"My Lord! Release me from my suffering!"
The tension in my chest eased as I locked onto the prayer and isolated it from the other voices reaching me through the Marks spread across the country.
Simon Meyer.
One of the humans I had chosen for the ritual, and the latest to call on me.
Out of twenty, only ten had taken the bait.
It would have to be enough.
The dark room ignited with color as jade light flashed across it.
A middle-aged man materialized on one of the round platforms—raised a few inches above the floor—arrayed in a wide circle around me.
The last torch, mounted on the wall behind him, burst into flame, casting the room in a dim orange glow.
Simon flinched, his head snapping from side to side as he took in the other nine people occupying the remaining platforms.
They were frozen in place, expressions locked in open-mouthed shock.
I snapped my fingers.
He stilled, joining the others in a monument to mortal powerlessness in the face of the supernatural.
My gaze swept the room my apartment's divine magic had created, ensuring every detail was as I imagined it.
An entire day's worth of meticulous planning had gone into this.
Failure was not an option.
Sally would return to me.
I gave a quiet nod and layered one final illusion onto my body, aging my appearance.
The stage was set.
It was time for the audience to wake.
I snapped my fingers again and released them from their suspended state.
"Who are you?"
"Where am I?"
"What's going on?"
A slow smile spread across my face as the cacophony of voices echoed against the smooth, circular walls.
Humans never managed to retain their composure when faced with things beyond their comprehension.
"Silence."
Suffused with draconic authority, my voice cut through the chaos and imposed my will.
Near a dozen mouths snapped shut as I stepped toward the first person I had summoned.
A redheaded woman with piercing eyes.
Pretty.
For a human.
I knew everything about her, as I did for each of them.
Her name. Her history.
The reason she had been sentenced to death by lethal injection a mere week ago.
Sarah Strauss, a woman with a military background, was a clear-sighted mortal who had been caught on camera blowing up a group of young Lamia.
Instead of being hailed as a hero, she was declared a deranged killer—charged with the murder of half a dozen children—and imprisoned.
That was where I found her.
"I know you're confused," I began, my voice low and steady as I met her gaze. "Afraid. And not for the first time. You've lived your entire livessurrounded by things you couldn't explain, tortured by the disbelief of those around you."
My expression softened as I stopped just short of her.
"But I believe you," I whispered, "I see you."
Sarah's breath hitched as my words wrapped around her like a lover's caress.
All humans craved validation.
To be seen. To be understood.
None of those my flyers had reached ever had those desires fulfilled.
Until now.
"Monsters. Pagan gods. Creatures out of myths and stories."
I circled slowly and turned toward the man beside her.
Derek Sturman.
A long-term resident of the Eastern State Mental Asylum.
His records claimed the death of his family had shattered his mind.
Despite it being a clear case of a wildlife attack, he insisted on having seen a pack of demonic hounds tear them apart.
The blonde man met my gaze head-on, his fists clenched tightly together.
"They hurt you."
I returned his glare with an understanding smile.
"Hellhounds feasted on your loved ones."
Derek's expression stilled.
His hands trembled as I moved on to the stunning woman on the platform beside him.
Emilia Brown.
An up-and-coming fashion model whose career had been smothered in its cradle by a scandal involving a failed suicide.
No explanations had been given as to why she did it, but the sigs were clear for those capable of connecting the dots.
A sudden pregnancy.
A problem child with a learning disability.
An address that changed every few months.
My steps slowed as I studied the mother of a demigod, whose body I had found buried in her backyard.
"A monster, claiming divinity, violated you."
Emilia's hands flew to her mouth.
She stared at me in disbelief.
I withdrew a pace, allowing the silence to linger.
"Family butchered. Loved ones taken. Lives ruined."
My steps echoed like hammer strikes as my gaze swept over the people the Greeks had victimized.
"Each of you have experienced the horror of life under the rule of the beings known as the Olympians."
I stepped toward the most intriguing human I had caught in my net.
Robert Eriksson
A former chemistry teacher whose wife was killed by a Harpy.
Unwilling to accept it, Robert investigated the reason behind the attack—only to discover a demigod couple living in the apartment above him.
His wife had been collateral in a battle between forces beyond his comprehension.
Overcome by rage and grief, he released poisonous gas in the hallways, killing everyone inside the building.
