As I change into my clothes for work, I hear Joseph’s exaggerated mourning echoing from behind the door. Somehow, our roles have reversed, and for once, I feel powerful. Though I have to admit, I used a little of the red fog on him to make him think of me, since that day in the restaurant I feel on the lower side but now. The effect is... overwhelming. This power is truly intoxicating.

  Thankfully, Elene helped me tone it down, warning me of the dangers of even releasing a small amount. Still, I decided to test it on him, expecting minor results. To my surprise, even a trace of the fog’s enchantment made him obsess over me. These days, he’s been sending flowers and chocolates, each delivery more extravagant than the last.

  It’s a strange and unsettling kind of victory.

  I open the door and am greeted by Joseph’s pitiful face.

  “What?” I ask, barely masking my amusement.

  “I already said I’m sorry. Please,” he begs, his tone almost comedic in its desperation.

  “I know… but I don’t think I’m ready yet.” I smirk, enjoying the shift in power.

  Without giving him another chance to respond, I head to work, taking the same old route—walking, the usual crowded passage, and the faint smell of coffee in the air.

  As I step into the office, Raian, my boss, greets me in his usual passive-aggressive way by tossing a stack of papers onto my desk.

  “Morning, Mr. Boss Brian,” I mutter, not expecting a reply.

  He doesn’t say a word, which isn’t surprising. Ever since I got my job back—twice—he’s been oddly reserved, as if constantly reevaluating whether it’s worth dealing with me. I’d thank Joseph’s dad for pulling the strings, but I doubt it’d make Brian less bitter. On the bright side, with the raise I managed to secure, I can finally afford meals that don’t come in instant noodle packaging.

  “Elysia! Good morning!”

  I freeze.

  “What? Elene! I told you never to come to my job again!”

  “Did you? Hmm, no clue.”

  “Yes, now go.” I shove her toward the exit, pushing her out of the office.

  Just then, I noticed a man—no, Lysander. a literal walking magazine cover. He’s tall, strikingly handsome, with an aura so intense it’s hard to look away. His eyes lock onto mine, and I feel my world tilt. It’s like gravity itself is bending to his will, dragging me under his spell.

  “Hello. Do you remember me, pretty lady?” His voice is smooth, enchanting.

  “No” With a slightly hint of a yes

  Of course I was lying but I am taken, what else could I say?

  Before I can respond, Elene steps in sharply.

  “Brother!” she reappears, breaking the trance.

  I shake my head, snapping back to reality.

  “Elene? What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Of course, I’m being a good friend to someone”

  “Of all places, I never expected you here, Elene. Always screwing up my plans.”

  “Can someone explain to me what’s going on?” I interject, my confusion mounting.

  Elene sighs dramatically, as if this is all so obvious.

  “This handsome guy, who looks like he walked out of a fashion shoot, is an incubus. My brother, the one I told you about. I sensed his aura.”

  Her hands clench into fists, twisting and stretching as if preparing for a fight.

  “You know, brother, I haven’t forgotten how you treated me like a rag doll, like I was nothing more than a pawn for your games.”

  “You weren’t even worth using as a sacrificial goat,” he replies coldly, a smirk tugging at his lips.

  The tension is so thick it’s suffocating. If these two start fighting, this office—and possibly half the block—will go up in flames.

  “Elene, can you please take your brother out of here?” I plead, glaring at the incubus with as much authority as I can muster.

  “Oh, Elysia,” the incubus croons, turning his unsettling gaze back to me. “So direct, so fierce. I like a girl like you. Even though you act so pure, you’re not, are you? Beneath the surface, you’re hiding a deliciously dark heart.”

  “What are you talking about, incubus?” I snap, my voice sharper than I intended.

  “I see the lust in your soul, but it’s more than that. I see evil. You still have the mark given by Asaul, don't you? Your heart tells me you’re using it for all the wrong reasons.” His voice drops into a whisper, dripping with sinister delight. “A bad girl like you excites me.”

