Anyone would think twice before disturbing him. Seated on the throne, his body still, his eyes burning with a steady, dangerous light, he looked less like a man and more like a coiled serpent waiting to strike.
But beneath the shadowed mask, his thoughts churned.
Where am I?
Why am I here?
Why am I alive?
What is my purpose?
…And why me?
These questions never left him. They clawed at him in the quiet moments, when the world around him fell silent and the shadows pressed too close.
He called it Game Mode—a switch in his mind, honed through years of escaping into online games. It was his way of severing the weight of reality. In that state, he could forget his pain, his failures, his loneliness. Hours and days would blur as he fought monsters or players, eating only when forced, sleeping only when exhaustion claimed him.
But when the game ended, reality crashed back harder—the depression, the hollow ache, the reminder that life had not given him the victories the game did. That was why he kept playing—because stopping meant facing the void.
When he was pulled into this world, his Game Mode saved him. It let him act decisively, fight without hesitation, survive in chaos. Yet reality found its cracks: Maia's grief at losing her family. Ella's scars from slavery. The raw fear in the eyes of the orc he had condemned to the shadows.
That was no NPC, no respawning enemy. That was a living being. And when he destroyed it, he felt the weight of murder settle over him. He told himself it was justice, survival, even necessity—but the guilt lingered.
He thought back to his old life. Once, he had given his heart away. He had loved deeply, recklessly. And she had broken him, never returning what he had offered so freely. Since then, he had never risked it again. The throne he now sat on felt more familiar than the warmth of companionship had, back then.
And then came her—the Princess. Victoria. Radiant, fierce, untouchable. A dream made flesh. He had scoffed at "love at first sight" once, but now… he could not deny it. She filled a hollow in him he thought would never close.
Her voice slid into his mind, silken and teasing. "Brooding again, my love?"
He looked up as she stepped from the shadows, every movement a poem, every smile a trap he willingly walked into. His heart swelled and ached at once. She sat gracefully on his lap, arms circling his shoulders, her presence both comfort and temptation.
"I can read your thoughts, you know," she whispered with a mischievous smile.
And he almost laughed. Of course she could. She always knew the storms within him. And yet—she never recoiled. She stayed.
"You're conflicted, my love," she continued as if he had replied. "I know you're hesitating." She looked him in the eyes. "I'm not going to push you into consuming those souls so you can ascend and summon me, my love."
"But you said before that I needed to do this as soon as possible," he replied, trying to read her intentions.
"That will soon come, my love. For the meantime, you can use your time to understand how your power works." She smiled sweetly. "I suggest asking your right hand, Puff, how your shadow minions work. You've been so busy lately that you forgot to master your skill, which will lead you to discovering new ones."
---
General Puff
"As you command, Dark iYoda," Puff replied with one eyebrow raised, amused. The Dark Lord was clearly playing another private joke no one else understood. "I will address you by one of your aliases from now on—when you're here at your throne room."
"Gooood… Gooood…" the Dark Lord intoned, before breaking into a maniacal laugh. Puff smiled wryly. Yes, another joke indeed.
"Now, Puff, my magic dragon, tell me everything about my shadow realm and minions."
The title made Puff tilt his head. "I'm not sure what to tell you, Dark iYoda, that you don't already know."
"Anything will help," the Dark Lord said with mirth, still savoring his joke.
Puff gathered his thoughts. "The shadows obey your will. Your strength rises with the number of souls you command. We are one with you, and you with us. You have rightly named it your dominion—for you are the ruler of darkness."
The Dark Lord's gaze turned distant. "Gooood… Gooood…"
"How did you become a minion, Puff?" he asked at last.
"You summoned me, Dark iYoda. I was the first to choose service when you gave us that choice. I felt the strength then… until you summoned others. Each became strong in their own way, because you willed it so, and the shadows obeyed."
"Gooood… Gooood…" the Dark Lord murmured again, more serious now.
He let the shadows rise. Smoke curled from his limbs, dissolving flesh into mist. He did not resist, letting the darkness consume him fully.
The Dark Lord was part of the Shadow Realm now. Suddenly all his minions were connected to him—he could see what they were doing through their eyes. He waved a hand and the shadow bent to his will—gray tendrils of smoke gathered in front of his throne, then coalesced into a screen that showed visions from the eyes of his minions. He saw Puff's vision looking at him, then at the parchment he was scribbling on. Then an idea came to him like a light bulb—what if he willed—suddenly he was standing beside Puff. He looked back at the throne where he had been a while ago—there was a shadow of him left there that started fading.
What if—he willed—then Puff screamed in surprise as he was sent to his fading body on the throne. His fading body went back to solid, but Puff was now morphed with his avatar.
"Puff, can you move?" he asked.
Slowly Puff—now the Dark Lord Avatar—raised his hand. "What's happening, Dark iYoda?" Puff asked, his voice the same as his Dark Lord's.
"Puff, stand up and come here," he said, excited by what he had just discovered.
Puff/Dark Lord Avatar, sitting on the throne, slowly stood up and walked toward him.
"It's alive! It's alive! Wahahaha!" the Dark Lord said, laughing—his hand upraised as if talking to someone above.
Puff suddenly realized what had happened…
Puff's link to him flared like fire. He smiled. The Dark Lord's enemies would rue this day.