The rotted wood under Acacius’s feet creaked. Empty metal shelves lined the concrete walls of the room. A single lightbulb dangled from the rafter, emitting a faint luminescence—just enough for him to make out the panting creature sprawled out on the floor.
His Herald stood over it, palm facing down, a transparent, indigo stream emanating from the creature’s cast. Thin, ethereal shackles kept the fakeDaemon in place as it flailed and fought the snare. It wailed in a shrill, piercing cadence.
“How long has it been this way?” Marina asked.
“Hours.” Acacius kneeled beside it, scrutinizing its features: the monstrous, bony mask, split down the middle; the ribbed horns; the fur lining its shoulders; its six angular limbs; the blackened ends of its claws.
It convulsed and jerked as the Herald tightened its hold around the monster, the five holes of its mask aimed directly at them in a desperate plea.
Marina was right. It resembled his Daemon, down to every small, exquisite detail—exceptthe noise that it made. A falsehood without the percussive chattering.
“Well?” Marina kneeled beside him, eyeing the monster.
It was real, but it also wasn’t, an eerily uncanny imitation.
Acacius stuck his hand through the barrier and pressed his thumb forcefully against the middle of the creature’s skull. He injected waves of his divine power into it. Tendrils snaked through its veins, reaching for its bones.
A guttural shriek rang through the room.
Marina winced and covered her ears.
Acacius applied more pressure, his heart thundering in his throat.
He analyzed the feel of its power, turning over the foreign energy like a bristly texture between his fingers. He could confirm that the monster had not been birthed from another deity in his lineage; as a sire to all below him, he would’ve recognized the feel of its Chaos.
Acacius pumped more of his divine power into the being, satisfaction brimming in his chest to see pieces of its skeletal face fracturing at the edges.
More,his Ruin whispered.Until it breaks.
The creature’s body bloated and then burst, crumbling like powder. Its ashy remains puffed up in a mushroom cloud and floated down like the snow outside.
His stomach congealed.
What the fuck?
Acacius glared, his pulse beating furiously through his skull.
He had no explanation for it. The beast was crafted by divine power, but not by a deity like him. Though, it looked exactly like his own Daemon. And yet, slivers of the faintest traces of magic lingered in its skin. Something that, in his long catalog of life, he had never come across.
“I don’t like the look you’re making,” Marina said as she studied the side of him, her worry filling the space between them. “You have no idea what it is, do you?”
He squeezed his hand into a fist, lifting his chin to look over at her. “None at all.” Rage bristled in his blood. Some foolish soul had the audacity to impersonate his Daemon. “But I can assure you that I am going to find out.”
The urge for Chaos tingled in his limbs. The sensation traveled like a drug through his system, and his jaws set to resist its temptation. This situation involved Marina. She had a goal, and if he raised hell now, he could ruin it for her.
The Herald materialized across the room in a sudden rush, alerting Acacius of the footfalls thudding down the steps.
Five individuals.
He whipped his head toward Marina. “We have?—”
She was up on her feet, sending ribbons of her Night across the room to rip his Herald away from the door.
She disappeared, and he heard her fabricate on the other side of the door.
Fuck.
Acacius ripped up and followed.
