Seth jumped from his position atop the billboard, avoiding the massive horde of sinners smashing into the building and reducing it to rubble. A moth lookalike tried to stab him in the air, only to receive a blade to the throat. Blood sprayed in a crimson arc as the sinner fell lifelessly from the sky.

[Are you done?]

The horde surged forward, a writhing mass of bodies, claws, teeth, and blades. Seth landed gracefully amidst the chaos, his spear flashing as he began to mow through them with ruthless efficiency. A mantis-like sinner lunged at him, only to be cut into several parts mid-air.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance at his last attack. He intended to cut the last sinner into six parts, not three.

Seth's movements were slowing down again.

A snarling sinner lunged at him, its claws aiming for his throat. Seth sidestepped with fluid grace, driving his spear into its chest and ripping upwards, disemboweling it in a spray of dark blood. He spun, decapitating another sinner that tried to blindside him, its head rolling away with a look of frozen surprise.

He tasted blood in his mouth. His left index finger and thumb were unresponsive.

A three-headed brute roared and charged, but Seth met it head-on. He ducked beneath its snapping jaws, his spear slicing through one neck, then another. The brute collapsed, its remaining head gurgling pitifully before he silenced it with a swift thrust through the eye.

[Workin' as fast as we can, mate! Can't help that she tries to teleport every two damn seconds] Mammon's exasperated answer resounded inside the mindscape of Seth's thoughts. [Damn cunt had 'em scattered around the whole fuckin' Hell.]

Seth launched himself in Lilith's direction, blade in hand. The horde of sinners continued to swarm around him, but he cut through them with ruthless efficiency, barely slowing his pace. Bodies piled up in his wake, blood spraying as his spear cleaved through flesh and bone.

[Some are bloody automatic, so-!]

[Don't go for fatal damage or push too hard,] Seth cut him off with a frown. [We need her to use her magic, but not too much to interfere with your work. Just enough to reveal her hand.] He knew he had to strike a balance—too little pressure and she wouldn't reveal her true power, keeping her core out of Seth's reach; too much and she might get scared and focus on just running away while Seth's too busy keeping his body from collapsing.

Till now, Lilith still believed herself to be able to kill him, but with the condition that she must focus all her attention on him. For now, she was likely thinking that Mammon was just solely focused on shutting off her gates, and absolutely nothing else. Certainly nothing like isolating this place for the other rings.

As soon as he reached her glowing form, he swung his blade horizontally.

Lilith moved with surprising speed, numerous conjured spears whipping out to intercept Seth's blade. The clash of ethereal metal and bone echoed through the chaos, sparks flying as their weapons met. Seth's smirk never wavered as he pressed forward, forcing Lilith to backpedal under the relentless assault.

A shield halted his next strike, and Lilith jumped back into the air. A hulking bear took her place, swinging a massive axe at him. Seth leapt over it, landing on the brute's back and driving his spear down between its shoulder blades. He spun on his heel, decapitating the bear and all those that came close.

More sinners poured in, a seemingly endless tide of damned souls. Seth gritted his teeth, ignoring the numbness that spread through his body and the imaginary noose tightening around his soul. His spear became a blur, demonic flames dancing at the tip. He slammed the spear into the ground, causing a massive explosion that sent a shockwave of fire and force through the ranks of the sinners. The blast incinerated and scattered them like leaves in a storm, leaving Seth standing alone in a scorched and devastated crater.

Mammon's frustration seeped through the link. [Right, right, I get it. Just don't go for the kill yet.]

'Not really an issue at the moment,' Seth thought more to himself than as a reply to the Sin of Greed. He couldn't even if he wanted to.

He'd been in Hell for a bit more than half an hour.

He'd been in the Greed Ring for nearly twelve minutes.

His arms felt numb, moving them felt as if he were dragging lead.

An ache in his chest suggested his lungs were giving out.

The relentless ringing in his ears made it hard to focus.

His right thigh pulsed with sharp, stabbing pain.

His vision wavered, blurred by strain.

Her influence on his soul tightened, making every moment a struggle.

The mocking grin never left his face, his posture relaxed as the sinners continued dropping out of the air around him.

Seth's grip on his spear tightened, his gaze never leaving Lilith. She was too occupied trying to heal her injuries to pay any attention to his own struggle. He forced a grin, pushing through the pain. "Is that supposed to impress me?" he asked aloud, more to keep himself grounded than to provoke her. "Add a billion of those sinners, and they wouldn't make for a good warm-up."

[How much longer till the cage is finished?] he mentally inquired through his halo.

Lilith's eyes flashed with a hint of amusement. "Always the smart mouth," she replied smoothly, her smile unwavering. "It's easy to act tough when you're cutting through rabble. You'll change that tune soon enough."

"Not keeping my hopes up. Knowing you, the subjects are as pathetic as their queen," Seth scoffed. It didn't escape his notice how little threat the thousands of sinners he cut down posed. He wasn't exaggerating with his earlier claim. For some reason, Lilith was only sending trash his way.

The few Overlords left on standby wouldn't pose a real threat either, but Seth was sure Lilith was well aware of that. She was plotting something.

The Fat Clown's voice crackled through his mind, distorted and faint. [You can't rush fucking greatness, mate! The Greed Ring is massive. Just keep her busy. Talk about how bloody great your cock is or something.]

Internally, Seth frowned. He was running out of time, yet he was forced into a waiting game. There was a reason only his father was the only Winner could venture into this shit hole unbothered.

Little by little, his mother's hold on him was getting firmer. The Roo fragment in his soul was slowly bringing him over the edge.

Even as Seth taunted Lilith, he focused inward, reaching for his soul with a concentrated effort. His inner energy flowed steadily, like a river cutting through rock. He visualized his soul as a central core, with Roo's fragment entangled around it like dark vines.

He drew on the divinity in his soul, directing his energy to isolate the tendrils of Roo's influence. Each pulse of power was a deliberate effort to isolate the fragment from his core. He channeled his energy in rhythmic waves, each surge carving a clear path through darkness.

As he concentrated, the dark tendrils recoiled and weakened. The fragment of Roo's essence remained at the periphery, increasingly isolated from his core. The energy he moved worked like a cleansing tide, washing away the dark influence, leaving his soul clearer with each cycle

It was only a temporary fix. Seth knew he'd have to repeat the process in five minutes from now, just like he had to barely five minutes ago. The worst part was that he couldn't even move much or risk breaking his concentration. When he was alive, this kind of cleansing was automatic and didn't need his constant attention.

As great as his wings were, Seth would give an arm and a leg to get his old human body back. His title as the "Blessed Son" had been more than just lip service back then.

Till he was done, he would talk shit.

Outwardly, Seth laughed, the sound of amusement evident. "Is that what you call this display? All I see is desperation, Lilith. You're throwing everything at me because you know you're outmatched."

