Vengeful Ascension: The Rise of a Demon Emperor

The throne room lay silent now, save for the distant crackle of fires outside and the faint creak of splintered stone. Shadows stretched across the broken walls, flickering in jagged rhythms as if they, too, bore witness to the massacre that had just unfolded.

Amidst it all stood Adrian Falter, a lone figure draped in grief and rage. The dark energy that emanated from his body pulsed like a living thing, tendrils of shadow curling and writhing in the air. His crimson eyes—cold, unfeeling—burned through the smoky haze. Blood marred his pale skin, his sword still dripping with the lives it had taken.

And across the room, Lucas stood in the doorway, frozen. His heart pounded as his wide, disbelieving eyes took in the destruction before him—the shattered marble, the charred remains, and the silence of a room where nothing should have survived.

But the worst part wasn't the ruin. It was Adrian.

"Adrian…" Lucas breathed, the word barely a whisper. His voice trembled, cracking under the weight of disbelief and horror.

Adrian turned slowly, his bloodstained sword hanging loosely in his hand. His red eyes locked onto Lucas with an expression that made his old friend's stomach twist—a look so empty it seemed to swallow what was left of the light in the room.

"What have you done?" Lucas asked, his voice hoarse.

Adrian blinked, as though the question itself was meaningless. "I did what had to be done," he said, his tone hollow, almost mechanical.

Lucas's jaw tightened, his trembling fists clenching at his sides. "This… this isn't justice, Adrian. Look around you!" He gestured wildly at the bodies scattered across the throne room. "These people—you slaughtered them!"

Adrian tilted his head slightly, crimson eyes flicking toward the lifeless bodies strewn at his feet. His expression didn't change. "They chose their side. They stood in my way."

"They were human, Adrian!" Lucas shouted, his voice breaking. He pointed at the shattered remains of a young soldier's helmet. "That could've been someone's brother. Someone's son! You're no better than the demons we fight if this is what you've become."

The accusation hung in the air like a dagger.

Adrian's fingers curled tighter around the hilt of his blade, his face twisting in something unreadable. "Don't compare me to them," he said quietly, his voice cold enough to chill the room. "I'm doing what no one else will. They killed Mohan, Lucas. They took everything—everything! I will make them pay."

Lucas's heart ached at the mention of Mohan's name. The old man's laughter, his stubborn guidance, his unyielding loyalty—it all came rushing back. But this wasn't what Mohan had stood for. This wasn't the legacy he had left behind.

"And what would Mohan say if he saw you like this?" Lucas demanded, stepping forward. "Would he be proud of this? Of you?"

Adrian's gaze snapped back to Lucas, his red eyes blazing with anger. "You don't get to speak for him!" he hissed. "You weren't there. You didn't watch him die. You didn't—"

He stopped himself, his voice cracking slightly at the edge. For a fleeting moment, Lucas thought he saw something human flicker in Adrian's gaze—grief, regret—but it was gone as quickly as it appeared, smothered by rage.

"Humanity is a weakness," Adrian said darkly, straightening. "It's what killed Mohan. It's what let this empire rot from the inside. If I have to become a monster to fix this world, then so be it."

Lucas took another step closer, his voice softer now, though his words carried the weight of his sorrow. "You're wrong, Adrian. Humanity isn't weakness. It's what gave us strength—Mohan's strength. Yours. Ours. This… this darkness you've chosen, it's not going to bring him back. It's just going to destroy everything he fought for."

Adrian looked at him for a long moment, the shadows around him still swirling, as though waiting for his command. "You don't understand," he said finally. "You never will."

Lucas's voice trembled. "Then help me understand. Let me help you."

Adrian turned away, his back to Lucas as he stepped toward the shattered doorway. "There's no helping me, Lucas," he said, his voice as cold and final as death itself. "This world doesn't need me—it needs to be burned and rebuilt."

Lucas's eyes widened, panic rising in his chest. "Adrian, don't you dare walk away from me! Don't do this!"

But Adrian didn't stop. His steps echoed in the broken silence of the room, each one heavier than the last.

"Adrian!" Lucas shouted, his voice breaking as he reached out toward his departing friend.

Adrian paused briefly at the threshold, his shoulders tensing. For a split second, Lucas thought he might turn back. But then Adrian spoke, his words cutting through the stillness like a blade.

"This world took everything from me, Lucas. I'm just returning the favor."

And with that, Adrian stepped through the doorway and disappeared into the shadows.

Lucas sank to his knees, his outstretched hand falling limp at his side. The silence that followed was unbearable. The shattered throne room seemed to close in around him, the weight of what had just happened pressing down on his chest like a vice.

"Why…" he whispered, tears spilling down his face. "Why couldn't you see what you're becoming?"

Memories flooded his mind—Adrian laughing at their campfire, sparring with Mohan under the midday sun, grinning through bruises after a hard-fought battle. Those memories felt like a lifetime ago now, taunting him with the ghost of who Adrian had been.

"I won't give up on you," Lucas said quietly, his voice shaking but resolute. "No matter how far you go, I'll bring you back. That's what friends do."

His tears fell freely now as he bowed his head, the broken throne room bearing witness to the promise that would guide him forward.

* * *

Outside, the world was a different kind of ruin. Adrian walked through the crumbling outskirts of the empire, his steps echoing against the emptiness. The distant fires smoldered like dying embers, and the wind carried the faint scent of ash and blood.

The weight of Lucas's words gnawed at the edges of his mind, but he shoved them down, burying them beneath his resolve.

"They don't understand," Adrian muttered to himself, his red eyes fixed on the crimson horizon. "No one understands."

Ahead of him, the border of Erebos loomed—a land of darkness and chaos, a place that mirrored the storm now raging within him. It called to him, beckoning like a whisper in the back of his mind.

"They'll all pay," Adrian vowed, his voice low and unwavering. "The alliance, the demons, the empire itself. I'll tear it all down and rebuild it in something better."

He stepped over the ruins of a broken statue, his form fading into the shadows of the cursed land.

There was no turning back.