*[Scene: Evening Streets – Earth Town Outskirts]*
Aisha and Neferatia are walking back from work, arms filled with groceries, street lanterns flickering to life as the sun sets. They're laughing and chatting.
*Neferatia (grinning):*
"I swear, the way you almost served that guy vinegar instead of ale was WILD."
*Aisha (snorting):*
"In my defense, I thought it was a potion."
They both laugh.
Aisha suddenly halts, staring at a *Tournament Poster* pasted on a stone wall.
*Aisha (excited):*
"What's this? A battle of strength and skill?! Could we attend?!"
*Neferatia (smiling):*
"Oh yeah! That's the king's yearly show. It's in two weeks. Bit of a big deal… lots of muscle, drama, and royal nonsense."
*Aisha (sparkling eyes):*
"Let's go! I want to see mortals fight with... sticks and shiny pans."
*Neferatia:*
"If we save up from the bar tips, totally. I'll even buy us roasted corn."
They giggle and continue walking, carrying their market goods.
*Suddenly —*
Three shady *thugs* step out from an alley, smirking.
*Thug #1:*
"Look what the wind dragged in. Fancy dress girl and her sidekick."
*Thug #2 (eyeing Aisha):*
"Wanna come 'talk' with us, princess?"
Neferatia tightens her grip on the bags and pulls Aisha closer.
*Neferatia:*
"Keep walking."*Thug #3:*
"I wasn't asking."
He *grabs Neferatia's wrist*. She turns and *slaps* him hard.
*Thug (furious):*
"You'll regret that."
He throws a punch, knocking Neferatia down.
*Aisha (face darkens):*
"…You really shouldn't have done that."
She closes her eyes and mutters a whisper in *Ozmirax*, her aura flaring faintly.
*In a blink, she vanishes.*
The thugs blink in confusion. Then—
*WHOOSH—BAM—POW!*
Aisha appears behind each one, *kicking, flipping, and slamming* them with casual grace. Two land in a nearby cabbage cart.
The last thug sees glowing marks on her hand and *runs screaming*.
*Neferatia (on the ground, stunned):*
"Wha—what... are you?"
Aisha helps her up calmly, brushing her off.
*Aisha (bored expression):*
"My uncle taught me some tricks. Real naggy fellow. Keeps yelling about stance."
*Neferatia (still stunned):*
"Girl… next time, you're teaching *me* that trick."
*Aisha (smirking):*
"Sure. But we start with cabbage dodging."
They both laugh and continue walking home under the moonlight.
*[Scene: Tournament Selection Grounds – Early Morning]*
A massive field sprawls with *thousands (5,000+) of eager contestants*, some flexing, some stretching, others praying to every known deity.
Giant *banners flutter*, bearing the royal crest. Trumpets blare as the *Coordinator*, a burly man with a voice like a war drum, steps forward with scroll in hand and a booming voice:
*Coordinator (yelling):*
"Alright, listen up, brave souls and muscleheads! This isn't a picnic—this is the *Royal Might Trials!* Only the worthy will earn the right to participate in the tournament before the King!"
*[PHYSICAL ABILITY TEST]*
Behind him, a series of *testing stations* are revealed:
- *Ten-stacked stone bricks* layered beneath a *200kg iron slab* – contestants must *break the bottom brick* without cracking the rest.
- *Vertical log smash*: a massive hanging log must be stopped mid-swing with bare hands.
- *War hammer hoist*: lift a 100kg war hammer over your head and hold it for 5 seconds.
*[SPEED TEST]*
Next, a *long, 500-meter straight lane* lined with flags. Contestants are to sprint while carrying *a sand-filled barrel* on their backs.
- Minimum time to beat: *30 seconds.*
*[STRENGTH-ENDURANCE]*Contestants will *drag a chained boulder* (size of a wagon) across a muddy path for 50 meters.
*Coordinator (grinning):*
"You drop out? You're out!
You trip? You're out!
