MR. SALVADOR’S POV

"SIR!"

I rubbed my temples, already feeling the weight of the day, and nodded for my underling to continue.

“Demon gave an order. You have to approve this,” he said, holding out a stack of papers.

I sighed, taking them and unfolding the first sheet. In bold letters, the words "Sky Heaven" were written on a sketch of an elaborate tower surrounded by a skyway. It looked like something straight out of a futuristic city.

Then, underneath, I noticed a scribbled note: "Not this one. Look at the back."

I flipped the paper over and frowned at the crude sketch. "Tower of Hell" was scrawled across the top. Unlike Sky Heaven, this one was more rugged and medieval-looking, but I had to admit, it had its own twisted charm.

“Torn,” I muttered under my breath.

“Aaaaaahhhhh!!” My underling shrieked, frantically gathering the torn edges of the papers, trying to piece them back together. He looked terrified, fumbling as he struggled to salvage the sketches.

I sighed again, heavier this time. Hyra must be messing with me. If she really wanted to build that tower, she didn’t need my approval. Why even bother sketching on the back of the paper? Was she saving paper now?

Three days. It had been three days since she arrived, and in that time, I hadn’t had a single moment of proper rest. Chaos followed her everywhere, and I, the supposed president of this country, had to pretend I was afraid of her—had to act like I was simply following her orders. I hadn’t even seen her face-to-face yet, and honestly, I was hoping to avoid it for a little longer—

"D-DEMON?!"

My underling's panicked voice jolted me back to reality. He quickly bowed low, trembling in front of her.

And speaking of the devil, there she was. Demon. Casually walking into my office like it was her own personal living room. I had just been thinking that I didn't want to see her for the time being.

"Hi," she said, with a playful smirk, not bothering to stand on ceremony. She sauntered over to the sofa and plopped down, kicking her feet up onto my table. She leaned back, completely relaxed, like she didn’t have a care in the world.

Of course. Of course, she does this.

I stared at her, forcing a smile, but internally I could feel the stress mounting. She had been driving me mad with her ridiculous demands and chaotic plans. I couldn't even tell what was serious anymore.

"Comfortable?" I asked, trying not to sound sarcastic as I massaged my aching temples.

“Oh, very,” she said, grinning, lazily leaning back and wiggling her toes. “Nice sofa. You should thank me for choosing it. It suits your office.”

I blinked, holding back a sigh. Thank her?

"Demon," I started, trying to keep my voice steady, "about these plans..." I gestured to the torn sketches on my desk, the pieces barely held together by my poor underling's frantic attempts to fix them.

She tilted her head, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "What about them?"

“Well, I’m just wondering,” I said, forcing calm, “why are there two different designs? And why—” I glanced at the torn papers again, “why did you sketch on both sides?”

“Oh, that,” she waved her hand dismissively. “I couldn’t decide if I wanted to build the Tower of Hell or the Sky Heaven. Both have their perks, don’t you think?”

“Perks?” I echoed, barely keeping the exasperation out of my voice. “This isn’t some playground, Demon. You can’t just—"

She cut me off, sitting up suddenly and leaning forward with a gleeful look in her eyes. “But I can! I can do anything I want, Salvy.”

*Salvy.* Of all the things...

“You know,” she added with a chuckle, “I thought about flipping a coin, but then I figured, why not make you decide? It's more fun that way.” She stretched lazily, grinning. "Besides, you are the president. You should make some decisions, right?"

I opened my mouth, about to retort, but she just kept talking.

“Oh! And don’t worry about those papers.” She waved her hand again. “You don’t actually need to approve them. I’ll just build whichever one I feel like, depending on my mood tomorrow.”

I stared at her, completely at a loss for words. This woman... this girl was running the entire country into chaos, and she had the nerve to act like it was all a game to her.

Why me?

She noticed my silence and smiled slyly, leaning back into the sofa again. "You’re not mad, are you, Salvy? Come on, relax. You look like you’re going to explode.”

I clenched my fists under the desk, forcing myself to breathe. She was doing this on purpose. She knew exactly how to push my buttons, and she was enjoying every second of it.

Three days, I reminded myself. Three days without sleep because of her.

"No, Demon," I finally said, my voice strained. "I'm not mad."

"Good!" She beamed, clearly not believing a word. "Because if you’re mad, it makes it less fun for me."

I groaned inwardly. I needed to get her out of my office before I lost my composure entirely.

"Demon," I said as calmly as I could manage, "I appreciate your enthusiasm, but could you please let me handle this? Just for a moment of peace?"

She grinned wickedly. "Peace? There’s no peace with me, Salvy. You should know that by now."

