Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It's been about fifty years since King Clawthorne has been born at last. Little has changed beyond a certain demoness gaining a little brother and a mother gaining a son, but while he feels loved, he feels unfulfilled. He doesn't yearn for great power or even an overarching goal in spite of his name, but he knows he wants to do something with his life, whatever it may be.

Exploring Cocytus, the land where a mighty High Devil in the making grew from Fodder, comes to his little mind. The frigid temperature will be shielded by his charcoal-black fur, his skull will provide immense protection from even falling stones, his mighty strength more than capable of fending off even a frenzied Caribellow. Ideas of feasting upon only the mightiest meals brings him a sense of intrigue.

’One of the greatest in coming history survived. If I want Luz to think I’m powerful, I can head there to prove myself!’ he concludes as he packs his sack, shoving a mixture of sweets, blankets, and his favorite toy inside. ‘She wants to be an Overlord, so she can’t worry about me anyway. What better a kick in the pants than showing her baby brother doesn’t need protection, even if it feels nice?’

He knows he can’t rely on Luz forever; one day she’ll move out and reside in a Stronghold of her own, possibly with a spouse, given her ramblings about a certain “Amity”. If what she’s saying is true, the rising Overlord needs proof her disappearance won’t upend her family. Eda will do fine, and so the skull-headed Fodder Demon sees no need to at least try to prove himself.

’Yeah… I’ll be a Greater Demon! Eda’s pretty tough, no lies there, but she can’t worry! Yeah I’ll send a few postcards from thin bone by the time I arrive and that’ll keep them from worrying,’ the young demon insists to himself, stepping outside with a note on the table. ‘Well… This is it. No turning back now. Next stop: Cocytus!’

And so he kicks the door opens and takes a step out into Hell, a map in hand as he traverses the molten landscape on his own for the first time. He will prove he’s more than a cute fluffy demon with a skull for a head, he will find a way to prove his worth until Luz leaves, and he will prove there’s no need to fear. He’s King Clawthorne, and if it means proving he’s not a coward and able to stand on his own, even for a little while, then his adventure will do him some good in the long run. Even if he fails, he can say he tried.

Even with his sturdy body and his refusal to let walking do him in so soon, King has yet to find the eternal blizzard. Occasionally he hears of someone coming to the land and never returning, sometimes mentions of Slitherbeasts roaming nearby catches his interest, by no matter what direction he goes, he always fails to find the one place he wants to go. He suspects the map is either wrong or simply incomplete, certain a certain pillar of rocks has been passed fifty times in a row. His stomach grumbles, wanting to snack upon a cupcake or two, only to refuse himself such a treat.

’Celebrate once you find it. First Cocytus, then cupcake,’ he concludes, his legs growing tired as he searches for signs of the land. ‘Just a little longer, this time… I dunno.’

His refusal to back down leaves him with the harsh truth: he’s never left far from home before, much less by himself. He can lie to himself and say he’s inexperienced alone, but with so little experience, he must contend with other, larger demons, High Devils, and even risk of running into Overlord soldiers. Each sign is further proof he’s out of his league, and if he wants to grow stronger, he needs to find Cocytus and quickly. The lack of signs and the nonexistent abundance of snow only makes the skull-headed demon more determined to find literally anything of note.

’Come on, you barely started! Look for something new and… go from there!’ he demands his body, trudging over a hill, the clouds above growing darker neither from ash nor smoke.

The further from familiar territory King roams, the fewer details he feels are noteworthy. The land grows flatter around him, streams of boiling magma suitable for bathing more apparent than before, the creatures around him fewer and farther between. It isn’t long before his map indicates him to be in the center of Cocytus, the lack of ice and mountains suggesting otherwise.

’Stupid map! They didn’t want anyone to find it!’ he growls to himself while preparing to burn his map via a molten stream. ‘You stupid-!’

His thoughts pause as he spots an unfamiliar sight: rabbit-like Ferals, an entire fluffle of them, drinking from an especially large river. None of them appear any larger than him, and he’s about half his sister’s height as is, all the more reason he’s surprised to see them directly drinking from the stream. Even the babies get a drink.

’What are they doing?!’ he exclaims to himself with bewilderment. ‘C’mon, there has to be something that explains this!’

He looks into his sack and pulls out his Book of Demons, finding “Toto-Hops” in the “T” section and reading their entry.

’Let’s see… Bunny-like demons, often traveling in groups known as Fluffles… feared by all local Ferals in Cocytus!’ King reads with newfound excitement. ‘They occasionally drink Magma for a substance known as Magmin, which allows their newly-increased body heat to allow them to survive in the frigid former capital of Hell! That must be Cocytus!’

Such a theory is his only hope of truly finding Cocytus. If his book is accurate, the fluffy creatures should be able to lead him straight for possibly the deadliest environment he’s heard of in Hell’s history. Only once all Toto-Hops from the elders to the Hoplings do they traverse deeper into the territory, their light bodies and strong hind legs allowing them to travel far and fast, much to both King’s fascination and annoyance. The last thing he can afford is losing sight of them.

It won’t be long before Hell’s normal heat turns to an unforgiving cold.

Chapter Text

King can’t stop wondering how and why Toto-Hops are the most feared beings in Cocytus, even for Slitherbeasts. They’re small, they’re agile, they travel in groups, but nothing in the Book of Demons details them as anything more than passive scavengers. Their behavior, at least at a glance, suggests as such, what few demons they come across immediately backing away as they head toward their home, further confounding what may or may not be accurate information. However, such worries are a secondary concern at best compared to their destination.

The skull-headed demon can’t help but feel grateful to constantly sport thick fur, the blistering heat making way for a sudden cold chill. At first it starts tepid, lukewarm, about the same he would expect for Eda’s house, only to grow colder by the minute. The Toto-Hops continue forward with no resistance or issue, the Magmin within their bodies warming their bodies as the air becomes clouded with the unfamiliar snow King has heard mere rumors of.

Steep stone mountains are capped with thick sheets of white, the air matted with the thickest of storms the young demon has ever seen. The land is sleek with snow and ice, the young demon’s claws preventing him from slipping as she further explores the unfamiliar environment. Each small stone, each blow of the wind, it all combines into a desolate wasteland devoid of any immediate signs of life. Not even shrubs resistant to heat so much as peek from beneath the snow, only the brief sight of Toto-Hops scurrying their way deeper into their environment catching his attention.

’Cocytus. Alright, this isn’t too bad so far. Just gotta look for something tough, probably a Caribellow before hunting down a Slitherbeast,’ he concludes, clenching his fist before approaching a nearby pillar of ice. ‘I can’t stay out here forever, and I have some food to celebrate with! I might as well prepare for the blizzards, right?’

He punches at the pillar's base with all his might, cracking the surface before tossing away chunks and shards with minimal effort. At least inside he'll have a safe spot to hide his food and survive during the endless storm. More and more shards are lobbed out, pieces of ice set aside in a nearby corner in case King requires any food on standby. It's at that point he's grateful not to require cooked food just to survive and is simply relieved to have the traits he does have. He'll have plenty of time to train himself into something better, and from there he can better explore the former capital of Hell itself.

He swiftly devours a cupcake in celebration, his destiny awaiting him somewhere within the wasteland.

King never thought he would be so unsatisfied when it comes to snow. His small stature makes it hard to traverse beyond burrowing and the sights of various wild demons only further reminds him of his vulnerability. Beasts taller than a small house lead him to worry for his safety and ponder his power, the roars of Slitherbeasts reminding him part of why so many demons came and never returned. So many potential vantage points further solidify his need for protection, never allowing himself in sight of any cliffs unless he's absolutely certain he can survive an encounter with a beast.

'Come on, you're better than this! You're not just a demon, you're a future Overlord's brother!' he encourages himself, mentally preparing for his kill. 'Come on, you just have to do it! No amount of preparation is worth it unless you go for the kill!'

The trudging of a Caribellow catches his attention, recalling from his book that such a beast is solitary and considered a prey animal in spite of its sharp teeth. The skull-headed demon's burrowing is slow yet it allows him to keep out of sight while hiding his movement, briefly peering from beneath the snow to search for an opening. He can't stop himself from shivering as his fists clench and unclench, several breaths escaping his lips as the beast pauses just before a thick snow mound.

'The Caribellows require adequate water from the snow for hydration, lots of it too, but it's when they drop their guard,' he recalls, eyes narrowing as he emerges just from below. 'Alright, this is my chance.'

He dares not lose his chance, lunging forward and aiming for the beast's leg, ramming his skull directly into the back left knee as the piercing roar of pain escapes the beast's lips. Only as it topples to the ground does King go for the kill, his prey offered a relatively merciful end by grabbing its head and twisting with all his might, a loud crack and snap following. Only then does the Caribellow finally stop moving.

‘Sorry big guy, but there’s more than one predator that must survive! Your meat will be a perfect source of food out here!’ he declares to himself, immediately getting to work dragging his meal toward his pillar. ‘It’s the way things work out here. You won’t go to waste, I can promise that!’

Never before has he caught such a mighty meal before. Only small morsels, little more than twice his height, have all the black-furred demon has caught before, his confidence growing considerably as he ponders how to cut up his meal. Nothing from his book indicates the Caribellow is poisonous, his stomach growling at the thought of so much food being ready for consumption. All that’s left is preparing it, however it may be.

‘Too big to pull inside on its own, and scavengers will gather what’s left. Maybe the stomach would work, the ribs shouldn’t be in the way,’ the youngest Clawthorne ponders, his gluttony clouding his judgement as his home away from home comes into view. ‘I wonder what it tastes like. Maybe gamey, but… Wait a minute.’

In that moment, an idea springs to King’s mind. Toto-Hops travel to magma streams to absorb Magmin, the familiar heat leading him to ponder his next decision, his stomach growling at the thought of magma-seared Caribellow Brisket, perhaps ribs if he’s feeling peckish. He might have to wait on the idea of seasoning except maybe for salt down the line, only the idea of consuming his prey pushing away such a thought. He might grow lazy and just eat, yet the idea of actually working for a good meal makes him pause.

’Work? For food? How…’ he ponders, his thoughts growing clear. ‘…tempting.’

The little demon only grows more certain of his decision; if all goes according to plan, his bravery in taking on Cocytus itself will prove easier than he once imagined.

Chapter Text

About a week after arriving in Cocytus, King can safely say he's made himself a home away from home, even if most of it's made from ice and snow. His pillar remains standing and the entrance is layered with snow, hiding his entrance whenever he transports fresh meat. The occasional Slitherbeast digging around doesn't see him as a threat thanks to his lack of presence, King even letting some of his kill remain outside to appease the beasts. Even traveling from the frigid land to the nearest magma river has proven itself useful, giving him security from Ferals daring not to tread beyond familiar territory.

King even finds himself with a renewed sense of purpose, every passing meal reminding him he's doing better than others may think. It took several tries, but never before has it felt good preparing a fresh batch of brisket all for himself, the meat lean yet flavorful as it coats his taste buds. He now knows why such a commodity is so sought-after and why Slitherbeasts hunt them for sustenance, rich in protein and with enough fat to naturally flavor even the most powerful members' oddly tender meat.

'This could go well with some warm Bramble Berry Syrup, or maybe some corn on the side, no cob. I bet Eda has a knife or two that can even cut them into pieces. What would Caribellow Stew taste like, especially with the zest of a freshly-squeezed lemon?' he wonders as he brings back his latest batch of seared brisket, salivating at the thought of his newest taste. 'Ooh, maybe when I bring some blackberry pudding it would be a nice dessert! Something cool, not frozen, when I-!'

His thoughts come to a pause upon noticing about a dozen subtle black glints far above him, up in the mountains. Neither Slitherbeast nor Caribellow comes to mind, their gazes directed with a mixture of hunger and curiosity, their thick fur and varying sizes indicating their security among their ranks.

'Toto-Hops? What are they doing?' he ponders, unconcerned given their lack of immediate threat.

They don't approach, but no matter how close the skull-headed being walks to home, none of them dare approach him. Only upon looking back at his steaming brisket, now lukewarm thanks to the cold and his pause, does he better understand their now-apparent hunger.

'Can't blame them. This stuff's great!' he realizes, taking a bite out of his meal. 'Sorry little guys, but I don't like sharing my food!'

He means it, keeping his eyes on the seemingly unmoving creatures as he saunters into his shelter, the door blocked off with thick slabs of stone he's gathered. It's fascinating seeing such seemingly dangerous foes in Hell, much less in a fluffle, reminding himself they're threats for a reason. Only the hungry stares of the Toto-Hops reminds him they're meat-eating beasts with nothing about their defenses known, the occasional peering from his entrance designed to ensure his home is safe, or at least unthreatened.

Alas, at least a dozen remain, including the largest of the lot. King estimates said largest to be about his size at least in weight, likely the leader of the team if nothing else. He suspects said leader's refusal to leave is why they've yet to return to whatever burrow or cave they tend to dwell within. If that's the case, it's likely the lot of them are waiting for the perfect time to attack if not scavenge his leftovers.

'...You gotta chase them off. Yeah it's rude but this is Cocytus! Even High Devils hesitate to roam here and these things are feared by the rest for a reason!' he rationalizes, looking over to the leftovers lying in the snow. '...Fine, I have some with me anyway.'

He killed one Caribellow, he can always find another somewhere out here. He chews slowly yet surely as he drags his leftovers away from his pillar and toward the Toto-Hops' location about 30 feet closer, just enough to make it clear he doesn't want they anyway. It's then the black-furred demon notices the Ferals begin to hop down the cliff and toward him, all the more reason to get inside. If they're truly as dangerous as his book claims, he refuses to allow himself to stay so vulnerable, not with so many in one place.

King keeps watch from his door as they approach the fresh kill, the smaller members, possibly young who've been recently weaned, beginning to nibble first. The cold has kept the meat fresh, all the more reason for the adults to tear off small chunks to make it easier for their young to eat. Only once the babies are finally able to eat and eat properly do the adults begin to feast, their chunks larger as they chew and watch over the young, no fewer than two adults per child, the leader just above one of the smaller infants.

