After Demian left Hades's mansion, he had barely walked for minutes when a black van pulled up in front of him.
Four masked men dressed in black ambushed him with guns and forced him into the van.
They drove out of the city, but Demian remained calm to see what they were up to.
There was no home for him here anymore. 20 years ago, he was 13 at the time, when his parents died in a fatal accident. At a very young age, he learnt to take care of himself.
When he came of age, he married Marianne, his childhood friend. Even though he was poor, he always supported her in every way necessary.
The only real family he had was Marianne and her Mom, and he cherished every moment.
He financed her acting career when she joined the small industry. They were happy together, until FOUR years ago.
He had found a book about unimaginable wealth. Following the book's instructions, Demian went to the ocean at 1am.
He recited the words in the book, hoping to find the unimaginable wealth that would elevate him from the shackles of poverty so he could give Marianne a better life.
However, a crimson light came from the water and pulled him into a strange world full of wonders—the Alter Realms.
…
…
"Who the fuck do you think you're?" one of the masked men spoke out of the blue, calling Demian back from his deep thoughts.
Demian looked in his direction absent of fear. The man was quiet now, but his gaze was fixed on Demian.
"Let me get this straight. Hades sent cheap assassins to abduct me?"
There was no response.
He sighed deeply and shook his head.
"Men who don't have balls to show their faces before an unarmed man." He taunted.
The man glared. His eyes blazing hot. He was obviously the team leader.
To prove his might, he took off his mask, revealing his face. A gigantic black male, the same bodyguard whom Quentin Rastro had sent to find Demian.
He leaned forward—"Now that you've seen my face, it's not gonna change what's about to happen to you."
Demian rolled his eyes, no comment.
The man sat back. "You shouldn't have picked a fight with Hades. He's well connected. Now you've gotten my boss's attention." he said casually.
Demian went silent for a minute as he studied the man and his subordinates who had refused to take their masks off. "Your boss. Who is he?"
The men on black all laughed in unison, and Demian joined, not knowing what they were laughing at exactly.
When their tone died down, the team leader leaned forward; "that's Quentin Rastro, the famous billionaire." he said, like he expected Demian to get scared on hearing the name.
But Demian couldn't hold back his laughter.
"What's funny?"
The men stared at him with confusion written all over their faces.
Demian laughed until his ribs cracked. He needed the joke. He needed a spark to divert his attention from the humiliation, from the heartbreak, from everything.
The vehicle came to a stop in a bushy path somewhere far from the city. It was raining heavily.
There was nothing but trees and bushes around. But on the downside, there was a small warehouse sitting in-between trees.
"Let's go." The team leader ordered and pushed Demian from behind.
They navigate through the woods in silence until they got to the warehouse. It was warm and dark inside.
A light bulb flickered with a weak current by the far end.
"Halt," the team leader commanded and Demian stopped. The other men pushed him to the chair behind and tied him against the chair.
"So where is this boss of yours? Tell him to show himself. I don't have time," Demian said, and put on a serious face.
The men exchanged glances.
"Still talking big huh? Do you have any idea what is about to happen to you?" The team leader asked, voice dripping with menace.
A grin stretched on Demian's chin. "Do you have any idea what I can do to you? You'll be a fool to think of me as your prisoner."
The men went quiet. Confusion written on their faces and Demian burst out laughing.
But behind his laugh, was an excruciating pain tearing him apart. His gaze fixed on the roof above.
Memories came rushing back. The coldness in Marianne's eyes. The spark of love she used to have for him, it was no longer there. She was like a different person.
His thoughts drove towards the Alter Realms, towards Miranda, his lovely girlfriend whom he betrayed to come be with Marianne. He exhaled exhaustingly and mumbled; "Fuck…"
The bulb dimmed, and he pressed his elbows on his knees. His hands clasped so tight his knuckles whitened.
His abductors patrolled the place ensuring he didn't escape. But they had no idea. He came with them because he wished to and he could leave whenever he wanted.
The world around him moved on, but he felt stuck. Trapped between the man he used to be and the man he wished he had been for Miranda.
Guilt chewed at him like a slow, relentless fire. Every memory of her, her laugh, her tears, the way she used to look at him, flirt with him, play with him.
She gave him her heart, her body, and all. Yet, he betrayed her. He betrayed her for Marianne, his biggest regret. But it's too late.
Realizing he had betrayed her for his wife—Marianne, only to get heartbroken on earth hit harder than any punishment life could give.