And with that, she stood up, stretched lazily, and sauntered out of the office, leaving me with torn sketches, a headache, and a sinking feeling that this was only the beginning.

---

It had only been a day since Demon and I officially met in person, and now here I was, standing with her again, about to be roped into another one of her grand schemes. She was hell-bent on starting the construction of the Tower of Hell, and to my dismay, she had decided that "I" would oversee all the details and lead the project.

Great. Just what I need—another massive responsibility.

I surveyed the destruction around us. It had been three days since the last attack, but there were still smoldering patches of fire scattered around the city, refusing to be fully extinguished. The air smelled of smoke and ash, remnants of the chaos Demon had been orchestrating from behind the scenes.

“Tower of Hell, huh?” Ethan’s voice cut through my thoughts. I glanced at him. He was holding a copy of the tower’s architectural sketch, his expression half-amused, half-concerned.

“How many years will it take to build?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I took a deep drag from my cigarette, exhaling slowly before answering. “With the level of detail in this architecture? A long time. This isn't your average project. It'll take years to complete.” Ethan leaned forward and lit my cigarette with a flick of his lighter.

The design was intricate—almost too intricate. Every corner, every beam, every inch of this tower had been meticulously planned, down to the material itself. The Tower of Hell wasn’t just a name; if Demon's plan went through, even the most powerful bombs couldn’t dent this monstrosity.

She wasn’t building just a tower—she was creating a fortress, something that would withstand any attack.

Ethan chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “You know what’s funny? She only found out about the enemy’s Sky Heaven tower project three days ago—three days ago—and she decided that same day to build the Tower of Hell.”

I let out a long sigh. Ahh, fuck you, Demon.

It was just like her to come up with something so grand and impulsive, but that didn’t make it any less of a headache for me. She moved fast—too fast sometimes.

“Of course she did,” I muttered, watching as Ethan studied the sketch again. The intricate towers and walls, the materials she planned to use... it was clear that Demon had thought this through, even if she had only decided on it recently. Her unpredictability was part of her power, and somehow, she always managed to turn chaos into control.

The fires continued to burn in the distance, embers glowing faintly against the backdrop of a sky still darkened by smoke. In a way, it suited her—a constant, smoldering presence that could explode at any moment.

“I don’t envy you, Salvador,” Ethan remarked, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Leading this project… it’s going to be a nightmare.”

I took another drag, blowing smoke into the air. “Nightmare is an understatement,” I grumbled, feeling the weight of the task already crushing my shoulders. Tower of Hell. The name was fitting.

But even as I cursed under my breath, I couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of awe at Demon's ability to push forward with such a vision. If she managed to pull this off, the Tower of Hell would stand as a testament to her power, her control, and the fear she could instill in the hearts of anyone who dared oppose her.

I glanced over at Ethan, who was still engrossed in the sketch. He seemed just as conflicted as I was—half impressed, half terrified.

“She’s not playing around this time,” I said quietly, and Ethan nodded in agreement.

“No,” he replied, his voice low. “She’s not. And neither should we be.”

THIRD PERSON'S POV

"Master... Master—"

"Calm down. Catch your breath before speaking," a man standing on the rooftop said in a composed tone, his eyes surveying the chaos below—the chaos that now belonged to Demon.

"Master," the underling panted, "Demon... she’s halted the construction of Sky Heaven. She’s replacing it with the Tower of Hell."

"Tower of Hell?"

"Yes. She knows the Elders are behind the Sky Heaven project, and she’s determined to stop it," Claire added as she approached the man on the rooftop. Her voice was steady, but there was a hint of urgency in her steps as she stood next to him.

Shawn—known to some as Ice—didn't flinch. He had been waiting for this. "Since the moment they locked me in that lab, I’ve been preparing for this day." His voice was cold, his gaze fixed on the horizon, where the fires of Demon's rule still smoldered. "I've been planning how to kill her."

The silence that followed was thick with tension. Claire bit her lip, knowing that Ice’s hatred for Demon ran deep—far deeper than anyone could imagine. It wasn’t fear that had kept him from striking sooner. It was preparation, calculation. He had waited, biding his time, sharpening his anger into something lethal.

From that lab where they experimented on him, Ice had watched everything unfold—watched as Demon seized control, watched as the masks fell one by one, consumed by the chaos she created. Each death only fanned the flames of his rage, fueling his desire for revenge.

Demon was no longer just an adversary. She was his obsession.

The person who once held his heart had become the very thing that shattered his world—the one who murdered his mother, the one who set the country ablaze with her ruthless ambition. The woman he once loved was now the source of his darkest hatred.

