DEMON'S POV

“Well, hello, Joshua. Long time no see,” I smirk, pouring a cup of tea and setting it in front of him. “Did you know? Your son grew up quite handsome.”

“Mmph–hmph!” Joshua’s muffled protests make me chuckle. Poor fool, I think he’s trying to curse me. Too bad I gagged him so thoroughly.

I look around the room at each of them, bound and helpless, fury simmering in their eyes. “You all have children, don’t you?” I tilt my head, delighting in the flash of anger that darkens their gazes. They hate me—and I love every second of it.

“Oh, dear brother,” I say, turning to Nathan, “do you know I’ve got Megumi and Krystal...and the kids, of course.” I glance between Nathan and Jared, but neither of them so much as flinches. Resisting me? How adorable.

“Oh, right, my mistake! You all have children—except Sky.” I direct my gaze toward him, and he stares back with that familiar look in his eyes. It’s the same as when we first met, full of admiration. Even now, in chains, he can’t help but be captivated.

I can’t blame him. After all, I’m quite stunning.

I continue taunting them, each barb twisting the knife deeper into their pride, until suddenly, the door swings open. Clyde steps in, stopping dead as his eyes widen, taking in the sight of the bound district leaders in my room. Ah, I told everyone I was going to sleep. No wonder he looks so...unsettled.

"Ah, a guest, You didn’t say you were coming, Clyde. Had I known, I’d have prepared an extra chair—and maybe some rope.”

He's whispering.

“What brings you here, Clyde?” I ask, arching an eyebrow, but he mumbles something, obviously hesitant. Not good enough. I grab the axe from my table and hurl it straight at him, aiming for his head. He ducks at the last second, the blade embedding itself in the door behind him. Tch—my hand slipped.

“Tell me” I say, my voice laced with warning.

Gritting his teeth, he finally tells me everything, and I listen, feeling my grin widen with each word. Copies of me? Running rampant across the land, sowing chaos? A whole army of Demons? It can’t be. I didn’t even get to handpick them! What if some of them look...unworthy? I shudder at the thought.

Clyde starts to say something else, but I’m already moving. Blood rushes through me like fire, my pulse racing at the thought of facing these so-called “successful” clones. Success versus failure? I’ll show them what true success looks like.

As I race out, a thrill shoots through me, and I feel alive, more alive than ever. Today, I’m going to make them remember why I am the one and only Demon.

And I can’t wait to spill some blood.

---

**BOOM!**

I reach the city quickly, and the sight of burning buildings meets my eyes. So, this destruction is courtesy of those imitations? They think they can play my role? How adorable.

My hands itch with anticipation. I make my way through the ruins, drawn toward the chaos. Five figures wearing cheap imitations of my mask are wreaking havoc in the streets. My city, reduced to this by copycats. I grin, feeling that thrill rise in my veins.

“Help!” A woman’s scream pierces through the smoke. I watch as one of the imposters drags her by the hair, her face twisted in pain. How unoriginal.

From my spot on the third floor, I leap, landing a straight kick to the side of the fake Demon’s face. His grip on the woman releases, and she stumbles back, wide-eyed, staring at me as if she’s seen a ghost.

“What the hell are you waiting for? Run!” I snap at her, irritated by her frozen expression. Beautiful people like me always have this effect.

She blinks, finally scrambling to her feet and running, but not before giving me one last, confused look. Typical.

The imposter slowly rises, his mask cracked from my kick, revealing wires and metal underneath. A machine. They made them part robot?The so-called Perfect Project isn’t even fully human. How insulting.

“Who...are you?” he rasps, his voice glitching as he stumbles toward me.

I tilt my head, smirking. “Who am I? The Demon, darling. You’re just my failed shadow.”

Without waiting for a response, I close the distance and slam my fist into his face, feeling the crack of machinery beneath my knuckles. He staggers back, sparks flying from his exposed wires, but he doesn’t fall. I can feel the others closing in behind me, surrounding me in a wide circle.

“Is this all they could manage?” I laugh, taunting. “A bunch of tin soldiers? Pathetic.”

The fake Demon in front of me smirks, though half of his faceplate is caved in. “We’re better than you. We’re the perfected version.”

“Oh, really?” I say, cracking my knuckles. “Let’s test that theory.”

