Luke was quietly tending to his training when a messenger arrived, bowing deeply.
"Young master, your father requests your presence in the royal hall immediately,"
The messenger informed him with a tone of urgency.
Luke nodded and followed, his mind racing. He knew this day was coming—the day his father and Hiesenberg had spoken of. Today was significant.
As Luke entered the royal hall, he was greeted by the imposing figure of his father, Ryan Crimson, standing tall and powerful. Beside him was the familiar sight of Hiesenberg, the Mage of Calamity, his eyes filled with wisdom and concern. But what caught Luke's attention most was the third figure in the room—Anna Hartz, Hiesenberg's daughter and one of the most powerful mages in the future he knew.
Her presence only heightened the sense of importance surrounding this moment.
Hiesenberg stepped forward, his expression serious. "Luke," he began, his voice steady but filled with gravity, "the time has come."
Luke took a breath, ready for what was to come.
"Today," Hiesenberg continued, "we will attempt to form a contract between you and the demon that resides within you. But remember this— the risk is great. If even a single mistake is made, the demon will seize control of your body."
The words hung heavy in the air. Luke clenched his fists, his heart pounding.
"We do not know the demon's intentions," Hiesenberg warned. "You must remain vigilant, strong, and focused. This contract could unlock your future and cure your disease, but it could also destroy you if mishandled."
Luke nodded, fully aware of the gravity of the situation. This was the beginning of a path that could either lead to his salvation or to unimaginable chaos.
Scene: The Ritual Begins
Luke sat cross-legged, his eyes shut tightly as he concentrated all his mana on his forehead. His body trembled slightly from the intensity of the magic swirling around him. Hiesenberg's voice echoed in the room, sharp and commanding, as he recited the ancient spell that reverberated with power.
"Luke," Hiesenberg's voice came through, serious and firm, "remember, you're diving into your own abyss. Find the light in the darkness and follow it. But beware, one wrong move, and the demon will seize control. Stay sharp!"
A surge of energy shot through Luke's body as the spell reached its peak. His consciousness began to fade, and in the blink of an eye, everything around him vanished into darkness.
Scene Switch: Dark Abyss
Luke's eyes shot open, his breath coming out in quick gasps. His surroundings were unfamiliar—a dark void stretching endlessly around him. He was lying on a cold, damp surface, the wetness seeping into his clothes. He staggered to his feet, feeling a chill crawl up his spine. The silence was deafening, as if the world itself had forgotten the concept of sound.
Suddenly, in the distance, something caught his eye—a faint gleam. A single sword, thrust deep into the ground, bathed in an eerie, dim light.
"What…is this place?" Luke whispered, his voice barely a breath in the void.
With hesitant steps, Luke walked toward the sword, each footstep echoing loudly in the emptiness. His heartbeat quickened. As he reached out to grab the sword's hilt, strange, glowing red markings began to etch themselves into the ground beneath him. The designs twisted and spiraled around him like a curse.
The moment his fingers wrapped around the hilt, a violent shockwave exploded from the sword.
"BOOM!"
Luke was hurled through the air, as if the ground itself had rejected him. His body slammed into something hard—a towering wall that hadn't been there before. His breath caught in his throat, pain radiating through his body as he collapsed to the ground, gasping for air.
For a moment, everything was still. Then, a sinister, oppressive aura filled the air. The darkness seemed to thicken, pressing down on him like a tidal wave of raw malevolence. It was suffocating.
Luke's eyes widened, his body frozen. He could feel it—death—looming over him like an executioner ready to strike.
Suddenly, a deep, chilling laugh pierced through the silence. It was a sound that echoed in the deepest parts of his soul, shaking him to his core.
"So…you've come, boy."
The voice was dark and resonant, dripping with power and menace. It was as if the void itself was speaking to him, and every word made Luke's heart pound faster.
"You've grown…" the voice continued, a wicked chuckle following, "…but you're still so fragile."
Luke clenched his fists, forcing himself to turn around despite the overwhelming pressure crushing him. His eyes locked onto the figure emerging from the darkness—a massive, towering figure wrapped in shadows, two glowing crimson eyes staring down at him with a predatory hunger.
The darkness seemed to bow before him, an entity that exuded both chaos and control, an untouchable force. And then, Luke's breath caught in his throat as he realized who—what—he was facing.
"Lucifer…Morningstar," Luke whispered, his voice trembling.
The demon, Lucifer, grinned, his sharp fangs gleaming in the faint light as his massive wings unfurled behind him, stretching out as if to swallow the entire void.
"You're in my domain now, boy," Lucifer's voice dripped with malice, each word feeling like a dagger to Luke's chest. "Tell me, why have you come? Surely you're not foolish enough to think you can control me."
Luke's fists tightened, his body trembling. He forced his fear back, swallowing hard. He knew this was the moment—everything depended on this. His disease, his future, his strength. But facing a being like this… could he do it?
Lucifer's laugh echoed again, vibrating through the air, his eyes burning brighter.
"Well then… show me your resolve, boy!" Lucifer roared, the ground trembling beneath Luke's feet as the demon's power surged through the dark space. "Or perish trying!"
