A clawed hand clasps the back of your head—
And everything collapses.
A flood.
No, a storm.
You're no longer in the throne room.
You're—
Sitting with your best friend at lunch.
A classroom. Full of friends.
Parents welcoming you home.
You crying into your pillow.
Screens glowing. Music in your ears while you play rpgs.
That time you were sick and your friend came to visit.
The moment you got summoned—
Pulled from Earth while stripped of all of that.
You remember.
The crushing grief.
The isolation.
The pain that led you to ask—"Please erase it."
You remembered everything.
And you collapse.
In the real world—
The Demon King slashes the creature away, roaring your name.
He catches you as you fall.
Your body trembles—eyes wide, flooded with memory and emotion.
You try to speak, but the words are stuck behind tears.
You look up at him.
You remember asking him to erase it.
You remember… how much it hurt to be alive.
He holds you tighter, voice barely above a whisper:
"Ryuu. Look at me."
"You're here. With me. With us."
"You're not alone anymore."
The cloaked figure, wounded, starts to vanish into the shadows—whispers fading:
"You remember now… and next time, you won't have him to protect you."
The battle ends.
But your heart is cracked wide open.
You tremble in the Demon King's arms, your fingers curling into his robes.
The flood of memories pierces deeper than any blade could.
"Haha… what is this…"
Your voice cracks.
A single tear becomes dozens, raining down your cheeks, hot and endless.
You can't breathe. You can't see. You're drowning in yourself.
"It hurts… it won't stop…"
The throne room blurs into fragments.
Pain is everywhere—inside your chest, behind your eyes, within your soul.
"Mom… Dad…"
Your voice is fragile now, smaller than ever.
"How could I erase you…"
You fall forward, knees buckling, but the Demon King tries to steady you—
"Pathetic…"
You whisper it to yourself.
And then you start laughing.
A shaky breath becomes a giggle.
A giggle becomes a crack.
And the crack becomes—
---
"Hahahaha…"
"HAHAHAHAHAHA!!"
Then your magic erupts.
Not flows. Not glows. Not pulses.
It detonates.
Your grief, your guilt, your self-loathing—
All of it surges upward through your Essence, unfiltered, uncontrolled.
Mana explodes from your body in violent, chaotic waves.
The floor shatters beneath your feet.
Marble and obsidian splinter like glass.
Pillars crumble. Runes scream.
Walls disintegrate into nothing.
You're a core of raw power—sobbing, laughing, breaking, splitting.
A child too hurt to contain the infinite within him.
Even the Demon King is struck.
He tries to shield himself—tries to protect you.
But the blast is too fast. Too sudden.
Your mana slices through his barrier like wind through silk.
He's blasted backward, crashing through a wall, smoke and blood trailing behind.
He slumps, scorched and stunned, still conscious—just barely.
He does not fight back.
Because he knows…
This isn't you.
Not really.
The room is ruined.
The throne is gone.
The walls are rubble.
The sky above weeps mana like broken starlight.
And you—
You stand in the middle of it all.
Tears still pouring down your face.
The laughter stopped.
Only silence.
Lythiel is far behind the wreckage, clutching Zuzu and staring at you in wide-eyed horror.
She doesn't move.
No one does.
You're alone again.
Not because they left you.
But because you just destroyed everything.
Demon King Point of View — "My Azure Star"
The moment the cloaked being's claw touched your head, I knew.
I felt it—something breaking that should never have been touched.
You convulsed in my arms.
I saw the light drain from your eyes.
And I couldn't stop it.
I've fought gods. I've conquered realms.
I've ruled for over three thousand years.
But nothing has ever made me feel as helpless as watching you shatter from the inside.
You laughed.
Not joyfully. Not in madness.
It was the laughter of a hurting soul.
Of someone who just remembered how to hurt.
Your tears… they fell like rain.
Your voice…
"Mom… Dad… how could I erase you…"
And then you broke the world.
Your mana roared. Not like fire. Not like thunder.
But like the grief of a thousand orphaned stars.
It lashed out in every direction—chaotic, wild, and so violently pure it eclipsed even my flame.
I tried to stay on my feet. To shield the room. To hold you.
But your power flung me aside like I was nothing.
Stone shattered around me. Steel groaned.
