"NOOO!!!"
Mirabella unleashed a devastating wave of raw spirit energy—a desperate Stun ability—that froze every monster around her. Ignoring the momentary lapse in the enemy line, she sprinted toward Bella.
The Demon King, a shadow of motion, was gone before she reached the spot.
Mirabella caught Bella's limp form before she hit the ground. She pressed a trembling hand to the horrifying wound, tears of impotent rage and grief streaming down her face.
"No. No, Bella... can you heal yourself? Please..."
"Huh? I… I didn't think you could cry, Mira," Bella coughed out a mouthful of blood, her smile weak.
"Don't speak! You'll be alright, I'll carry you—"
"No, cough…! Mirabella, promise me something important."
"Anything! What is it?" Mirabella begged, her tears soaking Bella's tattered armor.
"Don't ever shed another tear. Ever again. Not for me, Not for anyone. Can… Can you promise me this, my Knight?" Bella's eyes pleaded.
Mirabella choked back a sob, quickly wiping the wet tracks off her cheeks with her sleeve. "Yes. I promise. I will never cry again. Just… don't die."
"Thank you, for everything… I hope you left me some candies in our next life."
"Candies! Yes, you can have it all!"
Bella's smile faded. Her eyes lost their light, and she went instantly slack in Mirabella's arms.
"Bella? Bella?" Mirabella whispered the name, rocking the lifeless body.
"Why not make this easier on yourself, Knight?"
The Demon King had returned, the monsters dispersing at his command, forming a wide, silent circle around the pair.
Mirabella slowly laid Bella's body down, treating her friend with the tenderness of a mother. When she stood up, every trace of sorrow was gone. Her eyes, once pools of sadness, were now burning with pure, distilled killing intent, a terrifying, cold blue flame. Her body and face were smeared with blood—Bella's and the monsters'.
"I guess you really, really want to kill me now," Angra Mainyu challenged, his face impassive. "Come on then. Kill me and avenge her! Entertain me one last time."
Mirabella didn't answer with words. She channeled every ounce of spirit energy left in her poisoned body into her sword. With a crack that shattered the air, she launched herself at the Demon King—no technique, no footwork, only a blind, rage-driven thrust aimed at his neck.
"DIE!!!!"
BAM!!
Mirabella froze. The Demon King hadn't moved. Her sword, the legendary weapon that had sliced through mountains of flesh, was held effortlessly between his index finger and thumb.
"You genuinely thought this little trinket could scratch me?"
He applied force. The beautiful, glowing sword, shattered into a thousand useless fragments. Before Mirabella could react, his hand shot out like a serpent and clamped around her throat.
"You…!" Mirabella clawed weakly at his iron grip as he yanked her forward until their faces were inches apart.
"Even as a human, you are one of the prettiest things I have ever seen," he murmured, his gaze consuming her. He then committed the ultimate violation: he slowly ran his tongue across her cheek, savoring the taste of her blood and her tears.
"You bastard!" Mirabella spat, her disgust overcoming all fear. She gathered the last dregs of her breath and spat directly into his crimson face.
"I promised I will kill you!"
Angra Mainyu chuckled, a dry, heartless sound, and wiped the saliva away with the back of his hand. Then, he slowly turned Mirabella to face the circle of waiting monsters.
"Get rid of the body," he hissed to his legions.
"No! Please! No! I will do anything! Anything!" Mirabella screamed, her rage finally breaking into shattering horror. She watched, paralyzed, as the monsters descended upon Bella's body, tearing her into pieces and devouring her remains.
"NOOOOOO!!!!!! If there's a second life, a thousand rebirths—I will personally hunt you across existence and have your head! I swear it by the blood of my only friend!" Mirabella's scream was a promise whispered on the wind of oblivion.
"How cute," Angra Mainyu replied. "I will be waiting for you then. And remember the name, little Knight. I am known as Angra Mainyu."
With a final, sickening crack, he tightened his grip, snapping her neck. Her legs went instantly limp. He pulled her dead face close and gave her a long, cold kiss on the lips.
"Truly a beauty."
He tossed her body to the shrieking monsters, who immediately began their gruesome feast.
"Now," Angra Mainyu declared, brushing his hands clean. His crimson gaze fixed on the distant horizon, far beyond the smoking ruins of the abandoned city. "To the stronghold."
____
[New York City. 3025.]
BANG!
A young woman in her early twenties, with long, vibrant blue hair and eyes, jolted upright in bed. Her heart slammed against her ribs like a captive bird. She frantically scanned the familiar room—a small, modern apartment in a New York district. A tiny television flickered, broadcasting a cheerful, absurd food-eating competition.
