The Devil’s Whisper

A deep, suffocating darkness wrapped around Johan as he drifted in uneasy slumber.

It wasn't peaceful—it felt as if something was pulling at his very soul, testing his limits. Faint whispers echoed through his mind, voices he couldn't recognize yet somehow understood.

"Greedy... slothful... undeserving..."

Johan's fingers twitched as his consciousness stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He was back inside the tower, lying on the cold floor. His body still ached from the fight, but something felt different—stronger, even. He slowly sat up, rubbing his temples as a dull throbbing pounded in his skull.

"You sleep like a corpse, dearest sinner,"

Amy's voice chimed above him.

Johan groaned, stretching his arms before glancing at the small, floating girl above him. She was hovering lazily, spinning in circles as if she had been waiting for hours.

"How long was I out?" he muttered, running a hand through his dark hair.

"Only a few hours, but trust me, Hell doesn't wait for anyone~" Amy grinned. "In the time you've been drooling on the floor, other sinners have probably gained strength, taken over more buildings, and some have probably died gruesome deaths. It's just another day here!"

Johan sighed. "So, what's next?"

Before Amy could respond, a new voice spoke up.

"Good morning, my King!"

Johan turned his head to see Fia, the young demon girl, standing in front of him with a bright smile. Now that she was free of her previous shackles, her red eyes gleamed with excitement. She looked cleaner, her once-ragged clothing replaced with something more fitting—a dark, gothic-style dress with subtle patterns resembling the carvings on the Hellish moon.

Johan nodded in acknowledgment. "You finished setting up the defenses?"

Fia puffed up her chest with pride. "Yes! The barrier is fully activated, and I've summoned skeletal guards at the entrances. No weaklings will be able to enter without permission!"

Johan stood up, rolling his shoulders as he glanced toward the broken window. The red glow of Hell's sky poured into the room, illuminating the grotesque streets below. Twisted buildings loomed in the distance, some glowing with eerie symbols, others crumbling like ruins. Groups of sinners roamed the streets—fighting, devouring, or doing unspeakable things to one another.

"This place really is a nightmare," Johan muttered to himself.

Amy chuckled. "Welcome to Hell, idiot. Now, let's talk about getting stronger~"

Johan turned to her, crossing his arms. "I already took out a Pride Sinner. My sins should've grown from that, right?"

Amy smirked. "Oh, they did, but you're still at the bottom. Right now, you're just a low-ranked sinner with some neat tricks. If you want to survive here, let alone become the Devil, you'll need to grow a lot stronger. There are hundreds of sinners out there with powerful abilities—and some of them have been here for centuries."

Johan frowned. "Centuries? I thought sinners could be erased."

"They can be," Amy said, "but the stronger a sinner gets, the harder they are to kill permanently. The top-tier ones have survived countless battles and still walk these streets. Some of them are even worse than the monsters you've already seen."

Johan clicked his tongue. "Great."

Amy floated closer, her grin widening. "That's why you need to start hunting stronger sinners and consuming their sins. Each time you do, your own sins will evolve, and you'll gain new abilities."

Johan narrowed his eyes. "So, what do I hunt next?"

Fia spoke up eagerly. "The city is divided into territories ruled by different Prime Sins. You can challenge one of them or start by taking over smaller territories owned by weaker sinners."

Amy tapped her chin. "I'd say we scout out the area first. You don't wanna run into a Wrath Sinner without knowing what you're up against~"

Johan considered their words. He had only just arrived in Hell, yet he was already caught in a game of survival. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms.

"Fine. If this is my reality now, then I'll climb to the top. I'll show those damn stars that they were wrong about me."

He turned to Amy and Fia. "Then let's get moving. We've got hunting to do."

Amy cackled. "That's the spirit, my little sinner~ Let's paint Hell red!"

Fia giggled, her small wings twitching in excitement.

As Johan stepped toward the door, a dark aura flickered around his hands. The power of his sins was growing.

Johan stood at the edge of the ruined tower, his crimson eyes surveying the chaotic streets below. Sinners of all kinds roamed, scavenged, and fought like mindless beasts. Some were humanoid, others grotesque abominations twisted by their sins. The air smelled of burning flesh, sulfur, and something deeply rotten.

Amy floated beside him, arms crossed with an amused grin. "So, what's the plan, dearest sinner? Are we just going to jump into the bloodbath, or do you have a strategy?"

Johan's lips curled into a smirk. "A little of both."

Fia clapped her hands excitedly. "Ooooh! Are we hunting someone specific?"

Johan cracked his knuckles, feeling the dark energy pulse through his veins. The lingering power from devouring the Pride Sinner was still settling into his body, enhancing his strength. But it wasn't enough. If he wanted to survive, if he wanted to rule, he needed more.

"We need a test run," Johan said. "Something to warm up before we start targeting the big names."

