The Extra Who Shouldn’t Exist

As Azrael stood frozen, his eyes widened in disbelief.

The figure before him radiated demonic energy so potent, it distorted the air around him. Cloaked in light and shadows, he stood tall, calm, unshakable… and impossibly powerful.

Azrael, however, wasn't listening to a word the figure said.

His eyes were locked on the man's face.

'He… looks like me,' Azrael thought, jaw tightening.

But unlike Azrael, whose face was marred with jagged scars from countless battles and failed rituals, this man had none. His skin was flawless. His features, strikingly handsome and symmetrical. His long black hair was perfectly smooth, eyes glowing with authority and calm superiority.

He looked like what Azrael imagined he could have been… if his life had gone another way.

'What the hell is this?' Azrael's mind spun. 'Is this some illusion? A trick by Bellatrix? Where even *am* I?!'

Suddenly, the figure interrupted Azrael's thoughts.

"Are you even listening to me?" the man asked, sounding more annoyed than angry.

Azrael snapped back to attention and instinctively stepped into a fighting stance.

"Hey!" he roared. "Who the hell are you?! Send me back right now—or you'll die a miserable death!"

The figure raised an eyebrow.

Then burst out laughing.

A deep, confident, amused laugh that echoed through the strange space like thunder.

Azrael's rage boiled over.

His red aura of Domination surged from his body like a raging storm.

"You think this is funny?! I'll—"

But before he could even finish, the man flicked his finger.

In an instant, Azrael's aura vanished—dissolving like mist in sunlight.

The figure tilted his head.

"That's too weak to harm me. Let me show you… a *fraction* of what real Aura of Domination looks like."

He extended a single palm.

From just one finger, a new red aura began to leak out—darker than blood, deeper than rage, and colder than death.

Every hair on Azrael's body stood up.

'This… this pressure… it's choking me—!'

The man smiled, then flicked the aura forward.

It hit Azrael like a divine spear.

His body cracked.

Then shattered—fragmenting into glowing particles as if reality itself had rejected his existence.

Azrael was dead.

But then, with another flick of the man's finger—

His body reformed.

Bones, blood, soul, and power—all reconstructed in seconds.

Azrael opened his eyes again.

And this time, they were wide with pure terror.

The man laughed again.

Not mockingly—but almost nostalgically.

Azrael's voice trembled.

"W-Who… Who the hell are you?! What was that power?!"

The figure smiled, folding his arms.

"I am… you."

Azrael's breath caught in his throat.

"Haven't you figured it out yet?"

Azrael stepped back, cautious now.

"But how is that possible? *I'm* here."

The man nodded.

"Yes. But you're from a different timeline. It's complicated."

He sighed.

"But listen to me—we don't have much time. I'm not here to harm you. I'm here to help you."

Azrael eyed him carefully.

'He's not lying… If he wanted to kill me, he could've done it without effort.'

He nodded slowly.

"Alright. I'm listening. What the hell is going on?"

The figure's expression turned serious.

"A summoning ritual has been initiated. And 'you' have been summoned to the human realm."

Azrael blinked.

"Impossible! If you're really me, then you know exactly what kind of power we possess! I'm a royal—one of the highest of my bloodline. If a mere human from the lower world tried to summon me, they'd be torn apart before the summoning was even complete!"

"I know what you're talking about," the figure said. "But this isn't just 'any' human. The bastard I'm talking about… is far from normal."

He exhaled, a rare hint of unease entering his voice.

"In fact… I regret to say you'll never meet someone as insane and amazing as that one."

Azrael narrowed his eyes.

"Who the hell is it? Should I kill him when I meet him?"

The figure paused.

That pause… spoke volumes.

"No," he said slowly. "That's what I came to warn you about."

He stared Azrael down.

"Never try that. Or he'll make your life even more miserable and believe me I'm speaking from experience."

Azrael blinked.

For the first time in years… he felt something close to caution.

'What kind of monster is he talking about… that even someone like me is scared of…?'

The figure continued.

"Listen carefully. The person I'm talking about is insufferable. Unbearable. I can't even count how many times I wanted to punch his smug face and beat the shit out of him."

