From the central spire, the Patriarch and Matriarch of the Lust Demons hovered in the skies.
The Patriarch, a towering incubus with obsidian horns curling upward and skin like polished midnight, radiated fury, his fists clenched so tightly that cracks spread across his flawless flesh.
Beside him, the Matriarch—a succubus of chilling beauty with flowing crimson hair streaked with green and eyes that once overflowed with desire—now burned with cold, murderous rage.
The haze of lust that had shrouded their domain for years was gone, leaving the once most sensual realm in the Higher Realm feeling dead, empty, and wrong.
Behind them, thousands of elders floated in perfect formation—ancient Lust Demons from every sub-branch, their alluring auras twisted into something sharp and dangerous.
Looming behind the assembly stood the Gate, a massive archway of living rose-quartz and black marble sealing the hidden vault where the clan's oldest ancestors slept in eternal ecstasy.