Lilith's expression remained calm, the violet hue of healing magic around her pulsing with energy. "Outmatched? By you? Don't make me laugh. I'm merely toying with you," she said with a controlled confidence. "You merely caught me off guard. it will not happen again"

[Give an actual number, fatass!] Seth growled through the shared mental link. He tilted his head slightly, his grin widening. "So that's your grand plan? Throwing trash into the meat grinder while you hide away?" He shook his head in mock disappointment. "The more I talk to you, the more I realize I overestimated you far too much."

[This bitch is a lot stronger than your ass makes her to be, you know?] The Fat Clown's annoyed voice echoed in his mind again. [I don't like…six, seven minutes maybe? Just keep her riled up.]

[And the rest?] Seth asked.

Another, more regal voice reached him telepathically. [As soon as the cage is ready, we shall move, my lord.]

Not a lord.

Lilith's eyes narrowed, but her voice remained steady. "You sure do love talking as if you know it all. I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

"Damn straight!" Seth's grin grew slightly as he twirled his spear with practiced ease. The spear's cooldown was finished, and it no longer threatened to blow up in his hand. "On that note, I was actually aiming to go after your little spawn first, you know. Shame Michael got to her first. It's a pity, both for me and her. No one deserves to die at Michael's hands. Not even a clean death," Seth said, weaving the lie as effortlessly as he breathed.

Seth's eyes gleamed with dark satisfaction as he watched Lilith's reaction. "Ripped her apart limb from limb. Her cute little head's now hanging as a decoration at the Pearly Gates," he said, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Heaven's got its share of sick fucks too, y'know. The ones who never acted on it in their lives. Well, can't have them bottle that shit for eternity. They're having a field day with her corpse!"

Lilith's eyes narrowed, her breath catching as she struggled to keep her voice steady. "You're lying," she said, her tone icy but betraying a hint of uncertainty. "You have to be lying…"

"Am I?" he taunted. "Why don't you go check the Pearly Gates yourself? Maybe you can give her a proper burial if there's anything left—might want to give it a good scrub first, though, if you get what I mean." Seth's grin turned lopsided, feeding off the pain in her eyes. He made a crude gesture, his index and thumb forming a circle while his other index finger moved in and out.

Lilith's fists clenched tightly, a flicker of rage breaking through her controlled exterior. Her magic flared as she struggled to keep her composure. "I will make sure you regret every word, every lie, every taunt," she said, her voice a dangerous whisper, steady but filled with menace.

Lilith stopped holding back.

'About time!' Seth's smile widened as his crimson eyes roamed over the chains in her grasp. The chains began to multiply, each link breaking off and reconstructing a separate soul chain. hundred thousands of souls under her command lay bare and helpless as those enslaved by them had all fallen under the Queen's command. and army with numbers approaching a billion. A multitude of patterns swirling, each a piece of a puzzle that his eyes analyzed and his mind joined together.

A shit personality and a premature death weren't the only things he received from Mommy Dearest after all.

Slowly but surely, the path to Lilith's core was becoming clearer. It was still vague and ever-changing. These were the absolute majority of Lilith's slaves, but they weren't all.

Only two threads remained hidden and unsummoned.

But it was a start. The more she revealed, the more power she used, the clearer her core became.

The broken blade at his side burned in anticipation.

A simple Death was a mercy he had no intention of granting her.

Seth's grin didn't falter as he saw Lilith's cold rage. He tilted his head slightly, his eyes glinting with dark amusement. "Is that so?" he drawled, his voice laced with mockery. "I must say, you're quite the drama queen when it comes to your offspring. After all, it's not that different from what we've done to us."

The Queen of Hell raised her arms, and the chains glowed ominously, their eerie light casting flickering shadows. "You've touched something you shouldn't have. I promise you that,"

Seth guffawed as he felt the last traces of his mother leave his body, the sound of his laughter harsh and mocking. "I told you, didn't I?!" he shouted, his tone dripping with derision. "No matter how many pieces of trash you pile up, no matter how many of these pathetic sinners you throw at me, you won't even come close to relieving me of my boredom!" His laughter was a bitter, cruel sound as he continued, "

Lilith sneered, her gaze icy and unwavering. "That might be true for a peasant like you," she said, her voice dripping with contempt. "But for those who rule, it's a different reality. Quantity has its own quality. It's not just about the number of pieces, but how you use them. So pay attention, you insolent peacock, and witness what true power looks like."

The entire Ring of Greed began to tremble violently as Lilith's power surged. Massive tentacles of shadow erupted from the ground, rising into the sky. The shadows coalesced and intertwined, tearing through everything in their path. Lilith's dark tendrils lashed out, gripping the air and pulling with unrelenting force.

The Veil of Reality was drawn back.

Seth quickly raised his forearm to shield his nose, switching to breathing through his mouth as a nauseating stench filled the air. It was a putrid mix of rot and decay, like festering meat left to bake in the sun. The acrid smell was thick and oily, seeping into his senses and clawing at his throat. The very air seemed to thicken with the scent of death and corruption.

Above, the abyss in the sky twitched, disgorging a sickening kaleidoscope of colors—vivid greens, putrid browns, and sickly yellows—each hue more disturbing than the last. The liquid, an abominable concoction of decay, dripped down, touching the ground with a hissing sound. Where it landed, it turned everything to ash and a repulsive, gelatinous goo that bubbled and writhed with a life of its own.

Seth's eyes narrowed as he peered through the vile pool spreading across the floor. His gaze widened as he made out the unmoving forms scattered within the sludge.

Grotesque and abominable, each one a horrifying amalgamation of twisted features and deformed limbs. Some were towering behemoths with malformed limbs and distorted faces, some seemed to be a mixture between humans, angels, and animals, while others were smaller, with distorted, misshapen bodies. Their eyes were vacant, their forms a mockery of any semblance of life.

Nephilim.

More accurately, Corpses of Nephilim.

"That cunt...no wonder I couldn't find them anywhere."

Ignoring the Clown's muttering, Seth's brow furrowed in confusion. What good would a bunch of half-decayed, unmoving corpses accomplish here? He looked at Lilith's smirk and raised an eyebrow. "If true power is just making the whole place smell like shit, no wonder I never got it. Well, you did make my nose itch and my eyes burn, so congrats. That's the closest thing you've gotten to damaging me."

Lilith's calm facade remained intact, her voice dripping with confidence. "Tell me, child," she began, her eyes glinting. "Do you know why souls are the most sought-after commodity in the Pride ring?"

Seth's brow furrowed slightly, but he remained silent.

"It's because souls are fundamentally pure energy," she continued. "The more souls you possess, the more power you command. Down here, power is everything. But there's another reason," Lilith said, a smirk playing on her lips. "Souls are incredibly malleable. It doesn't matter how damaged or broken they are. As long as a soul has a vessel, it will continue to beat."

