HELL
"My lord" the demon croaked, his voice trembling. His yellow eyes darted nervously around the cavernous chamber, careful not to lift his gaze too high.
"There is... a situation that requires your attention."
Silence.
The chamber was dimly lit, shadows clinging stubbornly to every surface. A faint rhythmic sound echoed- a low, deliberate tapping, like claws drumming against stone. The source of the sound sat obscured in darkness on a throne made from the bones of ancient beasts, radiating dread and authority.
The lesser demon shifted uncomfortably, clutching a cracked scroll in his clawed hands. "Azazel is missing," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "He has... left Hell."
The tapping stopped.
A chill seeped into the room, a stark contrast to the ambient heat of the underworld. The lesser demon flinched, his tail curling instinctively around his legs. He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat feeling like molten lead.
"I-I have dispatched scouts to scour the Earth," he stammered. "But as you know, my lord, Azazel is not... ordinary. He is... difficult to track."
From the darkness, a single word cut through the suffocating silence.
"Find him."
The lesser demon recoiled as if struck. He bowed lower, his forehead nearly scraping the ground. "Yes, my lord. At once!"
The shadows seemed to shift, the oppressive weight of the room growing heavier with each passing second. The demon dared not linger. He scurried out of the chamber, his claws clicking frantically against the stone floor.
As the echoes of his departure faded, the darkness in the chamber pulsed, as if alive. The unseen figure on the throne leaned forward ever so slightly, a faint, predatory growl emanating from the void.
"Azazel," the voice murmured, low and cold. "What games are you playing now?"
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"Imponat extreman parte stolae...."
A wind erupts in the room, spinning everything around uncontrollably.
"Santissma vero Eucharistia super caput obessessi, aut aliter ejus.."
"Help us!"
"Keep her away!"
The beds flip against the wall, windows blast open...
Crash!!
A thin haze of drywall dust floated lazily in the air as Ace stood, arms crossed, surveying the fresh crater in the living room wall. Shards of what was once a 55-inch television lay scattered on the floor like the remnants of some tragic electronic sacrifice.
Sun pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly. His patience, like his rapidly dwindling collection of televisions, was wearing thin.
"That's the fifth one," Sun muttered, gesturing at the hole in the wall. "The fifth one this week, Ace."
Ace shrugged nonchalantly, brushing a speck of imaginary dust off his shoulder. "In my defense, it startled me."
Sun stared at him, incredulous. "It was The Conjuring. How does a fictional priest in a horror movie scare you, of all beings?"
"It's not the priest," Ace replied, waving a hand dismissively. "It's the sheer audacity of humans thinking a splash of water and some chanting could send me back to Hell. Truly absurd."
Sun folded his arms. "And yet, you threw my TV as if it were about to do just that."
Ace's expression turned smug. "I was simply ensuring your continued entertainment by motivating you to upgrade. You're welcome."
A knock sounded at the door, followed immediately by the creak of it opening. Sun's second-in-command, a burly man nicknamed Razor, poked his head inside, his face a mask of practiced indifference.
"Boss," Razor began, his voice deadpan, "that another TV casualty?"
Sun glared at him. "Yes. It is. And before you ask, no, I don't need you to explain how much those cost."
Razor raised his hands in mock surrender. "Wasn't gonna say a word. Just letting you know the guys downstairs heard the crash and took bets on what Ace broke this time."
Ace perked up at that. "Oh? And who won?"
"Tim," Razor replied with a shrug. "He guessed the TV. Again."
Sun groaned, slumping onto the one remaining intact piece of furniture—a lumpy old couch that had somehow survived Ace's reign of destruction. "Why does everyone treat this like it's normal?"
Razor smirked. "Boss, after the chandelier incident last month, the car explosion last week, and the kitchen fire yesterday, a busted TV barely makes the top ten. We're numb."
Ace grinned, clearly pleased. "See? They're adapting. Good for morale."
Sun shot him a look. "Good for morale? Ace, do you realize how close we are to turning this place into a junkyard?"
A chorus of muffled laughter drifted in from the hallway, followed by someone shouting, "Tell Ace he owes Tim 200 bucks!"
Sun buried his face in his hands. "Why do I even bother?"
