The room shifted from the quiet vastness of space to the comfortable warmth of a luxurious city apartment. **Law** now stood by a large window, overlooking the bustling city below, a glass of champagne lightly held in his hand. The city lights reflected in his calm eyes, but beneath the surface of his ordinary human appearance lay the same calculating mind that had just been weaving his cosmic thoughts moments earlier.
His appearance had changed. Now, he looked like an average, successful businessman—clean-cut, well-dressed, with an air of calm authority. To any passerby, he was nothing more than a devoted family man living a peaceful life.
A woman and a little girl entered the room. The child, no older than six, ran excitedly toward **Law**, her arms outstretched.
**Little Girl**: "Daddy!"
She hugged him tightly, and **Law**, maintaining his facade, crouched down and gently patted her head. His cold, calculating mind was perfectly hidden behind the soft smile he offered her.
The woman, his wife by all outward appearances, walked over with a welcoming smile.
**Wife**: "How was the meeting today, darling? The one about the construction project for the welfare program?"
Her voice was gentle, full of concern for the man she believed was tirelessly working to make the world a better place.
**Law** took a sip of his champagne before answering, his voice warm and reassuring.
**Law**: "The meeting went well, my love."
He rose from his crouch and placed his free hand on the woman's shoulder, offering her a soft smile that would disarm anyone. His gaze, however, drifted back to the window.
**Law**: "I'm sorry I've been staying away from home so much lately."
His voice was filled with feigned sincerity, a masterful performance.
**Law**: "I just can't stand the thought of people losing their homes because of the war. I'm doing everything I can to make sure this project succeeds."
The woman's eyes softened as she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his waist.
**Wife**: "You're doing an amazing job. We're all so proud of you."
The little girl looked up at her father with wide, admiring eyes, echoing the sentiment.
**Little Girl**: "Yeah, Daddy! You're the best!"
**Law** smiled warmly at them both, playing his part to perfection. Yet deep inside, none of it mattered. This was all just another layer of his carefully crafted existence—a life meant to blend into society, a mask he wore while his true self manipulated worlds from behind the scenes.
But for now, he played the role of the loving father and husband, knowing that this facade, too, served its purpose in his grand design.
**Law** sat at his desk, a stack of paperwork scattered before him, though his mind was focused far beyond the mundane tasks that occupied his hands. He picked up a book, flipping through its pages idly, contemplating the layers of his plans and the future yet to unfold.
A soft knock echoed through the room.
**Law**: "Come in."
The door creaked open, and **Victoria** stepped inside. Her presence was sharp, her expression carrying both respect and the weight of recent accomplishment. She approached slowly, her hand holding a finely crafted blade, one that gleamed with ancient power.
**Victoria**: "Apologies for the interruption, Master."
She placed the sword before **Law**, its hilt facing him respectfully. The weapon hummed with an almost invisible energy, a reverberation of power that only one like **Law** could fully comprehend. This was **Truth**, one of the seven legendary blades, forged by the **Sovereign of Revelation**. A sword that could bend the fabric of reality itself by teaching mortals the law and manifesting miracles through the deconstruction of all things.
**Law** eyed the sword for a moment, his lips curling slightly into a smile. He placed the book down, tracing a finger across the blade's edge.
**Law**: "Good work."
His voice was low, pleased but cold.
**Law**: "I bet the angels have no idea their precious sword was stolen and swapped with a fake. Their arrogance blinds them."
He leaned back in his chair, looking at **Victoria** with a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes.
**Law**: "Now, with two swords in my possession, I am one step closer to gaining my freedom."
His expression darkened, becoming almost feral as his next words dripped with dangerous ambition.
**Law**: "To kill God."
There was no hesitation in his voice, no fear in speaking those words aloud. To **Law**, this was no mere ambition—it was a calculated, inevitable step in his grand plan.
After a moment of silence, he waved his hand dismissively.
**Law**: "You may go now, Victoria."
She bowed slightly, her usual composure returning as she turned to leave, knowing her part in this stage of his plan had been completed. With two of the seven swords now under his control, the balance of power in the cosmos was shifting—and soon, all would bow before Law's will.
The scene begins in Victoria's dimly lit office, the air thick with tension as **Erebus** enters. He stands in the doorway, his usual confident demeanor checked, sensing the shift in atmosphere. Victoria is seated at her desk, smiling pleasantly at first.
**Victoria**: "Please, take a seat."
Erebus walks cautiously to the chair in front of her desk, lowering himself into it while keeping his eyes on her.
**Erebus**: "So, what's the emergency? I thought we settled everything earlier this afternoon."
Victoria waves her hand dismissively, her smile persistent.
**Victoria**: "Not exactly. There's still something we need to discuss."
She leans forward slightly, her fingers intertwining as she rests them on the desk. **Erebus** watches her closely, his guard up.
**Victoria**: "Anyway, again, I really appreciate all your help." Her voice is soft but steady.
But then, something shifts. The temperature in the room plummets, and an unsettling energy fills the space. Behind Victoria's calm facade, a dangerous intensity begins to seep through. Her smile remains, but it no longer reaches her eyes.
