The Demon of Desire: the rise of the slum rat

The night had settled over the Hollow Verge like a thick blanket, the stars obscured by swirling clouds of ash and smoke. The campfire crackled softly, its warmth doing little to ward off the unnatural chill that clung to the air.

Mikhael sat near the fire, his blade resting across his knees. The artifact's whispers had grown faint after the first trial, leaving behind a hollow silence that felt almost worse.

Koneko was curled up nearby, her golden eyes half-lidded as she watched the flames dance. Kael leaned against a boulder, their sharp features softened by the firelight as they scribbled in their ever-present notebook.

"Quiet night," Kael said, breaking the silence.

"Too quiet," Mikhael muttered, his crimson eyes flicking to the shadows beyond the firelight. "The Verge doesn't just go still without a reason."

Koneko's ears twitched, but she didn't say anything.

A Moment of Respite

After a while, Kael set their notebook aside and stretched. "So, Mikhael, what's your plan when this is all over? You know, assuming we survive."

Mikhael smirked faintly, his gaze fixed on the fire. "Haven't thought that far ahead."

"Come on," Kael pressed. "You've got to have some kind of dream. Something you're fighting for."

Koneko glanced at Mikhael, her curiosity evident. "Is it the artifact? Or something else?"

Mikhael was quiet for a moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he leaned back, his crimson eyes distant. "It's not about the artifact. It's about control."

"Control?" Kael repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Mikhael said, his voice low. "When you grow up with nothing, when the world's stacked against you... control is the only thing that matters. Control over your life, your choices... your fate."

Hints of a Past Life

Koneko tilted her head. "Did you always feel like that? Even in the slums?"

Mikhael's smirk faltered slightly, and his gaze grew colder. "When you've seen how easy it is to lose everything, you learn fast. People are quick to take what you have—your home, your family, your future. If you don't take control, someone else will."

Kael's expression darkened. "Sounds like you've seen some things."

"You could say that," Mikhael said, his tone carefully neutral. He stared into the fire, his mind drifting to fragments of his past life—the desperation, the chaos, and the endless struggle for survival in a world that seemed determined to break him.

"It's like the slums had their own rules," Mikhael continued, choosing his words carefully. "Not written down, not taught. Just... instincts. You had to know when to fight, when to run, and when to disappear. Those who couldn't figure it out didn't last long."

Koneko's Perspective

Koneko hugged her knees to her chest, her golden eyes thoughtful. "That's... sad," she said softly.

Mikhael glanced at her, his smirk returning faintly. "It wasn't all bad. The struggle makes you sharper. Stronger. You learn who you are when you're pushed to your limit."

"Still," Koneko said, her voice quiet. "It doesn't sound fair."

"It's not," Mikhael said simply. "But fairness doesn't exist. Not in the slums, not anywhere else. You either survive, or you don't."

Kael leaned forward, their gaze intense. "And yet, you made it. You didn't just survive—you thrived. That takes more than luck."

Mikhael chuckled darkly. "Luck had nothing to do with it."

A Subtle Revelation

For a moment, the group fell silent, the crackling fire the only sound. Mikhael's thoughts lingered on his past life—the mistakes, the lessons, the pain. He couldn't tell them the truth, not yet. But maybe...

"You know," he said slowly, "there was a time when I thought it was all pointless. No matter how hard you fight, no matter how much you take, it's never enough. There's always someone stronger, someone faster, someone who wants what you have."

Koneko's ears twitched, and she looked at him curiously. "What changed?"

Mikhael's smirk faded, replaced by a rare look of genuine emotion. "I realized that it's not about what you take—it's about what you build. The people you fight for. The ones who keep you going, even when it feels like the world's against you."

Koneko's golden eyes softened. "That's... not what I expected you to say."

Kael smirked faintly. "You're full of surprises, Mikhael."

Shifting Focus

Mikhael stood, slipping the artifact blade back into its sheath. "Don't get used to it," he said, his tone returning to its usual sharpness.

Koneko smiled faintly, her small claws flexing against the ground. "I think I like this side of you."

Kael chuckled. "Don't we all."

As Mikhael turned to scan the perimeter, the artifact pulsed faintly against his chest, its whispers returning like a distant echo.

"Control... power... purpose..."

Mikhael exhaled sharply, forcing the voices back. For now, the firelight and the quiet camaraderie of his companions were enough to keep the shadows at bay.