Power and control…
They have always been the true sources of human progress and desire.
Yet the moment someone openly pursues them, society brands that person a psychopath, a narcissist, a sociopath, manipulative, or some other unpleasant label.
From childhood we are taught to be sheep.
Everyone around us only cares that we follow their lead, that we fit neatly into the boxes they've prepared for us.
No one wants us to stand at the forefront of human progress. No one wants us to improve society as a whole.
They want us to be quiet. To be manageable. To be good little sheep who never cause trouble.
I once believed that once I became an adult I would finally be free to do whatever I wanted and change this rotten system from the ground up.
But when I saw that the people at the top only cared about protecting their own positions, rewarding mediocrity and obedience instead of real progress, I realized how naïve that hope had been.
Even a kindergarten, a place that was supposed to educate children and help them become excellent members of society turned out to be just as corrupted.
Parents paid high fees hoping their children would be properly taught.
When I went there looking for a job as a kindergarten teacher and sat through the interview, my remaining hope was crushed by their cowardice and selfishness.
They cared more about protecting their own reputation than about actually educating the children or justifying the money parents spent.
They told me the school emphasized empathy, social skills like sharing and cooperation, supporting children through big emotions, and using "positive guidance" instead of rewards or real consequences.
When I spoke honestly, they twisted my words and called my philosophy manipulation rather than guidance.
What complete trash.
All of them.
Is this what passes for a prestigious kindergarten in our society? A place that coddles bullies and punishes those who would protect the vulnerable?
When they asked me how I would handle a situation where two children were bullying another child and physically hurting him, I gave them an honest answer.
I told them that we shouldn't support bullies under any circumstances.
We shouldn't force the victim to forgive their tormentors or pretend that such toxic behavior is healthy or normal.
The victim shouldn't be pressured to make peace with those who hurt them.
Instead, the situation should be escalated immediately.
The bullies' parents should be notified. The headmaster should be involved. Real consequences should be imposed.
Not the hypocritical, empty comfort that offers nothing but pretty words while leaving the victim defenseless and the bullies emboldened.
That kind of empty, meaningless response only breeds resentment. It fosters a deep, gnawing sense of inferiority in the victim.
It turns children into pushovers, people who never learn to stand on their own feet, who never develop the toughness required to survive in this harsh world. Meanwhile, the bullies learn that there are no real punishments for their behavior, and so their cruelty continues and escalates, spreading like poison through the entire community.
But they didn't want to hear that.
They twisted my words. They called my approach dark and manipulative. They labeled me as someone who would corrupt their precious children rather than guide them.
They sat there in their comfortable chairs, judging me with their narrow minds, completely blind to their own hypocrisy and cowardice.
This society is corrupt. From the very top to the very bottom. All of it. Every institution. Every system. Every person who upholds the status quo and crushes anyone who dares to suggest something better.
So I gave up.
I stopped trying to change a world that didn't want to be changed.
I withdrew from society entirely and plunged myself into the digital world, where at least things made sense.
Where talent and effort were rewarded. Where honesty was valued.
I took my hard-earned degree, the symbol of all those years of wasted effort and crushed dreams and I shredded it to pieces with my own hands.
Then I burned the pieces and watched the flames consume them.
Goodbye, society.
Do you truly think you're so great? Do you think I need you?
The digital world offered me far more money, far more freedom, and far more genuine honesty than the real world ever did.
Fuck you and your fake institutions.
Fuck your hypocritical kindness.
Fuck your cowardly, corrupt systems.
Thus, that was how I began my new life.
I became a game developer, an influencer, an artist, a writer, and a gamer.
I built my empire in the digital realm, far away from the fake, backstabbing people of the physical world.
I stayed there until my dying day, never once regretting my decision to abandon a society that had abandoned me first.
And then I woke up.
I was surrounded by impossibly handsome men and devastatingly beautiful women.
They were kneeling before me in perfect, reverent silence, their heads bowed, their bodies arranged in neat rows like subjects awaiting the command of their sovereign.
