Charlie's breath caught as the realization hit her like a punch to the gut. That sense of dread, of something familiar and wrong all at once—it wasn't just her imagination.
Adam.
Her vision blurred. Reality and memory overlapped. That cocky smirk on his face twisted, spreading wider than it should have, revealing sharp, yellow teeth that seemed too menacing for someone so... human.
But he wasn't human. Not anymore.
Adam's skin darkened, like ink swallowing his face, until his features dissolved into shadow. His once heterochromatic eyes, almost familiar, transformed into glowing yellow orbs, predatory and cold. Despite the horrifying change, that eerie glint of amusement stayed in his gaze, as if he was toying with her, enjoying her fear.
Her surroundings flickered—no longer on Earth. She was on the roof of the Hazbin Hotel. His hand was wrapped around her throat, squeezing tight, fingers digging into her skin. Her lungs burned for air as her vision blurred from the pressure, darkness closing in. She struggled, her body fighting for breath as his grip threatened to crush her.
Another blink, and just like that, the wilderness was back. The mountains, the river, the sky—untouched, raw, as if nothing had changed. Adam stood in front of her, his grin still plastered across his face, posture relaxed, but every part of him screamed power. He wasn't indifferent to her now—no, his presence pressed down on her like gravity, like he could crush her with just a thought.
Her powers flared under her skin, begging for release. She wanted to shield herself, to create a barrier between her and that suffocating presence. She could feel it bubbling up, a protective instinct. But his words echoed in her mind: "Bare their likeness in my face again, and I'll hurt you." A cold shiver ran down her spine, quelling her instincts before they could take over.
Calm.
The command rippled through her, and to her surprise, her body obeyed. Her breathing slowed, the tension drained out of her muscles, and her heart, still pounding, began to steady itself—almost like someone had flipped a switch inside her.
I've told you already. I am not your God; nor am I your Devil. So, let's keep calm.
Now calmer, Charlie looked at him again, really looked this time. His appearance had shifted back. The once-glowing cross on his chest had dulled, almost dormant now, barely distinguishable from a scar, letting her notice the small blue jewel at its center. His eyes had lost that earlier intensity, no longer predatory but now holding an amused glint, as if he was watching some private joke unfold in front of him.
He seemed... ordinary again—or at least as ordinary as someone with that kind of presence could be. Yet, something about him felt off, different from the last time she'd seen him. Back when he—!
Panic shot through her, rising like bile in her throat. It all came crashing back: what happened before she was brought to Heaven, what she was doing before Aunt Michael had attacked her and Vaggie.
Her dad. Half of his wings torn, bleeding, injured—helpless in Adam's hands.
Her aunt Bee, her uncle Satan—they had all been trying to help him while the people Charlie had fought for, the ones she had believed in, cheered for Adam. Cheered against her family. The people she wanted to save had sided with the man trying to destroy her world.
Her breath hitched, and fear twisted deep in her chest, gripping her heart like a vice. "Dad... what did you do to Dad?!" The words tumbled out, her voice trembling but full of desperate demand.
"What did I do to him?" Adam repeated, almost absently, as if weighing whether or not he should bother answering the question. He shrugged casually. "Nothing he didn't deserve." His tone was dismissive, but it had an edge to it. "But... the serpent still draws breath, if that's what you're asking."
Relief flooded Charlie's chest, loosening the iron grip that had seized her heart moments ago. Her body sagged slightly, the tension finally leaving her limbs as she took in Adam's words. Still alive. Her father was still alive.
Her shoulders slumped as she exhaled shakily, the knot of fear unwinding just enough for her to breathe again. "Thank God," she whispered under her breath, not caring if Adam heard the irony in her words.
But even in her relief, what he'd said lingered. The casual cruelty in his tone, the way he had shrugged off her father's suffering—it stung. He hadn't killed him, but that didn't mean he hadn't inflicted pain.
Charlie swallowed hard, her throat tight. She wanted to ask,What did you do to him? or Why... why are you doing this?
But she already knew. She'd seen it all. Her father's choices, the endless cycle of mistakes. Adam probably saw him as nothing more than another sinner, another creature to punish. No more, no less.
"...Thank you," she finally managed, though the words felt heavy. She wasn't sure if she was thanking him for sparing her father or just confirming to herself that it could have been worse.
Her voice wavered. "He's my dad... no matter what he's done." She didn't know what else to say, as if that simple truth was enough to explain the impossible depth of her love for him, despite everything. "I still love him."
"Your gratitude...you can keep it." Adam's gaze eased for just a moment, as if her words had hit something deep inside him. But it was fleeting, and his demeanor quickly reverted to its earlier, nonchalant calm. "I hadn't spared him on purpose," Adam muttered, his tone distant, almost detached. "I was merely distracted with someone else. Someone far more important."
Charlie fidgeted, her hands clasping together nervously. She bit her lip before speaking, her voice softer, almost unsure. "I know... but still, thank you. I'm glad you're alive." Her eyes lifted to meet his, earnest but uncertain like she was grappling with something heavier than her words could convey. "And for what it's worth... I'm sorry—for what my Mom and Dad did."
Adam raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "...Why are you apologizing for their sins?" His voice was calm but edged with confusion, like he couldn't quite understand her reasoning.
Charlie hesitated, the weight of her apology settling awkwardly between them. She dropped her gaze, her fingers twisting in her lap. "Because... I feel like I have to."
Because it's the right thing.
Because she's their daughter.
Because he deserved it.
And because her Parents never did.
Adam's eyes widened, just a fraction. His gaze pierced through her as if he were seeing someone else entirely in her place. It was a flicker—barely there for a breath, but long enough for Charlie to catch it. The rawness, the vulnerability, like a memory clawing its way back to the surface.
In that split second, it felt like she wasn't standing in front of the legendary Adam, the first man, the Not-All-King. She was standing in front of someone far more fragile, far more human than she could have ever imagined.
