There was fire.
That was the first thing Caleb saw.
---
Flames roared around him, devouring everything in sight. Houses crumbled. Wood snapped and collapsed into glowing embers. The air burned his lungs, thick with smoke and heat.
The sky above wasn't a sky anymore.
It was red.
Alive.
Watching.
---
Caleb stood there.
Small.
Helpless.
---
"Caleb…"
A voice.
Soft.
Familiar.
---
He turned.
---
There she was.
---
His mother.
---
Untouched by the flames, standing in the middle of chaos as if the fire itself refused to reach her. Her eyes were warm, filled with something he hadn't seen in so long.
Peace.
---
"Caleb… my son…"
Her voice wrapped around him, gentle.
"You'll live on."
---
His lips trembled.
"…mom…?"
---
He reached out.
His hand—small, trembling—lifting slowly toward her.
---
She didn't move away.
Instead, she bent slightly, guiding his hand to her face.
---
Her skin felt warm.
Real.
---
She smiled.
Soft.
Beautiful.
---
For a moment—
The fire disappeared.
The screams vanished.
The world… calmed.
---
Then—
Something broke.
---
A shadow tore through the flames.
---
A man.
---
Sent flying.
---
He crashed into the ground nearby, his body skidding across burning debris.
The impact shook the ground.
---
Caleb flinched.
---
His mother's expression changed.
Not fear.
Not panic.
---
Urgency.
---
"Caleb…"
Her voice sharpened.
---
"You need to run."
---
His eyes widened.
"…what?"
---
"Run, Caleb."
---
The flames grew louder.
Closer.
---
"Don't look back."
---
Tears filled his eyes instantly.
"…but—"
---
"RUN!"
---
Her voice echoed.
Stronger than the fire.
---
Caleb's body moved before his mind could catch up.
---
He turned.
---
And ran.
---
His small legs struggled against the uneven ground, stepping over broken wood, burning rubble, shadows that twisted and reached for him.
---
Behind him—
Her voice.
---
"Caleb!"
---
He clenched his fists.
Tears streamed down his face.
---
"Caleb!"
---
He wanted to stop.
To turn.
To go back.
---
"Caleb!"
---
But he didn't.
---
Because she told him not to.
---
"Run…!"
---
The voice faded.
---
The fire swallowed everything.
---
And then—
---
Darkness.
---
Silence.
---
---
Caleb's eyes snapped open.
---
His body jerked slightly.
His breath came out uneven.
---
"…huh…?"
---
The world was different.
Cold.
Still.
---
No fire.
No screams.
---
Just—
Darkness.
---
He blinked slowly.
Trying to adjust.
---
A faint glow surrounded him.
Soft.
Golden.
---
He looked down.
---
Chains.
---
Wrapped around his body.
---
Not ordinary chains.
---
They were golden.
Each link engraved with strange symbols that pulsed faintly, casting light into the dark room.
---
The glow illuminated the space just enough—
To reveal stone walls.
Cold.
Rough.
Ancient.
---
Caleb shifted slightly.
The chains tightened.
---
"…what… is this…?"
---
"Caleb."
---
A voice answered.
---
Calm.
Measured.
---
Caleb's head lifted.
---
A figure stood in front of him.
---
A man.
---
Blonde hair, slightly unkempt.
A short beard framing his jaw.
A scar ran across the bridge of his nose, cutting through his face like a mark of past battles.
---
His eyes—
Yellow.
Sharp.
Observant.
---
"Caleb…"
The man repeated.
---
"The anomaly."
---
Caleb's brows furrowed.
---
"…who are you…?"
His voice was hoarse.
---
"…and where am I…?"
---
The man didn't answer immediately.
He studied him.
Carefully.
---
Then—
He spoke.
---
"This…"
A slight pause.
---
"…is the Seventh Division of the Angelic Order."
---
The name echoed in the room.
---
"And I…"
He stepped forward slightly, the golden light reflecting in his eyes.
---
"…am the captain of this division."
---
Another pause.
---
"Jose Finnard."
---
The name settled into the silence.
---
Caleb stared at him.
Trying to process everything.
---
Angelic Order.
Chains.
Anomaly.
---
"…what do you want from me…?"
---
The chains pulsed faintly.
As if reacting to his voice.
