"...You can't have her," Lucien growled within his mind. "You can take me, but not her."
The darkness laughed.
> "You don't understand, boy. She was never yours to protect. She was mine from the moment she touched the seal."
Lucien fought against the burning chains binding him. The fire licked his skin, but he welcomed the pain—it kept him anchored to himself.
> "I won't let you use her."
> "But she is the key," the Devil whispered. "And keys… open doors. Even the gates of the abyss."
Lucien screamed, summoning every shred of his remaining power. His soul blazed like a star trying to resist being swallowed by a black hole.
> "Then I'll burn this abyss down before I let you touch her!"
The darkness recoiled for a moment, but only a moment.
Then—
> "Let's see how long you last, heir. The blood moon rises in three days. When it does… she will open the Dead Gate. And when she does—"
"She will belong to me."
Back on the mortal plane…
Aira stood at the edge of the cursed forest.
It was midnight. The wind was silent. The world felt like it was holding its breath.
Then—BONG—the second bell of midnight tolled.
Before her, the trees shivered… and the shadows split open like a wound in reality. A glowing rift appeared—its center swirling with crimson mist and violet lightning.
The Dead Gate.
The Seer's voice echoed in her memory: "You must offer something irreplaceable."
Aira stepped forward.
The amulet around her neck pulsed once.
She closed her eyes and whispered, "Lucien… hold on."
Then, without hesitation, she stepped into the gate.
The world vanished.
And the descent began.
The moment Aira stepped through the Dead Gate, time unraveled.
Her breath caught in her throat.
The world beyond was not silence.
It was screaming.
Not loud. Not human.
It was the scream of every forgotten soul, every dream that had died before it was born. The air was thick with voices that weren't voices—whispers in a language only the dead remembered.
And in the center of it all, suspended in chains of fire and shadow—
Lucien.
He hung in the void like a fallen star, body scorched, soul bleeding, but eyes still burning with that same stubborn fire.
"Aira…" he choked out. His voice echoed in her bones.
She took a trembling step forward, the gate closing behind her with a sound like breaking glass.
"You came," he whispered. "You weren't supposed to come…"
Tears ran down her cheeks, but she didn't stop.
"I had to," she said, voice breaking. "You saved me. Now I'm saving you."
From the abyss, the Devil smiled.
> "Ah… the girl arrives. The key and the curse. Come closer, little savior. Let me show you what love costs in my world."
Lucien screamed, "RUN!"
But Aira did not flinch.
She walked straight into the storm, into the writhing darkness that rose like a tidal wave.
> "She belongs to me now," the Devil hissed. "You thought love was enough? You thought your sacrifice would stop fate? Fool."
Aira raised her hand—and the amulet on her neck cracked open like a heart splitting in half.
Light spilled out.
Not gentle. Not golden.
It was ancient, violent, holy.
The kind of light that knew the shape of darkness, and hated it.
The Devil shrieked.
Lucien fell, unchained.
But before he hit the void, Aira caught him—arms trembling, eyes blazing.
"You're not dying today," she said. "Not until I say so."
And from the rift, a thousand demons began to rise.
This wasn't the end.
This was the beginning.
The void trembled.
Aira gripped Lucien tightly, his skin hot with pain, yet he clung to her like she was the last truth in a world full of lies.
Then—
The ground split beneath them.
From the chasm, a monstrous form began to rise—horns twisted like thorns, wings made of ash and bone. The Devil, now fully unchained, towered over them with eyes that saw through time.
> "You think you know who you are, girl?"
"You think this light is yours to wield?"
Aira stepped forward, the amulet still glowing—but now flickering.
Lucien groaned. "You don't understand… He's not just after me. He's after you—"
The Devil grinned. "Tell her, boy. Or shall I?"
Lucien turned to her, eyes full of dread and love. "Aira… you're not just some miracle child who slipped past death."
Her heart thundered.
"What are you saying?"
He swallowed hard. "You were born of both realms. Your mother—was human. But your father…"
The Devil bowed mockingly.
> "Was mine."
Aira staggered. "No… no. That's not—"
"It is." Lucien gritted his teeth. "You are his daughter. The blood of the underworld runs through you."
Silence fell like ash.
Aira's knees buckled—but the light around her didn't fade.
It changed.
It grew darker.
Sharper.
More powerful.
And suddenly, she understood.
This wasn't holy magic.
This was balance.
Light and dark. Creation and destruction.
She wasn't meant to destroy the Devil. She was meant to replace him.
The Devil laughed, triumphant. "Now you feel it, don't you? The thrum of true power. You're not a savior, Aira. You're a heir."
But her eyes flared.
She stood tall, fire surging behind her ribs. "No. I am not your heir. I'm my own end."
She raised her hand, and the amulet shattered.
Lucien reached for her. "Aira—what are you doing?"
She looked back at him, tears burning her cheeks. "Ending this. For good."
And then—she turned to the Devil, arms open.
> "Come, father. Let's burn together."
Silence.
That was the first thing Aira noticed after the blast.
Not peace.
Not death.
Just a void where time paused and stars held their breath.
She opened her eyes slowly. Her skin glowed with cracks of molten gold, as if her veins were lit by stardust. Around her was no battlefield—no Devil, no Lucien.
Just a silver sea under a bleeding sky.
Was this the afterlife?
No…
Something shifted behind her.
She turned—
And saw Lucien, kneeling in the sand, chest rising faintly, eyes barely open. His name flew from her lips like a prayer. "Lucien…"
But before she could reach him, a woman stepped between them.
Tall. Hooded. Eyes white like the moon's core.
"You broke the laws," the woman whispered. "You merged light and darkness. Sacrificed the relic. Rewrote destiny."
Aira trembled. "Then why am I still here?"
"Because you are the rewrite."
The hood fell.
And Aira saw her own face.
Older. Wiser. Colder.
The woman—herself from the future—smiled sadly. "I burned the world to save him once. You're only at the beginning."
Aira stumbled back. "No. This can't be real."
"You think love ends a war?" the future Aira said. "No, little flame. Love starts it."
Suddenly, Lucien gasped—and the world around them fractured. The sky split, revealing a thousand versions of herself—some merciful, some monstrous. All choosing differently.
She screamed.
"Stop it! STOP IT!"
But the future Aira whispered, "One day, you will. When you're ready to choose not between light or dark… but between who you were and who you must become."
Lucien's voice reached her, soft and breaking.
"Aira…"
She ran to him, ignoring the cracks in reality, the ghosts of what could be.
She held him close.
"I don't care what blood flows in me. I don't care if I was born to destroy. I choose you."
And as their lips met—
The universe chose, too.
A blinding pulse shot out from them—warping time, breaking the curse, sending every shadow back to sleep.
But as they faded into light, a whisper echoed from the void:
> "The Devil never dies… He just waits for his daughter to forget who she is.