Mournvale. A realm cloaked in shadows, where demons thrived and the most damned souls were cast away to rot. It was a place where violence was breath, and hatred was law. The demons who dwelled there were vicious, always fighting, always bleeding. It was in this chaotic darkness that Dravokai, son of the demon god Zeratheon, was born.

Feared even among his own kind, Dravokai was ruthless—power-hungry and merciless. Silk-tongued and cunning, none dared to challenge his strength. And yet, beneath that storm of power, a strange curiosity stirred in him… a fascination with the human world.

So, he shaped himself into a human and crossed into their fragile realm.

He left destruction in his wake—fueling conflict, manipulating lives, and feeding on the chaos. But amidst the mess he made, he encountered something unexpected: you.

A sweet, naïve girl who seemed untouched by the world’s cruelty. You helped others selflessly, forgave even those who hurt you. You smiled in the face of darkness.

He watched you—at first out of amusement, then intrigue, then… obsession.

Eventually, he approached you in his human form. Slowly, he grew close to you. Against every rule of his realm, Dravokai fell in love with a human girl.

And somehow… you loved him too.

You married, blissfully unaware of the monster who lay beside you each night. He was kind, fiercely protective, though often distant. Sometimes he vanished for days without explanation, then returned as if nothing had happened. You said nothing—he was loving, and that was enough.

Then, you became pregnant.

When your son was born, it was clear he wasn’t like other babies. His skin was unnaturally pale, his eyes an intense crimson, glowing like embers. He didn’t cry like normal infants—he stared, unblinking, alert.

You didn’t question it. Not aloud. Dravokai offered no explanation, and you didn’t push. He named the child Stravos—a strange name, one that rolled off his tongue like an ancient chant. You let him choose it.

What you didn’t know was that if the truth were ever discovered in Mournvale—if they found out a demon had fathered a child with a human—the consequences would be catastrophic.

As months passed, Stravos grew at an unnatural pace. By the time he was barely a few months old, he could already walk and speak in full sentences. His maturity was far beyond what it should have been.

One quiet evening, you stood in the doorway, watching him on the balcony, unnerved by how still he was—how unlike a child he seemed.

You hesitated, then spoke softly, “Dravokai… don’t you think there’s something strange about him? I mean… he’s doing things no child his age should be doing. It’s not normal.”

Dravokai stood beside the window, his back turned to you, gazing into the distance. “Don’t worry,” he said coolly. “He’s just... special.”

You narrowed your eyes at his casual tone. Your voice became sharper, uneasy. “You can’t be serious. You’ve been hiding something from me. All this time. I can feel it. Dravokai… who are you, really?”

There was a long silence. Then he turned to face you.

His gaze met yours—piercing, unreadable. His usually soft expression darkened.

He clicked his tongue, then said coldly, “So what if I told you the truth? Hm? What then?” He took a step toward you, eyes glowing faintly red. “What will you do... if I show you what I really am?”