The city of London in 2058 was alive with neon lights, but in one forgotten alley, all was quiet. Homeless sat with his back against a wall, his body tired yet glowing faintly with fire. The night wind carried the smell of smoke from the square he had destroyed hours ago. His eyes were heavy, but inside him, a voice stirred.It was not a human voice. It was deep, rough, old—like stone grinding against stone.
Demon (once called Malakar): "Your anger is strong, stronger than most men could ever carry. But storms like yours are born from pain. Tell me, mortal, what carved this fire into your heart?"
Homeless's fists tightened. His voice came slowly, broken by memories that still hurt like fresh wounds.
Homeless: "It began on a train… the day everything ended. I was just a boy, sitting between my parents. We were tired but happy. Then, soldiers came in. Not strangers. Not enemies. Our own government's men. But they wore masks, dressed like terrorists. They wanted to blame another country, to start their own war. And so, they opened fire."
His voice shook, but he continued.
Homeless: "Bullets tore through the carriage. People screamed. Smoke filled the air. I remember the sound of glass shattering, of children crying. And then… I looked at my parents. They were on the ground. Blood everywhere. Their eyes were still open, but they were gone. I sat there, frozen, while the train turned into a grave."
The demon's low growl filled his chest.
Malakar: "And so the seed of hate was planted. But your pain did not end there, did it?"
Homeless lowered his head.
Homeless: "No. After the attack, they sent me to an orphanage. I thought it would be safe, but it was worse. They did not care for us. They used us. They made us beg in the streets every day. I was just a child, but I was treated like dirt. I remember asking the owner one night, 'Why? Why are you doing this to us?' He only laughed. Then he picked up a hammer. He beat me with it again and again until I thought I would die. Every bone screamed. My body was covered in blood. Finally, they threw me into a hospital bed like trash."
His eyes burned now, glowing faintly red as the fire inside him rose.
Homeless: "But I did not stay. That same night, I escaped. My body was broken, but I crawled through the streets until I disappeared into the city. From that moment, I swore—I would never beg again. I would never bow. I would never trust anyone."
The demon's voice was dark, but there was understanding in it.
Malakar: "You suffered. Betrayed, beaten, abandoned. I know that feeling well. Long ago, I was not a whisper inside a broken man. I was Malakar, the Devourer. Kings called on me to win their wars. Priests sang my name and chained me with spells, feeding me sacrifices. I was their power, their weapon, their god. But when I grew too strong, when they feared I would no longer serve, they turned. They betrayed me. They buried me in darkness, sealing me away for centuries. Forgotten. Hated. Denied."
Homeless looked up, his breathing heavy.
Homeless: "So you were cast aside. Just like me. Used, then thrown away. We are the same."
Malakar's laugh rolled like thunder, shaking the walls of the alley.
Malakar: "Yes. You, the boy who lost his parents, beaten and left to rot. And I, the god of fire and shadow, betrayed and buried. Alone, we were nothing. But together…"
Shadows curled tighter around Homeless, and flames rose from his hands. His eyes glowed like burning coals.
Malakar: "…together, we are vengeance. We are fear. We are the storm that will make the world remember."
Homeless stood, his body trembling with both anger and power. For the first time, he did not feel weak. He did not feel alone. The demon was inside him now, not as a chain, but as a partner bound by the same pain.And in that ruined alley, man and demon became one—not just through power, but through their pasts, through the wounds that the world had given them. What was once pain was now a weapon. What was once sorrow was now fire.The night of London carried a new truth: Homeless was no longer just a man. He was the vessel of Malakar, the forgotten god. And together, they would burn the world that had cast them aside.