The world thrives on power, it's the only thing that keeps darkness at bay. Demons from hell in all shapes and sizes plauge the land; a literal red door opens up in the sky, and they fall through, until an awakened hero uses their abilities to kill them.
The worlds strongest awakened heroes are basically worshipped by the people who have and haven't awakened yet, they are held in high regard because they've defeated catastrophic demons in the past that threatened to swallow the world whole. Many celebrities and influencers have interviewed them, linked up with them to post on social media, fought with them, or were saved by them; plaques were awarded to them, and they have endorsements everywhere. You would see their faces and feats and victories on billboards, cups, clothes, etc.
Everyday, the heroes use their gifts to defend others, killing demon after demon in a carnival of bloodshed. Society looks up to the heroes who protect them, and there are even some who use their gifts to do dumb villain shit. But are easily dealt with by the ones who seek justice and peace.
The mystery of their abilities are still a mystery on its own, but the awakened and non-awakened sees it as a gift.
Amongst all the awakened heroes, stands Camelot. He is garnered in gold and white shiny armor, and a glowing sword of light inside the sheathe on his hip. He has golden eyes, and long flowy white hair, and he rides through the skies on a flying white horse alongside members of his party, called the Path of Light.
The citizens down below looked up at him, and exclaim:
"It's the hero Camelot!"
"Camelot!"
"He's so beautiful.."
"Here he comes!"
Camelot and his party descend down from the sky, and he waited. Not seconds later, piles upon piles of people arrived, even the awakened, to see what he had to say. Everyone was recording, and newscasters were broadcasting for the entire world to hear.
This was being streamed to over 4 billion people all over the world in just a matter of minutes, it's like Camelot was waiting for the attention to be put onto him. People were getting excited for him to talk, going live on their phones and saying:
"Guys, guys, the number one ranked hero Camelot is about to talk! I'm just waiting for everyone to shut up!"
On Camelot's left and right sitting on the hovering winged horses, was a 19 year old girl named Seven, and a 14 year old boy named Killbill.
Seven had violet colored eyes with a shade of pink in them, and she had black eyebrows, and bright peach blonde hair. She was indeed beautiful, especially in the eyes of everyone else.
Men down below tried to get her attention, exclaiming:
"Seven!"
"Marry me!"
"I just awakened! I'm strong enough for you!"
"Forget it. Her parents and Camelots parents already said they were destined to be married later on down the line. It's already set in motion."
"Dammit! It isn't fair!"
"Stop being a baby."
Seven, being one to fully ignore the proposals of everyone, ignored them. She was always awfully quiet, only talking when something intrigued her or peaked her interest. And most of the time, about 80% of the time, nothing interested her.
Killbill, he had messy red hair with two long braids going down the sides, lapping over his collar bones. He had brown eyes, and he was 4'9. He always wore a white T-shirt that was too big for him, and he wore blue shirts and white sneakers. He was always holding a wooden sword, and he always persuaded himself that he was the boss of everyone, including Camelot.
He turned around towards the other party members, pointed his wooden sword at them, and said, "You five! I left my snacks in my backpack down at the guild house. Go fetch them."
The party members replied:
"Get them yourself."
"Nope."
"Too far."
Killbill replied, "Huh?! I'll kill all-!"
Camelot groped the top of Killbill's head, and smiled, "Stop, Kill'."
Camelot reached in his back pocket, and pulled out a bag of chips, and handed them to Killbill.
Killbill grabbed them slowly, saying, "Thank you. I-I mean, I'll let you slide with this one! I'll be sure to reward you greatly!"
"Haha, I doubt it."
Coming up to them, was also a member of their party, a boy named Jaede. He had wavy orange hair, dark orange eyes, freckles, and gray earrings in his ear. He was covered in red and black demon blood, and he was putting a large sword on his back.
"Can we start this shit already?" He scoffed in an impatient manner.
Camelot replied in a patient but stern tone, "Patience, Jaede. I don't want to rush news like this."
"Yeah? Well, I'm getting bored and I'm itching to do something."
Killbill teased him, "Haha! You gotta wait!"
"Damn you, brat!"
Camelot didn't hesitate to say, "Trust me when I say this, I am ready to make a stand as well. The demons will be no more after today. As awakened heroes, we are the pinnacle of strength, instead of letting our overwhelming power get to our heads, we should let it get to our hearts, allowing our hearts to pave way for Justice and unity that is to come."
The people down below heard him, and they cheered:
"That was such an amazing speech!"
"Keep going!"
Camelot smiled, saying, "It seems we have enough people watching, and I see we have thousands of awakened heroes up here, and so I am ready to speak."
Camelot hopped off of his horse, and began to walk on the air, as the crowd was amazed.
