How to Make the Perfect Demon Lord

Tension struck the room: a long-lost uncle standing opposite his intelligent niece, two of the most successful Smiths, each on the brink of changing their family's fate, meeting for the first time.

"Dad always spoke about you," Alexander muttered, voice heavy. He knew silence would only make the reunion more awkward; besides, he needed to hear what the captain knew first.

A smirk ghosted across the captain's face. His eyes dropped as if he were daydreaming. His brother had kept their legacy alive, unaware that soon no one from the world of the living would remain to carry it forward.

"He was a good brother," Captain Ron began. "I was heartbroken to hear about his death." He laid an arm on Alexander's shoulder.

Alexander's eyes twitched with pain beneath the gesture; with that touch came an overwhelming weight of power,raw, heavy. The captain muttered under his breath, as if he had forgotten to dampen his mana.

They started to walk, slow circles around the spacious palace room. With every step the burden seemed to lighten, minute by minute. In that small reprieve Alexander drew a breath. The captain didn't know the truth of that night, thankfully but ignorance would not spare Alexander. He would have to carry the burden, hide everything if he wanted to remain.

"I watched the funeral," the captain said, voice steady. "I saw the media, the companies… none of them knew our real suffering." He spoke calmly, as though reciting a fact.

He turned his head, his gaze sharpening on Alexander. The uncle seemed about to say something intuitive. "And then I saw you, tearless."

Alexander's hands began to tremble. Every word the man spoke felt like a blade, aimed straight at his throat.

"That's when I knew you had the heart of a lion," the captain admired. His face softened, proud, like a father seeing his child's good grades.

Ahead of them an opening revealed a balcony that led outward toward the sunset and the wondrous view of Midworld. The door frame was beautifully crafted; black curtains hung high and curved, covering only a quarter of the frame. This was where their catching up had led.

They stopped and looked out at skyscrapers, swaths of vegetation and busy streets. From that height the city felt complete, everything visible at once, the place where kings might stand while their servants obeyed below.

"How… how did you become the captain?" Alexander asked. It was a question that had long lived in his head. How did someone gain influence so absolute that even rivals avoided crossing him?

"I've done a lot, kid," the captain replied. "I've sacrificed more than most. But one thing I never do is give up. If you want to be anything in this world, you must become stronger, strong enough to crush your enemies with a single thought."

He fixed Alexander with a steady look. "With the power I have, I cannot let our name end here.You will finish the games and return to the old world, no matter the cost." He meant every word; the conviction in his eyes left no doubt.

Suddenly

Boom.

The door burst open, thrown wide without care for hinges or frame. A mark marred its center where a boot had struck. The uncle and niece turned toward the doorway. Alexander's eyes darted, uneasy. The forceful entry promised no good. Given the captain's reputation,his mana and clout throughout Midworld,only someone reckless or desperate would barge in like that.

"Alexander!" a familiar cry rang out, urgent and full of concern.

"Greg!" Alexander breathed, relief leaking through his voice. He had feared the boy still bound by elf magic.

Greg strode into the room, a smile cracking until he saw the scene: the captain holding Alexander like an anchor being in his grasp. Alarm spread over Greg's face. He threw up his hands, fists clenching.

"Get away from him!" he shouted.

"It's not what you think!" the captain protested, loosening his hold to ease the tension. He tried to smooth the unease between them.

Greg's eyes darted between the captain and Alexander, then to the anchor-like hold. "We're related?" he blurted, incredulous.

"How?" the captain asked, stunned.

"He is my uncle," Greg answered.

"You've got to be kidding me!" The captain's eyes widened. He paused, processing what he'd just heard.

"So you're going to join him?" Greg pressed, the question heavy with consequence.

Alexander turned, looked at his uncle with a faint smile that said what he was about to answer, then faced Greg and let the cold reply fall. "I have no choice," he said calmly.

Tsk. Greg shook his head in disbelief. "He's my uncle," Alexander added, as if that explained everything.

"And what about the others ;Jamie, Bray?" Greg demanded.

"They'll survive without me.Tell them what happened; they'll understand," Alexander pleaded.

"No… you tell them yourself." Greg's voice cut through and, without waiting for more, he turned and left the room, his eyes escorting him as he exited.

"Don't worry about him," the captain said, laying a comforting hand on Alexander's shoulder. "All that matters is getting you back to the world of the living."

A slow smile spread across the captain's face,his plan had worked. He'd recruited his niece; it was a chance to repay his brother for everything he had done.

.....

Greg walked the streets alone as night settled. His face returned to the identity he crafted.The lights shone bright; most people had gone home, though a few lingered with work still to do. The next day was set for the third game; conversations buzzed in homes, debates and bets about who would win echoed through the city.

"Nice to see you alone for a change!" Eva called from behind, wrapped in a red jumper against the chill.

"Alexander's with the Grid Lions," Greg replied, voice oddly calm, as if he'd made peace with it.

"He was destined to join them sooner or later," Eva said.

"He's going to get stronger, trained, hardened. The captain's doing our job for us." Greg kept his tone measured, steadying himself.

"The only thing we need," Eva said, "is to convince him to be Earth-001's anchor being."

Greg's confidence hardened. He had planned from the beginning, shaping moves around the pieces they'd been handed. "Now?" Eva asked.

"We take care of the next mission," Greg replied, voice low with resolve. "We kill Jamie."