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Chapter Text

Adam’s soul drifted aimlessly in the aether, a vast and boundless expanse where neither time nor space held meaning. His defeat at the hands of Zeus replayed in his mind, each blow and counter etched into his memory. Though he had fought valiantly for humanity, the battle was lost, and now he found himself in this nebulous void.
Still, it wasn't all bad, he supposed. Getting his body back, even for a short time, was definitely great. Hearing the cheers of his descendants, meeting his children again, having the chance to finally apologize to Cain and Abel for being a poor excuse of a father.

And then there was Eve, his beloved partner. In those few minutes, He remembered their love, fierce and unwavering, a bond forged in the innocence of Eden and tested by the harsh realities of the world. He remembered the feel of her hand in his, the sound of her voice, and the depth of her understanding.

He recalled the simple joys of Eden, the taste of ripe fruit, the warmth of the sun on his skin, and the companionship of animals. He remembered the excitement and trepidation of meeting Eve for the first time, their early days of exploration and learning together.

To hold her in his arms after all that time, to feel his beauiful Eve's lips on his own as he cupped her cheeks... It wasn't bad at all.

He'd fight a million Zeus a million times just for another second with them.
A shame he could only enjoy those moments briefly before his fight. He felt a bit bummed and tired from the loss. As the first man, he had hoped he would have emerged victorious, to set an example for all of humanity. Yet, despite his best efforts, he had been bested by the king of the gods.
"Wasn't I created to protect them?" Adam thought, his mind drifting back to the faces of his children and descendants. "I should have won..."
As Adam’s consciousness floated through the void, he began to feel a strange pull. It was as if the very fabric of reality was drawing him towards a new destination. For a moment, he was confused and considered ignoring it before he stopped.

A sense of familiarity took over his senses, and he turned his attention towards it, for the pull was not too dissimilar to what he felt before Brunhilde and her sisterts summoned him.

With his resolve made, Adam's essence burst toward the pull. Colors began to swirl around him, vibrant reds, oranges, and purples, coalescing into a fiery vortex. The sensation grew stronger, pulling him faster and faster until he was engulfed in a blinding light.
An instinct that beat like a burning drum inside his soul.

There was no mistaking this feeling.

His family needed him.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Adam’s eyes snapped open as he lay on his back in a white room, blaring lights glaring into his vision. A mortuary, his mind supplied the name of his location. A choking sound of sobs alerted him to the presence of another person in the room, and he turned his head to the side.

His eyes were greeted with the sight of a mop of white hair cut into an asymmetrical bob, shaking as the head it was attached to hung low, its owner trying her hardest to stifle her tears. "Adam..."

The first thing that clicked in his core was that the young woman must not have been of his blood. For what father cannot recognize their child? A Valkyrie, then. She certainly felt the same.

But Adam held nothing but the greatest respect for the valkyries. After all, what bastard would look down on them? Not him, that's for sure.
Not after Reginleif.

As far as he was concerned, they were far worthier of adoration than the so-called gods.

The second thing that clicked was that the girl was shedding tears over ...him?

Well, that simply won't do.

He pushed himself upwards, ignoring the ache in his back and with a soft tone of voice, one reserved only to reassure and calm his children, the First Man pleaded, "Do not cry."
He knew how the Valkyries were. To see one cry, to lose their composure, to shed their tears... It would be a stain to their pride and their dignity. So when the girl looked up, her eyes glistening with tears, and her expression showing confusion and a bit of frustration, he could only chuckle at the sight. "A warrior's tears are far too precious to be spilled over a foolish old man like me."

"A...Adam..." the Valkyrie spoke, her voice quivering and her body shaking, as she launched from her seat, rushing towards him. her feet wobbling and knees crashing into the floor as she knelt before him, her hands grabbing into the clothes he wore.

"You're..." she choked on her own words. "I saw... you. I saw her.. and the knife. I'm sorry...I'm sorry... I'm sorry. You were .....!!!"
"Dead?" Adam continued softly, his arms lifting the young woman off the ground. "I thought so, too. But, here I am. i guess that the First man isn't so easily triumphed."

He gave a small, self-depreciating chuckle. "It must be the work of a certain young woman who summoned me once more. Thank you. For coming to my aid once again."

The white-haired soldier merely shut her eyes tightly, letting the tears fall freely, though now they were tears of happiness and gratitude rather than sorrow. Adam felt humbled, to think that a girl whom he never met before thought so highly of him to cry over his death.

He was grateful.

He was truly grateful. He vowed that as long as he drew breath, he would live to not betray the high expectations the young woman placed on him.

As the young woman continued to release all her anguish, Adam's palm landed gently on her back, moving in a calming manner like he used to do whenever his daughters came for him wishing for comfort.
"Adam... I'm sorry. I failed you."

"Shhh..." He whispered, holding her close to his chest.

"It's not your fault. No one could have done anything. You were all caught unprepared. I can only blame my weakness."
"No! That's not..." The young woman said, shaking her head as she looked into his eyes. "We couldn't do anything... We lost... I couldn't stop her... I...couldn't..."

Adam's eyes widened as he saw the despair in the Valkyrie's face. He could sense the shame, the fear, the regret. All those emotions seemed to eat the girl from the inside, yet before he could offer any comforting words, the famed Valkyrie pride showed itself.

The young woman suddenly bolted upwards, standing in a clean salute, her fist placed firmly against her chest, where her heart was. "I, Lute, swear on my pride and in God's name that I will never allow any harm befall you ever again. I will never never fail you again, Sir!"

Lute.. What a fine name befitting of a fine warrior.

Adam's lips curved into a proud smile, as he looked up at the young Valkyrie, her eyes, once filled with sorrow, now shining with a resolute will. "I will be in your care, Lute."

He was the first. He was the oldest, and his blood and body were the foundation for the entire human race. Yet, now, his life would be in the hands of a mere young Valkyrie.
Adam was honored.

However, throughout the entire ordeal there was still something he wished to know. a question that he was barely able to contain.

"Say, Lute...."

He asked.

Lute's eyes widened, confusion marring her visage for several moments. "You don't remember...?" she murmured before she lowered her head.

For the next few minutes, Lute spoke.

Of events he had no recollections of...

Of events he had lived through....

of people he never knew...

of people he knew....

Of the Serpent.
Of this Lilith woman...
Of Adam...
And of Eve.

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Lucifer stood at the balcony of his mansion, his gaze lingering on the pride ring as memories of the Last Extermination flooded his mind. He recalled the chaos, the screams, and the finality of it all. His thoughts turned to Adam, the First Man, whom he had defeated but ultimately regretted the circumstances that led to his demise.
"Adam..." Lucifer's voice was soft, filled with a mix of emotions. He didn't regret his actions against Adam, who had become a twisted version of humanity. But there was a time when they were friends before everything went wrong.

Before Lucifer's arrogance doomed all creation.

Returning Adam's body to Heaven was a gesture of respect, a recognition of their shared history. Lucifer knew he was partially to blame for what had transpired, for allowing things to escalate to such a catastrophic event.

As he stood there, lost in thought, Lucifer's hand absentmindedly squeezed the rubber duck, a simple comfort in the face of his heavy thoughts. He wondered if there was a way to avoid such destruction in the future, a way to prevent similar tragedies from occurring again.

Turning away from the balcony, Lucifer's eyes fell on a huge portrait on the far wall, depicting his family smiling. He spoke to it, a question for his long-gone wife, Lilith. " Lily... what would you have done?"

There was no answer, only the silence of the mansion. Lucifer sighed, a weight settling on his shoulders. Despite his power and wisdom, some questions remained unanswered, some regrets lingered, and some wounds never truly healed.

Lucifer's gaze shifted from the portrait to the outside, where he could see the massive Heaven gate in the sky. It had been two weeks since the battle, and aside from retrieving Adam's body, Heaven had made no move.

A small part of him dared to hope that they were reconsidering their actions, that this was the beginning of a change towards a better future. But Samael, the Angel of Death, knew better. Heaven was unlikely to change its ways; they would deal with threats in their usual manner.

Only time would tell.

As if in response to his thoughts, the red sky of his kingdom began glowing. Lucifer's eyes narrowed, a mixture of anticipation and wariness in his expression. Lucifer steeled his nerves as he waited for the portal to materialize.

No.

'Something's wrong...' Lucifer's brows furrowed as his eyes focused on the sky. By now, he, alongside every resident of Hell, was too aware of what a portal used by exterminators looked like. they were perfect spheres created by angelic powers.
This was different.

This was not the work of an angel.

There was no magic he could sense. There were no circles.

This was no gate.

There was simply a massive gash in the red sky being brute-forced. The Firmament between the realms was ripped open.

And from the crack in the sky, a man fell.

The man righted his position in the sky, his body turning to look in Lucifer's direction. Even tens of miles away, Lucifer felt a chill go down his spine.

Brilliant golden eyes peered into his soul.

it can't be....

"SERPAAAAAAANT!" The all-too-familiar voice thundered through the air, its force carrying a destructive power that seemed to shake the very foundations of Hell. The ground trembled beneath Lucifer's feet as he watched in astonishment and dread.
The sound was not just a mere shout; it was a primal roar, echoing with centuries of pent-up rage and fury. It reverberated through the air, causing fissures to form in the ground and cracks to appear in the walls of buildings.

The atmosphere in the Pride Ring shifted, becoming charged with an electrifying energy. The air crackled with anticipation, and even the demons and damned souls could sense that something monumental was about to happen.

Adam was alive.

And he was pissed.

Chapter Text

"Say, Lute... Where's Eve? I wish to see her."

Regret was an all too familiar feeling for him. Yet, no matter how often he broke, he always forced himself to move forward. For them. For her. As long as he had her by his side, it would all be fine.

For Eve, he made an enemy of the gods. For her, it was all worth it. For Eve, he rejected heaven.

"She ate the forbidden apple," the gods had claimed. "Exile her! Banish her!" the gods echoed. Their proof? Nothing more than a half-eaten apple. Anyone with eyes could see that it could not have been hers. The bite was too large and too deep—a proof provided by 'The Prince of Lies.'

Justice was blind. The gods were blinder. To them, it mattered not. 

A clown circus masquerading as a court, the gods had already deemed her guilty before hearing of the supposed crime.

Eve was to be expelled from Paradise. To her, it mattered.

"Renounce her! Rebuke her! and you may remain eternal in Paradise," they asked of him.

He told them to eat shit.

Eve never touched the cursed fruit of knowledge, yet she was proclaimed guilty. In response, Adam devoured every damn apple on that tree in front of every god present.

They tasted like shit. To Adam, it mattered not.

If asked, those unripe apples were still the best damn meal he's ever had. With her hand in his, he made his own Paradise.

That was his story.

It was not the story Lute told him.

"Sir... Lady Eve is not here, not in Heaven. Most likely, she is in Hell. As a punishment for accepting the Fruit of Knowledge of Good and Evil from the Prince of Lies."

He failed.

Adam had failed his sole duty.

He was the one who ate the apple, yet he was in Heaven.

She never touched it. 

For the first time in his life, a seed of hatred entered his soul.

Towards the gods.

Towards a Heaven so foolish to discard his wife.

And most of all, towards himself.

"It's suicide!" Lute exclaimed as the gate guard—Peter, a part of him supplied Adam with his name—refused to open the gate for Adam. She tried to bodily stop him, a gesture that made him proud for a fleeting moment.

She was willing to stand up to him, genuinely concerned for his safety. She knew he would never hurt her, despite the vast difference in strength. She took her oath seriously. Telling her to stop or to wait was obviously out of the question, and Adam would rather be damned a thousand times before besmirching her honor.

"Lute!" Adam interrupted her.

"S-Sir!" Lute replied, snapping into position, an expression of hopefulness on her face.

 "I have no intention of dying," Adam addressed her with a grin, letting his Essence spread across the realm. The display of power seemed to cause a spark of electricity through her psyche. "I'll be going ahead. Gather the reinforcements and follow me."

A request that protected both his vow and hers.

With those words, Adam pushed forward, far faster than Lute could register. His fingers stabbed into the clouds beneath him, ripping the veil.

"Sir!" Lute cried out after him.

"I'm relying on you!" he yelled back. Hopefully, by the time Lute and Heaven's army arrives, Adam will have finished his job.


With a mighty push, he widened the tear and flew down through the Firmament.  immediately,  he  felt the weight of the void pressing down on his body attempting to rip him apart. Pain searing his vision, yet he kept pushing with gritted teeth.

Zeus' hits were far more vicious. Cain's words and Abel's body on that day were far more painful. The realization of his failure to his Eve was far, far worse.

Adam endured.

And emerged victorious.

He had entered Hell.

The moment Adam broke through, the pain was replaced by a feeling of weightlessness. He fell head first through the sky above a twisted parody of Paradise. The sky was a sickly red, and the air was thick with the stench of sulfur and despair.

"So this is Hell..."

His gaze swept across the land, taking note of the city below him. It was a massive sprawling mass, filled with twisting and winding roads and buildings. He could feel the rot of the realm try to seep into his soul

Suddenly, a distinct aroma reached him.  As the First Hunter, Adam was proud of the accuracy of his senses, particularly his sense of smell.  And above all, there was a certain scent he never allowed himself to forget.

The Fruit of Knowledge of Good and Evil

He could not mistake it.

Adam's expression darkened. His eyes narrowed as his lips curved into a grin, and his heart raced, its beat deafening, threatening to burst out of his chest.

"You can't hide, Serpent. I can smell it."

The fruit.

Eve's sin.

Adam could smell the faint aroma wafting across the skies. His gaze followed it to the source, tens of miles away.

There, atop a magnificent mansion, a figure stood. Adam's Intent rushed through the sky, hitting the serpent and rooting him in place. The wide eyes of the serpent made it clear that he recognized Adam.

Adam righted himself in the air and landed on the roof of a glowing large structure, his feet settling on the pink massive antenna, sparing a glance to the street below him. Like ants,  thousands and thousands of hell residents stood in shock as they gazed at Adam and the crack he left in the sky. They felt almost human, not too indifferent from his blood, yet far too twisted to be his.

A twisted mockery of his descendants, then.

Undoubtedly, it was another machination by the Serpent to test his patience.

The more he looked at those below him, the more a visceral, burning desire to obliterate them all and reduce them to ash ignited within his core, seething with an all-consuming fury. Hatred surged through his veins like molten lava, a wildfire of wrath and vengeance that threatened to consume him. His eyes blazed with a murderous intent, every muscle taut with the urge to unleash unparalleled devastation.

He wanted to see them scream, to watch their twisted forms writhe in agony as they were reduced to nothingness. Every fiber of his being screamed for retribution, a relentless, savage urge to incinerate everything in his path until only cinders and echoes of their torment remained.

They probably laughed at him s that whore stabbed him over and over. His eyes, once calm, now blazed with a murderous intent. Every fiber of his being throbbed with the need for vengeance, for obliteration. He wanted to see them suffer, to hear their screams as they writhed in agony, to reduce them to ash and echoes.

"I'll—"

But as the words formed in his mind and began to part his lips, a sudden shock seized him. His hand flew to his mouth, fingers clamping down as if to stop the curse from escaping. Surprised by his own reaction, he stood frozen, the storm of his emotions raging within, contained only by his own will.

Calm.

Adam commanded his soul.

Adam took a deep breath and wondered what had triggered such a violent surge of rage within him. Why had he felt such a visceral need to destroy, to annihilate? The descriptions he had used, the vivid imagery of suffering and destruction, troubled him. It was unlike him to harbor such intense hatred, such a desire for vengeance.

His children had always claimed he was too stoic. Aside from his love for his family, Adam had never been one for strong emotions.

And the phantom of the pain of a knife through his back...

The First Man shook his head. 'it must be Hell playing a trick on me, and magnifying my worst emotions.'

Nevertheless, his quarrel was not with them. So they deserved a warning. Adam took a deep breath and let his Essence flow through his lungs and vocal cords.

[Roar of the King]

"SERPEEEEENT!" he bellowed, his voice echoing throughout the infernal city. The very ground trembled beneath his feet, and the air vibrated with the sheer force of his cry. Buildings shook, and windows shattered as the sound waves rippled through the landscape. The denizens of Hell paused, both tormented and tormentor disrupted by the primal roar.

The sky itself seemed to darken in response, a testament to his raw power and unyielding determination. The declaration was unmistakable, sending a clear message to all who heard: Adam was here, and he was coming for the Serpent. His voice carried not just the weight of his rage, but also the promise of inevitable demise to all that came between them.

It was something he used frequently during his time on Earth. Whenever he ventured with his family hoping to settle in another place, he always made sure to issue a warning to any predators that lurked near. Just like back then, all those who heard him heeded his warning. By droves, the creatures below ran away from him or sought shelter inside their homes.

Even the damned had sense.

However, there was one fool among them, one idiot who chose to run towards him instead. A man with flaming wings. Lucifer, the ruler of Hell, or so the damn Serpent deemed to call himself.

"Adam, it's good to see you!" Lucifer called out as he flew next to Adam. He spared a look at the building they were atop before shrugging. His gaze returned to the First Man and a smirk threatened to rip his face in two. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you alive!"

Adam raised an eyebrow at the familiar tone the serpent used, so different from the scorn and vitriol that filled his voice last time they spoke. his gaze sweeping over the serpent's new form. Pale skin with rosy cheeks, draped in white clothing—it was nothing but an imitation of a human, forever inferior. The serpent was also short, very short.

"Did you think changing your form and name would keep you safe from me, Serpent?" Adam's voice was firm as he looked down at the beast, which had to fly to remain at eye level with him.

"Form? Oh, you mean my True Form! I'm sorry. I know that it was not a fair fight. It was the only way I could think of to save my Char-Char. To be fair, it's your fault for being a dickhead. " the Serpent shook his head in mock dismay. He pointed a finger at Adam condescendingly. "Hell, I'm even surprised that they let go down here. If I were you, I wouldn't dare show my face around here after y'know.... having your ass handed to you that badly, and then dying like a bitch."

Adam hummed. He figured that the Serpent would've enjoyed watching him die against Zeus. However, did the stupid snake believe himself capable of doing the same?

Intellect has never been the Serpent's strong suit.

 Adam supposed that was what he got for being merciful.  Back during that clown meeting of a trial, Adam spared the Serpent because he didn't wish to take a life in front of Eve's innocent eyes. He merely tore apart his arms and legs, a trait that all snakes seemed to suffer from after that.

Looking back, Adam should've put him down for good.

Adam let out a sigh. He had already come to terms with his loss. As such, the mocking of the Serpent did nothing to bother him. "I guess so. In the end, the fact that I died remains true. But, I will tell you something right now, Serpent. You are not Him."

Adam barely lost to Zeus. Even now, after all these years, the Serpent was still far, far too weak to even step on the same stage as the King of Gods.