"But your faith did not waver." My tone lowered as I planted my feet.
"You never stopped believing in the Heavenly Father."
"Who are you?" Robert demanded, a thick vein pulsing in his temple as he broke free from my influence.
Through sheer force of will alone.
"How do you know all this?"
His hand flexed at his side.
"You're one of them!"
"No."
The corner of my mouth twitched at the accusation.
"I know because I heard your prayers."
My voice deepened as I stepped back, careful to avoid the narrow channels leading from the platforms down to the middle of the room.
"I am He Who Grants Wisdom And Wealth. The three-headed dragon."
A crimson set of draconic wings spread from my back.
"You know me as the Great Duke of Hell."
Curved horns the color of polished onyx pushed through my hair.
"I am—"
"I know who you are!" Simon snapped, interrupting my carefully prepared speech as he stepped forward—only to slam headfirst into the invisible barrier I had erected around each platform.
"Do not allow yourself to be fooled, my brothers and sisters!"! He rose his voice. "If you truly are my fellow Christians like this trickster says you are, then you always knew this day would come."
His chest expanded with a breath.
"Remember the holy scriptures. Revelation 12:9:
This great dragon—the ancient serpent called the devil, or Satan, the one deceiving the whole world—was thrown down to the earth with all his angels."
The man's nostrils flared as his full attention locked onto me.
"You're even worse than those Greek abominations! You are the Great Enemy! Why should we listen to a word you say?"
I turned in a slow circle, my eyes flickering over each face as I took careful note of their expressions.
I had intended to introduce myself as the original Buné—as he was described in the Ars Goetia—but I could handle a bit of improvisation.
"For the same reason you came here," I replied without hesitation, "because it is your deepest desires."
All I had done was search the country for suitable targets and slip them one of my marked flyers.
"I am the devil."
Simon's mouth twitched, his eyes brightening for a heartbeat.
"Just as you hoped I would be."
He scoffed sharply and angled his face away from me.
"Why would we hope—"
"Because I am living proof of your faith," I cut in. "The devil cannot exist in a world without God."
Pain laced through my skull at the mention of the cursed name.
Even after its creator's death, Heaven's system was active.
"What does the devil want with us?" Robert asked.
"I have nothing left to give," Maddie Brook—a middle-aged homeless woman—muttered.
"They've already taken everything from me."
I stepped toward her, closing the distance between us with slow and deliberate strides.
"You're not the only one. The Olympians have stolen and tarnished everything each you once held dear."
My fingers brushed against the barrier before her.
"The only thing they haven't claimed yet… are your souls."
Maddie shuddered, understanding dawning on her face.
"Follow my commands, and I will ensure they never do."
"By damnning us to an eternity in hell?" Derek shouted. "Never!"
My brows furrowed as I forced a scowl.
"I do not hold dominion over the dead. Your beloved saviour saw to that. Wherever you find your eternal rest—it will be his judgment, not mine."
I tilted my head, a slow smile pulling at my lips.
"Isn't that what you believe?"
"Then why do this?" Sarah demanded. "Monsters like you never do anything unless it benefits them."
"Because I hate pagans even more than I hate that bastard up there."
I suppressed a snort as their postures eased.
Hate was what they expected from the devil. It was something they understood.
"What do we need to do?" Robert asked.
"Prove your faith."
With a flick of my will, the first layer of illusion faded away—revealing the polished silver knives at their feet.
The room went still.
"What?" Emilia asked, her voice sharp.
I gave a small shrug, cutting through the tension.
"No matter their chosen faith, every mortal born in this land is destined for the Olympian Underworld after they die. That will not change—no matter how far you run. Nowhere is safe… except here."
I spread my arms.
The torches flared brightly as my voice took on a solemn weight.
"This place lays beyond their sphere of influence. Die here—and you may yet find your way to Heaven."
A ripple of breath moved through the room.
"Do it now, or I will send you back."
I stepped back, coming to a stop near the center of the room.
They would choose death, not because I told them to, but because they had nothing left to lose.
Hope was all that remained to them—and to refuse me meant abandoning the lost thing that kept them going.
It would mean admitting to the devil himself that they no longer believed their Lord would save them.
A choked sound echoed from behind me.
Derek had taken my offer.