Camelot stood before the sea of awakened humans, their eyes reflecting the blend of terror and determination that had become the hallmark of their new existence. His voice, rich and commanding, echoed across the multitude gathered in the shadow of a world now brimming with nightmarish realities.
"My fellow awakened," Camelot began, his tone imbued with a gravity that demanded attention, "we stand upon the precipice of an era suffused with both darkness and hope. Our once peaceful Earth groans under the weight of a new plague: demons, the very embodiments of our deepest fears, now roam freely amongst us. The smoldering gate of hell, a monstrous wound in the fabric of our world, lies open and festers at the heart of our pain."
A hush fell over the crowd as he continued, his voice weaving the present struggle into the tapestry of their history. "For centuries, these lands were steeped in legends—tales of heroes and monsters. Now, the horror has crawled out of myth and into daylight. As awakened humans, our eyes see the unseen, and our hands hold the power to challenge the nightmares made flesh."
Camelot raised his hands, beseeching the skies as if to draw strength from the celestial bodies hiding behind the veil of daylight. "But here, gathered under the testament of our will, we are the bulwark against this inferno. We are the vanguard of light against the encroaching abyss, the ones who will push back this demonic tide and reclaim our home."
His gaze swept across the crowd, locking eyes with warriors, mages, and the newly empowered, instilling in them a radiant ardor. "We will not be idle as shadows take root in our lands. I call upon you, brave souls, to join me on this crusade, not just as soldiers, but as saviors. Together, we will venture into hell's maw and sever the head of this insidious snake. We will close that gaping gate and ensure that no demon ever again dares to steal the tranquility of our world."
A cheer erupted from thousands of throats, the air itself seeming to tremble with the force of their newfound resolve. "Stand with me," Camelot thundered, "awakened brothers and sisters! Grip your weapons, harness your magic, steel your hearts! We will wage a war not just for survival, but for the soul of our planet. And in this crusade, we will carve out a future where our children can dream not of monsters, but of stars and endless possibilities."
The congregation cheered, a murmur of voices swelling into the air as clusters of awakened humans gathered to discuss the rousing speech they had just heard. Their faces alight with newfound purpose, they spoke amongst themselves with fervor.
"Did you feel the power in his words?" one whispered in awe, the energy of the moment igniting a spark in the speaker's eyes. "Camelot speaks not just to the mind, but to the very core of one's being. It's as if he's awakened more than our hidden powers—he's revived our collective spirit."
Another, nearby, nodded in vigorous agreement. "Indeed, it's as if he has torn the veil of fear from our eyes. To think that we could be the architects of hell's demise, rather than mere victims of its vicious whims."
Within earshot, a group of non-awakened humans who had also borne witness to Camelot's words engaged in their conversation. "This threat unites us in a way I've never seen," one marveled. "Where there was once division, now there's a shared destiny binding every soul, awakened or not."
"It's true," a companion responded, a smile spreading across their face. "Camelot's vision transcends the barriers we once put between ourselves. His call to arms is a call to protect not just the awakened, but all of humanity. It's...inspiring." An older figure, leaning on a staff for support, interjected with a voice like seasoned timber. "He's reminded us of what it means to be human—to fight against the darkness with every fiber of our being. We are not just resisting; we are proclaiming our right to exist, to preserve the beauty of the world we know, and the hope for what it can still become."
The conversations wove through the crowd like a unifying thread, binding them all with a sense of camaraderie and purpose. Despite the looming threat, the mixture of awakened and non-awakened humans found common ground—Camelot's words were a beacon, and their collective heart was the response, ready to face the darkness together.
Jaede sighed, "Booooring. Let's leave now."
Killbill said to him, "I command you to stop being impatient."
"Say it again, shitty brat."
Seven said, "…Enough. Let's leave. Now."
Camelot looked at Seven, and he held her hand, saying, "Of course, Seven."
Many awakened humans were lining up to join the cause, as Camelot used his light abilities to create flying white horses so they could ride on them.
In the woods nearby, an 18 year old boy named Jyun sat on a tree branch, holding his phone, and seeing what was going on.
'"Blah blah blah, yada yada yada just a bunch of hero bullshit."
He had black wavy hair, dark red eyes, a red line birthmark under his right eye, a burn mark on the top left corner of his head; he wore a red scarf around his neck, and he had a white wrap covering his entire right arm and his right hand, but exposing the fingers. His father, Dogma, was holding a demonic bear by the head with his bare hands, breaking its neck, and he said to Jyun, "Now now, don't be so hard on the awakened ones. Your day will soon come when you will awaken as well."
Dogma had short brown, green eyes, and a green black beard.
"It's taking forever. What age did you awaken again?"
"I was 16."
"Thought so. Ironic." Jyun folded his arms. "Don't ever talk to me again." Her murmured sarcastically.
