The cool air and morning dew decorated a beautiful dawn in Kalibarus village. Farmers carried their hoes, some relaxed while sipping coffee and eating boiled cassava, while others swept their yards. They all began their day in peace and calm.
From a distance, someone could be seen carrying a fishing rod. The man wore a striped surjan shirt, black pants, and sandals with mud caked on the soles.
One of the villagers: "Hey, Mas Arga, where are you heading?"
Arga: "Going fishing, while it's still cool."
Along the way, Arga was often greeted by many villagers, as if they had known him for ages. The village girls couldn't help but steal glances at him. Well, it made sense. With his handsome face, he often made women fall for him.
One of the women (teasing tone): "Heeey~ Mas Arga, where are you going~?"
Arga (walking): "Fishing. Wanna come along?"
The woman (shyly): "No... unless you're asking me to marry you. Ahhhh!"
Arga (in his mind): "What's up with this girl?!"
After walking a long stretch of asphalt road, he finally arrived at his fishing spot. It was quite beautiful, with many trees and grass surrounding the lake. The scent of greenery filled the air, and without even looking closely, fish could be seen swimming here and there.
Just as he was about to sit down, he noticed a strange dark red symbol. It was shaped like a star, with additional writing he couldn't understand. And then, out of nowhere, a foul smell came from the direction of the symbol.
Arga: "Don't tell me this place has turned into some cult spot too." (He turns to leave) "Just you wait, you bastards! The nerve you've got messing with my life."
...
The air carried a quiet warning of incoming rain, while the chirping of crickets wrapped the silence like a thin veil.
At a time like this, Arga returned to his fishing spot.
The place with the strange star symbol carved into the ground.
He stared at it.
Arga:Will they come back here again…?
Right as the thought crossed his mind, four figures approached.
Quickly.
Arga slipped into the bushes, blending himself with the shadows.
He wanted to know what was going on… why his favorite fishing spot had turned into a ritual site.
The four of them stopped just outside the star symbol.
One of them poured a powder from a small pouch onto it… then began chanting words Arga couldn't understand.
Arga (thinking):Sounds like he's gargling or something…
After finishing, they faced each other, nodded… and left.
Arga waited until they were far enough away.
Once they were gone, Arga stepped closer.
The symbol had changed.
From a dark red… to black.
And slowly… it began to fade away.
Curiosity pulled him again.
He followed the four figures, who were still visible in the distance.
Strangely, no one else seemed to notice them.
Arga moved carefully, avoiding being seen by anyone.
After walking quite far, he arrived at an old hut.
A sharp, suffocating smell hit his nose.
Rot… mixed with sulfur.
He peeked inside.
Empty.
Arga stepped in anyway.
Nothing.
Completely empty… like he came to the wrong place.
But deep down, he knew… this was it.
He searched every corner until he found something strange.
A door… built into the floor.
He opened it.
A staircase leading downward.
Below, the walls were covered in strange symbols he couldn't understand.
Except one.
A childish drawing.
An explosion… followed by an equal sign… leading to happiness.
Arga (murmuring):…what the hell is this place…
It looked like everything here was man-made.
No way an old hut had something like this hidden underneath.
He walked through a corridor and opened a door.
Inside was a room filled with bookshelves… like a library.
Arga stepped in and picked one book.
He began reading.
Written inside:
Praise be to God, who has granted us the chance and grace to carry out this mission.
But beneath the text…
A drawing of a demon, sitting on a throne.
Arga:Yeah… something's definitely wrong with these people.
He flipped the pages.
He found a story.
The story of a Demon King.
The demon promised:
Whoever could take his sword… would become the next king.
The sword was hidden in a castle in Hell.
But only one person could enter.
He flipped again.
The sword was called:
The King's Blade
The Blade of Power
The Holy Blade
A weapon capable of killing even heavenly beings… without exception.
Because of how dangerous it was, the angels forged their own weapon of equal strength.
Fearing rebellion, the angels descended…
War broke out.
The Demon King was slain.
After that war, demons no longer dared to disturb the heavens.
But one among them refused to accept defeat.
The conflict was eventually calmed by the king's guardian…
Regh.
He promised:
One day… we will take revenge.
After that, Regh returned to the deepest layer of Hell.
And was never heard from again.
At the very end, one line remained:
They fear we will rebel…
when in truth, we were created to rebel.
Arga frowned.
Arga:What kind of story is this…? Did they just make this up…?
But one thing was clear.
There had been a war… between angels and demons.
Just as he was about to keep reading—
Footsteps.
From above.
???:Hey! How many times do I have to say it? Close it after you come in!
Arga panicked.
He ran and hid beneath the stairs.
Arga (whispering):Damn it… I brought the book with me…
The footsteps came closer.
One of the cult members descended, removing his hood.
Bald.
Wrinkled.
Muttering to himself about disobedient members.
Arga stayed still.
Waited.
Then… he made his move.
He climbed back up—
Only to be greeted by a group of cult members.
Panic.
He punched one of them and ran.
Fast.
But suddenly—
His legs stopped.
Like chains wrapped around them.
He looked down.
His legs were bound… by something like magic.
He was dragged back.
Arga threw the book away and tried to resist.
But it was useless.
He was lifted into the air.
Unable to move.
???:How dare you come here…
Another voice whispered:
???:…this could be useful.
Arga's heart raced.
He didn't know what they were about to do.
But he knew one thing—
This was bad.
They began chanting.
Together.
A massive, strange symbol appeared beneath Arga's feet.
He struggled.
Too late.
The chant was complete.
The ground beneath him split open.
A deep, unnatural sound echoed.
Red clouds… swirling below.
Arga looked at them—
And then—
He fell.