Throughout all creation, the power to perceive and read souls was rare and extraordinary. The skill to heal and mend another's soul was even rarer, a gift bestowed upon only a handful of beings. Out of all those who possessed such a remarkable ability, only two could reattach broken shards and echoes of a soul.
The first was the Archangel Raphael, revered in Heaven for his divine healing prowess. His touch could mend not only the physical but the spiritual, restoring souls to their rightful state with celestial grace.
The second was the First Murderer in Hell.
It was his gift and curse, to live with the knowledge that he possessed something that could've salvaged his brother's soul, the brother he had killed in cold blood. Yet, he knew it was too late and that he would never have the chance.
That was personal his hell, and he lived every moment feeling its torment. The irony of possessing the power to heal souls while his own remained irreparably scarred was a torment he could never escape.
He did not reject it.
He accepted it wholly, for he did not deserve to ever forget. Bearing his shame and regrets, Cain had started his task—a task that proved both far more difficult and at the same time surprisingly more straightforward than he had anticipated.
The damage his father had done to the core was too severe. At first, he believed it to be a result of Lucifer's collapsing body that exposed his soul. That was the first diagnosis Belphegor had reached, and he saw no reason to disagree.
A body was both a vessel and an armor to host and protect the soul, which in turn was a vessel for the core that served as a conduit between the universe and the 'idea.' The Divine Healer likened the existence of a being to a Matryoshka doll.
Belphegor said that an onion was a much better simile.
His father must have peeled those numerous layers over and over through brute force until he reached the core. The absolute minced meat state Lucifer was reduced to supported that, as did the type of damage the princes of Hell had assessed. Yet, it turned out to be wrong. It wasn't until he began following the paths did Cain fully grasp the full extent of what happened.
His father did not destroy Lucifer's soul and flesh to reach his core. From the start, Adam had been hitting the core, bypassing all the defenses. His father did not destroy Lucifer's soul and flesh. The flesh and soul were simply torn as a result of the core being damaged.
Conceptual attacks did not target Lucifer, but rather the idea of Lucifer. A feat that he doubted any but the Taxiarch could replicate.
Each strike of the First Man had seemed to carry threads of intention and divinity that imprinted the concept of 'Destruction' on the very abstraction of 'the Serpent of Eden.'
Yet, despite all that, Lucifer still existed.
Even after Lucifer had thrown away the pride that made him Lucifer, 'Lucifer' still existed.
That merely added to his confusion. The defilement in that case should have been proportional between the idea and its container. But that wasn't the case.
Cain was bewildered. If the attacks were meant to destroy Lucifer entirely, why did the abstract belief of 'Lucifer' persist? The core vessel was shattered, the soul maimed, and the flesh dying, yet the essence, the idea of Lucifer, clung to existence.
Hesitantly, Cain stepped further into the connection, and lo and behold, the connection was as strong as could be. The writings on his soul were far beyond Cain's understanding, so much so that he had no choice but to chalk it up as the Lord's work. Perhaps it was a fail-safe to sustain the seal's function in case the worst happened and Lucifer was brought down.
'A backup plan in case Lucifer attacked Heaven, most likely.' He guessed. One that not even the King of Hell seemed to know about.
All that mattered was that the Seal was unchanged, a bit looser than before, but the Taxiarch's work held it tight. A few tweaks, and in hours, Cain had patched whatever holes and weaknesses existed. It was, of course a mere first draft, until the next Joybringer ascended, but it would hold for centuries to come.
Lucifer's healing was no longer crucial to the Seal's strength. Cain could have simply left him in that state, and Roo would never hope to brute force through it again.
Cain wanted to turn and walk away. The temptation was overwhelming, fueled by a deep-seated hatred for the man who had ruined all of creation, deceived his mother, and inevitably killed his Father. The notion of abandoning him to eternal suffering, to a fate where he would remain barely conscious, just enough to understand his own impotence, was almost too enticing to resist.
It seemed like poetic justice for Lucifer to spend the rest of eternity as nothing more than a broken linchpin. Cain envisioned him barely alive, only capable of recognizing his own helplessness. The thought of Lucifer, the once-proud Morningstar, reduced to such a pitiful state filled Cain with a dark satisfaction.
