Chapter 9: Snake's life

  Among the few women in the Tori no Ichizoku clan was Aliyah, a rare female member in an organization defined by its brutality. She was one of the few who truly knew Doku before he became the infamous "Poisonous Lord." Their connection went back to their teenage years in high school, a time when the world had been far simpler—or so it seemed.

  Doku, back then, was far from the venomous assassin he would become. A quiet loner with a small circle of friends, he was known for his intellect, consistently scoring between 70-80% in subjects like Principles of Business and Agricultural Science. Despite his reserved nature, he stood out as a thoughtful student who followed instructions and excelled in discussions. His classmates, though few, respected him for his sharp mind, his ability to listen, and his occasional bursts of insight. However, it was his interests outside the classroom that truly set him apart.

  His fascination with anti-heroes and villains ran deep. His phone's lock screen bore the image of Johan Liebert, a character he idolized, and his notebooks were filled with detailed villain profiles. To his peers, it was a harmless quirk, an eccentricity, but to Doku, it was more than just a passing interest. It was an escape. In the cold, impersonal world he inhabited, the complex and morally ambiguous characters offered him a way to understand his own struggles. He didn’t see them as evil for evil’s sake, but as beings shaped by their circumstances—beings who had endured enough suffering to forsake all moral codes.

  At home, Doku’s life was far less idyllic. While he diligently completed his chores on the family farm, his parents often failed to see the deeper emotional struggles he faced. Their jokes about his awkwardness, his lack of social grace, and his quiet demeanor—though never malicious—left deep scars on his sensitive heart. They never understood him. They never saw the pain behind his eyes, the burden of his thoughts. As the youngest child, he always felt as though he were not quite good enough—too different to fit in with his siblings, too introspective to connect with his peers. The emotional disconnect with his family became a constant in his life, one that he could never escape.

  The emotional toll only deepened after a failed situationship. A girl he had briefly fallen for—someone who had caught his eye in the halls of his school—turned away from him when things began to get serious. She found someone else, someone who was wealthy, someone who could offer her things Doku never could. The heartbreak crushed him in ways he wasn’t prepared for. The fear he had carried for years—that he was unlovable, that his lack of wealth, power, and physical appeal made him undeserving of meaningful relationships—was confirmed. The pain of that rejection solidified his belief that love was an unattainable fantasy for people like him.

  In his mind, Doku was too broken, too invisible. He didn't deserve anyone. He buried these thoughts in the recesses of his heart and turned them into something darker: a deep, gnawing need for control, for power, to prove to the world and to himself that he could be something—someone—who could not be ignored.

  When the Tori no Ichizoku came calling, Doku saw it as a chance to reinvent himself. He didn’t see it as a mere opportunity for wealth or status; it was a chance to change the very fabric of his existence. The clan would give him everything he lacked—respect, power, the ability to bend others to his will. It would make him someone people feared, someone who had command over life and death. This was a path where he could finally shed his past and become something more. In his eyes, it wasn’t about revenge; it was about survival, about finding a place in the world where he wasn’t invisible.

  Over the years, Doku gained everything he had ever wanted. His transformation from the quiet, misunderstood teenager into the ruthless Poisonous Lord was marked by countless steps, each one darker than the last. He had taken to the clan’s violent ways with an intensity that both frightened and impressed those around him. He became a legend—a master of poison, an assassin whose mere name struck fear into the hearts of his enemies. His face, once soft and unassuming, now bore the hard, jagged marks of years spent in the service of the clan.

  But even as his power grew, so did the emptiness inside him. The victories—killing, maiming, causing chaos—no longer gave him the satisfaction they once did. He could kill with the precision of a surgeon, manipulate those around him with the skill of a seasoned actor, but when the bloodshed was over, and he was alone with his thoughts, he found himself wondering what it had all been for.

  Aliyah, now a member of the same ruthless clan, was one of the few who could see through the hardened exterior Doku had built. She remembered the boy he had been, the one who, despite his quiet and often withdrawn demeanor, had always shown flashes of warmth and kindness. The boy who stayed late after school to help others, the one who gave away his lunch money to a friend in need, the one who used to write in his notebook not about weapons and tactics, but about philosophy and the complexities of the human heart.

