"I AM NOT SATAN...!"

Yuuta screamed, his voice cracking and echoing off the stone walls.

The ground beneath him fractured like brittle glass. Sharp fissures spider-webbed outward with each heartbeat, sending vibrations through the chamber. Thirty-nine people—twenty low-ranking agents armed with rifles and spears, three squad captains, six high-ranking guards, and Sara—were slammed flat against the floor by the sheer weight of his presence.

Not one of them could lift a limb. Some tried, but the invisible force pushed them down like a tidal wave. Glasses shattered on desks and shelves. The chamber lights flickered violently before plunging the room into near darkness. Dust and debris filled the air, coating everything with a fine, choking haze. Even the stone walls seemed to tremble, tiny cracks snaking through the marble as if the structure itself feared what it housed.

Then, as abruptly as it began, the oppressive energy vanished.

The room sank into suffocating darkness, thick and heavy, as if the shadows themselves had become solid. Movement felt impossible. Breath became a labor, and every sound—every scrape of stone, every startled intake of air—was amplified, echoing like thunder.

Two figures, however, remained unshaken.

Sara moved with preternatural grace. Born a vampire, her senses pierced the darkness effortlessly. Even without light, she could detect the faintest shift in the air, the tiniest heartbeat. Her Vampire eyes scanned the chamber until they locked on him—Yuuta—staggering, clutching his head in agony.

Elga, crouched low, exhaled slowly. The lion DNA coursing through her veins gave her razor-sharp precision and reflexes. Her muscles coiled beneath her uniform, eyes cutting through the darkness, nose detecting his location almost instinctively.

Yuuta swayed, his body trembling as though weighed down by a thousand invisible hands. Pain twisted his face, and he fell forward on unsteady feet, his hands pressed tightly to his temples.

"Please… make it stop!" he cried, voice raw and desperate. "What… what are these memories? Who… who is he?!"

Then, deep inside, something shifted. A glowing, spinning lock in his mind clicked shut, snapping into place with a sound that seemed to vibrate in the very air. The torrent of chaotic memories—the flashes of pain, faces, voices, and visions—sealed themselves away.

For the first time in what felt like eternity, silence returned. Darkness remained, heavy and stifling, but Yuuta's mind was finally his own.

He breathed heavily, sweat dripping down his face. When he lifted his gaze, the faint glow of his eyes adapted to the dark. Around him, the chamber was in ruins: shards of glass littered the floor, marble cracked and splintered, and the air pulsed with the lingering echo of power.

Sara Watching forward cautiously, every instinct telling her this boy was no ordinary human. Elga remained poised, muscles tense, every nerve alert. And in the center of it all stood Yuuta, trembling, unaware of the sheer magnitude of what he had just unleashed.

The entire chamber had fallen silent.

It was not the force of weapons nor the roar of battle that subdued them—it was presence. A suffocating, overwhelming pressure that made even the strongest feel like insects before a predator.

Yuuta's eyes darted around in terror, his stomach twisting as he noticed the ground itself fracturing, deep fissures spreading across the stone floor. His heart pounded.

"W-what… what's happening?!" he stammered, his voice cracking. "Is… is this an earthquake!?"

His desperate confusion only made the silence heavier.

Erika, her teeth clenched so tightly her jaw trembled, glared up at him through the haze of dread.

"You… still dare," she hissed, her voice sharp with rage and fear. "Still trying to play dumb with us?"

Yuuta's heart pounded. His gaze darted from the fallen agents and Erika to the cracked floor. Did… did I do this? The thought sent a cold wave down his spine. "No… no, you're misunderstanding again, I am a human!" he shouted, desperation breaking through his voice "It's must be Allen work."

But before he could explain, his fate was already sealed. The misunderstanding was deeper than words could fix. The only way out… might be his own sacrifice.

Every agent in the chamber wanted him dead. Their eyes burned with killing intent, but their bodies betrayed them, paralyzed by the unseen force.

Everyone—except Elga.

In her long career, Elga had known fear only twice. Once, before Chief Sara, whose power was unmatched and whose presence alone could crush the strongest will. The other was Special Commander Erza—her aura so overwhelming that no rival could ever stand against her. Unbeatable. Unchallenged.

