(A/N):
Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.
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Rivermoor City...
Noble Mansion...
Ruined Kitchen...
Four Arms straightened, breathing steady now.
The fight was over. He turned his head toward the woman crouched near the wreckage.
She hadn't looked up once.
Her shoulders trembled as quiet sobs escaped her, hands clutching herself as the weight of what she had done finally crushed down on her.
Four Arms snorted.
"YOU BETTER LIVE WITH IT."
She flinched—but didn't argue.
She didn't raise her eyes.
She just cried harder, like someone who had finally been forced to face themselves.
Four Arms turned away.
That was when it happened.
Behind him—Something moved.
A faint twitch. Then another.
-Twitch -Twitch
Four Arms froze.
"...."
Jack's body, broken and unmoving moments ago, began to convulse unnaturally.
His eyes snapped open wide, terror replacing madness as he struggled for breath, mouth opening as if trying to scream—
And then something else pushed back.
From within. Four Arms spun around.
"WHAT—"
Jack's form distorted, stretching in ways no living body should.
Shadows rippled across his skin as an unseen presence forced its way out, tearing free of its vessel like discarded clothing.
Jack went still.
What emerged was not human.
Tall. Slender. Two horns crowning its head. And two massive feathered wings, black as void, unfolding slowly as if tasting air for the first time.
It stood amid the debris, tilting its head in quiet curiosity.
Its gaze swept the ruined kitchen.
Then—It met Four Arms' eyes.
Four Arms instinctively took a step back.
"YOU."
The being's wings flexed once.
-FLAP!!!
The ceiling shattered as it launched upward in a burst of force, stone and wood exploding outward as it vanished into the night sky.
Four Arms reacted instantly.
"...."
He slammed his palm against the Omnitrix symbol on his chest.
A radiant green flash erupted.
-FLAAASHH!!!
Jetray burst into existence and shot upward through the broken ceiling, piercing the open sky in pursuit.
"STOP!"
But it was already gone.
No mana trail. No presence. No sound.
Only silence.
Jetray slowed midair.
Something drifted down.
He caught it instinctively.
A single feather.
Jet black. Long. Heavy with an unnatural weight.
Not from any bird.
Jetray stared at it as it rested in his hand, the night wind whispering around him.
"…THIS WAS NEVER JUST JACK."
Below, the mansion smoldered in ruin.
Above, something ancient had slipped its leash.
And Ben understood, with chilling clarity—They hadn't stopped the ritual.
They had only broken the container.
Clover Capital...
Royal Palace...
Grand Council Chamber...
Two days later, the air inside the royal palace was heavy with expectation.
Ben sat upon the throne, posture composed, gaze sweeping across the assembled figures before him.
"...."
Every Magic Knight squad captain stood present, summoned by royal decree without explanation.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Their cloaks bore different colors, different crests—but every one of them wore the same guarded expression.
At Ben's side stood the Wizard King, Julius Novachrono, his usual curiosity tempered by rare seriousness.
Silence ruled the chamber.
Ben lifted one hand.
A guard stepped forward and placed an old, leather-bound book onto the central table.
The moment it touched the surface, several captains felt it—an unease crawling up their spines.
"This," Ben said evenly, "is the reason you're all here."
He rose from the throne and stepped down, resting a hand on the table beside the book.
"In Rivermoor City," he continued, "I pursued a serial criminal. A man who believed himself judge, executioner, and savior."
A few captains exchanged glances.
"But the man was never the true threat," Ben said. "He was a vessel."
He opened the book.
The pages did not glow. They did not scream.
They were worse—quiet.
"...."
"I encountered a being unlike devils,"
Ben said, voice calm but heavy.
"A creature that emerged from the criminal's body after his defeat."
Murmurs spread through the chamber.
Julius's eyes sharpened hearing Ben's words.
"Not a devil?"
Ben shook his head. "No. Devils corrupt from without."
He turned a page, revealing diagrams and symbols.
"This thing came from within."
The room fell silent again.
"These entities are called Fallen Angels," Ben said. "And their records—rituals, names, classifications—are written in this book."
One captain stepped forward despite himself.
"Angels… falling?"
"Not angels of heaven like the church stories," Ben corrected. "Beings that were never meant to exist in this world's order. Neither divine nor infernal."
He met their eyes one by one.
"They use human sin as fuel. Betrayal. Obsession. Despair. Not worship—harvest."
Julius folded his arms slowly.
"…And the criminal?"
"He followed a script," Ben replied. "Thirteen chapters. Thirteen progressions. He believed he was cleansing the world."