But, he couldn't.
He let his feelings rule over his mind once, and it ruined everything he held dear. Even if it wasn't the correct choice, saving Lucifer had been the right thing to do.
Cain clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he forced himself to stay. He took a deep breath and resumed his work, channeling his anger into meticulous precision. The fragments of Lucifer's essence were like shattered glass.
For six days and nights, Cain labored tirelessly, his focus unbroken. His powers allowed him to see the best course of action to achieve something, but knowing and doing were far too different. So, he put all his attention into his work, ignoring all that transpired around him.
The first day was spent analyzing the damage, mapping out the extent of the destruction. On the second day, he began the painstaking process of reassembling the core. The third and fourth days were dedicated to the soul. By the fifth day, the core and soul were beginning to resemble a crude, but functional imitation of their former selves.
He ignored the chaos in the other rings. He ignored the way the chain around his soul had suddenly burned brighter, signaling Lilith's return. When cold sweat broke on his brow and his legs felt like lead, he pushed through. Even when the Blessed Son was far closer than he was comfortable with. Cain didn't fear for his brother's life. Worst case scenario, he knew Bel would teleport Seth away.
On the sixth day, the Morningstar was as restored as Cain could manage. He was a far cry from his former glory. An incomplete puzzle, but he would live to regret his actions.
As Cain painstakingly stitched Lucifer's flesh back together, reinforcing the bindings Belphegor had placed on the still-unconscious Prince of Lies, he felt it. A shift, subtle yet unmistakable, rippled through the very fabric of the realm.
In an instant, he was no longer in the makeshift healing chamber. Instead, he found himself standing over Abel's unmoving body.
A primal cry of anguish erupted from his throat
The First Murderer looked down at the disgraced Queen of Hell. "Hello, Lilith. It has been some time since we've last spoken."
Lilith's voice trembled as she uttered his name, her fear and desperation clear in her strained tone. "Cain..."
Cain's gaze remained cold and detached. "Quite the sorry state you're in, Lilith," he remarked. His voice was devoid of any hint of sympathy or malice. "Seth did quite a number on you. Remarkable, really."
Lilith's breaths came in ragged gasps as she fought to rise, her strength clearly waning with each passing moment. The weight of her injuries and the encroaching darkness made her struggle even more painful. "So," she rasped, "you're here to finish what the rest of those bastards started, I take it?"
There was no immediate response, just a chilling silence as he took in her weakened state. "No, I'm not," he said with a weary sigh. "The conflicts between Heaven and Hell, both internal and external, are things I generally avoid."
She shot back, "Is that why your whore was present!?"
Cain's tone remained even as he replied, " "What Belphegor chooses to do is her own business. A wife is her own person, not merely an extension of her husband's will." He met her gaze steadily. "Or is that not what you claim to preach, O former companion of Adam?
Lilith glared, but said nothing. Rather, she barely had the strength to speak.
Cain's eyes remained steady, and his expression revealed nothing of his inner thoughts as he continued."Sometimes," he said, his tone distant, "one finds themselves in places they didn't intend to be. Perhaps I am here out of curiosity, or perhaps because the threads of fate have woven my path into yours."
Lilith tried to push herself up again, but her strength was almost gone. "Curiosity," she echoed, bitterness seeping into her voice. "Curiosity doesn't seem like enough of a reason to show up at the end of someone's life."
"Curiosity can be a powerful motivator. But perhaps there is something more... " Cain regarded her silently for a moment, then spoke with a hint of contemplation. A ghost of a smile flickered across his face. "You know, I'm in a good mood right now," he said, his tone oddly calm. "I feel liberated, both from your chains and my doubts."
He took a step closer, his presence imposing yet strangely detached. "It's not every day that one gets to witness the unraveling of a significant piece of history. Perhaps there's a certain... satisfaction in observing the end of an era."
"Wh... What the hell are you blabbering about?" Lilith managed to grit out, her voice trembling with both pain and confusion.
"Oh? Didn't you hear the choir?" A look of mild surprise crossed Cain's face as he knelt beside her. " Then again, I suppose someone who has cast away their humanity wouldn't."