One of them lunges from behind, but I twist, grabbing his arm and using his momentum to hurl him over my shoulder. He crashes into the ground, a cloud of dust rising as he tries to scramble up. I stomp down on his chest, hearing the crackle of circuits, and I feel a rush as his body twitches beneath my boot.

The others move in, and I welcome them with a sinister grin.

The next one throws a punch, and I sidestep it, gripping his wrist and twisting it until I hear a snap. His arm dangles, wires exposed and sparking. I yank him down, bringing my knee up to shatter what’s left of his mask.

They start to hesitate, uncertainty flickering in their artificial eyes. I chuckle darkly.

“What’s wrong?” I taunt, stepping forward. “Not so confident now?”

I can see it in their broken, distorted faces—the realization that they are facing something far beyond what they were built to imitate.

“Perfection?” I snarl, my voice low and dripping with menace. “You wouldn’t know perfection if it killed you.”

With that, I launch myself into them, my fists a blur of motion, the sound of metal crunching and snapping beneath my blows. One by one, they fall, broken and sparking, left to rot in the street as I stand among the wreckage, breathing heavily, my blood singing with triumph.

So much for perfection.

---

*Beep.*

That’s my alarm—two hours of fighting, and these knock-off versions are still standing. Two hours, and I haven’t taken down a single one because they just keep getting back up as if they feel nothing.

The air is suffocating, thick with the smoke from the burning buildings around us. My body feels the strain, but I can’t stop, not now.

*Swish.*

A sudden shift behind me. Instinct kicks in, and I dodge, feeling the rush of air as a weapon misses my face by mere inches.

*Swish. Swish.*

Two more lunge at me from the front, too fast to fully avoid. One kick connects, slamming into my side and throwing me back. I hit the wall hard, the impact stealing my breath. Pain flares in my back, radiating through my ribs. Damn. That one’s going to leave a mark.

I look up, eyes narrowed, as I catch my breath. They’re relentless—half-machine, half-human, these “Perfect Projects.” Whoever designed them thought of everything, making them nearly indestructible. They move with a purpose, but there’s something broken behind their eyes.

Then I hear it, a voice just above a whisper, cracked and filled with something close to despair.

“Please…kill us.”

I turn, surprised, to see one of them holding a bat. He brings it down, landing a blow across my back, hard enough to make me cough up blood. But his words linger, overshadowing the pain.

“Please…kill us. We don’t want to do this. We can’t control it.” His voice trembles, and there’s agony in his expression—a trapped, desperate look as if he’s aware of every action he’s forced to take.

For a moment, my mind reels. They know. They’re aware, trapped in these bodies, living puppets in some twisted design. Anger flares inside me, but it’s mixed with something unfamiliar, something that claws at my heart.

*Swish.*

*Swish.*

*Swish.*

*Swish.*

*Swish.*

Five of them rush me at once. I try to move, but my body is still reeling from the impact with the wall. They pin me down, their faces twisted in expressions that betray a horror none of them can escape.

“End it,” one whispers through gritted teeth, his voice strangled. “We’re not even alive…we’re just—things.”

Their grip tightens, but I can feel their desperation through each hand that holds me down, as if they’re fighting against themselves. The world seems to narrow, focusing on their hollow eyes, the flicker of humanity left inside them. I wanted a fight, but not this—a battleground filled with ghosts who just want peace.

One of them locks eyes with me, tears welling up in his robotic gaze, a flicker of the life he was once forced to leave behind. And then he speaks, so quietly it almost vanishes beneath the chaos.

“Please… let us rest.”

THIRD PERSON'S POV

Chaos erupted across the country as Demon’s copies rampaged, spreading destruction and terror. Streets burned, echoing with panicked screams, while the military mobilized to contain the threat. Thankfully, most of the residents had already been evacuated to safety, thanks to the president’s foresight. But the tension inside the White Palace was palpable as key figures strategized their next move.

Ethan slammed his fist down on the table, his voice a harsh snarl. “Damn it, those Elders should’ve been wiped out ages ago!”

Around him, President Salvador, Kurt, and Saphora exchanged tense glances. The pressure weighed heavily on them, the stakes higher than ever.

