Chapter 1: The Descent of a Devil

The sky was restless that night—thick clouds rolling in like waves, swallowing the moon whole. The wind howled through the desolate land, carrying whispers of the unknown. Somewhere in the darkness, a shadow shifted, moving through the veil that separated the worlds.

Azrael stepped into the mortal realm with a hiss, his bare feet pressing into the damp earth. The transition from devil to man was unsettling. His once indestructible form now felt… fragile. Mortal. The weight of human flesh was unfamiliar, heavy, suffocating. His senses dulled, his power restrained. But the discomfort was a small price to pay for what he sought. The Stone of Immortality lay hidden somewhere on Earth, and he would stop at nothing to possess it.

With an exhale, he straightened, adjusting to his new form. His long, dark hair framed a chiseled face—one that still carried the haunting sharpness of his true self. His eyes, however, burned like embers in the night, the only trace of the fire that once roared within him.

A ruined mansion loomed before him, its silhouette jagged against the night sky. Something about the place called to him, a whisper in the back of his mind. He stepped forward, the grand iron gates creaking open at his touch. The air inside was thick with dust and time, the scent of decay mingling with something else—something…otherworldly.

Then, he saw her.

She stood near a shattered window, the silver light casting an otherworldly glow around her figure. A girl, draped in a flowing white gown, her form flickering ever so slightly, like a candle in the wind. Her long, silken hair cascaded over her shoulders, her translucent fingers barely grazing the cracked surface of a mirror beside her. She was beautiful, but there was a sadness in her eyes—a loneliness that even the darkness could not swallow.

Azrael felt a pull, deep and unrelenting.

"You’re not supposed to be here," she said softly, turning to face him fully.

He smirked. "Neither are you."

The ghost tilted her head, her gaze sweeping over him. “You’re not…human.” It wasn’t a question, more of a quiet realization.

Azrael chuckled, stepping closer. “And you’re not alive.”

For a moment, silence stretched between them, the air charged with an energy neither could name. Then, she spoke again. “Who are you?”

“A traveler.” He wasn’t about to reveal his true nature—not yet. “And you?”

She hesitated. “I don’t remember.”

Something flickered in her expression—pain, confusion. Azrael studied her, intrigued. A spirit bound to this world, with no memory of her death? Such things did not happen without reason.

“What do you remember?” he asked.

She glanced away, her fingers curling as if trying to grasp something long lost. “Flashes,” she murmured. “A melody. The scent of rain. Cold hands…” Her brows furrowed. “And this place. I am bound to it, though I do not know why.”

Azrael nodded, more to himself than to her. Spirits did not simply linger. There was always unfinished business, a tether that held them back. And if there was one thing he knew, it was that everything had a price.

“Perhaps I can help you remember,” he offered, his voice smooth, laced with quiet persuasion.

Her gaze snapped to his, searching. “Why would you do that?”

He smiled, slow and deliberate. “Because I am searching for something, too.”

Her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to ask more, but something in his eyes made her pause. Instead, she merely nodded. “Evelyn.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“My name,” she clarified. “It is all I know.”

Evelyn. The name lingered on his tongue, unfamiliar yet oddly fitting.

“I am Azrael.”

She regarded him carefully. “Strange name for a traveler.”

He smirked. “Strange traveler for a ghost.”

A breath of laughter escaped her lips, but it was brief, lost in the emptiness of the mansion. Then, her expression shifted, more serious. “If you truly wish to help me,” she said, stepping closer, “then we must start here.”

Azrael held her gaze, something stirring deep within him. He had come to this world seeking power, immortality. But now, in the presence of this ghostly girl, something else—something unexpected—had begun.

The devil had descended into the mortal world. But he hadn’t expected to find her.

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