Just as quickly as it showed, it disappeared again, shutting out whatever momentary softness had slipped through.
"Is that so?" Adam's voice broke the silence, a faint hint of amusement lacing his tone. He turned his head, looking off toward the distant horizon with a small, almost wistful smile. whatever remnants of the intensity, the commanding presence she'd felt radiating from him just moments ago, vanished entirely, leaving behind a soothing calm. "Well, ain't that something."
Charlie's eyes followed Adam's distant gaze, roaming the clearing around her.
It was real, and it felt different—far less magical.
The mountains, jagged and towering, rose against the pale cloudy sky. There was no snow to soften their rough edges, just sharp, dark rock. They weren't beautiful—they looked unforgiving, harsh. The wind blew through the valley, dry and biting, carrying the grit of dust that stuck to her skin and stung her eyes. The frills of her white dress had already turned yellow.
The river wasn't the clear stream she'd imagined. It flowed dark and fast, swirling around rocks with a rough, relentless current. The banks were scattered with stones, jagged and uneven, and the water didn't sparkle. It churned, uncaring about anything that stood in its way.
The sun sat high, burning down with a heat that wasn't comforting. It was harsh, drying out the air and making it heavy. Everything about this place felt untouched, like no one had ever laid a hand on it. There were no trails, no signs of life, nothing familiar—just nature in its rawest form, unclaimed.
Charlie swallowed, the dust thick in her throat. This wasn't the kind of beauty she had been expecting. It was something else entirely—wild, untamed, and unwelcoming.
Above else, it felt almost...incomplete.
Metatron's words echoed in her mind, resurfacing:With the Garden ruined, and Heaven cracked, Jophiel, by the Lord's command, brought Adam and Eve down to the unfinished world, where they would toil and suffer. A land not yet ready, but one they would have to tame.
"Is this..." she hesitated, her voice small against the vastness around them. "Is this really where it all started?"
Adam's gaze slowly shifted back to her, his eyes narrowed just slightly, but there was no anger there—just a knowing look. "Yes," he said simply, his voice low and steady. "This is where it all began."
"It's different..." Charlie said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "From what Metatron showed us. It's... daunting."
Adam's brow twitched slightly at her words. "Hmm? Really?" He tilted his head, his tone more curious than dismissive. "He's not the type to embellish stuff. Maybe it was your excitement, seeing Earth for the first time, clouding your perception." He paused, eyes glinting with something almost reflective. "Or maybe this is just how I remember it. Or it could be both."
The wilderness stretched out before her—nothing like the tale Metatron had shown them. Maybe Adam was right, back then, she had been captivated, enamored by finally seeing what Earth looked like, her imagination filling in the gaps with wonder. But this wasn't a story anymore.
"Well, in the end, it matters little, I guess," Adam said with a nonchalant shrug.
Charlie's attention snapped back to him, and she found him sitting comfortably on a flat rock, lounging atop a large patch of sewn-together animal furs. The clothing he wore was rough, made from various animal skins, and crudely held together with plant fibers. It looked
far from comfortable, obviously amateurishly crafted, and yet... seeing him there, Charlie couldn't help but liken him to a king dressed in silks lined with gold.
He smiled in that same self-assured way, as though he actually believed the furs were just as regal.
Adam motioned for her to sit, his posture relaxed as if the whole scene was completely natural to him. Charlie straightened the back of her dress, smoothing out any wrinkles, before carefully lowering herself onto her knees, facing him.
"Have you eaten?" Adam asked lightly, breaking the silence.
Charlie shook her head, the weariness evident in her eyes.
"Me neither. Feel free to join me." Adam said with a shrug, and before she could blink, a large flat rock appeared between them. It was topped with palm leaves and scattered with... fruits? Her eyes narrowed.
They looked like fruits, but not quite like the ones she remembered. Her parents had given her Earth fruits before—fresh, vibrant, full of color and life. This... this was something else. These were misshapen and bruised, some of them in odd colors she didn't recognize.
Alongside them were crude chunks of cooked meat, still steaming, and a large flask with two crudely shaped wooden cups.
"Dig in," Adam said with a grin, pouring her a cup of reddish-brown liquid. He handed it to her with a practiced ease, his movements smooth and confident, as if hosting a banquet was second nature to him.
Charlie took the cup with both hands, eyeing the food in front of her. It didn't exactly look appetizing, but this Adam—while different from what she had expected—still gave off the impression of having a short, arbitrary fuse. She didn't want to risk setting him off over something as simple as refusing a meal.
Aside from that, She knew she couldn't refuse; that would be rude. At least I'll try a little of everything, she decided, giving herself a silent pep talk. Adam seemed so relaxed, so... casual about it all, and she didn't want to seem ungrateful.
Starting with the drink, she raised the cup to her lips and took a small sip. Oh no... Her gag reflex kicked in almost immediately. The taste was overwhelmingly sweet, like someone had dumped an entire jar of honey in water and then let it ferment. Charlie's throat tightened, but she forced herself to swallow, giving a small nod as if to say, Yeah, sure, this is totally fine.
Next, she reached for what looked like a small apple, hoping it would be more manageable. She took a tentative bite, only to be met with a bitter taste that made her eyes widen. Oh gosh, this is worse! But again, she powered through, chewing with exaggerated care before swallowing it down. Her face stayed neutral, but inside, she was screaming.
The last thing was the meat. It looked... charred, like instead of it being cooked over a fire, it was thrown in one that had gone out halfway through. She picked up a piece, taking a breath before biting into is it so tough? It was like trying to chew a piece of old leather. Worse yet, it tasted burnt and bland at the same time. No salt, no seasoning, just... scorched.
The food had not been as bad as it looked. It was somehow even worse. Charlie doubted that she had ever tasted a worse meal than this one.
