On the edge of the mortal world, a place no human being dared to even think of, stood the Hall of becoming - a vast cathedral carved from obsidian and shadow. It was like a place from a horror movie, with pointed black towers, tangible dark halls, smell of rotten flesh and blood that screamed of death, stolen lives and broken dreams, yet to the creatures that reside in this realm, it was a place as beautiful as the sunrise at the beach.
On that eerie night, hundreds of devils gathered, each wearing a dark glamour that shone like stars over their true forms. Some looked human, others wore masks, horns, scales, tails and wings. Some had claws, some had paws and hooves, some had teeth so pointed and sharper than butcher knives. Some were blue. Some were even - surprisingly - pink. All had one purpose to be there, to witness and celebrate their own ascend.
At the center of these devil's stood Dinah, her hair pale as ash, her eyes a slow-burning crimson. Around her wrists were ghost marks — remnants of the souls she had harvested. Tonight, the count was complete. One thousand human lives. She had fulfilled the purpose of her creation and as a reward, a human she would become tonight. In their terms: she would finally be freed.
A figure stepped out of the mist. His aura was cold but elegant, his face carved with arrogance too beautiful to be mortal. Dinah knew who he was before she turned to look. She would know him anywhere. Lucen, one of the youngest devils in the Master's circle. He was still one soul short of his redemption, but his name already carried weight — the Devil of Mercy, they called him, because he chose victims who no longer wished to live. Dinah had always admired him in a way only she truly knew. She was more than a fellow devil, more than a friend, more than a brother. Even now, as he felt him moving closer, her heart raced in a thousands ways she couldn't name.
Dinah turned to look at him. A slow, feline smile touched her lips. "You came," she said.
Lucen tilted his head. "I wouldn't miss your transformation, sister."
She was the only one he called sister and that always made her glow with pride.
"You're still one short," she teased. "How poetic that your last soul will decide if you live among men or crawl as a beast forever."
Lucen's smirk faltered. He knew the rule — fail the count, and the body collapses into its original chaos. Some devils became serpents, some smoke, some oak trees or baobabs, some the wind or dust, others creatures without memory or reason. The Master's curse was simple: Only those who choose to fulfill their purpose over desire may walk as human
"Don't remind me," he said softly. "I'm closer than most ever get."
It was true. He had already sacrificed nine hundred and ninety-nine humans. Just one more human to go.
A gong of bone struck, silencing the hall.
From the shadows, the Master appeared — an immortal being draped in torn robes whole small holes were as many and shone like stars in a moonless night. No one knew exactly where he came from, but even the oldest monster remembered him. He was neither young nor old. His voice vibrated through the hall, neither kind nor cruel.
"Dinah," he said, "you have harvested your thousand lives. You have honored the pact. Step forward."
Dinah did, trembling. The Master extended a hand, touching her brow with a faint light. When he withdrew, her skin glowed faintly — mortal warmth, not infernal fire. A hush swept the crowd.
"Welcome to humanity," the Master said.
The other devils bowed, whispering envy and awe.
Lucen smiled faintly as Dinah turned to him, tears shining in her eyes. "I feel warm," she whispered. "So warm."
She was happy.
He almost envied her.
The Master's gaze swept across the hall. "The following names are close to their end," he said, lifting an ancient scroll. "Those who stand on the edge of redemption, prepare yourselves."
The hall darkened. Names echoed like tolling bells — some cheered, others hung their heads in shame, some looked nervous, for as they neared the end, so did their deadlines.
The master paused.
"Lucen," the Master then called.
Lucen straightened.
"You have shown restraint," the Master said. "One soul remains between you and freedom. You have one hundred and fifty days left."
Lucen needed. One hundred and fifty days are more than enough to find a soul.
The master seemed to be reading his thoughts, he added "Remember — hesitation is the seed of ruin. Fail, and your form will dissolve into the wilderness of the cursed."
"I understand," Lucen said, his voice steady.
The Master's burning eyes softened slightly. "Then go. The world above is heavy with sorrow tonight."
The ground beneath Lucen's feet flared in a ring of runes. The air hummed with low frequency —his soul pulse awakening. He felt it vibrate against his skin, a living demonic gadget worn over his heart. Every devil carried one — a supernatural link connecting the devil whose will to live is falling. When a human's will to live falls, the pulse would vibrate, whispering the name and location of the one ready to die.
Beside him, his five companions gathered.
Two were devils turned to humans many moons ago — Eli and Grace, still loyal to their origins, invited by Dinah to witness her ascending. The others — Mira, Thane, and Kaelith — were young demons like Lucen, still halfway between darkness and desire.
Grace offered a confident smile. "You'll get your last soul tonight, right?"
Lucen's eyes gleamed. "That's the plan."
Eli chuckled. "Don't come back too human. We still need someone to keep the beasts in line."
Dinah approached and took his hand, trembling at the contact. "Don't fail," she whispered. "You've come too far to turn beast now."
He studied her new brown human eyes — how they glimmered with fragile emotion. "What does it feel like?" he asked.
She smiled. "Like falling in love with the world."
Because I have already fallen in love with you, she added silently.
Then, she leaned closer. "Lucen… the Soul Pulse burns fastest in those ready to die. Take them. Give them peace before someone else does."
Lucen nodded. "I will."
The circle flared brighter. The Master raised his hand. "Go, my child. Claim your last soul."
Lucen bowed and stepped into the light. His body dissolved into black flame, his form shifting into mist as he rose through the cracks of the mortal world.
He felt it — the vibration, the pull, the tug, the whisper of despair. His Soul Pulse trembled and whispered a name against his skin.
"Mona."
Lucen smiled, excitement curving his lips. "So soon?"
That name was his last soul. His humanity. His freedom. The weight of his one thousand years life of hardwork and restraint would finally payoff and be over.
He opened his wings of smoke and fire and followed the call through the city lights below.
But as the pulse guided him closer, something strange happened. The name whispered again, softer this time — not calling for death, but calling him.
"Lucen."
His smile froze. Almost dropped to the city of humans below him.
No mortal could speak a devil's true name through the Pulse.
It was ultimate impossible - until now.
Was he hallucinating?
The night wind thickened with unease. He resumed flying, slower, more cautious, listening closely. Maybe he was mistaken.
But he was not. Somewhere in the city, a girl wept into her drink, whispering the same name he'd heard in the dark.
Lucen's pulse burned red-hot. His heart, that he never knew he had, skipped a beat.
He whispered to the night, "You shouldn't know me."
And with that, he dove through the storm toward the voice that dared to call a devil by name.