CARNIS (English Version)

The sky over Los Angeles looked like a filthy sheet stretched above the city. Gray clouds hid the sun, and a cold wind sliced between the buildings. Daytona walked ahead, her steps firm, her gaze distant. Martin and Huracan followed close behind, exchanging worried glances.

Since the incident at school, Daytona had changed. Her presence had grown heavier, as if something invisible weighed down on her. People on the sidewalks averted their eyes. Cars, even with their windows up, seemed to hesitate as they passed her.

"You okay?" Martin asked for the third time that day.

"I'm fine," she replied — but without conviction.

The truth was something else.

Inside her, something simmered. A hunger. Not a simple hunger — not like what she'd felt before — but a deep thirst for living flesh. Not just any flesh: she wanted the wrong kind, the corrupted, the damned. And that worried her.

Belzebub, like a ghostly presence in her mind, finally broke the silence:

"You're maturing, Daytona. You can feel it, can't you? The difference… between hunting out of need and hunting by choice."

She didn't answer. She felt ashamed for wanting it.

Martin noticed her distraction and tried to make small talk, but Huracan only watched in silence. His eyes traced every step Daytona took, as if he could see something no one else could.

Suddenly, she stopped. The wind carried a metallic, rotten scent that made her spine tingle.

"There…" she murmured.

She veered off the sidewalk and slipped into an alley between two buildings. The ground was damp, the air reeked of mold and something dead. Further in, among dumpsters and torn trash bags, something moved.

A grotesque creature — the size of a large dog — dragged itself with effort. Its skin was thin as burnt paper, and the flesh beneath pulsed as if trying to escape its own body. It had a single yellow eye in the middle of its forehead and fingers that were far too long.

Martin took a step back.

"What the hell is that?"

Daytona walked toward the creature, her eyes beginning to glow a dull red.

"It's afraid," she said, more to herself than to them.

"This… is not normal," Huracan muttered, his fingers trembling slightly.

The creature tried to flee, dragging itself toward a dark corner between the walls — but there, the air began to creak. A thin line of red light split the empty space. Like a crack in a mirror, it widened. A tear opened in reality, a grotesque portal with edges that pulsed like living flesh.

On the other side, Daytona saw — and froze.

The sky of Setealem was made of raw muscle, crossed with glowing veins. Trees of twisted bone rose from fields of living ground. Creatures crawled in slow marches, empty-eyed, beneath black towers that seemed to grow organically from the earth.

The creature, as if hypnotized, slipped into the portal.

Daytona ran after it, instinct overriding thought. The wind spilling out of Setealem was warm and smelled of blood.

She reached out — the portal was right there. She was about to step through.

But before she could touch it, it slammed shut — like reality snapping back in place.

She stopped, her fist frozen in the air, staring at empty space. Martin and Huracan arrived seconds later, in shock.

"Was that… a portal?" Martin stammered.

Huracan didn't answer. His face had gone pale.

Daytona said nothing.

In her mind, Belzebub murmured calmly:

"That was just a glimpse. A breath of Setealem. One day, you'll walk there… not as an intruder, but as its heir."

She turned slowly to her friends.

"I saw it all. A world… different. Alive. Horrible."

"Daytona, you shouldn't have gotten so close. Setealem isn't for humans," Huracan said tensely.

She raised an eyebrow.

"And who says I'm still human?"

Silence settled for a few seconds. Martin swallowed hard.

"So that place is real… Setealem. This is demon stuff, isn't it?"

Huracan nodded.

"It's hell, Martin. But not the one you see in movies. It's where the true dark gods dwell. Every inch of that place is conscious. Even the ground wants to devour you. And Daytona saw it."

She turned and started walking back. She needed to think. She needed to understand what that portal meant, and why the creature fled there. Was it fear? Or instinct?

Belzebub's voice returned, melodic and mocking:

"Hunger… is the key. When you feed, you bind yourself to me. Every cell sings my name. And every new cell… wants to go home."

"Setealem is your home?" she thought.

"It's ours," he corrected.

Later, back at the hotel, Daytona locked herself in the bathroom and stared at her reflection. Her eyes looked normal. Her skin too. But she knew she wasn't the same.

She stood in silence for a while. Then she whispered to her reflection:

"What am I now?"

Belzebub whispered tenderly:

"You are Daytona. My champion. My devourer. The future Goddess of Setealem."

She smiled, though she didn't know why.

Outside, the city kept its usual rhythm. But something had changed.

And the portals… could open at any moment.

