PAUNAWA

Ang lahat ng mga pangalan, lugar o pangyayari sa kwentong ito ay pawang kathang isip lamang.

Maraming salamat sainyong pag

suporta

.

• Shawn Yukimura

Unang Kabanata ay mabasa nyo na, malapit na

Konting

abang lang mga Mahal. ❤️😘

CHAPTER ONE - THE NOVICE OF THE LIGHT

“Cristine Gentallan’s P.O.V”

At the Sister of Light Convent , we find Cristine—a young woman dedicated to her studies in hopes of becoming a nun. The high stone walls of the convent served as her sanctuary, a place where the scent of incense and the soft murmur of morning prayers filled the air.

Back then, her world was defined by silence, service, and the white habit she wore. She was known for her discipline and her unwavering faith, never imagining that the “Light” she was studying would one day manifest as a divine weapon in her hands. She was a simple student of the cloth, unaware that her lineage held a power far older and more dangerous than the scriptures she recited.

“Lord, please give me a sign if what I’m about to do is right. I truly want to serve You… but I am so lost.”

Cristine spoke these words while kneeling in fervent prayer. She was so absorbed in her plea that she didn’t notice Sister Maricar approaching, quietly listening to the struggle in her heart.

“Lord, should I really go through with becoming a nun? I know I shouldn’t be feeling this way. I thought my decision was final when I first stepped into this convent. But I don’t want to fail my father and mother. Lord, please… give me a sign.”

Just then, Sister Maricar placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and spoke softly.

“Cristine, you can serve Him without being a nun. Did you know that? If you won’t be happy in this life, then follow your heart. Our Lord is not a selfish God. Follow what is truly written in your soul, provided you never forget Him.”

“Sister Maricar, I’m so sorry,” Cristine sobbed.

“I understand. I’ve known for a while that your heart wasn’t in this. Don’t worry; I’ll be the one to speak with the Mother Superior,” Sister Maricar said with a warm smile.

“But what about my parents?” Cristine asked, her voice filled with worry. “I’m afraid I’ll disappoint them if I don’t continue.”

From that day on, Sister Maricar became the only person I could talk to about backing out of the sisterhood. She was completely supportive, and I kept looking for the right moment to tell my parents about my decision. But even now, my chest still tightens with anxiety.

Until one night…

While we were all deep in sleep in our dormitory, I was jolted awake by a terrifying nightmare.

“My child, help us!” my mother pleaded, her voice choked with tears. A thick, obsidian smoke was coiling around their bodies, binding them tight.

“Daughter!” my father screamed. Suddenly, a massive pillar of fire erupted from where they stood. I was paralyzed, able to do nothing but scream and weep in the face of the flames.

I woke up for real when the girl sleeping next to me heard my sobbing.

“Cristine, what’s happening? You’re having a bangungot , girl,” Dianne whispered urgently.

“Thank you, Dianne. It was a horrible dream… my parents were begging me for help,” I told her. At that exact moment, a violent crack of thunder echoed, followed by a jagged flash of lightning.

A few moments later, a knock came at the door. Sister Maricar entered, accompanied by Sister Mae.

“It’s good that you’re awake, Cristine. I have something terrible to tell you,” Sister Maricar began.

She stared at me, her gaze pleading with me to be brave and to prepare myself for what she was about to say next.

“Sister? What is it? What news do you have?” I asked, my heart hammering.

“Your brother, Gem, called,” she said softly. “Your mother and father… they’ve gone missing.”

“What? How could they just disappear?” I asked Sister Maricar again, my voice trembling with nerves.

Sister Maricar opened her mouth to answer, but Sister Mae quickly intervened.

“Not here, Sister Maricar,” she warned. “Cristine, come with us. And you, Dianne—go back to sleep.”

I said a quick goodbye to Dianne and followed the two Sisters. As we walked toward the room where we were to talk, a shadow flitted past us in the hallway. At this hour, our only light came from flickering candles and old oil lamps.

The shadow didn’t belong to Sister Maricar or Sister Mae.

I tried to shrug it off, pushing the unease aside. Once we were inside the room, Sister Maricar finally relayed what Gem had told her over the phone.

“It’s exactly like my dream,” I whispered. “A dark smoke, or a shadow, coiling around my parents… and then the fire.”

The two Sisters exchanged a knowing, heavy look.

“Only one thing could have done that,” Sister Maricar muttered.

“Sister Maricar? Don’t!” Sister Mae cautioned.

“Sister Mae, Cristine is grown. She has every right to know the truth about all of this.” Sister Maricar’s voice was rising now, sharp with frustration. I looked at Sister Mae, who simply shook her head in defeat.

“What is it? What do I need to know?” I demanded.

“This is the work of a demon,” Sister Maricar stated flatly.

“A demon? But why? Why my parents?”

“Because you are the key that opens the gates of hell,” Sister Maricar answered. “That is why you were brought here, Cristine—to keep you protected.”

“She’s right,” Sister Mae added, her voice softening. “The Mother Superior tasked us specifically to watch over you. Now, they have made their first move to force you out of hiding.”

“I have to save them,” I said, my resolve hardening. “Please, you have to help me.”

“You will leave the convent tomorrow, Cristine. I’ll come with you to find and save your parents,” Sister Maricar promised.

“Maricar, you can’t,” Sister Mae chided. “You don’t have the official letter from the High Church allowing you to leave.”

“I’ll go alone, Sister Maricar,” I said bravely. “I’ll find them. Come what may!”

The following day, I bid farewell to everyone in the convent, including Sisters Maricar and Mae.

“I’ll follow you, Cristine,” Maricar said as we parted. “Once my papers from the High Church arrive, I’ll be there to help you.”

During the journey home, I drifted off to sleep, only for the same nightmare to haunt me. My father and mother were still crying out for help. I woke up with a start, nearly missing my stop.

“Driver, pull over please!” I shouted. As I stepped off the bus, Gem was already there to meet me.

“Ate, thank God you’re here,” he sobbed as I pulled my younger brother into a tight, comforting embrace.

“Ate is here now,” I whispered, trying to keep him calm.

When we reached the house, my grandmother and aunt were already there, their faces twisted in bitterness.

“Why did you even show your face here, you child of darkness?” my grandmother spat as I walked in.

“You’re the reason your father and his brother are gone!” my aunt added venomously.

“Wait, Lola, Tita—Ate has nothing to do with Mama’s disappearance! For once, please show my sister some respect!” Gem shouted back.

My aunt simply arched an eyebrow and sneered. “Sister? She’s not even your own flesh and blood. You are our only relative. Not her!” She punctuated her words with a sharp shove.

“You’ll pay for this! You are a plague on this family!” my grandmother cried.

“Lola!” Gem protested, but I held him back.

“Enough, Gem. That’s enough,” I said coldly. “You’re right, Lola. I am just their adopted child. But they never once made me feel like I didn’t belong. Now, if you’ll excuse me… I’m going to change.”

I walked straight to my room. Inside, nothing had changed. The first thing I saw was our family photo, and on the foot of my bed sat the old comics I used to read as a child.

Tears began to fall. I remembered how my father used to draw my favorite character for me: Inspector Red . I stood up and opened my wardrobe, and there, I saw a familiar set of clothes.

“It’s just like Inspector Red’s outfit. There’s even a hat,” I said with a faint smile, touching the brim of the crimson fedora.

I didn’t notice Gem had slipped into the room. “Inay sewed that for you,” he said softly. “She knew somehow that you would be leaving the convent today.”

His words hit me like a physical blow, making me even more emotional.

“Inay… where are you?” I wept as Gem tried to comfort me.

I wiped my eyes, my hands trembling as they balled into tight fists. “I promise, I will find you. Just wait for me. I’m going to make them pay.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

CHAPTER TWO - MISSION AND DEATH

“RIZAH GEM’s POINT OF VIEW”

As I tried to comfort Ate Cristine, my mind drifted back to the days just before our parents disappeared.

“Even though your sister isn’t our blood, I need you to treat her as your own, do you understand, my child?” Mama said, her eyes searching mine with a strange intensity.

Papa stepped toward me, placing a steady hand on my shoulder. “Rizah, no matter what happens, you two must find a way to stop them .”

I looked up at Papa, my brow furrowing in confusion. “Stop who, Papa? Who are they ?”

Mama and Papa exchanged a long, heavy look before Mama finally spoke. “The demons. I know you don’t understand any of this yet.” She glanced at Papa again, nodding silently.

Papa took a deep breath, deciding it was time to reveal the truth about our lineage. “We are Bellators, Rizah. Our family comes from a long line of them.”

“Bellator? I don’t understand…” I muttered, the word feeling foreign on my tongue.

Papa went into their bedroom for a moment and returned carrying a dagger with a peculiar, intricate design; its hilt was encrusted with a diamond. Then, he and Mama brought out a hidden box. Inside were two .45 caliber pistols and a weathered notebook.

“What are those for? You still haven’t answered my questions,” I pressed.

Mama exhaled slowly. “Bellator. It’s a Latin word for ‘Warrior.’ We belong to a clan of warriors tasked with spreading peace throughout the world—protecting it from the disciples of darkness. Creatures like the aswang , the kapre , and especially…”

Mama’s voice trailed off, the weight of the unspoken word hanging heavy in the air.

“Especially the… Sigbinan ,” Mama whispered, the word itself seeming to chill the air in the room.

“The Sigbinan?” I repeated. I had heard stories of the Sigbin —shadowy creatures that lurked in the dark—but the way Mama said it made them sound like an army.

“They are the elite shadow-stalkers of the underworld,” Papa added, his voice grim. “And they have been searching for something for a very long time. Something—or someone—that can break the seal of the seven gates.”

He looked toward the door of the room where Ate Cristine was sleeping. My heart sank.

“Is it Ate?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “Is she the one they’re looking for?”

“She is the Key , Rizah,” Mama said, her eyes filling with tears. “She doesn’t know. She thinks she’s just an ordinary girl who wasn’t wanted by her biological parents. But the truth is, she was hidden for her own safety. We took her in not just because we loved her, but because the Bellator Council trusted us to keep the Key hidden in plain sight.”

Papa handed me the weathered notebook. “This is the Codex Bellator . It contains the maps of the ley lines and the descriptions of the ancient weapons. If anything happens to us, you must give this to her. But only when she is ready. Only when she has embraced her role as an Inspector of the Light.”

I gripped the notebook tight, the old leather cool against my palms. “But why the guns, Papa? If we have magic and daggers, why these?”

Papa checked the magazine of one of the .45s. The bullets weren’t lead; they were etched with glowing silver runes. “Because in this era, the darkness has learned to move faster than a blade. We must be faster.”

“Especially the demons. Gem, if anything happens to your mother and me, you and Cristine must work together. We can feel them… they are already here.”

Papa spoke with a grim urgency as he snatched the dagger from the table. Beside him, Mama grabbed the two pistols, her knuckles white as she gripped them.

“I don’t understand what’s happening!” I cried. But before they could explain, a violent, unnatural wind tore through the house, shattering the windows. The force was so great it sent Papa flying across the room.

Mama was suddenly hoisted into the air by an invisible force, her body pinned against the ceiling. In an instant, a searing fire erupted, spreading across her body with terrifying speed.

I was paralyzed, able to do nothing but scream in absolute shock.

Papa, gasping for air as he regained his strength, did something I would never forget. He sliced his own palm with the ancient dagger and began chanting words in a language I couldn’t comprehend. He slammed his bloodied hand against the floorboards.

A blinding, holy light exploded from his touch, racing through every corner of the house like a shockwave.

When the light finally faded, silence returned. I blinked, my eyes searching the room. Mama and Papa were gone.

I searched every corner, every room, screaming their names—but there was nothing. They had vanished into thin air. The only things left behind were the diamond-hilted dagger, the two pistols, and the weathered notebook.

I picked them up, the weight of their legacy heavy in my hands. I handed them over to Ate Cristine.

She looked at me, her eyes filled with a new, dangerous resolve, and she finally spoke.

“Thank you, Gem. Don’t you worry,” Ate said, her fingers tightening around the large hat Mama had made for her. “I’m going to find them. And those responsible… they better be ready.”

“What’s the plan, Ate?” I asked, looking at the weapons on the table.

“I’m going to use these,” she replied, her voice dropping an octave. “I’ll use everything they left behind to track them down.”

“But… Ate, what if they’re already gone?” I asked, the fear finally leaking into my voice.

“No,” she said firmly, looking me straight in the eye. “Whether they are dead or alive, I will find them.”

The following morning, Ate Cristine prepared to leave. She seemed distant, her mind already miles away, though she tried her best to keep me calm despite her own inner turmoil.

“Ate, please don’t let what our aunts said get to you. They’re just angry about what happened,” I told her, grabbing her arm. “Let me go with you.”

“No, Gem,” she said, pulling me into a hug. “When Mama and Papa finally come home, someone needs to be here to welcome them. That has to be you.”

“Take care of yourself, Ate,” I whispered. I reached into my pocket and handed her a rosary and our parents’ secret journal. “Take these. You might need them.”

“Thank you,” she said, embracing me one last time.

As Ate Cristine walked away, she didn’t notice a woman watching her from a distance. The stranger waited until Ate had crossed the road before heading toward a car parked nearby and driving off into the shadows.

One month later…

I was currently with Sister Maricar, and she had just introduced me to Ricky. He was a Demonologist.

“I study demons, but that doesn’t mean we’re Satanists,” Ricky explained. “Our work involves meticulous research and study. Based on what you told me about your parents… I can’t be certain yet, but it could be a demon, or perhaps just a violent poltergeist. Did you smell sulfur at your house when you returned?”

“Unfortunately, no,” I replied. “I’ve never smelled sulfur in my life. But there’s this…” I showed him a strange symbol drawn on one of the pages of my mother’s journal. I had confirmed it was hers because I recognize her handwriting anywhere.

“Confirmed. This is demonic in origin,” Ricky said, snapping a photo of the symbol. “But I’m not sure which one it belongs to yet.”

“Sister Maricar, I need to find other Bellators,” I said, turning to her. “I need to ask for their help.”

“Don’t worry. I know a Bellator—a former nun who left the convent. I just hope she’s still at her old home,” Maricar replied.

Ricky prepared to leave, eager to start his research on the symbol from the journal.

“I’ll update you as soon as I know something. And by the way—even if it doesn’t show—I’m a Bellator too. My father was one. Just like Sister Maricar here. Right, Sister?” He gave her a knowing smile.

“He’s right, Cristine,” Sister Maricar said, looking at Ricky. “But that’s not important now. I am ready to help you with your mission. Tomorrow, we will visit Sister Stella. She knows a great deal about cases like this.”

Once Ricky left, Sister Maricar went to her room to change. I was struck by how beautiful she was; despite being in her thirties, she looked like she was barely twenty. She laid out a map and explained the route to Sister Stella’s.

“Here, in the northern region… hopefully, Stella is still there,” she said. Suddenly, she stiffened, her eyes scanning the corners of the room.

“What is it, Sister?” I asked, my heart beginning to race.

“Get ready. I can feel them,” she said, reaching for her rosary.

“Who? Who is it?”

“They are growing bold,” she answered. In one swift motion, she snapped the string of her rosary.

“Sister! Why did you break it?”

“Don’t ask questions. Stay behind me!”

Sister Maricar scooped up the fallen beads and threw them into the air one by one. In an instant, the beads ignited mid-air, turning into glowing embers of fire before fading into ash. A minute later, the rosary miraculously reformed in her hand, the string whole again.

“They’re gone for now. They will try to hurt you, but I won’t let them. We must find Sister Stella immediately. This house is no longer safe for us, Cristine.” She finished with a solemn Sign of the Cross.

TO BE CONTINUED….

CHAPTER THREE - THE BELLATORS

“THE BELLATORS”

While Sister Maricar and I were on our way to Sister Stella’s, we ran into a bit of trouble. Luckily, we had already reached a small baryo (village).

“Sister Maricar, what happened?” I asked.

“I forgot to gas up earlier—we’re out of fuel. And the engine… it’s overheated. Just our luck!” she muttered, staring at the smoke billowing from under the hood.

“Wait, maybe they have a repair shop around here so we can get the car fixed. I’ll go look, Sister. Besides, I’m starving. I’ll go buy some food; I’ll be quick,” I promised. I scanned the surroundings until I spotted a small sari-sari store in the distance.

As I walked toward the shop, I noticed the locals staring at me strangely. I know I’m attractive, but these stares felt different—heavier. When I finally reached the counter:

“Excuse me, do you have anything to eat? And some soft drinks?” I asked. The shopkeeper nodded and handed me a pack of bread and a soda.

“Ma’am, can I ask you something?” I said. She smiled before answering.

“What is it, child?”

“Do you know a mechanic around here? Our car broke down. Also, we’re looking for a room to rent, even just for one night.”

“Hold on,” she said. She stepped out from behind the counter, her eyes fixed intently on my necklace.

“You’re a Bellator, aren’t you?” she asked suddenly.

“What?” I stammered.

“A Bellator. The Warriors. I’m not mistaken—you are one of them.”

Startled, I immediately shielded the pendant of my necklace with my palm, hiding it from view.

“I am Gloria. You can just call me Nanay Gloria. I have someone I’d like you to talk to. Is there any way you could help us?” Nanay Gloria asked, her voice filled with a desperate hope.

“W-What kind of help?” I stammered, my confusion mounting as I looked at the old woman.

“Please… my husband and I need your help. Don’t worry, you can stay at our house, and he will fix your car for you. Just help us. Please,” she begged.

I hadn’t realized that Sister Maricar had followed me and was now standing right behind us.

“We will help them,” Sister Maricar said suddenly. “I can feel a different kind of entity causing trouble here.”

“Sister! You startled me,” I gasped. Sister Maricar placed a hand on my arm, but her eyes remained fixed on the old woman as she spoke.

“You don’t need our help,” Sister Maricar said, her voice turning cold and sharp. “Rather, you chose this fate for yourselves.”

“They never wanted to be aswangs ,” Nanay Gloria countered, her voice trembling. “My family and I are the only humans left in this place. My fellow villagers… they want to be free from the curse. The curse of the aswang .”

“Sister, how did you know?” I asked, bewildered. Nanay Gloria hadn’t mentioned anything about their true nature to me yet.

“It doesn’t matter, Cristine,” Sister Maricar hissed, grabbing my hand and pulling me away. “We need to leave this village of darkness immediately.”

As she pulled me, the other villagers began to approach. To my shock, they didn’t attack; instead, they fell to their knees before Sister Maricar.

“We beg of you!” a woman cried out, weeping. “We cannot bring ourselves to kill humans. We were once like you—human—before we were cursed. Please, help us.”

Sister Maricar remained silent, her jaw set as she dragged me back toward our car.

