Knox released the blinding crimson light from his hands. The beam shot forward with devastating force, striking the shadowy demon Sin directly in the chest. The demon looked down, his expression unreadable behind his shifting features. A hole had appeared in his armor—it hadn't pierced any vital organs, but the damage was undeniable. A deep cavity marred the dark surface, the dent spreading outward like a wound that refused to close.
Sin's response came swiftly. He generated multiple shadow blades, each one humming with malevolent energy, and thrust them forward toward Knox. But Knox had anticipated this. Drawing on his reserves of demon energy, he created matching blades that sang through the air, cutting through Sin's attack with precision born of desperation. Each clash sent sparks of light and shadow cascading across the room, illuminating Knox's determined face in flashes of crimson and darkness.
Knox's heart pounded in his chest as he channeled more power. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He soon manifested a gigantic two-handed axe, its blade crackling with raw demon energy. The weapon felt solid in his grip, an extension of his will to survive. He ran forward, muscles burning with exertion, and swung the axe down with all his strength, planning to cleave Sin in half.
But Sin moved with inhuman speed. He conjured a clone in an instant and teleported behind Knox through a shadow portal that rippled like oil on water. The clone was cut cleanly in half, its severed halves falling to the ground before dissolving into shadowy smoke. The real Sin now stood at Knox's back, his presence a cold weight in the air.
Knox whirled around, abandoning the axe. The demon energy weapon dissipated, its particles flowing back into Knox's body, energizing him further. He created a gigantic beam of energy from his hands, the red light intensifying as it grew in size and power. Knox poured everything he had into this attack—every ounce of rage, fear, and determination. He was planning to destroy Sin completely, to eradicate him, to reduce him to ash and memory.
But that didn't happen.
Sin reached out and touched the beam before Knox could even launch it. Shadows began to grow at Sin's fingertips, dark tendrils that expanded and spread like a cancer. They covered half of the crimson energy, then began creeping toward the other half. Knox watched in horror as the beam gradually shifted toward Sin's hands, corruption spreading through his own power like poison through veins. The demon smiled—that terrible, knowing smile—as he grabbed the corrupted energy and hurled the now-shadowy beam back at Knox.
Knox's mind raced. He couldn't dodge his own corrupted attack. It was too large, too fast, and he was too slow. Panic clawed at his throat, constricting his breathing. He wasn't going to make it. He had to dodge—if he didn't, his death would be certain. But his body wouldn't respond quickly enough. Time seemed to slow as the dark beam hurtled toward him.
The beam struck him with the force of a collapsing star.
The shadowy energy washed over Knox completely, absorbing him into its dark embrace. His scream was cut short as the darkness consumed him. When the beam finally dissipated, Knox was gone. The giant orb of shadow had consumed him entirely. Sin stood alone in the room for a moment, surveying his work with cold satisfaction, then sank into the shadows himself, disappearing without a trace. Everything fell silent.
Back in the mindscape—that dark and dismal void where consciousness flickered like a dying flame—Sin looked around, disoriented. He had been planning to knock himself out, then wake again to absorb all the memories, to understand what had happened. But suddenly, something appeared in the darkness before him.
A figure materialized, clad in shadowy armor. Dark eyes gleamed with malice. A giant smile split its face—too wide, too knowing.
It was him.
The demon. The Shadow Demon who wore his skin and face, who had stolen his identity and twisted it into something monstrous. Sin's blood ran cold as he stared at his own reflection made nightmare. His pulse quickened, and he instinctively took a step back.
It's back, he thought, staring at himself. But for some reason, the Shadow Demon Sin wasn't moving and wasn't attacking him. This was strange. When he had first entered the mindscape, as soon as he arrived, the demon had attacked. But now it just stood there, motionless, watching.
Then Sin noticed the hole in its shadowy armor. A dent marred the surface. Did it fight something? Maybe that kid who was fighting it earlier? But he had no recollection other than the demon being released, fighting Dice, and that was it. That was all that happened that he remembered, at least. Everything after that was nothing—just darkness in his memory, a void where time should have been.