His chest ached with a heaviness he couldn't shake. He kept replaying the moment he left the Alter Realms. He didn't tell Miranda because she would never agree to a goodbye.
He left, thinking he was doing the right thing, thinking Marianne must be hurt and in severe pain due to his disappearance.
He mocked himself, staring into the roof and thinking about the choices he had made.
"I've been a fool." he mumbled quietly. Tears gathered in his eyes. He tried to stay in control but it hurts.
Remembering the scene back in Hades's bedroom, Marianne fucking Hades before his eyes.
Meanwhile he stayed married to Marianne for 5 years before his disappearance, and not for once did he touch her body.
He never knew what she tastes like, what her moans sounded like. Because she wouldn't let him. She was never ready. And he believed her.
He waited for her, giving her everything that he had. Not knowing, she was manipulating him all along.
It felt like a fire had consumed his heart. He didn't look all-powerful. Rather, he appeared like a broken man.
He gasped, as his chest tightened.
What will Miranda be doing now? He thought. She would never forgive him. Regret clung to him as tightly as the shadows in the building.
He felt his loss, not loud, not dramatic, but a quiet, endless ache that lived beneath his ribs, reminding him every second of Miranda.
He had it all, but he gave it up for Marianne. Now he had lost it.
★
★
In a different dimension…a place believed to be a myth to many humans, there was a city decorated with beautiful lights and infrastructures.
Tall buildings littered everywhere. The road, the trains, the cars, they were all advanced. Unlike anything from Earth's science.
People floated on 20 feet height, while standing on a mechanized plate, a technology the Overlord had developed before leaving the Alter Realms.
This city felt too good to be true. It screamed futuristic science. Everything here was far beyond the reach of present Earth science.
This is the Alter Realms, the Universe that birth the reign of the Overlord, the immortal War God.
Inside the elevator heading to the last floor of a skyscraper, Miranda Pierce stood pressed. She exhaled sharply, eyes pointed upfront.
Her long black hair cascaded behind her back like a waterfall of silk. Her skin was spotless, her appearance racially mixed.
Her black jeans hugged her curves gracefully, exposing her hourglass figure.
Her full breasts strained against her top, rising with each furious breath as she walked aggressively towards the council hall.
This woman was an epitome of beauty. Beauty at its finest.
She pushed the doors wide open and stormed the hall with boiling anger. Her eyes were dark, filled with hunger for revenge. An unquenchable hunger for blood.
There was a roundtable in the hall, a meeting of executives, the Realms first class citizens.
"Cowards!!" She barked, and a tall black man stood up from his seat. He looked 50s and had the biggest seat in the hall. He was Marco Lambert, the Supreme Leader of the Realms, and also Miranda's father.
"What is the meaning of this madness? You have no right to barge into a place like this and rant!" He yelled.
"I don't care about any of this fucking laws you assholes make. You're weak. You're all weak. And we need a change of leadership in the Realms." Miranda screeched.
There was a short silence in the hall, and Marco left his seat and walked towards his daughter while the other top political experts watched in silence.
"Watch your mouth girl! You have no idea the treason you just spat out of your mouth!"
Miranda clenched her fists.
"Fuck it. You heard me, father. You're all weak. Our Realm is on the verge of destruction, and guess what? It's not from outside forces. It's from itself!" She snarled.
"What in the name of our ancestors are you talking about Miranda?" An elderly man from the table spoke up.
Miranda turned to the other political experts. "I'm talking about the one you all bow to. The one who came from earth and stole what belongs to us and left us to die."
She stepped forward. "I'm talking about Demian Kael."
There was no comment. All eyes fixated on her. The highest level of men in the Realms, watching her speak with utmost authority in their midst.
She stepped forward, her glare sinking into the minds of the elites. Her presence was felt. She leaned against the table and backed up.
"What exactly is your call, Miranda Pierce?" Another man asked. All eyes fell on her. The tension in the room heightened.
She met the gaze of the men, brutal, confident.
She parted her lips, but her breath hitched.
"I, Miranda Pierce…" she paused. Her emotions tried to get the best of her, but she shoved it off. "I'm carrying the Overlord's unborn child," all eyes widened. The elites exchanged glances.
Shocking whispers flew around. Miranda Pierce, pregnant, for the Overlord?
"And I hereby call for his death." Everybody froze.
"What?!" Marco Lambert sneered.
Miranda stood, shoulders high. "I will be the one to deliver his head." A chilling silence fell into the hall, followed by an order of chaos.