Becoming the Dark Lord

Luke was still at the bar when something familiar brushed against his senses.

“Well, look who’s here, little demon,” Vaelor said.

There stood the Demonic Blacksmith.

“Vaelor.”

Luke held out his hand, and Vaelor shook it, giving him a brief, friendly nod.

“I kept an eye on you during the event,” Vaelor said. “Specifically, on your pet.”

He pointed at Luke’s stomach, at the core.

“Got a few minutes? I want to hear about your progress straight from you.”

Luke saw no reason to refuse. The two of them left the bar and headed toward an area that felt like a restaurant, with tables arranged around an elegant fountain. Water flowed in silence, reflecting strange lights across the hotel’s high ceiling.

They sat near the fountain’s edge, and Vaelor got straight to the point, almost too eager for an ancient, dangerous demon.

“What type is it?”

Luke knew there were four possibilities: Specter, Sinister, Nightmare, and Typhon.

“Typhon,” he answered.

For the first time since sitting down, Vaelor stopped moving. He did not look surprised, exactly. He looked annoyed that he’d been right.

“Of course it had to be that one...”

The demon fell silent for a few seconds before explaining the differences between those creature types in more detail. Luke listened without interrupting. From what Vaelor said, Typhon was not just rare. It was the worst possible answer.

“So it’s true,” Vaelor said, eyes fixed on him. “You really did unlock the Path of Fusion.”

Luke leaned back in his chair, remembering the armor and the violence burning through him like a fever.

“I heard a voice when I used the armor. And I felt like I became... more violent.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Vaelor murmured. “No wonder it’s a Typhon creature.”

He placed four small metal ants on the table. They were finely crafted miniatures, each one larger than the last.

“I’ll explain it using ants, Luke Moon. Think of a colony. There are workers, soldiers, males... and finally, the queen. The difference between Specter, Sinister, Nightmare, and Typhon follows a similar logic. In terms of importance, a Typhon is a queen. The crown jewel among the Apex Typhon’s offspring. One in a million. Hard to produce and extremely dangerous.”

Luke looked down at the tiny ants on the table.

“And the voice? It spoke my language.”

“What you heard was probably the Apex Typhon. But it didn’t speak your language. It transmits intent. Psychic commands. Your brain must have interpreted that as a voice. Typhon-type creatures have a deep connection to the Apex. That’s why you can feel traces of its influence.”

“Is it dangerous for me to use Spectral Fusion?”

“Yes and no.” Vaelor picked up one of the miniatures and rolled it between his fingers. “Use it carefully. Never abuse that power. Push it too far, and your body may survive.”

Vaelor set the miniature ant down. “You may not.”

Luke exhaled through his nose. “Thanks for the warning. Knowing me, I would’ve tried pushing it to the limit every chance I got.”

“Keep it as a trump card. You must have felt how badly your body weakened after using the fusion. Lean on that power too often, keep pulling that thread, and sooner or later it’ll snap. And when it does, that’s it.”

They kept talking for a while longer, until Vaelor changed the subject and brought up the hammer.

“Sorry,” Luke said. “I still haven’t found anyone in my universe to become your apprentice.”

“And your kingdom?”

“Well...” Luke glanced away for a second. “Let’s just say I haven’t exactly started.”

Vaelor propped his elbows on the table, thoughtful.

“Any other time, I might rush you just for fun. But considering the event, I understand things were complicated. Now, with the Kingdom Core available to you...”

“And what’s that?” Luke asked.

Before Vaelor could answer, an old woman sat down at their table as if she had already been invited.

“Why, Vaelor, are you spoiling surprises?” she asked.

The next instant, the old woman’s eyes turned green and serpentine.

“Primord—”

Vaelor never finished. The old woman covered his mouth with a wrinkled hand, but the pressure behind the gesture said she could crush his jaw if she wanted to.

“Everyone is better off not knowing who I am,” the old woman said.

Luke stared at her. It was Asmodeus.

She turned her face toward him and smiled, sweet enough to be completely untrustworthy.

“My dear little grandson, did you enjoy the Battle Royale? We hardly got to talk about it.”

A moment later, someone else sat at the table.