  He licks his lips as if savoring the thought, and my stomach churns.

  “Elene,” I say, my voice steady but urgent, “get your brother out of here before I throw him out myself.”

  “Relax, I’m not here to fight. I’m working, just like the rest of you,” the incubus announces casually, his tone almost too smooth for someone who clearly thrives on chaos.

  “Do you?” I raise an eyebrow, skeptical.

  “Yes,” he replies smugly.

  “Right,” I deadpan. “Last time Elene worked here, she nearly killed all the workers. So I don't expect much better from you”

  “Forgive my dumb sister. She’s been dumb since birth. It’s like Mom didn’t give her enough protein in her milk. Just look at her—her expression screams ‘someone replaced my brain with a walnut and gave me the IQ of a chicken.’”

  “That’s it!” Elene shouts, shoving him with all her might.

  Before I can intervene, both of them burst out of the building, their wings unfolding in an instant. Within seconds, they’re airborne, trading blows mid-air like two supernatural siblings hashing out their issues with maximum property damage.

  And me? I’m left standing there, watching the chaos unfold through the office window. “And here I thought I was impulsive…”

  It doesn’t take long for the news crews and media to catch wind of the spectacle. Outside, a crowd gathers, cameras flashing as Elene and her brother continue their high-stakes sibling rivalry.

  Meanwhile, my boss, Mr. Raian, remains holed up in his office, seemingly unfazed by the madness.

  “Boss, everyone is outside,” I inform him, trying to keep my voice steady despite the distant sound of explosions.

  “Instead of wasting time gawking, you should be working. We have a deadline coming up,” he says without even looking up from his desk.

  “Right… sure,” I mutter, shaking my head.

  The explosions grow louder, and I swear I can feel the vibrations in the walls. God, the force is here. The Wi-Fi in our department collapses entirely, which honestly feels like a bigger catastrophe than the potential destruction of the city.

  But Mr. Raian remains calm, adjusting his glasses like this is just another Tuesday.

  “Don’t worry. I bought a backup device. I still have time to save the files!,” he says with a sigh of relief.

  I scratch my head, feeling like I’ve been dropped into a surrealist comedy. Outside, Elene and her brother are still at it, their battle escalating as missiles streak through the sky, and her brother gracefully dodges them like it’s some kind of deadly dance.

  “I can’t believe everyone’s losing their minds over UFOs,” Mr. Raian mutters, more annoyed than alarmed.

  “Those aren’t UFOs, Mr. Raian,” I reply, deadpan.

  Through the window, I watch as Elene throws a punch so hard that it shatters a missile mid-air.

  “I don’t think this has a solution,” I mutter under my breath, mostly to myself.

  “Of course it does. Don’t worry. Our bosses will accept our proposition, I sent.” Mr. Raian says confidently, completely misunderstanding my statement.

  “Well, I guess it’s lunch time,” I say, deciding I’ve had enough absurdity for one morning.

  “It is. Enjoy your lunch,” he replies, as calm as ever.

  As I take the elevator to the ground floor, I spot Joseph waiting in the lobby. His face is a mess—eyes red, cheeks streaked with tears. He looks like he’s been crying for hours.

  “Elysia!” he cries out, practically throwing himself at me.

  I’ve never seen him look so pathetic.

  “What?” I snap, already bracing myself for whatever nonsense he’s about to say.

  “I beg you, please! Come back to me!”

  This is crazier than I expected. He grabs my hand, and for a moment, I feel a strange weight in my chest. Everything feels… off. Like the world is spiraling out of control, and somehow, I’m at the center of it.

  My brain pounds as if trying to process a thousand things at once. I pull away from him, stumbling out of the building and taking to the sky without a second thought.

  As I soar above the chaos, my mind races. Are they going to shoot Elene down? Will they track me because I’m her friend? And Joseph—he doesn’t look like a man I know anymore. His obsession feels suffocating, and a small, nagging voice in the back of my mind whispers: Is this the result of the red fog?

