From void profound 3

"How'd you get here?" Peter asked, breaking the silence.

Eva didn't answer, her glowing blue eyes flickering to the candle's flame.

Peter shifted awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "Um… I was trying to impress Jane. She likes my brother. I can see why—Michael's not scared of anything."

"That's a lie," Eva said quietly.

"Huh?" Peter blinked, caught off guard.

"He was scared when he heard you scream," Eva said, her voice soft but certain. "He was really scared."

Peter chuckled nervously. "That's because he's my brother. He's worried about me. But he's not scared of anything else." He paused, his gaze dropping to the dusty floor. "I wish I was like him."

Eva turned to him, studying his face. "Do you really want to be like him?"

Peter hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. He's strong. He's brave. I'd do anything to be like him."

"I can give you that," Eva said, her voice steady now.

Peter raised an eyebrow, unsure if she was joking. "Really? How?"

"I'm a Root," Eva said simply.

Peter's eyes widened. "What? Seriously? And you… you chose me?"

Eva nodded once.

"Wait." Peter leaned back, skeptical. "I don't have to sell my soul or anything, right?"

Eva's expression remained calm. "A soul can't be sold. It always belongs to its owner. Only its fate can be shared."

"So… you're not going to take it?" Peter asked cautiously.

Eva shook her head.

"I don't need your soul. I don't want it," Eva said calmly. "All you have to do is help people."

Peter's eyes lit up. In his mind, he suddenly saw himself as a superhero, saving the day. "Okay, I'll do it!" he said eagerly.

Then a thought crossed his mind. "Wait… does that mean you'll have to follow me everywhere I go?" he asked, tilting his head.

"Not everywhere," Eva replied, her voice soft but clear.

Peter frowned slightly as he glanced at her long, wild hair. "Well, we're definitely going to have to give you a haircut," he said, brushing her hair aside to reveal her face.

He gasped. Her face was smudged with dirt, but even so, it was strikingly beautiful. Her bright blue eyes seemed to glow, pulling him in like nothing he'd ever seen before.

"Woah," Peter breathed, leaning in closer to get a better look.

The moment his forehead touched hers, a bright flash of light filled the room. When Peter opened his eyes, Eva was gone. But he felt it—an incredible surge of power coursing through his veins.

Looking down, he realized his shirt was gone, replaced by a bare chest and floor-length white hair. He glanced at his hands, flexing them in amazement. "So… this is a merge," Peter murmured, his voice filled with wonder.

He rose to his feet, feeling stronger than ever. Glancing up at the hole he had fallen through, he crouched slightly and leaped effortlessly, clearing the gap in a single bound.

*** Flashback ends ***

Eva lay on the bed, her eyes fixed on her phone as she downloaded the streaming app the teenage girl had been using earlier. Curious about the platform, she opened it and began registering for an account.

"Username?" Eva muttered to herself. After a moment of thought, she typed in Aviva, completing the registration process with a satisfied nod.

Once inside, Eva began scrolling through countless videos, her expression blank as she flicked past dance challenges, cooking tutorials, and livestreams of people chatting about their day. She continued browsing for nearly an hour until one video caught her attention.

It was from a new creator named justalex. The man on screen had messy black hair, warm brown eyes, and a naturally attractive face. He wasn't doing anything extraordinary—just sitting in his room, casually talking about his favorite movies—but there was something about his easygoing demeanor that made Eva pause.

A small smile tugged at her lips as she tapped the heart icon to like the video and quickly hit the follow button. Without thinking, she typed a comment:

"You are so good-looking."

Satisfied, Eva watched the video again. And again. She replayed it several times, her smile lingering each time Alex laughed or smiled at the camera.

For a moment, the stoic and composed Eva seemed like just another girl finding a moment of lightness in her day.

***

Elsewhere, Alexander was settling into bed in his small apartment. The glow of the city lights seeped through the blinds, casting faint streaks of light across the room. Just as he pulled the blanket over himself, his phone buzzed on the nightstand.

"It's probably not about my video," he muttered, trying to ignore the nagging curiosity bubbling up inside him.

He rolled onto his side, facing away from the phone, determined to get some sleep. But no matter how much he tried, his thoughts kept drifting back to it. What if it is?

After several minutes of tossing and turning, Alexander gave in with a sigh. "It won't hurt to check," he said, reaching for the phone and unlocking it.

A notification from the streaming app popped up on the screen:

1 new like. 1 new comment. 1 new follower.

His heart leapt, and his eyes widened. "Yes!" Alexander shouted, punching the air in excitement.

He sat up in bed, a huge grin on his face. This was his very first follower, and the joy he felt was indescribable. It wasn't just a small milestone—it was validation, a sign that someone out there had noticed him.

He opened the app to see the comment. His grin grew even wider when he read it:

"You are so good-looking."

Alexander laughed nervously, feeling a bit flustered but undeniably proud. "Well, this is a good start," he said to himself, his excitement still coursing through him.

For the first time in weeks, Alexander fell asleep with a smile on his face.

