You are a member of the Ars Goetia Family, and nothing else.
You are a member of the Ars Goetia Family, and no one else.
His father's words were perhaps the most memorable words of his childhood. He wasn't sure if they were the first, but considering how little his father had seemed to care about spending time with him, they might as well have been.
And so, he took them to heart. Those two sentences shaped his entire life. A constant reminder of where his loyalties should fall. He was loyal not to the Royal Family, not the Sins, not the Demonkind and HellBorn, not unless they too were loyal to the Family.
He was made to continue and uphold the legacy, a living embodiment of the Family's ancient power and prestige. Every lesson, every command drilled into him, emphasized his role. He would sit in the grand library, surrounded by tomes of forbidden knowledge, absorbing the secrets and spells that defined his lineage.
Stolas was loyal to Hell itself. For Hell was the Ars Goetia.
He grew into his role with these thoughts simmering beneath the surface. His duties as a prince of Hell demanded attention, precision, and a cold, detached adherence to protocol. Every interaction, every decision was a reflection of the Ars Goetia's power.
But what did that even mean?
In his young age, Stolas never actually understood what that meant. Was the King of Hell, Lucifer, not the king for a reason? Were the Sins not the Princes of Hell for a reason? If so, then why do the Ars Goetia deal with them? Why was the King of the Ars Goetia one of the Sins? If the two were separate things?
The questions gnawed at him, a persistent itch in the back of his mind. His tutor's cryptic explanations offered little solace. "We are the foundation upon which Hell's power rests," his tutors would say, eyes hard and unyielding. "The Sins, the Royal Family—they are the surface. We are the roots."
Stolas had no idea what that meant.
Yet, despite his dedication, doubts lingered. His encounters with the other noble families, the Royal Family, and the Sins often left him questioning the true nature of his loyalty.
His father, whenever he actually remembered that Stolas existed, would observe his progress with a critical eye. Each glance, each nod of approval or disapproval, was a verdict. Stolas yearned for the rare moments of praise, but they were as fleeting as they were sparse.
And in rare moments, whenever a fleeting sense of fatherhood seized him, Paimon would even depart some sort of advice to Stolas like he did all those years.
And on even rarer occasions, he would even talk to Stolas rather than at Stolas. In one of those few and far-between occasions, Stolas dared ask his father what it all meant.
Uncharacteristically devoid of his eccentricities, disinterest, and arrogance, Paimon began to regal Stolas with the Story of Creation. It was so different from the dull and academic ramblings of his tutors, Stolas noticed. These were the accounts of someone who'd been present through it all.
He spoke of the One Above All, the supreme being who had existed before time itself. He described the Creation, the birth of the universe, and the emergence of celestial beings, the Angels.
There was a time when the heavens were a place of harmony and light. Angels thrived, created to serve and worship the One Above All. But then came the creation of Mankind.
Mankind, so full of potential and frailty, was given a paradise. But with free will came the possibility of rebellion. And so it was that some of the Angels, led by the Morning Star, questioned their place. They saw the love and favor bestowed upon Mankind and felt it unjust.
The Fall was inevitable. A rebellion in Heaven, a war that tore the fabric of the celestial realm. Those who defied the One Above All were cast down, becoming the Fallen, the first demons. And with them, The Ars Goetia was born.
Yet, if the Morning Star and the Seven Deadly Sins were there from the beginning alongside the Ars Goetia, why are they unworthy of their devotion?
"Because experience taught us that aligning with Lucifer and the Sins was a mistake that jeopardized our core values and stability. " Was his father's response.
The Sins, Even Great King Asmodeus, were embodiments of chaos and disorder, their power derived from their individual attributes rather than from a unified legacy. They represented moments of temptation and excess, not the steady, ancient structure that the Ars Goetia embodied. Their role was important but not central to the stability and continuity of Hell in a meaningful way.
The Royal Family, in contrast, was marked by its own instability. The King was frequently absent or indifferent, leaving him detached from Hell's daily struggles.
The Queen, however, was more actively involved in the realm's affairs. Yet her involvement was driven by personal ambition rather than a genuine concern for Hell's stability. Her decisions often reflected her own desires for power and influence, rather than contributing to a cohesive or strategic vision for the future of Hell.
They persisted merely because of their overwhelming strength and because Heaven allowed them to exist. Their presence in Hell was a reflection of their power and the delicate balance maintained by external forces, rather than any inherent right to their positions.
When Stolas questioned what it meant for Heaven to "allow them to exist," he asked, "Aren't Hell and Heaven supposed to be equal, merely opposite sides of the cosmic order?"
His father laughed.
He began to explain that after the Fall, Hell and Heaven had indeed become two parts of a whole, but they were never truly equal. The War had made that abundantly clear.
Hell existed only because the Almighty deemed it fitting, a necessary counterbalance rather than an equal counterpart. Hell's existence was an extension of divine will, not a claim to parity with Heaven.
Heaven's influence was all-encompassing, and Hell would always remain under its thumb. The balance of power was not a matter of cosmic equality but of hierarchical dominance. The Almighty's decision to create Hell was a concession, not an acknowledgment of equal status. For what reason, his father didn't know.
The Royal Family and the Sins were mere surface figures, powerful in their own right but existing because Heaven allowed them to.
The real power, the deep-rooted essence of Hell, lay with the Ars Goetia. They were the foundation that supported the visible power struggles above. While the Royal Family and the Sins navigated the surface, the Ars Goetia held the true, ancient strength of Hell.
"Remember, Stolas," his father advised, "Never interfere with Heaven."
Heaven was not their enemy.
Heaven was not their ally.
It simply was.
Stolas darted through the shadows of Fake Avaricia's sky, narrowly dodging a spear thrust from the feral Nephilim. The battlefield below was a storm of chaos and fire, debris scattered everywhere.
The Nephilim roared, its four twisted wings flapping wildly. It charged at Stolas with unrestrained rage, its attacks unpredictable and brutal. The creature growled and snapped, its eyes alight with frenzied energy.
Stolas unleashed a jet stream of flames, hoping to sear the Nephilim's flesh. But the creature plunged through the inferno, its skin sizzling but not slowing. It crashed into Stolas with bone-jarring force, sending him tumbling through the air.
The Nephilim's attack was relentless. It hurled erratic bolts of dark energy, each shot crackling with chaotic power. Stolas twisted and turned, barely avoiding the wild barrage. " You are a truly bothersome fellow," he yelled, frustration clear in his voice.
The Nephilim roared again, its voice a guttural growl. It summoned a wave of dark fire that surged toward Stolas. With a swift burst of his own magic, Stolas countered, the collision of forces creating a blinding explosion.
In the brief moment of confusion, Stolas conjured a whirlwind of shadows, obscuring the Nephilim's vision. The creature thrashed in the darkness, its movements becoming even more desperate. Seizing the chance, Stolas drew forth his Grimoire, its celestial light cutting through the gloom.
Reciting a powerful incantation, Stolas released a beam of radiant lunar energy. The light pierced through the Nephilim's defenses, burning with intense heat. The Nephilim howled in agony as the light seared through its body, its flesh disintegrating.
Stolas's feet barely touched the roof of a nearby building before he was forced to teleport away as the structure was ripped apart by a chaotic blast of wind magic.
With an unimpressed glare, Stolas turned toward the source of the attack. Stella, his horrendous ex-wife, stood on the edge of a neighboring rooftop, her expression a mix of mock apology and casual indifference.
"Stolas, darling," Stella said with a smirk, her tone dripping with insincerity. "I'm so sorry. I was aiming for that ugly abomination."
A Nephilim lunged at her from behind, but Stella grabbed it by the face and slammed it into the ground with brutal force. "Don't worry," she added, her voice sharp and mocking. She rose into the air, her arms extended as she summoned a massive tornado. The swirling tempest tore through several Nephilim, leaving destruction in its wake. If Stolas hadn't moved again, he would have been caught in the storm as well.
"I won't miss next time, you limp-dick cocksucker!" she shouted, her voice carrying over the roar of the wind.