  I know the answers to all my questions, but I don’t want to say them out loud.

  I just want some peace.

  I make him release my hand and I run in circles, in all the company, trying to find peace. But Of course the silent didn't mean peace.

  “Running out of options?”

  The calm, familiar voice snaps me out of my thoughts. I look up, and there he is—Azazel.

  His smirk is as infuriating as ever, but there’s something about his presence that steadies me, like an anchor in the storm. Even in the middle of this madness, he radiates a confidence that makes it seem like none of it is real danger.

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  “Azazel?” I breathe, half in relief, half in frustration.

  He tilts his head, his smirk widening. “Miss me?”

  “What makes you think I miss you?” I shout, crossing my arms as Azazel smirks at me.

  “Well, for starters, your friend Elene and some random guy are having a WWE match in mid-air. And that guy sobbing over there? Yeah, I can hear his mournful wailing all the way from here,” he replies, motioning toward Joseph, who’s still curled up like a rejected movie protagonist.

  “Yeah, yeah. Can you fix this?” I ask, already regretting it.

  “Fix?” He laughs, the sound almost musical if it weren’t so smug. “Sure. But first, you fix my problem.”

  “What now?” I groan.

  “I want you to come with me to Hell.”

  I blink, staring at him “…What?”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Hahaha! Oh, Azazel, your humor is so out of place sometimes. Hell! What next? You need me to do your taxes?”

  He raises an eyebrow. “No, really. I need something from you. I know who Asaul is.”

  My laughter halts. “That guy? Geez, I was so glad when he disappeared out of my life. What about him?”

  “Well, when I go back to Hell, I forget everything related to Earth—including you.”

  “…Thanks?”

  “Don’t get offended. Your existence is too insignificant for my spectacular and powerful brain.”

  “…I feel so special right now.”

  He waves me off. “Anyway, since I forget everything about Earth, you have to come with me to tell me what Asaul’s plans are. You’re the key.”

  I pull my wrist away from his grasp. “Oh, no way. You’re not dragging me to Hell. Absolutely not.”

  “Think of it as teamwork. You help me, and I help you.”

  “Team?”

  “We’re a team! A bad team, maybe, but still a team. A team of…” He pauses dramatically, smirking. “Love.”

  “…What?”

  “Ah, your face! That was priceless.”

  “You’re impossible,” I mutter. “But fine, what’s the deal? Is it safe? No trauma?”

  He shrugs. “I’ll try not to traumatize you.”

  “Comforting.”

  “So lets go”

  “First. Let me finish my shift”

  “The fate of this planet, and hell is in your hands, and you think about work?”

  “Well, this is my second time being fired, so I don't want a third. So you have to”

  After finishing my shift (and successfully avoiding Joseph’s dramatics), I meet Azazel outside. He stands there, leaning casually on a glowing wooden door that appeared out of nowhere.

  “You’re ready?” he asks, his smirk as confident as ever.

  I sigh. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  From out of nowhere, a door appear, and old wood door. But it is like holding itself. Kind of weird.

  Azazel grabs the knock door and open it, inside, a Dark layers of obscurity.

  We step toward the door, and he gestures to it. “After you.”

  I stare at the dark void behind it, which feels more like staring into the universe’s biggest mistake. “This… this doesn’t look safe.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll catch you,” he says with a smirk that I definitely don’t trust.

  Before I can argue, he gives me a playful shove, and I tumble through the door, screaming. The sensation of falling is endless—like a roller coaster designed by a psychopath. Suddenly, arms wrap around my waist.

  “Azazel!” I snap, feeling my cheeks heat up.

  “Relax. You won’t die while you’re with me,” he says, his tone calm and annoyingly soothing.

  As we fall, the air feels non-existent. Somehow, I can still breathe and talk.

  “Why can I even talk right now?” I ask suspiciously.

  “Simple spells of protection,” Azazel explains, smirking. “Otherwise, you’d have disintegrated before your blood even reached your heart.”

  “Lovely.”

