Lionel lounged on his massive throne, the dim glow of red-tinted lights casting ominous shadows across the vast chamber. Earth's once-great cities lay in ruin beyond his fortress, skeletal remains of a civilization that had crumbled beneath his feet. The monstrous base he had constructed loomed over the broken skyline, its sheer size and advanced construction defying reason. Warships hovered above like specters, their presence an unshakable reminder of his absolute control.
A year had passed since he claimed this world.
And yet, he was bored.
His sharp claws tapped idly against the armrest, the rhythmic clink against the dark stone the only sound in the suffocating silence.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"Captain Talion."
A figure stepped forward from the shadows—a man dressed in pristine, regal attire. He carried himself with the grace of a nobleman, but the sinister gleam in his sharp, intelligent eyes betrayed his true nature. A devil wrapped in refinement.
"Yes, my lord?" Talion's voice was smooth, laced with amusement.
Lionel sighed, resting his cheek against his fist. "I am bored… Bring me entertainment."
Talion's lips curled into a small, knowing smile. "At once, master."
With a simple wave of his hand, the massive doors groaned open. A group of women, bound in chains, were ushered into the room. Their faces were pale, their bodies trembling as they stood before him. The air reeked of fear.
"Dance for me," Lionel ordered lazily, waving his fingers in the air.
The women hesitated at first, their eyes darting between one another, but the silent threat of death forced their bodies into motion. They moved as best as they could, their feet shuffling against the cold stone floor, their chains clinking with each hesitant step.
Lionel's expression remained unimpressed. His clawed fingers drummed against the throne, his patience wearing thin.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
His eyes flickered with irritation.
"This is such a bore…" he muttered, raising a single finger.
The women flinched.
His gaze landed on the one in the center. "You. The lovely one in the middle. Step forward."
She stiffened, her breath hitching, but she obeyed.
"Y-Yes, sir," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lionel tilted his head slightly, his sharp fangs peeking from his smirk. "What's your name?"
"…Emilia," she answered, her hands clutching the chains wrapped around her wrists.
"Emilia…" Lionel repeated, rolling the name over his tongue as if testing its taste. "What a nice name."
She swallowed, her legs trembling.
"You are the best among them," he mused, his eyes never leaving her.
"T-Thank you, master," she whispered, bowing deeply.
Lionel's smirk widened.
Then—he lifted a single finger.
Her body froze.
A terrified gasp left her lips, her muscles locking in place, her wide eyes filling with sheer horror.
She couldn't move.
Couldn't breathe.
Lionel sighed, his expression unreadable. "But… you are still such a bore."
He gestured for the others. "Come closer."
The remaining women hesitated, but fear drove them forward, their bodies pressing together as they neared him.
"Yes, master," they whispered in unison.
Lionel stood from his throne, his towering form casting a monstrous shadow over them. He took slow, deliberate steps, his demonic presence suffocating.
He stopped in front of one of the women, his massive clawed hand reaching out to gently touch her trembling cheek.
"You disappoint me."
Her breath caught.
Then—her head exploded.
A sickening crack echoed through the chamber as blood and brain matter splattered across the cold stone floor.
The remaining women screamed, their wails of horror reverberating through the throne room.
All except one.
She stood motionless.
Silent.
Expression blank.
Lionel's gaze slowly shifted to her.
"Oh?" His lips curled, intrigued. "Now this is interesting…"
Lionel leaned in close, his Red eyes gleaming with amusement as he studied the woman standing before him. His massive frame loomed over her, his presence suffocating.
"What's wrong?" he murmured, his voice dangerously soft. "Scared?"
The other women trembled, whimpering as they tried to back away, their shackles clinking together.
Lionel's grin widened, his fangs glinting. "You don't have any rights. Not even the right to scream."
Without warning, he reached out.
The woman barely had time to react before his claws clamped around her jaw. A strangled cry tore from her throat as he forced her mouth open—then, in a swift, brutal motion, he ripped out her tongue.
Blood splattered across the stone floor, painting his fingers red.
A gurgled, choking sound escaped the woman as she collapsed to her knees, clutching at the empty space where her tongue had been. Her eyes bulged in sheer agony, her body convulsing as crimson dripped between her fingers.
