In a hidden chamber deep within an ancient temple, a group of cloaked individuals stood in a perfect circle. Candles flickered, casting eerie shadows on the stone walls as a powerful ritual was underway. The leader of the group, a man named Eldrin, stood in the center, his trembling hands holding an ancient tome. His daughter, pale and motionless, lay on a ceremonial altar surrounded by mystical symbols drawn in blood. Her breathing was faint, her life hanging by a thread. Eldrin's eyes burned with desperation. He had sacrificed everything for this moment.
For two hours, the ritual had progressed without interruption. Strange symbols glowed on the ground, pulsating with an unnatural light as the incantations grew louder. The air grew thick with power, swirling like an unseen storm. The other members chanted in unison, their voices merging into a haunting melody that resonated through the temple walls.
Suddenly, a voice called out, cutting through the chants like a blade.
"Eldrin!"
Eldrin turned sharply to see his second-in-command, Varik, standing at the entrance, his face filled with concern. He motioned for Eldrin to step outside. With a deep sigh, Eldrin reluctantly obeyed, walking past the chanting members into the dimly lit corridor.
"You must stop this," Varik urged. "This ritual… it's dangerous. You know the risks. If the incantation goes wrong, you won't just be saving your daughter—you might be dooming us all."
Eldrin's jaw tightened. "I have no choice, Varik. She's dying. This is the only way."
"You don't know that!" Varik countered. "You are summoning the King of Death himself! You can't control that power! What if it demands something far greater in return?"
Eldrin clenched his fists, his voice shaking. "What would you have me do? Let my daughter die? I won't allow it!"
"I understand your pain," Varik said, his tone softer, "but if we unleash something we cannot contain, how many innocent lives will pay the price? The consequences of this could be catastrophic. Think, Eldrin!"
Eldrin shook his head. "I have already decided."
Varik exhaled sharply, his frustration mounting. "Then at least let's pause for a moment. We need more time to study the text, to be sure—"
A sudden gust of wind howled through the temple, cutting off Varik's words. The ground trembled beneath them. Eldrin's eyes widened in horror.
Inside the chamber, the chanting reached its climax. A massive gust of energy exploded outward, knocking down several members. The candles extinguished all at once, plunging the room into darkness.
The skies above twisted, turning a deep, unnatural crimson. The wind howled louder, tearing through the village nearby, toppling houses and sending terrified villagers running for cover. Panic spread like wildfire.
Eldrin turned to one of the senior members, his voice frantic. "What happened?"
The man, shaken, stammered, "The incantation… it went wrong."
Then, a terrible voice echoed through the chamber, deep and guttural, filled with malice.
"Foolish humans," it sneered. "Thank you for releasing us from the underground world."
A chilling silence followed. Then screams erupted as the ground cracked open beneath them.
From the depths of the abyss, grotesque creatures emerged—twisted black figures with glowing red eyes, their monstrous forms shifting as they crawled into the mortal realm. Among them, dark humanoid figures, once human but now corrupted, stepped forward with sinister grins. The village fell into chaos as the creatures descended upon it. People fled, but there was nowhere to hide.
Eldrin tried to rally his men, shouting, "Stay together! We can—"
But some had already broken rank, running in terror. The demons laughed, relishing the destruction.
This was how demons entered the world.
---
Years later, many considered this story a mere myth. Some called it a fabricated tale, a superstition passed down through generations. But others believed it, whispering it as a warning of the dangers of forbidden magic.
Rose sat in the library, flipping through an old book that detailed the events of the demon summoning. She furrowed her brows, her fingers tracing the faded text.
"Why does Metro love this book so much?" she murmured to herself.
---
Meanwhile, at Metro's house, tension filled the air. Metro sat on the couch, his hands clenched. He felt lost, overwhelmed by everything that had happened.
Lucien stood before him, his arms crossed. "You are in danger, Metro. Your father wants you back, and if he succeeds, the world will suffer."
Metro scoffed. "Why should I believe you?"
Lucien smirked and reached into his coat, pulling out a small crystal. "Because your mother gave me this."
Metro's eyes widened. The crystal shimmered in the dim light, and he instantly recognized it. It was his mother's last gift to him—the one he thought he had lost long ago. His breath caught in his throat as he quickly took it from Lucien's hand, turning it over, inspecting every detail. The name etched onto it confirmed its authenticity.
"How… how did you get this?" Metro asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Lucien smiled knowingly. "Because I knew your mother."
Metro felt the ground shift beneath him. His heart pounded. "That's impossible. How could you—"
Lucien's eyes held a deep sadness. "Sit down, Metro. There's a lot you need to know."