“So, brother,” Pandora began, his grin stretching unnervingly wide, “care to learn how I make my lovely Dead Faces? It’s quite a neat little trick.”
Fate set his teacup down with deliberate slowness, his sharp eyes narrowing. “Oh, do indulge me,” he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m simply dying to know.”
Eden stood at the edge of the library, her fiery aura dim but simmering, as she watched the disaster unfold in the gymnasium. Her hands trembled, gripping the edge of the table as her brothers exchanged words. Worry etched deep lines into her otherwise radiant face.
“I went around looking for corpses,” Pandora began, his tone casual, as if discussing a mundane hobby. “They’re plentiful these days, with the supernatural running rampant. The Boogeyman’s been particularly busy—playing with his victims, especially the children. Always loved that little rumor of him hiding under their beds. But recently, his numbers have soared. It’s almost poetic.”
Eden flinched at the mention of the Boogeyman, her fists clenching tighter.
Fate raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a faint smirk. “I wonder,” he said, his tone mild yet cutting, “if that’s just coincidence… or if someone’s pulling your strings.”
Pandora’s grin didn’t falter. “Oh, dear Fate, always spinning your little theories. Let me finish my masterpiece of an explanation, will you?” He spread his arms theatrically.
“After I find a corpse, I fuse it back to life with my Authorities of Death and Error. But I don’t stop there. You see, a simple revival is boring—predictable. No, I manipulate their memories with my Authority of Memories. I make them forget their deaths entirely, instead implanting the guilt of having killed a loved one. A deliciously cruel twist, don’t you think? They see their supposed victim everywhere—visions of them, haunting them. It’s poetic torment. As their body begins to break down from the residual death energy, their mind crumbles under the weight of their false guilt.”
Pandora paused, savoring the revulsion spreading across Eden’s face.
“Once they’re teetering on the edge of madness, I deliver the final blow,” he continued, his grin widening. “I reveal the truth—the way their ‘victim’ died is actually how they themselves died. The shock, the despair, and the lingering death energy combine to create a Dead Face. A creature driven by madness, consuming lives to stabilize its broken form. But the trick, my dear siblings, is that they’ll never truly stabilize—not without losing all control. A perfect little killing machine, don’t you think?”
Eden slammed her fists on the table, the wood cracking under her strength. “You’re a monster!” she shouted, her fiery aura flaring brighter. “Toying with lives like this—manipulating their memories, forcing them to kill—it’s sick!”
Pandora turned to her, his expression one of mock innocence. “And reviving that child over and over isn’t?” he retorted smoothly. “Face it, dearest sister—you’re no better than me. At least I’m honest about what I do.”
Eden’s hands went to the axe at her back, her body trembling with fury.
Pandora leaned forward, his eyes glowing with malice. “We could end this game right now,” he offered, his voice soft but insidious. “Just agree to kill Fate and his champion, and I’ll spare yours. You were never my real target, Eden. It’s him I want. You’ve been dragged into this mess because of your foolish loyalty. But it doesn’t have to end this way. Join me.”
He stretched out a hand toward her, his smile widening as if he already knew her answer.
Eden’s response was immediate and violent. With a roar of rage, she drew her axe in one swift motion, bringing it down on Pandora’s outstretched hand. The severed limb fell to the ground, but almost instantly, the damage unraveled. His hand reformed as if time itself had rewound the act.
Pandora chuckled, wiggling his fingers playfully. “Temper, temper,” he teased. “I take it that’s a no?”
“Never,” Eden hissed, her voice trembling with barely contained fury. “I won’t join you, you bastard.”
Pandora’s grin stretched wider, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “So be it, sister. But remember this—when the children of the man you loved die, it’s on you. Those two could have been your children if he had chosen you. And wouldn’t that be so much sadder? Watching your children die instead of his?”
Eden’s grip on her axe tightened, her fiery aura flaring dangerously. But Pandora’s words hung heavy in the air, each one sinking into her heart like a barbed hook.
Fate, who had been silent throughout the exchange, finally spoke, his tone sharp and dismissive. “Enough games, Pandora. If you want to gloat, do it somewhere else. I have no interest in your theatrics.”
Pandora smirked, leaning back in his chair as he watched the chaos in the gymnasium unfold. “Oh, Fate,” he said, his voice a silky whisper. “You’re just as fun to play with as the children. But don’t worry, I’ll leave you to your tea—for now.”
As Pandora’s laughter echoed through the library, Eden turned away, her heart heavy with dread. Below, in the gymnasium, the barrier around Cynthia crackled with deadly energy, the children inside bracing themselves for the horrors to come.
