Light
The black Rolls Royce sliced through the ash-choked streets of Eden. Light lounged in the back seat, sunglasses on despite the gloom.
"Damn," he muttered. "Sucks to live here."
Albert, hands steady on the wheel, replied without emotion. "It is the apocalypse, sir."
Light smirked. "for some. Not all. Remember that, Albert—the strong survive."
"Yes, sir."
Light leaned forward, peering through the tinted glass. "Remeber I'm the reason Perfect city is untouched".
Albert didn't look. "But for how long, sir?"
Light hesitated. "I can't say. Not yet. But as of today, it should be running. Not like this dump."
He leaned back again, voice dropping. "Hard to believe the Lord of Violence got killed. In combat. And by a man, of all people. I wonder who can kill the demon prince? Was it Thomas? Or the other gifted one I heard that took down Belial? If Thomas killed the prince of Violence. I hope the boy's still in town. I owe him another ass-whooping."
Albert slowed the car. "We're here, sir."
Light stepped out, boots crunching on broken glass. The demon prince body lay sprawled in the dirt—Lord of Violence, torn open. A gaping hole through his chest. Limbs gnawed, half-devoured.
"What a pity," Light said. "You died like a dog."
He held out his hand. "Albert. The bullhorn".
Albert passed it silently.
Light clicked it on, voice booming through the ruins. "Demons—come out. No need to hide. It's me. Light. Your savior."
A goblin-like creature crawled from the shadows, eyes wide. "It really is him!"
Then they came—dozens, grotesque and trembling.
"Why were you hiding?" Light asked.
One demon, voice shaking, said, "The Man… he's still out there."
Light narrowed his eyes. "Then where is he?"
The demons looked at each other. "We don't know."
Light scoffed. "Then you don't need to hide anymore."
A demon stepped forward. "No way. I'm going to Perfect City."
Others echoed it. "Perfect City. Perfect City."
Light tilted his head. "And join their army?"
"Yeah," the demon said.
Light moved fast—his hand pierced the demon's chest, ripping through bone and flesh. The body dropped.
"If you're not joining my army," Light said coldly, "don't go to Perfect City."
The rest bowed low. "Yes, sir. Light—can we join?"
He turned away. "No."
He climbed back into the car. "Albert. Let's leave."
As they drove off, Light stared out the window, voice low.
"Seems like everyone wants to go to Perfect City. So why not join the party? Might get… interesting."