Lucian POV
The room was suffocatingly quiet, but my mind was anything but. I sat on the edge
of the couch, my hands trembling slightly as I stared at my bloodstained fists.
Veer's death replayed in my mind—a relentless loop of the moment I ended the
man's life.
"Was it worth it?"
The voice was sharp, cutting through my thoughts like glass. I didn't have to look
up to know who it was. I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms.
"Don't," I muttered, my tone low and warning.
But Lilith ignored me, her figure flickering into view in the corner of the room.
She leaned against the wall, arms crossed, her expression a mix of pity and disdain.
"You didn't even hesitate," she said, stepping forward, her bare feet making no
sound. "You just... killed him. Snuffed out his life like it was nothing."
I glared at her, the faint glow of the Demon King's mark pulsing beneath my shirt.
"He deserved it. You don't understand what he—"
"I don't understand?" Her voice rose, cutting me off. "He was alive, Lucian. He
was a person. And now he's gone. Because of you."
I shot up from the couch, pacing the length of the room like a caged animal. "He
was a parasite! A cog in the machine that killed you!"
"And killing him brought me back, did it?" Lilith's voice softened, her eyes
shimmering with a sadness that pierced through my fury. "Does it make you feel
better? Or do you just tell yourself it does?"
I stopped, my breath ragged. I turned to face her, my eyes burning. "What do
you want from me? Forgiveness? Closure? I don't have time for this!"
Lilith stepped closer, her presence cold and unrelenting. "I want you to see what
you're becoming."
Her gaze dropped to my chest, where the mark glowed faintly, the dark veins
around it spreading further each day. "That thing on you... it's feeding on this. On
you. And you're letting it."
I shook my head, pressing my hand to my chest as if to smother the mark's
influence. "I'm doing what needs to be done. This city is rotten. These people are
corrupt. If I don't stop them, who will?"
Lilith's figure wavered, her voice softening into something almost tender. "At
what cost, Lucian?"
For a moment, the room was silent again, her question hanging in the air like a
noose. I turned back to the table, picking up the knife, staring at my reflection
in the blade.
"I don't care about the cost," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "They took
everything from me. I'll take everything from them."
When I looked up again, Lilith was gone. But her words lingered, a haunting echo
in the corners of my mind.
I slipped the knife into a drawer, locking it away along with the doubts gnawing at
the edges of my thoughts.
"Power invites attention," I muttered to myself. "And attention invites enemies."
Stepping to the window, I gazed out at the city, my reflection in the glass
revealing eyes darker than I remembered.
"For now, I'll stay in the shadows. The world isn't ready to see what I've become."
The mark on my chest pulsed one last time, a faint glow in the darkness.
As the echo of Lilith's voice faded, the oppressive silence of the room closed in
around me. I slumped into my chair, staring at the picture of her on the wall.
My fingers drummed against the desk, the rhythm matching the erratic beat of
my thoughts. Her voice lingered in my mind, a whisper I couldn't ignore.
"She wouldn't just leave me," I murmured. "Not like that. There's something I'm
missing. Something they're hiding."
The photograph seemed to watch me, her smile almost taunting. My jaw tightened.
I grabbed a stack of files, flipping through them with frantic determination.
If the world thought it could bury the truth, it was about to learn otherwise.
The glow of the desk lamp spilled across the chaos of papers spread before me,
illuminating a mind consumed by obsession. News clippings, financial reports, and
photographs were pinned and taped together in a chaotic web. At the center of
it all was a picture of Lilith, her smile radiant and warm—a sharp contrast to the
cold determination in my eyes.
"They said it was an accident," I muttered to myself, my voice sharp and biting.
"But accidents don't just happen. Not like that."
I leaned over the table, gripping the edges as if steadying myself against the
weight of my thoughts. "A truck driver falls asleep at the wheel? No. Too
convenient. Too... clean."
My fingers traced a line on a financial report, stopping at the name of a
corporation—Pinnacle Freight Logistics. They owned the truck involved in the
crash. The name sent a bitter taste to my mouth; they had a reputation for
cutting corners and greasing the right palms to avoid scrutiny.
