-Damian-

  The stone floor is cold against my skin. I press my forehead against it, squeezing my eyes shut as the pounding in my skull grows worse. My breath comes in sharp, ragged gasps. It feels like something is clawing at the inside of my head, a jagged edge scraping against my thoughts, tearing them apart piece by piece.

  I clutch at my hair, my nails digging into my scalp as if I can rip the feeling out, as if I can silence it. But it doesn’t stop. It never stops.

  A calm, almost insidious, chuckle echoes inside my mind.

  Fighting won’t help, the voice purrs. You’re not the first to try.

  I freeze. My hands tremble as I lift my head, heart hammering against my ribs. The room is empty—same cracked walls, same rusted chains bolted to the stone. But I feel him.

  Something is in here with me. No. Not something. Someone.

  “Who are you?” My voice comes out hoarse, my throat raw from screaming. I don’t remember when I started. Maybe I never stopped.

  A deep, amused hum vibrates through my skull. Oh, you know. Take a guess.

  I shake my head. “No. No, I don’t.”

  Another chuckle. Well, I suppose it has been a long time since I left this world, and only one other person has heard my voice.

  The pain eases, just a little, like a hand loosening its grip around my throat. I inhale slowly, pressing my palms against the floor. I push myself up, wincing as the ache in my body settles.

  “Why are you in my head?” I ask, voice steadier this time.

  The voice sighs. Loaded question. But, short answer? You are the reason. You freed me.

  I frown. “I—what?”

  Not on purpose, of course. A smirk lingers in his tone, like he’s enjoying this. But does intent really matter? When you gouged out that losers’ taika, I found my way inside you. I owe you, Damian.

  I swallow hard, pressing the heel of my palm against my temple. “I don’t understand.”

  You will. A pause. Then, quieter, almost thoughtful, To be honest with you, you remind me of myself.

  I blink. “What?”

  The laughter returns, softer this time. Oh, don’t act so surprised. You’re stronger than they give you credit for. Smarter. You survived things that would’ve broken lesser men. And now? Now you’re here, back where it all started, in the place that made you what you are.

  My fingers curl against the stone. He’s right. I did come back here. Back in this prison, in the rotting belly of this place, where I spent years being broken and put back together again, over and over. The world never gave me anything. I had to take it. Had to fight for it.

  Stolen story; please report.

  And yet, I lost.

  I lost to them.

  My teeth grind together at the thought, at the memory of fire licking at my skin, of my own body turning against me, of the way that old fart looked at me. As if I was something to be pitied.

  My blood, my power, burns within you. the voice murmurs, silk and steel woven together. That rage. That hunger. It’s what makes you powerful.

  I breathe in, slow and deep. The pain is still there, but it’s different now. Less like a wound. More like fuel.

  I exhale, straightening my spine. “And what do you want?”

  A brief second of silence. Then—

  To see what you’ll become.

  The warmth of the voice settles in my chest, curling around my ribs like an ember waiting to catch fire. For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel alone.

  I don’t feel small.

  I don’t feel like a mistake.

  A slow smile tugs at the corner of my lips. “Then watch closely.”

  The torches lining the prison halls flickered weakly, casting jagged shadows against the stone walls. My footsteps echoed in the silence, steady, deliberate.

  They’ve kept you caged like an animal.

  The voice slithered through my mind, curling around my thoughts like smoke. My fingers twitched at my sides.

  And what happens when you cage an animal?

  I stopped before a row of cells, peering through the rusted bars. Eyes stared back at me. Fellow descendants of Damon, my family, locked away like I had been. Shackled, broken, forgotten.

  Not for much longer.

  I slammed my fist against the bars. "Get up."

  Some of them flinched. Others just stared. Blank. Hopeless.

  I gritted my teeth. Pathetic.

  They are waiting for someone to lead them, the voice purred. Give them a reason to follow.

  I took a slow breath, steadying myself. Then I let my voice ring out, filling the hollow silence. "They left you here to rot. Just like they left me. Just like they’ve left every one of us who didn’t fit into their perfect world."

  A murmur rippled through the cells.

  I stepped forward, dragging my fingers along the iron bars as I passed them. "They fear us. They always have. That’s why they lock us away, chain us up, and have their ways with us. Because they know what we are. They know what we could be."

  More of them stirred now, pressing against the bars, eyes glinting in the dim light.

  Good.

  "How long have you been waiting? How long have you let them beat you down, spit on you, call you rats?"

  Silence.

  Then, a voice. "Too long."

  I turned, meeting the speaker’s gaze. A woman, her face half-hidden by matted hair, her arms riddled with old scars. Her knuckles were white where she gripped the bars. She wasn’t the only one.

  A slow smile pulled at my lips. "Then it’s time we show them what we’re capable of."

  I gripped the door of her cell and yanked. The metal groaned, rust flaking off in chunks. The woman stepped forward hesitantly, like she couldn’t quite believe it. Then another cell creaked open. And another. Chains hit the ground. Limbs stretched for the first time in years. Eyes that had once been empty now gleamed with something hungry. Something sharp.

  I turned to face them, standing taller. The voice in my head hummed in satisfaction.

  "If they see us as monsters," I said, my voice calm but certain, "then let’s be those monsters. We’ll spark a war between Valtara and Camelot, and when the dust settles, we’ll claim our birthright and carve out the world that should have been ours from the start."

  I said it once, I’ll say it again. Luca, you’re not living up to your name.

  “I, Damian, am the Demon King reborn!”

  A chorus of voices rose around me, a symphony of rage and anticipation.