"Maniego..." Ice could still hear her voice in his mind, the way she used to call his name— back then, before she became Demon.

"Maniego~" she used to say in that soft, teasing tone. The memories came flooding back—of the times they were happy, before everything descended into madness.

Ice closed his eyes, the weight of the past heavy on his chest. But when he opened them again, the warmth was gone, replaced by the steely resolve that had kept him alive through the torture and the pain.

“Demon... I will kill you,” Ice whispered, his voice as cold as the name he now bore. His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles white with tension. The rage he had kept bottled up for so long was now seething beneath the surface, ready to erupt.

Claire, sensing the rising fury in him, placed a hand on his arm. "Shawn... we can’t just rush into this. You know how dangerous she is. We need a solid plan."

"I don’t care how dangerous she is," Ice growled, shaking her hand off. His eyes burned with hatred, with a hunger for vengeance that no plan could extinguish. "She’s destroyed everything. And now, it’s her turn to be destroyed."

The flames from the city below flickered in the reflection of his eyes. It was the same fire that had consumed his life—the same fire that now burned in his heart, pushing him toward the inevitable confrontation.

The time for waiting was over.

---

"A-chooo!" Demon wiped her nose with the back of her hand, an amused grin spreading across her face.

"Don't tell me the great Demon gets sick too?" Jarvis teased, not taking his eyes off her as he shuffled through the blueprints.

Demon leaned back, her legs draped over the armrest of the sofa, looking completely unbothered. "I got chills. Maybe someone’s talking about me, plotting my downfall." She tilted her head, a playful glint in her eyes.

"Of the many people who want you dead, which one this time?" Jarvis asked, his tone half-joking, half-serious.

Demon paused, tapping her chin thoughtfully before smirking. "Perhaps... Maniego?"

The room fell silent. Jarvis froze, his movements stilled as if her words had struck a nerve. Maniego. The name hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the past and the storm brewing on the horizon. He knew better than anyone what the return of Ice, could mean. His arrival was more than just an enemy coming back—it was a sign. A sign that Demon's elaborate plans were drawing closer to fruition.

He glanced at Demon, who was now chuckling softly to herself. Her laughter was light, but it carried a dark undercurrent. She was always so casual about everything, so unflinching, even when discussing the man who once loved her and now sought her death. For all her bravado, though, Jarvis sensed something deeper—a twisted thrill. The idea of Ice coming for her didn’t frighten Demon. If anything, it excited her.

"Ice, huh?" Jarvis finally muttered, setting the papers aside. He studied her carefully. "You don't seem worried."

"Why should I be?" Demon shrugged, looking out the window toward the burning skyline of the city. "He's part of the plan too, whether he knows it or not."

Jarvis frowned. "You think you can control him? He hates you more than anything."

Demon's smile widened, her red eyes gleaming. "I don’t need to control him. I just need him to play his part, and he will—because he’s too blinded by rage to realize it."

Jarvis stood there, a knot forming in his chest. He had seen many sides of Demon, but this—this was her at her most dangerous. Confident, cunning, and fully aware of the chaos she wielded like a weapon. There was something unsettling about her calmness, her absolute certainty that no matter what Ice, or anyone else, threw her way, she would come out on top.

"You’re insane, you know that?" Jarvis muttered under his breath.

"Insane? No." Demon slowly rose from the sofa, stretching her arms as if she had all the time in the world. "Just… unstoppable."

She walked over to the window, gazing at the world she had ravaged. Her reflection glinted back at her in the glass, the image of a woman who had embraced the chaos she’d created. "Ice will come. He’ll try to kill me. And when he does, he’ll realize too late that he’s been playing into my hands all along."

Jarvis watched her from behind, the weight of her words sinking in. Demon was always several steps ahead, and even those closest to her never knew the full extent of her plans. And Ice... if he thought he could take her down, he was gravely mistaken.

But still, Jarvis couldn't shake the unease settling in his gut. There was something about Ice’s return that felt different. Something that even Demon, with all her foresight, might not be fully prepared for.

"Just don’t underestimate him," Jarvis warned softly. "He’s not the same man you once knew."

Demon turned to face him, a wicked smile curling her lips. "Neither am I."

---

“Where is she? Why didn’t you watch over her?” the President barked, his voice trembling with both anger and panic. Reports had just come in—Demon was missing, or to be more accurate, she had run off, wandering who knew where. His blood pressure spiked as his mind raced with the potential disasters she could trigger. Every time she made a mess, it fell on him to clean it up. More work. More headaches.