'They're making sure their future members are healthy once they grow up. That's... honestly pretty cute,' he admits to himself, pondering for a moment. 'I bet Luz would like to see these guys in action; they're no otters, but they're not too different, right? Fluffy, small, not common in Hell...'

The survivor's curiosity grows as more than a third of the beast is gone in half an hour, not a single different demon in sight. To him it's all the more proof that Toto-Hops are indeed treated as something to fear, none daring to so much as make themselves clear, assuming they're hiding outside of sight. Such a truth does nothing to change the fact all of the Toto-Hops are little more than scavengers who happen to appear in groups.

'...Come to think of it, why do Ferals fear these things?' he ponders, watching the leader tear a piece from the Caribellow's neck. 'It's not only intense, it's outright instinctual; something's happened enough where even if something never saw Toto-Hops before, even Slitherbeasts dare not approach them even in desperation. But why?'

Such a question continues to invade King's thoughts the longer he watches them. Only when about half of the Caribellow's remaining meat has been devoured does everyone begin hopping off, the lot cleaning themselves and each other as they disappear into the storm.

At least while preparing himself, King can say he has a mission for himself: discover the secrets of the Toto-Hops.

Chapter Text

Everyday only further confirms to King that Cocytus is nothing less than hellish even compared to the rest of the realm. Even at its calmest, the eternal storm refuses to stop blowing about, his vision, accustomed to the smoldering standard terrain of Hell, failing to see any further than several hundred feet in front of him, especially when Caribellows and Slitherbeasts can smell further than that. The only solace he has is that his fur prevents him from freezing to death, feeling chilly yet not unbearably so. He can only count his blessings and his preparations, a sack of fresh meat by his side as he follows where the Toto-Hops once were.

'The tracks are no doubt cleared away thanks to the cold and I don't even know what they smell like. No way I can track them that way,' he notes to himself, not recalling a scent other than raw meat. 'No matter, the book says the Toto-Hops prefer caves... and Cocytus is filled to the brim with cave-littered mountains. Either way, just to be safe...'

It's his best bet regardless, keeping himself on-guard as he searches high and low for any cave possible. Even if he can't find the creatures, the least he can do is use said openings to protect himself from the storm until he can make it back to his pillar; worst-case scenario, he can look for the edge of the land and return to his pillar that way. Such details do little to actually find said rabbit-like Ferals, all the more reason to remain careful regardless of the creatures' apparent non-danger.

All the while, he can’t help but wonder what exactly makes Toto-Hops so dangerous to begin with. Yes they’re meat eaters like any other beast, yes they travel in groups, yes they consume Magmin to remain warm internally in even the most intense of snowstorms, but none of it explains all other creatures’ reactions. They don’t seem overly aggressive, they’ve made no confirmed kills from what King has seen, he hasn’t even seen them interact with anything beyond their own kind, meaning they’re most likely solitary demons. At least by discovering why other beasts, even the mighty Slitherbeasts, refuse to confront the, directly, then perhaps he can use that to his advantage. King is sure if he can somehow remain in the bunny-like Ferals’ good graces, then perhaps the threat of other, more hostile beasts can be diminished on his end. The potential shelter such an outcome could present is all the more reason for King to study them and discover their secret.

One high mountain, separate from most of the terrain even among mountains, catches his eyes upon noticing signs of Ferals: tracks, swiftly getting buried by the unending snow from above, smaller than even his minuscule footsteps. They lead high into the peaks, all the more reason for King to investigate to see for sure. Each step upward is held back by a slippery surface beneath the white, powdery snow, his body shivering from both the cold anticipation. At long last, the answer to the burning question is his to know first. He's destined to make history, even if said history might not be accepted as truth in that moment.

What the black-furred being comes across upon finally reaching the top, his paws aching with every movement, both surprises and disappoints him.  The den is largely ice-layered There's little more than a den filled with Toto-Hops, the same dozen or so from before, only this time minding their business, whatever it may be. The youngest scamper and occasionally play, one Hoplet leaping over the other in a form of entertainment, the leader watching over the children, and with the other adults keeping a close eye on King himself. Not only is their den under invasion in their eyes, they don't even recognize whatever their visitor is.

'Whoa... Yeah, they're probably solitary,' he reasons, recognizing his targets are most likely unused to beings actively seeking them out. 'No matter, just gotta offer them some meat.'

He reaches into his sack to reveal some fresh Caribellow Steaks, provided flavor via excess fat acting as gravy to marinate the morsel. The scent alone is enough for the young to stare at their visitor with a mixture of fascination and curiosity, only for the leader to thump their hind legs in protest. Only a single Hoplet refuses to back down completely, approaching slowly as two more adults approach the familiar yet tantalizing meat.

"See? I'm not gonna hurt you. I just wanna figure out what the deal is with you," he assures them, placing the meat on the ground before slowly backing away. "No problem, enjoy as much as it as you want."

The distance gives the Toto-Hops the assurance the being before them doesn't wish to cause trouble, the braver Hoplet being first to take a bite. The fat-based gravy motivates it to chew harder, breaking off a piece before chewing with satisfaction, softly honking and "oinking" as a result. It's the first time King has witnessed the beings act as anything more than wild beasts, several adults approaching before chewing off larger pieces to feed their young. Only their leader remains hesitant, its eyes narrowing as it approaches the newcomer with suspicion. Why would something feed them so willingly? What does King hae to gain by feeding a potential threat? Why is he here to begin with?

"Whoa, take it easy, I don't want to harm you," the smaller demon assures the Toto-Hops' leader, backing away further. "I have more meat if you want, that and there's plenty of it where that came from. You guys sure eat, huh?"

The leader neither approaches nor backs away, curious about the new face, only considering letting him stay thanks to his offering. At least with the meal they won't have to waste body heat traveling for a meal. It's nothing immense, but the bunny-like Feral will gladly accept something over nothing. To show gratitude, it approaches several steps, thus giving King permission to more than gladly pet it, much to his intrigue. He's felt no fur softer, not even his own, than Toto-Hop Fluff, rubbing his paws all along his new friend's warm fur, better understanding how they can roam from the eternal blizzard to the nearest magma river without freezing to death.

The sight of their leader being pet draws the attention of all the present Toto-Hops, much to the skull-headed demon's caution and intrigue.

Chapter Text

It's been at least several days, but Luz can't stop worrying about her little brother. He's never been away for any longer than an hour or two, and given the note he's left behind, at least she knows where he's at. She's seen what he's capable of, yet all the same she worries, her plans briefly put on hold since one of her greatest allies have been caught supposedly causing minor mischief once again. More healing potions, more time to group up with her friends, more time to ponder just what King is up to.

'You know him, he's King! He's stronger than any regular demon and he can survive the cold temperatures just fine!' she concludes, remembering her baby brother's thick fur. 'You just have to wait for him to come by sometime. He can't stay out there forever, there's no candy in Cocytus anyhow.'

She knows better than to stop her brother's ambitions, how he wants to prove he's more than just her sibling in the grand scheme of things. He knows what to do with other demons, especially the Ferals, should he need to, and yet her worry refuses to lower. Like it or not, King's still her brother; of course she'd be worried even if he went into Bonesborough by himself.

Eda can't help but notice her eldest kid's worry, taking a seat with a glass of Apple Blood before asking, "Still worried about the little fluffball?"

"Why wouldn't I be? Cocytus is the deadliest landscape in all of Hell, and the rest of it's mostly fire and lava, Sugar Forests, or other settlements! Not even other High Devils go there without a reason, and King just... went!" she nearly shouts, unused to having one of her own disappear, even with good reason. "What can I do when he's in Cocytus? What if a Slitherbeast tries to eat him?"

"Not a lot, but you can show support and be there when he needs you," Eda suggests, patting her daughter figure's shoulder with her free hand. "I knew I had to let you leave the nest eventually, so to speak. I guess King was just ready earlier than I thought he'd be. It sucks, yeah, but at least you know where to find him."

"And find his body? Ams was there as a kid, the only reason she didn't die was because she didn't want to lose her family. You were out there, you almost froze to death, not even from any of the other creatures!" Luz recalls with panic, her heart racing at the thought of her mother figure nearly becoming a lifeless fixture. "How is waiting supposed to help us keep King safe?!"

The Owl Lady understands her eldest child's worries, refusing to let her spiral even by proxy as she gulps the last of her Apple Blood and sets the mug down. If she wants Luz not to worry, she needs assurance, at least enough to know there's nothing to fear.

"Kid, listen carefully. King's tougher than he lets on and he's a ball of fluff in most people's eyes. I've seen him tear through the Wastelands' scraps, and I can tell you it's far more durable than even a Slitherbeast's hide and bones," she assures her, only for her to express doubts of her own. "...Admittedly it's not easy remembering that when I saw the note, but we know where he is and we know what he looks like. He has that book too, so should the worst come up, he can defend himself. And unfortunately... this might be a good thing."

The smaller woman can't help but feel her heart skip a beat knowing Eda the Owl Lady, one of the strongest demons she knows, express her fears in such a manner. It makes hearing King intentionally leaving for Cocytus and approving of such a thing make her weary, her golden eyes narrowing at the thought. Her tail sways lightly as she listens carefully, wanting a good reason the demon who raised her would say such a thing, her glare unflinching as she waits for her to respond.

"...Heh, look at me, giving advice after the kinds of stunts I've pulled. The point is that you're moving out someday, right?" Eda points out, watching as Luz nods slowly after a couple of seconds. "Same goes for King. He's gonna leave the house someday too, and he's not one to enjoy looking small and cute. Of course you're the exception, but other demons?"

Such statements start to make sense to the young woman, digesting the truth that things are changing bit by bit. Her allies in the Blight Territory are preparing their move and need her help, her friends are preparing their end of the attack, the status quo's being challenged. She just didn't know such a thing would extend toward her own home and family, even if it makes sense now. Luzifer's only certainty is that assuming nothing goes out of control, her little brother will be alright more or less.

'...I can't keep him as just my baby brother, not forever. He still has a life outside Eda and I,' she sighs, accepting the truth and understanding King's desires at least a bit more.

All she can do now is nod, admitting, "Okay, but if something goes wrong-"

"We'll help out. He's a Clawthorne just like you," Eda encourages, lightly ruffling her daughter figure's hair. "Until then, we can only wait, and King knows he has somewhere he can call home no matter what."

Luz wonders if this is part of becoming a mom, learning to accept one can't control everything or keep her young. It feels wrong, and she's just a sister compared to a proper mom, and yet at the same time it makes sense. Even assuming King truly does find what he's looking for, even assuming his life beyond the walls of their home is what he needs, she can't stop worrying. Such a thing is what she must accept though; King will return once he's ready, and once he does, he'll have someone to assure him, just as he's done for her and her endeavors.

"...Thanks for ripping the bandage off," Luz murmurs, purring as she nuzzles into Ms. Clawthorne's hand. "It hurts a little, but... yeah, I think I needed to hear that."

Eda smiles and gently embraces her eldest child, certain that all will be under control.

Chapter Text

One detail about studying Ferals, much to King’s intrigue, is the ability to study said beasts up close whenever one has the chance. Others can only do so much just from the pages from a book, perhaps allowing the brave to discover details not even a professional could have known prior. The risk is great depending on the Feral, especially if said beast is from Cocytus of all landscapes, but King doesn’t care for such a detail. He wants to know the truth about Toto-Hops even if he has to risk freezing, and it was only recently he finally made some small yet significant discoveries over the past week.

To his surprise, Toto-Hops aren't hostile on sight, much to both his fascination and disappointment. Other local demons, without fail, always keep a distance further than they can see, their keener sense of smell preventing them from running into them if their eyes fail to spot them in time. To hear of such a thing has lead to curiosity, but to witness such a phenomenon directly, a couple of Caribellows immediately rushing to escape even the possibility of encountering the young, surprises King, leading to more questions. What do Toto-Hops possess that make all other demons fear them instinctually? Why does even multiple creatures at once not dare try to attack the fluffle?

The friendliness of the Hoplets has provided him with more answers than he once thought possible. The lack of flab beneath their fur, in spite of their gluttonous diets, suggests both great muscle density and ravenous appetites even for a Feral species. Each Toto-Hop is born from the start with thick, partially dull claws, perfect for burrowing through rocks and snow without getting trapped in a storm or tearing apart pieces of meat from a fresh source of food. Several of the young, even a few of the adults, occasionally play with one another by having one jump over the other as they rush toward them, a sign of higher intelligence than King thought possible. To survive is one thing, but to find entertainment even within the frigid wasteland shows to him Toto-Hops didn’t merely make Cocytus their home; they’ve thrived for a long time.

All the while, however, he sees no real reason to truly fear the cutest creatures in all of Hell, at least by what Luz would consider as such. Every one of the Toto-Hops chooses to only leave their den either to gather food, never inflicting a kill and scavenging whatever a fearful beast leaves behind, or just outside Cocytus to devour Magmin to keep their bodies warm. Never once has a Toto-Hop left their home without everyone else, the leader refusing to allow compromise. It’s clear to King they act as a collective unit, always together and never separate, understanding they have a greater chance of survival when together than apart. All such details can be seen as odd or systematic to King, but not once has he truly witnessed the supposed might even a single Toto-Hop possesses. He knows he’s missing something, but he can’t find what said something may be.

His only certainty is that by giving the fluffle meat, he cemented himself as an ally, one of the Hoplets refusing to inch away whenever possible.

To investigate the Toto-Hops, in spite of their uncertain threat, hasn’t been a complete loss to the youngest Clawthorne. Because of the lack of apparent details on such creatures even in their numbers, it’s only fair he gets a chance to tread where not even the keenest have dared tread.

