Harmony of Hatred: The Wicked Pianist

The pitch-black portal pulsed in a hidden alley in Lumièrebourg, a bottomless void that swallowed light. Julian Lucien Malrick stared at it, no fear in his eyes, which now gleamed with a faint red hue, only anticipation. He stepped forward, without hesitation, towards the darkness that called him. The first touch of air from the other side was a shock—not freezing cold or scorching hot, but an emptiness, a suffocating void that felt like a new home for his now formless soul.

His steps felt ethereal. The colors of the human world vanished, replaced by a spectrum only discernible by his newly altered inner eye: endless shades of deep red, profound purple, and absolute black. A distant rumble, like the whispers of a thousand tormented souls, filled the air, a terrifying symphony of dissonance that now felt familiar to his ears. The air smelled of sulfur, dried blood, and something incredibly ancient, primordial, radiating absolute power.

Julian found himself standing in a vast hall, so immense that its ends vanished into limitless darkness. Gigantic pillars made of unknown material stretched high, adorned with carvings of grotesque creatures and scenes of ancient destruction. In the center of the hall, on a raised platform of gleaming black obsidian, stood a throne. Not a lavish throne inlaid with jewels, but a mass of dense shadows constantly swirling, from which two glowing red points stared at him.

That figure, the Lord of Darkness, now appeared in a form more tangible than the hazy shadow in his music room before. It was an incomprehensible entity, the embodiment of void and ruin, yet it exuded a charisma so potent that even a soul would kneel without resistance. Around it, other smaller silhouettes, lesser demons and dark entities, stood waiting in a chilling silence. Julian felt their gazes, gazes filled with curiosity, a hint of jealousy, yet also reverence for the newly chosen newcomer.

"You have come, Maestro," the Devil's voice resonated, not through the air, but directly within Julian's mind, filling every corner of his consciousness. "I knew you would come. Your soul is ready to advance further."

Julian bowed slightly, not out of fear, but from an acknowledgment of power. "Your servant's purpose."

"Good. You have started well in Lumièrebourg. That Queen... a useful pawn." The Devil's voice sounded pleased. "But that is merely the beginning, Julian Lucien Malrick. The seed has been sown. Now, it is time for a greater harvest."

[Julian's Encounter with Celia in the Devil's Abode]

As the Devil's figure spoke, the shadows around the throne shifted slightly. Julian saw her. Kneeling on the cold obsidian floor, among several smaller demons watching her, was a familiar figure. Celia. The white dress she had once worn on the forest bridge was now tattered, soiled with mud and dust. Her long, dark hair lay disheveled. Her eyes, which once held longing, were now filled with utter horror and despair.

But the most terrifying detail was her lips. Her mouth had been sewn shut with thick black thread, trapping her in eternal silence. No sound, no murmur. Only tears streamed down her soiled cheeks, forming wet trails through the dust and grime, reflecting untold suffering.

Julian stepped closer, slowly, his gaze cold and full of superiority. He stopped before Celia, observing the woman's figure with a faint sneer. "Celia Bennett," his voice flowed, ironic and cruel. "What a pathetic sight. Once, you were a captivating pawn, the messenger of the Lord of Darkness." He leaned down, his eyes piercing Celia's pleading gaze. "Now, you are merely a gagged slave. Look at yourself. So pitiful. So vile. You sold your soul for a fragile little hope. Were you so desperate? I never expected to see you this low."

Celia's tears flowed even more profusely, her body trembling. She tried to utter something, a muffled gurgle that only resulted in a choked sound from behind her sewn lips. Her eyes pleaded, trying to explain, but no sound escaped. The pain and humiliation were clearly etched on her face.

Julian chuckled softly, a cold and merciless laugh. "I, on the other hand, have embraced power. I am the new Maestro. The true leader. While you, you remain crawling in your servitude. You are merely a slave, Celia. Lower than the dust we tread. And I... I relish every moment of it." He gazed with satisfaction at Celia's suffering, feeling this new power surging within him. No more doubt, no more guilt. Only absolute dominance.

[The Devil's Grand Plan]

The Devil's figure expanded its aura, and Julian saw it—a vision flowing directly into his mind. He saw other cities, other countries across the world. Bustling capitals, centers of commerce, bastions of religion, dens of art. He saw the seeds of dissonance he had sown in Lumièrebourg growing, becoming a moral plague that swept across societies, corrupting them from within.

"I desire the entire world, Maestro," the Devil whispered. "Not through brutal conquest, but through subtle corruption. Through art. Through your music. Your music will be a virus permeating souls, shattering moral foundations, and liberating their darkest desires. Make them hunger for sin. Make them embrace emptiness. Make them crave me."

Julian saw the vision with cold, gleaming eyes. This was the power he craved. This was the true masterpiece. "How, my Lord?" he asked, his voice filled with limitless ambition. "How can we do this without them realizing?"

"With the melodies you create. With your captivating charisma," the Devil replied. "You will go to places where power and influence are concentrated. Cities that are the heart of their civilization. You will play. You will speak. You will establish gatherings for me, not as open places of worship, but as centers of 'self-liberation,' where they can celebrate their sins and emptiness under your guidance. You will show them that morality is but an illusion. That love is a lie. That true freedom exists only in darkness."

The Devil's figure drew closer, its aura pressing down. "I have other agents in this world, in different forms. Some will aid you, some will test you, and some will challenge you. I desire you to be their Maestro, the leader who will unify this chaos."

Julian felt a greater surge of power permeate him. He was the true conductor of this symphony of ruin. "William... Celia..." Julian whispered, the thoughts of delayed vengeance still haunting him. "What about them?"

The Devil's figure chuckled softly, a bone-chilling laugh. "They are merely small notes in this grand symphony, Maestro. William, he is safe for now. A vexing, yet temporary protection. And Celia... she has performed her duty well. She is a valuable pawn, and she will continue to serve me. Do not trouble yourself with them. Focus on the greater purpose. On the power you desire."

The Devil's grip on Julian's mind tightened, sweeping away any lingering doubt or troublesome emotion. He was now utterly an instrument. A machine designed for one purpose.

"Go, Julian Lucien Malrick. Become what you were born to be. Be the Maestro of Darkness. And make this world dance to your dissonance."

[Return from the Portal]

Julian felt his body being pulled back by an unseen force. In an instant, the colors of the human world returned. He stood in the hidden alley in Lumièrebourg, where the black portal had now vanished without a trace, as if it had never existed. The cold night air felt refreshing, but he knew, he himself had changed forever. He had seen the Throne of Hell, heard the Lord of Darkness's plan, and accepted his new destiny.

His face formed a faint smile, full of power and satisfaction. The concerts in Lumièrebourg were merely a warm-up. Now, he possessed a map, a guide to spread the true symphony of ruin. He was the Maestro of Darkness, and the world was his new stage.