As soon as Gershion arrived back in his neighborhood, he felt the familiar energy of the place, yet something was different. The quiet streets seemed to hum with tension. Behind him, Toby, the double-headed dragon, lumbered forward, its heavy steps drawing attention.
He could hear the whispers of the neighbors as they gathered around cautiously, staring at the massive creature by his side. One of the braver neighbors, a man with weathered features, stepped forward, though his voice trembled.
"Ungrateful being," the man said, pointing an accusing finger at Gershion. "After all Miss Fiona has done for you, you abandoned her and ran away when trouble came to your door."
The man’s eyes flickered nervously to the dragon beside Gershion, but his gaze quickly darted away. His voice shook, though he tried to sound defiant.
Gershion’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, his voice calm but firm. “What trouble? I’ve been away in Genesis.”
Before the man could respond, a familiar figure stepped out of the crowd—Collins, a celestial with an Archangel essence, and one of Gershion’s closest neighbors. He wore an expression of sympathy, but his eyes were dark with concern.
“Gershion, it’s been chaotic since you left,” Collins said, stepping forward. “Just a couple of days ago, some people came claiming they were from Nyamekrom.”
Gershion's confusion deepened. “Nyamekrom? My Hometown? What do they want?”
Collins sighed, glancing around nervously as if afraid of being overheard. “They’ve been experiencing misfortunes in their village. They believe it’s because the cursed boy—” Collins looked directly at Gershion, “—you—is still alive. They knew it was Miss Fiona who took you in, so they came for you.”
The revelation hit Gershion like a punch to the gut. “Miss Fiona? What did they do to her?”
Collins hesitated, then continued, “She refused to tell them where you were, Gershion. So… they took her. They left a message behind, saying you should come to Nyamekrom alone.”
Gershion's heart pounded in his chest. “Why didn’t anyone stop them?”
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“The Sanctum of Luminance sent a few angels after them,” Collins explained, his voice dropping to a whisper, “but it was fruitless. They came back empty-handed. There’s a rumor...”
“Rumor?” Gershion pressed, his fists clenching at his sides.
Collins nodded grimly. “There’s talk that the Oracle in Nyamekrom is a member of the Hell Bringers Association.”
A gasp came from the crowd, and Gershion’s eyes narrowed. “The Hell Bringers? They’re aligned with the dark forces trying to create rifts into the Dark Realm...”
Collins nodded again. “Exactly. They believe the Dark Realm holds beings stronger than any celestial could imagine, and that it’s only a matter of time before they overrun the Light Realm. The Hell Bringers are trying to accelerate that—by weakening the balance.”
Gershion’s mind was racing. Miss Fiona, the woman who had taken him in and raised him as her own, was now in the hands of these dark forces. His blood began to boil.
“Why would anyone in the Light Realm align with such evil?” Gershion asked, his voice rising.
“Cowardice,” Collins said bitterly. “The leader of the Hell Bringers Association is said to have ventured into a Power’s Portal with his team. They were massacred by the Dark Realm forces. Ever since then, he’s been obsessed with aligning with them, believing it’s the only way to survive when they finally invade.”
Gershion’s jaw tightened. “What about the Council of Light? Why haven’t they done anything about these rifts?”
Collins sighed. “They’re aware of it. But they’re stretched thin, and the Universe law—like the one that prevents higher-tier celestials from entering lower-tier realms—are only making it harder. The cores of these dungeons are where the dark portals hide, and the dark forces use them as bases to invade our realm.”
A heavy silence fell over the group, but Gershion's mind was anything but calm. He clenched his fists tighter, his thoughts returning to Miss Fiona. “So the dark forces are hiding in the cores of portals, and the Council can’t even enter to stop them?”
Collins nodded. “That’s the rumor. But recently, it’s been said that the Divine Will of the World has started giving certain celestials special access to all portals, no matter their rank.”
Gershion’s eyes flickered with a glimmer of understanding. Perhaps that explained why he was able to pass through the teleportation portals so easily. He felt a sense of belonging that hadn't been there before.
He nodded, the pieces falling into place. “It’s time to end this.”
Without another word, Gershion stormed into the house. The walls felt colder than usual, and as he entered the main room, his eyes immediately locked on a note pinned to the wall. It was written in blood—dark, thick, and unmistakable. His heart skipped a beat.
The message read: Come to Nyamekrom. Alone.
But what disturbed Gershion the most was the blood itself. He knew whose it was. Miss Fiona's. His stomach twisted with rage.
His hands clenched into fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white. The room around him began to shake, the floorboards groaning under the force of his growing anger. The dragon, sensing his fury, let out a low growl.
“How dare they...” Gershion muttered through gritted teeth. “How dare they touch her!”
His rage surged, a wave of energy rippling from his body as the house trembled. The windows rattled in their frames, and cracks splintered up the walls. His dragon, Toby, growled, pacing behind him, its eyes glowing fiercely.
In that moment, all Gershion could think about was revenge. Nyamekrom, the Hell Bringers, the Oracle—they had no idea what was coming for them.
“I’m coming, Miss Fiona,” he vowed, his voice a deadly whisper. “I’ll tear that village apart if I have to.”
As the house continued to quake under the weight of his fury, Gershion stormed out the door, the note clutched in his hand. The dragon followed close behind, its wings flaring wide in preparation for the hunt.