Perceptions seared amid swirling flames that ripped at her essence. The vortex of power that engulfed her ground her down with pure Pain. It wracked her body as it crashed its way along in an endless loop. The memories of all her old pains, burned and ripped flesh alike, seemed to mock her with the shallowness of that prior suffering.

Has it even been a second?

Each moment promised to stretch on into eternity, though she recognised them as the mere instant they were. The knowledge didn't ease her suffering, as she felt a rising dread for the turn of time. Agony compressed itself into her flesh repeatedly. Waves of fiery torment smashed against her, each trying to leave only shattered pieces behind.

The Ocean kills, yet also feeds; one does not command the Ocean.

Part of her wanted to blackout; beg for oblivion to swallow her whole again. Yet the pain allowed no release; instead, it strove to sharpen her perceptions. Slicing every instant across that sharpening awareness before lovingly etching torment into her mind.

I didn't command the Ki, but I didn't want it to swallow me.

Pain became an all-consuming blaze trying to devour her whole. With each cycle, it somehow found more to burn within her. The vortex of power continually tossed Julia around within the malicious inferno, driving the flames higher as if they sought to burn her sense of self away.

A leaf in the wind.

Senseless and helpless laughter lit up her Soul against the pain. Lit a path in a way the flames never could; and in that light with a beckoning Soul, she surrendered to the Ki. Feeling the power and peace of it sweep through her; its cool essence blotted out the pain and stilled the inferno within.

In the dream, she had been floating in the calmest of waters, so sweet. Drifting weightless one with the world, in a place where no concerns intruded.

Yet as her senses returned to her, the smell of the rancid water slithered across her perception. Pressure crashed down, an uneven pain that was a mere silken caress compared to what she had known. The pressure turned and pushed her under, and mortal 'habit' seemed no more, as no desire to breathe stirred.

The pressure against bare flesh soon started her upwards in a rolling motion. Lifted into the air, the foul water grudgingly cascaded off her skin. Her weight was supported by a meshwork of cruelly cobbled wires that seemed intended to dig into vulnerable flesh. The recognition of sensation added to her distant confusion as the wires promised injury yet seemed unable to harm.

"Watch the scoop; there is more than a husk within."

She understood the words sounded by the deep voice, yet the acidic tones of Abyssal elicited no revulsion within her mind.

"No thoughts within that shell. Keep on."

[Demonic Tier Progression Completed

Least Succubus successfully ascended to Lesser Succubus.

Excess demonic shard energy converted.

Resistance: Fire has progressed to Fire - Immune.

Resistance: Poison - Minor unlocked.

Resistance: Electricity - Minor unlocked.

Power: Detect Thoughts evolved to Telepathy

Power: Translate Languages Unlocked

Acting Unlocked.

Acting gained 8 points from ascending to Lesser Succubus.

Acting (1 -> 9)

Bluff Unlocked.

Bluff gained 8 points from ascending to Lesser Succubus.

Bluff (1 -> 9)

Seduction Unlocked.

Seduction gained 10 points from ascending to Lesser Succubus.

Seduction (1 -> 11)

Abyssal Lore gained 12 points from ascending to Lesser Succubus.

Stealth gained 12 points from ascending to Lesser Succubus.

Haggling gained 12 points from ascending to Lesser Succubus.

200 Additional Demonic essence shards converted

20 Attribute points added to Unallocated count, 23 are currently awaiting allocation.

Demonic Faction: Unbound

Progression transfer to the Unbound home plane of Hrz'Styrn completed.

Single home plane option detected - home plane Culerzic.

Alert: Destruction of your demonic form will cause banishment and a century's imprisonment on Culerzic, as no other planar option available.

Ascending adjustments completed.]

An awareness that had eluded her finally snapped into focus as the 'ping' of the notification completed. Once again, she looked at a strange sky, unlike any she'd seen prior. Instead of roiling flames, smog or crystal blue, the sky looked as if someone had spilled a tide of blood across it an age ago. The gore of it long since dried to a clotted red with blackness laced through. A single red orb burned sullenly; as if reluctant to illuminate whatever might occur in this place.

The surface under her angled and snapped forward, throwing her and its other cargo into the open air. Reflex from the climb set her to Flight, even before her perceptions took in any surrounding details. As momentum spun her in the air, her activated Flight worked to arrest it with no guidance, yet not before her gaze passed over the platform that had borne her aloft. Twisted together from rough metal pieces, as if a gothic torturer had designed a dredge. Barbed wire formed the net's body, hung from the scoops, with arms rotating on a lopsided structure. As her spin ceased, Flight held her still and motionless, high over a river in which countless bodies floated like logs.

