THIRD PERSON'S POV
"It's like she's come back from the dead," Vladimir muttered as he watched Demon on the screen, her movements slow and labored, the toll of her wounds evident. The pain she felt was seeping through now that the effects of her medicine had worn off. Despite the agony, she continued to descend the building, her body battered but unyielding.
Vladimir's eyes flickered with conflicting emotions as he observed her struggle. The urge to end Demon's life was strong—an end to this madness she was orchestrating. Yet, every time he envisioned her death, something within him recoiled. A sharp pang of regret, or perhaps guilt, twisted inside him.
"My dear daughter," he whispered, his voice barely audible as he clenched his fist, trying to banish the unwelcome sentiment. This was no time for weakness. The fate of countless lives hung in the balance, and if Demon was allowed to live, she would continue her relentless crusade, killing anyone who stood in her way.
"If I hadn't left you, you wouldn't have seen the cruelty of this country, the horrors that shaped you," he murmured, his voice cracking under the weight of his own thoughts. "No... if you hadn't met Viper, you wouldn’t have been poisoned by these ideas, this insane ambition to reshape the world in your image."
But why? Why had he abandoned a six-year-old girl, leaving her to fend for herself in a world so brutal? Why had he walked away from Hyra, taking only Nathan with him? Why hadn’t he returned to her, to the family he left behind? Was it because of Luci's death? But Luci was never the one he loved—Eli was (HYRA's real mother). And yet, he had walked away, and in doing so, had created the very monster he now sought to destroy.
What was his purpose? What had he hoped to achieve?
"You look deep in thought," a voice broke through Vladimir’s reverie.
He looked up to see Mr. Salvador standing at the door, his expression unreadable.
"Just thinking about how to babysit her," Vladimir replied, gesturing toward the screen where Demon’s painful descent was displayed. Every step she took felt like a knife twisting deeper into his chest.
Mr. Salvador's eyes widened as he took in Demon's condition, memories flooding back of the time she had been near death in the dungeon. The sight of her now, struggling to even stand, was eerily reminiscent of that dark time.
"Don’t react like that," Vladimir said sharply, noticing the change in Mr. Salvador's demeanor. "You know the plan. It’s all part of the plan."
"The plan?" Mr. Salvador echoed, his voice laced with skepticism. "You talk about a plan as if we truly understand what she’s doing. But we don’t. She’s unpredictable, Vladimir. Even I, who has been by her side longer than you, her so-called 'father,' don’t know what she’s planning. I’m just following her orders, piecing together fragments of a strategy that never seem to align. She constantly claims it’s all for Viper, but I don’t see the logic. She confuses us all."
Vladimir's face hardened. "It doesn’t matter what her true purpose is. Whatever she’s planning, we must stop it. She cannot be allowed to succeed."
Mr. Salvador stared at Vladimir, searching for certainty in his words, but finding none. There was only fear, fear of what Demon might truly be capable of, fear that they were all just pawns in a game none of them could fully comprehend. And in that fear, a horrifying realization: even Vladimir, the man who claimed to be her father, was lost in the labyrinth of her mind, grasping at shadows that held no answers.
"Whatever happens," Vladimir said, his voice barely above a whisper, "we cannot let her win."
But as they both turned their gaze back to the screen, watching the crimson-eyed figure that seemed more specter than human, they couldn’t shake the gnawing doubt that maybe—just maybe—they were already too late.