Ace leaned against the wall—or what was left of it—his grin never faltering. "Because, dear Sun, you know your life would be boring without me."
Razor cleared his throat, stepping further into the room. "By the way, boss, you want us to patch up that hole, or are we just gonna call it 'modern art' like last time?"
"Patch it," Sun grumbled. "And tell the guys to quit placing bets on Ace's... activities. It's not a casino down there."
Ace raised a finger. "Actually, a casino would be a delightful addition. Can we?"
"No," Sun snapped, pointing at him. "No casinos. No more destruction. And for the love of everything, no more movies that 'startle' you."
Ace chuckled, plopping onto the couch beside him. "You're no fun."
At that moment, another henchman walked in, his arms loaded with snacks. "Boss, you want popcorn? We're about to start a new round of—"
He froze, eyes darting to the gaping hole in the wall. Without missing a beat, he sighed and turned around. "Never mind. I'll be downstairs."
Sun threw a pillow at the retreating henchman, who ducked expertly.
Ace stretched, looking far too relaxed for someone responsible for so much mayhem. "So, what's next on the agenda, Sun? More movies? Maybe one with explosions this time."
Sun glared at him. "How about we don't do anything that might result in me losing the last bit of sanity I have left?"
Ace tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm. Sounds dull."
Razor chuckled as he stepped out, leaving Sun and Ace to their usual banter.
In the quiet that followed, Sun slumped deeper into the couch, staring at the remnants of his television. "One day, you're going to break something I can't replace, Ace."
Ace smirked, the faint glow of mischief in his eyes. "Oh, Sun. You already have."
Sun's groan was drowned out by the distant sound of more laughter from his men downstairs, who were clearly enjoying their boss's predicament far too much.
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Sun and Ace strolled through the city streets on their mission to replace the television Ace had obliterated. Sun's gang had pitched in to cover the costs—it wasn't the first time, after all—but Sun knew better than to count on their generosity forever.
"Do you know how many TVs you've ruined?" Sun grumbled.
Ace grinned, unrepentant. "Do you know how many lives I've enriched with my presence?"
Sun rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, "A walking disaster is more like it."
As they turned a corner, a small shop caught their attention. It was modest but inviting, with a cheerful sign that read "Sweet Haven – Desserts & More". The faint aroma of fruit and sugar wafted out, carried by the breeze.
Ace's nose twitched. "What's that delightful smell?"
"It's just desserts," Sun replied, but Ace was already veering toward the store.
Inside, a teenager stood behind the counter, his apron slightly too big for his lanky frame. Beside him, a younger boy, no more than eight or nine, sat perched on a stool, kicking his legs idly.
"Welcome!" the teenager greeted. "What can I get you?"
The younger boy grinned. "You should try patbingsu. It's our best seller!"
Ace looked intrigued. "Patbingsu? What's that?"
The younger boy's face lit up as he described the dessert—a mountain of finely shaved ice topped with sweet red bean paste, fresh fruits, and a drizzle of condensed milk.
Minutes later, Ace took his first bite. His eyes widened, and for the first time in a long while, he looked genuinely delighted.
"This," he declared, "is divine."
The younger brother giggled at Ace's dramatic reaction. "You really like it, huh?"
"I don't like it," Ace corrected, scooping another bite. "I love it."
The brothers exchanged amused glances before the elder one placed a few more desserts on the table. "On the house," he said with a smile.
Sun raised an eyebrow. "That's generous of you."
The younger boy shrugged. "It's fun watching someone enjoy it that much."
Ace finished the desserts with unrestrained enthusiasm before pulling out a tattered book. The cover read, "Holiday Break Guide." Flipping to an empty page, he waved a hand, and a quill materialized out of thin air.
The brothers stared in awe as Ace meticulously noted the details of the patbingsu, from the texture of the shaved ice to the balance of sweetness in the toppings.
Sun, arms crossed, watched in silence. Finally, he said, "You know, for someone who acts like a bull in a china shop, you're surprisingly meticulous."
Ace smirked without looking up. "One must properly document the finer things in life, Sun."
Sun shook his head, bemused. Ace was reckless, yes, but there was an undercurrent of curiosity and focus in everything he did. He learned quickly, often mastering things in a way that seemed almost unfair.
