One hundred thousand years ago, the heavens went to war.
A mighty Devil rose against the gods, and the skies themselves became a battlefield. Angels and gods fell like burning comets, their wings torn apart as divine blood painted the sky crimson. Power beyond imagining clashed without restraint, and the world below shattered under forces it was never meant to endure.
At the heart of the war stood Xan, the youngest of the gods—and the mightiest. He faced the Devil alone. His blade, forged to end divinity itself, struck again and again, but even a weapon made for eternity could not pierce the Devil's heart. The creature could not be slain.
With their numbers nearly wiped out, the remaining gods had only one choice: a seal. The Devil's existence was torn apart and divided into seven gems, each holding a fragment of its power. Scattered across time and space, these gems became both prison and key. As long as they remained separate, the Devil could never return. But if the seven were ever brought together, the seal would break.
One hundred thousand years later, in the modern world, a young man slept through his history class.
Damian lay face-down on his desk, completely unconscious. The teacher's lecture faded into background noise until a piece of chalk struck his head.
"Damian! You're in Grade 10 now. Must we do this every day?" the teacher snapped.
Damian groaned, barely opening an eye. "And must you assault me with chalk every day?"
"Out!"
Damian rolled his eyes, grabbed his bag, and left without another word. He wandered the hallways with no real destination, until shouting caught his attention.
"What the fuck do you mean you don't have my money?"
The voice belonged to a large student who looked far too old for high school—thick beard, rough face, and a heavy gut hanging over his belt. Grade 12. Definitely.
The one being yelled at was familiar. Skinny. Nervous. Glasses sliding down his nose. August.
"I promise I don't! I gave it to you!" August said, voice cracking.
The older student grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the lockers. The metal echoed down the hallway.
"Don't lie to me," the boy snarled. "You think I'm stupid?"
August struggled, glasses crooked on his face. Nearby students glanced over and quickly looked away. No one wanted trouble.
Damian stopped. He watched silently, eyes moving from the clenched fist to August's pale face. He sighed, irritation clear.
"Oi," he said casually, stepping into the path.
The Grade 12 turned. "What?"
"You," Damian said, hands in his pockets. "Fuck off your making noise"
"Huh?"
Their eyes met. The hallway seemed colder. Damian didn't shout. He didn't threaten. He just stood there, a weight in his gaze that made the older student uneasy.
"Tch," the boy muttered, releasing August. "Lucky day," he added, walking off.
August slid down the lockers, breathing heavily. "T-thank you," he said, adjusting his glasses.
Damian didn't respond. He was already walking away.
"W-wait!" August called. "Can I… walk with you? Just for a bit?"
Damian didn't slow down.
August followed anyway. After a few moments of silence, he spoke. "I'm August. Same grade as you. Nice to meet you… I guess."
"Damian," he replied, dryly.
They left the school grounds and walked for nearly fifteen minutes before Damian stopped.
"Are you gonna follow me home?" he asked, eyebrow raised.
"I live around here too," August said quietly.
"Alright," Damian muttered. "Then walk faster."
The street was calm—low apartment buildings, shuttered shops, long shadows stretching across the pavement. August walked half a step behind Damian, careful not to get too close.
Suddenly, a small gray cat darted across the sidewalk and stopped in front of them. Scruffy. One patch of fur missing from its tail.
August crouched instantly. "Oh—hey there."
The cat approached without fear. August scratched its chin, and it purred.
"It likes you," Damian said.
"Guess so," August smiled.
Damian crouched down—and froze. The cat hissed, fur standing on end, eyes locked on him as if he were unnatural.
"...Really?" Damian muttered. "The hell did i do to you?"
"I think you scared it," August said nervously.
"I didn't even touch it."
The cat backed away, then turned around and relived its self ,"You've got to be kidding me," Damian muttered.
August laughed, then stopped. "Damian."
"What?"
"There's… something in it."
Among the mess on the sidewalk lay two stones, glimmering in the fading sunlight. Smooth. Perfect. About the size of marbles. One pulsed a deep purple. The other glowed a sharp yellow. They weren't dirty or stained even after being excreted out of a stray.
"I don't think touching them is a good idea," August whispered.
Damian's hand moved anyway. The moment his fingers brushed the stone, something long asleep opened its eye. The air shifted. The world itself seemed to exhale. The cat bolted down the street, disappearing into the shadows.
Neither boy heard it—but both felt it deep in their bones, etched into their blood.
Damian staggered back, clutching his head. His vision blurred momentarily .
"What… did we just do?" August asked, trembling seemingly feeling exactly what Damian had felt.
Damian looked down at the purple stone in his hand. It pulsed once. His blood ran cold.
Somewhere, in a place long sealed away, something smiled for the first time in one hundred thousand years. Unknown to them something had formed in a world far beyond their own, small but significant a crack that should've never appeared.