You cry for your mom? *Definitely out!*"
*[CUT TO – Palace Pinnacle]*
The *King* sits on an elevated viewing tower, alongside the *Queen*, his ever-smirking *eldest son (Reigar)*, and two younger children, all in lavish robes.
*King (leaning forward):*
"Let the fun begin."
*Reigar (cocky smile):*
"Let's see if any fool makes it to round two. They always break at the barrel sprint."
*[CUT BACK TO FIELD]*
A massive *horn blows*.
*Coordinator (shouting):*
"BEGIN!!"
Crowds roar. Dust kicks up. Muscles strain. Bones creak. Dreams break. And so, the selection has begun…
*[Scene: Tournament Selection Grounds – Midday]*
The sun blazes overhead. Dust floats in the air. Cheers and gasps rise from the crowd as contestant after contestant is eliminated.
*[Strength-Endurance Station – Boulder Drag Test]*
*Modeus*, standing coolly with his mask on, steps up. He turns to *Mia*, grinning beneath the mask.
*Modeus:*
"Wish me luck."
*Mia (arms crossed, smirking):*
"Like the devil needs luck anyway..."
Modeus steps forward, grabs the *chained wagon-sized boulder*, and with one hand, *drags it smoothly* across the 50-meter stretch — like it weighed nothing. Gasps echo. A few contestants stop what they're doing just to stare.
*Coordinator (stunned):*
"Well… damn. That's clean. NEXT!"
*[Speed Test – Barrel Sprint]*
Modeus returns casually. *Mia steps forward*, adjusting the *sand-filled barrel* on her back.
*Modeus:*
"Good luck."
*Mia (mocking):*
"I don't need the devil's luck either."
Horn blows — Mia takes off like a storm. Sand kicks up. She *outruns all contestants*, even some still halfway down the lane. The crowd bursts into cheers.
*[Palace Pinnacle]*
*Queen (whispering):*
"That one's quick…"
*King (thoughtful):*
"Hmph. Watch her."
*[Back on the field]*
Mia returns, flicking her braid smugly.
*Mia:*"See? No demonic luck required."
*Lyon (sitting, clearly bored):*
"Alright, lovebirds, wrap it up. Some of us have dodging to do."
He stretches, puts on his *masked gear*, and walks to the *swiftness and evasion lane*, which is rigged with *moving traps, swinging blades, and magical arrows.*
*Modeus:*
"You sure he's capable?"
*Mia (teasing):*
"He dodges chores and responsibilities. Should be a breeze."
*Lyon (grinning):*
"I'm the best dodger in the family."
Horn blows — Lyon *glides, spins, flips* through all traps with exaggerated flair. He even *poses mid-dodge*, earning laughs from the crowd.
*Coordinator (chuckling):*
"Showoff... but passed!"
*[Montage of other contestants failing]*
Falls. Trips. Bruised pride. Shattered hopes.
*End result:*
*1,000 contestants passed. 4,000 eliminated.*
The next stage awaits...
*[Scene: Local Bar – Late Evening]*
The bar is dimly lit, buzzing with end-of-day chatter. Neferatia and *Aisha*, now changed into their waitress uniforms, finish cleaning tables and chatting behind the counter.
*[Cut to: Door opens with a *creak*]*
*Modeus* steps in, cloaked in his usual casual outfit — hair slightly messy, expression still brooding from earlier events. He makes his way to his usual corner seat.
*Bartender (nervously):*
"S-Same as usual, sir?"
*Modeus (grunts):*
"Yeah."
The drink is served without delay. He sips slowly, eyes half-lidded, clearly trying to decompress.
*[Nearby drunken men laughing loudly]*
*Customer #1:*
"Yo, that new waitress? The cute one? I'd sell my cow to marry her!"
*Customer #2 (snickering):*
"She smiled at me. I'm convinced she's my soulmate."
Modeus, overhearing this, *rolls his eyes* and continues drinking — uninterested.
*Customer #3:*
"Yeah, the pale one... green eyes, crazy gorgeous hair... what's her name again?"
