Arthur had always thought his life was pretty normal—chill days, quiet streets, the smell of his mom's cooking drifting through the air. But even as a kid, he could see it. That soft, golden glow around his mom and sister. It felt like home. Safe. And yet, he never told anyone. Kept it buried, afraid people would think he was weird.
Today was his thirteenth birthday. He walked home with a bounce in his step, sunlight spilling across the pavement like melted gold.
"Maybe Mom got me that new game," he mumbled with a grin. His stomach growled. He could already smell her food—rich, spicy, the kind that wrapped around you like a hug.
And then—
The sky ripped open.
A scream cut through the air, raw and ancient and wrong. Clouds shredded like paper, and from the torn edges of reality, monsters spilled through.
Shadow-beasts. Jaws too wide. Limbs like nightmares.
Light disappeared. Warmth vanished. Everything he loved—gone in a blink.
Arthur ran. He didn't even feel the ground beneath his feet.
"Mom! Kisha!" he shouted, his voice cracking as he flew through the door.
The house was twisted. Stretched. Like invisible hands had grabbed it and pulled. Shadows crawled across the walls, whispering, squirming.
The smell hit first—iron and rot.
Then he saw them.
His mom and sister.
Or what was left.
His knees buckled. He collapsed, bile rising in his throat. His world shattered. His scream never even left his lips.
"No... No, please—please..."
But mercy didn't show up.
Three figures stepped out of the darkness, their black robes swallowing every scrap of light. Faces hidden behind shifting shadows.
Arthur scrambled toward them, tears blurring everything. His hands scraped against the floor, bleeding.
"Help them! Please, help them!"
The answer was a boot to the ribs.
He hit the ground hard, coughing blood.
One of them spoke—cold, detached, inhuman.
"By decree of the Sovereign Shade, all clans who oppose him must be erased. Don't curse us. Curse your blood."
Clans? What clans?
His family wasn't special. Just people. Just his people.
He never got the chance to ask.
Hands grabbed his hair. Yanked. Threw him into the void.
And as he fell, their final words echoed:
"In your next life, don't defy higher beings."
—
Pain became his world.
The abyss was alive. And it hated him.
Creatures made of shadow and hate tore into him. Flesh. Bone. Over and over. His screams vanished into the nothing.
But somewhere deep inside—
Rage.
At first, just a flicker.
Then it caught fire.
His right eye burned red. A name, ancient and heavy, whispered into his bones.
The Eye of Wrath.
Power roared through him. He wasn't falling apart anymore. He was changing.
The next monster leapt—he tore it to pieces. His hands became claws. His fury a shield. He shredded his enemies, drenched in black blood.
Then it showed up.
A monster big enough to blot out stars. A dragon with eyes like suns and hunger that could eat whole worlds.
It swung a molten blade. The abyss trembled.
Arthur didn't even blink.
He caught the tendril. Ripped it off.
The fight that followed was madness. Bones broke. Blood flew. Arthur roared and didn't stop until it was over.
The dragon screamed—and he made it stop.
When the dust settled, Arthur stood over the corpse. Shaking. Bloody. Not a boy anymore.
He was wrath.
—
When the last demon died, the void cracked open.
Arthur tore his way back home.
"Please... please still be here."
His hands shook as he dug through the rubble.
His mom, the kind-hearted person who always picked him up when he stumbled. His sister, whose laughter sparkled like sunlight through the trees.
But now, both of them were just memories, lost in an endless dark.
Did those awful demons really take them away, body and soul?
He let out a breath, rough and gritty, like the sharp edge of a knife cutting through the quiet. Fear thumped in his chest, each beat a loud reminder of what he'd lost.
He started digging through the wreckage, his hands desperately searching for anything from his past when something familiar caught his eye—a necklace.
It was buried under layers of junk, its silver chain worn and fragile, and the once-bright crystal pendant now dulled by dust. He felt his heart drop as he recognized it; it was his mom's beloved necklace.
As he held the pendant, a warm feeling rushed through him. His power stirred, crimson energy wrapping around his hand, ready to turn his sadness into strength.
He concentrated hard, trying to channel that energy into the pendant. It responded, the crystal cracked and sparkled, a glimmer of hope lighting up the darkness.
And then—
A woman.
Not entirely human.
She was beautiful in a way that didn't make sense. Her green eyes felt like forests and time and eternity.
"Arthur," she whispered, pain in every syllable. "You've awakened the Eye of Wrath."
"Who are you?" His voice cracked.
"Camila. Goddess of Time. I was bound to this relic. I was meant to guide you—to help you master the Eyes of Sloth and Envy."