He clenched his fists, clearly remembering something unpleasant as memories came crashing down.

Then, he exhaled.

"But let's not talk about that… Some bad memories are starting to bubble up."

Azrael was silent.

For once, he didn't know what to say when suddenly.

The space around them suddenly began to crack like glass under pressure. Thin fissures of light spiderwebbed across the dark sky of that realm, expanding rapidly.

The figure looked up with a faint sigh.

"Oops. Looks like I wasted too much time."

He turned his gaze back to Azrael.

"Listen closely. The person you're about to meet… is unlike anyone you've ever seen. He's chaotic, reckless, sometimes downright infuriating. But he's also the only one who can help you achieve your goals."

Azrael frowned, his hands still clenched.

"You're joking. That guy? A human?"

The figure smiled knowingly.

"Believe me or not, he's the most amazing and incredible person you'll ever meet. I'm not saying that lightly. There's just one thing about him…"

He paused, voice quieter.

"The problem is he's always led by his curiosity. No matter how dangerous. No matter how foolish. He charges ahead without thinking about the consequences. Even if it kills him."

Azrael raised an eyebrow.

"And you're telling me to trust someone like that?"

The figure nodded.

"Yes. Because there will come a time when even he—with all his powers will feel miserable by take on burdens that were never his to carry. As he will walk a path drenched in blood and pain."

He looked Azrael in the eyes.

"And when that happens, more than soldiers, more than power… he'll need friends. People who will stand beside him when the weight of the world threatens to break him."

The cracks in the space spread further, widening. The realm trembled under some unknown force.

The figure continued, voice steady despite the rumbling.

"I wasn't there for him when it mattered most. And something… horrible happened."

His voice broke for just a moment, eyes shadowed by regret.

"I don't want you to repeat my mistake."

Azrael swallowed hard. For the first time, he didn't speak. He simply listened.

The figure stepped closer, his divine energy rippling.

"One last thing."

He raised a hand as energy sparked around him.

"No matter how hard things get. No matter how much you start to doubt. Just believe in him. Don't turn your back on him."

He stared deep into Azrael's soul.

"And whatever you do—never betray him."

Azrael's expression hardened.

"I don't do betrayal."

"You say that now," the figure said grimly, "but you can't imagine what he'll do to you if you ever do. He doesn't just hate betrayal—he becomes something else when it happens."

A cold shiver raced down Azrael's spine.

'What kind of human is this guy talking about…? Who the hell is this person that even l am being warned to not cross?'

Then the figure's voice softened.

"There's more I'd like to tell you… but there are restrictions. I can't speak freely about the future. But I can give you one thing."

The light behind him flared again.

"Azrael… Father and Mother are alive."

Azrael's eyes widened.

His heart skipped a beat.

"What…?"

The figure smiled.

"You heard me. They're alive. And that human—he's the one who will lead you to them."

"You're serious?" Azrael asked, stunned. "You're not lying to me, right?"

The figure nodded with warmth in his eyes.

"I swear it. You'll understand when the time comes."

Just as those words left his lips, the cracks in the realm tore fully open.

Light exploded in every direction.

The figure began to fade.

"Looks like my time's up."

He began to dissolve into particles of light, becoming one with the crumbling realm.

"Remember everything I told you, Azrael. All of it."

His voice grew fainter.

"And one more thing. There's a girl you'll meet one day. I can't tell you her name, or when it'll happen. But she has purple hair… and gray eyes."

Azrael narrowed his eyes.

"A girl…?"

The figure's fading voice became sharp and urgent.

"The moment you see her… kill her."

Azrael's brows furrowed.

"What?!"

The figure continued, desperate now.

"That girl… she'll cause a tragedy that will break him. Break *everything*. The world, the people he loves, even *himself*. And though he'll recover… he will never be the same again."

Azrael shouted as the light consumed them both.

"HEY! Where the hell are you going, you bastard?! Give me a name! A sign—SOMETHING!"

But it was too late.

The figure vanished.

And the entire realm shattered into nothingness.

------

A/N:

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