Charlie gave Adam a tight-lipped smile, doing her best to appear polite. "Thank you, Adam," she said softly, her voice slightly strained. "It's... uh... different."
"Tastes like shit, right?" Adam laughed, the sound genuine and unexpectedly warm. It caught Charlie off guard. "Can't believe you kept eating."
"Yeah, it's... not exactly what I'm used to," she admitted, a small smile tugging at her lips as she relaxed slightly. "But I didn't want to be rude."
"You're something else, kid," Adam chuckled, shaking his head. Despite his words, Charlie couldn't help but notice how easily he ate the fruit and meat, washing it down with that reddish-brown drink, looking like he was enjoying every bite. The contrast was striking—he savored it like a delicacy, while she was barely getting through it.
"This here," he said, motioning to the meal with a casual flick of his hand, "is what Eve and I ate to celebrate surviving our first month. Back then, it felt like a damn feast."
Charlie blinked, surprised. "This? Really?"
Adam nodded, and for a moment, his expression softened, the sharp edges of his usual demeanor melting away. "Yeah. When you're out there, alone and just trying to survive, anything that doesn't kill you feels like a blessing. We didn't have much, but we were alive, and that was enough."
She looked at the meal again, her perspective shifting slightly. Maybe it wasn't just about the taste; maybe it was about what it symbolized.
Adam snapped his fingers, and with a sudden shift, her half of the rock transformed into a well-carved wooden table. The stone beneath them became a plush pink cushion on a vibrant red carpet. The spread of food flickered and was replaced with a much more appealing meal. The meat now smelled heavenly, the bright colors of the dishes enticing, and the red syrup turned into rich, fragrant wine. "There, that's more fitting for a princess," he said with a grin.
Charlie grabbed the wine cup in her hands but didn't take a sip. She merely looked at it. Thinking.
"...You're different," Charlie said softly, after a moment of quiet contemplation. The words slipped out before she fully realized it.
Adam paused mid-bite, his gaze settling on her with something unreadable flickering in his eyes. He didn't seem surprised—more like he was waiting for her to elaborate, though it was hard to tell what he was thinking.
"You're less of an...asshole, I guess." Charlie cringed at her words.
"An asshole, huh?" Adam repeated with a dry chuckle, his voice low and casual. "I can't say I'm too shocked by that. Guess I didn't leave the best impression."
Charlie shifted awkwardly, biting her lip as she tried to find the right words. "No, you didn't," she admitted, a hint of reluctance in her voice. "But... I get it. I mean, after everything with my parents, the Fall, and, well, Roo—" She faltered, the weight of that name sitting heavy on her tongue, "—you had every reason to be angry. It was just... easier for me to see you as this... bad guy. Like this figure that represented everything wrong with Heaven."
Adam resumed his eating, his posture casual yet somehow attentive. "And now?"
She hesitated, her eyes lifting to meet his. "Now... you seem different. Less like the guy from the stories and more like..." Her voice wavered as she searched for the right words, "more like a person."
Adam nodded, and though he didn't speak, there was a quiet patience in his expression. He waited, letting her fumble through her thoughts without rushing her.
"I guess I'm just..." Charlie fidgeted with her hands, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup nervously. "I don't know. It's like... I thought I knew who you were, but now I'm not sure. It's confusing. I'm trying to figure it out, but it's like I can't put it into words."
Her voice wavered slightly, frustration leaking into her tone as she let out a small, defeated sigh. "Sorry. I'm probably not making any sense."
Adam watched her for a moment, his expression eased as he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. He seemed to mull over her words before shrugging, a small, almost sheepish smile tugging at his lips. "Not really sure what you want me to say, kid," he said, his tone uncharacteristically light.
"I'm just...I don't think... The 'you' from before didn't seem like the type who would heal Vaggie." She glanced at him, a small, grateful smile tugging at her lips. "Which I'm really thankful for, by the way!" she added quickly, her words rushing out.
"Oh, that's what you mean," Adam said, nodding as he casually picked up a fig. "Don't take it the wrong way. I wasn't making a grand gesture or anything. I just wanted to bury the hatchet. Having her and Lute at each other's throats would've been a real damn headache."
Charlie blinked, the smile fading slightly. She had expected something more profound. His indifferent tone caught her off guard, like it didn't matter much to him. "Oh," she murmured, fidgeting with her fingers. "I guess I thought it was... more than that."
Adam shrugged, taking another bite, unfazed. "Don't get me wrong, kid, I'm glad she's better. I really am, but I wasn't trying to make amends or anything. Sure, tearing her eye and wings off was a bit much—anger got the better of me—but sending her to Hell wasn't necessarily the wrong call."
Her brow furrowed, and she frowned deeply. "What do you mean?" There was something unsettling about his casual attitude toward what had happened.
Adam sighed, glancing away as if searching for the right words. "How do I put this nicely… Your girlfriend was fucked the moment she spared that sinner." He paused, his tone more serious now. "That shit would have kicked off a chain reaction. She started playing in a game that's way bigger than her, with rules she didn't fully get."
Charlie's frown deepened.
Adam raised an eyebrow, as if weighing how to explain. "Your girlfriend didn't tell you about Heaven's internal structure?"
"I..uh..didn't ask." Charlie shook her head, signaling she was lost on this front
He did not look convinced.
"Alright, let me break it down for you," Adam began, leaning back slightly. "Heaven's primarily inhabited by two types of beings—well, three, but the tenders are a whole different story. The main groups are Heaven-born and Winners. Winners are basically the opposite of sinners. They're my children who didn't screw up too badly and made it to Heaven. They're what you'd consider 'good,'" he said with a puffed chest and a wry smile.
The princess nodded. That much she knew.
"Your little girlfriend is Heaven-born. And despite the name, they're not actually born in the usual sense. Higher angels are created directly by the Lord, while the two-winged angels are made by the Archangels using feathers from their own wings. Exorcists, for example, are made from the Taxiarch's feathers."