With a roll of his eyes, Stolas teleported away from Stella, narrowly avoiding another of her chaotic wind blasts. As he reappeared in a different part of the battlefield, he found himself surrounded by a horde of Nephilim and Sinners, their snarls and roars filling the air.
They charged at him with frenzied determination, but Stolas remained calm. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned a wave of celestial energy that swept through the crowd, sending them sprawling with a blinding flash of light. The Nephilim and Sinners writhed in pain, their attacks disintegrating against the powerful barrier of magic Stolas erected.
Stolas's eyes swept over the battlefield, filled with exasperated disbelief. What had once been a celestial panorama was now a brutal canvas of destruction.
Stolas blinked out of sight as a surge of dark magic tore through the space he'd just occupied. He reappeared in another part of the battlefield, only to dodge a volley of explosive fire. Each teleportation was a narrow escape from the relentless onslaught.
Amid the chaos, he spotted several of his elder siblings engaged in the fight, their presence commanding but not distracting. They seemed to be holding their own, so he let them be. His wife's voice, laced with curses and frustration, made it very clear that she hadn't croaked yet.
Yay.
As Stolas maneuvered through the storm, his face was a tight mask of focus. "There is no end to them," he muttered, barely audible over the chaos. His figure flickered through the melee, a swift shadow amidst the wreckage. Spells reduced any animated corpse that came close to dust.
If it were up to Stolas, this entire mess could have been resolved over a cup of tea and a selection of biscuits. But, of course, the higher-ups were all too eager to resort to violence. First, it was the King of Hell and the King of Exorcists, and now it was the Queen of Hell and the First Hero.
Could they not at least spare a thought to how many people their action affected?
He sighed wistfully, wishing he were anywhere but here. As a member of the Ars Goetia, he had no choice but to participate, battling the ruined corpses of what might have been distant relatives and enslaved sinners who had no clue why they were fighting. The thought of his daughter, Via, brought a fleeting smile to his face. At least no one expected her to join this madness. That was a small silver lining in this otherwise dismal situation.
No matter how many enemies he struck down, there seemed to be no end to them. For every Nephilim or sinner he dispatched, several dozen more appeared to take their place. Stolas wasn't a great fighter by any stretch—he had the training expected of a prince, but he doubted his presence on the battlefield made much of a difference. Neither did his wife's, his cousins', or his brothers'.
With a sigh, he teleported once again before Vassago's solar blast could claim him as collateral.
"Death claims you, Owl of Death." A skeletal Overlord lunged at him, its bony claws reaching out for a fatal strike. Before it could land a blow, a wayward blast from a distant skirmish engulfed it in flames. The Overlord's form disintegrated into ashes. Several others tried to surround him only for his feathers to tear through them like wet papers
In the midst of the chaos, a small sinner tried to stab him with a pathetic cry. The blade shattered on Stolas's skin. He grabbed the sinner by the neck, offering him a pitying look. "We're both out of our depth here," he said, his voice a blend of exasperation and sympathy. His eyes glowed, turning the poor bastaérd into stone. He tossed the sinner aside, sending him crashing into the path of another stray icicle.
Stolas glanced over the battlefield again. The reality was sobering: the number of people who truly mattered in this mess could be counted on one hand.
He watched the three oldest kings—his father Paimon, Great Duke Belial, and Great King Baal—with a mix of awe and respect. The difference between them and the younger princes was striking. For every enemy Stolas managed to take down, the three elders were falling a hundred each. It wouldn't have been wrong to say that those three were the only reason, the Ars Goetia weren't overrun.
Baal stood rooted in place, his cane barely more than a prop. His blasts of matter-deleting energy swept across the battlefield, obliterating anything they touched. Buildings, Nephilim, and even the ground vanished in a flash, leaving behind only empty space. It was like watching an eraser erase a drawing, only on a massive scale.
Golden ice surged through the city, spreading in massive glaciers that froze everything in their path. Nephilim plummeted from the sky, their bodies encased in brittle ice that shattered with each impact. "Is that all you've got!" Great Duke Belial's taunts echoed over the chaos, each word dripping with scorn as his ice rendered everything worthless.
His father, now bearing the title of Great Marquis, moved through the chaos with commanding efficiency. He unleashed powerful waves of celestial fire that roared through the battlefield, scorching anything in their path. His weapon crackled with energy, sending arcs of fire that incinerated foes and disrupted the Nephilim's formations. Paimon's every motion was deliberate, turning the tide with explosive bursts that cleared entire sections of the battlefield.
It wouldn't have been wrong to say that those three—Baal, Belial, and Paimon—were the only reason the Ars Goetia weren't completely overwhelmed. Their raw power and commanding presence were the only things keeping the chaos at bay.
Yet even their immense might seemed to fade into the background compared to the true Main Event.
As if to prove his point and in agreement, a massive shockwave tore through the city. Gigantic tentacles of rot, devouring buildings and streets, erupted from the ground, consuming anything and anyone, friend and foe, in their path. They extended, stalking their prey through the green-lit artificial sky.
The First Man's son streaked through the air like a comet, zigzagging and weaving through the tentacles of the Queen of Hell, a blur of motion as Lilith's tendrils of shadow pursued him relentlessly. His sheer speed and glowing form cut through the night.
Sparks glinted around him, expanding into full-on blasts that evaporated all that dared to come close. The comet twisted and spun in the sky, his spear thrusting with a resounding roar, heralding a humongous lightning dragon that crossed the battlefield with vengeance.
The dragon tore through the clearing at lightning speed, maws wide as it slammed into the Queen of Hell's raised barriers and cannon fodder meat shields. The smell of decaying flesh spread through the city as the storm drake burned through everything in its path. Yet, it dissipated without finding its intended target.
Seth cursed under his breath as the construct's remnants faded into the ether, leaving behind only smoldering ruins and the stench of charred remains. The meat shields scattered like ash, revealing Lilith's twisted form.
Her gaunt figure, emaciated to the point of horror, stood tall with clothes seemingly melted into her ruined skin. Her skin pulled tightly over her bones, pushing out against the grayish-red surface. Her mouth elongated unnaturally, and her eyes were deep-set, flames burning out of the hollow sockets. Her twisted horns, resembling those of a ram, protruded with several grotesque bumps.
Dark hair cascaded over her form, merging with the green chains that sprouted from her chest. She looked like a nightmarish fusion of flesh and darkness, a true embodiment of Hell's corruption.
Lilith had cast all semblance of humanity away.
'Looks like we're both sick of this game!' Seth continued his movement, a beam of golden light streaking through the battlefield. His heterochromatic wings were close to his back as he twisted and lunged at Lilith. His spear was poised for a fatal strike, aiming for the heart of the monstrous queen.
Seth lunged at her, tearing through the Nephilim that tried to get in his way. Several reanimated corpses launched themselves at him, but Seth raised his hand, summoning light constructs of colossal claymores. The blades burst forward at Mach speed, slicing through the Nephilim with brutal efficiency. The reanimated corpses disintegrated into ash and dust under the force of the constructs.
Seth continued his relentless advance, his spear glowing with elemental power as he closed in on Lilith. His movements were a blur, a golden streak against the dark chaos of the battlefield. Lilith reared back, a guttural growl escaping her lips as four wings, each resembling a different animal's, punched their way out of her back violently. The wings unfurled with a sickening snap, adding to her already nightmarish form.
With a snarl, she launched herself at Seth. The two met in a violent clash, the air around them crackling with energy. Seth's spear met Lilith's claws, sparks flying as metal and flesh collided. Her wings beat furiously, creating gusts of wind that tore through the city.
Lilith spun, her tail lashing out. Seth ducked and twisted, narrowly avoiding the strike. He thrust his spear forward, aiming for her heart. Lilith deflected with a wing swipe, summoning shadow tendrils that lashed out at Seth. He slashed through them, his spear glowing with elemental power as he counterattacked with a barrage of stone spikes.
Lilith conjured a barrier of green energy, shattering the spikes upon impact. She retaliated with sigils that unleashed fireballs, bolts of dark energy, and bursts of corrosive acid. Seth weaved through the barrage, his wings carrying him with fluid grace. With a sweep of his sword, he sent a shockwave of sound that scattered the sigils, disrupting her spells.
