Some time later, at the altar.
Everything was quiet.
There were no explosions, no clashing weapons, no trace of any looming danger.
Only one figure remained — the "King," unconscious, tightly bound by magical chains to a chair.
Then, his body stirred.
Slowly, the sound of his breathing echoed through the silence.
His eyes opened.
"Where is this…" His voice rang out, oddly weak.
Lifting his head, he glanced around.
"This is… the altar," he muttered.
He tried to move, but it was hopeless. His body was completely restrained.
"These chains are…" He shook them, but they didn't budge.
"..."
"I have to get out of here... Lust… her… my family… I have to save them…"
He thrashed harder, trying to channel magic through the chains — all in vain.
"Chaos… Order… why can't I connect with them?"
"Stop trying."
A voice echoed. Familiar. Unforgettable.
He looked up. Lust was approaching.
But she looked different — eerily familiar, yet unsettlingly strange.
"You… impossible…" he whispered, teeth clenched, tears falling.
His face contorted in despair.
"You don't think it's beautiful?" Lust smiled, bright and twisted.
Tears welled up in his eyes.
"Bastard!" he shouted, yanking against the chains.
The more his emotions flared, the closer Lust crept, delighting in his pain.
"What's wrong? Don't you think I'm beautiful?" Her smile twisted further. "Come closer… take a good look."
"Get away!" he yelled, voice choked with fear and rage.
The chains rattled violently. The chair began to tip.
It toppled, slamming him backward to the ground.
"Oh… what a naughty boy," Lust cooed, standing over him.
She kicked the chair's legs, flipping them upright again, then grabbed his shoulders.
"Here… look closely." She leaned in.
He clenched his eyes shut.
"This is a dream… just a dream… I'll wake up," he muttered, trembling.
"So boring." Lust sighed.
She withdrew her hand and stepped back.
Then, slowly, she placed her fingers on her bloodstained chest.
Without hesitation, she drove her hand deep into her chest —then slowly peeled back her skin, revealing a second, layer beneath.
From behind her hips, tails slowly emerged.
"This is really bad. You were supposed to like this look…" She glanced down at him, who was now trembling violently.
A twisted smile curved across her lips.
She peeled off the rest of her skin and held it up, admiring it.
"It's pretty… too bad the 'King' doesn't like it."
She tossed the skin aside.
"I can't believe it," she purred, approaching once more. "How could you criticize your own wife's beauty?"
"Well… at least enjoy the fun."
With a snap of her fingers, the "King's" eyes shot open.
"You…"
He tried to close them but couldn't. His body resisted his will.
Lust reached out, gently tilting his chin upward.
"Now take a good look at the gift I've brought you." Her smile was calm, almost sweet.
She stepped back. A table appeared before him — on it, an ornate gift box.
But blood slowly trickled from its base, pooling beneath the table, creeping toward his feet.
"This… it feels familiar," he whispered, voice trembling.
"You recognize it?" Lust tilted her head. "But I don't recall showing you this before. Oh well."
"Still, before gifts… comes dinner."
She reached behind her and revealed a tray, covered and steaming.
Gently, she placed it on the table.
"Prepared by the most experienced chef… me."
She lifted the lid.
A wave of steam spilled out, along with a rich, fragrant aroma.
Inside: a dish of exquisitely arranged meat, glistening with a perfectly thick sauce.
"Now, enjoy."
Suddenly, the chains loosened — but only to slither down to his arms, coiling around his hands and fingers.
They lifted his hands.
"Stop… stop…" he struggled, powerless.
His fingers reached the utensils — a knife and fork.
They picked them up.
His hands moved on their own, slicing the meat, lifting it.
The scent flooded his senses.
"Stop…" he wept.
But the hands didn't listen. They brought the meat to his lips.
His mouth opened.
He chewed.
Swallowed.
"Stop…"
But it wasn't over.
Again, and again — slice, lift, chew, swallow.
He "enjoyed" every bite as tears streamed down his face.
At last, the plate was empty.
His face was smeared with sauce and tears.
"That's great! I didn't expect you to eat it all," Lust beamed. "Want more? I can make more. But you'll have to wait."
"No…" he murmured, voice trembling.
"What was that?"
"I… don't want more… I… don't—"
His voice cracked.
"Oh…"
"Well then… time for the gift."
She shoved the box toward him, knocking the utensils aside. Blood splashed across his face.
"Oops. A bit too rough. Now open it," she said gleefully.
But his hands froze.
He was resisting.
He wouldn't open it.
He knew what was inside. He couldn't face it.
"Come on… open it," she coaxed.
He held firm.
"You're taking too long…"
She frowned.
"If you won't open it, I'll have someone else do it."
She waved her arm, and a mist appeared beside her.
From within stepped a little girl — lifeless eyes, slow steps.
The "King" gasped.
"Impossible…"
"Surprised?" Lust smirked. "Didn't think I'd keep her around, did you?"
She leaned close and whispered to the girl.
The girl walked to the box.
"Don't… don't do that!" the "King" screamed.
She reached for it.
"Stop!" he shouted, voice filled with agony.
Lust stood back and watched, but her smile faded. A deep sadness shadowed her face.
"It's time…" she whispered.
The "King's" body convulsed. Cracks formed across his skin, blood seeping from every crevice.
With one final surge, he shattered the chains.
He leapt to his feet and shoved the girl aside. She collided with the table, the gift box flying from her hands.
It hit the ground — popped open.
Inside spilled the severed heads of his family, soaked in blood.
The "King" didn't stop.
Like a beast, he lunged at Lust.
But Lust simply stood there, arms outstretched as if inviting him into an embrace.
He tackled her, pinning her to the ground.
"Now then… enjoy your meal." Lust whispered. "And—"
He didn't hear the rest.
Madness overtook him.
He drove his hand into her chest, tearing her apart.
He devoured her.
Flesh, blood, bone — piece by piece.
Still not enough.
Still hungry.
Still furious.
Blood splashed across the altar. Across his face.
Tears streamed down his face as he continued.
Was it agony—or ecstasy?
No one could tell.
The sound of tearing echoed in the hollow chamber.
Then… silence.
He looked up.
Drenched in blood.
He stared at the pool of crimson where Lust had been.
And then — a scream.
The little girl was awake. She trembled in the corner beside the gift box.
The "King" rose and approached.
"Get away…" she cried.
But he kept walking.
"It's okay… everything will be fine… I promise," he murmured.
Then, his body gave out. He collapsed in the pool of blood.
The girl panicked, frozen in fear.
From the shadows behind him, Solomon appeared.
"The act is over. Now it's time for you to decide your own fate."
With that, Solomon vanished.
Only two remained on the bloodstained altar.
No one knows where their fate will lead.
But one thing is certain — after the "King's" final choice, the fate of this world will never be the same.