  Sitting across from Doku at a quiet café one evening, Aliyah could still see traces of the boy she once knew. The table was small, tucked in the corner of the room, far from the shadows of the criminal world they both inhabited. The air was cool, and the hum of distant voices created an almost surreal atmosphere in the otherwise dark café. It was a rare moment of peace in the midst of the chaos they had both chosen.

  Doku looked different now—hardened, cold, a shadow of his former self—but Aliyah knew better. She saw through the mask, past the anger and pain he so carefully concealed. Her eyes softened as she watched him, the man who had once been a boy she had trusted, a boy she had once shared dreams with.

  "You're quiet tonight," Aliyah remarked, breaking the silence. She set her coffee cup down with a soft clink, her fingers gently tracing the rim as she watched him. She knew him well enough to recognize when something was weighing heavily on his mind.

  Doku shifted in his seat, the usual confident, calculating expression on his face replaced by something more vulnerable. His fingers drummed lightly on the table, and for a moment, the only sound between them was the soft tapping of his fingertips.

  "I keep thinking about what we've done," he said finally, his voice low, almost reluctant. "How far we've come since those days. Back then, I didn't see the world for what it was... I thought I could change things. I thought if I just had the right power, the right status... that everything would make sense. But now, all I see is destruction."

  Aliyah studied him for a moment, taking in the weariness in his eyes, the way his shoulders seemed to sag with the weight of his thoughts. She had seen this before—Doku’s moments of doubt, when the mask slipped and the truth of his inner turmoil bled through. She wasn’t surprised. He had always been someone who overthought everything, searching for meaning in a world that often offered none. He had never been content with the shallow answers that others found comfort in. He needed to understand. He needed to find a purpose.

  "You always had a way of overthinking things, Doku," she replied, her tone soft but firm. "You were never like the others. Even back in school, when everyone else was focused on trivial things, you were reading about villains, questioning what made them tick. You've always been searching for meaning, even if you didn't know how to find it."

  Doku's eyes flickered, as though something inside him shifted. There was a moment of hesitation before he spoke again, his voice quieter this time, almost as if he were confiding in her the way he never had in anyone else.

  "I used to believe that if I could just make people respect me, if I could command fear, I'd be happy. But now I realize that's not it. Respect doesn't fill the void, Aliyah. Power doesn't make you whole."

  Aliyah leaned forward slightly, her voice steady but laced with a hint of warmth. She didn’t want to tell him that she understood, because she didn’t think he’d believe her. Instead, she spoke the truth, the truth she had learned from her own struggles.

  "No, it doesn't. But that's why I'm here, Doku. We've been through too much together for me to just turn away now. You've changed. I've seen it. You're still the same person, deep down. You're just... lost."

  Doku’s gaze met hers, and for a moment, the wall he had so carefully constructed seemed to falter. He opened his mouth to respond, but words failed him. Aliyah had always been able to reach him in ways no one else could. She understood him in a way that no one else ever had.

  "Do you ever regret it?" Aliyah asked quietly, breaking the silence between them. "The things we've done? The people we've hurt?"

  For a long time, Doku didn't answer. He merely stared into his coffee cup, his mind far away. Aliyah didn't press him further, knowing that he needed time. She’d always known when to push and when to give him space. She had been by his side through thick and thin—through the worst of times and the darkest of places.

  Finally, Doku looked up at her, his expression weary, as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. "I don't know anymore. I don't know if I can go back, even if I wanted to."

  Aliyah smiled gently, her eyes full of understanding. She reached out, her hand resting briefly on his. "Maybe you don't have to. Maybe you just need someone who understands."

  In that moment, as their eyes met and the world outside seemed to fade away, Doku realized that despite everything—the bloodshed, the betrayal, the darkness—he wasn't truly alone. Aliyah was there, just as she had been all those years ago. They were two broken souls, bound by their past, but still clinging to something that resembled friendship.

  It wasn't redemption, and it wasn't the end of their violent journey. But for a brief moment, they found solace in each other's company—a rare and fragile peace amidst the chaos they had both chosen to create.

  "Thanks, Aliyah," Doku said softly. "For not giving up on me."

  Aliyah's smile deepened, and she squeezed his hand, offering him a warmth he hadn’t felt in years. "I'll never give up on you, Doku. You may be poison, but I've always believed you could be more than that."

  The café grew quieter as the evening stretched on, the dimming light of the setting sun casting long shadows through the window. Outside, the world was carrying on—unaware of the rare, fragile moment unfolding within. Aliyah’s hand lingered on Doku’s, her touch grounding him in a way few could. His mind raced, torn between the weight of his decisions and the strange comfort that her presence brought.

