The Thousands Faces Demon Lord closed his eyes and rolled out his tongue, doubting his acute senses. Whenever Envy tuck that triple-branched green tongue out of his mouth hole, he could see, taste and smell the envy hidden in any living being, mortals or immortals alike.

Sinintee claimed to be the most perfect, and yet the fool did not know that envy coursed through his veins.

Pride, as seemingly perfect and prideful as she was, there was a solid block of envy reside inside her heart.

Lust, as beautiful as she was, there was the glower of envy in her eyes whenever she looked another woman.

Sloth, he was a confusing creature. But envy danced within his mind and accompanied him to his sleep whenever he stared at the red stones and blood colored ground of Kharigan.

Niwdar, that woman was a masterpiece of envy, simply gorgeous painting beyond any expression, truly a Goddess of Beauty.

Even Mistress Death, the Arbiter, colorless and lifeless as she appeared, there was envy lodged within her mind. Hers was the best kind of envy, the kind that oozed out of her body like black mud and thickened with an undiluted tastiness of saltiness and bitterness.

And then, there is URLOX’s chosen one, the great creators’ most prized and beloved champion, the most disturbing creature to ever exist after Wrath. Just like Envy, Wrath came to be without any sexual organ, neither male nor female, and thus unable to reproduce. And, that was the only similarity shared between the two of them. Wrath was a mindless fool, Munezee’s faithful instrument of destruction and terror, and nothing more. Destruction and rage were all Wrath could understand, nothing else, therefore that lack of envy inside him was understandable.

But the Prince, one common designation for two men, two men but one man. They were something else. They made Envy sick to his core with their disturbing smell, their disgusting look, and their nauseating taste. They made Envy doubted his senses.

While Lust and Pride were butting heads and arguing, Envy, the Thousands Faces Demon Lord did not speak so much of a word. Sitting in the seat that the Arbiter has designated for him, Envy, again, quietly tucked his triple-branched tongue out, allowing his senses to be submerged deeper into the hidden world of envy.

The Thousands Faces Demon Lord could see the shape of the participants in the Reign of Chaos well. Even when these Demon Lords, Gods, and Goddesses appeared in their immaterial form, Envy could still sense their envy well. Mistress Death, the Arbiter, despite not present inside the hall at the moment, Envy could trace her presence by the amount of envy dripping out of her ethereal body.

Yet, the Prince, the very vessel that Mistress Death used to construct this Divine Dream, was transparent and undetectable within this hidden world. Sickened, the Thousands Faces Demon Lord swallowed back his tongue.

Why URLOX? Why him? From the Prince’s memory, Envy knew that URLOX had many champions. Many of them were far superior to the Prince in one talent or another. Why him? Envy could not help but question URLOX’s favoritism toward the Prince.

Everyone knew that URLOX created the universe, but that was about it. URLOX created the world and left. Or so, most have believed. But once in a while, URLOX would use their miracles to remind the world of who they were.

It first happened during the First Divine War. It happened again when Craxus was still on Escana. And now, in this latest round of Reign of Chaos, URLOX reminded everyone that they were the Creators.

It’s hard not to admire URLOX. The amount of chaos that URLOX brought about with a poem was something to be admired. URLOX has only made one claim and introduced one human to the Great Game.

Even if that human was not the Prince but someone else, there would be no difference.

Just one simple claim and one human who claimed to be a prince. Nothing more, nothing special. And yet, Kharigan was nearly ruined from infighting. It’s hard not to admire URLOX’s miracle.

Admiration is a form of envy. One end of the spectrum, the beginning. If one cannot admire, one cannot envy. And Envy is the end.

No Demon Lord was born equal.

And, there is always Envy.

Envy remembered that praise from the Prince’s memory and the Thousands Face Demon Lord took a much liking to it. URLOX has given him such high praise. In URLOX’s eyes, he was not The Mimicker or a Faker. In URLOX’s eyes, he, Envy, the Thousand Faces Demon Lord was someone special.

As it has been shown in the Prince’s memory, URLOX was not just the Creators of the universe, they are also the Writers of fate. Every being in this universe had a role to play in URLOX’s story, and Envy was a part of it.

From the Prince’s memory, it was inevitable that Munezee would become . Sinintee created him from the dismembered left hand of Naharis and tasked him with the role of a mere gravedigger. Munezee was meant to be a mere gravedigger, to make a grave, to bury the dismembered body parts of Naharis on Kharigan, and to watch that grave until the end of time.

