The sky over Lucknow burned crimson, fractured with eerie green flashes of alien ships descending upon the city. Screams echoed as panicked citizens fled in every direction, aware of the horrifying fate that awaited them. The memory of the North East’s obliteration by the aliens was fresh—a warning of the apocalypse to come. Now, with the arrival of these extraterrestrial invaders, the fate of North India hung in the balance.

The yogis and spiritual fighters who had once served as Earth's last line of defense faltered against the relentless alien assault. Their chants and sacred weapons, so powerful in the past, seemed feeble now. Whispers of despair swept through the ranks of defenders. This was no ordinary invasion; the aliens had come prepared.

To make matters worse, a catastrophic twist unfolded—the witches of the Annunaki opened the gates of Hell itself. The earth trembled as a man, chosen as a sacrificial vessel, became possessed by the demon lord Asmodeus. His transformation was monstrous; his 10-foot frame loomed over the battlefield, his grotesque hands crackling with dark energy. His presence alone turned hope into ashes, as the air grew heavy with malevolence.

The world government, in a desperate bid to salvage humanity, prepared to launch a nuclear strike on Lucknow. The plan was grim but necessary: annihilate everything—aliens, demons, and innocents alike—to ensure humanity’s survival. A 10-minute countdown began, a ticking clock toward obliteration.

Amid the chaos, the Annunaki hunted for their ultimate prize—a child of prophecy, hidden among the terrified crowd. She was said to hold the power to end the Annunaki once and for all, and her death would cement their dominion over Earth.

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The child of prophecy, a girl of royal blood born of Annunaki and Nefilim lineage, was no ordinary being. Her mixed heritage was seen as an abomination by the Annunaki, who viewed her as a threat to their dominion. However, ancient texts foretold her role in uniting the warring races and bringing an end to the Annunaki’s reign. For this reason, she was relentlessly pursued, and now, surrounded by loyal protectors—Nefilim, renegade Annunaki, and human warriors—she sought refuge in the crumbling ruins of the city.

Asmodeus's deep, guttural laughter echoed as he began tearing through the humans shielding her. The Annunaki captains advanced as well, closing in on the girl. One captain, towering and menacing, reached for her with his clawed hand. Just as his fingers grazed her hair, a sudden burst of blood erupted from his shoulder. His arm had been severed in a flash.

Before anyone could react, his head exploded with another small detonation. The crowd gasped, too stunned to comprehend what had happened. Standing in the captain’s place was a man, his right palm glowing faintly as he shook it, as if swatting away a fly. His calm smile contrasted sharply with the ominous black aura swirling around him.

The defenders and attackers alike froze.

“It seems the game has gotten interesting,” the man said, his voice as calm as his smile.

Asmodeus’s eyes snapped toward him, his grin vanishing as he recognized the power radiating from the figure. The man’s presence alone stilled the battlefield, an eerie silence falling over the chaos. The demon lord’s gaze hardened.

The man tilted his head, his smirk never fading. “It seems you’ve overstayed your welcome, Asmodeus.”

Asmodeus’s eyes narrowed. He was no fool—he knew that voice. The man before him wasn’t just some powerful mortal or demon. No, this was someone far more dangerous. This was the one being who had once torn through the infernal planes of Hell itself. The one being who could face Lucifer and survive. Purgatorio.

The air shifted, heavy with tension, as the aura of death filled the space between them. Asmodeus’s blood ran cold. Despite the man’s human form, he could feel the immense power thrumming beneath it. The killer aura that surrounded Purgatorio was unmistakable.

But Asmodeus had no fear. His confidence surged as he realized that in this form, the man—Purgatorio—was vulnerable. He could be taken down. Asmodeus stood tall, his claws itching to finish the fight. But the man didn’t move. He remained silent, standing beside the child of prophecy, his bloodied palms still shaking as he tried to rid them of the crimson stains.

The 10-minute countdown ticked down to five. The nuclear strike was imminent.

Asmodeus let out a low growl. He couldn’t allow this man to interrupt his conquest. With a roar, he lunged forward at the defenders, his claws aiming to rip through them. Yet, as his eyes flickered back toward Purgatorio, he hesitated.

The man’s smirk remained in place, his aura swirling ominously. Asmodeus growled, his attention shifting.

With a reluctant grunt, he abandoned his current fight, turning his full attention toward Purgatorio. His body tensed as he advanced toward the mysterious figure standing near the child of prophecy. The air around them crackled with hostility.

Asmodeus’s voice was a deep growl, barely more than a grunt, but it rang with recognition. “Purgatorio…”