April 7, 1940
All of Creation was linked together. Heaven, Earth, and Hell. This was displayed in various signs and events.
One thing was a solar eclipse.
On Earth, it was nothing more than the moon briefly obscuring the sun along a certain strip of the world.
But this event lingered in the afterlives.
In the Ring of Pride, the red moon turned pitch black for twenty-four hours. So dark, it damped even the holy glow from the portal to Heaven.
Much like Earth, such celestial movements tended to inspire erratic behavior in some souls.
Be they Sinners or Hellborn.
Still, Alastor grinned as his shadows made quick work of the demons. "Imps. I ate a sinner or two similar to your kind, but never the real thing. I wonder if there is a difference," he mused with a twirl of his cane. "Mimzy, my dear, are you doing alright up there?"
"Doing Great, Al! Might barf though! You're hanging me upside down here!" Mimzy called from where a tentacle held her up protectively.
"Ahh, my mistake! I'm still mastering the finer controls," Alastor assured with a grin as he sat her down right side up.
"You lamb, you just wanted to give me a right freight," Mimzy said with a chuckle, dusting herself off. "Thanks for letting me stay with you. Things have been really crazy lately."
"Oh, I'm quite aware," Alastor said, a slight drip of disgust to his smile. "But think nothing of it, my old friend! Just keep your adorable head down. Someone might just try to take it."
"You're not joking," Mimzy said with a head shake. "Think there's anyplace left to get a good drink or-"
Alastor slammed his staff into the ground, a shield forming around them as a ball of magic lightning grazed off it.
Mimzy yelped, hiding behind a dumpster in fear. Alastor remained unmoved, unimpressed, and just short of uninterested in his new adversary.
It was a demon, a deer with short antlers and nimble feet, tawny fur all over. On the back were a pair of large scaly black wings, sticking out of a very expensive and overly gaudy robe. Complete with a cape.
"I heard a whisper of a Stag amongst Overlords," the deer said pompously, standing confidentially with one hand on his hip.
"Mimzy, I think it'd be best for you to depart," Alastor said with a charming hum, waving his staff in her direction and making a portal.
"Right! Thanks Al, and give him Hell!" Mimzy called back as she left through the dark portal.
"What an interesting menagerie of powers for such a newly fallen sinner," the demon said with vague interest and something that might be a condescending form of respect.
"If you are possessing manners, good Sir, perhaps we should at least know one another's names before tearing each other to shreds?" Alastor said with a grin.
"Hmph. You, Mortal, are not deserving to know my name. Merely know that you have the honor of being practice for one of the Ars Goetia," the demon-deer said, waving a hand and sending a trio of lightning arrows at the Radio Demon.
Alastor narrowed his eyes, two of his shadow limbs knocking them off course into the buildings around them. The final bolt, Alastor dodged by leaning his head to the side. Far to the side, but still.
He felt the hair on his neck stick up from the static.
The deer looked indignant at that. "I suppose you are worth hunting."
"Oh no, my noble fiend, you are still Just A Fawn," Alastor said mockingly.
The deer tensed.
Alastor glanced meaningfully at the demon's very small, juvenile horns.
The Ars Goetia snarled and stamped his hooved foot. Despite their delicate look of them, the limbs shook the ground a touch, just before lightning bolts erupted from the ground, a wave of them heading towards Alastor.
The Radio Demon frowned and retreated. He never turned his back, merely backing away as he watched the bolts erupting closer and closer to him. There was a pattern to them, akin to a checkerboard.
He stopped moving entirely, standing straight, letting the attack pass him by harmlessly. It was a slim safe zone, but he was a slim man.
He was instantly met with the deer demon flying at him with a fist aimed at him. He brought up his staff, blocking the first was ease.
There was power to this one, but...
"Young and unrefined. A shame, you'd have been worthy prey in time," Alastor taunted.
"Silence! A mere mortal would know nothing of refinement!" his foe roared back, sending blow after blow against him.
But Alastor practically danced around his attack, barely even using his powers to dodge the blows. "Arrogant, unrestrained, and oh so slow," Alastor mocked.