But the role that Sinintee gave him was not the role that URLOX has planned for him. In URLOX’s vision, Munezee has always meant to be , a creator of Demon Lords, someone greater than a mere gravedigger.

“And, there is always Envy.” There could not be higher praise than that. That was Envy’s role in URLOX’s story.

Therefore, “This cannot be it,” Envy held a steadfast belief to his revelation. Even though the current situation might suggest otherwise and the status quo would return to the Great Game when Death ended this Divine Dream, something will happen. Envy believed, somehow, someway, URLOX will make their prophecy become true.

Naharis was meant to be mad, to be killed by his children and paved the way for the Great Game.

Death was fated to be the Arbiter for the Great Game.

Munezee was fated to be the creator of the Demon Lords.

Wrath was fated to be the mightiest among the Demon Lords.

“And, there is always Envy.” That was Envy’s role. That was Envy’s fate in URLOX’s story. And Envy could feel it. His turn would come, eventually. He was Envy, the Thousand Faces Demon, the Doppelganger, his role in URLOX’s story could not be a mere mockery of a Demon Lord, a mere subordinate of Pride.

In his seat, Envy bobbed his round head, his long fingers weaving a tight net in anticipation. Envy was a Doppelganger, as URLOX have stated in their text of creation. But the Prince and his group of insolent followers would call Envy “a mummified slender man” much to the Creators’ annoyance. Envy possessed a humanoid form, slender but otherwise featureless, wrapping underneath the ever-changing pale shrouds of façade, his true skin. His wide and sunken eyes half-closed, praying for URLOX to enact their will.

There is no way URLOX’s claim can be this easily dismissed.

In silence, Envy soaked in the noises and the chaos around him, hoping for something unexpected to happen. Envy did not even mind working with that dodgy woman again to achieve that result.

Came a quiet, soft and gentle sound, almost musical. Envy’s steadfast hope was rewarded. URLOX answered his most fervent wish.

A quiet chorus of applause filled Envy’s head, a dark symphony of chaos, performed in the name of URLOX. Next to Envy, there stood URLOX’s most beloved man, their favorite champion, the Prince of The Alliance.

“Of course,” Envy killed his frantic mutter before it came out with the same loudness of Sloth’s snore. Of course, URLOX would have granted their champion with something. Some form of magic, some kind of artifacts, some manner of miracle, some source of protection against Death, something. URLOX must have given him something.

Something, Envy deducted that the Prince must have gained some or in the Prince’s language when he completely wiped out Wonten’s champion with his faction. Otherwise, nobody can stand against Death and win.

Pride and Lust were arguing in a heated exchange. Sloth was snoring. Nobody but Envy has noticed that quiet applause and the Prince’s sudden arrival. The Prince stood right next to Envy in the black and gold of his battle vestment while wearing the most cultured of a smile on his lips. In a warm and friendly manner, he gently nodded his head to acknowledge Envy’s swift awareness of his presence.

URLOX backs you up with miracles. That is the only reason you can smile like that, Envy put his hand on his chest, bowing lightly, showing a friendly gesture to URLOX’s champion.

Without that, you are nothing.

That symphony of chaos was quiet but steady, cold and seemingly unmindful. As that most entitled prince clapped his hands, he slowly walked toward the middle of the checkered hall with casual wide strides in confidence, repeatedly nodding his head in grace as the number of the Demon Lords who realized his presence increased. As the chatters died down and the snickers among the Demon Lords ended, that steady applause seemed to pick up in volume, became louder than that wailing sounds coming from Sanguine’s past champions and Sloth’s snores.

There, showered in the stares of disbelief and confusion, that entitled prince stood squarely where Mistress Death should be standing, the position of the Arbiter, the central position of the checkered hall. The Prince swiftly swept his dark eyes through the hall and put his applause to a full stop. “I have heard that you, my ladies and gentlemen have gathered here for me,” the Prince spoke in a soft and musical voice, “Here I am, Fearless, the Prince of The Alliance, nice to meet you,” he slyly directed Lust a not-so-subtle wink as if to service that rose color swell on her cheeks, all while that inhuman smile became ripened on his lips and took the air away from every being who saw it.

He knows how to make an entrance, Envy hated to admit. Amidst the dying wailing noises of Sanguine’s past champions, Envy heard the sound of water dripping. Ignoring Lust, the person standing next to him, who looks like she was about to die from the lack of air, Envy turned his head at the source. There, Magnamor, already slimy mess of a piss pool without any resemblance of a being worthy of an acknowledgment as a Demon Lord. If that Coward Demon Lord has intended to shame every Demon Lord participated in this meeting, he could not have done a better job.

