The sky burned crimson.
Lightning tore through the heavens as the battlefield fell into silence. Corpses lay scattered across the ground—knights, mages, warriors… all reduced to lifeless bodies.
At the center stood a single figure.
Zeref.
Blood dripped from his wounds, staining the earth beneath him. His breathing was slow… controlled… as if pain no longer mattered.
In front of him stood a girl, glowing with divine light.
Reina.
Her silver hair danced in the wind, her staff radiating holy energy. Her eyes, filled with determination… yet something deeper, something uncertain.
A voice echoed in her mind—
"The Demon Lord must be killed… or the world will fall."
Zeref let out a faint, almost amused breath.
"So… this is how it ends?"
His voice was calm. Too calm for someone standing at death's door.
Reina tightened her grip on her staff.
"You are the enemy of this world."
Her voice didn't shake.
But her heart did.
For a moment… just a moment… their eyes met.
And something felt… wrong.
But destiny left no room for doubt.
She raised her staff.
Light gathered—blinding, overwhelming, absolute.
And then—
Everything turned white.
Darkness.
Silence.
Nothingness.
A sudden honk.
A flash of headlights.
A body thrown into the air.
Zeref's eyes snapped open.
He gasped for air—
—but instead of pain, there was only cold.
Endless darkness surrounded him.
"…Where am I?"
His voice echoed into nothing.
No answer came.
Then—
A whisper.
"You have returned."
Light flooded his vision.
Zeref's eyes slowly adjusted…
And what he saw made him freeze.
A massive throne room.
Black pillars. Dark flames. Shadows crawling across the walls like living things.
And below him—
People.
Dozens of them.
Kneeling.
Trembling.
"Welcome back… Lord Zeref."
His heart stopped for a second.
"…Lord?"
His voice was quieter now. Sharper.
He slowly stood up from the throne.
Every movement felt… different. Lighter. Stronger.
He walked forward.
A mirror stood at the end of the hall.
Step by step…
Until he stood in front of it.
And saw—
Himself.
But not the same.
His eyes were darker. Colder. Inhuman.
A faint black aura flickered around his body.
Memories—foreign, violent, overwhelming—flooded his mind.
The Demon Lord.
The enemy of the world.
The one destined to die.
"…I see."
No panic.
No fear.
Only understanding.
"…I became the villain."
Silence filled the room.
Then—
A slow, cold smile formed on his lips.
"If fate wants me dead…"
Dark energy surged around him, shaking the air.
"…then I'll break fate itself."
His eyes glowed with something far more dangerous than anger.
Determination.
"I will survive."
No matter the cost.