“Demon is what they want,” Kurt spoke up, his gaze shifting uncertainly between Ethan and the president. “Why don’t we just… give her to them?”

Ethan shot him a glare, his voice low and fierce. “You really don’t get it, do you? Handing Demon over isn’t an option. If we do, it’s the end of everything.”

President Salvador nodded, his expression grim. “Demon isn’t just a threat—she’s our ace. She’s the only thing holding back the complete collapse of everything we’ve built.”

Saphora, arms crossed, tilted her head defiantly. “But isn’t she the one who started this mess in the first place? If she hadn’t pushed things, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

Ethan’s gaze hardened as he turned to her, his tone sharp. “And she’s also the reason you’re alive. Or have you forgotten that?”

An uneasy silence filled the room as the weight of his words settled in. Saphora swallowed, her gaze faltering.

Ethan took a steadying breath, then turned his attention back to Kurt and Saphora. “Instead of wasting time questioning Demon, why don’t you lead a unit? Get out there and do something. The South is being overrun, and they need leadership.”

Saphora glanced at Kurt, nodding in agreement. “Jarvis is already en route to the South.”

“Not Jarvis,” Ethan cut in, a hint of urgency in his voice. “Send him back. He can’t go.”

Kurt’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Why not?”

“Ice is stationed in the South,” Ethan replied tightly. “If Jarvis and Ice cross paths… it’ll be chaos.”

Saphora's eyes widened as she realized the potential danger. “I spoke to Jarvis. He said he’d just evacuate the kids from the orphanages in the area and avoid Ice altogether.”

Ethan’s expression shifted, worry creeping in. “We can’t risk it. Send backup to Jarvis immediately—now.”

President Salvador’s face was taut, the tension mounting as he nodded. “Agreed. If Jarvis runs into trouble, we’re putting lives on the line.”

The room sprang into action as the weight of their decisions settled over them. Ethan’s hand clenched into a fist as he stared down at the map marked with red pins, each representing a new attack by Demon’s doppelgangers.

They had no room for error. And as the fires raged outside, they knew that one wrong move could mean the country’s end.

JARVIS'S POV

I had to stay sharp. Ethan’s warning echoed in my head—Ice and Demon’s copies were in the area. Part of me wanted to confront Ice, but I knew I had something more important to protect—the children.

I’d brought them here, to what I believed was one of the safest hideaways, far from the violence and chaos. These children, rescued from a nightmare orphanage, deserved peace and freedom.

“Haha! Catch!”

Seeing them run around, laughing, was a balm for my heart. Each time I played with them, it was like being with my own daughter again.

“Mr. Jarvis, catch!” called Iona, a little girl who had survived so much and yet still smiled like the sun itself. Her eyes had a brightness that, for so long, had been lost.

I reached to throw the ball back to her when—

*BOOOOOM*

A deafening explosion shook the ground, the sound ripping through the air not far from us. I turned and saw the children, their laughter replaced by terror.

“Inside, now!” I barked. “Don’t make a sound. Don’t come out, no matter what.”

“B-but, what about you, sir?” Iona stammered, her wide eyes searching mine.

I knelt down and ruffled her hair, giving her the gentlest smile I could muster. “Remember the brave woman who saved you? I made her a promise—I can't die, or she’ll kill me herself! So don't worry, I'll be fine.”

“Please be careful, sir.”

“Go! Run!” I shouted, watching their small figures disappear into the house. Damn, they’re so young. Why do they have to live through this?

I turned towards the source of the explosion, my fists clenched, preparing to protect them with everything I had. But just as I took a step forward—

A body crashed at my feet, one of my men who had been guarding the perimeter. He was barely alive, his breaths shallow and labored.

“My lord… r-run…” His final words left his lips, his eyes closing forever.

*Swish*

Before I could react, something struck me with brutal force, sending me sprawling face-first into the ground.

“I didn’t expect Demon to have loyal underlings hiding here,” sneered a cold, mocking voice. I knew it instantly.

I looked up, pain shooting through my body, and found myself face-to-face with him—the Elder, along with Ice standing by his side.

“Oh, looks like you’ve hidden some people away in that little house over there,” the Elder taunted. “Should we blow it up, just to be sure?”

“No! Don’t!” I shouted, scrambling to my feet. My gaze locked onto Ice, who looked back at me, his expression stricken with confusion and betrayal.

