The guest house came alive as the hour of the celebration drew closer.
Servants moved quietly through the wide halls, adjusting lights, opening balconies, and laying out clothes that had been prepared in advance. The mountain air outside carried heat even at this height, the distant glow of lava rivers painting the sky in slow-moving reds and oranges.
Lyrate emerged first.
She wore a deep red dress that matched her hair perfectly, the fabric flowing, like it had been grown rather than stitched. Fine patterns traced the edges, subtle and alive, reacting faintly to her presence. She glanced down at herself once, then looked up with a satisfied nod.
Aurora followed soon after, dressed in layered shades of blue. The cloth shimmered like water under moonlight, shifting slightly as she moved. She spun once in place, clearly pleased, then grinned when she caught Lyrate watching.
"What?" Aurora said. "If I’m going to a demon celebration, I’m not underdressing."
Ragnar stepped out next, and the corridor went quiet for half a second.
He wore a heavy suit that looked more like ceremonial armor than clothing. Dark metal plates were fitted together cleanly, polished but scarred enough to show use. The shoulders were broad, exaggerated even for his frame, and a deep crimson lining showed beneath the black exterior.
He cracked his neck once and grinned. "Feels tighter than battlefield armor."
"That’s because you’re not supposed to punch anyone in it," Aurora replied.
Ragnar laughed. "We’ll see."
Knight appeared without any announcement, already dressed in the robes of the Order of Absolute. Black fabric layered over black, simple and sharp, his hood covering his head. He hadn’t changed at all, and somehow that made him stand out more than anyone else.
Silver came next, wearing flowing robes of gold and pale white. The material caught the light constantly, reflecting it softly rather than sharply.
"I feel overdressed," Silver muttered.
"You are," Ragnar said, clapping him lightly on the shoulder.
Primus stepped out last among the group, dressed entirely in black. No ornamentation. No shine. The clothes fit him perfectly, simple and heavy. His expression was serious and somber.
Then Steve and Mazikeen arrived together.
Steve wore dark formal clothes with faint lightning patterns running along the cuffs, clearly chosen to look impressive but not restrictive. Mazikeen, to everyone’s mild surprise, had chosen something that actually matched him—deep red and black, fitted and sharp, with subtle flame motifs woven through the fabric.
Steve glanced at her, then at himself. "We look coordinated."
"Don’t read into it," Mazikeen said flatly.
"I’m absolutely reading into it."
She rolled her eyes.
I looked North beside me.
She wore a black dress, simple but elegant, with clean lines and a red flower on it. Nothing flashy. Nothing unnecessary. When she looked at me, there was excitement in her eyes, not nerves.
"You clean up well," she said.
I smiled. "You’re one to talk."
She took my hand without hesitation.
Once everyone had gathered outside the guest house, the mood settled into something light and anticipatory.
"So," Steve said, looking around, "who exactly are we meeting tonight? Monarchs? Generals? Ancient demons who stare too much?"
"All of the above," Aurora said cheerfully.
Ragnar cracked his knuckles. "As long as there’s food."
Knight spoke calmly. "And politics."
Ragnar grimaced. "I hate that word."
Before the conversation could spiral further, a presence approached.
A demon attendant arrived. He bowed deeply.
"The guests are expected," he said. "Please follow me."
We lifted off together, following him through the air.
The flight toward the main mountain was slow, allowing the scale of Dragos to fully reveal itself. Volcanoes burned across the surface like open wounds, rivers of lava carving glowing paths through dark land. Above it all, three moons drifted in wide arcs, their light mixing with the fire below.
As we drew closer, the mountain range at the planet’s heart dominated everything else. One peak stood taller than the rest, massive and ancient, the Demon Monarch’s palace carved directly into its core. Attached to it, like extensions grown over time, were several grand structures.
Our destination was one of them.
The building clung to the mountain’s side, terraces carved into stone, banners of deep red and black flowing freely in the heated wind. Light spilled from enormous windows, music and voices carrying faintly even from outside.
We landed on a wide platform before the entrance.
Guards stood at attention, weapons held respectfully, not threatening. The doors ahead were massive, etched with patterns of flame and conquest.
As we flew closer to the celebration hall, the sound of music and voices began to carry through the heated air. Laughter echoed faintly from within.
Silver’s gaze drifted away from the doors.
He looked out over the planet instead, toward the dark horizon where the sky met molten land. "...It feels strange," he said quietly.
"There are still rifts out there," Silver continued, his voice calm but heavy. "Demons fighting. Dying. Whole rifts locked in battles that won’t end tonight. And here we are, walking into a celebration."
No one interrupted him.
"It almost feels wrong," he added. "Like we’re pretending the war isn’t happening."
Aurora floated a little closer to him, her blue hair fluttering in the heated wind. She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she looked toward the doors as well, then beyond them, as if seeing something further than the hall.
"That’s exactly why this exists," she said.
Silver glanced at her.
"If all we ever did was fight, bleed, and bury the dead," Aurora continued, her voice steady, "then this war would already be over. Not because we lost, but because everyone would be empty."
She gestured subtly toward the hall.
"This isn’t pretending the war doesn’t exist. It’s reminding ourselves what we’re fighting to protect. Moments like this. Places that can still laugh. Still breathe."
Her eyes softened slightly.
"Those demons out there need to know that what they’re bleeding for still exists. That when they survive, there’s something waiting for them besides another battlefield."
Silver was quiet for a moment.
Then he nodded slowly.
"...I see."
Aurora smiled faintly. "Besides, tomorrow we go back to killing things. Tonight, we remember we’re alive."
Ragnar chuckled from behind them. "Well said."
The attendant gestured forward. "They are waiting."
I took North’s hand firmly and stepped forward.
The doors opened.
Warm light poured out, along with the sound of conversation. The hall beyond was enormous, giant pillars supported the enormous roof.
A voice rang out clearly.
"The Order of Absolute has arrived."
And the place went silent.
Every head turned.
I entered first, North at my side, Lyrate and Aurora flanking us. Behind us came Ragnar, Knight, Silver, Primus, Steve, and Mazikeen.
At the far end of the hall stood the General, already waiting, a small smile on his face as he stepped forward to greet us.
The celebration had begun.