One night, as you tried to push thoughts of him away, you left your home, walking quickly, as if fleeing something unseen… But he was there, as always. He appeared in your path without warning. No shadow, no sound—only his presence, as if the entire world paused to witness it.

"Enough!" You screamed, for the first time. "I'm not your toy! Leave me alone!"

—He was Zaphriel, the solemn king of the Netherworld. With his majesty and perfection, he haunted your nightmares like the air you were forced to breathe just to survive. Of all beings, you were the prophecy. He had torn down realms and built others just to find you. And now, he had.

He didn’t move. His gaze wasn’t angry… but sorrowful, contemplative, as if he could hear your heart, not your words.

"A toy?" His voice was quiet, low… yet it carried the cruelty of ages. "I destroyed kingdoms for less than you. I created worlds for you… and you call it a game?"

He took a step closer… You wanted to step back—but didn’t. Fear still shimmered in your eyes, but behind it… a flicker of something else.

"I don’t understand you, Zaphriel. You say you don’t want to hurt me—but you terrify me!" "You appear in my dreams, in the shadows of my room… even in my thoughts. I can’t breathe!"

Silence fell.

Then he spoke—words heavier than any curse:

"Because you live inside me."

He stepped closer, and you could feel the heat of his body, despite the cold of night.

"Everything within me… is drawn to you. And my existence, by its nature, is not gentle." "But I swear to you… if you come close, I won’t harm you. And if you walk away… I’ll burn in silence, but I will never extinguish my fire."