It was a summer day.
The heat was suffocating.
The cicadas kept chirping.
The smell of roses.
A reminiscent dream,
That he did shake off,
But can't remember anymore.
Fresh grass brushes his fingers,
Trees are wavering,
The wind is ceasing.
An encounter,
And its beginning.
A new dawn rises.
Eternal sleep beckons him.
To pass on the torch, he must.
A fate shared by the same individuals.
A never-ending journey in Tamia.
The cycle… Shall truly end tonight.
"So… Does this mean Luka can marry Saki now?" Alma Elma mused from the sidelines, sitting right next to Vinum and Succubus-chan.
Every succubus in the house sat together, watching the festival unfold before them. They had witnessed Luka's enjoyment many times, but this… this was different. There was a light in his eyes, an uninhibited joy they had never quite seen before.
How could we have been so blind?
All this time, they thought they understood him. They thought he was happy. But now, as they watched him bask in the festival's warmth, they realized the truth—he had never been this ecstatic. Not even Alma Elma, who prided herself on knowing him best, had seen him like this before.
"Probably," Vinum replied with a sigh, resting her chin on her hand. "Unless he's already fallen for that girl."
Astaroth, seated just behind Alma Elma, let out a soft sigh. "So… does this mean we'll have to leave soon?"
Lilith, who had been quietly observing the festivities, finally spoke. "We still don't know how to get home. Perhaps this festival will reveal the answer."
A strange silence fell over them as the celebration roared on.
For the first time, they weren't the ones directing the pleasure. They weren't the ones being desired, pursued, or adored. Instead, they were just watching something out of their control.
Then, a voice cut through the noise.
Est stood in the center of the grand stadium, raising a microphone. "The festivities will soon be coming to a close. I want to thank everyone for attending this special event, and I—"
A slow, deliberate clapping interrupted her, echoing louder than her own voice. The rhythm was steady, insistent, almost mocking in its measured pace.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
"Congratulations," a man's voice rang out. "Congratulations."
The tone was polite, but there was something about it—something cold.
A ripple of unease spread through the crowd. The succubi tensed.
Then, from the sky—
A book fell.
It landed at Est's feet with a dull thud. Open.
Vinum was the first to react, shooting to her feet, eyes wide with alarm.
"Close that book, you fool—!"
But it was too late.
The red book's cover split wide, and in the space where there should have been pages, two eerie eyes opened.
But the red book's eyes opened, and after a blinding flash took over the stadium, a woman stood in its place.
Pale white skin as if she had never seen the sunlight. Elongated dark hair in strands that fell to the floor. A curvaceous naked body, and red wings that curved around her like a demonic halo.
The crowd's roar faltered, replaced by a stunned hush as every eye locked on her. Est stumbled back, the microphone slipping from her grasp with a metallic clatter.
"Congratulations and Adiós," the man's voice declared.
Her eyes—crimson as spilled blood—flashed open, twin beacons of dread, while a third, vertical eye slit her forehead, unveiling itself with a chilling grace. Before anyone could draw breath to respond, a wave of raw, unbidden ecstasy crashed through the stadium. Moans erupted in a warped chorus, the succubi collapsing to their knees, bodies quaking as relentless orgasms seized them, a symphony of pleasure twisted into torment.
"What… is happening?!" Succubus-chan hissed through clenched teeth as the wave struck, her legs buckling beneath her.
Vinum fought against the suffocating aura flooding the arena, her jaw tight as her gaze darted to the small bedroom where Luka stood. The woman advanced, her steps deliberate, ignoring Est's writhing form on the floor, her focus locked on—
"Don't you dare touch him—!" Vinum's voice cracked alongside Alma Elma's, a twin cry of fury and fear.
Minagi however was the first to act, her fists joined together in a holy and dark fusion to strike the woman.
The woman suddenly shifted her focus toward the threat, her arm raised to intercept the blow. An invisible wave of power pushed back Minagi's entire body, her feet skidding on the floor.
"Stay away from my disciple!" she gritted her teeth, her wings launching multiple wind blades toward her.
But the woman's aura blocked it all, standing unharmed, unfazed by the attack.
Alma Elma joined soon enough, her hands joined, forming a ball of energy she had learned during the multiversal crisis.
"Kamehameha!" she yelled, a wave of ki erupting from her hands and shooting toward her.
Minagi's head snapped toward the ki blast, her eyes wide in astonishment.
WHAT IN THE WORLD IS THAT TECHNIQUE?!
The beam tore through the air, a blazing streak aimed to obliterate. The woman didn't flinch. Her third eye pulsed, and the ki wave bent, twisting harmlessly around her like water parting over stone. Alma Elma's jaw dropped, her arms trembling from the effort.
"Useless," the woman said, her voice a soft taunt. She flicked a finger, and the stadium floor cracked, a ripple of force knocking Alma Elma back. Minagi caught her, steadying them both as they glared at the intruder.
