As the silence fell upon the throne room, the weight of Asmolgan's words hung in the air. His declaration had left everyone reeling, especially Anastasia, Zoe, and Kira. They stood still, shocked by his rejection of everything they had hoped for. But there was something deeper beneath the surface of this scene—a connection that neither Anastasia nor the others fully understood.
Just as Asmolgan turned to vanish into the shadows, a soft voice echoed from the darkness, cutting through the tension.
"Dust... no, David, it's me, Dee."
Everyone froze. The name—David—struck like a thunderclap in the stillness of the throne room. Asmolgan's back stiffened, his body tense. The room seemed to grow colder, and for a moment, everything held its breath. The voice that called out to him was unmistakable. It wasn't just any voice. It was familiar. It was his sister's voice—Dee, the one he had long believed to be lost forever.
Asmolgan's expression, usually cold and unreadable, flickered with something unspoken. He slowly turned around, his gaze scanning the room, as if searching for the source of the voice. And then he saw her—stepping out of the shadows near Princess Anastasia, a figure barely visible but unmistakably real.
DeeDee.
Her eyes were filled with an emotion he had not seen in years—grief, longing, and something more. She wasn't the playful, carefree girl he had once known. There was a deep, unspoken sorrow in her eyes, as though the weight of the world had crushed the essence of who she once was. Yet there was something else—something that had always been between them. A bond that even the darkness of the demon lord could not sever.
"Dee..." Asmolgan's voice cracked, the first sign of vulnerability he had shown in what felt like an eternity. "Is it really you?"
DeeDee didn't answer immediately. She took a cautious step forward, her eyes locked on his. "It's me, Dust. I know everything has changed, but I've never stopped looking for you. I've never stopped believing you could come back to who you were."
His chest tightened, a pain he hadn't felt in years twisting inside him. Dust—no, David—took a step back, his expression a mixture of disbelief and confusion. The name that had once been his own felt foreign now, just like the person he had become. The past was a distant memory, buried under layers of hatred and rage. But now, standing before him was the one person he had once cared for, the one connection he had left.
"But I... I'm not the same person anymore," he muttered, his voice low and heavy with regret. "I don't even know who I am anymore. The things I've done... I can't undo them, Dee. I can't go back."
DeeDee's gaze softened. She took another step forward, her hands trembling slightly as she reached out to him. "You're still my brother, Dust. You're still David to me. I've searched for you, fought for you—because I know deep down you're still in there. Please, come back to me."
Asmolgan flinched, but instead of retreating, he allowed her words to sink in. The cold, indifferent mask he had worn for so long cracked, just a little. For the first time, he saw her—not as a reminder of his past, but as someone who was offering him a chance for redemption.
"I..." His voice wavered, and for a brief moment, his eyes seemed to reflect the humanity he had lost. "I don't know if I can do that, Dee. I've done things... unforgivable things. How can you still care about me after everything?"
DeeDee's eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she spoke, her voice firm and steady. "Because you're my brother. I don't care what's happened or what you've become. I care about you—David. We're family. And I won't give up on you."
Her words hung in the air, thick with emotion. Asmolgan stood frozen, his thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and guilt. He had pushed everyone away, convinced himself that his transformation into the Demon Lord had severed all ties to his old life. But in this moment, with DeeDee standing before him, a sliver of doubt crept into his heart. Could he truly turn back from this darkness? Could he find his way back to the person he once was?
For a long moment, there was silence. Then, with a deep breath, Asmolgan finally spoke, his voice quieter now, as though admitting something he had long denied.
"Dee... I don't know if I can return. But for you... maybe... maybe I'll try."
DeeDee nodded, tears streaming down her face as she took another step closer. She reached out and touched his arm gently, her hand trembling slightly but filled with hope. "That's all I need, Dust. That's all I've ever wanted."
Asmolgan's gaze lingered on her, and for the first time in years, he felt a flicker of something real—something human—stir inside him. The darkness that had consumed him, the power he had clung to, seemed a little less overwhelming in that moment. He wasn't sure what the future held, or whether he could truly change, but for DeeDee, he would try.
"Let's go home, Dust," DeeDee whispered, her voice full of determination and love.
And as they stood there, in the heart of the ruined throne room, the bond between them—stronger than any magic, stronger than any darkness—began to reignite. It was a bond that no demon lord could break.
