It was a long time ago.
“Father.”
How long had he sat upon the throne of Hell in listless boredom?
“Father.”
A soft voice reached the ears of The Star Hated by All, who had spent an eternity in slumber.
<…Who are you?>
The Star Hated by All narrowed his eyes.
Surrounded by verdant grass and flowing waters—his palace, the only lush place in all of Hell—an intruder had arrived to disrupt its tranquility.
“You may not know who I am, but I know who you are.”
A small, pitiful lower demon.
She looked up at him, seated on the throne.
She must have been born of the corrupted soil of Hell, a product of petty evil—the kind that made up the majority of Hell’s population. She likely had no name, and her appearance would be no different from countless other lower demons, stamped from the same mold.
Not a being born from bold, noble malice.
But one shaped by the mean-spirited, lowly wickedness that pervaded Hell.
And yet, the Star Hated by All found himself slightly intrigued.
Because of what she called him.
<Did you just call me… Father?>
“Yes, Father.”
The lower demon smiled faintly.
“Lower demons have no concept of parentage. I wasn’t born from a mother’s womb—I was shaped from the tainted soil of Hell. So, with no mother to claim, I made this land my mother. And with no father, I decided you would be my father.”<How impudent. That alone is reason enough for me to sever your head.>
“I understand. But I believe you won’t kill me.”
<Why would you think that?>
“Because I’m too insignificant to be worth killing.”<How clever.>
The Star Hated by All chuckled and rested his chin on his hand.
<Then tell me—what have you come to wake me for?>
“There is something I wish to ask.”<Lower demons have no right to question.>
“That is precisely why I’m curious.”
<…Ho.>
The Star Hated by All narrowed his eyes.
Lower demons were little more than bloodthirsty wraiths—no different from the lesser spirits infesting the human world. Pathetic beings. They did not question. To question was the privilege of higher life forms. Lower beings only demand—what they need to survive. Like animals.
Yet here was one who not only asked for an answer, but questioned the question itself.
It was a welcome amusement for his boredom.
<What is it that troubles you so?>
The Star allowed her to speak, intrigued.
“Oh king, why are you a king?”
She asked with wide, innocent eyes.
“Aren’t you the Primeval Sinner? Then wouldn’t it be more fitting for you to be a god of Hell rather than its king? You could create all demonic beings—not just rule over them.”<A foolish question.>
He answered.
<A god must love all who revere him, equally and without bias. Thus, there is no place for gods in Hell. My affection is selective. I cherish only the souls of suicides, or those driven to curse their god after being tormented by life. I am not the creator’s enemy, but the one who questions the creator’s judgment.>
It is not malice that I treasure, he added.
<That is why I am a king. A king loves his subjects selectively. What Hell needs is not the radiance of a god, but the reign of a tyrant. Someone who oppresses those who worship him, who demands sacrifice, who may treat them as insignificant as he pleases. Hell does not need a god—it needs a king.>
As he spoke with calm disgust, the lower demon slowly nodded.
The Star found the look in her eyes deeply unpleasant. Sparkling with curiosity, without a hint of despair, she accepted his declarations with innocent sincerity.
<You…>
The Star Hated by All frowned.
<…What are you?>
“A lower demon.”
Perhaps so, based on her appearance. But her inner self was different.
‘Could it be…?’
The Star considered a possibility.
‘…Evolution?’
Creation was the framework set by The Savior Who Is One and All. He rarely intervened in the world he’d shaped. That was to observe the countless variables that emerged in a structured world—a phenomenon called evolution.
Even as countless lives perished and planets fell to ruin, the Savior simply watched.
Some Constellations questioned the creator’s detachment, but the Star—knowing the Savior was more a system than a sentient being—accepted it.
‘This world must be His vast laboratory.’
But this—this was strange.
Demons were not supposed to evolve.
Beings of Heaven and Hell were not created to evolve, but to stimulate evolution in the world of mortal creatures caught between.
‘How fascinating.’
The Star grinned.
The Savior knows everything. And because He knows all, He cannot learn anything.
