I am Lord. I am the savior of this universe but they do not understand yet. These worthless heroes fight everyday against both men and women who truly understand the world. Of course, some may pursue more chaotic desires. But some, like me, truly wish to make a difference even if it means tearing apart everything they “love”. Who is they? Those “heroes” everyone worships and idolizes as gods. I will show these gods can bleed... I will make these gods kneel.

The door to the office bursts open with a fierce kick. From the darkness of the previous room a gorgeous dark haired woman storms through. Her high heels clicking on the polished floor of the skyscraper office. At the other end she spots her target, the man behind the desk staring out the giant glass windows overlooking the city.

She finally reaches the desk and screams “You dare assault Infinity Island?! You dare attempt to kill the Demon!? With only 50 men, you must either be foolish or suicidal. Speak your identity and your reasons for the assault and your consequences will be fast.” Her roar finished with a spark of her blade pulling out of the sheath.

“Ha. Dear Talia, the last thing you wish for me to do is speak. But if you wish, you will receive.” The man smirked “Please take a seat” said the man gesturing towards the chair at the desk.

Talia begins to smile before she feels a wave roll over her entire body. Her body moves to the chair even though she struggles and fights inside her mind, before taking a seat.

“What kind of sorcery is-” Talia is interrupted by the man turning and slamming his fists on the table.

“There is no sorcery! I am tired of being compared to the witches and freaks in this country. I am so much more. This is true power! Send your assassins in the rafters away, you work for me now.” The man says win a sinister laugh.

Talia begs her mind to resist but is overpowered by the words of the man swirling around her head. She throws her hand into the air and the sounds of feet scuffling can be heard above them.

Talia looks up with little of her own soul in her eyes and asks “How may I serve you um...um...” she stammers thinking of what to call him.

The man notices. He turns back to the window with evil in his eyes and a smirk across his face. “Lord is the name, but you my dear may call me Maxwell.”

Talia perks up now having guidance “How may I serve you, Maxwell?”