“Wait, I thought the car was broken?” I asked, confused.

Sister Maricar exhaled sharply before answering. “Illusion and magic. They felt us coming and cast a spell on the engine to trap us here.” She climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the key. The engine roared to life instantly.

She was about to floor it when a child suddenly stepped into the middle of the road. Sister Maricar slammed on the brakes, the tires Screeching as we stopped just inches away from the boy.

“It looks like they really do need our help,” I said firmly. I ignored Sister Maricar’s protest and jumped out of the car.

I knelt down to check on the boy first. “Are you okay, little one?”

The child was sobbing, his small frame shaking. “Please… please help the people in our village become human again. I’m begging you. They aren’t bad people. They only eat animals… they refuse to hurt humans.”

“Sister, is there really a way to turn them back into humans?” I asked, desperation in my voice. “My father’s journal says there is, but it’s written in Latin and I can’t quite decipher it. Do you know the way?”

“There is a way, Cristine,” Sister Maricar replied, her gaze sharp and solemn. “But it is extremely dangerous. You don’t fully understand the weight of what you’re asking.”

Nanay Gloria and the other villagers approached, their eyes pleading. Despite their desperation, Sister Maricar remained firm and unyielding—until I spoke up again.

“If you won’t help me, I won’t go with you to see Sister Stella,” I declared defiantly. “I’ll find a way to heal them on my own. Think about it, Sister—we aren’t just servants of God. We are supposed to be healers, too.”

Sister Maricar let out a long, weary sigh, her shoulders finally dropping. “You are exactly like your father, aren’t you? Fine. We need to go to the nearest sea.”

“The sea?” an old man asked, confused. “How can the ocean help our condition?”

“I will explain later,” Sister Maricar snapped. “Just take us to the nearest coast.”

“I know the way!” the little boy I had helped chirped, a small smile breaking through his tears.

“Then lead the way. Everyone, follow us,” Sister Maricar commanded.

After a long trek, we finally reached the shore. There, under the sound of the crashing waves, Sister Maricar explained the ritual of purification to the anxious villagers.

“To remove the ‘chick’ that lives within your bodies, you must submerge yourselves in the sea for one full hour,” she explained.

“Sister, we can’t even get near the water,” a woman cried. “Ever since we became aswangs , the salt water feels like acid to us.”

“I know. Do not worry,” Sister Maricar assured them. She knelt on the shore and began drawing a massive circle in the sand, surrounding it with strange, intricate symbols. “I will cast a protection spell so you can endure the water long enough to vomit out the parasite.”

I watched in awe as she worked. “Protection against nature, to purge the darkness from within,” she chanted, her fingers moving gracefully through the sand.

“Alright,” she said, standing up. “Before you enter the waves, you must pass through this circle to receive temporary protection.”

The first to try was the mother of the little boy. As she stepped through the circle and toward the water, she winced in pain. But as she waded deeper and finally submerged herself, the agony seemed to turn into a trance.

“You will feel dizzy,” Sister Maricar called out. “Let it happen. You must force the chick out of your throat and let it drown in the salt water.”

A few moments later, the woman began to gag violently until a small, pitch-black chick fell from her lips. It hit the water and instantly drowned. One by one, the villagers followed suit, purging the darkness they had carried for years.

Nanay Gloria approached me, her face glowing with gratitude. “May you succeed in your mission, child. May the Lord guide you always.” She then joined her husband and child as they finally returned to their home—human once more.

Sister Maricar caught my eye and gave me a rare, secret smile. I smiled back, feeling a sense of peace—until my necklace suddenly flared with heat. It grew so hot it burned against my skin.

“There is danger nearby,” Sister Maricar whispered, her voice turning cold.

“What? Why?” I asked, clutching the burning pendant.

“Steady yourself, Cristine,” she warned, her hand reaching for her own weapon. “Prepare yourself.”

I spun around, my eyes scanning the dark horizon for whatever was coming.

TO BE CONTINUED…

CHAPTER FOUR - THE SACRIFICE AND THE FAREWELL

“FREEDOM FROM THE CURSE AND THE FAREWELL”

PREVIOUSLY :

Sister Maricar and I helped a town trapped under a dark curse—the curse of the aswang . At first, Sister Maricar refused to help, fearing it would delay our journey to find Sister Stella, a fellow Bellator. But in the middle of performing the purification ritual, Sister Maricar suddenly sensed a looming threat.

“Prepare yourself, Cristine!”

The air on the beach grew thick and heavy, the scent of the sea suddenly replaced by a metallic tang. I clutched the hilt of the diamond-hilted dagger hidden beneath my coat.

“Sister, what is it?” I whispered, my eyes darting toward the dark treeline bordering the shore.

“The Sigbinan,” Maricar hissed, her eyes glowing with a faint, holy light. “They’ve tracked the scent of the ‘Key.’ They won’t let us leave this village without a fight.”

Just as she spoke, the shadows beneath the palm trees began to stretch and warp. They weren’t just shadows anymore; they were growing taller, forming the shapes of lean, distorted creatures with eyes that burned like dying embers.

The villagers, now human and vulnerable, began to panic.

“Get back to the water!” I shouted to them. “Don’t break the circle!”

I felt the heat from my necklace intensify, a warning of the darkness drawing near. I wasn’t just a novice nun anymore. I was a Gentallan. I was a Bellator. And for the first time, I felt the power of my lineage surging through my veins.

THE CONTINUATION:

Nanay Gloria rushed toward me, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she delivered a frantic warning.

“You need to hide! Find a way to vanish before the Supremo sees you. Especially my fellow villagers who are human again… they are no longer safe here!”

“Nanay Gloria, I can already smell them,” Sister Maricar replied, her voice eerily calm as she reached for the rosary around her neck. “Don’t worry. I will protect you.”

Several villagers who had not yet undergone the ritual stepped forward, their eyes wild and monstrous. “Sisters, do not fear. We will fight!” one of them declared.

“Then it is time,” Sister Maricar said, a cold, predatory smile touching her lips. “Time to face the beasts who slaughtered my parents.”

“Sister? What do you mean?” I asked, stunned.

“A clan of aswangs murdered my parents—both of whom were Bellators. They are the same clan that cursed Nanay Gloria’s village. It is time for a reckoning with their Supremo.”

“But Sister, how can you fight them without a weapon? Here, use this!” I offered her the mystical dagger that belonged to my mother and father.

But Sister Maricar didn’t take it. Instead, she snapped her rosary once more, letting the beads fall in a protective circle around her.

“Cristine, remember this: always use the wind to sharpen your senses. Let it give you the keen scent and instincts of a hunter,” Sister Maricar instructed. She began tracing a glowing, intricate symbol in the air.

Moments later, the Supremo arrived.

He emerged from the treeline, his presence suffocating. In his grasp was Nanay Gloria, who had been forcibly reverted to her aswang form. Seeing their leader, the remaining cursed villagers immediately shifted into their monstrous states.

“Lola Gloria!” the little boy screamed, held back by a woman who had just been freed from the curse.

“The boy really is human,” I whispered to myself, realizing the child had never been tainted.

The Supremo locked eyes with Sister Maricar, his nostrils flaring. “I recognize your scent, woman,” he growled.

“Then guess who I am,” Maricar challenged, her voice dripping with defiance.

“Maricar Nuevas?” the Supremo sneered, a twisted grin spreading across his face. “The daughter of Mario and Karla Nuevas… two Bellators we slaughtered long ago. It has been a long time. I had no idea you would follow in their footsteps. I should never have left you alive.”

Sister Maricar smiled back, but her eyes were cold as death.

“Impressive. But your little ‘guess’ is going to cost you your life,” she replied. “And leaving me alive? That was the greatest mistake you ever made.”

She raised her hand toward the sky. Suddenly, massive wings—pure, blinding white and radiating a holy light—erupted from her back.

“Release Nanay Gloria,” she commanded, her voice echoing with power. “Face me instead!”

“If that is what you wish, then so be it!” the Supremo barked. He shoved Nanay Gloria aside and gestured to his horde. “Kill the rest!”

A swarm of aswangs lunged toward the villagers.

“Cristine, don’t just stand there watching—this isn’t a movie!” Maricar’s voice had changed; it was deeper, more resonant. “Protect the people!”

“Yes, Sister!” I shouted.

I didn’t waste a single second. I gathered the villagers close to me and recited the sacred incantation Sister Maricar had taught me back at the convent. I moved my hands in a sweeping arc, channeling my will.

“Light, I command thee: Grant us all thy shield!”

A dome of shimmering light erupted around us. An aswang tried to pounce, but it slammed into the barrier and was hurled backward, scorched by the holy energy.

Everything began to happen in a blur. Sister Maricar and the Supremo moved with such blinding speed that my eyes could no longer track their movements. All I could see were flashes of white light clashing against the darkness.

“Why can’t I see them?” I whispered to myself, my eyes straining against the blur of the battle.

Nanay Gloria’s grandson leaned toward me. “Ate, I can see them. Your friend… she’s badly hurt.”

A second later, Sister Maricar crashed to the ground right in front of us. We all screamed in terror at the sight of her broken form. Despite her weakness, Maricar’s eyes burned with a fierce intensity as she looked at me one last time.

With a final, desperate flick of her wrist, thousands of rosary beads erupted from the earth like a hail of bullets. They tore through the Supremo and his remaining minions with supernatural force.

“Cristine! It’s up to you now. Find Sister Stella…” Maricar gasped. As she spoke, the Supremo let out a final howl before crumbling into a pile of ash. Then, Sister Maricar collapsed.

“Sister Maricar!” I shrieked, rushing to her side. “Sister, what’s happening? Please, don’t be dramatic! Get up!” I was sobbing, my hands trembling as I touched her.

“Cristine… I don’t have much time,” she whispered, her voice fading. “Be careful as you search for your parents. Seek out Ricky… he will help you.”

“Sister, don’t talk like that! We’re going to see Sister Stella together!” My tears were falling freely now, staining her white robes.

“You silly girl,” she smiled weakly. “I can’t make it. My wounds are too deep. But I can see now… that you are ready. I die happy knowing I’ve finally avenged my parents.”

And with a soft, final breath, she closed her eyes.

“No! No! Sister Maricar, please don’t joke like this!” I cried, gently shaking her shoulders.

Nanay Gloria knelt beside me and checked Maricar’s pulse. She looked at me with sorrowful eyes. “She’s gone, ija . I am so deeply sorry for the loss of your friend.”

“Ate, thank you,” the little boy whispered, tugging at my sleeve. “Because of you two, we’re human again.”

“Her sacrifice was not in vain,” another woman added. “With the Supremo dead, we are finally free. Our town is safe.”

One by one, the villagers knelt before Maricar’s body. “An Archangel was the guardian spirit of your friend,” they murmured in awe. “She deserves our highest respect.”

Nanay Gloria placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “We are free. Thank you… thank you, Bellators.”

I couldn’t process the whirlwind of emotions inside me. It felt as though I had lost my only true ally, my only real friend. I remembered the days at the convent—how she was the only one who gave me grace, the only one who protected me from punishment. She was always my shield.

“Sister Maricar,” I whispered, looking at her peaceful face for the last time. “May you have a safe journey home.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

CHAPTER FIVE - THE RISE OF RED

“INSPECTOR RED / CALAMANSI AND SALT (PART ONE)”

We cremated Sister Maricar’s body. It was according to tradition, and it was her final wish before she ultimately said her last goodbye to me.

I returned to our car and searched for the box containing the Inspector Red outfit my mother had sewn for me. I opened it slowly, staring at the crimson fabric. The color of blood, the color of justice.

In the midst of my deep reflection on everything that had transpired, my phone suddenly rang. It was Ricky.

“Cristine, I’ve identified the symbol you gave me,” Ricky said on the other end of the line.

I took a long, shaky breath before answering. “Whose is it? And what is it?”

“You won’t believe it, but it belongs to a high-ranking demon. Sister Maricar knows it well. Can I speak with her?” Ricky asked.

I fought back the urge to sob, even as my entire body trembled. I forced myself to tell Ricky the truth.

“Sister Maricar is gone. I… I couldn’t save her from the aswangs . I’m sorry!” I replied, and finally, I broke down, sobbing uncontrollably into the phone. “I’m so sorry!”

“Quiet now, Tine. It isn’t your fault,” he said gently, his voice soothing. “Everything happens for a reason. Where are you now?”

I inhaled deeply, trying to ease the painful tightening in my chest, and finally spoke. “In the car… well, by the car. But I’m still going to find Sister Stella.”

“In that case, let’s meet at Sister Stella’s. Our enemy is powerful. Sister Maricar knew this entity because she faced it once before,” Ricky explained.

“Who?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

“It’s Lilith. I’ll give you the details later. Just stay alert. I’ll see you at Sister Stella’s,” Ricky said, and the call abruptly ended.

I finally left Nanay Gloria’s village behind, pushing forward with my journey to find Sister Stella. I drove for hours, realizing the destination was much farther than I had initially hoped. Eventually, hunger began to gnaw at me. Luckily, I happened upon a town in the western region.

“Excuse me, sir,” I called out to an elderly man walking along the roadside.

He turned toward me, his brow furrowed as he replied, “Yes, child?”

“Sir, do you know of any karinderya (eatery) around here?” I asked.

“Why, child? Where are you headed?” he countered.

“Just traveling,” I replied simply.

“There is an eatery here. Just go straight and then turn right. Once you see a sign that says ‘Caring-Derya,’ that’s the one. It’s the most famous place to eat in these parts,” the old man said with a smile.

“Alright, thank you very much,” I said, bidding him goodbye and hurrying toward the restaurant. I thought the name was quite clever: Caring-Derya .

I didn’t get lost; I found the place exactly where the old man said it would be. It was packed with people—likely because it was already lunchtime—but it looked like a blockbuster hit with the sheer size of the crowd. I parked the car by the side of the road and joined the line of people waiting to enter the small establishment.

While waiting, I met one of the customers, a man who introduced himself as Zanjo.

“Are you new here, miss?” he asked. I didn’t answer. Instead, I pulled out my headphones and started listening to my favorite music.

After several minutes in line, we finally made it inside.

“Table for two, ma’am?” the young waitress asked.

I pulled my headphones down around my neck before answering. “Oh, no. It’s just me. I’m alone.”

“Oh, I thought you and this gentleman were a couple,” the waitress said, pointing behind me. When I turned around, I saw the man who had been behind me in line earlier.

“You’re mistaken. He isn’t my boyfriend,” I clarified. “Is there any space left?”

“There’s a spot on the second floor, ma’am. Follow me,” she invited. I was about to follow her when I was stopped by a hand suddenly grabbing my arm.

“Wait, Miss. I’m Zanjo,” he said, looking at me intently. “Mind if I share a table with you?”

I found myself staring at his face for several seconds. I only snapped back to reality when Zanjo spoke again.

“I know I’m handsome,” he teased. “But I’m starving, Miss. Let’s just share the table.”

He wasn’t lying—he was good-looking—but he was incredibly overconfident. I furrowed my brow and gave him a blunt answer. “Fine! What choice do I have anyway?”

The waitress gave us a secret, knowing smile. “Follow me, then.”

I was shocked to see that even the second floor was packed. Every table had two or three people eating. The waitress seated us by the window where the wind was blowing strongly. It was actually quite relaxing.

“The view here is beautiful,” I remarked, looking out at the towering trees.

“Don’t eat anything, Miss,” Zanjo whispered suddenly. “Because it isn’t animal meat they’re cooking here.” He pulled out his own lunch box filled with vegetables and rice.

“What are you talking about? I’m hungry! Are you high, sir? Not animal meat? What do you mean—human meat? You’ve got to be joking!” I exclaimed. As soon as the words left my mouth, he lunged forward and covered my mouth with his hand.

“Wait, you’re way too ‘feeling close.’ I don’t even know you!” I hissed after pulling away.

“I told you, my name is Zanjo. And you? What’s yours?”

“Cristine. But… are you serious?” I whispered, my heart starting to race.

“Cristine Hermosa? You’re just as beautiful as the name,” he said with a wink, his eyes darting cautiously around the room to see if anyone was watching us.

“It’s the truth. Look, if you’re that hungry, you can have mine,” Zanjo said, his eyes still darting cautiously around the room.

Slap! “You pervert!” I barked, my hand stinging from the impact on his cheek.

“What was that for?! I wasn’t even finished speaking,” he hissed, rubbing his face. “I meant we should share my food. Just don’t eat anything from here. Because if you do—” He was cut off when the waitress returned to our table.

“Hi Sir, Ma’am! Here is our best-seller. Anything else you’d like to order?” she asked cheerfully.

I forced a smile and shook my head.

“Alright then, enjoy your food!” she said before heading back downstairs.

Zanjo immediately pulled out a small plastic pouch. Inside was nothing but calamansi and salt.

“What’s that for? Are you planning to cook?” I asked, confused. “Look at this Bulalo . It looks delicious, and you’re going to add more salt? You haven’t even tasted it yet. Come on, let’s try it,” I said, reaching for my spoon.

Zanjo swiped my hand away. Instead of eating, he poured the salt and squeezed the calamansi into the Bicol Express in front of me, then did the exact same thing to the Bulalo .

A few moments later, the scent of the Bulalo and the Bicol Express began to twist. The rich, savory aroma of the soup turned into a foul, rancid stench—like something that had been rotting for weeks.

The meat in the Bicol Express morphed before my eyes. I froze in absolute horror when I saw a human fingernail sticking out of a piece of meat.

Then, an eyeball floated to the surface of the Bulalo broth. I knew the difference; that was no animal eye—it was human. And it wasn’t just the eye; a human index finger bobbed up through the oily soup as if pointing directly at me.

Both of us gagged, the bile rising in our throats at the grisly sight.

“They are aswangs ,” Zanjo hissed. “We need to get out of here. Now!” He grabbed my arm and hauled me toward the exit.

“Wait! we haven’t paid yet!” I stammered, still in shock.

“I already left the money. You need to leave this town immediately,” he urged as we reached the street. “Once those monsters realize what I’ve done, they’ll come for you. Don’t worry about me… I am a Bellator.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

CHAPTER SIX - THE RISE OF RED

“INSPECTOR RED- KALAMANSI AND SALT (PART TWO)”

PREVIOUSLY… I found myself in a town that seemed quiet yet full of cheerful people. Despite its distance from the city, I noticed many foreign tourists visiting the area. It was here that I met the arrogant Zanjo, who, as it turned out, was also a Bellator.

“You better leave this town right now,” he warned. “Once they find out what I’ve done, you might get caught in the crossfire. Don’t worry about me. I can defend myself… after all, I am a Bellator.”