"Good morning New York City, the date is January 15, 3025... I am Barbara, your host for today's Competition..."
"3025?" Her voice was hoarse. She grabbed the phone on the nightstand. The date confirmed the broadcast. "Was it… all a dream?"
She was wearing a soft blue nightgown. The room was simple: a dresser, a wardrobe, a small table, and a window overlooking the quiet morning street. It was a world of stability, sanity, and peace that she hadn't seen for what felt like centuries.
"It can't be a dream," she muttered, sliding out of bed. The raw memory of the crushing pain in her neck, the cold kiss, the stench of sulfur—it was too vivid.
She walked to the mirror. Her reflection was startlingly beautiful—the same long blue hair, the same wide blue eyes. But where the old Mirabella's eyes held the weary wisdom of a veteran, these eyes were wide, young, and filled with a fragile innocence. She felt her neck. Perfect, unbroken.
"Angra Mainyu..." The name was a venomous whisper, the last word she'd heard before the darkness.
{DING!!!}
A translucent blue screen materialized directly in front of her, causing her to leap back onto the bed in shock. She stared, her breathing ragged, as cold, digital text scrolled into view.
{GALAXY FALL STARTS IN: 04:59:45.}
{GET READY.}
"Galaxy Fall?!"
The shock finally gave way to cold, calculating focus. It was real. She hadn't dreamed it. She hadn't gone mad. She had been reborn, sent back in time to the very beginning.
The euphoria of survival was instantly crushed by the weight of her knowledge. "Five hours. Less than five hours until the first catastrophic waves—the simultaneous volcanic eruptions, the tornadoes, the quakes—that wiped out sixty percent of the human population."
She grabbed her phone, her fingers hovering over the keypad. Bella. "Bella is from Korea, I'm in New York… I don't have her contact now." She sighed, the disappointment heavy.
"Well, if she's alive, she'll enter the game. I'll find her inside Galaxy Fall and apologize for failing her."
She looked out the window at the peacefully strolling citizens. "Who would believe me? Three natural disasters and a monster invasion will happen simultaneously in five hours. Buy canned goods and find shelter... no, I should think of a way to enter Galaxy Fall."
Mirabella began to pace, the cold logic of the veteran replacing the panic of the young girl. "I have less time than I thought. I remember the monsters only appear one minute before the global disasters begin. I need to survive that sixty seconds, then access the game. Once inside Galaxy Fall, I'll be safe from the cataclysms and can start leveling up immediately."
Her eyes landed on her pristine school uniform, neatly folded on the desk.
"School… wait." She called out, a forgotten memory surfacing. "Cupcake!"
Meow.
A small, fluffy white cat ambled out of the open bathroom door, stretching luxuriously.
Mirabella rushed forward, scooping the cat into a fierce, protective hug. "Cupcake! I couldn't save you from the quake in my previous life! In this one, I won't fail you, my tiny furball!" She placed the cat down, resolve hardening her jaw.
"I don't have time for sentiment. I need to be prepared." She rushed to the bathroom to wash off the phantom grime of her death.
__
Thirty minutes later, she stood before the dresser, drying her damp hair. Cupcake perched atop the dresser, watching her with solemn, feline intensity.
Mirabella then stared at her school uniform—the pristine white blouse, the pleated skirt. "I remember the three of you. My 'friends.' Especially you, Ethan. I thought you were my partner."
She dropped her towel. The body that was revealed was magnificent: the generous curves, the fit musculature hidden beneath the soft skin.
When she was finished, her innocent-looking backpack was filled, not with books, but with practical clothes and a small, secure pouch for Cupcake. She carefully strapped a small, wickedly sharp hunting dagger to the inside of her skirt waistband, hidden beneath the hem.
"Galaxy Fall," she muttered, checking her wrist for the tell-tale sign. No Galaxy Bracelet yet.
"It's a game world we can enter to fight, level up, and gain rewards. You can take anything non-living in. But what about you, Cupcake? I need to know the rule for living creatures now, not later."
She knew the bracelet would appear exactly five hours from now.
With the bag slung over her shoulder, she stepped out, locking the apartment door with a quiet click.
"This is just the beginning," she whispered to the empty hallway. "The beginning of my rise. Angra Mainyu. Lamashtu. And whoever the third one is... I am coming for you all. This time, the entertainment will be all mine."
She walked toward the elevator, already planning her first move.