"The Taxiarch?" Charlie tilted her head, clearly confused.
"Michael, you've met her." Adam clarified with a nod. "She's the one responsible for creating Exorcists. Her feathers are used for that purpose. The whole system is pretty intricate and, as you can see, doesn't exactly allow for a lot of flexibility."
Charlie listened closely, trying to piece together the hierarchy Adam was describing. The concept of Heaven's structure was new to her, and it was a lot to take in. So the Archangels were like her uncles and aunts, the Sins, and how they influenced Hellborn, except more literally.
Adam shrugged, looking a bit more relaxed as he set down his food. "Alright, let me simplify it. Heaven-born like Vaggie have specific roles. They're not just made for kicks—they have
responsibilities. When she spared that sinner, she went against what she was supposed to do, and Heaven takes that kind of thing seriously. Heaven doesn't like it when someone's out of line, especially when the balance of the universe is at stake."
Charlie's frown deepened. "So, what? She was already in trouble before you even got involved?"
"Yep," Adam said with a grimace. "Even if I turned a blind eye, Metatron or Uriel would've seen it. If I hadn't dealt with it, Heaven would've put her on trial. The court would be packed with other exorcists and those itching to raise Hell. They'd judge her actions, which would cast doubt on me and Sera. The whole Corps would face scrutiny. And she would be against people way meaner than me."
Charlie's eyes widened, absorbing the gravity of Adam's explanation. "That sounds... rough. I didn't realize it was such a big deal."
"Welcome to the big leagues," Adam said with a wry smile, taking a sip of his drink. "Heaven's got its own set of rules, and they don't mess around."
"But let's stay optimistic for a second and assume Vaggie just gets kicked out of the Corps, ignoring how a disgruntled former exorcist walking around is a huge security risk. Adam's expression darkened slightly as he continued, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of gravity.
"Even then, what do you think will happen when the Taxiarch finds out? Michael's strength is only surpassed by her zeal and pride. She personally crafted Vaggie, and modeled her after herself. How do you think she'll react when one of her feathers is accused of betraying Heaven?"
Charlie's heart sank, and the chill in his voice only added to the dread settling in her chest. She could already feel the implications of what he was saying.
"Michael already scorns herself for what happened with Roo—her job was to watch over it, and it was her twin's action that ruined all Creation. That shit has stayed with her. And she's a lot of things, but merciful? Merciful she is not."
Charlie gulped unconsciously, the memory of her aunt Michael's cold, sharp sword pressed against her throat flashing before her eyes. The pain, the fear—it all came rushing back. She shuddered, instinctively wrapping her arms around herself as if trying to ward off the lingering sensation
Adam shrugged casually, a hint of nonchalance in his demeanor. "Luckily, my cruelty and avoidance of paperwork seemed to work out for her, if your girlfriend is to be believed."
Charlie's gaze fell, her fingers nervously fidgeting with her cup. What he said was true—if Vaggie hadn't fallen, she wouldn't have ended up in Hell, and Charlie never would have met her. But Adam's casual tone, as if it were all just a matter of convenience, struck a discordant note with her.
But on the topic of her Aunt...
Taking a deep breath, Charlie's voice emerged soft and fragile. "I was happy, you know... when I realized she was my aunt. Michael, I mean."
Adam remained silent, his attention focused on the cup in his hand as he swirled the contents thoughtfully, listening without interruption. "I never actually knew Dad had a family," she continued, her eyes cast down. "The book just referred to the Archangels as Elders. I didn't think he had siblings." Her fingers fidgeted in her lap, nervously twisting the edge of her sleeve. "But when I met her, she... she beat me up. Kept calling me the Child of Sin. But then she healed me and threw me here." She hesitated, a lump forming in her throat. "Does she hate me?"
Adam's response came quickly, his voice devoid of hesitation. "She despises you. They all do. Except Emily, I think."
Charlie nodded slowly, feeling the weight of Adam's words settle in her chest. It wasn't exactly a surprise, but hearing it confirmed so bluntly made it harder to ignore. "Oh... because of my parents?"
"Yeah," Adam said, his voice steady but edged with weariness. "It's not easy to separate the past from the present. When I look at you, I see them. Especially your mom."
Charlie's gaze fell to her lap, her fingers nervously twisting the edge of her sleeve. "I guess that makes sense."
Adam let out a sigh. "Sorry about that, by the way. From now on, I'll try to hate you for who you are." He chuckled softly, though a trace of sadness lingered in his voice. "Your parents really messed things up for a lot of people. I lost my wife and kids. The angels... they lost the most precious thing they had— the Lord's trust."
He paused, looking at Charlie with a contemplative expression, rubbing his chin. "But then again... I guess they do hate you for being you." Charlie blinked, clearly confused. "What? I don't remember ever doing anything to offend them." Hell, she never even met them until recently. She tried to think back, wondering if it was something from when she was younger—maybe calling angels "a bunch of buttheads" when her mom read her stories. But surely they weren't that petty, right? Sera didn't seem the type. Michael... well, Michael did seem like the type who hold a grudge over something stupid.
Adam's tone grew serious, cutting through her thoughts. "You're an abomination, and your whole existence is a mistake."
Charlie stared at him, her mouth slightly agape, struggling to process the harsh words. She had thought they were starting to understand each other, but this felt like a blow. "That was... really harsh," she said slowly, her voice quivering slightly.
Adam's eyes widened with a hint of regret as he saw her reaction. "Oh no, I'm not insulting you," he said quickly. "I mean, literally and logically, you shouldn't exist."
Charlie's eyes widened at his bluntness. "I see..." she said, her voice faltering. "That really... isn't much better."
Adam leaned forward slightly, his expression becoming more intense. "You know what a Nephilim is, right?"
