If the smell doesn't kill you, the people might.
Lunaris didn't believe in mercy. Especially not in the slum districts. Between crumbling brick alleys and trash fires that never quite went out, mercy was a fairy tale the kind whispered to kids before they learned better. Kairen pulled his coat tighter against the biting wind thin, brown, threadbare, like everything else he owned. It didn't help. It never did.
A shout cracked the air behind him. "Hey!"
He didn't stop. Didn't look. Not worth it. Just noise. Probably someone getting robbed. Or murdered. Or both. Standard Thursday.
Above, the sky sagged low and gray, clouds clotted like bruises. The kind of sky that pressed down, like even the heavens wanted to crush this place. Smog, smoke, and memory clung to the rooftops. The guards on the corner barely noticed. Shiny pauldrons dulled with soot. Swords untouched. Eyes glazed. They weren't here to protect anyone. Definitely not him.
To them, slum rats like Kairen might as well be ghosts.
He ducked into a side alley, boots splashing through something oily. One hand stayed in his coat pocket not for warmth, but for the worn handle of a knife he kept duct-taped to the inside seam. Always be ready. Even that wasn't enough, most days.
The air here stank of old piss, fried meat, and desperation. A smell you either got used to or died choking on.
He passed a barefoot boy, no older than eight, crouched beside a barrel fire. Poking something half-burnt with a stick. Filthy. Hollow-eyed. The kind of kid you didn't look at too long if you didn't want to feel things.
Kairen looked anyway. Just for a second.
He used to be that kid. Before he learned not to hope.
"Everyone in Lunaris is either invisible or in debt to someone worse," he muttered, the words automatic. A mantra. A joke with no punchline.
And him? He survived. No dreams. Just smaller failures. No System. No blessings. No second chance.
He'd stood in line once, like everyone else. Cut his palm for the ritual. Waited for the glow. The moment of transcendence.
Nothing.
A bureaucrat in too-tight robes had looked at his ID, stamped "Unawakened" in red, and waved him away without a word.
"Lucky you," someone had said on his way out. "No power means no one'll try to steal it."
Right. Real lucky.
The outer market was louder than usual today. Kairen didn't like it. Noise meant tension. Tension meant something was going to snap.
He wove through the crowd past cracked stalls stacked with rotting onions, mismatched shoes, and fake system manuals with titles like Awaken Your Inner Monarch and Secrets of Sovereign Bloodlines all scams. Everyone knew it. No one cared. Desperation made fools of them all.
His stomach growled. He ignored it. Almost home.
Then hooves.
Fast. Thunderous.
The sound cut through the noise like a blade. People turned then parted. Screams rising too late.
A black carriage roared down the street. Sleek. Heavy. Gold trim, blinding. The noble crest of House Verrin gleamed on its side, mocking the soot-caked windows of the slums.
No warning. No slowing.
Just death on wheels.
And two kids maybe six and seven darted into the street.
"Shit."
They were chasing something. A ball? A piece of fruit? It didn't matter. The girl hesitated. Froze mid-step. The boy didn't.
Kairen moved.
No thought. Just motion.
He sprinted boots skidding on wet stone arms out. One breath. Another.
He reached them.
Shoved.
The carriage hit him like a war beast.
Pain detonated through his chest ribs snapping like dry twigs, shoulder wrenching backward with a pop. His body folded mid-air, a marionette with cut strings.
The world went sideways. Stone met spine.
Then stillness.
Distant screams. A crowd gathering. Staring.
But not helping.
Blood filled his mouth. Iron and salt. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't move.
His vision swam. Faces blurred.
The kids were gone someone had pulled them away. A woman. Crying. Blurry. Good.
At least they lived.
His fingers twitched. His legs didn't.
"I was supposed to walk home," he thought, numb. "Sleep. Maybe steal some soup…"
Not this. Not bleeding out in an alley while strangers watched.
No one called his name.
Because no one knew it.
Because he was nobody.
Darkness.
Not cold. Not warm. Just… gone.
No tunnel. No afterlife choir. Just absence. Like someone had turned off the whole world and forgotten to restart it.
Then —
> System Rebooting…
A click. A mechanical chime.
> Target Detected: [Demon King's Vessel located]
What?
> Soul Bond Established.
> Welcome, Your Majesty.
Kairen tried to frown. Or flinch. Or scream.
He had no body. Just awareness. Flickering. Floating.
"The hell is this?" His voice echoed without sound.
No answer. Just light now. Shards of memory, pounding into his brain like thunder.
A black throne on a floating shard of land. Cities in flames. Twin moons eclipsing each other in the sky. Crowds chanting. Armies kneeling.
None of it his.
But it felt like it was trying to become his.
Someone else had died. Someone powerful. And Kairen had walked into the open door they left behind.
He gasped.
Air tore into his lungs like fire. He sat up fast, coughing. Breathing. Alive.
But not in Lunaris.
He blinked against the light twilight purple and gold, bleeding through the canopy of enormous trees. Leaves shimmered with an otherworldly luminescence. A cold mist wound between the roots, brushing his skin like curious fingers.
Everything was wrong. Too clean. Too surreal.
Kairen stood slowly. Testing. His body moved. Better than before. Stronger.
His clothes had changed. A black coat hugged his frame. The high collar brushed his jawline. Boots that fit. Gloves stitched with faint red thread, symbols pulsing beneath the surface.
The ground beneath him glowed faintly not from the sun, but from within. Like the whole forest was breathing.
And then, in front of his eyes, something flickered.
A translucent panel. Blue-tinted. Glitching at the edges.
> [Demon King's Core: Vessel — Active]
> Skill Tree: Locked
> Titles: Blackflame Inheritor [LOCKED]
> Awakening Gauge: 3%
> Quests: 1 New
Kairen staggered back. "What the actual hell…"
Another line appeared, blinking red.
> Tutorial Quest: Kill a Sentient Being.
His stomach twisted.
This wasn't a dream. Or heaven. Or some afterlife fantasy.
It was a system.
And it wanted blood.
"…What kind of tutorial is this?"
The mist stirred.
Something moved in the trees.
Eyes watched him many, low to the ground. Clicking sounds echoed through the forest. No footsteps. Just anticipation.
Kairen looked down at his gloved hand. His fingers twitched, flexed, pulsing with something new. Not magic. Not exactly.
Something broken. Something hungry.
He took a breath.
"Alright," he muttered.
"If I'm in a story now… guess it's gonna be a fucked-up one."
He took a step forward.
And the forest answered.