"Pinnacle Freight," I whispered. "Let's see how deep your pockets go."
The mark on my chest throbbed faintly, its rhythm syncing with the growing fire
in my chest. I'd spent weeks chasing the faintest of leads—every unbalanced
ledger, every hushed conversation—but nothing concrete had surfaced yet.
Not until now.
Later That Night
I found myself outside a towering office building, its glass façade reflecting the
city's shimmering lights. I adjusted my hoodie, pulling it low over my face as I
surveyed the entrance.
"Security's tight," I murmured to myself, noticing the guards stationed by the
doors. "But they're not invincible."
Slipping into the shadows, I made my way to a service entrance. With practiced
precision, I bypassed the lock, slipping inside unnoticed.
The office was eerily quiet, the hum of computers and distant traffic the only
sounds. I moved with purpose, my steps light and deliberate as I approached a
workstation labeled Transport Coordinator.
I inserted a drive into the terminal, my fingers flying over the keyboard. Screens
flashed as I downloaded files, pulling up routes, employee records, and financial
transactions.
"There," I muttered, my eyes narrowing at a set of documents flagged with
irregularities. Large sums of money, funneled to untraceable accounts. Contracts
signed by ghost corporations. It all pointed to a tangled web of corruption.
But one file stopped me cold. A delivery manifest from the day of the crash—
altered to hide the true contents of the truck.
"They covered it up," I whispered, my pulse quickening. "Why? What was so
important that it was worth her life?"
My grip tightened on the desk as anger surged through me. My mind raced with
possibilities, each one darker than the last.
"Whoever did this... they're going to pay."
I extracted the drive, tucking it into my pocket as I slipped back into the night.
The city stretched out before me, a labyrinth of deceit and power plays.
And me?
I was done being a pawn.
The drive felt heavy in my pocket, as if it carried more than just files—it carried
the weight of everything I'd lost. As I stepped back into the cold night, the city
loomed before me, its glittering façade masking the rot festering beneath.
I knew what I had to do, but the path ahead wasn't clear. Not yet. Answers
weren't just going to fall into my lap.
I pulled my hoodie tighter against the wind, my thoughts racing as fast as the
cars rushing past me. Veer's death was just the beginning. If I wanted the truth,
I'd have to be ready to go further, to dig deeper.
The truth about Lilith's death was buried somewhere in this city. And I was going
to unearth it, no matter what it took.
The bureaucrat's house was a monument to excess—polished marble floors, velvet
curtains, and an air of superiority that clung to every corner like a bad stench. It
disgusted me.
I slipped through the shadows of his study, my steps silent against the floor. The
room reeked of his arrogance, the shelves lined with books that he probably never
read, awards he never earned, and photographs of him shaking hands with other
parasites like him.
He was slouched in his chair, a glass of whiskey in his hand, staring at the city
through the floor-to-ceiling windows. He didn't notice me at first. That was the
thing about people like him—they never saw the storm coming.
When I stepped into the dim light, his eyes snapped to me. For a moment, he
froze, the glass trembling in his hand. Then came the stammering.
"W-Who are you? How did you get in here?"
I didn't answer. Words weren't necessary. I took another step forward, and the
glow of the Demon King's mark pulsed faintly beneath my shirt. His fear hit me
like a wave, sharp and exhilarating.
"You've built your empire on the broken lives of the innocent," I said, my voice low
and steady. "Do you really think you deserve to live?"
His face went pale, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. The
glass slipped from his hand, shattering on the floor, but he didn't move to pick it
up.
"I-I don't know what you're talking about," he stuttered.
"Don't lie to me." I stepped closer, the mark thrumming with energy. My power
surged, and with it came the ability to see into his mind—his deepest fears, his
darkest secrets. They spilled out in front of me like a grotesque tapestry.
"You've siphoned money from relief funds," I said, my tone sharpening. "Paid off
officials to cover your tracks. And when people got too close, you made them
disappear."
