After speaking with his siblings, Pythius had decided to walk back to his place. He needed to take some time to clear his head anyway, and it's not like it took that long to get to the phase gate that would bring him to Ephlyt from Caentra.
It was odd to see the streets so quiet. Though there were people out, it was nowhere near as many as usual, and the general mood seemed to be apprehensive at best. They hadn't made the announcement to the general public yet-- that would take place early the next day. It was likely for that reason that most people were probably around their homes.
...At least it was a nice enough night. A cool breeze curled its way through the streets; the sort that typically heralded a few days of bitter cold to come. Hell's weather never did stay consistent for long.
Almost there. And not a moment too soon, either. His head was killing him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a migraine like this...wasn't it back when--?
His thoughts were cut short by someone dropping on him from one of the nearby rooftops. Though he tried to dodge away, the demon was quick to send arcs of electricity leaping across the ground to cause Pythius' body to seize up. Before he could even recover, the larger demon had landed right on top of him and knocked him to the ground.
Lightning, and...were they a telepath of some kind? His head was swimming. Time seeming to slow down to a crawl even as the prince forced the other off of him and stumbled to his feet. It was hard to describe how disorienting it was.
Well, at least they were making it interesting. They really were a clever bastard, weren't they? A grin spread on Pythius' lips, and he could feel a sound resembling both a laugh and a snarl rumble up from his chest.
The assailant tried to send out more electricity, but by that point, it was far too late. Now that he knew the other's game, it was simple enough for Pythius to call up a shield of shadow to simply swallow up the offending attacks. A kick connected solidly with their gut, knocking the wind out of them, and making them slide backwards along the ground a few feet.
Before he could even close the distance between them again though, the other rolled onto their stomach, as though to push themselves up. But instead, their arms came over the top of their own head, and they began to whimper and plead...
...Though it didn't seem like it was for mercy from Pythius. Rather, they were begging for something to get out of their head.
As they writhed on the ground in agony, it finally clicked in the prince's head what was likely wrong with them. A shiver crawled up his spine, and he took a few steps back, only for the disorientation to have him tripping back against a building instead.
They were Corrupted. They were Corrupted, and they'd touched him--
But no. It couldn't have been long enough to Corrupt him, too. There was no way.
It was in a near panic that Pythius quickly ended the would-be assassin. Teleporting himself to the safety of his home almost faster, still.
Dammit. This really was just his luck, wasn't it?