Dogma grinned, and he jumped up, putting his son in a headlock, "Stop being a little wussy!"
Jyun cried out, "AGH! Let me go old man!"
Dogma let him go, and Jyun fell out of the tree; Dogma began to walk forward, and he sighed.
"Son.."
Jyun stood up, rubbing his head and saying, "Owww, fuck that hurt."
"Son."
"Yo?"
"I'm going."
"Going…?"
"Yes."
"You're going?"
"Yes. I hope you can understand."
"Going exactly where?"
"SERIOUSLY? YOU MADE IT SEEM LIKE YOU KNEW!"
"WELL SORRY!"
"Anyway…"
"Oh no. Lore dump."
"Silence while I monologue dramatically like in the movies. The emergence of demons among us has cast long shadows across our history," Dogma started, his hands slowly gesturing to the horizons, as if to draw in the vastness of his experiences. "Their influence is like a persistent storm, painting every corner of our reality with strokes of fear and uncertainty. But like any tempest, it has shown the strength of our structures, the resilience of our spirits. He paused, his gaze momentarily lost in the past. "Society, like a grand old tree, bends in the wind but does not break. We've adapted with remarkable grace—the world still buzzing with trade, schools still hum with the laughter of children, and the air is still thick with the dreams of tomorrow. Life, son, finds a way to push through the cracks of any ruin. Among this enduring thrum of daily life stand the heroes, the highest ranks of the awakened. Like celestial bodies in a vast firmament, they provide guidance and light to those navigating the night. Each bears a responsibility heavier than the sword or magic they wield—it's the weight of hope, and it can be a burden far greater. I was once where Camelot now stands—the vanguard, the beacon, the shield against the darkness. But the ranks are not static, my boy. We rise, we lead, and then we make way for new strength, for fresh resolve." He stood firm, his silhouette framed against the world he fought to protect. "Today, I join Camelot and others on an expedition that will carve through the chaos like a sword of dawn. We journey not only to close the gates of hell but to mend a tear in the fabric of our reality. It's a path that heroes of every age must tread—a testament to our unyielding defiance in the face of oblivion. Whether I hold the title or not, my charge remains unchanged. I fight so the world, so you, can hold onto the light, onto the possibility of peace. Know that wherever I go, whatever I face, the heart of a hero—the heart of a father—beats for the world I dream you'll inherit."
"How sweet. Can we go now?"
"SHUT UP AND LISTEN!"
"You're actually going with them.."
"I have to. Your mother..she fell victim to these demons protecting you. You feel guilty everyday because you wish you had been awakened at that time to protect her, and I feel guilty because I wasn't there, I was-."
"-Out killing other demons. I know the story. Please don't remind me of it, dad. It makes me edgy as hell. Like those suicidal protagonists."
"What I'm saying is, I'm gonna do this for her, and you."
"Yeah yeah. You know how strong those demons are, it's gonna be rough."
"Oh it will be, but I will be ready as always. I wasn't ranked number one for no reason. It's gonna be a big battle, it's in the center of hell, there is no doubt it will be carnage. Like it always has. But just remember, everything will be fine."
"Mhm. Okay."
"Aww. You gonna cry like a wittle-."
"NO!"
"Haha! Okay. Don't cry or be sad or whatever. This is for the family. If we don't do this, then when will we ever have a perfect time to do something like this."
"Yep. Can I cook tonight if you take too long?"
"Yes. Don't burn the house down like you almost did last time."
"I WON'T!" Jyun scoffed.
Jyun and Dogma chuckled at the same time, and Dogma gave his son a hug.
Jyun stopped on his tracks, saying, "AGH!"
"Stop acting like a tough guy. Embrace the love."
"Okay that sounded super weird."
Jyun hugged him back, and they let each other go.
Dogma walked away, actually, he dashed away at light speed, Jyun couldn't trace him.
Jyun sighed, "Dammit. Is this one of those moments where the loved one leaves to do something heroic and then don't come back? I hope not, it's too cliche."
Jyun, standing by himself, thought, 'So brave. He can just run into danger like that, doing what he can to be a hero. How come I haven't even awakened yet? Such BULLSHIT. Why me? Whoever is dishing out these powers must not like me. That day..that day with my mother..'
(FLASHBACK)
(Seven years ago)
The sun dipped below the horizon in a surrendering blaze of red and gold, casting long shadows across the small, timeworn cottage that Marla (Long red and black hair with blue eyes), and her son Jyun called home. They had managed to live a quiet life despite the chaos that the open gates of hell unleashed upon the world—until that fateful evening when a demon, all sinew and malice, tore through the tranquil tapestry of their existence.
Marla's heart hammered against her ribs as she pushed Jyun behind her, the rickety kitchen table upturned to form a fragile barrier between them and the beast. With no powers to wield, her only weapon was the fierce love she harbored for her child—a love as potent and burning as any magic.
