Kazuki woke up with a start, his breath shallow and quick. The echoes of his strange dream—the throne, the fiery figure, Azrakar—still buzzed in his mind like a persistent insect.
He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to steady himself. His right eye, still glowing faintly red, made it hard to focus. His reflection in the cracked mirror above his desk seemed... unfamiliar. The features were his own, but the eyes—those weren't his.
He looked away quickly. It felt wrong.
The night passed in a haze. Every sound, every shadow, made him jump. Was it just stress? Or had something truly... awakened inside him? He didn't want to think about it, but the pull was undeniable.
Later that day...
Kazuki slouched in the back row of the classroom, trying his best to blend into the background. Another day, another lecture he couldn't care less about. The glow in his eye had faded, but the sensation of something lingering in the air, just beneath his skin, never left.
The bell rang, signaling the end of school. He didn't rush out with the others. The world felt too heavy.
Kazuki meandered down the empty hallways, eventually stopping by the gym where the usual group of bullies waited for him.
He could hear their laughter echoing, too loud, too sharp. His chest tightened.
"Look who it is, the freak."
One of them, Hiroshi, stepped forward with a smirk. Kazuki had long since stopped caring about the taunts, but today... today felt different.
His heart raced. His breathing became shallow. His right eye—no, Azrakar's eye—flared up again, burning with an ancient rage.
"You think you're better than us, huh?" Hiroshi sneered, pushing Kazuki back.
Kazuki's hands balled into fists, and before he could stop himself, a burst of dark energy surged from his body. The gym doors slammed open, and the walls cracked, sending tremors through the ground.
Hiroshi and his friends scrambled back, fear replacing their arrogance. But Kazuki wasn't thinking. His mind felt distant, like he was watching someone else's body. The black fire pulsed around him, glowing brightly, then fading into the air like smoke.
The Theater Scene
Kazuki staggered backward, stunned by what just happened. But before he could process the surge of power, he felt a familiar pull, a strange coldness seeping into the room.
The flickering lights overhead buzzed, then went out. The TV screen in the corner of the room flickered to life on its own.
He turned to face it, eyes narrowing.
The same eerie theater he saw before materialized on the screen. A dark, empty stage. Shadows crawled across the velvet curtains.
The figure from his dream—Azrakar—stepped into the spotlight, a confident smile curving his lips.
"So, you've finally unleashed it... my power."
Kazuki's breath caught in his throat. He couldn't move, couldn't speak. The voice, the presence—it was overwhelming. He tried to turn away, but his feet were frozen in place.
"It's not your power, boy," Azrakar continued, his eyes glowing with cruel amusement. "It's mine. And now that it's awakened... there is no escaping what's to come."
Suddenly, the figure raised his hand to the sky, and the entire theater cracked and splintered. Flames burst from the ground, roaring up like a dragon. The heat was suffocating, but Kazuki couldn't look away.
He was drawn in.
Before Azrakar could speak again, the screen blinked out, leaving Kazuki gasping in his living room, drenched in sweat.
The TV returned to its static hum. His heart thudded in his chest, erratic, as though something deep inside him had broken free.
A few moments later...
Kazuki stepped outside, breathing in the cool evening air. The night seemed quieter than usual, and the weight of the world pressed on his shoulders.
But something was different. It wasn't just the power, or the strange dream. There was something... something darker moving in the shadows.
As he walked, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He couldn't shake the feeling that someone—no, something—was watching him.
Far Above, in the Cathedral
High above the city, in an ancient cathedral hidden beneath the clouds, the distant figure of an angel stood, eyes scanning the city below. She raised a hand, calling out into the ether.
"It begins. He's returned." Her voice echoed through the empty halls.
Another figure emerged from the shadows—a cloaked figure with a cruel grin.
"The Demon King has been reborn... and so must we."
To be continued...