A sweet scent, usually blocked off by either meat or the blizzard outside, emanates from every Feral, each subtly different from the other. King manages to identify a stronger, almost cherry-like scent from the leader, apparently a male, along with his son who possesses a similar yet weaker scent, possibly strawberry. From green apples to grapes to even pineapple, King suspects they have scent glands or an equivalent somewhere on their body to make themselves known to both other Toto-Hops and local fauna.

’If that’s true… that must be how the other Ferals know when to run!’ he concludes, clapping his hands together with intrigue. ‘They must be smelling the sweet scent and mistake it for danger after hundreds of thousands, maybe millions of years! Why else would such fear be so ingrained?’

To believe such an idea without true evidence is difficult, nearly impossible without possibly harming his new friends, and yet King refuses to betray the trust he’s been given. The Fluffle has done nothing wrong, just act as animals trying to keep themselves alive and healthy in an environment best suited for nothing less than the most dangerous beasts Hell has ever seen. He’ll study them, he’ll gladly feed them, part of him wants to protect them, but he won’t dissect a living member. Even in Cocytus, such brutality feels needless to him.

Such discoveries aren’t the only thing he’s noted. Just a close look at the young makes it clear Toto-Hops don’t just devour Magmin; every tooth in their little mouths, save for the very front teeth, are akin to a row of daggers. Such a little detail makes sense given the utter lack of natural plant life, also suggesting they have a keen sense of smell. Such scavengers likely travel a great distance for a decent meal, all the more reason they would pick up any tasty-seeming scent just to maximize their meals and fill their little bellies.

’Maybe they wait for a Caribellow or Slitherbeast to die before devouring what they leave behind. Perhaps the blood of a fresh kill attracts them… and the smell of my meals attracted them by proxy,’ he realizes once more, snacking on some raw ribs while feeding one to the leader’s kid. ‘That explains why they want my food, they know I’m able to hunt, and so they want whatever I leave behind! Of course it’s nothing new, but now I understand the context better!’

The more King observes, the more he’s certain Toto-Hops just might be the most fascinating creatures in Hell. They prefer to avoid conflict yet anything that isn’t them chooses to flee. Scents that would attract predators instead make them run for their lives. Even the young are shown to be braver than most beasts literally hundreds of times their size and weight, traversing the unforgiving cold with barely a care in the world. The one thing he doesn’t know is just in what way “predators” see them as something to fear, but his own experience shows they’re more than just an omen.

He knows his studies aren’t yet complete, but given enough time, he’s sure the answer he seeks will reveal itself in due time.

Chapter Text

If there’s one thing King is certain of, it’s that trying to antagonize them is out of the question. Even the idea of actively using another demon to provoke the fluffle is pointless because they simply did nothing wrong, at least not as far as he’s concerned. The Toto-Hops are wild animals, hunting for survival, and other demons don’t even bother them to begin with. He doesn’t once recall a time a Feral approached even a Hoplet, all the more reason he believes trying to investigate aggressively wouldn’t have a point to it.

’Demons fear them for a reason, so perhaps Toto-Hops resemble another species… no, too convenient. Toto-Hops have been around for too long to be a brief fixture on Cocytus and few demons even have lagomorphic traits,’ he recalls, shaking his head while feeding his spare meat to the other bunny-like demons. ‘Maybe Slitherbeasts just don’t like the smell of fruit or candy? They’re not omnivores, so… Nah, there’s not once been a demon who despises candy; there’s no natural flora anywhere in this hellscape among hellscapes anyway. Though maybe Luz will let me use some grapes to test that theory out.’

His thinking doesn’t always flow toward the same idea, occasionally distracted by the habits of the Toto-Hops. Every interaction between themselves is filled with a sense of community, every member choosing to become active, most commonly when another joins them. Even the leader takes his child, apparently a son, on personal hunts for food, as if training him to become the next leader of the fluffle. The skull-headed demon can’t help but admire their cooperative behavior, a community in almost everything they do, sure the lot of them are among the more social Ferals in the realm.

What he didn’t expect was to find out the fluffle, not just the babies, takes part in recreation. Lounging with each other, snuggling up after a long hunt for food, even binkying over and under one another like how the young play. King suspects it’s all to reinforce their bonds, but the lack of any apparent necessity only makes him more certain they’re not just wild beasts. Caribellows are no more intelligent than rodents or other pests, hunting for survival, a stark contrast toward the devils he’s grown some degree of affection for.

Many of the Toto-Hops, seeing their visitor as a potential friend, allow him to get closer the longer he shows he’s no threat, backing away only when frustrated with something. Even the leader’s son chooses to nuzzle and apparently purr when King lightly scritches his back, trusting his new friend completely, the first of the fluffle to do so. For him it feels nice knowing his presence is accepted in spite of their differing species, proof the fluffy beings aren't nearly as hostile as the land's other beasts.

His curiosity grows when the leader approaches slowly one day, never once letting his son out of sight, never once backing away from King as he gently scritches his back. His lower purr compared to his son's, while a sign he's indeed an adult, also proves he doesn't see the black-furred being as a threat any longer. What point is there fearing something that nobody dares fear? Why was he hesitant to even investigate his visitor to begin with?

All the while, King can't help but feel a small bond begin to form, albeit suspecting it's mere bias. As he realizes Toto-Hop fur is softer and warmer than any creature's he's come across, including Slitherbeast and Caribellow, he can't help but wonder if Magmin is indeed necessary for their survival or if the warmth is a side effect of said substance. Such thoughts are buried as he continues to scritch the leader's back before reaching behind his ears, soon flopping after a long-unscratched itch has finally been relieved. He now understands how valuable bipedal beings happen to be, his trust in the food provider now absolute as he relaxes. For the first time in the fluffle's history, everyone feels a sense of peace.

One detail continues to flood King's mind, no matter how hard or how often he tries to convince himself otherwise. He can't continue to just refer to each member of the fluffle as "that one" or "this one" or "this baby"; even if it's simple, it makes tracking them harder in his mind; the scents they give off alone show they're more than just members of a group, rather individuals in some manner or another. If he's going to treat them like friends, the least he feels he can do is provide them names.

'What to call them, what to call them...' he ponders, a clawed hand to his chin as he attempts to come up with a name.

The leader's son climbs onto his head, loafing on his smooth, bony cranium before falling asleep, his trust in King absolute. Such a detail only further convinces his friend to come up with names for his new friends, Feral or not, finally coming up with something for the leader first and foremost. Such a choice feels necessary if not fitting, given if it weren't for his acceptance, he likely would have been forced to leave, assuming he wasn't cornered or devoured by the fluffle.

"So, big guy. I was thinking... how about Sqwonky? You know, as a name?" he suggests, trying to show there's nothing to worry about. "It's gonna be a bit hard trying to track everyone, so why not keep names for everyone just to be sure?"

Such an idea leads to the leader, "Sqwonky", sitting beside King, nibbling one of his Slitherbeast Steaks, allowing him to pet him longer than usual. Maybe it's laziness after pent-up millennia of keeping his fluffle safe, but knowing one of his allies sees him as more than a creature warms his heart. He recalls several head movements from bipedal beasts from millennia past, nodding in an attempt to show approval, relieved to see King's reaction be a positive one, reaching just under his belly to provide rubs. What little worry "Sqwonky" might have had, once replaced with a delicate trust is now reinforced, seeing no reason to even denounce King's ideas.

"...Alright, Sqwonky it is," King confirms with glee, being extra gentle as he scritches Sqwonky's son's chin. "And I'm gonna name this little guy Francois! I got a toy that's bunny-shaped, and you're about his size!"

It was on that day every member of the fluffle was given a name, the comradery between them and King growing stronger still.

Chapter Text

Boscha can’t believe she’s doing this. She knows what must be done for her mission to succeed, but she can’t believe she must head were few have dared tread and fewer returned from. Never before has she thought ice from a standard spell would feel akin to a fireball nor thought the subtlest of blizzard spells would resemble a warm shower, and yet the hellscape among hellscapes demands her presence. She knows what she needs, but she can’t stop dreading the one weakness in her personal yet.

’You know what you have to do! You know it’s somewhere in here, so get it!’ the Triclops orders herself, shivering just approaching a nearby mountain.

Her heavy coat does little to warm her body, her one true advantage being her third eye, providing extra sight through the eternal storm. The deep snow mixed with ice beneath makes every step difficult even with adequate gear, her bag of cold-resistance potions likely to be depleted by week’s end, assuming she doesn’t find her objective in that time. If she’s going to learn the land’s secrets, she needs to get started right away.

’Where is it? It should be here somewhere!’ she ponders with a mixture of anticipation and fascination. ‘C’mon, where are you?’

The youngest Mali heard the tales, how Cocytus was the capital city of Hell before Bonesborough, how the First Overlord resided within a palace said to be as regal as Heaven’s own. Now said ruins lay beneath the land, lost to time, hidden from prying eyes. Many have sought out the Primordial’s, the First Overlord’s, treasure, whatever it may be or may have been, only to either return wounded and empty-handed or never at all, future evidence of the anomalous landscape’s danger. Boscha, however, refuses to let Cocytus claim her.

‘Amity mentioned seeing a giant door she was scared to go through. That must be where the artifacts are!’ the three-eyed demon concludes, trudging forward further. ‘The Primordial has something in there, maybe it cast a spell to make just opening the door difficult. Then again, Amity was still young and likely got scared like the child she was at the time. I’m no child, therefore-‘

Grrrrr…

Ms. Mali halts in her tracks at the sound of the growl, her own caution set aside upon spotting a familiar beast from her beloved’s tales. One of the many Slitherbeasts lifts its gums, blue eyes filled with hunger visible as it prepares to charge. Boscha, however, refuses to let a mere Feral take her life, stretching her arms out before preparing to charge forward; if Amity could deal with fifty of them as a child, she can handle one as an adult.

”C’mon you freak! You wanna eat?! Earn your keep!” she shouts, her certainty in her own power absolute. “I didn’t come here to-!”

THWAK

She isn’t given a second before the apex predator rams into her front, sending her into the snow before attempting to bite down upon her upper torso. The three-eyed woman screams from pain and fear as she struggles to hold the beast’s jaws open, straining from the Feral’s jaw strength alone. The Slitherbeast offers no mercy in its starving state, briefly roaring before reaching its claws within its own mouth, desperate to either chew her up or take her out.

Boscha can feel her strength waning as her pincer tail extends and clamps down upon the feral’s tongue, spilling blood and giving her the advantage as it finally tries to force her out. Even as its claws dig into her side in the process, it can’t completely ignore the pain that was inflicted, a sign the bipedal devil before it won’t go down so easily. A low whimper escapes its throat as it takes a step back, trying to determine whether continuing to fight or to run would be wise.

Only the sight of said biped running for her life brings the beast relief. The thought of finding a carcass seems right, certain at least such a source of food won’t damage its still-bleeding tongue, no longer gushing crimson.

’This doesn’t make any sense! I’ve been preparing for my role for millennia! How could I nearly fall to a Slitherbeast?!’ Boscha balks as she retreats deeper into the storm, for once fearing for her life. ‘How?!’

Before she was even an adult, Amity survived for about a month and hunted down 50 Slitherbeasts for tags, coming back stronger than when she entered. Boscha wasn’t here for anymore than an hour and yet she was nearly eaten alive by one of them, and she was aware of their strengths. She was told they prefer to only hunt local beasts for greater meat, not smaller creatures of unknown origin. It’s at that point the three-eyed traveler became convinced Amity lied to her.

’How could you?! I promised we could rule Hell together, and this is how you repay me, your wife?!’ the Triclops exclaims to herself, spotting a nearby pillar of ice, hoping to hide just until her predator’s no longer in smelling range. ‘…No, she said she snuck up on them. She didn’t kill them; she looted them for tags! Yeah, she’d never betray me!’

Such a thought calms her slightly, pondering why the idea of betrayal came to mind to begin with. She knows Amity’s been distant as of late, mentioning uncertainty about the future, but said secrets about her visit were something she mentioned prior to noticing her change in behavior. Even Ms. Mali’s mothers noticed such a change, only brightening up when eating their cherry pies or talking with them.

’…No matter, surely there’s something here I can use,’ she rationalizes, sniffing the air and noticing a familiar scent. ‘Wait… What’s that?’

The ground near her is coated in blood and raw meat, contrasting the almost pristine snow, the red fluid staining her boots as she investigates further. She can’t tell who or what may be in Cocytus, but she knows they must be highly intelligent, having cut their slabs of flesh into both larger chunks and smaller pieces. Given Slitherbeasts’ status as apex predators, and considering their refusal to let their prey slip from under them, much less cut them so specifically it leads her to conclude one thing.

’Someone else is out here. They actually think they can find the treasure, don’t they?’ she sneers, smirking as she grabs the largest piece available, what appears to be a brisket. ‘Too bad; nobody knows where it is except me. All I need to do is find a way underground! The poor bastard thinks there’s just a random opening in a mountain, just begging archaeologists to plunder them.’

As the ambitious face disappears into the blizzard biting into the raw Caribellow meat, the snow loosens up and is blown away, revealing a door into the ice pillar she just missed.

Chapter Text

King knew he had to return home eventually. With a stable system in place and an idea of what to do established, the skull-headed demon now knows he can safely go to and from the fluffle, assuming he gathers the right supplies once again. He’s run out of snacks, he has an idea on what spices to bring this time, and with Sqwonky’s fluffle now established as friends and vice versa, he can ensure greater bonds for what’s to come.

’Ooh, maybe Francois will want to taste some Caribellow Rump Steaks! They need a little washing, but they’re firm yet flavorful if given the right seasonings,’ he ponders, gathering up his bag before looking into his stash of raw meat. ‘Hmm… Weird. I could’ve sworn I had more meat than this.’