**Victoria**: "But don't get me wrong."
The smile flickers, replaced by a look of cold, controlled rage. **Erebus** tenses, the change in her demeanor stark and menacing.
**Victoria**: "You see, I remembered clearly that night you created your... reputation." Her voice drops in pitch, the weight of her words pressing down on him. "And I want to make sure that nothing like that happens again. In any form."
Her smile fades completely now, her eyes narrowing as she leans forward, locking her gaze on his.
**Victoria**: "Especially behind our master's back. Especially doing things without notifying me."
Her tone has become deadly serious, the room filled with an unspoken threat. **Erebus** can feel the pressure building in the room, his muscles tensing as he fights to keep his own emotions in check.
For a moment, there is silence. **Victoria** holds his gaze, her expression daring him to challenge her. But he doesn't. He knows better than to cross her.
**Erebus**, suppressing his anger, forces a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.
**Erebus**: "Completely."
The tension remains thick, but **Erebus** doesn't linger. He rises from his seat, giving her a short, respectful nod before turning toward the door. He walks out without another word, the door closing behind him with a soft click.
Back in the room, **Victoria** sits alone, her face once again calm and composed, the tension dissipating as the temperature slowly returns to normal. She leans back in her chair, satisfied that she had made her point.
As the door softly clicks shut behind Erebus, the atmosphere in Victoria's office shifts again, but this time in a surreal and unsettling manner. The once cold and tense room now feels eerily still, almost as if it holds its breath in anticipation of what's to come.
Victoria's serious expression begins to contort, her features softening and transforming into a wild, manic smile. Her eyes glint with a strange mix of madness and affection as she leans back in her chair, an unsettling calm washing over her.
**Victoria**: *"My Zadkiel..."*
Her voice takes on a sing-song quality, dripping with obsession as she leans forward, her fingers brushing over the smooth surface of her desk, as if caressing an imaginary figure.
**Victoria**: *"How dare you die without telling me? You were the only person that understood me!"*
With a flick of her wrist, she summons a body pillow depicting Zadkiel, the fabric soft and inviting, yet the image on it reflects a grotesque mixture of her love and insanity. It shows him in a heroic pose, the fierce determination in his eyes frozen in time, unaware of the twisted affection it represents.
**Victoria**: *"Oh, how lovely it could have been if you had accepted my love and we had many babies together!"*
Her laughter fills the room, echoing off the walls as she clutches the body pillow tightly against her chest, burying her face into it. The contrast between her earlier coldness and this overwhelming adoration is jarring, revealing the depths of her delusion.
As she hugs the pillow, she imagines a life where Zadkiel is alive and with her, envisioning a future filled with laughter, love, and children bearing his name. Her fingers trace the outline of the pillow, her breath quickening as her fantasies take hold.
**Victoria**: *"We would have been unstoppable together! You would have seen, my love! I would have made you so happy!"*
The room is filled with her manic whispers and giggles, a stark reminder of the fragility of her mind. It's a sanctuary of insanity, where her darkest desires for love and companionship merge with the shadow of the man she lost.
Lost in her fantasies, she remains oblivious to the reality outside, her mind wrapped in a cocoon of obsessive love, blissfully unaware of the darkness that surrounds her.
Victoria's voice crescendos into a frenzied shout, echoing through the empty room as she grips the body pillow of Zadkiel even tighter, her manic obsession spilling forth.
**Victoria**: *"Zadkiel! Zadkiel! Zadkiel!"*
Her eyes are wide, gleaming with an unsettling mix of longing and fury as she nearly shakes the pillow, as if trying to wake the imagined version of him within it.
**Victoria**: *"YOU BELONG TO ME!"*
The declaration bursts forth, laced with an intensity that reverberates in the silence of the room. She feels a rush of power in those words, a fierce claim over the essence of the man she has idolized and lost.
As her breath quickens, she paces the confines of her office, the walls closing in as she tries to contain her fervent emotions. The air grows thick with her desperation, a tangible weight that seems to press down upon her. She circles the room, her mind racing as she imagines all the things they could have shared, the life they could have built together.
**Victoria**: *"You were mine before you even knew it! I will make you mine again!"*
A manic smile creeps back onto her face, her laughter ringing out in wild abandon. The fabric of the body pillow crumples under her grip as she spins around, envisioning him at her side, a perfect partner in her twisted dreamscape.
She pauses for a moment, gazing intently at the pillow as if it might respond, her expression shifting between longing and rage.
**Victoria**: *"I won't let anyone take you away from me again! I'll find a way to bring you back, and this time… this time, you'll see!"*
Her heart races with the certainty of her obsession, fueling a dangerous determination that ignites her spirit. In that moment, the darkness within her takes root, and she begins to plot, weaving together her desires and ambitions into a single, fervent purpose: to reclaim what she believes is rightfully hers.