I stared at him, my heart hammering against my ribs. The stench of the “food” from the eatery still clung to the air, a sickening reminder that this town’s “hospitality” was nothing but a death trap.

“You think I’m just some helpless girl?” I shot back, my voice trembling not from fear, but from the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I reached for the bag containing my mother’s red suit and the runed pistols.

Zanjo didn’t look back; his eyes were fixed on the shadows beginning to move toward us from the entrance of the Karendery. The “cheerful” faces of the townspeople were starting to twist into something hungry and pale.

THE CONTINUATION…

“You know what? I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” I shot back. “Fine, let’s say they are aswangs in that eatery—the whole crew—but you can’t be sure if they’re actually evil or just minding their own business.”

“Miss, for your information, I’ve been tracking them for a long time,” Zanjo countered. “They’ve moved through several towns already, and I only just caught up with them here. You have no idea why I’m hunting them!”

“Okay, fine. Whatever. I’m leaving!” I said, rolling my eyes. I hurried back to my car and sped off, desperate to find somewhere else to eat.

I eventually found a high-end coffee shop. This town seemed quite affluent—very ‘LL’ or Luwag-Luwag (well-to-do). As I sat there, I couldn’t help but wonder about what Zanjo had said. If he had been searching for them for that long, there had to be a deep, personal reason.

I was in the middle of my deep thoughts when Zanjo suddenly appeared in front of me, drenched in sweat and gasping for air.

“Wait… why are you still here?” he demanded.

“What do you care? Do you own this town? I’ll leave when I feel like it,” I snapped.

“You don’t understand—you’re in danger because they recognized your face,” Zanjo said, his eyes darting to something behind me. When I tried to turn around to see what it was, he suddenly grabbed my face, forcing me to look back at him. He leaned in close, his face just inches from mine.

“Don’t look back,” Zanjo whispered, his face still inches from mine. “I overheard them—they’re planning to ‘take care’ of you because they lost customers after that scandal we caused this morning.”

Up close, I couldn’t help but notice his eyes. They were a striking shade of blue; the guy clearly had foreign blood. And good lord, that nose… he’d win any ‘nose-to-nose’ challenge hands down.

“‘Take care’ of me? You mean they’re going to kill me?” I asked, trying to focus.

“Yes, Miss. And now you’re on my conscience. If anything happens to you, I’ll never hear the end of it. Look, I’ll take you home. Where do you live? The next town over?”

“Um… Jo? I can’t really speak properly with your hands like that. Can you let go now? I think the coast is clear,” I said.

He quickly pulled his hands away, looking slightly embarrassed, and we began to talk properly.

“I’m from Manila,” I explained. “I’m on my way to visit a friend—a nun—in the next town, Santa Fe. I only stopped here because I was exhausted from the long drive.”

“A nun? So you’re a nun, too?” Zanjo’s eyes widened in surprise. “Forgive me, Sister Cristine! I had no idea. What have I done? You’re actually quite beautiful, Sister… but man, you’re cranky. I bet in whatever orphanage you’re stationed at, you’re their ‘Miss Minchin.’ I’m sure of it. With that attitude of yours, I bet all the kids are terrified of you!”

“Excuse me, I’m not—” My sentence was cut short when Zanjo suddenly stood up and yanked me toward him.

“If you even try to hurt this woman, I won’t hesitate to expose exactly what you are to everyone here,” Zanjo barked.

The man Zanjo had been watching earlier stepped forward, his eyes cold and menacing. “Don’t you ever get tired of following us around?” the man sneered.

“Never,” Zanjo replied, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Not until I’ve collected the debt you owe for what you did to my family. Your entire clan is going to pay.”

The man stared at him for a tense moment before calmly turning around and walking out of the coffee shop.

Once he was gone, Zanjo looked down at me and asked if I was okay. Of course, I was okay! I mean, who wouldn’t be after being pressed against his rock-solid chest? Ugh, why did that sound so indecent in my head?

“Yes, I’m fine,” I said, pulling away and trying to regain my composure. “And for your information, I’m not a nun, so stop calling me ‘Sister.’ Last I checked, we weren’t related. I came from a convent, but I never took the vows.”

“Good,” he said, a playful smirk returning to his face. “It would have been a waste; you’re far too beautiful for that.” He gave me a quick wink and hurried out of the coffee shop before I could respond.

After killing some time at the coffee shop, I decided to move on. It was actually quite funny—despite the heated exchange between the aswang guy and the arrogant Zanjo earlier, the other customers barely batted an eye. Total indifference. Once I was done, I looked for a motel, and luckily, I found one.

I checked my wristwatch; it was almost seven in the evening. I stepped into the motel and approached the front desk.

“Hi, I’d like to get a room. Do you have any available?” I asked the receptionist.

“Yes, ma’am, we still have vacancies. Would you like a single bed or a room for two?” she asked. I was just about to say “single bed” when the jerk appeared out of nowhere again.

“A single bed, Miss—for me and my wife. It’s our honeymoon, right, Da ?” the monster said, flashing a charming grin at me.

“Oh, how sweet! Your call sign is so cute. ‘Da’ is short for ‘Darling,’ I’m sure. Am I right, sir?” the receptionist gushed, clearly enchanted by him.

“The moment you fall asleep, that’s when I’ll kill you,” I hissed at him, my voice a sharp whisper. “Why are you following me? Are you a dog? You just won’t quit!”

“You’re absolutely right, Miss,” he replied to the receptionist with a charming smile, completely ignoring my threat.

“Here is the key to your room, Sir and Ma’am. Enjoy your stay,” the receptionist said. I reached for it, but the monster swiped it before I could even touch the keychain.

“I should hold the key since I’m the one paying,” he whispered back. I had no choice but to stomp along behind the jerk.

Once we were inside the room…

“In fairness, the room is actually quite big,” I remarked, scanning the space.

“Miss, I’m sorry for following you,” Zanjo said, his tone suddenly shifting from playful to serious. “I just don’t want those aswangs to get to you. Don’t worry—I won’t sleep. I’ll be standing guard.” Without another word, he headed straight for the bathroom.

“Wait! Where are you going?” I asked.

“To shower? Why, you want to join me?” He flashed a smirk that was definitely loaded with meaning.

“In your dreams! Hurry up because I’m next,” I snapped.

“Yes, Da !” he called out.

While waiting for Zanjo to finish, I checked my phone for any updates on my parents’ case. My brother had sent a text, but there was still nothing. He always makes sure to update me, no matter how small the news.

A few moments later, the sound of the running water stopped, and the bathroom door creaked open. There he was—Zanjo, with a body like Adonis, with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.

I didn’t even realize I was staring, completely frozen in place.

“Hey, watch it. You might melt me with that stare,” he teased. “You think I’m handsome, don’t you?”

“I do not!” I snapped, jumping to my feet. I started pacing around, pretending to look for a signal. “I’m just… looking for a bars!”

“Wait—get away from the window! I can feel them!” Zanjo’s voice suddenly turned sharp as he scrambled to put on his clothes.

“Who? Who’s ‘them’?” I asked, my heart beginning to race.

“Can you smell that? That foul, fishy stench?” Zanjo said, his face hardening. “They’re here.” He reached for his belongings and unsheathed his Katana .

TO BE CONTINUED…

CHAPTER SEVEN - THE WEAPON

“

Katana and Kampilan“

“Do you smell that?” Zanjo asked me again, his hand gripping the hilt of his Katana.

Even though I could feel a strange, malevolent force gathering outside our room, I continued to play the part of someone clueless about Bellators and the war against the shadows. Before she passed, Sister Maricar had left me with a haunting warning:

“There are Bellators who have already defected to the darkness. Be careful, Cristine. Do not trust easily. Use your heart and your instincts to feel if someone is truly a friend or a foe!”

I was pulled back to the present by a sudden, deafening crack of thunder that echoed throughout the town. Moments later, the rain began to pour in torrents.

“Maybe what you’re smelling is just the steam rising from the dry earth,” I said, trying to sound casual. “Haven’t you ever smelled that before?”

“Never mind. You wouldn’t understand; you’re not a Bellator anyway,” the young man replied coldly. He reached for the door handle, Katana in hand.

“Hey! Wait! Someone might report you. Hide that sword! You’re being ridiculous!” I scolded him, trying to keep up my act.

“Stay here. Do not go out,” Zanjo commanded. “I have a fight to finish. I’m going to make them pay for murdering my girlfriend.”

Before stepping out, he slapped a piece of white paper—a talisman—onto the wall and slammed the door shut.

“Wait!” I screamed, but the guy seemed hell-bent on a suicide mission.

I have to admit, even now, I still doubt my own abilities as a Bellator. But I have no choice; I have to find my mother and father.

Meanwhile, in a modest house, an elderly woman sat alone, her eyes fixed on an old photograph. Her solitude was broken by a knock at the door. When she opened it, she found a familiar face.

“Ricky? What are you doing here, my boy?” the woman asked.

“Good morning, Sister Stella. May I come in?” Ricky requested.

“Oh, of course. Come, sit down!” the elderly nun invited warmly.

As soon as Ricky sat, he scanned the room, his eyes searching every corner. The old woman quickly noticed his unease.

“What is it, Ricky? Is there a problem?” Sister Stella asked.

“Have Cristine and Zanjo arrived here yet, Sister?” Ricky inquired.

“They haven’t made their way here. Why? And where is Maricar? Isn’t she with you?” the nun asked.

Before Ricky could answer, a young woman emerged from the kitchen. “Auntie, dinner is ready,” she said with a smile. Upon seeing Ricky, she rushed over and gave him a tight hug.

“Ricky! It’s been so long since you last visited. Wait—where’s Sister Maricar? Is she with you?” the girl asked excitedly.

“I’m afraid I have tragic news,” Ricky began, his voice heavy. “Sister Maricar fell in battle while protecting the new Bellator, Cristine.”  Grief and shock were etched into their faces as the tragic fate of the virtuous nun sank in.

“The daughter of Nova and Alcazar has not yet reached her full potential as a Bellator,” Sister Stella remarked gravely. “Not until I have bestowed my blessing upon her.”

“That is why they were heading here, Sister Stella,” Ricky explained. “But they were intercepted by a clan of aswangs along the way.”

Back to Cristine and Zanjo…

Zanjo stood his ground against three powerful aswangs .

“Give up, human! You are no match for us!” one of the male aswangs jeered. From the shadows behind him, an army of countless monsters began to emerge. “What can a lone Bellator do against an entire clan?”

Zanjo merely smirked, wiping the blood from his lip—a mark from his initial clash with the three. His body was covered in deep wounds and bruises, while the three monsters before him remained untouched, without a single scratch on their pale skin.

“This is your end,” the leader hissed. “You’re about to follow your precious girlfriend and your mother into the grave!”

With a burst of unnatural speed, the aswang lunged at Zanjo, claws bared for the kill.Zanjo attempted to whisper a prayer of protection, but the words faltered on his lips, choked by the searing pain of his wounds. He was fading fast.

The lead aswang lunged, his claws poised to rip the heart straight out of Zanjo’s chest. But in a flash of blinding movement, a figure intervened, severing the monster’s hand before he could even blink.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t try that again. Unless, of course, you want your head to follow that hand,” Cristine said, her brow arched in a cold, defiant stare before she delivered a powerful kick that sent the monster reeling.

Zanjo watched in stunned silence. Cristine was no longer the “novice nun” he had teased. She was now clad in the suit her mother had meticulously sewn for her, and her hair had shifted into a vibrant, fiery red.

“W-who are you?” the aswang stammered, clutching the bleeding stump where his hand used to be.

“Inspector Red. That’s what you’ll call me. Entiendes? “ Cristine replied, her voice steady and sharp.

In her grip, she held the Kampilan —the legendary blade of her father. Zanjo’s eyes widened as he recognized the divine weapon.

“Manong Alcazar’s Kampilan…” he whispered in awe.

A swarm of aswangs surged toward Cristine. With lightning speed, she chanted a prayer of protection, and the weapon in her hand began to transform. The Kampilan split into two distinct blades.

“The First Form of the Kampilan: Purity and Liberation ,” Zanjo whispered, watching in awe from the sidelines. “She isn’t killing them… she’s severing the curse.”

True enough, every monster struck by Cristine’s blades did not fall dead. Instead, their distorted features melted away, and they reverted back into their original human forms.

“Her swords don’t leave wounds,” the one-handed leader shouted in panic. “But once they touch us, we turn back into humans!”

“Boss, we have to get out of here!” another aswang cried out.

“Retreat! We must report this to the Council!” the leader commanded.

They turned to flee, but the sudden, deafening crack of a gunshot froze them in their tracks.

“Is that how you treat your enemies—by running away?” Cristine teased, now holstering a caliber .45 pistol.

The leader’s companion bolted into the shadows. Without a second’s hesitation, Cristine pulled the trigger. Even though the target was already at a great distance, the bullet found its mark, and the aswang instantly disintegrated into ash.

The leader, desperate to survive, shifted into a large black bird to take flight. But in a blur of motion, Cristine’s Kampilan shifted once more—this time, transforming into a divine bow and arrow.

“Holy Arrow!” Cristine shouted, her voice echoing through the rain. She released the string, and the arrow soared with divine speed.

Even though the black bird had reached an incredible height, the arrow struck it with unerring precision. Just like the one before, the creature instantly disintegrated into a cloud of ash.

“The Bow and Arrow of Judgment,” Zanjo whispered, his eyes wide as he struggled to stand. “And the gun she’s holding—that belonged to Manang Nova. It’s Liksi (Swiftness).”

He watched as Cristine lowered her weapon, the fiery red of her hair glowing amidst the dark, stormy night. She was the perfect fusion of her father’s strength and her mother’s speed.

Once the aswangs Cristine had struck were restored to their human forms, she rushed over to Zanjo. She supported his weight, helping the weakened young man back toward the motel.

As they struggled along the path, Zanjo’s voice was barely a whisper, filled with confusion and awe. “How… how do you have the weapons of Manong Alcazar and Manang Nova? Who are you, really?”

Cristine didn’t answer right away. She offered him a gentle, enigmatic smile.

“Just rest for now, Jo,” she said softly.

Reassured by her voice, Zanjo finally let go, his eyes fluttering shut as he drifted into unconsciousness. As she watched over him, the vibrant, fiery red of Cristine’s hair slowly faded, returning to its natural color.

To be continued….

CHAPTER EIGHT - LIGHT BAPTISM

“LIGHT BAPTISM AND WITCHES”

Chaos erupted across the campus as students looked up to see one of their peers standing on the ledge of the school building’s highest floor. The student appeared to be in a trance, completely detached from reality.

While the crowd below watched in terror, one female student stood perfectly still, her eyes locked onto the figure above without so much as a blink. Moments later, the school principal arrived, desperate to talk the student down.

“My child, please come down from there. For the love of God, don’t throw your life away!” pleaded the principal, whom the students knew as Mrs. Dante.

When the student saw the principal from below, they uttered one final, defiant sentence before stepping off the edge.

“I refuse to be enslaved by you!”

As the student’s body hit the concrete below, a pool of crimson liquid began to spread across the pavement, staining the cold ground.

Finally, we reached Sister Stella’s home. It was there that Ricky and the elderly nun explained everything—the truth about my parents and the legacy of the Bellators.

“Tomorrow, at the first light of dawn, we will perform your Holy Baptism, Cristine,” Sister Stella said, cradling a cup of hot coffee.

“Sister Stella, what about Lilith? Ricky mentioned her name. What kind of creature is she, and why did she take my mother and father?” I asked, needing answers.

Sister Stella let out a long, weary sigh. “You might not fully understand it yet, but I know you will choose to remain in the Light and become its champion.” The nun stood up, assisted by her niece as she headed up the stairs.

“I’m heading up too, Tin. You should get some sleep; I know the journey was exhausting,” Ricky added before following them.

Zanjo stepped closer and looked me straight in the eyes. “Cristine, I knew your parents. They have faith that you will find them. For now, listen to Sister and Ricky. Get some rest. I’ll handle the watch tonight, okay?” He gave me a reassuring smile, revealing the deep dimples on his cheeks.

I nodded and headed to the guest room Sister Stella had prepared.

Back at the school where the horrific suicide took place…

“Good morning, Rizah! How are you?” a student greeted at the gate.

Rizah smiled when she realized who it was. “Sandy? You’re back? I thought you and your parents were moving to Hawaii for good.”

“Unfortunately, plans changed. So, I’ll be continuing my studies here in the Philippines,” Sandy replied as they walked past the school building. “Wait… isn’t this the school from the news last night?”

“Huh? Why? What happened?” Rizah asked.

“Yesterday, a student—a Grade 8, I think—jumped from that building. They said the kid was stressed from bullying. Apparently, the principal here refused to acknowledge the student as her own child,” Sandy explained.

“Is that so?” Rizah whispered. Her eyes were fixed on the school gate, where she could clearly see the ghost of the dead student. It was a gruesome sight—the child was still drenched in their own blood.

“Rizah? Are you okay? Hey!” Sandy shook her friend’s shoulder. Rizah snapped back to reality.

“Oh, yes, I’m fine! Let’s go, we might be late!” Rizah said, hurrying toward the adjacent building where her classes were held.

The next morning… Sister Stella stood before Cristine, holding a crucifix and a flask of holy water.

“Are you ready?” Sister Stella asked. “I am, Sister,” she replied firmly.

“I bless and baptize you in the name of our Lord,” Sister Stella declared as she placed the crucifix around Cristine’s neck. She poured the holy water over Cristine’s head, chanting a sacred prayer. After finishing the oration, she traced a sign of the cross in the air.

“Rise, Cristine. You have been baptized by the Light. You are now a full-fledged Bellator,” Sister Stella said with a warm smile.

“Thank you, Sister Stella. I know Sister Maricar would be so proud to see me like this,” Cristine said, tears of joy streaming down her face.

“I am certain of it,” Sister Stella whispered, pulling her into a tight embrace.

Their moment was interrupted when Ricky came rushing toward them, clutching a newspaper. “Sister Stella, Cristine—look at this. It seems a school is in desperate need of a Bellator’s help.” He pointed to the grim headline on the front page.

Meanwhile, back with Rizah…

Rizah went into the girls’ restroom to freshen up when the lights suddenly flickered. “You won’t scare me, whoever you are,” she muttered defiantly. When the lights stabilized, she saw a filthy, disheveled woman staring at her through the mirror.

“Help… help me!” the ghost pleaded before vanishing into thin air. A small object hit the floor with a soft thud. It was a hair clip.

Rizah slowly picked it up. The moment her skin touched the plastic, a violent vision flooded her mind.