Lilith retaliated, her muscles enlarging as she lashed out with her claws, catching Seth across the chest. He grunted in pain but countered with a quick thrust of his spear, aiming for her throat. Lilith twisted her body, the spear cutting through one of her wings.
Undeterred, Seth followed up with a spinning kick to her midsection. The impact sent Lilith stumbling backward, but she quickly recovered, lunging forward with her jaws snapping. Seth blocked her bite with his forearm, the force crushing his gauntlet and drawing blood.
With a grunt, he drove his knee into her abdomen, then brought his elbow down on her back. Lilith roared, her wings spreading wide as she smashed her head into his torso, horns tearing through his cloak and aggravating his injuries. Swiftly, Seth struck her horns with his short blade and pushed, nearly cracking her neck and locking her horns away from him. In a flash, he stabbed a small knife through her neck. She thrashed and lashed out with her arms, but Seth ducked and drove another knife under her shoulder.
She swung her arm, a chain wrapping around Seth's leg and yanking him off balance. He crashed to the ground but rolled to his feet just in time to avoid her next attack. He jumped back, pulling the chain connected to his sword and sending Lilith hurling towards him. She swiped at him with her claws, but he parried with his spear, sparks flying from the clash of metal and bone. Using the momentum, he spun mid-flight, lashing out with a kick to her chest, the gunlock in his boot going off and sending her flying.
Seth raised his hand, a tiny stream of electricity circling between his thumb and middle finger. The electricity reappeared on the knives stuck in Lilith momentarily before a gigantic roaring dragon made of pure energy descended from above, smiting her with devastating force.
Seth rushed into the air, away from the epicenter. The entire clearing was bathed in light, the explosion strong and great. But as the dust settled, Lilith's form was encased in a glowing red shield, her flesh knitting back together. Though Seth noticed that the wounds on her chest were closing much slower than the rest.
Seth pointed his spear towards the ground, sending a torrent of flames racing towards Lilith. She swiftly raised her hands, summoning a swirling vortex of shadow that engulfed the flames, transforming them into black smoke. With a flick of her wrist, the smoke surged towards Seth, its tendrils wrapping around him like serpents.
Seth slashed through the smoke with his spear, the blade glowing with a radiant light that dispelled the darkness. Without pause, he thrust his spear into the ground, causing metal spikes to erupt and fly towards Lilith with deadly precision. Lilith summoned a barrier of green energy just in time, the spikes shattering harmlessly against it.
With a powerful beat of his wings, Seth closed the distance, his spear aimed at Lilith's chest. She brought her claws up to block, but he twisted the spear, deflecting her strike and plunging the blade into her shoulder. Dark blood sprayed, but Lilith used the momentum to slash at Seth's side, her claws digging deep.
Ignoring the pain, Seth yanked the spear free and spun around, delivering a backhand strike to Lilith's face. She staggered, and he followed up with a series of rapid thrusts, each one aimed at a vital point. Lilith managed to deflect most of them, but a few struck true, causing her to snarl in pain.
Lilith's chains lashed out again, wrapping around Seth's arms and legs. She pulled him close, her jaws opening wide. Seth reacted quickly, headbutting her with enough force to make her release him. He then drove his spear upward, piercing her chin and out through the top of her skull.
For a moment, Lilith's body convulsed, then went limp. Her torso burst open, a torrent of flames exploding outward, swallowing Seth's body and blasting him across the street. The flames cut through the air like a beam, scorching everything in their path. From within the beam, Seth's body burst forth, trailing embers and smoke.
He grabbed his aflame cloak and threw it off him, letting it burn to ashes in midair. Barely a foot off the ground, wings tucked tightly against his back, Seth lunged like a falcon. He crashed into Lilith's body with immense force, driving her off the ground and sending both crashing through the remnants of a stadium and out the other side through the industrial zone of Avaricia. The impact shattered concrete and steel, sending debris raining down around them like shrapnel.
Explosions rocked the battlefield as other combatants hesitated, recoiling from the fury of Seth and Lilith's relentless clash. The surrounding chaos seemed to part for their brutal struggle, their clash echoing through the shattered cityscape.
Seth and Lilith exchanged blows with unyielding ferocity. Seth's spear flashed in tight arcs, each swing aimed to cripple or kill. Lilith retaliated with dark magic, her claws leaving trails of corrupting energy in their wake.
Seth dodged a particularly vicious swipe, countering with a sweep of his spear that sent a wave of fire slicing through the air. Lilith conjured a barrier that absorbed the flames, redirecting the attack into a burst of corrosive smoke. Seth twisted through the air, using his monochrome wings to propel himself out of the smoke's reach.
He landed, only to leap again, driving his spear downward at the woman who burst from his shadow. Lilith met him with a surge of red energy that wrapped around the spear's shaft, trying to pull it from his grasp. Seth responded by channeling a torrent of ice trapping the two of them together
Lilith snarled, her fur ignited and evaporated the frozen locks. Her jaws snapped open wide as she tried to rip Seth's arms off. He blocked the vicious bite with his spear, using the force of her attack to drive the blade toward her heart. But the spear sliced through nothing but rotting flesh and exposed bone. Lilith's twisted form shifted unnaturally, her insides rearranging to avoid the fatal blow, her body becoming a grotesque mockery of flesh and bone.
"You think this pathetic trick will stop me?" Lilith hissed, voice far deeper and distorted to be a human's, her wings flapping furiously, creating a wind that sent debris flying. She grabbed the spear, yanking it deeper into her chest as she launched herself at Seth with renewed, frenzied rage. Her body twisted grotesquely, a limb bursting through her stomach, its jagged teeth sinking into Seth's side.
Seth roared in pain as jet-black blood gushed from his wound, burning through the writhing limb. Lilith howled as her flesh blistered and peeled away from the searing blood. "You're not the only one with tricks up their sleeves, First Whore!" Seth snarled, his blade cutting through the decaying limb as he drove it deep into Lilith's throat.
Lilith screeched, a sound that was more a twisted wail than a scream, her body convulsing violently as another set of jaws erupted from her flesh. It clamped around Seth's wing and twisted. Seth gritted his teeth, rage darkening his eyes. Ignoring the spike of pain from Lilith's tail stabbing through his shin, he grabbed Lilith by the skull, his fingers crushing her eye sockets in a vise grip, a blast of angelic energy blasting the upper half of her skull. With a roar of fury, he shoved the barrel of his shotgun into her throat and fired, blowing her head clean off.
Despite the decapitation, Lilith's body continued to thrash violently, dark blood and souls spilling out to absorb the damage. The two were tangled together, slamming through buildings and wreaking havoc in their wake. Wayward blasts from the battlefield streaked past them, the Ars Goetia scattering to avoid the chaotic struggle. A blast of flames slammed into them, but neither paid it any attention; it was too weak to hurt either of them.
Lilith's arm snapped forward, but Seth dodged just in time, a line of blood spilling from his neck. The limb broke unnaturally, and the bone pierced down between his shoulder blades, sending a jolt of pain through him. The jaw on his wing and the stinger through his shin gnawed relentlessly, tearing through flesh and breaking bones. Seth snarled in fury, grabbing his shotgun and using it like a battering ram. He smashed through Lilith's limbs, breaking them into bloody fragments. His foot slammed into her chest, the firing mechanism in his boot filling her torso with shards of angelic steel over and over.
Lilith's skull began to regenerate, only for Seth's spear shaft to shatter it again as they crashed into the ground. The impact was catastrophic, destroying everything in their path—buildings, Nephilim, and anything else unfortunate enough to be caught in their rampage.
Undeterred and enraged, Lilith's stumps flailed wildly, driving them into Seth's face. Shards of bone slashed at his skin, and dark energy swirled and amassed at the tips of her appendages next to his head. Seth fought to break free, but Lilith's body clung to him fiercely, new limbs holding him in place.
With a growl of defiance, Seth embraced the chaos. He drove his short blade deep into Lilith's chest, his attacks tearing through her decaying flesh. He channeled his fury into a relentless assault, his weapon glowing with brutal rhythm as he charged the Ziz sound attack within her body.