The library wasn't like any other. Open at three in the morning, hidden in the basement of an abandoned church in Pasadena, filled with books that seemed to breathe under cracked leather bindings — it wasn't exactly normal. But that was where Huracan had brought them.

"Is this safe?" Martin asked, eyeing the low ceiling, where cobwebs and leaks competed for space.

"Nothing's safe when it comes to Setealem," Huracan replied, pulling a thick book from a crooked shelf. "But this library was built by people who knew what they were facing. Priests, occultists, exorcists. Some paid with their lives to keep this knowledge here."

Daytona watched in silence. Since the portal had snapped shut in her face, something had burned inside her. A question, or maybe a pull. She needed to know more — about Belzebub, about Setealem, and especially… about herself.

Huracan opened the book on a stone table at the center of the room.

"Here," he pointed to an old illustration — a crude map of a world divided into seven regions, all connected by a spiral of living flesh. "Setealem isn't just a demonic realm. It's an entity itself. A plane that lives, breathes… and thinks."

"And the seven thrones?" Daytona asked, leaning closer.

Huracan turned the page.

There they were. Seven grotesque thrones drawn in black ink, each with a description beneath it.

"Each throne is ruled by one of the Seven Capital Demons," Huracan said. "They are the living embodiment of sin. And… Belzebub, Daytona… he's one of them. The third."

Daytona swallowed hard. Belzebub, silent until now, chuckled softly in her mind:

"You're doing well, my precious feast."

1️⃣ Lucifer – Pride

The First Throne, located at the Summit of the Tower of the Void.

"Lucifer is considered the king of kings. His pride shapes reality itself. They say he doesn't speak — he commands with a glance. Just looking at him can shatter your identity."

2️⃣ Satan – Wrath

The Second Throne, wrapped in an eternal battlefield.

"He doesn't think. Doesn't speak. He's pure, incarnate violence. Every time a human explodes in rage, Satan grows stronger."

3️⃣ Belzebub – Gluttony

The Third Throne, among the Infinite Towers of Flesh.

"Belzebub, or the 'Lord of the Flies,' is the king of hunger. Daytona, you… bear his mark. He's different from the others. He interacts. Chooses. Seduces."

4️⃣ Leviathan – Envy

The Fourth Throne, deep within the Black Sea of Setealem.

"Leviathan is a colossal serpent that envies the creation of others. They say it writhes endlessly beneath the ground, corroding everything with its bile."

5️⃣ Belphegor – Sloth

The Fifth Throne, motionless in a crater where time stands still.

"Belphegor has been asleep since the beginning of time. They say his sleep sustains the existence of the others. If he wakes, the world might collapse."

6️⃣ Mammon – Greed

The Sixth Throne, made of gold and bones.

"Mammon wants everything. Doesn't matter what. A demon that devours even its own offspring if it thinks they hold something of value."

7️⃣ Asmodeus – Lust

The Seventh Throne, covered in pulsating flesh and warped mirrors.

"A master of illusions. He can seduce you with any shape, any desire. Most who see him remain trapped in an eternity of pleasure that soon becomes pain."

Martin stepped back from the book, pale.

"This is… horrible. Seven gods of pure sin ruling an entire world made of living flesh?"

Huracan nodded.

"And the strangest part is that Daytona was chosen. This has never happened with a human. Belzebub usually possesses or devours. But her…"

Daytona stared at the drawing of Belzebub's throne — a monstrous chair made of open ribs, with a river of blood pouring from its base.

"Why did he choose me?" she whispered.

Belzebub answered instantly:

"Because you're hungry. And not just for flesh. You're hungry to understand, to fight, to become more. That… is irresistible."

She closed her eyes for a moment. Something was blooming inside her — not just power, but a cold certainty: she was nearing the point of no return.

"And if I want to stop?" she asked silently.

"You can try. But the feast has already begun, Daytona. And you're no longer just a guest. You're the main course… and the host."

Huracan slammed the book shut.

"From now on, everything changes. These demons… they'll feel your presence. They'll want to watch you. Some will try to corrupt you. Others, to kill you."

Martin was breathing heavily.

"But we're with you, Daytona. To the end."

She looked at them both. For a moment, the weight seemed lighter.

Then the ground trembled.

Slightly. Almost imperceptibly. As if the world itself had taken a breath.

Huracan's eyes widened.

"This isn't normal."

A subtle crack formed in the library wall — and for an instant, less than a second, a massive, unmoving black eye stared at them through the fissure.

Daytona froze.

Belzebub whispered:

"One of them… has awakened."