Seth's eyes narrowed.

Lilith's smile widened as she saw the realization on his face. "Similarly, as long as there's a soul, anything can become a vessel."

Seth's frown turned into a disgusted glare, the pieces starting to fall into place. He glanced at the broken Nephilim corpses and then back at Lilith, a dawning realization in his eyes. "So that's your game," he muttered, his voice edged with revulsion.

Ressurection.

Seth's glare intensified, his grip tightening on his weapon. "You're a twisted bitch," he spat, but Lilith's smile only grew more sinister.

Lilith's voice turned icy, yet smug. "When you die, make sure to send my gratitude to your mother for showing me the true scope of a soul's power."

Lilith spoke, and her authority came to life. The soul-binding chains twisted and rushed into the empty, unmoving carcasses of the fallen monsters. The sinners cried out in fear and terror as they too followed, their souls cracking and shattering, reduced to pure energy.

Lilith raised her arms, her voice resonating with a haunting melody that seemed to vibrate through the very air. The chains glowed brighter, and she began her incantation:

"By the will of darkness and the power of despair,
Rise, my thankless soldiers, rise from your lair.
Bound by souls, corrupted and torn,
Awake from death, to life reborn."

The chains pulsed with a sinister light, each link glowing with the essence of stolen souls. The ground beneath the Nephilim corpses began to tremble, the air thick with the scent of decay and malevolence. The corpses twitched, limbs jerking as the dark magic infused them with a mocking semblance of life.

"From the abyss of shadows and the depths of night,
Return to this world, embrace the fight.
With every scream and every cry,
Serve your queen, and never die."

The Nephilim's eyes snapped open, vacant orbs now burning with an unholy fire. Their twisted forms began to rise, pulled upright by the soul-binding chains that had merged with their flesh. The sinners' screams grew louder, their terror feeding the dark ritual as their own souls were sacrificed to fuel the resurrection.

"Chains of torment, bonds of dread,
Reanimate the forsaken, raise the dead.
Through pain and sorrow, power flows,
In the name of Lilith, all shall know."

Lilith's incantation grew louder, her voice echoing through the air with an ethereal quality that sent shivers down Seth's spine. The resurrected Nephilim stood before her, a nightmarish army of undead monstrosities ready to unleash havoc upon the world.

Seth watched as the once-lifeless corpses now moved with purpose, their hideous shapes radiating a dark, malevolent energy. He clenched his fists. 'Just a bit longer.'

Lilith lowered her arms, her eyes glowing with satisfaction. "Rise, my soldiers," she commanded, her voice a chilling whisper. "And bring ruin to all who stand in my way."

The thousands of Nephilim stood, their forms and decaying flesh continuing to rot and writhe with every movement. The air around them was thick with the stench of death, a vile miasma that choked and twisted the senses. The ground beneath them became a festering swamp of putrid ooze and writhing maggots, each step of the reanimated abominations causing the earth to quake.

As one, the Nephilim roared—a thunderous, guttural sound that echoed through the Ring of Greed and beyond. The roar was a horrifying cacophony of agony and rage, a collective cry of the damned that reverberated off the walls of Hell itself.

A massive Nephilim charged at Seth, its speed and power defying all expectations. With a violent swing, it cocked its fist and struck with a force that seemed to warp reality itself. Seth raised his spear in a desperate block, but the sheer strength of the blow drove the shaft into his body, sending him hurtling through the air. The impact uprooted him, transforming him into a streaking comet that crashed through the buildings of Avaricia.

He tore through structures, debris exploding in his wake as he smashed through walls and ceilings, leaving a trail of destruction. Twisting mid-air, Seth spread his wings to halt his descent. Just then, another smaller, scuttling Nephilim rushed at him. With a deft maneuver, Seth dodged its lunge, but the creature's flesh convulsed. From its back, more limbs twisted grotesquely, extending toward him. Seth slashed at the elongating appendages, severing them in a burst of dark blood. He struck the beast's head with a clean cut, but it continued swinging blindly, relentless and inhuman.

A flurry of smaller Nephilim followed, their bodies shifting and morphing as they attacked from all sides. One lunged at Seth's side with a gaping maw, only to be met with a savage swipe of his spear that severed its head. Another beast, its torso elongated and eyes glowing with malevolent energy, launched a stream of dark magic. Seth barely evaded it, the blast singeing his wings as he twisted through the air.

Seth shot higher into the sky, narrowly avoiding another Nephilim that slammed into him from below. A different creature grabbed him by the head with a vice-like grip and drove him down to the ground with bone-jarring force.

As he collided with the earth, several other Nephilim piled on top of him. Some were gargantuan, with malformed bodies; others were small and spindly, their elongated limbs snaking around him. Their hideous faces were masks of vacant rage, their eyes glowing with an unnatural light. They didn't feel pain; their relentless attacks were driven purely by a monstrous instinct.

Seth's weapons flashed in a blur. In a fraction of a second, all of his attackers were reduced to red mist. He jumped upwards, only for his body to lock in place. A massive glacier of ice slammed into him, encasing him in an icy prison. The Nephilim's magic continued to bombard him, their spells erupting with destructive force.

Tens of Nephilim descended upon him with feral intensity, tearing and biting at whatever piece of him they could grab. All that was visible now was a massive sphere of writhing, twisted flesh. The Nephilim surged and swarmed, their bodies crashing into each other as they fought to reach Seth.

Spells of fire, lightning, and dark magic flared from inside and outside the pile of bodies, creating a chaotic storm of destruction. Their attacks were indiscriminate, hitting their allies and themselves in their single-minded frenzy to annihilate their enemy. The inferno roared through the mass, lightning crackled, and dark magic pulsed with raw power. The Nephilim's madness fueled their onslaught, their minds consumed by a primal drive to destroy.

A massive palm descended from above, crashing into the swirling pile. The force was so immense that it crushed and pinned Seth against the ground. The Nephilim's forearm swelled, gathering air magic into a concentrated sphere. With a thunderous explosion, the magic was released point-blank, obliterating the area around Seth. The shockwave shattered the surrounding buildings and sent debris flying in all directions.

From a distance, Lilith watched with a cold, detached gaze. She stood on a high ledge, her figure illuminated by the flickering fires and the flashes of dark magic below. She barely moved, her fingers occasionally making subtle gestures to direct the Nephilim and their spells. A smirk played at her lips.

The ground shook with every new attack, debris flying and explosions rocking the area. Lilith's smirk grew slightly as she saw Seth struggle against the overwhelming horde. Occasionally, she flicked her fingers, sending new waves of Nephilim into the fray or directing their magic with a casual, almost indifferent motion.

