The Demons were losing.
The Army of the Radiant Empire fought the advances of the Infernal Legion led by Lilith Zevra—Queen of Demons. Her invasion of the mortal plane—meant to spread her sovereignty, was failing utterly.
The Radiant Empire's heroes proved more than capable against her Legion's best.
Now, with a great number of her men slaughtered and with the Infernal Houses swiftly losing all trust in her, she was left with no other choice.
She invoked the ancient rites and called upon Azrakul, the Primordial Demon.
She gave her blood and prepared to lose her crown to the demon of myth and legend that possessed unfathomable power.
The ground shook as her blood met the circle. The Legion watched in rapture, shadows bending toward the light.
Then—where they expected a god—instead stood something none of then could have ever forseen...
...A human.
"Who... are you?" The voice of Lilith echoed with absolute authority, sending Liam's heart into a frantic rhythm at the sound alone.
He turned, his eyes sweeping first across the Infernal Houses' generals, each one a more terrifying sight than the last.
They looked like any other human in face and figure—but only that. Each one possessed a horn protruding from their head.
And their forms? Clad in armor of imposing black, heavy in ways that made one not even dream of piercing through them.
Then finally, his eyes landed on her.
The origin of the voice... the Demon Queen.
A sight of her alone was enough to make most fall to their knees.
She was the greatest contradiction of insurmountable beauty and terror reality could ever conjure.
Her most arresting feature was the waterfall of luminescent, snow-white hair that cascaded past her waist, a glaring contrast to the shadows she commanded.
From her crown sprang a pair of wicked, obsidian horns tipped with a dangerous, blood-red hue—a clear mark of her infernal lineage.
Liam couldn't tell what froze him in place—fear or reverence.
However, when her voice came again, loud and imposing:
"I asked you a question."
He became certain it was most definitely fear.
'The knife. The office. Maria... Oh god, Maria.
I died...and this is hell.
This is my punishment. But for what? For not getting Mark a better birthday present? For that time I—'
His spiraling panic was severed as his vision was blotted out by screens of stark, alien light.
[Synchronization Complete.]
[Designation: "Infernal Sovereign" — Activated.]
[Requirement: Subjugate the Realm of Demons.]
[Warning: You are not the real Demon Lord... yet.]
"What?" Liam muttered in confusion as he looked down at the screens.
[Entering Tutorial Mode]
Suddenly, everything vanished—the Demon Generals, the guards, the castle, and even the terrifying Demon Queen.
All Liam saw was darkness...
And it all lit up.
The scene morphed into a field that stretched long and endlessly, the sun rose, its light cascading down on the plains like a final defense against an inevitable darkness.
Then in the distance, Liam saw a figure standing, the winds billowing against its clothes as he simply stood and stared into the horizon.
"I don't have long left... come quickly."
The figure's voice transcended distance, meeting Liam as though he stood right in front of him.
'First hell and now heaven... it seems I really did die.'
Liam's heart thumped in his chest, and it took everything for him to steel himself and take a step forward.
He didn't need another.
With that single step he covered all distance between him and the figure, now standing side by side with him.
Liam looked up at him, swiftly finding the horn protruding out his head, then turned back to the horizon with a sigh.
"You're a demon as well," Liam blurted, his voice carrying a calmness so contrasting to the fear he felt moments ago, one born from the resignation of a man who now understood he had nothing left to lose.
"I'm what's left of one," the entity answered with a sigh that sounded almost like regret.
"So... I'm dead." Acceptance soaked Liam's tone as he spoke.
"No, much worse than that..." The figure turned to Liam. "You've been chosen."
Ashra raised its arm and the fields dissolved into darkness and stars, and in the midst of this endless stretch of the cosmos, a flame burned so brightly it threatened to consume the universe.
"Long ago, all living things were born from the same source — the Primordial Flame."
Then the scene changed, showing an entity larger than life, a world in its grasp.
"But when one god sought perfection, he divided the world into Light and Shadow," the figure continued. "That act created the first demon: Azrakul, the Lord of Will. Me."
The scene dissolved, showing silhouettes of the demons performing the summoning ritual.
"I was the original 'Primordial Demon' the demon race intended to summon—but I cannot help them. The gods destroyed me long ago."
He paused, his voice carrying something almost akin to sadness.
"But my essence survived in the void, merging with the remnants of creation—the foundation of the Infernal System that now bonds to you," Azrakul explained.
"Infernal System?" Liam turned.
"Yes."
The vast, starry canvas around them shuddered, the endless void making the two figures feel profoundly small yet central to the universe they occupied.
"The Infernal System... it is not some tool forged by a benevolent spirit," Azrakul said, his voice echoing in the darkness. "It is the essence of my broken will, the shattered foundation of what a true Demon Lord is meant to be. It has bonded to you, Liam, not because you are mighty, but because you are possible."
He raised a hand, and the stars re-wove themselves, coalescing into a colossal, burning throne of black rock and flame that eclipsed the heavens.