"Stay behind me, Jyun," Marla whispered, her voice threaded with a fear she couldn't suppress. Her hands shook, but her resolve did not waver as she positioned herself between the demon and her son.
The demon advanced, its eyes hollow pits of endless hunger, its claws scraping against the earthen floor, a haunting symphony to the unspeakable that was to come. Marla's breaths came in ragged sobs, yet when she looked at Jyun, when she gazed upon the trembling embodiment of her entire world, courage swelled within her breast. She would not go gently.
As the creature lunged, Marla threw herself forward, a primal scream tearing from her throat, a mother's recklessness her final act of defiance. She felt the claws rip through her flesh, the pain immaterial compared to the terror of leaving her boy alone. Falling to the ground, Marla twisted her body, positioning herself atop Jyun, shielding him with the last ounces of her life.
"Run... Jyun... survive," she gasped, her blood staining the wooden planks, her life whispering away with each shallow breath. The beast, momentarily distracted by the taste of sacrifice, paused its assault, and in that fleeting reprieve, Marla's dimming eyes met Jyun's, brimming with tears and unspoken words.
"I love you, more than all the stars," she choked out, her hand weakly caressing his cheek. Her voice was a fading echo of a once joy-filled life, "Be brave, my son..."
With those final whispered words, Marla's light waned, her protective embrace around Jyun becoming her last testament. Jyun, fueled by terror and his mother's love, slipped from beneath her lifeless form and fled into the encroaching night, the demon's roar a monstrous lullaby in the wake of his shattered innocence.
The darkness swallowed him as he ran, Marla's final act of maternal devotion forever etched in his heart—a beacon of love that even the deepest abyss could not extinguish.
(End of flashback)
(Present day)
Jyun clenched his fists, saying, "Leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone. I wasn't strong then…how annoying."
He took deep breaths, and he started walking to the house. He had his phone in his hand, and saw the awakened heroes mounting on white horses, heading towards a large red door in the sky that was opened, and a black fog came out of it. They were heading inside, as news anchors and helicopters inside were reporting this live:
"And there they are! Off to save the world like true heroes! A gate to hell opened just for them to take action! This is a blessing all by itself! Oh look! Camelot is riding alongside the former number one ranked awakened hero, Dogma! I never thought I would see these two fighting alongside each other! Today will certainly be a day to remember! Pan the camera towards Jaede!"
They panned the camera towards Jaede, and Jaede saw them, and he flipped them off, saying, "Buzz off!"
As Jyun watched from his phone, he saw the camera was pointed towards Seven.
"Damn she's still pretty. We went to middle school together, all the way through graduation in high school. We talked once when I let her borrow my eraser, and she never gave that shit back. I let it slide, and then after, she never spoke to me again. I doubt she even remembers me at all. I hope they come back alive and get this done. Don't none of you die please."
The awakened heroes entered the corner of hell, The air was thick with the scent of brimstone and ash as the cadre of awakened heroes approached the gaping maw that served as Hell's grand threshold. A tenebrous chasm, it bled an unnatural red, as if the very ground wept blood. A somber cadence echoed from the depths, the beat of a heartless drummer signaling an unspeakable terror that awaited below.
The sky above was a tapestry of despair, ash and smoke weaving patterns of eternal twilight. The heroes, each clad in armor that bore the scars and runes of countless battles, stood at the precipice of damnation, their eyes alight with a steely resolve.
Camelot, whose very presence seemed to splice through the suffocating fear, raised his sword—a blade that gleamed with a light of hope—and turned to his comrades. The clanging of armor and the shuffling of determined feet played a counterpoint to his measured tones.
"This is the furrow of our fates, the lineage of our purpose," Camelot proclaimed, his voice resonating with a power that transcended the physical plane. "Remember, it is not only darkness that dwells beneath; it is the silence before the dawn. Today, we restore that dawn."
Dogma, standing shoulder to shoulder with Camelot, nodded, his eyes reflecting the fiery landscape. "Aye, brothers and sisters in arms, this descent is our ascent. For every soul that has trembled in the night, we now bring the quaking to these vile gates."
The heroes trod upon a ground littered with fragments of the lost—their steps purposeful, their hearts synchronized with a warrior's hymn. The heat rose in oppressive waves, a sweltering, suffocating embrace that sought to sap their strength, yet each breath became a testament to their tenacity. The smell was a cacophony of decay—an affront that challenged their very humanity. Sulfuric vapors and the stench of rotting life mingled together, creating a miasma that cloaked the landscape in a vile perfume. And as they walked, a palpable aura of evil slithered around them—a living entity of malice that gnashed against the shield of their combined resolve. Every forged step forward was a conquest over the dread that sought to entrench itself in their bones.
