The night after the battle was too quiet.
Smoke still curled from ruined buildings, and the scent of scorched flesh clung to every breeze. Craterhold had survived, but it was no longer whole.
The boys sat in the remnants of the old Ministry chapel, its stained glass shattered, its holy relics broken. Candles flickered around them. A silence that had weight.
Daiki clenched his sword, eyes fixed on the floor.
"The High Seer... he sold us out."
Ren nodded, guilt painted across his face like ash.
"He believed he was saving the world. But he's the one bringing it to its knees."
Icarus sat on a broken pillar, bandaging his arm.
"That bastard let demons in just to test if we were 'worthy.' And people wonder why demons exist. Humans do the devils' work just fine."
"So what now?" Haru muttered, loading his pistols with fresh cores. "We run?"
Ren stood. "No. We burn the roots."
Word of the High Seer's betrayal spread like plague. The Ministry was split. Some refused to believe it. Others whispered that the Vatican had infiltrated their holy walls long ago.
Archbishop Lucien, a high-ranking official known for his iron faith, stood in the war chamber, his voice sharp:
"The Four are unstable. The prophecy is too vague. They must be placed under protection—and surveillance."
Commander Mirai, a battle-hardened field general, slammed her fist on the table.
"You mean caged. That's what you want."
Lucien's lip curled. "I want what is necessary. Do you truly believe these boys will remain loyal if the world continues to betray them?"
The Council descended into arguments, politics dripping from every word. Outside, the real war continued.
Far beyond Craterhold, in the hidden Vatican citadel, cloaked priests gathered around a glowing altar.
The voice of Cardinal Seraphiel echoed like a sermon of death:
"Zahakel was but the first. The Abyssal Gate quivers. Soon, the others will rise."
He turned toward a black coffin, sealed with chains and sacred glyphs.
"And when the true Demon King awakens, only the Vatican shall wield the blade capable of severing fate."
Beside him stood Eva Althune, a Vatican exorcist raised in silence, trained in killing gods and saints alike. Her eyes were silver as moonlight. Her next mission: hunt down the Four and ensure they never unite with the relic known as God's Thread—an ancient weapon said to awaken only to true heirs of salvation… or destruction.
The Boys in Exile
The boys left Craterhold by nightfall, knowing the Ministry could no longer be trusted.
They crossed old bridges of moss-covered metal, through forests filled with forgotten tech—ancient drones, broken satellites, and towers now crawling with vines. The world was a graveyard of civilizations. History lost in rust.
"Was this world ever sane?" Haru asked, staring at the glowing remnants of a fallen satellite now worshipped by locals as a 'Sky Spirit.'
Icarus chuckled. "Humans find gods in anything that falls from above."
Ren, always watching, whispered,
"I saw a child possessed. Not a full demon. Just… touched by one. And no one helped her. They feared her. Is that the kind of world we're fighting to protect?"
Daiki said nothing. But inside, a storm raged.
The Demon City
In the next town—Yehmar—the boys witnessed something they'd never expected.
Demons… walking among humans.
Not openly. But there were signs: merchants with inhuman eyes, priests with voices that sang in dead tongues, guards with too-sharp smiles.
The mayor, a young man named Asterion, greeted them warmly. Too warmly.
"We don't believe in the old wars here," he said. "We believe in co-existence. Harmony."
But the truth was a cage hidden beneath silk.
At night, the town was a hunting ground. The humans were offerings, sacrifices in exchange for protection from greater demons.
And the worst part?
The Ministry knew.
They allowed Yehmar to exist. As long as it kept the bigger threats away from the holy cities.
"We're not soldiers anymore," Daiki said, blade drawn in a quiet alley. "We're ghosts. And it's time we start haunting the right people."
The boys struck at nightfall. They cut through the demon guards, uncovered the catacombs, and freed the enslaved.
The mayor screamed, begging mercy. Ren stood over him, fury in his voice:
"You wore the mask of peace. But you were feeding your own people to monsters."
"I spared lives!" Asterion wept. "You'll kill them all!"
"Better to fight monsters than become one," Daiki whispered—and turned away.
Icarus collapsed the tunnel behind them.
They left Yehmar in flames—not as tyrants, but as a warning. The age of compromise was over.