Charlie nodded hesitantly.
"Well, you're one," Adam continued, his voice carrying a somber weight. "And that shouldn't be possible. Big G made sure that no angel and human—whether a winner or a sinner—could conceive again. Plus, Raphael made it so that your... whorish mother was cursed to never bear children. Yet here you are, clearly your parents' child."
Charlie's face drained of color as she processed Adam's revelation. Her hands tightened on the edge of her seat, knuckles white from the force. "So, what you're saying is," she began, her voice barely more than a whisper, "I'm... a mistake. I shouldn't exist according to Heaven's rules and the curses on my parents. Is that why they brought me here?!" Adam's tone remained disturbingly nonchalant, as if he were discussing the weather. "Pretty much. At first, they figured I'd take out my frustration on you since I couldn't kill your dad. I'd hurt him in another way. A little revenge fantasy, you know? But then, they saw you as a sign that the apocalypse was coming. They figured if I killed you, it'd be the start of the End Times and Judgment Day."
Charlie's heart raced, the gravity of Adam's words sinking in. She shook her head in disbelief, trying to process what she was hearing. "That's... that's insane!" They wanted to kill me? I thought they just wanted to talk or something! What the fuck, Heaven?! "You're supposed to be the good guys!
Adam shrugged, his expression cool and detached. "Yeah, it's pretty messed up. The Seraphim tend to get a bit dramatic whenever they meet about these things. one or two of them are calm, but you throw in a few others, and things escalate quickly. But, you know, plans change. That's just how it goes."
"Are—are you going to... k-kill me?" Charlie stammered, her eyes wide with dread as she pushed the plate of food away, her hands trembling. "Did you... did you put poison in it? This isn't some trap, right? You didn't bring me here just to watch me choke to death, did you?"
Adam gave her a half-smile, his voice more reassuring than before. "Killing you isn't on my to-do list. I've already made sure the Seraphim won't touch you. And there's no End of Times coming anytime soon. I just wanted to talk."
Charlie took a shaky breath, her gaze flickering between Adam and the untouched food. "So... I'm safe? For now?"
"Mhm," he nodded.
She relaxed a little, but the wariness didn't leave her eyes. "But—why the sudden concern for me? And why here?"
"Maybe I'm not as eager to play the villain as I used to be," Adam replied. "As for this place... I wanted to show you where it all began, but Enoch's already done that. So, I guess, it's for me. Wanted to test something, but mostly..." He smiled, a genuine softness to his expression. "I guess you could say this is my Happy Place."
"Okay..." She shook her head slightly, blinking as she processed Adam's words. It was strangely comforting to think that even an Almost-God like him needed a place to escape to. Shaking off her musings, she asked, "What did you actually want to talk about?" He put down his drink, and Charlie felt an echo of the Presence he emitted return.
Adam's smile faded into something more thoughtful, his gaze drifting before locking back onto her. "What I wanted to talk about? I guess... it's about your hotel." he echoed, leaning back slightly. His expression grew serious, his eyes intense. " Why do you want to help the
trash and heathens of Hell? You're a princess, both your station and power are far above theirs. You could spend eternity without ever having to look at them."
Charlie's eyes narrowed slightly at Adam's harsh words, but she held her ground. She wasn't sure if he was genuinely curious or just trying to get under her skin. Either way, she answered with the conviction that always stirred inside her when it came to the hotel.
"They're not trash," she said firmly, locking eyes with him. "They're souls. And I don't think it's right to write them off forever just because they're in Hell. You've been down there long enough to see how messed up it is. Don't they deserve a real chance to redeem themselves?"
Adam's expression hardened, his response just as firm. "They already had their chance on Earth, kid. They had years to fix their shit, and they still blew it. Hell isn't somewhere you end up by accident." His glare deepened, challenging her to argue back.
She took a deep breath. "I know They've messed up, sure, but... so has everyone, right? And I don't think it's fair to write them off forever just because they made some mistakes b-" Charlie started, but he cut her off.
"What they did was not a fucking 'mistake'!" he snapped, his voice growing louder and more forceful. Charlie flinched at the sudden shift in Adam's tone "Spilling a drink is a mistake. Mistaking salt for sugar is a mistake. Those fuckers down there sinned."
His words carried an intensity that made her blood run cold, his frustration barely concealed beneath the surface.
"Do you know what the difference is? A sin is the antithesis of humanity. It's not just some accident—it's a choice. It's knowing that what you're about to do will hurt someone, ruin someone, and doing it anyway. It's intentional. Sin is ugly. It leaves a stain on the soul that no one—not even entering Heaven—can wash off."
Charlie swallowed hard and met his gaze. Her ears registered the sound of raging thunder in the distance.
"So don't you ever compare murder, rape, torture, slavery, or genocide to a simple mistake," he warned with a serious voice. "These people have blood on their hands—suffering they chose to inflict. That's why they're here. That's why they're damned."
He spat the word out like it left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Charlie's heart raced, her voice shaky but determined. "I-I get it, okay? I know what they've done. But... doesn't that mean they need help more than ever? Isn't there a chance, even the smallest one, that they can change?" Her hands trembled as she spoke, but her gaze didn't waver. "If we just write them off, then what's the point of trying to make things better? If we give up on them, what does that say about us?"
"Why is it the responsibility of the winners to care about them?" Adam said with a scowl, his tone growing more detached. "Why should the innocent victims have to pay twice—first in suffering, and then in forgiveness? Why should the ones who were hurt the most carry the burden of redeeming those who hurt them?"
