Chapter Title: The Chains of Deception and the Light of War
The stone ritual chamber echoed with the solemn hum of demonic incantations. Dark flames flickered from each corner of the circle, casting ominous shadows across the chamber walls. Clader's body was motionless at the heart of the formation, arms spread wide, his eyes fluttering beneath closed lids. Across from him, Metro lay unconscious, bound in glowing chains forged from ancient curses and the blood of the condemned.
Standing just beyond the sigil, Caleb's eyes glowed crimson as he stepped forward, his lips curling into a sinister smile. Behind him, the nine High-Rank Demons gathered, cloaked in flowing black garments stitched with markings older than language itself. Their voices thundered through the air as they chanted in unison—arcane syllables warped with hatred and greed.
From the shadows, one of the twin demons emerged, dragging Clader's limp body toward the center. He gently placed him beside Metro, then turned and melted back into the darkness without a word. Caleb approached, crouching down beside Clader.
"Your time of service is over," Caleb whispered, his voice like shattered glass.
He raised his clawed hand, his fingers aglow with cursed energy. With a swift motion, he struck downward. The impact wasn't visible, but a violent surge of black energy rippled across Clader's body.
Back at the Slayers' Headquarters
The doors of the central chamber swung open. Lucien stepped through, his coat torn, face bruised, and his eyes carrying the weight of the battle he had endured. He walked down the pristine hallway, nodding at the salutes of lower-ranking Slayers. Inside a quiet room, Kael and Nova sat with a man in a pitch-black suit. The man had a sharp jawline and wore glasses that shimmered with faint illusion magic.
Lucien stepped forward, bowing his head slightly. "Thank you… for saving them."
The suited man smiled. "Illusion is merely the art of misdirection. Sometimes, that's all it takes to save a life."
They shared a quiet laugh, tension breaking momentarily.
Kael spoke next. "We wouldn't have made it out without him. Those demons… they weren't fighting to win—they were fighting to erase."
Lucien looked at the suited man. "We need more people like you."
Before he could respond, Oroto stepped in, his presence like a stormcloud. His long grey beard and eyes filled with a century of pain and wisdom.
"Lucien," he said with calm finality. "Come with me."
Lucien nodded and followed him through the hallway.
Back in the Ritual Chamber
Clader's eyes snapped open—but he couldn't move. He tried to speak, but no sound came out. His muscles refused to respond.
Caleb knelt beside him again. "We are truly grateful, Clader. You were always part of our grand design."
Clader's eyes narrowed.
"We chose you," Caleb continued. "You had the blood of Trayors flowing faintly in your veins. A legacy you never understood. You birthed the perfect vessel—Metro. A child born of light and shadows. Born to open the gate. You… were our doorway."
The nine demons grinned, their fangs bared.
"And now," Caleb said, placing a palm over Clader's chest, "You will remain the lock that keeps this ritual perfect."
Clader let out a small breath… then whispered something ancient.
The entire room shook. A blazing aura erupted from his body, throwing back three demons. Markings of gold and black began to sear themselves onto Clader's skin, forming spiraling chains that connected to nothing—and yet everything.
From the edge of the ritual, Sara, the black butterfly in human form, smirked.
"So," she said softly, "he's using the 'Last Memory Protocol.' How quaint."
At Oroto's Office
Lucien stood beside Clante, Joy, and Lydia. The air was tense.
Oroto sat behind his aged desk, his fingers crossed before him. He spoke slowly. "The demons are positioning themselves. Trayors will return, and they plan to seal Sara permanently, sacrificing Metro to fuel the gate. If that happens, the world ends."
Clante leaned forward. "So why aren't we striking now?"
Oroto sighed. "Because if we do, we're walking into their trap."
Lucien slammed his fist against the wall. "I don't care if it's a trap. Metro is in danger. Clader's being used. We can't just wait—"
"I never said we would," Oroto interrupted. He reached into his drawer and pulled out a small map, slapping it onto the desk.
"The Jerusalem Slayers have already moved."
Silence fell.
Lydia blinked. "The Jerusalem Slayers? But they're…"
"Elite," Joy said. "Ghosts in the system. I thought they were only rumors."
Oroto gave a tight nod. "I entrusted them with the first move. If they succeed in breaching the ritual site, we can send in our full forces."
Clante leaned back in his chair, whistling. "Then maybe we do have a chance."
Lucien looked out the window. "Just hang in there, Metro. We're coming."
Back in the Ritual Chamber
Clader's body levitated slightly, his aura pushing against the binding magic. The gold markings lit up the entire room. Caleb staggered back.
"Impossible," one of the demons hissed.
Sara remained composed. "Not impossible. Just inconvenient."
A flash of golden memory surged in Clader's mind.
He remembered Glory. Her smile, her laughter. Her voice saying: "Even if the world ends, I'll stand beside you."
He remembered Metro as a baby. As a boy learning to walk. As a teenager trying to prove himself.
And he roared inside his mind.
"I will NOT let you take him!"
A burst of light cracked the sigil. Caleb was knocked to his knees.
But Clader's body trembled. The power was immense, but the ritual had drained him.
Sara's voice echoed, seductive and sharp. "You can fight… but at what cost, Clader? Will your son forgive you when he knows the truth?"
Clader's golden light faltered. He whispered, "I don't care. I will protect him."
Caleb, now bleeding from the mouth, staggered to his feet. "Enough of this! Start the next phase! Metro is the key—if we can't use Clader, we'll drain the boy!"
The ritual resumed. Dark energy enveloped Metro. His body jerked.
Then...
A massive explosion outside.
Demons turned. Cracks formed in the chamber wall.
From the shadows… a sword gleamed.
"Jerusalem Slayer Unit," a voice whispered. "Entry complete."
To be continued…