And I...
I was sitting on a grand, ornate throne, looking down at them all from an elevated position of absolute authority.
What the fuck is this?
Did I die and go straight to hell… only to become the final boss?
I mused...
"Lady Asmodeus, what should we do? The rebels are already closing in on the Capital. Lord Rizevim has fled, we don't know where he is. The other two Satans have already been killed by the Gremory and Sitri forces, and Grayfia has surrendered. We are completely alone against them now."
I furrowed my brows.
So I wasn't the final boss after all… just a defeated mid-boss or whatever this role was supposed to be?
Asmodeus?
That name sounded familiar.
Especially when paired with Gremory and Sitri…
Did I transmigrate into the world of High School DxD?
The anime with the oppai-obsessed protagonist and the devil society and the chess-themed peerage system?
Then the memories hit me all at once.
I winced as millennia of experiences violently flooded into my mind. Pain lanced through my skull as the full weight of another life settled into place.
My name was Makima Asmodeus, one of the Four Great Satans, and the one who was supposed to be defeated by Sirzechs and his faction.
According to the memories now in my head, I only stood at the regular Satan-class level.
Meanwhile, Sirzechs's side had two Super Devils.
Sirzechs himself and Ajuka Beelzebub, along with Serafall Leviathan, who had effortlessly wiped out the previous Leviathan (also Satan-class), and Grayfia Lucifuge, who was supposed to be one of our strongest assets… yet she had already surrendered to Sirzechs.
The situation was nothing short of catastrophic.
I was essentially alone now, abandoned by my allies, left with nothing but a collection of ragtag remnants: low-level soldiers, broken officers, and terrified servants who would be wiped out the moment the real fighting continued.
My army was shattered. My fellow Satans were dead or missing. My enemies were supernaturally powerful and united against me.
Oh no…
This is very, very bad.
Still, they weren't completely useless.
There were things that could still be done with them.
My power thrived on terror and genuine fear.
Anyone who truly feared me, who was terrorized by my existence, could be easily commanded and controlled by my will.
I could take their power at any time and return it whenever it suited me. No matter how strong they were or how high their rank, as long as they genuinely submitted to me, accepting me as their God, the sole source of their existence, their life, their worth, and their soul, they became mine to control.
That was the power of Makima Asmodeus.
I looked around at the remaining subordinates gathered before me and frowned.
The fear was still present… but the absolute control was already beginning to slip.
They were afraid of me, yes.
But they were more afraid of the enemy at the gates.
They were starting to doubt. Starting to waver. Starting to wonder if surrender might be the safer option.
If I surrendered now and chose comfort over power, no one would genuinely fear me anymore.
I stood up from my throne and spoke in a deep, calm voice.
"How many of us can still fight? And more importantly, what is the overall sentiment of the citizens in the Capital? I am not asking about our remaining soldiers. I want to know about the ordinary devil living in this city."
The subordinates looked visibly taken aback by the unexpected question.
They exchanged uncertain, confused glances with one another, clearly having anticipated a discussion about troop numbers and defensive positions rather than public opinion.
Finally, one of them, a mid-ranking officer whose name I couldn't immediately recall stepped forward and answered with careful hesitation.
"Uhm… Lady Asmodeus, I believe most of them would prefer to surrender and open the gates for Sirzechs. None of them have the will to keep fighting for our cause. They think we are already too weak, and that our stance is too radical. They are tired of the war that keeps killing us. They just want peace."
Well… that's bad.
Surrender was clearly not an option. For someone with Makima's specific power, choosing the path of mediocrity and submission would be fatal.
I smiled at their bleak assessment and gave them a slow, wicked glance that made several of them instinctively step backward.
"Since they are unwilling to fight for our cause… we will burn them all."
The room fell into a stunned, horrified silence.
Several of my remaining subordinates exchanged deeply troubled looks, their faces paling even further.
It was Lord Lucifuge, the head of the Lucifuge Clan, one of the few high-ranking nobles who had not yet abandoned me, who finally stepped forward to voice the objection that was clearly on everyone's mind.