His Caribellow Brisket, the largest of the lot, is missing. High and low, he can’t find it, suspecting a feral found it before running off, the rest of the food not nearly as tantalizing. He sighs with disappointment and shakes his head before gathering a steak, aiming to eat a juicy cut before heading home; it was only a matter of time before his stash was found by another carnivore.

The last thing he wants, however, is to get lost. He grabs the back of the faulty map to draw his own during his trek home, keeping watch for landmarks to ensure he doesn’t risk losing sight of his home away from home. The young demon found a whole group of friends, the last thing he needs is to lose them after one visit. He remembers everyone from Jelly Bean to Sir Teddy all watching him depart, prepared to see him return safely, all the more reason for him to go in, gather his things, and head back out as soon as possible. His studies aren’t complete, he still needs to grow stronger, yet he knows returning home may be healthy.

’I… did leave without saying goodbye properly,’ he realizes, the normal heat of the Underworld gracing his fur once more. ‘Yeah I should probably tell them I’m fine. Maybe they could see my friends too! Yeah they might be untrusted for a bit, but neither was I!’

Such a thought brings him a sense of hope. If he could be trusted by the most feared locals in all of Cocytus, then it’s only a matter of time before Luz and Eda will be liked as well. All he needs to do is show them where they are, and then hopefully everything will go according to plan.

The sight of a familiar landmarks, from a decayed tree to an arm-shaped rock formation, makes him more determined, his map thoroughly filled out as he stretches his limbs out before knocking and entering.

Eda can’t lie, it’s not the same without King lining up his stuffed animals and commanding them as if they were demons themselves. Even the snacking of sweets throughout the day is something she misses from time to time, tempered by the knowledge she can’t r keep King with her forever. She may not have laid their eggs, but she still cares for them as a mother would, a book on Empty Nest Syndrome keeping her thoughts from turning toward the worst.

’King’s tougher than he looks, he’ll be fine. Probably… No, he’s gonna be alright,’ she reminds herself, looking over to her eldest kid.

Luz’s worries have turned bittersweet compared to the pure bitterness from before. Memories of how King has proven himself strong in his own right calm her worries that he might be in danger of other beasts, remembering the Owl Lady’s claims of his strength. However, the time he’s been away continue to bother her, having heard no signs of his whereabouts since his departure. She at least knows where to search, the idea of visiting him quelled by the reminder she can’t force her baby brother to have her over or-

knock knock knock

“King!”

The front door opens to reveal the devil in question, and before King can get a word out, Luz scoops up King and nearly crushes him in a hug of relief.

”Good to… see you too!” the younger demon gasps, barely able to breathe. “Please…!”

”Oh, sorry,” his sister chuckles nervously, setting the skull-headed being down.

King gasps for air as he takes a seat at the table, prepared to explain his side of things to relieve tension if anything. The sight of King returning home safe and sound brings Eda relief, joining her kids out of curiosity.

"There's the man of the hour! So, how was Cocytus?" she perks up, wanting to know what her youngest was up to.

"Cold, full of ice and snow, the ferals were strong and dangerous, pretty much as expected. The map wasn't all that good," King sighs, revealing the "official" map before flipping it over, more relieved now that something reliable is in sight. "Just needed to mark down some landmarks and now I can get back to Sqwonky in less time!"

"Sqwonky? What's a Sqwonky?" Eda questions, Luz scratching her chin at the mention. "Did someone establish a town there? More importantly, how? It's a wasteland!"

"No no, I named a bunch of Toto-Hops. Sqwonky's the leader and he has a son I named Francois!" the youngest Clawthorne exclaims, pointing to the bunny-shaped heads all around the end of his map. "I didn't know what to do other than survive there, but then I saw Sqwonky and his fluffle come down and eat some Caribellow. I didn't know something so small could eat so much!"

"Well I fed you two, so..." the Owl Lady quips, lightly patting her skull-headed kid's head. "Oh well, there's plenty of meat cuts to choose from. I'm sure they'll manage."

The mention of such gluttony leads the three to laugh, it having been some time since they've all taken the time to simply relax and talk about a story. It feels to them as if life has returned to something simpler, something before change has begun to occur in their lives. All the while, King continues to tell his story, how the Toto-Hops aren't just ferals who happen to be feared, but complex, caring creatures who happen to be dreaded by even Slitherbeasts. Such mentions seem to perplex Eda and make Luz more than eager to listen more, wanting to know if Toto-Hops are just as adorable as they seemed from the Book of Demons.

Such minor details, insignificant to some, only reinforce King's resolve to show his family Sqwonky's fluffle.

Chapter Text

King didn't return simply to tell stories, gathering supplies for a fresh new system for both himself and his new friends, including small crates to transport his food safer and in greater amounts. A small crate of seasonings and smaller snacks on top of a larger crate for cooked meats only confirms to Luz that he wants to make better food for the fluffle, Eda keeping watch for potential threats to her kid's operation. She didn't come out here to see King's efforts, no matter how strange for some, end up for nothing; she wants to confirm something anyway, and this might be the best chance she has.

As King had insissted, his own map has been more accurate in spite of the lack of distances displayed, leading himself and his family straight toward his pillar. The remnants of his food are halved compared to when he left, numerous small bite marks visible across them as King enters his pillar to set aside the gear.

”Hey, sorry about disappearing like that,” he admits, more meek than usual. “I wanted to prove myself like Luz is doing, but I could’ve at least given a heads up.”

”It’s okay, I… didn’t exactly give context when Amity and I were planning either,” his sister quips, embarrassed as she lightly pats her brother’s head. “Ask Eda if you don’t believe me.”

“I taught you two so well.”

All that’s left is the toward toward the cliff’s cave, the Owl Lady’s body growing small plumes of feathers to resist Cocytus’ cold, Luz’s tail wrapping across her own body for a matching purpose. King presses onward, bringing along with him a crate filled with fresh Caribellow meat, unmoved by the land’s attempts to keep him away from his friends. He didn’t come all this way just for a blizzard to stop him, much less his family, the subtle symphony of squeaks and scampering heard just up ahead.

”Are those…?” Eda begins, intrigued.

”Yep! Luz, Eda,” King announces, gesturing to a familiar cave entrance, “Meet Sqwonky’s fluffle!”

At least a dozen of the bunny-like ferals roam about the cave, some in the middle of eating, others playing, and Sqwonky himself, the largest of the lot, approaching slowly. Only the sight of King prevents him from acting right away, neither face familiar as he lets King pet him. A scent of fresh food, the strength suggesting more than usual, makes him more curious as the smaller new being, at least double King’s height, crouches down with stars in her eyes.

”Awww! Why didn’t you tell us they’re so cute up close?!” she nearly squeals with glee, reaching out a hand, only for Sqwonky to nudge himself away. “Oh. Right. Not used to us yet.”

”That’s fair,” Eda admits, turning to King. “So these are the scariest things in Cocytus, huh? Doubt it, but clearly they’re doing something right. Can’t deny that.”

”Yeah, that’s the thing I still don’t get. They don’t do much besides relaxing and eating when outside, but-“ the smallest family member explains, noticing Francois approach with interest of his own. “And look who it is, Sqwonky’s son! Francois, this is my own family. The girl with black wings is Luz, my sister, and the white-haired lady’s Eda. She’s the mom figure.”

Such a comment leads Eda to look away indignantly, trying to resist the urge to pat Francois, only to notice how Luz is allowed by Sqwonky to pet him. Never before has she pat something so snuggly before, soft purrs emanating from Francois’s throat as he nuzzles into the bronze-skinned demon’s fingers. Sqwonky can’t help but notice that not only are the new faces seeming to be non-threats after all, one of them smells familiar.

The second Eda gives the same affection to Francois, she’s no longer able to deny the truth: she’s been here before. It was millennia ago, but she faintly remembers coming across a deep cave with Toto-Hops, and here she is in a familiar situation, just on better terms than before. Such familiarity is mutual as Sqwonky, no longer believing his fluffle to be at risk, approaches Eda specifically, the scent of Apple Blood unmistakable as he lets her scritch his head. She hesitates before providing such affection, listening to the leader’s low purrs, both familiar with the being before him and now certain she’s of no threat.

”…King, I’m gonna sound crazy, but I think Sqwonky and I met before,” the Owl Lady admits, unable to deny the facts laid before her. “Remember that story where I went to Cocytus that one time?”

”Something about treasure, yeah. Why do you ask?” King questions, hesitant to believe such an outlandish claim without reason. “Sqwonky… isn’t usually this friendly with someone, at least not right away. Even I took a few days before he let me pet him.”

”I ran into a bunch of Toto-Hops at a cave, and it just so happens we’re in a cave leading deeper into the ground. I remember running into a baby in particular, and he was… not gonna lie, pretty cute,” the eldest Clawthorne confirms, crossing her arms upon finishing scritching Sqwonky’s head. “I think Sqwonky’s that same Hoplet. That’s the proper term, right?”

Sqwonky does nothing to suggest his friend’s claims are false, flopping beside her to show complete trust in the first being he’s come to like. Even if the visit was brief, it proved there’s bipedal creatures out there that won’t try to harm his kind, all the more reason to show that same trust. Sqwonky lightly licks at the gold-toothed demon’s fingers whenever they near his face, what little doubt there may have been forever buried as Luz looks onward with glee.

”It’s one thing to know about the story, but seeing proof is another thing entirely,” she murmurs, unable to stop petting the Toto-Hops that approach her one by one. “You have a whole nest of friends to snuggle up with! Look at them they’re precious!”

Jelly Bean can’t help but grow fascinated with a furless demon’s skin, nuzzling it in an attempt to familiarize with it. Sir Teddy, meanwhile, is fascinated with the newcomers’ wings, always just beneath them and never letting them leave her sight. Francois in particular quickly grows fond of King’s family, hopping up onto Luzifer’s shoulder before lightly lapping at her cheek, more than happy to have said newcomers as friends. All others show their fascination in one way or another, proof Luz and Eda are indeed apart of their fluffle by proxy.

Bu the end of the day, every Toto-Hop in the cave both trusts King’s “fluffle” and let them pet them at least once.

Chapter Text

A week has passed and King hasn’t needed to dip into his snack stash even once. With Luz and Eda now aware of his whereabouts and certain of his safety, they see little reason to fear his departure for the time being; they'll still be worried, but he supposes that's what it means to be family.

His time in Cocytus is already bearing fruit for himself, his muscles still small yet his strength seems to have doubled in one manner or another, by proxy resulting in him fending off against Caribellows with fewer problems every time. His body temperature has remained relatively stable the longer he remains exposed, pondering if demons have such an advantage and that he simply stuck around long enough to find out for sure. Whatever the reason, all he knows is that his visit has gone according to plan.

As he feeds Francois some brisket, he can't help but look toward the cave at the back of the Toto-Hops' home. He's never given such an idea much thought, only truly reminded at the mention of Eda going treasure hunting millennia ago, in turn becoming one of few to enter and leave Cocytus alive. The black-furred demon wonders just what could be so precious that even his mother figure tried to search, the thought of treasure beyond comprehension bolstering his courage by the second.

'Eda's one of the toughest demons one can find in this realm! If she could find something and come out pretty much fine,' he wonders, a glint in his eyes forming as he watches Sqwonky approach him, 'what would happen if I, with a better idea what's going on, were to go in there?'

It makes perfect sense to him. Eda had no idea where to go, and yet she stumbled upon Sqwonky's fluffle and managed to enter the chambers below, only now he knows how to get in and out. He might not have her magical prowess or Luz's fire magic, but he feels it's unnecessary for what's to come next. He's not sure what remains below, assuming anyone even managed to get into Cocytus' ruins long before, but if nobody else has, it just means he'll have an easier time picking up whatever remains. All he needs to do is enter the cave and witness history and the loot just waiting to be collected.

Sqwonky can tell his new friend is up to something, choosing to loaf beside the skull-headed demon and lean into his side, trusting him more knowing he's Eda's child, regardless of blood connection. It matters little that King might have come for reasons unknown, the glint only appearing after Eda's arrival confirming he's truly someone his fluffle can trust. Everyone from Candy Apple to Pecan Pie trusts the newcomer and his family, therefore he sees little reason to feel distrust, especially since King has fed them his leftovers of his own free will. Such thinking is what he would've done had he not accounted for one object he's failed to collect.

Something King has failed to gather was a single light source in all his time, pondering if his eyes have adjusted even marginally since spending time with the Toto-Hops. What he doesn't expect to ponder, however, is whether Toto-Hops could navigate underground tunnels; after all, normal bunnies, as far as he knows, prefer to live underground in burrows. He lacks knowledge on their non-demonic counterparts, but he'll know for certain whether Toto-Hops truly can see in the dark one way or another.

An eager digger and a mother, Lieutenant Scruffy, notices her friend's interest in the tunnel and chooses to join him in whatever comes next. Her daughter's growth has been guaranteed with such a secure food source; she feels the least she can do is provide some aid in the cave's tunnel. Lieutenant Scruffy takes the lead without King's input, much to his fascination, as they step deeper into the den, both to his fascination and Sqwonky's intrigue. Such intrigue doesn't last long, nuzzling his son to reinforce the bond he's had with him for so long now. Sqwonky knows his time won't be forever, that something will be brave enough to eat him someday, but that doesn't mean he can't prepare his son for the day such an event comes.

King's theories have both been proven correct, much to both his delight and fascination. Not only have his own eyes indeed adjusted to the perpetual semi-dark the caves provided, his friends seem to have evolved to the darkness they've lived under. Raw stone and eras-old ice line every surface in sight as he and Lieutenant Scruffy traverse deeper than almost any demon before, his friend sniffing for danger before putting one little paw in front of the other. He's never seen such apparent caution in a Toto-Hop's steps before, suspecting the deeper one goes, the more dangerous things may appear.

'...No, she's just trying to keep me safe,' he reasons, knowing Toto-Hops aren't nearly as mindless as their surface-level behavior suggests. 'Of course they'd want to keep me safe. Why would they snuggle up to me and my family after enough time? Luz definitely seemed to enjoy their company.'

