The air in the room was heavy. Still. A candle flickered beside a weathered photograph—Obil's last tether to what once was. His wife's eyes, kind and worn. His child's smile, pure and untouched by the world's cruelty.
He stared at them not with nostalgia, but with a storm brewing behind his eyes. A thousand memories. A thousand regrets. And the chaos eating him from within.
A robed cultist stood nearby, hesitant.
"My lord… shall we send men with you?"
Obil didn't turn.
"No."
"But—"
"This one is personal," he said softly, his voice cracking like ice.
He looked one last time at the photograph. His fingers brushed over it, gently. A whisper to ghosts long gone.
And then he vanished into the dark.
---
**3:50 AM**
**Haven's Rise Orphanage**
The silence of the early morning was broken only by the ticking of a hallway clock. Obil materialized near the back exit, cloaked in shadow. His steps were soundless, as if even the floor feared to betray his presence.
He moved with purpose, winding through the halls until he reached the stairs. Every breath in the building was still—except his.
He climbed, eyes locked on the faint glow spilling from under a door: *Evelin's room.*
Inside, the girl slept curled beneath a blanket, a small bunny plush clutched tightly to her chest. She mumbled softly in her sleep, unaware of the abyss drawing closer.
Obil entered without a sound.
But he wasn't alone.
A voice, low and steady, cut through the air like steel.
"You didn't sense me, huh?"
Obil stopped. His head turned slightly, enough to see him—Vale, leaning against the wall beside the door, a pistol leveled at Obil's head.
"You're still not that familiar with your power," Vale continued. "Or you would've known I was here the whole time."
Obil's face darkened.
"Vale…"
The gun didn't waver. "Why did you betray us?"
---
Down the hall, Avile jolted upright in his bed. His phone buzzed—**a message from Vale**.
> *Obil is here.*
His stomach sank.
He bolted upstairs, barefoot and heart racing. When he reached Evelin's door, he saw the scene—Vale with his gun drawn, Obil by Evelin's bed, and the child still sleeping peacefully.
"You do know bullets won't hurt me," Obil said casually, glancing at the barrel.
Vale's grip didn't loosen. "That's not the answer obil!."
Avile stepped forward. "Obil. We can still talk. You don't have to do this. Please—whatever it is, whatever pain you carry—we can face it together."
Obil stared at him for a long time. Then, a hollow smile.
"There's still time, huh?" he echoed. "Funny… would you still say that if you knew what I've done?"
Vale's voice shook. "We know about the bar. I'll clean it up. Just talk to us—"
Obil laughed, a broken, tired sound.
"I burned the orphanages," he said. "Every last one. And I slaughtered the children inside."
The silence that followed was deafening.
Avile's face full of terror as he came to knew obil killed those children and burned the orphanages.
Vale's face collapsed.
The world fell away for a second. His finger moved on instinct.
*BANG! BANG! BANG!*
Evelin shot up from her bed with a scream, clutching her bunny tight, eyes wide and soaked with terror.
All eight bullets stopped mid-air. They hung for a heartbeat, then fell to the floor like pebbles.
Obil looked down at her—then back to them.
Avile's chest burned.
He lunged.
The fight erupted.
---
Avile threw the first punch, aiming for Obil's jaw. Obil deflected, twisting his arm and driving a knee into Avile's ribs. Air left his lungs in a grunt, but he didn't stop. He spun, elbow striking Obil's temple.
Vale joined instantly, swinging the pistol like a club. Obil ducked under it, delivering a punishing blow to Vale's stomach, then grabbing his collar and tossing him across the room. Vale slammed into a cabinet with a loud *crack.*
Avile came again, fists blazing, fueled by desperation. His movements were raw, instinctive—but with flashes of something deeper. Something older. He wasn't fighting like a man. He was fighting like a warrior reborn.
Their fists collided, arms locked. Avile headbutted him, dizzying them both. He pressed the attack, body aching, lungs on fire. His strikes were fast, reckless—but fueled by love, by fury, by something that had been sleeping inside him for lifetimes.