Lionel let her go, his expression one of mild amusement as he flicked the severed tongue between his claws.
"How about you?" He turned to the remaining woman—the one who had yet to scream.
She stood still.
Silent.
Unmoving.
Lionel tilted his head, intrigued.
Slowly, his grin returned, darker than before. "Good. You're my favorite."
Then, with a sickening smirk, he shoved the severed tongue into her mouth.
"Chew."
The woman quivered, her entire body shaking as she obeyed. Tears streamed down her face as she bit down, the iron taste of blood overwhelming her senses. She chewed, her body screaming in disgust, but she did not dare disobey.
Talion chuckled, watching with amusement. "She is a good creature, isn't she?" His voice was smooth, dripping with amusement.
The massive double doors at the far end of the throne room groaned as they opened.
Satsujin walked in.
The air in the room shifted. Lionel's smirk faded instantly, his amusement draining as his eyes locked onto the figure approaching.
"Right now?" he muttered, sounding more irritated than surprised. His gaze flicked back to the trembling woman before him. "My fun is soiled…"
He waved a lazy hand. "Drag her away."
Talion bowed deeply, his sinister grin never faltering. "As you wish, my lord."
Without hesitation, he turned to the woman, his gloved hands wrapping around her throat. He squeezed—tight. Her body thrashed, her already weak lungs gasping for air. Her face turned purple as her legs kicked weakly, her vision blackening at the edges.
Then, silence.
Her limp body sagged in his grasp.
Talion effortlessly dragged her away, her arms dangling lifelessly against the cold stone floor.
Lionel leaned back into his throne, resting his cheek against his fist, his expression unreadable.
"What do you have for me?"
Satsujin's voice was calm, but the weight of his words pressed heavily against the air. "This news is… dire."
Lionel raised an eyebrow, uninterested. "Dire?"
Satsujin met his gaze. "It's… him."
Lionel's expression shifted. A flicker of genuine surprise crossed his face before it curled into something far more dangerous. His golden eyes gleamed.
"Him… You don't mean—"
"I do," Satsujin confirmed, his voice firm. "The first mutant's ability has been recorded in combat against our forces."
For a moment, Lionel was silent. Then, he exhaled slowly, a low chuckle rumbling from deep within his chest. "Really?" His grin widened. "Then it's time…"
He leaned forward, resting his elbow on the armrest of his throne. "And the Demon User I sent?"
Satsujin's expression remained unreadable. "Perished."
Lionel clicked his tongue. "As expected… He was a lower-ranked one."
"What do you think of all this?" Satsujin asked.
Lionel stretched, rolling his shoulders. "I think… they stand no chance." His smirk returned, sharper than ever. "It's time to push with our full power."
Satsujin nodded. "Good. I'll give the order."
As Satsujin turned to leave, Lionel rose from his throne.
"Master?" Talion's voice carried a hint of curiosity.
Lionel didn't look back. "I'm bored. I'm going down to our prisoners."
Talion bowed. "Very well, sire."
Lionel strode through the dimly lit corridors of his fortress, his heavy footsteps echoing ominously. The deeper he went, the colder the air became. Shadows stretched across the walls, cast by the faint glow of flickering torches.
He approached a heavily guarded chamber.
The soldiers at the entrance immediately stiffened, saluting him. "Lord Lionel."
Lionel didn't slow. "How is he faring?"
One of the guards hesitated. "…Still trying to kill himself."
Lionel snorted. "How pathetic." He flicked his wrist. "Move aside."
The massive door groaned as it opened.
Inside, a single figure hung suspended in magic chains, his body weakened, covered in wounds and scars. Dozens of vials were stabbed into his arms, draining him of strength, yet his breathing remained steady. His fur-covered ears twitched slightly, and his tail, matted with dried blood, barely moved. His once-powerful frame had been reduced to something gaunt, but despite it all, his sharp, Crimson eyes burned with a familiar, unyielding fire.
A demi-wolf. A warrior once feared.
Now, just a prisoner in Lionel's grasp.
The man coughed, his breath ragged as he slowly lifted his head.
He smirked.
"Look who graces me with his presence…"
man answers immediately. His ears twitched, his breathing heavy. Then, slowly, his gaze met Lionel's, sharp as a blade.
"How do you fare… Alexander Sentryon?"