  "I used to think there was no way out," Doku said, his voice barely above a whisper. "That everything I’d done—everything I became—was irreversible. That I had crossed some line that couldn’t be uncrossed. But now... now I’m not so sure."

  Aliyah's eyes softened, her gaze never leaving his. “You’re not alone in feeling that way. Everyone who’s been in the shadows—really lived in them—feels it at some point. The weight of the things you’ve done, the lives you’ve taken. But there’s always a choice, Doku. Even when it feels like there isn’t."

  The words lingered in the air, and Doku’s thoughts flickered back to the countless lives he had ended, the blood he had spilled. Each death was a thread in the tapestry of his descent, each mission he took on a step farther away from the boy who had once believed in something other than power and dominance.

  But Aliyah was right. There was always a choice.

  "I thought power was the answer," Doku murmured, his eyes dropping to his hands, which had killed without hesitation for so many years. "I thought if I could control everything around me—my world, my emotions, the people I encountered—I could somehow find peace. But it only made everything worse."

  Aliyah’s lips curved into a faint smile, though it held no humor. “That’s the thing about power, Doku. It’s a lie. It makes you believe you can control everything, but in the end, it controls you.”

  He nodded slowly, her words sinking deep into his bones. All these years, he had deluded himself into thinking that control would protect him, would save him from the vulnerability that had haunted him since childhood. But the more control he gained, the less he felt in control of himself.

  “I thought if I could just be stronger, harder... if I could distance myself from everyone, no one could hurt me,” Doku said, his voice cracking slightly. “I was wrong.”

  Aliyah’s grip tightened around his hand, her touch an anchor in the storm of his self-doubt. "You were always stronger than you realized, Doku. You don’t have to carry this alone."

  His chest tightened, a knot forming in his throat. For so long, he had convinced himself that isolation was his only refuge, that the more people saw him as the Poisonous Lord, the more invincible he became. But in truth, he had never been more fragile.

  "You’ve seen it all. You know what I’ve become," he said, his eyes locking with hers. "I’m not the same person I was back then. I’m not even sure I know who I am anymore."

  Aliyah’s expression softened, and she reached across the table, placing her other hand on his. "You’re still Doku. The same person who cared for those around him, the same person who questioned everything. You’ve buried that part of yourself, but it’s still there. Underneath the poison, under all the layers you’ve built up."

  Doku’s breath caught in his throat. He could feel the heat of her hand on his skin, the weight of her words settling in his heart like a slow-burning ember. For the first time in a long time, the walls he had so carefully constructed around himself began to crack, the coldness inside him giving way to something warmer. Something he had forgotten how to feel.

  “But how do I come back from it, Aliyah? How do I undo all the damage I’ve caused?” The question hung heavy between them, and for the first time, Doku felt a desperate need for answers.

  Aliyah didn’t answer immediately. She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms thoughtfully as she gazed at him. The air around them seemed to hum with the unspoken tension of their past, a past filled with blood and violence, betrayal and loss. Yet here they were, in this fleeting moment, a rare instance where the ghosts of their pasts weren’t pulling them into the depths of despair.

  “The first step is admitting it,” Aliyah finally said, her voice quiet, but resolute. “Admitting you can’t change the past, but that doesn’t mean you can’t change what comes next. The poison has been a part of you for so long, Doku, but it doesn’t have to define you.”

  His eyes narrowed slightly, skepticism flickering in his gaze. “You think I can just... stop? After everything I’ve done? The lives I’ve taken, the alliances I’ve betrayed?”

  Aliyah’s smile was small but full of understanding. “No. It won’t be easy. It’s never easy. But you have a choice. Every day you wake up, you choose who you are. It’s not about undoing the past. It’s about how you move forward. And right now, I see you trying. That’s more than anyone else has done for years."

  Doku stared at her, searching her face for any sign of doubt or pity. But there was nothing but sincerity in her eyes. She wasn’t asking him to be a saint, to become someone he wasn’t. She was asking him to stop hiding from himself, to face the man he had become without losing sight of who he had been.

  "I don’t know if I’m capable of redemption," he admitted softly, the words feeling foreign on his tongue.

  "You don’t need to be redeemed," Aliyah replied, her voice unwavering. "You just need to stop running from who you are. You’ve buried your past under layers of poison, but it’s still there. You can choose to let it out again."

