Chapter 27: Revelry in the Dark

"So the Clown already makes his move against the other generals," Amon chuckled. "Then I should take it that the Shadow Paladins at my door are your doing? Some… internal sabotage to weaken Nebula Lord's position among your own people?"

"Chaos Breaker has nothing to do with this, Amon," Trent answered, staring above the eyeless mass where the face should have been and instead at the crown of the demon's form. "This, at the end of the day, is where the path I chose led me. So, I must ask you, Demon Lord turned to the side of the invaders, was this momentary supremacy worth the price?"

One of Amon's claws twitched, producing a high-pitched noise as it ground against the armrest of his throne. All around the few un-Locked Dark Irregulars that made up his court flinched while hardening themselves for a fight whenever Amon gave the order. His rumbling voice echoed as he spoke, "Momentary? Your foolishness betrays you, quisling. This power has allowed me to crush those who would rise up against me, and so long as those who are attracted to power follow me, it will never fail."

"You don't know what the Star-vaders do, do you?" the Canuck asked rhetorically, his eyes flicking over the various Locked people around the room. He couldn't use Void energy on his own, but manipulating the pre-existing Locks for their power should work. "They destroy them in a manner that can never be recovered from, and those that help them…" Trailing off, Trent's mind went over the options and shook his head as he continued, "No matter what, they all meet miserable fates, trapped and enslaved by the Star-vaders. So, consider this your warning, Amon: keep bowing to the Star-vaders, and you will be but one of many of their pawns. A single, insignificant tool."

The demon's hand slammed down on one of his armrests, the ring behind him spinning faster and faster as he leaned forward. His body creaked, from both its brittle material and the power trying to fight from within. Amon's voice rumbled through the hall, his subjects flinching as it set their rib cages trembling. "Though the Star-vaders might plan as much, I shall not be chained down by them! Both you and they underestimate me! I, Amon, the great Demon Lord, shall conquer the Star-vaders! Use the power they've given me, and their distraction with Cray to bend them to my will!"

"Except for the fact that if you could actually manage something like that, you'd have done so already," the Cyberoid remarked in a bored tone, taking a moment to study his nails. Looking back up at the demon, he smirked in amusement.

"So please, Amon, continue to harp on about a subject you know so little about." Trent's mouth was a cruel crescent as he stepped forward, his hands held out beside him in a gesture of open handed showmanship. "You'll conquer the Star-vaders? With what army? To use your current power, you need to Lock away more and more of your followers. And when they run out, either killed in their Locks or control of them taken by the Link Joker? Who will you turn to, Amon? The corpses of those who actually stood and fought the Link Joker? Those who've been taken as slaves to be broken by them?"

Trent laughed aloud, the noise echoing through the hall over the grinding of Amon's fingers as they dug into his throne. "You've burnt every bridge, you twit! No one on Cray will stand beside you, knowing that you've already been taken in by the Link Joker! And they already know that you'll try and betray them, and probably have fail safes prepared for that moment!"

Turning his amused smile at the demon, the Canadian shook his head as he finished, "A king upon his throne? No, all I see before me is a frog at the bottom of a well."

The Marquis let out a noise of rage that set the petrified flesh on his head cracking, the ring behind his back looking more like a vortex as it picked up speed. Black-red energy crawled down his arms, springing from his throne with surprising speed and stepping forward to smite those who opposed his views.

Luquier shifted in front of Trent, lifting her whip up defensively as she prepared to push him out of the way.

It was at that moment that a tremendous clarion ripped through the halls of the building, the sound of crumbling stone and stomping feet devouring the silence. Dust billowed across one side of Amon's throne room, light cutting through it and casting the newcomers in heroic silhouettes.

Stepping into the room, the pegasus that seemed glued to his crotch missing, Mordred Phantom cut an imposing figure, his sword held loosely at his side. Surveying the room, he let out a chuckle that was at odds with his impassive visage. "Amon, you've really slimmed down."

"He has been consumed by the very power he claims to control," Blaster Dark murmured as he skulked out from behind his leader, his eyes narrowed to the point that they almost disappeared beneath the lip of his helmet. "I would call him pathetic…"

"It is not our place to judge, Junos." The very words set the air rumbling like a storm was about to break, but it was controlled, clipped in a manner. The light streaming into the room was eclipsed by the great form of the redeemed Abyss Dragon, his gait slow and purposeful.

His sizeable shoulders rolled, his crystalline glaive catching the light and sending a kaleidoscope of colours across the hall. The dragon's great reptilian head was haloed by the crimson black rings roiling behind it, and gave him an air of danger. He studied the demon on his throne, and remarked, "To judge is outside our purview. Ours is fury, revenge, the cries of the trampled upon. That is what we shall deliver unto this scum."

"Scum?" Amon's voice was a ragged sound as he straightened, pinpricks of red building up on his head analogue. "You would call me scum? You, who are naught but betrayers, charlatans, backstabbers, and criminals?" A deep, hoarse noise echoed around him as his shoulders shook, and laughed, "I am the rightful ruler of the Dark Zone, who has maintained his role through the legitimacy of might! Come then, oh army of thieves and whores!" Orbs of crimson-black swirled into existence around him, before rupturing in blasts of Void energy, slamming into the forces of the Shadow Paladins.

Bolts of darkness and red ripped through the ranks of the knights, an unguarded attack that would have ended in a slaughter were it not for a single fact. The gathered soldiers rippled out of existence, the illusion falling away to reveal that they had split down the middle, flowing into the court.

As the few remaining members of Amon's court put up their defences, magic circles springing into existence to stem the tide of knights.