Yet now… as Yuuta loomed above her, a strange, undeniable fear gripped her chest. His gaze, cold Red eyes, mirrored the helplessness she had once felt facing Erza. It was a look that said plainly: you are nothing but a crawling insect.

Rage surged through her veins, burning hotter than ever. She hated the sensation, the way it churned inside her like wildfire. Perhaps it was her lion DNA—her nature demanding dominance, refusing to be tamed—that made this feeling unbearable.

That realization didn't make her retreat. It drove her insane.

Because fear was something Elga had sworn never to bow to—so if Yuuta could awaken that fear, then she would crush him with her bare hands until there was nothing left to fear at all.

Elga didn't hesitate. The moment the suffocating presence lifted, she let out a roar that split the darkness.

"He's a monster! Everyone—captured him!"

Her voice rattled the chamber like a lion's roar inside a cage.

Erika reply came sharp and commanding, cutting through the confusion.

"Emergency lights—now! Seal the doors! We've found him… the Demon King's Master. Do not let him escape!"

Before Yuuta could even comprehend the words, Elga was already on him. Her body blurred in motion, a coil of muscle and fury unleashed. He barely had time to flinch before her fist drove into his stomach.

The blow was merciless.

Agony exploded through his gut, ripping the air from his lungs in a strangled cry. His vision went white for an instant as his body lifted off the ground and flew back like a rag doll. Then—

Crash!

The marble floor groaned and cracked beneath his weight as he slammed into it, the sound echoing through the chamber like thunder. His mouth filled with bitterness. He gagged—and then vomited violently, retching until even scraps of food tumbled out. Amid the mess, his dazed eyes caught sight of the very thing he had made earlier with such care: the Babarito sandwich.

His sandwich.

The one he had cooked, thinking of Mary and Elena. Thinking of his little Family.

Now it lay half-dissolved in bile, trampled under the boots of strangers who wanted him dead.

Yuuta's chest tightened—not just with pain, but with something deeper, something that burned worse than Elga's punch.

From across the chamber, Allen's chains rattled violently. His golden eyes widened, raw fury blazing in their depths.

"YOU DISGUSTING BEASTS!" he roared, thrashing helplessly. "LEAVE MY MASTER ALONE!"

But no matter how he screamed, the enchanted chains held him fast.

Yuuta staggered, one trembling hand clutching his stomach as he forced himself upright. His legs buckled, blood streaked down his lips, but somehow—somehow—he stood.

And then the lights came.

The emergency lamps hissed and flickered, flooding the chamber with harsh white glow. The shadows scattered, and suddenly Yuuta saw them all.

Dozens of agents ringed him in a perfect circle. Twenty rifles, their barrels aimed squarely at his chest. Spears gleamed in the cold light, swords drawn back, ready to strike.

Every eye was on him.

Every weapon waited for the signal to end him.

Yuuta's heart pounded so loudly it drowned the silence. His breath came ragged, shallow. His mind screamed run, but his body wouldn't obey.

And then his gaze found her.

Elga.

She stood at the front, towering, her muscles coiled, her teeth bared in something between a grin and a snarl. Her fist twitched with anticipation, still wet with his blood.

The agents around her trembled in fear, but not Elga. She looked at him as though he were prey already caught in her claws.

Yuuta swallowed hard, throat dry. He couldn't move. Couldn't speak.

He was surrounded.

By steel. By gunfire.

By hatred that pressed down heavier than any chain.

(Sara's POV)

The chamber was silent except for the sound of Yuuta's body hitting the ground. He landed hard, coughing up blood before retching, his stomach twisting from Elga's brutal strike. For a moment, he didn't even look like a threat—just a fragile human barely holding himself together.

And yet the floor beneath us told another story. Marble tiles, meant to withstand years of pressure, were cracked and broken as though some giant hand had crushed them. That kind of destruction didn't come from Elga. It came from something deeper. Something that had flared for an instant, then vanished before we could truly see it.

I narrowed my eyes, my thoughts racing.

Was it Yuuta? Or Allen?

If it was Yuuta, then why was he lying there like a ragdoll, vomiting like a sick child? Why bleed and gasp for air if he held such power? And if it was Allen—then this was just another one of his games, using his aura to deceive us all.

