The camera panned across a silent chamber. Bright white lights burned against the dark glass. Behind it, the world was watching.
Thirty-three-year-old Belamore Azazel walked toward the execution chamber, his footsteps echoing through the stifling, desolate hallway. The chains clinked with each step a haunting melody foreshadowing his fate.
Facing death, Belamore didn't plead. He spoke. Calmly. Boldly. His final words were broadcast to every corner of the Coalition:"
"What is a crime," he mused, "in a world built on injustice?"
The technicians hesitated. No one responded.
With a teasing laugh, he continued,
Do you really believe this world is just?" The chain rattled.. "This world is unfair by design!"
He fixed his gaze straight ahead, eyes calm yet piercing.
"Perhaps I was born evil. Or maybe… the world simply made me this way."
Once a renowned scientist, now branded a criminal mastermind, he was condemned for leading a notorious organization behind an unauthorized high-level project later identified as Project "Ediru". the initiative was said to pose a catastrophic threat to global safety, prompting coalition officials to label it a "weapon of mass distraction."
As the speaker's voice faded into the static of the broadcast, a girl perched on the campus rooftop looked up from her phone.
"A weapon of mass destruction?" she pondered aloud, flanked by two other students.
"It's terrifying to think that people like him actually exist! It feels like something out of a drama-are they real-life demons or something?" another girl chimed in, her voice laced with unease.
"You know, there are ancient beliefs that fallen angels were cast out of the heavens and have been secretly mingling with humans for thousands of years. They say their descendants are still among us today," a boy interjected.
"What are you saying, Lax? Don't scare us like that!" the first girl replied, a mix of awe and alarm in her tone.
"Think about it! Those with… dead eyes!" Lax exclaimed, his face contorting into a creepy expression that sent shivers down the girls' spines.
"Stop it!" one of the girls snapped, anger and fear flickering in her eyes.
"There are people who seem completely emotionless-eyes as dark as a bottomless void-lacking any spark of life. They reveal nothing of the soul that might be hidden behind them…" Lax continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
"They say those who possess such eyes inherit the darkness of their ancestors, as if they were born evil!"
"That sounds so creepy! How can you even tell if someone has dead eyes?" one girl asked, her curiosity piqued despite her fear.
"Trust me, you'll know when you see them. But for now, you two should stick with me so I can protect you," Lax said with a grin as he draped his arms around their shoulders.
Suddenly, a chill swept across the rooftop, making the air feel colder than moments before.