Surrounding them, Seth could feel the temperature drop as golden ice tried to encase them to contain the upcoming blast even as Baal's voice echoed through the clearing, commanding the Ars Goetia to spread away. He ignored the Fat Clown's warning that it was a bad idea.
The air around them vibrated violently with the buildup of energy. The chaotic whirl of demonic power and sonic force surged between the two combatants, creating a sphere of searing light and encroaching darkness that hummed with unstable energy.
The sphere shattered, and for a split second, the world seemed to hold its breath. Then, the explosion erupted with cataclysmic force.
A blinding flash of light consumed the area, followed by a deafening roar that seemed to tear through the very fabric of reality. The shockwave slammed into everything, obliterating nearby buildings in a spectacular cascade of debris and twisted metal. The force of the blast sent a tidal wave of fire and destruction ripping through the city, incinerating everything in its path.
The surrounding landscape was devastated, the once-proud city now a smoldering ruin. Flames surged upward, licking the sky with their ravenous tongues, while the earth quaked beneath the relentless force of the explosion. The explosion's remnants scattered for miles, leaving only devastation and scorched earth in its wake. A good chunk of the once-bustling city of Avaricia was now a wasteland.
When he came to be, Seth found himself lodged inside a building several miles away, his head lolling uncertainly as he lay sprawled on his back. The ringing in his ears nearly tore his mind apart. Absentmindedly, he heard a voice calling him, but it was too far away to understand. His entire body felt like one massive bruise.
With effort, he tilted his head down to look at his state. The entire front of his torso was burned and bloody, with the skin peeled off to reveal bones beneath. He tried to stand, but his body betrayed him, leaning and collapsing back into the rubble. His legs—or rather his left leg—couldn't support his weight. His right leg was a mess, missing a good chunk of flesh and his shin was broken.
Similarly, his arms were doing much better. He glanced down at his left stump, which was smearing the ground with jet-black blood. Settling back on the ground, he gazed at the stump, watching dark bones and gray flesh slowly knit together.
He let out a sigh and reached behind him, rummaging through his belt for a knife. After a while, he found one that wasn't too bent or molten. With an annoyed grunt, he positioned it a little distance from the stump where gray and pale skin met, and he pushed down, tearing into the dark flesh. He seared the wound with the angelic energy in his palm, the smell of burnt flesh filling the air. He tried to move his wings and found them barely unresponsive and covered in large splashes of black.
He was way too old for a helicopter mom.
He leaned back with a sigh, only to feel something far softer than expected behind him. Turning his gaze, he found himself leaning against a big red bird.
The creature lay sprawled on the ground, trembling slightly. Feathers were ruffled and askew, some of them stained with a dark, inky substance. Its wings were limp at its sides, and each breath was labored, a dazed grunt escaping its beak.
Ars Goetia.
The bird shifted, and Seth saw another of its kind lying beneath it, equally battered and worn. He frowned; the red maroon one probably tried to shield its white mate, only for Seth to slam into both.
"Sorry about that," Seth muttered, patting the bird in apology before he rose to his foot. He raised his hand, and his spear rushed into his hold from another building. Using his spear as a cane, he neared the hole in the building.
[Oi! You alive?! OI! Say something, you fahkin' cunt!] Mammon's voice echoed in his head. [Fahk me sideways, he don gotten-]
"Put a sock in it, would ya," Seth interrupted the fat clown's rant as he overlooked the city and the damage.
The sight before him was one of utter devastation. Buildings lay in ruins, streets were torn asunder, and fires raged unchecked. The air was thick with smoke and the acrid smell of burnt flesh. The battlefield was a chaotic mess, with bodies of Nephilim and other unfortunate beings scattered everywhere.
Seth's eyes scanned the horizon, taking in the aftermath of the explosion. His vision was still blurred, and his body ached with every movement, but he forced himself to focus. He needed to find Lilith and finish what they had started.
The city was a war zone. Fires burned uncontrolled, debris littered the streets, and the air was thick with smoke and the stench of burning flesh. Structures were reduced to rubble, and the cries of combatants echoed through the chaos. Seth took a deep breath, steadying himself against the overwhelming scene before him. He could see Nephilim and demonic soldiers clashing in the distance, their battles leaving trails of destruction in their wake.
His gaze shifted, searching for any sign of Lilith. The explosion had been massive, but he knew better than to assume she was dead. She was too resilient, too damn tough to be taken out so easily.
[You still with me, you fat bastard?] Seth grunted, adjusting his grip on the spear.
[Aye, aye, I'm here. Just checkin' on ya. You look like shit, mate.] Mammon's voice was laced with concern. Not for Seth, obviously. The Fat Lard was definitely more concerned about Lilith tearing him a new one if Seth failed.
"I've had worse," Seth replied, though he could feel the toll the battle had taken on his body. His wounds had stopped bleeding, but he knew he couldn't afford to let his guard down, especially with her creeping closer and closer. "This place's boundaries are getting weaker."
[That's why I fahking told you to calm your tits! This bloody place was already a last-minute addition,] the fat clown yelled, frustration boiling over. [There's no fucking way it can survive you two cunts throwing biggatons around. Bel—Ow! What the fuck, bitch! ...! ...I...uh...I mean, my enigmatic bloody helper will fix it in a couple of minutes, so chillax for a second.]
Seth scanned the air around him. The reality around them seemed to waver; the lines between this dimension and Hell were growing thin. He could sense the instability, the imminent collapse that threatened to throw them back into the Greed ring. Already, his eyes could spot several weak spots in the distortion.
Which meant that Lilith could see them, too.
"No, it's pointless. Leave it as it is and focus on preparing the barriers in case we get thrown back into the Greed Ring," Seth told him.
Mammon grumbled something under his breath, but Seth could sense the clown was following his instructions. The ground beneath him trembled slightly, the vibrations growing stronger as the dimensions continued to blur.
Seth's grip tightened on his spear as he readied himself. "She's not done yet," he muttered, scanning the ruins for any sign of movement. His eyes caught a glimpse of something shifting in the shadows, a flash of dark energy that darkened his mood.
On the other side of the city, a bundle of flesh hovered in the air, twisting and convulsing. Lilith's body slowly knit itself back to its original humanoid form, rather than the abomination it had become. But it was a slow process—merely the upper part of a body, a mess of shattered bones and flesh that ended at the base of the spine. Every time the flesh grew, it fell off, and bones were hollowed, forcing her to spend more and more souls. This was all due to the remnants of Seth's blade. The blade's pommel and guard were fashioned from the Ziz's bones and cooled in Rahab's blood.
Seth couldn't help but chuckle. While his gamble hadn't paid off for him, it seemed Lilith was in the same boat. The searing heat and massive explosion had fused the remnants of his weapons with Lilith's flesh, making regeneration far more costly than it used to be.
A beam of darkness streaked through the sky toward Lilith's form, only to glide along distorted space as her sole usable arm deflected it in the path of a Solar Flare. The attacks met and ceased to exist. A massive glacier of golden ice rushed her, only to get shattered by an air blast from a sigil that materialized next to her.
Still, it was only a matter of time before she regenerated, Seth admitted as he saw the three elders of the Ars Goetia try to bring her down with little success. A shadow of her full strength, she was still far above them.
And to be fair, Seth spared a glance at his stump; he wasn't doing all that well either. With his wings down, he was a sitting duck. Unless he wanted to spend the next ten minutes cleansing his body manually while Lilith tore through the Ars Goetia and the fat clown, he needed to find a way to—
"Get off me, you fucking imp-cock gurgling shithead!"
Seth turned around just in time to see the female kick the red one in the face and off her. Their forms blurred in shadows, and suddenly the two became much more humanoid looking, but the red one had now turned blue.
Still birds, though. Fancily dressed and all, but birds.
The male staggered back, his eyes narrowing as anger surged through him. "Oh, so that's the thanks I get for saving your miserable life? You can't even admit it, can you?"
"Saved my life?" the female spat, her voice dripping with contempt. "Don't make me laugh, you delusional prick. I had everything under control."
