Hell was loud. Always had been. Screams echoed off jagged black cliffs, rivers of lava hissed like angry snakes, and the air stank of sulfur and regret. But today? Today was different. Today, the demons weren't just yelling—they were chanting. Thousands of them, from scaly imps to hulking war-beasts, crowded around a massive crater at the heart of Hell. The ground trembled. Red lightning cracked across a sky that looked like it was bleeding.
This was Hellneath. A void so old, so wrong, even the devil himself tiptoed around it. A place where light didn't just die—it drowned. Long ago, God had sealed it shut, scared of what it could do. But now, someone was dumb—or crazy—enough to try waking it up.
At the crater's edge stood Luciver, the First Fallen Angel. His wings, once pure white, were now charred black, curling like smoke. His silver hair glowed under Hell's fiery light, and his eyes burned with a hunger that made even the toughest demons look away. He wasn't just a rebel. He was the rebel—the guy who'd told God, "Nah, I'm done with your rules," and started a war that shook the heavens.
Next to him stood a kid. A creepy, ten-year-old kid with skin pale as bone and eyes like nightmares—black sclera, silver pupils that seemed to see through you. This was Luciver's son, the devil child. He didn't smile, didn't fidget, just stared at the void with a calm that made your skin crawl. "Father," he said, voice soft but sharp, "it's time."
Luciver nodded, his lips curling into a smirk. "Yeah, kid. Let's break the world."
The demons roared, claws and fangs glinting. At Luciver's feet lay a single golden strand—Eve's hair, stolen from Eden itself. It shimmered like it was alive, humming with power. In his other hand, he held a jagged dagger, its blade carved with runes that pulsed red. This was it—the key to unlocking Hellneath.
But it wasn't enough. Hellneath didn't just want magic. It wanted blood. A sacrifice.
"Baekho!" Luciver's voice boomed, and the crowd parted. A massive demon stepped forward, his armor cracked from battles older than time. Baekho had once been a guardian of Heaven, a warrior with a heart like a lion. Now? He was Luciver's right-hand man, loyal to the end. His white tiger-like fur was matted with ash, and his golden eyes glowed with fierce determination.
"My lord," Baekho growled, kneeling. "I'm ready."
Luciver placed a hand on his shoulder. "You'll be remembered, old friend. As the one who opened the door."
Baekho didn't flinch. He stood, walked to the crater's edge, and raised his arms. The demons fell silent. Even the devil child watched, unblinking. Baekho began to chant, his voice deep and rumbling, pulling at the air like a storm. The ground shook harder. Eve's hair floated up, glowing brighter, and the dagger in Luciver's hand started to hum.
Then Baekho screamed.
His body glowed, cracks of light splitting his skin. The void was eating him, draining his soul to fuel the ritual. Demons whispered, some stepping back. Another demon, Zerath, a hulking beast who'd once shattered a star with his bare hands, snarled and charged forward. "This is madness! The void will—"
ZAP.
A pulse of black energy shot from Hellneath. Zerath didn't even scream. One second he was there; the next, he was gone. Just ash drifting in the wind. The demons froze. If Zerath, one of Hell's strongest, got erased like that, what chance did they have?
Baekho's body collapsed, crumbling into dust. But something rose from the ashes—a small, creepy doll with button eyes and a stitched mouth, floating above the crater. It glowed with Baekho's soul, twisted and trapped. Luciver laughed, low and dark. "Perfect."
The doll's mouth opened, and Baekho's voice echoed, hollow and wrong. "The rift… is open."
Hellneath roared to life. A massive portal tore open in the crater, spewing black flames and a sound like a thousand dying stars. The demons cheered, but some looked terrified. This wasn't just power. This was end-of-everything power.
Luciver raised his hand, and the doll floated to his side. "To Heaven," he said. The portal shifted, locking onto a new target. Through it, they could see golden spires and glowing gardens—Heaven itself. The demons roared, pouring through the portal like a tidal wave. Hellneath's energy followed, a black wave that burned Heaven's fields and cracked its gates.
High above, a figure appeared.God. His light was blinding, but even He looked… tired. His voice shook the realms. "Luciver, you fool. You'll destroy us all!"
Luciver grinned, the devil child mimicking him. "That's the plan, old man."
God fought back, hurling bolts of light that obliterated hundreds of demons. But Hellneath's power was too much. The gardens withered. Angels fell, their wings burning. God's light flickered, and for the first time, He looked scared.
In Heaven's highest tower, God turned to Seraphiel, his most trusted angel. "I can't stop him alone," He admitted, his voice heavy. "Hellneath is draining me. We need… them."
Seraphiel's wings drooped. "Mortals? Are you sure?"
God nodded. "Five souls. Humans with prophet blood. They're our last hope."
Far below, the war raged. Luciver's army tore through Heaven, led by Baekho's doll. The devil child watched, whispering, "This is just the beginning."
On Earth, five teens slept, unaware that their lives were about to change. The war for creation had begun, and they were its only chance.