Azrael's scream echoed across the transformed arena, carrying harmonics that made reality itself shiver. The obsidian walls continued their metamorphosis, reshaping into the crystalline architecture of his recovered memories. For a moment, the amphitheater existed in two states simultaneously—the Demon King's gladiatorial pit and the throne room where he had once confronted divine tyranny.

The flood of memories was overwhelming. Three thousand years of suppressed experiences crashed through ...