Camelot's voice cut through the cacophony of hellish sound once more, rallying his forces. "Lift your hearts. It is in darkness that we find the truest light—within ourselves." His words, like a beacon, burned brighter than the fires surrounding, guiding their path.
Dogma followed suit, his voice grizzled with the weight of his legacy. "Our legacy is not merely etched in stone, but woven in the annals of the light we bring forth this day. In our unity, Hell has already begun to quail. For my son and his mother, I know what needs to be done: eradicate evil and darkness."
With that, they stepped forth into the belly of perdition, each step a defiance, each breath a challenge, every heartbeat echoing the unspoken oaths that carried them forward—the oaths to protect the realms of men, to sever the shadow, and to reclaim the future stolen by the denizens of this forsaken pit.
And hell itself seemed to hold its breath, awaiting the clash that would resound through the ages—the day when awakened heroes dared to silence its eternal torment.
"Demons!" Jaede exclaimed, pulling his large sword from his back.
Killbill added, "Let's do this, I'll lead!"
Jaede scoffed to Killbill, "Shut it!"
Seven didn't say anything, she just looked, as dark shadows outlined her body.
Camelot pulled out a sword of light, and said, "Charge!"
Dogma made a battle ax form in his hand, and he shouted, "Kill them all!"
Camelot charged forward, his Sword of Light piercing the darkness, a radiant lance against the surging tide of snarling demons. With each swing, beams of brilliance sliced through fiendish flesh, casting shadows that Seven twisted and wove into tendrils of darkness. Seven, embracing the ebony cloak of her power, danced through the shadows, a ghostly marionette in a theater of war. The demons lunged only to grasp at the void left by her agile form. With a flick of her wrist, umbral chains erupted, constricting and tearing at demonic limbs with ruthless precision. Dogma, his imposing figure a beacon amidst the bleak landscape, swung his battle-ax with a tempest's fury. Ice and blue flames intertwined around his weapon, a frostfire cyclone that froze and scorched with each arcing blow—demons cleaved in twain before shattering into icy abyssal shards.
A demonic behemoth, all muscle and malice, thundered toward Dogma, its roars quaking the sulfurous ground. Dogma met the creature's charge with an upward surge of his ax. Ice blossomed on impact, racing up the behemoth's form, entombing it in a crystalline prison before the blue flames ignited, reducing the towering fiend to a pyre of defeat. Meanwhile, Jaede, the one who's sword wielded mist and smoke, stood serene as a silent storm surrounded him. His large sword traced intricate patterns in the air, and with a forceful thrust, he summoned billowing smoke that shrouded the heroes in a protective veil.
From within the opaque cocoon, be manipulated the mists, shaping them into spectral serpents that struck out with deadly intent, their fanged mouths rending demonic assailants, discorporating their essence into the sulfurous air. Killbill, understated and unperturbed, wielded his wooden stick with the finesse of a master artist. He moved fluidly, a dance of practicality, as he touched the ground, the wood underfoot sprouted into a thicket of jagged stakes that impaled oncoming fiends.
With a twirl of his stick, Killbill summoned a wooden golem, its form rising and solidifying from the hellish terrain. The golem lumbered forward, a guardian of grain, smashing any demon that dared challenge its creator's authority. A pack of winged nightmares swooped from the soot-black sky, diving towards the heroes in a feathered frenzy of talons and teeth. Seven's shadowy tendrils whipped upwards, ensnaring the creatures in mid-flight, dragging them down into the abyss of her dark embrace.
Camelot's sword blazed brighter at the aerial assault. With a graceful leap, he soared into the melee. His blade became a shining comet, severing wings and banishing the winged demons back into the void from whence they came. Jaede's mists transformed into a colossal dragon, the embodiment of the unseen, which roared and plunged through the ranks of the enemy. It swept its tail, scattering demons like leaves before a gale, its nebulous jaws snapping shut on the malevolent spirits.
As the dragon dissipated, Killbill struck the ground, roots bursting forth like liquid tendrils, ensnaring a legion of lesser demons, dragging them downwards, their screams lost as the earth reclaimed them. Dogma faced a demon covered in chitinous armor, its hide impervious to the frostfire of his ax. With a bellow, Dogma summoned an ice spike beneath the creature, lifting it off its feet before a gout of blue flame turned its protection to slag. Seeing an opening, Seven melded into the shadows behind a brute twice her size. She emerged as a dagger of darkness, her form solidifying just enough to drive an umbral blade through its heart, dissipating into wisps as it fell.
Killbill's hand moved with a whisper, his stick alighting on the forehead of an incoming demon. Rapidly, wooden roots sprouted from within, blooming into a cage around its head before tightening and constricting, leaving the demon still.
