Arc 1: Asmodeus – Lust (Chapter 2 of 2)
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Desire is not always loud. Sometimes, it waits in silence — until silence becomes unbearable.
Lucen stood before the ruined dream theater, its shattered remains a monument to the illusion he'd just walked through. His right arm was wrapped in the dark, living weapon — Velkaria. It pulsed with an eerie, almost sentient heat, a reminder of the game he was trapped in. It wasn't a sword. It wasn't a beast. It was something in between. A shadow made of memory and fire.
He stepped forward, deeper into the realm of Lust, feeling the air shift. The world around him was melting, bending like a painting left too long in the rain. Buildings, trees, and shadows began to twist, slowly forming faces — some smiling, some crying, others begging. They watched him with hollow eyes, like spectators at his own downfall.
Lucen (gritting his teeth):
"Your voice is gone, Asmodeus. But your game still plays."
He shut his eyes, focusing. One breath. Two breaths. A monk's discipline. In, out. In, out.
But then there was a scent. A whisper of something familiar. Something impossible.
He turned.
There she was.
Not Asmodeus. Not a devil. A girl.
Her.
The one he used to love. The one he had trained beside. The girl who had died in the fire. His fire.
Lucen (whispering, stunned):
"...Yara?"
She smiled at him, that same smile from years ago. The one that had made the world seem less heavy. The one that had made him forget everything he carried.
Yara (softly):
"You still remember me... even now? Even after what you've become?"
Lucen's heart stuttered. His fingers clenched, and a tremor ran through him.
Lucen:
"You're not real. You're part of this illusion. Just another trap."
Yara:
"Maybe. Or maybe I'm the piece of you that still hurts. You carry guilt like a monk carries prayer beads."
Her hand reached out, touched his chest. No pain. Only warmth.
Yara:
"You never let yourself want again. Never allowed yourself to feel. That wasn't strength, Lucen. That was fear."
Velkaria, still coiled around his arm, twitched. It tightened, responding to the darkness creeping in.
Lucen (grunting):
"Don't — try — to confuse me..."
Yara (eyes now glowing, like Asmodeus):
"I'm not confusing you. I'm revealing you."
Lucen roared, summoning Chastity. A glowing sphere appeared at his back, its radiant light pushing the illusion back, but Yara's form faded only momentarily. The sadness remained.
Lucen fell to his knees, the weight of it all crashing down.
Lucen (to himself):
"I see now. Lust isn't just about the flesh. It's memory. It's weakness wearing perfume."
Velkaria shifted again, no longer a whip, but a ribbon of thought. It hovered before him like a scroll, inscribed with a message in black fire:
Message on the ribbon:
"True power is not in wanting… but in denying what is easy to want."
He stood. The illusion was gone. But something else lingered. Something deeper had been awakened.
Not Lust — but self-awareness.
Lucen understood now. Asmodeus didn't give him a weapon to control others. No. He gave him a mirror. A leash. A test.
Lucen (to himself):
"I have to conquer this. Or it will shape me."
The ground trembled.
A crack ran through the earth beneath him. The air grew thick. Violent.
From the horizon, a figure emerged.
Beelzebub.
Grotesque. Slouching. Laughing. A crown of bone fused to his head. His mouth stretched across his chest, tongues lashing out like vipers.
Beelzebub (voice like spoiled wine):
"What's this? A little snack walking on two legs? I smell Lust on you... warm and fresh. Did you come to feed me, Zaqel?"
Lucen's eyes narrowed. He didn't flinch.
Lucen:
"I didn't come to feed you."
He raised Velkaria, the dark weapon twisting in the air.
Lucen (coldly):
"I came to starve you."
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End of Chapter 19
Next: Chapter 20 – "The Belly of Hunger"