Amy tapped her cheek in thought. "Well, there's a small gang of Gluttony Sinners not far from here. Weak, but persistent. They hoard whatever they can find—food, weapons, even the bones of other sinners. It's honestly disgusting."

Fia grinned. "Sounds fun~ Should I go ahead and burn them?"

Johan shook his head. "No. I want to see what I can do first."

Amy cackled. "Now that's the attitude of a true sinner!"

Johan stepped forward, his boots making a soft crunch as they hit the dirt. He could feel the pulse of the world around him, the weight of the sins pressing against him, making his blood burn with power. The longer he stayed in this place, the stronger he became.

He felt his greed growing, gnawing at him, urging him to take more, consume more, but Johan resisted. For now.

"Lead the way," Johan said to Amy, his voice steady, though his crimson eyes gleamed with anticipation.

Amy grinned, her wings fluttering as she took off, her voice ringing out behind her. "Follow me, and try not to get killed! We have a reputation to uphold, after all!"

Johan gave a small, mocking chuckle. "Don't worry about me."

The streets of Hell stretched endlessly before them. Broken buildings, ruined markets, and burning carts lined the roads. In the distance, Johan could hear the sounds of shouting and the unmistakable growl of hungry creatures. They weren't far now.

Amy led them to a narrow alleyway where the scent of decay thickened. Gluttony Sinners, a disgusting spectacle of fat, bloated bodies and eyes that never blinked, were gathered around a campfire.

They were feasting on scraps of meat, devouring anything they could get their hands on. Some of them were gnawing on bones, their mouths smeared with blood.

Johan could feel the hunger emanating from them, their sinful desire to consume and never be satisfied. It made his stomach churn, not out of disgust, but out of a familiar yearning—one he had fought to keep buried deep inside. His hand clenched into a fist.

"Here we are,"

Amy said with a wicked grin. "Let's see how you do."

Johan walked forward, his steps slow, deliberate.

He could feel their eyes on him, the Gluttony Sinners sniffing the air, sensing the power that radiated from him. They snarled, saliva dripping from their mouths as they eyed him like prey.

One of them,

a massive figure with skin stretched taut over its bloated body, let out a deep, rumbling growl. "New meat…" it rasped.

Johan stopped a few feet away from the group, his eyes never leaving the massive sinner.

He could hear the faintest echo of their sins, a subtle vibration that hummed in the back of his mind. They were pathetic—greedy, gluttonous creatures, driven only by their desire to consume.

"Is this all you are?"

Johan asked, his voice cold and detached.

The Gluttony Sinner growled louder, stepping forward. "What do you want, fool?"

Without warning,

Johan's hand shot out, his fingers curling as the sin of greed surged through him. He could feel the power of the sin wrap around his palm like a coiling serpent, and with a swift motion, he reached forward, tearing into the sinner's soul.

A horrific scream tore through the air as the sinner's body began to twist and contort, as if something invisible was pulling at it from the inside.

Johan's greed pulled and twisted, devouring the sinner's very essence, filling Johan with an intoxicating sense of satisfaction.

His body tingled as the sinner's power was absorbed into him, and the sensation was overwhelming. It was like a thirst that had finally been quenched, and Johan could feel his strength growing with every second.

The other sinners watched in stunned silence, fear beginning to creep into their eyes as they saw their comrade wither and crumble.

Johan's eyes flicked to the others, his voice dripping with menace. "Next."

The remaining Gluttony Sinners hesitated, their fear palpable. One of them, a thin, skeletal figure, tried to make a break for it, but Johan was quicker. He reached out, grabbing the sinner's wrist and pulling him toward him with ease.

"Not so fast," Johan said, his voice low and dangerous.

The sinner struggled, but Johan's grip tightened, and he used the sin of greed once more. This time, it wasn't just a tug—it was a full-on devouring.

The sinner's body began to distort as his very life force was sucked out of him, his soul writhing in agony as it was consumed.

Johan's strength surged even more, his body now buzzing with an energy he could barely contain.

The last two sinners watched in horror, but they didn't move. They were trapped, caught in the aura of Johan's greed, unable to escape. Johan stepped forward, his eyes glowing with hunger, his smile twisted into something dangerous.

"Your sins are mine now," Johan muttered, and with a single thought, he crushed their souls into nothingness, devouring their essence until only ash remained.

Amy clapped from her perch above. "Well done, dearest sinner. You've passed the test!"

Johan stood amidst the ashes, his breathing heavy but steady.

The rush of power was exhilarating, and for the first time since his death, he felt something close to satisfaction. But it wasn't enough. Not yet.

"What's next?"

Johan asked, his voice calm but filled with a barely contained hunger.

Amy floated down, her grin widening. "Oh, you're on the right track now. But the real challenge is still ahead.