Scene Shift: The Other World
A quiet night under the stars, the wind rustling through the trees. A teenage boy strolled through the mountains, eyes glued to his phone, completely lost in his own world. His headphones blasted music, and he barely noticed as the familiar path beneath his feet faded into something more mysterious.
The mountains around him loomed higher, more ominous than before, but he shrugged it off with a cocky grin. "Eh, no big deal." The moonlight reflected in the still water of a lake he'd never seen before. His steps slowed, and he glanced up from his phone, his eyes narrowing in confusion.
"Wait... where am I?"
He pulled out one earbud, but the eerie silence of the night only deepened. The lake in front of him shimmered under the moon, its surface perfectly still. He hesitated, then put away his phone, feeling the strange pull of the place. The wind felt different—gentler, like it was whispering something he couldn't quite hear.
With a sigh, he flopped down on the grass by the water's edge, leaning back with his hands behind his head. The soft rustling of the leaves, the subtle hum of the wind—it all made him feel at peace. He stared at the water for a moment, the way it reflected the stars above, then smirked to himself.
"What a peaceful place," he muttered to himself, closing his eyes and letting the soft wind carry his thoughts away. But then—a chilling sensation. A single drop of water fell on his face.
He blinked awake, and his heart stopped.
The serene lakeside was gone. He found himself inside what looked like a dark, damp cave. His eyes darted around in horror. The jagged walls dripped with moisture, and the air was thick with a nauseating stench.
"What the…?" He scrambled backward, falling hard onto the ground. Panic surged through him as he screamed in despair, his voice echoing in the oppressive darkness. His breaths were shallow, frantic. His hands trembled as he tried to steady himself.
He stumbled forward, trying to make sense of the situation, only to freeze in his tracks.
Dead animals—mutilated, torn apart—littered the cave floor. Blood pooled around their bodies, the sickening metallic scent now overpowering. His own hands, his clothes, everything was soaked in crimson. His stomach churned as he realized it was the blood of the dead.
Before he could comprehend what was happening, he was slammed to the ground by something—something unseen, something dark. Shadowy figures circled him, their movements inhumanly fast. Then, the pain began.
Teeth, claws—he couldn't tell what it was—ripped through his flesh, the agony indescribable. He screamed, but no sound seemed to come out, as though the cave itself swallowed his cries. He thrashed, trying to escape, but the biting, tearing only intensified. His vision blurred, and the world dimmed. As the final light drained from his eyes, everything faded to black.
But then…
The sensation again. A water droplet on his face.
He gasped, bolting upright. His heart pounded in his chest as he looked around. He was back by the lake. Was it a nightmare? His body trembled with confusion and terror.
Before he could catch his breath, a shadow shot toward him, too fast for him to react. His eyes widened in shock, and in an instant, the pain returned—worse, deeper. Something tore into his stomach, vicious and relentless, as if his insides were being ripped apart.
He couldn't even scream this time. His mind went blank as everything turned to darkness once more.
Again, his eyes snapped open from the cold sensation of a water droplet. This time, pure terror gripped him. He shot up, running as fast as his legs would carry him, desperate to escape whatever twisted nightmare he was trapped in. But it was futile.
Once again, he was pinned down, and the excruciating pain surged through his body. As the shadows tore into him, his mind fragmented from the agony. And again, the drop fell.
But this time, he kept his eyes shut, his entire being trembling with fear. He dared not open them, hoping that by refusing to look, he could break the cycle. The air around him felt heavy with tension, but nothing happened. Slowly, tentatively, he cracked his eyes open.
A dark, purplish-blue figure loomed over him, its glowing yellow eyes piercing through his very soul. He glanced around, heart pounding, and saw countless other eyes—endless, ravenous—staring back at him, waiting to devour him whole. The screams of his own suffering echoed in the darkness, and with each one, the cycle of death and rebirth continued.
Hours turned into days, days into months, and still, his body was torn apart, devoured over and over again. Each death more agonizing than the last. His spirit shattered, his will broken. In the depths of his despair, as his body lay mutilated, he whispered a final plea:
"I don't care if it's a god… or the devil… help me. Free me from this nightmare. I want to die. I can't bear this pain anymore. What have I done to deserve this?"
To his shock, the torment ceased. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the shadows did not attack. He lay there, stunned, when a voice, cold and mocking, whispered through the void.
"So, you've finally given up, resilient child. How admirable that you lasted 15 minutes in my kshetr," the voice sneered, dragging out the word like a curse. "But it's over now. Once hope is gone, there's no need for suffering anymore."
And just as suddenly as it had appeared, the voice vanished, leaving an eerie silence in its wake.
When he awoke again, he found himself back in the cave—but everything had changed. The blood, the carcasses, the shadows, the screams—they were all gone. The suffocating darkness had lifted, replaced by a blinding light at the mouth of the cave.
He blinked, shielding his eyes from the brightness, something he hadn't seen in what felt like an eternity. The light, soft and warm, beckoned him forward, a forgotten glimpse of freedom. For the first time in what felt like forever, he dared to hope.