*Customer #2:*
"Neferatia calls her Aisha or something."
*Modeus (mid-sip — FREEZES)*
His eye twitches. His drink *halts mid-air*.
*Modeus (mutters):*
"...Aisha?"
He slowly turns his head toward the bar... squints.
*[POV shot: Aisha laughing and drying a mug behind the counter with Neferatia]*
*Modeus:*
*Spits his drink out dramatically.*
*Modeus (in Ozmirax, growling):*
"Are you kidding me right now…"
His aura *spikes briefly* before he shoves it back down to avoid alarming the mortals.
*Aisha (feeling the spike faintly, turns her head in confusion):*
"Hmm?"
Neferatia: "You okay?"
*Aisha:*
"I felt something… probably indigestion. That soup had onions."
She shrugs and goes back to work.
*Modeus (facepalming hard):*
"She's working… in a bar…"
Cut to black. *To be continued…*
*[Scene: Abaddon Ha'Sheol – War Room, Dimly Lit, Elite Forces Lined Up]*
*Varron* stands at the front, armored, hands behind his back, eyes serious. Around him are the elite members of the special force — cloaked, disciplined, deadly.
*Varron (firmly):*
"Alright. Listen closely. We have *two days* — I repeat — *two days* to retrieve the princess before Lord Modeus flips this entire realm upside down."
*[Soldiers shift uncomfortably at the mention of Modeus's wrath]*
*Varron:*
"She's out there… on Earth. Wandering cluelessly, yes, but don't underestimate her. She's not just royalty — she's absurdly skilled. Stronger than most of you combined… *and* unpredictable."
*Elite Captain (raises brow):*
"If she's that dangerous, why not send enforcers?"
*Varron (glares):*
"Because *we're* not trying to start a war with the human realm. Use discretion. Diplomacy. But…"
*(leans forward slightly)*
"If she resists, or makes it impossible — use *extremo measures*. Contain, distract, trap. But no harm unless absolutely necessary."
*[Elite squad nods in sync]*
*Varron (paces slowly):*
"She's clever — but impulsive. Use illusions. Decoys. Don't chase her head-on; *corner* her. If she smells a setup, she'll vanish."
*He pauses. Then adds gravely:*"If we fail… it's not just our heads. It's the realm."
*[Quick cut montage of them suiting up, grabbing enchanted cuffs, cloaks, spell tech, disguises. Portal opens.]*
*Varron (final command):*
"Bring. Her. Back."
*[They step into the portal and vanish.]
*[Scene: Constantine Estate – Control Chamber]*
*Alarm blares again* as the detectors flash violently, the energy core surging erratically but stabilizing just before explosion.
*Johan (irritated, pacing):*
"Oh, for crying out loud! AGAIN?! What is this, a magical open house??"
*Technician:*
"Sir, it's going critical — but didn't detonate this time. The energy spike is... different. More refined. Possibly restrained."
*Johan (sarcastically):*
"Oh, so *they're learning manners now?* How polite. Alright, enough of this! Deploy a scout team — full gear, cloak mode, don't engage unless necessary."
*He rubs his temple.*
"And someone bring me coffee... laced with patience."
*[Cut to: Calavera Citadel – Sensor Tower]*
*Matron Calavera stares at the readings, eyes narrowed.*
*Matron:*
"This is the third surge in days... and not a single clue about who's causing them. We're being mocked."
*Advisor:*
"Should we sound the alarm again?"
*Matron (gritting her teeth):*
"No. But assemble a covert unit. Stealth-only. If this *visitor* dares meddle in our turf, I want them tagged, tracked, and trailed."
*[Split-screen of Constantine and Calavera squads prepping at their bases, gearing up with enchanted tools, cloaks, and tracking relics.]*
*Johan (to himself):**[Scene: Quiet Earth City Street – Late Afternoon]*
*Modeus (undercover as "Kovar") is walking back from town, casually holding a brown paper bag with a few items. The street is mostly empty. As he turns a corner near the inn, he bumps into Mira (Kya), who's been posing undercover and tracking him as part of her assignment. She quickly composes herself.*
*Mira (smiling lightly):*
"Well, look who finally decided to show his face again."
