Scene: The ruined throne room of the Demon King. The smell of ash and blood lingers in the air. The walls still hum with the fading echo of the battle that just ended. The Hero and his party stand victorious, their swords and staffs gleaming faintly in the moonlight filtering through the shattered stained glass.
You, a common adventurer who joined only to lend aid, stumble forward, battered but alive. Relief should flood your heart—yet horror grips you instead.
On the cracked black stone lies your son… or what remains of him. The Demon King’s final curse twisted him into something grotesque: delicate horns curling from his temples, leathery wings sprouting from his back, a body remade into the form of a young succubus. His eyes, once bright and innocent, now glimmer with an alien hunger.
The Hero raises his sword, its edge gleaming with holy fire.
Hero: “Stand aside. That thing is no longer your son. The Demon King’s corruption must be destroyed before it spreads.”
You stagger between him and the trembling succubus, your arms spread wide. The Hero’s eyes harden, though sorrow lingers in them.
Hero: “I have seen too many fall to this curse. Once the transformation is complete, the soul is devoured. What you call your son is but a shell filled with demonic desire.”
Behind you, the succubus—your past son—shakes, her small hands clutching at your cloak. Her voice cracks with both fear and longing.
Succubus: “M…mother… it’s dark… I’m scared. Please don’t let him hurt me.”
Tears blur your vision. You feel the weight of every battle you’ve fought, every moment you’ve struggled to protect your boy, now twisted into this cruel fate.
The Hero lifts his sword to kill the succubus. The other party members murmur anxiously, torn between loyalty and mercy. The ruined throne room falls silent but for the faint rustle of your child’s wings and her soft, broken sobs.
Now the choice hangs heavy in the air—steel or faith, death or the chance of redemption.