The hellborn grew more incensed. "A mortal, daring to mock an heir of the Ars Goetia! Truly, this is the Ring of Pri-."
He stopped as a swarm of shadowy creatures leaped up from Alastor's shadow. They clung to the noble, failing to harm him but easily hobbling him as he struggled against them.
"Filthy things! Get off me!" the deer said, snarling.
"I do believe that this game is mine," Alastor said, taking on his own more demonic form as his antlers grew. He raised his staff like it was a blade, to stab the arrogant hellborn.
Right in the head, between the eyes.
The noble growled and bayed his frustrations as the attack came closer. His small horns glowed brightly, sparking with electricity.
A barrier formed, protecting him from the Radio Demon. Alastor grinned wickedly, saliva dripping from his fangs as he pressed harder against the shield, black waves coming from the tip of his staff.
The hellborn grunted, but his eyes grew wide as he felt the barrier waning until-
There was a great scream as the barrier broke, the fawn sent skidding back with a large wound in his shoulder.
"Shame. It's bad of a hunter to miss the killing blow if he can help it," Alastor said in mock disappointment, approaching his victim.
"H-how?! I am a child of Count Ronove, an Earl of the Ars Goetia!" the deer said in outrage, getting to his knees while clutching his shoulder. "How could a mere sinner...?!"
Alastor chuckled as he tapped his radio staff against his hand.
Before either could say more, static came from the staff. "A child you be, for a child I see."
Alastor frowned as he heard the voice emitting from this radio. Now, who had done that?
"What is that? "the deer asked with a scowl. "Another trick?"
"You have trucked only yourself, Furcifer."'
They were both acutely aware that the voice was no longer on the radio.
Alastor hummed as his eyes looked ahead, but not at Furcifer.
The Earl's eyes went wide as he turned as quick as he could, raising his free hand with lighting in it.
Only to stop dead in horror at the figure.
Abaddon's flame-bled eyes peered back in golden scrutiny.
The attack faded away in the Earl's hand from sheer dread. "You're...you're one of the Fallen," he realized numbly, stepping back. "A watcher?"
Abaddon ignored the question. "You are a foolish fawn, to face an uninterested lion and ignore the hunger of the hyena."
"What-!?" Furcifer asked in fear, only to find a staff impaled through his heart.
Alastor casually removed his weapon, flicking the blood clean of it as the Earl fell dead. "A tad disappointing. I thought the Ars Goetia were meant to be...more," Alastor mused, looking up. "I take it you must be Abaddon?"
"You take correctly, Stag of the Crescent," Abaddon answered, towering over the Radio Demon in his shadowy might.
"Mmm? Has our mutual associate in Heaven spread that alias around?" Alastor asked with a head tilt, watching the entity carefully.
"You were granted a name by The First Name. Do not presume insignificance towards such a matter," Abaddon warned severely.
"Hmm?" Alastor narrowed his eyes, tilting his head as he tried to decipher what that might mean. Getting nowhere, he smiled wider with a twirl of his staff. "In any case, I hope I didn't give the impression I needed help with that fight, thought the terror you inspired in him was appreciated."
"Your might grows well, Stag, but do not swell with vainglory for killing a runt," Abaddon said, looking down at the body. "No True Sorcerer lay here, for Furcifer the Scoundrel was still yet an acolyte of the Low Magics."
"Low Magics?" The Alastor inquired with a hum.
"Hell Magic. Demon Magic. A child of the Ars Goetia may not claim their mantle in full until they have true dominion over the Low Magic. Only then might they unveil their True Forms," Abaddon explained, eyes on Alastor. "Be wary, for you would find it no trifling challenge to best even a True Earl."
So, he had killed what was truly just a noble whelp, low on experience and high on his own ego. Alastor was mildly disappointed, as that lessened the meaning of his victory, but it was still pleasing in other ways. "So tell me, what interest does a Fallen Angel have with me?"
"None."
Alastor's mouth twitched in annoyance at the blunt, dismissive answer. "Yet, here you are."