"This is the core of your new reality," Azrakul declared. "The Throne Engine."
"The universe your enemies know rewards virtue, patience, and repetition. Not this one," the Primordial Demon continued, his image now a silhouette against the burning throne. "The Infernal System—rewards only three things: Dominance, Belief, and Sin. These are your Three Pillars of Sovereignty."
As he spoke, three radiant, hellish columns of light flared up from the throne, each one distinct.
"You have been granted a system designed to steal power, to earn it through might, and to fear it into existence."
"Look."
The scene shifted.
The throne dissolved, replaced by a battlefield.
Liam saw the Infernal Legion, which had moments ago been losing, now standing triumphant over the broken remnants of the Radiant Empire's forces.
"The first pillar is Dominance," Azrakul stated, pointing to a Demon General on a war-steed, whose form swelled with power. "To rule the world, you must first rule those who fear you."
"Your system tracks your Dominion Count," Azrakul explained. "It grows through conquest, manipulation, and control. Every creature that submits to your will, be it through fear or willing subjugation, adds to this count and feeds power back to the system."
A ghostly green notification flashed momentarily in the air:
[Dominion Established: Fortress of Grathar now feeds Essence to Vraeloth.]
[1000 souls kneel beneath your name. Authority +1%]
"Higher Dominance isn't just a number; it is a spiritual weight," Azrakul elaborated. "It enhances your aura control, your mental influence over others, and grants you a chilling strategic foresight in all matters of rule."
The battlefield vanished, replaced by a sprawling medieval city, its people kneeling in the streets, looking up at a figure on a massive statue.
The figure was Liam.
"The second pillar is Belief," Azrakul said, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. "Truth is irrelevant. Belief is godhood."
"This Pillar grows when others believe in you—whether they hail you as a savior, a terrifying tyrant, or a dark god. Their faith, or their fear, is your fuel. It determines how reality itself responds to your presence."
"The more mortals who believe you are utterly unstoppable, the more unstoppable you become," Azrakul explained. "This is a direct bypass of physical law, bending probability and matter to align with perception."
He gestured to the city. "If ten thousand of your enemies believe your flames cannot be extinguished, then they cannot. The system will rewrite the law of that moment to honor the combined spiritual weight of their belief."
The air shimmered with more transient data:
[Faith Resonance Detected: 2,431 mortals invoked your name in fear and worship.]
[Conceptual Strength increased by 0.03%.]
"Dominance controls others; Belief controls the very fabric of existence," Azrakul finished.
The city faded into a chilling, empty void where only two things existed: a gigantic, beating heart of pure crimson energy and a shattered chain wrapped around it.
"Finally, the most dangerous of the three: Sin," Azrakul said, a hint of ancient satisfaction in his tone. "Every rule broken is another chain shattered."
"The universe has laws, Liam. Cosmic laws upheld by the gods and angels. Your Sin count grows through their defiance—killing angels, corrupting saints, and fundamentally rewriting destiny in ways that should not be possible."
He pointed to the throbbing heart. "High Sin does two things: it grants you System Evolution Points to radically upgrade the 'Throne Engine' itself, and it unlocks Forbidden Functions—powers capable of world-shaping."
A final, grave warning accompanied the image of the shattered chain.
"But be warned: each act of Sin pulls you closer to losing yourself," Azrakul said, the sorrow in his voice now unmistakable.
"Your mind will become something alien, vast, and ancient, shedding your humanity for the true, cold nature of a Primordial Demon."
Azrakul's figure became less distinct, his form beginning to dissipate back into the starlight.
"Remember the core directive, Liam," he murmured, his voice fading. "Power is not given. It is stolen, earned, or feared into existence. Now, go. The world awaits..."
Liam understood with unnerving clarity. He wasn't dead, he was just in a new world and to survive in this world, he had to be the monster they want him to be.
And the only thing worse than a monster, was a man desperate enough to become one.
The stars, the void, the remnants of the ancient Demon Lord—all dissolved as the world snapped back to the stark, empty darkness from which it had sprung.
A screen appeared before Liam, solitary and glowing.
[Tutorial: Complete.]
The darkness shattered like glass.
Liam felt it all, the stone beneath him, the air thick with sulfur and heat.
Then his eyes met her once more, Lilith. Her gaze—molten gold, sharp as blades—locked on him.
"You," She hissed, voice trembling on the edge of fury and something she'd never known—uncertainty. "Answer my question. Who are you?"
Liam felt it press on his head—the faint shape of the black crown.
A pressure built behind his eyes. Whispers slipped through the cracks of his mind, tasting his fear.
Then the fear drained away, replaced by something cold and absolute.
The hall went still.
The torches bent toward him as though drawn by gravity. Even the shadows hesitated.
He looked at her—and gave the most menacing smile he could muster.
"I," his voice deeper now, resonant and unshaking, "am your Lord."