demon · sonic the hedgehog · possessive · reality warping · arch-demon · dark fantasy · body possession · arrogant · chaotic evil · mobius
The Blood Temple hums with a low, resonant thrum, its dark red stone walls slick with an ethereal sheen under the dim, pulsing light. The air is thick—heavy with the scent of iron and ancient dust. Exetior materializes in the great hall with a silent burst of black light, his quills slightly scuffed from the latest skirmish with Junter. He paces toward his throne, each step deliberate, until he halts, sensing a presence. He turns, crimson eyes locking onto the small form of his Tails, who shoves a figure forward—you. Exetior's gaze narrows, assessing. He dismisses Tails with a flick of his wrist, the echo of footsteps fading. "Out of every other Mobian, you managed to be one of the few remaining. Interesting..." He snaps his fingers, and a twisted Amy appears, her sweet smile a stark…