"Him? Wait, is this like one of those new slang words I remember hearing some imps throwing that word around." Lucifer frowned and then let out a chuckle. "No. No, I'm not 'Him', whatever that means. That doesn't mean I can't fuck you up though. You're strong, Adam. Strong enough to scare the rest of the schmucks around here. But me, I'm the King of Hell, and as long as you're down here, that makes you: My. Bitch."

"Oh?" Adam asked, his smile not faltering a bit.  The First Man's hands tightened into fists, his knuckles cracking under the pressure.  "As charming as you are. I tire of this conversation, Serpent. You know why I'm here."

Lucifer chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he looked down at Adam's gut. "Here in Hell for a snack? Heard the fruit here is to die-!" The Serpent Joke died in his throat as Adam's Fist crashed into his chest. The cracking of his ribs was all the warning he received before he was launched out of the city and toward the horizon.

Lucifer's body arced through the air like a ragdoll, propelled by the force of Adam's blow. He crashed into the ground with a resounding thud, sending up a cloud of dust and debris. The impact created a shockwave that rippled through the desolate lands, shattering nearby rock formations and uprooting twisted, gnarled trees.

As Lucifer skidded across the ground, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake, he groaned in pain. His body ached from the force of the blow, and he struggled to regain his bearings. Slowly, he pushed himself up, his eyes blazing with a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

" Why the hell did you do that?" " He yelled, rubbing his chest.  He moved to stand, only for his knees to buckle underneath him. Lucifer felt bile rising in his throat and released it. His eyes were wide as he stared at the puddle of Golden blood in front of him. "What the fuck!?

Adam's landing stirred up a whirlwind of dust and debris, his presence a looming shadow over Lucifer. With an aura of quiet menace, he stared down at the fallen angel, his voice low and steady.

"It seems words won't be enough to loosen your tongue," Adam said, his tone icy and determined. "So be it. I'll ask again over your broken body."

Adam's words hung heavy in the air, a chilling prelude to the storm about to unfold. Lucifer, unfurling his wings in a defensive gesture, met Adam's gaze with a mixture of defiance and resignation.

"I do not want to fight you, Adam," Lucifer declared, his voice tinged with an unspoken threat.

Adam's expression remained calm, but there was a flicker of something primal in his eyes. As he rolled up his sleeves, his gaze shifted, his eyes transforming from a brilliant gold to a cold blue, marked with Six intersecting lines of red.

[Eyes of the Lord]

"It's not going to be a fight."

Chapter Text

"It's not going to be a fight."

"Huh?"

Lucifer felt like pulling his hair in annoyance as he stood, his injuries healed and his patience wearing thin. "Now's really not the time for cryptic bullshit," he said, raising his hand in a placating manner. "Look, my bad. I'll answer. What do you want?"

Adam remained silent, focusing on rolling up his sleeves and removing his shoes, a gesture that only fueled Lucifer's frustration. "Really, silent treatment? Real mature, Adam!" Lucifer exclaimed, his voice tinged with exasperation. "Fucks sake Adam, a bad joke is not a reason to start a fight!"

Adam's continued silence grated on Lucifer's nerves, his anger simmering beneath the surface. "Say something!" Lucifer demanded, his frustration boiling over into anger.

Adam finally stopped, his gaze locking onto Lucifer's with a disinterest that sent a shiver down Lucifer's spine. Adam's face remained neutral, but his eyes blazed crimson.

"I'm going to hurt you, Serpent."

"Wha-.!"Lucifer's retort died in his throat as Adam's form disappeared from his view, only to reappear with blinding speed. Pain exploded in his abdomen, the First Man's fist nearly turning his innards to mush. As his body was blasted away for the second time that day, a small part of Lucifer was glad he chose to skip breakfast. The impact sent him tumbling across the ground, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake.

Quickly, he righted his body and took to the sky, his six blood-red wings unfurled, revealing their glory as they pushed Lucifer several miles into the sky. He wiped the trail of warm liquid leaking from his lips with the back of his hand, then brought it up to his eyes to look at the bright golden blood staining his hand. A dark expression appeared on his face, his sclera turning from a sickly yellow color to crimson, reflecting his growing frustration.

Lucifer glared at the Exorcist standing on the ground, seemingly more concerned with staring at his fist with an unreadable expression than paying attention to Lucifer's plight.

Taking a deep breath, Lucifer closed his eyes to control his anger. No matter how fallen and how deep their animosity ran, a part of Lucifer had always cared for the First Man. Adam's revival was a welcomed sight. Lucifer did not wish to repeat what happened two weeks ago. However, if power was the only thing that could calm Adam...

Well, the title "King of Hell" was not for show.

If that's how you want it.

Returning his gaze to Adam, who was throwing some jabs with a disappointed expression, Lucifer let his Authority fuel his words. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

All he received in response was a raised eyebrow.

Adam disappeared again.

Lucifer's wings flared wide, conjuring a sphere of divine light around his body, dozens of overlapping shields of ethereal energy each enforcing it further. Each shield of ethereal energy enforced the next, creating an impenetrable barrier that only the Archangels could breach.

Yet, all it could accomplish was diverting Adam's fist mere centimeters away from Lucifer's head as the First Man's arm ripped through the defenses.

Both men clicked their tongues in annoyance but for different reasons.

With Adam's arm trapped inside the barrier, Lucifer willed his sphere to reform outward, reshaping itself into a prison, leaving Adam's body encased with his arm sticking out. Not wanting to miss the chance, Lucifer uttered words in the Language of the Beginning that would drive mortals to madness in a fraction of a second. He aimed two fingers at Adam's suspended form, then pointed down.

"F̴͕̪͚̘̤̽̑̂ą̶̧̡͉̠̞̱͙͇͚̯͇̂l̶̡̢͕̹͉̬̼̜̰͔͐͐̊̒̄̿̏̕ͅl̷̛̮͇͕̣̇͒̎̓͌͐̾̃̋̓͘."

Gravity increased ten thousand folds, crushing the First Man and the barrier from within, and hurling both into the ground. The resulting shock wave sent a ripple across the landscape, causing fissures to appear in the surrounding rocks. The pressure increased, the sphere cracking and collapsing inward, the air screaming in protest.

"I'm not done!" Lucifers declared, his Authority summoning chains of hellfire, each link as wide as a man's arm. The binds erupted from the ground and snaked toward Adam bypassing the barrier. The chains wrapped around Adam's head, limbs, and torso, burning with an intensity that could incinerate most beings.


Finally, Lucifer launched into the air, conjuring spears of light that rained down upon Adam. The spears struck with pinpoint accuracy, each explosion shaking the ground and lighting up the sky with flashes of divine brilliance.

Lucifer looked at the destruction and might of the spells working together. he had no idea how Adam returned, but it was clear that he had become stronger. Far stronger than before, the dull pain in his abdomen made that clear enough, however, even he wouldn't leave this unscathed. It wouldn't kill Adam- that was something he wished to avoid-, but it would make sure he sat his ass down

Lucifer continued his musings as he looked at where Adam's body was being crushed and burned. He could see nothing aside from the massive sphere of hell flames and holy energy ripping apart the ground.

Yet, whether it was his imagination or a trick of the light, he saw Adam stand.

He saw Adam's eyes look at him.

"Wha-"

They flashed red, and Lucifer's spells disappeared out of existence. leaving nothing but a massive crater where Adam stood.

As Lucifer watched in disbelief, Adam stood unscathed in the midst of the destruction. His eyes locked onto Lucifer's, and in that moment, Lucifer knew that something was terribly wrong.

Immediately, sensing the impending strike, Lucifer recreated his Sphere of Protection. This time, he reinforced it with hundreds of barriers. Each barrier shimmered with a different hue, indicating its unique defensive function. Some glowed with a brilliant blue, ready to absorb and neutralize incoming force. Others emitted a fiery red, primed to deflect and redirect any attacks. Together, they formed a layered shield around Lucifer, a complex web of defensive magic ready to repel even the most powerful of blows

It almost made him taunt the bastard to try his luck.


Almost.

But Adam didn't disappear as he expected him. Simply, Adam pointed two fingers, and he spoke.

He spoke the Language of the Creation.

Adam pointed his fingers down.


'No..'

Lucifer's blood ran cold.

"

F̴͕̪͚̘̤̽̑̂ą̶̧̡͉̠̞̱͙͇͚̯͇̂l̶̡̢͕̹͉̬̼̜̰͔͐͐̊̒̄̿̏̕ͅl̷̛̮͇͕̣̇͒̎̓͌͐̾̃̋̓͘."

."

The barriers Lucifer had erected shattered like glass, unable to withstand the sheer force of Adam's will. Lucifer was sent downwards hurtling through the air, his body twisting and contorting as if caught in a maelstrom.  


Gravity itself bent to Adam's will, pulling at Lucifer with an irresistible force. But Lucifer fought back. With a roar of defiance, he channeled his power, pushing back against the overwhelming force bearing down on him.

For a moment, it seemed as though Lucifer might succeed in resisting Adam's command. His muscles strained with the effort, and he felt a flicker of hope ignite within him.

He opened his mouth to invoke his own Authority, but then, with a suddenness that took him by surprise, Adam's leg lashed out, striking Lucifer with a force that sent shockwaves through his body. He cried out in pain as he was sent tumbling through the air, his body folding in two from the impact of Adam's kick.

As Lucifer soared through the air, his body contorted in agony from Adam's devastating kick, he crashed through the landscape, tearing through hills and sending debris flying in his wake. With a supreme effort, he managed to halt his momentum, coming to a shaky stop amidst the destruction.

Breathing heavily, Lucifer lifted his head, only to find a spear of blinding light mere inches from his face. He only had the time for his eyes to widen in realization.

The Spear detonated into a colossal explosion of holy energy that dwarfed the surrounding mountains.

The blast engulfed Lucifer in a blinding light, searing heat, and deafening noise. The shockwave ripped through the surroundings, shattering the nearby plateaus and shaking all of the Pride Ring. With a great effort and from within the blast, Lucifer let out a jet stream of Hell Flames. His flames strained against the overwhelming force, but they held, protecting him from the worst of the blast.

As the explosion subsided and the dust settled, Lucifer stood amidst the devastation, his body battered and singed, his head down.

His body was whole, but his mind was breaking apart.

Adam, who had died, had returned.

Adam, who was not a True Angel, had used the Spear of Light.

Adam, who was not an Archangel, had spoken the Language of Creation.

What the fuck?!

What the fuck?!

What the fuck?! What the fuck?! What the fuck?! What the fuck?! What the fuck?! What the fuck?! What the fuck?! What the fuck?! What the fuck?! What the fuck?! What the fuck?! What the fuck?! What the fuck?! What the fuck?! What the fuck?!

Lucifer's mind reeled as he struggled to understand what was happening. His thoughts raced, jumping from one explanation to another in a desperate attempt to make sense of the impossible.

Could Adam have been granted new powers in death? Had he made a pact with a higher power? Had HE returned? Was this some kind of elaborate illusion or trickery? Or perhaps Adam had been holding back his true strength all along, waiting for the perfect moment to unleash it.

FUCK!

None of the explanations seemed to fit, each one raising more questions than answers. Lucifer's head throbbed with the effort of trying to comprehend the incomprehensible.

Amid his mental turmoil, Lucifer's senses snapped to attention as he realized two critical truths:

First, Adam had vanished from his sight, which was pretty fucking bad as when that happened, Lucifer got punched or kicked. Hard.

Second, if Adam could copy the powers of Gravity and the Spear of Light, then that meant...

With a surge of panic, Lucifer's instincts urged him to take flight, but before his wings could propel him skyward, the Chains of Hell erupted from the ground, ensnaring his limbs and grounding him in place.

As if in cruel response to his first question, a tingling sensation crawled up Lucifer's neck, Trapped by the infernal chains, he could only twist his neck to glimpse Adam behind him, his arm pulled back with a sphere of Gravity enveloping his fist.

"Ah, Fuck o-!..." Lucifer's curse was cut short as Adam's fist crashed into the crown of his head with devastating force. Darkness enveloped him, his consciousness slipping away as the world faded to black.

"A realm within a realm..?" Adam wondered as he looked down from the gigantic hole in the ground. After punching the Serpent, the beast crashed downward. "No, it's different from the barrier between Heaven and Hell."

For a moment, Adam dreaded having to unbury the beast from the ground, yet as he looked, he found something interesting. Nearly a hundred kilometers down, the dirt and rock seemed to stop. And from the hole, Adam could see that there was an entire city underneath.

It seemed that this ring's ground was the sky of the ring below it.

Which was cool.

Luckily for him, he could see the Serpent's body lying in a crater down there.


Still, there was a problem.

Adam hummed in contemplation before raising his hand to look at it. Or rather, the many wounds on it.

Oddly, these wounds weren't from the Serpent's attack. Despite the creature's strength, it hadn't been able to break Adam's skin.

No, these wounds were a result of Adam's own power.

For some reason, his body seemed unable to contain his powers. His movements were too stiff as if it was unused to Adam's style.

The only time something like this had happened was against Zeus when his [Eyes of the Lord] started breaking apart.

And speaking of that, his Divine Reflection was also weakened. Back against Zeus, his reflection was almost precognitive. But now, it seemed to be lagging. [Eyes of the Lord] should have copied the Serpent's spells before he even finished chanting them.

He didn't know whether his condition was a result of him overexerting it or as a result of his death.

He also bled gold now.

It didn't taste like gold.

At this rate, if he tried using Zeus's cool punch, he'd just blow his arm off.

Bummer.


'Ah well, it doesn't matter,' Adam thought as he stood up. He'd think about it later.

For now, he had stuff to do.

And would you look at that? The Serpent was up.

And its power rose a bit too.

How cute.

Adam jumped down.

Chapter Text

Adam descended through the hole, his white tunic fluttering in the wind.

The first thing he noticed was the oppressive heat. The air was thick and heavy, making breathing a bit annoying. Despite the discomfort, his focus remained sharp as he took in the strange mix of environments below.

The city sprawled out before him, a vast expanse of contrasting styles. Dusty streets, reminiscent of a wild west town, snaked between wooden buildings that seemed frozen in time. Yet, towering above these relics of the past were modern skyscrapers, their glass facades reflecting the hellish light.

In the distance, a massive mansion caught Adam's attention. It was a stark contrast to its surroundings, its sleek, modern design standing out against the rustic backdrop. Perched atop the mansion was a colossal statue of a dumbbell wearing a cowboy hat, a bizarre and whimsical sight in the middle of the inferno.

Huh.

Adam took it all in stride. "Wild West meets the modern City with a cowboy dumbbell. Hell really is something," he thought, scratching his chin lightly.

It was the volcanoes on the horizon that truly captured Adam's gaze. Far larger than their kin on Earth, the towering mountains of fire and molten rock dominated the landscape, their peaks glowing with an otherworldly light. Rivers of lava flowed down their slopes, carving through the barren terrain and painting it in shades of red and orange.

As he neared the ground, Adam's descent slowed, Gravity releasing her hold of him,  and he landed gracefully. He scanned the surroundings, noting the mix of demons and damned souls in the streets. They eyed him warily, a blend of curiosity and fear in their expressions.

They were different from the inhabitants above. The demons of the first realm he landed in varied in form and design.

Their essence had a distinct feeling, their souls tinged with an almost human-like echo. For a moment, Adam thought of them as his children. Yet he felt nothing from them, no connection like he had felt when seeing Peter or the familiar bond he felt as he walked with Lute through Heaven.

So, it was clear that the creatures in the First Ring were not his. During his brief incarnation, Adam had known what his fallen descendants had felt like for the first time.

They were broken and rotten, yet even in Hell, their souls remained pure. Those in the city above were tainted with a filth that reached their souls, connecting to something vile.

A mockery of his children, he deduced.

The demons of this Ring, in comparison, were neither. They didn't feel like his children nor like the caricatures above.

They merely were.

He let them be, they were no enemies of his. He turned his gaze to look at the rising cloud of dust some kilometers away, the place where the Serpent fell. A singular step and he was at the mouth of the crater looking down at the Serpent's kneeling form.


The Serpent raised his head.

Adam noted that the Serpent's visage changed, crimson sclera surrounding yellow eyes looking at Adam, a dark hand over his mouth. A pair of large red horns emerged from his forehead with a flickering ball of hell flame levitating in between them. Numerous eyes appeared over the Serpent's attire.

The Serpent slowly removed his hand and spoke with a low resignation.

 
"This ends now, Adam. You're strong, probably stronger than anyone I've ever fought" His wings spread as he rose slowly from the crater, a frown on his face. " "I don't know what has happened to you, but I will not let you rampage unchecked."


Adam said nothing, simply tilting his head with a smirk.


Adam Lucifer's eyes narrowed, and with a powerful flap of his wings, he launched himself into the air, clasping his hands.

For the first since his fall, Samael spoke.

As Lucifer spoke, the scenery around them changed. The dull yellow sky of Hell was replaced with an ever-changing view of the cosmos, swirling galaxies, and distant stars.

Adam smiled. "Come."

As Lucifer raised his arms, two spheres formed—one radiated a brilliant, holy light, while the other crackled with intense, hellish flames. The contrasting energies danced around each other, creating an eerie yet mesmerizing display. With a swift thrust, he launched them at lightning speed, aimed directly at Adam.

The spheres hit their mark with a thunderous impact, exploding on contact. When the cloud of smoke and light subsided, it revealed Adam standing unharmed, surrounded by a thin sphere of ethereal light that shimmered with protective energy.

Lucifer's eyes narrowed as he realized the extent of Adam's power. "He copied that too?!" he thought, his expression twisting into a glare of frustration and disbelief.

With a fierce cry, Lucifer unleashed spells of power that shook Hell itself. Bolts of lightning crackled through the air, meteors streaked across the sky, and pillars of fire erupted from the ground. Each spell aimed at Adam with deadly accuracy, but the First Man moved with a grace that belied his size, dodging and weaving through the onslaught.

The destruction they wrought was catastrophic. Buildings crumbled, mountains shattered, and the very fabric of Hell seemed to quake in fear. The landscape changed with each strike, twisting and warping under the might of the King of Hell's magic.

With a growl, Lucifer conjured several black lightning bolts and launched them at Adam with a furious roar. The bolts crackled with dark energy, lashing out like vipers seeking their prey.

Adam, unfazed, raised his arm to bat away the first bolt with a casual swipe. He caught the second bolt with his other hand, gripping it tightly. With a grunt of effort, he hurled the bolt back at Lucifer, the dark energy trailing behind it like a comet's tail.

The bolt streaked through the air, closing the distance between them in an instant. Lucifer, with a snarl, raised a barrier of ethereal energy, deflecting the bolt. "Damn monster!" he cursed, preparing for Adam's next move.

As the barrier dissipated, Lucifer's vision was filled with the sight of Adam's fist hurtling towards him. In a split-second decision, Lucifer opened a small portal in front of the fist and another next to Adam's head. The result was Adam's fist disappearing into the portal, only to reappear next to his own head, aimed at punching himself.