. "What are you talking about?" Lilith's confusion deepened
"The weight you felt earlier," Cain said, his voice tinged with a grim satisfaction, "was not just a fleeting sensation. It was the final declaration of the Last Era. My father, Adam, has ascended to Godhood."
Lilith's reaction was slow, her eyes gradually widening as the shock of Cain's words hit her. Her breath became ragged, her chest rising and falling in quick, uneven bursts. "What... no..." Lilith's voice trembled as she tried to grasp his declaration. The dark abyss that loomed over her seemed to deepen, and her expression shifted from confusion to dawning horror.
"No..." she whispered, her voice barely audible, as if denying it could make it untrue.
Cain watched her with a detached fascination, his expression almost clinical as he observed her reaction. "Yes," he said softly, almost as if he were speaking to himself. "It's ironic, isn't it? The First Man rising to his throne while the First Woman crawls on the ground in her last moments."
Lilith's voice quivered, laden with a raw edge of fear and barely contained frustration. Her words came out uneven "You... You think this is a joke? Stop lying! You're... you're lying... It can't be."
Lilith's mind struggled to reconcile the cruel reality Cain had revealed. They were supposed to be equals. It didn't...
A broken scream tore from her throat as her body convulsed with the weight of her despair. Her fingers clawed through the coarse sand, dragging helplessly as if trying to grasp at something—anything—to anchor her in this collapsing world. Her legs flailed behind her, kicking out in a futile attempt to escape the crushing finality of her situation. Her cries echoed through the void, raw and desperate, a piercing denial of the truth that now consumed her.
Her pleas came out in ragged, desperate bursts. "Not Adam! No, this can't be happening! It's—it's impossible! He can't be a god! Not now, not like this! It's not real, it can't be!"
"Face it, Lilith. You've lost." Cain's soft voice cut through her
"Shut up!" she snapped, her voice cracking with the strain. "I haven't lost! I can't lose! I—" Her words faltered, breaking into heart-wrenching tears and sobs. Her body gave up on her as she fell, the sand beneath her turning into a grim mixture of blood and tears. "I just… wanted…" she choked out,
He ignored the sadistic urge to twisted the knife that appeared in his psych out of nowhere. He was no longer that type of man.
Cain's gaze softened, revealing a flicker of genuine sympathy. He looked at her with a pained understanding, shedding the cold detachment of before. But the reality remained harsh and unyielding. The past never dies.
They were merely reaping what they had sown.
His father's decree was clear and irrevocable.
Rejected and cursed, their fate was sealed.
The realization that his father's mercy was no longer a possibility, that no reprieve would be granted, brought a sense of grim relief to him.
"I can't change what's happened," he said, his voice firm yet carrying an undertone of resignation. "But maybe, in the end, what matters is not how we fall, but how we confront the remnants of what we've become."
Cain gently placed his palm on the back of her head, a gesture of unexpected tenderness. His touch was firm but not harsh, offering a moment of quiet solace in the midst of her despair. Lilith's sobs quieted as she felt the warmth of his hand, a fleeting touch of security.
"Lucifer is alive," Cain said, his voice carrying a soft, almost imperceptible edge of reassurance. "He's not whole," he continued, his tone gentle and steady. "But he remains. In some form."
The softness of his own tone surprised him. Lilith's sobs began to wane as she allowed herself to lean more fully into the comfort he offered. His hand, warm and steady, became a fragile anchor in her moment of despair.
Cain's hand rested comfortingly on the back of Lilith's head, his touch warm and reassuring. "He has endured, despite everything. In his last moments, he humbled himself in ways that no one expected. Perhaps, you could do the same..in your own way."
Slowly, Cain's hand began to glow with a soft light. The warm glow spread through Lilith's shivering form, soothing her anguish.
The light carried a calming energy, easing Lilith's storm of emotions. Lilith's trembling gradually subsided, her breath becoming more steady as the glow offered some relief from her grief. The light seemed to promise that, even in her suffering, there was still some compassion and understanding.
As the light intensified, it became clear that it was more than just illumination. Lilith felt the aches around her body ease. The cuts and bruises began to heal, her flesh knitting back together. The bleeding stopped, and the pain gradually subsided. Cain's hand, warm and steady, continued to emit the soft glow.