The memories warm his heart, wanting to see a similar smile when she and Eda know what he's done. Even a single piece of precious metal will more than prove himself worthy of strength, thus ensuring the Clawthorne Family, while not high in status, mustn't be underestimated on any front. He can protect them all by proxy, he can protect the Toto-Hops, he'll ensure he's no longer seen as just "The Owl Lady's Son". He's King Clawthorne, Demonic Scholar and Survivor.

Lieutenant Scruffy manages to find herself before a familiar part of the tunnels, sniffing the air before resuming, relieved nobody has intruded upon her fluffle’s territory. She may not be a fighter, but she knows King is, relieved to see he’s keeping behind her just fine.

All around them they find more of the same, the occasional iced-over doorway just waiting to be opened one day. King doesn’t dare open them himself, worried his strength may destroy the door and possible artifacts; he needs lava and something to carry it. The ceiling stretches taller than even the Slitherbeasts by triple at least, suggesting to him something gargantuan in size lived here. Aged, tattered banners depicting a society lost to time catch his interest, wondering if he can gather even a single piece and return it.

’I was told this place was looted! Why’s there still so much stuff?’ the youngest Clawthorne ponders before shrugging. ‘More for me! I need to see if Toto-Hops love candy though; this one’s been a huge help.’

The end of the available rooms reveals a throne room, or at least he assumes it to be. He can’t find anything from a throne to even a crown, just a massive bed of ice coated in snow, carefully examining it to find out just who or what may have lived here.

’…Primordial, obviously. Then again no physical depiction exists beyond… summaries,’ he notes to himself with a shudder. ‘It died from sickness alone and said sickness was lost to time. And if the title of being the former Capital is anything to go off of...'

Suddenly there might be a reason why artifacts have become so rare; there's simply too few of them which can be carried out, not without damaging either the structures or perhaps the land itself. King's sure he can find something combined with his great strength and the favor of his lagomorphic comrades, softly scritching behind Lieutenant Scruffy's ears to show she's done well, at least in his own eyes.

First things first, he wants to find out what the layers of frigid ice and snow hides beneath.

Chapter Text

It hasn't even been a month and Boscha's troubles have only worsened with time. Every single day that passes is another problem she must deal with and more are to come. Thanks to multiple incidents with the beasts, on top of a newfound mild addiction to Caribellow meat, her wounds have only increased in both quantity and severity. Not even the finest healing potions have been able to keep up with how many ferals she can deal with at one time, her supplies depleting greatly by the day. At this rate it won't matter whether she obtains the treasures that lie hidden below; just escaping Cocytus will be more than sufficient to demonstrate her worth.

'Damnit! She had no potions! She had only her magic, and that was more than enough!' the three-eyed woman remembers, her fury growing by the second as she peers from within a Slitherbeast skeleton. 'Look at you, barely able to handle a few and forced to hide! She didn't hide, but prospered! She became a High Devil in all but name! You can fend them off, but you can't kill them! What kind of High Devil are you?!'

She refuses to become the next in the Mali Family to take a top position, not as long as she's weaker than she feels is necessary. The Triclops can't rise without her forces, and yet she can't convince them to join her unless she can prove her own worth. It's only a matter of time and her body has indeed adapted mildly to the unforgiving environment, it's not perfect; she's still easily wounded, she's starving more than she isn't, she must flee to conserve her potions and their effects.

Each den only further reminds Boscha of her apparent incompetence, every mistake leading her one step closer toward needing to retreat. She can always come back another day, yet her pride refuses to be quelled so easily. Amity didn't prove herself by simply escaping; she needed a test, even if it was ultimately revoked. Her beloved has made it clear the frozen wasteland is nothing short of horror even among horror, all the more reason for the violet-haired woman to search longer and harder for even the slightest hints of treasure. Such loot is buried somewhere, trusting Amity's reports to not lead her astray. Why would her wife betray her in possibly the worst way possible?

'Come on, she was looking for tags, not treasure. Just focus and find the nearest cave. Again,' she groans internally, shaking her head before finally making her way through the endless storm once again. 'You can find it, and with that treasure, you'll become a legend! Then maybe Amity can shut up about me not doing enough. We'll be so rich we won't have to work for a hundred years, I think that's a good enough source of gold, yes?'

Even as the heating across her body wanes, the three-eyed demon refuses to let herself submit to the cold. If the former capital wants to keep its treasure secured, then it will need more than a storm to stop her. Every second passing by is just one more second she needs to finally breach the land and find the ruins beneath. Yet another Slitherbeast den makes itself clear to her, her vision blurring from the snow as she marches forward, this time using her claws and tail to keep to the ceiling. The soft snores of a Slitherbeast family of five, maybe six, mark their locations, all blocking off a tunnel leading deep underground.

'Finally, it's... something,' the explorer sighs, hating that she can't become picky.

Just crawling above yields no positive results for the intruder, forced to crawl extra slowly to avoid causing excess noise. Even the subtlest of crackling ice could alert the adults, the babies just waiting for a reason to wake up and cause havoc for their caregivers. Icicles only make avoiding sound all the more complicated, using a heat-generating potion to hopefully melt the obstacles without alerting them anymore than necessary.

What she doesn't account for is the sudden temperature change to weaken the ceiling as well, loosening her grip just long enough to fall between the babies. The following thud awakens them all, three demon-consuming maws opening to reveal blue, fury-filled eyes staring directly into Boscha's.

There were indeed six Slitherbeasts, and three of them were adults. Her only certainty is that the young had no intention of hurting her; their parents felt no such reserves for the danger to their young. Five potions were lost in that one encounter, and now she's got a mere third of what she initially brought.

'Damnit! Either I starve to death or fight my way out and potentially die! How am I-?! NO!! Just... Think for a moment,' she reminds herself, albeit barely. 'You wanted to find out what's down here. Maybe there's a way out! Check your options, and maybe, just maybe, the treasure you seek is somewhere down here. That's why you came down here, right?'

She can't afford to go all-out, especially now. At least she has a lead, even if said lead is too vague to be of any use, but it's something. Rock, ice, and more of the two follow, occasionally coated with snow that became apart of the scenery. Her desire for treasure, even a single gold coin, will be more than worthwhile, proof she's more powerful than most would dare, especially since she's a Blight Family member by proxy.

'The twins wouldn't know diamonds from polished ice! Why would anyone else not try to claim glory?' she ponders, the heat still radiating from her body allowing her to pass the icy terrain with minimal issue. 'None! They just... Wait a minute...'

The stone beneath her slowly takes on the form of bricks, the frozen never quite disappearing completely as the Triclops scans the corridor. Doors, large ones capable of housing Slitherbeasts. Candlesticks and chandeliers of the finest crystals she's ever seen prepare to light the area, a simple fire spell providing light to the otherwise lifeless structure. At long last, Boscha is able to breathe without issue, her mission now one step closer to turning successful. For once, the Slitherbeasts were of use to her.

What catches the youngest Mali's interest, however, is a larger, frozen door toward the end of the corridor. The buildup of permafrost and fallen ice chunks alone confirms something long forgotten awaits discovery, her drive to push onward stronger than ever before. Not even Slitherbeasts can be heard sneaking up on her this time, glancing around for traps only to find not even a swinging blade or a touch-sensitive net. To her it just means her exit and pilfering will be easier to pull off, assuming she escapes.

Boscha is certain such a matter can wait, preparing a potion to remove her latest obstacle.

Chapter Text

The youngest Clawthorne keeps his promise and returns home with little issue, sighing as he slumps into the couch with both frustration and relief to have a warm bed to lie in. Someday he aims to give his friends something comfortable to lie in too, but until that day, they’ll have to make do. He knows they’ll make it, they have for millennia if Eda’s words are to be trusted, which he indeed trusts, though it doesn’t mean they have to persist needlessly if he has a say in the matter.

Eda takes a seat beside her son, noticing his expression isn’t completely joyful, asking, “Something bothering you, kid?”

”I checked out the ruins. I wanted to show I could handle myself by bringing something back. Even a coin would work if you ask me,” the skull-headed demon replies, sighing as he remembers exactly what he found. “At most I found a nest and maybe a banner or two, but there wasn’t anything. I think some folks looted it before Sqwonky set his fluffle in that cave.”

The mention of such a trip leads Eda to snicker, lightly patting her youngest’s head to show it’s okay, replying in earnest, “The fact you went in more than once and came out just fine’s more than most folks can say. Don’t sell yourself short; even Luz needed to get into a fight or two before being considered more than Fodder.”

“I know, I thought about that, but it feels… I dunno, bittersweet? Like I did something but it wasn’t entirely what I was hoping for,” the younger demon replies, acknowledging his desires aren’t the most realistic even with the resources he’s got. “Lieutenant Scruffy did a good job though and I learned more about Toto-Hops. For one, I think they can see in the dark, at least a little bit.”

The Owl Lady nods along, listening to her kid’s explanations as she pours herself another mug of Apple Blood. It’s been a long time since King’s seemed fulfilled with himself, and here he is making history, learning more about Hell’s most enigmatic ferals. What more can she ask for? It wasn’t until King was nearly done detailing that he ponders something.

”Anyhow, I was wondering. Did you find anything when you first went cave exploring?” he asks with intrigue, wanting to find out just what was found in there, if at all.

Such a comment gives the silver-haired woman pause, deflecting by insisting, "We'll talk about it with Luz, she'll need to hear about it."

"Hear about what?"

"Damnit," Eda mutters under her breath, not needing to turn her head to know just who entered the room. "Well it had to come out sooner or later. Just take a seat."

Luz can tell Eda might not want to talk about it, assuring her mother figure, "It's okay, we can talk about it some other time. So King, things going well in Cocytus?"

He details all he's learned and how the fluffle has come to see him as one of their own; what little doubt that might have remained is dead and buried. The only downside, all things considered, is his inability to have found anything in the eternal storm's ruins.

"Hey, it's not-"

"I know," King interrupts, touched but refusing to let there be confusion. "There's no shame in not finding anything, I didn't need to go down there, and I'm doing the best I can given the resources and my goals. Speaking of goals, what about you? I... sorry, haven't asked about that in a while."

The elder sibling's excitement grows, happy to detail that preparations are nearing completion, further elaborating, "All we need now is the perfect timing! We're thinking a year's time when everyone's off-guard. She doesn't like those kinds of surprises, all the more reason to make them surprises anyway."

"Ha! And people think you're just a nobody," King praises, lightheartedly jabbing Luz's arm. "The strongest family in the Boiling Isles and we need no title! Right?"

"I can get behind that," Eda confirms with a laugh, finishing the last of her mug. "Do me a favor and literally kick her out the door; regular junk's not selling as much lately."

King isn't entirely sure what he can do for his friends, just that keeping them safe is a priority, at least for him. Even if nobody wants to hurt the Toto-Hops themselves, they still have an entire tunnel behind them, and the ferals are smart enough to know when someone is or isn't a threat. On the other hand, because of their reputation, said beings are likely to scare even the paranoid demons who arrive.

'...No, don't overthink it. They keep to themselves and they'd rather avoid a fight than get into one,' he reminds himself, having observed their behavior for over half a month. 'Just get some spices and crates then go. Doesn't have to be anything big, just useful.'

The one thing he remembers to bring along is a couple of lanterns and several pints of fat-based oil. He isn't certain how good his eyesight can be, and with so many frozen doors hidden below, he can finally melt the ice without destroying potential artifacts. His fluffy companions did him good, and with extra crates to carry goods and increased strength, everyday could end with a feast at this rate.

'Am I spoiling them a little much? ...Yeah, probably, but they helped me. They actually helped me!' he realizes, fastening his new gear on his back. 'They're not mere ferals at all! They could be the missing link between us sapient demons and their kind!'

He doesn't know how else to put it. He always thought ferals were little more than just that, beasts meant to be fought off, hunted, or consumed. Sqwonky's fluffle is different, proving itself devoted to those they see as their own, able to form bonds with creatures beyond their kind, even knowing when someone does and doesn't need help. He knows it's only a matter of time, but sooner or later he'll find a way to show his friends just how much they mean to him, even if it's only been a few weeks and not years or even months.

'...They're friends. Even Eda was trusted by Sqwonky... No, don't get too sentimental, you have a job to do!' he reminds himself shaking his head before waving his folks goodbye. 'Next stop, Cocytus!'

Little does King now, he's not the only biped to roam the land.

Chapter Text

"Haha! Is that the best you can do?!"

The Slitherbeast keeps pushing down on King with all its might, only for its paws to be pushed back as it's topped onto its side. It roars before swiping its claws to the sides, aiming to knock the skull-headed being down and feast upon its unique meat. What it doesn't expect to happen is for the biped to use his smaller size to his advantage, ducking down before grabbing its hind leg, lifting with all his might before repeatedly slamming it into the ground, just enough to leave it dazed. The white-furred predator wasn't even able to cut its own predator's fur.

However, instead of finishing it off and consuming its flesh, the smaller demon approaches its mouth and opens it with little effort. What he finds leads to confusion, noticing a cut or lacerations along its tongue, perhaps a week or two old at most.

"Who did this to you, big guy?" he asks with intrigue, trying to piece together what other beast harmed a Slitherbeast of all things. "Caribellows' antlers are sharp, but you aim for their necks, not their antlers. Did one of them get a lucky hit or something?"

Such an idea is the only thing that makes sense in that moment. Few enter Cocytus out of either obligation, ego, or greed, and yet from what he recalls, not a single one of the few stories he’s seen leaves still-living Slitherbeasts with noteworthy wounds, much less on their tongues. Either someone tagged the beast or they’re actively hunting down this particular beast, at least as far as the black-furred demon can surmise.

”You hungry, bud?” he asks offering some Caribellow meat as a peace offering. “You got me what I wanted, so you get a prize. That’s not so bad, right?”

