CARNIS (English Version)

The day dawned cloudy, as if the sky itself hesitated to bring light.

Daytona, Martin, and Huracán were gathered in the small backyard of the house, still processing what Daytona had witnessed — a glimpse of Setealem.

"So… Setealem is real." Huracán murmured, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Not just real," Daytona replied, pulling the hood of her cloak over her head. "It's inevitable."

Before they could argue further, a strange sound echoed from across the street.

A cold sensation ran down Daytona's spine — this wasn't hunger this time, it was… something else.

Belzebub whispered in her mind:

"Something different. Something wrong."

Without wasting time, the three of them ran to investigate.

They arrived at an abandoned square.

At its center, a corrupted creature — similar to the ones they had seen before — crawled on the ground, but something was off: its veins glowed gold, and its wings, though mutilated, bore angelic traces.

"What the hell is that?" Martin exclaimed.

Before Daytona could answer, the air vibrated.

And then, he appeared.

Descending from the sky in a controlled fall, a being of golden and white light, clad in shimmering armor, wielding a spear made of pure energy.

An Angel.

Daytona instinctively stepped back, her senses on high alert.

Belzebub murmured:

"Careful… not all light leads to good."

The Angel landed with a heavy thud, staring at Daytona and her friends with inhuman eyes — cold, distant.

He spoke, but his voice sounded like the chime of hundreds of distant bells.

"Humanity has failed."

"This world must be purified… by force, if necessary."

Daytona clenched her fists.

"Purify?" she repeated, disgusted.

"These corrupted beings are not the work of demons," the Angel proclaimed. "They are experiments… my creations. Soldiers for the war to come."

Huracán took a step back, horrified.

"You're saying YOU corrupted them?!"

The Angel smiled coldly.

"Demons bathe in flesh. We, in souls. Both are needed for balance."

Daytona felt her stomach turn — not from hunger, but from revulsion.

This was what Belzebub wanted her to understand: corruption wasn't the demons' monopoly.

Suddenly, without warning, the Angel raised his spear and lunged at Martin.

Daytona reacted instantly, throwing herself forward and blocking the attack with her forearm.

The force of the impact sent her flying a few meters back, but she stayed on her feet, eyes burning with fury.

Belzebub chuckled softly.

"Now this… this will get interesting."

The Angel charged again, his wings tearing through the air.

Daytona dodged at the last moment and countered with a punch — not her full strength yet, but enough to make the being stagger back.

Martin and Huracán started throwing rocks and anything they could find to distract the enemy.

The fight was tense: the Angel wasn't just strong — he was precise, calculating.

Every move was like a perfect dance of war.

Daytona knew she couldn't win with brute force alone.

She had to use her cunning.

She did what Belzebub had taught her: wait for the mistake.

The Angel lunged again, aiming for her chest. Daytona pretended to fall back but rolled to the side at the last second, grabbing one of his mutilated wings.

With a brutal yank, she tore half the wing off.

The Angel screamed — not in pain, but in pure rage.

"FILTH!" he roared.

Daytona seized the opening and landed a clean punch to his stomach, slamming him into a nearby wall.

When the dust settled, the Angel was already dissolving, his form breaking apart into golden fragments.

But his voice lingered in the air:

"Judgment will come. You will be the first to fall."

Silence fell over the square.

Martin approached Daytona, panting.

"What… what was that?"

Daytona pulled her hood back up, staring at where the Angel had vanished.

"The truth," she said coldly.

Belzebub, pleased, added:

"The light, my dear Daytona… can be as ravenous as the darkness."

And in that moment, as the wind whistled through the dead trees around the square, Daytona knew her path had changed.

She wouldn't just fight demons anymore.

She would fight corruption in all its forms — even those disguised as holiness.

The sun was already setting on the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange. The wind, once gentle, now carried a sense of tension, as if something was about to happen. Daytona stood at the window of the hotel room in Los Angeles, deep in thought. She still felt the weight of the responsibility she had carried since the night Belzebub entered her life. But now, there was something else — something moving in the shadows, waiting to challenge her.

Huracán and Martin sat at the table, surrounded by books and notebooks, trying to make sense of what was happening to her. They were searching for answers, and despite the heavy energy in the air, they knew they needed to act before it was too late.

"I still don't get it," Martin said, flipping through the pages of an old book. "Angels… Have you ever thought maybe that's what's really behind all this? Not just demons?"

Daytona turned to him, her expression softening slightly. She had already faced demons. Now, angels seemed like an entirely different threat, but the idea of hunting beings of light made her uneasy. There was a darkness inside her driving her to seek answers, but she didn't know if she could handle yet another threat.

"What do you mean by that?" Daytona asked, her voice almost a whisper.

Huracán, who had been watching what Martin was scribbling, looked at her with a serious gaze, as if he'd just realized something important.

"I have a theory, but it has to make sense. These 'angels' are like our opposites, right? Belzebub is a demon, but what about angels? What do we really know about them? We need to understand their ranks."