"Do not misunderstand," Cain said, his voice steady but carrying an edge of finality. "This act of healing changes nothing about my feelings towards you. My actions here are not a gesture of reconciliation or forgiveness. Even though I offer this help, it doesn't alter the history between us or the disdain I hold for what you've done."
Cain's essence continued to flow through her, working methodically to heal the damage. The raw wounds sealed, and her torn skin began to knit back together. The bleeding gradually ceased as her veins reconnected and her flesh renewed.
"However, if you wish to know why," Cain said, his voice carrying a weight of weariness. His expression shifted, revealing the lines and age that belied his eternal youth. For a moment, he looked more like the man he truly was, the burden of countless centuries etched into his features.
His Authority spread across her entire body, mending what was left of the damage. The majority of the injuries faded away, but a particularly grievous wound remained—a gaping, rotting tear where his brother's cursed blade had struck her. This blow had pierced not just her flesh but her very essence, attempting to sever her from Creation itself.
He kept his hand on the back of her head feeling the trembling of her body slowly subside. "Because you asked for help," he began, his tone earnest and deliberate. "In a world where so many have turned their backs on one another, a simple plea for help still has meaning. It's something I can't ignore."
It was an attack akin to the one Cain's father had wielded, but where Adam sought to destroy Lucifer, his brother aimed to unmake Lilith entirely. It was a fate so cruel that even the Lord himself could not fully mend it should it reach completion.
Just as Cain had done to Abel.
Lilith's face remained pressed into the sand, tears mingling with the dirt, but Cain continued, his voice unwavering and sincere. "Once, we were both human," he said, his voice carrying a note of melancholy. "And it's human to care for one another, to reach out in times of need. We may have become something else over the eons, but that fundamental truth remains."
Cain's powers reached out further, detecting the spread of rot and rejection coursing through Lilith. His senses brushed against a miniscule jewel, so insignificantly small and tiny, he barely noticed it. It reminded him of the barrier he found on Lucifer's yet powerless.
His hand gently stroked her hair, a rare gesture of comfort. "Maybe because you helped me once," he added, his voice softening with a flicker of gratitude. "There was a time when I was lost, and you extended a hand. That's something I haven't forgotten, even if it was long ago."
His focus zeroed in on the spreading decay, a dark mass disrupting her essence. It was as if the rot were a physical thing, weaving through her being, causing her core to unmake itself. A dark chain that seemed to pull her closer into the abyss.
Healing it or extracting the rot was impossible for him. This wasn't just an attack; this was the universe casting her away, considering her an abnormality, like a body fighting off an infection. With the weight of all Creation bearing down on her, Cain didn't stand a chance.
"Maybe because I'm a healer, and it is my duty," Cain said, the faint glow of his essence still flowing into her, knitting her wounds, restoring what could be mended. "Healing isn't just about mending the body; it's about offering a chance to find some semblance of peace, even if only for a moment."
She should have been unmade minutes ago. Luckily for her, his father's ascension had thrown all creation out of tandem momentarily.
He took a deep breath, his exhaustion palpable in the way his shoulders sagged. "Or maybe," he added with a faint, rueful smile, "because even failures like us need someone to give a damn.
Lilith hesitated for a moment before pushing herself upright. Her fingers roamed over her body, feeling the restored flesh and clothes, but there was no pain—just the lingering sense of what had been. She traced the dark wound on her chest, feeling the lines Cain's power had etched around it.
Her gaze turned to Cain, hope bright in her eyes. "Did you...?"
Cain's expression grew serious. "I can't heal the core of your wound," he said, his voice heavy with regret. "What I've done is just a temporary measure. I've slowed the decay by breaking it down into smaller sections. It's not a cure, but it gives you more time. A couple of weeks or so."
The weight of his words sank in. Lilith's face fell, the hopeful glimmer replaced by a deep, painful understanding. The joy she had clung to began to crumble. The relief had been temporary, and the harsh reality of her condition remained.
Her shoulders sagged, and the cruel nature of her fate became all too clear.
He only dragged out the inevitable.
"Oh." She muttered. Her eyes, still glistening with shed tears, met Cain's with a look of desolation.