Ben closed the book.
"In truth, he was preparing a door."
The chamber felt colder.
"If even one Fallen Angel fully manifests," Ben continued, "it will make devils look… manageable."
No one spoke.
Even the most battle-hardened captains understood the implication.
Julius exhaled softly.
"So this isn't just a criminal matter."
"No," Ben said. "It's a world-level threat."
He straightened.
"That is why you are here. From this moment on, information about this book and these entities is restricted to this room."
His gaze hardened.
"We are no longer just defending the Clover Kingdom."
He paused.
"We are preventing something that should never walk this world again."
Above the council chamber, sunlight streamed through stained glass.
Below it, the foundation of reality itself felt… less certain.
Ben closed the book and looked around the chamber once more.
"...."
Every captain was watching him now—no distractions, no doubts.
"This doesn't end with one criminal," Ben said. "And it doesn't end with one city."
He straightened, voice carrying authority without raising it.
"From this moment on, patrols are to be increased across all assigned regions," he ordered. "Your squads will remain active. No gaps. No complacency."
Several captains nodded immediately.
-Nod
"If there are unresolved cases," Ben continued, "mysterious killings, disappearances, strange rituals—solve them. Quickly."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in.
"There is a high chance that others have followed the same path," he said. "And I do not know how many of these books exist… or how far they've spread across the Clover Kingdom."
The silence that followed was grim.
"...."
"...."
"...."
One of the captains clenched his fist.
"You think there could be more vessels?"
"Yes," Ben replied without hesitation. "And not all of them will be careless."
He turned slightly and gestured toward the chamber doors.
"I've already dispatched my butler, Harry," Ben said. "He's investigating the Royal Library as we speak—searching for any records, grimoires, or forbidden texts related to Fallen Angels or anything resembling this book."
Julius's expression darkened.
"If something like this has been sitting in our archives…"
"Then we find it before someone else does," Ben said.
He looked back at the captains.
"You are not to act alone if you encounter anything similar," he added. "Report immediately. No heroics. No secrecy."
His gaze sharpened.
"These beings thrive on ignorance and isolation. We deny them both."
One by one, the captains bowed.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
As they turned to leave and carry out their orders, the chamber slowly emptied—boots echoing against stone, cloaks swaying with purpose.
When only Ben and the Wizard King remained, the room felt larger.
Julius glanced at the closed doors, then back at Ben.
"You've just put the entire kingdom on edge."
Ben's expression didn't change.
"Good," he said quietly. "If something like that walks free again… I want it to feel hunted from the moment it breathes. And that flying thing I don't know where it went..."
Somewhere deep within the Clover Kingdom—
Old shelves were being opened. Forgotten pages turned. Inorder to find any lead.
William walked alone through the marble corridors, his footsteps measured, expression calm to any observer who might pass by.
Inside—
His thoughts were anything but.
The meeting replayed itself in fragments. The book. The Fallen Angels. The King's orders.
'So even this world has its own plan,' he thought.
He stopped briefly near a tall window overlooking the capital.
Far below, preparations were already underway.
Banners were being hung. Lanterns tested. Servants hurried back and forth.
The annual Magic Knight dinner.
Held at the Wizard King's palace. All captains present. All attention relaxed.
William's eyes narrowed slightly.
'The same day,' he thought. 'Perfect.'
His hand rose unconsciously to his chest, fingers brushing the fabric over his heart as his thoughts shifted to one name.
Fuegoleon Vermillion.
Fuegoleon would attend.
And more importantly—The magic stone.
Worn openly. Suspended from a chain. As if daring fate itself to take it.
Even after learning that the Eye of the Midnight Sun sought the stones, Fuegoleon continued to carry it with him.
After the king Ben has some how found their agenda and warned them.
William exhaled softly.
-Sigh
'He won't give it up,' William reasoned. 'And he won't waste it either.'
Which meant—It would have to be taken.
Calculation
The dinner would lower guards. Music would cover movement. Multiple squads would be scattered across the palace grounds.
And in the confusion—A moment.
Just one.
William's expression remained serene as he resumed walking, cloak swaying gently behind him.
'Capture, kill if must,' he reminded himself. 'Fuegoleon life is not important.'
He already began weighing routes, timings, distractions—every variable slotting neatly into place.
'The capital will be watching the celebration,' he thought. 'Not the shadows moving beneath it.'
His footsteps echoed down the corridor as he disappeared around the corner.
Above him, the palace glittered with preparation.
Below it—A plan quietly sharpened its teeth.
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(Author's POV)
(A/N)Thanks for reading the chapter!
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