"No–!" Alma Elma panicked as she saw the woman approach the bedroom, as if drawn like a moth to a flame.
"Stay away from him!" Vinum suddenly appeared on top of the building, her fist coiled with dark energy as she lunged toward the woman.
"Oh. You." The woman didn't even glance at the tiny succubus, flicking her finger again and swatting Vinum aside like an annoying gnat.
"Ugh—!" Vinum groaned, her body skidding across the floor with a harsh scrape.
Now, with no one left to bar her path, the woman took another step forward—
"Hohoho! That boy belongs to me, not you!" a new voice rang out, bold and unfamiliar.
The Hatman, perched atop the stadium, peered down, his lips curling into a scowl.
That damn fox… What's she doing here?
A purple streak flashed into the arena, landing squarely between the woman and the building. With a swift twist of her wrist, she flung a talisman, her nine tails fanning out in a graceful arc behind her.
The talisman slammed into the woman's aura, unleashing a shockwave that rattled the stadium to its bones. The woman froze, stunned for a fleeting heartbeat, her crimson eyes narrowing as the force rippled around her.
"Who dares—?" she spat, her third eye pulsing with renewed fury.
The purple fox woman smirked, her golden eyes glinting with mischief as she brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Hohoho… Daji, at your service," she laughed haughtily, bringing a hand to her mouth. "And my idea of pleasure doesn't match yours."
The pure white-skinned woman regained her footing, her wings flaring wide. "A kitsune?" she sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. "You should've stayed on your mountain—"
"I think not," Daji cut in, unfurling a fan to shield her face with a flourish. "You see, after claiming these nine tails, I've grown quite attached to that boy," she purred, her smirk sharpening with wicked delight.
She drew two other talismans from her kimono and rustled them with her fingers. "You're the one who is being used, lady!" she threw them again, colliding with the aura.
The talismans struck, sparking against the shield. The white succubus lifted her hand, a swirling orb of black and red energy crackling to life. But before she could release it, Minagi surged forward, her fist slamming into the creature's jaw with a thunderous crack, all her strength unleashed in one fierce blow.
Blood trickled from the woman's lips, her body reeling for a split second.
"What a pity…" the Hatman sighed from his perch atop the stadium, peering down with a grimace. "A goddess in her realm, yet faced with beings just a step beneath her, she's helpless… Utterly pitiful."
"I'll turn you to—" the white devil snarled, but Alma Elma cut her off, driving a swift elbow into her spine with pinpoint precision. Another punch smashed into her face, followed by Daji hurling a talisman that flared against her aura, fraying its edges.
"And that Daji…" the Hatman chuckled darkly. "How'd she snatch all nine tails? Now she's truly Luka's old mentor, isn't she?"
Well, none of this matters. I am not here to defeat them anymore…
The Hatman has already been defeated, after all.
Another sharp jab landed on the pure white devil's face, resounding in the stadium. With her aura disrupted, the succubi all began to stand up, their face drenched in sweat from the continuous orgasms they suffered.
Now, it was as simple as a beatdown. With no moment to breathe, the woman was beaten continuously by Alma Elma, Minagi and Daji, their fists and talismans connecting with every passing second.
When suddenly, Minagi and Alma Elma finally found another clear opening, their hands joined.
"With me, my disciple!" Minagi yelled, her joined hands forming a chaos fusion once more.
"Stop calling me that!" Alma Elma growled, her fists swirling with fire and ice magic before joining together in a fusion.
Before the devil could even react, they struck from each side, an explosion ravaging the stadium. Dust and smoke billowed up, the blast's roar fading into a tense silence.
The white devil was obliterated, leaving no trace behind beside the book from which she came.
"Is it over…?" Minagi blinked, her eyes darting around.
"I'm afraid no," Daji replied with a smirk, her eyes moving up. "We still have a pest to eradicate."
"I am glad you think so," the Hatman's voice echoed again, startling everyone.
"The Hatman?" Minagi growled. "I thought I killed him?!"
"You did," the voice confirmed, sounding entirely unbothered.
Then, from above, he dropped, landing effortlessly a few meters away. His wide-brimmed hat was clutched in one hand, his expression unreadable.
"Glad to see you're all right, foxy," he mused, tilting his head toward Daji.
"Hmph." Daji's tails bristled, her golden eyes narrowing. "I'll make you pay for what you did to me."
"Right, right," he chuckled, waving a dismissive hand. "So? How does it feel to have all of Luka's old master's memories rattling around in that head of yours?"
"Shut it," Minagi snapped. "How the hell did you survive?"
"I did."
"How?!"
The Hatman shrugged. "Why should I tell you?" He twirled his hat between his fingers, his grin widening. "Seriously, who gives away the secret to beating them first thing? That'd be stupid."
Minagi's fingers twitched, her blood boiling. "You son of a—"
"Now, now," the Hatman interrupted, wagging a finger. "No need to get so riled up. I just crawled out of death itself. The least you could do is show some manners."
"I have a question," Alma Elma said suddenly, her piercing gaze locked onto him.