‘That one’s a mutation.’
That’s what the Savior would have concluded without hesitation.
It’s the answer of one who already knows everything—skipping all reflection to give an instant verdict.
Good and evil.
Sin itself—perhaps the problem lies in how immediately it is judged.
That’s what the Star thought.
<Lower demon, I will ask you a question now.>
“Go ahead.”
<Do you believe Hell needs a god?>
“Hmm…”
The lower demon pouted and pondered.
“I suppose you could see it that way… but it’s a little different.”
<Different how?>
With a bright smile, she replied.
“Hell already has a god.”
She declared confidently.
“Father, I will become the god of Hell.”
Hearing her claim, the Star felt a faint twinge of pity.
It wasn’t rare for the insignificant to declare themselves gods.
But gods were born from faith.
In this harsh land, no demon would ever venerate a lowly being as a god.
<…Do as you please.>
The Star closed his eyes.
This child who dared call herself the god of Hell would surely burn out, blindly pursuing omnipotence.
It happened often enough.<I grow sleepy. Your story was entertaining. Now be gone.>
And so, once again—
The Star Hated by All returned to his long slumber.
“Father, I hope you will watch.”
He might have heard her voice faintly in his dreams.
“I will save Hell.”
And when he opened his eyes again—
What awaited him was truly shocking.
An event that had never once occurred since the dawn of creation.
The power of Hell had invaded the human realm.
And it had all begun with that one, insignificant lower demon.
<…And that is why I seek the authority of a Constellation—to contain the sins committed by the Demon God.>
The Star spoke quietly, and I sighed.
There had been no god in Hell.
And because of that, it could never unite.
Once, religion was used to bring the world together.
It justified even massacres—just look at the so-called Holy Wars.
Muslim conquests, the Crusades—all were carried out under divine justification.
War should always be personal, but when done in a god’s name, it becomes a holy mission.
Even if the self-proclaimed god was just a lowly demon, it didn’t matter.
Because she existed, Hell’s factions had united for the first time.
“So the reason you’re trying to regain your Constellation authority…”
I looked at the Star.
“…is to atone in the Demon God’s place, isn’t it?”
<To atone, huh.>
The Star gave a dry chuckle.
<Maybe. I wouldn’t know—I’ve never tried.>
Then he turned to the Bearer of the Cursed Grail.
<Bearer of the Cursed Grail, you are undoubtedly assisting Earth’s restoration at the Demon God’s request.>
[Affirmative.]
[However, Earth’s complete purification will never come. A world corrupted by Gates may one day be restored—only for it to be tainted again by another force. The world where life resides is not a beautiful scene. It exists only to be endlessly defiled.]
Until this world disappears, it will remain corrupted.
That was the Bearer’s conclusion.
“So… we just leave it like this for now?”
Jeong Noeul asked, gesturing toward the Bearer.
<The main body must be near Earth’s core. Originally, I had planned to trace it via the tail, but…>
The Star sighed.
<Interesting. I wonder what expression Michael would make if he heard all this. A system created to turn Earth into Hell… now helping to restore it.>
What a joke, he muttered.
“You wanted to show us this, didn’t you?”
I asked.
The Star nodded.
<You must be feeling it by now.>
He looked at me.
<There are demons like Muddorok, scheming their return. Others like Abrilah, who chose to become human. Then there’s Geahrzimen, hiding in plain sight, living like a loafer.>
“And now, a hellish system helping Earth recover…”
And the Demon God is still somewhere in the human world…
“…Weirdly enough, Muddorok might’ve been the most honest of the bunch.”
<Perhaps. He was a textbook example of a defeated villain.>
But not all defeated foes stew in bitterness.
Even a soldier complicit in Nazi crimes might live out his days teaching morality to his grandchildren.
“…Let’s find the Demon God.”
I said with a long breath.
“You’re planning to, too. Right?”
I looked the Star in the eye.
“Let’s find him—and hear him out.”
What exactly had he done all this for?
And why… had he returned to this world?
Little Pink Starfish 
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