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  The quiet that followed was thick with meaning, laden with the weight of their shared history. Doku’s thoughts churned, the quiet hum of the café amplifying the rapid pulse in his temples. He was torn between the man he had become—the Poisonous Lord—and the boy who had once dreamed of something more. Could he reconcile the two? Could he find peace without sacrificing everything he had built?

  For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The world outside seemed to slow, the noise of the city muffled by the stillness that settled between them. Aliyah’s presence, her unflinching belief in him, felt like a lifeline thrown into the chaos of his thoughts.

  Finally, Doku spoke, his voice quiet but steady. “I don’t know where to start.”

  Aliyah squeezed his hand gently. “You’ve already started, Doku. You’re here. You’re listening. That’s the first step. And as long as I’m here, I won’t let you forget that there’s still something worth fighting for. There’s still time.”

  The words hung in the air between them, and for the first time in years, Doku felt a flicker of hope—the smallest spark in the dark, fragile as it was, but it was enough to keep him from falling completely into the abyss.

  The moment stretched on, and the tension that had gripped the air between them softened. It was the kind of silence that was heavy with everything unspoken—everything they both had been avoiding for years. And in that stillness, a realization began to dawn on Doku. He wasn’t sure when it started, or if he had always known, but it was undeniable now. There was something more between him and Aliyah. It wasn’t just friendship, or even loyalty. There was a depth there that went beyond shared history, beyond the violence they had both seen and done.

  As Doku looked at Aliyah, something in her expression shifted. It was subtle at first—a softening around her eyes, a little smile tugging at the corner of her lips—but it made his chest tighten. And then, before he could even process the thought, he felt it too: the electricity that had been simmering under the surface of their interactions for so long, suddenly rising and crackling between them.

  Aliyah caught his gaze and held it, her fingers still gently resting on his. There was no mistaking the warmth in her eyes, the faint, almost imperceptible way her breath hitched as the space between them felt impossibly small.

  "Doku," she whispered, her voice trembling ever so slightly, as if saying his name carried a weight she wasn’t ready to acknowledge. But it was enough.

  Doku’s mind was spinning, his heart suddenly racing. He had always seen Aliyah as a constant in his life—the one person who had known him before the poison had fully taken root. The one person who saw beyond the brutal exterior he’d built. She had always been his rock, his touchstone. But now, in this moment, he was seeing her in a way he hadn’t before—really seeing her.

  The years of shared violence, the betrayals, the bloodshed—it was all there, woven into the fabric of their bond. But so was something else. A familiarity, a comfort, that transcended everything else. It was as if in that instant, the ghosts of their past didn’t matter as much as the future they could have.

  “I… I don’t know what to say,” Doku admitted, his voice low, barely audible over the noise of his own heartbeat. He wasn’t sure if he was speaking to her or to himself. He was caught in the storm of emotions he had never allowed himself to feel. But as he sat there, looking into her eyes, it became clearer than ever. The attraction had always been there. The unspoken connection, the moments of tenderness and shared glances—it had all been leading to this.

  Aliyah’s lips parted, and she leaned forward, her face inches from his. For a moment, Doku was frozen. He could feel the heat of her breath on his skin, the familiar scent of her perfume—earthy and comforting, like home. The world around them seemed to blur, the café, the city, the noise—it all faded into the background. In that moment, all that mattered was the space between them.

  “You don’t need to say anything,” Aliyah murmured, her voice a mixture of tenderness and something else—something deeper, more vulnerable. Her hand moved to cup his face gently, her thumb tracing the line of his jaw, the roughness of his stubble. Doku’s heart thudded in his chest.

  He wasn’t sure what it was that had shifted. Maybe it was the way her hand lingered against his skin, or the way her eyes were soft but intense, as if she was searching for something within him—something he had buried too long. Maybe it was the fact that for the first time, he didn’t feel like the Poisonous Lord. For once, he wasn’t the assassin or the weapon. He was just Doku. And in that moment, he was vulnerable.

  Aliyah’s voice broke through his thoughts again, low and steady, but filled with an emotion he hadn’t expected. “I never wanted to admit it, Doku. But I’ve always… cared about you. More than I should.”

