Darkness tore through the sky. Cracks of crimson fire split the heavens, forming jagged wounds that bled shadows into the world. The earth trembled as a deafening roar echoed through the land—a sound that was neither human nor beast. And then, it appeared.
A portal, vast and writhing, its core swirling with seething darkness. From within, shapes slithered and crawled, eyes gleaming with unnatural hunger. The Hellgate had opened.
The night, once peaceful, was now filled with screams. Cities burned, highways collapsed, and the stench of death polluted the air. Emergency broadcasts blared through every screen, urging civilians to seek shelter. But humanity's prayers went unanswered, for even the gods had foreseen this—the descent of darkness upon the world.
Yet, in the heart of despair, a light was born.
Solaris, Goddess of Light, stood upon the shattered rooftop of a towering skyscraper, her golden hair billowing like the last rays of the dying sun. Wounded and weary, she held the child in her arms—a girl with golden eyes, a child not of flesh and blood, but of sacrifice and divine radiance.
"Lucienne..." she whispered, her voice trembling. "You are the last hope."
The battle had cost Solaris everything. But she would not fall before giving her enemies one last fight.
With her free hand, she raised her staff, and blinding light erupted from its core. The city skyline illuminated as divine radiance clashed against the abyssal tide. Demons shrieked and recoiled, their monstrous forms disintegrating in the brilliance. She fought with the wrath of a dying sun, striking down the creatures of the underworld with every last ounce of power she had left.
But even a goddess had her limits.
Her once-immortal form flickered, her celestial body crumbling like fading embers. The gods above watched in solemn silence. They knew of her daughter, knew the power she carried. But even they did not know where Solaris would hide her. It was a secret she would take to her grave.
With the last of her strength, she turned to the lone figure beside her. A warrior, clad in tactical gear, his visor reflecting the city's burning skyline, knelt in solemn devotion.
"Take her far from here," Solaris commanded, her eyes burning with a plea that words could not express. "Hide her. Let no one know of her existence—not the people, not the gods, and certainly not the demons."
The warrior nodded, his grip tightening around the child. He knew the weight of this task. To protect the one being who could one day banish the darkness.
As the light of Solaris flickered and waned, she lifted her gaze to the sky one last time. The Hellgate loomed in the distance, and the creatures of the abyss surged forth. She closed her eyes and let go.
A blinding radiance erupted from her form, engulfing the battlefield. Shadows screamed as they were torn apart by the purifying light, and for a brief moment, the world saw dawn break amidst the chaos.
But when the light faded, Solaris was no more.
The warrior did not look back. With Lucienne cradled in his arms, he disappeared into the neon-lit streets, carrying the last flame of hope to the farthest reaches of the world—where neither demons nor men would think to search.
---
Elsewhere, the battlefield was drowning in blood and fire.
The city's defense forces, clad in futuristic armor and armed with state-of-the-art weaponry, fought against the unending swarm of demons. Half of their forces had already fallen. Streets were littered with debris, car alarms blaring endlessly as helicopters circled overhead, desperately searching for survivors. It was a battle they could not win.
And then, in their darkest moment, the gods answered.
A blinding radiance descended upon the battlefield. Those who had fought with unwavering resolve—elite soldiers, commanders, and even a few ordinary officers—felt something stir within them. Power, raw and divine, surged through their veins.
A sniper who had been moments from death gasped as flames engulfed his rifle, transforming it into a weapon of pure fire. A commander who had refused to yield felt the pavement beneath him answer his call, forming unbreakable barriers of stone. The winds howled, lightning crackled, water surged—each chosen warrior bore the mark of a different god.
With newfound strength, they turned the tide.
The demons shrieked as divine energy clashed against their infernal forms. The warriors pushed forward, driving them back. Though they could not close the Hellgate entirely, they sealed some of the smaller rifts, forcing the demons to retreat.
But the war was not over. More portals had opened, scattered deep within abandoned industrial zones, underground tunnels, and dense forests. Though they were fewer now, they remained a threat.
Recognizing the danger, the newly anointed warriors took it upon themselves to guard the remaining portals. The government declared these areas restricted, ensuring no civilian would unknowingly stumble into the abyss. Cities were rebuilt with fortified walls and energy barriers, the land slowly restored, and humanity—though wounded—began anew.
Yet the portals remained, their ominous presence a reminder that darkness still lurked beyond the neon lights.
And so the world waited, knowing that one day, the battle would begin again.
---
And so, in a small, forgotten district, a woman who had long since lost everything found herself holding a child bathed in fading starlight.
She did not know what fate had in store, nor did she question the soldier who placed the baby in her arms. She only knew one thing.
This child was special.
And the world would one day tremble at the name Lucienne Solara.