Jaede's sword danced, twirling in elaborate arcs as he shepherded his mists into a wall that suffocated flames churned out by fire-wielding demons, smothering their attacks before they could reach her allies. Camelot's voice rang clear, a clarion call that bolstered the heroes' spirits. "Together, we are unbreakable!" His sword cleaved a path to a demon sorcerer, dispelling the dark enchantments flung towards his companions.
With an earth-shaking roar, Dogma felled a dozen foes, his battle-ax leaving a trail of ice and destruction that made even the fiercest demon hesitate before advancing once19. A demon of shadow and flame, a mirror of dark fire and Seven's shadowy abilities, clashed with Camelot. Their duel produced a maelstrom of light and dark, each strike illuminating and obscuring the battlefield in rapid succession. It was Seven who tipped the balance, her umbral touch transforming her adversary's flames into inky wisps, allowing Camelot's radiance to cleave through unhindered.
Dogma yelled, "We're doing great! Nothing could go wrong now, as long as we have our faith!"
The crescendo of the battle was a symphony of chaos and determination, the heroes' might converging into a singular force of reckoning. Killbill's unbreakable stick carved symbols into the ground, from which colossal wooden sentinels arose. Jaede's mists, Dogma's frostfire, Seven's darkness, and Camelot's light orchestrated a deadly dance that intertwined their powers in a crescendo of destruction, overwhelming the remaining demonic horde. As the final demon fell, the heroes stood amidst the silence of a battlefield that bore the scars of their ferocity.
It was quiet at the moment, and everyone was panting heavily.
Jaede said, "Shit…"
Killbill leaned against Jaede, "Woohoo! We're doing good!"
Seven still said nothing.
Camelot said to everyone, "You are all doing great! Our faith should rise now!"
Other party members said:
"Yes!"
"Did you see what I did to that one demon? Cut his head right off and threw it towards another demon!"
"Sick!"
"I'm so tired already!"
"I brought water!"
Dogma was smiling, and he grinned, "You all are the pinnacle of the future, now we shouldn't waver and celebrate just yet. We have more to do! This should be a breeze!"
Back in the woods where Jyun was, a malevolent wind howled through the woods like a banshee's wail, and Jyun could barely hear his own voice as the tempest flung him violently through the air. His usually calm demeanor was shattered by the chaos that surrounded him.
"Oh no, no, no!" Jyun's voice cracked as he narrowly evaded a scythe-like branch. "This is not good! Not good at all!" The words were barely out of his mouth before he had to contort his body to avoid colliding with a massive oak.
"Spare me!" he pleaded, his voice reaching a higher octave as another rogue limb clawed at the sky, inches from his face. "I've always been a friend of nature, I swear! What the fuck did I do?!"
With the wicked gate drawing closer, an edge of desperate determination crept into his panicked cries. "I can't end like this!!" Jyun's gaze flitted frantically as he searched for an escape that didn't exist. He was a prisoner of the storm, carried inexorably toward an unknown fate.
"Come on, Jyun! Think!" he yelled at himself, though the forest seemed to swallow the sound. The force of the wind was unyielding, and with a fearful glance at the portal, he screamed, "Just let me through without a scratch, please!" His voice was thick with dread as he resigned himself to whatever lay beyond.
His shout echoed as he neared the boundary between the maddening gusts of the woods and the dark doorway. In his final moment before crossing the threshold, Jyun's thoughts turned inward, and he whispered a fervent, "Don't let me die like this," to whatever spirits or gods might be listening. Then, with a mix of terror and blind hope, he clenched his teeth, tightened his eyes, and barreled headfirst into the abyss beyond the gate of hell.
He fell through, and the air instantly almost clogged his throat, and he panicked, "NOOOO! WHY AM I HERE?!"
Jyun fell on the ground, rolling over and over, converted in blood and dirt and ash from the ground.
He looked around him, seeing dead demon bodies, and he thought to himself, 'Why the hell am I here? That wind did it? No, it couldn't be. That's impossible, right? A random wind wouldn't purposely bring me here. Ohh no. If dad sees me he's gonna be pissed and then give me a lecture and lore dump and extra speech on why I shouldn't be so reckless, again.'
Jyun stood up, and his clothes were slowly burning just due to the atmosphere of hell itself, he said, "Tch! That's hot. At this rate, I won't be able to make it by myself, I have to catch up with the awakened fighters, my best bet is to just stick with them, get scolded by dad in front of everyone, we win, everyone wins, we go home, that's it. No extra shit."
He walked forward, and he immediately saw the group of Awakened, and he called out, "Yo!"
Everyone turned toward him, saying:
"Dogma's son?!"
"What the hell is he doing here?!"
"HOW did he get in here, that's the question!"
"Isn't he weak or something? Why did he follow us? Just for us to protect him?"