Another joined with a desperate slash across his throat.
Sarah and Maddie followed.
A radiant smile spread across Emilia's face as she firmed her resolve and dragged the knives from her collarbone up to the corner of her mouth.
Simon laughed, whispering one last prayer as he plunged the blade into the side of his neck—his choice breaking whatever hesitation remained within the others.
A crimson magic circle flared to life beneath them, its draconic sigil igniting as the first drop of blood fell on it.
Human bodies withered as they collapsed, the spell draining them of the last traces of their life force.
Gallons of blood accumulated across each platform, held in place by the barriers.
Soon, only one man remained standing.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, a slow breath slipping through clenched teeth.
No matter how flawless my performance, there was always on.
Robert's knuckles whitened as he glared at me as though I were evil incarnate.
"Do you question your faith?"
He lifted his chin.
"My faith is strong. Too strong for the likes of you to corrupt. Send me back. I will take my chances with the Olympians."
I rolled my eyes.
"I tried to be nice, but my patience has reached its limits."
Darkness swallowed the room as the torches died at a pulse of my demonic energy—then roared back to life, flames surging toward the ceiling.
My pupils narrowed into reptilian slits.
The blood within the barriers quacked, stirred by the force of my heartbeat—each pulse reverberating through the room like drums of war.
I leapt forward, claws pressing against the translucent barrier between us.
"You will do as I command!" I bellowed, my voice matching the bass of my pulse.
"Your soul may be beyond my reach, but I swear to the satans themselves—continue this resistance, and you will never experience the mercy of death. This world will become your hell!"
Robert trembled. The defiance drained from his face, replaced by something far more fragile.
Then I removed the barrier and leaned forward.
He fell dead to the floor moments later.
My inhumane features receded as I followed the flow of blood slithering down the platform, spilling into one of ten channels carved into the ground.
An ant was powerless beneath a boot.
A tree could not deny the lumberer's axe.
Their fate had been sealed the moment I became aware of them.
The last illusion shattered alongside the remaining barriers as Robert's blood was joined by the others, flowing into what had once been hidden.
A square pool.
My chest tightened as I strode toward it, stopping at the edge.
Inside lay a burned husk.
It was all that remained of Sally Jackson.
The body, already suspended in gallons of my own blood, was steadily submerged as more fresh blood streamed into the pool.
There were few things more potent than human sacrifices. Even more so when they were willing ones.
That was why I could not simply kill them.
They had to choose.
The deeper their belief in the cause of their death, the more power I could draw from them.
That energy now fed the regenerative effect of the pool sustaining Sally's physical form.
I bit down on my tongue, steadying myself.
There was power in self-sacrifice too.
My jaw tightened as I unbuttoned my shirt.
I closed my eyes and curled my finger around one of my lower ribs.
A choked scream tore from me as I ripped it out.
My molars ground together as I tossed the bone into the pool.
The blood ignited, the draconic essence in my offering serving as the catalyst to commence the ritual.
I descended the steps and sunk into the warm and thick liquid—dragging in a slow breath as I slashed my claws across my wrists.
Sally's body couldn't be restored—only transformed.
I realized that the moment she burned in front of me.
I had done everything I could.
The rest was a matter of the soul.
I wrapped my arms around the bloody husk and closed my eyes.
"You messed up."
I stayed silent as I advanced toward the peak of the hill I had raised within the Soul Space I shared with the Heavenly Dragon.
"Did you really think turning a human into a dragon would be so simple?"
The Buné trait was Dragonification.
The ability to become a dragon.
Just as the Phenex could heal with their tears, I could share my trait through blood.
Like Siegfried, who gained a dragon's hide by bathing in Fafnir's blood.
Like Artoria Pendragon, who was infused with the blood and magic factor of a dragon at birth.
I raised my hand and seized the brightest—yet thinest—of the crimson threads bound to me.
"Admit it," Ddraig continued. "You failed. You couldn't do—"
"I can do anything!" I snapped, pivoting toward his mountainous form.
"All I need is imagination and—"
"Power," he cut in, his green eyes gleaming.
A low rumble stirred his chest.
"As you keep saying."
His massive body coiled around the hill, claws resting idly against his tail.
"Your devil magic has carried you far. The Mark. Your eyes. Your heart. They're very impressive."