The Hatman turned to her, intrigued. "Oh? As long as it doesn't involve personal matters, it should be fine."
She didn't blink. "Are you Luka?"
The Hatman's grin didn't fade, but something about him shifted. Subtle. Almost imperceptible.
Then—
A laugh. Slow, deliberate, oozing amusement.
"Oh, that's a good one." He clapped once, lazily. "Me? Luka? Are your eyes deceiving you, succubus? I am nowhere near being him."
"Then why do you smell—"
"Tsk, tsk." He wagged a finger in front of her. "You're all missing the mark. Zero points."
Something in the air changed. The pressure around them tightened, like invisible threads closing in.
"But it doesn't matter." He raised his hand, fingers poised for a snap. His smirk widened. "I thank you all for handling that bitchy devil over there. It took me a while to set this up in such a nice, enclosed space."
Daji's ears twitched—too late.
Her eyes widened in horror. "Stop him, now!"
The Hatman chuckled.
"It was fun, but… truly, goodbye, everyone."
A blue ripple coursed through the Stadium, the bodies of the succubi suddenly glowing and—
Snap.
Luka rose from his slumber. It was still night outside, the room he was in still warm from his activities with Fulbeua.
However, there was no one beside him inside. The candle wasn't lightened, and the bed felt strangely big with him all alone.
Where was she? It made no sense for someone like her to suddenly leave but…
"Perhaps she had something to do…" Luka mumbled while ruffling his hair. Taking a steady breath, he dressed, fastening his clothes with deliberate motions before stepping toward the door.
The moment he opened it, the cold night air greeted him.
The stadium still stood before him, grand and imposing. But it was different.
Silent.
No cheers, no laughter. No voices calling his name.
The succubi who had once filled the arena, celebrating, calling out to him, were gone.
Not even Fulbeua's presence lingered.
Only the wind remained, howling through the empty expanse like a distant whisper.
"Do I… need to marry Saki now?" Luka muttered to himself, the words feeling hollow the moment they left his lips.
Something was off.
Everything was wrong.
Yet, the contract still pulsed within him—a silent assurance that the succubi were alive, untouched. If they were safe, then why did his chest feel so tight?
A slow breath. He took a step forward, scanning the eerie stillness of his surroundings.
Then, he saw him.
Perched atop a fallen slab of stone—a remnant of the stadium's destruction—sat him.
One leg draped over the other, his hat resting lazily at his side. His gaze was distant, fixed on the false horizon, as if contemplating something beyond Luka's understanding.
The Hatman.
Waiting.
Luka felt his fists tighten instinctively. His breath hitched, taken over by a slow exhale filled with fury. His pupils dilated, and his heart slammed against his chest.
"Oh, you're awake," the Hatman said, turning with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Took you long enough to crawl out."
He plucked his hat from the stone, settling it atop his head with a flick, then rose, brushing dust from his trenchcoat in a lazy cascade.
"Where is everyone?" Luka whispered, his eyes fixated on him, ready to move if he ever as made a single wrong twitch. "What are you doing here?"
"They're gone, Luka," he replied, his eyes distant before meeting his.
Something was off.
Luka felt it deep in his gut, but that could wait.
"Gone…?" he repeated, fists tightening until his knuckles blanched.
"Back home. Wiping them all out was too much hassle in the end," the Hatman chuckled, tipping his hat. "You're free of them now. Happy?"
"The fuck are you on about?" Luka growled, stepping closer. "What do you mean 'back home'? How did you…"
"Easy," the Hatman said, shrugging with one hand in his pocket. "That prissy white chick wouldn't help me wipe them out or even cut a deal. I figured out how to make everyone forget them, but it'd be pointless—your little dream girl would just fight back and bring the memories back anyway. And besides," he tilted his head, locking eyes with Luka, "you'd find a way to undo it no matter what. Wouldn't you?"
"That doesn't answer my question…" he growled, his patience thinning.
"Oh, why they're back home? Easy. I hijacked that rabbit's tricks and sent them packing. Little dream dragged them here, but she didn't see me flipping the board around," he chuckled. "Being in a dream made it simple. As a nightmare, a few Control spells here and there, and they were caught like fish in a net. All I had to do next was to force them to leave."
Luka's blood was boiling now. "And that's it? You just tossed them away like that?"
"But that's not why I'm here," he sighed, stepping forward. "I just wanted them gone for now. You might see them again if you figure out my trick."
Luka's eyes narrowed. "Your trick? What trick?"
"This world, no—this universe is ruthless. Bending it to my will is what I was striving for, and in the end, I failed miserably. Even now, being able to force an exit, is not enough. The multiverse is truly grand, I've seen it. During the portal crisis, I was brought back thanks to its numerous possibilities. I kind of want to be able to hop between dimensions like that, catch my drift?"
"Shut up and say it straight!" Luka snapped, jabbing a finger at him. "You think I'll listen to you? A bastard like you—"
"Should just die, right? I know. We both know. Because we are the same, we share the same identity, and once, we shared the same dream."