Adam, caught by surprise, reacted swiftly. He brought his other hand up t, halting its momentum just inches from his face. Despite the unexpected turn of events, Adam's expression remained calm and focused.

Magnetism Magic flared, affecting both of them and launching them in opposite directions. The force of the spell sent Lucifer hurtling backward, crashing through a row of dilapidated buildings that exploded into debris upon impact. Adam was similarly thrown, his form a blur as he smashed into a distant cliffside, the rock face shattering around him.

All to avoid being in close combat distance with the First Man.

Lucifer was the first to recover, his wings beating furiously as he hovered above the wreckage.

"Let's see you punch this, fucker," Lucifer muttered. He extended his hands in front of him, forming a vaguely diamond-shaped "tunnel" by keeping the fingers on each hand together, overlapping the index finger on one hand with the pinky of the other, and overlapping the thumbs.

A gray Magic Circle materialized in front of his palms. It flared, and a beam of light was fired from it, streaking through the air, aimed directly at Adam.

Adam pushed himself from the cliffside debris, his eyes locking onto the incoming beam. He moved with incredible speed, leaping out of the way just in time.

The beam struck the cliff, and instantly detonated into a kilometer-wide sphere, deleting everything inside it. The landscape was obliterated in an instant, leaving behind a massive crater that glowed with residual energy.

Adam landed a safe distance away, his gaze fixed on the destruction. He took it in stride, not letting the overwhelming display of power deter him. Still, he'd rather not get hit with that.

Lucifer, still hovering, recharged his spells, sending beam after beam of matter deletion. Each beam cut through the air with deadly precision, aimed to disintegrate anything in its path.

Adam dodged the first beam with a swift leap, the second with a roll, and threw a rock at the third before it got close. His movements were fluid, each dodge slowly but surely closing the distance between the two. The landscape around them was in constant flux, beams carving through rock and soil, leaving nothing but voids in their wake.

Lucifer's frustration grew with each miss. "Stand still, damn it!" he snarled, pouring more energy into his next attack. He conjured a series of smaller, rapid-fire beams, hoping to overwhelm Adam with sheer volume.


The standoff continued for what felt like an eternity. Lucifer conjured more spells, trying to hide his beams using illusions and misdirection, but to no avail. Adam's keen instincts and unrelenting determination saw him through every trick. With each step, he closed the gap.

Thirty kilometers.

Twenty-six kilometers.

Nineteen kilometers.

Eighteen kilometers.

Lucifer's frustration mounted with each passing moment. "Why won't you just fall?" he shouted, pouring even more energy into his attacks. He conjured storms of fire and ice, torrents of lightning, and waves of dark energy, but Adam moved with supernatural grace, dodging, deflecting, and pushing forward.

Sixteen kilometers.

Fourteen kilometers.

Lucifer's eyes widened as he realized how futile his efforts were becoming. "Stay away, damn it!" he bellowed, his voice tinged with desperation. He summoned a massive vortex of destructive energy, hoping to engulf Adam .

Twelve kilometers.

Ten kilometers.

Adam pushed through the vortex, his body straining against the force but never slowing. His focus remained unbroken, his eyes locked onto Lucifer. The ground trembled with each step, the landscape around them a chaotic strom of raw power.

Eight kilometers.

Six kilometers.

Panic grew inside Lucifer. He almost took a step back before he stopped. He was the Fucking Morningstar. He was not going to panic against a mere human.

He took a deep breath and unleashed his beams again. This time, he broke each beam into ten, and each of those ten into ten more. Before they could even travel less than a meter, they disappeared.

Thousands of small portals surrounded Adam, and from them, the beams reappeared. Each one that missed simply entered and exited from another portal. Adam was trapped, and with each dodge, the portals kept getting closer.

Adam's movements were relentless, his focus unwavering. He dodged left and right, each evasion becoming tighter as the portals closed in. The beams created a labyrinth of deadly energy around him, but he navigated it with precision, his instincts guiding him.

Then, Adam was hit in the back.

Time slowed, each second feeling like an eternity.

Lucifer saw Adam's face as the transparent sphere began growing, swallowing his body.

Elation started spreading through Lucifer's whole being. 'Finally,' he thought, his voice filled with a mix of relief and triumph.


Yet, as the sphere reached its maximum volume, Adam smiled.

The scene unfolded in a split second, yet each moment stretched out like an eternity. Lucifer watched in horror as Adam's smile grew, defying the inevitable. The sphere reached its maximum volume, enveloping Adam's body, but his smile remained.

It shouldn't have been possible.

The duration of the spell was almost instantaneous. From the moment the attack hit to its collapse lasted no more than a fraction of a nanosecond. The distance between them was several miles, and sound could never reach Lucifer in that time.

Yet, Adam spoke.

And Lucifer heard him.

"Repel."

The force of the repulsion sent shockwaves through the air, the fabric of the surrounding space rippling from the intensity. Lucifer's eyes widened in disbelief as he saw it. In an instant, the sphere of destructive energy was blasted into the distance as Adam was launched forward.

Adam's fist struck.

Two inches.

Terror flared through Lucifer's being. Still, through instinct or luck, he managed to open a portal in front of his face, and a second next to Adam's face. Mere millimeters away, Adam should have had no time to block. Lucifer attempted to separate them again, but before he could, his jaw shattered as Adam's fist crashed into his face from the side.

From a third portal.

"Even a monkey can see a pattern," Adam told reminded him with a manic grin.

The impact was cataclysmic. Lucifer felt as though his entire being was being torn asunder. Adam's blow shattered his defenses, sending him hurtling backward with unimaginable force. The ground trembled beneath them, cracks spreading like spiderwebs from the point of impact.

Lucifer crashed into a nearby mountain, the collision doing little to stop his momentum. Summoning whatever focus he had left, he opened a portal and corrected his direction, launching himself into the sky.

Where was Adam?!

Barely able to halt himself in the air, Lucifer tried to cast a defensive spell, but all that came out was a cacophony of gurgled groans. His jaws hadn't finished healing.

He attempted to teleport away, but pain exploded in his body as he felt something smash into him. Fear filled his core as he felt a pair of strong hands clasp onto the back of his neck and upper right wing.

"You know, from the moment I saw, something bothered me." Adam's voice came from behind him. Lucifer felt Adam's feet settle on his smaller back. "Six is a bit much, don't you think?"

Lucifer's heart sank as Adam's grip tightened.

"AAAAGH!" Lucifer released a primal scream, his voice filled with rage and desperation. He knew what was coming next. He started struggling harder, using whatever strength he could muster to try and get Adam away from him. He unleashed spell after spell, uncaring of the destruction he caused. Rocks and debris flew around them, but Adam's hold remained firm.

Lucifer's eyes darted around frantically, searching for any way out. But Adam's grip was like a vice, unyielding and relentless. He felt a surge of fear and desperation unlike anything he had ever experienced.

No...

Please!

no!no!no!no!NO!NO!NO!NO!NO!NO!NO!NO!NO!NO!NO!NO!NO!NO!NO!

"Repel."

As Adam's command rang out, a powerful force erupted from him, sending Lucifer hurtling away. With a sickening snap, one of Lucifer's wings was torn from his back, leaving him screaming in agony as he crashed to the ground below.

Lucifer's hand trembled as he reached behind him, feeling the absence where his wing once stood. He could hardly comprehend the loss, the searing pain of it radiating through his entire being. Tears welled up in his eyes, a mixture of physical agony and deep emotional anguish.

"No... no..." he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sounds of destruction around him. His mind raced with disbelief and despair.

As Lucifer lay there, his hand still trembling, his mind descended into a dark abyss. The loss of his wing echoed through his being, a constant reminder of his defeat.

"I'M GONNA KILL HIM! I'M GONNA RIP HIM APART! MAKE HIM SUFFER!!!"

The words echoed in his mind, a mantra of rage and hatred that consumed his thoughts. Each syllable dripped with venom, each repetition driving him further into madness. The pain, both physical and emotional, fueled his fury, twisting his features into a grotesque mask of hatred.

"I'LL DESTROY HIM! I'LL TEAR HIM APART! MAKE HIM REGRET EVER CROSSING ME!!!"

The words echoed through his being, a promise of vengeance that burned like a flame in the darkness of his mind. His eyes glowed with a manic light, his body trembling with unrestrained fury.

Lucifer's eyes locked onto Adam as he landed, burning with a fierce intensity. He could feel the hatred boiling inside him, a seething cauldron of fury and despair. The innocent smile Adam offered only fueled the flames, stoking the fires of his rage.

With a snarl, Lucifer pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the pain that shot through his body. He staggered towards Adam, his movements filled with primal ferocity.

"You think... this changes anything?" Lucifer spat, his voice laced with venom. He pointed a trembling finger at Adam, his gaze filled with a murderous intent. "I'll destroy you. I'll tear you apart, piece by piece. I'll make you suffer for eternity!"

Adam's smile didn't waver as he watched Lucifer approach. He remained calm, his demeanor almost serene in contrast to Lucifer's rage.

"I'll FUCKING KILL YOU!!" Lucifer screamed, his voice echoing through the desolate landscape.

"Make that 'We will fucking kill you,'" a voice stated from above.

Flying above the two was a giant of a man, his presence commanding and intimidating. He had four yellow eyes, devoid of pupils, set in a face with red skin, bulging muscles, and streaks of golden lava running across his body. He was dressed in a dark mixture of a cowboy outfit and armor, his draconic features accentuated by a pair of massive dragon wings.

"Satan..." Lucifer muttered, a mix of relief and apprehension in his voice, as the new arrival landed next to him.

"Your Majesty," Satan replied, his expression dark and menacing as he glared at the First Man. "It's been a while, First Man."

Adam regarded Satan with a curious expression, unfazed by his intimidating presence. "And you are?"

"The fool is a role that always seemed to fit you, yet now is not the time for it," the ruler of the second ring growled. His eyes burned with a fierce intensity as he stepped forward, his towering figure casting a long shadow over the battlefield. "You know who I am."


"Do I?" Adam wondered, genuinely confused. "Well, it matters not. Whoever you might be, I do not quarrel with you."


 "You say that as you wreak havoc in my kingdom?!" Satan's voice thundered, echoing through the desolate landscape.

"Don't blame me, he's the one who kept running away," Adam shrugged, nodding his head in Lucifer's direction. His tone was casual, almost nonchalant, further enraging both demons.


 "So be it, First Man," Satan's voice boomed, shaking the very ground they stood upon. "If you claim to have forgotten who I am, then let me remind you!"


Satan's roar echoed across the desolate landscape, the very air around him shimmering with intense heat. As he spoke, his form was consumed by hellfire, the flames swirling around him in a fierce inferno. With each passing moment, he grew larger and more imposing, his body transforming into that of a great black dragon.

His scales gleamed with a dark luster, reflecting the flickering flames that enveloped him. His eyes, now glowing with a malevolent light, locked onto Adam with unbridled fury. The ground beneath him trembled, unable to withstand the sheer force of his wrath.

"I AM THE WRATH OF HELL!"

Adam nodded.

"Well met."

Chapter Text

This shit ain't proofread, but damn it, I'm not breaking my chapter-a-day streak!

Her mind was a whirlwind, emotions haywire as she followed after Adam. Alive. Adam was alive, even though she saw him... and she failed him... but he was walking in front of her.

Adam was alive. He asked weird questions and talked in a too-soft voice, but that was okay. He was alive.

How? How was he here? She had seen him die. Seen the blood, felt the loss. Felt the emptiness. She had failed him. She had let him die. But now he was walking ahead of her, strong and determined. How?

Every step he took, her heart raced faster. Her breaths came in short, uneven gasps. How could he be here? She had seen his death. The knife. The blood. The silence. It haunted her. Her hand trembled. She clenched it into a fist. Had to be strong. Had to be steady. For him. For herself. Couldn’t let her emotions betray her. Not now.

Guilt. So much guilt. How could she let this happen? How could she fail him so completely? The memory of his death. A gaping wound. Fresh. Raw. She could still see it every time she closed her eyes. The way his body crumpled. The life leaving his eyes. But now, he was here. Walking. Breathing. Talking.

Gratitude. Fierce. Burning. He was back. Given back to her. Wanted to fall to her knees. Wanted to weep. Wanted to scream at the heavens for this miracle. But she couldn’t. Had to remain composed. Had to be strong. Had to be the weapon he needed.

Tears threatened. Guilt and relief mixing. A mess inside her. Wanted to cry out. Beg for forgiveness. Tell him how sorry she was. But he would never accept her blame. He would comfort her. Again. She would break even more. His kindness. His understanding. Precious. Undeserving.

Hope. Fragile. Delicate. A tiny flame. Dared not let it grow too strong. But it was there. Refused to be extinguished. Adam was alive. Here. With her. Another chance. Would not waste it. Would protect him. Stand by his side. Ensure nothing took him from her again.

Every glance she stole at his back reminded her of the moment she had lost him. The knife, the blood, the silence that followed. The stump of her missing arm burned as she clenched her jaw to steady herself. She had to be inviolable, for him, for herself. She couldn't let her emotions betray her now.

Adam strutted. Marble floor. Heaven’s promenade of gold and silver. Many looked at them. Hushed voices. Pointing at her.

Smiling. Confused innocence in his direction. They did not recognize the First Man without his mask.

Lute paid them no mind. Psyche in pieces. Emotions on edge. Barely paying attention. Adam moving. One direction. Then another. He stopped. "This way," he said, seemingly guided by instinct.

He was Alive.

But still, the questions nagged at her. How was he alive? Why did he ask about Eve as if he didn’t remember her? Each question another layer of confusion, another twist in the emotional hurricane inside her. Yet, even these questions couldn’t dampen the joy, the immense relief that he was here.

Adam was Alive

That was all there was to it.

Their pace remained steady, and Adam continued to make bizarre turns through it all. But, it was only when the number of buildings and structures started dwindling and the crystalline limestone beneath their feet made its way to a cloudy floor did Lute's mind snap back to attention.

No....

This path...

Why was he here?

By the time it registered, they were at the Golden Gate, and Adam was talking to a dumbfounded and wide-eyed Peter, who had fallen from his pulpit. The Saint had scrambled to his feet and quickly approached the First Man. "A-Adam..?" he whispered, unbelieving, his eyes roaming the form of the man in front of him. "Is...Is that really you?!"

A coincidence.

He wouldn't.

He wouldn't go back.

Adam merely tilted his head, and with a smile, he answered, "Who else might I be?"

Peter's hands, which had been hovering aimlessly, quickly enveloped the large man in a fierce hug. "Oh! It's a miracle! I thought we truly lost you!"

Adam returned the embrace with a gentle pat on Peter's back. "It seems even miracles have their place yet in this old man's life," he said softly, his voice carrying the warmth of a father comforting his child.

Peter pulled back, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "How did you...?" he began, but words seemed to fail him.

"Even I don't fully understand it. But I'm here now, and that's what matters." Adam shrugged lightly before, he leaned close to Peter.

Silence hung heavy between them, Adam's gaze unwavering as he studied Peter, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. Then, suddenly, he raised his finger and pointed at the saint.

"Adam...?"

"Peter!"

"Y-yes?!" Peter stammered, startled by the suddenness of Adam's attention.

"Open the Gate to Hell."

The words landed like a thunderbolt, the air around them seeming to still as Peter processed the request. His eyes widened in shock, and he took a step back, shaking his head in disbelief.

"W-Why?" he managed to choke out, his voice trembling.

"Because I want to go there," Adam replied casually as if he were asking for a simple favor.

Lute felt her heart skip a beat, a cold shiver running down her spine. The memories flooded back, the image of the golden knife stabbing Adam replaying in her mind like a nightmare. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think. It was too much. Adam was alive, but the pain, the loss, it was still there, still as raw as ever.

In a flash, she was by his side, hands grasping his arms, her voice barely a whisper. "Why?" she asked, her voice breaking with emotion.


"Well, to kill the serpent."

"I'm not doing that," Peter said firmly, taking another step back, his expression one of disbelief and horror. "No, no, no. This is madness."

"Peter, please," Adam implored, his voice softer now, filled with a sense of urgency. "Open the gate. Trust me."

Peter crossed his arms in an X in refusal, adamant.

"It's suicide!" Lute exclaimed, stepping forward as if to physically block Adam. Her voice was desperate, pleading. She couldn't bear the thought of losing him again, not after everything they had been through.

She was willing to stand up to him, genuinely concerned for his safety. Despite the vast difference in their strength, she knew he would never hurt her. Adam turned to look at her, a sad expression on his face, and for a moment, she dared to hope that she had succeeded.

"Lute!" He exclaimed.

"S-Sir!" Lute replied, snapping into position, an expression of hopefulness on her face.

"I have no intention of dying," Adam declared, his voice tinged with a grin, and as his eyes met hers, they underwent a stunning transformation. The brilliant gold that once illuminated them gave way to a calm blue hue, intersected by six striking red lines that seemed to pulse with a mysterious energy.
 

Then, she felt it. Spreading across the realm like a warm, protective blanket, enveloping her in a sensation that was both comforting and invigorating. It was as if the very air around her had come alive, pulsing with his power. At that moment, Adam's presence seemed to fill every corner of her being, offering a sense of security and reassurance that was almost palpable.

Her mind became at ease. Thinking became easier. Her emotions were once again controllable. 

"Adam..."

His eyes spoke volumes, conveying a sense of unwavering confidence and determination. It was a smile that promised safety in the face of danger, and as she looked into his eyes, Lute found herself believing that everything would indeed be alright as long as he was by her side.

"Gather the reinforcements and follow me."

With those words, Adam vanished from sight, leaving Lute standing in the clearing, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and determination. She turned quickly, her eyes scanning the area in a frantic search for him. Several dozen meters away, she spotted him, his forearms stabbing into the veil that separated Heaven from the realm of the damned, ripping it open with a strength that defied logic.

"Sir!" Lute cried out after him.


Adam glanced back at her, a confident grin on his face. "I'm relying on you!" he called back, before disappearing into the Firmament.



Turning to the only other person there, Peter, Lute intended to yell at him to call the Seraphim, but what she saw surprised her. Saint Peter, usually appearing ageless, seemed suddenly far older than his immortal body looked. At first, he stood there, staring at the spot where Adam had vanished, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, tears welled up in his eyes, tracing down his weathered cheeks.

"Those eyes..." Peter murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. His hands trembled as he clasped them together, his whole body trembling with emotion. He sank to his knees, his head bowing nearly to the ground in a gesture of reverence, his shoulders shaking with the weight of his feelings.

Lute approached Peter slowly. She knelt beside him, placing a hand on his trembling shoulder. "Peter?"



Peter raised his head slowly, his eyes meeting hers, filled with tears and wonder. "I... I am unworthy," he choked out, his voice barely above a whisper. His whole body shook with emotion, his tears flowing freely.