A loud crashing sound erupted and spread through the hall, Xaara, the Quick Demon Lord, deservedly of his title was the first to break that trance-like quietness. He broke his chair into halves. “Where is the Arbiter?” Xaara thundered his demand in a sharp hissing sound. “Why…”

But that entitled Prince immediately cut the White Snake short with a cold snap of a question, loud and crisp, “Where is your manner?” The Prince sharpened his sight on Xaara. His voice then became much quieter, and much colder. “I have just introduced myself. Name yourself Demon Lord, or is that you don’t have one? Must I give you a name?” All form of warmness has completely evaporated from the Prince’s voice like the morning mist, replaced with a sneering spread of arrogance on his lips.

Xaara was not one to take such insolence well. The checkered tiles of black and white beneath Xaara’s serpentine lower half broke apart as the White Snake launched himself toward the Prince. Envy blinked his eyes and watched such an incredible display of stupidity in amazement. No fight has ever broken out inside this hall, ever. Xaara was making history.

All eyes trained on that large silver serpentine frame of Xaara, stupefied at the bizarreness that fell upon the White Snake. Never had the Quick Demon Lord had been slower. He was hovering in the air, more locked in the air, edging toward the Prince with the speed of a dying aged snail.

“Of course,” Envy had to raise his hand, guarding that widespread of a sneer on his lipless mouth against being revealed to his faction leader. URLOX bestowed their miracle upon him.

“Quick Demon Lord? How about feeling slow for a change?” The Prince quipped in nonchalance, did not even turn his head back when the towering shadow of Wrath darkened his lanky frame. “In the game, there is this special mechanic Action queue…”

While every Demon Lord stood in the hall was being wise and cautious of the bizarreness surrounding the Prince, Wrath the Thousands Claws Demon Lord was being himself, Munezee’s scourge of destruction.

Wonten, the mightiest of gods.

Wrath, the mightiest of Demon Lords

If only Wrath’s brain was as massive as his horns or just half the size of that long pair of ivory tusks spewing out of his reddened canine mouth, he would have stood by Munezee’s side and watched as the situation developed. But no, Wrath, the mightiest of Demon Lords, came to be without any shred of intelligence inside his taurine skull, for there was no need to that, until now.

Wrath howled. Down struck those merciless spiny four arms, thousands of razor claws gleaming. Disappeared Wrath with the same speed that he struck down those fists.

The moment when those struck-out fists came to contact with that black and gold vestment, Wrath’s massive body was pulled by an invisible force, hit the high ceiling with a sickeningly sweet blast of a shockwave. Envy did not imagine it, the entire hall did rattle when Wrath’s body hit the ceiling. Wrath’s body did not just hit the ceiling, it blew through the decorated ceiling, tearing that painting of Mistress Death and the Prince apart.

As the entire ceiling of the checkered hall tumbled, revealing a silver sky, the tattered black wings and bodies of Death’s messengers fluttered in the air. “How rude. I’m still explaining,” the Prince complained, but ultimately did not even bother to glance at Wrath’s direction once. His eyes were still locking on Xaara’s solid frame. “In the game, there is this special mechanic know as Action queue,” the Prince went back to explaining as if Wrath was never a concern in his mind. “You hold the Shift key and execute your command. The game will automatically execute your action in the order of your command. Nameless Demon Lord who looks like a snake, that is what is happening to you right now. Whatever you thought will be your action, well, with a point triple zero five multiplication time speed. But your thought is working at real time. So good luck figuring how to cancel this Action queue.” He challenged Xaara with a most playful voice before slowly taking three steps to his side.

Down went the mightiest Demon Lord, coldly plummeted to the ground at the Prince’s feet, blasting off a cloud of dirt with a most satisfying thud. The Prince finally turned his head at Wrath while casually dusting off the dirt on his vestment. But if Wrath would stay down after being hit once, he would have never been Wrath. Wrath howled, bounced up, stronger than ever and lashed out his attacks like a mindless beast that he was. But the arms that struck the black and golden rimmed vestment exploded into a violent spray of red mist, painting everything on its path with a bright red color. Broken shards of claws erupted, flying everywhere.

