Apocalyptic Passion

Azrail's heartbeat refused to slow down.

She could still feel Asmodeus' grip on her wrist, the heat of his touch lingering even though he had already let go. The imprint of his fingers felt like a brand, a reminder that she had crossed a line she could never uncross.

She had chosen him.

The realization settled in her chest like a stone sinking into deep water. For the first time, she had turned her back on answers. On the truth. She had rejected the path that could have given her everything she thought she needed.

And yet—she didn't regret it.

Not yet.

The air in the chamber was thick with silence. The remnants of the collapsed rift still shimmered faintly, like a dying ember. Dust and debris floated lazily through the air, illuminated by the dim, flickering light of the cavern. Despite the chaos that had unfolded moments ago, everything now felt... still. Too still.

Asmodeus hadn't said anything after his last words—"You made your choice." He just stood there, his crimson eyes locked onto her with that same unreadable expression. His presence was suffocating, like a storm waiting to unleash its fury.

Azrail exhaled sharply, forcing herself to break the silence. She couldn't bear the weight of his gaze any longer.

"Say it," she muttered.

Asmodeus raised a brow, his expression unchanging. "Say what?"

"Whatever smug remark you're dying to throw at me," she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. The words came out sharper than she intended, but she needed to mask the trembling in her voice. She needed to feel in control—even if it was just an illusion.

For a moment, he said nothing. Then, slowly—he smirked. But there was something different about it this time. Something less mocking. Something... satisfied.

"You assume too much," he murmured, his voice low and almost amused.

Azrail rolled her eyes, her frustration mounting. "Right," she muttered under her breath. She turned away, running a hand through her hair as if the simple action could somehow untangle the mess of emotions inside her.

But before she could even process what had just happened, a sudden sharp pain stabbed through her chest. It was as if her very soul had been struck by lightning.

Azrail stumbled, her vision blurring. The world around her tilted and spun, the once-solid ground beneath her feet suddenly feeling like quicksand.

"Asmodeus," she gasped, her voice barely audible.

The pain wasn't normal. It wasn't like a wound or a bruise or anything she had felt before. It was deeper. More primal. Like something inside her was breaking apart and rebuilding itself at the same time.

Asmodeus was at her side instantly. His hands were on her shoulders, steadying her as she swayed. His touch was firm, grounding her, but his expression betrayed a flicker of concern.

"What's wrong?" he demanded, his usual cold demeanor replaced by something almost... human.

Azrail clenched her fists, trying to fight through the pain. "I don't—" Her words were cut off as another wave of agony surged through her, stealing the air from her lungs.

Then, suddenly—she felt it.

A pull.

A connection.

To him.

Her eyes snapped up to meet his, and the moment their gazes locked—it clicked. Something had changed. Something profound. And whatever it was—it involved him.

"What... what did you do to me?" she whispered, her voice trembling. There was no accusation in her tone, only raw, unfiltered fear.

Asmodeus' jaw tightened. He didn't answer right away, his crimson eyes scanning her face as if searching for something. Finally, he sighed, a sound that carried more weight than she was prepared for.

"It's not what I did," he said, his voice low and measured. "It's what you did. What we did."

Azrail shook her head, stumbling back a step as her knees threatened to give out beneath her. "No," she said, her voice rising. "No, this is you. This has to be you. I didn't—"

"You chose me," he interrupted, his tone sharp. "You turned your back on the rift, on the truth, and in doing so, you bound yourself to me. To my world. To my power."

The words hit her like a blow, leaving her breathless. Bound. The word echoed in her mind, refusing to be ignored.

"I didn't know," she said weakly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't know this would happen."

"You didn't want to know," Asmodeus shot back, his gaze narrowing. "You made your choice blindly, without thinking about the consequences. And now you're paying the price."

Azrail's hands balled into fists at her sides. Anger flared in her chest, burning away the fear that had been threatening to consume her. "You could have warned me!" she shouted. "You could have told me what was at stake, what this would mean!"

"And would you have listened?" he countered, his voice calm but cutting. "Would you have believed me if I told you the truth? Or would you have done exactly what you always do—reject it, fight it, and put yourself in even greater danger?"

Azrail opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat. Because deep down, she knew he was right. She wouldn't have listened. She wouldn't have believed him. She would have fought him every step of the way, just as she always had.

The realization stung more than she cared to admit.

"Asmodeus," she said finally, her voice softer now, almost pleading. "Please. Just tell me what's happening to me."

For a moment, he hesitated, his crimson eyes flickering with something unrecognizable. Then, slowly, he stepped closer, closing the distance between them.

"You're changing," he said simply. "The bond you created when you chose me—it's awakening something inside you. Something that's been dormant for a long time.

Azrail frowned, her brows knitting together. "What do you mean? What's awakening?"

Asmodeus exhaled slowly, his gaze never leaving hers. "Your true nature," he said. "The part of you that's always belonged to this world. The part of you that was never human."

The words hung in the air like a thunderclap, reverberating through her very being. Azrail stared at him, her mind racing to make sense of what he was saying.

"Not human?" she repeated, her voice barely audible. "You're lying. I've always been human."

"No," Asmodeus said firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "You've always been more than that. You just didn't know it."

Azrail shook her head, her chest tightening. "No," she whispered. "That's not possible."

"It is," he said, his voice softening ever so slightly. "And it's why they wanted you. It's why the rift called to you. It's why you felt the pull toward it. Because you belong to this world, Azrail. You always have."

Tears burned at the corners of her eyes, blurring her vision. She didn't want to believe him. She didn't want to accept what he was saying. But deep down, in the deepest recesses of her soul, she knew he was telling the truth.

"You're lying," she said again, though her voice lacked conviction.

Asmodeus took another step closer, his crimson eyes boring into hers. "You can feel it, can't you?" he asked quietly. "The connection. The power. It's already started waking up inside you."

Azrail's legs gave out, and she sank to the ground, her head in her hands. She couldn't process this. She couldn't handle this. It was too much.

"Asmodeus," she said weakly, her voice trembling. "What am I supposed to do? What does this mean for me?"

"It means," he said, kneeling in front of her, "that your fate is tied to mine now. Whether you like it or not."

His words sent a chill down her spine. Bound to him. To Asmodeus. The Demon King. The thought was terrifying, overwhelming—and yet, there was something else there too. Something she couldn't quite name.

"What happens now?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Asmodeus studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he reached out, his hand brushing against hers.

"Now," he said quietly, "you learn to survive in my world. And you decide whether to embrace your destiny—or fight it."

Azrail's breath hitched, her chest tightening. She didn't know what her destiny was. She didn't even know who she was anymore. But one thing was certain.

Her life would never be the same again.