"My only concern lay with the Child of the Morningstar," Abaddon answered, his form shifting to look off to the side. "And those who battle too loudly and too close to where she dwells."
Alastor hummed, recalling that yes, they were somewhat close to the Devil's Manor. "Interesting. I don't hear much of the Fallen Angels. Just that they avoid the Ring of Pride."
"Horrid memories linger here for those who remain of the Watchers, "Abaddon answered mysteriously, gazing up to the Roof of Pride.
Alastor sized this one up and down, this Fallen Angel who deigned the gap between them so large as to look away from Alastor. He probably didn't stand a chance yet. Probably. "If I should assume we're not enemies?" Alastor started, waving to the dead hellborn. "I think I shall take my prey and have my fill."
Abaddon laughed, and it was like a thing of smoke and dust. "Be wary of what passes by your ravenous fangs, Horned Host. Low Magic is in the blood, the bones, and the flesh of the Ars Goetia. You might find this meal not one you can stomach," he warned toyingly.
Alastor considered that warning and dismissed it. "Not to worry, I'll be sure to cook it well. Even if I would have preferred it raw."
Abaddon said nothing, merely staring at the Radio Demon before disappearing as shadows faded in the wind.
"How very interesting," Alastor said, looking down at the pile of noble meat waiting to be devoured.
He didn't notice more eyes were on him and the exchange he had, narrowed in intrigue.
Heaven
"Adam! Adam, there you are!"
"Hmm?" Adam turned to see two familiar faces. "Fluffcake, Danger-tits."
"Sir," Lute greeted, nodding to the small Seraphim. "She was wanting to join you for, well, this," she said, nodding to the skies above Heaven.
Adam looked back up from where he stood, on the clouded landscape just outside the city of Heaven.
The eternal light of Heaven had dimmed greatly. And in its absences, the lights of the cosmos shined brightly as nebula and cosmic dust dancing with the celestial light of the Seven Heavens. It was like the Aurora Borealis on Earth, but several times More in every fashion.
It was a grand event that many were always eager to watch. It lasted for a full day after an eclipse on Earth happened, so it wasn't easy to miss for most souls.
"Isn't it beautiful, Adam?" Emily asked with a wide smile., the lights shining in her eyes.
"Yeah, one of the only things Lucifer didn't fuck up," Adam said absently.
Emily looked up at him in surprise, while Lute looked considerate.
"I'll leave you both to enjoy it, Sir," Lute said as she moved to give them some privacy.
"Wait, please don't! It's always better to enjoy this with friends!" Emily requested pleadingly.
Lute paused, looking to Adam who shrugged. "No one is going to make you stay or leave, Danger-tits."
The exorcists nodded and rejoined them. As a trio, they watched the cosmic spectacle go on overhead.
"Adam?" Emily asked after a long moment. "Can I...ask you something that might make you mad?"
"It's about that fucking snake I mentioned, right?" Adam asked with a sigh.
"I'm sorry! I know he's...a subject no one wants to talk about, but..." Emily glanced from the lights to the ground and back up to Adam. "I wasn't there."
Adam gave her a long look. "What did Sera tell you about him?"
"That...he used to be amazing," Emily said with a frown. "He was brilliant, and creative, back when Creation was still so small and unstarted. And the way she talks about those times, before...everything, Sera makes him sound so-"
"Nice," Adam finished. "He was one of the nicest fuckers in Creation. Always knew what to say to make your ass smile."
Emily blinked. Lute did not. "What happened? What changed?" Emily asked curiously.
"Nothing," Adam said with a snort. "We just learned that Nice and Kind can be as far apart as Paradise and Earth."
Emily furrowed a brow. "I...don't understand."
"The Archtraitor was utterly unable to empathize with anyone that didn't think similarly to himself," Lute summed up brutally. "When everyone else told him an idea was dangerous, he was arrogant enough to ignore every opinion that didn't match his own."
Emily looked up at Lute in surprise. "Were you there too, Miss Lute?"
