Did he die today, yesterday, or perhaps tomorrow?Once, he had been an ordinary man. Now — the Lord of Hell, the one who overthrew Lucifer himself.A million years of battles, countless sacrifices, an army of the fallen... and in the end — silence.
They called him the Master. He was praised and feared.But in the ruins of his victory, he was left alone — a broken crown in his hands, and three names etched into his heart: Grey. Bella. Mother.
This chapter is the story of the end of his journey. A story of grief, choice, and hope.The story of a demon who dared to become human again.
In the depths of Hell, where no living thing could survive, stretched the endless desert of Samatha.Once barren, it was now littered with mangled corpses. The air stank of iron and blood.The relentless sands slowly formed new dunes, burying the desperate struggle beneath them.
Not long ago, these bodies had belonged to merciless warriors who had struck terror into the hearts of lesser devils foolish enough to cross their path.Now all was still. Only time continued its funeral march.
Atop the tallest dune knelt a lone figure.Unmoving, he resembled a statue, steeped in an aura of sorrow and solitude.His face, smeared with blood and dust, showed no emotion.His eyes stared toward the horizon, where fields of lifeless bodies stretched to the very edge of sight — a silent testament to his victory... and his curse.
Only if one looked closely could they see a single tear slowly tracing down his dust-covered cheek.
This man, once a beautiful youth — now merely a lost demon — was the one they called the Master.For a million years, his name alone had inspired terror. Devils had thrown themselves to the ground at his approach, and monsters had fled with tails tucked between their legs.
But how had it ended?
Not so long ago, in this bleak wasteland, his endless legions had raised their banners high. Their fierce aura seemed ready to devour the skies themselves.Yet, for all their might, they had always been an army of the doomed.
They had known it. They had known survival was impossible.But survival had never been their goal.They fought to tear down their enemy.They fought to offer up their lives in honor of their Master's dream.And they gave everything.Their bodies, their blood and sweat, their hearts and souls.
Only madmen would come to this place.And every one of them had fallen.Only the Master remained to carry on the fight.
He had swept across the battlefield like a storm.Thousands of commanders fell by his hand; dozens of generals lost their heads.At last, he personally struck down Lucifer, Lord of Hell.He tore a pyrrhic victory from Lucifer's clawed hands, and as proof, he clutched the black, jagged crown, its cruel points digging bloody furrows into his skin.
Yes, he avenged the fallen.But he never heard their final cries — the last words they had screamed with all their fading strength.They fought for him. They believed in his cause.And what did they receive?An unmarked grave beneath the dunes.
For three days now, the Master had knelt without moving, struggling to remember why he had begun this path.Why he had gathered countless armies.Why he had led them to slaughter.Why he had clung to meaningless existence for a million years.
Yes, this was Hell.Yes, killing was second nature here.Yes, life itself was a curse, synonymous with pain, despair, and fear.
But still... was it worth it?
Diving deep into the oldest corners of his mind, the Master remembered the moment he first arrived — a green, raw soul by Hell's brutal standards.He recalled the early years, wandering the First Layer, dreaming only of ending the endless agony and mercifully burning away in the fires.
Those times were torture.Back then, death seemed a beautiful dream.
Every step across Hell's surface was like walking barefoot over shattered glass.Every breath seared his lungs, already scorched by unrelenting flames.Thirst and hunger became his only companions.
Worst of all — loneliness.For a thousand miles in every direction, not a single living soul.
He walked endlessly, not knowing how far, why, or where — simply searching for something he could no longer name.
He walked, clinging desperately to the fading shards of a life before this hell — a life he could no longer remember, no matter how he tried.He walked, mindlessly repeating three words:
"Grey. Bella. Mother."
Only those names kept him from losing his mind entirely.They became his mantra. His anchor against the sea of madness.
Days blurred into decades.Decades into centuries.And still, the battle raged on — a senseless, endless slaughter.
It was a war to satisfy an eternal hunger with the flesh of enemies and to quench an unending thirst with their blood.A war without mercy, where every blow was meant to devour, destroy, erase all that lived.
Slowly, the green youth became a ruthless killer worthy of the name Master.His body grew covered in scars and wounds.The eyes that once shone bright blue were now burning red, betraying the predator within.
In this realm ruled by darkness, death, and pain, there was no place for the weak.Only the strongest survived — and he had become the embodiment of that law.
He would do anything to feed his insatiable hunger, knowing neither exhaustion nor pity.
