(Rock's POV)
That crazy bastard…
I don't think I'll ever understand what goes on in his head. Hell, maybe I was a fool to think I could.
I didn't join this group because I wanted power, or control, or even money. Not really. I joined because I was desperate. When you've spent every waking mont choosing between dicine for your child and food for your wife, your idea of "right and wrong" starts to blur.
My wife was bedridden. My child had cancer. The hospitals? They might as well have been mausoleums. No help. No hope. Just bills. Endless, cruel bills.
Then ca Faluni—with that strange calm voice and colder smile—and an offer. A job. No questions asked. Just do what you're told.
And like a coward, I took it.
But nothing could have prepared for this.
I stood on the edge of the second auditorium, hidden by the shadows near the back doors, watching sothing unfold that didn't belong in this world. Not in any world I know.
Faluni had dragged in buckets—dozens of them—sloshing dark red across the floor with every step. I didn't want to guess what was in them. I told myself it was just animal blood. That's what I needed to believe. But deep down, I knew better it's human blood.
Then he started shouting.
" Guard no.Three! Five! Six! Nine, ten, eleven, twelve—move!"
The guards reacted instantly. No hesitation. No confusion. They moved like clockwork—silent, precise, loyal. Too loyal. They didn't flinch at the sll, or the weight of the buckets, or the madness in his voice. They simply obeyed.
I watched them pour the blood in wide, deliberate arcs, circling the cracked concrete floor. Line after line. Curve after curve. The liquid shimred under the dull lights, tracing so pattern that didn't look human—didn't feel human.
Faluni stood at the center, arms raised, laughing.
And I just… stood there. Frozen.
It wasn't a symbol they were drawing. It wasn't a ssage or so twisted art. It was a circle—huge and detailed—etched in blood and lined with runes I didn't recognize. Ancient symbols. Forbidden shapes. I don't know how I knew that, but I did. My body knew it. Every part of scread to run.
But I stayed.
The circle seed to breathe. The blood sank into the floor like it belonged there, like the ground itself was thirsty for it. The sll hit harder now—tallic, thick, suffocating. I could taste it in the air. Feel it clinging to my skin like sweat.
An hour must've passed. Maybe more.
By the ti the guards stepped back, the entire floor was coated. The summoning circle stretched from one end of the room to the other—easily big enough to park fifteen cars on it, maybe more. It pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat trapped beneath the ground.
Faluni lowered his arms. The room fell silent.
I hesitated, but I have to asked him.
"What… what are you doing?" I asked.
He didn't answer at first.
Just turned and looked at with that smile. The sa one he wore the night he offered this job. The sa one that always felt like a mask.
Then he whispered, almost like a child speaking a bedti wish:
"Finally… my childhood dream is going to be fulfilled. My lovely Monster."
For a second, I didn't move. Couldn't.
"Childhood dream?" I repeated, the words barely making it out of my throat. "Monster?"
What kind of dream required blood? What kind of dream turned a man into this?
And then… sothing clicked.
My stomach dropped. A cold rush ran up my spine.
He wasn't summoning just anything.
He was calling sothing through. Sothing huge. Sothing that didn't belong here. A being that could only be brought into our world with an enormous price.
A soul.
Not just any soul—a powerful one.
I turned slowly, scanning the room, and my eyes fell on her.
Elena.
She was lying beside tied, pale and still. Too still. Like she was hit by sleeping spell.
she wasn't waking up.
Panic gripped by the throat. Spot an error? Visit the original post on M&VLEMPY&R.
No. No, no, no…
It made sense now. The blood. The circle. The timing.
Faluni was going to sacrifice her.
Whatever monster he wanted—whatever hellish dream he was trying to make real—it required her life.
And not just her life. Her soul.
I Have to, My heart pounding so loud I thought it might give away. My tied hands were shaking, fingers twitching like they were trying to move faster than my brain.
I had to stop him.
I had to.
But how?
(Faluni's POV)
I still can't believe it's really happening.
Right here.
Right now.
The mont I've waited for—ached for—my entire life… is finally unfolding before my eyes.
The summoning circle pulses beneath my feet like a second heartbeat, a low, steady thrum that resonates through my bones. The blood—thick, dark, sacred—glistens as it seeps into the cracked floor. The air feels heavier now. Like the sky itself is holding its breath.
I turn my head just slightly and catch Rock Kneeling at the edge of the room.
He's staring at with that sa look so many others have worn before—confusion, fear… maybe even pity.
I don't bla him.
He wouldn't understand.
None of them ever did.
They called all the usual nas.
Crazy. Freak. Lunatic.
Just like everyone else before him. Just like my father. My classmates. My teachers.
But they never knew the whole story.
I must've been six, maybe seven, the day it all began.
I was sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, crumbs in my lap, eyes glued to the screen. The TV flickered in grainy black and white. It was so old Kaiju movie—probably the original Godzilla. I don't rember the title. I just rember him.
That towering monster rising from the ocean like a god, stomping through cities like they were made of sand. People scread, fled, burned—but all I could do was stare. There was no fear in . Just awe.
And sothing else.
Wonder.
That night, I crawled into bed with my mind spinning. My heart felt full of electricity.
"Mama," I whispered, tugging at her sleeve, "I want to touch a monster soday."
She smiled, half-asleep.
"Sure, my child," she murmured. "You will one day."
"Really?"
"Yes."
I believed her.
After that, everything changed.
Monsters beca my world. I started collecting plastic figurines, drawing claws and scales in the margins of my notebooks, reenacting monster battles with cardboard buildings. Every free mont, I spent feeding that hunger.
My parents brushed it off at first.
"It's just a phase," they'd say to each other when they thought I wasn't listening. "Let him have his fun."