*Kovar (grinning):*
"Missed me already? That's bold."
*Mira (playing along):*
"Missed the free entertainment. Where you heading?"
*Kovar:*
"My inn. Figured I'd take a break before I find trouble."
*Mira:*
"Mind if I tag along? Still curious what a wandering merchant like you calls 'home'."
*Kovar (mock serious):*
"As long as you don't judge the mess. It's organized chaos."
*[Cut to: Kovar's Inn Apartment – Early Evening]*
They enter his single-room apartment in a small, quiet inn. The room is dimly lit with the amber glow of a lantern. The space is *filled with souvenirs and items from his travels across Earth* — a *Spanish-style woven tapestry* hangs near the bed, a *set of hand-carved African masks* lines one wall, *Persian rugs*, *clay pots from a local village*, *ink sketches*, and a *wooden flute* sit on a cluttered table. The *furniture is an eclectic mix*, clearly collected from different regions over time.
*Mira (walking in slowly):*
"You weren't kidding… this place is something."
*Kovar (setting down the bag):*
"Picked up a few things on the road. Makes the room feel less empty."
*Mira (running her hand across a carved box):*
"This is from the East… Did you go there?"
*Kovar:*
"Traded spices for that one. And nearly got stabbed over it. Good times."
*Mira (amused):*
"You're full of stories, huh?"
*Kovar:*
"Only the ones that don't get me arrested."
*They both chuckle. Mira continues scanning the room with growing curiosity — not just at the objects, but at the man who's clearly more than he claims.*
*Mira:*
"You've seen a lot."
*Kovar (leaning back on a wooden stool):*
"Enough to know that people are the same everywhere. Some kind, some cruel. Most just tired."
*Mira (quiet for a moment):*
"You ever get tired?"
*Kovar (smirks):*
"Only when I stop moving."
*There's a beat of silence as Mira studies him, still unsure who — or what — he really is. But for now, he's just "Kovar," a charming wanderer with too many trinkets and too few answers.*
*[Scene: Modeus' Inn Apartment – Night]*
*The warm golden light flickers from the old lantern in the corner. Mira sits comfortably on a cushion, while Modeus ("Kovar") leans against the window, sipping something light. Mira, determined, starts inching the conversation deeper.*
*Mira (smiling slyly):*
"You sure talk a lot about where you've been, but not much about who you are."
*Kovar (grinning):*
"That's because where I've been is more interesting than who I am."
*Mira (leaning closer):*
"Then maybe I should find out the interesting way…"
*She leans in slowly, her eyes locking on his, trying to move in for a kiss. Modeus doesn't move — not until the last second, when he casually tilts his head away and steps back.*
*Mira (surprised):*
"What? You don't like girls who ask too many questions?"
*Modeus (coldly):*
"I'd be happy to answer your questions and maybe even grant your little desire…
*If you stop pretending.*
Drop the glamour."
*Mira freezes, the air shifts. Her shock turns into visible irritation. Without saying a word, she pulls out a *charm necklace* glowing faintly. She lunges, snapping it onto Modeus' neck. A faint humming sound pulses through the room.*
*She drops her glamour. Her true self — *Kya Calavera* — emerges. Her eyes burn with intensity, her aura heavy.*
*Kya (smirking):*
"Congratulations. You caught me. But don't get cocky."
*She takes a step back, arms folded.*
*Kya:*
"That necklace? A Calavera heirloom. Designed to *suppress supernatural abilities*.
So unless your 'world tour' included immunity to ancient relics, you're not going anywhere."
*Modeus stands there, still calm, looking mildly amused.*
*Kya (mocking):*
"You're not so scary without your tricks, 'Kovar.'
You'll make a lovely trophy when I take you back home."
*She pulls out a *silver-laced dagger*, the kind that could tear through ethereal beings.*
*Kya:*
"Cooperate, or I carve you into something my mom can hang on the wall."