The beast lowers its gums, “sniffing” the offering before finally devouring the piece whole. Never before has it seen bipeds or heard of friendly ones, but the one before it offered food, bolstering its chances of survival. Its tongue still stings from the prior wound, but it doesn’t grow agitated, trilling from the skull-headed being’s mercy before walking off without a fight. The last thing it wants is to disregard such mercy.

King, however, knows there’s more to the situation than he can tell from a glance. Why would someone specifically attack the tongue of a Slitherbeast, and why would it become hesitant to attack after fighting off someone like him? Slitherbeasts are the supposed apex predators among ferals and yet it was happy with mere scraps offered in its favor. King wasn’t moving either, making less sense for something like the blue-eyed feral to not devour, sure the creature must have been starving.

King’s suspicions continue to grow the longer his third visit to Cocytus persists. Every Slitherbeast he comes across suffers from a worse wound than the last, some losing their nails, not her having grown back, while others are missing chunks of fur apparently from acid damage. The locations and the scent of potion-based chemicals, a detail he’d recognize thanks to his mother figure, only confirms someone, not something, has come to Cocytus, and they likely don’t care what they’re doing to the local fauna. He’s yet to find a corpse, the one positive he can say, bittersweet with more Slitherbeasts now having wounds than those without.

The Caribellows aren’t as plentiful as he once thought either, coming across more than a dozen half-eaten corpses, sometimes swarmed by Toto-Hops unaffiliated with Sqwonky or snacked upon by Slitherbeast packs. To his disgust, even the young aren’t exempt from wounds, a group of six with three pups acting more aggressively when he approaches. The largest doesn’t let King even inch closer, every member of his pack having been wounded in some manner; his roar of intimidation reveals one of his eyes has been blinded, possibly permanently.

’No clear pattern of exploration, a potion used, hasn’t fought anyone or anything weak, no clear appearance or footprints thanks to the snow, and extremely aggressive. Probably searching for something, maybe the treasure, assuming any exists,’ he ponders, trying to find out what the newcomer’s goal is. ‘…Who am I kidding, nothing in Cocytus is weak, but they must be weaker; not a single Slitherbeast fatality but plenty of Caribellows. Maybe they’re rich, more than a few of these guys have chemical and acid burns.’

His best theory is a Greater Demon, possibly a High Devil, has come in search of treasure, explaining why no two locations are exactly the same. The other conclusion he can think of is that their attacks, in spite of their needless cruelty and leaving many dead or wounded, are meant to be tests of strength; Cocytus has been known to turn even the weakest into the strongest, assuming they survive. Such a theory would seem silly to him had he not found evidence of one of those hypotheses.

Every now and then, buried within the snow, King finds himself holding an empty bottle, trace amounts of potion found within them and diluted thanks to snow watering down their effects. He has proof someone is here and causing trouble, as well as confirming prior theories that whoever’s out there, they don’t care who or what stands in their way. The worst-case scenario comes to the skull-headed devil’s mind if such ideas are true.

’If they’re after treasure, then they might try to raid Sqwonky’s cave!’ he concludes, unable to consider hunting for the explorer further. ‘They can’t, not like this!’

The Toto-Hops are in danger as far as he’s concerned. Nothing’s stopping the raider from attacking and potentially killing his friends, he doesn’t even know if they can fight, yet even an idea of where they might strike is preferred to the alternative in his eyes. He keeps the bottle for evidence and rushes back to the fluffle’s home, refusing to leave them unguarded for even a second, not after what he’s come to the idea of.

Some things are just more important than pride, just hoping it's not too late.

Chapter Text

Boscha was hoping for something more. She didn't come all the way to Cocytus just to be told without words that her every effort was for naught. She's almost out of potions of all kinds, her body's temperature has only decreased since coming to the realm, and she can't even truly defeat a Slitherbeast without nearly losing a limb. Even Caribellows, their meat most tender in her eyes, can't be acquired without proper preparations and thorough advantages. As such, the second she comes across the deepest chamber possible, she can only roar in blinding rage.

Nothing. Just a room with an empty nest, possibly a nursery, but not a single egg in sight. The ceiling, reaching higher than some buildings within Bonesborough, cements the fact something gargantuan used to live within these walls. Banners that might have hung are taken down, likely pillaged by another demon. The ice around said nest has been broken open to some extent, only for there to be blankets and pillows, nothing that could fetch even a carriage on the markets. Even the very walls aren't made of anything noteworthy, just more stone. More doors around her demand someone open them, but the three-eyed demon knows she can't waste anymore potions; she needs them just to stay alive long enough to escape Cocytus. She can't find anything else beyond scratch marks and chipped ice, proof that if anything was in this room, it's long gone; she may never know if this room was for a supposed commoner or the Primordial itself, not with the lack of information.

'That's it?! Nothing?!' she balks, trying and failing to remain calm. 'I almost died for nothing?!'

She can see no bright side to take hold of. Cocytus's ruins are nothing more than a pit of despair with nothing to be found, and she now has proof of such an idea. Slitherbeasts one way, an endless labyrinth in the other, and not even a gold coin to her name. The youngest Mali can't even come up with a good reason to even return to the realm beyond pure masochism, and if that's what it takes to prove her own worth, then she wants no part in it. What point is there exploring a wasteland when there's nothing to gain from it beyond pain, fear, rage, and an unending desire to consume Caribellows? What point is there in even considering bringing back ice samples when it's just more of the same?

'This can't be it! There's gotta be something!' she balks, searching high and low for anything useful, searching the room with what strength she can sacrifice. 'Come on, ruins! You gave Amity sanctuary, so give me what I'm owed! What was here?!'

It’s all she wants at this point. She knows she can’t defeat a Slitherbeast on her own, her addiction to Caribellow meat is going to worsen without some kind of aid, and worse, if all else fails, she’ll need to leave with neither treasure nor definitive strength. She knows she can wound the beasts, but it’s not the same as defeating them; the six from before alone must be waiting for her. It’s been days and her rations and collected food have completely disappeared; even a shield for protection will be better than nothing at all.

However, no matter how deep or how hard she digs and searches, she finds not even a coin. She’s forced to concede, to admit she’s doing so much for nothing of value to her; even if she returns, she’ll be seen as powerful, but she won’t feel it. All she can do is return from the path she came from and hope for the best, only to notice two sets of footprints leading further into the labyrinth.

’What’s this?’ she ponders, taking a closer look at the tracks.

One larger set, likely from a biped, and another for a feral, one she doesn’t recognize. She’s come across little more than Caribellows and Slitherbeasts, and now she’s told there’s another species to be worried about. The idea of such a thing seems almost pitiful, the tracks far too small for either beast she’s familiar with, but at this point she can’t be too careful. A worse idea comes to mind as she trudges forward, trying to hope for a better outcome than when she entered the ruins.

’If someone managed to tame these things, what if they try to attack me? They’ve likely been here longer than I have and know how to make them attack whoever they see fit!’ she dreads, feeling herself sweat for the first time since entering the realm. ‘No, I can’t let them win! I’ll make it out of here, I’ll make it back home, and I will prove myself superior! Don’t worry, Amity! I’ll be back before you know it!’

All she finds are more of the same, stone floors with stone walls and ceilings which extend far higher than any Overlord has any right to have built. Ice and snow continue to fill the room slowly but surely, proof that whatever’s on the other side of the tunnel is indeed the way to the surface. All she needs to do is head one direction and she’ll finally find safety beyond the frigid wasteland, where the lava flows free and the cold cannot persist for long. Never before has feeling warm felt so comforting, so tempting, as it does this moment.

What she finds instead, to her terror, is a small pack of six Slitherbeasts, all adults, several with bundles of meat in their mouths. Each and every one of them is awake, possessing a liquid-based scar somewhere on their body, marks the three-eyes woman recognizes as beasts that have gotten in her way. All six of them reveal their eyes and “sniff” the air, immediately growling at the being they so despise; it’s then Boscha realizes they recognize her. Now they have a numbers advantage, and the youngest Mali knows she can’t just retreat either with Slitherbeasts at the other tunnel just waiting to devour her.

Several of them sniff the air once more, panic evident in their movements as they nudge their allies to listen to them. Most don’t listen, but their apparent leader complies, only for it to become just as panicked upon realizing what such terror means. They don’t dare stay around to find out, whimpering rather than roaring while absconding with the gathered food, certain whatever’s coming next to be vastly deadlier than Boscha could hope to be.

‘What?!’ she balls, trying to rationalize their new behavior. ‘That’s it? Just like that? What happened?!’

It just makes no sense to her. For eras she’s heard how Slitherbeasts are the deadliest creatures in Cocytus with no exceptions, and something just scared them off. What could be so horrifying that even Boscha isn’t seen as worth dealing with compared to whatever’s coming? What demon roamed into Cocytus thinking it’s capable of tearing them apart while convincing enough to terrify apex predators?

The six beasts continue to run for their lives, terrified of what could be coming their way, and it gives Boscha a moment to take a look around the cave, if only for a chance to hide. Many bones from past catches of prey, a collection of Caribellow antlers with bite marks in them, the grounds for many a being to roam about, tiny footprints all over the cave floor. A puddle the size of Amity's entire body lies toward the back of the den, the scent of Caribellow meat making it clear it was to store food. Whatever the beasts here are, they're not only effective, but smart enough to at least organize their kills, much to her fear.

Numerous small shadows forming across the floor leave her on-guard, refusing to go down without a fight; she didn't stare death in the face only to be dragged back. She can't go back, not when freedom is only about a hundred feet away.

The three-eyed woman's terror turns to confusion upon spotting her supposed adversaries: a fluffle of bunnies.

Chapter Text

Boscha can't believe what she's seeing. Six Slitherbeasts ran for their lives because of a bunch of bunnies? They're not even that big, maybe two and a half feet tall on their hind legs, just over one when on all fours, all with white fur to blend in with the snow. They look at her with suspicious, perplexed gazes, yet such stares do nothing to send terror down the demon's spine. Seeing their little noses twitch at the strong scent of Caribellow meat only further confirms her fears are ultimately for naught.

'Bunnies?! I got scared over bunnies?!' she balks, trying and failing to hide her amusement. 'How did it come to this?! Ooooh, soooo scaaaary! A bunch of little plant eaters are home and found me! What will I do, sit back and let them look at me funny?!'

The youngest Mali can't stop herself from laughing, having never been so happy to have been worried about nothing. Not only do the creatures happen to be what most would call "cute", but they're ultimately harmless to her, finally letting herself prepare to step out, only for a small thud to follow, halting her in her tracks. The largest of the lot, who she assumes to be their leader, continues to thud the ground, not trusting the newcomer, less so than when he met a certain someone weeks prior.

'What is this, some kind of intimidation attempt? What are they gonna do, nibble me?!' she laughs to herself, unaware a certain someone decides to approach closer.

Francois has never seen a demon like the new being before. Unlike literally every other creature he's come across, this one has three eyes instead of the usual two; even with giant spiked antlers and eyes on the gums, no creature in Cocytus has more than two. It only makes him want to take a closer look, fascinated, only for his dad to stomp his hind legs, warning him not to get any closer. He hates knowing he can't do anything so young yet, but he knows Sqwonky just wants to keep him safe, the one thing he can accept without complaint.

Lieutenant Scruffy sniffs the air, noticing a subtle scent of stone and chemicals, much like the prey they've come across in recent days. Sir Teddy notices a lack of friendliness compared to Luz and Eda, stomping the ground alongside Sqwonky in an attempt to scare her off. Jelly Bean tries nudging the leader's son out of the way, refusing to let one of their own get hurt by someone who doesn't dare show respect. It's then Battleaxe realizes just why something seems off about the three-eyed being.

He chuffs to Sqwonky, warning him that she must've eaten all of their food, a strong scent of Caribellow coming off her for no reason otherwise. Assuming King doesn't bring anything back, they'll have to either hunt longer or starve until tomorrow. The news only further enrages the fluffle, Sqwonky rushing forward to drag his son out of the way of their new enemy; of all the bipeds he's come across, this one cannot be allowed to stay. Either she gets out or she gets dragged out by any means necessary.

To make his point clear, Sqwonky doesn't dare let the enemy go off without a warning, sitting right atop her boot before relieving himself. He never wants to see her again, this is his last warning, the rest of the fluffle minus his son stomping in unison. Not only has this being made itself clear she doesn't want to become allies or even neutral, she seems to have stolen all her food, unaware Slitherbeasts ate it before they arrived.

What little fun Boscha may have had has died. Not only do they dare not see her as a threat, they choose to actively instigate her by stomping at her, not randomly, glaring as their leader leaves a yellow stain on her boot. At this point she no longer cares what they are or what they want; to her, they must pay the ultimate price for their insolence.

With a hearty kick, she sends both the leader and his son toward the entrance, sending them flying with high-pitched squeaks, blood trickling from the leader's mouth as he falls to the ground in a limp heap.

'I did it. I finally did it! There's something I can defeat on my own!' she concludes, huffing triumphantly before stepping around the bunny ferals. 'Now they'll learn never to-!'

shink

"AUGH!! WHAT THE FUCK?!!?"

Dozens of tiny teeth dig into the three-eyed woman's flesh, three of the beasts biting into her left leg just as she was about to make a step, dropping her back into the snow. Growls and roars of fury and hunger sound from all around her, their thinning patience having run out. They can't tolerate something that can actively go against them as a threat, not after wanting her to simply leave them alone, and yet dealing with her seems to be the only viable option. Four more climb up her back with claws sharper than a Caribellow's antlers, keeping her pinned to the ground as the rest of their fluffle takes vengeance against the one who hurt their leader.

Said leader finally manages to stand, chuffing to signal them to attack at the same time, wanting her to pay dearly for doing what she's done. It never had to end this way. All that matters now is ensuring the fluffle's safety. Such a moment, however, is all the three-eyed menace needs to fight back to the fullest.