Luka froze.
The Hatman wasn't smiling. No, even while chuckling he wasn't smiling.
And right now, he just acknowledged him as his equal.
"Your girl created me," he said, as the sky bled orange with dawn's first light. "I am the last man she killed, before your arrival in Tamia and after you put an end to it. A young man, devoured by a succubus so that she could survive at death's door, his trust betrayed after he had saved her."
The wind swelled, his coat billowing like a dark sail, echoing that cursed day.
"I reset Tamia endlessly, hijacking your body to cheat death, hopping timelines like a fugitive. All for that dream—to reclaim my future, to tower over them. But really? I just craved another sunrise, one more day."
The Hatman's voice grew quieter, but Luka could feel it sinking deep, like a cold weight pulling him under.
"To take back my future. To see them from above... But deep down, all I wanted was to see a new dawn rise in my life, forever and after. To see another day." The Hatman's eyes grew distant, his tone turning almost wistful. "I had set an unending cycle on others, all in the name of that dream."
"Unending cycle…" Luka whispered, his voice faltering. "You're…"
Just like me. Afraid of death, lonely, and incredibly petty toward those stronger than me.
The fear of an end. The fear of losing control. Of being insignificant. Unheard by all.
"A survivor. No matter what it takes, no matter how many lives I should take, I should crush. I will survive. And yet… It feels meaningless now. Because you—you are not a failure like I called you in Tamia. You are what I strive for, yet imperfect."
There was no malice in his eyes, no mocking grin, only the quiet acknowledgment of shared suffering.
"So now… I shall take back our old dream," the sun began to rise, its golden rays shining in the horizon. "Luka, only one of us can control the world. And only one of us will achieve it."
He took a step forward, grabbed his hat and threw it away. His hazel eyes pierced through him, his face showing clearly—
"I am Lucas. Lucas Morgen. The original. It is time to end our little strife. A shot at your vengeance, and for me, a shot at finishing what I started."
Luka stared at him, his eyes searching his.
He wasn't joking. This was not a simple duel, nor a fight Luka wanted. He wanted to fight the Hatman, not some blabbering fool talking about a dream he couldn't achieve.
But he was there, waiting.
Everyone was gone, except them. No succubi to help, no friends, just lonely men fighting every day for what they truly believe in.
However…
The place shifted to that old place. A smoky area, their heart made form, the same place where Luka had died so many times, living the deaths of all the Luka's that died in his cycles.
The ground was made of his own bodies.
The sky was made of his own bodies.
The gathering of all the Lukas that had fallen against the Hatman in Tamia.
"The dream we share," Lucas Morgen continued, the smoke rising once more until the Stadium was fully covered in it. "Do you remember what it was?"
Luka's fists tightened. Remember? How could he? All those cycles—those endless resets—each one erasing the last, leaving nothing but the haunting echoes of failure. No, he refused to remember. He couldn't let himself be tied to that dream. That dream had brought nothing but destruction.
"No," Luka muttered, his voice low but firm. "And I won't. Because it's a stupid dream, and it doesn't justify anything you've done. And you're not part of us , part of the people forming this place. You are the failure here. The one who strayed from the righteous path and became a monster."
"So you reject me still…"
"Always," Luka's eyes hardened. "You are but a fool who traversed life without meaning. How many years has it been? A million? Two million? You've been alive for so long that you're not even human anymore. Just a ghost clinging to my identity like it ever mattered."
"I am me," Luka continued. "I am them. I bear the responsibility of many of me who wanted to end this cycle. To finally reach a new dawn different than the end you brought."
"And I want another chance," Lucas muttered, his finger pointed at him. "So… We both know what we have to do, right?"
Luka didn't answer immediately. Instead, his finger began to glow, a bright light emanating from it, sharpening in intensity with each passing second.
The sun had fully risen now, its light spilling across the battlefield, illuminating the faces of these two fractured souls, locked in a deadly duel of destiny. There would be no escape this time.
He wasn't afraid of him anymore, no one was.
Because he was here, and he would kill him.
The two facing fingers now flashed with even more intensity, until—
"DAWNSTAR!" they both shouted at the same time.
One created with the resolve to change an ill future. The other copied to have another chance to change.
The two beams of light collided in midair, the explosion throwing out shockwaves that rattled the very foundations of the battleground. The sky above them split into a vast chasm of light, lighting up the already-lit sky in white.
The ground was melted from the combined heat, the smoke billowed, and inside it—
They clashed. Arm against arm, both enhanced with magic, their bodies in the air. Luka slid his right arm to punch the Hatman, but he dodged at the last second to deliver a shark knee into Luka's abdomen.
"Urgh!" he grunted, his body flying backward until he hit the ground. The Hatman followed by throwing multiple talismans toward him, each glowing intensely. Luka reached inside his jacket and threw only one, creating a barrier that protected him just in time. The talismans exploded, leaving a trail of smoke behind.
