February 1st. USA, Sector "Beta," Minnesota.

  The heavy armored doors of the conference hall parted with a strained hum, as if reality itself was resisting what was about to occur inside. Behind a colossal table made of black obsidian sat Mira. She did not move; only her cold gaze slid across the hall, which was rapidly filling with beings whose names had been whispered in prayers and curses for centuries.

  "Mira, don't you think it’s a bit much to call us all to one place?" the raspy voice of the Time Demon rang out. "You know that many of us carry millennia of bloody conflicts on our shoulders."

  Into the hall they came, one after another: War, enveloped in the smell of burning; Catastrophe, whose presence made the lights flicker; Eternity, whose face shifted constantly. Behind them trailed the rest: Angel, Demon, Hell, God, Illusion, Submission... The air in the room became so dense with the excess of mana that a normal human's lungs would have simply been crushed. Following the "Concepts" came the Third Generation demons: Nuclear Weapon, Weapon, Violence, Water.

  "A slaughter is about to begin," the Time Demon muttered, eyeing his snarling brethren.

  But at that moment, the hall plunged into absolute silence. Behind Mira’s back, woven directly from the void, Aurora—the Demon of Oblivion—materialized. She sat down calmly beside Mira, surveying those present with indifference.

  The effect was instantaneous. The Third Generation demons, without a word, dropped to their knees, pressing their foreheads to the floor. The Second Generation demons froze; in their eyes was a mixture of burning hatred and paralyzing fear.

  "How do you dare show your face here after everything you’ve done?" the Time Demon growled, taking a step forward.

  Aurora didn't even look at him. She simply snapped her fingers lazily.

  CLAP.

  The Time Demon's head flew to the side with a wet thud, hitting the wall, but immediately began growing back out of a green mist of mana.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  "Open your mouth without permission one more time—and I will erase the very concept of 'time' from your essence," Aurora said quietly.

  "You are an incorrect demon," spoke War, her hands trembling with rage. "You’ve become too human, Aurora. You smell of their weakness."

  Aurora cast a single, brief glance at her. War instantly choked on her own words, turned pale, and looked away, unable to withstand the pressure.

  "Now, as to why I have gathered you here," Mira’s voice cut through the silence. "While humans delude themselves with hope and build toy alliances against the Kaiju, we have a more serious task."

  "What kind?" the Catastrophe Demon tapped his claws impatiently on the table. "Last time, you united us against those upstarts who called themselves gods. We mowed down their Pantheons. What do you want now?"

  "You all know my brother. Subject Zero."

  At the mention of that name, even the most ancient entities in the hall involuntarily tensed. The room grew cold.

  "A long time ago, he did not have this curse," Mira continued. "But on that day, many years ago, the sky above Earth cracked. Archangels descended from the heavens. A battle took place that is not written in your books. At the site of the struggle, only mountains of corpses from the heavenly host were later found. Archangels lay with severed heads, and around them—hundreds of common angels. But the most frightening thing wasn't the wounds. On their frozen faces was a primal, transcendent fear that no demon in this hall could ever inspire."

  Mira gripped the edge of the table so hard the stone cracked.

  "At that moment, my brother disappeared for two years. When he returned, the Curse of Oblivion was already upon him. From the words of Lucida and the few eyewitnesses who survived, we know: Zenhald blasted a path 'upstairs.' To where their Creator lives. He staged a slaughter there, killing at least four Archangels in their own citadel. They could not kill him there—and that is exactly why they cursed him, to erase his personality, to strip him of his mind and purpose."

  Mira stood up, and her aura filled the hall, suppressing the will of everyone present.

  "We are going on a march against Heaven. We will destroy their damn golden gates, find those who cast this spell, and force them to lift it. We will erase the very concept of 'holiness' from this world."

  "And what is our benefit?" the Catastrophe Demon croaked. "Why should we risk ourselves for your brother?"

  Mira looked at him and suddenly laughed—a hollow, terrifying laugh devoid of warmth.

  "Your benefit? Hahaha! The benefit is that after this campaign, Aurora and I... we won't kill you. That reward should be more than enough for you."

  A deathly silence fell over the hall. The demons looked at one another, realizing they had been left with no choice. Standing before them were the two most dangerous beings in the history of the worlds, and behind them stood the unseen shadow of the one who once made the gods scream in terror.

  The army began to assemble. And its target was the sky itself.