The hellish 'sunrise' was a slow, bloody creeping of corrupted, red light into the perpetual dimly lit haze that haunted hell's deep purple skies.
The thick miasma fought the blazing red to color the air with its corruption.
The jagged landscape, once plagued by an eerie demonic darkness, was now a grim, reddish twilight that slowly unveiled the massive, terrifying armies that encircled the basin.
Their vague outline cause one to tremble, and now that they were fully revealed, all wild demons and devils scurried far away… at least those that still could.
It was in this grim growing light that Saphira found herself in a rather awkward position.
She had crept here under the cover of the receding night; her shadowy figure slithering and passing against the glowing, humming energy of Adam's defensive barrier.
She went to the far right, then to the far left. She looked at deeper crevices where the barrier met the ground, and threw a pebble high up into the sky, only to have it bounce off with a faint ripple of an almost invisible barrier.
Her features contorting slightly upon realizing that there was no way in.
The barriers light momentarily flickering against her beautiful, enchanting crimson skin.
Her movements were trained and stealthy; a phantom moving with a natural, predatory grace, masking the unease within her heart.
At first, her movements were unwavering and her speed undaunted.
But as the barrier loomed before her, a shimmering wall of potent magic that she knew that she could not breach, her resolve had began to dwindle. Her solemn face cracked with the slightest hint of unwanted hesitation.
The command from her father had been an absolute edict, but she had taken matters into her own hands, bending his will ever so slightly in her favor.
A part of her that has still not fully matured trembled with a slight hint of anxiety and fear; fearing the thought that her father would catch up and grab her before she could make it passed this barrier.
Only by forcing herself to calm down did she realize that if her father wanted to stop her, she probably wouldn't have made it this far.
Still, the unknown was dread inducing.
She came, wanting to see if she could discuss better terms, find an avenue of escape, or even avoid the situation in its entirety by speaking to this unknown devil.
Though, as she stood there at the edge of the barrier, seeing the massive nexus point, she realized that the devil must be powerful and that she might have no leverage…
She ended up 'tactically retreating'.
Though a more prideful part of her mind framed it as tactical retreat and reconnaissance, she subtly knew her own aversion to the matter at hand.
Because, in reality, she had chickened out.
Devil's, although powerful and intelligent, were still prone to falling to their emotions at the lower realms.
Though it wasn't entirely cowardice, as she decided that she needed to know more about this individual before she could formulate a complete game plan.
Therefore, she would use this time!
It was a hidden blessing for failing to get past the barrier, from meeting him sooner.
She sought to learn the nature of the devil to whom she was being sacrificed to, before she walked willingly into his jaws.
It was a flimsy excuse, a delay of the inevitable, but it was a thread of control she clung to with desperate strength.
The young, mostly inexperience devil sought to grasp at any threads of freedom she was presented in this twisted, hopeless situation.
It lead to the current circumstances.
She was hidden, crouching in the craters and ditches just outside of Adam's barrier.
She had found a low trench, a shallow scar in the earth carved by some long-forgotten molten stream of hell's magma, with its sides steep enough to allow her concealment even against the rising suns.
She was curled up within its dark, humid crevices. The rich, sulfur and charcoal scented earth felt contradictorily cool against her skin.
Her skin's color aligning with hell's endless blazing corruption.
It's deep, captivating crimson, the color of fresh heart's blood, smooth, velvety, and seemingly lit from within by a soft, warm glow.
An enchanting glow that spoke of her otherworldly beauty.
From her brow, just above her temples, swept a pair of elegant, spiraling ram's horns the color of violet amethyst; a stark and beautiful contrast to the vibrant red.
Though she possessed the power of a high-tier lesser devil, her body held the fresh, unspoiled bloom of youth.
She was young in hell's standards, and even younger in human's after all.
Such was the anomaly of fiends, who matured extremely quickly, but then had practically immortal lifespans.
Her face was oval, with full, pouting lips and a small, straight nose. Her eyes, however, were pools of shimmering, molten brass with slitted pupils, while her sleek, cascading hair was like darkness draped over her shoulders.
There was a softness to her, a lack of the hardened edges that came with many years of conflict.
Her endless potential and natural superiority of her bloodline have yet to be put through trials and tribulations that hell and its adversaries have to offer.
The training she received was strenuous, but never life threatening. There was no fights among the neighboring enemy factions, no true enemies that she has encountered, nor powerful demonic beast to look out for.
The internal situation of Lord Gorael's camp was strict and tame because of the plans he had set for Adam's birth.
All in all, Saphira had lived a very easy and laidback life so far.
Her enchanting, primal eyes were wide with a mixture of fear and intense curiosity as she looked into the awakening forces beyond the barrier.
Her body, hidden in the trench, moved subtly to avoid the moving light.
The gentle swell of her breasts pressed against the earth as she leaned into to get a better view. Then there was the dip of her waist, the ripe curve of her hips that lead to the defined plumpness of her rear as she bent forward and over a small mound.
She was an enchanting fruit not yet plucked, a deadly flower of radiant, demonic beauty waiting in the fading shadows.
From her hidden spot, her demonic gaze pierced the miasmic gloom and studied the inner workings of Adam's domain.
She saw the demons laboring under the direction of a hulking brute; their disorderly movements streamlined into a proper, albeit rough, working force.
She saw the sleek black obelisk with clarity for the first time under the intensifying rays of light.
It was a pillar of pure power in her eyes; the structure that had prevented her from creeping in further within the budding base.
It stabbed into the endless sky; its powerful resonating hum of demonic energy echoing in her very bones.
'At least, the ruler of the basin seemed to have put an inkling of thought to their future.' Saphira thought, envy and greed glowing in her eyes as she felt the powerful energy fluctuations.
The light seemed to be a call of consciousness, as all demons touched by the scorching rays of light were stirred awake.
Their massive, robust bodies crawled out of hidden pits, or pushed down the walls to a simply made tent. Others, more herd-like, moved in unison with their group: all awaking together like a small, though barbaric, tribe.
Watching the basin wake, not long after she saw the first demon stir, she heard something else.
A sound that cut through the low hum of the barrier and the distant rumble of the encircling armies; a sound that wormed its way directly into her heightened, high-tier devil senses.
It was the sound of sex.
Not the short, hurried coupling of those disgusting demons, but instead a deeper, more carnal symphony of raw, unashamed carnality.
It came from the very peak of the kilometer-high obelisk: the blurry, hidden room she could barely see as it was faintly covered in hell's miasmic fog.