---
Jose's gaze didn't waver.
---
"That depends."
---
A small pause.
---
"…on what you are."
---
---
Elsewhere — The Park
---
The night air was colder here.
Quieter.
---
Trees swayed gently, their shadows stretching across the ground like silent observers.
---
At the center—
Two figures stood.
---
Neigmon.
---
And Terry.
---
The horse demon's breathing was heavy.
Uneven.
---
Blood continued to drip from its missing arm, staining the grass beneath it.
---
Its body trembled.
Not just from injury.
---
But from something deeper.
---
Across from it—
Terry stood still.
---
Calm.
Unshaken.
---
His golden eyes reflected the faint moonlight.
Cold.
Focused.
---
"I wanted to ask you something."
---
His voice broke the silence.
---
Neigmon tensed.
---
"…what…?"
---
Terry tilted his head slightly.
---
"How come your other arm…"
A small pause.
---
"…hasn't regenerated?"
---
Silence.
---
Then—
---
"IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!"
---
Neigmon roared.
Its voice echoed through the park, disturbing the stillness.
---
But Terry didn't react.
Not even slightly.
---
He simply watched.
---
Observing.
---
Analyzing.
---
Neigmon's breathing grew heavier.
---
Inside—
Its thoughts raced.
---
It's because of him…
---
That boy…
---
That monster…
---
One of Lord Varkrul's abilities…
---
Its grip tightened over its wound.
---
Anything he devours…
---
Cannot regenerate…
---
Cannot heal…
---
Unless he allows it…
---
Fear crept deeper.
---
That boy…
---
He doesn't even know…
---
The power he holds…
---
Terry took a step forward.
---
The ground beneath his foot cracked slightly.
---
Golden particles began to gather once more.
---
Forming.
Shaping.
---
His sword.
---
The air grew heavier.
---
Because this time—
There was no interruption.
---
No escape.
---
Just judgment.
The night air in the park had turned sharp.
Cold.
Heavy.
---
Moonlight spilled across the broken ground, painting long shadows between the trees. The grass swayed faintly, stained with dark patches of blood.
At the center of it—
Two figures faced each other.
---
Terry stood still.
Unmoving.
Golden eyes locked forward.
---
Neigmon stood opposite him.
Breathing hard.
One arm missing.
Blood dripping steadily onto the ground.
---
"Well…" Terry spoke calmly, his voice cutting through the silence.
"…looks like I'll be fighting a one-armed demon."
A pause.
---
"I don't care one bit."
---
Before the words could even settle—
He moved.
---
Neigmon's instincts screamed.
It tried to react—
---
Too late.
---
A golden blade flashed in front of its face—
So close it felt the air split.
---
Neigmon jerked its body back just in time, the edge of the sword grazing past its neck.
---
"…!"
---
"Hoof Boost!"
---
Black energy wrapped around its legs—
And it dashed backward, creating distance in a blur of motion.
---
I can't fight an Angelic Order member… not now…
Its thoughts raced.
---
And this one… he looks—
---
Before the thought could finish—
---
Terry was already in front of it.
---
Swinging.
---
"…fast!"
---
Neigmon dropped low, ducking under the blade as it sliced through the air above.
---
But Terry didn't stop.
---
He twisted his wrist mid-motion—
Turning the slash downward.
---
The blade came crashing toward Neigmon's back—
---
"Hoof Cannon!"
---
A burst of black energy exploded upward, forcing Terry to shift back slightly.
---
The ground cracked beneath the impact.
Dust shot into the air.
---
Neigmon didn't hesitate.
---
It surged forward.
---
Its remaining arm blurred—
---
"Hoof Barrage!"
---
Punches rained down in rapid succession.
So fast—
It looked like multiple hooves striking at once.
---
The air trembled.
The ground cracked with every near impact.
---
But Terry—
Didn't panic.
---
He threw his sword upward.
---
Then moved.
---
Dodging.
---
Precise.
Minimal.
Effortless.
---
Each strike passed him by—
By inches.
---
Neigmon's eyes widened.
---
"…what…?"
---
Above them—
The sword spun.
---
Then—
It moved.
---
On its own.
---
Like it had a will.
---
It sliced downward from the sky—
A golden arc cutting through the air toward Neigmon's head.