You'll need to keep hunting, keep devouring, until you're strong enough to face the prime sins. Only then will you have the power to challenge Hell itself."

Johan nodded, a dark glint in his eyes. "Then let's keep going. I won't stop until I'm the one who rules."

Johan would spot the last one Johan stood there, watching the Gluttony Sinner convulse as his power tore into they soul. For a brief moment,

he could feel the sinner's fear—raw, desperate, clawing at his mind. The fear of being consumed, of losing everything. Johan had once felt that fear himself, though it had been a long time ago. It wasn't fear of death that haunted him now, but of becoming the very thing he feared.

As the sinner's body crumpled to the ground, Johan took a slow breath, feeling the new strength course through him. It was easy to lose himself in the hunger, in the need for more, but the voice in his head—the one that still clung to the remnants of humanity he had left—pulled him back.

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the power settle, trying not to focus on the rush of dark energy.

"Is this really what I am now?" he muttered under his breath.

The Gluttony Sinner's body collapsed in a heap, the once terrifying form now little more than a bloated, lifeless mass. Johan looked down at the remnants of the sinner's existence,

a fleeting sadness washing over him. He had killed ones like this being in the past—sinners who had lost their humanity, consumed by their own vices. But for some reason, this one felt different.

"Is this… what I'm becoming?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.

He couldn't tell if he was speaking to the sinner or to himself.

Amy hovered nearby, her eyes narrowing slightly at the unexpected emotion she saw in his gaze. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice softer than usual. "You were just fine a moment ago."

Johan clenched his fists, the surge of guilt and doubt tugging at his heart. "I don't know," he admitted, voice raw. "I can't shake the feeling that I'm losing myself. That all of this—everything I've become—isn't who I really am."

Fia, who had been watching from the shadows, stepped forward, her smile ever-present but laced with a flicker of concern. "King sir, listen to me. I haven't known you long but this is hell and. You're a force of nature trying to fight through it while staying the same person to me even in our little time. you're still you. You're just…" She paused, her gaze piercing. "...evolving."

Johan's gaze met hers, his eyes conflicted. "But at what cost?" he asked quietly, his voice carrying a weight he hadn't let himself feel in ages. "I've fought to survive, to gain power, to prove that I'm more than just the victim of my circumstances. But now… now I'm afraid that I'm just becoming a monster. That the stars…those bastards was right I denied who i was but here i am killing former human beings"

There was a long pause as the others processed his words. Even Amy, who usually reveled in chaos and destruction, seemed to soften.

"You're not a monster," Amy said, her usual playfulness absent from her tone. "The monsters, the real ones, are the ones who don't feel. Who don't question. And i seen many monsters trust me when i say they are something you will never wish to meet in this life time or another."

Johan looked away, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He didn't know what was worse—the fact that he was questioning his actions or the fear that if he stopped, if he let himself feel too much, he might lose everything he had fought for.

"I'm afraid," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "Afraid that I'll lose who I am. That I'll become just like them—the ones I've been hunting. I've already started to forget what it was like… to care. The feeling to care the feeling to feel love all my characters that made me human are leaving me"

Fia stepped closer, her presence grounding in the midst of his spiraling thoughts. "You won't lose yourself, Johan. You choose who you are. It's not the sins that define you, but how you deal with them." She gave him a soft smile. "It's what makes you different from the rest. You're the only one who can decide what you become. So, what will it be? Become a monster like everyone else or become the king of demons and devils and rule or…just stop and die"

For a moment, Johan said nothing. He just stood there, staring at the lifeless body of the sinner, lost in his own turmoil. Then, slowly, he exhaled, the weight in his chest easing just a little.

"I want power," he said quietly, his voice determined, though the uncertainty still lingered in his eyes. "I want to be strong enough to never be weak again. But I also don't want to lose who I am in the process. I won't be a monster if I can help it."

Amy smirked, the fire returning to her eyes. "Well, that's good enough for me. You've got a long way to go, but I'm not worried about you."

Fia nodded. "You're already walking the line. Just make sure you choose which one you want will cross."

Johan nodded slowly, a sense of resolution forming in his chest.

The road ahead was uncertain, but for the first time in a long while, he felt like he might have a choice in the matter. And for all his power, that was the one thing that made him feel human again.

Johan would speak softly, As if something heavy is on his mind "let's head back to the tower for now."

Fia would holds her hand up sending them back to the castle in a glow of light, Fia and Amy both left Johan to his own thoughts to better prepare they tower.

The room felt suffocating, as if the very air held the weight of Johan's thoughts.

Thanks to the others who left, giving him space to think, or perhaps they too had grown weary of his silence. For all the strength he had gained, the power he now wielded,

there was still an undeniable gnawing emptiness inside of him. The darkness, the hunger, the power—it was all too much to bear at times, and yet, every time he tried to step away from it, it pulled him back in.

