A dark, ancient palace loomed in the burning distance. Towering spires rose from volcanic rock, their tips piercing a sky of swirling ash. Rivers of fire circled the infernal structure like a moat, and tortured screams echoed through the sulfur-thick air.
Hell.
Most humans assumed it was where you went when you died.
They weren't wrong.Just... not completely right.
As the view drew closer to the palace, a lone figure came into focus, standing on the highest balcony. He had the shape of a teenager, and one glowing red eye pierced through the firelit haze.
"Name's Dreyl," the voice said coolly. "In case you're wondering."
A flash of crimson revealed him. Sixteen years old. Black hair with a streak of blood-red curling down one side. One eye glowed faintly red; the other was pitch black. He wore a battered black hoodie with dice-shaped drawstrings, tattered jeans, and ripped sneakers. Chains wrapped around each wrist—one silver, the other shaped like a crescent moon. His smirk radiated pure defiance.
"I'm the son of the present Devil."
He leaned against the railing, gazing down into the abyss of flames below.
"Crazy, huh?"
He chuckled to himself, voice echoing off the hellish stone.
"Here's something you didn't know: there's more than one Devil. When one dies—or quits—the next in line takes the throne. Each one worse than the last."
Images flickered across his mind—demon kings from ancient times, each more grotesque and monstrous than the one before. Rulers of agony, architects of torment. Each one had ruled Hell differently, but they all shared one truth.
"They've got one thing in common: they're all evil."
The fire roared louder. The screams swelled until they became a chorus of anguish.
"My father's the strongest of them all," Dreyl continued, a touch of something heavier beneath his voice. "Which makes me..."
A sudden snap cut through the inferno.
The world shattered.
And the fire vanished.
Morning sunlight poured over a crowded city street.
Dreyl now walked among a swarm of students in matching uniforms. His wrists were covered, the chains hidden beneath his sleeves. Gone was the hoodie—now he wore a clean, navy blazer and a red-and-white striped tie. But the smirk? That was still very much present.
"Yep. You guessed it," Dreyl thought, eyes scanning the faces of the other students. "I live in the human world now."
He tugged at his tie in annoyance.
"And I go to boring ol' school."
The only reason he even bothered showing up was girls. That was it. Otherwise, he'd stay holed up in his apartment watching reruns of shows he didn't even like.
A loud bell rang in the distance.
"Shoot. There goes the bell."
He jogged lazily through the gates of the school building.
Classroom 3-B was already full when he stepped inside. The teacher stood at the front, arms crossed and brow furrowed.
"Sugi Sakashita! What time do you call this?"
The class chuckled as Dreyl strolled in without a care in the world.
"Yeah... that's my fake name," he thought with a sigh. "Had to pick something normal. 'Dreyl' would raise too many eyebrows."
He offered a casual shrug. "I call it... 9:33 AM, sir. What about you?"
The teacher's face darkened.
"Don't take that tone with me! I hope you all brought your P.E. kits—because we're starting with physical education."
"What?"
Dreyl slumped into his seat beside a blonde-haired girl and dropped his head onto the desk with a loud bang.
"Damn it. Of all the days to forget P.E. No kit. No clue. No luck."
His fingers slid into his pocket. Slowly, he pulled out a glowing red die and placed it on the desk.
"This'll do the trick," he muttered with a grin. "How's my luck today?"
He flicked the die across the desk.
It landed on 2.
Take control of another's body.
"Alright," he said, eyes gleaming.
He leaned back in his chair.
"I forgot to mention... This little guy's called Fatebreaker. It can bend fate—twist reality—just by rolling. But there's a catch."
He looked at the number again.
"Ignore its command... and I suffer."
He slipped into the hallway moments later, gliding past students with casual ease. His crimson eye scanned the crowd until it landed on a familiar face—the blonde-haired girl from class, chatting by her locker.
"There we go."
Dreyl moved toward her, his hands twitching slightly as the chains beneath his sleeves tightened.
"Hail the lord... hail the prince... bail the soul," he whispered.
Clink.
The girl's soul shimmered free from her chest—blue and wispy—and hovered in the air.
Dreyl's body blurred and vanished like a glitch in space.
Then he reappeared... as Yumi.
"Yumi?! Are you okay?" one of the girl's friends gasped.
"She's moving again!"
Yumi—now Dreyl—rolled her eyes.
"Yes yes yes. I'm fine. Now outta my way!"
She shoved past them and bolted down the hallway.
Outside, on the city streets, Yumi sprinted like her life depended on it—though her form was less than ideal.
"Damn... this body's slower than mine," Dreyl thought from within. "And I can feel it. The timer's already running."
A glowing burn mark pulsed on her wrist like a warning signal.
She stumbled into a busy street corner, almost colliding with a vendor.
"Watch it!" the man shouted.
"Girl problems!" she called back, waving an arm.
"Next time I roll 'take control'..." she muttered between gasps, "I'm picking someone with better lungs."
A few blocks later, she reached a graffiti-covered building in a back alley. Rusted pipes and cracked brick surrounded it, but to her—it was home.
"There it is. My lovely dump of a lair."
She whispered at the front door's seal.
"Kael voh ta'shel."
The lock clicked and opened with a groan.
Inside was a dark, cluttered room lined with old demonology books. Chains hummed faintly, and a sealed gate glowed crimson in the corner. She dove under the bed, reached in, and pulled out a black duffel bag.
"Got it!"
Then—
A warning message blazed across her vision.
00:00:08...
"Not good—"
Back in Classroom 3-B, Dreyl's real body sat motionless.
His eyes suddenly flew open.
Whoosh.
His soul slammed back into him just as the final second ticked down.
He blinked. No one noticed.
Except one.
Across the room, Yumi stared at her trembling hand. Her eyes slowly drifted toward Dreyl... and locked onto him.
Her pupils widened.
"What... are you?" she whispered.
That night, Dreyl returned to his apartment.
He tossed his bag onto the floor and peeled off the blazer. On his wrist, a faint red scar glowed like a brand.
"Even when you win... you bleed."
He glanced at the desk.
There sat the Fatebreaker die.
Beside it was a sealed envelope.
He tore it open.
You returned the body...But changed the soul.
ROLL AGAIN.
His head snapped up.
The die began to glow on its own... and rolled across the desk.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
It landed on 5.
Make someone fall in love with you.(Or be forgotten forever.)
Dreyl groaned.
"Oh, come on."
"What kind of high school curse is this?"
To be continued...