Smoke curled from his nostrils as he looked down at me.
"But this is beyond you. There is no shame in admitting that. What you tried to do to that mortal friend of yours…"
His lips curved slightly, revealing a hint of teeth.
"You're intruding into the domain of the gods."
I shook my head, not willing to accept what he had been telling me for the past twenty hours.
"If Ajuka—"
"You are not Ajuka Beeltzebub, Ladora."
I pulled on the thread and dragged Sally Jackson's soul toward me.
The mark on her shoulder was the only reason she was not dead yet. While she burned, I had used our bond to seal her soul within myself.
"Fuck Ajuka," I scoffed as I studied the ethereal figure before me.
It was a radiant representation of the woman, blue and translucent, mouth open in a silent scream as crimson fire spread from the center of her being.
"I will succeed. Sally will survive."
"I understand greed," Ddraig sighed. "I stole the very principle of domination from God because I wanted it."
I closed my hands around the remaining threads—twenty-six in total.
The result of weeks' worth of effort.
Reconnaissance. Planning. Temptation.
They were the most valuable part of my hoard.
"I understand possessiveness," he continued. "All dragons do, and I can see it in you."
My finger trembled as a fragile resistance met my pull.
I did not want to do this.
My gaze dropped to Sally's burning form, writhing in agony.
"I've been watching you, Partner. This is one of those times when your devil and dragon side collide. They're overwhelming your judgment."
With a violent jerk of my arms, I tore free the souls of my Marked. Then I funneled them into Sally's own.
When souls meshed, the stronger one would consume the other.
Attaining victory in a battle for supremacy between nearly thirty of them was impossible for the average human—especially if they were already injured.
But Sally was far from average.
She was special.
Even the goddess of magic had taken notice of the latent power inside her.
Her screaming stopped.
Gradually, the chaotic energy stabilized as the foreign souls dissolved into her own.
I held my breath as the color of her spiritual body tinged from blue to red.
It was working.
Her mouth tore open, and a deafening screech ripped across the Soul Space.
Even enforced by the life force of dozens of other humans, she was too weak to handle the Dragonification process.
"There is no saving her," Ddraig said quietly. "You're still young. Learning to let go of what's ours—"
She could not die.
I would not allow it.
"Are you going to keep talking?" I snapped. "Or are you going to help me?"
Ddraig stayed silent for a moment. Then he let out a slow breath.
"What do you need?"
My gaze sharpened as I tracked the crimson tendrils of energy tearing through Sally's ethereal body.
"The Mark ensured she's compatible—but her soul is too weak to handle the transformation. We need to strengthen it."
Ddraig's eyes flared with green light as he lifted his head.
"BOOST."
The word rolled across the Soul Space like thunder.
"BOOST."
I balled my hands and firmed my hold over the sudden influx of energy.
"Again."
"BOOST."
"Again."
"BOOST."
My body strained under the weight of the power coursing through me.
"Again."
"BOOST."
I pointed toward Sally, my eyes narrowing with focus.
"Now."
"TRANSFER."
Her soul froze—then expanded rapidly, its color deepening into a dark red.
Dread coiled in my gut as her form bulged grotesquely.
Then she exploded.
The bond—the only thing keeping her soul tethered to the living world—snapped.
My heart sank as I stared at the empty spot before me.
Fragments of light drifted downward like falling snow.
Ddraig exhaled slowly.
"You did—"
"No," I whispered. "This is wrong."
Souls could not be destroyed.
Only transmuted.
"She's alive!"
Ddraig blinked.
"What—"
I opened my eyes, and dragged in a shuddering breath.
A warm body clung to me, nestled in my arms.
The husk was gone, and so was the blood that had filled the pool.
A young woman had taken their place—no sign of injury marring her pristine skin.
A thrill ran up my spine as her eyes fluttered open.
Slit pupils met my gaze from within icy blue irises.
Sally Jackson possessed the eyes of a dragon.
The transformation was complete.
"Ladora," she whispered. "What happened?"
"What's the last thing you remember?"
She blinked slowly as she lifted her head from my chest.
"I was drinking you—"
Her nose twitched.
Then she leapt to her feet, her gaze snapping toward the channels leading down to the pool.
Blood still clung to them.
I studied her carefully as I mirrored her movements.
