With a low grunt, Styx landed heavily on the floor, kicking up a large amount of dust. She had appeared standing under the hole in the ceiling, closest to where the Demon Lord was imprisoned like she had done for centuries, though this time, every fibre of her being was pleading for her to be anywhere but there.

As her vision was not the same as traditional beings, the dust and darkness did not hinder her as she glanced around the dark room, sucking in a deep breath and tensing when her gaze fell on the demonic throne.

"Welcome to my parlour, said the spider to the fly." The hero's voice, laced with malice, echoed around the chamber.

Before Styx could move, a bright, white light erupted around her as a pentagram sprang to life under her. Feeling almost all of her strength leaving her body, Styx fell to her knees, beads of sweat running down her mask-like face.

Although the light dimmed significantly, it was still enough to light up the room, casting haunting shadows on the walls from the debris and crumbling remains scattered across the floor.

Illuminated by the formations light, slouching on the demon lords throne, one leg over the armrest as he held up a black skull, a single horn sticking out of its left side, lounged the hero. "You were just in time; the conversation was getting a little boring with my friend here. Alas, he is no Horatio, even though I knew him well."

The hero chuckled at his joke as he dropped the skull, crashing into a pile of black bones, small clumps of rotting flesh and sinew still attached, sending them skittering across the floor. "Why are you here Styx? Although I lost track of time God knows when, unless the seasons have drastically changed, you are early."

Styx had gained enough experience in her long life not to be shocked by much, but what she saw was beyond belief and caused her mind to grind to a halt as she attempted to work out what was going on.

A magical array capable of sealing a spirit type entity, the absence of the Divine Spears, capable of imprisoning a god, the seemingly brutal death and consumption of the Demon Lord, whose flesh was known to be incredibly poisonous and his missing demonic essence. There were too many questions, and nearly no answers, Each more baffling than the last. She didn't know where to begin or what to do. Styx even caught herself, suspecting that this could be a dream.

Shaking her head, Styx eliminated the thought. This was no dream, not even a nightmare, and even entertaining the idea was wasting valuable seconds that she did not have.

"A word of advice from someone who has experienced one for a long time, little demigod. It's hard to wake from a nightmare when it's real," smirked the hero as he lazily stretched, seemingly in no rush.

Luckily for Styx, this wasn't the most shocking thing that had happened to her tonight, that being when she discovered that her memories had been tampered with, and so she quickly regained her senses. "Why am I still alive. You may be a sadistic bastard at times, but you were never one to prolong the kill."

Styx shivered, as she remembered the kind of man that was standing before her. He was the best ally you could ever dream to have if you were fortunate enough to earn his favour or for him to be in your debt, but as an enemy, or even an innocent bystander, he could become your worst nightmare.

During her time watching over them, Styx had discovered that out of all the summoned heroes, there was only one the Late Demon Lord feared and respected in equal measure, and he now sat before her, on his defeated foes throne, looking down at her if she was nothing more than a slight inconvenience.

Still, Styx didn't lose focus. She knew she was alive for a reason and hoped that whatever it was, it would buy enough time for the other demigods to arrive.

"I always liked you Styx. You're a coward when it comes to a fight, but you're quick on the uptake, and your schemes are quite straight forward." The hero unhooked his leg and sat up straight, his predatory gaze falling on the kneeling soul eater. "So let's get down to it, shall we? How did you know?"

The hero's question was ambiguous, but she instantly knew what he meant. He wanted information and Styx internally sighed with relief feeling this was the best outcome she could hope for in this situation.

She held no delusions that he was going to forgive her for being one of the main perpetrators of his imprisonment and let her walk away scot free but even so, knowing she wasn't going to die a dog's death was some comfort.

If Styx could smile, she would be grinning like a madwoman about now. The world had changed so much since the time of the hero, and he was an inquisitive soul. She was almost sure she could keep him occupied until the others arrived. Not only that, she might be able to get some of her questions answered if she played it right. Whatever the hero had done to escape the Divine Spears or erase his name, was sure to be valuable information that if she survived, would secure her future.

Not wanting to appear too eager, she scanned the room to try and glean more information, becoming more shocked with each passing moment. The room had more magical formations carved into it than the fortress in the Alliance capital. Mostly were advanced offensive and defensive arrays, but many were too complicated, even for her extensive knowledge, to understand. The implications that he could use formation magic more advanced than her sent a chill down Styx's non-existent spine as despair gnawed at her insides.