“Sir! Please, stop!” cried a girl who looked exactly like the ghost. An elderly man was forcing himself upon her. Desperate, the girl kicked him in the stomach. Enraged, the old teacher grabbed her and slammed her head against the sink. Rizah watched in horror as the crimson liquid flowed from the girl’s head, masking her face.

“Noooo!” Rizah screamed as the old man in her vision suddenly turned his gaze toward her.

She gasped, waking up on the floor of the cubicle. She realized she had passed out, but the horror wasn’t over. Clutched tightly in her left hand was the actual hair clip from her vision.

“No! This can’t be happening. I can’t use this ability… it’s evil!” Rizah cried, scrambling to her feet and bolting out of the restroom.

TO BE CONTINUED…

CHAPTER NINE - THE GLOWING MARK AND THE PUPPETEER

Rizah’s P.O.V.

My sister has no idea that I possess this power—the ability to see things that have already passed and things that are yet to come. Visions. I’ve known for a long time that Mom and Dad were Bellators. I know Ate Cristine is one, too, and I have a feeling she has finally achieved her full potential by now.

But the Bellators I’ve met told me that this gift of mine comes from the darkness. That’s why they gave me a warding ring to suppress it, so I would never have to use it. But one day, I lost that ring. And now…

My train of thought was interrupted by the ringing of my phone. Ate Cristine’s name flashed on the screen. I answered immediately.

“Hello, Rizah? How are you doing over there?” my sister asked from the other end of the line.

I told her I was doing fine. She then began to tell me about her baptism and how she was finally a full-fledged Bellator.

“Rizah, we’re heading to the school right next to yours,” she continued. “Ricky found a lead regarding the people who abducted Mom and Dad.”

The truth is, I already knew. I had seen and heard the entire incident. I had already used my ability to uncover the truth, and this is what really happened…

“THE UNHOLY PACT”    Flashback >>>

The doors burst open, and a violent gust of wind swept into the room. Along with the storm came a woman clad in a long, obsidian-black dress.

“I’ve come to claim my child!” the stranger demanded, her voice cutting through the air. “Where is she?”

My mother stood up immediately, her face pale as she uttered the woman’s name. “Lilith?”

“The one and only,” Lilith smirked. “It’s time to take back what belongs to me. I know my child isn’t dead—I can feel her presence.”

My father finally spoke up, his voice firm and defiant. “She is not your daughter. She is ours. Leave now. Perhaps you’ve forgotten that we are Bellators. Your black magic has no power here.”

“Oh, I haven’t forgotten,” she replied with a chilling smile, her eyes shifting toward me. “So, this must be your daughter? You poor thing… do you have any idea that they begged for my help just so the two of you could be born? But no matter. What’s done is done. I shall leave, but not without a parting gift.”

With a sudden wave of her hand, my mother and father were lifted off the ground, suspended in mid-air. Their bodies were suddenly engulfed in mystical flames.

“Rizah, save yourself!” my mother screamed through the pain. “Tell your sister the truth… that—”

Before she could finish her sentence, they vanished into thin air.

Even now, that memory feels as fresh as if it happened only yesterday.

Back at Sister Stella’s house, the nun watched Cristine from a distance. “This girl still isn’t sleeping,” she whispered, noticing Cristine was still on the phone. Suddenly, a mysterious mark on the back of Cristine’s neck began to glow with an eerie light.

Zanjo, hidden in the shadows, saw it too. “I must fulfill the command of her parents,” he murmured to himself. Sister Stella glanced at him and sighed. “In the end, it is still her choice which path she will take—whether she embraces the Darkness or the Light.”

The next morning, Cristine, Zanjo, and Ricky arrived at the school. Rizah was already there to meet them.

“Ate, I missed you!” Rizah cried, throwing her arms around her older sister.

“Rizah, these are my companions. Ricky, and this is Zanjo,” Cristine introduced them.

“Oh! So this is Zanjo? Mr. Arrogant but cute because of the dimples? Your crush?” Rizah blurted out.

“Rizah! Be quiet! I never said that!” Cristine hissed, her face turning bright red as she tried to cover her sister’s mouth. Zanjo just chuckled, but the lighthearted moment was shattered by a sudden commotion. Students were screaming and running toward the open field.

Rizah stopped a fleeing student. “What’s happening?”

“Another student is about to jump!” the boy yelled before rushing off. Rizah’s classmate, Clarissa, grabbed her arm. “It’s Madison! She’s on the roof. Let’s go, we have to talk to her!”

From the open ground, they looked up. Madison was standing on the very edge of the building, staring at the sky before looking down at the horrified crowd below.

“The witch is here. I can smell her,” Zanjo muttered, his hand twitching near his weapon.

“But why is she doing this?” Cristine asked.

“There! I see her,” Ricky pointed to a female student standing unusually still among the crowd.

They immediately approached the girl and whispered a command. “Stop this at once!” Cristine ordered. But the girl suddenly turned and slammed her forehead against Cristine’s in a violent headbutt.

Cristine stumbled back, but Rizah caught her. Ricky and Zanjo moved like lightning to restrain the strange student. The moment they neutralized her, the hypnotic spell broke—Madison, safely perched on the roof, blinked as if waking from a dream and stepped away from the ledge.

“Who is your master?” they demanded, cornering the girl.

“You will never find out… because I’m going to kill you first,” she hissed. She moved to lunge at them, but Zanjo had already immobilized her with a specialized binding technique.

“Go ahead, break the chair if you want,” Zanjo said coldly. “But you aren’t escaping from here.”

The girl let out a chilling laugh. “Incompetent Bellators. I am not afraid of you. But just to make things exciting, I’ll tell you one thing.”

“What?” Cristine snapped.

“We are preparing for the return of the only child of Lilith.”

Everything happened in a blur. Before they could ask more, the student’s body suddenly went limp, and she collapsed, lifeless, on the floor.

“Damn it… it really is Lilith,” Ricky muttered, his face pale.

“We have to stop them,” Zanjo added, his jaw tight.

“We need to find Lilith’s child,” Cristine said, determined. “I heard what she said before she… ‘left the group’.”

At that moment, Ricky, Zanjo, and Rizah exchanged a long, uneasy look—a silence that spoke volumes.

TO BE CONTINUED…

CHAPTER TEN- THE WARNING AT THE GRAVESIDE

“ANGEL’S GRACE” (PART ONE )

Cristine and Zanjo were in the middle of their training when Sister Stella and Ricky arrived, carrying an ancient, weathered book.

“I never imagined I would have to open this book again,” Sister Stella murmured, her eyes fixed on the cover. Cristine and Zanjo silently approached her. Ricky was the first to speak, asking about the rumors surrounding Lilith’s offspring.

“Did Lilith really have a child, Sister? Based on my research, she’s described as a succubus—a demon of the night.”

“I cannot say for certain. But according to the texts Sister Maricar and I studied, Lilith was the first woman in the Garden,” Sister Stella explained. “She left Paradise because she refused to be subservient to Adam. Three archangels tried to stop her, but she was stubborn. I don’t recall everything she did, but she made a vow to those angels: any male infant named after them would be spared from her malice.”

“I’ve heard stories about that too,” Cristine added. “Sister Maricar once told me that when Lucifer was stripped of his wings and cast down to Earth, he and Lilith crossed paths. And well… the rest is history.”

“We still haven’t found your parents, Cristine,” Sister Stella said gravely. “They are the only ones who know the locations of the three divine weapons left by the archangels on Earth.”

“Wait—Papa wrote something about those weapons in his journal! I’ll go get it!” Cristine exclaimed. But before she could move, Rizah appeared, already holding the journal.

“I have it here, Ate,” Rizah said, handing it over. Cristine quickly flipped through the pages until she found the right entry and showed it to Sister Stella.

“This is it,” Sister Stella read aloud. “The Sword of Archangel Michael , symbolizing Fire . Second, the War Fan of Archangel Gabriel , symbolizing the element of Air . And finally, the Sacred Pen , symbolizing the element of Earth , from Archangel David .”

“A sword is cool, Sister… but a fan and a pen?” Zanjo remarked, scratching his head. “Why those?”

“I am not the Lord, my boy; I don’t have all the answers,” Sister Stella replied with a dry smile. “Only the archangels know. But in all seriousness—we must find these three weapons. We have to get to them before the forces of darkness do.”

Zanjo stared intently at the numbers scribbled on the margins of the journal’s pages.

“There are numbers here…” Zanjo noted, pointing at the sequence.

“Those might be coordinates, Kuya Zee,” Rizah suggested helpfully.

“Coordinates for what?” Cristine asked, her confusion evident.

“Coordinates for where the weapons are hidden,” Ricky answered, leaning in.

“That makes sense. I remember your mother was quite brilliant with things like these,” Sister Stella added with a nod.

Cristine grabbed a pen and paper to jot down the figures. “One, two, seven? So 127… “

“And?” Zanjo prompted.

“And it means 127 kilometers starting from Angels’ Cemetery. You see this drawing of an angel? Sorry, Papa, but it’s a bit of a mess! Anyway, I know exactly where this cemetery is,” Cristine explained.

“Then it’s time to start the hunt,” Zanjo declared, ready for action.

“I’m coming too, Ate!” Rizah insisted.

“Riz? It might be too dangerous!” Cristine said, her protective older-sister instincts kicking in.

“Ate, I’m not a child anymore. I’ve been a Bellator since I was five. Besides, I’m 23 now. I can hold my own in a fight, you know?” Rizah countered.

“But…” Cristine’s voice trailed off.

“She’s right, Cristine. You will need Rizah’s unique abilities. And Ricky will be coming along to assist you all as well,” Sister Stella decided.

“Wait, me too?” Ricky asked, caught off guard.

“Ricky, you’re going. Cristine needs your guidance. Zanjo can’t manage everything alone if it’s just him and Rizah,” Sister Stella commanded.

“Alright, I’m in!” Ricky conceded, and Sister Stella gave him a knowing wink.

The next day, the four of them set out for the coordinates.

While on the road, Cristine and Rizah spoke softly about their parents. “I wonder how they are? I hope they’re okay…” Cristine whispered, leaning her head on Rizah’s shoulder.

“I just hope they’re safe—and that those killers aren’t hurting them,” Rizah replied. She hesitated for a moment before adding, “Ate, can I ask you something? Please don’t be mad.”

“Sure, what is it?”

“What if you had a power that originated from evil? Would you use it for good… or for bad?” Rizah asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Cristine was about to answer when Zanjo suddenly butt in. “I’d probably use it for good… and maybe a little bad, but only when necessary!” he said, laughing.

“Happy? You happy now?” Cristine snapped, arching an eyebrow at him.

“Man, your sister is so grumpy,” Zanjo teased. Meanwhile, Ricky remained silent, his eyes squeezed shut as he fought off a bout of motion sickness.

“Rick, help me out here…” Zanjo nudged him.

“Leave me alone, I’m dying back here…” Ricky groaned.

Hours later, they finally reached the cemetery. “Do we start searching here and keep going until we hit the finish line?” Ricky asked, finally opening his eyes.

“Where and how do we even begin? Are we going to interview the dead?” Zanjo joked.

“You know what, Jo? You’re a genius. We are going to ask around!” Cristine said.

“Wait, seriously? We’re talking to ghosts?” Ricky asked, shocked.

“No, you idiots! There’s an old man cleaning over there. We’ll ask him,” Cristine said, marching toward an elderly man tending to a grave.

“Good day, sir?” Cristine greeted. The old man glanced at her but continued his work without a word.

“Excuse me, sir?” she tried again. Still no response.

“Sir! Are you deaf?” Cristine called out. The old man finally turned, his gaze hollow and chilling.

“You shouldn’t have come here… a tragedy is approaching. Be on your guard,” the old man rasped.

Suddenly, Rizah gasped, her head spinning as she began to collapse. Luckily, Ricky caught her just in time. Cristine rushed to her sister’s side.

“Rizah! Are you okay?”

“The old man is right,” Rizah whispered, her eyes wide with terror. “He’s coming. He’s almost here!”

TO BE CONTINUED…

CHAPTER ELEVEN - THE TRIAL OF REFLECTIONS

“ANGEL’S GRACE: THE SWORD OF ARCHANGEL MICHAEL”

Continuing our story… Cristine and her group arrived at the cemetery to find the first divine weapon: the Sword of Archangel Michael.

“Who’s coming, Ate?” Rizah asked, her voice trembling.

“Get back!” Cristine commanded. She immediately drew the gun her mother left her—the weapon she called Liksi (Swiftness). She aimed it directly at a massive, ancient tree nearby.

“If I were you, I’d come out now. You won’t escape the sting of Liksi ,” Cristine warned.

“Get ready!” Zanjo added, his hand gripping the hilt of his blade.

“She’s not an evil being, Ate,” Rizah whispered, her eyes locked onto the tree.

“Rizah is right. She’s a Bellator,” Ricky added, sensing the aura.

From behind the massive trunk, a woman stepped out. “Forgive me if I startled you. It wasn’t our intention to frighten or surprise you,” the woman said with a gentle smile.

“‘Our’? What do you mean?” Cristine asked, her finger still on the trigger.

The woman glanced back at the tree, and another woman emerged—her exact likeness.

“I am Karen, and this is my twin, Jade,” she introduced.

Suddenly, an ordinary woman walked past them, passing right through the twins’ bodies as if they were made of mist. The passerby looked at Cristine’s group and muttered, “Kids these days are getting weirder and weirder,” scratching her head before walking away.

“Only you can see us,” Jade explained. “Your eyes are like that of a young child—pure and unclouded. Your consciousness is wide open.”

“What you feel, Bellator, is a warning. The prophecy that will plunge humanity into peril is about to unfold,” Karen stated solemnly.

“W-what do you mean? Is this about Lilith’s return to conquer the world?” Cristine asked, while Ricky, Rizah, and Zanjo listened intently.

“You are mistaken, Bellator. Lilith is not the one who will do it. She is merely an instrument. Just like you—a vessel for what is destined to happen,” Karen replied.

“The choice lies within you,” Jade added. “Will you side with the Light, or will you embrace the Darkness?”

“I don’t understand. What are you talking about?” Cristine’s voice trembled with confusion.

“You are the key to balancing light and shadow,” Karen answered.

Cristine looked toward Zanjo and Rizah, but they could only shake their heads in bewilderment. Ricky finally stepped in, cutting through the cryptic talk. “Cristine, your mission is to find the first divine weapon. Focus.”

“The weapon you seek is here,” Jade said. “But you must pass the trial that only the Sword of Archangel Michael can provide.”

“They are the spirit guides of the Blade,” Zanjo realized. Suddenly, Karen and Jade made a swift gesture with their hands. The world shifted and blurred, and in an instant, the scenery changed. Ricky, Rizah, and Zanjo vanished—only Cristine and the twins remained.

“Where am I?” Cristine gasped.

“You are in the Realm of the Ancients. We will give you a trial to prove your worth,” the twins spoke in unison.

“I’m ready,” Cristine said, holstering her gun.

“First trial: A battle of wits and will,” they declared.

“I hope this isn’t about mathematics…” Cristine muttered under her breath.

Suddenly, the twins began to transform. Their features melted and reshaped until they looked exactly like Ricky and Rizah.

“Now, fight us, Cristine,” said Jade, wearing Rizah’s face and voice.

Cristine hesitated, her hands shaking as she reached for her father’s sword. Suddenly, a massive bolt of lightning struck her, causing her to scream in agony.

“Aaaaaahhhhh!!”

“Fight us, Sister,” Jade said with a mocking smile, before delivering a powerful blow straight to Cristine’s stomach.

“I will not fight you. You are both too important to me,” Cristine said, struggling to stand from where she had fallen on the cold ground.

“You are a coward! And reckless!” Jade barked, landing another punch. Karen, meanwhile, unfastened the bracelet from her wrist, and it transformed into a searing whip.

“Because of you, my sister died!” Karen screamed, lashing the whip across Cristine’s body. Yet, Cristine remained steadfast, refusing to strike back until the twins grew weary from their assault.

“Is this how you intend to fight your battles, Cristine? How do you expect to save your parents like this?” Jade taunted.

“I will not fight you,” Cristine repeated, focused on healing her wounds. “Sister Maricar taught me that violence isn’t always the answer.”

“Is that so? Then it’s time to punish this man instead,” Jade declared. Suddenly, Zanjo appeared, and Karen immediately seized him by the throat.

“Cristine, help me!” Zanjo gasped, struggling for air.

“No! Please… don’t hurt him!” Cristine cried out.

Karen and Jade exchanged a knowing look. “It seems you harbor special feelings for this man,” Karen observed coldly.

“Shall I end him now?” Jade asked, her blade poised.

“Do it. This man will only be the Key’s undoing.” As Jade moved to deliver the fatal blow, Cristine lunged forward, drawing her father’s sword. In an instant, her hair flared into a brilliant, fiery red, and the blade itself began to transform, radiating an intense heat.

The twins smirked at the sight.

“Now, Jade!” Karen shouted, waving her hand. Suddenly, time itself ground to a halt—frozen, leaving only the twins able to move.

“She is indeed the Key. My vision did not fail me. She is on our side, Karen,” Jade remarked, gazing at Cristine, who stood as motionless as a statue.

“And this man… he is her strength,” Karen added.

With a swift wave of Jade’s hand, the world blurred, snapping back into the present.

“Ate Cristine?” Rizah cried out in shock. “Cristine, are you alright?” Zanjo asked, his voice laced with worry.

As Cristine’s eyes fluttered open, she saw the concerned faces of Rizah, Ricky, and Zanjo hovering over her. She was lying on the ground, and as she regained full consciousness, the fiery red of her hair faded back to its natural black.

They helped her to her feet. Just as she found her balance, a young girl approached them, holding out a necklace with a sword-shaped pendant.

“This is for you, Ate,” the girl said. But as Cristine took the jewelry, she heard a different voice echoing in her mind: “When you need the blade, simply unfasten this necklace to release the sword’s true power.”

As the girl turned to walk away, Cristine noticed the name embroidered on the child’s jacket: Karen Jade Lopez, Grade 5 - Stars.

Zanjo nudged her, playfully pinching her cheek. “You didn’t even say thank you to the kid? What a bad influence,” he teased.

“Oh, right—thank you!” Cristine called out with a smile as the girl disappeared into the distance.

“Wait, Ate—did you get the sword?” Rizah asked eagerly. “Yes. It’s this necklace,” she answered, clutching the pendant.

“Well done, Cristine. Let’s head back to the house for now,” Ricky suggested, his eyes lingering thoughtfully on the necklace.

“That was amazing. How did you get it? What did they do to you? You were unconscious for an hour, you know,” Zanjo said.

Cristine looked at him, the memory of seeing him “die” in the vision still fresh in her heart. Without a word, she pulled him into a tight embrace, hiding her face against his chest.