He staggered back, hitting the wall, his eyes wide and panicked. "Please... I can
explain—"
"Explain to them," I snapped, gesturing to the ghosts of his victims that flickered
to life around him, their faces twisted in pain and anguish. They weren't real, of
course—just projections from his mind that I manipulated. But he didn't know
that.
He sank to his knees, clutching his head as if he could block out the visions. "I
didn't mean to... It wasn't supposed to—"
I leaned down, my face inches from his. "They didn't mean to die either. But they
did. Because of you."
I placed a pen and a blank note in front of him. "Write."
His trembling hand reached for the pen, and he began scrawling his confession.
His words spilled out in shaky, uneven letters, detailing every crime, every
atrocity. I watched silently, the satisfaction pooling in my chest.
When he finished, he looked up at me, tears streaming down his face. "Please... I
don't want to die..."
I tilted my head, studying him like a predator sizing up its prey. "That's not my
decision to make."
I picked up the note, scanning it briefly before placing it neatly on his desk. The
knife in my hand was cold and final.
He didn't scream. He barely even struggled.
By the time I left, the room was immaculate—a carefully staged scene of guilt
and regret. The confession note was perfectly placed beside the body, the pen
still in his hand. To the world, it would look like a man consumed by his sins, finally
facing the weight of his actions.
But as I stepped back into the night, I couldn't ignore the faint, gnawing unease
at the back of my mind.
The mark pulsed, a reminder of its presence. A reminder of what I was becoming.
"The world will call this justice," I muttered to myself, shoving my hands into my
pockets as I disappeared into the shadows. "I call it retribution."
The next morning, the city buzzed with the news.
"BREAKING: Prominent Bureaucrat Found Dead in Apparent Suicide."
The headline screamed from every screen, every street corner, a morbid
symphony of sensationalism. Photos of the scene flashed on the news—police tape,
investigators, the note I had so carefully staged.
"Sources reveal a confession left at the scene, detailing years of corruption and
embezzlement. Investigators are calling this a pivotal moment in uncovering the
city's dark underbelly."
I sat in the dim light of a café, sipping black coffee as the broadcast continued.
Around me, people whispered and speculated, their faces a mix of shock and
vindication.
The news anchor's voice trembled with faux sympathy. "This confession has sent
shockwaves through the political world, exposing a network of deceit and
exploitation."
I didn't feel guilt. Not even a trace. The satisfaction of seeing the city's elite
crumble under their own sins drowned out anything else.
For them, it was a scandal. For me, it was justice.
After that night, the line between necessity and desire blurred. I killed many—
so many that I lost count. Their faces were fleeting shadows in my memory, their
names meaningless. At first, I told myself it was for justice, for Lilith.
But the truth?
I didn't regret killing them. If anything, I felt... alive. Each life I ended chipped
away at the rot in this city. And with every strike, the mark on my chest pulsed
brighter, feeding on the chaos I unleashed.
There was no hesitation anymore, no voice in my head questioning my actions. The
silence was liberating.
Lilith's ghost didn't return after that night. Maybe she couldn't bear to watch
what I was becoming—or maybe she realized I no longer needed her to guide me.
I didn't care.
Because for the first time in my life, I felt free.
The city groaned beneath the weight of its own corruption, the streets alive with
whispers of fear. They were starting to notice. The bureaucrat, the financier,
the councilman—one by one, they had fallen. And now, the scent of terror lingered
in every dark alley, every hushed conversation.
I stood on the rooftop of an abandoned building, the skyline sprawled before me
like a battlefield. The chill of the wind pressed against my skin, but I barely felt
it. My hand grazed the hilt of the knife tucked into my jacket, the familiar weight
grounding me.
Each death had left a mark—not on me, but on them. On the city. Veer's demise
had been the first crack, and now the entire structure was fracturing.
I let out a bitter laugh, the sound swallowed by the howling wind. "Each life I take,
it feels like I'm carving away the rot. One body at a time, until there's nothing
left to poison this city."
The mark on my chest pulsed faintly, a steady rhythm syncing with my heartbeat.
It had grown darker, its veins spreading like roots beneath my skin. At first, I
thought I'd feel something. Guilt. Hesitation. Anything.
