What He Must Do

The ruined expanse of Earth stretched endlessly beneath a sickly, crimson sky. The land, once teeming with life, lay in smoldering decay, a mere husk of its former self. Cities had crumbled, forests had withered, and rivers ran black with corruption. Yet amidst the wreckage of a dying world, one structure stood tall, casting an ominous shadow over the broken land.

The Citadel.

A monstrous fortress of a dark obsidian colored steel, it loomed over the ruins like a god upon its throne. Towering spires stretched into the heavens, clawing at the sky with jagged malice. And below, hundreds of domes branched from its foundation—perfectly symmetrical, eerily pristine amidst the destruction.

Their purpose remained a mystery.

Deep within the heart of the Citadel, Lionel sat upon his grand throne. His fingers tapped together in slow, deliberate rhythm, his sharp nails clicking against one another with the patience of a man who held the world in his grasp. Shadows twisted unnaturally around him, flickering like flames despite the lack of light. His Crimson eyes gleamed, narrow with disinterest.

Before him, a woman writhed in midair, her body contorted by unseen hands. The air around her crackled with Lionel's magic, arcs of violet energy searing into her flesh, tearing screams from her throat. Her eyes rolled back, her body spasming in agony. Yet Lionel's expression remained unchanged.

"Boring."

A sharp, shrill alarm shattered the moment.

Lionel sighed, lifting his hand as the woman collapsed to the cold stone floor, twitching in a barely-conscious heap. The energy around her dissipated, leaving only the acrid stench of burnt flesh in the air.

A prisoner… attempting escape.

How tedious.

Down in the depths of the Citadel, within the labyrinthine dungeons where the air reeked of rust and rot, a group of Demon Users stood guard before a heavily reinforced cell. The dim, pulsing glow of their enchanted gauntlets bathed the walls in eerie red light.

Inside the cell, Alexander lay bound in thick chains, his once-powerful frame weakened by the countless vials embedded into his body. Some were filled with dark liquid, others with shimmering green toxins. At the press of a button, one of the vials emptied its contents into his bloodstream, sending fresh waves of pain coursing through him.

"Stabilize that thing, now!" one of the guards barked as Alexander thrashed, his body fighting against the drugs meant to break him.

"You fool," another spat, his voice dripping with condescension. "These will weaken your abilities! There is no escape, just give up."

The heavy clang of boots against steel drew their attention. A figure stepped forward, the insignia '2' engraved on the mask that concealed his face.

A Rank 2 Demon User.

He was larger than the others, his right arm encased in a massive gauntlet that pulsed with raw energy. Without hesitation, he reached through the cell's bars and gripped Alexander's face, fingers digging into his jaw with crushing force.

"You fool," he sneered. "You're wasting your time."

His fist came down like a hammer, slamming into Alexander's gut, knocking the wind from his lungs. Alexander gasped, his breath ragged as he slumped against his chains.

"I won't stop trying…" he rasped, his voice hoarse but unbroken.

The masked man chuckled darkly. "Well, soon I'll be rid of you."

Alexander's lip curled in defiance, but his body betrayed him, trembling from the vile concoctions coursing through his veins.

The guard leaned in closer, his voice dripping with malice. "You see…" He spread his arms wide, his tone suddenly jubilant, his mask tilting as if savoring the moment. "We just got news… that your son has been slain."

Alexander's breath hitched.

"…Liar."

The Rank 2 shrugged, turning on his heel as the cell door hissed shut behind him. "Choose to believe me or not," he said, voice cold as steel. "It's not me who is going to die."

The door sealed with an echoing clang, leaving Alexander alone in the suffocating dark.

Then… suddenly, Alexander's vision blurred.

Wh—

Everything went black.

He stood in an endless void. Dark. Silent. Oppressive.

The air felt thick, like it was pressing against his skin, suffocating, watching. His boots made a sickening squelch as he shifted. He looked down.

Blood.

A vast ocean of it stretched endlessly in all directions, rippling beneath his weight. The reflection of his own glowing, golden eyes stared back at him, distorted in the crimson surface.

"Okay… that's new," Alexander muttered, exhaling sharply.

Then, a voice.

His name.

"Alexander Sentryon…"

A chill ran through him as he slowly turned around.