"Yeah, he hasn't awakened at all. Everyone thinks he won't ever awaken."
Camelot just looked at Jyun, saying, "Hmm. That's odd."
Jaede scoffed, "Oi! You better not be coming in here just to go sightseeing!"
Jyun replied, "Of course not! Some random wind dragged me in here! I was so scared, I almost got pierced by a tree branch."
The other party members said in unison in disbelief, "Sureeee."
Jyun scoffed, "I DID!"
Killbill said, "Looks like I have to protect him as in the leader anyway."
Seven and Jyun made eye contact, and Jyun said, "Seven.."
Seven looked at him up and down, then looked away.
Jyun thought,'The hell was that look for?'
"Son.."
Jyun looked at Dogma, and Jyun said, "Dad I know it sounds super crazy, but I really got swept in here by a random wind. It destroyed half the woods!"
Dogma sighed, "If that's what happened, then I believe you. This isn't an issue, son."
"You're not scolding me..?"
"Why would I? A wind brought you here, right?"
"Dad.."
The party members said:
"I wish my dad was like that."
"My dads mean."
Dogma said to Jyun, "Just stick with me as we press through here, and everything will go smoothly. My excitement is brewing, we really will win this. And I want you to seen it firsthand, so I wouldn't be mad as hell. HOWEVER, if the situation was different.."
"Yeah yeah you would get on my ass."
"Good." Dogma brushed Jyun's head, and Jyun said embarrassed, "I'm not 12 anymore."
Dogma looked at the congregation of the awakened, and he said, "As I was saying before, this will be a breeze now! We all have our motivations with us, and that will help us press on even further without faltering. What are your motivations?!"
The party members answered:
"My son!"
"My wife!"
"My daughter!"
"My dog!"
"Myself!"
Killbill answered, "Leadership!"
Seven, Camelot, and Jaede didn't answer, they were too focused on the task at hand.
But Camelot thought, 'Based on stories before, Dogma was known to be a true leader, a true leader of encouragement also. He increased the morale of party members, and that led them to always be successful during demonic battles. I'm glad I got to see it first hand from my inspiration, Dogma.'
Dogma said, "See?! We all have something to thrive our power off of!" The heads of the congregation nodded and smiled as they were truly motivated. Dogma proceeded with a smile as tears ran down his eyes, "Now let's go and win! We should clear this in the snap of a finger!"
Dogma snapped his fingers, and the heads of dozens of party members exploded in a gory parade of blood and brains, splattering all over the place as bodies dropped, and Dogma had a straight face now.
Badump..
Badump…
Badump..
Jyun's heart pounded, his breath was not in sync anymore, he said, "..D-D-Dad.."
Dogma snapped his fingers again, and more heads of t party members exploded, killing them one by one as pieces of their heads scattered through the air.
Camelot, Seven, Killbill, Jaede, and hundreds of other awakened's eyes got big and dull.
Camelot screamed, "…D-DOGMA!!!!!!!"
Jaede yelled to Seven, "Seven! Is he being possessed?! Your darkness and shadows abilities can detect all forms of curses or possessions in the range of dark magic!"
Seven said, "H-He's not…it's him..it's Dogma.."
"No way….no way!"
Killbill panicked, staggering backwards, his body and eyes shaking, "No..no! This is a dream! This is a dream!"
Camelot dashed towards Dogma, yelling, "What the hell are you doing?! Murderer!"
Dogma replied, "That's rude."
Seven, Jaede, and many other awakened heroes followed up with Camelot, ready to rush Dogma together. As they got close, a hooded figure dropped down in front of Dogma, stuck its hand out towards Camelot and the others, and they err blasted back as their bodies crunched in pain, blood coming from their noses, eyes, and mouth.
The hooded figure laughed, saying, "Hehe..this is an interesting bunch.."
Dogma agreed, "Aren't they?"
Jyun couldn't move. Fear and disbelief was instilled in his heart and mind, he was sweating blood, his right leg vibrated in anxiety; his heart was beating loudly, and every time his heart beat at a rapid pace, he was thinking about the times where he and his father Dogma had happy times, even alongside his mother, the laughter and times they shared were priceless.
"Dad…what did..what did you do?" Jyun asked in fear.
Dogma answered, "Why are you panicking? Are you scared of me, son?"
"..You killed them.."
"I did sadly. But I left the strongest ones alive, which is at least 400 of the awakened heroes. Meaning I've killed over one thousand with just the snap of my finger. The demons have plans for them."
"And you…don't care…? What about mom..? The world..? Me?!"
Dogma put his hand on Jyun's shoulder, explaining, "I do care about that stuff. But you don't understand, this is for the better, for the better of our family. Some people just had to die-."
Jyun moved his dads hand away fast, yelling with tears in his eyes, "You're a killer! Those were good people!"
