Lilith walked forward slowly, savoring the moment.
Each step was deliberate, theatrical.
"You know what I love most?" she said conversationally, as if discussing the weather rather than mass slaughter. "The moment when hope dies. That exact instant when someone realizes they can't win, can't survive, can't do anything except wait for the end."
She crouched beside a collapsed boy who'd fought bravely, who'd killed three corrupted creatures before the pressure brought him down. He tried to move, to crawl away, but his body wouldn't obey.
Lilith reached out and gently touched his cheek. Almost tender.
"Like this~" she whispered.
Then her hand moved and his head separated from his shoulders.
Blood sprayed across pristine stone.
She stood, licking the blood from her fingers with a satisfied hum. "Delicious. Fear makes everything taste better, don't you think?"
Nyra's shadows surged, forming a massive construct that lunged at Lilith from behind—