He blinked. "No... I felt something else. Wrath. That's what I have."
Camila's face fell. "That... shouldn't be possible. You were meant for Sloth and Envy. Your father was their last wielder."
"My dad?"
She nodded, her eyes full of old sorrow. "He was a guardian. He hid you to keep you safe. But something happened. The Eye of Wrath felt your pain... and chose you."
His voice was sharp. "So what do they want? The dark clans?"
"To kill the Soul King. To take the three realms—mortal, spirit, divine. You're a threat. Your family paid the price."
Arthur's fists clenched. Nails digging in.
"Then I'll burn them to ash."
Camila stepped forward. "Then let me help. I'll guide you. We'll fight back. Together."
—
"We need to find the other Sin wielders," Camila said.
"There's six total, right? So... four more?"
She froze. Eyes wide. "No... wait. I feel them. The other two—they're already inside you. Dormant."
Arthur raised a brow. "Alright. Prove it."
"Open your status window."
"My what now?"
Camila groaned. "Seriously? He told you nothing. Typical."
She took a breath. "You've got more divine energy than most gods. Just check."
A glowing screen shimmered to life.
"First stage of Wrath... Sloth and Envy dormant."
Camila nodded. "That first stage gives you resistances. List 'em."
Arthur read: "Paralysis, physical, spiritual, magic, pierce, heat, pain nullification... auto defense, attack prediction... I can move faster than sound."
Camila whistled. "You're gonna be terrifying when you're full power."
Then her tone shifted. "Our enemies are ranked. At the top—the Shade Sovereign. Below him? The 11 Dark Clans. Then knights. Demons. Monsters."
She tore open a rift. Beyond it—The Land of Dreams.
"Time to go. We're looking for the wielder of Lust."
Arthur hesitated. "And this world? The people here?"
Camila's voice dropped. "Gone. Every last one. This place is a graveyard."
Something cracked in him. He staggered.
His breath caught.
"They're really gone?"
Camila pulled him into a hug. Held him tight. "We'll bring them back. I promise."
He trembled. The Eye pulsed with rage.
She pressed his head to her chest. "Feel my heartbeat. Breathe with me."
He did.
And for the first time in days, the fire cooled—just a little.
"I don't know if I'm strong enough."
"You are," she said softly, her fingers running through his hair. "And I'm staying with you. No matter what."
Arthur looked up. That fierce light was back in his eyes.
He'd destroy the Shade Sovereign.
He'd end the 11 clans.
Together, they stepped through the rift.
The Land of Dreams was wrong.
The sky? Gray. No sun. No stars. Just endless twilight.
People moved like puppets. Blank eyes. Hollow stares.
Buildings slumped like they'd given up. Streets flooded with thick, black sludge. Breathing here felt like drowning.
Camila spoke in a hush. "A long time ago, the gods fought. Their worst traits—their sins—were pulled out and sealed. That's what the Eyes are. Not blessings. Curses."
Arthur listened, jaw tight, heart heavy.
But his will?
Unshakable.
Arthur listened, jaw tight, heart heavy.
But his will?
Unshakable.
"Each Eye represents a sin—Wrath, Lust, Sloth, Gluttony, Greed, Envy, and Pride," Camila continued. "They were scattered across different dimensions, hidden inside people chosen by fate... or maybe just bad luck. Each one comes with power. A lot of it."
Arthur frowned. "Why would anyone even want that kind of power?"
Camila paused, like she was choosing her words carefully. "If you master the Eyes, you get divine-level strength. But it's not free. That kind of power cuts deep. Most people who chase it... lose themselves. The sin doesn't just give you power—it becomes part of you."
Arthur swallowed. "And if someone gets all the Eyes? What happens then?"
She looked at him, serious. "They'd have enough power to rival the gods. But there's a catch. The Eyes weren't just sealed to contain power. They're cages. If you bring them all together, you could wake something old. Or worse—become it."
Arthur clenched his fists. "Then we have to find them first."
Camila's expression twisted with fury, her eyes glowing. "They stole divinity from the world," she said, voice low and sharp. "You know what that means?"
"Not really. You're kinda throwing a lot at me here."
"Every world runs on divine energy," she explained. "It's like fuel. No divine energy? Everything starts dying. No light, no life. Just rot."
They walked through what was left of a small town. Empty. Dead. Everything crumbling. But then Arthur saw something strange—a soft glow around a kid walking alone. Divine energy. A lot of it.
"Hey!" he called out, trying to sound calm. "What happened here?"
