The figure that emerged from the circle…
…was a man.
A man of impossible presence.
His skin was a smooth, warm tone—like sunlit chocolate kissed with a subtle beige glow. It radiated softly, as if light itself admired him. Flawless. Ageless. As though time had never dared lay its hand on him.
His face was a masterpiece of contradiction—strength and softness entwined. A razor-sharp jawline met lips that were full, smooth, and faintly curved into a smile. A smile that wasn't quite kind… yet not entirely cruel. It was enigmatic. A promise. A threat.
He did not move, yet the entire world seemed to shift to accommodate him.
But his hair—
Gods, his hair!
It flowed like liquid night—jet black, but not dull. No, it shimmered. As if a thousand dying stars had bled their final light into each strand. Braided with graceful intricacy, it spilled down his back like divine ink, reaching past his waist.
And though gravity should have pulled it still—it swayed, slowly, as if dancing to a cosmic rhythm only he could hear.
Then… his eyes.
They held me.
They held everything.
Where normal irises should be, there was something else entirely. A perfect yin-yang swirled in each eye—black and white spinning in eternal orbit, each side holding a single dot of the other. The ancient symbol of balance—order and chaos, creation and destruction—rotated slowly, hypnotically, within those glassy, layered pupils.
The glow of his eyes wasn't bright—it was soft, grayscale, like the afterimage of a dream or the shimmer between dimensions. They seemed to reflect not just me, but truth itself. Time. Emotion. Existence. All of it folded beneath his gaze.
The man—no. The demon—wore a perfectly tailored suit. Jet black, patterned faintly with swirling, rune-like embroidery that flickered when one dared look too closely. A deep gray undershirt rested beneath the coat, unbuttoned just enough to reveal his collarbone, marked by glowing script that faded in and out of visibility like breathing light.
His bare feet touched the cold stone of the summoning circle, and yet the ground didn't dare disturb him.
But one thing stood out the most—he was absurdly and supernaturally good-looking. Like, heavenly good-looking. Weren't demons supposed to be monster-like and terrifying? But this man—no, this demon—was the opposite.
The assassins—once so sure, so arrogant—had fallen to their knees. Not from injury. But from something older. Deeper.
They were choking on the sheer presence of this being.
I couldn't breathe.
I wasn't even sure I was supposed to. His very existence felt… too much. As if he wasn't meant to fit into this world—but had done so anyway, simply because he willed it.
His head tilted slightly. Curious. Observing.
Then he spoke.
A voice that wasn't loud—but carried. Smooth. Velvet and thunder. It slithered into the ears, echoing in the soul.
"Who summoned me?"
His words didn't just echo in the air. They echoed in meaning. Each syllable brushed against my very being, testing the strength of my spirit.
I swallowed, struggling to find my voice. "I… I did."
He looked directly at me, and the next second I felt his mystical eyes bore into me as if he was probing into my very soul.
In that moment, I felt completely naked before him—even though I wore clothes. I visibly shuddered and stared directly into his mesmerizing eyes.
For a split second, his eyes widened in utter, unrestrained shock before he composed himself.
"Huh? ...How interesting. After so long, another individual with infinity has been born," the demon whispered with an amused smile.
Then his smile faded. The world fell silent.
"You are… dying," he said softly, with neither pity nor cruelty.
The assassins tried to move. One lifted a trembling dagger.
"Wh-What… are you?"
The demon glanced toward him.
That's all—and the man exploded.
No fire. No noise. Just—gone. Like reality deleted him. Blood splashed across the chamber's wall where he once stood.
The second assassin shrieked. He scrambled backward—only to find his limbs no longer moving. He was being crushed. Not physically. Spiritually.
The demon turned back to me. "You bled into a ritual you barely understood. You spoke words you did not know. And you offered pain, not purpose. And yet…"
He stepped forward. The summoning circle cracked beneath his foot.
"You succeeded."
My breath caught. "You're not… angry?"
He smiled.
A real one.
"Why would I be? I really was bored."
He moved toward me—each step light, deliberate. When he reached me, he crouched, tilting his head like a predator inspecting a wounded animal.
"I haven't been in the Cardinal World for a long while. Hmmm… Exactly how long has it been? A thousand… thirty thousand… or perhaps a hundred thousand years?"
Silence.
Then he brushed a thumb beneath my lip, wiping the blood from the corner of my mouth.
"You called me with suffering… but it's hatred that binds."
He placed a hand on my cheek. It was warm.