Samael.

“Sending him to that Battle Royale truly was something only you would do,” he said to Asmodeus.

Luke planted his hands on the table. “I want to know why you sent me into that hellhole. Not that I couldn’t win. Obviously, I did. But it was a waste of time. And it only put me in the hero’s pa—”

He stopped.

Then the truth hit him.

Asmodeus began playing with a few tarot cards between her fingers.

“If I hadn’t sent you there, the system wouldn’t have thrown the hero’s assistants onto that island to balance the scales,” she said. “Without that chain of events, your fight in the city against Casper would’ve been a slaughter. Zoe wouldn’t have been the only one boosting the hero. Amelia, George, David, and Elijah would’ve been backing him too.”

She placed a card on the table. “And then they could have all joined the hunt.”

The old woman kept smiling as she moved the cards around. “Answer me this: is a hero boosted by five assistants something you would have beaten? Actually, it would have been six assistants, since there’s a chance the hero would have grown less cautious and brought his brother too.”

Luke stayed silent for a moment. “I can’t answer for something that didn’t happen.”

“Didn’t happen...” Asmodeus tilted her head. “Or wasn’t allowed to happen?”

She spread more cards across the table. “I happen to be one of the best readers of karmic paths alive. If I’m telling you the best thing that ever happened to you was going to that Battle Royale, then it was. And the reward it gave you... you’ll thank me for that one day. Not today. Not now. But in a few months, maybe a year. Who knows?”

Luke did not like the answer. The worst part? It made sense. Which meant he owed her. Because of that change, he had later killed the Hero of Flame. It all led back to the Battle Royale.

“You can see the future?” Luke asked.

“No.” The old woman smiled. “I see Chaos.”

Vaelor looked uncomfortable with the cards on the table.

“We should leave divination for another time, Asmodeus,” Samael said, covering the cards with one hand. “Or the Manager will come down here to scold us. And I don’t want to attract unnecessary attention.”

He looked at Luke. “By the way, Luke. You’ll have to make your membership in our Order official.”

Before Luke could answer, Asmodeus placed something else on the table.

“How about a game of Monopoly?”

And somehow, the four of them ended up playing.

Time seemed to move strangely, too fast and too slow at once. Asmodeus watched Vaelor roll the dice. The piece advanced space by space until it stopped in front of a property crowned by a red hotel.

The old woman’s smile slowly widened.

“Looks like I’m bankrupting you,” she said, extending a hand for the rent. “Start mortgaging your properties. I’ll take the rest in despair.”

Around them, event participants ate, drank, and gathered with important figures from various divine orders. Luke played, but his eyes kept drifting through the restaurant, watching people, faces, presences.

“If I were you, I’d relax,” Samael said.

“Give me one reason.”

“You’re smart. You know your mother saw your name on that list. And you know that if she hasn’t come to you, it’s because she’s running.”

“So...?”

“So she must be more alert now. And you understand hunting. The best move is to wait for the fly to land in the web. Then you strike.”

Luke pressed his fingers against the edge of the table. He would have to wait until Elizabeth Moon lowered her guard.

“I don’t even know how to get around this hotel,” he said.

“Then learn.”

More drinks were offered to them. After a while, the four of them were just drinking while Asmodeus shared stories that sounded impossible, absurd, and, for that exact reason, probably true.

Then a notification appeared in front of Luke.

[Your Familiar has been teleported near your location]

He frowned.

“My familiar notification keeps blinking, but I can’t find Franky.”

“If the familiar didn’t appear near you here,” Samael said, swirling his wineglass, “then it was probably sent to the location where you’ll appear on New Earth.”

“Got it. So he’s probably at my house.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

Luke looked at him. “You’re leaving something out.”

Samael took a sip before answering.

“Look. Some people were on planes. Some were inside buildings. Some were skydiving, climbing mountains, doing dangerously stupid things. The system has to relocate billions of people onto a planet that literally got bigger. New continents. More landmass. More everything. Dropping everyone back on the exact same spot would be impossible. If it dropped you in the same place, because of all the changes, you’d probably end up inside a wall, underground, or maybe dropped straight into open space.”