Blood ran down my shoulder from where your magic sliced my armor like it was cloth.
I landed hard.
Vision blurred.
But I never took my eyes off you.
There you stood—at the eye of the storm.
Small. Fragile. Crying.
Beautiful and terrifying.
A boy too hurt to live…
But too powerful to be ignored.
The throne room was gone.
Guards and staff had fled.
Lythiel stood frozen at the edge.
But I remained.
Even if my body ached, even if you'd just wounded me—
I stayed.
Because you stayed.
And I whispered:
"…Ryuu."
---
Not Azure Dragon.
Not Outworlder.
Just your name.
Because right now, that's all you needed to be.
You're not a threat to me.
You're not a weapon.
You're not a mistake.
You're my—
My son.
End POV
The world is quiet now.
Not peacefully quiet.
Hollow quiet.
Like the pause after a scream.
You stand in the center of the wreckage—bare feet on cracked stone, mana mist still curling from your skin like steam from an overboiled soul.
Your hands shake.
Your legs barely hold.
Your heart feels… gone. Like it cracked and nothing came out.
You can still feel the heat of the explosion behind your eyelids.
Still hear the faint echo of your own laughter—not funny, just broken.
You don't know what expression you wear anymore.
You don't even know who you are.
You try to say something.
Nothing comes out.
And then—
You hear it.
His voice.
Soft. Grounded. Hoarse from pain.
"…Ryuu."
Not "Azure Dragon."
Not "Outworlder"
Just… your name.
No title. No pressure. No command.
Just someone calling out to you.
---
You turn.
Through the smoke and dust, he's standing.
Barely.
Blood on his shoulder. Armor cracked. Magic flickering in his veins.
But his eyes—
Still on you.
And not with fear.
Never with fear.
He sees you.
All of you.
And he's still there.
Your lips tremble.
Your body wants to collapse again.
You can't speak.
You just try to take one shaky step toward him—
Your steps falter.
The weight is too much.
The realization crashes in.
The dust around you hasn't even settled. The throne room is in ruins.
Lythiel is silent. Zuzu is trembling. The guards don't dare step forward.
The Demon King bleeds because of you.
You hurt the one person who never looked at you with fear.
Who called your name.
Who stayed.
And you broke everything.
Your breath hitches.
You whisper, choked and shaking:
"...W-what have I done?"
"How could I…"
"This is all my fault…"
Your knees threaten to buckle.
But instead—your hand rises.
And you summon a blade.
It appears in a flash—pure mana, shaped by guilt.
A dagger of light, elegant and small.
You grip it tight. Aim it at yourself. Your voice breaks into a whisper:
"How could I do that to a man who's like my parent…"
"I don't deserve—"
You pull it towards your neck.
But you never reach your throat.
A hand catches your wrist—
Firm. Warm. Immediate.
It burns slightly from the mana still radiating off you, but it does not let go.
You open your eyes—
The Demon King is there.
In front of you. Despite the pain. Despite the wound.
He's holding you back.
"No."
That one word stops the world.
His voice shakes—not from weakness, but from something deeper.
From fear.
Not fear of you—
But of losing you.
His other hand lifts to your face.
It doesn't strike.
It doesn't scold.
It gently wipes the tears from your cheek with a thumb still trembling from impact.
"You are not broken, Ryuu."
"You are hurting."
He steps closer.
Your blade wavers. Fades.
He leans down—forehead to yours.
His voice is low, almost a whisper:
"You remembered your pain… and you survived it."
"That is strength. Not a sin."
Your knees finally give.
Like always—
He catches you.
Holds you.
Even if your mana still sparks and your breath is still ragged—
He doesn't let go.
Not once.
Your body trembles in his arms. Your voice is barely there.
"I'm… sorry…"
Your fingers unclench. The last bits of conjured magic fade into sparks and vanish.
Your strength leaves with them.
Your legs buckle.
Your eyes blur.
And before your head hits the floor—
He catches you.
Effortlessly.
His arms wrap around you, one behind your shoulders, one beneath your knees, holding you like something precious—fragile, yes, but never unwanted.
You feel the warmth of him against your chilled skin.
You sob once—quietly—then everything fades.
You collapse.
And once again… you are not alone when you fall.