「 ✦ Rimuru Tempest ✦ 」
Really, hope was just another word for setting yourself up for devastation.
The steel felt cold as it punched through my chest.
Only the sensation. Like ice spreading through my veins, freezing everything it touched. The blade itself meant nothing. Physical pain had stopped mattering to me long ago.
I looked down at the sword protruding from my body, confusion flooding my mind faster than any wound ever could. The metal gleamed in the rain, disappearing into my flesh like it belonged there. Like it had always been there.
Why?
The question echoed in the hollow space where my thoughts should have been. I'd been happy. The storm had cleared. Iu was alive. Daisy was purring. Everything was going to be okay.
Everything was going to be okay.
This wasn't how betrayal was supposed to feel. In stories, in movies, there was always that moment of clarity—that instant where everything clicked into place and you understood exactly what was happening. But this was just an empty ringing in my ears as my mind struggled to process what my eyes were showing me.
I'd always thought I understood loss.
After all, I'd died—twice—quite literally. I'd felt the cold grip of death, experienced the terror of dissolution, the desperate scramble to maintain consciousness as everything I ever was threatened to slip away into nothing. I'd thought that gave me some kind of wisdom about mortality, about what it meant to lose things that mattered.
But I'd been wrong.
The realization hit me hard.
I was a stranger to losing loved ones.
A complete novice at the art of having something precious torn away from me. And God, it showed. Every instinct I had was screaming contradictory instructions.
Run, fight, hide, attack, scream, go silent.
My mind couldn't settle on a single response because this wasn't a problem I could solve with raw power or cleverness or cunning. This was just loss. Pure, undiluted, incomprehensible loss.
It turned out that losing someone you love—really, truly love—isn't something you can prepare for. It's not a skill you develop through practice. It's a wound that tears through everything you thought you knew about yourself, exposing parts of your soul you didn't even know existed.
And I had no defenses against it.
"Reality is often disappointing," Iu said, but her voice was wrong. Her eyes, which had been warm just seconds before, now looked at me like I was something to be pitied. "Were you happy? Hm? Were you?"
The words felt like ice shards being driven into my brain.
Were you happy?
Yes. God, yes, I had been happy. So fucking happy. For those brief, precious moments when I thought 'she's alive after all,' when I thought we'd made it through another nightmare together, I had been happier than I'd ever been in either one of my lives.
And that's exactly why it hurt so much.
I watched her hand move almost in slow motion as she reached for Daisy. My little baby, who had been through so much with me. Who had slept curled up against my chest on cold nights. Who had judged every person we met with those blue eyes of hers and somehow always been right about them.
Who trusted me to keep her safe.
No.
The word barely left my throat, but it carried all the desperation in my soul. I tried to move, tried to reach for them, but my body wouldn't respond. The shock had paralyzed me completely, leaving me helpless to do anything but watch.
The blade appeared in Iu's other hand like it had been waiting there all along.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl as she brought it down. I could see every detail—the way the steel caught the light, the confusion in Daisy's blue eyes, the cruel smile spreading across Iu's face.
And then the wet sound of metal piercing flesh.
Daisy's cry was cut short before it could fully form.
A tiny, broken sound that would haunt me for the rest of my existence.
Her white fur, which had always been so pristine, so perfect, bloomed red as the life drained out of her small body.
She looked at me as she died. Those beautiful blue eyes grew dim. And just like that, she was gone.
Something inside me shattered. Like glass being struck by a hammer, sending sharp fragments in every direction, cutting through every part of my being until nothing remained but jagged edges and empty space.
The rain kept falling, washing Daisy's blood across the stones in spreading pink streams. She looked so small. So fragile. So gone.
I had failed her.
I had failed the one creature in this world who had never asked anything of me except to be allowed to stay by my side. Who had offered unconditional companionship and asked for nothing in return but warmth and the occasional scratch behind her ears.
And I had let her die.
That's when he appeared—the man in the perfect white suit with glacial blue hair and crimson eyes. He materialized like he'd been there all along, waiting for this exact moment to reveal himself.
He was beautiful in the way that poisonous flowers were beautiful—stunning and deadly and fundamentally wrong. He looked like he'd stepped out of a fashion magazine, if fashion magazines catered to divine sociopaths. But the danger radiating from him was so intense it made the air itself feel as dense as water.
And what struck me most wasn't his power. It was his smile.
He was enjoying this.
"Reality is often disappointing," he said, echoing Iu's words. "Were you happy? Hm? Were you?"
The rage that had been building inside me since the moment Daisy died suddenly exploded outward. It burned through my veins, scorching everything in its path, demanding release. Demanding vengeance.
I wanted to kill him.
The desire was so strong it felt like a physical thing clawing at the inside of my chest. I wanted to tear him apart slowly, to make him suffer in ways that would redefine the very concept of agony. I wanted to show him exactly what happened when someone made the mistake of taking something precious away from me.
But I couldn't move.
Not because I was paralyzed anymore, but because I knew—with absolute certainty—that this being could destroy me. The gap between us was just that large. He was operating on a level I couldn't challenge just yet. And he knew it.
"Allow me to introduce myself," he continued with that same cheerful tone. "I'm Keith. Though I'm better known as the God of Mischief. I've been keeping a low profile lately, you understand."
Keith. The God of Mischief.
"Did you enjoy the show?" Keith asked, walking around me like I was some kind of exhibit. "You should have seen your face. The hope! The relief! It was beautiful, really. I almost felt bad about ruining it."
Almost.
The word echoed in my mind as I stared at Daisy's lifeless form. He almost felt bad. This entire nightmare—the bond I'd formed with Iu, the growing attachment, the brief moment of joy when I thought she'd survived—all of it had been planned torture.
