Oromius sits with Astraoth in his lap, reading him a thick book-the history of their world contained within. "And so Astraoth, the source of the world's creation is still unknown. What we do know is that there are remnants of the event that caused the world's creation. These artifacts are dubbed "Fragments of Creation" and there are one-hundred of them. The strongest of these were forged into the Divine Thrones by the gods themselves.

There are six Divine Thrones, three of the light and three of the dark. Of the three Darkness Divine Thrones, there are two representing Dark Lords, and one representing the Monarch of Darkness. This is the Twilight Throne, and it will one day be yours, assuming you can reawaken it and conquer one of the two strongest objects in all existence. The Light Divine Thrones are much the same..."

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The crimson red moon stares down at the ruined earth; darkness bathes the world in black under its eternal sentry. Astraoth walks underneath its gaze, feeling the night's darkness awaken within him the vestiges of true power. The abyss' black depths twist and contort as Astraoth walks beyond them, the crimson moonlight guiding his descent into the night.

In his wake, Astraoth leaves only the demonic winds of the world's fiercest storm, remnants of the hellish winds that can freeze ice or burn fire. These dark winds bend and deform and corrupt even the deepest abyss, transforming light into darkness and joy into fear.

The night's creations scatter and flee in sight of this demonic power, leaving Astraoth alone under the blood moon. He steps forward, sending ripples of darkness through the abyss.

The abyss disappears under the prince of the night's power, revealing a lonely path, gilded in nightmare and evil. Astraoth steps forward, onto the path to the Spirit Realm's Corrupted Throne.

Astraoth descends further into the night, disappearing fully into the looming shadow.

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Soon Astraoth stands before a new challenge; a giant skeleton of a wolf-man sits atop a decaying throne, towering over Astraoth. The skeleton's bones are yellow-black and ancient; the throne is a darkened violet, with black shadows and corrosion whispering around it. A wave of dark energy blasts towards Astraoth, attempting to flood into him, invading even the Origin Egg in hand.

Astraoth's full demonic power bursts out as the corruption attempts invasion, easily repelling the would-be invader.

Astraoth looks upon the Corrupted Throne and its master, facing the Dark Lord without hesitation.

The skeleton speaks, " Welcome to my domain, boy. I remember you...no, I remember your kin. What are you here for, I wonder?"

Astraoth responds," I am here to meet your king."

"Interesting...you mean to see the king? Hmm...I wonder- why would you expect me to let you see the king?"

"I don't expect you to let me see him willingly, but I have a feeling you're going to do it anyway..."

The skeleton towers over Astraoth, and with every passing moment, he only seems to increase in size.

"And how, pray tell, would this happen? How can you make me release you?"

Though Astraoth can only look up at the Dark Lord, he faces the being without fear.

"I don't need to make you release me. You'll do it without me moving a finger."

"Why would I help you, boy?"

"I have three reasons you'll let me go: One, you don't have complete confidence in killing me, because touching me might cause a certain estate's counterattack; Two, you remember my family, and because you do, you know what happens when my family is slighted; Three, the darkness within me is beyond even your conception, and disobeying your prince is a capital offense.

The skeleton's withered throne glows with an evil gleam. The stagnant air within the room grows thick with the stench of corruption. The Dark Lord looms over Astraoth, eyes filled with rage and killing intent.

"Prince? What farce is this? I have no lord or master besides the Spirit King."

Astraoth glares back, apathetic yet supremely confident," You have more than one master. Surely a Dark Lord does not presume himself above the future King of Darkness."

"I am master of the Corrupted Throne. You are a boy with delusions of grandeur."

"I am no mere boy; you should know my family and my history. After the end of my last trial, I will be the successor to Dracul Mephilius and heir to the Twilight Throne."

Upon the mere mention of 'Dracul Mephilius', the skeleton seems to shrink in his seat; his gigantic frame grows small, and the Dark Lord grows instantly silent.

" I will let you pass, but not because I hesitate to kill you. Dracul Mephilius is one I can only admit inferiority to. You, however, are merely a remnant of her, not even a fraction of her greatness. With a finger, I could wipe you out of existence. But perhaps you may one day be powerful. To this end, I grant you your life. Go visit the Spirit King. Maybe you'll even survive the meeting."

Astraoth calls upon his demonic power, and reaches out to the thick darkness around him; shadows curl and distort around his hand. Astraoth turns around, and the light of the blood moon shines upon him, through the inky blackness permeating through the air. Astraoth walks forward, out of the Dark Lord's lair.

The moonlight guides his way forward, but it too can only bend under his will. Astraoth holds the moon's crimson light, joining it with the darkness and demonic power collected in his hand. A new circuit begins again, flowing from his hand to the egg. The current of energy flows to his Dantian then travels out, to his hand. The cycle thus begins anew.

Astraoth, finally out of the Corrupted Throne's reach, lets his tension go and relaxes. Still, he knows what he will have to do soon. Astraoth looks to the sky, seeing only a bright crimson moon among endless black. His eyes sharpen once more into a deep blood red, and he turns around, heading to the Spirit King, ready for the Spirit King's test- ready for the time of his ascension.