“You’re… alive?” he whispered, as if unable to believe it. “Why are you here? How did you survive?”

The Elder scoffed, eyeing the mark on my arm. “Isn’t it obvious? Look at his arm—he bears the White Monarchy. He’s a traitor, siding with Demon.”

“Jarvis…” Ice’s face hardened. “Is that true?”

I opened my mouth to explain, to tell him the truth, but—

*BOOM!*

His fist crashed into my face, sending me reeling. Pain exploded across my cheek as I stumbled back.

“You traitor!” He threw another punch, then a vicious kick that landed hard in my ribs. Each blow tore through me, but I took it. I deserved it. If it meant protecting the children, I would take it all.

“Do whatever you want to me,” I gasped, barely able to speak. “But please… leave the house alone. They’re just kids.”

I dropped to my knees, every ounce of pride stripped away. I would beg if I had to.

But the Elder merely sneered. “Blow it up,” he ordered, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. “I’d love to see you grovel, Jarvis. Beg me.”

I lunged toward him, desperation clawing at me. “Please—please don’t do this. They’re innocent! They haven’t done anything wrong!”

A sadistic smile spread across the Elder’s face. “Why beg me? If you’re so loyal to Demon, maybe she’ll save you.” He turned to Ice. “Tell me, Ice, don’t you think he’s just being manipulated? We could still save him.”

Ice's face softened for a moment, searching mine. "Jarvis... did Demon force you into this?"

I forced myself to smile, knowing what my answer would cost me. “No, Ice… I chose this.”

His face hardened instantly. Another brutal kick crashed into my stomach, and I doubled over, gasping for air.

“Blow it up!” the Elder shouted, unmoved by my pleading.

“No!” I staggered to my feet, stumbling towards the house as the fuse was lit. I was too slow, too broken to stop them. And then, through the smoke, I saw her—

Iona. She stood in the doorway, her tiny hand raised in a wave, her lips forming the words silently, “Goodbye… and thank you.”

*BOOOOOOOOOOOOM*

The explosion tore through the air, swallowing her smile, her words—everything.

“No! No! NO!” I screamed, falling to my knees, watching the flames consume the house. The heat seared my skin, but it couldn’t come close to the agony tearing through my heart.

The children… those innocent children.

My hands trembled, reaching towards the flames as if I could pull them back, protect them, save them. But there was nothing left. Just smoke and ash. Just a silence that would haunt me forever.

I had failed them.

The world went silent as the weight of my failure crashed down on me, suffocating, endless. In that moment, something broke within me—a fracture that would never heal.

IONA'S POV

The moment I heard the explosion, I knew something was wrong. The other kids around me started to cry, looking to me for comfort, but I couldn’t find words. All I could think about was Mr. Jarvis’s face when he told us to stay safe, his gentle smile, and the way he ruffled my hair. He promised he wouldn’t die. He said it like he meant it.

I peeked out of the window, searching for him. I knew I should stay hidden, but I wanted to see him one last time. There he was, fighting for us, just like he always did.

I smiled. He looked so brave.

My heart pounded as I remembered her too—the girl who saved us. The one who pulled us out of that awful orphanage, her eyes fierce but kind, like she understood. I remembered her words when I cried after my friend was taken. “One day, Iona,” she had said, “you’ll be free. And you’ll know what it feels like to be loved.”

In the house, I was finally free, surrounded by people who cared. I felt safe here. But… now? A part of me knew, deep down, that this was the end. The Elders wanted to destroy us, to hurt Mr. Jarvis and the brave lady who saved us.

I looked at my friends, their small faces huddled close together, their tears glistening. They were scared, but they were trying to be brave, like Mr. Jarvis. I wanted them to know that it would be okay, that we had lived in freedom, even if only for a little while.

With a shaky breath, I closed my eyes, whispering a prayer in my heart.

“Thank you, Mr. Jarvis… for giving me a chance to smile again.”

And to her, the one who risked everything for us…

“Thank you, Miss Demon… for making me feel special, for making me feel like I mattered.”

Then, just as I mouthed my final goodbye, the world became a bright light, and all I could feel was peace, wrapping around me like a soft blanket.

And in that final moment, I felt safe—like I was loved.