***

The next day, they returned to their hometown, arriving in the warm afternoon sun. As soon as they stepped into the town square, the three parted ways. Peter headed straight home, eager to see his family.

The moment he walked through the door, he was engulfed in a tight hug by his twelve-year-old little sister, Ruth.

"Peter!" Ruth squealed, clinging to him like a koala.

Peter laughed as he picked her up. "Missed me that much, huh?"

"Honey, Peter's home!" his father, Mr. Davis, called from the living room.

"Alright, Ruth, let go. Give him some air," Mrs. Davis said as she gently pulled her daughter away.

"No way! It's been forever since I've seen my favorite brother!" Ruth protested, holding on stubbornly.

"I thought I was your favorite, Besides he's been gone for like two days" Michael teased, descending the stairs.

"Nope. You're her favorite when I'm broke. I'm her favorite when I've got money," Peter joked with a grin.

"Don't listen to him," Ruth said, finally letting go and standing firm. "You've always been my favorite brother."

"Give him some space, everyone," Mrs. Davis chided with a smile. "He just got back from his trip."

"Let me get you some water!" Ruth said, dashing into the kitchen before anyone could stop her.

"They act like we don't do anything around here," Michael muttered with a grin.

"Wait till you're married—it gets worse," Mr. Davis said with a laugh.

Mrs. Davis shot him a sharp look. "Excuse me?"

The brothers chuckled nervously, exchanging a knowing glance.

Mr. Davis owned a mechanic shop, and Michael, his eldest son, had recently graduated with a degree in mechanical engineering. He now worked alongside their father, helping to modernize and expand the family business.

As Peter settled into the living room, Mrs. Davis leaned forward with a knowing smile. "Peter, do you remember those repairs I mentioned last time?" she asked, adding a subtle wink.

Peter nodded, immediately catching the hidden meaning. "Oh, those. Yeah, I'll send the money for them."

"And don't forget my shoes!" Ruth chimed in, returning with a glass of water for Peter.

"Repairs? And Ruth, you don't need new shoes," Mr. Davis said, frowning slightly.

Mrs. Davis shot her husband a pointed glare, silencing any further objections.

Ruth ignored the exchange and turned to Peter with a hopeful look. "Hey, the girl you tutor—does she have a younger sibling? I could tutor them too!"

Peter chuckled as he sipped his water. "Nope, she's an only child."

The truth was, Peter hadn't told his family about his life as a diabolist. Being devout Christians, his parents were unlikely to accept it. Instead, he had crafted a convincing cover story: he worked as a private tutor for a temperamental rich girl. Sometimes, she requested his company on trips to ensure her studies wouldn't be interrupted. It wasn't ideal, but it kept questions to a minimum.

"Peter, you're so lucky. I wish I had a job like that," Ruth sighed dramatically.

Peter smiled but said nothing, quietly thankful his family hadn't probed deeper into his work.

***

Jane stepped into her family home, greeted by silence except for the faint sound of the television. Her older brother glanced up briefly from his show before returning his attention to the screen, offering no more acknowledgment.

Her family was what some would call above average—well-off but still striving for more. They were all obsessed with breaking into the elusive circles of the elite, tirelessly working to elevate their social status. Everyone except Jane.

This made her an afterthought in her own home. Her lack of interest in their ambitions had long since placed her in the shadows, and her family had stopped noticing her altogether. But Jane didn't care anymore. She had Peter now, and his friendship filled the void left by their indifference.

She climbed the stairs to her room, closing the door behind her with a quiet click. Sitting on her bed, she pulled out her phone and opened her banking app. The screen lit up, displaying a balance of over twenty million dollars, all earned from her missions.

Jane smirked, a mix of pride and defiance flickering across her face. She didn't need her family's love or acceptance. She had carved her own path, and it was one they could never control.

***

Eva placed her bags on the bed in her house, the same dilapidated structure Peter had found her in years ago. The exterior remained untouched, but the interior had transformed drastically. What was once a dark and dusty ruin was now a cozy, modern space.

She was about to lie down when something popped into her mind.

"Right, Goldie," Eva muttered, getting back up. She left the house and began walking down the street.

After a few minutes, she arrived at her destination—a run-down building where five thugs sat outside, playing poker on a battered table.

One of the men looked up and spotted her approaching. His face turned pale.

"El Diablo," he whispered, his voice trembling.

"Ah, not this again," said the second thug, rolling his eyes. "I'm not falling for it this time."

The third thug, sitting beside the first, lifted his head. The moment his gaze landed on Eva, he froze, terror flashing in his eyes.

The second thug laughed. "You're playing along too? I'm not buying it. I'm finally winning, and you guys are pulling this crap? I don't care if she's actually behind me—this game isn't ending."

The fourth thug, oblivious, chuckled as he studied his cards. But when the fifth thug glanced up, his reaction was the same as the others. He dropped his hand of cards and stammered, "S-She-Devil..."

Eva stopped a few feet away, crossing her arms as her icy blue eyes swept over the group.