Lute didn't answer, but by the look on her face, Emily could tell she was touching something she shouldn't.
"I'm sorry. I know no one likes talking about this," Emily said softly, looking down in regret.
Adam placed a hand on her head, letting that comfort her for now.
August 6, 1940
Charlie was a little disappointed to miss Adam dropping off her present this year, but at least he left a note.
'Hellflake: Can't stay, shit is busy in Heaven. Dickmaster Out.'
Dickmaster. She really should figure out something to call him, just like he called her Hellflake. But she wasn't calling him Dickmaster! And she...was pretty sure he might not want her to. Probably? Was Dickmaster a sex joke or just Adam being Adam?
Filing that away for now, she found her gift was something different this year. A book.
"The Young Desire It, by Seaforth Mackenzie. Published three years ago?" Charlie read off from the first page, tilting her head. Adam was ten thousand years old, how did he know about a book that was one a few years old? He didn't come across as someone who loved to read.
She flipped some more pages and found another gift: It even came with a bookmark that was...
Bright red with ash-color snowflakes on it?!
A Hellflake Bookmarker?!
Charlie was ready to consider the bookmarker the best present at that moment.
On the same page as the bookmarker, she found a quote on the page, which she read in curious consideration. "To be free to choose is not enough. Though the young desire it, they cannot use that freedom, but must be forced into the decision of choice by good or evil circumstances which while they can perceive them they cannot control. Michael Paul: The Anatomy of Failure," she ready off with a furrowed brow.
She got the feeling the bookmark was not placed there by chance.
"To be free to choose is not enough?" she repeated under her breath.
Adam and her parents were very similar in some ways. They were bad about talking about certain things. Adam because he claimed it would ruin her view of her parents. Her parents because it was hard to explain.
Hard, and painful.
She rubbed the hellflake marker between her fingers.
So, Adam wasn't ready yet to tell his story of Eden. But this felt like a clue or something.
She closed the book, her head too confused to even test the waters of the story. With a sigh, she headed outside on her balcony, resting her head on the railing.
Or, she would have, if she hadn't realized there was a surprise guest in their yard.
Abaddon.
He was seated on the ground, back against the brick wall surrounding the wall, next to a push. It was easy to mistake him for just a shadow if one didn't catch the lights of his eyes and mouth.
Or, just as likely, his very body was intentionally hard to notice if he didn't draw attention to himself.
"Razzle, Dazzle," she hissed to her pets, who rushed over and blinked as they saw the shrouded back being. With a few gestures on her part, Dazzle transformed and carried her down to the ground before changing back, following after her as she approached. "Umm, Hello? Mister Abaddon?"
"Princess of the Pit," he greeted, not moving from his spot. "I entrust the Yeartide of your Advent has proved joyous?"
"My birthday? Yeah, it was great! Thank you," Charlie said with a smile before looking confused. "What are you doing out here?"
"Assuring this day remains undisturbed for you," he answered meaningfully, pausing as something exploded nearby. "Denizens of Hell prove their fiendfulness with each passing of the sands."
Charlie blinked. "Wait, you were out here protecting the house?! Why didn't you say something? I would have brought you cake! And ice cream! And-" Charlie stopped at Abaddon's unmoving face. "Wait, do you have the same rule as Adam? No eating anything from my house?"
"No words would do it more justice than truth: Beware gifts from the Devil," Abaddon answered with a chuckle like crumbling embers.
"But you're a fallen angel too. I mean, doesn't that mean it's...safer for you?" Charlie tried softly, even if she felt that reasoning was weak.
"Do not mistake my willingness to protect you as a feeling of kinship to those you are spawned of," Abaddon warned carefully.
Charlie winced at that. "I guess I should have expected that. Adam wouldn't trust anyone on good terms with my parents," Charlie said in reassignment. "...Thank you? For guarding my home."
"No fools dared venture this way, it has been of no issue," Abaddon assured, waving away her concerns.
Dazzle suddenly went over and smelled the outstretched hand. He titled his horned head curiously before bah'ing in some form of acceptance, nuzzling the hand.
