Though she had emerged before the fallen Citadel of Stars, her rainbow-coloured eye reflected something else entirely.

An entity, who she had never before spoken to. And yet, who she was intimately familiar with.

“You are…”

“That is correct, small one. I am your Papa’s other possession… his other loyal servant.”

The embodiment of that thing. That concept, given physical form… not quite.

The Demon Sword had no doubt that that which was reflected in her eye was for her eye alone. No one else could see it, or even perceive it. Apart from, perhaps, one person, whose existence she was not even aware of…

“Ahh… Finally, another Aka Manah will be born…”

Rejoicing that her millennia-long plan was finally paying off… although there were a few parts that were different from the plan, the error pretending to be a feature couldn’t suppress her joy.

“The time has come, little demon sword. Now, together with me, it is time to sing.”

That thing, reflected in the demon sword’s eye.

The physical form of—

Indeed, of—

“And it would not do for it to just be you, o little demon sword… the rest of you should participate, too.”

The demon king’s castle itself spoke, making its intentions known to blade and Apostles alike.

“Take song. Right here, right now, the demon king will appear.”

From within the Hexagram, condensed darkness burst forth.

“Rise from slumber, my lord. Rise from slumber, for you mustn’t sleep forever.

The time has come for you to take up arms against all that which would stand in your way.”

The Hexagram whirred to life, condensing soul after soul into a physical body in a violent maelstrom of pure, terrible power. On the horizon, a shadow of the castle’s skyline shimmered into being, hard at work to make its lord a body.

“Ah, my lord, calm your heart. Calm your heart and believe. You have lost nothing. For, to begin with, you have owned nothing.”

The Apostles, too, opened their mouths and unabashedly begged for their lord to manifest.

“To own is to hold dear. You only own that which you would fight for, which you would love.”

“Ah, my lord! As you love nought, you own nought—come, my lord, take your blade in hand!”

“Reduce all any have ever loved to dust, and allow it to settle.”

“Then, take your blade in hand once more and harvest the grains of that very field.”

“That which was once created must eventually perish.”

“And that which has once perished must always return to life.”

“Ah, Life, giver of all things—return to the palm of the Lord’s hand,”

“Ah, Death, taker of all things—thou art now conquered and no more.”

It was the grand completion of the Hexagram. A spell to birth a God, using an entire nation’s worth of people as the sacrifice.

An unbreakable body, to be inhabited by the world’s greatest soul. Finally, her plan had come to fruition.

Out with the old, in with the new.

With the Apostles and the Demon Sword as the points of the Hexagram, it was the grand rite with the sole purpose of creating a miracle.

Emanation -

“Aka Manah—”

The song was reaching its end, and the darkness condensed further, further, yet further.

Birth of a God -

“Apotheosis—”

Six-rayed Star

“Hexagram.”

The souls, forced into shape and built into a body, began to radiate the demon king’s deepest desires.

The wish to turn all the world into himself had now taken form.

And—

“Magnificent.”

That system error could not refrain from expressing her admiration with a single word. This was certainly all as she had planned… and yet, seeing it in reality was still an unprecedented feeling.

“In that case, let us begin.”

The resplendent, terrible demon king, finally manifest in its true form, expressed its desire to get started. Nothing could stop its rampage. A wonderful sneer on its face, it squeezed its daughter’s hand tight. Its body was clad in clothing three-layered—a cloak over a military coat over a cassock.

Responding to her father’s wishes, the girl took the shape of a weapon that most accurately described its wretched soul. The Apostles took a step back, melding into the demon king’s Legion with satisfied expressions.

There were many things it would have liked to say, standing atop that horrible sorcery. But in the end, dreadful scythe in hand, it decided to point its attention to the drama that had been prepared for its sake. It had done so already for so long—at this point, there was no harm in seeing it through to the end.

There were many things it still wanted to ask, too. It was sure it was missing large amounts of memories and knowledge. How, exactly, it came to be in this position. Or, in the first place, who it had been before becoming the demon king—before being an ordinary soul in a mundane world. Its many past lives, and the very first of them all—

But those were all dull questions it could ask later. Or rather, it was sure it would find the answers just by ravaging the cosmos as its heart desired.