“Are you okay?” she whispered. “Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me,” Zanjo replied with a gentle, reassuring smile.

“Wait,” Ricky said, his voice dropping an octave. “Do you feel that?”

The temperature around them plummeted. The birds that were chirping moments ago went silent, and a thick, unnatural fog began to crawl over the gravestones.

“Rizah, get behind me,” Cristine commanded, her hand instinctively reaching for the necklace. She felt the pendant vibrate against her skin—the Sword of Michael was reacting to a foul presence.

From the shadows of a large mausoleum, a tall figure emerged. He was dressed in a tattered barong, his skin as pale as marble, and his eyes glowing with a sickly yellow hue. He wasn’t just any aswang ; he was a Heraldo —a high-ranking messenger of the Council.

“The Sword of the Archangel has finally found a master,” the Heraldo hissed, his voice sounding like dry leaves scraping on stone. “Lilith will be pleased. She told us that the Key would eventually lead us to the treasures.”

“So, you used us to find the sword?” Zanjo spat, drawing his blade. “Talk about lazy.”

“Not just the sword, boy,” the Heraldo smirked, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth. “We want the Key herself. Hand over the girl, and perhaps I’ll let the rest of you die quickly.”

Cristine stepped forward, her eyes flashing with a hint of red. She began to unfasten the clasp of her necklace. “If you want the Key, come and get her. But I should warn you… this ‘Key’ knows how to lock your soul in hell.”

The Herald did not wait for an opening. In a blur of motion, his claws extended like jagged obsidian, and he lunged at Cristine with the ferocity of a starving beast.

“Ate, to your right!” Rizah’s voice pierced the air, guided by the clarity of her visions.

Reacting instantly, Cristine tore the necklace from her neck. The moment the clasp broke, a blinding, celestial light erupted from her fist. The small pendant elongated and ignited, reshaping itself until she held a magnificent Golden Broadsword that pulsed with heat.

“ANGEL’S GRACE: IGNIS!” Cristine roared.

She met the Herald’s claws head-on. As the holy steel collided with his talons, the air wasn’t just filled with the clang of metal—it was filled with the sickening hiss of searing flesh. The Herald recoiled, gasping in agony as he stared at his blackened, charred hands.

“Sacred fire…” the monster wheezed. “How can a creature like you wield a weapon of the Heavens?”

“Because the Light does not choose its vessel by birth, but by the purity of one’s heart,” Cristine countered. Her hair flared into a brilliant, fiery red, glowing in perfect unison with the radiating heat of the blade.

While the Herald was occupied with Cristine, Zanjo seized the moment. “Don’t forget about us!” he yelled. Using his supernatural speed, he circled behind the enemy and delivered a precision strike to the back of the creature’s legs, forcing the monster to its knees.

“Now, Cristine! Finish it!” Ricky shouted, his hands glowing as he cast a binding spell from his grimoire to lock the Herald in place.

TO BE CONTINUED…

CHAPTER TWELVE - THE LOST CODE

THE WAR FAN OF ARCHANGEL GABRIEL (PART ONE )

The story continues… They have successfully retrieved the Sword from the hands of its guardians. And as the journey deepens, Cristine is beginning to have a strange realization about who she truly is.

Back at the Convent of the Sisters of Light…

“The Sword of Archangel Michael is finally in a safe place,” Sister Stella announced.

“So, what’s next on the list, Ate?” Rizah asked. Cristine, however, was preoccupied, staring intently at the pages of a book.

“I can’t understand a single word written here!” Cristine complained, pointing to the scribbled entries in her father’s journal.

Sister Stella and Rizah leaned in to examine the text, trying to decipher it, but they were met with total confusion.

“It’s not Baybayin ,” Sister Stella noted. “We are all well-versed in reading the ancient script.”

“Even I was taught by Mom how to read and write in Baybayin ,” Rizah added. “But I’ve never seen these characters before.”

“Was Mom a member here, Sister Stella?” Cristine asked curiously.

Sister Stella replied quickly. “Your mother wasn’t a nun. We simply took her in and cared for her here at the convent. We taught her everything—from the scriptures to the art of fighting the disciples of darkness. That is why she knows the same secrets we do.”

“Sister Stella is always so cryptic,” Zanjo muttered, taking a loud sip from his cup.

Sister Stella immediately smacked him on the back of the head.

“Zanjo, you are still as disrespectful to your elders as ever. Have you forgotten when we hung you upside down in a sack? If Sister Maricar hadn’t taken pity on you, you’d probably be dried fish by now!” Sister Stella retorted.

Rizah and Ricky burst into laughter at the exchange, but the joy was cut short when Cristine spoke up.

“Who are my real parents?”

The room fell into a deafening silence. Everyone exchanged uneasy glances. Sister Stella walked over to Cristine, gently stroking her hair.

“Why would you even ask that? Of course, they are—” Sister Stella began, but Cristine cut her off.

“I know I’m not their biological daughter!” Cristine said, pointing to the old photograph tucked into the journal—a picture of Alcazar as a young man and Nova as a young lady.

“Ate…” Rizah started to say, but she fell silent as Cristine spoke again.

“When I faced the twins, Karen and Jade, they told me something about the blood flowing through my veins,” Cristine began, her voice trembling. “They said it seemed… connected to Lilith. Please, tell me the truth. Do you know something about my real identity?”

“So what if you’re the daughter of Lilith or whoever else? Even if you were the daughter of Janice,” Zanjo interrupted, his tone firm yet gentle. “It’s still up to you whether you choose to be good or evil. Color doesn’t define who you are, Da . It’s what’s in your heart. You are the master of your own destiny. You choose your own path.”

He stepped forward and pulled Cristine into a sudden, protective embrace.

“ Da !“ was all Cristine could whisper, stunned by Zanjo’s sudden gesture.

“Zanjo is right,” Ricky added, nodding in agreement. “What does it matter if you are Lilith’s daughter? We believe in the goodness within you.”

As Zanjo held Cristine, his eyes drifted toward the page they had been struggling to read earlier. He pulled back slightly, his gaze narrowing as he studied the symbols.

“Wait a minute… I recognize this handwriting!” he exclaimed, leaning closer to the letters.

“Whose?” Cristine asked.

“My father’s. I’m certain of it. These are Baybayin characters written in reverse. And what they mean is…” Zanjo trailed off, his eyes fixed on the journal.

“Yes, it says here: ‘Pamaypay ari kun de Gabriel uis lez ma kel ezu shii ari byan ariwa. Kun sirawa awe.’ It’s a mix of different languages from various countries, all coded into backward Baybayin ,” Zanjo explained.

“And what does it actually mean?” Sister Stella asked, leaning in.

The young man didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he recited the phrase over and over, stopping only after the fifth repetition.

“What is it, Da ?” Cristine asked impatiently.

“It means… well, I can’t actually understand my dad either because his handwriting is like a doctor’s,” Zanjo joked, breaking the tension. “But if we could ask him directly, we’d know exactly what these words mean.”

Cristine immediately reached out and pinched his cheek hard.

“There you go! You’re really an expert at that!” Cristine teased, half-annoyed and half-relieved.

“Ouch! Take it easy,” Zanjo groaned, rubbing his cheek. “But there’s one problem—my old man is gone; he’s up in heaven now. Oh! Wait, Manang Lucia! She knows exactly what these writings mean.”

“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go see Manang Lucia,” Ricky urged.

“Ah… well, come to think of it, she’s dead too,” Zanjo replied flatly.

“Honestly, Zanjo! You never have a straight answer!” Cristine snapped, pinching his cheek again.

“I had one earlier,” he teased. “I saw you blush.”

Cristine’s response was a swift punch to his face.

“Aaaaaarrrrraaayyyy!!” he wailed.

“You deserved that for being such a pest,” Sister Stella whispered under her breath.

“Yeah, Riz… your sister is actually terrifying,” Ricky whispered to Rizah. “It’s the first time I’ve ever seen Zanjo get beat up—especially by a girl.”

“If that’s the case, we’ll just have to talk to their souls,” Cristine said firmly.

“Cristine, no. That’s too dangerous,” Sister Stella warned. “You might accidentally summon something from… down below.”

“We don’t have a choice, Sister. Do you know anyone else who can help?” Cristine asked.

“There is one more person. My older sister, Valerie,” Zanjo said.

“You have a sister?” Cristine asked, surprised.

“Of course I do. What did you think? That I was just born out of thin air?” he quipped, before suddenly stealing a kiss on Cristine’s cheek.

“Zanjo’s style is so old-school,” Sister Stella joked, referencing a classic 90s love team. “Everything is just Chuvachuvachuchu !” With that, she retreated back into her room.

Without wasting another second, Cristine’s team hit the road to find Zanjo’s sister, Valerie.

Meanwhile, in a quiet house, a young girl entered and stared at a woman resting inside.

“Hi there. Are you lost, little girl?” the woman asked. Instead of answering, the child quickly bolted out of the house.

“Hey, wait a second!” the woman called out, chasing her. Once they were outside, the woman finally caught up and faced the child.

“Are you lost?” she asked again, concerned.

The little girl looked at her with eyes far older than her face. “They are coming soon. They seek the second sacred weapon. As its Guardian, I want you to test the Chosen One. Wake up, Valerie!”

Valerie snapped awake, blinking away the haze of sleep.

“A dream? It was just a dream!” Valerie muttered to herself, rubbing her eyes. She stood up and walked toward the mirror to fix her hair.

“I can’t believe I fell asleep. It’s almost four o’clock. The work day is nearly over,” she whispered to her reflection.

Suddenly, the image of the little girl appeared in the mirror behind her.

“Be fair in your judgment of her,” the child’s voice echoed.

“Who are you?” Valerie demanded, spinning around, but there was no one there.

“Like you, I am a Guardian,” the child’s voice whispered one last time before her image vanished from the glass.

Just then, Valerie’s phone began to ring. It was her brother.

“Zanjo! Why are you calling just now? We’ve been worried sick about you, you idiot! Where on earth are you?” she scolded, her protective sister instincts flaring up immediately.

TO BE CONTINUED…

CHAPTER THIRTEEN - THE LOST CODE

THE WAR FAN OF ARCHANGEL GABRIEL (PART TWO)

Our story continues as Cristine’s group seeks out Zanjo’s sister, hoping she can decipher the languages they cannot understand.

“Ate Val is the only one left who knows how to read and interpret these inscriptions,” Zanjo explained.

At the home of Valerie, Zanjo’s sister:

“I’m so happy to finally meet you, Cristine. Jojo was right—you really are beautiful,” Valerie said warmly while hosting them.

“Oh, you’re making me blush. Thank you so much for the food,” I replied, feeling a bit shy.

“Anyway, that’s enough praise, Ate. You’re talking too much,” Zanjo interrupted, teasing his sister.

“You never change, Jo,” Valerie said, arching an eyebrow at him. “So, what is it you actually need from me?”

“Miss Val, we have a favor to ask,” I said, showing her the page Zanjo had previously read. “Can you read this? Do you know what it means?”

Zanjo chimed in, “If I’m not mistaken, it says: ‘Pamaypay ari kun de Gabriel uis lez ma kel ezu shii ari byan ariwa. Kun sirawa awe.’ Right?”

“Pamaypay-your-face! You’re always full of nonsense,” Valerie retorted. “These letters are written in reversed Baybayin . If you rearrange the characters correctly, they form real words.”

As she spoke, I noticed a child pass behind her, heading toward the living room.

“Ate, are you okay?” Rizah asked me. I simply nodded, my eyes fixed on what Valerie was writing.

“Here it is: The Fan of Gabriel can be found within me. “ Valerie paused, frowning. She read it again. “Within me? Jo, you read it.”

Zanjo leaned in. “The fan belongs to my sister,” he read aloud.

Rizah and I moved closer, but the words looked different to us. “The fan belongs to Valerie,” we read in unison.

Suddenly, a child appeared.

“Jade?” I gasped, recognizing him.

“You are correct, and your wits haven’t abandoned you yet,” Jade said. “It is true—you are the guardian of the Second Holy Weapon.”

Jade reached out and touched Valerie’s hand. She instantly lost consciousness.

“Miss Val! My goodness! Jade, what did you do?” I cried out, but when I turned back, the boy had vanished.

Valerie’s limp body began to levitate. Suddenly, a pair of golden wings erupted from her back, wrapping around her like a protective cocoon.

“The Guardian of the Fan,” Ricky whispered. Rizah looked at him, stunned.

A moment later, the golden wings unfurled to reveal Valerie’s new form. She was bathed in a blinding, celestial light.

“I am Valeria, the guardian of the fan you seek,” she announced.

“Seriously? Valeria? What kind of stunt is this, Sis!” Zanjo shouted.

Valeria shot him a sharp look, then stepped toward me, her eyes shifting momentarily to Ricky. “So, you must be Cristine… the Chosen One?”

“I am,” I replied, bowing my head instinctively.

“Much as I wish to hand the fan to you, the weapon itself must decide if you are worthy. Do not worry; I shall be fair in my judgment.”

“The first mission: the Element of Air…” Valeria declared. Suddenly, objects began to float around the room.

“Air… strip them of their breath!” Valeria commanded, letting out a sharp, chilling laugh.

The air grew thin. A crushing pressure gripped our throats as the oxygen was sucked out of our lungs.

“Ate… I can’t breathe!” Rizah gasped, clutching at me.

Zanjo and Ricky rushed to our side, struggling just as we were.

“I have an idea, Tine… you have to fight the Guardian!” Ricky shouted, his voice strained.

“What?” I gasped. My body felt like lead. Beside me, Rizah and Ricky finally collapsed, their strength spent.

“Ricky! Rizah! Wake up!” I croaked, my vision blurring.

“Ricky is right,” Zanjo stammered, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. “You have to fight… to prove you’re worthy. I have a plan!”

“How?” I asked, clutching my necklace tight.

“I’m giving you oxygen!” Zanjo gasped. Before I could protest, he pulled my face toward his and pressed his lips against mine.

Slowly, a rush of air filled my lungs, and my strength began to return. I could breathe again.

“Wait—what are you doing!” I sputtered, trying to push him away. But Zanjo’s grip only tightened as he gestured toward my chest.

“You never play fair! You’re taking advantage of the situation!” I hissed, even as he maintained the contact to keep me conscious. Suddenly, Zanjo grabbed his own necklace and pressed it into my hand. As he let go, his eyes closed, and he slumped to the floor, unconscious.

“Jo!” I cried. In that instant, the necklace flared with light, transforming into a shimmering sword.

In the distance, the young boy Jade stood beside a woman with hair like spun gold.

“You’ve never been fair with your trials, Valeria,” the golden-haired woman remarked.

“It’s not so bad. I can see Cristine is becoming more prepared,” Jade replied. “Besides, would she have been chosen if she weren’t worthy? Get ready—you’re next to face them.”

The woman laughed, pulling a silver pen from her pocket. “I’m always ready, Jade.”

“You always are, Ilvic,” Jade said. Suddenly, the woman’s appearance shifted—her golden hair turned dark.

“What am I doing here?” Ilvic asked, looking around in confusion.

“Teacher, didn’t you say we were looking for flowers?” Jade asked with an innocent smile. “Where are they?”

“Oh, right! It seems we’ve wandered too far from the campsite. Let’s head back. Are you okay?” the teacher asked. Jade simply nodded, his smile never fading.

Back at the battlefield…

“I command you, my sword!” I shouted. “Restore their breath and break the Guardian’s curse!”

Nothing happened. The air began to thin again, and I felt the familiar burn in my chest. I looked at Rizah, Ricky, and Zanjo—all still motionless.

“The sword will not obey you,” Valeria taunted. “Jade only gave it to you out of pity. How pathetic!”

“Return to your true form!” I commanded the sword. It shrunk back into a necklace.

Determined, I pulled out my gun. “Liksi, don’t fail me now!” I fired directly at Valeria.

“Sacred Sun Bullets?” Valeria noted. As the bullet whistled toward her, she gave a flick of her fan, sending the projectile spiraling back at me. I dove to the side just in time.

Finally, I drew the Kampilan of my father, Alcazar.

“Father, please… watch over me!” I raised the blade high. It erupted in a brilliant light, and to my shock, the weapon began to suck in the white mist swirling around us.

“Impossible! The Kampilan of—” Valeria began, but she was cut short. The Kampilan shifted in my hands, its shape warping until it became an exact replica of the fan.

“Now! Call to the Fan!” Ricky’s voice rang out.

I spun around. They were awake. “How?”

“Your father’s Kampilan has the power to mimic any weapon it faces,” Ricky explained quickly. “The form it showed you before was just a copy of a previous foe. But these copies only last until the current enemy is defeated.”

“So the Kampilan and the Fan will become one?” Zanjo asked.

“Yes, but it could kill the original Guardian,” Ricky warned. “Call the Fan now, Cristine, before Zanjo’s sister fades away!”

Valeria’s form was already flickering, reverting back to the human Valerie.

“I command you, Fan of Archangel Gabriel! Return and save your Guardian!” I cried out.

Ricky stared in awe as the artifact soared through the air, landing perfectly in my hand.

“You truly are worthy,” Valeria whispered one last time before she collapsed, fully returning to being Valerie.

“Ate Val!” Zanjo rushed to her side, with Ricky and Rizah close behind.

“Don’t worry, Kuya. I can heal her,” Rizah said, placing her hands on Valerie’s forehead.

“Will she remember any of this?” I asked, but as the adrenaline faded, darkness edged into my vision.

“Tine!” Zanjo caught me just as I lost consciousness.

Meanwhile, in a high-end beauty clinic…

“Good morning, Dr. Lily. Your patient is ready,” the nurse assistant announced.

“Thank you, Amanda. Is everything prepared?” Dr. Lily asked.

“Yes, Doctor.”

As the nurse left, the doctor opened her drawer and pulled out a peculiar ring set with a massive emerald.

“I can feel it,” she murmured, staring at the jewel. “Our meeting is drawing near… Inspector Cristine.”

She placed the ring back and closed the drawer.

To be continued…

CHAPTER FOURTEEN - THE TRAITOR REVEALED

The Sacred Pen of Archangel Raphael (PART ONE)

Previously…  

Cristine successfully retrieved two of the Holy Weapons: the Sword of Archangel Michael and the Fan of Archangel Gabriel. Now, only one remains—the Pen of Archangel Raphael, currently held by an unsuspecting teacher.

The Story Continues…

“Okay, class, please submit your assignments. Also, where is Karen Jade Lopez?” asked Ms. Elvic Frondoza, the Grade 3 Orchid teacher.

“Maybe she’s absent, ma’am. She said she wasn’t feeling well yesterday,” one of the children replied.

“Oh, is that so? Poor child. I’ll stop by her house later to check on her. Anyway, open your English books,” the teacher said, beginning the day’s lesson.