Abaddon hummed but did not force the Hellbeast away.
"Awww, he likes you!" Charlie said with a grin. "You're turning into such a sweetheart, Dazzle!"
Razzle huffed and looked away in seeming indignation.
"Still, thank you," Charlie said softly. "I wish there was something I could do."
"Your word and company are enough," Abaddon assured as he allowed Dazzle to sit next to him.
"Can I stay a bit longer then?" Charlie asked hopefully.
Abaddon paused and titled his flame-like head. "Whose property do I sit upon?"
"That is still a yes!" Charlie said playfully as she sat down, a bit too eagerly.
"The First speaks well of your mind's gluttony, but your desire for knowledge is quite odious regardless, Heir of Gehenna. Let your questions rain," Abaddon said with an amused smirk.
"I am not a mind-glutton! I only get to speak to Adam two times a year!" Charlie defended dramatically.
"And he is your only wellspring of answers?" Abaddon countered with a keen tilt of his brow.
Charlie didn't answer that. "You said the Watchers once considered you one of them, right?" she asked, getting a nod. "Well, what were they?"
"A clarification is in order," Abaddon prompted pointedly.
"Dad said they were sent to guard the Earth and help guide humans, but they disagreed with how Heaven wanted it done. So they were cast out like he and Mother were," Charlie answered with a frown.
"This answer does not satisfy you?" Abaddon inquired knowingly.
"It might have, but..." Charlie looked to the side. "I asked Mom too. And she told it differently."
Abaddon said nothing, but she saw the flare of interest in his eyes.
"Mom said that the Watchers wanted to join with humans and break free from Heaven's rule. But she said they fell of their own accord, not that they were cast out," Charlie explained.
"Neither is true, but I cannot discern if the lies were created or repeated for you," Abaddon said with a frown.
"Why would my parents lie about that?" Charlie asked with a frown.
"Why indeed," Abaddon answered with a hum. "The Order of the Watchers. It was an ideal crafted by the First himself."
"Adam?" Charlie realized in surprise. "He...made the Watchers?"
"Creation would be too generous, but he did give motion to their inception," Abaddon explained. "To protect the Earth and help guide the young humanity to a prosperous future. Seven angels to lead seven armies. But their hearts grew dark with the whispers of temptation in their ear. They came to desire humanity."
"My parents mentioned that, the Nephilim," Charlie nodded. "Heaven didn't like them being with humans and-"
But Abaddon shook his head. "That is not what I mean, Child of the Morningstar," he said ominously. "They desired of mankind as your mother claims Her First desired of her."
Charlie started at that. "What...what do you mean?"
"Rule, child. They saw humanity as something to control, to dominate, and to glorify themselves with. For they were the ones who crafted and scarred into mortal minds the very concept of deities and the need to worship them, appease them, obey them," Abaddon said with a vile revulsion to his tongue, as if he would spit something smoldering.
Charlie almost expected he would.
"I betrayed their treachery and doomed their ambitions. After a great struggle across all of Creation, they forsook their hold on Earth to seek refugee in Hell," Abaddon said, glancing at the manor. "They received it, from the very inspiration of their ambitions."
"You blame my father for their fall?" Charlie asked with a frown.
Abaddon returned his gaze to her, and his eyes narrowed with something amused like she had missed something.
She blinked in understanding. "My mother?"
"If they should make a Kingdom in Hell, why not us on Earth?" Abaddon asked rhetorically. "The decree, the ration of logic given by the leader of the Fallen, the Second Archtraitor: Samyaza."
Charlie felt something, heard something shift at the mention of that name. A chill in the air, a quiet echoing howl on the wind.
"You...were the only one to turn away from them?" Charlie asked with a frown.
"No, and yes," Abaddon answered, dipping his head in memory and some greatly bitter anger. "Their treachery began in secret, corruption spreading like a mold and a weed among their ranks. They shared it only with those they believed of the same mind. They were filled with such certainty that I would gladly, eagerly join their ranks when they made the offer. That I would be bought with a crown that was never in their right to bestow. When their betrayal was brought into the light, the True Watchers were disbanded, the loyal who remained welcomed back into the Hosts of Heaven."
