The city of Craterhold lay under a veil of unnatural twilight, its ancient spires and rusted towers casting long shadows over streets littered with remnants of forgotten technology and broken statues of saints and warriors alike.
In the fading light, the Four gathered in the Ministry's hidden command center—an underground sanctum filled with holographic maps, glowing runes, and relics humming with old power. The air was thick with tension and uncertainty.
Haru sat cross-legged before a translucent projection, his fingers flicking through streams of encrypted Vatican data. The holograms displayed demonic sigils, ancient contracts, and grim plans that sent shivers through even the hardened veterans of the Ministry.
"The Vatican's goal," Haru said quietly, "is to awaken The Herald—a demon sealed beneath Craterhold centuries ago during the Great Purge. Its release would tear apart the fabric of reality."
Daiki's fists clenched. "Why would they risk that? Even demons hate chaos without control."
Ren leaned against a metal console, eyes sharp and calculating. "Power. Control. The Vatican's pride blinds them. They believe they can harness The Herald to crush the Ministry—and us."
Icarus, fingers absentmindedly tracing the cursed crown's edges, looked distant. "Ruth isn't just their pawn. She's the queen in their game. And her ambition? It goes beyond us."
The head monk's voice crackled through the comms, grim and worn.
"You have stirred the hornet's nest. The Vatican will retaliate swiftly and without mercy. The Ministry Council is divided — some call for open war, others counsel caution."
Ren's jaw tightened. "We don't have the luxury of waiting. If The Herald wakes, the world ends."
Daiki slammed a fist on the table. "Then we fight. Every demon, every traitor, every shadow that stands in our way."
Haru closed his eyes, pain flickering behind his glowing gaze. "The burden grows heavier every day. I see the futures where we fall—where the four of us break apart before the real battle begins."
Meanwhile, miles away, the Vatican's golden hall buzzed with intrigue.
Cardinal Malraux paced before a council of high-ranking clergy, his robes billowing like dark clouds.
"The Ministry's defiance threatens the divine order. Our alliance with Ruth must be strengthened—her betrayal of the Ministry is a dagger we will twist slowly."
A cold voice interrupted.
"The boy Icarus and his cursed crown… he is a wild card. If we can corrupt him, the Four will crumble from within."
Malraux's eyes glittered. "Aye. Divide and conquer. The Ministry's protectors will become their undoing."
A Fractured Brotherhood
Back in the command center, the boys sat silently, each lost in their own torment.
Daiki broke the silence, voice low but steady. "We've survived this long because we trusted each other. But Ruth's betrayal... it's a poison. It seeps into everything."
Ren's fingers twitched near his sword, his usual sarcastic smile replaced by a steely resolve. "We'll expose her lies. Tear down the Vatican's mask. Even if it kills us."
Haru looked up, eyes shimmering. "And what if the greatest enemy is the darkness growing inside us? Icarus, the crown—it's changing you."
Icarus's gaze was distant but fierce. "Power always has a price. I'm not afraid to pay it. The crown's whispers... they reveal truths no one else dares to see."
The council's decision was swift.
"A team must enter the Demon Wastes—ancient lands beyond the city's ruins—where the seal on The Herald was forged. We must strengthen it, or all is lost."
Ren grinned despite the weight on his shoulders.
"Sounds like our kind of fun."
Daiki cracked his knuckles. "Let's go break some seals."
As the boys prepared, the world beyond Craterhold grew stranger and more dangerous.
The Demon Wastes were a desolate expanse where time seemed fractured. Rusted war machines lay half-buried in sandstorms; broken altars glowed faintly with arcane energy; and twisted demons lurked beneath the cracked earth, drawn to the fading power of the seals.
Their journey was barely underway when shadows coalesced.
A monstrous demon, its form a grotesque fusion of ancient metal and flesh, emerged from the dust.
Ren's sword flashed, slicing wind that howled like a tempest.
Daiki slammed his fists into the ground, sending tremors that shattered the demon's armored legs.
Haru's foresight warned them of an incoming second wave, and he barked orders.
Icarus unleashed a torrent of fiery blasts, the crown's energy burning brighter with each strike.
The battle was fierce—blades clashing, fire roaring, earth shaking—and through it all, their bond held.
As the dust settled, Daiki looked at his friends, bruised but alive.
"We fight for more than duty. We fight for each other—for a future that's still ours to write."
Ren smiled, brushing dirt from his hair.
"And for the next time I trip over my own feet."
Haru chuckled softly, relief washing over him.
"Together, we are stronger."
Icarus, eyes glowing beneath the cursed crown, nodded once.
"For better or worse, this power is ours to command."