His efforts, though impressive, were insignificant compared to the sheer force of her creations. She took a dark pleasure in watching him fight against such impossible odds. The Nephilim he destroyed were quickly resurrected, consuming new souls to rise again. Each Nephilim required at least fifty thousand regular souls to return, a minor cost compared to what they offered. And Lilith had souls in the billions.

No matter how much he killed, they would rise again and again.

Lilith turned her attention away from the chaos, focusing her senses as she sought out Mammon. The fat clown had crossed her twice—once by distracting her and again by closing her gates. Despite these affronts, with Adam's spawn now dying, Mammon had nowhere to hide.

She would make him beg for the sweet release of death.

He wasn't in the Greed Ring. Where could he have gone? Lilith needed to find him and settle the score. Her gaze darkened with irritation as she refocused her efforts.

She extended her senses outward, reaching into the other rings, but her brow furrowed in confusion. Her normally reliable perception faltered, failing to penetrate beyond the boundaries of the Greed Ring.

She tried to push further, forcing her senses to stretch, but the result was the same—nothing but an impenetrable void.

Her frustration grew as she scanned the area. The realization that she couldn't detect any presence beyond the Greed Ring was unsettling. No, it wasn't just outside the Greed Ring, she realized.

The Greed Ring itself was empty. A barrier? No, she quickly discarded that thought. If there were a barrier, her senses would have detected some form of resistance or distortion.

Desperation gnawed at her. She summoned the last two souls under her command, focusing all her energy on bringing them forth. But they remained out of reach. She tried again with a different method, to swap her place with one of them. But the result was the same—nothing.

Both Cain and Alastor were beyond her grasp.

Desperate, Lilith conjured a massive magical circle in the air. She channeled her energy into it, releasing a beam of raw power toward the horizon. The beam surged through the sky, traveling several dozen kilometers before vanishing into the distance. Lilith willed it to detonate, hoping for some sign or reaction.

There was no explosion. No response. Lilith's eyes widened in shock as the realization hit her with force: a massive portion of the Greed Ring was suspended in another dimension.

They were no longer in Hell.

Mammon's doing? No, he was strong, but not nearly strong enough to create a pocket dimension of this size. His specialty lay elsewhere.

Bel-!

Lilith's thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a massive explosion that shook the air behind her. She turned sharply, her eyes widening as she saw a towering pillar of light erupting into the sky. At its base stood Seth, his figure illuminated against the blinding brilliance. The remnants of the Nephilim that had once swarmed him rained down upon the city, their grotesque forms scattered and broken.

From the distance, Seth dusted himself off with a casual air. "Huh, has it really been seven minutes already?" he wondered aloud, his voice carrying over the ruin. He gingerly touched his broken nose, twisting it back into place with a wince. With a flick of his hand, he brushed the dirt from his tattered attire and what remained of his torn cloak. He wiped the blood from his face and surveyed the damage around him. His gaze fell on the disarrayed remains of the Nephilim scattered across the city.

"The barrier looks a lot different than we agreed, fatass," Seth called out, his tone tinged with a mix of amusement and irritation.

Mammon's cackling voice echoed in response, full of smug satisfaction. [Had some unexpected mighty help, so I finished up earlier than planned. Tweaked the plan a bit. Figured you'd like this version better.]

Seth shrugged his shoulders and flexed his limbs, a satisfied crack echoing with each movement. His wings unfurled with a creak, stretching out and preening as if savoring their freedom... A predatory grin spread across his face, his eyes glinting with renewed vigor. The pull of his mother's fragment still lingered, but it was less intense now, a mere shadow of its former weight. "Yeah, can't say I hate it."

Seth turned his attention back to Lilith and found her looking back at him, a sneer on her lips. "Still standing, are we? Impressive, but pointless. You're only prolonging the inevitable." She snapped her fingers, and more sinners were dragged into the ruined corpses, bringing the Nephilim to action again. "Kill him," she commanded.

The Nephilim charged, a chaotic mass of twisted limbs and savage fury. Seth pointed his spear ahead and launched himself forward, moving like a speeding cannon bolt that tore through the fallen beasts like a hot knife through butter.

A massive insectoid Nephilim tore through the streets and launched itself upwards toward Seth, screeching as it flailed its elongated appendages. Seth let the first hit crash into his blade, using its propulsion to spin himself and descend across its body like a chainsaw, severing it in two. The moment his feet touched the ground, he bolted across the streets towards Lilith.

Another Nephilim, a grotesque beast with multiple heads and twisted limbs, lunged at him. Seth batted it away with a swift strike, sending it crashing into a building. He rose into the sky using his wings, and at the peak of his ascent, he grabbed several knives from his belt and threw them with deadly precision. Each knife found its mark, embedding in the faces of the advancing Nephilim.

Seth twirled his spear, electricity dancing across its length. With a heave, he thrust it forward, sending a massive lightning dragon tearing through the clearing. Each knife guided the dragon to its next target, leaving charred corpses in its wake, numbering in the dozens.

Lilith raised her hand to heal the fallen Nephilim, but a massive torrent of wind and fire tore through the corpses, reducing them to mere ashes. With a swirl of his weapon, Seth directed the flame tornado towards Lilith. Thousands of sinners rushed to act as a meat shield for her, sacrificing themselves to halt the deadly vortex.

Seth's laughter was a bitter, cruel sound as he continued advancing and slaughtering. "You think you can impress me with this endless parade of failures? It's all just a pathetic distraction, and I'm more amused than threatened. Keep trying, Lilith. You're only making it clearer how out of your depth you really are!"

Lilith's eyes narrowed and she began to sing, her voice weaving a haunting melody that resonated through the battlefield. Her song was a twisted lullaby, enchanting both Nephilim and Sinners.

"Rise, my warriors, feel my command,

Twist and contort by my hand.

Souls of the damned, heed my call,

Fuse and grow, one and all."

As she sang, the Nephilim's forms twisted and contorted further, their bodies reshaping into even more grotesque and powerful abominations. Lesser sinners' souls were added to their essence, fusing into a nightmarish amalgamation of strength and fury.

The Nephilim surged forward, now even more monstrous and relentless.

He launched himself into the air, meeting the first Fallen head-on. It opened its maw and released a deafening shriek of sonic attack. Seth's blade slashed in front of him releasing its own sound projection that swallowed the Nephilim, tearing both flesh and bone.

A mere shadow of its former glory, the Ziz had no equal when it came to sound attacks.

More came, and with powerful slashes, he cut through them, the creatures' forms melting and decaying as Rahab's poison ate through them. Another Nephilim lunged at him, but he spun his spear, slicing through its chest in a blur of motion, ice blooming inside of it and exploding, tearing through its brethren.

Seth's grin widened as he faced the oncoming horde. "Is that all you've got, Lilith? Your new toys are breaking apart."