"Under control?" the male barked, his voice rising. "You were seconds away from getting skewered! But, of course, you can't admit that, can you, Stella? Just like you can't admit to hiring a damn assassin to kill me!"
"Oh, here we go again," the female sneered, storming across the debris-strewn office. She knocked over a chair, her wings flaring in anger. "Playing the victim like the pathetic loser you are."
Through the argument, Seth watched with mild amusement, leaning against a partially destroyed desk. The two were so engrossed in their heated exchange that they didn't notice him. As they continued to hurl insults at each other, Seth couldn't help but think that he might have been wrong about their relationship as mates.
"Victim?" His eyes blazed with fury as he followed her, stepping over shattered furniture. "You tried to have me murdered! And yet, I saved your worthless life today. Not because I wanted to, but because I wouldn't want Poor Via to lose her mother. Her psychotic, crazy, heartless bitch of a mother, but a mother nonetheless."
Her face twisted in rage as she whirled around to face him. "Don't you dare bring Octavia into this, you self-righteous bastard! You think fucking an imp makes you a man? You're just a pathetic, cock-sucking excuse for a demon, and everyone knows it!"
—or not.
Nevertheless, he had an idea. Seth put his spear down, grabbing two little pebbles. He held them between his fingers and launched them at the still-arguing pair at the speed of a bullet.
The male's eyes widened, and he hastily moved his head out of the way, while the female received a pebble to the forehead. The two turned around, Stolas muttering, "That was terribly rude..." while Stella let out a hail of curses. They quieted down as they finally realized he was there.
The male it was, then.
While Seth didn't know who they were, they definitely knew who he was. Of course, they did; he was the same guy their kings bowed their heads to.
Suddenly, the two became much more civil. The male coughed awkwardly while the female straightened her dress. "Lord Seth, apologies. We... we weren't aware you were here."
"Not a lord," Seth corrected, his tone indifferent.
Stolas inclined his head slightly. "Still, we didn't mean any disrespect."
Stella, her earlier fury replaced with forced composure, addressed him with more respect. "Lord Seth, I... didn't see you there. Apologies for the disturbance." She kept her tone measured, clearly acknowledging his superior status. Then, she looked down at his battered form. She pushed Stolas aside and pretended to care in an exaggerated manner while Stolas rolled his eyes at her antics.
"Oh my Lord-Not a lord-, look at you," Stella cooed, her voice dripping with insincere concern. "You're terribly hurt! We must do something about these injuries. Can't have someone of your standing looking so injured. If only there was some way to take your pain and give it to someone else."
Stolas, clearly unimpressed by her act, muttered under his breath, "As if you actually care."
'imp-fucker'
'says more about you'.
Stella growled at him.
Seth raised a hand to reassure her. "It's fine. I just needed your attention."
Stella's eyes flicked back to him, her forced smile faltering for a moment. "Of course, Lord Seth. We are at your service."
Stolas spoke again. "We... appreciate your understanding. Is there anything you require of us?"
Seth leveled his spear at the male and motioned for him to stand near the edge, his gaze firm and unyielding. "Transform," he commanded. The male adopted a confused look but complied nonetheless. With a resigned sigh, he began to change, his form shifting and growing. Feathers sprouted from his skin, his body expanding until he had morphed into a larger, maroon and black bird.
Seth watched with a critical eye, ensuring the male had fully assumed his new form before proceeding. "Good," he nodded in satisfaction. His foot landed on the Ars Goetia's back. "Let's go."
"Pardon?" Stolas asked, tilting his head in confusion.
Seth's grip tightened on his spear as he climbed onto Stolas's back. "I need a ride, and you're going to provide it." He looked down at the bird beneath him, his expression unyielding. "The First Hero has deemed you a fitting mount. Rejoice!"
Stolas sputtered, trying to process the sudden demand. "W-what? Me?"
Stella, standing to the side, couldn't contain her outrage. "Him?!" she yelled, her wings flaring out. "Why not choose someone more... capable?"
Seth spared her an unimpressed look as she suggested that she should be the one to do it. "Ride me, my lord!" she declared, her tone desperate to prove herself and mostly to spite Stolas. "I am far more capable and experienced than that fool."
Stolas shot her a glare, his feathers ruffling with irritation. "Stella, this is not the time for your petty games!"
Seth raised an eyebrow, his patience thinning. "Enough," he said sternly. "I made my decision. You, Stolas, will be my mount."
Stella's face twisted in fury, but she forced a smile, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "But Lord Seth, surely you would prefer someone of my stature and strength. I would not want you to be burdened by an inadequate ride."
Seth shook his head, his expression stern. "It wouldn't be fitting for a fair lady like you to be reduced to something like that." Seth bullshitted, having already made his decision and confident it was the correct one. The female was too desperate, too eager to prove herself, which made her unreliable in his eyes.
She was also loud. and not even the cute and sexy loud like Azura.
"But-!"
"No buts!" Seth turned his attention back to Stolas. "Now, fly. We have work to do."
Stolas, still bewildered but resigned, spread his wings and prepared for flight. Stella glared at Seth, her anger barely contained, but she held her tongue. As Stolas lifted off, Seth maintained his grip, his eyes focused on the horizon and the task ahead. He could feel the tension in Stolas's body. "Quite the woman."
"You have no idea," Stolas sighed. Below, the battlefield was alive once again as both Ars Goetia and Lilith's Nephilim and sinners rose, their clashes filling the atmosphere with spells and explosions.
"I don't think I need to tell you where to go," Seth said, looking straight ahead at the circling storm of energy at the center of the air where Lilith was nearly finished with her restoration.
Stolas nodded, his eyes narrowing with determination. "I could take an educated guess," he responded. With a powerful beat of his wings, he soared higher, angling toward the storm. The wind whipped around them, carrying the sounds of battle and the acrid scent of smoke and magic.
"Don't think of anything at all. You are just a mount. Do as a mount does, and fly," Seth addressed, jumping to his feet and brandishing his spear. "Leave anything else to me."
Lilith stood at the eye of the chaos, her body partially restored but still grotesque in its incompleteness. Dark energy swirled around her, creating a vortex that repelled the attackers from all sides. pells and attacks hurled at her from the Ars Goetia elders were effortlessly deflected or absorbed into the swirling maelstrom.
Her eyes never left their forms.
"Go," Seth ordered, and Stolas beat his wings and bolted through the air like an arrow, faster than anything he had ever managed before. Lilith raised her hand, and thousands of bodies lurched toward them, an overwhelming tide of undead. Stolas's eyes widened in horror, his beak opening to warn his rider, but before he could utter a sentence, the corpses were reduced to ashes by a flash of Seth's spear.
More attacks followed in rapid succession. Dark tendrils of energy shot toward them from all directions, writhing like snakes. Stolas maneuvered with incredible agility, his wings slicing through the air as he twisted and turned to avoid the onslaught. A beam of pure darkness came hurtling toward them, but Seth's weapon flashed, deflecting it with a burst of light that sent ripples through the surrounding chaos.
The air around them crackled with energy, the battlefield below a hellscape of rubble and carnage. Explosions of magic sent chunks of debris flying in all directions, forcing Stolas to dodge and weave through the falling rubble. Lilith's laughter echoed through the storm, a sound that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.
Stolas flew with all his might, his wings beating furiously to keep up with the relentless barrage. Bolts of energy, shards of ice, and bursts of flame came at them from every angle, but Seth's spear flashed with deadly precision, cutting through the chaos with unerring accuracy.
The closer they got to Lilith, the more intense the storm became. Stolas felt the heat of a nearby explosion singe his feathers as he narrowly avoided another attack. Seth stood on his back, balanced and unyielding, his eyes never leaving their target. A whirlwind of sharp stones and debris spun toward them, but Stolas executed a sharp dive, evading the deadly storm with breathtaking speed.
The angel on his back laughed loudly. "Not bad! Not bad at all!"
Seth's weapon was a blur of motion, deflecting projectiles and slicing through magical constructs with ease. The storm of energy surrounding Lilith pulsed and twisted, sending out shockwaves that shook the very air. Stolas powered through, his wings a blur as he pushed forward with all his strength.
