Peras and Moros
As the Demon King and Peras stood in the great hall, the flickering flames of the obsidian fires casting eerie shadows on the walls, the heavy silence hung like a dark shroud between them. The cavern, vast and oppressive, seemed to echo with the weight of impending war, the kind of war that would rewrite the fate of the world.
But before either could speak again, a soft, playful laugh echoed through the chamber—a laugh that was oddly light and almost musical, like the tinkling of broken glass falling from an impossible height. It was a sound that didn't belong to the oppressive, violent underworld of the demons.