Darkness churned.
A gate—vast, jagged, and ancient—trembled in the void. Chains once forged in divine fire snapped like twigs under pressure that should not exist. From the cracks, things slithered. Crawled. Roared. Demons of every shape and size poured into the mortal realm, driven by hunger, rage, and something worse—purpose.
The hell gate was breaking.
Flashes of these visions—shards of chaotic imagery—exploded behind Samuel's and Danny's eyes. They didn't just see the hell gate breaking. They felt it. Their minds were flooded with fragments: distorted faces howling, cities shrouded in red mist, sigils scorched into flesh, clawed hands breaching the veil between realms.
Then came the pain.
Samuel and Danny screamed, crouched on the floor, their hands clutching their heads as if to hold in their sanity. The pain wasn't just physical—it was metaphysical. Something was embedding itself into them, like code into flesh.
Then—
Silence.
Then a voice.
Old. Powerful. Not male. Not female. Something timeless. Something that didn't speak with sound, but with truth.
"Chosen of the King of Hell... Bearers of the Hell's Order... You who have taken the path…"
The voice echoed within their skulls—not as words, but as law.
"Demons have broken free. The gate is fractured. Your fate is sealed. Your only escape is through conquest. Capture and banish them—one by one—and your reward shall be strength beyond mortal comprehension. You will evolve. Heal. Ascend. And be entitled to special privileges in the Underworld after your demise."
Samuel's breath hitched. The pain hadn't vanished—it had merely focused.
"With each demon you purge, you will grow. With each victory, your stats will progress. Strength. Endurance. Agility. Resistance. Learn to fight—or perish."
Images flooded their minds: tables, symbols, colored tiers. A ranking system—modern. Understandable.
"Demon categories have been reorganized based on your world's logic. From F-Class to SSS-Class. Be warned—power does not equal predictability. The strong may hide in plain sight. The weak may bite harder than expected."
A pulsing HUD materialized in Samuel's and Danny's vision. It shimmered in the air for a moment, then faded—burned into their subconscious.
Samuel: Class – Banisher
Danny: Class – Attacker
Danny gasped. "Dude—I—I see something. It's like a freakin' game menu in my brain."
Samuel blinked hard. "Same here... but it's not just visuals. I know it. Like... how to use it."
And it wasn't just that. Something else clicked into place—a mental channel. A tether.
Samuel suddenly knew what Danny was thinking—panic, confusion, excitement. Danny's eyes widened.
"Wait... can you hear me?" Danny's voice hadn't moved, but Samuel heard it—in his mind.
Samuel's jaw tightened. "Oh hell no."
"OH HELL YES," Danny's thought screamed gleefully.
Maya stepped forward, reading their expressions before they spoke. "It's the Hell's Order. You're linked now. Telepathically. You'll be able to coordinate in battle, even if you're apart."
Danny grinned, pointing at Samuel. "You're so screwed."
Samuel groaned. "I already regret this."
Maya's tone shifted, calm but urgent. "Samuel, as a Banisher, you're responsible for the final execution of demon banishment. Danny, as an Attacker, you'll control and suppress the demon's physical form. Your bodies will adapt—but that doesn't make you invincible."
Danny flexed instinctively. "So... what, I punch demons in the face now?"
Maya didn't smile. "If you live long enough, yeah."
Their bracelets pulsed once with a soft glow. They could feel it now—inside them. Energy. Power. Connection.
"What about you?" Danny asked.
Maya tilted her head. "In your terms... I think I'm the Commander. I lead the demon banishing operations."
Both guys exchanged a glance. Can we really trust this amnesiac ghost?
Maya narrowed her eyes. "And FYI, I can hear your thoughts too. Loud and clear."
"Great," Samuel muttered. "I really need to learn thought privacy."
He glanced at Danny. "Guess we're kinda upgraded into some sort of supernatural superheroes now."
Danny nodded. "Yeah… and if we mess up, it's game over. For everyone." Danny try remain practical despite all the dream-like thing happening.
Maya crossed her arms, her tone sharpening. "Focus now. I want you both to close your eyes and think about the demon you banished the other day."
Danny and Samuel exchanged a look—but obeyed.
Suddenly, like a HUD projection inside their minds, a profile formed:
Category 8. Pet Demon – The Bindling
Appearance: Adapts into whatever emotional role the victim craves—a puppy, child, plush toy, imaginary friend, loyal lover. Its smile never fades.
Manifestation Behavior: Does not possess. Instead, forms a spiritual contract and physically manifests after emotional bonding. Acts as a loyal companion—but becomes jealous, obsessive, and dangerous if neglected.
Vibe: Adorably toxic. Provides whatever the owner desires… then takes everything.
Weakness: Animal excretions like urine, garlic, and emotional threats using its personal belongings.
"What you're seeing," Maya explained, "is data on the demon you banished. Each time we detect one, you can think about it and the Hell Order will give you a briefing."
Danny's eyes snapped open.
"Damn it, Samuel! It says animal urine! Did you treat me like an animal that day?!"
Samuel winced. "No, man. I—I swear, I only read the 'urine' part. We were rushing! My eyes were rolling all over. I probably missed the context!"
"We could've just used garlic?! You jerked me into pissing in a bottle!"
Danny was about to tackle Samuel when—BOOM.
The temperature in the room spiked. The air thickened. Maya's angelic glow vanished.
Her hair erupted into flames. Her eyes turned molten red, glowing with fury. The air around her sizzled.
"Speaking of that…" Maya's voice dropped an octave. It echoed—layered, booming, ancient, and absolutely pissed. "I think you both owe me a damn good explanation."
"I didn't realize it at the time… but after I returned to the Hell Order, I saw everything. I heard your conversation. Every word. Every insult. Every part of that—ritual."
Her flaming hair snapped like angry whips.
"YOU SPLASHED ME—ME!—WITH THAT FOUL, STINKING URINE?! DESPICABLE!"
Samuel opened his mouth, but no words came.
"AND YOU!" she pointed straight at him. "You even joked about it! Said I was 'baptized in Danny's holy water'—LIKE IT WAS A DAMN JOKE?!"
Before either of them could respond, Maya's hands shot out—grabbing them both by the neck and lifting them clean off the ground like rag dolls.
Their feet dangled in the air, kicking helplessly.
The Be Continue.