♡ Prologue ♡
The night was heavy with rain, the streets washed in silver as thunder rolled above the mountains. Cold winds howled through the alleys, rattling the old wooden shutters of a small Catholic orphanage.
At the stroke of midnight, the church bell tolled three times—though no service was scheduled that night. Sister Helena, who kept vigil in the chapel, heard the faint cry of an infant beyond the door.
She hurried to the entrance and found a small wicker basket lying upon the steps. Inside, swaddled in a white cloth, was a baby boy. His face was strangely calm, untouched by the storm raging around him.
Pinned to his chest was a crumpled slip of parchment, its ink faded yet clear:
"Nomen eius: Caelum Dominic.
Custos inter lucem et tenebras."
(His name is Caelum Dominic.
Guardian between light and darkness.)
The Sister clutched him to her chest, a shiver of awe running down her spine. She knew at once this child carried a destiny far greater than he appeared.
Years passed. Caelum grew into a quiet yet inquisitive boy. He often dreamed of strange visions: a colossal stone gate, a sky turned upside down, and whispers in an ancient tongue—Latin, though he had never studied it.
When he finished elementary school, an unannounced visitor arrived at the orphanage. The man wore a long black cloak, embroidered with the cross and an eight-pointed star. His presence filled the room with a weight of authority.
He carried a sealed letter, yellowed with age. It was a writ of passage, prepared for Caelum since the night he was abandoned.
"From tonight onward," the man said in a deep voice, "he must go where he truly belongs. To Academia Arcanum Sanctum."
Tears welled in Sister Helena's eyes. She had always known this day would come. The orphanage was not an end, but a threshold—a bridge between the world of men (Terra) and another realm known only in whispers: Regnum Obscura.
And that night, Caelum saw it for the first time: the gate opening, radiant with otherworldly light, as voices chanted Latin incantations from beyond.
The Journey to Regnum Obscura
That morning, the air in the orphanage courtyard felt different. The sky was overcast, as if something immense was about to happen. Sister Helena held Caelum's hand tightly—the hand that no longer belonged to the infant she had once found on a stormy night, but to a twelve-year-old boy about to leave his home for the very first time.
At the gate, a black, old bus was waiting. Its paint gleamed, yet it bore no license plate, no number, no name. Only a great symbol was carved into the door: a radiant cross encircled by ancient Latin letters.
"Caelum… this is the time," whispered Sister Helena, her voice trembling.
Caelum swallowed hard, staring at the woman who had been his mother figure all these years. "Do I really have to go, Sister?"
"Yes, my child. Your destiny lies there. Remember… whatever happens, never forget who you are."
The door creaked open. As Caelum stepped inside, his eyes widened—dozens of other children sat in the seats already, each carrying a worn suitcase or rucksack. They were all around his age, their faces pale with nerves.
"So… I'm not the only one," Caelum muttered.
A girl with golden-blonde hair glanced at him and gave a faint smile.
"You're from an orphanage too?" she asked.
Caelum nodded. "Yes… St. Helena's."
"Then we're the same. I'm from St. Michael's," she replied quickly, lowering her gaze again.
Suddenly, the bus door slammed shut with a metallic thud. The engine rumbled, growling like some ancient beast. Without a driver in sight, the vehicle lurched forward.
"AAAAHHH!" several children screamed as they were slammed back into their seats.
The bus tore down the road with impossible speed. The familiar city outside the windows blurred, buildings twisting into streaks of shadow. Then the glass panes began to shimmer with blue light, as though they were hurtling through a sea of stars.
"This… this isn't a normal road!" shouted a boy from the back.
Caelum pressed his face to the window, his eyes widening. The sky split open, revealing another world: colossal castles floating in midair, dark forests glowing with emerald fire, and a monumental stone gate etched with blazing Latin inscriptions.
The bus dove sharply, sending every child shrieking in panic. Yet Caelum felt something stir deep inside him—not fear, but a strange resonance, like a calling finally answered.
As the bus pierced through the massive gate, a whisper brushed against his ear:
"Caelum Dominic… welcome to Regnum Obscura."
Far from the roaring bus that pierced through the shining gate, deep within the Regnum Obscura, something darker was unfolding.
In a vast circular chamber underground, the walls were carved with inverted crosses and ancient sigils. Blue fire flickered from bronze braziers, casting twisted shadows across the stone.
A hooded figure stood at the center of the ritual circle, arms raised toward the smoke-choked ceiling. Before him, a man lay bound in chains, trembling with terror.
"No… please! Mercy!" the victim screamed, his voice hoarse with despair.
But no mercy came. From the darkness around the circle, black flames slithered outward, wrapping his body. His cries turned into guttural shrieks of agony.
"Ignis inferni! Accipe hanc victimam!"
(Fire of Hell! Accept this sacrifice!)
The hooded figure shouted the incantation, and the flames grew higher. On the walls, shadows twisted into the shape of a horned being, lowering its head as though receiving the offering.
The man's body collapsed into ashes, yet his final scream lingered in the air, trapped between the world of men and the realm of demons.
From the smoldering ashes, a crimson seal formed, glowing with sinister light. The cultist lowered his arms slowly, a grim smile tugging at his lips.
"The time is almost here," he murmured. "And that boy… he will be the key to my master's return."