"Holy crap, what the fuck did I read..."
Aghast at what he read, Scaramond slowly backed off, unable to comprehend the horrific story laid in front of him. "So, the Demon King everyone hates...turned out to be a reincarnator we sent to another world? And he somehow managed to gain a terrifying weapon capable of bending the wills and minds of those around him? What the fuck is going on around here!?"
Murmurs could be heard coming from behind him, as the party began whispering to each other, trying to comprehend what the great companion of the hero was saying. "Um, great sir, what are you talking about? Is it something to do with the Demon King? If so–"
"Nah, it's just some gibberish written by a madman close to death. No need to worry about it..."
Interrupting the curious mage, Knoxis glared at Scaramond from the corner of his eye, urging him to shut his trap. Finally realising the severity of the situation, Scaramond decided to play his Oscar-level script (well, at least in his eyes).
"Yep, just some random-old gibberish written by some 'Elf'–"
"But my lord, we do have legends of Elves living here a long time ago."
"Ahahahah! You think I didn't know!? I was just testing you! (I should've taken the chance to go to the improv school when Bai Mei gave me an all-paid course...)"
Resisting the urge to slap his face, Knoxis steered his face towards the rest of the Adventurers, squirming vehemently inside. Damn him! Didn't the 250 Razzies teach him that he knows jack-shit about acting!? Couldn't that little turd jus–
"Hey, I just remembered–
Don't rooms of this type usually have guardians guarding the doorway...?"
––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
Deep inside in what is now identified as the Dark Matter Reactor research institute, a large steel door is seen closed shut, its dark surface reflecting the few strands of light that managed to seep in. Though it stood tall, pits and scratches could be seen adorned all over its body, a testament of the many battles and sieges it had withstood over its long life. A door like this should evoke a sense of danger, a sense of foreboding...
But it was the opposite instead
Behind the iron barrier, instead of the usual glass chambers and gigantic arms, lay a humongous bed, filled with black roses and daisies. Perched upon the silky, satiny sheets, with her jade-like feet exposed, was the very incarnation of Venus herself:
Eyes redder than the bloodstained shirt of a beheaded girl, skin paler than a decomposing corpse laid underwater for over 10 years, nose sharper than the sharpest of knives, lips blacker than the skin of a black mamba, smiling all the while, teeth whiter than bleached bones
Suddenly,she lifted her head, surprised greatly. Chuckling as soft as the desolate winds of Tarkist, she turned her gaze towards the archives, where a certain group of invaders have just realised that there were no guards patrolling the inner archives.
"Well, well, well, what did that bastard stuck on the throne send to me? Well, no matter, it's too late anyway– let's just treat them as extra snacks:
After all, the central core has reached critical mass..."
Chuckling to herself once more, she turned her attention towards the center ofbthe room, where a giant black sphere is seen rotating, pulsing every so often, lightning flashing every second.
[Critical mass has been reached...]
[Prepare for imminent explosion...]