“Open the screen. She’s in the news,” Ethan said calmly, as if this were nothing new to him.

The room buzzed as the screen flickered to life, and there she was—Demon, seated in the middle of a daycare surrounded by three-year-olds. A chill swept through the room. Everyone knew what she was capable of, and the idea of her being around children, vulnerable and defenseless, sent a wave of dread through the air. The only thing they could do now was pray she wouldn’t hurt the kids. No one dared move against her, knowing full well they wouldn’t stand a chance.

“What the hell is she doing there?” Kurt, who had just entered with Saphora, asked in shock. His eyes flickered with unease as he took in the scene on the screen.

“Warning everyone that she can kill even innocent children?” Saphora murmured grimly.

Ethan crossed his arms, watching with dark amusement. “Obviously, she’s looking for her next target to wear a Mask.”

---

"Hello, everyone!" Demon chimed, her voice dripping with unsettling cheerfulness. She sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by the children, and began singing nursery rhymes with them. Her presence was oddly captivating; the children were drawn to her, completely unaware of the deadly aura she exuded.

One little boy, his wide eyes fixed on her, broke the silence. "What's your name?" he asked, his innocence cutting through the tension.

“Seve,” the boy answered without hesitation, his tiny hand reaching out to touch her cheek. “Pretty,” he murmured softly.

Demon’s expression flickered for a moment, caught off guard by the boy’s boldness. But she quickly regained her composure. "My dear Seve," she said, her voice lowering to a dangerous whisper, "don’t be fooled by the beauty of a face. You don’t know that the person in front of you could be a demon." Her finger tapped the boy’s forehead gently. “Never trust easily. Question everything—that’s how you survive in this world.”

Seve didn’t flinch. He stared up at her, his eyes wide but unwavering. “I know you’re bad... but you’re beautiful. If you were kind, you’d be an angel sent to earth.”

For a split second, Demon’s eyes widened before she stifled a laugh. This kid...

"You know I’m bad? Aren’t you afraid?" she asked, her voice soft but dangerous, her red eyes piercing through the boy.

"I'm not afraid because you're beautiful."

Demon’s face twisted into a frown. This brat is... odd. She leaned in closer, her lips hovering just inches from his ear. “Are you sure you're only three years old?" she whispered, her voice like a hiss of smoke.

Standing up, Demon glanced around at the other children, who were now staring at her with wide, curious eyes. “Until we meet again, little ones. Goodbye.” She waved dismissively, turning her back on them.

“Goodbye!!” the children chorused, their innocence stark against the tension in the air.

Just as she was about to leave, Seve’s voice rang out. “When I grow up, I will find you! Please stay alive!”

Demon paused for a moment but didn’t turn back. She walked out of the daycare with a smirk tugging at her lips, amused by the odd little boy who, despite his age, had the gall to speak to her like that.

---

The screen cut off, and the room was enveloped in an uneasy silence.

“She was playing with them,” Kurt muttered, disbelief laced in his voice. “But the way she was talking... it’s like she was planting seeds for something.”

Ethan exhaled, lighting a cigarette. “Of course she was. Everything she does is for the future. She's always looking ahead, setting things in motion.”

The President slammed his fist on the table, his face twisted in frustration. “We need to keep her under control! She’s unpredictable. If she decides to target those children for her Masks... we’re all screwed.”

“She doesn’t need control,” Ethan replied, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “She is control.”

Saphora folded her arms, her eyes narrowing as she tried to make sense of it all. “That kid... Seve. Do you think he’ll play into her hands?”

Ethan glanced at her, a dark smile playing on his lips. “Whether he knows it or not, the moment he spoke to her, his fate was sealed.”

And with that, the room descended into quiet dread. Demon’s influence was spreading, and they all knew it was only a matter of time before the next piece of her twisted puzzle fell into place.

JARVIS'S POV

Hmm... she didn’t go to the daycare to make threats. Don’t tell me she actually likes kids? I watched Demon as she played with the children, a strange warmth creeping into her usually cold eyes. When did she ever have a heart for children?

Oh, Demon… so many secrets. How far can you carry all that weight? Isn’t it crushing you?

As I watched her laugh, singing with the children, a strange thought crossed my mind. What if Demon and Viper had a child? The idea startled me, a child born from two of the deadliest people alive. The sheer power it would hold... Fortunately, that's something that will never come to pass.

Speaking of children… I have one of my own. My daughter with Dos. She’s around three years old now, far away from all this chaos. Safe.

How? That’s a secret. Hehehe...

As I returned to reality, I heard Demon’s voice rise above the laughter.