  Doku’s breath caught in his throat, the weight of her words sinking deep into his chest. The shock of it—those simple, raw words—struck him harder than any punch or blade ever could. He was never good with emotions. He had buried his feelings for so long, convinced himself that love and affection were weaknesses he couldn’t afford. But Aliyah? She had always been there, quietly supporting him, always in the background, always understanding him in ways no one else could. And now, he realized she had been there for so much more.

  "You've always been my anchor," Doku whispered, almost to himself. The admission felt strange on his tongue, but it was true. “I never understood why you stuck by me. Not after everything.”

  Aliyah’s eyes softened, and she shook her head, her fingers brushing through his hair in a slow, deliberate motion. “Because, Doku... You never had to say it. You never had to show it. I just knew. You were always more than the poison you became. I saw the person under all of that, the one who cared—who still cares, deep down. I saw it before anyone else. I still see it.”

  And suddenly, everything fell into place. It was as if the years of distance, the violence, and the pain no longer mattered. What mattered was now—what was happening right now between them. Doku leaned in, his breath shaky, and before he could second-guess himself, he kissed her. It wasn’t a kiss of passion or urgency, but one of realization. A kiss that spoke volumes, that carried all the words they hadn’t said, all the feelings they had hidden beneath layers of armor.

  Aliyah responded almost immediately, her hands sliding around his neck, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, slow but intense, as if they were both tasting the truth for the first time. The reality that they had been dancing around for so long—unwilling to admit, too afraid to acknowledge—was now undeniable.

  For the first time in years, Doku felt like he wasn’t alone. His heart had been a wasteland for so long, but in this moment, it was beating, alive again. Aliyah was the one who had always been there, through the worst of it all. And now, they were here—together.

  When they finally pulled away, their breaths were heavy, their foreheads resting against each other as they silently processed what had just happened. Neither of them spoke for a long time, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was filled with understanding, with the weight of everything they had just confessed without words.

  “I didn’t think this could happen,” Doku said, his voice hoarse, still trying to grasp the enormity of what had just shifted between them.

  Aliyah chuckled softly, her hand still gently caressing his cheek. “Neither did I. But maybe we were both blind for too long.”

  And there it was—the truth, so simple and yet so complex. They had always cared for each other, but somewhere along the way, they had both buried it, convinced themselves it wasn’t possible. The world they lived in—filled with death, betrayal, and chaos—was not one where love could survive. But now, for the first time, they realized they had each other. And that was all that mattered.

  “I think... I think I could get used to this,” Doku admitted, his voice shaky with the weight of what he was finally allowing himself to feel.

  Aliyah smiled, the warmth in her eyes undeniable. “Me too.”

  And for the first time in a long time, Doku felt the weight of the poison lifting from his heart. He didn’t know what the future would hold for them, but for the first time, he didn’t need to. Because Aliyah was by his side, and that was enough.

  As the days passed following that fateful kiss, Doku and Aliyah found themselves bound by more than just affection. Their connection had shifted the very foundation of their relationship. It was no longer just about understanding each other’s pain or finding solace in the dark corners of their existence. Something darker, something far more dangerous, had taken root. Their shared love—a love forged in the flames of violence and brutality—wasn't just about healing. No, it was something else entirely. It was a catalyst. A shared drive to leave a mark on the world that could not be erased.

  They began talking more openly, their conversations taking darker turns with each passing day. For Doku, the poison in his veins had always been a means of survival, a way to keep himself from crumbling under the weight of the world. But with Aliyah, it was something more—something much more destructive.

  “I think we’ve both known this for a long time,” Aliyah said one night as they sat together in their private quarters, their legs tangled together as they watched the stars outside the window. Her words were laced with an unsettling calmness, but there was something dangerous behind her eyes.

  “Known what?” Doku’s voice was low, guarded, as if he were testing the waters before diving into the depths of their twisted connection.

  “The world is a broken, unforgiving place,” Aliyah replied. “We’ve both tried to make it better. But it’s always been too far gone. Maybe… maybe it’s time we burn it all down.”

  Doku turned to face her, a strange excitement flickering in his chest. “Burn it all down?”

  “Everything,” she affirmed, her voice steady, as if the idea of genocide was a solution long brewing in her mind. “The weak, the corrupt, the ones who would never understand us or our love. The ones who have been in power, who’ve manipulated this world for too long. We could wipe them out—just like that. We could reshape this world on our own terms. Together.”