But no matter how I tried to reason it out, one truth gnawed at me: the aura we felt wasn't normal. It wasn't human, not in this world, nor in Nova. It was close to demonic, yes—but not the same. Older. Heavier. Silent like a void that swallows everything, yet vast enough to crush us all.

Yuuta's body trembled under its weight. He wasn't containing it; he was breaking beneath it.

So what are you, really?

Normally, I wouldn't waste time on questions. Suspects like this—I ended them quickly, cleanly, before they could become a problem. That was my way. That was the agency's way.

But this time, my instincts rebelled.

Because as I looked closer, through the blood, through the weakness, through the fear—I caught it. A faint scent clinging to him, ancient and unmistakable.

Dragon scent.

The realization rooted me in place. My heart skipped once, then steadied. Dragons were not enemies we could afford to provoke—not me, not the agency, not even this world. If Yuuta truly bore their blood or their blessing or any relation between them, then killing him would be more dangerous than sparing him.

I exhaled slowly and turned toward Elga, who stood over him like a lion ready to devour prey. Her fists flexed, her eyes burning with the thrill of the hunt.

"Elga," I called, my voice cutting through the air.

She turned her head slightly, grinning as though she already knew what I was about to say.

"I order you—do as you please but don't kill him."

The grin widened. Elga wasn't the type to kill without reason. She was a predator who tested her prey, tore them apart piece by piece until the truth surfaced. Perfect. She would find out what Yuuta was hiding—whether he liked it or not.

Folding my arms, I kept my eyes on the broken boy before us. My voice dropped, low and steady.

"Let's confirm it once more…Yuuta Konuari."

(Yuuta's POV)

The barrel of a dozen rifles pointed at me. The soldiers had moved in so quickly it was as if they had been waiting for the order. One squeeze of a trigger and I would be nothing more than a corpse on the floor.

For the briefest moment, I almost welcomed it. Maybe being shot would be better than this torture.

But then Sara's voice cut through the thought like steel. "Do whatever you must, Elga — but do not kill him."

Her order rang across the chamber. Soldiers flinched, eyes snapping to Elga. She towered over them all (6'7), a living cliff of muscle; many of the men waited, breath held, for her command.

Then Elga's voice boomed through the chamber.

"If anyone dares touch my prey today," she snarled, "I'll rip them apart with my bare hands."

Her words carried such weight that the armed agents froze in place. A silence fell over the room, thick and suffocating.

Only one voice broke through that silence—Allen's.

"Master! Just give the order! Let me tear that beast of a woman apart for you!" His scream was raw, desperate.

I didn't answer him. My body was still screaming from her earlier punch. I clutched my stomach, every breath like fire in my lungs. The blow had been so brutal that for a second, I truly thought my organs had been destroyed. Somehow, I was still alive—but it felt like I was hanging by a thread.

Elga hadn't even tried to kill me. That was the worst part. She wasn't fighting with the intent to end my life.

She was playing with me.

Like a lion toying with a half-dead prey, dragging out the fear before the final strike.

Around her, the other agents stared. Some with fear, others with pure hatred. None of them looked at me as human anymore. I saw it in their eyes—they had already decided what I was.

A monster.

I wanted to scream that they were wrong, that it was all a mistake, but the words lodged in my throat.

Instead, a strange calm washed over me.

I was tired.

Tired of running.

Tired of always being cornered and misunderstood.

Begging wouldn't save me. Running wouldn't save me. Not this time.

If I had to die here, then so be it. But I wouldn't die crawling. I wanted to leave behind at least one shred of dignity, something Elena could be proud of if she ever heard the story.

I clenched my fists, and before I could stop myself, a hoarse scream ripped from my throat. A pitiful war cry, but it was mine.

I charged.

Elga towered before me, a wall of muscle and fury. I swung my fist with everything I had left.

It connected. Square against her face.

Nothing.

Not even a flinch.

Her lion eyes narrowed as if I had done nothing more than brush dirt from her cheek.

"…Are you kidding me?"

My arm trembled. She stared at me the way a predator stares at a cornered rabbit.

