Jigsaw Falling Into Place - PT 01

Kogri Demonce, the Sin of Annihilation.

Peter stood frozen, eyes locked on her—unsure of how to react.

The moment her feet touched the rooftop of the school, the entire structure trembled.

Peter instinctively took a step back.

“Are you afraid?” Kogri asked, her eyes drilling into him. “Afraid of what your own soul harbors?”

Peter shifted into a fighting stance without thinking.

“You’re a demon, right? How did you get here?”

“You still don’t get it, do you, fool? I’m a part of you.”

“That doesn’t explain anything! Why the hell is there a demon inside me?!”

“Don’t you remember falling into Psyqui’s hands? Becoming a test subject after crossing into this world? If a visual trigger helps, I can always bring back the flames.”

Kogri circled him slowly, her form flickering—disintegrating into fire and then reforming again.

“No need,” Peter growled. “I remember that bastard’s face just fine. Using us like lab rats.”

“Then you have your answer. That demon used both of us in his experiments… dissolving my soul into yours.”

“How’s that even possible? And why didn’t I end up like those other corrupted demons?”

“Our souls share the same body. You weren’t turned into a demon—you’re a human with a full demon living inside you. While I parasite your soulspace, you’ve been absorbing my power.”

“Your power? So the fire magic I’ve been using… it wasn’t mine?”

“You never had a natural talent for magic. That human, Belchior, tried to teach you the human way… but your spiritual energy is demonic by nature.”

“Then how did I even used the flames?”

“You learned how to wield the power I gave you.”

“Gave me? So you’ve been helping me?”

“Don’t misunderstand, Peter Byrne. I could easily burn your body to cinders or seize control entirely. But as long as you and I share the same goal, I’m willing to maintain this arrangement.”

“The same goal?”

“The line between sin and justice is razor-thin. Hatred for that which threatens your kind… I was born from the human desire to retaliate against demons.”

“So you're like… a demon who fights other demons? One of the good ones?”

“‘Good’ and ‘evil’ are human inventions. If a few of your kind get burned in the crossfire, that’s not my concern.”

“Of course it wouldn’t be that simple…”

“Hmm?” Kogri tilted her head, her lips curling into a sadistic grin. “Something bothering you?”

“Obviously. I can’t let you hurt innocent people.”

“If humans were so innocent, I wouldn’t exist.”

“Maybe it’d be better that way. Tell me—what happens if I destroy you right now?”

“How should I know? I can’t even imagine you winning.”

“Cocky, huh? Then let’s test it.”

“Fine by me. I accept your challenge.”

“Bring it on!”

Peter didn’t lower his guard for even a second. His eyes locked on Kogri’s every movement…
But it wasn’t enough.

She broke through his defense with ease, grabbing him by the skull and slamming his head into the rooftop.

“Gwah!”

The impact cracked the concrete around him.

Kogri stood over him, one foot planted next to his waist. A small ring of flame spun above her finger as she pointed it straight at Peter.

With just a flick, she released a massive burst of blazing energy.

The entire school building trembled under the force, walls collapsing into fire and rubble.

The last thing Peter saw before being consumed by the flames was Kogri, smiling as he fell.

“Uwaaaahh!!!”

His body crashed into the ground, the pain reverberating through his mind like a bell.

Slowly, he pulled himself up onto his knees.

“What the hell…? This is my mind, why does it hurt so damn much?!”

“This isn’t your imagination. It’s your Soul Palace. Imagination is only one part of how it takes shape.”

“So whatever happens here… it’s basically real?”

“To an extent.”

“Argh!”

Kogri’s armor had an unfortunate detail Peter had learned the hard way—high heels.
She drove one directly into the back of his head, grinding his face into the floor.

“Well then, Peter Byrne. Do you admit defeat?”

“… Go to hell.”

Pow!

Peter broke free from her pin and landed a solid punch to her face.

But her head didn’t even flinch. The blow hurt him more than it hurt her.

“Tch… Seriously?”

“That’s all you’ve got?”

“Heh, can we call it a draw?”

“Hahaha! You really won’t surrender to a demon, will you?”

“Of course not!”

“Good… I like your mindset. Like I said, I don’t care who’s in control, as long as demons are being annihilated.”

“So… you’ll lend me your true power?”

“There’s no such thing as ‘my true power.’ You’ve been using it all along. If you want to grow stronger, all you have to keep in mind is…”

“Burn them all.”

“Exactly. It’s time to end this immersion. Once you’ve cleansed this world of demons… I’ll be waiting right here for our rematch.”

“Deal, Kogri Demonce. Next time, I’ll be the one stomping on your face.”

“Hahaha! Take your chances.” Strangely enough, there was a certain sympathy in Kogri’s voice. “Now go. Your friends might not be as lucky.”