Still, Obil didn't feel threatened. He was too strong. Too cold.
Vale crawled back in, blood dripping from his mouth. Together, they pushed again—but Obil caught Avile's arm mid-punch and slammed him into the ground.
Then Vale. A punch to the jaw, a knee to the spine. Both of them were down.
The sound of the fight—gunshots, screaming—had awakened the entire orphanage.
Amelia had already been running. When she reached the room, she saw her worst nightmare:
Avile on the ground, groaning in pain. Vale bleeding. Evelin crying uncontrollably in the corner.
And Obil—looming over them all like a dark god.
Without thinking, she charged him with a kitchen knife.
Obil, now tired and irritated, sidestepped.
"I don't want to kill you."
She charged again, swinging with everything she had.
He sighed—and drew his blade.
One clean slash.
*Thud.*
Her arm hit the floor.
A silence like no other followed.
She screamed, collapsed beside it, blood pouring. Evelin's cry turned into a wail, the sound of innocence shattering.
---
**Avile's Pain – Memory Flash**
Avile saw her fall—and something inside him *broke.*
His ears rang. His chest tightened. He couldn't breathe.
Images flooded him:
- Amelia laughing beside him during lunch shifts.
- Her scolding him gently when he forgot to clean the storeroom.
- Her hand brushing his by accident—and the silence after.
- Her smile.
- Her hope.
And now—her scream.
He grabbed the fallen knife. His fingers shook—but his soul surged.
He saw flashes of who he used to be. A being of divine power. Of justice. Of humility.
And he charged.
Obil met him, blade raised.
Steel clashed with steel.
Avile slashed low. Obil parried, countering with a quick thrust. Avile twisted, blocking with the side of the knife, pushing forward. His footwork changed—sharper, more fluid. A divine instinct guiding his mortal form.
Obil narrowed his eyes. Concentrating
Avile's eyes burned with something human. And holy.
He fought like a man with nothing left to lose.
Their blades sparked in the dim room, blows echoing like thunder.
Obil struck high. Avile ducked, rolled, stabbed forward—but Obil twisted, slamming the hilt of his blade into Avile's shoulder.
Pain flared—but Avile didn't fall.
Obil moved like a phantom—his point-blade flashing in the dim light, clothes fluttering as if the air bent to his presence. But Avile didn't retreat. He gripped the worn kitchen knife like it was a relic of purpose, knuckles white, sweat dripping down his brow.
Obil struck first, slicing low. Avile jumped back, barely dodging the arc of cold steel, then countered with a horizontal slash—short, fast, desperate. Metal rang against metal as Obil twisted his blade up, catching Avile's wrist and twisting his arm. Avile grunted and spun away, bringing the butt of the knife down toward Obil's temple. Obil ducked, elbowed him in the ribs, and Avile stumbled, coughing.
"You're not even trained in this life," Obil said.
"And yet here I am," Avile spat.
Obil lunged again. A clean thrust—meant to impale.
Avile shifted sideways, pain lancing through his side from earlier hits. He barely avoided being skewered and responded with a vicious backhand slice toward Obil's face. The blade kissed skin—just a graze across the cheek—but it *bled*, and that was enough.
Then came the thunder of rushing footsteps.
"AVILE!"
Vale stormed in, rage in his eyes, teeth bared. No weapon—just his fists and centuries of divine memory crackling like lightning behind his every movement.
Obil turned just in time for Vale's fist to crash into his jaw.
The sound echoed through the orphanage hall. Obil staggered. Vale didn't pause—he followed up with a gut punch, then another to Obil's temple, snarling like a man possessed. Obil blocked the next strike and shoved him back with a forearm, but Vale didn't go far.
Now it was two-on-one.
