The gates of Eldhar opened for him at midnight.
Without announcement or fanfare. It had only the slow grinding of ancient mechanisms as stone and iron parted to admit what was returning.
Liam walked alone through streets that should have been empty but weren't.
Demons lined the thoroughfares— watching. Silent witnesses to something few couldn't quite name but recognized instinctively.
Fear and reverence mixed in equal measure.
He'd changed in the weeks since departing.
Not physically—the human body was the same, the grey eyes still occasionally flickering crimson. But something fundamental had shifted. The way he moved. The weight he carried. The presence that preceded him like a tide.
Word had spread faster than any messenger could travel. The Radiant Empire's retreat. The Grand Commander who never returned. The seven outposts secured through violence that made veteran demons whisper prayers.
But beneath those whispers was something else.
A question that everyone felt but no one dared voice.
Is he truly the one?
The castle rose before him, its towers cutting the night sky like accusations. Liam had left as the Queen's desperate gambit.
A human playing demon god because survival demanded the performance.
He wasn't that anymore.
Guards at the castle entrance bowed without being commanded. Their movements were automatic, instinctive, the kind of submission that came from recognizing something higher in the food chain.
[Dominion: 5.0%]
[Infamy: Dreaded across both empires]
The number was different than when he'd left. Higher. Heavier. The System tracking changes that went beyond simple statistics.
He was becoming the thing they needed him to be.
And losing track of what he'd been in the process.
The throne room was empty except for one figure.
Lilith stood before her obsidian throne, not sitting on it. Her snow-white hair caught the torchlight, making her seem almost ethereal despite the very real power she commanded.
The crown of black horns tipped with crimson marked her as sovereign.
But her violet eyes marked her as desperate.
They studied each other across the expanse of polished stone. Queen and weapon. Summoner and summoned. Two performers who'd both forgotten where the act ended and reality began.
"Lord Azra." Her voice was carefully neutral. "Welcome back."
"Your Majesty." The title felt different on his tongue now. More real. More acknowledgment of what she'd sacrificed to put him here.
"I've read the reports. Seven outposts secured. The Radiant Empire in full retreat. Ashard stabilized for the first time in three years." She descended the steps slowly, each movement measured. "You've exceeded even my most optimistic projections."
"I did what was necessary."
"You did what was impossible." Lilith stopped five paces away. Close enough to speak quietly, far enough to maintain this pretense of formality. "Grand Commander Orin was one of their best. Killing him should have been beyond your capability."
"It nearly was."
"But you succeeded anyway. Using methods that..." She hesitated. "The reports mention Hell's gates opening. An entity that required divine intervention to combat. Witnesses claiming they saw something that shouldn't exist."
Her violet eyes searched his grey ones.
"What did you summon, Liam?"
The use of his real name was deliberate.
A reminder that she knew what he was beneath the performance. That they'd started this deception together.
"Something that took more than magic to call." His voice was that wrong, ancient thing. The voice that barely remembered belonging to Liam Cross. "Something that required payment in pieces of identity I didn't know I still had."
She already knew that much, she knew exactly what he called and the price for calling it.
"How much of your self is left."
"Two percent." He delivered the number without emotion. "Everything else burned away as payment for power needed to survive."
Lilith's expression flickered. Something that might have been sympathy or maybe recognition of consequences she'd known were coming.
"I'm sorry."
"Are you?" The question wasn't accusatory. Just curious. "You summoned me knowing this was possible. Knowing that becoming what you needed would cost what I was."
"I knew it was possible. I didn't know it was certain." She moved closer. "I didn't know the war would demand so much. That survival would require you to sacrifice everything that made the performance bearable."
"And if you had known?"
Lilith met his eyes directly.
"I would have summoned you anyway. Because the alternative was dire. Because two percent of yourself is better than total annihilation of my species."
Her honesty was brutal.
"I'm sorry that saving us cost you yourself. But I'm not sorry that I'm not sorry i tried. Even if it killed who you were."
The words hung between them like a verdict.
She spoke plainly now - she didn't speak like his summoning was only meant to keep her crown, did she know he knew the truth now?
He wondered.
Liam should have been angry. Should have felt betrayed. Should have raged against being used and discarded and transformed into something unrecognizable.
But the two percent that remained didn't have the energy for anger.
And the ninety-eight percent that had become something else didn't see the point.
"Gorath told me about the prophecy," he said quietly.
Lilith's expression went carefully blank.
"Did he."
"The Twenty-One Heroes. The ordained genocide. The reason you started a war you knew was risky." His grey eyes, flickering crimson at the edges, studied her face. "He told me everything your father died protecting you from. Everything you've been fighting against for ten years. The tragic backstory you refused to tell me in that dungeon."
She took a breath.
"Then you understand why I did it. Why I had to act. Why waiting for certain death wasn't an option."
"I understand you gambled and lost. That the war you started to save the empire accelerated its destruction instead." His voice was flat. "I understand that every demon who died in the last three years died because you miscalculated."
Lilith flinched. Just slightly. But enough to be noticed.
"Yes."
"And I understand why you kept it from me. Why you let me think the war was just about territory and pride and your crown." He stepped closer. "Because telling me it was a suicide mission would have made me refuse. Would have broken the performance before it began."
"Yes."
They were three paces apart now.
Close enough to feel the power radiating from each other.
Queen and demon god.
Both wearing crowns that weighed more than stone.
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