If he knocked himself out and woke up again, the memories would absorb into his brain—at least the new ones—and he would soon see the full picture. But if he knocked himself out, what if he didn't wake up? The thought sent a chill through him. He wasn't planning to even consider doing that. The risk was too great.
Suddenly, the Shadow Demon Sin started to fade. Its smile became translucent. Its entire body actually became translucent. The armor disappeared, and the demon, a few moments later, was gone from his mindscape. Sin exhaled slowly, relief washing over him. He didn't know if it would ever return, but he hoped that it didn't. He wanted full control over his body. He didn't want something else doing things for him. Even though the demon had saved him multiple times from situations where he would have died, he still didn't want it to come back. The price of that protection felt too high.
His body also began to disappear. The sensation was odd—like he became numb. His legs became numb, then his thighs, arms, torso, chest. At the end, his head became numb as well. The world faded to black.
He opened his eyes.
He was back in Kylie's room. He didn't know what Kylie's room looked like. He didn't even know where he was. All he saw was a bed, a bunch of bookshelves lined with demon skill books, and a pile of melted red metal in the corner. He looked around the unfamiliar place, trying to orient himself. He didn't quite know where he was. The last he remembered—well, besides the memories from the demon—the last memory that he actually had was him in the field getting beaten up by the Hunter. After he got knocked out by the Hunter, he didn't know what had happened afterward.
The memories that came back to him from when the demon had control over his body were fragmented, disjointed. These memories—the memories that he had gotten when he woke up and reappeared back in the mindscape after being consumed by it—he didn't even know where he was when he wasn't in the mindscape. When the demon had consumed him in the mindscape with its shadow, had he died? He didn't know what happened, but he had respawned, rematerialized around an hour later. So he knew he couldn't die in that world—not that realm that he was in. He would always rematerialize, no matter what happened.
But was there a way to go back into the mindscape just in case things didn't go quite right? If he went back into the mindscape, could his powers, if they were weakened today, regain their strength? Could he regain energy while he was in the mindscape? He would have to test that later. But right now, he wanted to find out where exactly he was.
In the medical facility, Dice soon woke up. The doctors didn't know what to do. They had thought that he would die from his injuries. But now, when he had opened his eyes, his eyes were darkened—not purple and shadowy like what he had seen from the demon Sin, but they were pitch black, as dark as the night itself.
He looked in a mirror that was positioned across from his bed. He sat up slowly, wincing slightly, and moved his head forward to look at the mirror fully. He saw his eyes. When he saw his eyes, he recoiled in shock, nearly falling off the medical bed. But he kept his balance, gripping the edge of the mattress. He looked at it again, looked away, looked at it again, then looked away again. He did it again and again. He couldn't fathom what had happened.
"This can't be," he whispered. "No, no. Someone just painted my eyes while I was unconscious. If that happened, wouldn't my eyes be burning? Well, maybe it's just a weird lighting angle from the mirror."
He kept trying to rationalize it. He kept trying to rationalize what in the world had happened. His eyes were black—fully black, like voids. His pupils, everything—black.
He stood up. For some reason, he didn't feel any pain when he stood up from the medical bed. He didn't feel any agony from the injuries that the Shadow Demon Sin had inflicted on him. He felt fine. Stronger, actually. He felt more fluid, more grounded. What in the world had happened? The only change that he knew of physically was that instead of his normal eyes, they were now black. But there were other changes as well. He was more fluid, more grounded. His mind was even clearer than before.
Then he wondered: if Father saw his newly darkened eyes, if he learned the demon had been released, if he'd heard the announcement that had echoed through every realm—would he turn on his own son? The questions spiraled through his mind, each more terrifying than the last. Would Father's hand be the one to end him? Would the family cast him out, strip him of his name, erase him from their bloodline? Fear seized his chest like iron claws.
A shadow moved in the doorway.
His father stood there, eyes gleaming in the darkness, watching him with an expression he'd never seen before.