Prologue: The Birth of a Demon

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Rimuru's consciousness stirred, but something felt... wrong. There was an overwhelming heat around him, a stench of sulfur and ash. He blinked, trying to focus as his vision adjusted to the chaotic landscape. The ground beneath him was a jagged, dark-red rock, molten rivers of lava flowed around him, and the sky was a dark, oppressive void.

"Where... am I?" he muttered, his voice hoarse.

His memories were a haze. He remembered the battle, Feldway, Michael, the Armageddon... and then something had gone wrong. Ciel had tried to bring him back from the end of space and time, but instead, he had been sent... here. Wherever here was.

Suddenly, he felt it. A pulse within him, stronger than ever. It wasn't just his own energy—it was Ultima's, the primordial violet demon whose body he now shared. The fusion of their souls had twisted him in ways he hadn't expected. The part of him that once held peace and logic was overshadowed by something darker, more primal. A violent hunger stirred deep inside him, one that wanted nothing more than to fight, to destroy, to dominate.

He stood up, surveying the hellish landscape, and it dawned on him.

"This is... the Inferno," he whispered. The realm of endless suffering, where demons reigned supreme. The very heart of chaos.

Yet, despite the desolation, there was no urge to destroy Tempest or his friends. Those feelings of loyalty and camaraderie still lingered somewhere within him. But they were buried beneath an overwhelming need—a need for battle, for combat that pushed him to the brink. His mind had shifted, warped by the mingling of his soul with Ultima's. Now, a twisted delight in fighting and torturing his enemies for sport echoed within him.

"I don't want to destroy Tempest," he murmured, almost as if reassuring himself. "But... this hunger... it's unbearable."

He flexed his fingers, feeling the immense power surging through him. The infernal energy of the realm only amplified it. It was like a storm within him, a craving for chaos. He clenched his fists, trying to suppress it, but the urge was too strong.

"So much power," he mused, his violet eyes glowing with a dangerous intensity. "And nothing to fight."

But that wouldn't last long. Demons, sensing the presence of a newcomer, emerged from the shadows. Dark, twisted beings of varying sizes—some resembling horrific beasts, others humanoid, but all radiating malice. They circled him, growling, preparing to strike.

A wicked smile spread across Rimuru's face, something alien to his old self but now all too familiar.

"Finally," he whispered, his voice laced with anticipation. "A fight."

Before the demons could react, Rimuru moved. His body was a blur, slicing through the air with terrifying speed. He tore through the nearest demon, its body disintegrating into ash before it could even scream. Another charged at him, but Rimuru caught it by the throat, lifting it off the ground effortlessly.

The demon's eyes widened in terror as Rimuru grinned, tightening his grip just enough to let the creature suffer. He could feel its fear, its desperation to escape, and he relished it. His eyes glinted with a sadistic thrill as he slammed the demon into the ground, crushing its skull with a single stomp.

"Too easy," he muttered, disappointed by their weakness.

The rest of the demons hesitated, realizing they stood no chance. But that only made Rimuru more excited.

"Come on," he taunted, his voice dripping with malice. "Is this all the Inferno has to offer? I was hoping for something more... fun."

Ultima's influence had taken root deep within him. Her joy in inflicting pain, in dominating her enemies, had merged with Rimuru's own tactical mind. The result was a being who still held the knowledge and strategy of a great leader but had developed a twisted pleasure in battle and suffering.

One by one, the demons fell, each kill more brutal than the last. Rimuru's laughter echoed through the hellish landscape, the sound both terrifying and manic. He didn't just want to win; he wanted to savor the fight, to prolong the suffering of his enemies.

After what felt like hours, the last of the demons lay in a broken heap at his feet. Rimuru stood over their corpses, his chest heaving with exhilaration, not exhaustion. The fight had only fueled his hunger for more. He wanted stronger opponents, fiercer battles, something that could push him to his limits.

As the infernal winds howled around him, Ciel's voice suddenly echoed in his mind, faint but still present.

"Master... you must regain control. This isn't the path you wanted."

Rimuru paused, momentarily shaken. For a brief second, the old Rimuru flickered beneath the surface, struggling to regain his sense of self. He had been sent here by mistake. This wasn't where he belonged.

But the voice of Ultima, her soul entwined with his, laughed darkly within him.

"Control? Why would we want that?" she purred. "This is freedom, Rimuru. This is what you've always denied yourself. The joy of battle, of power... don't fight it. Embrace it."

His grip on reality faltered again, and that insatiable hunger for combat roared back to life. He clenched his fists, feeling the raw energy of the Inferno flowing through him, and a cold smile crept across his lips.

"Ciel... maybe Ultima's right," he whispered. "Maybe this is what I need."

His mind had changed, irrevocably. While he still cared about Tempest, his friends, and the world he had built, the calm, calculating Rimuru was gone. Now, all that remained was a being driven by an overwhelming thirst for battle, a twisted blend of his former self and the demon whose body he now inhabited.

And in this hellish landscape, there was only one thing that could satisfy that craving.

"If no one strong enough is going to face me," he said, eyes gleaming, "then I'll find them myself."

With that, Rimuru—no, the new entity—set off through the infernal plains, a dangerous glint in his eyes. He wasn't seeking destruction for its own sake. No, his goal was much darker now: to find the ultimate battle, the ultimate challenge, and to savor every moment of the carnage.

A new demon was born in the heart of the Inferno, and the realms would tremble in his wake.

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