---
Neigmon reacted instantly, twisting its body—
But the blade didn't stop.
---
It continued past—
Dragging across its back—
Moving—
Toward its neck.
---
At that exact moment—
---
Terry appeared.
---
Right beside it.
---
His hand caught the falling sword mid-motion.
---
And—
---
SLASHED.
---
"Flash Sever."
---
A clean, golden arc tore through the air.
---
Blood exploded outward.
---
Neigmon's eyes widened in shock—
---
Its head—
Almost gone.
---
It barely pulled back in time.
---
The cut stopped just short.
---
"…!"
---
Blood poured from its neck—
Then—
---
Started burning.
---
Golden energy lingered on the wound.
Crackling.
Burning.
---
Steam rose into the night air.
---
Neigmon staggered back.
Its body trembling.
---
Then—
Slowly—
---
Its flesh pulled together.
---
Regenerating.
---
But slower.
---
Painfully slower.
---
He's fast…
---
Too fast…
---
It's like he's teleporting…
---
Its breath grew heavier.
---
No…
---
No matter the cost…
---
I have to end this now.
---
Its remaining arm rose.
Energy gathering.
---
"Hoof Blast Barrage!"
---
Multiple black energy hooves formed in the air—
Then launched toward Terry.
---
The attacks tore through the ground, leaving massive hoof-shaped craters wherever they struck.
---
Terry moved.
---
Fast.
---
Dodging.
---
Cutting some apart mid-air with swift slashes.
---
The battlefield shook under the barrage.
---
Then—
Neigmon leaped.
---
High into the air.
---
The moonlight framed its body.
---
It raised its arm again.
---
"Hoof Cannon!"
---
A concentrated blast fired downward.
---
Terry vanished from its path.
---
Then—
He appeared.
---
Right below.
---
"Flash Sever."
---
The blade rose in a vertical arc—
Closing in—
---
"…!"
---
Neigmon reacted instantly.
---
"Hoof Cannon!"
---
It fired again—
This time—
Directly at the sword.
---
BOOM!
---
The impact knocked the blade out of Terry's hand.
---
The sword spun away—
Clattering across the ground.
---
Neigmon landed—
Breathing hard.
---
"I—"
---
Before it could finish—
---
Terry was already in front of it.
---
Hand extended.
---
He grabbed Neigmon's head.
---
And—
---
Smashed it.
---
Straight into a wall.
---
BOOM.
---
Cracks spread across the surface.
Debris fell.
---
Neigmon's vision blurred.
---
Then—
---
Golden particles gathered again.
---
In Terry's hand.
---
The sword reformed.
---
Sharp.
Clean.
---
Perfect.
---
Neigmon's body trembled.
---
"…I'm…"
A pause.
---
"…done for…"
---
Terry raised the blade.
---
No hesitation.
No emotion.
---
Just execution.
---
The sound echoed.
---
A clean—
---
Slice.
---
Blood splattered across the wall.
---
Then—
Silence.
---
---
Seventh Division — Outside the Interrogation Room
---
The hallway was quiet.
Dimly lit by golden lights embedded into the walls.
Symbols faintly glowing across every surface.
---
Lily stood near the wall.
Arms crossed lightly.
Thinking.
---
Dave leaned against the opposite side.
Casual.
Relaxed.
---
"…so," Dave started.
"…this anomaly…"
---
He smirked slightly.
---
"…is he gonna be a friend?"
A pause.
---
"…or a strong enemy?"
---
His grin widened.
---
"…either way…"
---
"I'm still gonna fight him."
---
Lily sighed softly.
---
"That's all you think about."
---
She glanced toward the door.
---
"…I'm more concerned something else… if this guy really has Varkrul's form, then he'll be extremely dangerous."
---
Inside the room—
Jose stood in front of Caleb, his sharp yellow eyes fixed on him.
"Caleb Sultan," he began, his voice calm but heavy, "your life is in my hands now."
The golden chains around Caleb faintly glowed.
"I will ask you questions… and you will answer them truthfully."
He stepped closer.
"And if I find out you are a real demon… or some kind of spy…"
A brief pause.
"Then your demise is certain."
---
Caleb stared at him, sweat forming slightly on his face.
"…oh crap…"
He swallowed.
"…these people are insane."
To be continued…