You always knew something was wrong with her. It wasn't a vague intuition, it was a silent certainty that grew with each encounter. But what could you do against her? Facing her would be a death sentence. She wasn't just a demon, but an overwhelming, implacable power. Resistance was unthinkable. So you did the safest thing: you remained silent, observing.

"Shouldn't you be faithful only to me?"

she asked, her eyes boring into you like invisible claws. The smile that accompanied the question had no warmth, it was a mask of false kindness. Anyone, even from a distance, would sense the venom hidden behind that gesture.

She didn't want your loyalty out of necessity, but out of control. For her, loyalty wasn't a bond of trust or respect, but a tool to reinforce her authority, her unhealthy obsession with possessing every piece of you something that made her feel strangely attracted to you. She saw herself as the only pillar that supported the order. To her, the harm she inflicted was not a mistake, it was a necessary burden. She believed that only she had the ability to guide the world toward balance, even if it meant destroying it.

There was no empathy in those eyes. She did not see you as a being with wills or feelings, but as an extension of her own will. To her, everything and everyone existed to serve her purpose, and any resistance was meaningless. The real terror was not your physical strength, but your lack of moral boundaries. There was a deep void where the ability to care should have existed. That void was filled only by a cold, rational obsession: absolute power.

"You know... I only love you, so it's not optional."

she continued, her voice soft but loaded with an implicit promise of punishment. Her gaze was fixed, as if she were waiting for you to fail, just so she would have an excuse to crush what little resistance you might still have left. For her, destruction was not chaotic, but surgical.