The machinery that had lifted her just one among an erratic host lined along the bank to scoop them out. The cool air on her skin beckoned attention to her now naked state, yet there was no cringe or even awareness rising in concern. Instead, her attention became focused on the reaction from below that her sudden stop of expected motion had drawn. The gaze of demons — by the dozen — raised to watch her; as the unexpected baited their eyes like a falcon's drawn to a darting rabbit. She shrugged aside the voice within that prompted her to change.

Vague concerns of safety, not modesty, stirred within and caused eyes to change into obsidian orbs; and facial muscles froze as if poisoned with Botox. She felt a vague distraction of shame, yet her alabaster skin refused to darken as the eyes roamed about flesh. The work crew observing her were a mixed bag ranging from merely thuggish to cthulhu'ish monstrous.

Gross distortions of humanity worked beside things that looked as if they were scarring even the Abyss with their existence. Either the trip through the inferno had burnt them to ash or something else pinned her emotions to a mental glacier. Her attention focused beyond the horrors; she willed herself to drift on and land nearby as if there was nothing to hide.

No straight jacket. Have I changed so much? Why? How am I so numbed?

A large Dretch followed in the wake of a humanoid demon, obvious in their intended interception. Deep inside her, she still felt glad for the clothes this Dretch wore. Its mass clad in crude thick leathers, stitch as they were with coarse thread and blocky boots. Its clothing was as rough in appearance as the rest of it. The bulky body thumped along with scarred and twisted features, hosted emptied eyes that rang with hate.

The other demon contrasted it, lean rather than heavy, it seemed the cliche leader. Clothes obviously better made, but weirdly patterned.

{{A tracksuit is better than stitched rags. Is he even a mob knucklehead, not even made yet? Just a petty thief? Too low to get work in the city. Instead, out on this stinking river hauling corpses.}}

The words unheard by her awareness probed her imagination to throw up images from the Soprano's - the nephew scrambling to get made but shown repeatedly how low he really rates. The sheer pettiness made her consider the Demon properly to gain a proper understanding of what she faced. What skin she could see looked covered in thick ridged scales, though spikes spotted the scales. The balanced way it carried itself made it seem poised to leap at any moment.

Turning her now obsidian gaze in their direction, she activated Analysis on each.

[Demon: Dretch

Level: 4 / 4 / 2

Class: Thug / Warrior

Health: 120

Mana: 0

Defence: 40

Melee Attack Power: 50

Combat Skills: Smash [B] (15), Grapple [B] (18), Mace [Ap] (16)]

[Demon: Cambion ( Spine Demon)

Level: 8

Class: Hunter

Health: 80

Mana: 5

Defence: 40

Melee Attack Power: 42

Combat Skills: Bow [Ap] (2), Knife [Ap] (1), Hand Axe [J](5), Claws [J] 8

Details: Cambion are crossbred between mortal and demonic species; when the mother is mortal, it invariably dies. ]

{{They look like schoolyard bullies, coming to steal my lunch money.}}

Random thoughts crossed her mind at the whisper deep within, even though it went unheard by conscious awareness. A scene from a cartoon where a bully held a kid by their ankles to shake out coins flickered in her imagination. Setting down, she waited for them to close the distance; the other demons returned to their work of shifting the waterlogged bodies into wagons. Splatters sounded out as the scoops continued to toss more to shore and disinterested hands threw them into wagons.

The cambion stopped about four metres from her. As it halted, its eyes flickered hungrily over her from head to toe repeatedly before it finally met her gaze.

"How is it you are Unbound Succubus?"

{{Oh yeah, it's looking to score. Implying authority to question when it has no right. No word of who he serves. Not only factionless, but not protected. Yeah, he's nothing and knows it. This is a shakedown for spare change. It is so ugly. The Dretch looks better than it.}}

She wasn't sure if the snarling tone was how it always spoke, or if it was merely baiting her.

"Does it matter? I'm here now and serving no one. Isn't this the home of the Unbound? Or do you make a claim to control those here?"

"Don't stir trouble here, bitch. Answer my questions; we know you sluts are spies."

{{It's a labourer; this sure isn't a border crossing. Still, perhaps something watches crews. Distract. Oh delicacy, goodness.}}

"Here seeking to trade, not to spy," Julia stated, the detached tone of her voice bringing a sneer in return.

"Whores can always ply their trade on the west side, inner ring."

