Thunder roared overhead as black clouds choked the afternoon sky. Rain poured in heavy sheets, drenching stone and soil alike, as if the heavens themselves sought to cleanse the sins of the land. But what soaked the muddy execution ground wasn't just water... it was blood.
Crimson pooled in shallow dips across the earth, mixing with the muck, churning beneath the boots of laughing soldiers. The scent of wet steel, smoke, and decay permeated the air, clinging to every breath.
At the center of the square, a boy was bound tightly to a splintered wooden post nearly three meters tall. Ropes dug into his bare skin, cutting through half-healed welts and fresh bruises. His black hair hung over his forehead, soaked and clinging to his pale face, blood trailing from his nose to his lips.
"Still alive, are ya? Damn cursed brat!"
A soldier jeered, stepping forward with a jagged rock in hand. He hurled it with a grin.Thwack! The stone struck the boy's chest. He flinched. Coughed blood. But made no sound.
He simply breathed.
Slowly. Steadily.
As if the world no longer mattered.
His name was Lucifer Rhyn. A sixteen-year-old slave. Born at the edge of the empire. Sold before he could speak. Raised under chains. Whipped into silence.Now sentenced to death—not for murder, nor treason, but for laying hands on a royal soldier during an escape.The truth? He had only protected an old woman from being beaten.
But in the eyes of the Empire, the powerless had no right to resist.Especially those without magic.
"Look at him! Still got fight in his eyes!"
"Tch. Should've gutted him instead of wasting rope."
"Hey, how 'bout we carve a few curses into him before the lightning takes him?"
The crowd of guards and spectators buzzed like insects. Some spat. Others laughed.Most looked at Lucifer like he was something less than human.
He remained quiet.
Not because of fear.Not because of pain.But because he would not bow.
His defiance was silent, carved deep in the way he held his chin just slightly raised, even as blood trickled from his temple.
Suddenly—
A thunderclap unlike any before tore through the sky. A bolt of violet lightning cracked downward, striking the earth just meters in front of him.The ground exploded. Debris and light sprayed outward. Several guards stumbled back, shielding their faces.
"W-what the hell!?"
"Sorcery!? Someone's casting—?"
But it wasn't a spell.
As the haze cleared… something rose from the cracked soil.
A sword.
It emerged slowly, unnaturally. Blacker than any metal, its blade shimmered like liquid shadow. Runes flickered faintly across its surface, then vanished like they were never there. The rain seemed to slide around it, untouched.
It was... breathing.And it was calling to him.
Lucifer's body trembled. His wrists were raw. His vision swam.But his mind was still his.
Then a whisper entered his skull. A voice not quite male, not quite female. Cold. Timeless.
"Do you want to live…?"
"Trade me… something precious… for true freedom."
Lucifer's breath hitched.
His body, broken as it was, moved.
He twisted his arm—snap!—a sickening crunch of bone against rope.Pain burst through his nerves. But he didn't scream.
"He's moving! Kill him—now!"
A guard lunged, spear raised.
But Lucifer's hand was already outstretched—shaking, bloodied—And closed around the sword's hilt.
The world fell away.
He was no longer in the square. No longer in the rain.
He stood in an endless white void, alone—No sound. No walls. No gravity.
In front of him stood a tall, featureless figure. Draped in black robes that rippled without wind.Its face was empty—no mouth, no eyes—But two violet flames hovered in the air where eyes should be.
"Give me… what you love most."
"Trade it… and be reborn."
Lucifer hesitated.
Only a second.
"I trade… my memories of my family."
A pause.
Then the shadow reached out. Its hand was ice. Smoke. Fire. Emptiness.
It pressed against his forehead.
A searing light.A scream—not his, but ancient, echoing across dimensions.
Then—darkness.
When he opened his eyes again, he stood—unbound—In the center of the execution ground.
Rain pelted the earth around him. Guards froze mid-motion.
Lightning curled at his feet.The black sword vibrated in his grip, humming with power.
Lucifer's eyes now glowed—rings of violet and black intertwined.A strange silence surrounded him, as if the world held its breath.
The soldiers backed away.
The crowd went still.
And Lucifer spoke, voice rough but steady:
"I will not die here."