He had become a predator — utterly consumed by the thirst for blood and flesh.He was no longer just a soul trapped in Hell.He was part of it.Part of the endless slaughter.
And through it all, the predator whispered, screamed, prayed:
"Grey, Bella, Mother.""Mother, Grey, Bella.""Bella, Mother, Grey.""Grey — Mother.""Grey — Bella.""Grey, Grey, Grey, Grey, Grey!"
Until, at last, after endless years of hunting, he encountered another sentient being — one as lost as himself.
The creature repeated a single word: "Pallok."
Again and again, just as he had repeated "Grey, Bella, Mother."
Something about it caught his attention, sparked a flicker of forgotten curiosity.
Instead of attacking at once, the Master slowed, observing.His crimson eyes narrowed, evaluating the creature.The predator in him demanded blood — but something deeper, almost forgotten, held him back.
Finally, unable to resist his bloodlust any longer, he lunged, teeth aimed for the creature's throat.But it was not a killing blow — there was a strange, almost playful hesitation in his strike.A glimpse of the emotions he had not felt in millennia.
"Grey?" he growled, sinking his teeth into his opponent's flesh.
"Pallok," the creature rasped back, swinging a heavy arm to strike at his ribs.
They grappled, clashing fiercely — but it was no longer a fight for survival alone.There was something else now — a fragile thread of recognition, an echo of connection.
"Mother?" the Master croaked, loosening his grip for an instant.
"Pallok!" the creature roared.
"Bella!" the Master cried, leaping back.
"Pallok, Pallok, Pallok!!!" the being screamed in answer.
After a long, brutal struggle, they collapsed side by side, gasping for breath, endlessly repeating now four words.
Thus began the journey of two "highly-evolved" predators — finding in each other a reflection of their own pain and loss.
It was the beginning of a new chapter for the Master.The beginning of the path that led him to the desert of Samatha, where now he knelt with a crown of absolute dominion in his bloodied hands.
The Master finally rose from his knees and staggered toward the giant's still body.Each step felt heavier, as if molten lead filled his legs.
It was Pallok's corpse — his first general. His true friend.He had grown so much over the endless years.
The Master pressed his forehead against the giant's cold skin and whispered, voice trembling:
"Farewell, my first general. Farewell, my friend... Farewell, Pallok..."
"Thank you for everything. I pray that where you have gone, there is no more pain. Rest in peace."
He felt his resolve waver.A part of him wanted to stay here forever, mourning the fallen, drowning in grief and regret.But the stronger part — the part that had carried him through a million years of torment — whispered firmly:
"Don't stumble.""Don't look back.""Keep moving.""You chose this path. You must not regret it. Death is not your answer. This opportunity is a gift. Take it — both hands — and keep going."
"There is no time for grief or guilt. You always knew the road to your goal would be paved with mountains of corpses."
With a heavy heart, the Master turned away.
His gaze hardened. His resolve solidified.He knew he had to keep walking.He could not afford to drown in sorrow.
He placed the bloodstained crown atop his head and set out toward a solitary tree — ready to put the final mark on this journey.
Passing by Lucifer's mangled corpse, he picked up a broken dagger and a shattered katana.Then, in a last act of defiance, he stepped heavily on Lucifer's hateful face.
In the distance stood a small tree.Its sparse green leaves seemed almost illusory, and a single plum-sized fruit swayed gently from its branch.
The tree did not belong here.It was the legendary Tree of Reincarnation — born from the flames of a phoenix.A Fruit of Life, grown in the Realm of Death.A living contradiction.
The fruit's surface glowed softly, filling the air with a faint, sweet fragrance.There was no doubt — it was fully ripe.
This single fruit had thrown all of Hell into chaos.It was the Master's final goal — or rather, the means to reach it.
With one swift motion, he severed the fruit.
Voice trembling, he whispered:
"Bella, Mother... I don't know what awaits me. I've done everything I could. I leave the rest to fate. I pray... I'll find you again..."
And then his voice changed — ringing with power and command:
"By the authority granted to me by Biblical Hell, I, Grey — called the Master — the current rightful ruler of Dimension 169,563,271,458 — hereby declare my resignation and departure for reincarnation!"
The black crown blazed with brilliant light.All of Hell trembled.
Without hesitation, the Master swallowed the fruit in a single, desperate gulp.
In the same moment, he drove the broken katana into his heart and thrust the dagger between his eyes.
And — in the blink of an eye — he vanished from the bloody desert, leaving behind only the echo of a single word that drifted across the endless wasteland.