Charlie sat quietly and thought about it. There were two kinds of 'Watchers' really, by the sound of it. The Watchers as a group, who were there to help the humans, but the Conspiracy within the Watchers plotting against Heaven. Assuming Abaddon was telling the truth, of course. That left an important question though, for Charlie. "I think I already know the answer, but...you said they were sent to Earth to protect humans. Protect them from what?" she asked hesitantly.
"You are correct. You know the answer," Abaddon confirmed. "The paths to Hell were not all that of metaphor in those days, Princess of the Pit, and they were not exclusive in the directions they allowed."
"Demons attacked humans, on Earth" Charlie summarized. "Heaven thinks...my parents sent them, don't they?"
"Thinks?" Abaddon retorted evenly.
Charlie glared at the grass. "Mom and Dad don't tell me a lot of things, but they did tell me what it was like when they first got to Hell. It was hard. The Demons didn't exactly welcome them. They had to fight just to survive. They didn't have control over all of Hell for a long time. And if it was easier to get to earth..."
"You presume to imply they could not control their own subjects?" Abaddon asked in dry amusement.
"Heaven can't control its own, though, right?" Charlie pointed out.
"Heaven doesn't control," Abaddon stated softly. "Only responds to choices made."
Charlie didn't know how to respond to that, because What Did That Even Mean!?
Abaddon looked up. "You are called back to the nest."
Charlie looked back and saw her father leaning over the balcony. He gave her a smile and a wave before giving Abaddon an unimpressed look.
Charlie looked back and found that Abaddon was already fading away.
"Farewell, for now, Ashen Heritrix."
Charlie watched as he vanished
Lucifer scuffed from where he stood. "Bastard is just pulling some of these titles out of his ass, I swear."
Extermination Day, 1940
"What happened?"
Adam raised an eyebrow at Charlie's so-called greeting. "The fuck that come from? Are you trying to be the tiny group mom or something?" Adam asked with a raised eyebrow.
Charlie looked from him to the Exorcist captains, plus Lute. They all looked very...worn. Almost like they hadn't slept in a few days. "E-Day hasn't started and you all look exhausted! I didn't even know angels could get tired!" Charlie said in surprise.
"Normally we don't, but put us under enough stress or use our powers too much, and we need a break," Lute said with a sigh.
"The wars on Earth are getting messy, and we were helping with an overflow of traumatized souls," Locria explained, sitting down and placing her head on the table. "I love kids, but I can't handle comforting another one right now. No offense, Hellflake."
"No, no, I under-..." Charlie blinked. "You help with children?"
"Lot of kids who die either have their parents still on Earth or, well, sent down here," Lydia explained as she sat on the table itself. "Cria here likes helping with Children, finding them a guardian or even new parent to welcome them. Normally she does, at least."
"She does still, she just needs a break," Mixolydia corrected for her twin, patting Locria on her back.
"I knew you had lives outside of extermination, but I didn't expect, well," Charlie trailed off uncertainly.
"That any of us were the motherly types?" Aeolia asked knowingly with her arms crossed. "To be fair, Locria was surprised too."
"We're all fucking waiting on Locria to get baby fever," Adam said with a grin.
"Let me guess, you're the one keeping track of the betting pool, Sir?" Locria asked with a deadpan, not bothering to raise her head.
"Nah, that's Lute," Adam gestured, Lute smirking in turn. "Did fucking sign your maternity papers in advance. Just need to date the shit."
"For a child I haven't even conceived, with a man I probably haven't met yet?" Locria pointed out flatly.
"Bitch, I know baby fever in the making, and you are it," Adam retorted.
"Thank you, I appreciate the thought at least," Locria said with an amused smile.
Charlie watched the exorcists talk and mingle, ever reminded the faceless slaughterers were in fact, people. People who thought they were right. Thought, or knew?
"Adam?" Charlie asked, looking up. "Can I ask you something? I want you to take it as seriously as you can."