{{Looks like he'd hire the cheapest ones, or does he rent himself out as a prick?}}

"I'm sure you'd know a lot about that trade," said Julia, with a smile that made the cold obsidian of her eyes seem warm.

He didn't get her tone and merely grunted as lust replaced the anger in his eyes.

{{He so wants us. He can't take his eyes off my breasts. They are just flesh get over it halfbreed.}}

Need to reduce the snark, fugly thinks it's flirty.

{{Or flirt more and keep it off balance.}}

"The Ka'larg didn't sense your mind, Succubus. How do I know that's the truth?"

You're going to get whiplash with your mood swings, mate.

The name prodded at the back of Julia's mind and she felt Abyssal lore spewing information on the serpentine telepaths.

{{Why the fuck do we care? It's just here to look for prey; we're not prey. A question?

Make him think and let it hurt his little brain. Likely more sense in his cock than his brain.}}

"Does us both possessing Telepathy let us block each other?" asked Julia, opting to answer a question with a question. "Not like I'd want to let someone in on my secrets. Or do you tell others everything?"

The cambion stopped and flicked a questioning glance towards a raised platform. Unfortunately, the appearance of the thing matched what the Abyssal lore had provided. It was grotesque, and even though it wasn't the worst of their crew, part of Julia was glad enough it had stayed back.

Blackish ichor flowed down its flayed flesh in slow continual streams. Ever shifting pathways that caused oily lines to shine among its exposed muscles and tendons. The worst of it to Julia was how the petal-like glands along the surface of its breasts appeared; they gathered and let the Ichor fall like poisoned milk from its teats. It was a mockery of motherhood, as it seemed to lactate, and express poison into every moment it existed.

{{He does not know. Where's your milk money, girlie? Hand it over.

And that thing. How ugly. Never mind a paper bag, she'd need to bend in front of a hole in a wall, and still pay for sex. Let's bait this fucker. If he doesn't mention any official, then it's only a street shakedown.}}

Health full, Ki Full, remember demon's only respect strength. The Weak are prey.

{{We could kill them both. Kill or bribe}}

See if he mentions trade tariff or some demon version.

Julia started cycling Ki through her and felt the usual veneer forming over its power.

"That aside, I am here to trade. See?" inquired Julia, as she stretched out a hand.

A Lurker gland appeared on her palm, and she saw the Cambion's nostrils twitch at the scent.

"Lurker flesh is a worthy trade. Give it to me," growled the Cambion, his hands curling into fists.

{{Greed in his eyes. It must be worth much more than he gets here. Look at the tongue twitch on teeth. Much more. It's mine, not his. Mine.}}

"No," Julia declared, the word edged in frost that echoed within.

"Now."

{{Bully boy thug. Let's kill it?}}

"That is not a trade."

"I'll.."

{{THREATEN ME. KILL IT!!! GUT IT!!!}}

The whispering thoughts trickling in her subconscious triggered a physical reaction. The shift in Julia's balance and sudden growth of claws was enough to freeze it in place.

"So do I need to gut you {{halfbreed}},"

The malice dripped off the last word, as her instincts used a low variant of the term. The implication that he was the spawned from a mortal beast, rather than a sentient race.

Wow, I think I just said his mum fucked a dog, or maybe a large rat, and he came out. This language is seriously messed up; one word implies so much contempt. Why did I pick that phrasing? Need to understand the languages jammed in my head.

Ensure more than just added reflex picking the translation used.

[Bluff (9 -> 10)

Intimidate (1 -> 2)]

{{It should bow to me.}}

"You need to leave now."

{{What a whelp. It has a tail between its legs to hide its lack of even a twig. It means nothing, need to move on.}}

"Whatever."

She lifted upwards with Flight alone, keeping her wings folded on her back. Keeping her attention focused on the Cambion and its thug. Angling to keep them both in sight till she was clear, heading in the road's direction she'd seen. Picking the same direction as a loaded wagon, rose lifted higher and pushed her speed upwards.

At least I can fly better than the American superhero.

The cool air prompted her to imagine a new chitin form, and she let it grow to guard her. Quickly finishing the limited transformation that removed her wings and added an armoured bodysuit. The military camouflage discarded as she opted for an appearance like dried blood. Sharp angles of chitin, set to deflect as best she could image, appeared over it angled and cruel. The effect would unsettle a normal person, but somehow she missed it.

[Flight [B](10 -> 11)]

At last, she came in sight of the city, and its visage pierced the numbness that had formed within. Walls and banners fashioned of stretched skin stood behind massive barriers of bones encased in ashen mana. Even without trying, the power infused in them spoke of the Souls bound and tortured within.