Meanwhile, with Cristine’s group…

“You’re finally awake, Cristine. Come, sit down,” Sister Stella called out.

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I approached the group. Now that I was fully awake, I could clearly see their visitor. She introduced herself as Mary Gabriel, a messenger from the Sisters of Light Monastery.

“I am deeply concerned, Sister,” Mary said, her voice heavy. “Word has reached our monastery of a spy—someone currently working in the shadows to assist Lilith.”

“Child, where did this information come from?” Sister Stella asked, her brow furrowed. “Who would they even suspect of such a thing?”

“It is written in the Book of Light. That is why I have come—to test the Bellators who are with you,” Mary explained.

“Mary Gabriel, forgive me for interrupting,” I cut in, my voice dry. “But is it me? Am I the one they doubt? Aside from the fact that I carry the blood of that woman, Lilith…”

Mary spoke before I could finish. “Ate Cristine, we already know about your lineage. Please, just call me Gabby. To be honest, you aren’t the only one who will face the trial. All four of you must be tested.”

As Gabby reached out to touch my arm, her eyes suddenly rolled back, and she was gripped by a terrifying vision.

“Nooooo!” Gabby shrieked, her hand clamped tight onto my skin.

“Gabby, let go!” Sister Stella commanded. Rizah, Ricky, and Zanjo watched in stunned silence, unable to move.

When the girl finally released my hand, she was trembling.

“Ate Cristine…” Gabby gasped, reaching for a bottle of water. Her eyes darted suspiciously toward Rizah and Ricky. “I think I just saw who the Book was warning us about.”

“What is the meaning of this?” Zanjo demanded, his voice laced with confusion.

Gabby didn’t answer. Instead, she began to chant a prayer under her breath. A sudden, invisible force erupted from her, blasting Rizah and Zanjo backward. Only Ricky remained standing. He didn’t look bothered at all—instead, a slow, chilling smirk spread across his face.

“Hello,” Ricky said, his voice dropping into a sinister register. “I really thought you’d never figure it out.”

His eyes suddenly bled into a bottomless, ink-like black.

“Wait… Ricky, why?” Sister Stella gasped, her hand over her heart.

“You fools! I am not Ricky,” the entity sneered. “The original owner of this body is long gone. He’s nothing now! Bwahahahahaha!”

With a mocking laugh, “Ricky” began to levitate, his presence darkening the room.

“I’ll handle him!” I shouted, reaching for my weapon, but Gabby stepped in front of me, her hand firm on my shoulder.

“No, Ate! Not yet,” Gabby warned. “You need to cultivate your power. You must strengthen the light within you before you face him. Move aside!”

She pushed me back and called out a name that shook the very air:

“Gabriel!”

From Gabby’s body, a blinding silhouette of a man emerged, slowly solidifying into a physical form.

“Mary’s twin…” Sister Stella whispered in awe.

“Is that… Archangel Gabriel?” Rizah asked, shielding her eyes from the divine radiance.

“Not quite,” she murmured, squinting through the light.

“Punish this blasphemer!” Gabby commanded, pointing at the possessed Ricky.

The celestial figure accompanying Gabby slowly opened his eyes. Sensing the shift in power, the entity inside Ricky moved with lightning speed.

“This isn’t the last time we’ll meet,” Ricky hissed, his gaze fixed on Gabby. “I will have my revenge, woman!”

Before anyone could react, he hurled a sphere of dark energy toward me. A thick, obsidian smoke suddenly enveloped Ricky, and in a blink, he vanished. As he disappeared, the radiant figure beside Gabby faded away as well, and she collapsed heavily onto the floor.

“Good heavens! Help her!” Sister Stella cried out. Zanjo immediately rushed to Gabby’s side.

“Rizah, can you heal her?” Zanjo asked, his voice frantic.

“Yes, don’t worry,” Rizah replied. She knelt and placed her hands on both Cristine and Gabby, her palms glowing with a soft light. “I’m going to find some medicinal herbs to boost the healing. Zanjo, watch over them!”

“Don’t go out anymore, Sister Stella. I’ll be the one to gather the herbs from your garden,” Zanjo said, quickly heading out the door.

Meanwhile, on the other side of our story…

Teacher Elvic arrived at the home of her student as planned.

“Mrs. Lopez, how is Jade doing?” she asked the woman who met her at the door.

“Jade is doing fine. It’s a good thing you visited us, Elle—the Guardian of the Sacred Pen,” the woman said with a knowing smile.

“I… I don’t understand what you mean?” The teacher’s brow furrowed, confused by the woman’s strange words.

Suddenly, two identical children stepped out from behind the woman.

“Elle, you are the keeper of the Pen of Archangel Raphael. It is time to wake up!” Karen commanded. She reached out and touched Elvic’s forehead. The moment her fingers made contact, the teacher lost consciousness and began to levitate.

“We need to gather the others,” Valerie said, her expression serious. “The Chosen One is in grave danger.”

“I feel it too, Valeria,” Jade replied. “As soon as Elle fully awakens, we will go to Cristine. She must face the final trial, and Elle is the one who must deliver it.”

When Elle finally opened her eyes, she looked at the three figures standing before her with a dazed expression.

“Karen? Jade? Valerie? Why have you changed your forms?” she asked, her memories flooding back.

“The Chosen One has already fulfilled her role with us,” Valeria explained. “You are the final test. But we must hurry—I sense she is in peril.”

“Then let’s go!” Elle declared.

“What, are we going to use magic?” Karen asked.

“Does Valeria have a car? Maybe we can just drive there!” Jade suggested, looking hopeful.

Elle rolled her eyes. “Oh, for heaven’s sake… just hold onto me. You ‘witches’ haven’t changed a bit!”

Once her companions had gripped her arms, Elle pulled the silver pen from her pocket. With a swift, elegant motion, she drew a shimmering symbol in the air. A glowing portal erupted from the ink, swirling with energy.

A moment later, they stepped through—arriving right at the doorstep of Sister Stella’s house.

“Who are you?” Rizah asked, her voice defensive as she stood before the strangers.

“Don’t you recognize me anymore?” Valerie asked, shifting her form back into the sister Rizah knew. Beside her, Karen and Jade did the same, returning to their familiar appearances.

Rizah’s eyes widened, and she lowered her guard. “The Guardians… Please, forgive my insolence.”

“We understand,” Valerie said, her gaze shifting to the unconscious figures on the bed. “But why was Archangel Gabriel’s twin here? What on earth is happening?”

“So it’s true?” Rizah whispered. “That really was Archangel Gabriel earlier?”

“But how? And what happened to the two of them?” Elle asked, her teacher-like instincts taking over as she scanned the room for clues.

“Ricky was a spy,” Rizah explained, her voice trembling. “I was able to stabilize Gabby; she’ll regain consciousness soon. But Ate Cristine… I can’t heal her. Something is blocking my power.” Rizah placed her hand near Cristine’s forehead, sensing a cold, heavy energy.

“It’s a curse,” Elle noted, her eyes narrowing.

“A curse?” Sister Stella asked. She and Zanjo had just entered the room, carrying the medicinal herbs they had gathered from the garden.

“The curse of the demon Batibat ,” Elle explained. “It traps the victim in a deep, suffocating slumber. Right now, Cristine is lost in a nightmare. She has to find a way to wake up on her own—she has to realize that what she’s seeing isn’t real.”

“What can we do?” Zanjo asked, his face pale with worry.

“Only someone with Nephilim blood can enter Cristine’s dream world to pull her out,” Valerie said, looking around the room.

“You’re mistaken, Sister,” Karen interrupted. “We Guardians are just like you Bellators . We have our duties, but we are not Nephilim. We don’t have that power.”

“Only a Nephilim, or one who carries the blood of an angel, can make the journey,” Jade added solemnly.

Zanjo stepped closer to the bed and took Cristine’s limp hand in his. He squeezed it tight.

“Hey, Tine… wake up already! I’m sure whatever you’re dreaming about is ugly anyway,” Zanjo muttered, trying to keep his voice steady with a joke. “You heard them—they said you aren’t Sleeping Beauty, so my kiss isn’t going to wake you up. Come back to us!”

Jade shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Your brother is a real character, Valeria. Even at a time like this, he’s still a joker.”

To be continued…

CHAPTER FIFTEEN - THE TRAITOR REVEALED

The Sacred Pen of Archangel Raphael (PART TWO) 

Previously…  

Cristine has fallen into a cursed slumber. With the help of Mary Gabriel, the group exposed the spy in their midst. But what is the truth about Ricky—was he truly a traitor? And what role will Mary Gabriel play in Cristine’s journey? Now, as Cristine remains trapped, only the blood of a Nephilim can wake her. The three Guardians must find a way to save the Chosen One so she can finally claim the Sacred Pen.

The Story Continues…

“Is Cristine still asleep?” Sister Stella asked Zanjo.

“Yes,” Zanjo replied shortly, quickly finishing his cup of tea. Rizah approached him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I know you’re worried about her, Kuya, but we’ll find a way to wake her up. We just have to have faith!” Rizah said.

“Rizah is right. Your girlfriend is strong,” Valerie added. “Actually, there is a way. But it is incredibly complicated—and dangerous.”

“What is it, Ate?” Zanjo asked, his eyes sharp with hope.

“The final trial,” Elvic answered, walking into the living room with Jade.

“Exactly,” Jade agreed. “Elle can deliver the final trial within the dream world itself. However, it’s a massive gamble. If things go wrong, Cristine might never find her way out.”

“I don’t care how dangerous it is. I’m taking that bet!” Zanjo declared. The three Guardians exchanged a long, meaningful look.

Meanwhile, in a realm of absolute darkness, Ricky sat with his head bowed.

“You failed your mission,” a woman’s voice hissed from the shadows. “But no matter.”

“Then… will you let me go now?” Ricky asked, his voice trembling.

The woman slowly turned to face him, her eyes glowing with a sinister light.

“No. I know I can still use you when the right time comes. For now, return this Bellator to his cage!” she commanded.

“Lilith, no! Stop! You promised!” Ricky screamed as thick, black smoke began to coil around him like snakes, dragging him into the abyss.

“Promises are made to be broken,” Lilith said with a wicked grin. She stepped toward a massive, ornate mirror.

“The confrontation with my daughter draws near,” she murmured, watching the glass. “She cannot escape her fate. Her destiny lies here… in Hell.”

Her laughter echoed through the void, cold and triumphant.

Back to Cristine…

Cristine found herself standing in a familiar line, right back where she had first met Zanjo. They were waiting to enter a famous local eatery.

“Zanjo?” she whispered, looking at the man standing beside her.

“Wait, you know me?” Zanjo asked, looking genuinely surprised.

“Of course! This is the part where you squeeze calamansi onto the food inside, and we find out they’re serving human flesh because they’re all aswangs !” Cristine said urgently.

“Huh? What are you talking about? Aswangs ?” Zanjo let out a short laugh. “Are you okay?”

“Yes! You’re a Bellator , and so am I!” Cristine insisted.

“A Bellator ? Miss, you’re hilarious. I have no idea how you know my name. Maybe you’re one of my exes? Wait, let me guess your name…” Zanjo paused, thinking hard. “Agnes, right?”

Cristine shook her head vigorously.

“Georgia?” Zanjo tried again.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake! If you say ‘Emma’ next, we’re basically in a soap opera plot,” Cristine retorted, rolling her eyes. “Come on, let’s go inside. I’ll show you!” She grabbed his arm and dragged him into the restaurant.

“Whoa, easy! You pull hard for a girl,” Zanjo grumbled, stumbling after her.

Once they were seated, Cristine immediately ordered. When the food arrived, Zanjo’s eyes lit up with hunger, but Cristine slapped his hand away.

“Stop! Just watch,” she commanded. She took a piece of calamansi and squeezed the juice into the bowl. Within seconds, the “meat” began to squirm and transform.

“Ugh! What is that?!” Zanjo shouted, jumping back. The server approached their table, their face twisting into a snarl when they saw the bowl.

“We’re leaving. Now!” Cristine grabbed Zanjo’s hand and bolted for the exit. The elderly owner of the shop stood in their way, his eyes glowing with an eerie light.

“What are you doing here, Bellator ?” the old man growled.

“Not looking for trouble! Goodbye!” Cristine yelled, pushing past him.

They ran until they turned into a dark alleyway, only to find their path blocked.

“It’s a dead end!” Zanjo cried out. Behind them, the people from the restaurant began to shift, their limbs elongating and their teeth sharpening into jagged points.

“Then we fight!” Cristine declared. She ran her fingers through her hair in one swift motion. As she did, her strands shifted, turning a vibrant, fiery orange.

She raised her hand and summoned her weapon. “ Liksi! “

In a flash of light, her .45 caliber pistol materialized in her grip.

“Whoa! Amazing!” Zanjo cheered, his eyes wide.

“Don’t just say ‘wow,’ help me!” Cristine barked.

Zanjo scrambled around and picked up a stray piece of wood from the ground. “Ready!”

“Are you serious? Where’s your sword?” Cristine asked, baffled.

“I don’t have a sword! What is it with girls and high expectations?” Zanjo complained.

Before she could argue, the aswangs shrieked and lunged at them.

Meanwhile, back with Rizah and the others…

Because of Rizah’s ability to see through time, she became the bridge for Zanjo and Elle to enter Cristine’s dream.

“Are you ready?” Mary Gabriel asked. Rizah nodded solemnly. Mary gripped Cristine’s hand with one hand and placed the other on Rizah’s shoulder.

“I can feel it… hold onto me, now!” Rizah commanded, extending both her hands. Elle and Zanjo quickly grabbed hold.

A dizzying blur of colors and distorted landscapes rushed past them until they were suddenly standing in the middle of a dark alley. Ahead, they saw Cristine fighting off a horde of aswangs .

“That’s me!” Zanjo exclaimed, spotting his dream-self swinging a piece of wood alongside Cristine. “But why a stick? Don’t I have powers in here?”

“Hurry! You have to merge with your dream-self to help her,” Elle urged. “And remember—if Cristine dies here, she dies in the real world.” With a firm shove, she pushed Zanjo toward the fight.

He successfully phased into his dream-self. His posture changed instantly as he summoned his real weapon.

“Am I late, Tine?” Zanjo asked, gripping his sword.

“I thought you’d never use that! Look out!” Cristine shouted, shoving Zanjo aside. One of the creatures lunged, its claws raking across Cristine’s arm.

In the real world, Sister Stella, Jade, and Valerie gasped. A bloody scratch had manifested on Cristine’s actual arm.

“Tine, do you remember the three Sacred Weapons you need to collect?” Zanjo asked as they stood back-to-back.

“Yes. I have two of them right here… but I don’t understand why I’m back in this place,” she replied, parrying an attack.

“The Guardian of Archangel Raphael’s weapon is here,” Zanjo explained. “You have to pass her trial to break this curse and wake up!”

Suddenly, the world went still. Elvic appeared in the center of the alley, and time itself ground to a halt. The wind died, the animals froze, and the aswangs were locked in mid-lunge like statues.

“Cristine, there is no more time,” Elle said urgently. “You must wake up, or all three of us will be trapped here forever.”

“What do I have to do?” Cristine asked.

“You must solve my riddles. I will give you two,” Elvic declared. “If you answer them correctly, you will be free from this nightmare. You and Zanjo can work together, but you only have three chances.”

Outside the dream, Rizah and Mary Gabriel were beginning to grow pale, their strength draining rapidly.

“Elle, hurry!” Jade urged from the bedside.

“What is the first riddle?” Cristine asked, her voice steady.

Elvic stepped forward and recited the ancient lines:

“A marble stone of bone, wrapped in the art of grammar.”

The two of them racked their brains for the answer. Zanjo stepped forward, eager to end the suspense.

“Marbles?” he guessed.

“No. You have only two chances left,” Elvic warned. “Cristine? Do you have an answer?”

Elle traced the riddle in the air with glowing ink so Cristine could study it.

“ Marble stone? Bone? Grammar? “ Cristine whispered. She caught her reflection in a cracked mirror nearby. “Grammar means speech… I’ve got it!”

“What is your answer?” Elvic asked.

“Teeth!” Cristine explained confidently. “Teeth are like marble if you take care of them. They’re like bone, attached to our gums. And ‘grammar’ refers to how we speak or use our mouths. So, it’s teeth! I almost said ‘mouth,’ but teeth fit the ‘stone’ description better.”

“Is that your final answer?”

“Teeth!”

“Correct,” Elvic said. Suddenly, Zanjo vanished into thin air.

“Where did Zanjo go?” Cristine cried out, looking around the empty alley.

“Jade likely pulled him back to prevent him from being trapped here forever. It’s just you now, so hurry! Here is the final riddle:

‘It belongs to you, you carry it everywhere, yet others use it far more often than you do.’

What is the answer?“ Elvic asked.

Cristine scratched her head, pacing back and forth. “A knife?” she guessed.

“I’m sorry, but that is incorrect,” Elvic said solemnly. “You have only one chance left, Cristine. Think carefully!”

In the real world, Zanjo gasped as he woke up, helped back by Valerie.

“Ate! Why did you pull me out?” he demanded.

“Mary and Rizah are growing too weak,” Valerie replied. “This final part must be faced by the two of them alone.”

“No! I’m going back! I have to help her!” Zanjo reached for Rizah’s hand, but suddenly, thick vines erupted from the floor, coiling around him and pinning him back.

“Stop it!” Valerie commanded. “You can’t help her if you both end up trapped in the void!”

Back in the dream confrontation…

“It belongs to me? I carry it?” Cristine muttered to herself. “It’s not my… boobs, is it? No, that’s crazy. What do I own that other people use more than I do? This is so hard!”

As she struggled, a faint, ethereal whisper echoed in her mind. It was Rizah’s voice.

“ Ate… it’s a Name. Your name is yours, you carry it for life, but others are the ones who constantly call it or use it. The answer is ‘Name.’ “

Cristine’s eyes lit up. “The answer is a Name!”

Suddenly, the dream world shattered like glass. Cristine sat bolt upright in bed, gasping for air as if she had been underwater.

“Water! I need water!” she choked out. Jade rushed to her side with a glass.

“Well done, Cristine,” Elvic said, standing by her bed. “Since you answered my riddles, the Pen is yours.” She handed the sacred artifact to Cristine.

“Rizah helped me at the last second… is that allowed?” Cristine asked, still catching her breath.

“Yes,” Elvic smiled. “Because Rizah is your sister. Her strength is yours.”

“I’m so happy for you, Ate,” Rizah said with a tired but beautiful smile. “You finally have them all.”

To be continued…

CHAPTER SIXTEEN - CONTRACTS AND CONSEQUENCES

Lilith and Cristine

In this chapter, you will discover how I ended up in the convent and catch a glimpse of the true nature of Lilith.