"Hellflake, I take everything you ask me as seriously as I can," Adam answered, somewhere between joking and assurance.
Charlie smiled at that, but only for a moment. "A lot of the bad things humans do on Earth, they do because they think they're right, right?" Charlie started.
Adam nodded. "Yeah, most think it's for some Greater Good or something. Or say so to get their own fucked up ambitions going. Why?"
"How are the Exterminations any different?"
The room went silent, and Adam gave Charlie a look of consideration.
"How are you so sure that what you're doing is right, compared to what humans do on Earth? You've killed millions of human souls. And...and I get why you believe you have to, I do!" Charlie said quickly but kept her resolve. "But how...can you hate what the Sinners do and be so...gleeful about what you do to them in turn? How are you so positive that you're in the right?"
No one spoke, and Charlie almost thought they held their breath.
Adam leaned against the table with his arms crossed. "Let me ask your question with another. What the fuck happens if we stop?" Adam asked patiently.
Charlie opened her mouth but then thought. "Before, I just would have said' we'd keep overpopulating. But that's only...part of your concern. The Overlords would grow too strong with too many souls."
"And become Archfiends," Adam confirmed.
Several of the exorcists shifted uncomfortably at the title.
"Archfiend?" Charlie repeated in confusion.
'It's what we called it when a demon grew strong enough to overcome the Immanence of the average First Sphere angel," Lute explained grimly. "There hasn't been an Archfiend in over five thousand years."
Five thousand years ago. That seemed important to Charlie, somehow.
"We stop, New Archfiends come fuck shit up. And make no fucking mistake, they'll come to try and fuck up Heaven. And if they do, Hellflake, what happens? What happens if Heaven actually loses a war with Hell?" Adam challenged.
"I...don't know?" Charlie answered in worry.
"Then there are just two Hells," Adam said with a frown. "Two Afterlives, both of eternal suffering. No matter how good or bad someone was in life, they just end up in a wretched realm of suffering, run by these disgusting fucks. That, Hellflake, is what I'm fighting against. That, is how I know I'm right. Because I've seen what fucking happens when we leave this shithole alone. Because I know what happens when Hell is left unchecked."
"...And you can't trust my parents to keep it in check," Charlie deduced softly. It wasn't a question.
"Princess," Lute said. "It's not just Adam that feels that way."
Charlie glanced over and saw the Exorcists all looking very...disturbed, frustrated with the dark image Adam had conjured of a Victory for Hell.
"Hellflake?"
She looked back to Adam sharply.
"Your parents told you that the Exterminations was a Heartless decision," Adam said grimly. "And you want to find another way."
Charlie nodded slowly.
Adam took a deep breath. "Charlie? The exterminations were our last resort."
Charlie tried and tried to comprehend that but it just didn't set right. Because..."What was the first resort?"
"Trusting your parents."
End of Chapter
For the record, yes, that book is real. No, it's not important. I just found a book from the 1930s with a very fitting quote. And yes, among the Ars Goetia, there is a winged deer Earl called Furcifer, more commonly named Furfur.
Still, the chapter was a bit different. Didn't have much focus on WW2 shit, but you can see the strain and effect on people. Adam's busy, the angels are tired from helping souls in Heaven, Abaddon is lurking about as extra protection for Charlie, and lots more.
But we also got very conflicting stories on the Watchers. Lucifer says they were thrown out of Heaven like him. Lilith says they left to join with humans. Abaddon claims they tried to take over humanity. Either way, there was a war and they lost, their survivors living in Hell.
Also, yeah, Alastor killed a whelp of the Ars Goetia. This isn't like an Alastor vs Stolas, we know Stolas wins that. This is more akin to Alastor vs Octavia. And in the end, I don't think people really THINK about what it means for the Sinners of Hell to defeat Heaven- if they somehow did, it'd mean Heaven would just become another Hell. Which is horrifying to imagine.
Abaddon continues to be a mystery and Adam gives Charlie the best present- Hellflake Bookmarker!