The teachers sprang into action the moment the barrier erupted around Cynthia, their instincts honed by years of experience. Mrs. Stone, Jonathan and Baal quickly ushered the remaining students out of harm’s way, their voices firm but reassuring as they corralled the panicked onlookers toward safety. Meanwhile, Anastasia and Ivan stepped forward, preparing to breach the pulsating wall of death energy that encased the court. Wallace, standing back to assess the situation, furrowed his brow as he analyzed the barrier.
“This thing’s pure death energy,” Wallace said, his tone sharp with urgency. “Ivan, you’ve got the second-highest compatibility with it. Do your best to break through. I’ll go grab my brother.” Without waiting for a reply, he took off running, his footsteps echoing through the gym.
Ivan moved to the barrier, his skeletal hand glowing faintly as he prepared to pierce its surface. The sharp, bony appendage hovered over the barrier for a moment before he pressed forward. But before he could act, a chill swept over the area, and Pandora materialized behind him, his eyes alight with cruel amusement.
“Please,” Pandora drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. “Buzz off, feeble lich. Authority of Error: Error of Death.”
In an instant, Ivan’s skeletal form was enveloped in a wave of Pandora’s power. Flesh and blood manifested across his bones, a sickening reversal that left him resembling his former self, before becoming a lich. The transformation was swift and agonizing, the sudden resurgence of nerve endings causing Ivan to stumble. His newly reformed hand made contact with the barrier, which retaliated with an eruption of searing energy. Ivan let out a choked cry of pain before Pandora seized his head and slammed it into the barrier with brutal force. The sickening impact reverberated through the gym as Pandora tossed Ivan aside like discarded trash, his unconscious body crumpling to the floor.
One of their strongest was felled in seconds.
Anastasia stood frozen, her instincts screaming at her. Her ability to glimpse into the immediate future painted a grim picture—if she stepped forward, Pandora would kill her before she could react. Her breath hitched, but she tightened her grip on her suitcase, her mind racing.
Pandora turned to her, his expression colder now, his voice a low, venomous hiss. “What do you want, maid? I rather despise your kind. Your species disgusts me—the way your king treated my sister still angers me to this day. Betrayal aside, someone who toys with her emotions, someone who rules over a kingdom of parasites… they all deserve to die.”
Without waiting for a reply, Pandora knelt down and hoisted Ivan’s coffin with one hand, lifting it as though it weighed nothing. He turned back to Anastasia, his glare piercing. “I’ll be taking this. As much as I hate your race, I’ll offer you a choice, surrender, and I’ll let you live.”
Anastasia’s heart pounded in her chest, but she met Pandora’s gaze with a resolve that belied the fear gnawing at her. “I… I am the Young Master’s maid. I can’t give up.”
Pandora’s lips curled into a cruel smirk as he disappeared from sight, reappearing in front her in the blink of an eye. His hand wrapped around her throat, his grip firm but not yet crushing. He lifted her off the ground effortlessly, his eyes boring into hers.
“That means you were close to that wretched king, right?” Pandora sneered, his voice heavy with disdain. “Tell me, what did you think of his lies? The sweet nothings he whispered to my sister while he played her like a fool? Did you despise the way he fed her promises of love, all while planning to meet some worthless woman here in his world?”
Anastasia gritted her teeth, her hand fumbling for the pistol hidden within her sleeve. “I am his loyal servant,” she spat. “And I won’t let you besmirch his name.”
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With a quick motion, she pulled the gun and fired, the bullet striking Pandora squarely in the eye. He staggered back, momentarily disoriented, as black ichor dripped from the wound. Wasting no time, Anastasia activated her ability, teleporting several feet away from him, her heart pounding in her chest.
“Since arriving in this world, I’ve risen to the strength of a five-star demon,” Anastasia declared, her voice steady despite the thunderous pounding of her heart. Her grip on her weapon tightened, her resolve burning brighter than the fear threatening to consume her. “Don’t make the mistake of underestimating me. Even if it costs me my life, I won’t back down from this fight.”
Pandora’s face twisted with fury, his eyes blazing. “Did you know about the affair your king had with my dear sister?” he snarled. “How he fed her lies of love while using her as a stepping stone to this wretched world? How he broke her heart to chase after some worthless whore?”
Anastasia’s grip tightened on her shotgun. “I did,” she admitted, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her. “I knew the truth about Avaritia’s birth mother. I met your sister many times as well.”
Pandora’s expression shifted, the fury replaced by something colder—something calculating. “Good,” he said softly, his voice dripping with malice. “I’ll be sure to commit that memory. It’ll make what comes next all the sweeter.”
