The Demon of Desire: the rise of the slum rat

The stronghold was silent, its ancient stone walls and faintly glowing runes offering a fragile sense of security. Mikhael leaned against a cracked pillar, his eyes closed as he tried to quiet the whispers of the artifact. The fight on the bridge still lingered in his mind—especially Shirone's plea that had stayed his hand.

"You're better than this."

Her words echoed in his thoughts, louder than the artifact's incessant murmurs.

Tensions in the Group

Kael paced near the center of the room, their sharp features etched with frustration. "You can't keep pretending everything is fine, Mikhael," they said, their voice cutting through the silence.

Mikhael opened one eye, his crimson gaze cold. "I handled it, didn't I?"

"Barely," Kael shot back. "And the next time? What happens when the artifact takes over completely? Are we supposed to fight you too?"

Shirone sat quietly in the corner, her golden eyes flickering between the two. Her usually calm demeanor was strained, and her small hands fidgeted in her lap.

"It's not like I asked for this," Mikhael muttered, pushing off the pillar.

"No," Kael said, stepping closer. "But you're acting like you can handle it alone. And that's going to get all of us killed."

The tension in the room was palpable, and for a moment, Mikhael considered snapping back. But then he saw the fear in Shirone's eyes—the same fear he'd seen on the bridge—and his anger deflated.

The Artifact's Influence Grows

As the argument died down, the artifact pulsed faintly against Mikhael's chest. He winced, the whispers in his mind growing louder.

"Power... control... take what's yours..."

Mikhael clenched his fists, his breathing shallow. The whispers were more insistent now, their tone almost mocking. He shook his head, trying to focus.

Kael noticed his struggle and sighed. "This isn't sustainable," they said, their tone softer. "If you don't confront whatever's inside that thing, it's going to break you."

"How?" Mikhael asked bitterly. "You don't know what it's like. It's not just some cursed object—it's alive. It's always there, waiting for me to slip."

Kael hesitated, their gaze thoughtful. "There might be a way."

The Trial's First Hints

Kael rummaged through their pack, pulling out a worn leather-bound book. They flipped through its pages before stopping at a faded diagram of a glowing sigil.

"This is an old Syndicate technique," Kael explained. "It's used to draw out the essence of cursed artifacts and contain them—temporarily, at least. If we can modify it, we might be able to force the artifact into a confrontation."

Mikhael frowned. "A confrontation?"

Kael nodded. "Think of it as an internal battle. You'd be facing the artifact directly—whatever it is inside there that's influencing you. If you win, you gain control. If you lose..."

"I'm dead," Mikhael finished, his tone flat.

"Not just dead," Kael said grimly. "The artifact would consume you entirely. It would use your body as a host to spread its influence further."

Shirone's eyes widened. "Isn't there another way?"

"No," Mikhael said, his voice steady. "If this is what it takes to get rid of it, I'll do it."

Preparing for the Trial

The group spent the next few hours preparing the sigil. Kael worked methodically, inscribing runes into the stone floor of the stronghold's main chamber. Shirone assisted, her nimble hands carefully tracing the intricate patterns under Kael's guidance.

Mikhael stood to the side, his crimson eyes fixed on the glowing artifact in his hand. The whispers were quieter now, as if the artifact sensed what was coming.

"You're nervous," Shirone said, breaking the silence as she approached him.

Mikhael smirked faintly. "I don't get nervous."

Shirone gave him a skeptical look. "You're a terrible liar."

He glanced at her, his smirk fading. "This thing... it's not just power. It's... something more. I don't know what I'll find when I face it."

"You'll win," Shirone said confidently.

Mikhael raised an eyebrow. "How do you know?"

"Because you're too stubborn to lose," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Mikhael chuckled softly, the tension in his chest easing slightly. "Thanks, kid."

A New Threat Emerges

As the sigil neared completion, Mikhael's Mana Sense flared sharply. He turned toward the entrance of the stronghold, his hand moving to the hilt of his blade.

"Something's coming," he said.

Kael cursed under their breath, quickly finishing the last rune. "We're not ready yet."

The door to the stronghold shuddered as a powerful force slammed against it. The faint glow of the wards flickered but held.

"Rogues?" Shirone asked, her claws extending.

"No," Mikhael said, his voice grim. "Something worse."

The door exploded inward, and a figure stepped through the dust and debris. It was Lucien, his silver hair gleaming in the dim light. His pale blue eyes glowed with malice, and a cruel smile twisted his lips.

"Did you miss me?" he asked, his tone mocking.

Mikhael drew his blade, his body tense. "You're persistent, I'll give you that."

Lucien chuckled darkly, his gaze flicking to the glowing sigil on the floor. "What's this? A desperate attempt to control your little toy?"

"Get out," Mikhael growled.

"Or what?" Lucien taunted. "You'll lose yourself to that thing and do my job for me?"

The artifact pulsed against Mikhael's chest, its whispers growing louder. "Power... control... destroy him..."

Shirone stepped forward, her golden eyes blazing. "Leave, or you'll regret it."

Lucien laughed, his voice echoing through the chamber. "Oh, I doubt that."

The Cliffhanger

Mikhael activated Shadow Step, closing the distance between himself and Lucien in an instant. Their blades clashed, the force of the impact sending shockwaves through the chamber.

Kael cursed as the sigil flickered. "We don't have time for this!"

The artifact's whispers grew deafening, and Mikhael felt its energy surging through him. The sigil began to glow brighter, its light consuming the room as the trial's activation neared.

The chapter ends with Mikhael's voice cutting through the chaos:

"Let's finish this."