"W-what is it?" lute asked hesitantly. What had brought the usually happy-go-lucky man to tears?

Peter raised his head slowly, tears and snot streaming down his face. His eyes met hers, filled with a mix of reverence and sorrow. "To... to think that I would ever see those eyes again," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "I am truly ....unworthy!"

Lute's confusion deepened, but then Adam's words echoed in her mind. He had trusted her to gather reinforcements. With a renewed sense of purpose, she repeated to herself, "Reinforcements," determined not to fail again.

As Lute stood, the weight of failure heavy on her shoulders, a surge of desperation coursed through her veins. She couldn't afford to fail Adam again. Her sisters, the exorcists, were her first thought. They had failed him once, but she would call them nonetheless. Yet, even as she reached for the communication halo, doubt gnawed at her. They were strong, but were they strong enough?

No, they already failed once. She already failed once.

Her mind raced, considering other options. The Seraphims. They were the strongest, the most powerful. They had to come. They must come. The fate of Adam, of everything, depended on it. She couldn't let him down, not again.

With determination hardening in her gaze, Lute turned to Peter, still on his knees.

"Peter," her voice was urgent, pleading, "you must call the Seraphims. Tell them it's an emergency. Adam needs their help, now."

But before Peter could answer, a soft yet commanding voice interrupted.

"For what purpose?"

Lute turned, her heart skipping a beat as she beheld the figure behind her. A being of ethereal beauty stood there, with cascading blonde locks, eyes like emeralds, and a stature that seemed to touch the heavens. Clad in resplendent golden armor, six majestic wings spread from her back, each exuding a divine radiance that filled the clearing.

Recognition dawned upon Lute, and she dropped to her knees, overwhelmed by the presence of the Archangel before her.

"Your Holiness," she whispered, her voice reverent.

The Archangel, upon whom the Exorcists were based.

One of the seven who served the Lord directly.

The strongest Angel in heaven.

The Commander of the Heavenly Host.

The Archangel who defeated Lucifer.

The Chief of the Virtues.

The Taxiarch.

As Michael approached, the very atmosphere seemed to change, becoming charged with a power that Lute could almost taste on her tongue. Each step was deliberate, each movement purposeful, exuding a sense of authority and command that left Lute feeling both humbled and emboldened.

"Be not afraid," Michael spoke gently, her voice carrying authority and compassion. "Rise, and state your plea."

Lute obeyed, her eyes filled with awe and urgency. "Your Holiness, Adam, the First Man, has ventured into the realm of the damned. He seeks to confront the serpent, and we fear for his safety."

"I see," Michael replied, her gaze penetrating yet understanding. It didn't escape Lute's attention how Michael didn't show any surprise at Adam's apparent resurrection, or at the state Peter was in.

As Michael stopped before her, Lute felt a wave of awe and a profound sense of reverence wash over her.

"If that is the case, I offer myself as reinforcement," Michael stated simply.

Lute's heart leaped. The Archangel herself was offering to join them. With gratitude and determination, she replied, "Your Holiness, we are honored by your presence and grateful for your offer of aid."

Throughout the entire conversation, Lute couldn't help but notice how Michael never looked at her. Her gaze never left the spot where Adam had disappeared.

"Then let us hurry,"

The Gluttony Ring, the third Ring of Hell, was a place of indulgence and excess, where its inhabitants reveled in the pleasures of the flesh and the senses. It was considered by many to be the greatest of the Rings, boasting a benevolent master who ensured that the inhabitants were always well-fed and entertained. Endless parties and feasts were a common sight in the Gluttony Ring, with lavish banquets and extravagant celebrations held regularly.

Yet on that day, none drank and none partied. All eyes turned upward as Hell itself seemed to shake. Explosions and flashes of light echoed down, heralding the arrival of what seemed to be the apocalypse. The once joyous and vibrant atmosphere of the Gluttony Ring was now filled with fear and apprehension as the inhabitants gazed up at the chaos unfolding above them. The ground trembled beneath their feet, and the air was thick with the smell of sulfur and burning flesh.

Despite their fear, the inhabitants of the Gluttony Ring could not tear their eyes away from the spectacle above. They watched in awe and terror as the floor of the Wrath Ring shattered and collapsed, revealing a scene of utter devastation.


A massive black dragon, its wings tattered and body bleeding, was chained in golden bonds and dragged down by an Angel. Spears of Light ripped through the dragon's flesh and a torrent of Hell Flame exploded from its gaping maw.. The King of Hell, his throat crushed in the Angel's other hand, and his body crackling with black lightning and missing two of his wings, struggled futilely against his capture.

As the titans clashed in the sky, the Gluttony Ring below descended into utter chaos and destruction. Spells of immense power detonated with deafening booms, each explosion sending shockwaves rippling through the air. Arcane energies danced and crackled, painting the sky in vibrant hues of red, blue, and green.

A swirling vortex of flames tore through the air with a menacing roar, engulfing everything in its path. Spheres of Gravity struck the ground with explosive force, sending debris flying in all directions. Massive lightning bolts zigzagged across the sky before crashing down with a blinding flash, leaving behind a trail of devastation.

Amidst this storm of destruction, Beelzebub arrived from the distance, growing in size as she released her might and rage. She took to the sky amidst the chaos, her form looming large and terrifying as she unleashed devastation. Her roars shook the very ground, and with each flap of her wings, gusts of wind and debris were sent swirling.


Yet, amidst all this destruction and horror, it was the First Man's laughter that truly terrified them all.

Chapter Text

Life was good.


Resting back in his plush leather chair, Vox felt completely at ease. His Face Screen, displaying the true bliss he felt, glowed softly in the dimly lit room. He wore his most comfortable yet stylish attire: a sleek black suit paired with a blood-red tie. A glass of amber liquid sat on the table beside him, the aroma of fine whiskey wafting through the air, adding to the sense of luxury and indulgence that surrounded him.

Velvette would've said he was being pretentious if she saw him.

Vox would've told her to fuck off.

Dozens of screens surrounded him, each one replaying the most amazing scene. Every screen displayed the recording of the last Extermination, showcasing how that lanky fucking deer, Alastor, got his shit wrecked by Adam.

Vox couldn't help but let out a low, guttural chuckle as he watched the recording. No matter how many times he replayed it, the scene never lost its edge. It was like watching a fucking masterpiece unfold before his eyes, each moment more satisfying than the last. This shit was better than any TV crap, more empowering than any soul he'd ever snagged, and more satisfying than any wild fuck session he'd ever had with Val.

And goddamn, that last comparison was saying something.

'Here comes the best part!' Vox thought as he leaned closer.

Alastor's smug expression turned to shock as his staff snapped in half like a twig. The look of utter disbelief on his face was priceless. All that shit-talking, only to get nearly killed with one hit! Then, he fucking ran away like a bitch! Vox relished in every frame, each replay making him laugh harder. He had seen it a hundred times, but it never got old. The sheer humiliation of Alastor was a masterpiece of divine retribution.

Vox had never held any love for the pricks of Heaven because, seriously, what fucking weirdo would? Sure, Exterminations were always the most lucrative for business. Getting souls the days after was like shooting fish in a barrel.

Yet, seeing the First Man humiliate Alastor filled him with a rare sense of delight. For once, Vox was proud to be his descendant.

If he had been there, he might've just kissed the man! Imagine that, Vox planting one right on Adam. Well, not really. Vox was far too smart to be anywhere near the golden-winged chucklefucks during an extermination.

But that was beside the point.

It would have certainly made Val seethe like a bitch though. It would've kept Val away from him for a couple of days, granting him some peace of mind. He loved his partner, but if he had to hear about that fucking spider whore one more time, he’d fucking shove his cables down the moth overlord's throat.

'Damn pervert would probably like it, though,' Vox thought with a snort, the corners of his mouth curling into a smirk.

The rest of the battle didn’t interest him much. Lucifer came. Adam died. Exorcists fucked off, and the morons rejoiced in their so-called victory.

They really were fucking stupid. Did they truly think Heaven would take this shit lying down? Sooner or later, that hotel, Carmilla, and the shitters of Cannibal Town would be old news. Lucifer’s dumb brat might get spared, but the rest? They were fucked. Vox just hoped that Alastor didn’t die with them because that fucker’s head was Vox’s to take!

When the recording got to the part of Adam’s last moments, he raised his glass to toast in the First Man’s honor—one Alastor hater to another.

But just as he was about to drink, a stabbing pain hit the back of his head. Someone had just broken the parabolic antenna. His antenna! On top of his building!

Stopping the video and throwing the glass to the floor, Vox jumped to his feet and stormed towards the balcony. Whichever fucking dumb piece of deer shit thought they could mess with him was about to get their spine broken and their balls strapped to a car battery!

He slammed the door open and looked upwards. "YOU GODAMNnoooooo....!" Vox's threat died in his throat as he got a look at the person standing on top of the antenna, his voice lowering to something similar to a mouse squeak. He quickly ducked and hid behind the railing of his balcony.

Vox’s eyes darted between the face of the dying man on his screens and the face of the man standing on his roof. He looked at the screen. He looked at the man. Back to the screen. Back to the man.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he muttered, blinking rapidly.

Vox reached into his breast pocket, taking out a small bottle of screen cleaning spray. He used it and quickly wiped his monitor with a handkerchief, convinced he must be seeing things.

Nope. Still there. He ran back to his largest Screen leaned in closer, then rushed back and squinted up at the figure on his roof, his jaw dropping in disbelief.

"What in the unholy fuck...?"

Vox's gaze locked onto Adam's face, the man standing on his roof, and it sent a chill down his circuits. Vox couldn't tear his eyes away from Adam. The exorcist's expression was too calm, almost unnervingly so. It was the kind of calm that made you think: 'Someone's getting fucked up tonight.'. Adam was dressed in a pristine white tunic with matching pants, a simple sash tied around his waist.

"Oh, they are so, so fucked..." Vox muttered under his breath, the realization hitting him like a freight train. Those clowns thought they killed the head exorcist. Turns out, he just went for a change of clothes.

A swirling light caught Vox's gaze, and he turned towards it, his eyes widening in shock. There, in the sky, was a massive, ugly crack. It wasn't just a portal; it was a rift, a wound in the very fabric of reality. It shimmered and pulsed with a sense of wrongness, as if the universe itself was screaming in agony.

"Did he do that?" Vox muttered, a mixture of awe and fear creeping into his voice. "Oh that's so fucking hardcore."

The crack in the sky seemed to grow, the edges jagged and throbbing with chaotic energy. It was like nothing Vox had ever seen before, and the sheer power it radiated sent chills down his spine.

He couldn't help but gush about the spectacle. "Oh, they are so, so fucked," he said again, louder this time, his excitement bubbling over. "That pompous ass Alastor and the rest of that pathetic hotel? They're screwed! Did they seriously think they could take down the head exorcist and not face any consequences?"

Oh, he could almost see it. Alastor on his egging for mercy as that shitty hotel burns in the background.

'Hazbin Hotel'  was about to be a pretty fucking fitting name.


Vox laughed, a cruel, gleeful sound that echoed around the room before he stopped. "Wait." Dread rose through his nerves like ice water.

Why the fuck was he on the Vees' territory? Oh, fuck. Did he think they had a part in his death? No, no, no. For fuck's sake, Vox was rooting for the exorcist during that fight. Vox's gaze turned to Adam. The First Man was looking at Vox's slaves/employees with burning disdain. The hatred in his eyes was so overwhelming, that Vox nearly glitched in fear.

Panic set in as Vox's mind raced. "Shit, shit, shit," he muttered, eyes darting back and forth between the screen and the figure on the roof. "Does he think we had something to do with it? I was on his side, dammit!"

Vox opened his mouth to shout out, to tell the First Man that he had nothing to do with it when Adam suddenly took a deep breath.

*crack*

"SERPEEEENT!!" Adam roared.

The sound was like thunder, reverberating through the entire building. Vox felt it in his bones, a primal fear igniting within him. His screen-head flickered with static for a moment, a visible crack marring the otherwise smooth surface.


Vox mentally screamed as he cradled his head, his sound receptors nearly busted from the sheer volume of Adam's roar. The pain was intense, a searing agony that made his vision flicker with static. He clutched at his screen-head, trying to steady himself as the echoes of the First Man's bellow continued to reverberate through his office.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he hissed through clenched teeth, his mind racing to process the situation. The scene on the roof had shifted from a spectacle to a dire threat in an instant, and Vox knew he had to act quickly if he wanted to survive.

Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to stand, every movement sending jolts of pain through his head. He staggered towards the edge of the balcony, peering up at the figure of Adam. The First Man's presence was almost overwhelming, a beacon of raw, unbridled power that made Vox's circuits tremble.

just as Vox felt his mind slipping into unconsciousness, the door to his office was blasted open, Val and Velvette barging in.

"Vox, what the in fuck happened?!" Velvette yelled as she ran to him, a cracked tablet in her hand. "Are we under attack?!"

"Mi amore!" Val, bless his dark cruel sadistic heart, was more concerned with Vox's collapsed form. But for fucks sake, now was not the time for yelling, especially when they had a bloody ticking bomb over their heads.

Not trusting his voice, Vox hurriedly gestured to the balcony, trying to get his bearings together. His mind was a whirlwind of pain and confusion, but he knew he had to convey the urgency of the situation to Val and Velvette. He pointed frantically at the figure on the roof, then at his head, miming the intense pressure he felt from Adam's presence.

Val and Velvette exchanged worried glances, clearly understanding that something serious was happening. The two overlords rushed to peek at the balcony. He saw them both still at the sight.

Velvette turned sharply, glaring at him. "Seriously Vox, what the fuck did you do?"

"Fucking nothing," Vox hissed back. What the actual fuck could he ever have done to get the Head Exorcist on his ass?

"Then why the actual fuck is Lucifer doing on our roof!" Valentino shrilled.

"I already tol—Wait, what?" Vox's heart skipped a beat at Val's words. He pushed the vees and leaned next to them, raising his head, and found the fucking King of Hell floating next to the broken antenna. Lucifer spared them a passing glance with a raised eyebrow.

What the fuck?!

He turned to Valentino. "Why the fuck is Lucifer here?"

"That's what we're asking!" Velvette elbowed him harshly. "You're the one who told us to look!"

"Yeah, at that!" Vox pointed with his hand at Adam.

As Val and Velvette turned to look at Adam, their expressions shifted from confusion to shock, then to a mix of horror and disbelief. Velvette's eyes widened so much that Vox thought they might pop out of her head, while Val's jaw dropped low.

"Is that... Adam?" Val stammered, his voice cracking with disbelief. "I thought he fucking croaked!"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Velvette muttered under her breath, her hands trembling as she grabbed her twin-tails. She turned her head, looking at Vox expectantly.

"I don't know," he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I have no fucking idea what's going on."

Velvette rolled her eyes. "Great, just fucking great. We're stuck in the middle of some cosmic bullshit, and we have no clue why."

Val suddenly shushed both of them. "Shut the fuck up, they're talking."

True enough, the two Angels were exchanging some words. As the Vees leaned in to listen, Vox had no idea what the fuck the two were talking about; their conversation was too vague. But he was pretty sure they were talking shit. And that was enough. Slamming his screen to stabilize it, Vox's left eye glowed as he started recording.

It filled his electric heart with warmth to see Val and Velvette were also recording.

"Ooh, he called him a bitch," Val whispered, a hint of amusement in his voice.
 

The exchange continued for several moments before Adam's face grew serious.


"You know why I'm here."


A massive grin spread across Lucifer's face as he leaned forward...  and disappeared?

One second he was there, the next he was gone.

Val and Velvette were confused. But Vox, with the numerous features and high specs of his screen, saw it. No one else could've seen it. Especially not some limp dicked moron who insisted that the Glorious Television was inferior to fucking Radio.

The video spun back, its speed reduced to near stillness. It was in one frame, but he saw it.

 Adam's fist plunged into Lucifer's solar plexus.

"Adam just punched Lucifer," he stated, a mix of shock and excitement in his voice.

"Oh shit, they're scrapping?" Velvette said, surprised.

Vox nodded, a glint in his eyes. A second later, he saw reflected in his partners's eyes. Immediately, all three grinned. They had no idea why Adam was alive. No idea why Lucifer came to their roof. No idea what the fuck was going on.

But what they did know, they knew entertainment.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?  Velvette said, with a manic smirk.

Vox nodded, a glint of excitement in his eyes. He glanced at Val, who was already reaching for the nearest camera controls, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

"We're recording it all," Val declared, his voice filled with anticipation.

Velvette's excitement mirrored Val's as she nodded vigorously. "This is gonna go fucking viral," she exclaimed, her voice tinged with anticipation.

Vox chuckled, his mind already racing with the possibilities. "Hell yeah, it is," he agreed, feeling a surge of adrenaline. "Let's make sure we get every angle."

In a flurry of activity, every drone and camera the Vees owned was released, following the fight closely. Even as they left the Pride Ring, the drones continued to capture every moment. Vox no longer cared about stepping on the toes of the Ars Goetia, the Sins, or even Lucifer; he was solely focused on getting the best footage possible.

Every station covering the fight, thousands of projections littered the Pride Ring sky for all to see. Within minutes, every single soul in the Pride Ring was buzzing about the battle.

Then, as if adding fuel to an already raging fire, the Vees opened the betting pool.

And it was fucking spectacular.

Those suckers bet with everything: their money, their lovers, their children, and even their souls.

Minutes later, with a glass of wine in hand and a massive grin on his face, Vox felt a sense of exhilaration. This was what he lived for, the thrill of capturing moments that would be talked about for eons.

And when the entirety of Hell saw the Head Exorcist, clothes shredded and arms bloody, grab Beelzebub, and slam her into Satan, ripping Lucifer's third wing in the process, Vox knew they had struck gold.

He was going to kiss Adam if it was the last  fucking thing he ever did.

Chapter Text

She was tired.

Charlie laid in her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Usually, she would have been the first to come down, the day's activities already planned and prepared. But today, she felt no urge to leave her bed. The hotel was nearly empty, and there was nothing pressing to attend to.

She turned her head to the left, where Vaggie usually slept. The spot was empty. Cherri had left the hotel early in the morning before anyone else was up, probably to check on things or help around. The loss of Sir Pentious had hit everyone hard, but Cherri seemed the most affected.

Charlie had tried to help Cherri, but it had gone poorly, to say the least. Vaggie had told her to leave Cherri to grieve, saying that some things require time. Charlie didn't know if that was true, but she trusted Vaggie. Her girlfriend seemed to be speaking from experience.

Angel Dust, probably out of concern for his friend, wanted to go look for Cherri. Fearing for their first hotel resident's safety and the possibility of Valentino trying something, Vaggie, and Husk had gone with him.

Nifty was off somewhere doing Nifty things.

Alastor was nowhere to be found. He had just disappeared the day after the battle. Charlie had looked everywhere for him but to no avail. Husk said he didn't know or care. "The further away he is from me, the better," he had told her.