“Though she despises me, Eden is still all I have left,” Pandora thundered, his voice reverberating with a fury that seemed to shake the very air around them. His eyes burned with unrestrained rage. “Fate betrayed us when he killed our brother. I loathe that she still aligns herself with him, but what I despise even more is how your king betrayed her. For that alone, I’ll see both humanity and demonkind wiped off the face of this cursed world—with Superbia as the only exception.” His voice escalated into a roar, seething with divine wrath.
“Superbia?” Anastasia’s sharp voice cut through his tirade. “I assumed he was dead—killed by the leader of A.E.G.I.S. Are you working with him?”
Pandora’s lips twisted into a venomous smirk. “Dead in body, perhaps. But the seven sins cannot be killed in mind. Their hearts are eternal, indestructible, and no blade forged by mortals or demons can destroy them.”
His words hung in the air for only a heartbeat before he lunged forward with terrifying speed.
“For the young master, I’ll gladly battle a god,” Anastasia declared, her resolve unwavering as she teleported out of his path. Appearing behind him, she fired her pistol, aiming directly for his head.
Reality flickered and distorted as if rejecting her defiance. The bullet wound vanished as though it had never been, undone by Pandora’s Authority of Error. She was facing a being who could rewrite existence itself—a god’s clone, capable of warping all phenomena into meaningless glitches. Every effort seemed futile, but her young master was still fighting inside the barrier. She would not falter. She could not.
Teleporting again, she appeared directly in front of Pandora, her shotgun pressed against his grinning mouth. With a deafening roar, she pulled the trigger, blasting his head apart in a spray of gore and divine ichor. She didn’t wait for him to recover—she fired at his legs, her pistol spitting lead with precision as she tore through his knees, sending him collapsing to the ground.
But Pandora’s body refused to stay broken. Reality twisted, glitching unnaturally as his head and legs reformed instantly, as though her attacks had never landed.
Anastasia didn’t pause. She loaded another shell into her shotgun, this time infusing it with her ability. Her hands trembled slightly, but her aim was unwavering. She fired, and the enhanced round struck true, exploding with devastating force and tearing his body apart once more.
Pandora’s shattered form hung in the air for a moment before knitting itself back together. His smirk was infuriatingly intact, his voice dripping with mockery as he said, “How entertaining. But you’re only delaying the inevitable.”
Anastasia clenched her jaw, the weight of the impossible battle pressing down on her. Despite the futility, she steadied herself. For the young master, I cannot afford to lose. She gripped her weapons tightly, ready to fight a being who could erase her existence with a mere thought.
Anastasia wiped the sweat from her brow, her lavender hair sticking to her face as she glared at Pandora. Her heart pounded, not from fear, but from the sheer effort of staying alive against a god’s clone. Her precognition had already flared several times, warning her of unavoidable death. She’d narrowly escaped each time, teleporting or dodging at the last possible moment.
Pandora’s grin widened as he strode toward her, unbothered by the countless wounds she’d inflicted—wounds that reality itself undid with his Authority of Error. “Impressive,” he mused, his voice carrying a sinister lilt. “You’re quite resourceful for a demon. But you must realize by now… you’re only postponing your demise.”
Anastasia didn’t respond. She vanished in a blur of movement, teleporting to his left. In the same instant, she fired a volley of rounds from her twin pistols. The bullets hit their mark, ripping through his side, but the damage was erased before his body even registered the hits.
“Predictable,” Pandora said, spinning toward her with a bored expression.
Before he could finish, Anastasia flicked her wrist, causing every bullet embedded in the surrounding ground to detonate. The explosion rocked the battlefield, flames, and shrapnel consuming Pandora in a fiery maelstrom. Yet, when the smoke cleared, he stood there unharmed, his clothing and skin pristine.
Reality bends and breaks to me,” he sneered. “Your explosions are nothing more than fireworks.”
Anastasia teleported again, this time appearing behind him. She threw her arm out, forming a glowing barrier between them as she switched to her shotgun. With a flick of her fingers, she loaded a specialized shell into the chamber—one infused with her explosive ability. She fired point-blank, the shell burying itself in his back before detonating.
Pandora stumbled forward slightly, the force of the explosion forcing him to pause. Yet, as always, the damage rewound itself, his body knitting back together with an almost mechanical precision. He turned to her, his eyes glowing with restrained fury.
“You’re annoying, I’ll give you that,” he said, his tone colder now. “But this game is over.”
He lunged at her, faster than she could react. Her precognition flared again—this time with a vivid image of her own body being torn apart. Acting on instinct, she activated her invisibility, vanishing just as his hand swiped through the air where her head had been.
Pandora froze, his gaze scanning the area. “Hiding? Cowardice won’t save you.”