With a snarl, Lilith motioned for the Sinners to move forward. The Overlords, previously held back, joined the fray with terrifying power. Their combined might created a storm of destruction, magic crackling in the air as they advanced on Seth with renewed ferocity. Seth's laughter echoed through the battlefield.

One of the Overlords, a large dinosaur-like female Sinner with pink and green highlights in her hair, rushed Seth. "I'm sorry, love, but you'll have to fucking die!" she said, growing in size and releasing a massive wave of dark miasma. Seth cut through it easily, his blade a blur of light.

He rushed at her, only to dodge as a pair of gray amphibian Overlords attacked him with a jet of boiling water. "You will pay for what you've done to our king!" they swore, their voices dripping with venom.

Seth's lips curled into a smirk as he realized they were Hellborn from the Envy ring, clearly talking about Leviathan. He exaggeratedly frowned and taunted them, "I can't remember every damn small fish I've crushed."

"Bastard!" The amphibians attacked again, this time with a different acid breath. Seth turned, letting the Leviathan coat absorb the blow before spinning and delivering a kick that tore the head of the youngest clean off his shoulders. He lunged at the second, only to be blasted away by one of the Nephilim.

The dinosaur Overlord bashed into him again, snatching his left arm in her jaws and slamming his body into the jaws of an upcoming Nephilim. The Nephilim clamped its maw down on the rest of his body, and the two began to pull, trying to rip him apart. Inside the Nephilim's jaws, Seth sheathed his blade and reached behind him, his fingers curling around his new weapon with a grin.

A second later, the Nephilim's skull was blown to shreds with a resounding bang. Seth turned his shotgun to the left and shot again, reducing the right side of the dinosaur Overlord's face to mush. With a cry, she let go of him and shrank back, retreating into the horde.

The Blessed Son tilted his head to the side, avoiding an ice projectile from the Leviathan's spawn. Replacing the cartridge swiftly, he blasted the creature's head off.

More Overlords joined the fray, each displaying terrifying power and unique abilities. One Overlord, a hulking beast with magma-like skin, spewed molten lava toward Seth. He dodged, but the ground beneath him melted, making his footing precarious. The Overlord struck again, and Seth spun his wings, batting the magma away. His momentum guided his spin; he thrust his foot in front of the sinner's face. The Overlord put his guard up and closed his eyes in fear, but no attack came. A second later, he opened his eyes just in time to see the firing mechanism that tore through his upper body.

A skeletal Overlord with wings of bone descended from above, casting shadows over the battlefield. "Death claims you, Angel of Death," it intoned, its voice a hollow echo. The Overlord's scythe swung down, aiming for Seth's neck, but he blocked with his spear, the clash sending sparks flying. With a twist and a powerful thrust, Seth shattered the scythe and drove his fist through the skeletal Overlord's ribcage, crushing its bones. Yet before he could finish him off, Seth felt a missile slam into him.

Lilith launched herself at Seth, her speed and ferocity catching him off guard. She barraged him, dragging his face into the ground and unleashing spell after spell of destruction upon his body from her hand while keeping hold of him.

Seth's body thrashed and bled under the onslaught, but he flipped himself with her, kicking her in the stomach and forcing her to release him. He swung his blade at her, but she jumped back, avoiding death, but not escaping the large cut on her face extending from one ear to the other. She summoned two massive binds that slammed into his arms, pinning him.

Lilith slashed at his throat, but Seth's leg rose and struck her in the abdomen, lifting her off the ground and causing her massive claws to tear through his shoulder instead. Seth tore one of the binds and smacked her in the ear, disorienting her. The other rushed, pushing the barrels of the shotgun into her mouth and firing, Angelic steel exploding and ripping her jaws apart.

With a cry of pain and fear, she turned and unleashed a wild beam of red energy, carving a wound through his stomach and detonating, blasting the two apart. Seth rolled and jumped to his feet, his body aching and bleeding from multiple wounds.

A serpentine Nephilim with scales that shimmered like oil on water slithered through the battlefield, its tail lashing out to ensnare Seth's legs. It pulled him off balance, but Seth twisted and used the momentum to sever the tail with a swift slice. The Nephilim hissed and lunged, its fangs dripping with venom, but Seth decapitated it in a single, fluid motion.

Another Overlord, a hulking beast with six arms and eyes that glowed with infernal fire, roared and charged at Seth. The creature's fists were wreathed in flames as it unleashed a barrage of fiery punches. Seth weaved and dodged, his spear striking with lightning speed to parry the blows. He found an opening and drove his spear into the creature's chest, the flames extinguishing as it fell.

The grin never left his face. "What's the matter, Lilith? I thought fighting peasants was beneath a Queen?!"

Jaw quickly mended, Lilith's eyes blazed with fury. "You insufferable worm!" she screamed, her voice filled with venom. "I will make sure there's nothing left of you!" She pushed her hands forward and sang again. This time, her voice lacked the previous melodic beauty; it was a cruel, oppressive command. The air trembled with the power of her dark incantation.

As one, Sinners and Nephilim alike spiraled into a single gigantic stream that rushed toward Seth like a tidal wave. He gritted his teeth as millions of tons of flesh and bone bashed into him like a freight train, uprooting him as it tore through the city. With his blade and spear in a cross guard, he tried to push against the tide, but to no avail. Cursing, he unleashed a torrent of sound and lightning that incinerated those near him by the hundreds. He ignored the searing heat of the spear in his hand and pooled more power into it. Yet it seemed futile, as more enemies pressed him from all sides, limbs and teeth trying to grab onto his flesh and rip him apart.

Lilith's voice echoed again, and another pile seemed to rush from his side. Hastily, he raised a shield of holy energy. The shield cracked under the force but held on. Seth glared, doing everything in his power to hold them back. A distant glint was all the warning he received; he barely moved an inch before a small beam of light tore through the horde, striking him in the lung and coming out of his back.

Blood rose to Seth's throat, his concentration broke, and the horde shattered through his defenses, crushing his body into the ground. The sheer weight and force of the mass pinned him down, making it almost impossible to breathe. Seth's vision blurred as he struggled to stay conscious, his body screaming in agony.

Lilith's laughter echoed above the chaos as she watched her subjects ram into Seth, flames and lightning crackling from where he was trying to push against them. " You look pathetic down there, Seth! This is the best you can do? All your bravado, all your power, and you're still nothing but a worm writhing in the dirt!"

Her voice was a mix of contempt and glee, each word designed to cut into him, to break his spirit. "You'll beg for mercy before the end, but I'll show you none. There's no escape, no salvation for you. Just endless torment and suffering. You'll wish you had never been born!"

"You dare talk about my daughter?!" She raised her hand motioning for more to join the fray as his struggles continued, the force of her tide shaking the whole dimension. "You always were a disappointment. Did you really think you could challenge me? Did you think you could win? Foolish, insignificant pest! You'll be crushed under the weight of your own arrogance!"