“Whoa, that’s amazing!” I said to Mary, watching her nimble fingers fold a piece of paper into a delicate origami shape.

“Thanks, Ate. This is actually for you. I’m heading back to the convent tomorrow,” the young girl said with a warm smile.

As I stared at the origami, a memory suddenly flickered in my mind. It was a scene from when I was in the sixth grade.

Back then, I was busy making my own origami when a girl—the class bully—snatched it from my desk.

“Impressive,” she sneered. “But did you really think you could beat me for Valedictorian?” She began to tear my work into pieces, one by one.

I didn’t want any trouble, so I stood up to leave. But she grabbed my arm and forced me to face her.

“We need to talk. Didn’t I make myself clear the other day, Cristine?” she asked, arching a perfectly groomed eyebrow.

“Kelly, look… I don’t have feelings for Edward. We’ve just been friends since we were kids,” I explained calmly. “And as for the scholarship and being Valedictorian… I need those to get into college. You’re wealthy; you don’t need a scholarship. Please, I’m just asking for peace. I don’t want a fight.”

Instead of calming down, Kelly’s face twisted with rage. She slapped me hard across the face, sending me sprawling to the floor. My other classmates began to laugh, but my friends rushed to my side to help me up.

“What is wrong with you, Kelly? Leave Cristine alone!” my friend Victoria shouted.

In a flash of spite, Kelly pulled a ballpoint pen from her hair and lunged at Victoria. She stabbed her in the arm. It wasn’t deep, but blood immediately began to soak through Victoria’s sleeve.

“Aaaaaahhh!” Victoria screamed in pain.

I stood up slowly. A strange, cold fury washed over me—a darkness so heavy I could feel it in my bones.

“Hey, you little brat. Face me ,” I growled, spinning Kelly around.

Kelly stumbled back, her face turning pale with sudden terror. “Why… why are your eyes black? And your hair… it’s turning red!”

I stepped toward her, a predatory smirk playing on my lips. I raised my right hand, curling my fingers as if I were gripping someone’s throat. Suddenly, Kelly was hoisted into the air, gasping and clawing at her neck as if an invisible hand were strangling her.

“What you do to others shall be done to you,” I whispered.

I slammed her back down to the floor, then knelt beside her and gripped her arm.

“The wound you gave Victoria is now yours,” I declared. In an instant, a bloody puncture wound appeared on Kelly’s arm, identical to the one she had inflicted. At the same moment, Victoria gasped—the wound on her own arm had completely vanished, leaving only clear skin behind.

“What kind of monster are you?!” Kelly shrieked.

“I thought you and the Governor were so religious,” I mocked. “Why isn’t your God helping you now?” I let out a low laugh.

“Demon!” Kelly screamed.

“Maybe I am! But Satan says he’s already saved a seat for you in hell,” I retorted.

I was about to lift her into the air again, but the darkness suddenly overwhelmed me. My vision blurred, and everything went black as I collapsed onto the floor.

Through Rizah’s unique abilities, my mother and father were able to bring me to the church for help.

“Her soul must be purified,” the priest warned, his voice grave. “If we leave her as she is, her second persona—her darker half—will eventually take full control of her body.”

“In that case, I need Sister Stella’s help,” my mother decided. “She can bring Cristine into the convent where she can be protected and watched over.” My father nodded in silent agreement.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the story…

“How is the task I gave you progressing?” Lily asked, her eyes fixed on Ricky.

“Lily, I still haven’t located Cristine and the others,” Ricky replied. “It’s likely they are under Sister Stella’s protection.”

“Then kill her,” Lily said simply. “Your problem is easily solved.”

Ricky was about to protest when a woman interrupted them.

“Miss Lily, Mr. Thomson is here. He wishes to speak with you.”

“Very well. I’ll be there in a moment,” Lily said with a polished smile. She turned back to Ricky, her tone shifting to ice. “Going back to our business… find my daughter. They are already making their move. I won’t have my child caught in the crossfire of a war between angels and demons.”

“I will handle it, Madame,” Ricky answered, bowing low before her.

Lily smoothed her dress and headed to the receiving area.

“Hi, Mr. Thomson. I heard you needed something from me?” she asked. The man facing her was dressed in a formal suit, looking every bit the successful businessman.

“Yes… I want to ask for an extension on my contract,” the American said, his voice trembling. “I need to make sure my family will be okay before I… before I die!”

Lily offered a thin, mocking smile. “Mr. Thomson, you sold your soul to Hell in exchange for wealth. The contract was for ten years. According to my records, your time is up next year. Even without a contract with Hell, humans die; no one can truly predict the end. But I am so sorry—a contract is a contract.”

“No! This isn’t fair!” the man screamed.

“Which part, exactly?” Lily asked. Suddenly, her eyes bled into a void of pure black.

“Your contract!” he gasped, staggering back.

“If that’s how you feel, then instead of having one year left in this world… you can go see the Dark Lord right now,” she whispered.

With a simple snap of her fingers, the man dropped dead instantly.

“Amy, return this to the human realm. You know what to do,” Lily commanded as another woman appeared.

“Yes, Miss Lily,” Amy replied, efficiently moving to clear the body.

Lily returned to her office and sank into the velvet softness of her chair.

“You cannot escape who you truly are,” she murmured, her eyes fixed on a photograph on her desk. It was a picture of Cristine.

Back to the present…

“Take care, everyone. Don’t worry—I’ll take Sister Stella back to the convent where she’ll be safe,” Mary said.

“Thank you, Mary,” Zanjo replied. Mary offered a small, reassuring smile in return.

Cristine, however, remained silent, her gaze fixed on nothing as she drifted deep into her own thoughts. Mary noticed the shadow over her and stepped closer.

“Ate Cristine, the past is in the past. You can no longer change what has been done,” Mary said gently. “Just remember that everything happens for a reason, and only the Lord truly knows the path. You must remain steadfast. The war between the Nephilim, the demons, and the angels is drawing near. I hope… I hope you choose to stay in the Light.”

“I promise,” Cristine said, her voice soft but determined. She pulled Mary into a tight embrace. “You stay safe, too.”

“What about Ricky?” Rizah asked, her voice tinged with worry.

“I will ask for help from the Sisters of Light,” Mary promised. “Have faith. If you ever need me, you know where to find me.”

To be continued…

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - THE PRICE OF A VISION

The Sisters of Light

As our story continues…

Mary had returned to the monastery to report everything she had witnessed while she was with Cristine.

As she sat waiting, a sharp voice called out to her. Mary stood up instinctively, her posture stiffening.

“Have you accomplished what I asked of you?” asked a nun of high rank, her presence commanding and cold.

“Yes, Mother. I have convinced Cristine to side with us,” Mary replied, keeping her head low. “I also managed to drive away Lilith’s messenger.”

“Excellent. Cristine is the only key we have to fulfill the mission of our brothers, the angels,” Sister Mariela said, her hand clenching the silver cross hanging from her neck.

“But… will this not bring harm to the human race?” Mary asked, her voice trembling slightly.

“We have no choice. Besides, this is the will of the Lord. It is a divine decree!” Sister Mariela retorted.

“A decree to wipe out half of the world’s population?” Mary’s eyes widened with horror. “If they are swept away by the River of Sanctity, millions of innocent lives will be lost.”

“That is their destiny, Mary!” Sister Mariela snapped, her patience wearing thin. “Now, if you have nothing else to say… you are dismissed!”

The young nun let out a heavy sigh, her heart sinking. Without another word, she silently turned and left the room.

Back to Cristine…

While they were at the public market, Ricky watched them from a distance, hidden among the shadows of the crowd.

“Oh, that hair tie is so pretty,” Rizah remarked, pausing at a small stall.

“Do you want it?” Sister Stella asked with a motherly smile.

“Oh, no thank you, Sister. It’s embarrassing to ask. I’ll just ask Ate Cristine for one later,” Rizah replied shyly.

“Nonsense. Look at those two,” Sister Stella chuckled, pointing toward Cristine and Zanjo, who were bickering loudly in front of a fruit vendor. “They’re so cute together, even when they fight.”

“They really are,” Rizah agreed. When she turned back to Sister Stella, the older woman was already holding the hair tie.

“Here, I bought it for you. You remind me so much of myself when I was younger,” Sister Stella said softly.

As Rizah reached out to take the gift, her skin brushed against Sister Stella’s hand. In that instant, a jagged, terrifying vision flashed before her eyes.

“Child? Are you alright? What did you see?” Sister Stella asked, noticing Rizah had gone pale.

“Sister Stella…” Rizah stammered, her voice trembling as she looked into the nun’s gentle, kind face.

“What is it, dear?”

“Sister, we have to go home. Now. I saw something… something horrific happening to you. While there’s still time, we have to leave—” Rizah gripped the nun’s hand again, but the image in her mind shifted. For a split second, the nun’s face morphed into Ricky’s.

Rizah let out a piercing scream. The sound echoed through the marketplace, drawing the eyes of every shopper and vendor.

Zanjo and Cristine came running immediately.

“Rizah, what’s happening?” Cristine asked, her face etched with worry.

“She saw a vision… a vision of my death,” Sister Stella answered calmly. Sensing immediate danger, Zanjo quickly cast an invisible barrier around the four of them.

“Who?” Cristine demanded. “Who would kill her?”

“Ricky…” Rizah whispered.

Sister Stella sighed, a look of grim realization crossing her face. “If that is the case, then it is time you knew the truth about the Sisters of Light —and why Sister Maricar and I chose to live outside the convent.”

“The truth is—” Sister Stella began, but she never finished her sentence.

Out of the crowd, a man lunged forward. With terrifying speed, he drove a long knife deep into Sister Stella’s back.

“Sister Stellaaaa!” Rizah screamed.

Zanjo bolted after the assailant, disappearing into the maze of stalls, leaving Cristine and Rizah to catch the falling nun.

“Hold on! Sister, just hold on!” Cristine cried. She reached for the sacred book Mary had left with her, hoping to find a healing rite, but Sister Stella’s weak hand stopped her.

“Help! Someone call an ambulance!” Rizah shouted at the crowd.

But no one moved to help. Instead, the onlookers pulled out their phones, angling for the best shot, recording the tragedy as if it were a street performance.

“Seriously?! You’re filming this? This is an emergency!” Rizah screamed at them, her voice cracking with fury.

“I knew this was coming,” Sister Stella whispered, her breath hitching. “Cristine, listen to me… do not use your magic in front of all these people. Keep your secret. You must listen!”

“But Sister…” Cristine’s eyes filled with tears.

“There is no more time… The blade used by that man was no ordinary steel,” Sister Stella gasped, her voice growing faint. “It was a dagger of silver and gold—the only weapon capable of slaying a Sister of Light. I already felt Maricar’s end; I sensed her grace as a Nephilim fading into nothing.”

“Rizah, follow Zanjo! He’s in danger,” Cristine commanded. “Don’t fight them. Just retreat!”

Rizah didn’t hesitate, bolting in the direction Zanjo had gone.

“Cristine, listen,” Sister Stella continued, wincing in agony. “Maricar and I… we severed our ties with the Sisters of Light. We could not stomach their true goals. There is a prophecy, child. It says the daughter of Lilith is the only one who can unlock the gates of Hell and open the River of Sanctity.”

Cristine knelt beside her, hanging onto every word.

“If the gates of Hell are opened, humanity will be in grave peril. But if you release the angels trapped within the River of Sanctity—the ones Lucifer once convinced to rebel—everything changes. Those angels aren’t truly evil; they were merely misled. But if they are freed, they will cleanse this world by slaughtering half of its population. You, Cristine… you are the only one who can choose your own path and put an end to both prophecies.”

She reached out, her hand trembling. “I knew long ago that Ricky did not come from the Light. I had hoped he would never return to your mother’s side, but the Nephilim and the disciples of Satan are already making their move. Cristine, always remember what Sister Maricar taught you. Choose what is right.”

“I will, Sister. I promise,” Cristine sobbed. “Just hold on. An ambulance is coming!”

In the distance, sirens wailed. Some of the onlookers had finally called for help. The medics arrived quickly and loaded Sister Stella onto the gurney, but as the doors were about to close, her breath hitched one last time. She looked at Cristine with a final, peaceful smile.

“Follow your heart. Maricar and I… we will always be with you.”

“Sister Stellaaaaa!” Rizah wailed, clutching the hair tie the nun had just bought for her.

Zanjo returned, his face grim. He pulled Cristine into a tight embrace.

“Jo… Sister Stella is gone,” Cristine whispered, burying her face in his chest. Zanjo remained silent, his jaw clenched as he fought back his own tears.

Meanwhile, at the Sisters of Light Monastery…

“They were slaughtered by the enemy because they chose to live as mere humans,” Sister Mariela remarked coldly.

“That’s madness!” Mary snapped.

Sister Mariela’s eyes narrowed. “I beg your pardon? Did you just call me mad?”

“Your goals are inhumane,” Mary retorted, her voice shaking with indignation.

“It seems we have another one following in the footsteps of Maricar and Stella,” Sister Mariela mused.

Mary didn’t bother responding. She turned on her heel and stormed out of the room.

“Foolish girl,” Mariela muttered to herself, slamming her Bible shut. “She has no idea that the Lord’s cleansing of this world is at hand. If she chooses to follow the path of those two fallen sisters, I will not stand in her way.”

To be continued…

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - THE DEMON IN THE HABIT

The Confrontation: PART ONE

As our story continues…

Sister Stella has passed on, leaving the group in mourning. Meanwhile, Mary is left in a state of confusion, unable to reconcile her conscience with the dark plans of the monastery.

The Sequel…

Zanjo woke Cristine. Standing beside him were Rizah and Gabriel.

“What happened?” Cristine asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She blinked, startled to see a familiar face. “Ga—Gabriel? Where is Mary, your twin?”

Before anyone could answer, Ricky entered the room. His voice was grim. “Cristine, we need you.”

“What is this traitor doing here?” Cristine’s voice dripped with venom.

In a flash of fury, she ran her hand through her hair—instantly, it shifted to a vibrant, fiery orange. She summoned her weapon, Liksi , pointing the barrel directly at Ricky.

“Tine! Calm down!” Zanjo shouted, stepping between them. “Ricky didn’t come here to fight.”

“Zanjo is right,” Ricky added calmly. “There is someone who wants to meet you.”

From behind Ricky, a woman stepped into the light. Her hair was a deep, blood-red, and she was dressed in clothes that looked incredibly expensive and regal. She carried an air of terrifying authority.

“Who are you?” Cristine demanded, her finger tightening on the trigger.

“I am Lilith,” the woman replied, her eyes locked onto Cristine’s. “I am your mother.”

Shock and rage collided within Cristine. She quickly discarded the gun and summoned the Sword of the Archangel given to her by Jade. She began to chant, calling upon its holy power.

“Sword of the Archangel, I summon your virtue! Ignite the blade and—”

Cristine’s prayer was cut short as Jade suddenly appeared and grabbed her wrist.

“I will not allow you to use the sword I protect to fuel your hatred!” Jade declared firmly. With a shimmer of light, the great sword shrunk back into its dormant form—a simple earring.

Cristine looked around at her friends, her chest heaving with frustration. “Are you all just going to stand there and do nothing?”

“Tine, didn’t I tell you to stay calm?” Zanjo explained, stepping toward her. “They aren’t here to start a fight. They’ve come to ask for your help!”

Cristine took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart. “Fine. Then start talking, woman!” she snapped at Lilith.

“We’ll go first,” Gabriel interrupted. “My twin, Mary, is currently at the convent. She’s locked in a heated debate with the Mother Superiors. She is the only one standing against their plan to use you to drain the River of Sanctity . If that river runs dry, the angels imprisoned there will be unleashed. They will fulfill their ancient decree: to ‘cleanse’ the world by wiping out half of the human population.”

“I remember Sister Stella and Maricar mentioning that,” Cristine said, her voice softening. “That’s why they abandoned the Sisters of Light.”

“And that’s why my parents tasked us with watching over you, Ate,” Rizah added.

“It’s also why Rizah’s parents asked for my help,” Zanjo said. “To guard you… and to prepare you.”

Cristine turned her gaze toward the woman in red. “And you? What is your stake in this?”

Lilith’s expression remained regal and cold. “It’s simple. We cannot allow Satan to return from the abyss. If he is freed, every demon in Hell follows. Believe it or not, I would much rather see you stay with the Nephilim than see the world consumed by him. That is why I am here.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry,” Cristine said, her hair finally fading back to its natural color. “I won’t obey the Sisters of Light.”

“It isn’t that simple, Cristine,” Ilvic warned. “The weapons we gave you are sacred, but in the wrong hands—or with the wrong intent—they can be used for absolute evil.”

“First, the Sword ,” Jade explained. “It has the power to act as the key to Hell. Its flames are hot enough to boil away entire seas and rivers.”

“My Pen ,” Valerie added, “can draw portals that bridge the gap between realms. It can be used as a gateway for the trapped angels to invade the human world.”

“And finally, my Fan ,” Ilvic concluded. “If used for malice, it can strip the very breath from every living soul in its path.”

Cristine looked at the three weapons—now seemingly heavier with responsibility. “Then what am I supposed to do?”

“That’s easy—” Lilith began, but she was cut short.

The ground suddenly groaned and buckled. A violent tremor shook the building. Outside, the air grew cold and heavy with a suffocating “holy” energy.

“I know the Chosen One is in there!” Sister Mariela’s voice boomed from outside, laced with divine fury. “Come out!”

Through the window, they saw the Sisters of Light gathered in a formation, their faces grim. And in the center, bound and bruised, was Mary.

Jade, Valerie, and Ilvic were the first to step out, blocking the path of the approaching nuns.

“We’ll handle this. Get Cristine to safety!” Jade commanded.

“It’s too dangerous for you here, Lilith. You and Ricky need to disappear—now!” Ilvic added.

In a shimmer of dark mist, Lilith and Ricky vanished. Meanwhile, Rizah and Zanjo grabbed Cristine, pulling her away from the looming confrontation.

“I know you’re in shock, Ate, and honestly, I’m losing my mind too,” Rizah said, her hands moving in a series of frantic gestures. “But we have to move before we all get ‘deleted’!”

Outside, the three Guardians stood their ground against Sister Mariela, who still held a battered Mary captive.

“Bring out the daughter of Lilith!” Sister Mariela shrieked.

“Mariela, you’ve lost your mind,” Valerie countered. “Go home. What you’re looking for isn’t here. And you actually brought an audience with you?”

“Me? Lost my mind?” Mariela laughed, her voice cracking. “Valerie, you’re the one who chose to side with the darkness!”

“Oh, this woman is definitely delusional!” Ilvic muttered.

“Who’s delusional?!” Mariela screamed. She raised her hand, summoning a massive bolt of lightning that tore through the sky toward the three Guardians. They dove out of the way just in time.

“Now, which of us is the crazy one?” Mariela cackled, her eyes gleaming with a strange, frantic light.

“Sisters! Don’t listen to her!” Mary shouted to the other nuns. “Your Mother Superior has gone mad!”

But the other nuns seemed deaf to her pleas. They stood like statues, their weapons gripped tightly. The two nuns holding Mary only tightened their grasp, bruising her arms.

“Gabriel! Save Cristine no matter what!” Mary screamed. A glowing white butterfly emerged from her back, fluttering rapidly into the distance.

As the Guardians stayed busy dodging Mariela’s relentless attacks, a memory suddenly clicked in Cristine’s head.

“Wait! Sister Maricar said she had a secret to reveal about their Mother Superior,” Cristine said, stopping in her tracks.

“You really chose now to gossip, Tine? This is a ‘Marites’ moment we don’t have time for!” Zanjo hissed.

Suddenly, a disembodied voice echoed in the air around them.

“Long ago, when the gates of Hell were opened and the demons escaped, the world thought they were all recaptured. But one remained… a demon with the power to wear the faces of the holy.”

“Samael!” Rizah gasped, her eyes widening. “That’s why Sister Mariela felt so wrong!”

“You know of him?” Cristine asked.

“Ricky mentioned him. And when I touched her hand before… all I could see was an endless sea of fire!” Rizah explained.

“Then our ‘Aunties’ are in trouble!” Cristine cried, referring to the Guardians. “They don’t have the weapons—I do! We have to go back!”

“Are you insane?” Zanjo barked.

“If you’re too scared, then fine! I’ll do it myself. Baboo! “ Cristine snapped. Before Zanjo could grab her, she vanished in a flash of light.

Just then, Gabriel arrived on the scene. “Where is Cristine?!”

“She went back!” Zanjo groaned.

“Why did you let her go? Her life is in grave danger now that we know who Sister Mariela really is!” Gabriel shouted.

To be continued…

CHAPTER NINETEEN - THE DEMON IN THE HABIT

The Confrontation: PART TWO

Continuing our story…

Cristine dove into the fray, successfully parrying the magical strikes Sister Mariela had unleashed against Ilvic, Valerie, and Jade.

“You’ve finally learned how to use my shield. Impressive… but why on earth did you come back?” Ilvic asked, breathless.

“I couldn’t exactly leave you all behind. I’m the one they’re after,” Cristine replied. She quickly traced a symbol in the air with her finger and shouted, “ Transfera! “

“You stubborn child!” were the last words Ilvic managed to say before the three Guardians vanished, teleported to safety.

Cristine turned her full attention to Sister Mariela.

“Let Mary go,” Cristine commanded. “I’m the one you want, right?”

“You are correct, Chosen One. But first, drop your weapons,” Sister Mariela replied, her hand tightening around Mary’s throat.

“Ate Cristine, no! Don’t listen to her!” Mary screamed. “One life is a small price to pay for the millions you can save. Choose the many over the one!”

Sister Mariela brutally yanked Mary’s hair, silencing her. “You talk too much! Quiet!”

Cristine slowly lowered her guard and placed her weapons on the ground.

“As you wish. I’m unarmed. Even the Kabilan my father left me is right there. It’s all yours,” Cristine said, her voice hollow.

“Excellent. Gabriel, take those weapons and get out of here with your twin!” Sister Mariela ordered. She shoved Mary toward Gabriel. Gabriel caught his sister, but as he moved to take the weapons, Mariela lunged forward, pushing them both aside.

“Seize Cristine!” Sister Mariela commanded her loyal nuns. “We are going to the River Euphrates. We have allies there waiting to be unleashed!”

Gabriel and Mary could only watch in horror as the rogue nuns dragged Cristine away.

Zanjo arrived moments later, his chest heaving, but he was too late. Cristine was gone.

“Tine! Where are you?!” He spun around, searching the empty street, but there was no trace of her. Mary and Gabriel approached him, their faces grim.

“There’s still a way,” Mary said softly. “Cristine didn’t truly surrender the weapon of fire—the one guarded by Jade. Those left-behind weapons can still track her.”

“But how?” Gabriel asked. “Guides like us can’t enter the portal to the River Euphrates.”

“Not us,” Mary corrected, looking at Zanjo. “But he can.”

Just then, Rizah and Ricky emerged from the shadows.

“Good, you’re here,” Mary said, her eyes alight with a new plan. “I need both of you.”

“The Bellators of Light and Twilight,” Gabriel added, acknowledging their arrival.

Meanwhile, in Lilith’s Stronghold…

“Dark Lord… to what do I owe the honor of your visit?” Lilith stammered, her voice trembling.

“I have come to see how your daughter is progressing,” the man replied. He was draped in a heavy black robe that seemed to swallow the light around him.

“She is… she is doing well. Ricky is currently training her,” Lilith answered, keeping her eyes fixed on the floor, unable to meet the man’s terrifying gaze.

“Liar!” the man in black spat. “Your daughter is already at the River Euphrates, held captive by a false servant of the Light.”

Lilith’s fear momentarily turned to defiance. “I will not let you use my child for your evil! You already took Adam from me—you’ll have to kill me first before you lay a finger on Cristine!” As she spoke, her hair flared into a violent, blood-red hue.

“Do not fret,” the Dark Lord said calmly. “The denizens of the Abyss will not interfere in this little skirmish. But when the appointed time comes, there is nothing you can do to stop me from using Cristine for my own ends.”

“Are you not even slightly afraid?” Lilith pressed. “If those imprisoned angels are released from the river, they will cleanse the mortals first—and then they will come for us in the Underworld next!”

“I am not concerned,” the Dark Lord replied with a cold, hollow chuckle. “When that day comes, my disciples will be ready to clip their wings like common birds!”

His laughter boomed through the chamber, dark and triumphant, before he vanished into thin air, leaving Lilith alone in the silence.

Meanwhile, at the River Euphrates…

“So, this is the River Euphrates?” Cristine asked, looking at the shimmering, ancient waters.

“Yes. And it is here that your blood will serve as the key,” Sister Mariela replied coldly. “With it, our brothers and sisters will finally be free.”

“You mean the angels who joined Lucifer in the rebellion?” Cristine challenged.

“Precisely. I was one of them,” Mariela admitted. “The angels with truly blackened hearts were cast into the Abyss. Others, who merely joined the uprising, were exiled to Earth and became different beings—the Engkantos . As for the rest… their fates vary.”

“And you? Who are you supposed to be in all this?”

“Like you, I am a Nephilim,” Mariela smirked. “Born of both Light and Twilight.”

“Sister, the hour is upon us. Everything is prepared,” a nun interrupted, standing beside Mariela.

Cristine snapped her head toward the nun. “Wow, thanks for ruining the moment. We were actually talking! Are you in that much of a hurry? Talk about a total buzzkill!”

“Lay her on the great stone,” Mariela commanded, ignoring her. “Begin the incantation.”

Cristine tried to fight back, but a sudden, overwhelming weakness washed over her. The nuns quickly bound her hands and feet to the cold stone altar. They began a low, rhythmic chant, waiting for the precise astronomical moment to draw her blood.

Just as Mariela raised the ritual blade, a massive bolt of lightning tore through the sky, striking the ground near the altar.

“Let her go!” a voice boomed. Standing there was a man clad in the sacred gear Cristine had left behind.

Cristine squinted at the figure. “Zanjo? Is that you, ‘Da’? What’s with all the gold and ‘bling-bling’? You look like Eminem!” she joked, despite the situation.

“Hello, Ate Cristine…” a tiny voice squeaked. A white butterfly and a glowing firefly fluttered toward her.

“Ricky? Rizah?”

“This was the only form we could take to slip through the portal,” Rizah explained. “But wait… how are we supposed to get back?”

Ricky’s firefly light flickered in annoyance. “I have no idea.”

“Sisters! Destroy that Bellator!” Mariela screamed. The rogue nuns lunged at Zanjo.

While Zanjo held them off, Rizah and Ricky shifted back into their human forms to untie Cristine. But the moment Rizah touched her sister, a terrifying premonition seized her.

She saw Cristine being wounded in the battle. Just one drop of her blood touched the earth, and the river dried up instantly, releasing an army of vengeful angels.

Rizah snapped back to reality, gasping for air.

“Rizah, what is it?” Ricky asked urgently.

“We have to get Ate Cristine out of here now! We cannot let even a single drop of her blood touch the ground!” Rizah cried.

Nearby, Zanjo was beginning to falter. The sheer number of opponents was overwhelming.

“You Bellators are fools to think you can match a Nephilim!” Mariela mocked. “Those weapons do not even belong to you!”

“I don’t care!” Zanjo snarled. He moved to strike with the Kabilan , but his knees suddenly buckled.

He looked down to see a poisoned arrow protruding from his shoulder. The venom, distilled from a demonic serpent, began to course through his veins.

“Your life is measured in seconds now, interloper!” Mariela sneered, delivering a brutal blow that sent him reeling.

Meanwhile, at Ilvic’s House…

Mary, Gabriel, and Lilith watched the battle through a magical scrying pool alongside the Guardians.

“Cristine is in grave danger!” Jade shouted.

“And Zanjo is fading,” Valerie added.

“Mary! Gabriel! Send me in there!” Lilith demanded, her eyes glowing with desperate rage.

“We can’t, Lilith,” Gabriel said, his voice heavy. “It would shatter the balance of time and space. Only those who have already crossed—like Zanjo—can remain there.”

“Not even we can interfere,” Ilvic added sadly.

“You have to trust your daughter,” Jade whispered.

To be continued…

CHAPTER TWENTY - END AND START OF BELLATORS

The True Problem

The story continues…

Zanjo, Ricky, and Rizah successfully infiltrated the River Euphrates, where the rogue nuns held Cristine captive.

“Get Ate Cristine out of here!” Rizah screamed over the chaos. Ricky and Zanjo nodded, but Ricky hesitated.

“What about you?” he asked.

“Don’t worry about me! Just make sure not a single drop of her blood touches this ground,” Rizah urged, her voice trembling with the weight of her visions. “If you fail, everything Sister Stella sacrificed will be for nothing!”

“You think you can just leave?” Sister Mariela’s voice cut through the air like a blade. “You think escaping my barrier is that simple? You are dead wrong!” She began to mutter an ancient, rhythmic prayer.

Meanwhile, Cristine had been put into a deep slumber using a magical perfume Mary had entrusted to Zanjo.

“Make sure she stays asleep,” Mary had warned him before they left. “She must not use her power within the Euphrates, or the consequences will be dire.”

Ricky focused his energy and tore open a portal, gesturing wildly. “Rizah, go! Take Zanjo and Cristine and get out of here!” he commanded. “I’ll stay behind and hold them off!”

But in the split second before they could jump, they didn’t notice a nun creeping through the shadows. With a swift, jagged motion, she slashed Cristine’s wrist.

The sharp pain jolted Cristine awake. “I was having a perfectly good nap! What is wrong with you people?!” she snapped, clutching her bleeding wrist.

“We’re too late…” Ricky whispered, his face pale.

Rizah’s eyes rolled back as a new vision seized her. In her mind’s eye, she saw the prisoners of the Euphrates breaking their chains, followed by a cataclysm that swallowed the world. She looked down, horrified, as a thick drop of Cristine’s blood fell from her wrist and soaked into the parched earth.

Zanjo scrambled toward her, tearing off a piece of his clothing to wrap the wound. But as he reached for her hand, the gash vanished, healing instantly.

He looked up at Cristine and froze. Her hair had flared into a violent, blood-red hue, and a dark, chilling smile played on her lips.

“Da?” Zanjo whispered, sensing the shift in her aura.

“Move,” she said, her voice sounding like a chorus of echoes. She stepped past him to face Sister Mariela.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” Cristine asked, her voice dripping with cold irony. “To set the prisoners of this river free? Well… far be it from me to disappoint you!”

As she raised her hands and began a slow, sweeping motion, the air grew unnervingly hot. Before their very eyes, the mighty River Euphrates began to recede, its waters evaporating into a thick mist. Every plant and tree surrounding the banks withered and turned to ash in seconds.

The seal was broken.

Meanwhile, outside the portal where Lilith and the others waited…

“This cannot be happening!” Mary cried out as the earth began to shudder with a violent force. The sky turned an ominous, bruised black. Before their eyes, the lush trees began to rot from the inside out, and the vibrant flowers withered into dust.

“Jade, what do we do?” Elvic shouted over the roaring wind.

“If only Valerie were here!” Jade lamented, her voice tight with desperation.

“My daughter has fulfilled her ‘mission’ for you,” Lilith said coldly, her eyes reflecting the dying world. “I am no longer needed here!” Without another word, she vanished into a swirl of crimson mist.

“Lilith, wait!” Gabriel shouted, reaching out, but she was gone. He turned back to the others, his face grim.

“I know how to stop this… at least temporarily,” Mary said, her voice suddenly calm and steady.

“How?” Elvic asked.

Jade looked at Mary, realization dawning on her face. “I think I know what you’re implying.”

“Then there is no other way,” Gabriel declared. He stepped toward Mary and placed a hand on her shoulder; in a flash of light, his spirit merged into his twin sister, their powers becoming one.

Jade reached into her satchel and pulled out a single, glowing Seed —the last remnant of Valerie’s earth-shaping power.

“I’m ready,” Elvic whispered, bracing himself.

The three of them—Mary (carrying Gabriel), Jade, and Elvic—formed a circle, joining hands around the glowing seed. They closed their eyes as the world crumbled around them.

“Save the essence of nature; our lives are the price for this impending ruin. Hear our voices!”

they chanted in unison.

Their bodies began to glow with an intense, ethereal light until they transformed into pure energy, flowing directly into the seed. The seed sank deep into the cracked earth. Within seconds, a massive, majestic tree erupted from the ground, its roots anchoring the shifting soil.

Slowly, the darkness receded. The surrounding forest began to breathe again, the leaves turning green once more. The tremors ceased, and silence returned to the land—a silence bought with the lives of the Guardians.

Back at the River Euphrates…

“They’ve escaped…” Cristine said, a dark, triumphant smile crossing her face.

“Thank you, Chosen One!” Sister Mariela cried, falling to her knees in worship.

“Thank you? Nothing in this world is free, Sister. There’s always a price to pay,” Cristine countered, her eyes flashing with a cold, terrifying light.

“What do you mean?” Mariela asked, her voice trembling.

“Stop her, Kuya Jo!” Rizah screamed. Zanjo lunged forward to intervene, but Cristine didn’t even turn around.

“Stay!” she commanded, snapping her fingers. Massive, gnarled roots erupted from the dry riverbed, coiling like serpents around Zanjo, Rizah, and Ricky.

“Ate, no! Stop!” Rizah wailed, but the roots tightened, covering her mouth to silence her pleas.

“Now, where were we?” Cristine turned back to the Mother Superior. “Ah, yes. Payment. You wanted a miracle, and I gave you one. Now, I want my reward.”

“What is it you desire? Gold?” Mariela asked desperately. “We have hoards of it at the convent. It’s all yours!”

“No… I want something as precious as the lives I just unleashed.” Cristine tilted her head, thinking for a moment. Suddenly, she raised her hand, and the rogue nuns standing behind Mariela were hoisted into the air by an unseen force.

“I want lives!” Cristine declared. One by one, she drained the life force from the nuns, their bodies turning to ash before they could even scream. Mariela watched in horror as her followers were erased.

“You… you are a demon!” Mariela shrieked.

“I’m not the villain here—you are,” Cristine hissed. With another wave of her hand, Mariela was lifted high into the air.

Unbeknownst to Cristine, Ricky had managed to shift into the form of a bird, slipping through the crushing roots to free Zanjo and Rizah while Cristine was distracted by her prey.

“Thank you, Ricky!” Rizah whispered. “But how do we stop her? She’s losing herself!”

Zanjo’s eyes fell upon Cristine’s weapon, Liksi . He remembered the first time she had saved him from the aswangs . “The color orange…” he muttered.

“What? What does orange have to do with anything?” Ricky asked.

“Just trust me!” Zanjo grabbed Liksi, which was currently in the form of a golden arrow. “Liksi, please… remind her. Remind her of the first time we met.”

He released the weapon, and instead of flying straight, Liksi transformed into a glowing orange butterfly. It fluttered through the chaos and landed softly on Cristine’s shoulder just as she was about to deliver the killing blow to Mariela.

In an instant, a flood of memories rushed back to Cristine—her humanity, her friends, and her true purpose. Her hair shifted from the violent blood-red to a soft, vibrant orange.

She dropped Mariela, who stared at her in awe. “A Nephilim… she truly is a Nephilim!”

“Yes. Just like you,” Cristine said, her voice now steady and clear. “But you must answer for your crimes. Liksi! Arrow of Judgment! Deliver the sentence!”

The butterfly transformed back into a bow and arrow in Cristine’s hands. She loosed the shot, and the arrow pierced through Mariela’s chest. Instead of blood, white light poured from the wound, and Sister Mariela vanished into a different realm of existence.

“Where did she go?” Ricky asked, breathless.

“She has gone to face her punishment,” Cristine said softly. Her hair faded back to its natural black, and her strength finally gave out. Zanjo caught her just before she hit the ground.

“Let’s go home,” Zanjo whispered.

Ten Years Later…

A decade had passed since the battle at the Euphrates. The world had changed.

Cristine stood by the Great Tree—the living monument formed by the souls of Mary, Gabriel, Elvic, and Jade. She held Zanjo’s hand, looking up at the lush green canopy.

“I promise to do everything in my power to keep this world safe,” Cristine whispered to the wind.

Suddenly, a cold, sharp gust of wind swept through the clearing, carrying a whisper that made the hair on her neck stand up.

“Tine? Are you okay?” Zanjo asked, noticing her grip tighten.

“The war isn’t over, Jo,” Cristine replied, her eyes narrowing. “It’s only just beginning.”

Meanwhile, at the ruins of the old convent, Rizah and Ricky had established an academy for a new generation of Bellators .

As Ricky was busy training students in the courtyard, Rizah spotted a familiar figure walking down a hallway.

“Mary? Is that you?” Rizah called out. She ran after the woman, heart pounding. When she finally caught up and reached out to touch her shoulder, a jagged vision exploded in her mind.

“No… it can’t be! NO!”

Rizah’s scream echoed through the halls of the academy, chilling everyone to the bone.

“If you thought this was the end… you were wrong.”

Lilith’s voice boomed through the atmosphere, a dark promise of the chaos yet to come.