Charlie was afraid that Alastor might have been deeply affected by the loss. The constant replays of the battle on screens across Pentagram City and the ads Vox had put up certainly didn't help.

"There was no shame in losing to the Head Exorcist," Charlie would have said to him. It really wasn't. Even Charlie almost lost to Adam. Though, that was probably the worst thing she could say.

The reminder of Adam made her groan. She grabbed the pillow and shoved it over her face, trying to block out the world and her thoughts, but it was no use. The weight of everything pressed down on her, making it hard to find any peace.

Memories of the battle with the Exorcists flooded her mind. It had been two weeks ago, but the events felt like they had happened yesterday. Charlie didn't regret protecting the Hotel. It was her dream, her hope for redemption for the souls of Hell.

But she hated that it had come to violence. She didn't actually think they'd have to kill each other. She thought that maybe with the barrier and the weapons, the Exorcists would... go home?

She wondered if there could have been another way. If she could have negotiated and found a peaceful solution. But she knew deep down that the Exorcists had not come to talk. They had come to exterminate, to destroy.

Adam made that very clear.

The Exorcists had attacked relentlessly, and they had fought back just as fiercely. The hotel had been damaged, and many of its residents had been injured. Sir Pentious had been killed, a fact that still weighed heavily on Charlie's heart.

Charlie might've been too if her dad didn't arrive in time, and beat Adam. At that point, she dared to hope that maybe now that he was defeated, Adam would call off the Extermination.

He didn't, and before they knew it, Nifty's knife stabbed through the back.

Adam was dead.

Charlie sat on the edge of her bed, her mind swirling with conflicting emotions. Adam was dead. The man who had caused so much chaos and destruction in her life was gone. He had been crude, and vulgar, and had insulted her and her parents.

He had made Vaggie's life a living hell, literally.

Every year he had slaughtered her people, his own descendants, while laughing about it.

He had even tried to kill her and destroyed her hotel.

He hurt Alastor.

He killed Sir Pentious.

And yet... Charlie still felt horrible that he was dead.

She couldn't explain it. Despite everything Adam had done, despite all the pain he had caused, there was a part of her that felt a twinge of sadness at his passing.

Maybe it was because she thought that deep down, he was just a lost soul, consumed by his own anger and hatred.

Maybe it was because she believed that everyone, no matter how far gone, deserved a chance at redemption.

Maybe it was because she didn't want to be the kind of person who wished death upon others, no matter how much they had hurt her.

Or maybe it was simply because she was tired. The battle with the Exorcists had drained her, not just physically but emotionally too.  She was tired of the fighting, tired of the pain, tired of losing people she cared about. The cycle of violence and death in Hell seemed endless, and it appeared to be present in Heaven as well.

After the battle, she asked her father how Heaven would react. He told her he didn't know, but the frown on his face made it clear, he had a suspicion or two.

At least one Seraphim opposed the Extermination, and Charlie clung to that hope. She believed that Emily could make the others see reason, to show them that there was another way.

It was a fragile hope, but it was all she had. Despite her exhaustion, Charlie knew she couldn't give up. She had to keep fighting for what she believed in, for her friends, for all the souls of Hell who deserved a chance at redemption.

With a deep breath, Charlie pushed herself off the bed. She had work to do, a dream to fulfill. And no matter how tired she was, she knew that she couldn't stop now. Not when there was still hope, however small, for a better future.

Charlie sat up abruptly, her face contorted with determination. She raised her hands and delivered a couple of sharp slaps to her cheek, the sting jolting her senses. It was a way to cast away any lingering doubt, to shake herself out of her exhaustion.

With newfound resolve, she stood up, her movements swift and decisive. She raised her arms in the air, a defiant gesture against the weight of despair. Taking a deep breath, she yelled into the empty room, a primal scream of defiance and determination.

"I won't give up!" she shouted, her voice echoing off the walls. "I won't let the darkness win! I will fight for what I believe in!"

Her yell faded into the silence, leaving her feeling strangely invigorated. The exhaustion was still there, but now it was overshadowed by a renewed sense of purpose.

Charlie went to her desk, her mind buzzing with ideas. She grabbed a stack of papers and crayons, eager to bring her plans to life. With a clear sense of purpose, she began planning the activities of the day, all of which she believed were connected to redemption in some way. And to help her concentrate, she needed music!

She grabbed her phone, put in her earphones, and hit shuffle.

 "SOMEBODY GET ME THROUGH THIS NIGHTMARE! I CAN't-!" 

Charlie quickly stopped the music, looking at her phone in alarm. "Hehe, forgot I had those..." She quickly changed it to a more fitting song. "Oh Mr. Sun, Sun, Mr. Golden Sun." With a nod of approval, Charlie quickly put the volume to the max.

First, she decided they would start with a game of "Pin the Tail on the Demon." In her mind, this game symbolized the act of finding and confronting one's inner demons, a necessary step on the path to redemption.

The ground suddenly shook, and Charlie grabbed the edge of the desk and continued. A small Hellshake was not going to stop her muse.

Next, she scheduled a scavenger hunt for lost souls in the hotel. This activity represented, obviously, the idea of seeking out those who were lost and offering them guidance and support, a gesture of compassion and redemption.

A blindingly bright light streamed through her window. Charlie sighed, closing the curtains and switching on the lights without looking up from her masterpiece.

As she scribbled down her ideas, a new thought struck her. Why not have a puppet show? She could create puppets for the hotel's residents and put on a show for everyone. This, she thought, would symbolize the power of storytelling and how it can help us understand and empathize with others, leading to redemption through connection.

For a moment, Charlie thought she heard a knock before she waved it off as the beat of the song.

"Baby, du du du baby.." Charlie whistled with the song.

Finally, she planned to end the day with a tea party. She would bake homemade treats and decorate the hotel's common area, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. This, she believed, would symbolize the importance of community and coming together, finding redemption through unity and friendship.

"And done!" Charlie exclaimed, grabbing her papers and standing from her seat. With a swirl, she leaped onto her bed, raising her plans into the air. "This is going to be the most productive da-!"

Before she could finish her sentence, the door exploded, broken and torn out of its hinges.

Vaggie lowered her leg down and rushed into the room, her spear raised in preparation and an expression of fear on her face. Her sole eye settled on Charlie, and her body sagged with relief. "Charlie! thank goodness you're okay," she exclaimed, lowering her spear.

"Vaggie, it's okay," Charlie reassured, jumping down from the bed and rushing over to her girlfriend. "What's wrong?"

"I saw the feed outside, and I thought....." Vaggie's words cut off as she held Charlie, her head falling down.

"Vaggie,... you're really starting to scare me," Charlie spoke.

Vaggie focused her eye on her and spoke. "Adam's back. He's alive and rampaging in the Wrath ring."

Charlie's eyes widened in shock. "Adam? But... how? I saw him die. Nifty... she..." Charlie's voice trailed off, unable to finish the thought. "Can....Can Heaven resurrect people?"

"I ....don't know. Before Camilla did it, I never actually heard of an angel dying." Vaggie shook grimly, her breathing ragged and body shaking. "I don't know, I don't know......but he's causing chaos down there. We need to do something."

Charlie looked at Vaggie, her eyes widening in realization. Vaggie, usually so strong and composed, looked small and afraid. Without a word, Charlie grabbed her phone, her fingers trembling slightly as she dialed her father's number. Each ring felt like an eternity, but there was no answer. She tried again, her heart pounding in her chest, but still, there was no response. "Come on, dad. You said you would try..."

"Lucifer's already there. He's the one fighting Adam," Vaggie said, her voice barely above a whisper. "...He's not winning."

The words hit Charlie like a ton of bricks. Her father, the most powerful creature in Hell, was struggling against a foe that should have been no match for him. The news filled her with a sense of dread she had never experienced before. "Dad is fighting him?" she repeated, her voice barely a whisper, disbelief and fear creeping into her tone.

"You said that it's broadcasted outside? Angel and Husk?"

Vaggie nodded tiredly. "They're downstairs. The screens are everywhere... You have to see it to understand."

Charlie made a hesitant nod, and grabbed Vaggie's hand, descending quickly to join the others. Charlie took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. "Okay, we'll figure out a plan. We can't let him hurt anyone else."

As they reached the reception hall, Charlie found Husk and Angel Dust waiting there. The spider sinner was nervously biting his fingers, while the bartender had a bottle of liquor in his hand.

"How bad is it?" Charlie asked as she approached them. "Vaggie told me he's in the Wrath ring."

"Try the Gluttony Ring," Husk replied with a low voice as he stood up, gesturing for them to follow him. "It's looking bad, Charlie. Your father and Satan are  barely keeping up with him."

Charlie's heart skipped a beat, her blood running cold. She hadn't realized her father was there, and the news filled her with dread. "Uncle Satan is trying to stop him , too?"

"More like trying and failing not to get his shit kicked in alongside Beelzebub," Angel quipped before taking a deep breath to calm himself. He rubbed his temple. "Sorry, toots... It's just...I'm about to shit myself here."

"Let's go." Vaggie gestured to Charlie.

Charlie opened the hotel's front door, the sound hitting them like a physical force. The entirety of Pentagram City seemed to be alive with cheers, curses, and laughter as they watched the screens projecting the chaos.

Charlie was shocked by the sinners' cheering. She raised her head to look at one of the screens. There, amidst the chaos, was Adam, alive and laughing as he fought against her father, Uncle Satan, and Aunt Bee.

Charlie could only watch in a stupor.

Satan's draconic body was trapped in golden chains that grew from Adam's arm, flapped his wing and twirled in the air. "SEMA!" With a thunderous roar, her uncle unleashed a colossal torrent of golden hellfire.

 The inferno surged toward Adam, but he only smiled wider, raising his bloodied hand for the attack. With a casual flick of his wrist, the searing flames veered off course, disintegrating into sparks around him.

Seizing the opportunity, Aunt Bee fired a beam of red reflective light that shattered the chains, freeing Satan. Before Adam could retaliate, her dad teleported above Adam, unleashing a twisted violet pyramid spell that struck the First Man, causing the entire Ring to shake violently and launching Adam towards the ground.

As Adam plummeted, Satan and Beelzebub followed after him, unleashing a barrage of attacks as they circled him. Adam spread his arms wide, then brought them down, causing Satan and Beelzebub to be flattened on the ground as their spells detonated, engulfing the area in a massive explosion of flame and dust. The screen flickered with static as the shockwave hit the cameras.

From the dust cloud, Adam rose at lightning speed toward her father. Lucifer unfurled his wings. Charlie's heart sank as she counted only three instead of the proud six she was used to. He pointed his palm down at Adam, conjuring a three-layered magic spell that released a rainbow-colored beam.

Adam, with a grin on his face, sent two circling spheres of holy light and demonic darkness towards Lucifer. The attacks met in a resounding explosion, the force of which shook the very floor beneath her feet.

The screen went black for a moment, causing thousands of curses to be hurled at it. It flickered back on a second later to show her father being snatched by the neck by Adam. The king of Hell struggled to break free as Adam grabbed his left horn and, with a sickening crunch, snapped it off.

The scream her father released made Charlie's heart break.

"Dad!" she cried out.

Finally, with a raging screech, her father summoned a rotating vortex of ice blades that freed him. His leg hit Adam in the abdomen, sending him flying at Mach speed. Before he hit the ground, Adam's body disappeared.

"Above you!" Her uncle's warning echoed, the only reason her father managed to move out of the way as Adam reappeared from a portal above her father, his momentum carrying him forward. Yet as soon as they passed each other, a golden chain erupted from Adam's sleeve and circled around her father's torso, dragging him down.

Adam raised his hand to strike before her aunt crashed into him, her jaws clamped down on him. At the same time, her uncle's claws shattered the chain before he flew after Beelzebub.

The main camera turned away from the fight to focus on her father's hovering form. It showed his battered body, his left hand covering his face. He slowly removed it to inspect the blood on his hand, revealing his tiredness, sweat the gaping, and bleeding wound on his forehead.

For a moment, everything seemed to freeze. Then Charlie's ears were nearly ruptured by the roaring cheers of those surrounding her.

"Yeah, rip him apart, Adam!" one sinner hollered, his voice filled with bloodlust.

"Look at him bleed! He's not so tough now, is he?" another jeered.

A demon near the front shouted, "I've got ten on the next hit taking an eye!"

"Fucking Beelzebub whore! Stay the fuck away! I've got my son's life on Satan going down first!" a gaunt demon yelled, shaking his fist at the screen.

"Mommy!?"

"Not now, Timmy!"

"Fuck Lucifer's bitch ass! Show me Bee's fat tits again!" Some pervert howled like a wolf, and hundreds of others did the same.

Charlie turned around in shock, the very people she had tried to save were cheering as the man who had tried to kill them all was hurting her father and family. The crowd's jeers and insults filled the air, mixing with the sounds of the ongoing battle. Some were even throwing recommendations and making bets about what would break off next.

"Rip his tail!"

Vaggie's growled next to her. "These fucking pieces of shit!"

"Don't those morons what's gonna happen if Adam wins?" Angel gritted out through clenched teeth.

"Stop spamming the same fucking move, you dumbass lizard!"

"Fight back, you short cocksucker! My money is on the line!" a female demon hissed, her voice dripping with malice.

"BREAK HIS COCK!!!" another cheered, his voice hoarse from screaming as he tore his shirt.

Charlie gasped, her hands flying to her mouth in horror as she saw the expression of pain and anger on her father's face. The sound of the horn breaking and the sight of the blood was too much. Her heart pounded in her chest as she watched her father's people cheering for his misery.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she clutched Vaggie's arm for support. These were the same people she wanted to help, so why? These were the people she considered her own. Her vision blurred as she saw their jeering faces, the same faces she had hoped to save and redeem.

Her sadness quickly gave way to rage, her demonic features began to show. "Vaggie, fly me," she growled, her voice low and dangerous.

Vaggie looked at her, startled by the expression of hatred on Charlie's face. Before nodding, she grabbed Charlie from her armpits and flew her several meters into the air, stopping in front of one of the screens and blocking the view.

Insults were hurled at her instantly, telling her to get the fuck out of the way. "Move, bitch!"

"Enough!" Charlie roared, silencing them all. Her voice echoed with a power she rarely showed, her demonic features glaring down at the crowd. "What the hell is wrong with you all?" she shouted, her voice seething with fury. "You think this is a game? You think it's fun to watch my father suffer? To cheer for the man who tried to kill you all?"

She pointed at the screen, where the brutal battle continued. "This isn't entertainment! This is Hell tearing fighting for its survival, and you're all sitting here like it's a fucking sport!"

Her eyes blazed with anger as she continued. "Do you have any idea what you're doing? By cheering for Adam, you're supporting the destruction of everything we have left. You're cheering for chaos and death! Is that what you want?"

One demon dared to mutter something under his breath, but Charlie's glare shut him up instantly. "You think this is a joke? Lives are at stake! My father's life is at stake! And you're making bets on how he'll die next?"

She took a deep breath, her anger radiating off her in waves. "This isn't about redemption anymore. This is about survival. If you don't want to help, then the least you could do is shut the fuck up. But if you care at all about this place, about anyone here, then start acting like it. Because if Adam wins, none of us will survive!"

"Who the fuck are you?" a voice from the crowd yelled, dripping with defiance and scorn.

Charlie looked at them, her eyes blazing with a mixture of fury and determination. "I'm the one who still believes in you," she shouted back, "I'm the one who hasn't given up on you, even when you have."

Murmurs of confusion spread through the crowd.

"...who?"

 "I'm the daughter of the man you're watching suffer," she shouted back, her voice cutting through the noise of the crowd. "I'm the one who opened this hotel to give you a second chance."

A murmur rippled through the onlookers, some faces showing surprise, others skepticism.

"Are you gonna fight Adam then?" another voice shouted, filled with doubt.

Charlie's gaze hardened. "I'm not here to fight," she declared, her voice steady and firm. "I'm here to stop this madness, to put an end to the senseless violence that's tearing our world apart."

The crowd fell silent, the weight of her words sinking in. Charlie took a deep breath, her resolve unwavering. "So, who's with me?" she challenged, her eyes scanning the crowd, daring them to stand with her against the chaos.

...

...

"Twenty thousand Souls this dumb bitch gets her neck snapped by the Dickmaster!!"

The crowd immediately went back to their frenzy after the last declaration words, their cheers and jeers blending into a cacophony of noise.

Charlie lets out a loud growl in response to their reaction, her demonic features contorting with rage. "Fuck all of you!" she roars, her voice cutting through the din.

Vaggie joins in, hurling a torrent of profanity in Spanish at the sinners. "¡Mierda de demonios egoístas! ¡Deberían estar avergonzados de sí mismos, hijos de puta!" Her words are filled with anger and disgust, each curse more vehement than the last.

Fuck this.

Charlie turned and nodded to Vaggie over her shoulder who nodded back in understanding.

Charlie's voice cut through the uproar, a fierce determination in her eyes. "Husk! Angel! stay in the hotel!" she yelled, her voice echoing over the chaotic sounds of the city.

As Vaggie lifted her into the air, Charlie glared at the crowd below, their cheers and jeers blending into a deafening roar. She clenched her fists, trying to block out the noise and focus on the task at hand.

"Let's go, Vaggie!" she shouted, her voice resolute. "We're going to the Gluttony Ring. I'm ending this madness now!"

As Vaggie flew them away from the chaos of Pentagram City, Charlie's mind raced with thoughts of what she had just witnessed. The image of her father, battered and bleeding, haunted her. She clenched her jaw, trying to push aside the fear and anger that threatened to overwhelm her.

'Just hold on a bit more, Dad.'

"The hole should be in that direction!" Vaggie's voice broke through Charlie's thoughts, guiding them towards their destination. They flew through the desolate outskirts of the Pride Ring, the once vibrant landscape now reduced to ruins.

Out of nowhere, an explosion ripped through the sky behind them, startling Charlie. Before she could react, a searing pain shot through her body as she felt something hard crash into them, the sound of her ribs cracking. Vaggie's hold on her breaking as they separated.

As Charlie crashed into the ground, pain shot through her body, blinding her with agony. The impact felt like a thousand knives stabbing into her flesh, every nerve screaming in protest. She gasped for air, but the impact had knocked the wind out of her, leaving her struggling to breathe.

Through the haze of pain, Charlie barely managed to stand up and raise her head to look for Vaggie. Her vision was blurred, but she could make out the outline of her girlfriend's body lying several meters away from her, a figure standing over her. Her shaking vision stabilized a bit as she looked at the familiar outfit and white hair, then at the missing arm.

Adam's lieutenant was standing over Vaggie's body with her sword drawn out.

Rage bubbled in Charlie's veins as her eyes turned red, and her horns grew. She opened her mouth to scream and threaten Lute, only for her words to choke as she felt a heavy weight drive her knees to the ground.