The kid froze, eyes wide with fear. Then bolted down an alley without a word.
"Do we follow her?" he asked.
Camila nodded. "She might know something."
They chased her through a maze of ruins and rusted buildings. She slipped into an old warehouse.
Arthur and Camila exchanged a look, then followed her in.
Inside, shadows shifted. People stepped out holding pipes, knives, broken tools—whatever they could grab. They looked terrified.
Arthur felt the tension spike. He moved fast—disarming them in a blur. No injuries. Just fear.
One man dropped to his knees. "Please, don't let them turn Ava into a hybrid."
Camila blinked. "Wait—what? We're not with the Dark King. What's going on here?"
An older man stepped forward, hands raised. "Ten years ago, his knights started taking people with divine power. Turned them into monsters. Demon hybrids. If you fought back, you vanished."
Camila crossed her arms. "Why didn't you fight back? There's a lot of you."
"We tried," he said quietly. "They crushed us. Some of the ones they took came back... but not as themselves. They were just... gone."
A woman near the wall added, "We've been hiding ever since. This isn't living—it's surviving."
Camila's jaw tightened. "Why hybrids? What's the point?"
"We don't know. But once it happens... there's no going back."
Arthur's voice was low. "And those hollow people we saw outside?"
A whisper came from the back of the crowd: "If you don't have divine energy... they take your soul."
Silence.
Arthur and Camila looked at each other. This wasn't just a tragedy. It was a massacre in slow motion.
And then the air changed.
A crushing presence rolled in. A demon hybrid slid from the shadows—half serpent, half human, its aura smothering.
Arthur tensed.
But then—
"Big sister!"
Ava's voice.
There she was, perched on the demon's shoulder. And beside her—a woman stepped forward. Stunning. Unsettling. Like someone had dialed beauty up past human.
Arthur's breath caught. "Are you... one of the Dark Knights?"
Before she could answer, something hit him. A wave of memory—or knowledge. It slammed into him like a storm.
Camila narrowed her eyes. "Do you hold the Eyes of Lust?"
The woman stepped down, every movement deliberate. "Yes. I'm Amelia. I carry the Eyes of Lust. And you are?"
Camila answered. "Camila. This is Arthur. He holds Wrath. We came to find you."
Amelia's eyes flicked between them, unreadable.
Camila kept going. "We thought the Dark Clan had you."
That name changed everything.
Amelia's aura flared. Her expression hardened.
"How do you know about them?"
"We're not with them," Camila said fast. "We're trying to stop them."
Amelia didn't wait. She moved.
The hybrid lunged.
Arthur moved faster.
One punch. The creature hit the dirt.
Camila stepped forward. "We're on the same side. We want to end the Dark Clans."
Amelia hesitated.
Then Ava jumped down and hugged her. That did something. Softened her, just a little.
Later, Amelia helped pass out supplies. Took care of the wounded. But she kept her distance.
Eventually, she found Arthur. Didn't say a word. Just handed him clean clothes.
It grounded him. Reminded him there was still good out there.
Then she found Camila.
"We need your help," Amelia said. "There's something you should know. A Dark Clan member's been here for a decade. Rael. And Miguel—he's worse. A lunatic scientist. Does... things."
Camila's hands twitched.
"Miguel can mess with biology," Amelia continued. "He's making hybrids. Monsters."
The words landed hard.
Arthur's fists curled. Rage simmered under his skin.
That night, the three of them talked for hours. Planned. Fought. Dug up secrets.
Arthur didn't sleep. Couldn't.
The next day
Then the whispers came.
Someone had been taken.
Amelia.
His heart stopped.
She was gone.
He would burn the world to get her back.
They stood in the ruins of an old chapel. Moonlight pouring through broken beams. Arthur paced near the altar. Camila leaned on a shattered column.
They'd searched all day.
Still no sign.
She wasn't just a Sin wielder. She was chaos in heels. Sharp. Dangerous. If someone took her, they had a plan.
"Say it again," Arthur growled.
"The Dark Clans might have her," Camila said.
"Then why are we still standing here?"
She tossed a bloody dagger at his feet. "Everyone we questioned knew about the attack. No one knew where she went."
"So where is she?"
A voice from the shadows: "We found something."
One of Amelia's scouts stepped forward. Battered. Bloody. Shaking.
Camila didn't wait. "Talk."
"She's with the Dark Clans... but they're not calling the shots. Miguel is."
Arthur's eyes burned. The rage surged back.
"Him."
Camila nodded. Sent the scout away.
The world was falling apart.
And Arthur?
He was just getting started.