The night after the Second Ring finally locked into place.
Malerion stepped out of the apartment and into the bloodstream of the Lust Ring.
The world hit him all at once.
The pavement vibrated under his feet, pulsing with the rhythm of distant bass. Neon sigils crawled over skyscraper walls like seductive parasites, shifting from pink to violet to blood-red.
Waves of demons pushed through the streets laughing, fighting, hissing, shouting, flirting, bragging, transforming, stealing, and making deals all at once.
This wasn't a city.
It was movement with buildings attached.
Air shimmered with heat and perfume, with SIN drifting like glitter-smoke.
Crowds swirled around Malerion, barely noticing him except for confused glances because he was so calm and he didn't resemble any common demon it felt unnatural.
A trio of imps ran past him waving glowing drinks.
A moth demon cursed at a floating vendor.
Two succubi argued about who stole whose wings last weekend.
Everywhere, someone was screaming about something.
Malerion tried to keep to the edge of the street, not wanting to be dragged into chaos on his first step outside.
He passed a group of demons dancing on a hover-platform. He stepped around a drunken brawl.
He moved past a kiosk selling "Guaranteed Good Bad Decisions 3 for 20 souls!"
And despite all of it
The Second Ring stayed quiet.
Almost curious.
Alastor murmured in his mind, amused.
"Well… welcome in chaos . Try not to get stabbed before midnight."
Malerion ignored him.
He scanned the crowd, watching movement, watching instincts, watching SIN swirl above people like steam
not energy, not aura, just the natural haze of this place.
Someone bumped directly into him.
A small rabbit demon wearing a neon jacket staggered backward.
"Oh damn sorry!" she blurted, rubbing her forehead. She blinked at him, confused by how he didn't react aggressively. "You're… new, right?"
Yes, Malerion said simply.
She narrowed her eyes not because she sensed anything supernatural, but because he behaved in a way nobody here did. Calm. Quiet. Neutral. A walking contradiction in the middle of Lust Ring's emotional hurricane.
"Uh-huh…" she muttered, stepping back a little. "Well. Heads up crowds get rough around this hour.
People don't look where they're going. Including me."
She wasn't friendly.
Just talkative.
Natural for this Ring.
She took another step back, eyeing him like someone trying to guess whether he was boring or dangerous.
"Anyway. Take care," she said already turning away into the crowd.
Malerion nodded once. You too.
That was it.
No bond.
No connection.
Just two strangers colliding in the street.
Lyssa disappeared into the shifting wave of bodies, forgotten by everyone except him.
He found her name during the physical contact they had
Malerion continued forward.
The crowd grew thicker.
Clubs bled music into the street.
Hover-buses roared overhead.
Demons shouted from balconies, threw objects, or danced in ways that defied anatomy.
Vendors sold heart-shaped crystals, illegal potions, spiked drinks, enchanted clothing, and questionable body-modification services.
Every street corner was alive.
Every alley hummed with heat and risk.
Every building breathed SIN.
And Malerion walked deeper into it, a silent figure swallowed by the neon chaos.
Alastor hummed again, observing everything with him.
"This Ring," he said, so much chaos not what pride is
Malerion didn't disagree.
Because for the first time
The Lust Ring felt like a place where the Echo Rings could truly grow.
Not through power.
Not through combat.
But through overwhelming life.
He stepped onto a busier boulevard, letting the noise wash over him.
The night had only just begun.
The boulevard widened ahead, spilling into a massive open district illuminated by towering pink holograms and moving neon banners. The buildings felt alive every window flickering like an eye, every balcony swaying with dancers who didn't care whether the railing could hold them.
Malerion stepped into the heart of it.
The moment he crossed the invisible threshold, the noise hit him like a wall.
Demons shouted over each other, advertising everything imaginable:
"Hot meals! Literally hot! Still screaming!"
"Fresh SIN-shots! Triple-filtered!"
"Temporary love potions! Forty percent success rate!"
"Illegal illusions! No refunds if they haunt you!"
"Cursed jewelry buy two, get possessed for free!"
A group of succubi posed for holographic photos on a levitating platform.
A hulking bull demon dragged a broken street sign behind him, ranting about "cheating bastards."
Three imps rode a stolen hoverboard, shrieking with laughter before crashing into a fruit stall.
Malerion watched, absorbing everything the flow, the rhythm, the way demons collided and reformed like waves.
But then something caught his attention.
A crowd gathering around the entrance of a massive nightclub.