The silence in the room grew heavier. Daytona sat down next to Martin, leaning over the open books. She felt the weight of Huracán's words. Angels? The word sounded so foreign to everything she knew, yet now it didn't feel so distant.

Martin, always precise, pulled out another thick book and started flipping through the pages quickly.

"Here. Angels… There are four main ranks. Look — the first are just Angels, the most common ones. Beings of light that serve to protect humanity, but they're relatively weak compared to the rest. But the most interesting are the Archangels."

Huracán raised an eyebrow.

"Archangels? They're stronger?"

"Exactly." Martin continued, as if he'd just unlocked a major clue. "Archangels are like top-tier warriors. They can destroy entire cities if needed — they're like generals of a celestial war. But there's more. The next rank are the Seraphim."

"Seraphim…" Daytona murmured, the word sounding familiar. "Seraphim"… she knew she'd heard that before. There was something terrifying in the idea.

"They're known as the living flames of Heaven. Literally, they control sacred fire, an immense energy that can purify and destroy just as easily. They're extremely rare, and only the strongest are classified as Seraphim."

Daytona leaned on her hands, feeling a strange heat inside her. There was something unsettling about how the word fire echoed in her mind — not just fire, but something visceral and hungry, like a flame that couldn't be extinguished.

"But the last rank…" Martin looked at Huracán, as if ready to reveal the darkest secret. "Cherubim. They're the most powerful of all angels. They guard the gates to the higher realms, and most of the time, they protect secrets no mortal can comprehend. They're practically invincible, and even Belzebub fears them."

That last sentence hung heavy in the air. Daytona looked at Huracán, who kept his eyes down, as if trying to decipher the importance of that information.

"That's… a lot," Daytona murmured, feeling the weight of the words. "But what do they want with me?"

"Good question," Huracán said, standing up and walking to the window. He looked out at the horizon. "Maybe the fact that Belzebub is inside you is like a magnet for them. They're not just the demons' opposites — they could be something even more dangerous. Like you."

The idea of being hunted by celestial beings began to pound in Daytona's head. She had never thought angels could be her enemies. But now she knew that just as Belzebub had his own legion of demons, she might be facing something far bigger.

Suddenly, a low, hissing voice echoed in her mind. It was Belzebub.

"They're nothing but lost souls hiding behind the light, girl. Don't be fooled by their masks."

Daytona closed her eyes for a moment, feeling Belzebub's power seep back into her mind. It wasn't an invasive presence — it was familiar, almost comforting, making her wonder how far she'd go for this so-called "light."

"And you?" Daytona asked with a bitter laugh. "What's your game, Belzebub? What do you really want?"

The answer was quick, laced with irony.

"I am gluttony. But in the end, what all angels want is to consume what's left of us. They're just like you, Daytona. They just prefer to wear purity like a costume."

The room's air grew heavier. Belzebub's words made Daytona feel like she was already on a battlefield — one where choosing a side wasn't so simple. Angels or demons — they all seemed to play the same game, just with different rules.

"I still don't get it," Martin said, breaking Daytona's thoughts. He closed the book and looked at the others. "If angels are so powerful, what do they want from us? And how do we fight something that strong?"

"They don't have clear motives," Huracán replied, turning to face them. "Angels don't act like demons. They don't have the same hunger. They're more… ideological. They want to cleanse the earth — purify it. They see pain as a means to reach something greater. They don't care about suffering."

Daytona felt a chill crawl up her spine. The idea of "purification" in such a cruel way unsettled her. She looked at the two of them, feeling an urgent need to understand what this meant for her — for her very existence. Maybe she was no longer in control of her own life.

Night fell, and the darkness seemed to echo Daytona's restless thoughts. She lay down on the bed, Belzebub's words still echoing in her mind. What did he mean by "they want to consume what's left of us"? What was she really now?

She tried to push the thoughts away, but Belzebub's voice came back, closer than before.

"You can't run, girl. They don't know what you carry. But I do."

Daytona's eyes shot open. She sat up, gasping, feeling her heart race. Something was happening. It wasn't just exhaustion or the pressure of everything she faced — it was something deeper.

She closed her eyes again, trying to find a moment of peace. But when the vision of Setealem appeared before her eyes, she knew there was something she had to face.

Suddenly, the space around her seemed to bend, reality folding in on itself. A vast black expanse appeared before her eyes — an endless void where a strange wind howled. In the center of that void, a black cloak floated in the air, as if it had been waiting for her.

The cloak looked simple, but something about it resonated within Daytona — as if, deep down, she knew it had been waiting for her all along. As she stepped closer, her hands trembled, but something inside her calmed. She put on the cloak, and the moment was marked by a sense of belonging — as if, for the first time, she was becoming whole.

"Now you're ready," Belzebub's voice echoed in her mind. "This cloak will protect you. But remember — it won't make you immortal. It will only make you stronger."

Daytona looked around, but all she saw was the void. Nothing else remained there.

And when she woke up, the cloak was on her bed, as if it had been a vision. But when she touched it, she knew it was with her now — always. Something had changed. She wasn't just carrying the traces of darkness anymore. Now, she was part of it.