"I'm sorry, kid. You failed. Again."
The words ring through Mox's ears as he wanders the Rose Garden Park in Eden, the capital city of New Enos. This isn't the first time he's heard them — for this was the third time he has take the Devil Hunter's Initiate Exam and he has failed it the last three years.
"I just don't get it," Moxley Gates — though he prefers Mox — mutters, his head hanging low with shame. "I ace the physical exam. I finish near the top of the practice hunts every single time. But I fail the written portion. Every. Single. Time."
He kicks a small rock with the tip of his black steel-toed boot. It whistles through the air and slams into a tree. Instead of bouncing off, it buries itself deep in the bark.
Mox walks up, yanks the rock free, and sighs. "Sorry 'bout that, tree. You didn't do anything to me." Sliding down with his back against the tree, he settles into the grass.
"Well another year until the next exam. Guess I'll have to read all those books one more time…" He exhales heavily, already dreading another round of late nights in the library, fighting sleep while staring at pages about Devils and the art of hunting.
But if it takes him a hundred more tries, so be it. For as long as he can remember, Mox has wanted to be a Devil Hunter. His story isn't unique in New Enos: a child with a loving mother, stolen away by a Devil's rampage.
Mox never really knew her — the attack happened when he was only two years old and with his father long gone before his birth, that left him in an orphanage full of children with tragedies of their own.
At least he found family there — and a mother figure in Captain Greta Ross, a retired Devil Hunter who spends her twilight years being a beacon for at-risk children. She's also one of the reason Mox wants to join the Society.
When the children asked, Captain Ross would share stories from her hunting days. None of the little ones were more captivated than Mox. Every story affirmed what he knew: one day, he would join the Devil Hunter Society. And when he did, he would become the best Hunter it had ever seen.
As the skies turn a warm reddish-orange, Mox pushes himself off the grass with a grunt and heads toward the library. No sense sulking when he can cram more knowledge into his head.
The Public Library of Eden looms ahead, a massive stone building whose weathered walls show how long it has stood proudly in the city. For Mox, it's a second home.
He pushes through the solid oak doors and is immediately greeted by the kind face of the librarian.
"Good evening, young Moxley. What brings you here? Wasn't today the Initiate Exam?"
Mox chuckles sheepishly. "Yeah… failed the written portion again."
The librarian's face falls, then softens into a smile. "How bad this time, boy?"
"The only thing I got right was my name."
A brief silence hangs before the librarian bursts into laughter, tears welling in his eyes. "Jeez, kid. Is there even a brain up there?"
Mox's face flushes. "Hey! That's not funny!" he snaps, but the old man just shakes his head, still chuckling.
"Oh, lighten up, lad," the librarian says, wiping tears from his eyes. "You'll pass soon enough. The Society needs more Hunters like you in their ranks. Run along and study hard."
Mox nods with a small smile and heads to the Devil Hunter section, stocked with books approved by the DHS for public viewing.
He scours the shelves for volumes on terminology and the Society's history. Once he gathers a tall stack, he tries to make his way to a table. The pile blocks his vision, and he accidentally bumps into someone, sending the books tumbling to the floor.
"Hey, watch where you're—well, look who it is, boys. The three-time failure himself. Moxie," the boy Mox bumped into says to his two friends, voice dripping with superiority. All three wear the Devil Hunter uniform, their Initiate badges glinting.
Mox grits his teeth at the mispronunciation. "It's Moxley. Sorry, I never caught your name." The boy sneers, then notices Mox's books.
"Don't tell me you're still studying. When will you give it up? You're not cut out to be a Devil Hunter."
His friends snicker. Mox feels his face warming with frustration. "Shut your mouth. I'll pass that exam, and I'll become a Devil Hunter. Hell, I'll even become Master of the Hunt!"
The boys laugh louder, circling him like carrion birds. "Hear that? He thinks he'll stand beside us one day, even lead us."
One of them shoves a book from Mox's hands as he picks the others up. It lands with a heavy thud. His temper flares, and before he realizes it, Mox slams his palm against an oak shelf. The wood splinters under his force, echoing through the library.
The bullies freeze, eyes wide. For a moment, no one breathes. Then, muttering curses, they back away and hurry out.
Mox exhales, forcing his pulse to calm. He bends to retrieve his books and finally settles at a table.
"Not worth it," he mutters, flipping the pages. "Focus."
Hours slip by. The bright overhead lights hum softly, illuminating the rows of bookshelves. Words blur together until Mox's head dips onto the open text.
He jerks awake. The lights are still on, but the library is nearly empty. Panic floods him.
"Crap! I overslept!" He stacks the books neatly, nods apologetically at the librarian, and rushes into the night.
The shuttle platform is nearly empty when he arrives. He slips aboard and finds a seat near the window, his bag of notes tucked under his arm. The hum of the rail soothes him, and for the first time all day, he allows himself a small moment of peace.
The city of Eden glows beneath him. The streetlights cast golden streaks, the gardens shimmer in the fading light, and towers gleam against the sky. Mox leans back, thinking of the librarian's encouragement.
Today felt… productive. Maybe he's finally starting to get the hang of it. A small smile tugs at his lips.
Then the world explodes.
A deafening impact slams into the side of the shuttle. Metal screams, sparks fly, and passengers scream as the carriage is torn from the rails. It skids violently before tipping onto its side with a thunderous crash.
Books scatter. Glass shatters. Heart pounding, Mox scrambles upright, dragging people clear of the wreckage, pulling hands, lifting children, shoving debris aside.
"Move! Get out!" he shouts, helping a woman and her son through a shattered window. Once the last passenger is clear, Mox notices it: a massive imprint pressed into the side of the shuttle. A humanoid shape, deep and jagged, showing just how hard something hit.
"Thank God—" a woman begins, gripping his arm, but her words cut off in a scream.
"It's a Devil!"
Every head snaps toward the source.
Through smoke and sparks, a hulking, brutish figure emerges. Horns curve like jagged blades, sinew and stone ripple across its wounded body, eyes glowing like coals. The Devil roars. Eden's peaceful night is gone in an instant.