Back in Dirga’s penthouse — the battlefield-turned-sanctuary — the silence was thick, but not empty.
And at the center of it all stood Sasa, no longer wearing the rabbit-headed illusion of a devil but the body of a man — or something that resembled one.
He looked like someone’s stylish uncle who refused to age. Silver-streaked black hair, well-fitted slacks, suspenders, and a smile that was either charming or horrifying depending on how long you stared at it.
He twirled once in place and flopped backward midair, levitating above the couch, arms folded behind his head.
"Hmm..." he drawled. "Watch another anime? Start a war? Or maybe... finally clean out that vault I left in the third circle?"
He sighed dramatically and glanced at the giant TV screen. Anime characters bounced across it in overly dramatic poses.
"Nope. Too wholesome," he muttered. Click.
The screen changed to a chessboard. A holographic one. Pieces shaped like devils, kings, aces, and jokers shimmered in place.
Sasa plucked a glowing rook off the board and made it do a backflip before letting it land back on its square.
"It’s your move, my dear little monsters," he said with a smirk.
Then, with a snap, his clothes shifted — from polished style to soft silk pajamas patterned with tiny rabbit skulls and playing cards. He floated toward the massive glass window overlooking the neon city skyline, sipping a glass of blood-red wine that hadn’t existed a second ago.
Above him, a swirling image opened like a water ripple — a window into the pocket dimension where Dirga had been hurled. The scene was surreal: a black sun pulsing within an eternal night, Dirga’s body hovering at its heart, transforming.
Sasa watched the image with a grin that bordered on reverence.
"Dirga’s cooking nicely," he said, peering up into the sky. "Let’s hope he doesn’t burn the whole pocket dimension before he’s done evolving."
The clouds above twisted unnaturally.
Like they were watching.
Like something older was stirring.
Sasa’s smile widened, and his tone dipped into that dangerous whimsy only a devil like him could pull off.
"Ohhh? Is someone watching?" he said sweetly. "Are the little kings and queens leaning in closer now?"
He stood — no longer floating — his body slowly returning to its upright stance. His aura, which had been dormant, pulsed once like a sleeping god rolling in its dream.
The smile on his lips remained.
They burned now. Bright. Sharp.
Then, his voice sharpened — just enough to cut.
"Let’s make one thing clear," Sasa said, raising his voice slightly as if speaking directly to the sky, to hell, or to the board of devils watching in silence.
"And if any of you bastards try to touch him before he’s ready..." His aura flared — blood-red and howling — "I’ll erase your entire bloodline from the Devil Index."
The penthouse lights flickered.
His aura pulsed — subtle but impossible to ignore. Like standing next to a volcano pretending to be a man.
Then, as if nothing had happened, he took a deep breath and grinned, swinging his legs midair like a child on a playground swing.
"Anyway, back to waiting!"
He threw a handful of popcorn into his mouth — summoned, of course — and spun once midair, watching the shifting clouds and distant red crackle of energy in the sky.
But the Joker was already here.
"Tick-tock, boys," he muttered, eyes twinkling.
"My piece is on the board."
He glanced back toward the closed door — the one that led to his pocket realm where Dirga fought to survive, to evolve.
"Break well, kid," he whispered. "When you come out... you won’t just be strong."
He took one last sip of his wine, a single drop clinging to the glass like blood.
"Sleep well, Dirga," he murmured
"Your devil’s got your back."
Sasa floated lazily in the center of Dirga’s penthouse — an ageless devil in silk pajamas, drifting like a balloon that forgot the ground existed.
"Hmm... what to do?" he muttered, folding his arms behind his head as he drifted upside down.
Around him were floating screens — one played anime, another showed a galactic chessboard with flaming devil pieces, and another simply displayed a crackling portal to Dirga’s dimension, sealed tight and humming with power.
Sasa spun once, slowly, as if the ceiling had gravity just for him.
Destroy a kingdom? Mmm... tempting, but messy."
The door creaked open.
"Boss?" came a voice — sharp, curious, familiar.
She stepped into the room in her usual confident stride, only to pause and blink at the scene — a devil floating upside down in cartoon-print pajamas.
Her face lit up. "Uncle Sasa!"
Sasa flipped in the air and gently touched down, landing with exaggerated theatrical flair.
"Ohhh Lilith~" he said, placing a hand over his heart. "Just the devil’s favorite assistant!"
She raised a brow. "Where’s the boss?"
"Ahh... well, he’s doing something." Sasa twirled his finger dramatically in the air. "Let’s call it... evolution."
Lilith frowned. "He disappeared again? Great. And just when we need him for the board meeting. You know... since Lucian Marruk is dead and all?"
Sasa’s smile widened. "Mmm, yes. So dramatic, wasn’t it? Very cinematic. Very... explosive."
He paused, eyes narrowing as if gazing through realities.
"Well, why don’t I handle the meeting?" Sasa offered with a grin that was both too kind and not kind enough. "It’s getting boring around here. I feel like tasting a little Earthly chaos."
Lilith blinked. "You? You’re gonna—"
Sasa interrupted with a flamboyant pose, arm raised high like a shonen anime hero.
"Humans of Earth... prepare yourselves! The Devil takes the Chair!"
A shimmer of energy danced over his form — pajamas faded into Dirga’s signature black suit. His face shifted, bones clicking softly as he perfectly mimicked Dirga’s appearance, down to the scowl and casual menace in his eyes.
But something was off.
Too perfect. Too clean.
An uncanny imitation laced with charm and barely restrained madness.
Lilith crossed her arms, skeptical. "You sure you can pull this off?"
Sasa winked. "Darling, I’m always pulling something off."
He turned toward the sealed rift — toward the realm where Dirga fought his soul’s war — and peered through it.
For a moment, he was silent.
Then, quietly, with real weight in his voice:
"Hope Dirga’s done before that pixie-cut banshee shows up," Sasa muttered, glancing at the door.
Sasa’s voice echoed low, just above a whisper.
Not to Lilith. Not even to himself.
But to the swirling void behind the veil — where Dirga fought to rebuild himself from darkness.