BOOM.
The meteoroid-like fireball tore through the sky, crashing into the forest beyond the mansion where Micafer stood. The impact was immense—so fierce the very earth trembled. Dust spiraled outward in a great wave, blurring the world in its wake. Even the stars above seemed to pause, acknowledging the arrival of something... unknown.
Micafer wasn't the only one who noticed.
Three men sprinted toward the impact zone. Their destination lay beyond him, but their paths inevitably crossed.
He turned at the sound of synchronized footsteps. His eyes widened.
Before him stood three identical men—same height, same skin tone, same eyes, same face. They resembled perfect reflections of each other, all clad in crisp white uniforms adorned with two golden stars on their shoulders. Only their nameplates etched in gold differentiated them:
Bishop Joel. Bishop Jake. Bishop Jude.
Jake was the first to speak, his voice sharp and commanding.
"Go back inside, young man. The air might feel fresh now, but it won't last. Things are about to change."
He clearly thought Micafer belonged to the mansion.
"We don't have time to waste," Jude growled, eager to move. "There are others who truly need saving."
Joel, the calmest of the three, slowed as he passed. His eyes lingered on Micafer with a piercing gaze—uncertain, cautious—but he said nothing. Then, as one, the bishops vanished into the trees.
Micafer watched them go. A strange bitterness stirred in him, mingled with curiosity.
"So those three were once blessings—gifts to someone who chose to abort them. What a loss," he muttered with a twisted grin.
He smirked, eyes gleaming.
"They look... interesting."
With that crooked smile, Micafer made his decision. He would follow them.
He merged with the shadows, teleporting silently from branch to branch, a ghost among trees.
---
The bishops arrived at a devastated campsite. Tents lay in tatters. The ground was ruptured at the center, where a massive black egg had cracked open.
Whatever had hatched was gone.
"Damn it," Jude cursed. "We're too late."
"There were people here," Jake murmured, scanning the area. "They couldn't have gone far."
"Then let's split—" Jude started, but Joel raised a hand.
"Their will be no need for that." Joel mummured.
From behind rocks, trees, and other broken remnants, corpses emerged.
Once human. Now desecrated.
Their brains had been devoured—replaced. Hollow sockets glowed with cursed flames of white, red, and black. Fire that did not burn with heat, but with agony.
Dozens of them closed in, speaking with one voice:
"This planet is ours."
The bishops formed a triangle, backs together, hands glowing faintly.
Joel narrowed his eyes, scanning the corrupted husks.
"Their alien hosts have amplified their core presence—doubling their original strength. But none should be able to stand before our Queen."
"You want us to use our trump card on these things?" Jake muttered.
Above them, Micafer crouched, hidden in the shadows. The sight didn't frighten him—he'd seen worse. But still...
"i wouldn'trank them lowly if i were you," he whispered to himself.
"Ready or not," Jude said grimly.
Together, the bishops formed a line, linking hands.
A blinding light surged from their bodies, divine cores intertwining. In that moment, they became something else—Temporary Popes. Their auras multiplied, rising from 2,000 to a combined 4,000 core presence. The sheer pressure forced Micafer to retreat, teleporting away just before the shadows betrayed him.
The animated husks lunged, with eerie sentience all enclosing at one point.
The bishops retaliated.
"Divine Aspect: Cruel Sun!" they roared.
A blazing sun erupted above them, casting eternal daylight. The cursed humans evaporated before they could scream like shadows chased away by light.
But amidst that brilliance... someone remained.
A silhouette. Unmoved.
Darkness writhed around him, resisting the light.
Joel's eyes narrowed.
"Isn't that... Krogor?"
"What the hell is that idiot doing here?" Jake spat.
"Since when could he withstand a Divine Aspect?" Jude whispered, stunned and terrified
Joel activated his Byakugan—his personal Divine Aspect. Light surged through his eyes as he analyzed the figure.
"he's protected not by his own power but by an alien and his wills to sell to it his soul."
"Why would an elite like him do such a thing?" Jake asked, dismayed.
Joel answered with a grim smile.
