the cosmos, demon lords and gods alike looked into the sky as a psychic death knell rang. Color, for the briefest of seconds, faded, and power was drawn towards a central point in space and time. The universe rippled and was on the verge of truly shredding as the ghastly scream ended. In its wake, a deep ebullient laugh followed. A cackle filled with lust, desire, pain, pleasure, and everything in between. It reached into the depths of every sensitive being, caressing their deepest parts like a long-lost lover and tugging almost sensually at them.

The hero Kal was no more, and in his place stood a demon lord, unlike any other. A monster wrought by the hubris of man, and the failure of the gods. Yet it contained the same drive that the hero once did. His dedication to master the art of war and himself. Even the ones that he had buried into the depths of his soul, like the yearning for freedom, and the desire to experience the world in all its glory and vice. But they were more now than they ever were. Amplified, beyond imagination, and combined, to form the perfect creature.