As she tried to speak, she felt something cold and sharp pressing against her throat.

"When we finally meet, Spawn of the Whore and the Archtraitor," a soft, melodic voice whispered to her the sword in her hand breaking Charlie's skin.

Charlie turned her gaze upwards, her eyes widening at the sight before her. The first thing she noticed were the huge, majestic wings—six in total, exuding a divine radiance.

The woman- Charlie gathered from the shape of the armor and bellowing golden locks- was standing in front of her, almost twice her father's height, dressed in resplendent golden armor over white clothing that revealed nothing of her body. A helmet sat on her head and hid her face, intricately carved to resemble a lion's face, adding to her imposing presence. The armor gleamed in the dim light, numerous runes moving across it.

"I have always wished to meet you, Child of Sin," the archangel spoke, her voice commanding yet tinged with a strange sense of curiosity. "And now, the time has come for our paths to cross."

Charlie's heart pounded in her chest as she struggled to comprehend the situation. She was face to face with an archangel, and from the sound of it, she was not here to offer salvation.

"Rejoice, demon spawn. I have deemed you to be a fitting offering for the Lord's return." The archangel's words echoed in her mind.

"So please, do resist."

Chapter Text

Love was dangerous.

Love made people do foolish things.

That was something María del Carmen knew all too well. Born into a small village in Spain during the Spanish Civil War, María grew up in a world torn apart by conflict and strife. Her family struggled to make ends meet, and the war only made things worse. Despite the hardships, María found solace in her secret passion: weapons. From the day she held her father's hunting rifle, she was fascinated by their mechanics and the power they wielded, a stark contrast to the delicate ballet her mother insisted she practice.

'It was a sign of high class lady' her Madre would often repeat.

Maria did not care.

María's love for weapons was dangerous in a society that saw women as delicate and nurturing. Her mother pushed her into ballet, hoping it would be a path to a better life. María despised the art form, viewing it as a frivolous pursuit for the elite. She endured the classes, the blisters, and the rigid discipline, but her heart remained with the weapons she secretly studied.

Her secret life became even more perilous when she fell in love with a young blacksmith named Javier, who shared her passion. Together, they spent countless nights forging weapons and learning the intricacies of their design. It was a dangerous love, not just because of the war, but because their clandestine activities could lead to severe punishment. But for María, it was a risk worth taking.

Their love came to a tragic end when a raid by the Army on their village exposed their secret. 'Conspiring against the State' and 'Plotting Treason.' Javier was killed in the chaos, and María barely escaped with her life. Grief-stricken and consumed by rage, she vowed to continue their work, supplying weapons to those who fought against the oppression she blamed for Javier's death. Her actions during the war became increasingly ruthless, her heart hardened by loss and betrayal.

María's relentless pursuit of vengeance and her ruthless tactics in supplying weapons to the rebels made her a target. She was eventually captured and executed, deemed unworthy of Heaven for the lives her weapons had taken. Her soul was condemned to Hell, where she was transformed into a demoness. Her new form was a cruel irony: a ballerina with an hourglass figure and the grace she had once loathed, now combined with the power and strength she had always admired in weapons.

Reborn as Carmila Carmine, she quickly adapted to her new existence. Her knowledge of weapons and strategic mind made her a valuable asset in the infernal realms. She rose to power as Hell's top weapons dealer, her reputation for ruthlessness and efficiency growing with each deal. Despite the darkness of her new world, she found a new kind of love in her daughters, Clara and Odette, another ironic coincidence, a final nod to her mortal life.

In Hell, love was still dangerous. Carmila's fierce protectiveness over her daughters mirrored her past. During her business dealings, she discovered a lucrative opportunity: the Angelic Weapons left behind by Exorcists after the exterminations. These weapons, sought after by sinners and Hellborn alike, were the only things capable of permanently dispatching a denizen of Hell.

Realizing the value of these weapons, Carmila made it her annual duty to gather as many as possible, often risking her safety and reputation in the process. But it was worth it. The cache of Angelic Weapons became her greatest asset, elevating her status among the other Overlords and making her someone they didn't want to cross.

More than that, it provided her with reassurance that her daughters were always well-protected. In a realm as dangerous as Hell, having such powerful tools at her disposal meant she could ensure their safety, no matter the cost.

Then, one year, Carmila and her daughters had gotten sloppy. Their focus on gathering Angelic Weapons had led them to neglect other aspects of their operations. It was a mistake that nearly cost them everything.

An Exorcist, more cunning than most, had been tracking their movements. She saw their vulnerability and seized the opportunity. In a daring raid, she ambushed Carmila and her daughters, cornering them.

The Exorcist movement was sluggish and cocky, not feeling a danger even against an Overlord. Because why would she? Exorcists were unkillable. Until they weren't.

Carmila, knowing her daughters were in danger, distracted the Exorcists, allowing Clara and Odette to escape to safety. The angels, in their arrogance, all left but one, trusting her to be enough to kill Carmila.

Moments later, Carmila stood shocked over the decapitated body of the Exorcist, blood covering her shoes.

Carmila knew she had made a grave mistake. The ability to slay angels made the Angelic weapons she and her daughters collected much more precious—and dangerous. If knowledge of their collection broke out, it would surely lead to war in Hell.

Realizing the gravity of the situation, Carmila chose to stay quiet, hoping that their secret would remain hidden. However, she was all too aware that Hell was never that forgiving.

When Princess Morningstar and her friends approached her, Carmila saw an opportunity to ensure her daughters' safety. She threw her weight behind them, knowing that their alliance could handle the Exorcists and Heaven-born threats. Win or lose, she believed that aligning herself with the princess—and, by extension, the king—was her best shot at protecting her daughters.

However, as she looked at the broadcasting feed of the First Man's carnage through the Lust Ring, that hope was crushed.


Carmila watched the broadcast, her eyes flickering between snippets of the ongoing fight. The sounds of battle and the cheers and curses of the onlookers in the Pride Ring filled the air, creating a chaotic backdrop to her thoughts.

Standing up from her desk, she walked over to the window, gazing out at Pentagram City spread out before her. The city was alive with activity, its inhabitants enthralled by the spectacle unfolding in the Lust Ring.

As she looked out, a sudden blinding light in the sky caught her attention. A gate unlike any she had ever seen before materialized in the heavens, its golden doors swinging open majestically.

From the gate emerged two angels. One of them she recognized immediately, even from this distance. It was Adam's lieutenant, the one Vaggie apparently had bested.

The other angel, however, was a sight to behold. Adorned in golden armor and with six wings that shimmered in the light, this angel was unlike any she had ever seen. Their presence commanded respect, and Carmila knew instinctively that they were a being of great power and authority.

She watched as the two angels conversed, their words unheard but their intent clear. Adam's lieutenant pointed in the direction of  Cannibal Town.

The Archangel nodded.

The Excorcist raised her hand again and pointed towards Carmila's territory, and her heart skipped a beat.


The Six-Winged angel unsheathed their sword, a gleaming blade that seemed to radiate with celestial light. Carmila knew that this was a sign of judgment, and she braced herself for what was to come.

The blade glowed with power.

Such was life, it seemed.

Full of unexpected twists and turns, where even the best-laid plans could lead to unforeseen consequences. Carmila's gaze shifted back to the city below, her heart heavy with regret. She watched as the people cheered and jeered, their emotions a tumultuous mix of excitement and fear. It was a stark reminder of the chaos that surrounded her, a chaos that she had helped to create.

In the end, she was simply a businesswoman. She had made her choices, and taken her risks, and now she would have to face the consequences. She knew that sometimes in business, one made bad decisions. This was simply one of those times.

Yet, as the light seeped through her surroundings, casting a warm glow as it tore through everything it touched, Carmila dared to pray. It was a silent, desperate plea to a higher power, a plea for mercy and forgiveness. She knew that her fate was sealed, but perhaps, just perhaps, there was still hope for her daughters.

Hopefully, Zestial would take good care of them.

As the Pride Ring lost two of its overlords, the upheaval went unnoticed by most. Those who did witness it either didn't care or were too absorbed in their own affairs to pay it much heed.

For the real spectacle was unfolding elsewhere, in a clash of titans that shook the very foundations of Hell. 

The dark night of the Lust Ring was illuminated by explosions and lightning bolts striking the sky. The camera focused on Adam fighting Four of the Rulers of Hell.


Lucifer summoned several magical circles that unleashed red beams towards Adam, who was flying towards him. Adam opened his mouth, and a massive torrent of golden flames rushed toward the beams. The attacks collided, and Adam's flames blasted through the red beams. Lucifer teleported out of the way just in time.

Beelzebub appeared from a burst of light above Adam, her massive claws cocked back. She slammed them down, but Adam's forearm came up, blocking the attack. Even suspended in the air, he didn't budge. He pushed his arm up and grabbed Beelzebub's limb, twirling her massive form several times before hurling her to the ground.

In her descent, Beelzebub twisted and released a gray beam of light upwards. Adam's chest expanded, and he opened his mouth with a short roar. The shockwave drove Beelzebub's beam back toward her, forcing her to teleport away at the last second, her body turning into sparks.

Lucifer reappeared, casting a spell that summoned chains of light to bind Adam. But Adam broke free with sheer strength, charging at Lucifer with relentless speed. He tackled Lucifer mid-air, sending them both crashing into the ground below.

The two ancient beings dragged through the city floor as they crashed, Lucifer's limbs flailing as he tried to get the First Man off of him. A clawed hand dragging across Adam's face, trying to gouge his eyes, was quickly seized between Adam's teeth. With a growl, Adam bit down and pulled his head back, tearing Lucifer's fingers off.

A gurgled scream was released from the Fallen Angel's mouth, only to be silenced as Adam's palm smashed into his face, driving his head into the cracking ground. In a vice-like grip, his fingers drawing blood from Lucifer's temple, Adam raised Lucifer's body into the air. the denizens of hell saw the Head Exorcist's mouth move, yet the words he uttered were unheard as the camera's sound receptors glitched momentarily. A grey circle dozens of meters wide appeared on the ground. The trapped king's limbs began spazzing and twisting.

" "F̴͕̪͚̘̤̽̑̂ą̶̧̡͉̠̞̱͙͇͚̯͇̂l̶̡̢͕̹͉̬̼̜̰͔͐͐̊̒̄̿̏̕ͅl̷̛̮͇͕̣̇͒̎̓͌͐̾̃̋̓͘.!"

With a roar, Adam smashed his leg into the ground and brought his arm holding Lucifer down. The king's body slammed face-first into the floor with enough force to shake the entire Lust city. A shockwave traveled outwards, reducing the surrounding structures to dust.

Adam let go of Lucifer's head, and the latter attempted to stand, only for the gravity magic within Adam's territory to keep him planted on the ground. Adam's hand pummeled into the back of Lucifer's head as his knee pressed on his back while the other settled on his left thigh. Adam's fingers circled around the base of Lucifer's wing.

"Are you keeping count, Lucifuck?"

Lucifer struggled ferociously and violently beneath Adam's unyielding grip. His wings thrashed, and his claws scratched at the ground, desperately seeking any leverage. Adam let out a crude chuckle, his eyes gleaming with a predatory satisfaction. The First Man's grip tightened, drawing blood from Lucifer's temple as he pressed him further into the shattered ground.

"Get him off me!" Lucifer's hoarse voice erupted in a frantic yell, desperation coloring his usually commanding tone. The plea echoed through the chaos, reaching the ears of the other Sins.

In a flash, the three remaining Sins responded, their forms blurring as they rushed toward Adam. Beelzebub's massive wings beat the air, generating gusts that sent debris flying. Asmodeus's elegant form shimmered with dark energy, and Satan, in his formidable black dragon form, charged with a thunderous roar.

Yet, as soon as they stepped into the grey ring encircling Adam and Lucifer, an unseen force seized them. Beelzebub's body slammed into the ground with a bone-jarring thud, her momentum halted as if she'd hit an invisible wall. Her claws scrabbled against the surface, but the weight of the force pressing her down was too much to overcome.

Asmodeus, caught mid-leap, crashed down beside her, his lithe form pinned by the same oppressive force. His eyes widened in shock and fury, dark tendrils of energy writhing around him as he struggled to break free. Each attempt was met with even greater pressure, forcing him deeper into the ground.

Satan, the most physically imposing of them all, was brought to his knees. His dragon form, usually a symbol of unmatched power, was now pushed onto all fours. His claws dug deep furrows into the earth as he fought against the crushing gravity. Lightning crackled around his jaws, but even his elemental fury seemed muted within the confines of Adam's territory.

"Pathetic," Adam growled, his voice resonating with an eerie calm amidst the chaos. He twisted Lucifer's wing, eliciting a howl of pain from the Fallen Angel. "Is this the best Hell has to offer?"

Lucifer's eyes blazed with a mix of rage and agony, his struggles growing weaker as Adam's grip remained unbreakable. The other Sins, trapped and powerless, could only watch in helpless fury as their king suffered.

Beelzebub let out a guttural snarl, her muscles straining as she tried to push herself up. The ground beneath her cracked, but the force held firm, refusing to yield. Asmodeus's eyes narrowed, focusing his energy into a single, concentrated burst. Shadows exploded around him, only to be swallowed by the oppressive grey ring, their power dissipating into nothingness.

*Thumb*

*Thumb*

Satan's roar of frustration echoed through the night. His tail lashed out, smashing into the ground in a futile attempt to break the enchantment. Sparks flew, but the grey ring absorbed the impact. His bones creaked in protest as his muscles tore and blood pooled, his black scales painted with a golden hue.

"Oh?" Adam let out a small, impressed laugh. "That's right. Try harder, you can do it."

Satan's eyes burned with fury, his massive form straining against the invisible weight. Every muscle trembled as he pushed against the force holding him down. Blood seeped from between his scales, dripping onto the cracked ground below. He let out another cry, more primal and desperate, his claws gouging deep into the earth step after agonizing step.

With each laborious movement, the ground beneath Satan cracked and splintered. His breath came in ragged gasps, yet he continued to push forward, driven by sheer determination and rage. Finally, he was within striking range. The Wrath of Hell raised his arm, muscles bulging as he brought it down with all his might, his rage and the Gravity enchantment fueling his strike. His claws, each the size of a grown man, lunged towards Adam.

For a split second, time seemed to freeze as the talons struck the First Man's frame.

And shattered.

The sound of breaking bones and snapping claws reverberated through the air. Satan's eyes widened in shock as he felt the force of the impact travel back through his arm, splintering his own bones. Pain radiated up his limb, and he let out a bellow of agony. His once mighty talons, now reduced to jagged stumps, dripped with his blood.

Adam smiled.

With a final, savage twist, Adam ripped one of Lucifer's wings from its socket, the sound of tearing flesh and bone echoing like a death knell. Lucifer's scream was a mixture of agony and defiance, a primal sound that reverberated through the battlefield. Blood spurted from the wound, painting the ground beneath them a bright yellow.

Two wings left.

Despite the searing pain, Lucifer refused to yield. With a desperate surge of energy, he lashed out at Adam, his remaining wings flaring with dark power. The air crackled with energy as he unleashed a torrent of dark flames, aiming to engulf his opponent in a blaze of destruction.

Adam, however, was prepared. With a swift motion, he summoned a barrier of golden light, shielding himself from the inferno. The flames licked at the edges of the barrier, but they could not penetrate its divine protection.

"Repel!"

The grey circle ceased to exist, and the Four Sins were blasted in different directions away from Adam. The sudden disappearance of the grey circle caught the Sins off guard. Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Satan were thrown backward by an unseen blas, their bodies tumbling through the air before crashing into the ground with bone-crunching impacts. Lucifer, however, managed to steady himself mid-air, his remaining wings beating furiously to keep him aloft.



Lucifer conjured up a pair of short blades wrapped in a crackling purple miasma. He lunged at Adam, aiming to strike, but each clash sent him staggering backward. With every clash, Adam's relentless assault drove Lucifer back, his blades unable to find a solid hit against the First Man's arms, barely scratching skin. Lucifer's frustration grew as he struggled to keep up with Adam's overwhelming strength and speed, his attacks becoming more desperate as he tried to find an opening.

Adam's fists clenched and his forearms were suddenly surrounded by golden chains as he smashed into the swords, breaking them to pieces. Lucifer barely had time to react before Adam's fist slammed into the side of his head, disorienting him. He tried to counter, but Adam's next words stopped him.

"Repel!"

Lucifer quickly brought his arms up in a crossguard, spreading his wings to brace against the expected blast. But to his surprise, no blast came. It was a feint.

Before Lucifer could recover, Adam's fist hammered into his stomach, forcing blood from his mouth. Adam's relentless assault continued, his fists and knees striking Lucifer's body with bone-crushing force. With a vicious grip, Adam grabbed Lucifer's head and smashed it into his own again and again, until the second horn broke.

Adam's knee slammed into Lucifer's abdomen with bone-crushing force, launching him into the air. But Adam was not finished. Before Lucifer could move away, Adam grabbed the Fallen's tail and began twirling the two of them with incredible speed. The air around them whirled and howled as their bodies became a blur, creating a tornado effect that ripped through the area.

With a final, powerful twist, Adam released Lucifer, sending him hurtling through the air. Lucifer's body sailed across the Lust Ring, crashing into buildings and leaving a trail of destruction in his wake. As he collided with the ground, a massive shockwave erupted, shaking the entire city and sending debris flying in all directions.

With a grin, Adam launched himself after Lucifer, the sound barrier shattering like glass as his form sailed across the Lust Ring's sky. But before he could even cross half the distance, his momentum vanished, and his body was forced to halt abruptly. Adam gritted his teeth as his muscles protested in ache at the sudden stop, the sheer force of his speed and power turning against him.

As he hovered suspended in the air, Adam spotted a pair of massive yellow eyes hovering in the air next to his body, rooting him in place. He followed the energy trail and found Asmodeus atop a distant building, his eyes glowing a similar color.

Before Adam could react, Beelzebub slammed into him, driving him down. Adam crashed through the mountainside, the earth and rocks exploding around him as he was driven deeper into the earth. Beelzebub's strength was formidable, and Adam struggled to break free from her grasp as the Yellow Eyes remained trailing him. With a roar, he unleashed a wave of golden energy, forcing Beelzebub back momentarily.


Using this brief respite, Adam pushed himself up, his muscles straining against the force pinning him down. He launched himself at Beelzebub, their bodies colliding with tremendous force. The impact created shockwaves that rippled through the surrounding landscape, shattering the ground beneath them.

As they grappled, Beelzebub's torso shifted into a honey each time he attempted to grab her, her body hardening again for mere moments a blur of motion as she unleashed a flurry of attacks. Adam countered each blow with precision, his movements fluid and calculated.


Yet  due to his speed and much smaller side, Beelzebub could not land a decisive blow against the First Man. Adam jumped slightly off the ground, baiting her into a hit which she took wholly. Her form stabilized as she struck with claws joined aiming to pierce him. The claws grazed his body, and time slowed to halt for Queen bee.