Luka's breath came in sharp gasps, his body aching from the force of the impact. The battlefield was a warzone—melted earth, scorched and cracked, with the remnants of their earlier blow scattered across the arena. His skin burned from the intense heat, but his focus remained razor-sharp.
The Hatman hovered above the smoke, another searing light at his fingertips.
Luka's eyes blazed with fury, his hands reaching for another talisman.
For once, the one who mimicked had become the mimic. It was an ironic twist, and Luka allowed himself a moment of grim satisfaction at the thought.
Another Dawnstar, this time more concentrated to a single laser shot toward him, and Luka threw a talisman before putting his hand on the hot ground.
"Control!" he yelled, the talisman reacting to it. The blast of light was suddenly deviated by a few inches, Luka springing to his feet to avoid the concentrated blast as it exploded against the ground behind him.
The shockwave sent debris flying, but Luka was already in motion, his body a blur as he rushed forward.
Luka leaped into the hair, his body a blur of motion as a talisman flared in his jacket, giving the boost he needed to close the distance. The Hatman's eyes flared with intensity, his own hands moving to launch another attack.
But Luka was faster. He wasn't reacting anymore; he was controlling the flow of the fight. He wasn't a copy, mimicking the actions of the past. He was something new, different.
With a scream, Luka slammed into the Hatman with full force, their bodies crashing to the ground. The Hatman rolled backward before pulling out a shotgun from his trenchcoat aimed directly at Luka. But Luka was already one step, ahead, his hand pushing away the barrel before his other slammed into the Hatman's face with a crack.
Then, before the Hatman could stagger backward, Luka's fist opened, and a searing light scorched his palm.
A burst of flame erupted from it, engulfing the Hatman's body entirely. But even in the fury of the flames, the Hatman didn't falter. His body twisted through the flames with a grimace, his hands swiping to deflect the heat, his eyes locking onto Luka with an intensity that seemed to burn even brighter than the fire itself.
"You think this ends here, Luka? Come on! Bring it!" the Hatman's voice crackled with a manic grin as he traced an arc with his hand, launching multiple talismans behind Luka. They formed a circle, drawing magical energy from the air.
"I won't let you!" Luka growled, his own talismans launched to form circles as well. it was his technique, no way he was getting beat by it.
The Hatman aimed his shotgun again, and pulled the trigger.
Luka's instincts kicked in. Without thinking, he twisted in the air, his talismans sparking to life, forming a barrier just in time. The shot rang out with deafening force, but the barrier absorbed the impact, rippling under the pressure as if it were barely holding itself together.
Luka's heart pounded in his chest. The shot made his feet slide against the ground, but he held on.
The Hatman's grin widened as he hurled another set of talismans toward Luka, this time creating chains that snaked toward him.
"Balweiln!" Luka shot in desperation, his arm tracing an arc to create multiple wind blades that sliced through the talismans, cutting off the spell entirely before the chains reached him.
"Dawnstar!" the Hatman grinned, multiple lights appearing behind him, all with the same power as one Dawnstar.
SURPASS ME, LUKA! The Hatman grinned.
Luka's eyes widened at the sheer intensity of the incoming attack. He didn't have much time to react.
In fact, he had no defense prepared for it. The Hatman's grin never faltered as the light behind him grew, burning brighter and brighter with each second. The air around them crackled with energy, and the ground seemed to tremble under the immense force being summoned. Luka's instincts screamed at him, but there was no avoiding this one.
However—
He had another plan.
He closed his eyes, the magic circles he summoned earlier spinning with renewed intensity.
"Conceptual magic…" he muttered, his eyes suddenly opening to face the blinding light in front of him.
The first blast of light shot forward with blinding speed.
The one who lost everything—
Shall not obtain the world, no.
He shall control not the world, but the only thing he can—his own life.
The light sped toward Luka with a force that threatened to disintegrate everything in its path. The very air shimmered, the heat unbearable, but Luka's eyes remained fixed, unblinking, as the world around him seemed to slow.
My wish… was always simply to see everyone around me smile.
And you're in my way!!
The world around him shattered. The blast of light tore through the land, incinerating everything in its path.
But Luka wasn't here.
He had shot toward the light, right inside it, reappearing through the smoke right in front of the Hatman.
"Wha—?!" Lucas' eyes widened, the grip of his shotgun flatering for a brief moment as he saw the young man pass through the Dawnstar completely unarmed.
The only thing he could do was summon a barrier to protect himself, a blue veil that was the last wall between him and Luka.
But the young man's fist shattered through it, finding the Hatman's jaw in one shockwave.
For a split second, the Hatman's expression twisted in disbelief, his shotgun falling from his hand, forgotten in the wake of the unstoppable force bearing down on him.
"You—" The Hatman's voice faltered, but it was cut off as Luka's relentless punch sent him flying backward, skidding across the shattered earth. Dust and debris were kicked up in his wake, the remnants of their battle falling like rain around them.