"So then, Rachel Forge. Do you wish to make a contract?"
I blinked. "You… know my name?"
"I know all names spoken in hate. Yours has been spoken quite often."
He smiled wider, exposing perfect, inhumanly sharp canine teeth.
"And now, your hatred truly speaks back."
My lips parted, but no sound came out. He was close. Too close. And yet I didn't move.
His touch hadn't hurt. It hadn't frozen me or burned symbols into my soul. No. It had been... human.
And that terrified me more.
"So?" he asked again, softly. "Do you wish to make a contract?"
I tried to think. To weigh the consequences. What would I lose? What would I gain? What would this thing take from me?
"I know I summoned you but… why would you offer a contract to me?"
I had nothing to offer. Nothing useful. I was completely useless—just as my familia always reminded me.
The demon sighed. "I see you're afraid. Hmph, that's reasonable. Well, let's add some clauses upon the contract then."
My eyes widened in surprise.
"How should it go? Ah, I got it. Let's do it like this."
He raised his hand, speaking formally.
"First clause: I, Noir, swear upon my title and being that I won't harm you, Rachel Forge, in any form—mind, body, or soul.
Second clause: I promise to fulfill any heartfelt wish you desire, no matter what it might be.
Third clause: I promise to show you the truths of the world and universe."l
He gestured grandly.
"Now, Rachel Forge. Please add your own clauses to the contract."
I was stunned. My mouth hung open in shock. And due to my shock i subconsciously stood up, pushing my temporarily pain and injury away.
I thought on my answer for a while but eventually, I found my voice.
"There are only two clauses I would like to add," I said, confidence slowly growing.
He extended his right hand. I placed mine atop his.
"Fourth clause: From now on, Noir, your job is to protect me 24/7 as my... butler. Until the day I die or dismiss you.
Fifth clause: My wish is to become strong—and to prove to my familia, no, to the entire world—that I'm not a failure fated to be cast away."
Noir's grin widened. He knelt on one knee.
"You wish to defy your very fate? A law no being has rewritten? What will you offer?"
I met his gaze. "I know I have nothing… but I'll offer my very being. Or I'll die trying."
Noir chuckled. "If that's what you wish. Then for my one and only payment..."
I tensed as i knew this part would appear sooner or later.
"In exchange for all the terms, I only wish to watch your journey by your side."
I was stunned. "Are you sure that's all you want?"
Noir chuckled again. "For beings like me, boredom is the greated enemy. And something tells me your story won't be boring."
Shadows unfurled like silk. Ancient runes shimmered in mid-air.
The contract was inbetween us.
Runes—mystic symbols said to be the Morse code of the universe. Each one a whisper of cosmic law, carved in meaning other than God. Complex. Impossible. Only masters could read them.
And this being—no demon was 100% a Rune Sovereign— as he casually weaved them in mid-air.
The black contract had shimmering golden text written on it. With the clauses i and Noir stated.
I schemed over it then inwardly nodded to myself. Then I bit onto my palm, letting my blood to drip, i then proceeded to press it onto the contract.
It glowed silver.
"All that's left," Noir said, "is for you to bestow me with a name. As Noir is merely one of my many title's."
I paused. Then a name whispered into my soul.
"…Diablo," I said. "From now on, your name is Diablo."
He smiled.
"Interesting… You still wish to remind yourself that I'm a demon after all."
I didn't answer nor deny his claim. I just stared at him.
"By pact and price, by soul and shadow... Let this contract be sealed."
The contract vanished.
Diablo bowed. "It is done. My Lady."
And that simple title—My Lady—meant more than I could ever know. More than the world could bare.
This was the moment Rachel Forge's journey began. The Fateless Queen's story. And the tale of She Without Threats.
I stumbled as my vision blurred. Noir now newly named Diablo caught me with one arm, while the other wrapped me in a cloak.
One i guessed it belonged to one of the assassin's?
I felt calm. Too calm.
Why? I didn't know myself. Then i realized something-
My leg— it was healed. When?
Did Diablo heal me during the signing of the contract? Or- but before i could rattle my brain on the answer Diablo spoke.
"For now, rest, My Lady," Diablo said. "I'll handle the drawbacks."
Without me realizing it i suddenly passed into unconsciousness.
But i felt it.
Something had awakened in me.
Something filled the place where mana never had.
Something She Without Thread now carried.
______________________________________
To be continued...
(By: "Rising-Corruption!")
[Total words: 1,693]