“That’s it,” the Prince sighed. He grabbed Wrath by his taurine horn and repeatedly smashed Wrath’s face to the ground, effortlessly turning the mightiest of Demon Lord into a visual mockery in everyone’s eyes.

Boom boom.

The louder Wrath howled, the louder the “boom” that exploded every time that bloody taurine nose hit the ground and the louder the rattles that spread through the checkered hall.

Boom boom boom.

The more resilience that Wrath showed, the faster his face would enter the floor, and it did not just enter. It tore through the floor with authority.

Boom boom boom.

The more Wrath struggled, the wider that crater became, with it those cracks lengthened and increased in number.

Boom boom boom. That was the most morbidly satisfying sound that Envy has ever heard in his life. BOOM BOOM BOOM. It was not a fight. It was not even a beat-down. It was a performance.

For the first time, Envy had an inkling of a feeling that he could get along with the Prince.

BOOM BOOM BOOM.

The Prince was making music and Wrath’s taurine head was an instrument of his, a not so cooperative instrument. BOOM BOOM BOOM. The Prince was making some sick music. BOOM BOOM BOOM. Amidst those addicting bombastic notes, Wrath’s gurgling and subdued howls of defiance were a delightful treat to one’s ears alongside the sweet crunchy sounds of his caving-in skull, those splintering horns, and those broken tusks. BOOM BOOM BOOM. The Prince smiled a bright smile, an innocent smile, playing that special music of his with proper chords and rhythms, with crescendo and decrescendo, all while locking his eyes at Munezee’s ashen face.

BOOM BOOM BOOM. The Prince was dedicating this morbidly sweet music for Munezee to listen and it was apparent that he wanted Munezee to know that.

“Cease it,” demanded Munezee in a firm voice.

“Cease what?” The Prince showered Munezee with a most confused look. BOOM BOOM BOOM. His hands were still on his instrument, playing his Demon Lord of an instrument with absolute discipline as his music was hitting the climax. BOOM BOOM BOOM.

“Let him go.”

“Let.” BOOM BOOM. “WHO.” BOOM BOOM BOOM. “Go?” BOOM BOOM BOOM. “LET WHO GO?” The Prince sang and kept playing his musical instrument, turning Munezee’s words into the lyrics of his newly written song.

“I will not repeat myself,” warned Munezee with a dark gnarl.

BOOM BOOM BOOM. The Prince shrugged a most playful of a shrug, kept staring at Munezee and continued playing. BOOM BOOM BOOM.

“I will not repeat myself. LET WHO GO?” BOOM BOOM BOOM. “LET WHO GO?” BOOM BOOM BOOM.

Wrath went from a visual mockery to a most faithful instrument of music, a Demon Lord no more. Munezee’s words became an audial mockery of a song. BOOM BOOM BOOM. BOOM BOOM BOOM. BOOM BOOM BOOM. The Prince only stopped playing when the song ended. Casually, he let Wrath go, tossing the cold body at Munezee. “If you believe that you are in any position to demand anything from me, go ahead and test it,” casually, he spoke to Munezee with a most arrogant of a smile flourishing on his lips.

“Ladies and gentlemen, that offer extends to all of you,” the Prince sharply turned and swept his eyes through the hall. “You are welcome to try it.”

“Where is the Arbiter?” Sinintee asked, rising from his seat, “Why does she allow you to commit this farce?”

“And I have thought that you are a smart man,” the Prince shot Sinintee a most disrespected side-glance, “Why don’t you figure it out?” A snicker overtook the Prince’s body, “Well then, I will assume that it’s my turn to make a demand. Lady and Gentlemen, may I see your Entry Permit?” The Prince presented a small card in his hand, slowly spinning around and showing the card to every being presented in the hall.

There were only those maddened wailing noises of Sanguine’s champions and the ghost of silence.

“Wow, you cannot tell me that you have never seen this card before. See! Read this, it is written on this card. See? YOU CANNOT FUCK WITH FEARLESS UNLESS YOU HAVE THIS CARD ISSUED TO YOU. Come on, guys. This is not cool. You had to have this Entry Permit to be here.” The Prince read the words displayed on the card. “Well then, I guess that is detainment for all of you. The charge is illegal entry. From this moment onward, you are my prisoners, all of you.”

Just like that the checkered hall that Death conjured was no more, disappeared. Only a dark jail full of torture cells remained. Envy watched his siblings being tortured while standing inside a transparent room, with see-through walls and floor. “You and me, we need to talk,” said the Prince.