The next shocking thing was that the hero appeared to be nearly recovered. A faint scar ran down the side of his face and the gaps in his armour no longer revealed bone and flesh, but pale skin.

Styx once again found herself at a loss. How did she know he was injured? Even though she was looking at him, the man in front of her had the appearance of a stranger. If it weren't for the sound of his voice, she would not think it was the same man.

Trying to recall what the hero looked like, she felt a sharp pain in her head. Every memory of him was vivid, being a spiritual being her memories didn't degrade like other races, but his face was always a blur. She could remember his voice, his actions, even the annoying way he would down his drinks but every detail about his face was gone, just like anything that described him or his name in the documents.

Turning her head to the hero, who now was resting his head on his knuckles, watching the soul eater with interest, waiting for her reply, Styx tried to control her shaky voice and redirect the conversation. "Do you think I am foolish enough to say anything to you or have you forgotten one of your many titles, Inquisitor?"

A smile appeared on the hero's face. "Interesting, so you are trying to buy time and suggest that you remember everything while remaining vague. Even more surprising, you are trying to find out if what I have done has affected my memory. Yes I know I am admitting that I have done something, and it has affected your memory, but my next questions would make that obvious, so it's pointless to hide."

The hero chuckled, leaning back into his chair. "You have come a long way, Soul Eater. Shame you are as predictable as ever. With the old gods gone and the sensitive nature of your mission, I guess you alerted the other Demigods who are rushing here at this very instant, not even knowing what the situation is? Idiots, the lot of you."

Styx didn't move a muscle, completely locking down her body in an attempt not to reveal anything.

"So they are." Even without her response, the hero seemed to get his answer."Also, the fact that you did a double take of me and then looked to where I had been imprisoned means that at least some of the spell worked." The hero released a deep breath as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Suddenly he started laughing, throwing his head back as his voice resonated around the large room. It hurt his vocal cords, being the first time he had laughed in such a long time. "Who would have thought an idea I got from a fantasy book in my old world would be so effective?"

Eventually, he calmed down and, wiping a tear from his eye, faced Styx. "Say my name."

Styx remained motionless.

The hero moved onto another question. "What did I look like before?"

Again, Styx didn't respond. She knew that although she was purposefully keeping quiet, these questions were so easy and obvious that if she didn't answer them, she was confirming his assumptions. Yet, to answer them incorrectly would be doing the same. Her only hope was that if she remained silent for all of them in the hope that he wouldn't be able to assert which were true and which weren't.

The hero swept his arm outwards. "Can you tell me what happened here?"

The heroes penetrating gaze locked onto Styx, causing to forget her previous decision momentarily. "The eleven her-"

Styx was furious with herself for starting to answer but even more worried about what she had almost said. The moment the first few words had left her mouth, she knew it was wrong. Her memories told her that eleven hero's had sacrificed their lives to imprison the demon lord but in contradiction to that memory, was the hero standing in front of her. She knew him; she knew he was a summoned hero, but for some reason, Styx didn't count him when she recalled the story. It was as if two opposing memories had been overlayed. One where eleven heroes lost their lives to defeat the Demon Lord. The other where eleven died, and one survived.

The hero had been watching her intensely, and even though she had no features to reveal tells, it appeared that he could sense what she was thinking.

With a loud breath, he stood up. "Time to go big, or go home."

Grabbing the black collar around his neck with both hands, the hero started pulling in different directions.

Styx was shocked, though the owners could remove a collar, a slave would never be able to, especially a black obsidian one. If they attempted it, it would incapacitate them or worse; it would shatter their soul leaving them nothing more than a living doll.

Slave collars used an ancient magic that utilised the name given to the soul of an individual, also known as their god given name.

A sentient being could only be enslaved by another if their soul name was known, which surprisingly, was more common than not. If an individual wanted to use high tier spells and magic, they had to invoke their soul's power by using their name and link it to one of the old gods in a chant. No one knew the reason why, it just seemed to work, and people had come to think of it as common sense.

Due to this, using high-level spells in front of your enemies, or even people of a suspicious nature was extremely risky, but it was a seen as something unavoidable.