As Asmolgan's mind slowly began to clear, his thoughts became a chaotic storm of memories and emotions. He stood there, the weight of his actions crashing down on him. The dark haze that had consumed him began to lift, and his gaze flicked toward Zoe, who stood just a few feet away. He couldn't believe his eyes—*she's alive?* The sharp pang of guilt stabbed through him. She was supposed to be dead. He had seen her fall in the forest, her sacrifice echoing in his mind.
But then, something began to shift. His memories—broken and fractured as they were—started to piece together. The cold, numb darkness of his demon side faded, and he saw her again, this time clearly. **Zoe.**
He looked at her, his mind working to process the impossible. *Zoe? Alive? But how?* It didn't make sense. She had given her life to save him from Simon in the forest. She had leapt into the chaos, shielding him from a fatal blow. He felt her warmth leave him as she fell, felt the agonizing weight of her death... or so he had believed. But now, standing before him, she was breathing, her eyes full of life.
"Zoe," he murmured, his voice hoarse, shaking with disbelief. His hands trembled, reaching out, as if to touch her and confirm that she was real. "How... how are you here? You... you died... in the forest..."
Zoe looked at him, her eyes filled with both confusion and sadness. She could see the torment in his face, the anguish that had driven him to darkness, but she didn't know how to help him. How could she explain the impossible? How could she make him see that she had never died, that she had been saved in the nick of time?
"I... I'm here, Dust," she said quietly, her voice wavering. "I never died. You... you saved me. It wasn't my time. I was... brought back, somehow. I couldn't leave you like that."
Her words hit him like a storm. His head swirled as he tried to make sense of it all. His mind flashed back to the earlier moments when his thoughts were clouded by rage and confusion. He remembered how Simon had manipulated him, using his grief and rage as tools to bend him to his will. But now... now there was a crack in the wall Simon had built around him. And it was Zoe, standing there, alive, who was the key to shattering it.
But there was something else—another flicker of recognition that cut through the haze. Another face, another memory. **Aliss.** The name hit him like a sudden jolt of electricity. He had known her, long before everything had fallen apart. She was familiar. Her image filled his mind, a face he had once admired, a person he had once respected. *She...* He remembered the games they had played together, the way he had felt a connection with her, the laughter they shared before things went awry.
And then, there was another thought. A name that carried even more weight—**DeeDee.**
"Aliss," he murmured again, trying to ground himself, "I remember you... from before. From a long time ago. You were the one I... admired, wasn't it?" His voice was shaky, almost apologetic. "But, no... I can't... It's all a blur... How did I get here?" He tried to shake the fog from his mind, but the more he thought about it, the worse it became.
DeeDee, standing by silently as she watched him, felt her heart break as the pieces started falling into place. *He doesn't remember everything...* She could see the flickers of recognition—the way he remembered Aliss, the way his eyes softened when he looked at Zoe. But it was still a struggle for him to piece it all together.
DeeDee stepped forward slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. "David..." she said, using the name she had once called him. "It's me. Dee. Your sister... I'm here."
Her words hit him like a thunderclap. He froze, his eyes widening in disbelief. **Sister?** *Dee?* He tried to recall everything, but the memories seemed too far away, distant and blurred. It wasn't until she stepped closer that a strange feeling surged in his chest. A strange pull, a sense of familiarity that he couldn't deny.
"I... I don't remember... not all of it," he said, his voice breaking, his eyes finally meeting hers with recognition. "But... I know you. I do. You're... my sister."
Tears welled up in DeeDee's eyes as she nodded, her voice trembling. "Yes. I'm your sister, David. And I've been looking for you. I never gave up on you, no matter how lost you became." Her hand reached out, gently resting on his arm, grounding him in the reality of the moment.
Zoe watched the exchange silently, understanding the gravity of what was happening. She knew it wasn't just about her survival or the demons anymore. It was about David—about the man who had once been kind and strong, before Simon twisted him into something unrecognizable. She had known from the moment she saw him again that the true battle wasn't against the demons or the enemies around them. It was against the darkness within him.
David's eyes flicked back to Zoe, and for the first time, there was a sense of clarity in them. *Zoe... you... saved me. You always did.* The anger that had consumed him began to crack, his heart slowly returning to the light.