Anastasia’s voice came from above. “Not hiding—strategizing.” She unleashed a hail of grenades from her belt, each glowing faintly with her power. They struck the ground around Pandora, bouncing and rolling before exploding in unison. The gym quaked under the force, the detonation creating a massive crater.
Pandora stepped out of the smoke, unscathed but visibly annoyed. “Enough of this,” he hissed, raising his hand. The air around Anastasia warped as glitches began to form, threatening to consume her entirely. Her precognition flared again—a vision of herself being erased from existence.
“Not today,” she muttered, teleporting out of the glitch’s reach. She reappeared behind a nearby pillar, quickly reloading her shotgun with more specialized shells. Sweat dripped down her face as she tried to catch her breath. She was pushing her abilities to their limit, and Pandora’s relentless invulnerability wasn’t giving her a chance to regroup.
The air was heavy with the acrid smell of explosives, the gym’s structure groaning from the reverberations of Anastasia’s relentless assault. She lay on the ground, coughing as smoke filled her lungs. Across from her, Pandora stood tall, his smirk now replaced with an expression of amused irritation, his golden eyes glowing with a mixture of anger and curiosity.
“You’re resourceful,” he admitted, his voice calm yet edged with menace. “But resourcefulness won’t save you. You can’t win against me, little maid.”
Anastasia’s trembling hand gripped her shotgun tighter as she forced herself to stand. Her lavender hair clung to her damp face, her heart racing from exertion and pain. “Winning was never the goal,” she said, a wry smile tugging at her lips.
Before Pandora could respond, she lunged forward, vanishing into a flicker of teleportation. She reappeared behind him, firing a point-blank shot directly at his head. The explosion was deafening, the force sending debris flying. Yet, as always, his body rewound the damage, erasing the injury as though it had never occurred.
Pandora moved faster than she anticipated, his hand snapping around her neck like a vice. He lifted her effortlessly, her boots dangling inches off the ground. “Why are you smiling?” he asked, his voice carrying a genuine curiosity.
Anastasia coughed, her voice strained but defiant. “Your ability… it lets you undo events by creating errors in time and reality. Is that correct?”
Pandora tilted his head slightly, a glimmer of amusement returning to his face. “Very astute. And what of it?”
She gasped for breath, her hands clawing at his grip. “How far back… in time… can you undo a phenomenon?”
His grip tightened, his expression shifting to one of annoyance. “What does it matter?”
Her lips curled into a grin despite the pain. “If a bomb was set to detonate… let’s say, ten years ago, but the timer was sped up to now… could you disarm it?”
For the first time, a flicker of uncertainty crossed Pandora’s face. He stared at her glowing body, the faint light emanating from her skin growing brighter with each second. “You wouldn’t,” he said, his tone low and dangerous.
“Why not?” Anastasia whispered, her voice filled with resolve. “I’m just a maid. If it means protecting the young master, I’ll gladly blow myself to pieces.”
Her body erupted in a brilliant glow, a luminous aura of destructive energy building to its peak. She grabbed onto Pandora’s arms, locking him in place. “You aren't the god I’d choose to die within a lover's suicide but, let’s die together. Either let your clone be destroyed or risk creating a butterfly effect that spirals out of control. Your call.”
Pandora’s eyes narrowed as he grimaced. “You’re insane,” he hissed. “Authority of Error: Error of Time!”
The glowing energy around Anastasia dissipated instantly. She found herself sprawled on the floor, her body aching but intact. She looked up, disoriented, as a steel beam had crashed between them, severing Pandora’s arm. He stood over her, his wound already healing, a mocking smirk on his face.
“Good attempt,” Pandora said, his voice laced with mock appreciation. “But I altered time and created an instability in the ceiling. The beam fell before you were close enough to detonate yourself. Clever, wasn’t it?”
Anastasia gritted her teeth and ignored his taunts, forcing herself to move. She grabbed her shotgun and fired again, only for Pandora to sidestep effortlessly. Before she could react, he appeared behind her, his hand striking the back of her neck with precision. Her vision blurred as her body collapsed to the floor, unconscious.
Pandora stood over her limp form, brushing nonexistent dust from his coat. “It seems I’ve found a second demon worthy of respect,” he mused aloud. “To throw your life away so earnestly… almost touching.”
He turned his gaze toward the barrier where chaos raged inside. Maxwell, Iris, and Anya fought valiantly against the monstrosity Cynthia had become, their desperate struggle framed by the swirling mass of death energy.
Pandora smirked, his golden eyes glinting with anticipation. “Now that these two are out of the way, the Valentine brothers are next. Good luck, my dear Dead Face.” With a mocking bow, he vanished into a flicker of distorted reality, leaving only devastation in his wake.