Akira could feel every demon as they arrived, as if jagged needles were slipping under her skin.

  Unlike the first time, there was no relentless assault on the edge of the universe, just a sudden pierce and the sensation of something else entering. She almost wanted to be grateful, but the open cruelty she could sense emanating from beyond sent any thankfulness away.

  Observing the planet on which the arrival took place, it didn’t bear many signs of invasion. The (relatively unadvanced, compared to Asyke) societies formed by the locals had noticed, but the demons hadn’t made themselves as much of an immediate threat. Instead, they lay in the dark, carrying out small raids, waiting as their bodies stained the surrounding water an inky black, darkness curling off of them as if it was smoke from a fire.

  She knew what they were waiting for.

  The invasion of Asyke hadn’t truly begun until the appearance of. . . its own champion. Saho may have arrived before it, and many of the worst tragedies occurred without its intervention, but the great demon was the heart of the bloodshed. Since Saho had ascended to godhood, he wouldn’t be able to fight against it like he had before. Akira would need to summon a new hero.

  The invasion looked to be much larger as well. Given that the dominant sapient life on the planet mostly existed in small pockets across the planet’s shallower zones instead of spread across a single area like on terrestrial planets like Asyke, any resistance on behalf of the natives wouldn’t be particularly impressive. Akira might even need to summon several heroes or, at the very least, provide them with an easy way of moving across large distances in order to protect the entire planet.

  A commanding demon— the intelligent sort that had been at the celebration— emerged from a portal like a dagger through Akira’s flesh, slick and sharpened in comparison to the main invasion force. It floated in the darkened water with barely subdued cruelty, enormous talon-tipped arms crossed in front of its huge, brutish chest. Its legs, shaped like a second pair of arms, were crossed similarly, leaving the demon in a sort of meditative stance. Its face looked more like a knight’s helmet, with twin horns spiraling out of either side and a deep, fiery glow shining from within the slits, which were contorted into a mockery of a humanoid face.

  Impatience broiled off of its skin, matched only by a sadistic anticipation so obvious that Akira couldn’t help but shiver. If the last invasion was any indicator, it was unlikely that her champion would have to fight the commanding demons directly, which she was thankful for. Whether or not they were as strong as its champion– she wasn’t sure– they were certainly more intelligent, and that was enough reason to worry.

  She decided to have Nakai include combat experience in the search for a champion, just in case.

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  Kaalnyia kept a close eye on the reef from her assigned outpost watchpoint. It had been quiet recently, but not in a peaceful way.

  A silent tension had fallen over the entire shallows, the shadows seeming to grow deeper, and the shifting shapes in the distance less recognizable. The few dwellings located on the cliffside below the shallows, dug slowly and carefully as the population expanded, had reported guneikhthus going missing and even claimed to have seen unknown monsters emerging from deeper waters.

  Kaalnyia wasn’t exactly a skeptic, but she wasn’t certain if it was true. New monsters were discovered all the time, especially as dwellings expanded downward. A type of giant, monstrous eel was found just last season in the aftermath of the mating season rush. Most monsters (except for prosoponpsude) weren’t very subtle. Good enough to sneak up on you, yes, but likely not good enough to get away without being seen.

  The elders had noticed and had ordered an expansion of the emergency food stockpiles. The interior farms were small compared to the forests of phaosphuton outside and could barely hope to support the entire population for a full season alone, so they couldn’t rely on them for food. Anything necessary was being relocated inside, new orders were being sent to the outposts, and cooperation between dwellings had never been so tight.

  As for known predators, things had changed. The recently hatched karkinokhora juveniles weren’t large enough to be serious threats, but in the tense atmosphere, they had seemed to adopt a more careful gait than usual. The local selakhoapetra had doubled their daily patrols, and word from the other outposts was that whatever unknown predators from below were being kept at bay because of them, at least for a little while.

  A shadow in the distance shifted slightly, and Kaalnyia’s attention snapped to it in an instant. It didn’t look like anything she recognized, though if she tried hard enough, she could imagine it being an injured guneikhthus or a patch of floating kelp. The shadow remained motionless for only a moment before fading back into the far-away water, but Kaalnyia’s eyes did not move from where she had seen it. She had seen it. For as mad as watch-duty could make you, some things were still certain.

  She stayed glaring even as the water grew darker with the setting of the sun, until the replacement watch shift arrived.

  “I saw something out there,” she told them. “It was far away, but I’m sure it was there.”

  Her replacement put on a brave face, but Kaalnyia could tell they were afraid. She made sure to leave extra phaosphuton fruit behind for them.

  Kaalnyia descended into the dugout living area of the outpost. Compared to the central cavern of the main dwelling, it was cramped, but for the small number of guneikhthus currently assigned to the position, it was cozy. Small decorations were scattered across the space, providing a little personalization despite the impersonal accommodations, and a treated kelp scroll was hung on the wall for them to write down what had occurred during their watch.

  She tensed when the water around her grew suddenly colder as she lay down for sleep. The shallows had gone quiet. Quieter than they had been already.

  By the time the gurgling scream sounded from outside, Kaalniya and the other lookouts were already at attention and halfway to the entrance.

  No one was there. The guneikhthus who had taken watch after her was gone, not even blood left behind.

  Kaalniya suddenly felt very, very alone.

  Hanqui'll, but due to the cultural traditions of guneikhthus, children are raised communally, so neither of them knows.

  Also, fun fact: The demon general that Akira watches is one we've seen before. We've even gotten a segment from their perspective!

  Next time: Chapter 49 - And now our second contestant. . .