A scream—raw, shrill—rattled the stained-glass windows of the cathedral. It wasn’t the first of the day, nor would it be the last. From the operation table, the Imp opened one bloodshot eye. Their body lay in disarray: one arm surgically detached and pinned like a butterfly to another slab, their eyes removed and gently handled by angelic scientists with gloved, trembling awe. Only their mouth remained untouched — a cruel mercy, granted solely to keep the symphony of agony flowing.

They see a figure from the corner out their eyes,

Eliza.

Of course she’s come to watch, there would be no other reason why she’d come here, “Is this enjoyable?” They asked, the singular eye narrowed and a sea of hatred was flowing throughout their socket.

“Yes,” Eliza answered, as if asked about the weather. “Invalia was a home. And homes… burn.”

A tear rolled down the hollow where their eye once was, not from pain — they had endured that — but from something worse. Eliza. Watching. Smiling. Justifying.

Their mind frayed at the edges. What was left to protect? What remained of dignity, of rage?

“Why must you do this, Me—”

The words never finished. The pain surged again, then melted. The light faded. And in the void, an old voice called out.

A memory.

20 AD

“Zero!!!”

A girl sprinted through the field, barefoot and giggling, launching herself into the Imp’s arms. Her eyes sparkled like the sky above, and her smile carried the warmth of a thousand suns. She wrapped her arms around them and planted a kiss on their cheek.

“Guess what I got!”

Zero chuckled, arms loosely wrapping around her. “I wonder what, Samiel?” they teased, returning the kiss with a smirk. The two collapsed onto the muddy floor, staring up at the unbroken blue canvas of the heavens.

After a moment of silence, Zero spoke—softly, nervously, as if the wind might steal the question.

“Hey, Samiel… have you ever wondered what’s up there?”

SMACK!

Samiel playfully slapped the back of Zero’s head.

“It’s obviously heaven, silly!” she giggled before abruptly shifting tone, sitting upright. “But more importantly, have you heard of the new system they’re adding to the world?”

Zero raised a brow, amused by the sudden switch. “What system?”

She leaned in close, her eyes gleaming.

“They’re calling it—Enlightenment.”

Zero burst into laughter. “What, are participants gonna become a Buddha and reach Nirvana?”

But Samiel didn’t laugh.

Her gaze turned cold. The joy drained from her face like ink from paper, and what remained was pure—unyielding—ambition.

“I am going to be the first participant of the Enlightenment.”

Zero blinked, their smile faltering. They tilted their head, still trying to resuscitate the jolly mood.

“You? You aren’t powerful enough to do anything—uh, not alone at least. But I’ll help you, of course! Just… tell me the rules!”

Samiel’s voice was a whisper of prophecy.

“One individual a year is chosen to drink a potion… something that grants infinite wisdom and power. A gateway to godhood. But the success rate is zero. It’s practically suicide.”

Zero stiffened. The wind grew colder.

“So why would you do this?”

Samiel turned her gaze to the sky—eyes no longer sparkling, but piercing.

“Because death does not oppose me. I’ve already conquered it. This… is just a quicker way to claim my rightful position.”

“…And what’s your fate?” Zero asked with a shaky laugh, trying to brush it off with jest.

She smiled again, but it wasn’t the same smile.

“To rule humanity.”

A scream—piercing, shattering the cold silence of the cathedral. Reality seemed to crash down like a blade.

Zero’s eye snapped open. The table beneath them was icy cold, the restraints biting into their skin tighter than before. Their severed arm twitched beside them, a grotesque reminder of the pain. The distant echoes of the past—their memories—faded like smoke, leaving only agony.

Eliza leaned in close, watching with detached interest.

“Reminiscing?” she asked, voice calm but void of empathy.

“Don’t worry. We’ll extract the rest soon.”

Zero spat through clenched teeth,

“Just thinking about how you weren’t always a piece of shit.”

Their screams tore through the room again, a haunting encore of pain.

Eliza’s eyes held no anger, no threat—only cold indifference.

“You were practically a slave—a disgusting, filthy Imp. I sacrificed my body too many times for you. You should’ve stayed dead but you and her both desire life..”

The heavy door crashed open, bursting under the weight of Thidos’ presence. He levitated down with effortless grace, his aura bending reality itself. The surgeons vanished, fleeing before his boundless power.

He glided toward Zero’s broken form, face calm yet inscrutable.

“Why did you give yourself up?” he asked, with genuine curiosity in his voice.

“What do you mean?” Zero muttered, breath ragged, body trembling.

“You could’ve left. Like she did.” Thidos’ eyes glowed as he spoke.

“But you lost control when you saw Amarze. Now I have a missing saint chasing someone already caught.”

Zero’s breath hitched,

“How do you know all this?”

“For years we thought you died. Turns out, you just kept your head down, slaughtering your fellow insects in the shadows.” Thidos chuckled, a sound both ancient and terrible, flicking his arms to conjure pocket galaxies in his palms. With a crushing motion, he squeezed them into a single universe.

“After this… Extraction, we’ve decided to send you into a labyrinth.”

Zero’s eye narrowed, the faintest spark of defiance igniting.

“A universal labyrinth. No escape. A prison for your nigh-immortality.” Thidos smiled, shifting his flawless visage to mimic Zero’s own. A cruel mirror.

“We know you aren’t truly immortal—just not worth the effort.”

The weight of his words crushed down harder than the physical pain.

“I thought we removed the tear ducts,” he said sharply, snapping his fingers to summon the surgeons back.

“We’ll take care of that soon.”

Patting Eliza’s head with cold finality, he vanished.

His last words echoed in the hollow chamber:

“Better luck in your next life…”

For a moment, Zero lay alone in silence—each ragged breath a vow burning beneath the pain.