Her tail clamps down on one of the aggressive beasts' scruffs, dragging both it and pieces of her flesh off, while spotting the other young preparing to join in. The last thing she wants is for the young to become a threat in the future, using said tail to reach for them, only for what must be a mother to bite down with all her might, threatening to bite the limb clean off.

The intruder continues to scream from the seemingly endless agony, having never felt such pain in her life before. She needs it to stop, she no longer wants to feel blades in her skin or teeth digging into her tail. All she wants is to get out and butcher every last creature around her, even if it costs her everything. She grabs the nearest bunny and presses down, forcing whimpers to escape its throat, bringing much-needed relief to the aspiring Overlord-to-be, her rage not at all sated. A mere whimper will never be enough to pay for losing skin.

Seeing one of their own become endangered in such a way only further infuriates the fluffle, disgusted with what they find. All they can wonder is why someone so desperate to escape could sacrifice salvation for the sake of sadism. What kind of beast, biped or feral, would risk her own life for the sake of bloodlust? Such contradictions only make her come off as insane, their teeth digging into her wrist, drawing enough blood to splatter over the snow beneath her, the leader roaring for his fluffle to fight off the beast.

Unfortunately, fate isn't so kind.

Chapter Text

Not only has their leader been kicked to the side alongside his son, not only have they lost a sizable chunk of their food, but this enemy is an active threat to them. The Toto-Hops cannot allow someone brave enough to fight them and strong enough to fight back to simply walk away, every adult charging forth. They can’t risk their lives by letting her live, not like this; even if King has questions, so be it.

Boscha can’t believe bunnies of all things are going to be the things that killed her. She’s dealt with dozens of Slitherbeasts but couldn’t kill even one, and now bunnies of all things are going to kill her? It’s either her or them, and she’d butcher a thousand for even a chance at survival. They made the mistake of disrespecting her, and now it shall cost them their lives.

Lieutenant Scruffy gnaws on the beast’s tail, spilling blood all across the cavern floor as her peers rush from all sides, refusing to give her a chance to fully recover. The pincer snaps and drags every which way, desperately trying to reach her as Sir Teddy and Jelly Bean aim for her arms, noticing her reaching into her bag for something. Each scratch splashes crimson along the walls and tears at her flesh, each bite aiming to disable her in any possible manner. Boscha, however, gives the two no mercy, slamming her hands together, the snapping of bones heard as the two lie still on the ground, horrifying the Fluffle.

The motherly Toto-Hop manages to tear through their foe’s entire tail, sending her into a roaring fit as a result of the searing cold on her exposed nerves. Her appendage flails about uselessly on the ground, its owner repaying her attacker by stomping her into the ground, snapping her spine and breaking her neck in the process, refusing to lose anymore parts of herself to rodents. Battleaxe can’t stand to lose another, lunging for her leg’s tendons, desperate to at least slow her down, exposing raw nerve endings and even bone, giving his companions they need to stop her before suffering a claw to the face, his shrill scream being his final breath as his brain is pierced.

Sqwonky’s fury only grows by the second, lunging for the three-eyed menace’s face, unable to think of anything but protecting what remains of the fluffle; if everyone falls, he’s all alone. He can’t lose the young, he can’t lose any of his friends, his family. They’re all he has left, his claws gouging out two of her eyes in the process, her roars of agony confirming she’s not invincible. No matter how dangerous she comes off as, she can and will fall.

The Triclops clutches her face, her remaining eye glaring at her foes before quickly grabbing an acid potion to spill flesh-burning chemicals around her, the contents tearing through Steak Sauce and Wine Chalice’s torsos and melting their lungs, drowning them in their own blood. The terrified squeals of the dying rodents brings her momentary bliss in her agony, but she knows it’s not enough. They all must pay the price for humiliating her, and only six of them managed to do so.

Apple Tree and Shielder go for the tendons, tearing at them and forcing the beast to her knees, her rage impossible to quell even as Sqwonky tears away at her face, his claws reaching her bones as she tosses him into the wall, cratering it and forcing him to the ground. All that’s left are the young and the two remaining adults, the devil finally feeling herself smile as they lunge for her face, only for her to ram her own head into the ground, tearing more skin off in the process. She knows she doesn’t even have a face at this point but she doesn’t care. All that matters is that her enemies pay; she’ll deal with healing soon.

Three young in all, including the one who approached her rather than run off. Beanlet and Tea Leaf try to scamper for their parents, knowing something horrible has happened to them, only for her to grab a nearby slab of ice and crush their tiny bodies, refusing to let them get revenge on her in the future. All that’s left is Francois.

The little one backs away in terror, realizing there’s no hope of truly fending off against the lunatic who destroyed his fluffle. He reluctantly bows, accepting her as the victor, but she simply grabs him by the neck and squeezes, her remaining eye displaying nothing but sadistic rage as she chokes the life out of the young Toto-Hop; she desires no servants, only bodies.

Francois struggles and flails, trying to squeak for his father, only not even gasps escape his throat. His vision darkens as he recalls the good bipeds who came, remembering there was always a better outcome, but today was just not meant for him or his loved ones. His tiny paws try to claw her off, only they don’t even cause nearly as much damage as he could’ve. Francois knows he can’t do anything.

Boscha finally drops the Hoplet’s corpse, sighing with relief as she drinks her final heat potion, not daring to even gather their meat. She doesn’t want their flesh to be how she survives, only able to crawl out of the cave, past a seemingly dead leader before finally drinking her remaining healing potion, her own tail acting as her sole souvenir.

It’s time to finally head home. No amount of treasure is worth this, not when she’s so weak. She knows something exists deep within the realm, but she can’t reach it if a fluffle nearly killed her. She can feel her blood pouring out of her, uncertain if she’ll even make it to the edge of the territory before her life fades; only her ambition, burning as bright as the day she was born, keeps her moving.

King rushes for the fluffle, desperate to protect them from a painful fate, his eyes widening with terror upon realizing someone beat him to it. The blowing storm makes it hard to decipher the details, but he sees a bloodied biped with torn wings and its tail in its hands, having suffered a seemingly fatal battle. What looks like a nose area with three nose holes, exposing its skull, is paired with violet hair and a single silver eye, staring back with unbridled hate. However, rather than dare to fight, it retreats into the blizzard, leaving behind nothing but a trail of crimson in the snow.

’They did it. They fended it off!’ he cheers silently, hopeful for Sqwonky and his family as he climbs the mountain, nearing the cave. ‘Take that, freak! Now let’s-‘

”-NO!!!”

All of them. Everyone from the mightiest fighters to even the Hoplets has been murdered in cold blood. Their food has been stolen, their lives taken, spilling literally boiling blood. King’s curiosity is blinded by dread, sorrow, and fury all mixing together, disgusted someone would come into their home and do this to the Toto-Hops. All he can do is look around and hope someone, anyone, could have survived, his hopes dying with every fallen member.

Even Francois, despite having no blood spilt, lies lifeless on the ground, suspecting he suffered from strangulation in his final moments, oddly holding a look of peace on his face. All of them appear calm even as they lie dead, save for Sqwonky, shallow breaths escaping his throat, barely noticeable unless focused on, much to King’s bittersweet relief; someone survived.

”Sqwonky?! Come on, stay with me!” he pleads, gently nudging his friend. “I’m sorry… I couldn’t get back in time…”

The Toto-Hop blinks for a moment before observing the carnage, his gut twisting as he realizes just how much he’s lost. His best friends, his family, his entire fluffle, gone, all gathered together in a long row, King refusing to let any of them go unnoticed. Sqwonky can only breathe heavier, shedding tears as he softly nudges them all, desperately hoping that all he’s doing is suffering from a horrid nightmare. Not a breath, not a twitch, only body head from Magmin signaling their deaths were recent, that he saw them.

Even his son doesn’t so much as sniff the air for his dad.

Sqwonky can only rub his face with his little paws, unable to hide his despair. Tears continue to stream down his face, nudging his son in vain, unable to fully rationalize what happened to him and his fluffle.

King never knew Toto-Hops could cry, but as the wail pierces the storm while Sqwonky succumbs to despair, he wishes he never did. There’s nothing he can do or say that can make what happened okay; Sqwonky lost everything.

All he can do his hug his friend and cry alongside him; what else can they do?

Chapter Text

King suspects Toto-Hops are able to make loud, almost shrill noises, but only under extreme distress or intense emotions. Toto-Hops’ blood literally boils, likely as a side effect of consuming molten rock, particularly Magmin, thus explaining how they’re so warm. The damage he saw to the intruder makes it abundantly clear Toto-Hops will fight to the death of encountered, thus finally explaining why Toto-Hops are the most feared beings in all of Cocytus. He gains no satisfaction learning such details and the means of learning such things is worse. He didn’t even want to know, and her here he is, unable to do a thing about the fluffle.

He can’t even give Sqwonky the closure he yearns for, the intruder having vanished even with the injuries they suffered. He thinks they had heat and healing potions as a result, thus giving them a chance to escape with no further consequence. The skull-headed demon continues to blame himself as the blood trail fades away both in size and from the storm, destroying his chances of finding the one who butchered his friends.

There were indeed 12 Toto-Hops in the fluffle, and only Sqwonky survived; even his son is no longer among the living, all 11 of the deceased gently placed into a box before King brings both them and his new friend somewhere secure. He can’t risk him getting lost, even with his advantages, knowing he needs someone to care for him. The two have the same question: why?

Why were they attacked when they were just defending their home? Why were the Hoplets finished off when they posed no true threat? Why didn’t they even harvest them for meat or fur when there was plenty to go around? Why did it have to end like this? Such questions continue to plague their minds during the trek home to no end, no answers for why such torment had to occur, nothing behind pure sadism. Even if King isn’t aware of the full story, Sqwonky knows his group gave the monster chances to just walk away. Such mercy, to his shame, is why his immediate loved ones are no longer alive.

King barely knocks before opening the door to home, his tears impossible to hide as Sqwonky continues to sit beside the crate. Eda and Luz barely have time to react to the scene, confusion and dread across their faces. Luz isn’t sure what’s going on for certain, but if her brother and his friend are in danger, they probably need to know they’re safe.

”King, what did I-?!” Eda begins, only to see tears not only across her son’s face, but Sqwonky’s as well, before asking in a more even tone, “…Alright, what happened?”

The smaller demon can’t speak the truth, only able to gesture to the box. Luz can only lift the lid and peer inside, only to immediately close the crate once more, unable to do anything more than hug her little brother, offering a gentle hand for Sqwonky.

“No…” the eldest Clawthorne can only mutter, checking the box herself, only to learn the truth. “I… I’m sorry, King.”

She wants answers, but to force them out of him now won’t bring any benefit. All she can do right now is be there for her kids, watching Sqwonky nuzzle the side of the box, unable to think of or do anything more.

For the first time since before Luz’s hatching, the Clawthorne household is completely silent. Nobody is sure what to do or say, King only able to explain what he knows and saw, admitting even he’s not certain who committed such crimes or why. The only certainty is that Sqwonky is still alive, who hasn’t budged an inch from the box since his arrival. Sometimes he eats, rarely he moves from his spot, but never farther than a foot away.

King knows he can’t keep his friend around forever; he still has to return to the wild. He’ll make it on his own for a while, he knows he’s strong, perhaps even find a new fluffle, but it won’t replace his own, at least not completely. Some things just can’t be fixed or changed. Eda watches the bunny-like demon spiral, trying desperately to keep himself rational even as he processes the fact he’ll never see his original fluffle again. It’s just a matter of time before he must go, offering a gentle hand for him to nuzzle, using her other to lightly scritch his fluff.

”What are you doing?” the youngest Clawthorne asks, trying to figure out what’s going on.

”He needs help processing all of this. He can’t go like this, not without knowing things will be alright… well, eventually,” the gold-fanged woman clarifies, her voice low to avoid scaring her friend. “He doesn’t know what to do now.”

Understanding he needs time, Luz remains nearby yet refuses to leave completely. The last thing she needs is to lose them too, needing them to know that no matter what, they'll always have someone there for them, even when it doesn't feel like it. She isn't sure what loss feels like, all she knows is that it must feel painful, it sometimes forms a person into who they are, it gives them a reason to either fight or stop trying. For now, all she can do is show the two they'll always have someone there to help them cry it out and talk.

Sqwonky in particular refuses to budge from his spot, but he doesn't shrug off the silver-haired demon's hand, understanding she wants to help him somehow. He knows she can't bring others back from death, he knows she can't even reveal their spirits, but she cares. Such a reminder tells him there's plenty of reason not to die just yet, that there's something out there, but after a lifetime of his fluffle, he isn't sure what to do next. He doesn't even know where his attacker went or when or if she'll return. Too many unknowns, too little time to worry about it.

King can only gently pat his friend's head to show he's not going to suffer alone; if they're going to be sad, at least they can be sad together. Sqwonky's going to be alright, he’ll be alright too, but it doesn’t mean they’re going to be fine right away.

For now, all everyone can do is wait and process everything.

Chapter Text

It took several weeks, but at long last both King and Sqwonky have recovered, at least enough to not need assistance. They needed time to process everything, even if the truth still hurts, but now they know they must move on, just enough to accept they cannot wallow forever. They can’t let the fluffle rot in a box for eternity, but King knows of one thing they can do with his family.

Luz, understanding the plan, suggests, “Hey, maybe I could-“

”No. No thanks,” King interrupts, grateful but not wanting to drag her down. “I have to do this on my own. I’ll grab you and Eda later, okay?”

All Luz can do is silently nod and watch as King and Sqwonky leave the house, unsure what exactly they plan on.

The hole is ten feet deep, right along and just above the edge between the highest magma river and the very boundary of Cocytus. Stone and cooling magma are what the walls remain composed of, Sqwonky and King having finished burrowing for what they need. It’s just wide enough to fit them within, which is all the space the box needs. They never thought they would have to bury their dead, but here they are; the one thing King is certain of is that the deceased aren’t in agony.