  His expression turns serious as he gestures to the endless void around us. “This is the Eternity Throat. Once we pass this section, we’ll reach the Gates of Hell.”

  “Cool, cool. Totally not freaked out,” I mutter, sarcasm dripping from every word.

  “One more thing,” he adds, his voice oddly firm. “I won’t look so human when we reach the bottom.”

  “…What do you mean by that?”

  “You’ll see. Just don’t get scared, alright?”

  “Yeah, sure. No big deal,” I mutter, but my heart races. What did I just sign up for?

  As we descend, the world around us is swallowed by an endless abyss. Darkness stretches in every direction, making it impossible to tell if we’re even standing on solid ground.

  He releases me, and for a moment, panic grips my chest as I watch him fall—only to land gracefully.

  “So… this is it? Why is it so dark?” I ask, my voice echoing slightly.

  There is no response.

  “Azazel?”

  “...”

  “...”

  This is becoming awkward, did he forget about everything?

  “Let me see you, Azazel.”

  My gaze drifts upward into the void. It feels as though reality itself is rejecting his form, like his earthly appearance will shatter the moment I lay eyes on him. But this is what I signed up for. There’s no turning back now.

  “…Fine,”

  I finally looked at him.

  He’s taller—impossibly so. His frame is broader, more muscular, exuding an overwhelming presence. His expression is cold, emotionless, yet his red eyes burn with quiet intensity, piercing through the shadows like embers in the dark. His clothing has transformed as well—now a black tactical bodysuit reinforced with intricate armor plating, straps, and metallic accents.

  “You don’t look too bad,” I mutter, trying to sound casual despite the unease clawing at my chest. “Besides the height… and the voice. Feels like I’m talking with you.”

  “You must be Elysia”

  His voice is different—colder, emptier, as if any trace of humanity he once had has been stripped away. When he first arrived on Earth, he was distant, detached… but there were moments when he felt almost human. Now, he’s just a hollow void.

  “Yes?”

  “Didn't I tell you before that I would forget about things on earth?”

  “Yes but so how did you know it was me”

  He coughs

  “I prefer to avoid topics that would be a waste of time. Lets go”

  Azazel extends his hand toward me, his expression unreadable.

  “Huh?”

  “What? You must hold my hand, or you will get lost,”

  Azazel suddenly grabs my hand.

  I freeze.

  Normally, I’d slap it away without a second thought, but… he’s right. If I let go, I will get lost in this place.

  At least this once, I tell myself, gripping his hand back.

  “Fine…”

  “I don’t really have to say it, but stop overthinking,” he says suddenly.

  “Huh?”

  “Your face drops information like rain, Elysia. Even if I wanted to ignore you, it’s difficult when you make your concern so obvious.”

  “…Sorry. It’s just hard to process this new version of you. I thought you would become more demonish”

  “I tried to merge my avatar with my true form,” he says. “This is my first attempt. If I lose focus, it may morph into something worse.”

  “What can be worse than seeing your face?” I say trying to break the ice. Though his empty expression is colder than ice.

  As we walk, the darkness shifts, revealing faint glows—wisps floating aimlessly like lost souls. Collars dangle from unseen forces, remnants of something long forgotten.

  But then, my breath catches in my throat.

  Towering above us is an unfathomable creature. Its sheer size renders its face invisible, lost in the shadows above. My body locks up. My legs give out. I collapse onto the unseen ground, unable to move, unable to breathe.

  “What?”.

  “That… that… thing—” I stammer, pointing at the monstrous silhouette.

  “It is merely a guardian of the outer gates. Do not fear it,” he states. “Stay close to me, and you will be fine.”

  His assurance does little to calm the dread creeping into my bones.

  “No, no—I want to go home!” I cry out, my voice trembling with desperation.

  How could I not? I am a human in Hell.

  A shiver runs through me as I take in the suffocating darkness, the monstrous creatures lurking in the shadows. This place is worse than I ever imagined, a realm where light itself feels unwelcome. It’s like stepping into a minefield, every step weighted with impending doom. Panic claws at my throat, my breathing quick and erratic.