"Where's that strength you had before Monster?" she growled, catching my arm in her grip. With terrifying ease, she lifted me into the air. "The one that knocked me down. The one that made you glow like some cursed star. The one you showed me Fear of death."

I struggled uselessly in her grasp. My feet kicked at the air.

"I told you!" I shouted through gritted teeth. "I'm not a monster!"

I lunged up as Elga hoisted me, throwing my head back and driving it forward in a desperate headbutt aimed at her lower chin jaw.

Smash.

The impact rang in my skull, but it didn't even faze her—no stagger, no cut, no sign that I'd landed a blow. Instead it felt as if my forehead had slammed into a stone wall. Pain flashed bright and hot across my brow, and stars exploded behind my eyes. My head reeked of blood and shame more than triumph.

Elga only smirked, as calm and unbothered as if I'd tapped her with a feather.

Her hand tightened.

Snap.

The sound of bone breaking echoed through the chamber like a whipcrack.

Agony seared up my arm, white-hot and blinding. My mind blanked under the weight of it, and for a terrifying second, I felt nothing in that limb at all.

Elga's face drew close, her breath hot with rage.

"Bring that creature out," she hissed. "I want to fight that. Don't you dare die before you show me that fear."

My vision swam, my body trembling, but somehow, I forced the words out.

"You'll… regret it… if you kill me."

Regret… that's what she said. Regret for what, exactly?

She had no idea about Erza, about my bond with her. And if Erza ever found out about the chaos that had unfolded today… there was no telling how violently she might lash out. This place… it would be obliterated.

Elga muttered, almost to herself, "I regret only one thing… that I could never surpass her, the Special Commander. And your eyes… the way you look at me… they remind me of her. Erza."

Her gaze lingered on me, sharp and disgusted. "And your scent… it's far too similar to hers. It… it makes me sick."

And then it happened hearing insult my wife, Rage explode me.

A pulse. A glow. A shiver that wasn't mine.

Something deep inside me stirred, burning against the darkness, and the cursed light flared again—coiling around me, whispering, clawing to break free.

Elga froze. Her eyes widened. For the first time, I saw it—fear.

It was only for a moment, but it was real.

Her roar shattered that hesitation. She slammed her fist into my face.

Bone cracked. My nose exploded in pain, blood spraying across the floor. My teeth shattered—several in one blow—and the impact hurled me across the chamber.

I hit the stone hard. The ground shook beneath me as I skidded to a stop, breathless, half-conscious, and bleeding.

The cursed glow flickered faintly from my eye, lingering in the air like a warning.

And in the silence that followed, the chamber seemed to hold its breath.

Elga slammed herself onto my chest, her weight pressing down like a living avalanche. Panic clawed at me as her fists rained down on my face, hard, relentless, each strike igniting sharp, searing pain. Blood poured freely, mixing with sweat and bile, and my wounds burned like fire. My body felt like it had betrayed me; I couldn't move, couldn't defend myself.

Her strength was unlike anything I had ever encountered. Every blow struck with the force to fracture bone, to crush flesh. And yet, she smiled—smiled like a predator reveling in the hunt.

"Come on," she taunted, her voice low and dangerous, "show me that fear more. Show me the monster inside you."

Around us, the chamber had become a theater of horror. The guards gaped, frozen in disbelief. Even Sara, who rarely wavered, hesitated, her hand twitching as if to intervene but restrained by caution—or something deeper she couldn't name. Erika's face twisted with shock and heartbreak; she couldn't comprehend what was happening, why I was being beaten so mercilessly.

My vision swam, the room twisting around me. Pain and exhaustion wrapped around me like iron chains, dragging me toward darkness. Every breath tore through my lungs like shards of glass. I could feel the edge of unconsciousness pressing in.

She didn't stop.

Each punch landed harder than the last, targeting my eyes, my face. Swelling and blood blurred my vision, dripping hot and metallic down my cheeks. I felt pathetic—so weak, so helpless. Born human, cursed to be powerless. If I couldn't even protect myself, how could I ever protect my family?

Then, cutting through the chaos, a voice rang out—sharp, mechanical, commanding. It pierced through the haze like a blade:

Then, through the haze, a voice cut sharply through the chaos—mechanical, clear, commanding:

"Welcome back, Special Commander."

To be continued…

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