The darkness consumed every corner of the small office.
Sniff... Sniff...
In the center, behind a workbench, a man held in his arms the body of a beautiful woman. Tears flowed down his face like a broken faucet.
"Aaaaaaaaargh!!!!" With a roar, a pale light expanded from the man's body. His eyes shone like a star at the end of its life. The pressure emanating from his body sent all the furniture flying in every direction.
Cracks spread, splitting the whole room, turning the old office into nothing more than a pile of rubble. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." the man murmured repeatedly; his choked voice came out in whispers.
The tears running down his pale face fell onto the serene face of the beautiful woman in his arms. Even in death, a small smile adorned her face; her lips, stained with blood dripping from the side, only increased her charm.
With gentle movements, the man wiped the small bloodstain with his fingers. He continued staring at her pale face, trying to imprint every detail deep into his soul.
At that moment, like a trigger finally pulled, a flood of memories hit the man. There were so many that his face twisted from the headache; for a brief moment, he almost dropped the woman's body, but his unshakable will did not allow it.
---
The memories came to my mind like an avalanche at the top of a mountain, but the pain in my chest was still much greater. These memories… a different world, my future and my past… I… am I reincarnated!?
My name was Caleb; my past life wasn't much different from other young otakus who dream of their own "isekai." In fact, I had a decent life, as far as possible.
Perhaps the only disadvantage was the lack of mobility in my legs, but that didn't stop me from enjoying life. Because of my circumstances, I dived into the world of anime, manga, manhwas, manhuas, and novels.
My favorite — and at the same time the one I hated the most — was the tale of the battle between gods and humans...
Shuumatsu no Valkyrie, also known as Record of Ragnarok.
The reason was simple: I am addicted to happy endings, especially when romance is involved. But that story... that damn story, one of the most tragic romances I ever witnessed.
What is more tragic than losing your beloved? Simple: being forced to kill her yourself.
Seeing that scene, when Beelzebub pierced Lilith's heart, ruined my day. Since then, I kept imagining: what if it were me? What would I do?
Unfortunately, my answers were delivered in the cruelest way possible. In my arms was the woman I once planned to save... The worst part of all: I truly fell hopelessly in love with her warm embrace...
---
Tears continued to flow from Caleb's already red eyes — or rather, Beelzebub's. Holding Lilith's body, various emotions passed through his troubled mind.
He had been in this new world for over a million years; every choice and path that led him to this moment still lived in his mind. From tender moments with his beloved to the losses of his friends.
The hatred toward the culprit boiled inside his chest, but now, with his memories recovered, he already knew who it was. But even so, what could he do?
"Satan..." he murmured, gritting his teeth to contain his fury. It was common knowledge among Shuumatsu fans that Beelzebub's true enemy was none other than Satan himself.
But the real difficulty was that the culprit was sealed inside his own body; to kill his enemy, he would have to pay the price... a heavy price: his own life.
He looked at his chest, now glowing with a soft light. An elegant tattoo of a rose adorned his muscular chest — though not exaggerated like in a certain anime...
Lilith's curse, he thought as he looked at the drawn rose. Still, why did my memories take so long to return...? Again, tears ran down his face. He truly felt frustrated by the cruel play fate had written.
"I am a failure as a reincarnator..." With a sigh, he hugged his beloved's body tightly, bringing his face closer. He sealed the now cold lips of his loved one. "Don't worry... I'll find a way to revive you."
Despite the tightness in his chest due to the return of his memories, he now felt a bit more confident about bringing Lilith back to life. And so began the journey of a Beelzebub armed with knowledge from countless worlds.
---
In a place where even light was devoured, leaving only the coldest and most perpetual darkness, a throne of bones stood out. Small skulls used as torches glowed in a greenish tone. Flames danced inside the cracks where once an eyeball existed.
Sitting on the throne, a being bathed in black mist remained still. Even without a face, its eyes, shimmering in deep crimson, revealed its current mood.
Anger…
"That bitch... how dare she, how dare she, how dare she... how dare she, how dare she, how dare she, how dare she... HoW DaRe ShE!" With each word, its voice grew more distorted; what once sounded neutral became a symphony of overlapping voices, like the whisper of hell itself.
"Not EvEn I hAvE TaStEd tHe LiPs oF mY BeElZeBuB!"
For ages I prevented any being from getting near him, for no one loves him more deeply than I do... How could they? I saw him being born; I am his mother, father, and creator... Its thoughts grew more chaotic. The air crackled as its mentality became even more distorted.
As if nothing had happened, silence returned to the place. With a gust of wind, all the torches went out, leaving only the glowing red eyes.
Step-Step-Step
In the silence, only footsteps could be heard as the creature, after rising from the throne, walked seemingly without direction. Now standing, it was possible to notice that the being was colossal — perhaps taller than a mountain.
Step-Step-Step
With each step, its imposing height decreased. From the size of a building, then a tree, then a house, and finally...
At the height of a person, the being began to take form.
"@#@#@##@#" Murmuring incomprehensible tongues, its shape slowly came to life.
Long hair, as dark as obsidian, fell over its shoulders, reaching down to its thighs. The skin was pale, so pale that one could see the veins underneath if looking closely. But that didn't lessen the dangerous charm she emitted.
The eyes... ah, those damned eyes — red as blood, glowing like a lighthouse guiding ships through a stormy night. The body, though not voluptuous, was well-shaped in all the right places. Luckily, due to the darkness, nothing was fully visible.
Those obsessive eyes stared toward an apparently empty direction. "Beel belongs only to me... Satan." A sinister smile curved the woman's lips.
And so... she continued walking....