Entertainment for a bored god.
And Daisy had died for it.
"Was she ever real?" I found my voice somehow, though it sounded hollow even to my own ears. "Was any of it real?"
Keith tilted his head, considering the question like it was some fascinating puzzle. "What do you think?"
The way he said it—that playful, mocking tone—was answer enough.
None of it had been real. Every moment of warmth or connection or growing affection. It had all been a performance designed for an audience of one. This guy created Iu—beautiful, frustrating, complicated Iu—just to make me care about her. Just so he could tear her away in the most devastating way possible.
Iu's body began to glow with red light, dispersing into particles that flowed into Keith's outstretched hand like he was absorbing her very existence.
"A clever little puppet, wasn't she?" he said, watching the light disappear into his palm. "I'm quite proud of that one. Took me weeks to get the personality just right."
I looked down at Daisy again. The rain had plastered her fur to her small body, making her look even tinier than she actually was. Blood still seeped from her wounds, mixing with the water and disappearing into the cracks between the stones.
She hadn't been part of the plan.
My Daisy had just been collateral damage.
That thought ignited something deep inside me. Something monstrous that had been dormant for so long I'd almost forgotten it existed.
"You're going to die for that."
The words came out as barely a whisper, but they carried more menace than any scream ever could. I could feel the part of me that had never been human stirring, awakening from whatever slumber it had been in.
Keith clapped his hands together in delight. "Oh, wonderful! I was hoping you'd say something like that. It's so much more fun when you fight back."
He leaned forward, those crimson eyes gleaming. "I'm looking forward to it. We are looking forward to it. Come for me as a demon lord, Rimuru Tempest. I'll be expecting you."
Then he was gone. Just like that. Leaving me alone with the rain and the blood and the promise that when we met again, only one of us would survive. And it wouldn't be him.
I knelt beside Daisy's body, gathering her small form in my hands. Her white fur was matted with blood and rain, but she was still warm. Still looked like she might open her eyes at any moment and fix me with that sassy stare I'd grown so accustomed to.
But she wouldn't. She never would again.
The others were saying something—Shizuku, the other heroes, even Hajime and his group. But their voices felt distant, so muffled, like they were speaking from the other side of thick glass. I couldn't make out the words, couldn't focus on their meaning.
All of my attention was consumed by the small, broken thing in my hands.
I opened a portal—not to anywhere specific, just away. Away from the blood and the ruins and the staring faces. Away from the questions I didn't want to answer and the sympathy I didn't deserve.
Away.
···—–—⚜—–—···
The northern mountains were exactly as cold and unforgiving as I remembered.
Wind howled through the peaks like the screams of the damned, carrying snow and ice that cut through the air. The blizzard had been raging for three days now, turning the world into a white void where visibility extended maybe ten feet in any direction.
I sat in the snow with my back against a boulder, completely still. The cold didn't affect me anymore—hadn't for a long time—but I could feel it trying to seep through my defenses anyway. Like it was offended that I wasn't suffering enough.
In front of me, encased in perfectly clear ice, was Daisy.
I'd spent hours getting it right. The sculpture had to be perfect—every individual hair and every tiny detail preserved exactly as it had been in life. She looked peaceful, curled up in her favorite sleeping position with her tail wrapped around her paws and her eyes closed.
Like she was just taking a nap and would wake up any moment to demand breakfast.
I'd love it if that happened. I couldn't ask for anything more.
The ice wouldn't melt. I'd made sure of that. Whatever happened to me, wherever this path led, she would remain exactly as she was.
Beautiful, untouched, and safe.
It was the least I could do for her.
The only thing I could do for her.
I tried to cry. God, how I tried. The tears should have come—should have been flowing like rivers down my face. I wanted to cry. Wanted to scream and rage and beat my fists against the uncaring stone until my knuckles were bloody and raw.
But nothing came. My eyes remained stubbornly dry. They never came anymore. I'd lost that capacity somewhere along the way.
Because I was a monster.
But right now, I would've been given anything to be human enough to mourn properly. Instead, I just sat there like a statue, as cold and lifeless as the ice surrounding Daisy's body.
I remembered the first time I'd seen her, back in that random forest where she'd been scrounging for prey. Just a tiny white kitten with fur matted by tiny dirt, those striking blue eyes fierce even as she was clearly starving.
She hadn't run from me. Hadn't hissed or cowered or tried to hide. She'd just approached me and gave herself to me, staring at me with those intelligent eyes, like she was making some kind of judgment about my character.
Apparently, I'd passed whatever test she'd been administering.
From that moment on, she'd been my constant companion. She'd just been there. A small, warm little thing that made even the darkest moments bearable. I thought about the dozens of small moments that had made her feel like more than just a pet.
Those eyes, growing dim as she died, would haunt me forever. The confusion and the trust in them that I'd somehow betrayed in the worst possible way.
I thought about Iu too, though those memories hurt in a different way.
Every moment of connection that I'd thought was real.
None of it had been real.
But it had felt real.
And that was almost worse somehow.
Because I'd experienced genuine affection for her. Whatever you called the feeling of wanting to protect someone, wanting to make them happy, wanting to be the person they turned to when the world got too heavy.
And she'd never existed.
The puppet had been perfect. So perfect that even now, knowing the truth, part of me still missed her. Still wanted to hear her voice again, even if it was just to argue about something pointless.
That's what Keith had taken from me. Not just Daisy's life, not just the illusion of Iu, but the very memory of caring about someone. Now every moment of happiness would felt corrupted.
How could I ever trust my own emotions again?
How could I ever let myself care about someone without wondering if they were real? If my feelings were genuine or just another manipulation waiting to unfold?
I couldn't.