At Euston Station Square, in front of the underground station of Phlegoneos.

The sky was cloaked in darkness, hiding all the stars from sight, but the moon beamed as if it were suspended from a silken thread on a curtain of night that rippled like the waves of the sea. The thick black clouds carried an oppressive atmosphere that signaled a major event, and the turbulent wind swirling around seemed to prove it. Gas lamps gave off a flickering light that illuminated the way for people going to and from the bustling station.

When the train's whistle became more climactic when docked. The sound of doors opening one after another made cackle sounds, like the rhythm of life.

The man just got off the train, then looked up at the sky and said, "What wonderful weather it is to welcome me." He rubbed his hands a little to feel the cold outside.

After that, his head turned around because of a friendly noise. "Same here," said the stranger next to him. Dressed in black clothes, the man carried a simple cane with a few textures on the top.

At the same time, the man pointed at the distance and said, "In front of you is Euston Square, which was associated with the famous anti-class protest event led by the writer Khalid."

"You can tell," he sighed, "tell me more about that."

The gentleman did not refuse, he continued with some interesting landmarks and rumors. The conversation becomes intimate, while the surrounding atmosphere becomes subtle. A slight change seemed to appear out of nowhere. The man turned and saw an unusual sight. A strange red fog appeared. It began to overflow from the square and spread to the sky. Mix with the yellow light from the streetlights to make the scene spooky.

"Is it a regular show? How wonderful. How can one make smoke appear like that?"

"Wow, I thought the rumors were false. But it seems that everyone here really has such taste. Terrible."

The young man turned around in astonishment and vented his questions, as if a man had known nothing of life. However, he only received the silence and strange expression of the man next to him.

...

In a secret underground area in the poor neighborhood of the East End, three cloaked humanoid figures are whispering to each other. Each person comes from different places and was gathered here secretly to carry out a grand plan.

The scar-faced man, who was standing in front of a group of believers, spoke first: "The summoning ceremony is about to be completed. In three minutes, the power of the Famine Knight will descend. He will bless us in this apostolate. Because His eminence cannot appear directly. Therefore, in order to bypass their surveillance, special preparations are needed."

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He stood in front of the altar. On the altar were a basin of scarlet blood, pounds of grain, and the carcasses of dead rats. They are arranged from left to right. Candles are placed on exquisite silver candlesticks. They radiated light and shone down on the strange jewels placed around them, seemingly with black smoke rising from them.

Under the altar, the devotees prostrated themselves, both trembling and excited. They prostrated themselves under the altar fervently. The comrades shouted, "Astrum, esuritio, salve!"

"Astrum, Esuritio, Salve." Words are repeated. As they chanted more and more, the altar gradually transformed. Evil auras radiated around, and ancient things seemed to descend.

"I shed my blood on the altar. I sacrificed myself to consecrate and surrendered my soul to Her heaven. Recall Her words: We are here to sacrifice. We are here to sow the righteous and here to sew the falseness into this sham world."

They noticed a response from the altar. They were expecting such a situation, so the sacristy man stabbed his left chest. Instead of blood splatters, a thick and viscous light flowed from the wound. Let it blend with the grain on the altar. The cereal on the table turned black, slowly oozing out countless black liquids, and began to boil morbidly.

"I call the name of One of the Four Catastrophes, the Famine Knight."

The man's face was both painful and arousing, as if he were experiencing some kind of special arousal. The man continued to tremble and collapse as the last drop of light flowed out of his body.

The two humanoid figures do the same; they quickly stab their hearts to complete the ritual.

These strange and sinister streams of light quickly flowed to the altar set up on the side. After a while, the candles burning on the table began to sway as if they could not be extinguished. Black smoke appeared. They were sinister and whispered indescribable and vulgar words. Making the listeners hungry, they want to rip the other person's body, their own, to satisfy the hunger from the depths of the soul.

Suddenly, a great aura descended on the altar, as if a dead calamity had come to life.

"A living disaster." They might lose awareness of many things, but nothing has made them feel more authentic about what this means at this moment.

Devotees feel a sacred aura, an endless aura of sickness, a fierce hunger, exhaustion, and thirst. They immediately fell to their knees and chanted incantations to praise the greatness of the newcomer.

"The one who carries the scales is also the one who judges."

"Three denarii for a grain of wheat; He is a fraud, a liar, and a greedy symbol."

"He did not leave a grain of grain for the birds in the field."

"The dark knight who brings drought and withering."

"When His black crow cries in the field, suffering and tears will arise."

A shaded shadow, they have the shape depicted as the evil demons in the painting appear. His appearance changes everything around him; hunger rises.

All sounds in the area seemed muted. Life seemed to have been drained, making the people around them unable to stay awake, as if they had been starved when lost in the desert.

Everything became still. The clouds drifting over the starless, dark background seem to get darker.

In a dark cellar in a poor place in a magnificent capital, something monumental is happening.