Charlie hesitated, biting her lip as she searched for the right words. "Because... isn't that what forgiveness is about?" Her voice softened, but there was a quiet strength behind it. "It's not for the people who deserve it—it's for the ones who don't. It's for us, too. For the ones who are left with the hurt. If we can't forgive, how do we move on? How do we heal?" "So we're all just supposed to... 'forgive and forget,' huh?" Adam's gaze drifted, becoming distant as his voice lowered, raw and full of something deep. "I was the first to make it to Heaven, you know. The First Winner." He let out a dry, hollow chuckle. "I was ecstatic. Beyond belief. Happy that I didn't screw up. But underneath all that joy, there was... relief. A huge sense of relief."
"Relief?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
"Aye, relief. Relief from knowing that forgiving those who wronged you wasn't a condition to enter Heaven." Adam's expression darkened, the weight of something long buried flickering in his eyes. "Yeah. Because I didn't forgive them. Not the ones who tore everything apart. Not the ones who stole my kingdom. Not even the ones who hurt my family." He leaned forward, his voice dropping into a near-growl. "I never forgave them, and I never will."
She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came. Forgiveness seemed like a natural part of being in Heaven—something that pure souls did instinctively. But that was wrong. The man in front of her was more than enough proof. "But... isn't that what Heaven is about?" she asked, her voice shaky but determined. "Forgiveness, redemption, all of that?"
Adam's laugh was sharp, like the crack of glass. "Fuck no! Hell, some fuckers are down there because Winners refused to forgive them before death. So you can bring out all your color drawings and your songs. It doesn't change the fact that some people aren't worthy of it. Some don't deserve it. Which reminds me."
Adam leaned in too closely, the table between them disappearing. "How exactly did you plan on deciding who's worthy and who isn't? Or did you have some grand scheme to just wave a magic wand and make everyone deserving of redemption? How would you know who's actually hoping to change and who's just playing you for a fool? Like that crack-addicted whore spider you've got, for example." Charlie's face flushed with anger, but she forced herself to keep her voice steady. "Angel Dust has been trying—he's really trying to change!"
Adam's laughter sliced through the tension like a knife. His tone dripped with mockery, almost gleeful in its cruelty. "You think a whore throwing a tantrum at a pimp means he's ready for redemption? Hah! It's funny how these so-called righteous deeds only surface when it's convenient, when it's to save his own skin. Sorry to burst your bubble, brat, but hypocrisy doesn't impress me."
"Angel did everything on that list you made!"
"A list I pulled out of my ass on the spot?!" Adam leaned back closer, a taunting smile on his face with arms spread. "You think it's that simple? If I made a new one right now, it'd be a list of reasons why your so-called plan isn't worth the paper it's printed on. Want to hear it?"
Charlie's eyes widened, her anger and fear mixing as she faced the harsh words. "What—what do you mean?"
Adam thrust his hands in Charlie's direction, his eight fingers extended like a grim countdown. "Let's see. Number one: Self-interest pretending to be virtue. Number two: Promises with no real follow-through. Number three: The same old tricks in a new disguise. Number four: Efforts that only appear when convenient. Number five: Actions driven by self-interest, not real change. Number six: Seeking validation instead of making progress. Number seven: Old patterns hidden under a new face. Number eight: Broken promises repackaged as new. Number nine: He's still a goddamn crack-addicted whore!"
He fixed her with a hard stare, his voice cutting through the storm's roar. "You'll notice most of these are basically the same idea, just worded differently. That's what you're doing. You keep giving the same vague, half-hearted answers to every question. Redemption isn't magic. It's not about ticking boxes or making empty promises."
Charlie's throat tightened, She had always believed in fairness and the chance for everyone to be redeemed. She had fought so hard to prove that even the worst souls could find their
way to light. "I—I thought that... that everyone deserved a chance," she stammered, her voice trembling. "That maybe... maybe if they saw a spark of hope, they could change."
Adam's expression grew colder, his voice unyielding. "A spark of hope? That's your criteria for redemption? What about those who've committed unforgivable acts? Those who enjoyed depriving others of that spark of hope. Are they just supposed to get a free pass because someone like you decided they should have a chance? How are you going to deal with them?"
Charlie's eyes welled with tears as she fought to hold her ground. "I have rules for my hotel! I'm not just going to le-let them walk all over me and do whatever they want. They have to promise to stay away from sin, and they need to participate in bonding and redemption activities!" Her voice cracked, the weight of her conviction pressing down on her. "I'm trying to give them a chance to change, to show that they can be better."
"And if they don't?" He growled at her.
"T-then I'll kick them out!" Charlie's voice wavered, her tears threatening to spill.
"But what if they come back promising not to do it again?" Adam pressed, his tone relentless. "Do they still get a chance, or is it a one-time deal? What if they mess up again? What if the third time's the charm? or is it the fourth? Shame, it was actually the ninth! If only you didn't kick them out! What if they're just playing you for a fool?"
Charlie's breath came in ragged gasps as she tried to respond, her hands trembling. The winds have picked up, the cold biting into her skin."I—I want to believe that people can change. That even if they slip up, they can try again. But... but I have to hold them accountable, too!" Adam's voice turned more insistent. "What if a sinner who hurt one of your residents comes asking for redemption, but the one who was hurt doesn't want them to get a second chance? How do you balance the needs of your residents with your belief in redemption?"
She struggled to find an answer, her voice cracking under the pressure. "I—I don't know. It's hard to... to balance everything. I want to give them a chance, but I also have to consider the hurt they've caused. It's not easy...If they showed remorse..."
"Stop giving vague answers, Charlie!" Adam's groan was loud. Hail began to pummel down from the darkened sky, each icy shard adding to the chaos "Remorse? That's another word they toss around. But what about the ones who don't feel remorse? The ones who think they did nothing wrong? Are they still deserving? Or do they deserve to get left behind?"
The entire realm seemed to shake. The mountains trembled violently, and the ground ripped apart with a deafening roar.
Charlie's resolve finally began to crack. Her voice was barely a whisper, her tears now flowing freely. "I—I don't know. I'm trying to do my best, but... it's hard to judge everyone. It's hard to know who's really sincere and who's just playing a game."