But there was something different now. A small seed of doubt had been planted in his mind, watered by Fia's words, by Amy's understanding. Could he still make a different choice?

Could he choose to be something more than the monster that fate had tried to mold him into?

Johan's fingers clenched into fists at his sides, his knuckles whitening. The rush of power flowed through his veins, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to feel the heat of it.

It was tempting, that power. So easy to give into, so easy to let it consume him, to slip into the familiar comfort of ruthlessness and domination. He could destroy everything in his path. He could claim it all—everything he had ever wanted.

But then, that voice echoed in his mind again.

Who are you really?

He opened his eyes, staring at his reflection in the window. The face staring back at him was a mask—empty, cold, a reminder of all the things he had done and all the things he had yet to do. His eyes, once full of life and hope, now seemed to carry the weight of ages.

There was a fierceness in them, a hunger for control and power that could never be satisfied. And yet, under that, there was something else—a vulnerability, a crack in the armor he had so carefully built around himself. To keep himself safe to kill the stars he so desperately wanted to be.

It had been so long since he had allowed himself to feel anything other than the relentless drive for survival. He had told himself that becoming a star was the only thing that mattered,

that nothing else could protect him from the cruel world that had once cast him aside. But now, with the echoes of Fia's words still ringing in his ears, he wasn't so sure. Could he still protect himself? Could he still choose to be something different?

Johan stepped away from the window and walked towards the dark corner of the room where his mattress lay , reminders of the battles he had fought. His hand hovered over a blade Fia crafted from dead demons bones, its edge gleaming in the low light, but he hesitated. The impulse to pick it up, to feel its weight in his hand, was strong. It was familiar. It was power.

But what would it be used for?

He clenched his jaw, his mind racing with questions he didn't have answers to. The bone of the blade stared back at him, offering no comfort, only a silent judgment. His fingers twitched, but this time, he didn't reach for the weapon.

Instead,

he turned away, his footsteps heavy as he left the room.

Outside, the night air was cold, biting at his skin, but it grounded him in a way the silence of his thoughts couldn't. His senses sharpened, but this time, he forced himself to focus on the world around him. The rustling of the ashes, the distant calls of demons and different creatures, the loud roaring of hell It was all so... much. So real.

For a moment, he closed his eyes, letting himself breathe. And then, without even thinking, his steps took him to the mattress.

It was there, in the quiet darkness, where he had decided to lay his head.

It was there that he laid down recalling his thoughts, of killing, where his transformation had begun in earnest.

The memories were still vivid—too vivid. He had been a different person then, consumed by rage, a man driven by the desire to prove himself, to show the stars that he was someone. But in the process, he had become something else. Something darker. And now, standing at the very edge of it all, he could feel the weight of that transformation pressing down on him.

Is this who I really am?

He thought of Fia's words again—remember who you are. But who was he? Was he still that boy who had once dreamed of a life as a star ? Was he still the same man who had craved the approval of others, who had wanted to make a difference, to leave his mark on the world?

Or was he just the monster the stars had said him to become?

Johan whispered to himself, his voice barely audible, "I've already lost more than I ever thought possible... but what I choose next, how I move forward, is what will define me. Will I be the monster the stars saw, or the star I wish to become?"

in a distant palace where it was black and covered in red, A being who looks like Fia walks through the halls with a tray of tea and opens a door quietly, as the scene. The smell of blood is thick in the air, and the silence is unnatural—not even the wind dares to breathe.

Then, the woman see it. Bodies. Hung on the walls like decorations. Skinned, twisted, smiling despite their suffering. Some still twitching, trapped between life and death.

A horrific masterpiece of pain and artistry. The Whisper of Doom As the woman takes a step forward, Her foot splashes in a pool of blood. Then— A voice. Low, amused,

so close it might as well be whispering in her ear. "Seems I have a new rat my dear may." May stops. the shadows move. A shape detaches from the darkness,

standing atop the wall of corpses. The man is tall and unnervingly thin, with an almos skeletal frame that exudes a chilling stillness. His pale skin has a slight translucency, making him look almost unnatural. His sharp features give him an unsettlingly perfect appearance, but his eyes—black sclera with shifting crimson and violet irises—are the true source of terror.

His smile is cold and predatory, never quite reaching his eyes, and his movements are slow, deliberate, like a spider waiting for its prey to stumble into its web.

His eyes burn like distant dying stars. His voice drips with venomous amusement. His presence alone makes the air feel thin, like the world itself is suffocating. He tilts his head, examining the bodies like one would a dying insect. "I wonder... will my new pet scurry? Or will they entertain me?" Then—the bodies start laughing.

A chorus of broken, tortured voices, all laughing in perfect sync.

The man has been grinning like a fool the entire time. He speaks in a low tone but his voice rings out like a bell "my dear may let us go found some new prey."