Gerim was right. There are changes all around from this point, the ape-demons with three-four arms, sometimes a tail and a wing, not to mention the exoskeleton carapace— that’s all part of it.

Haern and I waste no time venturing into the storm. But there’s something different about it— it’s unlike any of the other storms, thicker. The Essence powering the storm makes it difficult to look through, and though the storm doesn’t blister skin its certainly trying to bury us.

Trudging through the layers and dunes of it is an exercise in strength on its own, but I’d say Haern has it harder. He can’t hope to fly in these winds, not unless he wants his wings ripped off his back anyway.

From the little I can make out of the sky, I find that the storm is spiralling— rotating around a fixed point. I have a good guess what that fixed point is.

Since stepping in we’ve been washed over by some oppressive wave of a demon’s Essence, thumping and spreading all over the storm. The effects are…a bit invasive, it’s trying to change something in us, mould us to its will. I don’t feel as strong anymore, fighting off the pressure takes a great deal of Essence. Ambient Essence is also pressured by it, making it into a sludge, heavy and unwilling to be absorbed.

“These demons…they’re all hybrids.” Haern points out, squint at a demon with the lower body of a snake and the top half of a burly red ape.

“Yeah, they’ve been morphed.” Beyond the slithering snake-ape demon hybrid is something else, the best and most obvious sign that I’m on the right track.

A single pillar of light. It’s slightly obscured by all the sand tossed around but that pillar of light, or rather, of Essence has to be the source of all these changes. From where we stand I’m sure it pierces through the desert divides regular clouds— it’s rather daunting.

‘This is what it is…the creation of a…domain.’

I’ve taken to calling the ‘places’ domains now. A much better word, especially fitting for the scale of Essence thrown around to create one.

I don’t think I’d need an expert to tell Morthul’s domain is still in its foetus stage. There’s a ton of Essence whipped about, the sky is pierced by a pillar of it even, but it still pales in comparison to Calridian’s domain.

There isn’t a place Calridian’s influence isn’t felt in the city, his hawking and swirling demons watch everyone from above— a clear threat to anyone daring to go after him. But this? The demon hybrid’s scattered around are weak, the strongest of them would be a Crimson Level 4.

‘Fodder.’

Docile fodder too. These demons are stuck in some kind of trance, Haern often walks up and strangles the life out of them with his chains. They don’t defend themselves.

“This is weird. It doesn’t feel right here.”

“Think it’s too easy right?” Haern says, absorbing yet another Pink. “It might be a trap; you say you’re here to kill the demon behind all this right? He might know someone’s coming after him.”

“Of course, you think you can just add another divide to this layer and not have someone come after you? I don’t believe he’d be that dumb, dumb enough to steal those items but not dumb enough not to prepare for a fall out.”

Haern shrugs, “Think what you want, I’m just saying I’ve met a lot of dumb people. Also, he might be a lot smarter than we think.”

At this I pause, “What do you mean?”

“If he stole the items from Calridian like you said and he was a guard to him, then he probably knew early on that a war with Varks was brewing, likely the same time Calridian did.”

“So?”

Causally ripping an arm off one of the hybrid demons, he takes a bite and says, “So, while everyone was preparing for a war he was preparing to make it out on his own. Maybe he gathered allies or even secured this spot and tamed a few demons to clear it out for his needs. I don’t know, point is…he’s using this war as a distraction.”

I give it some thought and it makes some sense, at least, if I were to give Morthul that much credit in his planning. This can’t be all there is. If he were a guard to Calridian then he wouldn’t be so incompetent to let himself— an aspiring domain holder— to go unguarded.

“Dumb or brilliant, whichever it is let’s keep out guards up, and maybe stop eating?”

“What? If they stop acting stupid they’ll attack us, better they don’t have their arms to do it.” Haern argues.

I roll my eyes, he makes a good point but having to stand his chewing and gorging isn’t what I need right now, “Stop it.”

“Alright, fine. After this one though.”

“Ugh.”

We go on trudging ahead and nothing much changes in the desert. The hybrids remain still, the storm rages and the pillar of Essence draws closer with each step, along with is a great dread at what we’ll find at the centre.

We’re another day into our march when something changes. Without any noticeable switch, the hybrids we come across are far stronger than others. Gleaming Crimson pumps throughout their bodies, and now they hunt.

The Essence is here, closer to the pillar, is thick enough to swish through and incompatible. It gets in no matter what, choking and itching at the surface of skin— burning through and out wherever’s left unguarded. Haern and I have to maintain a rush cycle of Essence pumping throughout every bit of our bodies lest we lose them.

It’s an expensive endeavour, but there are provisions to resupply on Essence if the need arise, provisions Haern takes too quick. Deftly, he slaughters the hybrids focused on hunting the new-borns— cracks of concentrated Essence implode to create new Soul Crystals. The demons attached are identical to Calridian’s mimicry of Morthul, except smaller and not as menacing.

The hybrids, much like last time, offer no resistance to their deaths. I’m grateful that he’s taken to the exercise of it and take the good half of the crystals he reaps to show it.

He grumbles within as usual and we carry on through. The pillar is nearly overhead after about a week of battering and slaughtering but with the crystal buffet we’ve been treated too; I can sense I’m right along the edge of levelling my soul crystal as well.

I can appreciate the pillar of Essence spearing through the clouds as the central array in this whole thing. The pillar is the centre of change, transforming all that was into all that will be. There’s a change in the sands, they aren’t the same as the deserts. Softer, almost turning a kind of soil rather than the barren that is the Desert divide.

I suppose that’s the first thing you’d want to change, the land and the people living on it. The pillar acts towards that effort, but it’s got some ways to go, that’s why the demons here are so docile. It’s given no commands and it hasn’t let them grow a consciousness either. We’re safe, for now.

