Dirga's head spun. It was too much. Too big.
He shoved back from the table, stumbling to his feet.
"I don't believe you," he hissed. "This is one of your games. Another lie to lure me in!"
Dirga's hand trembled as he pointed at the creature before him. "You're lying. This is just another part of your gamble."
Sasa didn't blink. Didn't smirk. Didn't flinch.
"I wish I was," he said softly.
Then, slowly, he stood again — not like a man, but like something wearing a man's shape.
"Let me show you," Sasa whispered. "Look into my eyes, Dirga."
Dirga wanted to resist. But the moment their gazes locked, he couldn't look away.
He couldn't even blink.
Sasa's crimson eyes changed — and reality shattered.
The void peeled back like smoke torn by wind, revealing a ruined Earth.
Cities burned.
Crimson cracks split the land like infected wounds. From them crawled demons — twisted things with wings of bone and jaws too wide, too human. They howled as they devoured the screaming, not caring who was soldier or civilian, sinner or saint.
Above them, the sky bled.
Not rained — bled.
On the other side of the vision, humans slaughtered each other. In hunger. In madness. In devotion to things they couldn't understand.
The air was smoke and sulfur.
Dirga stumbled back from his chair, gasping. The vision vanished — but the burning in his chest remained.
"That's fake… It can't be real."
His voice cracked.
His soul felt bruised.
Sasa tilted his head, smiling like a serpent watching prey try to run.
"Believe me now?" he asked, his tone low, dark, and undeniably amused.
Dirga said nothing.
"So," Sasa continued, stepping forward, "once again… become my Patron."
His tone shifted — deeper now. Serious.
"I will gamble on you, Dirga. This will be your gambit. Your first step. A pact with me will give you power — not to rule, but to protect. To survive. To stand when others fall. And in your search… maybe, just maybe, you'll find the cure for the one you love."
His voice… there was something in it.
Sadness?
No. Regret.
Dirga swallowed hard.
"But what about you?" he asked quietly. "What do you get out of this?"
Sasa laughed. A real laugh. Joyous and terrible.
"Now that—" he said, lowering himself into his chair again, "is the kind of question that might just keep you alive."
He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, eyes gleaming.
"An entertaining show, Dirga. That's what I want. That's all I want."
The rabbit-headed devil grinned wide, teeth gleaming like blades. "And you… oh, you are one hell of a main character."
Dirga wanted to say no.
But he couldn't.
Because deep inside, something told him this was the only way forward.
He took a breath.
"Fine."
His voice was steady.
"Let's sign it."
Sasa's eyes lit up. "Nice, nice." He clapped once — and the contract appeared.
A scroll of living parchment, etched with glowing red runes, unfurled between them. Shadows danced along its edges like tendrils of flame.
"We'll read it together," Sasa said, suddenly solemn.
His voice dropped into ritual tone.
"I, Sasa — the Devil's Joker, Trickster of the End, do hereby name Dirgantara as my Patron. Our lives and souls shall intertwine. I shall teach him to wield his power. To gamble. To survive. To play the game... until the very end."
Dirga's hand trembled slightly as he raised it.
But his voice was sure.
"I, Dirgantara, accept Sasa as my patron. Our souls shall be bound. I will learn. I will endure. I will fight — until I find a cure... or fall trying."
The contract burned itself into ash.
The shadows around them shivered — not in fear, but reverence.
The void sang.
And between them, a thin glowing string formed — stretching from Dirga's chest to Sasa's. A bond made of flame and darkness. A contract not written on paper, but in soulstuff itself.
It was done.
The pact was sealed.
Dirga didn't feel pain this time.
He felt clarity.
Like a piece of the chaos finally aligned inside him.
He looked up, eyes steady.
"So…" Dirga asked, voice low, steady. "What do we do next?"
Sasa leaned forward, tapping the shadowy table with one long finger.
"First, we get you out of this situation."
Dirga blinked. "Situation?"
Sasa stared at him.
"Did you just become dumb?" he said with theatrical offense. "You just killed one of the most influential people in the goddamn country."
Dirga's eyes widened as the memory came crashing back.
Domiscus Vantasio.
CEO. Billionaire. National icon.
Now a corpse in a cursed graveyard. His blood still fresh on Dirga's hands.
"Oh…"
"Yeah. 'Oh.'"
Sasa smirked, then clapped his hands.
"Time for your first real lesson, my little Patron."
His tone shifted — mockingly teacher-like.
"Close your eyes. Feel the karma energy. Don't think — just let it come to you."
Dirga hesitated.
Then obeyed.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
Silence.
Darkness.
And then—
Light.
Inside his mind, Dirga saw it. His soul — a soft, glowing core floating in a vast inner void. Orbiting around it were seven spheres of light, spinning gently like moons around a dying star. One of them shimmered with a distinct crimson hue, pulsing like a heartbeat.
"That's it," Sasa whispered somewhere nearby, his voice proud. "You're a natural, kid."
Dirga focused on the red one.
"That one—" Sasa continued, "is the soul of Domiscus Vantasio. The last one you claimed. But you've only got three days before it loses its tether and vanishes. After that, it's useless."
Dirga's brows furrowed. "So I need to put it back?"
"No, no," Sasa corrected. "You need to decide. Whether to fake his life, use his face, or… let the body rot. Up to you. But mark my words — that corpse draws attention. The kind that bites back."
Dirga opened his eyes. Sweat beaded on his brow.
"Got it. I'll… think fast."
He started to ask another question. "What about—"
But Sasa raised a hand.
"Save it. We reconvene in one week. You'll have questions. You'll have problems. And most of all — you'll have choices."
He stood tall again, more serious than ever.
"Use this time wisely, Dirga. Your next steps decide whether you survive... or fall."
Dirga nodded, still unsettled.
Something was shifting in Sasa. Not a full transformation — but a crack in the mask. Beneath the joker, there was something... old.
Something that had seen the world burn before.
"Okay," Dirga said quietly.
"Bye, kid."
And with a swift kick, Sasa's foot slammed into his chest — not hard, but decisive.
The void shattered.
Dirga gasped.
He was back.
The graveyard reappeared around him like waking from a nightmare. Cold wind whipped through the trees. The smell of blood clung to the air. At his feet lay the corpse of Domiscus Vantasio, motionless in the pentagram.
The stars above seemed dimmer now. Distant.
Dirga stood slowly, his hand brushing against the ritual card in his pocket.
He had seven karma points.
Three days before Vantasio's soul expired.
And one week before he would see Sasa again.
The game was far from over.
In fact...
It had just begun.