  Doku stared at her, the flicker of hesitation in his chest rapidly fading. He had always sought power, but he had never considered this kind of destruction. Not until now. But in her eyes, he saw a reflection of his own desires. A hunger for something more, something pure—a love so intense, so consuming, that the only way to express it was through devastation.

  “We could…” he trailed off, the words forming in his mind like a sickeningly beautiful plan. “We could bring the world to its knees, just like they brought us down.”

  Aliyah’s smile was dark, twisted, almost predatory. “Exactly. For once, we can be the ones in control. We can make them all see that power—real power—comes from chaos. From destroying everything they hold dear.”

  Doku’s heart began to race. His past—the boy he had been—felt like it was slipping further and further away. The man he had become was no longer just the Poisonous Lord. He was something else now. Something terrifying.

  “What do you have in mind?” Doku asked, his voice rough with anticipation. His mind was already racing ahead, constructing the blueprint for what they would do. The blueprint for a war that would burn away everything in its path.

  Aliyah leaned closer, her breath warm against his ear. “A genocide. We’ll wipe out the corrupt elites—the politicians, the military heads, the corporations that pull the strings behind the curtain. They’re the ones who’ve kept us down. They’ve twisted everything to their will, to their own advantage. And now, they’ll pay.”

  Her words ignited something inside him. This wasn’t just revenge. This wasn’t about taking power for themselves. No, this was about sending a message. A message to the world that the Tori no Ichizoku—no, that they—had finally won. They had taken back control from those who believed they could manipulate the course of history.

  “How do we do it?” Doku asked, his voice trembling with excitement. “How do we bring the world to its knees?”

  Aliyah smirked, her fingers tracing his chest slowly, deliberately, as she laid out the plan. “We make it personal. We send a message to each one of them—individually, methodically. We pick them off, one by one, until the whole world trembles in fear. And we do it in a way they’ll never see coming. We’ll use the very systems they’ve set up against them. Corruption will eat itself from the inside out.”

  The plan was set in motion quickly. Doku and Aliyah, now united in their destructive love, pulled the strings of power in the shadows. They used their influence within the Tori no Ichizoku to manipulate key individuals in the political and corporate world, ensuring that those they targeted would be exposed and destroyed from within. They infiltrated high-ranking government bodies, assassinated powerful figures, and toppled entire organizations with ruthless precision.

  But it wasn’t just the elites they went after. Doku and Aliyah had grown disillusioned with the entire world. They saw anyone who had power as corrupt, and anyone who didn't stand by them as an obstacle. Their hearts had turned black, their love for each other so all-consuming that no one—not even innocent bystanders—was spared from their wrath.

  As the bodies piled up, the world began to realize that something was happening. The power structures they had relied on for centuries were crumbling, and no one knew who was behind it. Terror swept through the streets as news outlets broadcasted the deaths of political leaders, military generals, and wealthy tycoons—each one more brutal than the last.

  There were whispers in the dark about the Tori no Ichizoku, but it wasn’t the clan that was the true terror—it was Doku and Aliyah. They were no longer just members of a criminal syndicate. They had become legends—figures of fear who were willing to sacrifice everything, including the world itself, in the name of their love.

  The genocide they committed wasn’t just about revenge. It was a declaration of their power—a way to shape the world in their image. And as they stood atop the wreckage of the world they had destroyed, their hands still stained with blood, they knew that nothing would ever be the same.

  “We did it,” Aliyah whispered, her voice thick with satisfaction as she looked at the destruction they had wrought. “The world is ours now.”

  Doku stood beside her, his eyes wide and unblinking, as he gazed at the chaos they had created. There was a twisted satisfaction in his chest, but something else too. A small, flickering ember of regret? No. He had made his choice. They had made their choice.

  And there was no going back.

  Their love, once fragile, had become a force of destruction. It had consumed them both—and now, it was consuming the world.

  “Together,” Doku said softly, his voice distant. “We’ll rule this broken world. Together.”

  And in that moment, as they stood hand in hand amidst the ruins, Doku and Aliyah knew one thing for certain: they had no regrets. The world had been theirs to break—and they had done it, together.

  The genocide that Doku and Aliyah unleashed was nothing short of catastrophic, a tidal wave of death and destruction that rippled across the world, taking 450,000 lives in its wake. What had once been an act of revenge, fueled by love and a desire to reshape the world, became a horrifying testament to their madness, a chilling display of what happens when two broken souls—connected by shared darkness—decide to take on the world and burn it down.

  It began with carefully executed strikes—an assassination here, a sabotage there—subtle, methodical. But soon, the pattern was clear. The world’s elites, those in power who had once been untouchable, were falling one after another, their deaths swift and brutal. The news outlets screamed in terror as government officials, military commanders, corporate giants, and political leaders were killed with frightening precision. No one knew who was behind the carnage, but whispers soon turned to panic as a chilling realization began to form.

  Doku and Aliyah were behind it all. They had targeted those who represented everything they hated about the world—the corrupt, the powerful, the manipulative. But as they killed, they realized that it was no longer just about those in power. It was about something deeper—an insatiable thirst for destruction that had become its own force, its own driving purpose.

  The Tori no Ichizoku, though instrumental in helping carry out the killings, was just a tool in their hands. Doku and Aliyah, as twisted as their love had become, had begun to function as a singular entity—two minds working in unison toward a goal that could no longer be stopped.

  The first large-scale massacre came as the culmination of their twisted romance and desire to reshape the world in their own image. They triggered a brutal conflict in a war-torn region, manipulating both sides into a confrontation that escalated beyond anything anyone had anticipated. While the world focused on the geopolitical chaos, Doku and Aliyah made their move. They unleashed a series of coordinated bombings, assassinations, and brutal purges, killing entire populations in the process.

  In the span of just a few days, 450,000 people were dead. Cities lay in ruins, their streets stained with the blood of the innocent and the guilty alike. No one was spared. Men, women, children—all were caught in the storm of violence that Doku and Aliyah had sparked. The world watched in shock as entire communities were wiped off the map, the destruction as complete as it was horrifying.

  The aftermath was one of sheer chaos. Governments scrambled to regain control, but the damage had already been done. Doku and Aliyah had made their statement clear. They were untouchable. And now, they were the ones who ruled the shattered remnants of the world they had destroyed.

  Sitting atop their makeshift throne, a high-rise building that overlooked the ruined city, Doku and Aliyah watched the chaos unfold beneath them. There was no satisfaction in their eyes now. There was only an unsettling calm, a sense of finality in their expressions. The world had been shaped, reshaped, and shattered—all at once. And yet, the emptiness inside them was still there.

  “I thought this would feel different,” Aliyah muttered, her voice low and hollow.

  Doku didn’t respond immediately. He gazed out over the city, where smoke billowed from the remnants of buildings that had once stood proud and tall. Sirens wailed in the distance, a constant reminder of the devastation they had wrought. He felt nothing. No joy. No regret. Only the weight of their choices.

  “You’re right,” Doku said finally, his voice distant. “I thought it would be… more. But it’s just more of the same.”

  Aliyah turned to him, her eyes narrowed. “More of the same? You’ve just killed half a million people, Doku. You’ve burned the world down. There’s nothing left of it.”

  “I know,” he replied softly. “But even in this, there’s nothing but silence. We’ve destroyed everything, and still, the emptiness is all that remains.”

  For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Doku allowed himself to admit what he had been hiding from. The truth was, they had killed not just to remake the world, but to fill the void inside themselves. And yet, nothing could fill the space where their humanity once was.

  Aliyah, too, seemed to realize the truth of it. Their love, twisted and destructive as it was, had driven them to a point of no return. They had gotten what they wanted—the power, the destruction, the fear—but in the end, they were left with nothing but the consequences of their actions.

  “What now?” she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

  Doku finally looked at her, his gaze piercing through the haze of smoke and chaos. He had no answer. There was no grand plan anymore. They had burned it all. And now, there was nothing left to rebuild.

  They sat in silence, the weight of the world on their shoulders. They had sought to reshape reality with their love and violence, but now they were the ones who were shattered.

  In that moment, Doku realized the true cost of their actions. Their love had been the spark that ignited the flames, but in the end, it had consumed everything around them. They had killed 450,000 people—people they had once thought were the problem. But in their destruction, they had become the very thing they had sought to destroy: broken, empty, and beyond redemption.

  And so, they sat together, staring out into the wasteland they had created, knowing that they had gone too far to ever turn back. What remained of the world was theirs, but they would never be the same.

  For all the bloodshed, all the lives lost, they were still searching. Searching for something to fill the void, something to make it all worth it.

  But deep down, Doku knew the truth.

  The world they had destroyed wasn’t the problem.

  They were.

  And in the end, nothing—not love, not power, not destruction—could ever fix that.