A beam of light streaked towards them, faster than Stolas could react. The beam reached them and slammed into Seth's awaiting palm, pushing against it with immense force. Stolas felt his feathers nearly ignite from the heat, but Seth's command resonated. "Keep going!"
With a roar, Seth swung his arm widely, diverting the beam away from them and letting it pierce through the cityscape. Stolas gritted his beak and surged ahead, aiming directly for the eye of the storm where Lilith stood, her form almost completely restored.
As soon as they approached, Stolas felt his rider bend his knee. Seth lifted his stump, settling the shaft of his spear on it, his other hand grabbing the tail of his weapon. "Keep up!" he ordered, launching himself off Stolas's back and tearing through the air toward Lilith, leaving a sonic boom in his wake.
Stolas watched as Seth soared toward Lilith, his spear gleaming with an otherworldly light. He beat his wings to rise away, barely evading the mass of jaws and limbs that threatened to tear him apart.
Seth closed the distance with blinding speed, his spear aimed directly at Lilith. Thousands of her minions rushed in front of her to act as meat shields, but the spear tore through them effortlessly.
Lilith raised her hand, summoning a barrier of energy to intercept the attack. The spear struck, shattering the barrier with a thunderous crack. Seth's body bashed into Lilith, sending both hurtling toward the ground in a chaotic spiral
Seth's spear tore through the dust, its blade slamming into Lilith's neck. The Queen rolled with the blow, twisting her body to avoid a fatal strike. She retaliated with a backhand, her skeletal fingers slicing through the air. Seth ducked, feeling the wind of her swipe just above his head.
Seth pivoted, his spear arcing toward Lilith's midsection. She parried with a kick, the impact sending a shock up his weapon. Seth used the momentum to spin, delivering an elbow to Lilith's temple. She stumbled, black ichor spraying from the wound.
Lilith hissed and lunged at Seth, her clawed hand aimed at his throat. Spear discarded momentarily, Seth caught her wrist, his one good hand straining against her strength. With a surge of power, Seth twisted her arm and drove his knee into her ribs, cracking the brittle bones.
Lilith roared in pain, wrenching free and landing a punch to Seth's gut. He doubled over, but as she moved to strike again, he swept her legs out from under her. Lilith crashed to the ground, rolling and jumping away to avoid Seth's descending spear.
The spear bashed into the ground hard enough to detonate the clearing into a massive cloud of debris. He pushed through it toward Lilith, spear cocked back, only for his eyes to widen, finding himself face to face with the jaws of a Nephilim.
The abnormality was a grotesque structure, resembling the jagged edges of a demonic maw. It looked like it had been forged from rotting flesh and dark, twisted metal, giving it an eerie, decayed appearance. The flesh was mottled and decomposed, oozing a dark, putrid substance that added to its menacing presence.
Wrapped around this base were several tendrils that resembled sinewy, decayed vines. They pulsed and writhed with a sickly, greenish glow, as if they were alive and feeding off some dark energy.
'This i...?!'
Lilith's answered his unasked questin with a snarl. "A plasma cannon."
The Nephilim's jaws opened wider, the grotesque maw revealing a cannon glowing with a sickly, greenish light. The cannon roared to life, its energy building to a terrifying crescendo. Before he could react, it fired. The blast was a blinding beam of unholy light, tearing through the air with a deafening roar.
He was engulfed in the beam, swallowed whole by the relentless force. Pain seared through his body as the energy consumed him, every nerve ablaze with agony. His vision blurred, the world around him dissolving into a haze of light and pain. With a growl, he smashed his palm into the center of the beam, trying to deflect it. Teeth gritted hard enough to crack as he pushed his energy into his barriers, his sole good leg dragging across the ground.
The force of the blast was overwhelming, threatening to push him back and break through his defenses. His muscles strained, and sweat poured down his face as he fought against the immense power. The ground beneath him scorched and cracked, the heat from the beam nearly unbearable.
He roared in defiance, pouring every ounce of his strength into holding the beam at bay. The light was blinding, the noise deafening, and the pain excruciating, but he refused to yield. Inch by agonizing inch, he managed to deflect the beam, redirecting its energy away from him.
A flash of movement caught his eye, and Seth felt his concentration break as a fist crashed into his face. A four-winged Nephilim had snuck through the beam, sacrificing its body to accomplish its mission. As the Nephilim's body evaporated in the beam's unrelenting force, it succeeded in breaking Seth's defense.
The beam's full power crashed into Seth, lifting him off his feet. He was hurled backward, engulfed whole in the relentless energy.
Lilith's laughter echoed as she watched the beam cut through the air with a deafening roar, traveling for miles and slicing through the city like a hot knife through butter. Tens of millions of souls were sacrificed every second to fuel it. Buildings disintegrated in its path, the landscape scorched and scarred by its passage.
Lilith's laughter grew louder, a chilling sound that resonated through the devastated clearing. Her eyes gleamed with a sadistic delight as she watched the beam carve its path of destruction.
"All those souls, fueling this glorious annihilation. Do you hear their screams, Seth!? They sing for me. They scream for me!"she called out, her voice dripping with venomous glee. "This is the power of true sacrifice! The power to reshape th-!"
A distant glint caught her attention, her eyes widening too late to recognize it before the spear pierced through the weapon and tore through her side, lifting her off the ground and diverting the blast into the sky.
"Bastar..!" she gritted out, before she felt a chain wrap around her torso and snatch her, slamming her through the surrounding constructions. Lilith broke free as the chain retracted with the spear. She burst through the debris just in time to dodge the blasts of angelic power that crashed through it.
Rage bubbled within her as she spotted the form of the insolent child atop Paimon's brat. Sacrificing more souls, she reconstructed the weapon larger than before. Adam's child burst forward towards her just as she began charging her cannon.
Lilith's eyes narrowed with fury, her wings flaring out as she prepared to unleash the full power of her weapon. "You think you can stop me?" she hissed, her voice a venomous whisper. "I'll show you true power!" The cannon crackled with dark energy, the air around it distorting as it gathered strength.
Seth's form streaked through the sky, spear cocked back, blade glowing from how supercharged it was. "Mammon!" he warned the fat clown as he came within swinging distance.
The cannon launched, and his blade met the blast. Energy exploded around them, a brilliant clash of raw power as the entire city was bathed in blinding light. The blast expanded in a flash, and with a resounding crack, the dimension shattered, throwing everything into the Greed Ring.
Avaricia shook as the blast appeared through the Greed Ring, the sky painted with swirling energy. The sudden intrusion of power disrupted the usual chaotic yet predictable flow of greed-driven activity. Structures trembled, and the ground quaked as the massive energy wave spread across the ring.
Lilith, battered and bruised, landed hard, skidding across the ground as she tried to regain her footing. Her eyes scanned the area, taking in the chaos that now engulfed Avaricia. The air was thick with tension, the very atmosphere humming with residual energy from the blast.
Ragged breath quickly turned to elation. She was back in Hell.
Sparks glittered from the horizon, soon growing into massive blasts of holy light coursing toward her. The damn brat was still alive, but it didn't matter. This was her chance. Lilith slammed her palms into the ground, blue flames roaring into life and spreading, exploding into towering pillars of fire that intercepted the upcoming blasts and twirling across the city in a protective manner.
Adam's son was injured and his wings were unusable, so she ignored him for a moment as she focused all her attention on the seals across the ring. With a roar, Lilith flared all her power at Mammon's anti-teleportation barriers.
The air crackled with her energy. She poured everything she had into the assault, determined to break free from this prison. Her power surged, a relentless force battering against the restraints that held her, forcibly opening a distortion into space.
A small crack appeared, and her body twitched as she tried to forcibly relocate herself. A link was made in the Wrath ring, and Lilith attempted to teleport, only for pain to explode in her back as a massive scythe stabbed through her.
"As if I'll fucking let you, ya cunt!" Mammon's true demon form surged through green smoke, his presence a towering monstrosity of jagged armor and pulsing veins. His eight limbs, each ending in razor-sharp claws, descended upon Lilith with brutal precision.