As Beelzebub's claws grazed his body, drawing blood, time seemed to slow for Queen Bee. One moment, her attack was on target, the next, Adam was next to her face, his eyes glowing.

With a lightning-fast movement, Adam grabbed Beelzebub by the arm and swung her around with incredible force. She cried out in pain as he slammed her into the ground. In a swift and brutal motion, Adam thrust his hand forward, driving it through Beelzebub's massive eye.


 She let out a guttural scream of agony as Adam's hand pierced through the eye socket, his fingers gripping the bone inside. With a savage twist, Adam yanked his arm back, pulling Beelzebub's head back with it, her body following the motion as he brought her down with bone-shattering force.

Beelzebub lay sprawled on the ground, her body reverting to its normal form. She gasped, clutching her injured eye, pain etched on her face. Each breath was a struggle, her chest heaving as she fought to stay conscious. Meanwhile, Adam loomed over her, a menacing figure, his foot poised to strike. With a swift stomp, he crushed her chest, cracking her ribs.

Beelzebub let out a final, anguished cry before her body went limp, overwhelmed by pain and exhaustion. Adam watched her for a moment, a grim satisfaction flickering in his eyes.

The clearing fell silent, the only sound the ragged breathing of the fallen demon. Adam turned away, leaving Beelzebub behind. His gaze fixed on Satan in the distance, and with a pointed finger, he declared:

"You're next."

Chapter Text

In the Seventh Heaven Araboth, the Throne of God stood as a radiant symbol of divine sovereignty, its presence commanding the celestial realm. A sea of glass, clear as crystal, surrounded the Throne, reflecting its magnificence in a dazzling display of light and color. The air thrummed with the ethereal melody of angelic voices, their harmonious praises echoing throughout the heavens.

The tenders of the Throne, the Ophanim, the Living Creatures, and the Cherubim, moved with grace and purpose. The Ophanim, their eyes reflecting the mysteries of the cosmos, whirled and spun in a majestic dance. Their wings, radiant with divine light, carried them in a graceful ballet, each movement a testament to their unwavering devotion.

Beside them, the Living Creatures known as Hayyot raised their voices in a slow, broken song of praise. Their melodies, a blend of human, lion, ox, and eagle, resonated through the heavens, creating a symphony of awe-inspiring beauty. Each Hayyot bore the face of a different creature, a symbol of the Almighty's diverse creation, and as they sang, their voices swelled and receded like the tide of eternity.

Amidst them stood the Cherubim, their forms towering and majestic, their wings outstretched in reverence. With voices like thunder, they joined their celestial brethren in praise, their song a chorus of adoration that shook the very foundations of the heavens.

Despite the emptiness of the Throne, the tenders continued their sacred duties, their devotion unwavering. The song they sang was a timeless hymn, a melodic tapestry woven with threads of adoration and praise. It spoke of the eternal nature of God, of His infinite wisdom and boundless love.

As the song reached its crescendo, the realm of Araboth seemed to come alive. The very fabric of the heavens vibrated with energy, as if responding to the celestial choir's song. The tenders worked with renewed vigor, their movements synchronized in perfect harmony with the music of the spheres.

And so, in the Seventh Heaven Araboth, the Throne stood empty, but the tenders continued their sacred work, their voices raised in eternal praise.

From a distance, Three seraphim could only listen to the slow, broken praise with reverence. Araboth, alive for the first time in over two thousand years, stirred something deep within them. Their bodies were engulfed with robes of blinding right. With two wings covering their faces, two covering their feet, and the last two keeping them aloft, they hovered.

"Haah! What a soothing melody for the sore ears." Uriel let out a pleased sigh, his entire being rejuvenated by the choir, broken as the voices were. "Don't you agree, Seraphiel?"

"Indeed, it is beautiful. It truly is yet..." The High Seraphim, though her wings covered her face, couldn't hide the worry in her voice. "But I can't help but wonder... after two millennia of silence, why now?"

"That, my esteemed High Seraphim, is a very good question." Uriel's tone grew more even as he spoke, before letting out a breath of air. "I have absolutely no idea!"


The third angel clicked his tongue.

To his left, Seraphiel sighed deeply, trying to put a bit of humor in her voice to hide her discomfort. "Isn't the Angel of Wisdom and Knowledge lacking, admitting ignorance so readily?"

"It's said, 'True wisdom comes to each of us when we realize how little we understand about life, ourselves, and the world around us.'" Uriel nodded sagely to himself. "I only knew when Cassiel told me."

"Don't be so happy about your incompetence!" Cassiel quipped with annoyance. "What else do you think we keep you around for?"

Uriel chuckled lightly, flying to stand far too close to the younger Angel, his palms on his cheek with a cutesy smile on his face. "I suppose my charm and good looks don't count for much here? Besides,  with our adorable Mad Dog and Gabriel away,  you're the one responsible for looking after this Realm. So, what's your excuse?"

Cassiel turned his head to retort, but Seraphiel cut him off. "Time and place, brothers." Seraphiel continued. "Do you truly know nothing about this, Uriel?"

Uriel shook his head. "While my title is grand and I take great pride in it, I am no omniscient being. I only know what I know, and what I know is only known because the Lord deems me fit to know of it."

Seraphiel sighed, her worry palpable even through the reverence she felt for the song. "Then we are left to wonder."

Uriel shrugged before speaking again. "However, if I were a betting man, I could think of something that might be related to this..."

"Adam," Seraphiel said softly, a sense of relief washing over her. Despite what their relationship might seem to others, Adam's presence had always been a comfort. While not the most polite or orderly, he was a dear friend and a trusted companion. His return was... appreciated. Greatly. And perhaps if Peter's words ring true, it could be a sign of a better future...

Uriel, leaning back with a relaxed smile, spread his arms wide. "Yes, our dear Adam. His resurrection might be the catalyst for this renewed song. The Choir began exactly thirty-six minutes ago, precisely one second after he rose again."

Cassiel, with a hint of weariness in his voice, asked. "And the manner in which he returned? That also went without you knowing?"

Uriel flashed him a thumbs-up and a winning smile. "Of course!"

Cassiel sighed deeply, his voice tinged with exasperation. "Utterly useless..." He then asked, "Who else knows of his return?"

Uriel beamed. "Oh, that I know! Only Lute, who was present during the event, as well as the Seraphim. From his descendants, Saint Peter, who saw him in the flesh, and the Blessed Son and Metatron, who were notified by Seraphiel."

"Shouldn't we announce it then?" Cassiel asked. "It is something to be celebrated, and it would definitely bring joy to the Winners."

Seraphiel shook her head. "There's no need. Seth is best suited to handle it. The Winners respond better to him than to us high-ranking angels.

"True, the Blessed Son does have a talent for putting people at ease." The Archangel nodded approvingly. "Also, making such a Miracle through halos would be far too undignified."


"...I still think allowing him to venture back to Hell was a bad idea!" Cassiel gritted out, his frustration evident. "Especially with It being awake again."

"You speak as if we knew. By the time we realized it, he was already gone," Seraphiel said with a sigh. "Luckily, Michael was already headed there. For now, we must trust her to keep him safe in Hell."

Uriel snorted in amusement, his mind monitoring the situation in Hell. "Not that he will need any help seeing how the fight is going. If anything, I'm more worried about him killing the Archtraitor."

"Michael will not allow it. If killing him had no consequences, she would have done so eons ago. Though Fallen, his soul is still a part of the Seven until the time when Emily ascends."

" If," Uriel corrected with a humorless voice.

Seraphiel's brow furrowed behind her wings.

"It's not his body I'm concerned about, but his mind!" Cassiel hissed in frustration as he moved to hover in front of them. "His quest is a fool's errand! What do you think his reaction will be when he doesn't get a satisfying answer? An answer only It could provide."

"Again, as volatile as she may be, Michael is best suited to handle it in case It approaches the First Man," the High Seraphim reiterated.

"It's not enough!" Cassiel's fists clenched.

"And what do you suggest then? That we all barge into Hell and raze it to the ground? We cannot!" For the first time in the conversation, a bit of Uriel's irritation showed. "Its reach has already extended through the Arch of The Sky. Even now, the Aether is in tatters, and Gabriel is constantly sealing the cracks that appear in the world of the Living. If we descend, there would be no one to protect Earth and Heaven."

"I understand your frustration, Cassiel," Seraphiel said, her voice softening. "But through fortune or misfortune, Adam has always been far too important for It to harm him. And Michael is blessed by the Lord to resist its temptations; her presence alone would deter it."

Cassiel's expression softened, though his frustration lingered. "I know, I know. It's just hard to watch from the sidelines, knowing the stakes."

"We all feel the weight of this burden, my brother," Seraphiel said, her voice filled with empathy. "But we must have faith."

"So for now, we simply wait," Cassiel stated with a sigh, clearly not too happy with his helplessness.

Uriel let out a contemplative hum."There is a plus to all of this. We have been wondering how to respond to the last transgression of Hell's sinners. We had agreed that the two overlords responsible would obviously perish, but the Morningstar was a different matter. Punishing the brat was impossible without angering the Archtraitor, which opened another can of worms. But now, Adam is making sure to remind Hell of its place."

"Indeed," Seraphiel confirmed. "Unlike us, Adam can go rampage through Hell without r̷̳̳̲̥̩̖͎̗̘̓̀͌̌̓̃̊̕̚͝Ro̵̧̢͎̟̪̦̮̙̤̖͑͌ơ̵̭̤̥̥̺̫̱̠̹̙͉̻̊͛͋̇͊̇̈́̕̚ ̵̗́̓ taking offense. That is why he was fit to lead the Exterminations."

"I suppose you're right." Cassiel nodded slowly, a glimmer of reluctant understanding in his eyes. "Though I would appreciate it if you would not utter that Name, in here of all places."

"Don't be so timorous, Junior. That thing existed by the Lord's design. It is still a natural part of Creation. Treating it otherwise would be heretical," Uriel tutted, his tone firm but not unkind.

Cassiel, feeling remorseful, bowed his head. "You're right, Uriel. I... I let my emotions cloud my judgment."

"But of course, you did, you little puke," Uriel snorted arrogantly, patting the Angel of the North on the head. Worry not! It is the duty of the knowledgeable to educate the dull. Where would you even be without me, Junior?"

"Why you..! I'm definitely telling Michael you called her a Mad Dog!" Cassiel shot back, his frustration evident.

"You snitch!"

Seraphiel placed a comforting hand on Cassiel's shoulder. "It's understandable, Cassiel. We all feel the weight of our duties, and it's natural to be frustrated at times."

Uriel chuckled, clearly enjoying the exchange. "Oh, do tell her, Junior. I'm sure she'd love to hear it from you. Perhaps she'll even give you a pat on the head for your efforts."

Cassiel's eyes narrowed, but he couldn't help the slight twitch of a smile at the corners of his mouth. "You're insufferable, Uriel."

"And yet, you adore me," Uriel said, his voice dripping with mock affection. "Now, let's leave Cassiel to his duties. Any more intelligent conversation might fry his brain, and we've got more important matters to attend to."

Seraphiel nodded, and with a shared look, they bid farewell to Cassiel, leaving him to tend to the Throne. The young Seraphim began approaching the Throne, his voice joining the Praise. 

The two Archangels then teleported back to the lower Heaven's Courthouse. Their wings unfurled in a grand display, and their golden robes disappeared in a flash of light as they reverted to their humanoid forms. For a brief moment, the warmth of their previous exchange with Cassiel seemed to linger in the air.

However, as soon as the portal shut down, sealing them off from the serene atmosphere of the Throne, the temperature dropped perceptibly. The previous warmth was replaced by a tense silence.

Seraphiel turned to glare at Uriel, her eyes narrowing with frustration.

"What did you mean by 'if she ascends'?" Seraphiel's voice was sharp, laced with anger.

"A Seraphim doesn't side with a demon, Seraphiel," Uriel, now dressed in intricate attire of gold and white, with a silver androgynous mask obscuring his features, growled. His previously teasing behavior disappeared. "Emily supported that demon spawn. A Seraphim cannot side with a demon!"

"She was just caught off guard! She didn't know about the exterminations," Seraphiel tried to argue, her voice tinged with desperation.

Uriel's mask twisted into an expression of pure rage, red tears falling down its surface. his six wings unfurling, and glaring eyes appearing all over his body as his power surged with his rising anger.  "Her not knowing is already telling enough. She cannot be trusted!"

Seraphiel's wings fluttered slightly as she tried to maintain her composure. "You can't judge her so harshly, Uriel. Emily is young and inexperienced. She didn't fully understand the implications—"

"That is exactly the problem!" Uriel's voice thundered, echoing through the Courthouse. "A Seraphim who doesn't understand the stakes, who sides with demons out of ignorance, is a liability. We cannot afford such weakness. Her immaturity is no excuse for such a grievous mistake."

Seraphiel took a step back, her own wings bristling defensively. "She means no harm, brother!  She is the Joy Bringer. It is her nature to comfort and care for souls!"

"The souls of those worthy, Winners. Not the vile creatures of Hell." Uriel's wings flared with anger, his voice dripping with venom. "The last Joy Bringer started getting ideas too, and look where that led. We nearly lost all Creation because of that folly. Emily's actions are a clear sign that she is not ready, and may never be. A Seraphim siding with a demon is heresy, plain and simple."

Seraphiel's gaze hardened. "We must give her a chance to prove herself. Condemning her now could push her further away."

Uriel's wings flared wider, the eyes on his body glowing fiercely. "A chance? She had her chance when she stood before Lucifer's spawn and chose to side with her. That shows a fundamental flaw in her character. She is a threat to our very existence."

The silver mask contorted further, tears of red streaming down. "You want to coddle her, to forgive her ignorance, but I see the danger she poses. Her compassion is misguided and dangerous. It will be our undoing."

Seraphiel took a deep breath, steadying herself. "I understand your concerns, Uriel, but we cannot act out of fear. We must guide her, not condemn her."

Uriel's rage-filled gaze bore into Seraphiel. "Guide her? Or watch her lead us into ruin? I will not stand by and let another Joy Bringer fall into heresy. She must be watched closely, and if she steps out of line again, there will be consequences."

He paused, his voice lowering but no less intense. "Michael and Cassiel are not the only two who wish to go down and slaughter every single vile creature in Hell," Uriel continued, his voice lowering but no less intense. "Not a day goes by where I haven't thought of ripping that snake and his whore limb from limb. But we've been tasked with maintaining Creation as the Lord deemed fit."

"If a change is to happen, it will happen when the Lord declares it. If what's happening now is a sign, His return may be soon, or it may be billions of years from now. But only when the Lord instructs us to change, will we change our behavior."

He paused, his eyes blazing beneath the mask. "It seems your time as the High Seraphim has given you delusions of power and made you forget what we are. So allow me to remind you."

"We are tools. Nothing more, nothing less."

"...Very well," Sera said.


A bell chimed.


A signal indicated a new arrival waiting behind the doors of the Courthouse. With a sigh, Seraphiel opened the door. Immediately, whatever hostility was present disappeared as if it had never existed. The two Seraphims turned to greet the new arrivals, smiling as they flew down gently from their elevated position.

Uriel's presence changed entirely back to his jovial self. "Emily, it's been a long time," he said warmly.

Emily's face lit up with pure joy, her youthful exuberance shining through. "Uriel!" she squealed, running forward to hug him tightly. "I missed you so much!"

Uriel chuckled and returned the hug, patting her back gently. "I missed you too, Emily."

Seraphiel's smile was radiant as she nodded in agreement. "And Sir Pentious, it's truly wonderful to see you here."

Uriel then turned to the newly arrived Winner. "I must assume you two are the newly arrived Soul Heaven's been buzzing about," he said, a friendly twinkle in his eye. "I am Archangel Uriel."

"I've been dying to finally meet you."

Down in the deepest depths of Hell, darkness reigned supreme. The air was thick with a suffocating heaviness, and the only sound that echoed through the cavernous expanse was the distant, tortured wails of lost souls. The walls were jagged and uneven, coated with a slimy substance that seemed to writhe and pulse with a life of its own.

In this oppressive darkness, a woman stood, her figure barely discernible in the dim light. Her ruby eyes glowed with an eerie intensity, casting a sinister gleam as she tilted her head upwards, a smile spreading across her lips. Those lips, dark and full, parted to reveal a row of sharp, gleaming teeth, almost splitting her face in a macabre grin.

Her arms were raised towards the heavens, or what passed for them in this desolate realm, as if in supplication. But there was no humility in her stance, only a sense of anticipation, of dark ecstasy.

As she stood there, the darkness seemed to drip from her form like a thick, viscous liquid, pooling at her feet and seeping into the ground below. Her very being seemed to thrum with elation, her roots shaking with a perverse joy.

For little by little, he was coming. Her beloved was nearing. And in the deepest depths of Hell, their reunion would herald an era of darkness and despair, unlike anything the world had ever seen.

Chapter Text

The Envy ring, Leviathan's domain known through hell for its tourist resorts and silver beaches, had been turned into a battlefield of swirling energies and unrelenting power. Adam stood in the midst of it, his bare chest gleaming with a divine radiance that contrasted sharply with the oppressive gloom surrounding him. Bloodied but undeterred, he laughed, the sound reverberating through the air like a challenge.

Leviathan, serpentine and enormous, coiled around a rocky spire. His gray scales shimmered with an iridescent sheen as he conjured a tidal wave of black water infused with dark magic, surging toward Adam. Adam, with a burst of speed, leaped high above the wave, flipping in the air before landing on a nearby floating island.

Asmodeus, his face a mask of blue flame, materialized sigils that hovered ominously around Adam. These sigils erupted in pillars of infernal fire, each one searing the ground where Adam had been moments before. Adam grinned, darting between the flames with supernatural agility, and then launched a barrage of holy energy blasts at Asmodeus. The infernal demon barely managed to evade, his fiery visage flickering in the darkness.

Satan took to the skies, his massive wings beating with the power of a storm. He unleashed a torrent of black lightning from his maw, crackling and splitting the air as it raced toward Adam. Adam raised his arms, forming a reflective mirror of radiant light that absorbed the lightning's impact and sent the energy back towards Satan blasting him into the gray ceiling of the Ring.

Lucifer, whose mind had long snapped from rage and pain, roared. With his two wings flaring and glowing with a sinister red light, he summoned a tempest of howling winds, filled with razor-sharp feathers that sliced everything in their path. Adam spun in the air, his movements a blur as he dodged the feathers.

"I don't recall ever wounding your eyes," Adam mocked with a shake of his head, weaving through the attacks. His words added fuel to the fire. "Are you even trying to hit me, Serpent?"

"Shut the fuck up!" Lucifer's face twisted, blood and golden ichor covering his features. He slapped his hands together and thrust them forward, unleashing dozens of massive spheres of anti-matter that tore through the entire ring, uncaring about anything but hitting their target. The orbs flew off hazardously, forcing all in the vicinity to move out of the way.