"Dark-cored humans are never satisfied with their raw power, nevertheless always wanted to surpass everyone."
"Even at the expense of his life," Jake muttered.
"Pray you last my friends!", Krogor mocked form afar "and make sure its a prayer for a happy death!". A crunky smiled created on his face as he laughter out loud in a disoriented rhyme.
A spider structured alien crawled on Krogor's left arm, it's eyes numbered about six arranged in a distinctive front-facing layout, it's segmented legs pulsed with cursed dark flames and form its end protruded sharp extensions likely adapted for borrowing into host and it's mouth, like that of a fish, circular and within it teeth's numbered countless and a slimly violent liquid drawledout of it. It's whole structure— fluid like but intact, humming with dark presence not of this world but form the very kitchen of hell. It headed for the the exterior opening if Krogor's ear with purpose.
The bishops moved—too late.
With a sickening squelch, the parasite slithered inside his skull.
Krogor convulsed.
Then went still.
His consciousness... gone.
His core pulsed—and doubled.
The air turned heavy, saturated with unholy pressure.
The transformation was complete.
Darkness roared from Krogor like volcanic fire, clashing against the sun in open defiance.
"We're equals now," Joel muttered.
The bishops launched forward—Jude to the right, Jake to the left, Joel straight ahead.
Joel struck first while Krogor retaliatedin defence. Their powers clashed in a terrifying deadlock. Jake and Jude followed, hitting Krogor with explosive force—but his skin was obsidian diamond. His aura, suffocating.
Then—four extra arms burst from his sides like hanging bullets.
The bishops leapt back.
From the trees, Micafer reappeared.
"The atmosphere's tense," he murmured, studying the battlefield. "They're evenly matched… but the bishops look strained. They don't have the upper hand."
Krogor spoke—or rather, the alien did. Its voice fractured and warped.
"We... are Vorgulons. And domination is our purpose."
Krogor clutched his face, twitching in barely restrained madness.
Then came the whisper, low and reverent:
"Divine Aspect."
Silence fell.
"Did... did he say Divine Aspect?" Jake whispered, shaken.
Micafer smirked.
"Tch. Even that brat has one? Is everyone surpassing me?"
"Cocoon of Infernal Darkness"
A massive black shell wrapped in darkness above Krogor like a hell moon humming with cursed energy, ut presence was enough to create a balance betweenithe fackness and lightthat now scurgedthe entire terrain. The bishops recognized it—Krogor's Divine Aspect—but now on a completely different level.
The bishops responded with haste, blasting a stream of divine fire toward the cocoon.
But Krogor retaliated. A beam of cursed darkness met the sunbeam midair.
Micafer's eyes widened.
"Equal forces… They're canceling each other even befor touching."
He knew.
"This… is my chance ." He muttered then a crunky but uncertain smile curved on his face, "to transform an ineffective explosion into a weapon."
No shadows to teleport. Only will.
He sprinted forward.
"If this ends me... at least I'll die finding out who I am."
He leapt into the center of the collision—divine fire to his right, cursed darkness to his left.
But they didn't kill him.
They charged him.
"He's trying to die!" Jude shouted.
But what followed silenced them.
Micafer stood—unharmed.
Glowing with terrible, impossible power.
Light and darkness fused within him. Shadows danced around his feet like sentient flame. His eyes blazed. His hair lengthened. His aura cracked the earth beneath, forcing it to bow.
He had become something else.
An Archshadow.
Temporarily—but terrifyingly.
Earth itself shivered in response, with a roaring vibration.
His eyes locked on Krogor.
Only one emotion stirred: superiority.
He raised one hand.
From his body burst a torrent of energy—neither light nor darkness, but both. The pure force of neutral balance.
BOOM.
The blast struck Krogor before he could react.
Obliterated him.
Only a scream remained—for the Vorgulon.
Micafer turned to the sky. From his eyes and mouth, the last remnants of power escaped. Then—he collapsed.
His final thought echoed:
"This feeling... I'll make it a normality."
The ground quaked one last time, cradling his unconscious body.
The bishops stared at him in stunned silence.
A single thought unified them:
Something new has been born—something terrifying.