Yet in a flash, her laughter was cut short as her horde was dispersed by several attacks from somewhere else. Ice shards flew through the air, piercing the ranks of her minions and causing them to scatter. Darkness enveloped the battlefield, creating confusion and chaos among the creatures. Earth spikes erupted from the ground, impaling some of her followers and forcing the others to retreat. The combined assault was relentless, breaking apart the horde enough for Seth to seize the opportunity. With a powerful burst of energy, he blasted the remaining attackers off him, sending them flying in all directions. Freed from the melee, Seth leapt into the sky, his form silhouetted against the chaos below.

Lilith watched in silence, her rage bubbling under the surface as dozens of massive demonic birds flew across the sky. A huge assortment of several beasts, all with pronounced features of birds of prey, filled the air. Their wings beat in unison, creating a powerful rhythm that echoed through the ruins.

Hell's nobility, the Ars Goetia.

Her eyes zeroed in on the largest of them all, a red four-winged eagle monstrosity. Its plumage was a striking combination of black and gold, shimmering under the infernal light. The creature had piercing emerald eyes that seemed to burn with an inner fire. Its talons were like polished obsidian, sharp and deadly, reflecting a faint, ominous glow.

The eagle monstrosity's wingspan was immense, each of its four wings powerful and adorned with intricate patterns of gold against the deep red feathers. The black feathers around its head and chest gave it a regal and imposing appearance. Its beak was sharp and hooked, perfect for tearing flesh. As it landed on the roof of a building, its sheer weight caused the structure to groan and crack, emphasizing its immense size and strength.

Next to the Blessed Son, the eagle monstrosity stood tall.

"King Baal," Lilith spoke with a low tone, recognizing the formidable presence before her. "I must admit that you've caught me at a rather unfortunate time. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"It has been some time, Your Majesty. It wounds me that our meeting couldn't be under better circumstances." The massive beast's form wrapped in a torrent of shadows as it shrank into a more humanoid form, though still retaining the eagle features. Dressed in fine clothing and brandishing his proud sigil on his coat, Baal bowed his head lightly as he tapped his cane. "As for what brings us here, I believe that the King of Avarice had already informed you of our position concerning the latest events."

Lilith's lips curled into a sneer. "So, you've come here to bend the knee and let Heaven walk all over you? Is that it? Proud as a peacock to be Heaven's lapdog."

"We are not your rabble to deceive, Lilith. We are old, and we remember. Heaven is not our enemy. Your little vendetta has caused quite the stir, and while chaos is often welcomed, there are limits." Baal's eyes glinted with amusement as he straightened, his cane tapping lightly against the rooftop. "And for future reference, it is Great King Baal now."

Lilith's eyes narrowed as she took in Baal's new title. "Great King Baal," she repeated, her tone laced with mockery. "Quite the promotion, isn't it? A moment of unrest, and you're all so quick to betray Asmodeus. It seems the Ars Goetia's honor is mere lip service."

"It is Asmodeus who has betrayed us, woman," the new voice interrupted, carrying a weight of disdain.

Lilith turned her glare toward the speaker. "Belial."

"The First Man declared that his quarrel was with the Royal Family," Belial's voice rang out, cold and authoritative.

Standing atop a distant building, he cut a striking figure. His form was sleek and commanding, adorned with majestic falcon features. His plumage, a blend of shimmering silver, deep blue, and pristine white, caught the light, making him appear almost ethereal.

"Endangering the Ars Goetia is no way a King should act," Belial continued, his tone unwavering. "Asmodeus's arrogance brought the Taxiarch to our doorstep and nearly dragged us into a war we have no interest in."

His attire was refined and classy: a long, tailored coat with intricate patterns embroidered in silver thread, a high-collared shirt, and a vest that added a touch of elegance. This sartorial grace contrasted sharply with the disdainful sneer on his face and his arms crossed defiantly.

Lilith's eyes flared with anger at Belial's words. "So, you have no qualms about abandoning your allies just because the wind has shifted? And here you are, criticizing my methods while hiding behind your supposed principles."

He slammed his foot, causing the surrounding structure to freeze solid, the glacier-like ice creeping ominously toward Lilith. The chilling transformation of the landscape underscored the seriousness of his warning. "I won't waste time debating loyalty with the whore who has desecrated the remains of comrades we once fought alongside."

Lilith's expression hardened. "You think you can lecture me on loyalty while you align yourselves with those who would see Hell's power divided and weakened? Your actions speak louder than your words."

Baal's voice interjected, smooth, and measured. "The matter is not just about words or actions. It's about ensuring that Hell remains functional and that its powers are not squandered in pointless conflicts."

Lilith's glare intensified as it swept across the clearing, finally landing on a familiar face. "And you, Paimon? After years of boasting about your loyalty to the Royal Family, you stand with those who would turn their talons against me? Is that why you're here?"

Paimon shifted, his feathers rustling beneath his ornate, red-trimmed robes. "Your Majesty," he began, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of regret, "I was loyal to the Royal Family when they upheld their duty to Hell. My allegiance was to a power that respected the balance and order of our realm. I'm here to ensure the balance of power remains...equitable."

Lilith scoffed, crossing her arms. "Equitable? You mean to maintain your own interests. Don't pretend you're here out of some noble sense of duty."

Baal's voice was firm and measured. "We'd rather not fight against old friends, Lilith. Lay down your weapons and we can resolve this without further bloodshed."

Seth sniggered from his position, hovering in the sky.

Lilith's lips curled into a disdainful smile. "Lay down my weapons? To whom should I surrender? To you?" Her voice dripped with mockery. "You think I'm going to kneel to the likes of you?"

"It is not for us to make such a judgment, only to ensure that you are brought to answer for your actions."Baal's gaze was steady and unyielding. "Heaven will decide your fate.

Lilith's laughter was a harsh, sardonic sound that cut through the tension. "So, you're telling me it's time to die, then? How delightfully predictable. Just when I thought the Ars Goetia might show a hint of backbone, you turn out to be no different from the rest."

Baal's expression remained unchanged, his silence more revealing than any words.

Silence hung between them, the only sound heard was the fluttering of wings and groans of the Nephilim surrounding them. Lilith's eyes swept across the devastation around her. The city lay in ruins, charred and broken. Buildings crumbled, streets were torn apart, and the remnants of once-grand structures lay in heaps of debris. The people who once groveled at her feet now stood defiantly, their faces twisted in defiance. Her loyal followers, once so eager to do her bidding, now turned against her, their eyes gleaming with a mixture of rebellion and scorn.

Lucifer, the mighty partner she had relied on, was shattered and broken. Her daughter, a beacon of her hopes, happiness, and future plans, was gone. The weight of these losses pressed heavily on her chest, making it hard to breathe.