Though, the further we thread through the sandy soil towards the pillar, the subtler changes in the demons go unnoticed. Their strengths have doubled from before, so has their intelligence. They’ve begun to group themselves and herd one another— I’m not sure if this is an instinctual action or one of the few commands given by the pillar, but it’s disconcerting to have them watch us.

“Are you sure they won’t attack?” Haern says privately, cautious that they’ve developed telepathy strong enough to decrypt open thought.

“They’re demons Haern, of course I’m not sure.”

Their eyes follow us, the shift in their stance as we approach. It’s telling of what’s to come in the next lap of our journey to the centre of the storm.

“I think we should prepare for the next group, if these guys feel hostile then we’re definitely walking into a fight soon.”

Before Haern can respond a low rumbling resounds throughout. We share a look in the eerie silence that follows, then turn to the demons creeping forth, surrounding us.

For all the billowing winds of the storm have come to a halt, sand rains from the sky, bathing and seasoning us before a supper.

‘Fuck.’

Haern’s chain snaps out in an arc wider than I’ve seen, ready and fuelled since we’ve been on guard all this time. He takes the front and I take the back, launching out the Seeker Blade, bursting with Essence. It lodges right in the chest of one of the Morthul-esque demons and I snap my fingers.

The Seeker Blade shoves all the Essence I’d coated it in, injecting the demon with a lethal dose of volatile Essence— blowing it up and showering anything close by with demon shrapnel.

‘Gerim would be proud.’

Near buried in the raining sand, Haern and I have to fight the soil and the demons in an attempt to escape their ambush. There’s a flood of them, so much more than the demons in the vicinity when the change happened.

“I think this is storm-wide, I mean, the pillar-!” I start to tell Haern, slashing across a throat and spearing through a guts.

“I know. It’s all of them, the entire…the entire divide is after us!”

He’s got his escape easier than I have mine. With his wings free, he rips himself of the soil and flaps off to freedom— and the demons leap after his feet, jumping over one another to get a hold of him as he stretches the chains, has them dripping with acid green and corrosive to everything around, myself included.

Hissing at him I don’t have to time to bother shouting at him to watch his attacks— if I don’t dislodge myself soon, my minion will surely abandon me.

The sands, mixed and fused with Essence as thick as that of the pillar— in the dreary light of the Desert divide the pillar is a scar, a scar pumping out demons like it’s overflowing— the power of the pillar’s made the sand as strong and heavy.

Grunting I empower the Seeker Blade again and it’s off whipping through the crowds above me, zipping through throat, crotch, mouth, eye and heart. However, these are demons, vital points aren’t exactly vital anymore.

And so they beat me. Bashing and cracking fists against my [Armoured Form] but relentless in their smashing and with the poor footing the Morthul-esque demons pin me down.

Without mercy or thought for one another, their fists and feet glance my arms, chest and head as much as it glances by one another. The Seeker does its best dropping foes, though to drop them I’ve got to know where their Crystals are and have the Blade dig it out for me. But under this assault I barely know up from down.

The demons closest to my face suddenly slip apart, cut through and melted by a corrosive green sludge. Haern hasn’t abandoned me.

“Are you surprised? You better be!” He hollers down, but I can sense through the brief connection that he too faces troubles. He needs my help as much as I need his.

He slices through another set and I know that’s all the help he can offer because he yelps out loud afterwards. The hybrids have arrived. Apes equipped with wings just as his assault him in the air, pulling him towards oblivion— a reality I’m faced with already.

An arm and a leg free I manage a twist and knock them off. They stumble but don’t stutter with their intent. Back on my feet, the sand turns loose and the apes forge forward. The Seeker Blade swerves a bit, slicing at their ankles and hamstrings. They’ll heal quick if they know what they’re doing, but these demons are still very mindless, there’s little tactic to their attacks other than attack. And so with their feet taken away many sink faster than I do, freeing me of enemies to face off.

Haern plummets but shreds and commits several hybrids to death as he flourishes his chain about him. The enemies atop us are thinning but the surge beyond the horizon, the marching army we passed by on our way are the real threat.

Wriggling my feet out I feed the Seeker Blade with Essence and let it continue ripping out sinew and tendons while I gather the might of my mana for a spell.

“Alhak za!” I start the chant, spreading a coat of mana outward as a dome. “Alhak za!” the dome stretches over us, covering even Haern and the swarm of hybrids.

“Alhak za!” I exclaim and the mana rains down, delivering my illusion to every one within he dome, including Hearn.

Seamlessly as though no spell was cast, the apes and hybrids and even Haern go manic. Their eyes see everyone and thing as an enemy, including themselves. I rush over to Hearn and toss him out of the dome, sparing him the maw of a hybrid.

Letting the Seeker do justice to all, I hurry after Hearn, trying best not to let the sand have me. The pillar of Essence thumps and more demons flood through, but we’re already here.

Goaning, Haern stands as though he’s just woken from sleep. He laments my spell but I’ve tuned him out to gape at the figure below the Dune we stand. It’s Morthul.

“Shut up, that’s the one, the real one. We kill him and we end this madness.”

He mutters something but finds what I’m looking at and sighs, “Sure, but don’t you think we’ll have to beat that golem?”

Morthul hangs at the heart of the pillar of Essence, a blaring red circle sears the sand as demons pour through. A couple meters ahead of him stands a golem, it’s of the same make as all the other apes and hybrids except several feet taller and wider. Its fists alone would take off my head and shoulders and a powerful Blood Orange crystal pumps at its heart.

“Yeah, I see it. That might be a problem.” Just another on the heap.