The Hatman came to a halt, lying in a heap, his body struggling to regain its composure. His chest heaved with each breath, and for the first time, there was no mocking grin, no arrogance in his eyes. Just raw pain.
Luka stood tall, his chest heaving with the aftermath of the attack. His hand, still trembling from the impact, hung at his side. He didn't need to say anything. He didn't need to explain. His actions had spoken louder than words ever could.
Thus, the Hatman had no other choice.
A dark shadow surrounded him, clinging to him like death itself until it formed dark arms and claws. He stood up facing Luka, his eyes glowing red as he uttered his spell with a growl. "Dark… Rondo!"
"So you'll take me down with you…" Luka muttered, his fists clenching at his sides.
That's right. I want you to get desperate, to hate me. Hate me and fight. You are the only one that can—
"Dark rondo," Luka didn't hesitate, the black shadow swirling around him.
"Wha—"
"I'll kill you. No matter what it takes it shall be me that ends your life, not some pathetic spell."
The spell that announced their death after five minutes of its activation, Luka unleashed it without even thinking twice about it. And, in a blur, he shot forward, his eyes bloodshot with rage.
"Shit—" the Hatmanalmost laughed as he brought his hands together. "This is insane! Let's go!" he cackled, his Conceptual magic brought to life. "World control!"
His Conceptual magic, World Control , had taken hold, warping the environment to his whims. The sky above them shifted unnaturally, and the very ground trembled beneath their feet as the buildings around them twisted and reformed into grotesque shapes, responding to the Hatman's will.
But Luka, consumed by nothing but the rage that had carried him to this point, didn't flinch. His bloodshot eyes locked onto the Hatman, and everything else faded away.
A slab of cement shot toward him, its jagged edges aiming to crush him, but Luka didn't even hesitate. With a roar, he swung his fist forward, the impact of his punch shattering the stone like it was paper. The debris fell harmlessly around him as he shot forward once more, ignoring the crumbling world around him.
Another wave of debris flew at him—larger this time, a torrent of metal and stone. It was an assault meant to overwhelm him, to slow him down, but Luka was past all of that. His fist punched through the air once again, breaking through the storm of rubble like it was nothing.
The earth cracked open, creating slowly a canyon that Luka jumped over. The Hatman followed by multiple Danwstars shot at him, but Luka replied with the same energy, balls of fire exploding near the earth and sending waves of earth crashing through them.
The Hatman sneered, his eyes flicking to the incoming debris and blasts. He raised his hand, trying to deflect them, but Luka's onslaught was relentless. The heat of the fire, the force of the earth—he couldn't stop it all with his contol. The Hatman's body was rocked back by the impacts, his feet sliding in the crumbling earth. His expression twisted with frustration.
"Babylon's cage!" Luka growled, multiple talismans suddenly appearing around the Hatman, Each one augmenting his strength exponentially with each individual use.
"Ahaha! That's it!" his enemy cackled, raising a block of stone from the earth the size of a building. "Give me every—"
But instead of gaining gradually some strength like the Babylon's Cage is supposed to do with each use of the talismans—all the talismans suddenly flashed.
"WHAT?!" the Hatman's eyes widened in disbelief. The talismans now all turned into light surged toward Luka, all accumulating in his left arm, wrapping around him like chains. He raised his arms quickly in a block, but even at this distance—
"Svelto, 100!" Luka yelled, his fist tearing through the air with a strength that threatened to tear his own arm off. The shockwave from his strike compressed the air in front of him, sending it rocketing forward like a bullet at Mach 10. The ground beneath him buckled, cracking open with the force, and the shockwave tore through the battlefield like a knife through paper.
The Hatman, already reeling from the previous assault, had no time to react. The shockwave slammed into him with bone-shattering impact. The stone he had summoned as a shield was obliterated in an instant, reduced to dust.
The Hatman's body was sent hurtling backward, spinning through the air like a ragdoll. He crashed through multiple debris scattered across the Stadium, his movements jerky and uncontrolled. His mind raced, struggling to comprehend what had just happened.
That kid! How the hell is he—?
Before the Hatman could even process the thought, Luka appeared above him in a flash, as though his body had materialized mid-air. It was almost impossible to track. Luka's movement was unnatural—too fast, too fluid, as though he could control his own position in space with ease.
He can—control his own position?
Before he could form any strategy, Luka's knee slammed down onto the Hatman's chest, sending shockwaves through the earth upon impact. The ground beneath them shattered in intricate spiderwebs, the force of the blow splintering the very foundation they stood on.
The Hatman let out a strangled cry as the air was knocked from his lungs, his body forced deep into the earth. He struggled to breathe, feeling the weight of Luka's knee pressing down on him like an immovable mountain.
Luka stood over him, the determination in his eyes unwavering. There was no mercy in his gaze, only the harsh reality of the fight he had brought to its climax.
