The orange sun was disappearing off into the horizon, giving way to the Night’s enveloping darkness.

There was a circle of red-robed figures with their arms raised to the sky, chanting in indecipherable language, surrounding the complicated ritual circle with an unconscious angel lying in the middle. Her divine life was to be taken as fuel for the ritual. Around them, the red-armored soldiers were fighting for their lives as they tried to repel the countless invading armies. The invading armies from various nations and organizations were here for one purpose: to stop the grand ritual.

“Finally, our time is nigh! Lord Astaroth shall lead us to the glory!” One of the robed men roared. The ritual circle began to glow red ominously.

The crimson beam shot skywards, halting the bloody battlefield.

For a moment, the hush ushered across the hundreds of thousands of weary soldiers. Fights came to a standstill with blades still dripping blood.

The Rostay’s ritual had finally been completed. The good guys have lost the war.

___

“Stand clear of the closing doors please.”

The train chimed, old gray metallic doors closing. A young man was waiting impatiently for the damn train to move faster so he can get home sooner. Tristan Hall was coming home after studying out of the state for almost four years. He was only 22 years old this year but he already felt so old. He was graduating from college soon. Tristan scrolled through his phone, impatiently passing the time when the train finally came to a stop. He walked past the open doors…

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“....AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH” Tristan screamed, falling through a surreal, electric-blue tunnel, the air crackling with arcs of radiant energy, casting a bluish sheen on his bewildered face.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly as he plummeted through the luminous abyss, each passing moment a disorienting blur of sparks and ethereal patterns. The sensation of freefall was both exhilarating and terrifying as if gravity had lost its grip on him, and he was adrift in a dimension beyond comprehension.

With effort, he managed to straighten his body and regain his bearings. His surroundings gradually became focused, revealing a fantastical realm of surreal landscapes, shimmering horizons, and ... three suns? The once-dizzying fall had transformed into a controlled descent, and he now had the chance to explore this enigmatic tunnel, his heart pounding with a mixture of bewilderment and adrenaline.

“... The fuck!? Am I tripping!?” Tristan was bewildered. He genuinely pondered whether he was really high on drugs right now. “I definitely took it before but I don’t remember taking one!” He tried to reach his arm out to touch the walls of the tunnel but he was still falling in the center of the tunnel with no way to move around. “Shit! This is real!” He tried to pinch himself, slap himself awake, but it didn’t help.

___

Tristan was a streak of light, a falling comet in the midnight canvas of a starry night sky, still encased within the crackling blue tunnel. He hurtled through the celestial expanse, his descent marked by a fiery trail that illuminated the heavens. From the vantage point of the two warring armies below, it was a celestial phenomenon that could only be explained as the arrival of the Hell’s Crowned Prince, Astaroth.

The scarlet followers of the Rostay that had summoned the demons watched in awe and terror as the blazing comet descended, believing it to be the long-awaited harbinger of Astaroth. They muttered incantations and beseeched their infernal allies to be prepared for the arrival of their new master.

On the other side of the battlefield, a rival faction perceived the comet's descent as a cataclysmic omen. They knew that the Astaroth's arrival would spell doom for their world. To them, the comet was the ultimate threat, and they were determined to destroy it at all costs.

Tristan's fiery descent continued far beyond where both sides could reach in the time…

BOOM!

The comet landed with a resounding impact in a remote, desolate area. The ground quaked, and the shockwave radiated outward. The armies of good and evil clashed in a furious battle for Astaroth. Both sides sent scouts to reach the impact site side by side while skirmishing with each other.

Amid the tumult and chaos, Tristan found himself in the heart of a battle for his destiny, shrouded in the plots guided by the unseen hand.

Of course, Rostay fucked up and brought in the wrong guy.