Blaster Dark launched over them, the blade that was his namesake shining dully as he surged towards the Demon Lord. His ascent was interrupted when a masked figure with wild hair interposed himself in the knight's path, his wild hair swaying around his head as the blue flame licking from his hand cast his manic grin in an eerie light. "Come then, failed knight! Let's see how you dance compared to a true follower of the Demon Lord!"

"Failed?" Junos asked. "If I have failed, then what does that make your master?" The only reply a wordless howl of rage. "Ah, perhaps I've struck too close to home? After all, what is your king now, but a bootlick for the invaders assaulting Cray?"

"Shut your mouth!" Ron Geenlin hollered, the flames on his hand dancing as they clashed with the thick blade of the Blaster Dark. "What my bright lord does… is for the sake of the Dark Zone! For its people, for its protection!"

"When I stood by Phantom Blaster Dragon, and turned my back on King Alfred, I did so believing that I was doing what was best for the people of the United Sanctuary," Junos replied, masterfully twirling the weapon in his hands to send the already reeling warrior further on the backfoot. "I can only see so many similarities… except for the ones that truly matter. Phantom Blaster and I were tricked by the Void gnawing at our world, whereas Amon has given himself willingly and wholly to the Star-vaders."

The Dark Irregular let out a wordless howl as he moved to press his attack, only to be pushed back by the swordmaster of the Revengers.

Beneath the pair, the Shadow Paladins surged forwards, slamming into the still unlocked followers of Amon. Where the latter used their fell magics and demonic powers to combat the knights, they lost in the most important arena, as they lacked the numbers to keep up with their foes. For every Irregular, three Paladins stood tall to combat them.

They fought not for glory, nor for the enjoyment of bout. They fought with grim determination and understanding, seeing just how the Яeversal of their own comrade had done. And the yoke that their own Clan had been burdened with, borne of the Void's machinations on Cray.

The tide turned as Amon stood, one redwood-like leg moving in front of the other as the demon rose from his throne. "You come into my home," the demon lord ground out as his fingers danced like branches in the wind, the shadows leaping from them to touch at those of his subjects. "You accuse me of weakness, of being controlled, and top it off by destroying my citadel's defences." Void energy lept from the shadows of the Dark Irregulars nearest Amon.

Horror and fear echoed from the targeted Followers as the Locks wrapped around them, compressing and pulling them into detention spheres the size of marbles. Power rippled through them and into the Demon Lord, his grasping hands pulling into fists and swinging low, sending knights toppling and careening through the air.

"You shall pay for your tresspasses in blood and life."

An orb of Void formed at the end of one fist, the air rippling around it as Amon brought it down with a roar.

The knights he aimed to crush faded out of existence, the illusion shattering again as Mordred chortled under his breath. "Then you'll have to forgive us if we continue with our tresspasses, Amon. It's our usual idiom."

"Blasted wastrel!" the demon roared as he took another step forward, the ground cratering beneath his feet as Void licked from the Locks around them and up his legs.

Another mighty blow was launched by Amon, crimson-black energy girding the limb as it descended towards the airborne knight.

Only for it to be intercepted.

Pure white light shone against the darkness of the Void, streaming from the palm of the redeemed Abyss Dragon as he caught Amon's fist in it. The ring at his back pulsed and twisted, spinning counterclockwise as the dragon pushed his foe's fist back.

With Mordred Phantom covering the dragon's rear, his weapon flashing out in wide arcs to cut down those who approached, the chain trailing behind it to pick off any stragglers, the halberd-wielding dragon continued his advance.

The pair of titans stood opposite each other, one pushing forward with a single fist, while the other held steady, his claw wrapped around his foe's extended limb. As they struggled, Amon let out a reedy laugh, "Look at you, Raging Form, look at you. Painting yourself the colours of a Cosmo Dragon, all while wielding the power of the Link Joker… we're the same, you and I."

"Is that what you think?" the dragon asked in reply, his shoulders tensing as he pushed back, forcing Amon's feet to grind against the floor, the carpet and stonework ruined by thick gouges from his toes. "There might have been similarities, Amon, but we are not alike. You have lost yourself in your bid for power, while I refused to give up a shred of myself, even seeking to throw away the power instead. But another path was opened for me."

The ring on the dragon's back flared, and the Locks around Amon's feet cracked. "I am no longer the Revenger, Raging Form Dragon. Nor am I Яeversed."

Light flared out from the dragon's palm as he stepped forward, and Amon bent backwards, straining against the force of his foe. The Revenger's maw pulled into a draconic smirk as he announced, "I am the Яogue Shining Revenger, Serene Folm Dragon."

Amon shrieked, Void rippling and spreading across his court, ensnaring his followers, regardless of their status. Power poured through him as his off hand came up to swipe at Serene Folm, aiming to rip open the dragon's scaled chest.

Only for it to stop short.

Luquier had moved, her whip lashing out and wrapping around the demon's wrist and pulling taut. Despite her much slighter form, she held her position, the muscles in her arms visibly straining as she fought to immobilize Amon, Trent doing what he could to support her by clapping a hand down on her shoulder, his expression hard with worry. "Go for it!"

Serene Folm raised his crystalline halberd up, his arm pulling back as he chambered his strike. "Ah, the joys of having Clan at one's back."

And then he struck, his halberd striking fast as lightning and impacting with all the force of an eruption. Amon's body bent and cracked, and then folded around the weapon as it crashed through his midsection.

The demon wheezed and groaned, the power dripping from his body as the Locks he'd called up slowly breaking with his defeat.