"You know, I think I like you, mortal. From our first encounter, about a year ago, in your time. I found myself amused by such idiocy. And in the center of it all... was you. So, I wanted to meet you again, but I wasn't able to, until now."

"If you think I'm an idiot trying to protect my world, then so be it. I will be the idiot, as long as I know my friends and family, and everyone I know is safe." Marcus responded. He swallowed hard before continuing. "I will make sure you go back to hell, demon." He said with venom.

"Ah, I'm offended," Gluttony said, smiling demonically. "You see, I'm not just a simple 'demon', I'm much more than that, so much more that you couldn't be able to fathom my role."

Gluttony's smile widened, stretching into something feral, something ancient. "Your kind uses that word, demon, as if it captures what we are. As if it places us neatly into the confines of your fear." He leaned forward slightly, shadows bending toward him as if compelled. "But I am not bound by your definitions, mortal. I am Gluttony, a fundamental truth of the Infernal Realm. A force, not a creature."

Marcus steadied his breathing, forcing his trembling legs to hold firm. "Force or not," he said, voice sharp despite the ache in every syllable, "you'll bleed and you'll fall. I'll make sure of it."

Gluttony let out a low, rumbling laugh. "Bleed? Fall? You misunderstand." He lifted a hand, and the surrounding shadows twisted violently, spiraling into his palm like a vortex devouring all light. "You saw me allow destruction. Not suffer from it." His eyes glowed brighter, two crimson suns burning with contempt. "There is a difference your fragile mind fails to grasp."

Marcus clenched his fists. "Call my mind fragile all you want. I still stand here while you try to break me."

"That is precisely why I find you entertaining," Gluttony replied. "You refuse to acknowledge the futility of your existence. You claw upward toward hope, toward meaning, knowing both will eventually crumble in your hands."

Marcus raised his chin. "If meaning crumbles, I'll rebuild it. If hope shatters, I'll forge a new one. That's what mortals do."

Gluttony's amusement flickered into something colder, sharper. "And that is why you suffer. Why your species drowns in tragedy." He took a step forward, and reality warped with him, the ground sinking under his foot as if in reverence. "You cling to what is destined to end."

"If it ends," Marcus shot back, "I'll be the one who decides how."

Gluttony paused. For the first time, there was silence, true silence, as if the planet itself waited.

Then Gluttony exhaled slowly. "Very well," he said. "Let us see whether your conviction is strength or simply another flavor for me to devour." His smile sharpened. "Speak, Marcus. Before I bury this world in shadow, what will you cling to next?"

Marcus inhaled slowly, steadying the tremor in his chest. "I'll cling to what you'll never understand," he answered. "Choice. Purpose. The will to rise even when everything says stay down."

Gluttony tilted his head, studying him like a scholar examining an insect. "Choice," he repeated softly. "A charming illusion. Purpose… a leash mortals place around their own necks." His grin returned, monstrous and elegant all at once. "And will?" His voice deepened, vibrating the fractured earth. "Will is simply seasoning."

Marcus didn't flinch. Not this time. "Then choke on it."

A flicker of surprise crossed Gluttony's expression, brief, sharp, almost intrigued. "You speak boldly for someone standing at the edge of disintegration."

"Someone has to," Marcus said. His shadows rose behind him, spiraling upward, gathering like a rising storm. "If not me, then no one. And I'm not giving you the satisfaction of an easy victory."

Gluttony stepped closer, the air trembling under each stride. "Mortals," he whispered, almost fondly. "Forever ignorant. Forever stubborn. Forever interesting." His fingers curled, and the shadows around him coiled like starving serpents. "Very well. Let your last stand amuse me a little longer."

Marcus tightened his grip on the swirling void energy at his fingertips. "This isn't a last stand."

Gluttony's grin widened. "Confidence or delusion?"

"A promise."

The demon's eyes narrowed, the crimson glow intensifying. "To whom?"

Marcus lifted his head, expression unwavering. "Everyone counting on me."

For a heartbeat, Gluttony was still. Then he chuckled, low and dark. "Then scream it, mortal," he said. "Scream your purpose. Scream your vow. Let me savor the sound before I take it away."

Marcus took one step forward, shadows blazing behind him like black fire. "You want my vow?" His voice sharpened to steel. "Fine. I won't let you touch this world. I won't let you hurt anyone else. I'll stop you, no matter what I have to become."

Gluttony's smile shifted, no longer amusement but hunger. "Then become it," he whispered. "Show me the shape of your desperation."

Marcus braced himself as the demon raised his hand, shadows gathering like a collapsing universe. The battlefield trembled, space distorting, reality straining under Gluttony's will.

And Marcus stood against it, unshaken, unyielding.

Gluttony's eyes gleamed. "Let us begin."

The air quaked, a low hum resonating through the cracked, icy battlefield. Gluttony's shadow lance reformed above him, a monolithic spear of void and malice, pulsing as if alive, craving destruction.

Every instinct screamed at Marcus to flee, to surrender, but he held his ground, shadows coiling around him like a storm ready to erupt.

"You're still standing," Gluttony murmured, voice curling through the air like smoke. "I could erase this entire world before you could even blink, and yet you persist. Fascinating."

Marcus tightened his stance. "Persistence is all I have left," he said. "If I fall, everything falls, but if I stand, maybe, just maybe, there's a chance."

With a roar, Gluttony thrust the shadow lance downward. The strike hit like a cataclysm, tearing the frozen ground apart, sending spires of ice and jagged rock flying into the air.

Marcus spun on instinct, channeling his shadows into a protective lattice, a dark mesh that wrapped around his body like obsidian armor. The impact still rattled him, forcing the breath from his lungs, but he held firm.

"You cling to hope," Gluttony said, circling him like a predator. "But hope is a candle in the wind. I am the storm."

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