One minute... two minutes... soon...
Three minutes... ten minutes... so... fast.
Over twenty minutes... so... strange. Why is this happening?
The newborn silver-haired elf lowered her head, blinking her crimson eyes as she stared at the man in her arms, who showed no signs of being digested. Her face was full of confusion. When she turned to glance back, the magic box floating above the murky swamp remained utterly motionless.
Instinctively, the silver-haired sprite extended her pale hand toward the man's face, aiming to pinch his unfocused, seemingly dormant cheeks.
Snap!
A crisp sound rang out into the night.
"Had enough of the hug? I warned you—I'm not just anyone. Keep your hands to yourself!"
Samael's serpent-like eyes shot open as if he'd awakened from a deep sleep. He smacked away the silver-haired elf's hand and pushed her back warily, his expression grave and self-righteous.
Even though you're tall. Even though you're fair-skinned. Even though you're one of my favorite types from a past life...
That still doesn't give you the right to grope me!
Don't underestimate my integrity, woman!
At the very least, if you're going to offer "benefits," pick a better time and place next time!
"This isn't right... I'll try again!"
Conflicted, the silver-haired elf frowned down at her pale hands. After a moment's thought, she muttered softly and reached once more for Samael's cheek.
Smack!
This time, her effort was met with a sharp flick to the forehead.
The girl rubbed the reddened spot, hesitated for a heartbeat, then glared furiously, unwilling to admit defeat.
Boom!
A palm suddenly filled her vision. A crushing force—like a meteorite's impact—slammed into her head. The silver-haired elf was sent crashing face-first into the ground, carving a massive crater as the island itself trembled.
Poke... poke...
Tina crouched at the edge of the pit, blinking her cross-shaped pupils. Curiously, she stretched out a finger to poke the head buried beneath the messy silver hair.
The silver-haired elf growled, pulling herself out of the dirt bit by bit. The black and red dress formed from her amniotic membrane was now faintly cracked along its seams.
Damn it! Damn it!
The newborn, brimming with indignation, glared darkly at the green-haired goddess before her. Just as she lifted her hands to exact revenge, a crisp snap echoed from above the pit.
Hum!
At once, the wounds pierced by dark-golden wedge runes flared with searing pain.
The silver-haired elf let out a cry as radiant chains of divine law burst from her body, intertwining and wrapping tightly around her. Within moments, the tiny creature—baring her milk teeth and claws—was bound layer upon layer, locked in place.
Crack!
The silver-haired elf stiffened and collapsed onto the ground like a dried, shriveled salted fish, unable to move.
I am Catastrophe.
I am Ruin.
I am the Malice of this world!
Samael rested his chin on one hand, studying the familiar yet unfamiliar face beneath the silver hair. His lips curved upward in quiet amusement.
"Still haven't figured it out? You are a spirit born from this world's malice, from every calamity and plague it has ever spawned. And I," Samael said with a faint, knowing smile, "am the one who bestowed original sin upon humanity."
The ancient serpent seemed to recall something amusing. He clapped his hands lightly, his grin twisting into something strange.
"Come to think of it, that makes you indirectly my creation as well, little Pandora..."
At that, the Daughter of Calamity lifted her head in surprise. Her lips parted slightly, and a flicker of shock crossed her dazed expression.
"So... you're my father?"
"Mhm, you could say that." Samael nodded, smiling. But when his gaze fell upon that face—so familiar, yet so foreign—he found himself blurting out, almost without thinking,
"Though not by blood."
"I... I actually wanted to hurt you..."
The silver-haired girl's expression twitched slightly. After a moment of adjustment, it softened into one of sorrow and guilt, as though burdened by emotions she couldn't quite name.
"Good girl... that's it."
Samael's lips curved with amusement. After a brief pause, he finally placed his hand on her head and began to pat her gently—like one would a tame cat in human form.
She was the very embodiment of the world's evil, Pandora, the Daughter of Calamity—not the saintly Irisviel of the future Holy Grail War and the Einzbern family.
So really, there was no need for restraint or reverence.
"Father, please... release me," Pandora pleaded, her voice trembling. She bit her lower lip, her crimson eyes glistening with remorse. "I want to be a good girl. I want to make up for my mistakes."
"Alright."
Samael nodded, his tone light, almost indulgent. His mood was calm, even pleased. He reached toward the glowing dark-golden chains wrapped around Pandora's body.
Yes... that's right. Go ahead and undo them. You'll pay for this soon enough, you wretched thing.
In the dim light, the silver-haired spirit turned her head aside. Her smile looked innocent at first glance—but deep within her eyes flickered a warped gleam of malice.
The moment Samael's fingers brushed the chains, they instantly constricted, biting into Pandora's flesh. The sudden pressure made her body arch, the taut light bands highlighting every curve of her newly formed figure.
"Father, you..."
The silver-haired girl trembled and whimpered like a helpless worm, her face twisted with confusion and pain.
"Well now, not bad—you've picked that up fast," Samael said cheerfully. "But those tricks? The dead girls already used them all. You're still a bit too green."
He pinched her cheek playfully, giving her a teasing wink.
Pandora—"she who possesses all gifts"—embodied not only the gods' resentment and malice toward humanity but also the sins and weaknesses drawn from the Seven Deadly Sins. She had inherited the talents of both gods and mortals alike.
And they thought this walking calamity could be tamed? Did they take him for a fool?
Still, she was newborn. Her understanding of emotion, expression, and manipulation was raw. Compared to Athena's cunning—or even the mischievous Euryale and Stheno—her attempts at deceit were child's play.
But in time? She'd learn.
At that moment, the exposed Pandora lunged at Samael in fury—only to be swiftly overpowered.
For safety's sake, the ancient serpent reinforced the chains of law, transforming them into a sturdy tortoise-shell seal. Satisfied, he looked down at the humiliated girl and mentally congratulated himself on his prudence.
"Behave yourself."
"Yeah! You're already tied up—what's with all the attitude?"
Harpy and Circe, who had nearly become snacks themselves earlier, finally snapped out of their daze. Seeing the silver-haired demon subdued, they found their courage and crouched beside her, imitating Tina's posture as they mocked her with newfound bravado.
You're... all too cruel...
The newborn's crimson eyes welled with tears. Her little nose twitched as she struggled to hold back a sob.
Meanwhile, Samael, quite pleased after toying with Pandora, flicked his finger.
The pitch-black cube hovering above the red-and-black mire began to hum, vibrating before rapidly shrinking. It transformed into a streak of light and obediently flew into the half-open mouth of the ancient serpent.
Mmm. Much better without that meddling consciousness. My stomach finally feels at ease.
Samael rubbed his abdomen with satisfaction. He had taken the risk of releasing the box precisely to separate Pandora from the dangerous core that had birthed her.
If the magic box was the nuclear weapon, then the silver-haired girl before him was the button that triggered the countdown to the apocalypse.
Without the box, Pandora was no longer a threat.
Now then—training begins.
The ancient serpent stretched lazily before turning to grin at the tightly bound Pandora.
The newborn Daughter of Calamity shivered instinctively, an ominous dread tightening in her chest.
...
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