The first claw raked across her back, tearing through flesh and muscle with sickening ease. Lilith screamed, her body arching in pain as blood sprayed from the deep gashes. Another limb followed, slicing through her shoulder, the force nearly severing her arm.
Mammon's third limb struck her side, claws ripping into her ribs and puncturing her lungs. Blood bubbled from her lips as she struggled to breathe, her vision blurring from the pain. The fourth claw gouged into her thigh, shredding muscle and tendon, leaving her leg a useless, bleeding mess.
The remaining limbs continued their assault, each strike methodical and merciless. One claw slashed across her chest, tearing through her flesh and exposing bone. Another plunged into her abdomen, twisting viciously as it tore through her internal organs.
Fury and hatred coursed through her veins as another scythe stabbed through her torso. With a snarl, Lilith's muscles tensed, and bone grew, trapping the scythe. She twirled her body, slamming Mammon's form into the ground. She lashed out, breaking his scythe before her fist crashed down on his chest.
Mammon swung at her, but she ducked, grabbing him by the neck. Her arms thrust to tear into him, but his tail battled back, encircling her. With a roar, she clamped her jaws across his face and tore down. Mammon let out a gut-wrenching scream.
She slammed him down, freeing her arm, and slammed her palm into his chest, releasing a massive jet of blue flames. The intense heat and force of the flames erupted from her hand, scorching his armor and searing his flesh. Mammon's body convulsed under the onslaught, his screams echoing as he was blasted away.
Desperation coursed through her veins as she tried to escape. She turned, and her eyes widened. Time seemed to slow into a crawling pace. Seth was less than a few feet away, arm moving in a striking arc, carrying a broken dark blade that emitted a sense of absolute rejection and wrongness. The weapon seemed to absorb light, its jagged edges glinting with an unnatural, malevolent sheen. It was as if the blade itself was forged from the essence of despair and hatred, an abomination that radiated an aura of dread.
The broken blade felt like a void, sucking the warmth and hope from the air around it. It was a perverse mockery of life and seemed to whisper of eternal suffering and damnation.
It felt like her.
Lilith's nerves ignited with a searing intensity, that familiar feeling of the enclosing jaws of death lurking close. She tried to move back, to retreat from the impending strike, but felt a hand push her toward her would-be killer. Panic surged through her as she realized the imminent danger, her heart pounding in her chest.
Seth's arm swung, muscles coiling and twisting as his veins darkened from her essence. His hair turned jet black, and his sclera shifted to a dark hue. At that moment, he accepted her. He commanded his soul to remember.
Remember that hatred.
Remember that fear.
Remember that regret.
Remember the father he failed.
The siblings he failed to save.
Remember his loving mother, and how he was forced to raise his sword against her
With a primal roar, Eve Chavah's firstborn struck. The blade cleaved through the air, a weapon born of despair aiming at its target. Lilith felt the sting of its touch, the raw, unrelenting agony of its cursed edge biting into her skin, and approaching her bared soul.
Time stopped.
And all creation rejoiced.
Seth felt his concentration break for a moment. A wave of harmony and acceptance swept through existence, tearing down all defenses in an all-encompassing embrace. The very fabric of reality seemed to hum with the purest notes of unity and love. It was as if the universe itself paused to welcome the Man closest to God.
The sensation was indescribable. It was a feeling of being whole, of every fractured part of existence finding its place and fitting perfectly. The stars twinkled with a newfound brightness, their light pulsing in time with the harmonious beat that echoed through the cosmos. The air was filled with a serene warmth, wrapping around all creation like a comforting blanket.
A beacon of hope and salvation. The Man closest to Good stood there, a figure of radiant purity and boundless love. His presence was a balm to the suffering, a light in the darkness. The souls of the damned, even in their torment, felt a moment of respite, a fleeting touch of grace that transcended their agony.
All creation paused, united in this singular moment of divine acceptance. The cosmos held its breath, basking in the glory of the First Father's ascension. It was a moment of profound connection, a reminder of the ultimate truth that bound every being together: the inherent goodness that lay at the heart of creation.
Heaven and Earth split apart, the void exalting creation with a chorus of silent praise. The First Father's throne shook the cosmos, sending ripples through the fabric of reality. A final bow in creation's grand celebration marked this pivotal moment
Every soul, damned or blessed, felt it. The embrace was gentle, yet so powerful it could not be denied. The whispers of fear and hatred were silenced, replaced by an overwhelming sense of peace. The sensation was like a long-lost memory of home, of a place where every being belonged and was cherished.
A mesmerizing spectacle that echoed through the souls of humanity. All felt his compassion.
All but one soul who cast its humanity aside.
With a roar, Seth pushed his blade forward, flesh breaking and bones shattering as he drove the body of his enemy into the ground. The impact was thunderous, the ground beneath them cracking under the force. An inhuman scream of agony echoed through the shattered landscape, a sound of pure torment as Seth's blade continued to pierce deeper, its cursed energy seeping into the soul's very essence.
'At last...' Seth sighed.
Seth's grip shook as he let go of the blade, leaving it plunged in the chest of the body. He looked down with a look of detachment on his face as he gazed at the flesh rejected by the Mercy of the Lord. The body twitched and convulsed violently, muscles spasming uncontrollably. The skin began to blister and peel, revealing raw, bloody tissue beneath.
The cursed energy of the blade seeped deeper, its malevolent power gnawing at the soul's essence. The flesh started to melt away, bubbling and hissing as it disintegrated, exposing bone that quickly blackened and crumbled. The body's eyes bulged in their sockets, blood vessels bursting and leaking crimson tears down its contorted face.
Veins and tendons snapped, retracting like broken strings, and the once-proud form was reduced to a grotesque, writhing mass of agony. The soul, unable to withstand the relentless assault, began to unravel. Wisps of ethereal energy tore away, each fragment dissipating into the air with a mournful wail.
As the cursed energy gnawed further, the body's chest heaved, and a sickening crack resonated through the air as ribs shattered and organs ruptured. The very marrow of the bones seemed to liquefy, seeping out through the cracks in the skeletal remains. The convulsions slowed, each twitch more feeble than the last, until finally, with a final shudder, the body lay still.
"You only have yourself to blame," Seth spoke lowly. "This is merely the consequence of not knowing your place."
He felt Mammon's large form land heavily beside him, the ground shaking under the weight of his true demon form. Mammon groaned in pain, his many limbs twitching from the earlier battle's toll. As he finally straightened, his eyes fell upon the twisted, charred husk at Seth's feet. His expression shifted from confusion to sheer fury as the realization dawned on him.
"Fucking bitch! Cunt-ass motherfucker! THAT BITCH RAN AWAY!" Mammon roared, his voice echoing through the devastated landscape. His eight limbs trembled with rage, claws digging into the ground as he unleashed a torrent of curses. "How the fuck did she manage to pull this off? In the middle of all this? That slippery fucking whore!"
At the last moment, when his father's ascension took creation, the teleportation barriers were shattered. At the brink of annihilation, she had substituted her body with the man at their feet.
The Radio Demon, Alastor.
The fallen body of Alastor lay twisted and broken, the smile still etched on his face even in death. Yet his wide eyes betrayed the fear and confusion that held him in his last moments.
It was too cruel an ending for anyone but Lilith, yet as he gazed down at the slim red-haired demon, as its soul was shattering, Seth couldn't feel an ounce of regret. The Radio Demon's demise, while cruel, was merely a matter of time. He had no intention of sparing any of that damned hotel's residents from the moment he heard of his father's death.
The Fat clown paced back and forth, his grotesque form casting long, distorted shadows in the flickering light of the aftermath. His eyes burned with a mixture of anger and desperation as he turned back to Seth. "Do you have any idea what you've done? That bitch is going to come back with a vengeance! She'll fucking kill us all!"
Seth remained calm, pulling the broken blade from the corpse and letting the body collapse into dust and ashes. "She won't," he said, his voice steady and resolute.
Mammon's eyes narrowed, suspicion and frustration mingling in his gaze. "And how the fuck can you be so sure?"
Seth held the blade close to Mammon, causing the Sin to immediately retreat a few steps. "While her flesh may have escaped, this blade made contact with her bared soul. The curse is already working its way through her essence."
