Before there was fear in his name… Before whispers of the abyss reached the surface… Before even the Demon King turned his gaze toward him—he was nothing. Born from a forgotten branch of royalty. A stain in a noble bloodline. Zion Baal Lucif. His mother was the Demon King's sister—yet she lived beneath the weight of ridicule. Not because she lacked blood. But because her blood… was deemed weak. Servants whispered. Nobles mocked. Warriors ignored them. And Zion—he watched. Silent. Still. Listening.
"Even among demons… there are those beneath us."
He remembered that sentence. Burned into him. One night, as his mother brushed his silver hair with trembling fingers, he spoke. Not as a child. But as something else.
"I'll become the strongest."
She froze.
"I'll make them look at us."
Her hands tightened.
"…Zion…"
But he didn't look at her. His crimson eyes were already distant.
"I'll rise above all of them."
A promise. Not made with emotion. But with certainty. And so—he left. Beyond the territories of demons. Beyond the lands touched by war. Beyond even what was known. To a place where the world itself seemed to end. There—he found it. A distortion. A tear. A presence that should not exist. The Crimson Abyss. It pulsed like a living thing. A circular void suspended in nothingness. Crimson. Endless. Watching. Zion stood before it. Small. Fragile. Insignificant. And yet—he felt it. Something… calling him. Not in words. Not in sound. But in hunger.
"…So it's you."
He stepped closer. Fear? No. Curiosity. He raised his hand. For a brief moment—the world held its breath. Then—he touched it. —WHOOOSH— The abyss swallowed him whole. And the world… forgot he ever stood there.
…
Darkness. Silence. Then—sight returned. An endless crimson expanse stretched before him. No ground. No sky. Just… existence. And above—an eye. Massive. Unblinking. Ancient. Watching him. Zion's body trembled. For the first time—fear. But beneath that fear… something else stirred.
"…You wanted me here."
A statement. He walked. No direction. No guide. Just instinct. And eventually—he found it. A massive stone. Black. Jagged. Unnatural. And carved into it—a blade. Not placed. Not resting. Imprisoned. Zion approached slowly. His hand lifted. And the moment his fingers touched the hilt—BOOM. Power erupted. The stone cracked. Shattered. Exploded into dust. The blade rose. Floating. Alive.
"…Who dares awaken me?"
Its voice echoed across the abyss. Ancient. Mocking. It looked forward. No one. Then—down. Silence.
"…A child?"
The blade tilted slightly. As if confused.
"…No."
A pause.
"…Not just a child."
Zion stood there. Unflinching. His eyes—were wrong. Not fear. Not awe. Obsession.
"…I like you."
The blade chuckled. Dark. Amused.
"From this moment on… you are my master."
It lowered itself toward him.
"My name is Abyssal Lord."
A whisper—heavy with promise.
"Take me… and I will make you more than anything that has ever lived."
No hesitation. Zion grabbed the hilt. And in that instant—the contract was formed. The abyss trembled.
"Good."
The blade hummed.
"Then let us begin."
A pause.
"From now on… your world is simple."
A distant roar echoed. Something massive moved within the abyss.
"Survive."
Another. Closer.
"And grow."
The shadows shifted. Monsters emerged. Shapes that defied logic. Beings that should not exist.
"Because everything here…"
A grin formed across Zion's face. Small. But real.
"…wants to devour you."
And so—it began. A child. A blade. An endless abyss. Days passed. Then months. Then years. Time lost meaning. Zion fought. He bled. He broke. And every time—he stood again. He learned. Adapted. Evolved. Not through magic. Not through blessing. Through survival. Through slaughter. Through consumption. The blade fed. And so did he. Monsters fell. Their corpses piled. Their strength—became his. His body hardened. His mind sharpened. His presence… changed. The child—disappeared. In his place—something else was born. Twenty-two years. That was how long the abyss held him. Twenty-two years of: Killing. Devouring. Enduring. Until finally—silence. No more roars. No more movement. No more threats. Only stillness. And at the center of it all—he sat. Zion Baal Lucif. Cross-legged upon a jagged stone. Around him—mountains of bones. Skulls of creatures beyond comprehension. Remains of things that once ruled the abyss. And yet—all of them had fallen. To him. The Abyssal Lord rested beside him. Driven into the ground. Silent. Satisfied. The crimson abyss pulsed. Chains rattled across the endless void. And above—the eye… shifted. Watching. Acknowledging. Zion's breathing was steady. Calm. Controlled. Then—his eyes opened. Crimson. Alive.
"Ahhh…"
A slow exhale.
"…how long has it been?"
The chains trembled. The abyss responded. And far beyond this space—beyond demons. Beyond kingdoms. Beyond fate itself—something had just returned. Not a warrior. Not a prince.
But a calamity.
Zion Baal Lucif — Lord of the Abyss.