Even in its plan to take over the world, it had constantly been concerned with the most ‘interesting’ path to victory. In truth, it was always terribly bored, plain and simple.

And now, that would change.

It would ravage the cosmos, tear everything to shreds, and paint over the canvas of the universe with its own colour. It would destroy this law of solitude and replace it with its own.

Law of solitude?

Well, no matter.

For now, it had to identify its foe. Somewhere in the midst of that city should be the Thousand Throne, which it could use to call forth Luciel…

And, well, if she wished to send forth those four holy artifacts first, then so be it. An appetiser.

The spear which could pierce anything. The shield which could block anything. The bow which could strike anything. The staff which could destroy anything.

Ahh, I see. So you’re hiding behind things like that, are you?

Very well. Then, as you desire, I shall ravage them before I get to you.

“Let us welcome the new world together. For just a moment, let us pretend to be old friends, laughing together at the change of rules.”

The grand finale to end it all. It had intended to deceive her by letting her think she could mind-control it, but…

With a snap of its finger, it smashed the remnant of light still clinging to its soul. That plan was no longer needed, either.

“This is what I would call a revenge match, Luciel…!”

“Don’t you fuck with me…!”

For the first time, Luciel roared back, her voice filled with rage…

And she sent the four holy artifacts, wielded by spirits of light, rushing up to meet the demon king, standing atop its Hexagram still.

“Did you think to stall me with this? I fear it will not go so easily, Luciel.”

The demon king, rather than raising its scythe to block the incoming attacks or making an effort to dodge them, simply stood there, spreading its arms as if asking for an embrace.

The spear that could pierce anything struck the demon king’s neck, hitting a critical vein, but bounced off, unable to even cut off a hair. The golden, gleaming arrow of the bow that could strike anything fell to the floor mid-flight, and the staff that could destroy anything had its attack, but the spell was wholly without effect.

With a wave of the demon king’s free hand, the shield that could resist any attack fell to pieces, and the spirit wielding it disappeared into motes of light. The spear tried for another strike, but was not just repelled, this time, but shattered to pieces—an arrow was reflected, and the spell backfired.

“I had thought to amuse myself for a little with those appetisers of yours, but… how disappointing. I hope you are not as lacking, Luciel. Why not come up here?”

Even despite realising it was a cheap provocation, Luciel found herself following its instructions—there was no reason not to fight up there, where there was much free space, as opposed to in the remnants of the city, where she would find the buildings blocking her path.

“Just you wait, you arrogant scythe-toting piece of shit…!”

The goddess of light herself rushed up to meet the demon king head-on, forming a blade from what power she had left.

“In truth, there are a few things I would like to talk to you about, Luciel.”

Luciel rushed forth, her blade coming to meet the demon king’s neck—

“Just what would you define as your personal creed?”

The goddess’s blade and the Demon Sword clashed, the shockwaves alone powerful enough to destroy a city. In truth, it would not have been strange for the battle just to end with the first attack.

But it did not. Neither did the goddess manage to take the demon king’s head, nor did the demon king intercept and counter.

“Kh…!”

But she had no time to think about the reasons for such things. To begin with, this was not a mere battle between two people, and soon enough, that would start to show itself in reality.

“In other words, I am asking you what your goal is, Luciel. What would you define as your ideal world? Your utopia?”

The demon king’s counterattack was hardly aimed at any vitals. Instead, it hooked its scythe so that it would cut off an arm—

Clang—

Or, should she block it, merely graze some locks off of her golden hair.

“A world of eternal light? Endless freedom, where man can do as his heart desires? Perhaps the elimination of all sin by your just executioners? Surely you must have had something in mind. You went so far as to call on outside help.”

Having been summoned through the Hexagram, the demon king was emanating its ideal world into reality as it spoke. Its desire eroded away the natural order of things, the singular ‘law’ which defined this world, and replaced it with its own.

Yet Luciel was doing the same thing—her light was getting stronger by the second, bright enough to blind any mortals who happened to be left on this planet.

“In the beginning, all I wanted… was for that lazy ass of a goddess to get up and do something! Eternal isolation? Are you kidding me?! Fuck that!”