His voice was carefully controlled, but the strain was evident beneath his diplomatic tone.
"Lady Asmodeus, this… this course of action is deeply inappropriate. They are still our own kind. Our own people. Responding to their desire for peace with mass slaughter will only further enrage Sirzechs and his allies. It will give them the moral justification they need to..."
I snorted coldly, cutting him off.
"Anger? Since when have we ever not angered them, Lord Lucifuge? This world is an angry place. Serafall was angry because the previous Leviathan constantly disrespected her. Sirzechs is angry because of our ideology and our radicalism."
"Everyone is angry at us. What they truly want is for us to become obedient, to listen to them, to submit our will to their anger, and to quietly disappear."
Lord Lucifuge still looked uncomfortable.
"But Lady Asmodeus… if we do this, they will never forgive us. They will hunt us to the ends of the Earth."
I simply smiled at his words, soft, almost gentle.
"I know you are very loyal to us, Lord Lucifuge, and that you only want what is best for our side. But you are mistaken about one thing."
I stepped down from the throne, my voice calm and measured.
"Anger is not weakness. Anger is power. It creates movement. It creates loyalty. It creates community."
I looked around at the remaining subordinates before continuing.
"Those people who are angry at us gathered under Sirzechs, and that directed anger is what is destroying us right now. Is Sirzechs powerful simply because he is a Super Devil?"
"No. He is powerful because he is angry. Before all of this began, no one truly knew how strong he was. He was just another Gremory devil living comfortably in his own world. But now his anger has burned us and everything we built. That is real power, Lord Lucifuge."
I paused, letting the words settle.
"They may resent us for burning the Capital today. But what about the future? When they eventually grow dissatisfied with Sirzechs's rule, they will look for somewhere to direct that new anger."
"And when that time comes, they will remember us. They will look back and say: At least Lady Asmodeus was willing to do something, unlike those doormats and peace-loving fools under Sirzechs."
"They will see us as the radicals, the monsters, the outcasts who were willing to fight for their cause and their anger, especially when they become dissatisfied with the new order."
"For now, let him take this place. Let them become content and comfortable. No rule is perfect. Eventually, that imperfection will breed anger once again."
Lord Lucifuge lowered his head and bowed deeply.
"I understand, my lady…"
He turned to leave, his posture straight and dignified.
The moment his back was exposed, the moment his guard was down and his defenses were nonexistent, a blade of pure demonic energy materialized in my hand and plunged straight through his spine, piercing his devilish heart.
The tip of the blade erupted from his chest in a spray of dark blood.
His eyes widened with pure, undisguised, absolute disbelief.
He staggered forward, clutching at the fatal wound, and turned his head just enough to look at me one final time.
"Why…?"
Around the throne room, every remaining subordinate immediately dropped to their knees and lowered their heads in abject terror, their bodies trembling, not a single one of them daring to look up or make a sound.
I stared down at the dying man without a trace of emotion on my face.
"There is no 'why,' Lord Lucifuge. I cannot control you. I do not feel your submission or your fear."
"You bowed, you spoke pretty words, but your heart was never truly mine. That means you have already betrayed us, perhaps not yet in action, but in your soul. And that is enough."
I turned my cold gaze to the others, who were still kneeling in terrified silence.
"Burn him."
"Yes, my lady!" They saluted in terrified unison.
Hellfire erupted from multiple hands simultaneously and engulfed Lord Lucifuge's still-twitching body.
His screams of absolute agony echoed through the castle halls, bouncing off the stone walls, as his flesh was consumed and his bones were reduced to nothing but fine gray ash.
Then the fire spread.
It poured out from the castle and swept through the Capital without mercy, consuming buildings, streets, and people.
Men, women, the elderly, the young, even children.
None were spared.
Their screams rose into the sky as the entire Capital was scorched to the ground under the cold order of Lady Asmodeus.
The die was cast.
There was no turning back.