”…Well, this is it,” he sighs, barely able to keep his composure together. “So, ready?”

The former fluffle leader nods, digging into the nearby pile of rubble and pouring the debris into the grave. Memories of a simpler, happier time flow through his head, the skull-headed demon helping him give his friends the peace they deserve. Even if they didn’t know each other long, they respect one another enough to continue burying the lot, refusing to allow any wildlife to feast upon them. It feels wrong, especially after witnessing everything they’re willing to do.

”I guess that’s it. At least they won’t be in any trouble, even like this,” King murmurs, trying to better rationalize everything. “Just… I dunno. You did what you could, that’s the one thing I’m sure of.”

Sqwonky knows he did. Even at his best, he couldn’t save anyone. To hear his efforts, no matter how futile, weren’t in vain, brings him slight relief. King and his own fluffle gave him and his family more compassion than Cocytus did in eras, and he even gave his loved ones, even his son, a final resting place that actually seems peaceful. He can only continue sniffing the terrain, hoping to remember where they’re buried for later on, before hopping over to a nearby magma stream.

“Sqwonky? It hurts, but… well, Luz told me someone she knows went through a lot of pain. She can’t say it goes away, but after a while, it gets easier,” the black-furred devil assures his friend, softly scritching his back. “Just come by if you’re feeling sad, okay?”

The Toto-Hop nods, nuzzling King before making his way back into Cocytus. It’ll be a long time before he can recover fully, but at least he has a reason to keep going, regardless of the consequences. With Magmin fresh in his system and a refusal to let the monster win in the long run in some way, he moves forward, understanding there’s someone who will help him.

King can’t help but slump into Eda’s lap, his frustration unable to disappear completely. He knows Sqwonky will be alright, he knows there’s nothing he could’ve done, he knows he did what he could for Sqwonky, but none of it makes the truth hurt any less. All the youngest Clawthorne knows is that all he can do is keep living and see where it takes him and Sqwonky.

”So… feel like doing anything? Maybe… Oh, what about those notes on Caribellow meats you gathered?” the ancient demon suggests.

”Not right now,” the smaller being sighs, failing to muster up the mental fortitude to do much of anything.

”Well you can’t lie around doing nothing. At least, I dunno, read a demon manual?” the Owl Lady suggests, trying to encourage her kid to do literally anything. “Laying around feels nice, true, but it’s not gonna suddenly make you feel better. Trust me on that one.”

King knows Eda’s right, but he just doesn’t feel the energy to do more. He buried his friends, and she thinks he should just be himself again?

”…Tell that to me after you bury your friends,” he nearly hisses, unable to fully hide his own frustration.

”I never said right away. You need time to recover, and something tells me you should see someone, because… well, I don’t wanna hurt you, even by accident,” the silver-haired woman assures him, never stopping petting her son to show he’s not alone. “If it’s weak to bottle up, it’s weaker to let yourself break under the pressure. Just think about it for a bit, okay?”

She can only suggest, never demand. The Owl Lady is only sure her youngest will be alright in the end; Luz’s friend made it so far, therefore she has great faith in the skull-headed demon. She just needs to wait and provide time and space to heal, even if it takes more time than she would be comfortable with.

”…How do you move on from losing a loved one?” King asks, trying to put together his thoughts. “You and Amity seem so well put together. How did you do it?”

Eda can’t help but sit King in her lap properly, wanting him to listen to the best of his ability. She can’t stand to have him misinterpret what’s to happen too soon, and if even a fraction of help will do it, then so be it.

”Honestly it takes time. Took me years before I could show myself in public again, that and support in the form of Luz,” the Owl Lady elaborates, patting the smaller demon’s skull. “It doesn’t go away, true, but sooner or later, it becomes easier to manage. It helps to have someone with you to remind you of your goals, even if you don’t see it at first.”

Its then King spots one of his demon manuals, a newer edition with false information. He snickers at the fake beliefs on why some devils root themselves into place, reaching in vain thanks to his refusal to leave his mother figure’s hold, softly “Weh”-ing all the while.

”There’s the King I know,” she practically chirps, reaching over and grabbing the book for him. “You’re not dead on the inside, you just need a bit of time and support. Now, where we’re we?”

It still hurts more than getting his skull split in two, but now King’s sure he and Sqwonky will psychologically recover someday.

Chapter Text

Ten years have passed since the demise of Sqwonky's first fluffle. He's been gone for five years as far as King recalls, only returning to his family's grave on the anniversary of the day they were lost. Such behavior reminds King that no matter how strange his species may be, they're more than just ferals; Toto-Hops are smart, they're almost akin to people, only separated by the shapes of their bodies and how they live.

Every year on the same day, King and Sqwonky meet up, enjoy Caribellow meat, and remember the weeks prior to the tragedy; it’s the one time and place they know they’ll be together, Cocytus or not. Sometimes King speaks to him, other times not, but never has one pushed away the other. Such times are brief, yet neither can deny such a schedule has changed them, for better or worse. It reminds them that at the end of the day, there was at least something meaningful about their time.

Not once has Sqwonky missed the yearly get-together, oftentimes nuzzling into King’s side to show he still considers the skull-headed demon family, at least in his own way. There’s still people out there who aren’t more beastly than the Slitherbeasts, there’s still someone out there who would protect his kind, and that means more than Sqwonky would say if he could. King’s a Toto-Hop in his eyes, and that means more than a hundred days of meat can compare to.

Eight years after the demise of the fluffle, King’s surprised to find another fluffle of Toto-Hops roaming the grounds near the grave. He counts at least 11, possibly more hidden within the storm, but none dare cause trouble, only leaving when Sqwonky does but never approaching all while refusing to near the burial spot. They understand the grave’s importance, confirming to King that not only is knowledge passed down, but possibly a kind of tradition as well.

”Hey Sqwonky, who are they?” he asks at last, wondering just who the new faces may be.

The leader chuffs, suggesting the fluffle comes close, before one of the young and his mother approaches, wondering just who and what King is. He suspects the bunny-like ferals are speaking, and after a moment, the youngest approaches with intrigue, and it’s then the biped finally understands what the new ones are: Sqwonky’s new fluffle. At some point he found more Toto-Hops to begin a new one, and it seems he now trusts them with King. Part of King wonders if Sqwonky is replacing his old one, only to quickly disregard such an idea.

The larger Toto-Hop has never once missed visiting his first family’s grave. Even if he has a new family to fill his heart, the consistent visits are a reminder that at the end of the day, he refuses to erase them completely. No number of years will completely overshadow his heartbreak even with the little one nuzzling into King’s hand. The skull-headed demon is certain the little one resembles Francois, only this time there's certainty this one will be safe. Should someone attack them again, this time Sqwonky and King will be ready.

"...Good job, Sqwonky," he congratulates, tenderly petting the little one. "Looks like you're gonna pull through. You're not alone out there either."

He means it. He knows Sqwonky shouldn't be forced to rely on him anymore than the other way around, and now there's proof the healing journey, if it's not complete, is still going relatively smoothly. Life goes on, people change, and sometimes things manage to work out. One by one, the members of the fluffle approach closer, seeing King not as a threat, but as someone their leader can trust. Seeing him handle their young with such delicacy is a reminder there will always be some creature that will want to protect them, even when it comes to the wasteland of Cocytus.

Unfortunately for everyone, the entire scene is undercut slightly by one truth: the fluffle's murderer is still out there somewhere. Tracing the blood back to a source has netted not a single match he's aware of. The one-eyed beast's gear possesses nothing indicating where it might have been or who it could be. Sqwonky can't fully remember the thing's features, only that it smelled like Caribellow meat and that it ran off when it thought it killed everyone with a smile. The only upside either of them can come up with is that the beast, whatever it is, has never returned as far as they know.

No one-eyed beast with exposed skull parts exists in the Book of Demons, neither as a feral or a sapient demon. All attempts at finding more about it were a complete failure, leaving uncertainty for King and Sqwonky. The only rule Sqwonky has for the Fluffle when involving the monster is to run and hide; no fight is worth dying, especially against the one to take out other Toto-Hops. Something isn't scared of them, leaving their greatest defense unknown.

King's worry continues to worry, even as he spots Luz heading off to prepare for a coming battle.

Why did the monster appear in the cave to begin with?

Chapter Text

Boscha knows she can't face Toto-Hops again, not after the mauling she's suffered many years ago. Just one was able to pierce her skin. It took only one to mutilate her face to the point it took an entire week to heal the scars forever marked to remind her of her error in judgement. An entire group of them nearly took her life, and now she can't stand the sight of such creatures. She can't let herself become as vulnerable as she was that day, she just can't.

'I can't go back, not in this state!' she recalls with dread, trudging deeper into the cavern, biting down into something far more gamey than Caribellow meat. 'No matter, what I need should be here somewhere! No more threats, no more Toto-Hops! No more Toto-Hops, no more coming back! To oblivion with Cocytus!'

Never has a belief felt so right to hold. Sacred or not, Cocytus is a land that, to her, must be repurposed into something greater. The blizzard is just proof that things must change, and with Amity having chosen to abandon her birthright, said changes must come quickly. What must be done to regain what the Triclops is certain is hers?

Days turn to weeks, weeks turn to months, months into years, all in an effort to find that one piece of treasure that could change her future in an instant. Be it bones, weapons, or armor, she knows Cocytus can’t just be abandoned, not when so many demons came and died for no clear reason. Even as her body blistered from the cold and her hands bled from constant clawing and digging, the silver-eyed demoness won’t let her ambition be for nothing.

Once more, her potions run low, her Slitherbeast meat supply nearly out once more, and soon she knows she'll be forced to return home yet again. Boscha can't get the thought of the secrets below out of her head; Amity knows something exists below, and the three-eyed demon refuses to leave without at least knowing the trinket or trinkets' secret. What could be so important that Cocytus seems to act as the perfect security measure? That single question refuses to die down even after all of these years, and only once she nears a familiar room does she search longer. Why would such an important-seeming room just be sitting around?

The sight of the fluffle's cave's pathway forces Boscha to back away on instinct. She knows she killed them all, she's sure of that much, yet her near-death experience, even years later, prevents her from nearing that area. The memory of a Toto-Hop tearing her eyes out makes her shiver, lightly tapping her face where her skin was shredded away. Her very tendons prevented her from running, she could see it in their eyes, they wanted her to die.

'...No, they won't get you again. You don't need to head back,' she reminds herself, shaking the fear away as she approaches a nearby door more than triple the size of herself. 'Now then. One more door, then I should head out; I can't stay out here forever.'

Nothing has bored Boscha more than melting ice around a door. Slow, tedious, the slightest delay could ruin all of her work, and she can't do much of anything. Heat-based potions and fire spells together make the process pass faster, the very land itself preventing the effect from becoming as potent as said heat could be. Previous doors have taken as few as 30 minutes, sometimes less, but the consistent heat needed to melt away the giant entrance has taken more than two hours. Her food, while raw and oddly delectable, looks more tantalizing by the minute as she melts away the last of the hinges' permafrost.

'Finally!' she sighs, wiping away the excess ice fragments, readying herself. 'Let's get this over with. This better be worth it!'

An ear-splitting scraping sound of metal on top of stone, combined with the rusted hinges of the doorway, rattle Boscha to her core. She can't take it, shouting to herself in a futile play at blocking out such a cacophony. She bangs her fists into the door itself, failing to so much as dent its surface as she finally gets to glimpse within, only to regret such an idea immediately.

She thought the blizzard above ground was cold, but even a thousand ice-based spells by a hundred High Devils feels like nothing compared to the room. Her sweat freezes upon her skin, her final heat potion drank as she steps within, her brew unable to block off the frigid atmosphere. A Slitherbeast would freeze to death in minutes. A Caribellow would lie down to die after just one. Searing-hot magma wouldn't even remain hot for more than half a minute. However, it's new, the only thing keeping Boscha from abandoning her pillaging idea, shivering even with a measure to keep herself alive.

'There's no doubt about it. This is the coldest place in either Heaven or Hell,' the ambitious devil concludes, looking around the chamber only to find more snow and ice. '...REALLY?! MORE MELTING?!!?'

"DAMNIT!!!"

She punches the ground with both fists and her full strength, her rage blinding her as the chamber shudders from the impact. Snow either falls from every viable surface or floats like powder, ice cracking all around her, her third eye spotting something beneath the snow.

A boot that reaches from the bottom of her foot to her waist, and something long dead is wearing it.

'I found something. I found something!' she cheers to herself, calming down enough to notice the boot is connected to more beneath the ice. 'Come on, Cocytus. Show me what you're hiding!'

What few fire spells she can cast mix with the silver-eyed devil's punches, what few parts of the boot's source are hit coming out unscathed. Even dead, the entity beneath refuses to let a living creature harm it, only for further digging to reveal more about her discovery. A second boot, tattered robes, arms ending with hands, claws sharper than the finest blades weaponsmiths can craft. Even a throne composed of gold-infused metal lies beneath the skeletal creature, lifeless yet filled with dignity even in its final moments.

The last part to be uncovered is a skull with medium-sized horns for its size, large enough for even Fodder Demons to be impaled upon them. Even in its current state, Boscha feels a sense of dread observing the dead demon before her. Tattered robes only preserved by ice and snow, revealing a green coloring, scraps of blue fabric draped across its ribs. Neither scale nor fur remains anywhere within the chamber, rendering it impossible to tell what kind of devil it may have been. Even deceased, the three-eyed demon fears potentially disturbing the being's eternal rest, only for an idea to spring to mind, one that shall never die.

A smile creeps across Boscha's face, the dread matched by equally-strong ambition. Boscha finally knows how she will finally conquer all of Hell; she doesn't need Amity or even an army, just this one titanic monster, this being from an era long forgotten, will bring her glory. She isn't sure how yet, she doesn't know how long this may take, but her destiny awaits.

She just needs the key to this behemoth's power.