The city of Homorotabi, a place with towering walls made of rust and metal, is a defensive stronghold, not meant to cause harm, aside from the potential deadly bacteria caused by tarnished iron.

The gate is guarded by two warriors. At night, after the sun sets, the guards unfailingly close the gate. Sometimes, the self-proclaimed strongest Homorotabi will visit the gates and boast with a basket of fish in hand.

The center of the city embodies a flowing river. To its north stands the respectable old castle of the royals. To the south lies the complicated temple of the ancient god, and to the west points the forbidden bloody forest of Ruifia.

The Igrus Temple is guarded by numerous trained combatants, around 50, though only the king knows the specific number. Since the Homorotabi realized that being a meek, defenseless species wouldn't save them after experiencing the incident that happened around 200 years ago, they trained warriors for handling different situations.

They trained soldiers to guard the temple in case of an external attack, and the result was the birth of the Templars. The templars are the only authority allowed inside the king's barrier that envelops the temple. However, due to the prolonged peace, the dignified templars are now known as slackers.

"I'm not feeling too good..." a templar said, wobbling as he leaned on a nearby trunk. His left arm is nowhere to be found since it was amputated a long time ago. His putrid scent envelops his surroundings, creating a dizzy feeling for the fat Homorotabi near him.

"It's because you drank too much! How many times do I have to tell you to be moderate? What if we get caught by our chief?"

"That's impossible. That fat face is too scared to come here; he will piss his pants before he could pass the barrier," the amputated man said, sitting on the bare snow. "I'm going to sleep; wake me up when it's morning."

He said that, yet out of nowhere, he revealed a bottle of alcohol from who knows where.

"You're going to drink more!?" the fat Homorotabi exclaimed.

Then, right after, there is total silence. The fat man didn't respond to the silence, and the amputated man sips a part of the alcohol while he slowly closed his eyes.

Somebody, however, took his bottle of alcohol away from him.

"Can't resist the temptation, can we?" the smug on the Homorotabi's face is impeccable, as if he won the lottery. He thought that the fat Homorotabi is tempted to drink and slack as well. Instead, a woman's voice responded to him.

"Is this any good?" she asked, her voice slow and soft, a little cool and grumpy yet feminine.

The Homorotabi can't help but smile when he hears the voice. "Yeah, it's heavenly. All your problems will be cleansed with a single gulp."

A mistake he made is that, through all this time, he held his eyes closed, unaware of his surroundings. Now he opened them to look at his partner. "Hey Clarikus, why didn't you mention you brought a chick in here?" he's not there, only darkness.

"Clari...?" but looking closer, squinting his eyes... he could see a figure looking at him. He didn't notice it sooner since his mind is fogged, but the figure... it is a head... it was looking at him with bloodshot eyes... and soon he noticed it is Clarikus's. He's dead. His head cut in half.

"It's not strong enough," the woman said. Immediately, in a snap, the Homorotabi jumped away from her and picked up his spear. A bit of regret as he didn't bring his gun.

It finally registered to him as he laid his eyes on the girl who's drinking from his bottle. It is a demon, a horrific murderous creature.

Without second thoughts, the Homorotabi attacks, though the bottle of alcohol flew to his head and shattered, harming his face. The putrid liquid of alcohol spread throughout his body, drenching him. He didn't stop; his drunk state makes him numb and oblivious.

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Then he thrusts his spear, but it is caught by the demon's metallic hand. Now that they are closer to each other, the man recognizes her more.

"I... I remember you! You're the same demon who cut off my arm! How did you pass the King's barrier!?"

"[Ignite]"

A second later, the Homorotabi is burning in fire. The pain seeping into his flesh, torturing his pitiful soul into the horrors of death. "ARGGHHH!" his painful screams, as loud as it could get, alerted the rest of the Templars to the offender.

The sight of the struggling burning man, his loud painful scream, the scent of burning skin... it caught on Hannathema's nerves that she said to herself, "Not drunk enough, huh?"

"Who's there!?"

"Intruder!"

A lot of templars emerge, readily armed to confront Hannathema. Yet it became a one-sided massacre...