Adam's expression remained stern, but there was a trace of something like pity in his eyes. "It's easy to believe in redemption when you're not the one making the tough calls. But when it comes down to it, can you truly handle the consequences of your idealism?"
As if in response, a massive lightning bolt tore through the sky, striking the earth with a blinding flash and a deafening crack that was overshadowed by Charlie's cry.
"I don't know!"
Charlie's breath caught in her throat, tears welling in her eyes. "I don't know" she repeated, her voice cracking with frustration and despair. "I don't know how to handle this! I don't know what gets people into Heaven or if they're even telling the truth!
I don't know if my efforts are enough or if I'm just spinning my wheels! I don't know if I'm making a difference or if I'm just fooling myself! I don't know how to fix everything or how to be the person everyone needs me to be!"
Adam's anger flared, his voice echoing with a force that made the Earth and Sky quake. "Then why do you bother?!"
"Because someone has to!" Charlie's shoulders slumped, the weight of the world seeming to press down on her. Her voice broke with the strain of her emotions. "Because...becasue even those in Hell need someone to give a damn about them..."
As the final words left her lips, the storm around them began to calm slowly. The lightning faded into distant rumbles, and the hail diminished to a gentle rain. The winds subsided into a soft breeze, and the first rays of sunlight began to pierce through the clouds.
Adam clapped his hands with a cheer. "Great fucking answer! Ten out of ten! Exactly, you don't know shit!"
Charlie didn't raise her head, exhaustion and frustration weighing heavily on her. She was done with the whole ordeal and had no desire to see his mocking face. "Why did you even bring me here if all you're going to do is mock me?"
"Because you don't know!" He repeated with a voice that held no trace of scorn, but instead an almost strange happiness. "All this time, you were nothing but an Arrogant Little Shit who thought she knew it all!" He let out a deep, genuine laugh, but there was no cruelty behind it. "And it is the duty of this Benevolent Elder to show upstart brats like you their place!"
Charlie said nothing, glaring at her feet.
Adam grinned, clearly amused by her defiance. "Oh, don't be so bitter," he said, standing up straighter, his arms spreading wide as if he were delivering a grand announcement. "I brought you here to remind you that you don't have all the answers. And now, here you are, admitting it. You're confused, overwhelmed, and struggling. That's what makes this moment so... satisfying."
Charlie glared at him, her jaw tightening. "You find this satisfying?" she snapped, her voice tinged with disbelief. ""You dragged me here, mocked me, and tore apart everything I'm trying to build... just for some twisted lesson on humility?"
"Yes!" he replied with a lightness that almost seemed inappropriate "Because now you know. Now you understand how little you actually control. And there's freedom in that! Freedom in admitting you don't know what the hell you're doing."
Charlie's fists clenched in her lap. The storm had subsided, leaving behind the quiet echo of his laughter as Charlie sat there, too drained to respond. She was ready for this conversation to end, yet it seemed Adam wasn't finished.
"Now that the pecking order has been established..." Charlie felt his index finger under her chin, lifting her gaze to meet his. "I suppose congratulations are in order. Rejoice, Charlie! You were right, and I was wrong."
Charlie scowled, irritation flashing across her face as she swatted his hand away. "What are you on about?"
Adam's grin widened, his eyes glinting with a flicker of amusement. "A miracle has occurred," he began, dragging out the moment, clearly savoring the suspense. "A soul has been redeemed."
Her frown deepened, confusion starting to mingle with her irritation. "Wait, what?" Charlie blinked, trying to process what he was saying.
Adam leaned in just enough for his grin to soften into something almost... sincere. "Sir Pentious has made it into Heaven."
It took a second for Charlie to grasp the meaning of his words. When it hit her, her eyes went wide, her jaw nearly dropping. "No way... Sir Pentious? Sir Pentiousmade it?" Her voice cracked with disbelief, but it was quickly followed by something else—hope, and joy bubbling beneath the shock.
"He actually—he really did it?" she repeated, her hands gripping the edge of the table as if steadying herself against the sheer surprise.
The last time she saw Sir Pentious, Adam had blasted him into oblivion. She thought he was gone. They all did. But now... now Adam was standing there, telling her that Pentious wasn't dead. He hadn't been obliterated, he hadn't been left to rot in the ashes of Hell—he had made it to Heaven. He was redeemed.
She quickly grabbed Adam by the collar and brought his face to hers, her smile wide and uncontainable. "You're not lying, are you? This isn't a another sick joke."
"Nope," Adam said, body turning to honey and slipping between her fingers.
Charlie's heart raced, a smile slowly creeping onto her face as the realization hit her fully. "He went to Heaven?"
Charlie's laughter bubbled up, a pure sound of relief and triumph. "I—I can't believe it!" She set her hands on the table, trembling with excitement. "He did it. Sir Pentious... he actually did it." Her voice wavered, the words making the victory all the more real. "It works! My hotel works!"
Adam's smile faltered, his lips thinning into a serious line. "...Does it, though?" he said, his tone flat.
Charlie's excitement dimmed slightly, a frown creasing her brow. "What do you mean? He made it to Heaven! That proves it's working, right?"
"That proves redemption is possible, sure." Adam countered."But it's just as likely that my killing him was the reason he made it, as it is that your hotel had anything to do with it." His tone was matter-of-fact. "We've already established that you're kind of throwing shit at the wall and seeing what sticks."
"But it's a start!" Charlie insisted, her voice trembling with desperation. "I—I get it. But it's not just about one success; this proves it's possible! That means there's hope! If I could talk to him, maybe—"
"Hold your horses." Adam cut her off with a raised hand. "Sir Pentious is in containment until we figure out how it happened. What matters to you right now is that I'm willing to support your little hotel."