"You defended me," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "In the tutorial... You were there when I needed you... You... saved me."
Zoe nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "I'll always have your back, Dust. I didn't give up on you. I won't now."
David swallowed hard, his breath shaky as he looked back at the room—the throne, the chaos, the battlefield outside. *It was never about the demons. It was always about finding myself again...* His grip on his daggers loosened, his fists unclenching.
A moment of peace fell over him, as he finally stopped fighting himself, the rage, the darkness slowly melting away. He took a deep breath and whispered, "I'm sorry for everything... But now, I remember who I am."
He turned to Simon, who had been watching the entire exchange from the shadows, his expression darkening. "It's over, Simon. Your control over me is finished. I choose my own path now."
With that, the weight of the past, the darkness that had consumed him for so long, seemed to lift, and David stood there, no longer Asmolgan, but the man he once was—the man he was meant to be. And with that, the battle for his soul was over. The future, now uncertain, was his to shape.
As the moment of clarity settled within David, the heavy atmosphere in the throne room shifted. For a brief instant, it seemed as if everything had come full circle. His past, his memories, his humanity—everything he had been struggling to remember—seemed to coalesce. But that fleeting sense of peace was shattered the moment Simon stepped forward, his smile cold and predatory.
"You think you're free?" Simon's voice was low, filled with mocking amusement. "You're still mine, David. You always will be." His eyes narrowed as he shifted his gaze to Zoe. "And as for you... you're nothing more than an illusion in his shattered mind." He sneered, his tone dripping with venom.
Before anyone could react, Simon moved with terrifying speed, drawing his weapon—a cruel, jagged blade. He lunged at Zoe, his eyes burning with malice. "You shouldn't have come back," he spat, the words full of hate and loathing. "You're the one thing that could bring him back to his senses, and that's something I can't allow."
Zoe, startled by the sudden attack, barely had time to react. Her hand instinctively reached for her weapon, but Simon was too quick. He was upon her, his blade aimed straight for her heart.
David's eyes snapped to Zoe in an instant, the protective instinct that had once defined him flaring back to life. Time seemed to slow as he saw Zoe in peril. **No.** The feeling, the connection he had with her, surged through him like wildfire, and in that moment, everything else faded away.
Without a thought, David stepped in front of her, throwing his body into the path of Simon's blade. The impact was brutal—cold steel slicing through flesh, a scream of pain escaping his lips. Blood stained his hands as he clutched the wound, but his will was stronger than ever.
"David!" Zoe cried out, her voice filled with horror.
Simon's smile widened, a look of twisted satisfaction on his face. "It's too late for you, David. You were always too weak to fight me. And now... you'll die in the same way you were born—powerless, broken." He turned his gaze back to Zoe, his expression turning colder. "I'll end you both."
But something inside David snapped. He could feel the pain of the wound, but his mind was clearer than ever. He was no longer the monster Simon had made. The blood pouring from his side only fueled his fury, his determination to protect Zoe, to reclaim the humanity Simon had stolen from him.
"You won't touch her," David growled through gritted teeth. The darkness that had once consumed him was now a distant memory. His voice was full of conviction as he stood tall, even as the blood dripped from his wound. "I'm not yours to control anymore. And neither is Zoe."
He turned to Zoe, his gaze softening as he stepped back toward her, pushing her away from Simon's reach. "Get back," he whispered urgently. "I'm done being your puppet, Simon. This ends now."
Simon's eyes darkened, his grin faltering for a moment. "You think you can stop me? You're nothing but a broken man, David. I *made* you. And I'll break you again."
But David's resolve was unshakable. His voice was steady as he stepped forward, his posture unwavering despite the blood loss. "You didn't make me. You twisted me, but you didn't make me." He took another step, his eyes narrowing. "And I'll make sure you pay for every life you destroyed."
In that moment, Simon's expression changed. There was a flicker of doubt in his eyes, something he had never shown before. But before he could react, David lunged, his body fueled by pure instinct and a need to protect. They collided with a force that sent shockwaves through the room, but David was no longer the man Simon had turned him into. He was fighting for his future—fighting for his humanity, his sister, and Zoe.
The battle was far from over. But in that moment, David knew one thing for certain—he wasn't the monster Simon had created anymore. He was ready to fight back.