Episode 1 - Demon King has emerged.
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(In the year 1950)
Silence hit the world first.
Not the peaceful kind. The wrong kind.
The kind that makes dogs hide and babies wake up screaming—And then the sky tore open.
It wasn't thunder. Nor lightning.
A bloom.
A red shape spread across the heavens like a giant flower forcing itself open. The light wasn't natural. It pulsed—slow, heavy beats—like something alive was trying to force its way into the atmosphere.
People froze mid-step.
A butcher in Paris dropped his cleaver.
A soldier in New Delhi ripped his helmet off.
Kids in Moscow stopped playing and stared upward, jaws hanging, popsicles dripping down their hands.
The clouds didn't move.
They burned, edges turning pitch black as they curled away from the thing in the sky.
It didn't look beautiful.
It looked wrong, like a wound.
The heat hit next.
Windows didn't crack—they exploded inward. Birds dropped from the sky like stones, wings twitching. Radio towers sparked violently, sending electric pops across entire cities.
People shielded their faces from the glare. The red glow washed the streets in color, making asphalt shimmer like it was melting.
The air tasted metallic.
Dry. Like breathing in hot iron.
And then—just when the world seemed to stop holding onto reason—
It vanished.
Just gone…
The sky went back to blue, like nothing happened.
But the world wasn't the same.
A woman on a bus clutched her chest, eyes rolling back. A man in a bar dropped to his knees, veins glowing under his skin.
Kids screamed in pain as heat shot through their bones.
And from Cairo to Tokyo, from Rio to Berlin—powers detonated inside people's bodies.
A young boy on a rooftop in Cairo gasped as the trash can beside him disintegrated into dust, the particles spiraling upward like smoke sucked into a vacuum.
A woman in Seoul tried to get out of a taxi—her hand slipped on the door handle and sliced the entire car in half like it was paper.
A homeless man in Chicago screamed as tumors evaporated off his body, and hair grew back in seconds, reversing time inside his cells.
Some didn't survive the change.
Bodies twitched on sidewalks. Some foamed at the mouth.
Others just… stopped breathing.
But those who lived— their eyes glowed. Their bones hummed. Their shadows moved before they did.
No one understood what was happening.
Scientists panicked. Some fainted. A few never got up again.
Church bells rang nonstop until their ropes snapped.
Governments tried to shut borders, but crashed military jeeps into each other by accident because half their soldiers were convulsing with new abilities they couldn't control.
Fires started. Buildings collapsed. Entire neighborhoods rebuilt themselves, because someone thought too hard and matter bent to their will.
The villains started appearing.
The first man to rob a bank didn't even know he could turn into smoke until the bullets passed through him. The first killer didn't mean to crush someone—he just grabbed too hard.
And all across the world, one thought spread quietly, whispered by terrified lips:
"The Rose wasn't a blessing."
Someone else whispered:
"It was a curse."
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