"Ready to go?" Sun asked.
"Unfortunately," Ace said, snapping the book shut. "Goodbye, sweet patbingsu. You shall not be forgotten."
The brothers waved as Ace and Sun left, still chuckling over Ace's antics.
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The streets were bustling as they made their way to the electronics store. Ace was animated, rambling about the new TV and the genres he wanted to explore next.
"Action. Horror. Maybe a few rom-coms," Ace mused.
"You?" Sun said, amused. "Rom-coms?"
"Don't judge," Ace shot back. "They're fascinating—human emotions are so chaotic and illogical."
Before Sun could respond, a sudden commotion stopped them in their tracks. The bustling streets were eerily subdued as police barriers and disaster management personnel directed civilians away from the chaos ahead. The air was thick with tension, the muffled sounds of destruction growing louder with each step Ace and Sun took...
"Another guild war," Sun muttered, grimacing.
Explosions echoed through the air as two opposing factions, the Destroyer Guild and the Siren Guild, clashed violently. Enhanced and superhuman fighters from both sides hurled destructive attacks, tearing through the city. Buildings crumbled, and civilians fled in terror.
"Sirens again?" Sun muttered under his breath, his tone a mix of irritation and unease.
Ace, happily chatting about the new TV just moments earlier, paused mid-sentence, tilting his head toward the sound of an explosion. His eyes gleamed with curiosity. "What's all this ruckus? A holiday festival?"
Sun sighed. "Not quite. That's the Siren Guild and the Destroyer Guild tearing each other apart. Stay out of it, Ace. We're here for a TV, remember?"
But even as Sun said it, his ears picked up whispers from a fleeing crowd.
"Innocents caught in the crossfire..."
"...two children trapped!"
Before Sun could fully process the words, his feet were moving. His mind raced as dread pooled in his stomach. I hope it's not them...
His heart sank. "The dessert shop," he breathed, already running.
_____________________________________________________
The store was unrecognizable. Rubble and broken glass lay scattered across the street, the once-cheerful sign barely hanging onto its frame.
"Damn it!" Sun growled, tearing through the debris. "They're just kids!"
Ace appeared beside him, unnervingly silent. With a lazy flick of his wrist, he raised the debris effortlessly, revealing the elder boy, barely conscious and bleeding from his legs. Sun dropped to his knees, checking the boy's pulse.
"Alive," he exhaled. "But where's his brother?"
The boy's lips moved, but his voice was barely audible. "Taken... the monsters took him..."
Sun froze, his heart sinking. Gates opened by the Destroyer Guild's Aetherforged had unleashed monsters—kobolds, goblins, and other vile creatures.
Ace straightened, his usual nonchalance replaced with a cold, calculating expression. "Interesting."
"Ace—" Sun began, but the demon was already gone, heading toward the heart of the chaos.
________________________________________________________
Flames licked at the edges of buildings, and the streets were riddled with craters from the explosive clashes between two powerful factions. The Siren Guild fought valiantly, their operatives weaving coordinated attacks to counter the raw, brutal force of the Destroyer Guild.
At the center of the destruction, Sven commanded attention. A figure of towering menace, his weapon—a jagged axe pulsating with dark energy—was an extension of his unrestrained aggression. Notorious within the Destroyer Guild, Sven was one of its team leaders-infamous for his recklessness and the trail of devastation he left in his wake. His cruel laughter rang out as he swung his axe, cleaving through a Siren Guild member with savage precision.
"You Sirens really thought you could stop us?" Sven jeered, his voice dripping with mockery. "Your songs can't drown out the sound of real power!"
A ripple of light broke through Sven's taunts as Clio Minji entered the fray. She was a striking figure, wielding her radiant spear with a deadly grace that commanded respect. Her presence bolstered her comrades, her movements precise and purposeful as she deflected Sven's attacks and shielded others.
"Don't listen to him!" Clio shouted, her voice cutting through the noise like a blade. "Hold the line! We're stronger together!"
Sven turned to her, his grin widening. "Ah, the 'Protector of the Sirens.' You've got fire, I'll give you that. But let's see how long you last against me."