*There's a long silence.
Then — *SNAP* — Modeus grabs the necklace chain and casually *breaks it like a twig.* The sound echoes.*
*Kya's face twists in horror.*
*Kya (gasping):*
"W-What?! That's impossible—!"
*She panics, dropping a *small ornate device* on the floor — a timed bomb. She dashes toward the window and leaps out just as it starts ticking.*
*BOOM!*
*The room erupts in flames — but when the smoke clears, Modeus stands untouched, brushing soot off his coat.*
*Modeus (muttering):*
"Tacky."
*He utters a single word in a forgotten tongue. The room begins to reverse — *furniture reconstructs*, *walls seal back*, *glass returns to the window.*
All back to normal.
*He smirks faintly and looks toward the window.*
*Modeus:*
"Now that… was interesting."
*Fade out.*
*[Scene: Neferatia's Apartment – Evening]*
*The small kitchen flickers with warm firelight as Neferatia stirs a pot of stew. Aisha is calmly peeling vegetables, her expression distant. Suddenly—*
*BOOM!!!*
*A dull explosion rumbles through the district. The window rattles. Neferatia gasps, nearly dropping the spoon.*
*Neferatia (startled):*
"What the hell was that?!"
*Aisha freezes for a second, eyes narrowing as she subtly senses something in the air. A *tingle of ancient magic* flickers in her senses. Her pupils briefly glow.*
*Aisha (coldly):*
"…That was no ordinary blast."
*Before Neferatia can ask anything, Aisha bolts—leaping out the window in one fluid motion.*
*Neferatia (screaming):*
"Wait—AIISSHAA!! Do you know how high this is?!"
*Aisha dashes across rooftops, tracking the fading magical trace. She pauses, frustrated, as the trail vanishes completely.*
*Aisha (to herself):*
"Only *one* person casts like that… Big Bubu… why are you hiding from me?"
---
*[Scene: Back at the apartment]*
*Aisha returns through the front door, Neferatia stares at her holding a ladle like a sword.*
*Neferatia:*
"You jumped out of a *third-story* window! What even are you?!"
*Aisha sits calmly, brushing dust off.*
*Aisha:*"I sensed an ancient spell. Strong. And… familiar."
*Neferatia (bewildered):*
"Ancient spell? Are you telling me magic is actually *real*?"
*Aisha (tilting her head):*
"You don't believe in magic?"
*Neferatia:*
"Well… the Constantine's and Calavera families use them—through ancient books or enchanted tools—but nobody just *does* magic."
*Aisha raises a finger. Without a word, a *small flame* appears and dances gently at her fingertip. No incantation. No tool. Just will.*
*Neferatia (jumping back):*
"WHA—YOU—WHAT—YOU JUST—DID—MAGIC!!"
*She grabs a cloth and starts fanning the fire like it's contagious.*
"Did you drink a potion? Summon a demon? Did you *cheat* somehow?"
*Aisha (confused):*
"Born with it. My family's one of the oldest lineages of magic users. It's... in our blood."
*Neferatia (dumbfounded):*
"Girl… I don't know what an *'Abafon Shekel'* is or wherever you're from—"
*Aisha:*
"Abaddon Ha'Sheol."
*Neferatia:*
"Right, *that.* But you gotta teach me how to shoot fireballs."
*Aisha chuckles softly, but her face soon shifts to concern.*
*Aisha (quietly):*
"I'm sure the magic I felt… was my brother's. But why… why is he hiding from me?"
*Neferatia (placing a hand on her shoulder):*
"Hey… maybe he's scared. Or doesn't want trouble.
I'll ask around. If anyone's seen something *weird*, I'll hear it.
People gossip like crazy after shifts."
*Aisha gives a faint smile as they both return to the stove.*
*Neferatia (muttering):*
"Fireballs in the kitchen... girl, Earth was not ready for you."
*They laugh faintly as the pot boils again.*
*[Fade out.]*