They thought it would be beautiful.
A flash of light.
A soundless trumpet.
And then…
silence.
Across cities, deserts, and oceans — people vanished mid-step. Mothers left behind strollers. Soldiers dropped weapons. Children stared upward as fathers disappeared in the middle of bedtime stories.
There were no screams. No earthquakes. No fire.
Just absence.
A blink — and they were gone. The "chosen." The "pure." The "worthy."
Everything humanity prayed for… had finally come.
But no one expected what followed.
The skies didn't open to reveal heaven — they cracked like glass, leaking shadows that bled into the world.
Mountains wept molten tears. The moon fractured. The sun flickered, as if uncertain whether it should keep watching.
And then the screams came.
From below.
They weren't of the dead — they were older. Hungrier.
Demons.
---
The Holy War had begun.
But not for Earth.
Around it.
Heaven and Hell prepared for the final battle — Armageddon — and Earth?
It was just a battleground, discarded and condemned.
The angels turned away.
The demons came forward.
And humanity… was forgotten.
---
So they did what they always did.
They adapted.
They tore open hellspawn. Studied infernal tissue. Forged weapons from bone and cursed jet cores.
From that ruin, the first Inferno Drive was born.
A metal gauntlet mounted on the arm.
Fueled by rage, fed by blood.
It gave humanity a fighting chance.
But even that… wasn't enough.
---
And then she fell.
Not from a building.
Not from a shuttle.
From the sky — burning, glowing, bleeding starlight.
Her wings were broken.
Her voice — gone.
Her eyes shimmered like galaxies left behind.
They found her in a crater near what used to be the capital of Zion.
And for the first time in years… the world went still.
She didn't speak. She didn't run.
She simply existed — a question wrapped in skin and light.
They called her Elyra.
No one knew if she was sent to punish them… or save them.
---
Months passed.
And quietly, in secret, she gave birth to twins.
No one knew how.
No one asked.
The bloodline of humanity.
The flame of demons.
The grace of something long forgotten.
One child was silent — with eyes like dying stars.
The other cried — and the flame he released turned the snow to ash.
They were not normal.
They were not safe.
And they were never meant to exist.
---
But under the ruins of a once-holy cathedral…
as ash fell like snow…
a woman held her newborn sons close, whispering:
> "I'm sorry… but you'll never know peace. Only purpose."
[End of Chapter 1]