Their battle began in earnest, Clio's light-infused strikes clashing with Sven's brutal, dark energy. She moved with agility, dodging his heavy blows and retaliating with well-timed thrusts. But despite her skill, Sven's raw strength and unpredictability kept her on the defensive.
Clio gritted her teeth, her breath coming in short gasps. Every time she managed to land a blow, Sven seemed to shrug it off, his laughter growing louder. "Is that all you've got? I expected more from the Siren Guild's golden defender!"
Nearby, the scene turned darker. Monsters summoned through the Destroyer Guild's gates had gathered children near an altar etched with ancient symbols. Their grotesque forms danced around the captives, chanting in guttural tones as energy began to swirl ominously.
Ace appeared on the battlefield, his red eyes gleaming with amusement as he took in the scene. "A ritual sacrifice," he mused aloud. "Isn't that interesting.."
The monsters faltered, their instincts screaming at them to flee. Before they could react, Ace raised his hand and snapped his fingers. The chanting stopped abruptly as a pulse of energy radiated outward, scattering the creatures like leaves in a storm.
Clio, still locked in combat with Sven, caught the movement out of the corner of her eye. Her gaze flickered to Ace, confusion momentarily breaking her focus. "Who—"
"Eyes on me, sweetheart," Sven growled, capitalizing on her distraction to deliver a powerful blow. Clio's spear absorbed most of the impact, but the force sent her stumbling back.
Ace tilted his head, watching with mild interest. "You're struggling, Miss Protector. Shall I step in?"
Clio glared at him, her pride warring with practicality. "I don't need your help!"
Ace smirked but didn't move to intervene—until a group of Destroyer Guild members started toward the altar.
In an instant, Ace was between them and the children. His movements were effortless, and the sheer force of his presence brought them to a halt. Without a word, he dispatched them with a wave of his hand, their bodies flung into the air like discarded toys.
The sudden shift in the battle caught Sven's attention. His cocky demeanor faltered as he watched Ace with a mix of disbelief and growing unease.
"Who the hell are you?" Sven demanded, his grip tightening on his axe.
Ace's lips curled into a lazy grin. "Someone on a holiday break."
Before Sven could react, Ace closed the distance between them in a blur. Grabbing Sven by the throat, he lifted him effortlessly into the air. Sven struggled, his once-booming voice reduced to strangled gasps.
"Let's see how far you can fly," Ace remarked, flinging Sven into the distance with a casual flick of his wrist.
The remaining Destroyer Guild members froze, their morale shattered. One by one, they fled, leaving behind their wounded and their pride.
Clio, battered but still standing, rushed to the altar where the children huddled. Her hands glowed with healing light as she began tending to their injuries, her focus entirely on saving lives.
Sun arrived moments later, carrying the elder boy. His eyes darted around, relief flooding his features when he saw his brother among the rescued children. But that relief turned to despair when he saw the boy's motionless body.
Clio's expression tightened as she knelt beside the younger child. She tried to heal him, but her powers faltered. Her voice was heavy as she looked at Sun. "He's gone. I can't..."
Sun's heart sank. The elder boy let out a broken cry, his grief piercing the air.
Ace frowned, visibly annoyed by the somber scene. With a theatrical sigh, he reached into the air, his fingers curling as if grabbing something unseen. A faint, otherworldly glow surrounded his hand.
"What are you doing?" Clio asked sharply, her exhaustion giving way to suspicion.
Without answering, Ace hurled the captured energy at the boy's lifeless form. The child's chest rose sharply, and he gasped, his eyes snapping open.
Everyone froze.
Clio stared, her voice trembling. "That's... impossible. Who are you?"
Ace offered a crooked grin. "Someone who doesn't like loose ends. The kid still needs healing."
Sun quickly stepped in, pulling Clio aside as rest of the Sirens began healing the kids.
"This is Ace. He's... complicated."
Clio glanced between Sun and Ace, her eyes narrowing. "I'm Clio Minji, a defender of the Siren Guild. Whatever you are, thank you—for saving them."
Ace shrugged, already turning away. "Let's go, Sun. We've got a TV to set up."
Sun lingered for a moment, watching Clio and the rescued children. Then he followed Ace, muttering under his breath, "You're a strange one, Ace."
Ace smirked, his stride confident. "That's what makes this vacation fun."