"I understand they had lives and families, and I understand they were good people who just wanted to save the world, but I want something more, another chance at what he had before, a happy family."
"This isn't the way! Why..? Why would you do this?! This is wrong! I don't know what's gotten into you, but you gotta snap out of it!"
"I'm not possessed, trust me. And Why not? You wouldn't understand how much I loved your mother, Jyun. Now come with me, we have to prepare for the entertainment."
Dogma started walking away, but the hooded figure stood there staring at Jyun.
Jyun looked back at the dead awakened heroes, he was crying, he saw Seven, Camelot, Killbill, and Jaede still alive, but wounded. Seven was looking at Jyun, and Jyun gritted his teeth, and then suddenly..
Badump…
At that moment, hundreds of red and black system windows appeared, and everything was glitching like a TV screen, the system windows said:
"ERR0R"
"ERR0R"
'What's this?'
He looked around, and saw everything was paused, like it was stuck in time.
'Everything stopped? Everyone is frozen..?'
A singular system window appeared, asking:
[Jyun Lee. You have three choices to answer from, but can only choose one. The question is, will you run, fight, or surrender? If you run, you will gain an increase in IQ stats, but will lose stats in dexterity. If you fight, you will gain the system, and be one with it, and gain the awakened ability, "Hellhound." If you surrender, and go with your father, you will gain an increase in IQ stats, but you will lose stats in durability. You have seven seconds to answer every question the system asks you. If not answered in the allotted time, you will die]
7..
6…
5..
4..
3..
2…
Jyun thought, 'What's this? What's going on? 7 seconds? I can't deal with this right now? I gotta go with B, right?! An awakened ability, give it to me! I have to help somehow..I can't sit and watch someone die again..not again. I choose to fight..'
"I wanna fight!"
[You chose B, you have now awakened and gained the "Hellhound ability", continue to make smart choices and answer questions and complete quests to level up and gain more power for yih awakened ability. Your level right now, is level 1]
Time resumed, and Jyun's chest was glowing red, and everyone watched in awe.
Dogma turned around, and said, "Oh? He wants to fight?"
As Jyun stood in the nightmarish gate and into the fiery chasm of Hell, a searing pain coursed through his veins. It was as if the very fires of this infernal place sought to consume him from within. But amidst the inferno and the brimstone, something ancient and powerful stirred within his soul. His humanity blended with the essence of a fierce spirit that had laid dormant within him — the spirit of a majestic red wolf.
Inside this realm of despair, where hope seemed like a distant memory, his body became a canvas for a miraculous transfiguration. Flames licked at his form without singeing his flesh but instead crafted an armor of ethereal energy. His muscles tensed and expanded, bolstered by the wolf's formidable strength. Jyun felt his senses amplify a hundredfold; the piercing scent of sulfur, the cacophony of a million damned souls, and the oppressive heat of the flames — all became crystal clear yet bearable. His cries of terror morphed into a primal roar as the transformation took hold. From his back sprouted a pair of luminous, fiery wings that reflected the color of smoldering coals — a stark contrast to the surrounding darkness. A tail flickered into existence, whirling with embers and wisps of smoke. His fingers ended in razor-sharp claws, perfectly designed for battle.
Jyun's skin was embroidered with markings that mirrored the crimson fur of the red wolf — a tapestry of scarlet and obsidian that glowed faintly against the bleak backdrop of Hell. His eyes, now glowing a fierce amber, completed the metamorphosis, burning with a supernatural light that pierced through the surrounding gloom. In this magnificent form, Jyun felt both his humanity and his new kinship with the red wolf spirit fuse into a singular, powerful entity. He stood on all fours like a real wolf, a humanoid figure with the aura and fearsome aspect of his wolfen counterpart. The balance of grace and ferocity, the elegance of a human merged with the untamed wildness of a wolf, rendered him a sight both formidable and awe-inspiring.
He laughed, "HAHAHAHAHAHA! Let's get this over with!"
'This feeling..this amount of power…this is what power feels like.? It feels..amazing. But..I have to use it to save everyone, and myself, and find out what the hell is going on..'
Dogma said, "Woah! You've awakened! Right now too? What a coincidence! Your strong now!"
Jyun laughed maliciously, "It feels greattt…"
Dogma looked at the hooded figure, saying, "Since he won't run or surrender to me, he has to be with the others, participating in the death games of hell, let's hope he doesn't die in the process. Please subdue him."
The hooded figure replied, "I'll do it, but not because you asked."
In the blink of an eye, Jyun was in his face, grinning as foam dripped from his sharp teeth, but the nodded figure touched Jyun, and blasted him backwards, knocking him to the ground. Jyun's form was vanishing, and he was unconscious.
The hooded figure said, "What a reckless brat."