But the phase never passed.
By the ti I reached middle school, my obsession had grown teeth. I wasn't just watching monsters anymore—I was studying them. Anatomy. Mythology. Urban legends. Radiation theory. Alternate dinsions.
The more I learned, the more certain I beca: monsters weren't fantasy. They were real.
But the world didn't see it that way.
"Why are you so obsessed with monsters, you idiot?"
Slap.
"Papa, but I love them! They're real!"
"This isn't real! What's wrong with you?! Co to your senses!"
Slap.
I rember the sting. The sound of it. Not just the hit—but the silence that followed.
I turned to my mother, searching for the warmth she used to give .
She looked away.
That hurt more than the slap.
By high school, I was slipping through the cracks. My grades tanked. Teachers stopped calling on . Friends stopped coming around. The other kids gave nas: Monster Boy, Freak, Mutant.
They shoved into lockers. Laughed behind my back. Stole my notebooks and tore them apart.
I stopped trying to fit in.
I stopped speaking altogether in class.
I sat alone at lunch, scribbling new creatures into the corners of my tray with the tip of a plastic fork.
I wasn't chasing fiction.
I was chasing truth.
But truth is lonely. Especially when no one else believes it exists.
And then ca the mont that changed everything again.
It was late—past midnight—and I was curled up on the couch watching another Kaiju movie. The scientists in the film were desperate. There was sothing ancient sleeping beneath the ocean, and they wanted to wake it.
So they dropped a bomb.
A nuclear bomb.
The scene stuck with for days.
Not because it was epic.
Not because it was cool.
But because I saw the logic in it.
If they could do it… why couldn't I?
That thought consud .
Of course, no country on earth would hand a Nuke to a teenager with a dream. But if no one else would help , I'd do it myself.
And I did.
I built Mobius from the ground up—a group of thinkers, outcasts, believers. To the world, we were just another terrorist cell.
But in truth?
We were visionaries.
It took years. Blood. Lies. Sacrifice. But we built it.
A nuclear device.
We sailed it to the Bermuda Triangle And I nuke that area.The storm raged around us, but I stood at the bow of that rusting ship, heart pounding, lungs aching, screaming into the wind.
Waiting.
Begging.
For sothing to rise.
For the roar. For the tremor. For proof.
But all I got… was silence.
The sea swallowed the bomb, and the world kept turning. Unchanged. Unaware. Indifferent.
That silence nearly killed .
I stood on the edge of that ship for hours, staring into the black water, wondering if I should throw myself into it. Because if monsters weren't real…
Then what was I?
And then I felt it.
A shift.
A shadow stretching where no shadow should be.
When I turned, he was already there—standing in the moonlight as if he'd always been part of it.
Allen.
His silhouette was all wrong—wings curled like smoke, horns arching like a crown, eyes that didn't glow… but absorbed light. And yet, when he spoke—
His voice was gentle. Human. Even kind.
"You're not wrong," he said. "You're just looking in the wrong world."
I didn't speak. I couldn't.
He stepped closer, extended a hand, and smiled with sothing between pity and pride.
"Monsters exist. Just not here.
But I can help you summon one."
And now… it's happening.
The blood circle glows. The runes hum. The floor beneath is trembling softly, like the earth knows what's about to be unleashed.
The skies tremble.
The wind stills.
The air thickens, alive with ancient power.
Rock is still watching , frozen in disbelief.
He doesn't understand.
He never could.
But soon… the whole world will.
My monster is coming.
My god is coming.
And when it rises—when it tears through the veil and roars its na across the sky—they will all understand.
The bullies. The teachers. My father. The governnts. The cowards who tried to fix .
They'll see what I've always known.
That monsters are real.
I stepped toward the edge of the ritual circle, my eyes fixed on the glowing symbols etched into the stone. The air felt heavy now—like the very atmosphere was holding its breath, waiting for the final piece to fall into place.
With a calm voice, I called out, "Guard No.3, bring the child here. Place her at the center of the circle."
The guard gave a stiff nod and began walking toward her, his footsteps slow and deliberate, echoing with each thud of his boots. He looked like a machine—cold, silent, focused.
The child lay curled up on the floor. At the sound of footsteps, she stirred.
"Ahhh… yawn..." She rubbed her eyes with her tiny fists. "Papa… I want pancakes..."
For a mont, even the ritual flas flickered.
I clenched my fist.
Rock, his face tense. "Faluni, this won't work. You saw it with your own eyes—she can't be hard. Her skin… it's like iron. Bullets bounced off her. You can't kill her."
I didn't respond right away. I simply stared at the child—so small, so unaware of the chaos she had been born into. Then, slowly, I turned to Rock.
"I know," I said quietly.
From behind my cloak, I drew the weapon Allen had entrusted to . The cursed blade humd faintly as it was unsheathed—its surface darker than night, lined with pulsing crimson veins, as if it were alive.
"This sword isn't ordinary. It was forged in the deepest pits of the demon realm. A gift from Allen himself—just before he vanished."
I held it up, letting the blade catch the dull light from the ritual fire.
"A demon-forged weapon," I said. "It can cut through anything—steel, stone, magic… even flesh blessed by the heavens."
Rock's eyes narrowed. "You're serious."
"I don't need to be serious," I murmured. "I just need it to bleed."
The guard knelt and gently placed the girl at the center of the circle. She looked around curiously, completely unfazed by the strange symbols glowing beneath her. Her fingers traced the chalk lines as if they were drawings in a coloring book.
She smiled up at . "Is this a ga?"
I tightened my grip on the hilt of the sword.
"No, child," I whispered.
"It's the end of one."
To be continue....
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