Luke rubbed his forehead, but let Samael continue.

“So, based on the geographic coordinates of where you were, it will calculate the planet’s new configuration and place you somewhere nearby and safe. Not next to a creature that will kill you, not underground, not in the sky so you can fall to your death, and not at the bottom of the ocean. So no. There is a ninety-five percent chance you will not appear inside your house. Outside is likely. And don’t forget that billions of people returned at the end of Stage 2. Changes to the environment may already have happened because of you. Your house might not even look the same. Your parents could have built something, expanded it, torn down walls. Well, you get it.”

“You could’ve just said the familiar goes to Earth, but not to the exact location,” Asmodeus concluded. “Only to a safe nearby area.”

Luke looked from one to the other. “And my Advisor? If it’s not Samael, is it one of you two?”

“Not me,” Vaelor answered.

Asmodeus raised an eyebrow. “Are you talking about the god who bet a gigantic fortune on you winning the exact second the event began? Not me. I’m not that insane. And believe me, I understand insanity.”

“Then who the fuck is it?”

Samael smiled like he knew exactly how annoying his answer would be.

“You should meet him soon.”

Later, after searching the lounge for Elizabeth Moon and finding no trace of her, Luke stopped at the central bar and ordered more drinks. The bartender was a purple humanoid creature with tentacles.

“I’m basically in Monsters, Inc., right?” Luke asked.

“Hm?”

“Forget it. You wouldn’t get it.” Luke rested his arms on the counter. “Give me something that won’t kill me and can actually get me drunk. I’ve got a lot to think about.”

A drink was served. Luke sat at the counter, drinking in silence. Then someone sat beside him. Not loudly. Not dramatically. One moment, the seat was empty. The next, a figure in a ragged brown cloak was there.

“The same... as his,” the figure requested.

The drink was served.

“Bad... day?” it asked.

Luke looked sideways, repeated his own shot, and drank.

“You’re not my mother, are you? Because if you are, I’d kind of prefer you stayed missing right now. I’m still processing things.”

“No...” the figure said.

“Thank God.” Luke pointed at the other man’s glass. “Give him another shot.”

He stopped for a second.

“Oh, wait. I don’t even have money. I have no idea how I’m going to pay for this, or what it costs.”

“We deduct it from your points,” the bartender said.

“Then cancel that shot.”

A low laugh came from inside the cloak.

“You are... funny.”

“Are you my Advisor God? Or are you here to recruit me into a mafia, a pyramid scheme, a secret organization, or whatever?”

“I am not your... Advisor God. And I also... did not come to invite you. I don’t have... that authority. Not in the Order... I belong to.”

Luke gave a small laugh. “The way you talk reminds me of a friend of mine.”

“That is because... she is... my granddaughter.”

Luke stopped with the glass halfway to his mouth. Slowly, he turned his face toward the figure in the brown cloak.

“Pleasure...” the man said. “P.”

“P? Like the real Pinocchio?”

“That’s right... Luke Moon.”

“Nice to meet you, I guess. Mr. P.”

“You took care... of my granddaughter... Anne.”

The memory hit harder than it had any right to.

“She survived? Sorry. I never saw if she got eliminated.”

“She survived, yes.”

Luke let out a breath.

“Good. She helped me in there. I owe her for that win.” He stared at his glass for a moment. “Do you know anything she’d like as a gift? If it’s at the auction, I can buy it. I don’t know.”

“Needles.”

Luke nodded slowly. “Yeah. That tracks.”

P stayed silent for a few seconds before asking, “Do you believe in Apocrypha?”

“Apocrypha?” Luke frowned. “I don’t even know what that is.”

“I see... You do not know it yet.”

“Anne once told me you made her body,” Luke said. “She was born without one. Just a soul, tied to her sister.”

“Conjoined souls,” P replied. “It happens when... a puppet and a human have a child. One body. Two souls. Erza was human. Anne was a doll.”

If Artemis had been there, this was exactly when she would’ve made some sex joke.

“You’re really good at making bodies for souls,” Luke went on. “Good enough that the body follows the soul’s system and grows with it.”

“The best,” P said. “Within my... field, of course.”

