The portal deposited Hubertus and Carl in what appeared to be an underground car park. Dim, flickering lights cast long shadows across rows of crumbling, rusted vehicles, many of which looked more like skeletal remains than functional transport.

Hubertus frowned, glancing around. “Eh, are we in the right place?”

Carl’s fiery eyes narrowed, his expression hardening. “No. This isn’t where we were supposed to end up.” He turned to Hubertus, his tone suddenly sharp. “Be careful, Hubertus. This might be a trap.”

A deep, rumbling voice echoed through the space, sending a shiver down Hubertus’ spine. “Not a trap,” it said, dripping with menace. “Just a way to greet a newbie.”

From the shadows emerged a sinister-looking demon, his hulking form illuminated by the weak light. His face was a grotesque squirming mass, as if worms were writhing just beneath his skin. His glowing red eyes locked onto Hubertus with unnerving intensity.

Carl’s tension eased slightly. “Oh, it’s you, Feral. Nice to see a friendly face.” He gave a crooked grin, though his tone remained wary.

The demon, Feral, smirked—or at least his worm-covered face attempted to. “Friendly? That’s generous, Carl.”

Carl crossed his arms. “Why have you manipulated the portal, Feral? We were headed to pick up his welcome packet.”

Feral took a step closer, his heavy footsteps echoing ominously. “I need a newbie for a job,” he said, his voice low and gravelly.

Carl raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “A job? What could a newbie possibly accomplish?”

Feral tilted his head, his squirming face rippling as he spoke. “I need someone newly registered to infiltrate the Order of Flames. There’s corruption in the Abyss of Nightingale, and only someone without an established reputation can get to the bottom of it.”

Carl let out a low whistle. “The Order of Flames? Really, Feral? You’re dragging a newbie into that mess?”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Hubertus stiffened. He had heard of the Order of Flames—a shadowy, secretive organization infamous for their cunning and ruthless tactics. These were not demons to trifle with.

“Why me?” Hubertus asked, his voice steady despite the unease gnawing at him.

Feral’s wormlike face rippled with amusement. “Because you’re expendable.”

Carl groaned, rubbing his temples. “Typical. You just can’t resist dragging someone into your schemes, can you?”

Feral chuckled darkly. “This isn’t a scheme, Carl. This is about preserving balance in the Abyss. Or have you forgotten what’s at stake?”

Carl hesitated, his usual smug demeanor replaced with something far more serious. He glanced at Hubertus, then back at Feral. “If you’re involving him in this, you better make sure he comes out alive.”

Hubertus gulped. Alive? That didn’t sound particularly reassuring.

Feral extended a clawed hand toward Hubertus, his glowing eyes narrowing. “So, what do you say, newbie? Ready to prove you’ve got what it takes?”

“What’s in it for me? What can I get out of it?” Hubertus asked, his arms crossed and his voice tinged with skepticism.

Feral’s worm-ridden face twisted into what might have been a grin. “Besides the souls of the damned? You’ll receive your first spell, the welcome packet, and…” He paused for dramatic effect, his glowing eyes narrowing. “The Scroll of Icarus.”

Carl’s jaw dropped, his fiery horns flickering brighter in shock. “You’re betting your Scroll of Icarus?!”

Hubertus glanced between them, puzzled. “Uh… what scroll?”

Carl rounded on Feral, pointing a clawed finger. “That’s one of the rarest artifacts in the Abyss! You’re seriously putting it on the line for a newbie?”

Feral’s grin didn’t waver. “I like to gamble, Carl. Besides, if he succeeds, it’s a fair trade. If he fails…” His face rippled ominously. “The scroll stays with me.”

Hubertus raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “Okay, I’ll bite. What does this scroll actually do?”

Feral’s glowing eyes locked onto him. “It grants the ability to fly.”

Hubertus frowned, glancing over his shoulder at his large, intimidating wings. “But I already have wings.”

Feral let out a guttural chuckle, shaking his head. “Those? Those are ornamental, kid. They’re part of your demon form—an illusion to intimidate. True power doesn’t come from appearances. It comes from your soul. And without the Scroll of Icarus, you’ll never harness that kind of power.”

Carl crossed his arms, still glaring at Feral. “This is insane. Giving him the scroll would make him a threat. You know that, right?”

“Only if he survives,” Feral said smoothly, his grin widening.

Hubertus tapped his chin, the gears in his mind turning. “So… you’re saying I get the scroll if I take this job and succeed?”

Feral nodded. “That’s the deal. But if you fail…” He gestured vaguely, his wormlike face twisting. “Well, let’s just say you won’t need wings where you’re going.”

Carl groaned, muttering under his breath. “This is a terrible idea.”

Hubertus smirked, turning to Feral. “I’ll take your bet. Let’s see what this Scroll of Icarus is worth.”