Obil's movements became sharper. More precise. His blade flicked out like a viper, forcing Vale to duck as it whooshed past his neck. Avile came in from behind, knife aimed for Obil's ribs—but Obil turned and parried, steel screeching against steel. His foot shot out, slamming into Avile's chest and launching him into a dresser, which shattered under the impact.
But Vale was already there.
A flying knee into Obil's gut. A downward elbow to the back of his neck.
Obil's knees bent under the hits, but he rolled away and slashed low. Vale leapt over it, swinging down with a hammer-fist—but Obil blocked, and they grappled mid-motion.
They crashed into a bookshelf. Wood splintered. Books flew.
Obil grabbed Vale's throat, lifting him with raw strength—but Vale headbutted him, hard. Obil dropped him, dazed, and Vale landed a brutal uppercut that sent Obil crashing into the far wall.
Avile rejoined, limping slightly, but eyes focused. Blood dripped from a cut on his lip. His knife was held backward now, soldier-style. "We finish this. Together."
Obil rose slowly. Breathing heavy. His blade trembled in his hand.
He lunged—at both of them.
What followed was chaos sculpted into dance.
Steel clashed with fury. Avile ducked, rolled, slashed. Vale kicked, blocked, jabbed, and threw knees. Obil was fast, a whirlwind of death—but the two Archons, drawing on every *echo* of who they used to be, began pushing him back.
Avile got a deep cut in on Obil's thigh.
Vale slammed an elbow into his ribs, cracking something.
Obil howled in frustration. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.
They were winning.
For the first time in a fight, Obil faltered.
His eyes flicked toward Evelin, crying .Then to the doorway. Then—he locked eyes with Avile.
"You *still* don't understand," he growled, staggering. "Even now, you think you can defeat me."
Vale came at him again, fists raised.
Obil raised his free hand.
And the *air changed*.
It was *slight*, *brief*, but unmistakable.
**Divine presence.**
The floor beneath Vale and Avile shuddered as the weight of godhood pressed down like a mountain. The taste of ash coated their tongues. Their knees buckled.
Avile collapsed, wheezing.
Vale dropped to all fours, breath caught in his throat, muscles shaking under the pressure.
Obil stood tall, glowing faintly, blood dripping from his temple and mouth. In an instant all his injuries healed. His chest heaved with exhaustion—but his stance was firm.
"I didn't want to use it," he said softly, regret and pride blending in his tone. "But you left me no choice."
The weight of *divinity* crushed the room like a vice.
Avile gasped, struggling to lift even his head. His mind, once filled with clarity from past lives, now reeled beneath the storm of power Obil had unleashed. It wasn't just strength—it was *judgment*, cold and ancient. His legs trembled, and he collapsed onto his knees.
Avile (pained): "You think destruction will solve your pain, Obil? That it will bring you peace? It only feeds the void you've created."
Obil (laughing bitterly): "Peace? The world is a lie, Avile. There's no peace for us—only power."
Vale (with determination): "I will stop you, no matter the cost."
Vale didn't fall immediately.
Driven by *fury* and the sting of *betrayal*, he rose against the crushing force, pushing himself upright one limb at a time. His breath came ragged, chest heaving, veins bulging in his neck.
"You…" he growled through clenched teeth, "…*used to be one of us*."
Obil looked at him, surprised—if only for a moment.
And in that moment of hesitation, Vale charged.
A scream tore from his lungs. The floor cracked beneath his feet as he threw a punch straight at Obil's face—but it never landed.
A pulse of divine energy lashed out from Obil's body.
Vale was launched backward like a ragdoll. The floor shattered beneath him as he *fell through*, crashing down to the ground floor in an eruption of *dust and splintered wood*.
"VALE!" Avile cried, his voice hoarse and breaking.
Below, there was screaming.
Children. Whimpering. Crying.
Debris was everywhere. Concrete blocks, cracked wooden beams.
Vale's body lay twisted in the wreckage, blood pooling beneath him. His legs… *ruined*. Shattered bones pierced his skin. But even crushed under debris, his arms were outstretched, *shielding two terrified children beneath him*.
