It had taken years of struggle, but finally, the results of her effort were before her. A strange exhilaration filled her chest—raw, overwhelming, almost frightening. She wasn't sure she should even be feeling this way, but it made her feel unstoppable, as though she was one of the greatest things to ever walk this world. She had done the impossible, what no one else could do.
The room around her was swallowed in blackness. It was no accident—this was the dwelling of the Dark Knight of Devildom, a being who could not live without shadows. Born from the void itself, he resided in a citadel of stone forged from the Nine Elements of Emotion.
Every living creature—human, angel, beast—carried those nine emotions. But demons… demons were born empty, hollow, devoid of feeling. The only exception was the artifact known as the Neeth Mind Stone, a relic that sealed within it all nine emotions. Unreal, otherworldly, and dangerous—it was said to be the very source of the curse that bound Devildom.
The world believed the curse came from war. But in truth, it began with the Stone.
The Eight Princes embodied one emotion each, threads that wove the very foundation of their realm. Before the birth of Devildom, angels and demons had lived in harmony. But twenty years later, peace shattered with the rise of a woman named Angelena—renowned for her beauty and her kindness, her presence radiant across the world.
Not long after, the first king of Devildom was crowned—a man grotesquely unworthy of the throne. Obsessed with wealth and beauty, he was corrupt and lecherous, the darkest figure in their history. Hated by many, despised by most, yet somehow he wore the crown none believed he deserved.
Meena awoke from her dreamlike haze. Reality pressed down on her—lonely, foreign, incomplete. Adapting to this new world was harder than she imagined. Its people, its culture, its emptiness left her hollow, as though the last fragile hope inside her had collapsed.
A man lingered in her thoughts—a stranger, mysterious and terrifying. His presence haunted her day and night. Her once-bright eyes had begun to lose their glow.
"No," she muttered to herself. "It's just a dream. I'll wake up soon."
She sought relief in the clear waters of a lake. Swimming always soothed her; her body moved through the waves like a fish. But suddenly the water froze against her skin, cold and unnatural. Fear jolted through her, urging her to flee. She swam fast, pulling herself back to shore.
When she returned to the dorms, a crowd had gathered. Cheers and laughter filled the air. Something was happening. Pushing her way forward, she saw two figures locked in combat.
Her breath caught.
Beelzebub.
Relief and joy flared within her at the sight of a familiar face. He fought fiercely, but then a brutal kick to his thigh dropped him to the ground. The crowd gasped as his opponent continued striking, merciless, unrelenting. Beelzebub's veins bulged with pain as he struggled to stand, his leg failing him.
The final blow was coming. The smirk on the opponent's face only fueled her rising fury.
Why did it hurt to see this? She shared no bond with him, not truly—not yet. But still, the injustice clawed at her heart. Her instincts screamed. Save him.
The man in white robes stood tall amidst the silence. His garments gleamed, marking him as not of their world. Not demon—Heavenly Clan. His voice was calm, soaked in arrogance:
"You demons truly believe you can defeat us?" His smirk widened, eyes cold with cruelty.
The crowd went silent. Their fear was heavy, suffocating.
"Wait."
Her voice tore through the stillness.
The man turned, locking eyes with her. His arrogance faltered as he met a gaze burning with unshaken determination.
A woman? he thought, incredulous. This woman dares?
He laughed. "So now, a woman steps forward. You saw what happened. Beelzebub himself couldn't stop me, and you think you can? Don't make me laugh."
The crowd murmured among themselves: It's hopeless. He is Necoluse, warrior of the Heavenly Clan. If Beelzebub fell, what chance does she have?
But she was not ordinary. She was Meena, one of the three women chosen by the Golden Mind Stone, bearer of a power feared across branches of Devildom.
"...Meena?"
Beelzebub's hoarse voice rose from the ground. His broken form trembled as he looked at her. His eyes were filled with both shame and relief, joy and regret. He had longed for this moment—to see her—but not like this. Not as the one protected.
Her gaze held him steady. Her eyes told him everything: Don't worry. I'm here.
And in that instant, he knew—unlike the rest of the world, she would never look down on him.