Luke rested his arms near the counter, choosing his words carefully. Not exactly a simple request.

“I need something done,” he said. “I need to put a robot’s consciousness into a corpse. Make it reactivate the body and merge with it. Or something close to that.”

“A robot?” P’s voice sharpened. “Technomagic?”

“No idea. It involves technology, magic, and organic material. The body was grown using the DNA of an abyssal creature.”

“Interesting.”

Luke narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t see what happened to me inside the pyramid?”

“No. The system... cut us off the moment... you entered.”

“I see.”

P leaned in. Or at least that was the impression Luke got from beneath the brown cloak.

“Can you... show me the robot?”

“I would,” Luke said, “but apparently I’m not allowed to—”

Before he could finish, P reached out and tapped him once.

“There,” P said. “You are authorized to remove one item... from your pocket dimension.”

Luke felt the restriction vanish. Like a lock clicking open inside him. And just like that, he could access the pocket dimension again.

Luke stared at the cloak.

“I have certain privileges here,” P added. “Frequent guest.”

Luke decided not to touch that. He simply pulled Cadmus out of the pocket dimension and set him on the counter.

All that emerged from the brown cloak was a white-gloved hand. Nothing more. Luke could not even tell what was under all that fabric. Part of him wanted to know what P really looked like, but some mysteries were probably healthier left alone.

P examined Cadmus in silence for a few seconds.

“Fascinating,” P said at last. “It may be possible, Luke Moon. But do not think... I will do it for free. Not for work this rare.”

Luke put Cadmus back into the pocket dimension.

“What’s your price?”

“Perhaps a task. Next time we meet... we can discuss it properly.”

“Where? Here in the hotel?”

“In the hotel?” P repeated, almost amused. “No. You will not see me again... in this hotel. I leave today.”

Luke frowned.

“Then how am I supposed to find you again? You know I’m a mortal from another universe. I don’t exactly have the Millennium Falcon parked outside.”

“We will meet again... when the butterflies find you. Perhaps sooner... than you think.”

“Butterflies?”

P extended a hand. “Until next time, Luke Moon. When the time comes, follow the butterfly.”

Luke stared at the hand for a second before taking it. “Yeah. Until next time... I guess.”

P walked away and vanished into the crowd as if he had never been there.

“That was pretty Jedi,” Luke muttered, rising a little unsteadily. “I’m tired of making Star Wars references, Artemis.”

The necklace remained silent.

Luke looked for someone on the hotel staff. “Excuse me... how do I get to room one-million-something?”

They pointed him toward a massive corridor. Luke followed the hotel hallway, trying very hard to walk in a straight line. The walls were made of glass, and the place looked like it was at the bottom of a lake. Or maybe the walls were only displaying the bottom of a lake. Mermaids passed by outside, waving as if this were perfectly normal.

“Am I really drunk, or is the floor actually moving?”

The floor began to move. The hotel’s structure shifted in front of him. Visible staircases changed places, corridors rearranged themselves, and the path seemed to fold back over itself.

“Nope. It’s moving. Great. We’re doing Harry Potter now.”

He kept walking until he found an area with elevators. It took a while, but he managed to reach his floor. When the door opened, Luke realized it was not a room. It was an entire wing.

“Yeah, they definitely didn’t cheap out.”

He went inside, locked the door, and, for one night, decided to ignore the problems gnawing at his mind. The truth was simple: Luke was exhausted.

Physically, mentally, spiritually.

The last few days had been a chain of violence, revelations, and decisions that could break anyone. He grabbed a bottle of wine resting in a bowl filled with pyramid-shaped ice, opened it without ceremony, and started drinking as he walked toward the master bedroom.

“What a day...” He opened the door. “Finally. Rest.”

Then he saw someone lying on the bed.

Luke spat out the wine.

“Hi, honey. How about devouring an elven goddess tonight?” Artemis smiled at him.

Not from the necklace.

Not as a voice in his head.

In the flesh.

So, who called it? Remember that illustration I mentioned at the start? It’s actually from the scene right above: Artemis lying on the bed, staring right at him.

Thanks for reading, as always. Tomorrow’s chapter has a lot more Artemis.