. "You... you're going to help? Like... sponsor it or something? You wouldn't attack us on Exter—!" Charlie's eyes widened " Exterminations! Are they still happening? Sir Pentious proved that redemption—But we need them for Roo—"
"The Exterminations are gone," Adam interjected firmly. "Roo won't be a problem for long."
Charlie's face lit up, and she let out a joyful squeal. "Really? That's amazing!" This was everything she ever wanted! it felt like all her dreams were within reach.
Adam raised a hand to calm her. "What I'm suggesting is a... partnership, at least until we get a better understanding of the situation. The Sinners are, after all, my children and responsibility. And, as much as it pains me to admit, I've been a very negligent father." His tone was patient, almost somber. "You don't know how to differentiate between those who are genuinely trying to change and those who are just faking it. You don't know who is truly remorseful and who is unrepentant. I do."
"So you'll help us figure out who's for real and who's just pretending?" Charlie nodded slowly, absorbing his words. "Exactly," Adam confirmed. "You focus on your hotel and the work you're doing—bonding exercises, plays, and whatnot. I'll will be the one to bring in the people who are ready to try redemption."
"What about my friends? The ones already in the hotel?" Charlie hesitated, a new concern surfacing.
"They'll have to go through the same screening as everyone else," Adam said. "If I find them lacking, I'll have to remove them until they're truly ready to try."
Charlie's expression turned uneasy. "You're not going to... sabotage them, are you?"
Adam's gaze was steady and reassuring. "If you're worried I'm holding a grudge, don't be. I'll treat them the same way I treat every other sinner—without personal bias. But if your trust in them isn't misplaced, they'll have no trouble returning to the hotel."
Charlie knew she should be thrilled by Adam's support, and part of her was. But a nagging unease settled in her chest. The way he spoke—so clinical and detached—rubbed her the wrong way. It wasn't the first time. He'd say something nice, but it always seemed layered with something...dark.
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "You haven't really told me how you're going to do this. I mean, you mentioned screening them and making sure they're genuinely trying, but how exactly are you going to do that? What's your process?"
Adam's expression remained inscrutable. "It's a thorough process," he said smoothly. "But it's less about this or that and more about ensuring that all sinners feel true remorse and regret their actions."
Charlie's heart raced, her unease growing. "And you're going to make sure that everyone is treated fairly?"
"Fairly, yes," Adam replied, his gaze steady. "Equally, no."
Charlie's brows furrowed "What do you mean by that?"
Adam's lips curved into a faint, enigmatic smile. "Fairness is about judging each soul individually. Equality, on the other hand, means that all souls are on the same level of corruption, which we both know is wrong. Some are further along the path, while others...need a bit more of incentive."
Charlie's unease deepened, a chill creeping up her spine. "You still haven't told me how."
Adam's face remained neutral as he spoke. "Charlie, Hell is, first and foremost, a place of punishment. As much as it pains me, my children have been hurting each other for far too
long. It's my duty as a father to discipline and punish them. And a recent event taught me that Fear and Despair are great incentives to make even the Devil repent."
Charlie's breath caught in her throat. "W-What are you talking about?" The oppressive presence he had emitted earlier was starting to seep back into her senses. "What did you do to Dad?!"
Adam's expression shifted slightly, though his tone remained calm. "I've brought you here to congratulate you, and to educate you... and to give you a message to deliver."
Charlie's eyes widened, her heart pounding. "What... message?"
"When you return to Hell..." Adam's voice dropped to a low, chilling whisper that seemed to make her skin crawl. Charlie watched in a mix of horror and awe as twelve wings materialized from Adam's back. His eyes, once two, blinked and became six. "Tell my children that their father is quite cross with them."
As the words left his lips, Charlie felt a shiver deep in her soul. A golden binding chain emerged from her chest, wrapping around Adam's fingers. Desperate to focus on anything other than the imposing figure before her, she noticed a portal to Pentagram City forming beneath her feet. "Tell them," Adam's voice dropped lower, his eyes widening with a chilling intensity, "that I will return soon. And when I do... they will know the meaning of True Hell."
"We'll sort out the details later." He released the golden chain with a smile, and Charlie's body was pulled through the portal. Her last view was of Adam's imposing figure, his twelve wings casting dark shadows as she was whisked away. He yelled after her with a cruel laugh. "Tell your mother that I haven't forgotten about her!"
Adam let out a deep sigh as the world he had created whisked away into nothingness, bringing him back to Zebul, the Sixth Heaven. He had considered other approaches, but this was the most suitable Path to achieve his goal.
A part of him grumbled and seethed at the thought of prolonging his actions, but despite his frustrations, it seemed his body still hadn't finished settling. With a frustrated groan, he reached behind his back and ripped off the wings that had been bothering him. Metatron's warning was still fresh in his mind.
The universe didn't seem keen on letting him be at ease.
He would need to wait a few days to regain control of his new strength. The erratic response of his wings and eyes—symptoms of his considerably shorter temper—made it clear that he wasn't yet fully adjusted.
His senses, too, seemed off. The golden chains he had used were meant to anchor his children's souls to him, preventing their Death and sealing any lingering influence from Eve Chavah.
But Charlie was none of those things.
She was a child of the Serpent and his Whore. He had verified it.
Whatever kinship he had felt toward her, whatever blood called out to him, was a falsehood.
It had to be.
Shaking his head to clear away the meaningless thoughts, Adam turned and moved forward. He still had a Hell to rip in two, friends to apologize to, sons to greet, daughters to hug, and soldiers to lead.
And above all, he had a crazy Eldritch God-Wife to deal with.
Well, there you have it—the first conversation between Kadmon and CharChar. Obviously, not everything was addressed in this exchange, or it would've turned into pure exposition (which it already borders on). They'll definitely have another talk later, but for now, the plot needs to move forward.
Also, I love the parallels! Lucifer and Charlie are in an inverted situation of Adam and Cain.