She spoke from the bottom of her heart as her divine blade clashed with the devil’s most wretched steel, again and again. A single microsecond contained more than five thousand slashes—this duel went far beyond mortal limits.

“In the beginning? So you changed your mind, then? I had no idea you were such a fickle woman. In the first place, can Aka Manah truly be formed like that?”

“Sure it can! That’s why I’m here, right now, isn’t it? A mere Angra Mainyu couldn’t stand up to Aka Manah, even if you had an infinite amount, all wishing for the same thing!”

“Hmm. So then, what is your new wish, the one spreading out behind you as we speak?”

With every crash, the shockwaves travelled down to the surface of the planet and further destroyed what was left of the once-splendorous nation of light. Even if there had been survivors of the crimson Apostle’s fire, they were surely long dead, whether because of the Hexagram’s soul-suckingly grand magic consumption or because of the widespread destruction spread by the battle of the Gods.

“It’s… a world of light! Where no corruption will be allowed to exist! Lust, greed, sloth, pride… all of it will be gone!”

“Hmm. How idealistic. But your words and your actions do not line up. You dirty your hands with blood for the sake of peace? Is that not hypocrisy?”

“No! In my world, I’m the only sinner! Apart from me, everything will be pure!”

“Oh, how beautiful. But I am afraid that is not quite how the Throne works.”

“What do you know about the Throne?!”

Though the two Gods were engaged in a duel to the death, neither of them seemed to be paying much attention to the clashes of their blades, despite the fact that a single bad move could mean a severed head or a pierced heart. And in the end, despite everything—

The two Gods did, in fact, share a goal.

Out with the old, in with the new.

Complete annihilation of the old law. As for what to do with that law’s owner—now that was a point where the Gods differed in opinion.

The goddess of light would stop at nothing to have that wretched girl’s head off her body, whereas the demon king devoted its entire existence to her happiness.

And thus, in part to determine that girl’s fate, the two had no other option than to clash.

“At the very least, I apparently know more than you do. But I shall allow you a chance. Attempt to bewitch me with your light. Perhaps you will be able to purge me of my sins and return me to the mortal man I likely once was.”

In plain words, “block this attack or this is over”.

Gathering all of its power into the tip of its scythe, it gently placed its hand on the blade—

Pure darkness erupted, like a violent bolt of black steel.

“As if I’d lose to this…!”

“Oh…?”

Using her own blade as a shield, Luciel blocked the attack. She suffered grave injuries, of course—blood vessels burst, muscles ruptured, her eyes were bleeding—but she survived its full power.

“As if I’d lose to your slaves…!”

“I believe you will find it is you who keeps slaves, commanding only their obedience, where I command my subordinates’ full, unbridled loyalty.”

Nonetheless, she had managed to break its assault. Its darkness lay shattered on the magic circle the pair were using as footing, in fragments too small to pick up.

Shattered like glass.

The indication that it was time.

Time to break free of the drama.

“Indeed, you have reached that level of power now… Enough power to allow us to break through…”

It muttered to itself in a voice barely loud enough for Luciel to hear. And swiftly, that mutter turned into—

“Ahahaha… ahahahahahahahahaha… ahahahahahahahahahahaha…!”

A surge of joyful elation, loud enough to shatter the very heavens.

“Guide me, o my nemesis… Guide me, to the very ends of this universe…! Show me to the Throne…!!!”

The fabric of the universe was already weakened. All that was needed was a prick from a needle and the centre of the cosmos could be tunnelled into.

And there was no going forward without first digging that hole.

May the Angels lead thee into paradise:

“In paradisum deducant te Angeli:

may the Martyrs receive thee at thy coming,

in tuo adventu suscipiant te Martyres,”

This world, with its nonsensical law, was beyond worthless. Nothing more than fodder to be destroyed. Rather than dedicate this world to its beloved goddess, it should destroy it and create one just for her sake.

This was no prayer to its Goddess, or her many-coloured Throne. Nay, on the contrary, this was a declaration, an address to the pitch-black, murky depths of its own soul, to squeeze out every little bit of power it had ever possessed.

and lead thee into the holy city of Jerusalem.

“et perducant te in civitatem sanctam Ierusalem.

May the choir of Angels receive thee,

Chorus Angelorum te suscipiat,”

A requiem for the old world. A song of mourning, a song of passing.