Mammon's face twisted with a mixture of anger and fear as he processed Seth's words. Seth continued, his voice cold and unyielding. "Little by little, her soul will begin to shed parts of itself. Small fragment after small fragment, her body will soon follow. Until, before long, Lilith's soul will be reduced to a shattered canvas across the cracks of creation."
Mammon's anger simmered down, replaced by a grudging acceptance. He knew the power of the blade, knew the truth in Seth's words.
"Just like my older brother," Seth added, his tone devoid of emotion.
A fitting end.
"Mammon," Seth called, his voice cutting through the tension. The King of Greed made a humming noise in response, his eyes not leaving the pool of rotting flesh on the ground.
Seth turned to look at Mammon with a calm expression on his face. "Back at the mansion, you mentioned something that caught my attention. Something about the Sin of Sloth's lover."
Mammon's gaze flickered towards Seth, a mixture of annoyance and curiosity in his eyes. "Yeah, what about it?"
Seth's eyes narrowed slightly, his calm demeanor unwavering. "I need to know more. What exactly did you mean by that?"
Mammon let out a snort, his anger momentarily replaced by a sly grin. "Ah, that. Sloth's lover... that's a juicy bit of gossip, isn't it?" He shifted his weight, his many limbs twitching with a hint of amusement. "Sloth's got herself a bit of a plaything. Someone who's been stirring up quite a bit of trouble for as long as I could remember."
Seth raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "And who might this 'plaything' be?"
Mammon's face twisted in annoyance before he shrugged. "Ah, fuck it! Guess I owe ya that much." The Sin of Greed waved his hand across the air, a green portal opening and revealing the pink sky of the Sloth Ring. "Was planning to go and teabag lil Ozzie anyways."
In the celestial realm, the heavens seemed to sing in unison. The air was filled with a resplendent light, brighter than a thousand suns, yet soft and embracing. The moment Adam Kadmon ascended, a profound stillness settled over all of creation. Angels paused in their duties, their eyes wide with awe and reverence.
A wave of pure harmony and acceptance washed over everything. It was a feeling of complete unity, as if every particle of existence recognized and welcomed the First Father. The celestial beings felt a surge of bliss, an overwhelming sense of belonging and purpose.
Choirs of angels began to sing, their voices melding into a symphony of praise that echoed across the cosmos. The melody was one of joy, of reverence, and of an eternal bond that connected all living beings. The heavens themselves seemed to open, revealing the divine light that emanated from Adam Kadmon, a light that symbolized the ultimate connection between the Creator and the created.
The First Father's form descended gently, touching down onto the ethereal ground of Heaven. His presence radiated an aura of sublime tranquility and strength. The ground beneath him seemed to glow, responding to his divine essence.
The archangels were the first to approach, their wings shimmering with iridescent light. At once, the Archangels bowed their head in respect, and their knees bent.
"Rise," Adam said with a laugh, his voice warm and inviting. "I'm not so petty and arrogant to have old friends bow at my feet. I am no king to command, nor am I a master to order. I stand here with all creation as my equal."
The archangels and celestial beings stood, smiles spreading across their faces as they felt the warmth and humility radiating from Adam. The air in Heaven was filled with a sense of togetherness and mutual respect, a clear reminder that they were all part of the same family.
As the Regent in the Lord's absence, Michael, kneeling the closest to him finally raised her head to get a good look at Adam, she was struck by his transformed appearance. His lean muscles, sculpted with divine perfection, were bathed in the golden light of Heaven. His fair skin seemed to glow with an ethereal radiance, unmarred and pure.
A blue jewel, shimmering like a fragment of the sky itself, adorned the center of his chest. It was nestled within a golden cross that seemed to be etched directly onto his body, glowing with a celestial light that spoke of both his ancient wisdom and his eternal innocence. Dark roots crowned his head, transitioning into flowing locks of golden hair that framed his face with a radiant halo. His naked form exuded an aura of purity and strength, unmarred by any earthly imperfections.
For a moment, her breath caught in her throat. As her eyes met his, she felt her cheeks darken and grow warm, an unexpected blush spreading across her face. Traces of his old features remained clear to see, yet they seemed almost softer and more refined. His presence was both familiar and transcendent, a living embodiment of grace and power.
Adam's heterochromatic eyes were perhaps the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. His left eye was a deep, soulful blue, filled with a kindness and understanding that seemed to reach into the very depths of her being, while his right eye was golden, radiating warmth and an almost otherworldly light. The contrast was mesmerizing, each eye telling a story of compassion and divinity.
His smile was gentle, yet it held a strength that made her heart race. It was a smile that spoke of countless ages of wisdom, of battles fought and won, of a love for creation that was as boundless as the heavens themselves. As he stood there, illuminated by the divine light that seemed to emanate from his very being, Sera couldn't help but feel a profound sense of awe and reverence.
The angels around them seemed to fade into the background, their collective focus entirely on the First Father. Michael's thoughts were a whirlwind of emotions—admiration, respect, and an almost overwhelming sense of unworthiness. Yet, as Adam looked at her, she felt a wave of acceptance wash over her, a silent assurance that she was seen, known, and cherished.
Truly, the Man closest to God.
Seraphiel, her eyes shimmering with gratitude, stepped forward. Michael noticed her cheeks seemed to darken a fraction, and the effect seemed to spread to all her siblings. "It is good to have you back, Adam. Your presence alone has brought a renewed sense of purpose to us all," she said, her voice tinged with emotion.
Adam laughed again, a boyish hint to it that seemed to lighten the very air around him. "What's with the formal tone, Sera?" he said, his eyes twinkling. "We're all friends here. You and I go way back."
"Of course." Seraphiel's blush deepened, and she couldn't help but smile at his words. The other celestial beings around them relaxed, their initial awe giving way to genuine warmth and camaraderie. The tension that had lingered in the air dissolved.
Adam's arms reached out and grabbed one of the numerous Cherubim floating around him, singing his praise. He patted the small being gently as its praises grew louder and more joyful. The Cherub's wings fluttered with excitement, and its eyes sparkled with pure adoration.
Uriel stepped closer, arms spread in a welcoming gesture. "Your return means more to us than words can express, Man of Men."
Gabriel nodded, his eyes filled with affection. "It hasn't been too long, but Heaven hasn't been the same without you."
Adam tilted his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "You're making me self-conscious talking like that. Don't blame me if I get a big head."
" A little humility wouldn't hurt, but I suppose we can indulge you just this once." Cassiel stepped forward, his usually stern expression softened by a rare smile.
Haniel stepped forward, her wings shimmering with iridescent light. "We have much to catch up on, Adam. But for now, let's celebrate your return. It's a moment worth cherishing."
"Yeah," Raphael added, his voice warm. "Things have been... different."
"Yeah, you can say that again." Adam's arms reached out and grabbed one of the numerous Cherubim floating around him, singing his praise. He patted the small being gently as its praises grew louder and more joyful. The Cherub's wings fluttered with excitement, and its eyes sparkled with pure adoration. " I have a couple of things we need to talk about, but before that..."
"O Adam, Great Father, return of light, Bringer of dawn, ender of night. Your presence blesses us with grace, A beacon in this holy place."
The Cherubim's wings fluttered faster, creating a gentle breeze that swirled around Adam. Other Cherubim joined in the chorus, their voices blending into a beautiful symphony of adoration and reverence.
"Adam, Adam, source of love, Blessed by the heavens above. Your return brings joy untold, A story of the ages, forever bold."
Adam's smile widened as he listened to their heartfelt praise. He lifted the Cherub higher, The small being clung to him, its numerous eyes shining with a mixture of awe and happiness
Adam turned his gaze to the archangels, a gentle smile playing on his lips. The serene, almost angelic expression contrasted sharply with the words that followed.
"How do I turn this damn thing off? It's starting to piss me off."
Adam's back! And Lilith lives! The last was kinda obvious, can't really have her kick the bucket without meeting the Dickmaster.
And Stolas and his bitch wife are here too! You kinda notice that the story of creation is kinda slightly different depending on which character is narrating. That is on purpose.