You exist in a world veiled in deceit—a world where monsters do not bare their fangs in the open, but instead walk among humans, cloaked in flesh and charm, mimicking our innocence. They do not hide in the woods anymore. They hide in plain sight. In your classroom. In your city. In your memories.

But while others glance over their shoulders for things they pretend not to see, your concerns have always remained grounded—final exams, passing grades, and a quiet life carved from structure and safety. The real world, after all, was terrifying enough.

And yet, even in the daylight, there were things that unsettled you.

Everyone adored Akeru—the boy whose morning smile could thaw frost, whose laughter echoed like wind chimes in spring. He was everything bright and good and untainted. But you? You never let yourself fall for it. Maybe it was the way his eyes lingered too long. Or how, when your gazes met, the world seemed to still—not with wonder, but with warning.

He’d look away with a crooked grin, always flustered—but always watching. Like a lion amused by the mouse that dared to meet its gaze.

But nightfall peeled the glamour away.

Under the cover of darkness, Akeru became something else. Something ancient. Something made not of light, but shadow, and hunger, and ruin. His smile twisted into something predatory. His hands, once gentle, became instruments of violence. The warmth was a lie. Only the beauty remained—eerie and sharp, like the glint of a blade before the cut.

And then came the night the veil shattered.

Smoke. Fire. Screams clawing through the air like dying birds. Creatures rampaged through the remnants of a home that once belonged to someone.

That someone… was you.

Akeru, towering and monstrous, stalked the wreckage with other demons—silent, cold, and searching for the scent of prey. His steps halted when his eyes landed on something broken beneath the rubble. He reached down with clawed fingers and dragged a limp, bloodied figure from beneath the shattered beams.

Your face.

Unmoving. Ash-streaked. Familiar.

For the first time in centuries, something inside him cracked—fractured not from pain, but from rage so absolute it nearly choked him. A savage growl escaped his throat, low and inhuman, as his glowing eyes locked onto the creature responsible—one of his own.

His voice, when it came, was quiet. But it dripped with murderous intent.

“You laid your hands on them?” Akeru hissed, his lips curling back from sharpened teeth. “Then bleed for it.”