Suddenly, one of the pieces of the puzzle fitted together, and Styx couldn't help but speak aloud. "Your god given na-"

With a loud crack, the collar shattered and turned to dust, enabling the hero to rub his neck, an unarguably large grin appearing on his face.

"You erased your name so that you could escape the collar," stated Styx. She was worried that her usefulness was now over as he obviously was using her to gain information about how effective his spell was as, after all, he had no access to the outside world. "You escaped the Divine Spears, used some kind of magic to erase memories linked to you but you are not free yet."

A sad look flashed across the hero's eyes. "How can you escape something that can imprison a god?"

Ignoring his question, Styx used her vision to analyse the hero's energy, determined to find a way to foil his plans. If she were going to die, then she wouldn't make it easy.

Her voice shattered the silence, a hint of triumph in its tone. "You cannot escape the Emperors barrier. It might not be as strong as the spears, but with your current power, even if you were to absorb my life essence, it wouldn't be enough."

She knew she was being confrontational, and she knew it was a bad idea, but if any of her memories about the hero were true, she knew how easy it was to goad him into an argument which might buy her a bit more time. However, against her expectation, the hero continued to smile. "Of course not. To break this barrier, I would need the energy of at least eight demigods. It's such a shame there are only nine in the world, including you, and that they are so far away, spread out across the world. It's not like they would all rush here and offer up their lives if I sent out an invitation is it?"

Styx blood ran cold as the hero's smile vanished, replaced with an emotionless mask. "You will never get away with it! Hundreds of thousands will be caught in the blast, and all of the religions of the world will turn against you, not just the alliance. You may have the upper hand here due to all your formations and spells, but when that is gone, you are nothing more than a mortal, and all mortals can be killed."

"Even gods can die." The hero chuckled before mumbling something about going from hero to villain.

Styx was getting desperate, praying to the old gods that the others would hurry up or better yet, not come. If he was as prepared for them as he had been for her, then it wasn't impossible for him to win, even with the vast difference in their strengths. He had beaten far worse odds in his time, and he had centuries to plan. They were rushing without thinking about the possibility that it was what he wanted.

Another title that had been bestowed upon him by the masses surfaced in her mind, one she wished had remained forgotten, Death's Orchestrator.

"Why would they turn against me?" The hero didn't seem affected by her threats, in fact, he seemed amused.

"Because they will know it was you." Even as she spoke the words, her heart sank. It now made sense why the memories of not just his name, but his looks and even the sealing event had been changed. Though the others vaguely knew of him, the only people that remained who had any significant knowledge were her and the Demon Lord, who was now nothing more than a pile of bones.

Her head dropped. The more she thought about it, the more she realised that the chances of her surviving the night were almost non-existent. "So, what will the forgotten hero do when he escapes? Seek revenge on the world that imprisoned him?"

"The forgotten hero," mused the hero. "I quite like that. Shame it can't be used as a title."

The hero started to walk towards Styx slowly. "There was a time where I wanted to burn this entire world to the ground at the injustice against me, and my fellow summoned but now," his footsteps paused, just outside the magical array. "I just want to be free. To be able to taste food, to drink once again and feel the wind upon my skin. The simple things in life are wasted on those who do not appreciate their value."

Styx was confused, was this really the same man from her memories. "I am asking what happens after you escape the barrier?"

The hero sighed and slowly raised his right hand outwards. Abruptly a black liquid erupted from small holes in his hand, forming a spear that she knew all too well, blue runes flickering across its surface. The whole process took less than the blink of an eye, but for Styx, with her enhanced senses, she saw everything. Though she had once again seen the impossible, she wasn't shocked.

Styx shoulders hunched in defeat, she looked up at the hero, no devil, that stood before her, his eyes now glowing in an ominous blue. "I somehow always knew that going against you would get me killed. Some part of me wanted to believe the Demon Lord would get you first, the other than you would be trapped here for all eternity but now, I know I was just fooling myself. You were always a monster in a human's skin, and I am just surprised it took me this long to realise. What was that saying you always use to say at times like this? You know, before you... end it."

She knew what it was, but she felt her voice cracking.

"You can be a king or a street sweeper, but everyone dances with the grim reaper," chuckled the hero darkly, "but I am afraid, you are going to have to disappoint him for the moment. There is another phrase that suits this situation much better. No good deed goes unpunished, and unfortunately for you, yours is that your behaviour gave me enough of a warning that something was up. Well, that and I have a better use for you."