“I love you, you love me, let’s go out and kill Barney~~” she sang playfully, twisting the classic rhyme into something dark, and the kids sang along as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

I shook my head, half-smiling. Looks like she’s enjoying herself. Well, I’ll enjoy it too.

It’s been too long since I last saw them. I’ll pay them a visit.

I turned the steering wheel, aiming for a secluded place, but something caught my eye. The Tower of Hell was nearing completion. Its dark, twisted structure loomed over the landscape like a monument to destruction. I can’t wait to see the results of that…

The drive didn’t take long. Soon, I arrived at my destination. I was greeted by men and women dressed in lab coats, their faces hidden behind surgical masks and goggles. One of them handed me a lab coat, gloves, and a mask.

“They’re all awake,” he said.

A wicked smile crept onto my face. Why? Why does everything that’s happening now feel so thrilling? So... exhilarating?

“Lead the way,” I commanded.

The man nodded, “Yes, sir.”

He led me down a long hallway before stopping at a reinforced door. As it slid open, I felt ten pairs of eyes fix on me instantly. The tension in the room was thick, electric. They were awake—and terrified.

I walked in casually, taking my time, savoring the moment. Cyrus, the most defiant of the bunch, banged his fists against the glass that separated us.

“You traitor! Let us go!” Cyrus snarled, his voice raw with anger.

I smirked, unfazed by his outburst. The glass was strong, reinforced—nothing they could do would break it.

“Good morning, my little fish. Are you hungry?” I taunted, circling the room like a shark. Their cells were like aquariums, clear and unforgiving, each of them trapped in their own private hell.

“Cut the crap, Jarvis! Explain this!” Nathan barked, his face pressed against the glass as he glared at me.

I sauntered up to him, leaning in just close enough for him to see my smirk. “You’re not exactly in a position to give me orders, Nathan. One wrong move, and poof—you’re gone. Just kidding! Haha, don’t look so tense.”

“Jarvis,” Carl’s voice broke through the tension, steady but seething. “You’re working with Demon, aren’t you? Where is she?”

If it weren’t for me negotiating with Demon, Carl’s situation would have been reversed. I was supposed to be the one in that glass box, but here I was, free and very much in control.

“Demon?” I feigned ignorance, shrugging. “Oh, she’s out there... sowing terror, as usual. You have no idea, do you? What happened three years ago...” I chuckled darkly. “She won. She owns this country now. She controls everything.”

The room fell silent. Their shocked faces mirrored each other, as if the gravity of my words was sinking in too slowly for their minds to process.

“What do you mean, three years?” Jared finally spoke, his voice shaky.

“You’ve been asleep for three years, or to put it another way... Demon put you to sleep. You were in the way.” I pulled up a chair, settling myself in the middle of the room. “Carl knew this. Right, Carl? It was part of her plan, but you lot were too reckless. That’s why you’re here now.”

Joshua’s fists clenched, his knuckles white. “Why? Why did you betray us?” His voice quivered with rage.

"Betray you? Oh, Joshua," I said, shaking my head with mock pity. "If it weren't for me, you’d be dead. Demon kept you alive, for some reason. You should be grateful.”

“Why keep us alive?” Kevin’s voice was low, almost defeated. “To watch her rule and destroy everything?”

I rolled my eyes. “Maybe, maybe not. Isn’t it better to stay alive and find out?”

“Tell me…” Sky’s voice was soft but insistent. “How is Demon?”

I smiled at that. Sky’s infatuation with Demon was always amusing. “She’s grown into quite the fine woman. More beautiful than ever.”

Sky’s lips twitched into a small smile, but it didn’t escape my notice. Ahh, so this is love? How foolish.

Nathan stepped forward again, his voice cold and resolute. “Will you let us go?”

I laughed, standing up from the chair. “I’m afraid not, Nathan. I’m part of the White Monarchy now, and I’ve been assigned to keep an eye on you. If I let you go, Demon would hunt me down. And I’d rather stay alive, thank you very much.”

Nathan’s eyes narrowed. His impatience was palpable. He wanted answers, but he’d have to wait, just like the rest of them. All of this has a purpose, but only Demon holds the key.

“I’ve got to go,” I said, turning toward the door. “I’ll let Demon know you’re awake. Maybe she’ll come pay you a visit.” I was nearly out when Stanley’s voice stopped me.

“Where’s Dos?”

I paused, turning slightly to offer him a sly smile.

“Who knows?”

With that, I left them in their glass prisons, their confusion and anger lingering in the air. Everything was falling into place. The pieces were moving, and soon, Demon would be back to collect what was hers.