THE FORGOTTEN ONE

Azrail had seen monsters before. She had fought the infected—once-human creatures twisted into grotesque forms that defied nature. But this? This was unlike anything she had ever encountered.

The creature stood tall, its body a grotesque fusion of shadow and flesh. Black veins pulsed beneath its translucent skin, writhing like living parasites. With every step, the ground beneath it cracked, as though reality itself buckled under its presence. Its hollow, ember-lit eyes burned with an intensity that felt like it could see through her very soul.

And its voice—a distorted whisper that bypassed the ears and crawled directly into the mind—chilled her to the core.

"You are not supposed to exist."

The words echoed in her skull, laced with an otherworldly malice that made her stomach churn. Azrail felt the weight of its gaze, oppressive and suffocating, as though the creature wasn't just looking at her, but through her, unraveling every secret she didn't know she held.

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to move, to resist the fear clawing at her insides. Her hand twitched toward her hip, seeking the comfort of her dagger—only to remember she had no weapons left.

"Asmodeus," she whispered, her voice tight with tension, "what the hell is that thing?"

The Demon King didn't answer immediately. He stood motionless, his crimson eyes narrowing as he studied the creature. His shadows, usually so fluid and unshakable, flickered erratically, as though they were struggling against some unseen force

Azrail's pulse quickened. He wasn't attacking. He wasn't moving.

He was analyzing.

"Asmodeus!" she hissed, louder this time, the rising panic in her chest making it hard to breathe. "Don't just stand there. Say something."

When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, but there was an edge to it—a cold, calculating undertone Azrail had never heard from him before.

"It should not be here."

Her frustration boiled over. "Yeah, no kidding. Care to explain?"

Asmodeus didn't respond. His focus remained locked on the creature, his expression unreadable, though his clenched fists betrayed the tension simmering beneath his calm façade.

The creature tilted its head, its ember-like eyes fixating on Azrail. The room seemed to grow colder, the air itself turning heavy with an unnatural stillness. Then, it spoke again.

"You do not remember, do you?"

The voice was a whisper, but it carried weight—a reverberation that sank into her very being.

Azrail froze.

Her breath caught, her chest tightening as an unexplainable wave of unease washed over her. "What… are you talking about?"

The creature took a step forward—or rather, reality seemed to ripple as it moved. Its form shifted unnaturally, like it existed outside the rules of this world.

"Your blood remembers. Your body remembers. But you… you have forgotten."

Azrail's fists clenched, nails digging into her palms. What was it saying? Her blood? Her body? No. It was trying to get inside her head. That's all this was. Another mind game.

She forced a sharp laugh, masking her unease with defiance. "Sorry, but I'm fresh out of cryptic nonsense translators. Try again."

The creature didn't laugh. Instead, it tilted its head again, its hollow eyes burning brighter.

"That is why you are weak."

The words struck a nerve. Azrail gritted her teeth, stepping forward, ready to challenge it—ready to do something, anything—

And then it moved.

It didn't lunge. It didn't sprint. One moment, it was standing several feet away. The next, it was right in front of her, its hand plunging straight through her chest.

Azrail's world tilted.

Pain—cold, sharp, and agonizing—shot through her body. Her breath caught, her lungs locking up as though the air itself had turned to ice.

Her vision blurred.

The creature's touch wasn't just physical. It reached deeper, far deeper, as though it was grasping at something intangible—something beneath her flesh, beneath her soul.

Her blood burned.

A strange, overwhelming heat surged through her veins, clashing violently with the icy pain of the creature's touch. Memories—not hers, but unfamiliar, alien memories—flashed through her mind in disjointed fragments.

A lab.

Shadows.

Screams.

And a voice—a voice calling her by a name she didn't recognize.

Azrail gasped, her body convulsing as the pain reached its peak. And then—

Everything exploded.

When Azrail opened her eyes, the world was spinning. She was on the ground, her chest heaving as she struggled to breathe. The pain was gone, but the memory of it lingered like a ghost.

She looked up, her vision clearing just enough to see Asmodeus standing in front of her, his shadows coiled tightly around him like a living barrier.

The creature was several feet away, its form flickering as though destabilized.

"You cannot kill what is already forgotten," it hissed, its voice fractured but still laced with that same haunting malice.

Asmodeus didn't reply. His shadows surged forward, striking the creature with a force that shook the ground. The impact sent a shockwave through the room, cracking the stone walls and sending debris raining down.

The creature shrieked—a sound so piercing and unnatural that Azrail instinctively covered her ears.

But it didn't fall.

It didn't bleed.

It simply stood, unscathed, as though Asmodeus's attack had been nothing more than a breeze.

Azrail forced herself to her feet, her legs trembling beneath her weight. "Great," she muttered, her voice hoarse. "Another invincible nightmare. Just what we needed."

Asmodeus glanced back at her, his crimson eyes glowing faintly. "Stay back."

Azrail frowned. "And let you handle this alone? Not happening."

"You can barely stand," he shot back, his tone sharper than usual.

She hated that he was right. But she wasn't about to let him fight this thing by himself—not when it had clearly shaken even him.

The creature moved again, its form rippling as it reappeared just inches away from Asmodeus. This time, its voice was softer, almost… amused.

"You cannot protect her."

Asmodeus's shadows lashed out, striking the creature with enough force to shatter the ground beneath them. But again, it didn't fall.

"You cannot protect what was never yours to save," it whispered.

Azrail's chest tightened. There was something in its tone—something that felt uncomfortably close to the truth.

Asmodeus didn't respond. Instead, he stepped forward, his shadows surging with renewed intensity. The room darkened, the air turning thick with his power.

Azrail had seen him fight before. She had seen him destroy enemies without hesitation, without mercy.

But this time…

This time, he was fighting like he had something to lose.

The battle raged on, the room shaking with every clash of power. Azrail could only watch, her heart pounding as Asmodeus faced the creature head-on.

For the first time, she realized just how fragile her place in this world was.

She had always thought of herself as a survivor, someone who could handle anything life threw at her.

But now, as she stood there, weaponless and powerless, watching a fight that was far beyond her comprehension—

She felt small

And for the first time, she wondered if she truly understood the man who stood between her and the thing that wanted her dead.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the creature stepped back.

Its ember-like eyes flickered, its form rippling as though fading.

"This is not over," it said, its voice echoing in the empty air.

And then—it was gone.

Azrail let out a shaky breath, her knees buckling beneath her as she collapsed to the ground.

Asmodeus turned to her, his shadows receding as his crimson eyes softened.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice steady but laced with an undertone of concern.

Azrail managed a weak laugh. "Nothing a nap and some alcohol won't fix."

He frowned, kneeling beside her. "You shouldn't joke about this."

"And you shouldn't fight monsters like that on your own," she shot back, meeting his gaze.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, the weight of everything unspoken settling between them.

Finally, Asmodeus sighed, his usual calm demeanor returning. "Rest. We'll talk later."

Azrail nodded, too exhausted to argue. But as she closed her eyes, one thought lingered in her mind—

What had that creature meant?

And why did part of her feel like it was telling the truth?