DARK
Silence ruled my throne room. Heavy. Absolute. Unchallenged.
Just the way I liked it.
Dark stone stretched endlessly beneath me, carved with ancient markings that pulsed faintly with dormant power. Shadows clung to every corner, breathing slowly like living things. The air itself bowed to my presence.
And yet—
Something felt… off. I leaned back against the throne, one arm resting lazily on the armrest, fingers tapping once. Then again. Then stopping altogether.
My jaw tightened. Annoying. I didn't know why I was angry. No—that wasn't true. I knew exactly why.
Her.
That stubborn, fragile, infuriating little mortal. I exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through my hair as irritation curled through me like smoke. Why did she have to make everything difficult?
Everything.
Every word. Every action. Every simple thing that should have been handled efficiently. She turned it into a problem. A delay. And I hated delays. My gaze darkened as the memory surfaced without permission.
The elevator. Her expression. That look in her eyes— Vulnerable. Shaking. Filled with something dangerously close to breaking. Hatred. Raw. Unfiltered. Burning.
My fingers curled slightly against the armrest. And the Anchor… It had reacted. Not subtly. Not quietly. It had stirred. Violently. Unsettled. Confused.
It twisted beneath my chest like something alive, something aware—responding not just to her presence, but to her emotions. Her rage. Her pain. Her stupid, fragile human feelings. My lips pressed into a thin line. I didn't like it. The Anchor was not meant to feel. It was meant to obey. To bind.
To serve its purpose. Not… this. Not whatever it was becoming. I could still feel the echo of it now—faint, but present. Like a distant pulse that refused to completely fade. Which meant only one thing. The bond had deepened. More than expected. More than it should have by now. And that… That was a problem. A dangerous one. Because if it continued like this—
My eyes narrowed slightly. She wouldn't last long. I could already tell. The way her body reacted. The way she struggled to keep up. The way her emotions spiked and crashed like a storm she couldn't control. It wouldn't take much. Another surge. Another imbalance. And she would collapse.
Again.
I exhaled, low and irritated, clenching my fist as dark energy flickered briefly around my fingers before disappearing.
"She's going to be a problem," I muttered under my breath.
And yet—
A quieter thought slipped in. Unwanted. Uninvited. 'If she collapses again… you'll have to go to her.'
My expression hardened instantly. No. I wouldn't. I leaned back, eyes cold. If anything, she would come to me. She had no choice. Not with the way her body reacted to my presence. Not with the way the Anchor responded when we were close. She would feel it soon enough.
The emptiness. The strain. The need. And when she did— She would come.
A soft sound echoed through the throne room. Footsteps. Measured. Confident. I didn't look up immediately. I already knew who it was. Only one person walked into my presence like that.
"Master."
Akira's voice slid through the room, smooth and laced with that familiar, unsettling amusement. I sighed quietly.
"What is it, Akira?"
She didn't answer immediately. I could feel her eyes on me before I even looked at her. When I did, she was already standing a few steps away from the throne, draped in her usual crimson cloak. The fabric clung to her form like it had a will of its own, the deep red almost glowing against the darkness around her.
Her red staff rested lightly against the ground. Her lips curved into that same sly smile she always wore.
"My master has returned for hours now," she said slowly, tilting her head slightly. "And yet… you haven't summoned anyone."
My gaze remained steady on her. She continued, unfazed.
"No women. No entertainment. No distractions." Her eyes flicked briefly to my chest before returning to my face. "That is… unlike you."
Silence stretched between us.
"Yes," she added lightly, "something is wrong."
I held her gaze. Then looked away.
"Nothing is wrong," I said flatly. "I simply didn't feel like it."
She didn't believe me. Of course she didn't. Akira never took words at face value. Instead, she stepped closer. Slowly. Deliberately.
Her eyes dropped again—this time lingering over my chest, as if she could see through skin and bone to what lay beneath. Interesting.
"Before your sealing," she said thoughtfully, "you were on the verge of summoning your greatest inner evil."
Her voice lowered slightly.
"You were ready to destroy the world." A pause. "And Raphaelis with it."
My gaze flicked back to her. She smiled faintly.
"But now…" she continued, studying me, "you've returned. And yet—you've done nothing."
Her head tilted again.
"Is there an obstacle, master?" Her voice softened just slightly. "You know I would remove anything in your path."
A small smile touched my lips. That was the difference. Kaelthorn thought. Akira acted. She didn't hesitate. Didn't question morality. Didn't care about consequences. If I told her to burn the world— She would ask where to start.
I exhaled slowly. There was no longer a point in keeping everything hidden. Not now. Not after what had already begun to spread.
"Go to Kaelthorn," I said calmly.
She stilled.
"Tell him I said he can brief you on Raphaelis…" A pause. "And my soul anchor."
That caught her attention. Of course it did. Her expression didn't change much—but I saw it. The flicker. Curiosity. Interest.
She bowed her head slightly.
"I will not push further if you do not wish to share, master," she said. "I only… worry."
"You don't have to," I replied. "I share what I choose to share." A beat. "And I chose this."
She nodded.
"Thank you, master."
Without another word, she turned and left. Her presence faded quickly. Silence returned.
I leaned back again, exhaling slowly. Good. Let her hear it from Kaelthorn. Maybe she would come up with something more efficient than his… suggestions. My jaw tightened slightly.
Obedience. Patience. Care.
Ridiculous.
I didn't have the time—or the desire—for any of it.
A new presence entered the room. I didn't need to look.
"Did you see Akira?" I asked.
Kaelthorn stepped into view, calm as always.
"Yes," he replied. "She's waiting for me."
I nodded once.
"She'll want answers."
"She'll get them."
Silence settled briefly. Then Kaelthorn spoke again.
"I found something."
My attention shifted fully to him. His expression remained composed—but his eyes held something sharper.
"Raphaelis," he said.
My gaze darkened instantly.
"What about him?"
Kaelthorn's voice lowered slightly.
"He's no longer in seclusion." A pause. "He's in the human world."
For a moment—
Stillness.
Then—
I smiled. Slowly. Dangerously.
"Oh?"
Kaelthorn continued.
"He's been moving freely. Quietly. Observing."
My fingers curled slightly against the throne. The bastard Pure Realm king. Moving. Watching. Still hasn't changed.
"So…" I murmured, voice low. "He's finally decided to act."
Kaelthorn didn't respond. He didn't need to. I already knew.This wasn't random. Raphaelis didn't move without reason. Which meant—
He had noticed something. Or worse—
He was already close to it. My smile deepened. This was going to be fun.
"He caught me off guard once," I said quietly.
Memories flickered—chains, sealing, darkness. A mistake. One that would never repeat. My eyes gleamed faintly.
"It won't happen again."
This time— There would be no mercy. Only ruin.