But there was only the thrill.
The memory of their faces—the way their eyes widened in realization, the fear
that bled into their final moments—it lingered like a ghost in my mind. I couldn't
tell if it haunted me or thrilled me. Maybe both.
I stepped closer to the edge of the roof, staring down at the city below. They
thought they could hide from me, that their lies would protect them. But I was
everywhere.
And I wasn't done.
The cracked glass of a nearby window caught my reflection as I turned away. My
gaze froze. The eyes staring back weren't mine—not the deep blue Lilith used to
say reminded her of a calm sea.
They glowed faintly red, a haunting reminder of what I was becoming.
"Do you even recognize yourself anymore?"
The voice came from behind me, soft and cutting. I didn't turn. I didn't need to.
"I thought I told you to stay out of my head," I muttered.
Lilith's ghost stepped into view in the reflection, her form wavering like smoke.
She crossed her arms, her face a mixture of sadness and reproach.
"You're not just carving away the rot, Lucian. You're letting it consume you."
I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. "I'm doing what needs to be done.
They deserve this."
Her gaze pierced through me. "And what about you? Do you deserve what you're
becoming?"
I turned away from the window, her voice chasing me into the shadows. But I
didn't answer.
I couldn't.
I couldn't shake the echo of her voice. Her presence was like a shadow, always
lurking just out of sight, reminding me of who I was, who I used to be. But she
wasn't here anymore. She was gone, taken by the system I was now fighting to
break.
I rubbed my face, the coldness of my hand grounding me in the present. The city
stretched out before me, the dim streetlights like a blanket of stars, each one a
reminder of the faces I'd erased. Faces that didn't matter anymore. They were
just pieces of a broken puzzle, replaced with new pieces that had yet to realize
their place in the destruction I was creating.
Lilith's image flickered beside me again, and I didn't turn to face her. I wasn't
ready to confront her, not now.
"You're getting deeper, Lucian," she whispered. "Each step you take, the mark
takes more. It's not just your hands that are stained anymore."
I clenched my jaw. "I know what I'm doing. I've never been more certain. Every
life I take brings me closer to ending the corruption. You can't possibly
understand that. You're gone, and the world's still turning. And so am I."
Her ghost didn't flinch, her face as calm as ever, but her eyes—those eyes—
drilled into me, seeing through the mask I wore. "It's not about what's 'necessary.'
It's about what's right. And right now, all I see is someone who's become the very
thing he swore to destroy. You've traded one kind of power for another. And this
one... it doesn't care who you were."
I turned my back on her, the mark burning beneath my shirt like a brand. "You
don't get it. This power—it's what I need. It's what I deserve."
A cold laugh escaped her. "You deserve nothing, Lucian. Not this, not the thrill of
every life you snuff out. That's not justice. That's vengeance."
I gritted my teeth, stepping away from the edge. I couldn't face her, couldn't
hear the doubts she was trying to plant. If I did, I might just stop. And I wasn't
going to stop. Not now. Not when I was so close.
"You think I'm wrong?" I whispered. "Then show me the way. Show me how I can
fix this. Tell me how to bring her back."
There was no answer.
"Exactly," I muttered to myself. "Because there's no way. You're dead, and I'm
the one left to clean up this mess." I tightened my fists until my knuckles cracked,
the anger rising within me like a tide that couldn't be stopped.
But then, beneath the fury, something shifted—a crack in the armor. For just a
second, I saw it. A glimpse of my reflection in the broken glass. A shadow of who
I used to be.
The person who cared. The person who would've stopped before it went too far.
But that person was gone.
I glanced back at the city. A thousand lives hung in the balance, but they meant
nothing now. All that mattered was the mission. The goal. And I was the only one
who could see it through.
The mark on my chest burned again, as if urging me forward, as if it had taken
root deep inside me, feeding on my anger and my thirst for vengeance. The red
glow intensified, swirling under my skin, and for the first time, I embraced it.
I welcomed it.
There would be no stopping me.
And in that moment, I understood. This was who I was now.