Damien's mind raced.
At first, he had lashed out. Shouted. Demanded. But now, after what felt like hours of standing in the void, facing the silent Monarch of Shadows, he was calm. The rage had cooled into something sharper. Something more precise.
He began to dissect Baran's words.
He remembered how the Demon King had spoken of the events leading up to Ki's murder. Vritra had told him Anu was in long-term meditation. But what if that was a lie? What if Anu and Ashborn had hidden the truth?
"There was mention of many other realms," Damien said, his voice echoing through the void. "Ones that I have been visiting. At first, I attributed them to the system. But even the system is gone now. No more levels. Once I gained the Black Heart, I ascended beyond the system. Yet the dungeons remained."
He paused, his eyes fixed on Ashborn's still form.
"I thought I was the same as Sung Jin Woo...where the system made the dungeons for him. Simulations. But that is not the case, is it? The dungeons I went through... they were all real. Remains of those realms."
He took a step closer.
"In that case, what is this final dungeon? Who is Baran? Because he cannot be the real one, can he? He spoke of the realms as if he was there, as if he remembered them. But if he was truly imprisoned here by Ashborn, then this Baran is not the original. He is a fragment. A memory given form."
Ashborn stood still, his purple eyes unmoving.
Damien continued.
"The first thing I know is that the dungeon warned me to bring a party. To face the demons....WAIT!"
He closed his eyes, recalling the notification.
[You have gained the right to challenge the Twelve Demons of Hell and the King of Hell.]
"The system never gave me a hint to bring a party. It simply stated what I would face. It was I who assumed it was hinting at a party." His eyes snapped open. "But it was not. Instead, the hint was that there were twelve demons...two for each sin. And yet I had thought Baran would either be Pride, or that Pride was in hiding."
He paused, his voice dropping.
"But the system does not lie. It stated that I would face twelve demons....which we did...and Baran...which I did. So where is Pride?"
He looked at Ashborn.
"No. I should not ask that. I should think about the demons and how I would have faced them."
The realization hit him like a physical blow.
"No..." Damien's voice was barely a whisper. "You bastard..."
He turned to Ashborn, his eyes wide.
"The sins... they represent ME."
He began counting on his fingers.
"Lust. The infinite lustful side of mine that brought all those women around me." He touched his chest. "Greed. My desire for all that is, and all that was. I even wanted to rule over the gods themselves." Another finger. "Envy. My envy of you, Ashborn. Learning that you had been before me, and greater than I." Another. "Gluttony. The shadows. My desire to expand my collection. I wanted gods in there. The Ant King. Baran. I want all of them as shadows." Another. "Sloth. My wasteful self that ignores all the real work. I created a council specifically for them to do the work for me. Fixing the city. Helping the people."
He paused, his voice growing heavier.
"And Wrath. My anger at all that exists. The gods. The dragons. The humans who turned on the dragons. Anu. And even YOU, Ashborn!"
Ashborn remained still, his purple eyes unblinking. But something shifted in his expression...a flicker of recognition.
Damien's voice softened.
"And finally... Pride. The one I have not attained. The pride of being who I am." He looked down at his hands. "I am a human from a different world with more knowledge than the rest. And your powers... I was never proud of that because I thought I was not sincere."
He looked up, his eyes meeting Ashborn's.
"But I get it now. The lesson you want me to learn is that I should be proud of being me. I am the Shadow Monarch. Damien Ardent. And I am proud of being ME."
For the first time, Ashborn moved.
The Monarch of Shadows took a single step forward. His lips parted, and a voice....ancient and deep...emerged from his still form.
"Be better than I was."
He smiled.
"And take it all for yourself."
Ashborn's body dissolved into shadows. The darkness swirled around Damien, covering him from all sides. It entered him—through his skin, his eyes, his mouth. He felt the presence of the First Shadow Monarch merging with his own, not overwriting, but completing.
Damien closed his eyes.
He was complete.
....
Damien stood.
The hole in his chest, the wound that should have killed him, the wound that Baran had inflicted with such certainty....was gone. Shadows coiled around the torn flesh, knitting it back together, sealing the damage as if it had never been. They pulsed with a dark, living energy, threading through his body, repairing what had been broken.
He opened his eyes.
Baran sat on his throne once more, looking down at Damien from his elevated position. His smile was wide, genuine, almost welcoming.
"You have finally returned... Ashborn."
He rose from his throne, his voice echoing through the chamber.
"Slave of the Primordial. Destroyer of Worlds. The one known as the Shadow of Destruction." His eyes blazed with ancient fury. "I can finally achieve it. My revenge."
Damien simply smiled.
"I am sorry to say this..." His voice was calm, steady. "But I am not Ashborn."
He took a step forward.
"I am better."
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