The snow poured down like rain, thick and unyielding. This was no ordinary mountain—this was the crown of death, a place so cold and cruel that even wild beasts dared not tread here. Yet, there was a man.
He lay curled beside a dying fire, its embers dimming like the last breaths of a fading soul. Beside him sat a creature that didn't belong to this world—a beast cloaked in obsidian skin, its tail long and sharp like a blade, black horns jutting from its skull. Its eyes glowed a shade of crimson that screamed of blood and silence. No emotion stirred in them. He had seen pain deeper than death.
And yet, he sat beside the man as if the blizzard outside were nothing but a whisper.
"So… you're really going to die," Yura said at last, his voice quiet, his gaze never leaving the storm beyond.
Kim's eyes fluttered open, the frost clinging to his lashes like thorns. He inhaled a shallow, brittle breath. "Two days of silence. I almost thought… you were grieving."
Yura scoffed. "Delusions suit you," he muttered, ice threading through every word. "You should be happy with them."
Kim let the silence return for a moment, his eyes half-lidded. He knew better than to expect warmth from a demon.
"You know," Yura said, voice low, "once you die… I can finally return to Hell. And you, too, will be free from this curse."
"You always talk about Hell like it's home," Kim whispered. "Is it beautiful, then? Peaceful, even? Who knows… maybe I'll go with you."
His words sounded light, but they carried the weight of a soul worn thin. Only Yura could hear it—the pain buried beneath each syllable. For someone like Kim, even hell could be a paradise.
Yura didn't reply. His silence said everything.
He was no mere beast. He was the Demon King, second only to Lucifer, once sent to annihilate humanity. But one mistake bound him to a child's body—a vessel far too fragile for power so vast.
Kim had been nine when it happened.
He killed his parents. Burned half his village. Anyone he looked at… perished in agony.
He was turned into a living weapon—a child with no blade but all the blood. They used him in wars, left him in fields of corpses. He screamed into the night, his body breaking, begging… but no one came. No one ever came.
And when the war ended, the promised reward of a quiet life never arrived. They had lied. They had won—and discarded him.
He wandered after that, found a master, learned, believed again. But the story ended the same. The master left. Everyone left.
So Kim sealed himself away, far from any kingdom or battlefield, far from pity or prayers. He chose this place—this mountaintop where no beast dared go—so that he could die alone. Quietly.
Now, after thirty long years, the wish he'd carried like a thorn in his chest was finally being granted.
He welcomed it. Not with fear—but with open arms.
He was ready to sleep. To forget. To disappear.
______
"Wake up child?"
A voice stirred him from the dark.
Wait… didn't I die?
Words flashed through his head like lightning. His eyes flew open. The cave was gone.
"Can you hear me?"
The voice was clearer now—gentle, feminine, familiar and foreign all at once.
Kim turned toward it, blinking.
Before him stretched a lake so still it looked like glass. A lotus bloomed at its center, and atop it lay a woman. Her black hair spilled down to the water like ink. Her golden eyes shimmered with divine light. Five glowing orbs circled behind her—Earth, Fire, Water, Air, and Space—each sealed within delicate glass.
"You've suffered long enough, poor soul," she said, her voice full of mournful grace.
"So... I finally died?" Kim asked.
"Yes."
"Then… what is this place? Why am I here?"
The woman paused. Her tone softened. "Your soul cannot move on. Your memories refuse to fade… so your rebirth is impossible."
Kim furrowed his brows. "And now?"
"I learned of your life… your pain," she said, her gaze steady. "And now you are under my care. I must ensure you are… looked after."
"What do you mean 'looked after'? I don't want to live again. I don't want to reborn or whatever. I just want to vanish."
"You're lying."
Her voice cut through him like a blade.
"No one truly wants to be erased," she continued. "What you want is to forget. To stop hurting. But in new lives, people find new faces, new love… and the pain fades. And when it does, they start clinging to life again. The cycle repeats."
Kim said nothing.
His fists clenched. His nails dug into his palms. They always speak like my suffering was a phase. Like it wasn't real.
"I'm telling you—I don't want to live."
"Forgive me, child. But no soul can be erased so easily. Or rather… I don't have that power."
She floated closer to him, the orbs behind her spinning slowly.
"I am Runa, Goddess of Life. I was tasked with your soul. So here's my offer—I'll give you a new life… a new world. But you must promise never to use your memories to sow chaos. If you break that promise… your soul will be erased."
So that was it.
She wasn't offering kindness. She was pushing responsibility off her shoulders, handing him a second life with strings attached.
Don't use your past for chaos?
Fine.
A dark smile flickered on Kim's lips.
Runa narrowed her eyes. She could see it—the spark behind his calm.
"Be careful, Kim Kardashian… you may think gods are easy to fool, but we don't play fair."
"Is that so?" he replied. "Might still be worth the gamble."
Runa raised her silver bangle. Its runes lit up and stretched outward, transforming into a sleek cuff that latched onto Kim's left wrist with a quiet click.
"What is this?"
"A little reminder. So I can keep an eye on you."
Kim smirked. "How thoughtful. I was wondering how I'd send you postcards from the chaos."
Runa's face tensed. She floated back to her lotus and whispered, "Do not regret this."
The air beneath Kim shimmered—then tore open.
A portal swallowed him whole.
Gone.
Runa let out a long, tired breath. The tension in her shoulders didn't fade. Behind her, a young man appeared, radiant, three glowing rings orbiting behind his head.
"What do you think?" he asked, his voice curious. "If you fail him, you'll lose your title. Father's punishments have gotten crueler."
"You don't need to worry about me," she said, her form fading into light.
The young man chuckled, crossing his arms.
"Tough girl."
Earth. City-X. 11:27 AM.
"Hey, how dare you #+@$&8#;#;+"
"I'm -38-$72:(#($:"
"Brother +#8$7#:: me!"
What is this noise? What is this language? Did I drink something before dying?
Kim blinked as light stabbed into his eyes. Blurred figures surrounded him, leaning too close, speaking too fast. Panic seized him.
His heart slammed in his chest. His body moved before thought could catch up—he pushed back violently, falling with a crash.
"Argh!"
His head cracked against something hard. A warm trail of blood slid down his neck.
But pain was nothing compared to the fear.
He had to get away.
People moved toward him, reaching out—but stopped when they saw his eyes.
"DON'T TOUCH ME!"
The room fell silent.
All the noise—gone.
Only his breath remained. Harsh. Ragged. Deafening in his ears.
He stared at the ground, trembling. He couldn't look up. He didn't want to see their faces.
He already knew what they'd look like.
The same way everyone looked at him when they realized who he truly was.
A demon.