Everything she fought for, everything she had dreamed of, felt like a distant memory now. The grand vision she had built with so much effort seemed to slip through her fingers, like sand in an hourglass. The empire she had ruled with an iron fist was now reduced to ruins, and the people who had once feared and revered her were now her enemies.

"Screw them, Lily! We'll make our own Heaven down here!"

Where did it all go wrong?

She just wanted to be treated equally.

In the end, it all traced back to that place.

Lilith opened her mouth and sang her last-ever song, baring her soul to all creation. Her voice, once powerful and commanding, now carried a haunting, chilling quality. She poured all her power into one final melody until her throat was crushed, her voice gave out, and blood pooled in her mouth.

If this was the end, then let it be the greatest of ends.

She let her gaze settle on the insolent child once again.

The grin was gone from his face. His hair darkened a drop of black seeped into his silver wings.

They were sorely mistaken if they thought she would lay down and die.

She would make this cage their graveyard, her last act a terrifying symphony of wrath and despair.

She was Lilith.

The Queen of Hell and the First Woman.


some days prior.

Sixth Heaven, Zebul.

Heaven was really beautiful, Charlie decided.

It seemed a bit of an obvious statement. Of course, it was beautiful—it was Heaven, duh! But Heaven was really beautiful.

Charlie had always wondered about how Heaven was. Dad always told her that Heaven was very beautiful and bright, but very boring. She wasn't sure about the last part, but when she finally entered it a couple of weeks ago and stood in it, she could definitely say it was beautiful. And also very bright.

It was clean, too. Charlie wondered what kind of cleaning products they used and if they could give her some. Or maybe it was magic. Maybe they could teach her?

It would really make her hotel more presentable. Nifty did one hell of a job, but the cockroaches and insect corpses really had to go.

Again, Heaven was much more beautiful than Hell, but to be honest, that wasn't really a high bar to begin with. Did it really have to be so red? After she was in heaven and the other rings, the red seemed to really stick out. It was so...red.

Sadly, whatever happened after her initial admiration wasn't nearly as beautiful. She was kicked out, and embarrassed, and the Exorcists tried to kill her. They failed, and Adam died. Until he was alive again. He came down to Hell, and attacked her dad, uncles, and aunt. She tried to help only to get beaten within an inch of her life by her aunt.

On the one hand, it hurt a lot. On the other hand, she had an aunt! And her name was Michael! Sure, she was a bit psychotic and sadistic, but Charlie was used to dealing with those types of people back in Hell.

This just convinced her that Hellborn and Heavenborn might not be so different after all.

Her aunt healed their injuries with a touch, and then they were given the softest white robes. They were fluffy and twirled whenever Charlie spun around. The robes made her feel a bit like a fairy tale character.

But then again, Michael also called them a bunch of names and insulted them a lot.

Then she threw them in Jail.

Her aunt was a difficult woman to read.

Charlie was surprised Heaven actually had jails. It made sense in a way; jails and prisons were all about rehabilitation. Hell didn't do Rehabilitation. In Hell, you just killed whoever wronged you. You also killed people who didn't wrong you.

Hell was a bad place.

But what surprised Charlie even more was how...nice it was. Hell, Charlie wasn't even sure it was a jail. It was a garden! The cells were more like elegant gazebos nestled among lush greenery and vibrant flowers. Gentle streams flowed nearby, and soft birdsong filled the air. Green vines crept up the walls, and gentle light filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground. Flowers bloomed around them, adding a touch of color and fragrance to their surroundings.

It was like Paradise. Inside Paradise.

Charlie's eyes widened when she saw the animals. Real animals! She had seen anthropomorphic Sinners and Hellborn every day, but these were the real deal. Fluffy rabbits hopped around, chirping birds fluttered from branch to branch, and tiny deer nuzzled her legs. They were so cute!

Charlie squealed with joy, clapping her hands and spinning around. The animals seemed just as excited to see her. They didn't run away or cower; instead, they played with her and let her pet them. The little deer licked her hand, and the rabbits hopped into her lap. She couldn't believe how soft their fur was.

They were so cute!

There was also food! Five times a day, a table would pop up with a different, always delicious meal. The food was amazing—like, seriously, every time they brought something new, it was even better than the last. There were juicy fruits, tasty pastries, savory dishes, and everything you could imagine.

No wonder Heaven got so much praise if this was how they treated their prisoners. It was like a constant feast, and every meal felt like a treat.

Charlie thought she could spend forever here. Well, not really, but she sure liked it! The idea of hanging out in such a beautiful place with great food and friendly animals felt like a dream come true.

Vaggie had disagreed "Yeah, except we're still prisoners, Charlie."

Charlie sighed at that. "I know, but it's just...different. It's like they actually care about reforming people here."

Vaggie snorted. "Sure, as long as you follow their rules and fit into their perfect little mold."

It was clear that Vaggie did not seem to share the same enthusiasm. Her unease had been apparent as she scanned the garden with a suspicious glare, clearly uncomfortable in the midst of such tranquility.

Charlie knew that returning to Heaven wasn't on Vaggie's to-do list any time soon. And seeing Charlie act like a kid in a festival wasn't really doing her girlfriend any good.

Charlie had tried to assuage her worries but to little success. Vaggie had expressed her doubts, saying she didn't trust the place and felt that everything seemed too perfect. The encounter with Michael had only added to her distrust.

Charlie had tried to reassure Vaggie, although deep down, she shared some of those concerns. The situation felt perplexing, and Charlie struggled to make sense of it all. Despite her worries about her father, her aunts, her uncles, and the hotel back in Hell, she tried to stay hopeful. Heaven was supposed to be full of good people, after all.

Despite her own fears, Charlie had maintained a strong front. After several hours of persistent begging and hopeful puppy eyes, Vaggie reluctantly gave in. She started to eat and play with the animals, her initial reluctance slowly giving way to a cautious enjoyment.

The garden's serene beauty began to work its subtle magic on Vaggie. As she interacted with the animals, her tense posture softened. The playful rabbits and gentle deer seemed to ease her anxiety, if only a little. The vibrant flowers and gentle light provided a soothing contrast to her earlier fears.

And like that, two days had passed.

Charlie and Vaggie were seated at the table, enjoying their meal as usual. The food was as delightful as ever, and they were starting to settle into the routine of their temporary life in the garden.

"Could you please pass me the butter, little demon?" a deep, unfamiliar voice requested.

Charlie, absorbed in her thoughts, handed the butter without thinking. It wasn't until she registered the peculiar nickname and the unusual depth of the voice that she realized something was amiss. Both she and Vaggie turned their heads in surprise.

Sitting opposite them at the table was a man with chestnut hair and striking silver eyes. He was dressed in intricate robes of violet and green, his legs elegantly crossed as he absentmindedly spread butter on a piece of bread. However, what drew the most attention were his six white wings with dark undertones.

