Three thousand years ago, a Demon Lord reigned supreme over the demon realm—a being of unfathomable power, commanding legions of demons, each possessing abilities that defied mortal comprehension. With a mere thought, the Demon Lord could reduce entire worlds to ash and cinder. Yet even absolute dominion could not satisfy the insatiable hunger that burned within.
On a moonless night, an ambition took root in the Demon Lord's mind: expansion. The demon realm, vast as it was, had become a cage—a monument to past conquests that no longer stirred the thrill of victory.
The Demon Lord unsheathed its blade, a weapon forged from the crystallized essence of fallen gods. With a single slash, reality itself screamed. The fabric between dimensions tore like parchment, revealing a world bathed in blue and green—a planet called Earth, teeming with fragile, unsuspecting life.
"Go forth," the Demon Lord commanded, its voice echoing through the void. "Claim this world in my name."
Millions poured through the rift—a tide of darkness that blotted out the stars.
The change came without warning.
Across the world, the air grew heavy, thick with the stench of sulfur and decay. People paused mid-step, looking up at a sky that had turned the color of old blood. The sun vanished behind roiling black clouds that moved against the wind, and from within that darkness, shapes began to emerge.
Millions of them.
Horned silhouettes. Wings that blocked out the horizon. Eyes that burned like embers in the gloom.
"W-what... what is that?!" A woman's voice cracked with terror.
"RUN! GET OUT OF HERE!" someone screamed.
Panic spread like wildfire. People scattered in every direction, trampling over one another in their desperation to escape something they couldn't understand—something their minds refused to accept.
Then, from the center of the demonic host, a figure descended. Larger than the rest, clad in obsidian armor that seemed to devour light itself. The Demon Commander raised one clawed hand, and the chaos fell silent.
"Enslave them all!" His voice boomed across the sky like thunder. "Our Lord desires this world—and what our Lord desires, our Lord shall have!"
"YEEESSS!" The demon army roared as one, a sound that shook the very foundations of the earth. "No mercy for these pathetic humans!"
The massacre began.
Spheres of crimson flame materialized in countless demonic hands, hovering like miniature suns before launching toward the ground. Cities erupted in fire. Forests became infernos. The screams of the dying mingled with the victorious howls of demons.
But amid the destruction, the Demon Commander's voice cut through once more.
"Do not burn the humans—only their sanctuaries! Destroy every place they might hide. Drive them into the open. Our Lord has... other plans for them."
A cruel smile twisted his face as he watched the world below begin to fall.
The age of humanity was ending.
The age of demons had begun.