Threxil clung to the ceiling of the stone chamber, his eyes wide with hatred as he watched the dwarf sleep. Each soft snore sent a fresh wave of fury coursing through him.

  Kazgrim slept peacefully, lost in dreams of his family—visions of wealth and glory brought to the Deepdelver name. Though the reality was far less kind.

  The dwarf’s breath hitched in his throat and paused for a moment. Threxil leaned in, holding his own breath, excitement flickering in his eyes.

  Then Kazgrim coughed and smacked his lips.

  The demon’s expression twisted with rage.

  "JUST DIE ALREADY, YOU STUPID BASTARD!" he roared, voice echoing through the chamber.

  Kazgrim merely shifted slightly, rolling over and nuzzling deeper into his pillow. Threxil clenched his jaw, sharp teeth cutting into his lips, drawing thin lines of black blood.

  He seethed in silence as he heard footsteps approaching. The witch was coming to administer her medicine. His claws twitched with frustration. She would be the first to die when he was free of this wretched contract. Then, the rest would follow. And when he was done, he would finally escape this miserable prison.

  The door creaked open, and an insectoid woman with moth-like wings stepped through. A silken robe draped over her delicate frame, flowing as she moved with practiced grace. She approached the bed and settled at its foot, carefully preparing an assortment of vials.

  With a sudden drop, Threxil let himself fall from the ceiling.

  Mirexis flinched slightly but did not drop a single vial.

  The demon’s lips curled as he hissed, "Mirexis..."

  Her antennae twitched, but she continued working in silence.

  "I'm going to rip your wings off slowly," he whispered, voice like a blade scraping stone. "Then I’ll peel you open and DANCE ON YOUR BROKEN BODY!" His sudden shout reverberated through the chamber, dripping with malice.

  He lashed out, swinging a clawed hand toward her head.

  Agony erupted through his body.

  Threxil recoiled, snarling in pain. His claws curled into fists, his entire form trembling with unfulfilled rage.

  The contract wouldn’t allow it.

  Even the simplest pleasure—violence—was beyond his reach.

  For now.

  Mirexis finished preparing the medicine, her hands trembling slightly. She tried to suppress her fear, but she knew the demon could smell it on her. She was practically radiating danger pheromones.

  She stood and walked to the other side of the bed, careful with her movements. Behind her, the demon stomped in a furious circle, his claws scraping against the stone floor.

  "DON’T YOU DARE! LET HIM DIE, AND I’LL KILL YOU QUICKLY!" Threxil bellowed, his voice reverberating off the walls.

  Ignoring him, she gently adjusted the dwarf so he wouldn’t choke on the potion. Pushing his thick beard aside, she tilted the vial against his lips, letting the liquid trickle down his throat. He suckled weakly at the bottle, swallowing in small, labored gulps.

  "YOU DAMNED WITCH!" The demon’s voice rose to an ear-splitting pitch. "WHEN I GET YOU, I’LL EAT YOU ONE BITE AT A TIME! I’LL KEEP YOU ALIVE UNTIL YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A HEAD—THEN I’LL STOMP IT INTO THE DIRT WHERE YOU BELONG!"

  Mirexis placed the now-empty bottle into her satchel with careful precision. Without sparing the demon a glance, she turned toward the door.

  "THEN I’LL FIND YOUR SOUL IN THE ABYSS AND PULL IT APART ONE STRAND AT A TIME!" Threxil roared at her back.

  She steadied her nerves. Her antennae twitched as her mind screamed at her to flee, but instead, she turned. Meeting the demon’s gaze head-on, her eyes burned with sudden resolve.

  "You will never leave this place," she said.

  Then, before her courage could waver, she spun on her heel and slammed the door shut behind her.

  Her knees buckled, and her vision blurred at the edges. She had never felt such fear as she had in that room.

  Behind her, the demon stared at the closed door, his body trembling with unchecked rage.

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  And then he screamed.

  The very foundations of the chamber trembled with the force of it.

  Mirexis flinched at the sound, her wings fluttering involuntarily. For a single moment, she froze in place, heart hammering in her chest.

  Then she turned and hurried away, eager to leave this cursed place behind.

  She climbed the many stairs, her legs aching with each step, and finally emerged onto the streets of Limbo. The demon’s screams still echoed faintly in her ears—though she couldn't be certain if they were real or just trapped inside her mind.

  Every week, she had to descend into that accursed chamber to administer the dwarf’s medicine. Every week, she endured the demon’s seething rage, knowing that if she ever failed, that creature would be set free. She shuddered at the thought.

  She needed to escape this place before that could happen.

  But there was one problem. The Gatekeeper.

  Her antennae drooped as she considered her situation. That silent, unyielding force standing between her and freedom was almost as terrifying as the demon itself.

  With a deep sigh, she pushed her thoughts away. Right now, she needed a drink.

  Navigating through the winding streets, she made her way to the only tavern in Limbo—Solhaven. A little slice of heaven in this wretched prison.

  Stepping through the doors, she was immediately greeted by the sight of a full-blown bar fight.