"Most of your strength is depleted, but you still have enough to protect yourself," Cain said, his eyes softening with rare empathy as he glanced down at her stunned form. He sighed and closed his eyes briefly, gathering his thoughts. "In the grand scheme of things, it might seem insignificant. But sometimes, a little time is all you need to make a difference." "Time for what?" Lilith's voice was hollow, tinged with a sardonic laugh that echoed her deep despair.
Cain's tone was firm yet gentle as he rose to his feet. "That's for you to decide," he said simply.
Turning away, he walked across the blistering sand, his movements deliberate and steady. As he made his way, two portals appeared before them, their edges glowing softly in the dim light.
"Goodbye, Lilith," he said over his shoulder.
He stepped through the gate.
The portal shimmered shut behind him, the scorching heat and overbearing brightness giving way to a cool breeze and comforting pink sky.
Cain found himself alone on the roof of the Somnus Sanctum, the grandest of the Sloth Ring's hospitals. His feet guided him toward the railings. He leaned against the cold steel and slid down to the floor, his head sinking into his hands.
He stayed there for a while, trying to get his bearings and hoping the insistent ringing in his ears and the deafening drumming of his heart would stop. His whole body felt heavy, and the exhaustion was almost unbearable.
He felt bile rise up his throat, resisting the urge to vomit. He focused on his breathing, slowly inhaling and exhaling, trying to regain some sense of control. Each breath felt like a small victory against the chaos inside him.
The cool air of the Sloth Ring helped, its gentle touch easing the tension in his muscles. Again, he breathed in, and try to let an long slow exhale." Haaah! huuuuphph-Fuck!" he cursed in frustration, feeling his nails dig into his the side of his head. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"
He was consumed by an urge to destroy, to go back and tear Lilith apart, piece by piece.
But that wasn't what he truly wanted.
Deep down, he yearned to beg for forgiveness.
But he didn't feel he deserved it.
'Get your fucking shit together.' Cain ordered himself. what the fuck was he doing? He was way too old to have a fucking hissy fit. he had gone a long way to throw it all away over a damn temper tantrum.
Imperceptibly, his wrath began to cool down from an inferno to burning embers.
Gradually, his self-loathing simmered beneath his skin.
As the minutes passed, the ringing in Cain's ears began to fade, replaced by the distant hum of the hospital below. The steady rhythm of his breathing became a lifeline, grounding him in the present moment.
His half-lidded, puffy eyes gazed down, fingers gently tracing the golden chain that sprouted from his heart.
This was his destiny, the conclusion he had prayed for through eons of torment.
His father had finally rejected him.
He mustn't be greedy.
He was fine with it.
He had to be fine with it.
After slapping his face a couple of times to snap himself out of his episode, the First Son made his way off the roof through the staircase to the floor beneath. Each step was deliberate, his body still heavy with exhaustion, but his mind slowly regaining focus.
He was tired. As long as he reached Bel, all would be well.
As he descended, the distant echoes of voices reached his ears, growing louder with each step. Recognizing the need for discretion, Cain swiftly cast a simple glamour spell to change his appearance into one more nondescript, something that would blend in easily within the bustling hospital.
Navigating the dimly lit corridors, he followed the voices. The familiar sound of the chatter became clearer, guiding him through the labyrinthine halls. Soon, the room where the Sins were kept came into view, distinct voices rising to a clearer tone as he approached.
As Cain neared the room, the voices became unmistakable.
"-kneel to the likes of you, arrogant brat!" Satan's thunderous voice echoed through the halls.
"Oh! Keep talking shite, mate!" Mammon retorted. Cain cursed under his breath. The Dragon of Wrath was someone he could tolerate, for Mammon had been there thousands of years ago, witnessing the same horrors. But Cain doubted his glamour spell would fool the Clown or that he would keep his big mouth shut.
"Just give me a sec to get a camera," Mammon continued with a cackle "I'll have this ass whopping televised."
Cain wanted to turn around and leave, but the two Sins were seemingly about to duke it out right here, which would be a catastrophe. He doubted Belphegor would be able to stop them.
Just as Cain contemplated his next move, he was suddenly snatched by the scruff of his neck and dragged away.
Speak of the She-Devil.