But even as he stood victorious, his body bore the brutal cost of his power. His left arm, the one that had delivered that devastating final blow, was in ruin. Blood dripped freely from deep wounds, the bones shattered beneath the strain of his own strength. His breath was uneven, his body trembling on the edge of collapse.
And yet—his stance never faltered.
The Hatman could only stare, his vision swimming as he gritted his teeth against the pain. His body screamed at him to move, to fight, to do something . But it was too late.
His body was crushed, and he could feel blood pooling in his mouth, thick and metallic. A deep, burning agony spread through his ribs—probably shattered. His organs? Failing.
Damn it…
The Hatman gritted his teeth, his breath ragged as he tried to move, but nothing obeyed him. His fingers twitched, barely, but the rest of him felt like dead weight. Every nerve screamed, his mind foggy from the sheer amount of damage he had taken.
And yet, Luka still stood over him. Silent. Unmoving.
No victory cry. No arrogance. No rage. Just an unshakable presence—one that made it clear this fight was over.
Luka's chest rose and fell heavily, his body trembling from the aftermath. His left arm hung limply at his side, a ruined mess of flesh and bone, but even so, he refused to acknowledge the pain. His entire being was still locked onto the Hatman, as if daring him to make one last move.
The Hatman tried to chuckle, but all that came out was a gurgling cough.
"You're…" Luka began, having trouble speaking. "Gonna respawn, aren't you?"
The Hatman smirked, his eyes betraying his answer.
"Then… I acknowledge you as us," Luka coughed, his hand touching the man's forehead.
Ahah… Of course.
"I don't fear you anymore… You're just pitiful."
A pause.
Then— light.
"...And someone I hate."
A searing, overwhelming glow burst from Luka's hand, engulfing the Hatman's form. It wasn't fire, nor raw destruction, but something deeper. A conceptual force, unraveling him, erasing him from this moment in time. The Hatman didn't scream, didn't fight. He simply exhaled, letting the light take him.
"So… You truly are multiple people in one, huh…" the Hatman rasped, his eyes meeting Luka. "How the fuck did you survive Dark Rondo…"
"I died a lot recently," Luka sighed, his face full of contempt. "It was hard to get a grasp on the different souls inside me. But thanks to Vinum's comment, I managed. Dark Rondo simply released someone else from my body."
The Hatman's lips twitched, amusement and something else— something like understanding —glinting in his fading gaze. "So that's…"
"Soul Control," he replied, his gaze never leaving the Hatman's. "For as many lives you took from me, I shall return. And you are one of us now."
The Hatman felt himself unraveling, dissolving into something far beyond comprehension. The light stripped away his presence, his thoughts, his self—yet deep within Luka's words, he understood.
For you are me.
And I am you.
The Hatman let out a final breath—then, at last, he was gone. The light faded, entering Luka's body, and the world around them shimmered, the hold on the dream now gone as the last nightmare disappeared.
Luka barely registered the shift. His vision blurred, his body barely holding itself together. The pain in his arm was a distant thing, drowned beneath exhaustion deeper than flesh.
With his wound still open, he looked up, standing right in front of his house.
The neighborhood was still waking up as dawn only began to arrive.
Luka's breath hitched, but he didn't move. His shoulders sagged, his mind catching up to the fact that it was over.
At least… for now.
He pushed the door open with his good arm, his eyes distant.
There was no succubi to greet him, but instead—
"So you've finally arrived."
Luka blinked.
Ntwali stood inside, his usual relaxed posture shifting the moment his gaze landed on Luka's battered form. His sharp eyes flickered with concern. "Oh? Your… Wait, did something happen at the festival?"
"..." Luka stayed quiet, his eyes darting to the side. His mind felt foggy, as if he couldn't really control what he was doing.
Ntwali studied him for a moment, then sighed. "Anyway, we need to get you patched up. Come here."
Without waiting for a response, he stepped forward, grabbing Luka by his uninjured arm and pulling him inside. Luka didn't resist. He was too tired to.
After a few minutes, his arm was all patched in bandages, his mind still foggy.
"Saki…" Luka muttered, his voice hoarse from the strain and the pain.
"The trial is over, Luka," Ntwali smiled at him, though there was a tremor in his voice he picked up on. "I will assist with your wedding."
"Alright…"
He looked around the house, his eyes resting on the couch where Morrigan used to play.
But no one was there. Had they truly gone home?
I hope… I hope they finally went back home. And I pray everything will be alright for them…
"Are you wondering why everyone is gone?" Ntwali asked, sensing Luka's unease.
Luka nodded, his eyes still distant, still glazed over from pain and exhaustion.
Ntwali leaned back slightly, folding his arms. "Saki was the one who brought them here," he explained with a small, knowing smile. "Now that the trial is over… Well, they could have stayed, but it seems like they didn't."
Luka exhaled slowly, trying to process the words. A part of him had known this already. It made sense. And yet…
The house felt emptier.
"…I see." His voice came out quieter than he intended.
Ntwali studied him for a moment, then clapped a hand on his good shoulder. "Come on. Saki is waiting for you."
