By morning, my apartment had stopped resembling normal human housing entirely.
The younger brother was asleep half sideways on the couch with Nina sprawled directly on top of him while her aunt stood nearby drinking coffee and openly judging both of them.
“You two look irresponsible.”
“We are irresponsible,” Nina answered without opening her eyes.
“Fair.”
Meanwhile my demon’s mother had taken over my kitchen despite being an ancient terrifying ruler from Hell. It felt weirdly natural.
“You cut vegetables aggressively,” I informed her while watching from the counter.
“It improves flavor.”
“That sounds fake.”
His father sat at the tiny kitchen table reading Earth newspapers upside down again while occasionally making disappointed noises at human politics.
“…Your governments lack intimidation.”
“That is not the problem with Earth governments.”
Meanwhile my demon stood beside the coffee machine wearing normal human clothes that still made him look ridiculously dangerous.
And the apartment kitchen looked painfully familiar again. The coffee. The quiet morning light. Him standing there like he belonged in my space.
God. That realization hit harder than expected. Because the beginning of all this started exactly here.
Me. 12 summoning candles . And one terrible decision.
And now Hell royalty was eating breakfast in my apartment. Then abruptly, someone started screaming downstairs.
Nina sat upright. “That sounds terrible.”
The younger brother listened for one second before nodding thoughtfully. “That is definitely cult behavior.”
Five minutes later, all of us stood outside the old occult shop near my apartment building while the front door hung wide open dramatically.
The same crooked sign still flickered above the entrance. The same dusty candles filled the windows. And inside, the cult members who made me buy the candles had completely lost their minds.
One older woman burst into tears the second she saw my demon.
Another cult member collapsed directly onto the floor whispering: “WE DID IT.”
“I bought candles drunk,” I reminded the room.
“YOU CHANGED HISTORY.”
The tiny occult shop erupted into complete chaos afterward. One cult member ran in frantic circles screaming about prophecy while another aggressively lit ceremonial candles by accident. My demon was deeply unimpressed by all of it.
Then the oldest cult member approached him before dropping to one knee. The entire shop quieted instantly.
“We never expected forgiveness,” the old man said softly.
I blinked once. Forgiveness? The atmosphere shifted slightly afterward.
My demon’s expression changed too. Then quietly, his mother explained beside me:
