Rarely did the Slayer ever experience deja vu, as nearly every event in his life was unique, with very few ever coming close to being similar. However, that changed the moment he sat down beside Helsa Von Eldritch and Stella, all three of them returning to her family home to discuss the business they had with him. He thought back to when he first arrived in Lucifer's circle, how the devil assembled his advisors and staff to try and bargain with him; it was honestly weird to imagine he'd ever kill him, which showed how much had changed since then. But while this setting did remind him of that moment from his past, there were a lot of differences, such as how their table was regular and round, they were all sitting in the garden of the Eldritch estate, and they were having both tea and snacks as if this were just another get together for them.
"Are you sure you don't want anything?" Helsa asked as she held her cup, "No matter what your tastes might be, I'm very confident our kitchen has it; any delicacy or niche preference that exists is well stocked." She assured.
"I just want to get this over with..." He answered. "Oh? Are you uncomfortable?" Stella inquired.
"No, but I don't think what you have to say to me is important..." He replied, being fully transparent with them.
"Hm, I can see how you'd think that given how much time you've spent with Charlotte and company." Helsa said while taking a sip of her tea, "It also makes sense given everything you've been through, which we've been able to learn thanks to that very informative documentary." She explained.
"Why do you hate Charlie so much?..." He asked while turning his head to look at her specifically, "You've done nothing but belittle or insult her...did she do something to you?..." He added.
"I wouldn't say I hate her, at least not in the I want her dead or I want to see her suffer sort of way." She answered while setting her cup down on its platter, "She and I just...have different views and opinions on pretty much everything; I'm a realist who sees how things actually are and as such use my intelligence to always be one step ahead, whereas she's a truly hopeless optimist who thinks that everyone, INCLUDING the lowest of the low like serial killers or child molesters, has some good to them and can be helped to be better, which is total bullshit." She explained as a smile came to her face, " And it is for that reason why I've asked you to sit with us today." She admitted.
"From how it sounds, it seems like you want me to stop helping her and help you...or maybe even betray her and the others in some way...and if that's the case..." He stopped mid-sentence so he could lean over the table to get closer to her, " You and I have a serious problem..." He told her in a low unsettling tone.
However, unlike before in Slayer Studios, she showed no signs of fear; if anything, she looked at him slightly hurt by what he was implying.
"Will, when you look at me, do you see someone who is either a fool or an idiot?" She asked while putting a hand to her chest, "Because if so, then I must've given you the wrong impression of myself at some point, for that I apologize." She said.
"...No..." He answered before sitting back down in his chair, "I've seen stupid people
before...usually an immediate sign is that they bite off more than they can chew, so they end up screwing themselves...but one look at you and I can tell you're a calculated psychopath...you're naturally intelligent and can impressively gauge a person's emotional responses to specific situations or statements...I know you're not trying to use me as a pawn in some elaborate scheme, but the gears in your head are turning. I'm just trying to figure out what will happen once they stop..." He told her.
Watching her expression change yet again, he was admittedly surprised to see that she was flattered by what he said.
"Strong, intimidating, and charming? I'm baffled at how there isn't a misses or mister Slayer yet." She replied with a big ear-to-ear smile.
"Most people don't find the term psychopath to be a compliment..." He pointed out, causing her to laugh.
"True, but most people weren't born and raised in literal Hell either." She countered, "But we're getting off-topic, so let's do away with the casual conversation for now and just get right to it." She said, becoming serious, "You were right. The gears and cogs that make my mind what it is have been turning ever since we learned you returned because I think that you as a PARTNER can help us get Hell back on track." She said.
"I shoot, punch, and rip and tear demons apart with my bare hands...I'm not interested nor suited for politics which is clearly what this is all about..." He responded.
"Oh, I know, I wouldn't ever dream of having you stand at a podium to give some overly prepared speech or model for ad campaigns, I do those kinds of things myself, and I enjoy it immensely." She assured, "However, while you don't have any political presence or involvement, you still have an insane amount of sway and influence with our people; if you tell them to get on their hands and knees to pray to the almighty, they'll ask you if they should recite the bible front and back while they're at it." She said as she crossed her arms, "Which is why what we want from you is merely your support and endorsement, nothing complicated or awkward, just a thumbs up that you are on our side." She explained.
"I thought you said you didn't want me to betray the others?..." He questioned, one of his hands slowly balling into a fist.
"I know that's what it may seem like, but I give you my word that isn't our intention." She promised.
"Then what IS?..." He asked as he stood up from his seat, "So far all you've done is give me compliments, talk about how Charlie and the others are morons, and how the reform the Magne family is conducting is a bad decision without offering any evidence or arguments that back it up...so unless you're going to say something compelling I'm going to leave..." He warned.
In the seconds that followed, both parties kept silent and studied each other, trying to assess what was going on in their mind. For the Slayer, he was trying to see if Helsa or Stella had anything of worth to show him or if this had been nothing more than one big smokescreen to try and trick him. As for the two noblewomen, they were trying to figure out what the best approach was from here, one wrong move or poor choice of words, and this could all go up in flames.
"...You're right; I'm sorry." Helsa spoke after nearly a minute of silence between them passed, "I have just been shooting the breeze and trying to butter you up. If you want substantial evidence that we're not just trying to blow smoke up your ass, then you'll have it." She assured before picking up
a bell that was resting on the table.
Shaking the instrument a few times to be sure it was heard, soon from the building next to them came one of her servants, and in their hands a few documents ready for one's reading.
"All you need to do is look through what we have compiled here, and I know you'll start to see things from our point of view." She told him as she took the materials from her servant and handed them to the Slayer.
"What is it exactly?..." He asked while looking over the first page.
"Statistics for the most part at the beginning, things like how many of our fellow Nobles as well as Overlords have gone into hiding, how many of our citizens have been forced into the reform's rehabilitation program because their only other choice was a period of damnation, and how although the frequency of certain crimes like murder, rape, and forced prostitution have been significantly reduced thanks to the presence of the newly dubbed Exterminators, it has also affected the overall economy of our society which cannot be ignored." She answered.
"And I'm supposed to care why?..." He inquired as he moved his gaze back to her, "What this tells me is that your entire society was built on suffering...and I know where we are and that rules and morals have little to no value at all...but even with that being said if you expect me to care that some guy who got sent here for beating his wife to death before dying in a shootout with police is currently being tortured for his crime...then you honestly have no idea who you are talking to..." He told her.
In response to that, Helsa immediately burst into laughter, throwing her head back as if this were the funniest damn thing she'd ever heard in her entire life.
"No! Of course not, Will!" She exclaimed, having to wipe tears from her eyes due to how hard she was giggling, "All that data is meant to convey to you is the sheer number of people affected by this. I'm not asking you to care about them; they're all assholes and bitches. What I'm asking you to focus on is the quantity and how, with this reform in place, it's going to lead to a MASSIVE fucking problem." She said.
"...How?" He asked.
"Okay, so, not meaning to poke at old wounds but remember what happened six months ago? How in the blink of an eye all the demons from Doom you wrangled up broke out and, no pun intended, unleashed Hell on everything?" She replied, receiving a nod in return, "Well, imagine that happens again, only this time instead of being mindless monsters who just gnash their teeth at anything that moves, it's demons who can think for themselves, who can form plans and carefully orchestrated strategies to escape their damnation and exact revenge on those who put them there, top it all off with the potential danger of them getting back to earth or even opening a portal to somewhere entirely different now that we know that's a thing that can happen, and there are SO many ways this reform is going to end in a horrible disaster." She explained.
"I'd stop them..." He countered.
"Oh, I know you would. You'd be right there immediately with your shotgun and chainsaw in hand, ready to cut them down, but what if one of them happens to have an unusually plentiful amount of power? As in, they show up after dying yet somehow can rival denizens of this circle who've been here for centuries?" She suggested, "And before you say that wouldn't happen or that it doesn't matter, keep in mind that one of your friends, the infamous radio demon is proof that can happen, and while he is no match for you and your might, what should happen if one day a soul does come
here who at the very least doesn't instantaneously explode the moment you touch them?' She added.
"Shoot'em until they die..." He responded.
"But what if they didn't do something absurdly heinous?" She pressed, now leaning forward, intent on making her point, "People end up in Hell not solely because they've committed the worst acts imaginable, you can be sent down here for stealing money all your life even if you never held someone up with a knife or at gunpoint, and what about the people who kill justly by only strangling sex offenders or animal abusers? You could easily make the argument they don't deserve to be here for their acts of evil were in response to one of greater magnitude." She argued just as a realization donned on her, "In fact, you're living proof this can happen, you're the warrior for good the smiter of all evil no matter where it lies or what form it takes, but after all the blood and violence you've marched through your soul is tainted beyond ascension, sure you can move freely between Heaven, Hell, or anywhere else, but you can never truly enjoy paradise unless you are given special permission, which seeing as how you're best friends with literal god that could happen, but what about the guy who murders the son of a bitch who killed his wife and child in a drunk driving accident? Or someone disembowels a camp counselor who got handsy with the scouts? Are you saying you'd be fine with these souls should they refuse redemption enduring damnation meant for sinners who are truly deserving of the sentence? Or that you wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger on them as you would if they were a demon from Doom?" She asked.
That was it; the opening Helsa had been looking for to deal a decisive blow to the Slayer's immovable stance. For unlike before, he didn't say anything or even move to show he was going to leave; he stood where he was in front of his seat, considering what she said. And after a few more seconds went by, Helsa and Stella couldn't keep smiles from coming to their faces, as he decided to sit back down and continue this meeting with them.
"Alright, you make a good case..." He admitted giving her some praise, "Someone who kills just because they feel like they have the right isn't the same as someone who kills because it needs to be done...I know that better than anyone else..." He said as he put one of his arms on the table, "Even so this is a problem that can be easily solved while the reform remains where it is...simply by ensuring each person's case is looked over carefully, and the specific circumstances and details
regarding it are assessed...so with that in mind what reason still would I have to consider supporting your side of this?..." He asked.
"I'm afraid I can't answer that." She said before gesturing to their surroundings, "For the very place we sit in, the place I was born and raised, is the only answer you need." She told him.
"Care to elaborate?..." He inquired, wanting to know where she was going with this.
"Hell is meant to be the ultimate punishment Will, the reward given to those who couldn't keep a sparkly clean record, so instead of relaxing in Heaven where the sun's always golden, they come here where their lives while exciting are fraught with constant danger and peril, add on the fact that they can't ever truly die less they're killed by one of the Authorities or any other such higher figure, this means their punishment isn't just being denied the pearly gates above, it's also that they will endure a life that can never truly end unless fate just happens to take pity on them, in short, Hell is meant to be a free for all playground where the sinners fight for supremacy so they can have something of nice life here, but it still will never come close to what they could've had in Heaven." She explained.
"So you want things to go back to normal...how they were before I showed up and made any difference...where people even if they aren't truly evil can still find themselves suffering at the
hands of sadists?..." He asked. "That's half right." She answered.
"Then what's the other half?" He questioned.
"While we are against the reform, we aren't opposed to all of the good that has come from it, such as you as an example, but the issue is that it's not solving the problems we had. It's wiping the entire slate clean and replacing Hell with something entirely different, and as someone who is one hundred percent corruption truly a person of pure evil, being told I can't do things or act in certain ways that I am made for specifically, it leaves me and all the other souls both natural-born and arrivals from earth wondering what we're supposed to do because any semblance of choice on the matter has been taken away." She said.
Another short period of silent waiting then took place for the two women, though they were hopeful they'd at least furthered his interest as he began tapping his fingers on the table's surface in a sequential rhythm as he thought.
"...Here's where I've come to..." He began before bringing his fingers to a stop, "To your credit, you've actually made some decent points...and you've even given me a glimpse of how all of this looks from the perspective of someone who is a Hellspawn and is pure sin...however I'm still not going to magically decide I trust you more than people who I've spent a lot of time with...after all, I just met you two yet you act like we're old friends...so my decision of whether or not I will endorse you or support you or whichever way you want to spin it remains the same..." He told them.
"But we have earned you interest, have we not?" Stella inquired. "That's one way of putting it..." He replied.
"Does that mean we could maybe talk with you some more then? There's a lot more we can share with you that we didn't for this meeting since we just learned of your return." Helsa said.
"Sure, on one condition..." He responded. "Which is?" Stella asked.
"If you're going to keep trying to get me on your side of this, you'll only approach me...you won't bother the others or antagonize them in any way whether it's in person or through some other means..." He answered.
"Feeling protective, are we?" Helsa questioned though it was surprisingly honest rather than teasing.
"No, if any of them wanted to, they'd kill you on the spot...but like you said, you can't die like that, so it'd be no issue..." He said as he stood up from his seat, "They're just happy to see me is all, they've been through a lot, and they deserve to enjoy something so simple without you pissing them off..." He explained.
"Eh, that's fair." She replied as a smile came to her face, "Very well, if that is the condition to continue speaking with you, then consider it done, and since this is the end of our meeting if you'd like, my car is still waiting in case you want it to take you back." She offered.
"Thank you..." He told her to accept the free ride.
And with they finally parted ways, both women watching as the armored beefcake of a man left
both their company and their vision. Yet they waited until they saw the car pull away from the estate and drive away before talking to each other.
"I must say, I'm incredibly impressed, Helsa." Stella complimented as she poured some more tea in her cup, "After he stood up, I figured we lost him." She admitted.
"Likewise," Helsa confessed, taking the teapot from her once she was done to do the same.
"Do you think this is going to work? I mean, we are dealing with someone who spent who knows exactly how long fighting creatures, that while certainly more savage and unruly than we, are still demons and more specifically Hellspawn, he's probably all in favor for a far stricter Hell." She pointed out.
"The fact we got him to hear us out as much as we did is a sign that there is room for us to persuade him, we'll need to be smart and slow, but I think with enough time, everything will fall into place," Helsa replied while setting the teapot down.
"Then here's to a prosperous future for the both of us." She said as she held up her drink for a toast.
Responding by lightly clinking their cups together, the two of them then spent the rest of the midday relaxing in the garden, chatting over tea and eventually a meal, talking about what their next moves were to try and get the Slayer to support their cause.
Meanwhile, On Urdak...
It had been a long time since any of the former Khans had been in a corporeal state, even longer since they worked with their hands or with any of the tools and inventions of the Maykr race.
Despite this, it was like they never left; they moved about the space in which the soul sphere was kept with such grace and focus, working either alone or together flawlessly. To most, these larger- than-life angelic figures were the ideal colleagues to have on any project or research; both their intelligence and their conduct were something all should aspire to. But then you had the Wretch, someone who always worked best alone or at the most with one other person, i.e., Samur or the Slayer, helping him in whatever task needed to be accomplished.
Now, this didn't mean that he saw the Khans as intrusive or unhelpful by any means; he was grateful for their assistance as the work they needed to do could be accomplished even faster than they had hoped previously. Yet, at the same time as he worked by himself at his station in the room, still hoping for some semblance of solitude in this new environment, he couldn't help but be slightly irritated by the Khans' constant...checking.
"Is everything going well?" One of them asked as they came over, causing the demon to sigh for what felt like the twentieth time already.
"Yes, I have made a fair amount of progress on the current design of the containment structure...since the last time you asked about it five minutes ago..." He answered though he spoke that last bit in a whisper to himself.
"That's good. You know, if it would ease your workload, I would be more than happy to help in some way, even if it is simply going over what you have already done and checking it for any issues you hope are not present." She offered.
"Do you not have work of your own that needs attending, great angel?" He questioned.
"I do, but your chosen task is, without argument, the most important. As such, it holds the most effort needed, so I know it must be a bit much even for someone with as much experience in such things as you." She said.
"Singlehandedly I have forged entire towers in which the victims of the Dark One's conquests were bound in chains as their flesh was peeled from muscle and bone to serve his blood fueled machines, with no aid other than my own hands I created countless abominations that alone held more numbers than some worlds' entire populations, designing a housing unit for the soul sphere and its power is nothing to me." He replied.
"Even so would it not-"
"Thank you, great angel." He told her, cutting her off mid-sentence, "But I do not need any assistance at this time. If I do before the next time you or any of the others come over to see my progress, then I shall voice the request." He assured.
Though he kept his gaze focused on his work, he knew she had a look of disappointment on her face, and as she went back to her station, he felt for a moment the other Khans glance at him as well.
"Careful, your demonic side is finally starting to show itself," Samur said to him as he came over, which was entirely welcome as he was working on how the regulation of the Dark One's power could be safely conducted.
"Three minutes." The Wretch replied.
"Pardon?" He inquired, confused by that response.
"It's how long they wait before another of them comes over." The Wretch clarified as he just barely looked over his shoulder, "I've been keeping count, every time one of them approaches me asking if they could be of any help or if I'm feeling alright or if the soul sphere is affecting me at all, it is exactly three minutes after they return to where they were before it happens again." He explained.
"Heh, like clockwork," Samur commented, clearly amused both by their actions and how he was keeping track.
"Forgive me for asking this; I know it is not my place to speak such things." He began before turning his head to look at the seraphim, "But why are they acting like this? Do I come across as incapable or feeble?" He asked.
"Not at all. If anything, you are the most capable here alongside myself." Samur answered.
"Then why are they behaving in this manner? Surely it can't just be from the incident, could it?" He questioned.
"Remember when you first spoke with the Khans when they were still bound in their collective soul sphere? And how as you shared more of your past and life with them, they became more upset with each response?" Samur asked, to which he received a nod in reply, "Well then, that's your answer." He said.
"I don't believe I follow." The Wretch admitted.
"They're concerned for you, but not solely because of what happened a short while ago; as hard as it may be for you to accept it as fact given your low opinion of yourself, you have earned both their respect and their compassion." He explained.
"That's absurd. Why would beings as divine and as powerful as they care at all for a lowly creature made from evil itself?" The Wretch inquired.
"Why did Abaddon?" He countered as he met the demon's stare with his own, "It is clear to anyone with a functioning set of eyes or brain that you two are companions and that they, despite being one of the father's children, care about your well being." He pointed out.
"That's completely different." The Wretch argued. "How so?" He asked.
"Abaddon was one of the people responsible for Doom's existence when they and their siblings brought their powers together to make it, couple this with the fact they have been long burdened by what this action and what was done during the war between Heaven and Hell, they took me in because I had proven to the Slayer I was not like the rest of Doom's horrors, as for the nature of our relationship it was built over countless centuries of conversations and exchanges that allowed us to become friendly with each other." He answered before looking back at the Khans a second time, "But they have only known me for a short time, in addition to the fact that they were born with carefully sculpted appearances to convey their divinity and angelic beings, whereas I am, but a crude form brought to life by cursed sorcery made only to serve an insatiable master." He said.
A period of silence then occurred as Samur contemplated what he said, going so far as to put a hand to his chin out of instinct when his mind focused on something specific.
"...I cannot debate that." He admitted after a short while as he returned his hand to his side, "You make an excellent argument. One could even describe it as bulletproof." He said.
"Thank you." The Wretch replied, taking it as a compliment.
"With that being said, this does not mean the Khans will agree if they should hear any of this. Most likely, if you did share it with them, they'd become even more concerned and possibly angry." He told him, which made the demon sigh yet again.
"Then what am I supposed to do or say?" The Wretch asked.
"I have no idea. I've never seen them show such investment in another soul before, at least not as quickly as they have with you." He answered.
"Wonderful, that's just perfect, not only do I have six angels of great power, status, and wisdom all acting as if I am a wounded lamb wailing for its mother to help console it, but the only person who I assumed could offer me some form of advice or aid has decided to sit back and watch these interactions for his enjoyment." The Wretch stated, causing the seraphim to chuckle.
"I swear that isn't true, though I am enjoying myself quite a bit." He confessed as an idea came to mind, "If you're so bothered by this, why not go speak to the father? He would be a far greater help to you than I on this matter." He suggested.
"I can't. I'm needed here." The Wretch replied.
"I am more than capable of continuing your work. Unlike you should the Khans offer assistance, I will accept it." He said as a rather amused smile came to his face, "You may want to hurry, though. By my count, those three minutes are nearly over." He warned.
Hearing that, the Wretch paused for a moment and considered if he should leave or stay, which took less than a second as he'd rather speak with the creator than have another of the great angels
come over to talk with him. However, this would come back to bite Samur, for once the demon took his leave, the Khans looked towards him confused.
"Oh, dear." He said to himself, for he unwittingly just earned their attention.
Elsewhere...
"Ah...ah...ah..." Azrael sounded at the request of her father.
After the Wretch, the Khans, and Samur all took their leave to resume work on the Dark One's power, Vega went to see how both his son and his daughter were doing. To his pleasant surprise, he found them in the middle of a conversation, albeit it was mostly one-sided verbally as she could only respond through expressions and small actions at the moment. However, it still showed her recovery was progressing at a tremendous rate, so much so that he decided it was time for her to try speaking again to see if the strain on her soul was any better.
"That's good. You can make noises without any signs of struggle or issue." He noted, delighted to see his child getting better, "Now try to say some words, any at all will do." He instructed.
"...C...C...Can...Can I...p...please...g-get out...of this tube?..." She asked.
"Ha, I knew that'd be the first thing she'd want to tell us," Gabriel said with a smile.
"I understand that this is not the most spacious of accommodations, sweetie, but it is needed to ensure you return to your old self," Vega answered.
"F-Father...I...I understand...b...but...if I don't g-get out of here soon...I...I..." She trailed off, having trouble saying what was currently on her mind.
"It's okay; take a moment to calm down so that way it'll be easier." He advised trying to help her.
Doing as she was told, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to relax, and after a few seconds, she felt she could finish her sentence.
"I will lose my fucking mind." She told them, looking back to her father and brother with eyes teetering on the edge of madness.
Taken aback by how serious and even a slight bit intimidating she had been when she said that, Vega and Gabriel exchanged a quick look with each other before deciding to hold a quick meeting between themselves.
"Excuse us for one moment." Vega requested, holding up a finger as they both moved away from her by a small distance, "Well, that certainly wasn't expected." He said to his son in a whisper to start their conversation.
"In her defense, father, I know how she feels. The only difference between my lack of freedom and hers is that mine was at the hands of a bastard, not her parent." Gabriel replied.
"I'm not trying to be mean or overprotective." He said, not wanting to seem like he was overly cautious.
"And you're not, but Azrael, besides wanting to stand on her own legs again and not feel like she's crammed inside of a test tube, desperately desires to see that demon, you know that one
she was out with when the Hell Wave happened?" Gabriel explained. "His name is Husk." He informed.
"Father, it is already bad enough that I was tortured for six months. I'd rather not deal with the fact that one of my kin has potential affections for a beer-soaked Hellspawn." Gabriel responded.
BUMP
Looking behind them to see what made that sound, they saw Azrael hitting the glass of her chamber with a fist, giving her brother a look that read, "I'm going to kill you if you don't shut up," as she did.
"We really need to get better at whispering to each other around here," Vega said as this reminded him of the conversation he had with the Khan about Sir Pentious.
"Maybe we should keep her in there, if only for my sake," Gabriel suggested, genuinely uneased by what his sibling might do to him.
BUMP
A second time Azrael struck the glass, and with it came a look that said, "You're only making this worse for yourself."
"If we do, she'll likely keep hitting that glass until it shatters," Vega replied, knowing well the strength of his daughter, "It's obvious that you can't stand being in there any longer. However, you are still not at a point where I feel comfortable leaving you unattended as something could happen, so if I do allow you to leave the chamber, your brother is going to have to stay by your side for the next several hours." He told her.
"Oh no..." Gabriel muttered as he knew exactly what she'd have him do first.
Nodding her head quickly to show she not only agreed to that arrangement but was also eager to be free finally, Vega, after interacting with the chamber for a moment, opened its door. Immediately sitting up, she stretched out her arms, a big smile present on her features as it felt so good to no longer be cramped.
"Thank you...father." She spoke again, still taking it slow to make sure she didn't stutter or mess up her words.
"Don't thank me; it's your brother who will be your escort." He replied while gesturing to his son.
"Actually, father, I believe I must go see Lucifer or perhaps Abaddon. Surely either of them requires divine intervention?" He suggested not wanting to take part in this at all.
"DON'T. YOU. DARE." She warned while raising a finger to point at him, "You...are taking me...to see Husk...right now!..." She insisted.
"I'd listen to her, Gabriel. She is death incarnate," Vega advised in a jovial fashion.
Letting out a sigh in defeat since it was clear there was no way out of this, the archangel begrudgingly walked over to his sister and offered his arm to hold onto for support.
"Thank you." She told him with a smile accepting his assistance.
"I survived and escaped one Hell, only to be cast into another..." He replied with his head held down.
Watching as his children made their way out of the room, Vega couldn't keep himself from thinking back to the days of their youth. But that trip down memory lane would be brief, for not long after they departed, someone else arrived seeking an audience with him.
"Oh, Wretch." He greeted as the demon approached him, "Are things going well with the Khans?" He asked.
Choosing not to respond with a verbal answer as he believed silence would say all that he needed to, it quickly became apparent to the creator that there was some trouble in paradise.
"Oh, I see, why don't we go to the garden to have this discussion? A far more comfortable environment than an infirmary." He suggested, to which the Wretch agreed with a nod.
Meanwhile...
Dust filled the air of a building that had been abandoned long ago, so plentiful and thick that the many thin strands of light that poked through holes in the structure weren't needed to see it. Most of the objects that had filled the space were either worn away by time, stolen by vagrants, or when the building's doors closed for the last time had been sold to any person willing to buy them. The only things that did remain in a fairly decent condition were a few wooden chairs, the decorative windows whose colorful pictures had grown faded and cracked, and a podium near the end of the room where one would speak to any soul present. But speaking isn't what the new owner of the building planned to do.
"It's old, dusty, filled with who knows how many rats and bugs, probably a few dead hobos in the basement, and was probably the site of a few murders, ritualistic sacrifices, and date rapes, it's perfect," Valentino said with a grin as he walked through his new property.
"What are we doing here?" The Dark One questioned, having kept silent until his curiosity could no longer be held back.
"Isn't it obvious? We're walking through what will be the next chapter in our lives!" He replied while gesturing to the room around them, "But first we need to figure out how we're going to renovate it, we'll need some obvious stuff like a big ass organ for music, pews for the masses to sit in, and some books filled with a bunch of bullshit that we'll workshop once the work gets started." He explained.
"Valentino, are you suggesting that we spend our time which is limited and valuable, repairing a decrepit house of false worship and start our own religion?" The Dark One asked.
"Oh good, so you already know the plan. That saves me a lot of time explaining it." He answered.
"I don't know what's more baffling, the fact that you have somehow managed to live as long as you have or that you believe whatever this scheme is will somehow benefit us." The Dark One admitted.
"Look, I know this seems like I've suddenly contracted a mental disorder, but I promise you that isn't the case." He swore, "It may be hard to see now but give it some time, and this is going to pay off in the best way possible, with both of us sitting pretty on the rest of creation while our enemies,
such as that sentient boulder of a human being, will be serving as our new thrones." He told him.
"It would be easier to trust you if you bothered to share what this plan is rather than hope that the outcome will be so impressive that I'll forgive this lack of transparency." The Dark One said.
"Yeah, but I'm all about appearances and showmanship; what's the point of working so hard to destroy everything and become greater than god if you can't do it with some flair?" He asked with a smile.
However, the response he received was not one he expected, though it still brought an end to their conversation all the same.
"The best-laid schemes of mortal souls often go awry, leaving them only with shattered dreams and broken resolves when reality arrives to meet them."