He had broken the fall with his own body to save them.
"Don't cry…" Vale whispered to them, blood running from his mouth. "You're… safe…"
But his scream echoed a second later as the pain surged back, tearing through his nerves.
Upstairs, Avile stared through the hole in the floor, his eyes wide with horror.
And then… something in him *snapped*.
He roared and lunged at Obil, knife in hand.
Obil turned, meeting the charge. "You can't kill me, dammit! Why are you so *persistent*?!"
Their blades met—steel against steel, rage against despair.
But Obil was faster. Cleaner. More experienced.
He *sidestepped* Avile's thrust and in one brutal motion, he *sliced through Avile's arm*. Flesh and tendon gave way. Blood sprayed across the walls.
Avile screamed.
Obil didn't stop—he *grabbed the kitchen knife* from Avile's other hand and *slammed it into Avile's gut* with a savage twist. "Stay down," he growled.
Avile dropped to the ground, gasping, blood pouring from his stomach, the room spinning. But his eyes didn't shut. He watched—desperate, helpless.
Obil turned.
Evelin crying amidst the chaos. Her bunny clutched to her chest, she sat in a corner of the bed, trembling, tears pouring down her cheeks.
"Y-you're a *demon*…" she cried.
Obil froze.
And then—*Amelia.*
She came stumbling through the door. Her hand *gripping Obil's leg* with all the strength she had left.
Her face was pale, her body shaking—but her eyes burned with *defiance*.
Obil looked down.
She didn't even hesitate.
"I won't… let you… touch her…" she whispered.
Without a word, Obil *drove his blade down*.
It pierced her chest.
She choked, eyes wide, blood bubbling from her mouth. Her hand slipped from his leg.
Obil stood there, frozen in the aftermath of Amelia's collapse, his form an image of utter horror. Blood dripped from the edge of his blade, splattering across his dark, torn clothing and staining his hands, but it was his face that left the most haunting impression. His once-sharp features were now contorted, a mask of rage and coldness, as crimson streaks ran down his cheeks like a grotesque mockery of tears. His eyes, once a glimmering shade of something human, now appeared almost hollow, reflecting nothing but the emptiness of a soul long forsaken. His pale skin, once smooth, was marred with smears of blood and the sweat of his exertion, his appearance less like a man and more like something that had crawled out from the very pits of hell.
The way he stood, poised and unnervingly still, only added to the terror. There was no remorse in his gaze, no recognition of the destruction he had wrought; it was as if he had become something entirely inhuman—something that shouldn't have been born into the world of humans at all. A beast disguised as a man, a demon whose presence alone seemed to twist the air around him, suffocating the space with a palpable darkness.
Obil was no longer just a fallen being. He was the embodiment of something far worse, a creature so far removed from any divine form that he had become unrecognizable, even to himself. The blood staining his body only served as a grotesque seal of his transformation, marking the point where his humanity had slipped completely through his fingers. He wasn't a man anymore. He was something monstrous. Something that was never meant to exist.
Evelin *screamed*, her voice shrill with horror, "*YOU'RE A MONSTER!*"
From the hallway, *Sophia* and the other careworkers came running—one dialing the police, others rushing to stop Obil.
But he was done holding back.
He turned—and *cut them down without hesitation*.
Heads rolled. Limbs fell. The walls were painted in crimson.
Obil looking at avile still breathing Obil (with a sneer): "Still clinging to this life? You never understood, Avile. You never will. This world was never meant for us to save. You were always too weak,too foolish to see it."
Silence came next, broken only by Evelin's sobs.Obil approached her.
She tried to crawl away, but there was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.
He grabbed her by the arm.
"Let me go!" she screamed.
And in a final flash of light, Obil and Evelin *vanished*.
The room fell to silence.
Avile, barely conscious, reached out with his only remaining arm… toward Amelia's body.
"…no… no…"
And then darkness took him.