A glowing, shimmering sign hung above the doors:
THE VELVET HEX
Music thumped from inside—deep, heavy bass that felt like a physical force pressing against the street.
Pink lightning arced along the building's edges.
Demons swarmed toward it, drawn like moths to a flame.
Alastor's voice rumbled inside Malerion's mind.
"Oh my. That's one of the bigger venues.
I'd avoid going inside unless you're feeling particularly suicidal.,,
Why?"
"Because everything inside wants something from you… whether you agree or not."
Malerion stayed where he was, observing from the edge of the sidewalk.
Outside the club, a fight was breaking out.
Typical Lust Ring brawl loud, messy, absolutely unnecessary.
Two demons shoved each other, sparks flying from their claws.
A third tried to steal one of their wallets in the background. A fourth demon live-streamed the entire thing, yelling commentary into a floating crystal camera:
"YOOO, FIGHT NIGHT AT THE HEX! PLACE YOUR BETS, LOSERS!"
A few passersby cheered.
Others ignored it completely.
One demon crawled between legs just to steal the shoes off someone mid-fight.
Malerion turned away
and almost collided with a tall, elegant figure.
A feline demoness, dressed in shimmering rose-gold cloth, looked him up and down with mild annoyance.
"Watch where you're going, sweetheart," she purred. "People spill expensive blood in this district."
"Apologies," Malerion said calmly.
She blinked at his voice flat, emotionless, the opposite of Lust Ring's usual chaos.
"Oh. One of those types," she sighed. "Good luck, darling."
She walked away, her tail brushing the ground like a paintbrush trailing perfume.
Malerion moved deeper into the marketplace.
The farther he walked, the more bizarre things became.
A demonic fortune-teller shouted predictions at strangers without permission:
"You will be punched tonight! YOU! Yes, YOU! Don't deny it!"
A skeleton demon ran past, on fire, yelling:
"I'M FINE! THIS IS NORMAL!"
A group of incubi posed shirtless around a fountain, causing a crowd to scream wildly until security guards pushed them off the ledges with electric batons.
Then
A sudden, sharp noise.
CRACK!
Something slammed into a building ahead.
A demon had been thrown clean across the street by someone much larger a muscular, tattooed incubus who looked annoyed more than angry. He dusted his knuckles.
"Oh great," Alastor muttered in Malerion's mind. "Another territorial meathead."
The incubus wasn't looking at Malerion
just scanning the street while people scattered.
Malerion slipped behind a kiosk to avoid getting dragged into the chaos.
From behind the kiosk curtain came a hiss.
"Hey! Move over! You're blocking my customers!"
Malerion turned.
Inside the small booth, a tiny imp in a glitter vest was rearranging jars labeled:
"Liquid Courage (May Kill You)"
"Adsorption Spells – Don't Swallow"
"Heartburn Hexes – Guaranteed to Sting"
"Sin-Concentrate — DO NOT OPEN"
Sorry, Malerion said, stepping back.
The imp squinted at him.
"Hmm. You look too calm. Suspicious."
I'm just observing.
"That's even more suspicious!" the imp declared. "Buy something or get out! Staring scares my customers!"
Alastor laughed inside his mind.
Malerion walked away from the stall, ignoring the imp's offended squeaks.
He continued toward a side street that branched off the main boulevard.
The noise was still loud, but the lights dimmed slightly.
Not quiet just less blinding.
Demonic graffiti covered the walls.
Posters advertising shows, fights, clubs, and magical events layered over each other like chaotic wallpaper.
A trio of demons stood in a circle chanting. A glow flickered in the middle something like a summoning ritual, though none of them seemed to know exactly what they were doing. One demon coughed:
"Did we read the instructions wrong?"
Another replied:
"Dude, this is Lust Ring. We don't do instructions."
Alastor's voice hummed low.
"You see? No logic. Only impulse."
Malerion walked past.
He wasn't sure if he was fascinated or overwhelmed probably both.
Something moved in the corner of his vision.
A shadow.
Someone watching him?
He turned
But it was just a demon leaning against a wall, smoking a glowing cigarette, not paying attention to him at all.
Still…
The Second Ring inside his chest gave a subtle twitch.
Not sensing danger.
Not warning him.
Just reacting to the sheer density of life around him.
For the first time since arriving in Hell
Malerion felt something almost like…
Opportunity.
The Lust Ring didn't care who he was.
Didn't notice his secrets.
Didn't see him as a threat.
It was indifferent.
Which made it the perfect place to grow unnoticed.
He continued down the street, disappearing into the neon haze, the crowd swallowing him completely as the night deepened.