Standing before him—was himself.

But this version was wrong. It was entirely red, like a living mass of blood molded into his exact shape. Eyes like burning embers pierced through the darkness, locked onto him with an intensity that sent shivers up his spine.

Alexander's smirk twitched at the edges, masking his unease.

"Well, that's unsettling," he remarked. "I'm guessing you're the Blood Wolf?"

The entity didn't move, but its voice resonated through the space, a perfect echo of his own.

"Yes."

Alexander exhaled, placing his hands on his hips. "Alright. And what exactly do you want from me?"

"You must escape."

Alexander's smirk widened just a fraction. "So… it's that bad, huh?"

"Yes."

The Blood Wolf took a slow step forward, and the blood beneath them rippled unnaturally.

"And you don't have much time," it continued, voice calm yet laced with something cold. "Your time is over. You must pass on your ability."

Alexander's amusement flickered for the briefest moment.

"Tch," he scoffed, crossing his arms. "Well, I'd love to, but there's one small problem." He gestured around the void. "I'm still kinda stuck in a damn prison."

The Blood Wolf's eyes burned brighter.

"Your ability has evolved."

Alexander's eyes widened.

What...?

"There's no time," the Blood Wolf's voice rang out, more urgent now.

"ESCAPE!"

The world around him trembled, the blood beneath his feet rippling violently.

"You know what to do after that..."

Alexander let out a breath, rolling his shoulders. A slow, wicked smirk spread across his face.

"Alright... I guess I'm going to be joining them soon."

His eyes snapped open.

The cold, metallic walls of his prison cell surrounded him once more. The weight of the magic chains dug into his skin, burning with suppression spells, but something felt... different. His body thrummed with raw energy. Power surged through his veins, coiling beneath his skin like a beast waiting to be unleashed.

Well then... Alexander inhaled deeply, his muscles tensing, let's give it a try.

With all his strength, he pulled against the chains. His muscles burned, his veins bulging as raw force met the magic bindings. The cell trembled. The alarms blared.

"He's at it again!"

One of the guards cursed, scrambling to a control panel.

"Just inject a vial into him! That always shuts him down!"

A sharp hiss filled the air as another vial of suppressant fluid was pumped into his bloodstream. The effect was immediate—his body screamed in protest, his limbs growing heavy.

But this time… he didn't stop.

His muscles pushed harder. His arms trembled, not with weakness, but with something new—an awakening.

"DO IT AGAIN!"

Another vial emptied into his veins.

Nothing.

A sudden crack split the air. The enchanted steel groaned as the unthinkable happened.

BOOM!

The chains shattered.

Panic erupted among the guards.

"H-he broke through?! H-how?!"

One of them fumbled for his communicator, his voice shaking.

"PRISONER 104 HAS ESCAPED! NEEDING ASSISTANCE NOW—"

His words were cut short.

BOOM!

The cell door exploded outward as Alexander punched straight through it, the sheer force reducing it to twisted debris. His eyes gleamed with untamed fury.

Before the guard could react, a hand gripped his throat.

"—wait, no—!"

RIP!

His head tore free from his shoulders. Blood sprayed across the cold walls. The body crumpled, lifeless.

"Damn it."

The words cut through the chaos like a blade, spoken with quiet certainty. Heavy boots echoed through the corridor, deliberate and steady. A masked figure emerged from the dim red glow of the emergency lights, his presence like a shadow cast over the carnage. The massive gauntlet on his right arm hummed with power, his mask marked with a bold number 2.

He's gotten stronger somehow...

A soldier's frantic voice crackled through his communicator.

"Sir! He's fought his way to the Intelligence Center!"

The Demon User stopped in his tracks. He exhaled sharply.

"Seriously?"

The scent of burning metal filled the air.

Alexander stood amidst the ruins of the Intelligence Center—shattered screens, broken terminals, sparks flying from severed wires. His path was lined with destroyed machines and mutilated guards. His breath was steady, his body thrumming with newfound strength.

Then, he turned to the security console. His fingers flew across the interface, bypassing lockdowns, overriding security measures. With a final press of a button—

Every single prison door slid open.

Through the intercom, his voice rang out, strong and unwavering.

"It's time for us to leave on our own terms."