Meztraxia had watched as the human walked into the heart, expecting her to vanish as many of the demons closest to it already had. As she disappeared from view, he assumed that was precisely what had happened until he heard the heart speak to her. The voice was great and terrible, nothing like the feeble thing that had whispered in his mind. Either the heart was far more powerful here, or this was a different manner of existence entirely from the one he’d known.

After it sent the goddess’ vessel back, or at least claimed to, the voice fell silent. Though it seemed to have no interest in him, despite their prior relationship, hearing it broke him free from his resignation. If the heart was willing to return the girl, then it might be persuaded to do the same for him and his men. He was in no shape to fight anymore, and his broken body likely wouldn’t survive much longer, but if there was a chance of survival for himself and those he’d led here to their doom, then he had to take it.

Stepping into the purple light, he called out to whatever being was out there. “Are you Imistala?”

“I am,” it called back, its voice no less horrible than when it had started speaking.

“And you must know me, who once served you so faithfully.”

“You confuse self-interest with faith, likely a common mistake among demons.” There was a distinct tone of accusation amongst the screeching of Imisatala’s voice.

Meztraxia swallowed, deception would avail him little against this creature. After being joined with him for so long, it likely understood him better than anyone he’d ever known.

“You’re right, I had no interest in whatever your cause was; I was too busy furthering my own. One which you seemed to support, given all the aid you rendered me.”

There was a long pause, during which Meztraxia feared he’d already lost Imistala’s interest, followed by a hollow-eyed man emerging from the light. Though their features and livery clearly marked them as one of his soldiers, he didn’t recognise them.

“I supported you until the moment you were of no further use to me,” the man said.

“Is that it then? You’re content to leave me and mine here to die?” He didn’t expect pity from Imistala, yet he couldn’t help but question such a terrible fate aloud.

“Can you think of a reason why I wouldn’t?”

Certain as he was that the demon before him had nothing to do with Imistala’s true form, their indifference made Meztraxia want to throttle them. “I can still serve you, as can my men. We will do anything you ask of us.”

“Perhaps we should consider his offer,” said another male voice, as a partially transparent image of an old man appeared beside Imistala’s puppet. “There is still much work to be done.”

“I don’t need you to remind me of that, Erstanos,” Imistala said. “We have no need of the demons; they’re too unreliable. Best that we use those who are truly loyal to our cause.”

The old man chuckled. “Perhaps you haven’t been paying attention, but such admirable creatures are in desperately short supply in my world. Fortunately, we have other options available to us. In my view, servants who depend on us completely for their very lives should possess sufficient loyalty.”

“So be it.” The demon turned to Meztraxia. “You will be in my service for a little while longer.”