"Where the fuck have you been?! I've burned my damn phone trying to reach you!" Belphegor hissed in his ear, her voice sharp with frustration as she dragged him along. "Goddamn Heaven fucking up the reception."
She looked like she had been through a war zone. Strands of violet hair were tangled in her horns, and her clothes were wrinkled and hastily thrown together. Her coat's buttons were wrongly secured.
Cain stumbled slightly as he was yanked away, barely keeping up with her pace. "I was handling something important," he muttered, still feeling the residual effects of his earlier exhaustion
Belphegor didn't slow down, her grip firm. "Well, while you were off doing who knows what, the rest of us have been dealing with this mess. You need to get the fuck outta here, Cain, before he sees you!"
She opened a portal behind them, trying to throw him through it, but he held on, confused. "What happened?" he demanded.
She ignored his question, her eyes frantic. "Just leave already!"
"Bel!" he pleaded, resisting her push. "Tell me what's going on!"
Belphegor's face contorted with hurt and frustration. "Please, I just don't want you to get hurt," she said, her voice cracking. "Your bro—" Her words faltered, swallowed by a deafening crash that shook the entire hospital.
"Shortstack!"A second later, the doors of the healing room burst open with a resounding bang.
"Shorstack! Where the fuck—Oh, there you are," the angel called out, his brilliant silver wings hanging loosely as he approached. His clothes were tattered, hanging loosely from his frame, while white bandages wrapped around his body left only his head visible.
"The drake was getting uppity, so I smacked him, but I think I tore something in my—" The angel's words faltered as came a bit closer to them. His gaze fixed on Cain.
Cain's breath caught in his throat.
The contrast between them was striking.
Cain's long, dark brown hair, bordering on black, was a stark contrast to Seth's shorter, light chestnut hair. Cain's cold blue eyes were a world away from Seth's fiery crimson ones. Cain's features carried a softness, a lingering trace of their mother's gentleness, while Seth's face was a harsh echo of their father's scowl.
They barely looked like family, let alone brothers. Yet, even with one under a glamour and the other wrapped in bandages, there was an undeniable recognition.
Even though, they had never met face to face before.
Blood knew blood.
Cain's body froze, a primal fear gripping him. The sight of Seth—so starkly different yet unmistakably his brother—sent a jolt through him. Every instinct screamed at him to run, to escape the inevitable confrontation, but his feet felt rooted to the floor.
His breath quickened, and a cold sweat broke out across his brow. The fear was all-consuming, a raw, suffocating panic that twisted his gut. Memories of past mistakes, of the failed attempts to escape his family's shadow, surged back,
Cain watched in muted horror as his brother's eyes widened with recognition. The fear that had gripped him only intensified when Seth's face went blank, his red eyes narrowing into predatory slits. Seth's body tensed, his posture shifting as he prepared to lunge.
The blessed son moved with a terrifying speed. Belphegor's frantic shouts barely registered as she shoved him through the portal. She was quick, but Seth was faster. Cain felt a jolt of sheer terror as Seth's fingers dug into his shoulder, a vice-like grip that sent a shock of pain through him.
In a blur of motion, the portal swallowed them both, and they were hurled through a disorienting vortex. The world spun violently, and the next moment, they crashed onto a frozen tundra hard enough to jar his bones, as they skidded across the icy ground.
They finally came to a stop a couple of kilometers away from the portal, the harsh winds billowing in his ears. While he struggled to make sense of the icy expanse around him, Cain's front robes were tugged sharply, he struggled to make sense of the icy expanse around him.
It took him a moment to register where they were. The endless white of the frozen landscape was unmistakable—Antarctica. Despite the frigid environment, a small part of him noted with detachment that he wasn't shivering.
Seth's voice cut through the silence, harsh and strained. "You damn fool!" He tightened his grip around Cain, pulling him close. His left arm, now a stump, encircled Cain's back with a surprising firmness, while his right hand kept Cain's head pressed against his chest.
The cold should have been unbearable, but he barely felt it.
In his brother's embrace, Cain only felt warmth.
Kinda of a short chapter, I know. It was supposed to be twice as long, but sadly, my PC started shitting itself, and this seemed to be a good place to end it.
The Brothers finally meet, and you can see that both take after their father in different ways.
Till next time.