I had suspected that the Dragonification process would have more far-reaching effects than the Evil Pieces.
Reincarnated devils retained nearly all of the characteristics of their previous race.
No one could mistake what Sally Jackson had become for human.
She had grown taller, lean muscles coiling beneath flawless skin.
"What is this?" she demanded, her voice low.
My eyes narrowed as I followed her line of sight.
At a thought, the bloodless corpses surrounding us burst into flames.
A pleasant scent filled the air as the room was illuminated by close to a dozen burning bodies.
"There were some… complications with your transformation. Sacrifices had to be made to ensure your safety.
Sally whirled toward me.
"Why didn't you tell me—"
Her brows drew together as she turned back to the bodies, her nose wrinkling.
"What is that scent?"
Her gaze dropped, settling on her own body.
"Something is wrong… I shouldn't feel this calm."
"Why not?"
She shook her head as she ascended the steps out of the pool.
"What do you think?" she asked drily. "I'm naked. And there are dead people everywhere."
I suppressed a snort and followed after her.
"So what? They're just humans. Why would their deaths make you feel anything?"
The idea of a dragon mourning someone random mortals was absurd.
"Because I'm also human!"
"Not anymore."
Ivory horns grew from the side of her head, curving halfway to point forward.
Sally stilled and traced them with her fingers.
"You turned me into a monster."
Her gaze hardened, as though daring me to deny it.
"Like you."
"I did."
Pride stirred in my chest.
A mere month's worth of experience, and I had succeeded in creating an entirely new race of people.
At the low cost of every one of my Marked.
"This isn't what you promised me."
Steam rose faintly from her skin as her eyes flickered toward the rapidly combusting bodies.
"I trusted you."
"What did you expect? Power never comes without a price."
Heat rolled off my body as my own horns protruded from the top of my skull.
"You should be thanking me for ensuring you're not the one who had to pay it."
Sally stared down at me with icy blue eyes.
"Don't twist this into something it's not! You never said anyone would die."
"Look at yourself."
I gestured to her supernatural features.
"I made you powerful. Just as I promised."
"You almost killed me! I remember—"
Her voice faltered as she began to shiver.
"I was burning."
"I never would have let you die."
"What will Percy think once he sees me like this?" she whispered.
I did not respond, caught off guard by the sudden question.
She could not be serious.
"What do you want from me? Why do all of this?"
"To protect you."
"Don't lie to me!"
She pointed at the ashes. They were all that remained of my sacrifices.
"What is the difference between them and me?"
At first, there had only one.
Percy's fatal flaw was loyalty.
With her life in my hand, he would have been mine to command.
But that plan had changed.
Somewhere along the way, I had grown to care about to the mortal woman and her extraordinary capacity for love.
"You're not like them… You're special."
Sally scoffed.
"I can't believe I fell for it again."
She looked away.
"This is Poseidon all over again."
"…What are you talking about?"
"Did you know he called me a queen amongst women once? Only to abandon me the moment things weren't convenient for him anymore."
Wings the colour of polished sapphire burst from her back.
"Is this what you want too?" she demanded, gesturing to her body. "Is that why I look like this now?"
Sally Jackson had been beautiful, even as a human. And Dragonification had amplified that beauty to a supernatural level.
Still, her appearance was far from the most interesting thing about her.
"I wouldn't expect an immortal like you to understand," she sneered, looking me up and down, "but you should not have taken the form of a child—"
"Stop."
Silence fell between us.
"I did this," my voice softness as my own wings unfolded behind me, "because I care about you."
"I don't believe you."
My mouth opened, then closed again.
"What?"
"The man I thought I knew wouldn't have done this."
She leaned forward, searching my expression for something that was not there.
"You murdered innocent people."
I should have gotten rid of the bodies before initiating the ritual.
"I did it for you."
She gestured toward the remains of what used to be her people.
"How can you look at that and not feel anything?"
"That is your lingering humanity speaking. You'll get over it soon enough."
Just as I did.
"Get over—"
She stared at me, as though she were seeing me for the first time.
"God may not be real," she turned away from me, "but you're the devi, Ladora Buné."
A sudden laugh caught in my throat.
After everything I had done for her, this was how she chose to see me.
"I think it's time you learned the truth about this world… and about me."