  Bottles shattered. Fists flew. Tables crashed to the ground as men and beasts alike brawled with reckless abandon.

  Mirexis calmly skirted around the chaos and took her usual seat at the bar.

  The bartender, an unshakable figure with cool, observant eyes, barely acknowledged the ruckus behind him. He methodically cleaned a glass before setting it down and turning to her with a faint smile.

  "Same as usual?" he asked, though the question was merely a formality. Before she could answer, he placed a cracked glass of amber liquid on the counter.

  "Yes, thank you," she murmured, cupping the glass in both hands. She took a slow sip, the liquor spreading warmth through her weary body.

  "Anytime," the bartender replied, his voice smooth and measured. He glanced over her shoulder as a hulking orc approached.

  "Anyone sittin’ here?" the orc grunted, motioning to the stool beside Mirexis.

  She shook her head.

  "Ahh, good," the orc said, grabbing the stool—only to slam it over the head of a nearby beastkin.

  The fight escalated.

  The bartender simply sighed, picked up another glass, and resumed cleaning, unfazed by the mayhem around him.

  "It's a bit busier than usual, isn't it?" Mirexis asked, swirling the remnants of her drink in its cracked glass.

  The bartender grinned before shrugging. "People get excited when someone passes the Gatekeeper. Restores their hope." He chuckled, casting a glance at the ongoing brawl. "Though I wish they'd find a calmer way to celebrate."

  Mirexis set the glass down and leaned forward on the counter. "Who was it this time? The big lion guy? He had nice muscles," she mused.

  The bartender tapped a finger against his chin, thinking. "No, I think he died in the dungeon." He shook his head before continuing, "It was that jackass who never paid his tab. Ice mage, I think. I'll be hunting him down when I leave." He flashed a grin, revealing small, gleaming teeth.

  Mirexis shuddered slightly and stared down at her drink. "Anything else interesting happen lately?" she asked, absentmindedly tracing the rim of her glass with a finger.

  The bartender picked up another glass, his movements practiced and unhurried. "I've heard there's a human roaming around."

  The bar went noticeably quieter at the mention of the word. A few listeners edged closer, their interest piqued.

  The bartender sighed and shook his head. "But he's guarded by the dragon and that elf swordsman."

  A collective groan rippled through the onlookers before they lost interest and promptly resumed fighting. Mirexis leaned in closer, lowering her voice. "What's a human?" she whispered.

  The bartender hesitated for just a second before setting his glass down and leaning toward her. "They're powerful creatures pulled into this world from somewhere far away. I've heard stories of them shaping the fate of entire kingdoms."

  An image of a towering, muscle-bound warrior flashed through Mirexis’ mind. She quickly covered her face, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. "And there's one here? Where?" she asked, voice laced with curiosity.

  The bartender sighed, leaning back against the counter. "I sent Gobble out to see if he could hire him. Said they usually hang around the edge of the marketplace." He smirked. "Imagine—a human waiting tables. I'd be the talk of the town for sure." He let out a hearty laugh.

  Mirexis tilted her glass back and drained it in one gulp before setting it down with a soft clink against the counter. She reached into her pocket, pulling out two coins, and slid them across to the bartender.

  "I'm gonna take a look for myself," she said with a grin.

  A flicker of concern crossed the bartender’s face. "Don't do anything stupid. You're one of my less annoying customers," he said, though his features soon twisted into a smirk.

  She matched his grin. "I know I'm your favorite."

  The bartender chuckled. "That’s what they all say." He shook his head before adding, "Good luck."

  She waved him off and, skillfully avoiding the ongoing fights, made her way out of the tavern.

  The walk to the marketplace was unhurried. As she moved, her eyes wandered upward to the massive chain stretching endlessly into the fog. Vealith. A home she could never return to. She missed her hive.

  She shook the thought away. They were gone. All of them.

  But maybe... maybe she could start a new one. A playful thought crept into her mind—if she became a queen, she could build something new, a fresh start. And then, the image of the supposed human resurfaced. Broad shoulders. Strong arms.

  She giggled to herself, brushing away the idle fantasy as the marketplace came into view.

  She didn’t know exactly what she was looking for, but she had an idea. If she couldn’t find the human, she’d look for the dragon or the elf. She had seen them both before, whenever they challenged the Gatekeeper.

  They were probably the two who fought him the most.

  ----

  Threxil slammed his head into the wall—again and again. If he couldn’t hurt people, he’d hurt the walls instead.

  A loose stone dislodged from the ceiling, tumbling to the floor with a sharp crack. He turned to it with a snarl. How dare it interrupt him. With a furious kick, he sent it hurtling across the chamber, where it struck the door with a heavy thud.

  Then, a thought crept into his mind, curling into a sinister grin across his face.

  That witch wouldn’t be able to give the bastard his medicine if she couldn’t get through the door.

  A low chuckle rumbled from his throat as he tore into the walls with reckless fury, ripping stone from its place, sending chunks crashing to the floor. He’d bury the entrance—seal it shut.

  And when he was free, he’d bury this world in corpses.

  His snarls twisted into a ravenous cackle, echoing through the chamber like a promise of impending carnage.