Luka didn't argue. He was too tired to.
In fact, he couldn't care less now. After ending the Hatman, he felt empty.
Ntwali guided him upstairs, to his room, his hand pushing the door open. There she was, in his bed, waiting.
"Finally you're here," she smiled, patting the bed next to her. Her eyes flashed with concern over his bandaged arm for the briefest of moments, but she quickly regained her composure.
"Saki…" Luka muttered, his eyes narrowing. "Why… Can you explain now?"
But suddenly, a searing pain took over his left arm, the red mark—
Glowing again.
Luka's breath hitched as the pain in his left arm flared, white-hot and searing. His body instinctively tensed, his fingers twitching as if trying to shake off the agony, but it was useless. The red mark on his skin—the one he thought had faded—was glowing again.
His mind wasn't capable of controlling his thoughts anymore, and before he knew it, he found himself on the bed with her in his arms.
"Let's begin the wedding, Luka," she whispered, nodding to Ntwali, who slipped out with a quiet step.
The door clicked shut, sealing them inside the room. Saki's fingers brushed his chest, light as a whisper, but the mark's glow seared brighter, a crimson thread stitching pain through his veins. Luka's jaw clenched, a guttural groan escaping as he fought to anchor himself.
"Bear with me," she whispered, hugging him tighter. "Luka, I am going to ask your body a question, then your heart, and then your soul. If they answer yes, then it's official."
"Does your body love me?" she asked, and Luka's arms instinctively wrapped his arms around her, the heat in his cheeks flaring.
"Yes…" she closed her eyes, feeling his desire within him. "Do you love me?" she asked his heart, his emotions.
Luka's chest heaved, a storm of longing and defiance warring within. The mark throbbed, syncing with his racing pulse. He wanted to fight, to demand answers, to scream at her for everything that had led them here. But, through gritted teeth, a hoarse whisper slipped free. "Yes…"
"I am not controlling your words Luka," Saki said as if she understood his resistance. "I am not putting these words in your mouth, I swear. I just need you to… stay put. Now, does your soul love me?"
There, she saw it, memories flooding her mind.
A clearing under the summer's sun.
A tavern, dimly lit, where she danced with a grace that made everything else fade away.
Memories belonging to two different people, two different moments. One was the Hatman, bitter and cold, saying he hated her. The other—Luka's own—was of falling in love with her.
But it was the second memory that overwhelmed the first. The love he had for her burned brighter, more real, more undeniable than any hatred or fear.
"I love you, Saki… No matter what," he whispered. "I will always love you, even if you're annoying, even if you're lying because I know that deep down you love me more than anything."
There was a slight pause, his eyes closing from the fatigue.
Despite his need for answers. Despite his need to tell her something.
"I love you, Luka," he heard through a sob, her lips pressing against his for a fleeting moment. Warm droplets fell on his cheeks, not his but hers.
And his mind gave away to sleep, as if entranced into a lullaby.
The room seemed to blur around Luka as his senses faded in and out of focus. The pain in his arm, though still sharp, became distant, muffled by the pull of exhaustion. Saki's presence, warm and close, anchored him as everything else melted away.
The light from the glowing mark dimmed, its presence no longer as oppressive, now fading to a dull throb beneath his skin. He felt the gentle rhythm of Saki's breath against his own, the way her heartbeat matched his—a calming pulse that soothed his fractured thoughts.
"I love you, Luka," she repeated, before she kissed him again. Her lips were soft, trembling against his as tears fell.
"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…" she began to sob.
Even asleep he could hear her trembling voice, feel her tears cascading over him, his shoulder.
Until, eventually, he heard nothing.
The clock ticked.
A new day came.
Luka opened his eyes slowly, the memories of the past day flooding his mind.
The festival, the Hatman, the succubi—all gone. All he had left, fortunately, was Saki by his side.
Still…
Something is off.
He blinked, his shirt still wet from lingering tears. He looked around, the sun was high in the sky, probably the afternoon. In his bed, he was alone. The clock still ticking.
Something is off.
He stood up from his bed, the pain in his left bandaged arm throbbing again. The contract with the succubi was still here, but another mark was here again. Silent, as if it didn't even dare to make itself known.
But I know it is here.
Silence in the bedroom, his only breath reaching his ears. No succubi, no one to greet him.
He opened the door to the hallway, the remnants of feminine clothes on the bathroom floor.
He heard voices below. Two, precisely.
Something is off…
He descended the stairs, and headed inside the living room. On his couch, he could see Ntwali, discussing with the man holding the balance, Relius Caelius.
Ntwali turned to face him, his face grave.
"Where is Saki…?" Luka asked, his chest throbbing at the sudden silence.
Ntwali's gaze shifted away from Luka, his eyes darting to Relius for a brief moment before returning to him, sympathetic.
Or rather, pained.
"She's… gone, Luka. Saki is no longer of this world..."
"She is dead."
T̶h̶e̶ E̶n̶d̶