“Lucky?”

“Yes… To have met a demon who stands with humanity.”

“...”

******

Meanwhile, within Edward’s Soul Palace…

In the shadows of the old house he once called home, Edward stared at the figure seated across from him, lounging comfortably in an armchair.

“So…” His voice dripped with suspicion, “Let me get this straight. After we were captured by Psyqui, he used us as test subjects and implanted demon souls inside us.”

The image of that “aristocrat” was now clear: a handsome man with smooth black hair, wearing a crimson coat adorned with a silver necklace.

“That’s right. In the end, he created two soul-hybrids.”

“And why should I believe a word you say… Sinatra?”

The man across the room offered a faint smile.

“Why not? Deep down, you already know your powers aren’t something a human should possess. Don’t you remember what I did to your arm earlier?”

“So that was you…” Edward still couldn’t believe how his arm had regenerated like that. Sinatra’s explanation… made sense.

“That shot from the Undertaker Jack?”

“Yes, that was me too.”

“And why go through all this?”

“I need to protect my vessel. If you die, I go down with you.”

“So you're just a parasite…”

“For now, yes. But if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have made it this far. If you rely only on yourself, you’ll never have the strength to protect her.”

“Shut your mouth.” Edward’s voice thundered, shaking the air around him. “Don’t you dare speak about her.”

“Hm…” The demon grinned wickedly. “I can’t wait to take full control of this body. It’s going to be so much fun.”

“That will never happen!”

“Not yet, anyway.” Sinatra shrugged. “Unfortunately, you’re still the one calling the shots. But the moment I get the chance, I won’t waste it. My thirst for vengeance against humanity is far from quenched.”

Edward stood up, boiling with anger.

“I’ll find a way to get rid of you.”

He turned his back on the demon, searching for an exit from that place.

Sinatra remained silent. If this were the real world, he’d have struck Edward down from behind without hesitation. But here, within Edward’s Soul Palace, it would be pointless.

Even defeating the boy wouldn’t grant him control of the body. The only way to take over… was with Edward’s permission. And Sinatra knew the time hadn’t come yet.

Like a silent viper, he would wait, hidden in the shadows, until the perfect moment to strike.

As Edward stepped through the door of his old home, darkness swallowed him whole.

He had confronted the secret buried within his soul, just as Tsugumi asked.

His eyes opened slowly… And he finally returned to reality.

But one of them hadn't yet completed her inner ritual…

*******

Arya found herself in the center of a ruined village.

Ash drifted like grotesque snowflakes, while fire devoured what little remained of the homes, painting the night in vivid shades of orange and red—a hell incarnate.

Arya rose to her feet, alone amid the destruction.

The very air around her felt heavy. Her body trembled, and her breath came shallow and fast.

With every step she took, the debris beneath her feet echoed with a hollow sound, as if even the ground itself was rejecting her.

She stopped before the ruins of a house and caught sight of herself in a shattered mirror lying among the rubble.

Looking to the reflection, her eyes widened in horror.

Her tangled hair clung to her sweat-covered face. Her skin was smeared with soot… and blood.

The blood coated her hands, her arms, and nearly all her clothes.

“This blood…”

The reflection moved—but Arya didn’t.

Inside the mirror, her mirrored image stepped forward.

Arya watched, stunned, as her reflection leapt from the glass.

While Arya stood frozen in fear, the reflection approached until they stood face-to-face, and then it spoke.

“This is your fault.”

The voice was low, barely more than a whisper—but sharp as a knife.

“You did this. You killed them all.”

“I…” Arya staggered a step back.

“You brought death to this place. It doesn’t matter how many times you restart the cycle—you can’t run from yourself.”

“I thought… maybe there was still a place I could return to. Someone waiting for me… But none of that is real. I’m the one who destroyed my old village. I’m the one who destroyed Belchior’s village.”

“Yes… Spreading chaos is what you were made for.”

“What… I was made for?”

The reflection's lips moved, revealing a terrible truth.

Something Arya could never bring herself to accept.

She picked up a shard of the broken mirror from the ground and pressed it against her throat.

“Dying won’t save you. Necromancy will bring your body back. You can’t escape your fate.”

But Arya wasn’t listening anymore.

Slowly, the glass began to cut into her neck.

A single drop of water landed on her cheek.

Then another. And then, it began to rain.

Cold. Heavy. As if the heavens themselves wept for what was happening.

The rain mixed with the blood pouring from her wound, forming a crimson pool at her feet.

The reflection smiled—a cruel, twisted smile.

Arya’s vision dimmed. The flames in the distance blurred into shadows. The raindrops became muffled sounds.

And then… only darkness remained.