This drama’s scriptwriter was, frankly, a worthless writer, and thus it was time to diverge from that girl’s script and write its own story—perhaps even get her directly involved, not as a writer but as an actor.

and with Lazarus, who once was poor, mayest thou have eternal rest.

“et cum Lazaro quondam paupere æternam habeas requiem.”

To the back of the stage—

It had finally found the true person to test its might against. At once a solution to its eternal boredom, a way to gain a satisfying conclusion and to make its goddess happy.

The goddess of light, too, desired to finally end this disaster of a play.

May light eternal shine upon them, O Lord,

“Lux æterna luceat eis, Domine:

with Thy Saints for evermore:

Cum Sanctis tuis in æternum:

for Thou art gracious.

quia pius es.”

To repay her debt of gratitude to that girl who had so gracefully created her, she would cut off her head. To repay those many many years of torment at the hand of this world’s law, she’d cut off that girl’s head, too. And to repay the demon king for getting in her way, she’d cut off its head, too.

Eternal rest give to them, O Lord,

“Requiem æternam dona eis, Domine:

and let perpetual light shine upon them:

et lux perpetua luceat eis.”

She’d let nothing get in her way. A festival of decapitations to usher in her new world of eternal light, unending and unfading, for which she’d claim the Throne for herself.

With Thy Saints for evermore,

“Cum Sanctis tuis in æternum:

for Thou art gracious.

quia pius es.”

She’d bring an end to this farce and finally claim her rightful place as the ruler of it all, creating her kingdom of eternal happiness and bliss, obstacles be damned.

To put an end to this disaster of a drama—

Emanation

“Aka Manah…!”

The unending light and infinite darkness, both compressed into the tip of a blade, clashed, ripping asunder the fabric of the universe, piercing a hole through the canvas.

The only possible guide was the blade itself.

The daughter of the demon king, born only to kill all he instructed her to kill.

The world’s strongest blade, as well as the ultimate magical focus. In spite of her missing eye, and the fact that any blade she became would have a hole in it as a result, her strength had not diminished one bit.

“Papa…”

In truth, there was no simpler place to guide anyone to.

After all, the only place she needed to guide them was to Mama’s home.

“Papa… I’ll make you happy, I swear!”

Just guiding Papa and the golden goddess there wouldn’t be enough. She needed another person.

And that other person had been watching this whole time, so dragging her in should be easy enough.

Just you wait, despicable ‘bug’—Great Sage, Cyci.

I’ll drag your cat-eared head down with us into hell if it’s the last thing I do.

Beyond the hole in the fabric lay a world devoid of the basic concepts of ‘space’ and ‘time’. Yet stopping there would hardly accomplish anything.

More momentum… more, more, fast enough to break through the very bottom of the pit and reach the centre of the cosmos!

To the multicoloured Throne of the Prism, where that girl lay slumbering!

“... Ngh…”

That girl, her hair like a rainbow, started to stir as she was slowly shaken awake, her mortal Ahura—“Entropy”—crumbling to dust and returning its memories and soul to the proper vessel.

“Won’t let you get away…!”

And, dragged by the Demon Sword’s hand, the Ahura called “Cyci” shattered to pieces, too, its memories returning to the original vessel.

“Ah, I see… So that’s how it’s unfolded. This is… beyond my expectations.”

The chance birth of Misery, the living Demon Sword.

Without her, surely it would’ve gone as planned.

No, even before that.

She had never planned for the demon king and the original goddess to properly affirm their love for each other.

Had she underestimated the strength of feelings? Or perhaps this was a flaw she had unconsciously, purposefully baked into her plan, to make things more interesting.

It was of little consequence to her now. She was now back in her proper vessel…

And, more than that, the demon king was currently falling through the tunnel of memories, en route to her current location.

Surely, he would recall it. Everything. His first life. Their first meeting. What she had done. All of it. Her scheming, her carefully-concocted plans—

And yet, she found a smile on her face.

Was that it? Did she wish to perish by his hands as retribution?

Or perhaps, she had accomplished her original goal regardless?

It mattered not.

At this point…

The end was truly right there, resting upon the scales of the demon king’s heart.