Daki leaned back coldly on the couch, legs still crossed as Eun Jun nervously fidgeted in front of her.
"So... what is it you wanted to show me?" she said with a mocking smirk, eyes half-lidded.
Eun Jun scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "You seem to be home alone. I see many reasons why you wanted to kill yourself."
Daki raised a brow. Daki replied "What does me being alone have to do with wanting to die? You humans are weird."
"I don't care about humans," she continued, "but haven't you realized why I saved you?"
Eun Jun blinked. "No, I don't think so."
Daki looked away for a moment, expression unreadable.
Daki's thoughts: Why did I even save this stinking human? Was it curiosity? Pity? No... I felt something up there on that building. A strange energy. That wasn't normal... but all I found was him.
Eun Jun interrupted her thoughts as he pulled a box from under the couch and placed it on the table. He opened it, revealing a carefully wrapped scroll-like paper.
He unrolled it slowly in front of her.
Daki glanced at it with disinterest at first, but the moment her eyes fell on the image printed on the scroll—she froze.
Her pupils narrowed.
It was a black-bladed sword, wreathed in a faint aura of fire—an ancient, cursed weapon that only high-ranking demons of hell would recognize.
She stood slowly, eyes burning blue.
"Where did you see this?" she demanded sharply.
Eun Jun stepped back a little, startled by the shift in her energy. "I... I don't know. I've always had dreams. The same one, over and over again. This sword... it's always there. Surrounded by fire. Sometimes I see a man with horns holding it. Other times, I'm the one holding it."
Daki stared at him, truly stunned for the first time since entering the human world.
"Dreams?" she whispered.
"You're not even a demon… and yet you see this?"
She circled him like a predator circling prey, her mind racing.
Daki's thoughts:
This boy… this useless human… how does he know about the Sword of Ardrah? Even in hell, only the seven kings know its full power. If he dreams of it… that means the sword still exists. And if it exists… I must find it before the fallen angel does. This might be my chance.
She stopped in front of Eun Jun, face inches from his.
"You're going to tell me everything you've seen. Every dream. Every detail. You hear me, human?"
Eun Jun swallowed hard but gave a shaky nod.
Daki slowly smiled.
"You might just be more useful than I thought."
Eun Jun's eyes lit up, wide and shining like a child offered a dream he'd long buried.
"You... you want me to tell you everything?" he asked, almost stammering. "You really mean it? I should tell you everything?"
Daki crossed her arms with a bored expression. "I'm not asking you," she said firmly. "I'm commanding you. Tell me everything you know. Every dream, every vision. Everything you've seen."
But to her surprise, Eun Jun didn't flinch or hesitate.
He looked almost… overjoyed.
Eun Jun's thoughts ran wild:
All my life… I hid myself from the world. Because I'm different. Because no one ever understood me.
People called me weird. Broken. I tried to act normal, tried to force myself into conversations that never welcomed me. In school, I was invisible—or worse, a joke. They didn't touch me directly. Not because they respected me… but because they knew who my father was.
My father… a man too busy chasing money, deals, and power to ever look me in the eye. He lost my mother and never recovered. I was six when she died. Since then, he's been nothing but a stranger with my last name. The only time I see him is through the bank alerts on my phone—money he throws at me like I'm a broken vending machine he doesn't know how to fix.
My aunt offered to care for me, and he agreed without thinking. She moved into our home with her two sons—one a year older, the other my age. They were my first bullies. Smiling devils. At school, they wore a mask. But at home, they made me feel like I didn't belong in my own house.
I couldn't breathe there. So I left. Rented a small apartment. My father didn't even ask why. He kept sending the money. Money I never needed. It piled up in my account like dirty laundry I didn't care to wash.
I never wanted wealth. I just wanted someone… anyone… to understand me.
And now… a demon. An actual demon, wants to listen. Not because she pities me—but because she needs what's in my head. For once, I'm not invisible. I'm not crazy. I matter.
A small smile crept onto Eun Jun's face, soft and bittersweet.
Daki stared at him, her blue eyes narrowing. "Why are you smiling like that?" she asked, puzzled. "Are you humans always this strange?"
He snapped out of his thoughts, eyes wide. "Oh—nothing. Just…"
He stood straighter, more confident than she'd seen before.
"I'll tell you everything."
He grabbed the scroll again and laid it flat, pointing to a part near the hilt of the sword.
"In my dreams, this part glows. Always. Like it's calling out to me. Sometimes I can hear voices—deep, echoing voices. It feels like someone's whispering my name from inside the blade."
Daki knelt beside the scroll, examining it with furrowed brows.
"The Sword of Ardrah doesn't just whisper," she muttered. "It remembers every soul it has killed. If it's calling you, even in a dream… then something has awakened."
Eun Jun blinked. "Is that bad?"
Daki stood up slowly. "For you? Yes. For me?"
She smirked. "It's perfect."
"But why me?" he asked. "I'm not a demon. I don't have powers. I can't fight."
"You see things others can't," Daki said, walking toward the window. "Even I, a demon, can't see the sword's location—but you've dreamed it. That means the sword wants you."
Eun Jun frowned. "But I didn't ask for that…"
Daki turned around, her wings slowly unfolding behind her in a flicker of demonic energy. "No one ever asks for destiny, human. It just finds you."
She paused. "Be ready. You've just become more than a lonely boy with strange dreams. You've become my key."
Eun Jun's heart raced. "Your… key?"
Daki grinned. "We're going to find that sword together. And if anyone gets in our way—"
She extended a single finger, igniting it with a soft blue flame.
"—they burn."