A seraphim.

"W-Who are you?" Vaggie managed to ask, her voice trembling slightly. Charlie turned to look at her, bewildered. A seraphim that Vaggie didn't recognize? She was certain she had never felt his presence before he spoke, and there had only been two chairs at the table when they had sat down

"It's proper manners to introduce oneself before asking for another's name," the angel said, his gaze sharp and unyielding.

Charlie quickly tried to diffuse the tension. "R-right! Ehm... uh, hi! I'm Cha—"

"I have been known by many names throughout my life and have been recognized by many others," the seraphim interrupted, his voice carrying a hint of ancient weight. "Hermes, Thoth, Enoch, Metatron, Sandalphon, Raziel, Merkabah, That weird guy with the wings, He who walked with the Lord, the Prophet, the Angel of the Presence, the Voice of God, the Divine Scribe, and even 'that annoying bastard' or 'cheeky little shit'—I've had quite the illustrious career in celestial bureaucracy."

He leaned back in his chair with a relaxed grin, spreading his six wings in a casual display. "But you can just call me Metatron. It's much simpler, and it saves me the trouble of explaining my entire resume."

Charlie and Vaggie exchanged uncertain glances. Metatron's easygoing demeanor and offhanded remarks were confusing. "O-okay, nice to meet you, Mr. Me-"

Metatron interrupted with an elegant bow. "Ah, of course, my apologies for not introducing myself properly. Allow me to share some more personal details. I stand at a precise height of 8 feet 7 inches, and my weight is approximately 423 pounds, though I must confess, it can fluctuate slightly based on my indulgences. My favorite color is a rather specific shade of cerulean blue, though I also have a fondness for the rare and elusive shade of chartreuse."

He continued with a composed air. "In my leisure time, I find great enjoyment in the art of collecting antique quills, particularly those with intricate gold filigree. I also possess an extensive collection of vintage taxidermy, including a rather charming three-eyed squirrel that I acquired from a rather obscure auction. My preferred mode of transportation, if I may add, is a meticulously crafted wooden unicycle, which I find both practical and whimsical."

"O-Oh, okay?"

Metatron interrupted again, continuing with a measured tone, his hands lightly gesturing as he spoke. "Ah, yes, I should share a few more personal quirks. For instance, Allow me to elaborate on a few personal inclinations. One might find it peculiar, but I have a particular appreciation for women of middle age who, despite their worries about time slipping away, still indulge in dressing up in their old high school uniforms. They'll pose in front of the mirror, blushing and feeling a bit embarrassed, and let out a soft Ara Ara~ I find this blend of nostalgia and self-consciousness quite charming."

Charlie's confusion was evident. Her brow furrowed as she tried to process Metatron's detailed descriptions. "Wait, so... you like...?" She trailed off, struggling to find the right words.

Vaggie's eyebrow twitched involuntarily, a clear sign of her growing irritation. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she tried to maintain her composure.

Metatron, seemingly oblivious to their discomfort, continued with a touch of formal amusement. "Ah, yes. There are, of course, other types that I find intriguing. For instance, I have a particular admiration for women who exude an air of aloof sophistication—those who carry themselves with an imperious grace and who might, on occasion, let out a haughty 'Ohoh-hoh' laugh while raising their hand and flexing the little finger. It makes me very joyful."

Charlie and Vaggie exchanged glances, trying to make sense of Metatron's peculiar remarks. Finally, Charlie asked, "So, , what exactly brought you here?"

Metatron, with an unflinching gaze and a perfectly straight face, replied, "I had nothing better to do."

Charlie blinked in surprise. "Wait, seriously? You came all this way just because you had nothing else to do?"

Vaggie's irritation flared again, but she kept her voice steady. "You're telling us that you're here on a whim?"

"As I stated before, I had some time to kill." Metatron's expression suddenly shifted, his calm demeanor evaporating in an instant. The air around him grew heavy, almost suffocating, as an overwhelming power radiated from his form. His six wings unfurled with a sudden snap, each feather gleaming with an otherworldly light. The atmosphere darkened, and the very ground beneath Charlie and Vaggie seemed to tremble. It felt as though an immense weight was pressing down on them, forcing them to their knees.

"I was bored, so I decided to see the vile creature who caused the death of The All-Father," Metatron said, his voice now a chilling whisper that cut through the air like a blade. "What child would stay idle while the killer of their Father is close by?"

The oppressive force of his presence grew even stronger, crushing them with a weight that felt like the very heavens were descending upon them. Charlie and Vaggie gasped for breath, their bodies trembling as they struggled to remain upright. The transition from Metatron's earlier nonchalance to this murderous intensity was swift and terrifying, his angelic authority bearing down on them with an unyielding might.

Charlie choked out, "The All-Father?" Her brain tried to decipher what he meant before it hit her. "You mean... Adam?" she gritted out.

"But of course!" Metatron smiled brightly, the oppressive pressure disappearing, letting them breathe again.

The two righted themselves, sweat beading on their foreheads, their hearts pounding in their chests. Charlie wiped her brow, trying to steady her breath. Vaggie, still tense, shot a wary glance at Metatron. "But you're an angel," she began, her voice steady despite the turmoil. "How can Adam be your... father?"

Metatron's smile widened, his eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and ancient wisdom. "Ah, that's a fair question. You see, I am an existence unlike most others. Unlike the rest of creation, I am one of three whom Death eludes. I have gone by many names; Metatron is the name the Almighty bestowed upon me. But my first name is Enoch, son of Jared, son of Mahalalel, son of Kenan, son of Enosh, son of Seth, son of Adam. I was and still am a human."

Charlie gasped in astonishment. "A human can become a Seraphim?"

Metatron nodded. "Yes,. Elevated by the Almighty, transformed into an angel, but at my core, I remain a descendant of Adam. My connection to him is as real as yours to your parents."

Charlie took a deep breath, her voice trembling slightly. "So, you're here to... avenge Adam?"

Metatron's smile remained, but there was a cold edge to it now. "Avenge? No. With the First Father returned it will no longer be justice for me to do it. I've come to Observe. Understand. Perhaps... judge. My duty is to merely to scribe as I see fit."

"What...What do you mean?" The Princess of Hell asked slowly, expecting him to flip out at any moment again.

"I am here because the threads of fate have woven our paths together," Metatron replied, his tone growing more solemn before quickly reverting to a more casual demeanor. "But truth be told, I was simply bored. I came to speak to the Child of Sin. I have heard and written much about you, Charlie. I came to tell you the Story of Creation."

Charlie hesitated for a moment, absorbing the gravity of his words. "The Story of Creation... why?"

"Call it by design or for a greater purpose. But, truth be told..." Metatron's smile grew mysterious, his eyes changing from silver to bright golden with two intersecting blue lines in the middle.

"My guts tell me that I must."