The demon looks at them with glowing murderous eyes as she unsheathes her red-tinted sword. She doesn't bother to evade; she clashes with them, ready to catch all of their attacks. In exchange, a single swoop painted the white cold snow with red painful blood. It is raining blood, accompanied by the thunder of screams. Heads are flying off the Homorotabi's shoulders as if fruits being harvested. Swift slashes, rough and heavy movements, Hannathema is like a walking armor that uses lightning for a sword. There might be times that the thrust of spears touches her skin, but it doesn't penetrate; she is as hard as Black Iron.

When they know it is futile to confront her even in a group, they ready their hidden weapon. They install a heavy machine gun while the demon is busy slaughtering them. When it is ready, the Homorotabi orders the others to stay away from the demon. Then they fire, a barrage of bullets hurtling faster than what the eyes could see. The demon couldn't evade... yet the bullets bounce off her skin like pebbles, leaving only a light bruise.

The Homorotabi is left astounded in horror; just what the hell is that demon made of? Hannathema swings her sword horizontally; it doesn't hit anyone... or does it? It is too late for the Homorotabi to realize... suddenly their heads fall off from their shoulders, suddenly, they could see their own dirty feet on the snow.

And at last, it ends... a pool of blood covers the grounds of the holy temple. The templars are now all dead. Hannathema slashes the air to get rid of the blood on her blade before sticking it into the sheath.

Hannathema opens the door of the temple... With sheer strength, she pushes the door open, ready to see the supposed god sealed by karma.

"So this is the Igrus Temple. It does not seem special like I heard it is."

She sees nothing, only the seemingly deep water in the center of the temple surrounded by towering statues of figures with geometric sharp faces undiscernible to all logics and appearance. Hannathema, despite being creeped out by the incomprehensible shapes for heads, recognizes that they have eyes.

"So where the heck is this god they are bragging about?" she mutters. She couldn't see anyone other than the flat surface of the floor and the calm water at its center. "Damnit Daruth, you lied to me! I was even hopeful that this time, I would see proof of their existence. But I guess, this is just another hoax overhyped by idiots. I'm glad that I'm an atheist. Gods really don't exist! Hallelujah, motherfucker."

After celebrating her victory for a while, she decides to head back, but then she notices that the water in the accumulation moves.

"..."

She activates her vision, an ability called the Eye of Fos. There is nothing...

Then she puts her eyes towards the statue's faces. The previously geometric, incomprehensible shapes are now recognizable as faces where one is a fish, another is a goat, the other is a feral wolf, and other beasts. They are all looking at her with wide eyes.

A Homorotabi emerges from the deep water, "H...help me..." the blue person said. The Homorotabi tries to crawl towards Hannathema, yet a large chain-like tentacle swiftly takes her and drags her back to the depths of darkness underwater. "ARGGH!"

Hannathema finally realizes that Magroth is real. It seems that the rumors are indeed true. Many others emerged, trying to escape from the underwater, yet every time they tried to do so, they are being taken away with a painful grab that makes them scream. The calm state of water becomes chaotic as several tentacles try to catch them one by one.

The demon starts unsheathing her sword, just exactly when a giant head slowly creeps out of the water... The red eyes from the monster eerily look at her, as if wanting to devour her soul.

Hannathema shuts down her Eye of Fos to see the creature clearly without all the Homorotabi screaming and running around, covered in blood. The monster looking at her is physical, yet somehow, it can touch the spirits of the dead. Truly, it is a god; Hannathema now has no doubt about its legitimacy. And she is ready to slay that same god.

However...

"What the...? A rift?"

A crack in space emerges in front of her; darkness pierces out from the errors. The rift grows larger and larger by seconds until a dark, shadowy hand grabs Hannathema's metallic hand. "What the hell are you?" she asks as she is being pulled towards the rift. She is being sucked in.

She tries to pull her arm away, but it's futile; the beast that grabbed her is strong. It is indeed strong that Hannathema chuckles. "Fine, I'll go along with you. I'll make sure you'll regret taking me there."

She could cut the arms and run away, yet she doesn't, clearly due to her ego. Seeing something stronger than her makes her want to fight it to see who will survive. Such is the way of a demon.

Now that there is no trace of Hannathema in the face of the world, Magroth returns, playing his game, torturing the pitiful dead forever until the day of judgment.