The Maw woke hungry.
Lucien felt it first in his teeth—a vibration humming through his jawbone, rattling his silver mask-eyes until the lenses cracked. The stones beneath his boots shivered, then parted, revealing a throat of pulsating black muscle.
Orlan's waxen face split into a grin. "The sacrament begins."
Then the floor ate Lucien's left leg.
Course One: The Appetizer
The Maw took its time with Lucien's calf.
Tendrils of living darkness coiled around his flesh, not tearing, not biting—dissolving. His armor flaked away like rotten parchment. Skin peeled back in perfect spirals, revealing muscle that unraveled into threads of crimson smoke.
No pain.
That was the horror.
His nerves died before they could scream.
Lucien's blade flashed—silver fire meeting primordial hunger—but the steel melted against the Maw's tongue. His Skill Analyzation sputtered:
[The Maw - ???]
• Defenses: Infinite Regeneration
• Weakness: None Detected
• Recommendation: Pray
Course Two: The Main Dish
Kael arrived as Lucien's knee vanished into the darkness.
Not to save.
To observe.
The Hollow King stood at the precipice, his crown dripping void onto the feasting tendrils. They recoiled—not in fear, but reverence.
"Interesting," Kael murmured. "It remembers your blood."
Lucien roared, swinging his shattered blade—
—only for Kael to catch it between two fingers. The metal screamed as it corroded to dust.
"You still don't understand," Kael placed his palm on Lucien's chest. "This isn't execution."
The Maw's tendrils surged upward in a black tsunami.
"It's inheritance."
Course Three: The Dessert
What remained of Lucien Virell came apart in three acts:
1. The Flesh
The Maw's tongue lashed around his torso, peeling skin like grape skin. His ribs snapped outward—not broken, blooming—into a grotesque flower of marrow and meat.
2. The Mind
Memories drained first. Childhood summers. Sword training. His mother's face. Each siphoned away through the hollows of his mask-eyes, leaving only static.
3. The Soul
The final bite took nothing.
Because nothing remained.
The Aftermath
Kael watched the Maw belch smoke.
Orlan knelt, his third eye weeping waxen tears. "Will it speak now?"
Above them, the estate shuddered. The walls pulsed with new veins. The air tasted of copper and confession.
Somewhere in the foundations, something that had once been Lucien Virell opened its eyes.
Kael smiled.
"It already is."
Final Frame:
Every kingdom needs a herald.
Ours just learned to scream.