  Suddenly, Azazel moves—too fast for me to react.

  Before I can process what’s happening, he tilts my chin up, forcing me to look at him. His touch is firm, deliberate. And then—

  He kisses me.

  My mind blanks.

  Shock floods my body, but as quickly as the surprise sets in, rage erupts within me. I shove him away with all my strength, my palm striking his face in a sharp slap. Demon Lord or not, it doesn’t matter.

  “Who the hell do you think you are, kissing me like that, you pervert?!”

  Azazel touches his cheek, his expression unreadable. A long, heavy silence follows, stretching on like an eternity. For a brief moment, I wonder if I’ve made him angry—but I don’t care. I refuse to back down.

  Then, to my astonishment, I hear a chuckle.

  It starts quiet, a low rumble from his chest, before he suddenly bursts into laughter. The deep sound echoes through the void, a stark contrast to the suffocating darkness around us.

  “You really don’t care, do you?” Azazel chuckles between his laughter, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Even knowing I am the Demon Lord, you let your anger take over, striking me without hesitation.”

  His crimson gaze flickers with something almost… entertained.

  “Even though I am far worse than any Guardian here.”

  I cross my arms, scowling. “Well… you don’t look as menacing as those things.”

  His laughter fades.

  Before I can react, he grabs my arm in a swift, almost effortless motion. His grip is firm, yet not painful.

  “Don’t be so sure.” His voice drops into something darker, something less human. “If you saw my real form, you’d beg for mercy, Elysia.”

  I meet his gaze without flinching.

  “Doesn’t matter,” I say, unwavering. “You’re still Azazel. A creep and a pervert.”

  A smirk tugs at my lips as I challenge him.

  His grip loosens. Then, after a beat, he lets go.

  I press a finger against his chest, pushing slightly. “Why the hell did you kiss me? That was so unnecessary.”

  “Simply because I could,” he says smoothly. “I am the Demon Lord, after all.”

  I jab my finger into his chest harder. “I don’t care if you’re the Demon Lord—you don’t get to use me as you please, do you hear me?”

  Azazel exhales, shaking his head. “Yes, you are right.”

  For a moment, silence lingers.

  Then, his crimson eyes meet mine again—softer this time, almost contemplative.

  “But, Elysia…” His voice lowers, losing its usual teasing edge. “At least you’re not scared anymore.”

  I blink, taken aback.

  I let his words sink in, glancing around.

  He’s right.

  I’m no longer trembling, no longer frozen in fear of the monstrous Guardians looming in the distance. The sheer anger I felt burned away the panic, grounding me in the moment.

  I let out a small huff. “Tch. Doesn’t change the fact that what you did was wrong.”

  “And?”.

  “And what?”

  “The kiss.” His smirk widens. “How was it?”

  I groan, rolling my eyes. “Hollow. Don’t even think about it. You’re not my type. Look for love somewhere else, got it?”

  “It hurts” his voice dripping sarcasm

  I sigh, turning my attention forward. As we walk, my eyes take in the massive walls ahead—dark, metallic, and towering. There are no symbols, no grand decorations. Just sheer, cold iron.

  A place that looks more like a prison than an entrance.

  I see them. The wisps—or what I think are souls—floating toward the structure. Silent, aimless.

  My stomach churns.

  “…How do we get in?” I ask, my voice quieter now.

  “Through the main office.”

  As we step through the grand doors, the sight waiting inside is enough to make my vision blur.

  Real demons.

  Not the half-humanoid, charming ones like Azazel or Elene. No. Real demons.

  Grotesque. Towering. Ancient.

  My stomach twists violently.

  My breath catches.

  The air feels wrong.

  Dark spots creep into my vision.

  I stagger.

  Azazel’s voice reaches me, distant, amused—

  “Wow. You’re weaker than I thought.”

  And then—

  Darkness.