"La… la… la…"
A melody stirred where sound should not exist.
It drifted through the void like a fractured memory, thin and hollow, as though the darkness itself were humming a lullaby long forgotten. There was no source to the sound, no echo to measure its distance—only the melody repeating, folding in on itself, unraveling and stitching itself back together again.
Within that endless black, something opened its eyes.
They glimmered faintly, crimson rings suspended in pale sclera, half-lidded and unfocused, as if awakening from a dream that refused to let go. The gaze belonged to a young lady—if such a term could still apply here—her skin ghostly white, drained of warmth and life, her form barely outlined against the abyss. She floated weightlessly, curled into herself, arms wrapped tightly around her knees as though bracing against an unseen cold.
She illuminated nothing.
There was no ground beneath her, no sky above her, no sense of direction or time. Only drifting. Endless, aimless drifting.
Where was she?
She did not know.
How long had she been here?
She could not tell.
It felt like forever—an eternity stretched thin, snapping and reforming without pause. Time had no meaning here. Memory, too, seemed to dissolve, slipping through her grasp like mist.
And then, a thought surfaced.
Clear. Deafening.
Who am I?
The question echoed violently within her mind, far louder than the song that still whispered through the void. It reverberated again and again, each repetition sharper than the last, until her chest tightened with a sensation she could not name.
She blinked.
Something warm slid down her cheek. Thick. Sticky.
Not the lightness of water, but with a hint of the sharp metallic scent of iron— unmistakably blood. A single crimson streak stained her pallid skin, glowing faintly against the darkness before disappearing into nothingness.
She did not react.
Instead, she closed her eyes, as though ignoring it might erase its existence. Her arms tightened further around her legs, her body curling inward as she surrendered once more to the drifting.
But her mind betrayed her.
Words surfaced—fragments of phrases she did not recognize, yet somehow felt intimately familiar. They played on repeat, disjointed and broken, like the remnants of a prayer long abandoned.
"May… death… be upon you…"
Her brow furrowed faintly.
"Day… and… night…"
A pause.
"Death… Death…"
Her body stilled. The words carried weight. Meaning. Intent. A wish. Not spoken aloud, but carved deep within her being.
"Death, come for me… tonight…"
The voice whispered within her, trembling yet resolute. Unfortunately, the void offered no answer.
The melody faded.
And she sank once more into her slumber, suspended between existence and oblivion, wondering—dimly, distantly—whether she would ever awaken again.
Or whether she would simply be… found.
"What do you mean she's not here?!"
The frozen cell trembled violently under the force of his roar. Ancient stone walls groaned in protest as raw power surged through the confined space, rattling iron bars, shattering icicles, and sending cracks spiderwebbing through frost-covered bricks. Water burst forth from the fractures, cascading down the walls in violent streams as the temperature spiked and dropped in erratic waves.
Malum stood at the center of it all, eyes blazing with fury, his presence alone threatening to tear the prison apart.
Before the destruction could escalate further, Iblis lifted a finger. With a subtle flick, reality itself obeyed. The quaking ceased. The cracks sealed. The water froze mid-fall and receded back into the walls as though nothing had happened. The cell returned to its cold, oppressive stillness.
"I know who you're looking for."
Iblis said calmly, his tone infuriatingly composed.
"And I assure you—nothing escapes my knowledge. Especially not matters involving you."
Malum's breathing was heavy, controlled only by sheer force of will.
"But we didn't take her. That much, I can guarantee."
He tapped his chin thoughtfully, crimson eyes gleaming with intrigue, before a low chuckle slipped from his lips.
"It's actually quite fascinating. I heard reports—rumors, really—that some low-ranking demons attempted to seize her. Bold, foolish creatures. But then… she vanished. Completely. No trace. No echo. Poof."
He shrugged, casually.
Malum slammed his fist into the frozen wall. The impact sent a shockwave through the cell, ice shattering beneath his knuckles. Pain flared briefly, but he ignored it. Rage burned hotter.
She had been taken right in front of him and now she was nowhere.
Not in Hell.
Not in Iblis's domain.
Not anywhere his reach could find.
It was a game—Hide-and-seek played on a cosmic scale. Even the vilest beings crawling across Earth had no knowledge of her whereabouts.
Malum ground his teeth together, jaw clenched so tightly it ached. He dragged a hand down his face, fingers pressing against the bridge of his nose as he exhaled sharply. His frown deepened, dark and dangerous.
Iblis watched him with open amusement.
"That expression. Losing your puppet must have wounded your pride. Quite deeply, I imagine."
Malum snarled, the sound low and venomous.
"Enough. Just where the hell is this girl."
The shift was immediate.
Iblis's smirk faded, replaced by something far more serious. His gaze sharpened, and for the first time, uncertainty flickered across his features.
"She's hidden... Hidden… even from me."
Iblis said slowly as Malum's eyes narrowed.
"And that worries you."
"It does. If neither of us can see her, then something—or someone—far greater is interfering."
Iblis folded his arms. A chilling realization settled between them.
"You're saying…"
Malum began.
"I'm saying, that this girl is valuable enough to be concealed from us. And there's only one being who would dare such a thing."
A name went unspoken.
The Creator.
Malum exhaled heavily.
If Ene was part of a greater design—if she had been claimed as a piece in the Creator's long, unfathomable plan—then this was no ordinary loss.
It was the beginning of something far worse.
Malum turned away, frustration and dread warring within him.
"It never ends well."
He muttered. In the silence that followed, even Hell seemed to hold its breath.
A true calamity was approaching.