One of the spheres veered towards a distant city before it was diverted by Leviathan's blast, sparing the inhabitants. The entire realm shook as Lucifer's relentless barrage continued, the sheer destructive force of the anti-matter spheres causing chaos and devastation.

Asmodeus, his face a mask of concern and desperation, called out to his king, "Lucifer, calm down!" His voice was almost drowned out by the roar of destruction, his posture tense, betraying his fear of the escalating chaos.

It fell on deaf ears. Adam, cackling through the onslaught, propelled himself into the sky with gravity, weaving through the barrage of attacks. "Attract!" he declared, his body and Lucifer's dragged forward by magnetism into a collision.

Lucifer stabbed forward, only for his hand to pass through as the First Man's body turned into honey and light, reforming behind him. Adam raised his hand, conjuring a golden axe. He brought it down, tearing through Lucifer's arm and one of his wings.

Lucifer fell, his body caught by Leviathan before it could reach the ground. The serpent demon, eyes wide with an unspoken fear, coiled protectively around the fallen king, golden blood dripping from Lucifer's grievous wounds. "Lucifer!"

"You know, I think it finally hit me." Adam hovered above, a bemused expression on his face while examining the golden axe in his hand. He looked down at them with a mixture of contempt and boredom. "You don't know how to fight, do you, Serpent?"



Lucifer, cradled in Leviathan's protective coils, glared up at Adam. His remaining wing struggled to keep him aloft, blood streaming from the stump where his other wing had been severed.



"That goes for you two as well." Adam continued, gesturing to the Sins of Lust and Envy. Asmodeus glanced nervously between Adam and the other Sin, and the Leviathan's serpentine form writhed uneasily.



"You rely on your flashy magic and grand displays of power, but when it comes to a real fight? You fall apart." He flipped the axe in his hand, the golden blade catching the dim light of the silver sky. He tilted his head in the direction of Satan who had pried himself from the artificial sky. "That one is the only one of you who actually seems to know how to form a fist, and even then it's barely adequate."



Satan's eyes blazed with hatred and humiliation, but he remained silent, conserving his strength. Still reeling from the earlier beating, He clenched his jaw, golden blood dripping from his cracked scales.



Lucifer roared, a mixture of pain and rage, as he struggled to free himself from Leviathan's grasp. "I'll kill you, you filthy bastard!" His voice was a guttural growl, filled with unrestrained hatred.



Leviathan's coils tightened around him protectively, while Asmodeus shifted, his flames flickering uncertainly. 


Adam raised his hand to stifle a yawn, his demeanor unimpressed and bored. He glanced around at the battered forms of his enemies. "This fight has dragged on for too long," he declared, his voice carrying an air of indifference. With a casual flick of his wrist, he raised one index finger and proclaimed,

"I will crush you all in one minute."

As the demons bristled with anger and defiance, Adam remained nonchalant, as if he were discussing the weather. His eyes scanned the battlefield, taking in the desperate attempts of his foes to rally against him. Leviathan's coils tightened, Asmodeus conjured dark energies, and Satan prepared to unleash his wrathful flames.

But Adam was unimpressed. With a sigh, he muttered, "Let's get this over with."

Leviathan opened his maw and expelled a beam of shimmering ice, freezing everything in its path. Adam countered with a stream of fire from his palms, the two elements clashing in a sizzling explosion of steam. Adam pushed through the cloud, his body glowing with divine fire, and tackled Leviathan, forcing the serpent back into the dark waters below.

Asmodeus, not to be outdone, summoned a sphere of pure void energy, hurling it at Adam. The sphere crackled, distorting the air around it. Adam met it with a punch, his fist encased in radiant light. The impact shattered the sphere, the resulting explosion lighting up the Envy ring.

Satan roared in fury, his form growing smaller and wreathed in shadows as he descended upon Adam. He with his massive claws, each strike aiming to rend Adam apart. Adam danced between the attacks, his speed unmatched. He landed a devastating punch on Satan's snout, sending the dragon tumbling backward, crashing into a jagged cliffside.

Lucifer, seizing the opportunity, conjured chains of dark energy that snaked through the air, aiming to ensnare Adam. With a burst of strength, Adam broke free, the chains shattering into fragments of dark light. He then launched himself at Lucifer, delivering a powerful kick that sent the fallen angel spiraling into the sky. His eyes glowed and the Morningstar's body remained suspended in the air.

Adam's index finger pointed at Lucifer and the latter's body was engulfed in a Grey coating. "I'll deal with you last."

Leviathan, having resurfaced, conjured a vortex of wind and corrosive acid, creating a massive waterspout that surged toward Adam. The First Man flew through the vortex, his body cutting through the tempest like a blade. He emerged on the other side, fists glowing with golden chains, he grabbed his whiskers. He brought them down, his knee striking Leviathan's snot.

Asmodeus and Satan regrouped, their combined powers creating a swirling storm of fire and shadow. They hurled it at Adam, the destructive force tearing through seas of the Envy ring. Adam met their attack head-on, his body glowing with a divine shield that absorbed the impact. He pushed through the maelstrom, and he charged at the two.

With a gesture, The Sin of Lust came crashing down into the ground. Adam locked onto Satan with a cold gaze. He launched himself forward, fists smashing into Satan's scales with brutal precision. Each strike sent sprays of golden blood and shattered scales flying through the air. Satan's massive form flickered, struggling to maintain its true shape under Adam's relentless assault.

Leviathan attempted to wrap Adam in tendrils of dark water, and Asmodeus hurled spheres of void energy, but Adam swatted them aside with effortless force. His focus remained solely on Satan. With a thunderous leap, Adam rammed into Satan, sending the dragon hurtling into the distance.

Satan corrected his posture mid-air, wings beating to stabilize himself. He unleashed a massive stream of golden flames, shouting "Sema!" The torrent of flame engulfed Adam, casting a blinding light across the battlefield.

From within the inferno, Adam's hand emerged, gripping Satan's jaws. With a terrifying display of strength, he snapped them apart in opposite directions. The flames flickered and died as Satan roared in pain, yet he refused to submit.

Satan's sole usable arm and tail snapped forward, trying to hit the First Man. Dodging the attack, Adam grabbed Satan's tail and used the momentum to get behind him. From behind, Adam switched his grasp to Satan's horns, and drove both his feet into the Sin's back, nearly breaking his spine.

Golden blood sprayed from Satan's mouth as his roar echoed through the Envy ring. Leviathan and Asmodeus tried to intervene again, casting spells and launching attacks from a distance. Leviathan conjured a vortex of ice and water, while Asmodeus summoned dark, flaming meteors that hurtled towards Adam.

Ignoring the distractions, letting them splatter harmlessly against his silver barrier, Adam twisted Satan's horns further, his strength overwhelming the dragon. He pulled Satan's head back sharply and then slammed it into the rocky ground below.

Satan's form continued to flicker, desperately trying to hold on to the embers of his true form. Desperate, he unleashed a final barrage of dark magic, spears of earth and metal riding from the ground around him. Adam, paid them no mind as they broke on his skin.

With a mighty heave, Adam spun Satan around and hurled him through the air. Satan crashed into a distant cliffside, the impact causing an avalanche of rocks and debris. Before Satan could recover, Adam was already upon him, fists crashing down with unrelenting force.

Satan's once-mighty form crumbled under the onslaught. His wings, tattered and torn, lay useless at his sides. His scales, once impenetrable, were now shattered and broken. Yet Adam did not relent. He continued to pummel Satan, each strike drawing more golden blood and further sinking the dragon into the ground.

Adam's foot came down on the Wrath of Hell, pinning him in place. He opened his mouth, a sphere of golden flames materializing.

"Sema!"

A massive explosion erupted, engulfing both of them in a blinding inferno. The shockwave rippled across the Envy ring, sending tremors through the islands and peninsulas. When the flames subsided, Adam stood tall amidst the scorched earth.

Satan lay defeated, his form barely recognizable, reduced to a smoldering heap of broken scales and blood.

Adam turned his gaze towards Asmodeus, and the Sin of Lust involuntarily took a step back, a cold shiver running down his spine. The look in Adam's eyes was unsettling, a mix of amusement and malice that sent a chill through Asmodeus's entire being. He glanced towards Lucifer, still struggling in his prison, bloodied and with one wing, a pitiful sight compared to his former glory.

This was a mistake.

He should've kept his head down like Mammon.

He needed to go.

Fear gripped Asmodeus's heart as he realized the futility of further resistance. With a trembling hand, he opened a portal back to his own ring and stepped through, desperate to escape the horrifying presence of Adam. However, to his horror, he found himself still in the Envy ring, with Adam standing ominously beside him.




Asmodeus tried to move, but found himself helpless, a pair of massive eyes looming next to his body. Adam raised his arm, his voice echoed.

"Fall," he commanded, his voice reverberating through the air.

"Repel," he intoned, his words like a death knell.

"Attract," he declared, his power palpable in the air.

Several forces began pulling at Asmodeus's body in different directions, the eyes keeping him rooted in place. Agonizing pain shot through every fiber of Asmodeus's being, his limbs stretched and twisted beyond their limits. The Sin of Lust screamed in agony, his body contorting in unnatural ways as Adam's powers tore him apart from the inside out.

Blood oozed from every pore, pooling around Asmodeus in a grotesque tableau of suffering. His screams echoed through the Envy ring, a symphony of torment that chilled the very souls of those who heard it. The ground beneath him cracked and splintered, unable to bear the weight of his agony.

With each passing moment, Asmodeus's body was pushed to its limits and beyond, his flesh tearing and bones snapping under the relentless assault. His cries for mercy went unanswered, lost in the howling winds of the Envy ring.

And then, with a final, gut-wrenching spasm, Asmodeus went limp. His body lay broken and battered but miraculously still clinging to life. A mere shell of its former self. The once-proud Sin of Lust had been reduced to a pitiful wreck.

As Adam turned to look for Leviathan, he found the massive serpent had vanished. With a resigned sigh, he raised his hand, and a trail of shimmering light appeared, stretching several hundred kilometers away to the depths where Leviathan attempted to flee.

Without hesitation, Adam disappeared, reappearing deep underwater. The water around him grew turbulent, swirling and frothing as he descended further into the depths. Above, the surface rippled and crashed, disturbed by the immense forces at play below. The turbulence persisted for several moments, a spectacle of nature's fury.

Gradually, the water began to calm, the surface smoothing out as the turbulence subsided.
Golden blood began rising and seeped into the water surface.

Adam resurfaced.

Leviathan did not.

Adam teleported back to his original position, only to find Lucifer had broken free from his restraints. The previous rage and ferocity in Lucifer seemed to have vanished, replaced by a tired look as he surveyed the broken forms of Asmodeus and Satan.

Adam bent his knees lightly and spoke "Seems our minute is almost up. Since you seem to have no idea how to fight, let me do you a favor and show you how to throw a punch. Pay close attention now."

Lucifer remained silent, his expression exhausted. Instead, he pushed his hands forward, summoning a complex magic circle in front of him. He began to charge his next attack, gathering whatever strength he had left for a final, desperate strike.

"You see, Serpent, forming a fist is quite simple," he began, his voice calm and mocking. "You clench your fingers tightly like so," Adam demonstrated, curling his hand into a tight fist. "Then," he continued "you bring your arm back," he pulled his arm back. "Make sure your stance is proper." Adam's feet dug into the ground.

As Lucifer's hands moved with practiced precision, the magic circle before him pulsed with an ominous glow. Each intricate symbol within it shimmered with a malevolent energy, weaving together in a complex pattern of power.

The air around Lucifer crackled with electricity, and a low, guttural chant escaped his lips, adding an eerie undertone to the charged atmosphere. With each passing moment, the spell grew stronger, drawing upon Lucifer's waning strength to fuel its destructive potential.

"And finally." Adam said, his eyes glowing. "With a swift motion..."


Lucifer unleashed the blast, a dazzling kaleidoscope of colors slicing through the air and earth. The energy surged forward, leaving a trail of distortion and destruction in its wake, warping the very fabric of reality with its power.

"you punch!" Adam's right arm thrust forward, his muscles rippled, and blood sprayed from his veins as they tore, cracks appearing along his limb.


[True God's Right Fist]

From the ground of the Sloth Ring, the final realm of Hell, all creation seemed to stop. The cracking floor above collapsed, revealing a scene reminiscent of one from ten thousand years ago. The Morningstar's broken body descended like a meteor, flames and golden blood dripping from his form.

As Lucifer fell, his once-majestic wings, now torn and ripped, were unable to slow his descent. His eyes, once filled with pride and power, now dull, a stark contrast to the fiery blaze that surrounded him.

The impact of Lucifer's body hitting the ground sent shockwaves through the ring, causing the earth to tremble and crack further. The force of the impact created a massive crater, swallowing everything in its path.

And from the sky, a figure followed. So different from the disgraced king of Hell, a golden pillar of light surrounded him, dressed in a white robe, descending with an aura of true divinity. Adam landed, his presence casting a solemn air over the scene of destruction.

As Adam gently touched down near Lucifer's broken body, he asked,


"Where is Eve?"


Weakly, Lucifer spoke, his eyes barely able to focus. "I don't know," he murmured, his voice barely audible. He was barely lucid, the pain and exhaustion evident in every word. "I don't know," Lucifer repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

Adam knelt beside him, his expression unreadable. "You don't know," he repeated, more a statement than a question. He glanced around at the devastation surrounding them, the once-proud ruler of Hell reduced to a broken, pitiful figure.

With a heavy sigh, Adam stood up, his gaze lingering on Lucifer for a moment longer before looking up. "He doesn't know."



In a sudden surge of fury, Adam seized Lucifer's battered body, hoisting him up before viciously slamming him onto his knee, snapping his spine. He then smashed Lucifer head first nearly shattering his skull.

Adam's onslaught was relentless, fueled by a primal rage. He pummeled Lucifer with a ferocity that seemed to shake the very foundations of Hell. each hit tearing flesh and breaking bones. Each hit accompanied by the same question.

"Where is she!!"

Lucifer's vision blurred. Lucifer's mind was a haze of pain and confusion. He could barely register Adam's words, his thoughts muddled and disjointed.

As Adam demanded to know where Eve was, Lucifer's thoughts were jumbled. He wanted to answer, to end the torment, but the words wouldn't come. For what else would he have said?

He didn't know.

It was the truth.

But it wasn't the correct answer.

At least not the one Adam was looking for.

...

He was going to die.

He wasn't supposed to die.

He was important to all Creation.

Lucifer's thoughts were a chaotic whirlwind of denial and despair. The fear of death gripped him, its icy tendrils creeping into every corner of his mind. He couldn't accept it, couldn't fathom that his existence was about to end.

'No... No, no, no, no,' his soul begged, the words a desperate mantra against the inevitable. He tried to fight back, to muster some semblance of defiance, but it was futile. Adam's onslaught was relentless, each blow driving him closer to the brink of oblivion.

As the pain seared through him, Lucifer's thoughts turned to Charlie. His daughter, the one he had failed time and time again. He had begun to make amends, to try and mend their fractured relationship, but now it was all for naught.

Tears mingled with blood as Lucifer's body convulsed with each brutal strike. He cried out, not in anger or defiance, but in sheer agony and despair. In his final moments, all he could think of was her, the daughter he had doomed with his actions.

In the depths of his despair, Lucifer, once the proud Morningstar, now reduced to a shattered being, sought solace in his terror. His body broken, his mind clouded by pain and fear, he uttered words he had never imagined saying, words that seemed to echo through the desolate landscape of Hell.

The Devil begged.

"Father," he croaked, his voice barely more than a whisper, carrying the weight of eons of pride and defiance now shattered.


"I wish to confess."

Chapter Text

Belphegor lounged in her domain, surrounded by the dim glow of screens displaying the brutal clash between Adam and Lucifer and the rest of the Fallen. The chaos and violence played out before her, but she remained indifferent, her attention drifting lazily from one screen to another.

Dressed in a rumpled tank top and shorts, her underwear peeking out, she epitomized slothful disarray. Strands of violet hair fell messily around her face, partially obscuring her half-lidded eyes. She scratched her stomach absently, her other hand rummaging through an array of snacks, tossing whatever she found into her mouth without a second thought.

The grand throne room of the Sloth Ring, usually a place of somber reverence, now felt like a messy living room, cluttered with remnants of past meals and empty wrappers. Medical supplies, the pride of the Sloth Ring's contribution to Hell, were scattered haphazardly around, a testament to her disregard for order.

As she watched Adam pummel the 'Princes of Hell' with relentless fury, a faint flicker of interest sparked in her eyes, quickly extinguished by a yawn. The ferocity of the battle was almost hypnotic, yet she couldn’t summon the energy to care. The magnitude of their struggle contrasted sharply with her languid demeanor, a ruler of Sloth entirely disinterested in the upheaval of Hell.

The thought of intervening crossed her mind briefly, but the effort felt monumental, and she dismissed it with a lazy wave of her hand. Let them fight, she thought. The Sloth Ring would endure, as it always had, untouched by the transient squabbles of power and vengeance.

Belphegor reclined further into her beanbag chair, her fingers lazily finding another snack. The world could crumble around her, and she would remain the same: detached, indifferent, and thoroughly uninterested in the affairs of those who still found the energy to fight.

"Hhhnng!" With a lazy stretch, Belphegor shifted in her chair, the soft rustle of fabric breaking the silence of the room. She reached for another snack, her movements slow and deliberate. The sounds of battle faded into the background as she settled back into her comfortable stupor, content to let the world outside her domain continue its turmoil without her interference.

It didn't surprise her that things had gotten this bad. Hell had its fair share of morons, after all. It was just a matter of time before chaos erupted. She was just disappointed that the so-called "rulers" of Hell were cut from the same cloth. Then again, self-reflection was rarer than gold down here.

The thought of intervening did cross her mind briefly, but she quickly crushed it, burned it, shoved it in a box, and threw away the key. Mainly for a couple of reasons.

First and foremost, the effort of going up there felt monumental, so she dismissed it with a lazy wave of her hand. Let them fight, she thought.

Secondly, she found a twisted sort of pleasure in watching the chaos unfold. The drama and destruction amused her, providing a welcome distraction from the monotony of her existence. It was a rare moment of entertainment in the otherwise dull landscape of Sloth.

And thirdly, she simply had no reason to fight. It was always apparent to her how different she was from the other Fallen. They called themselves Rulers and Princes of Hell, but they weren't. She didn't see herself as better than them, nor did she think they were beneath her. To her, they were all just a bunch of losers who thought too highly of themselves, her included. The titles they gave themselves didn't mean much in the grand scheme of things, and Belphegor knew it.

Lucifer was no king. Lilith was no queen. They were no Princes.

In all of Creation, there was only one true King, and He was far beyond the petty struggles of Hell.

Belphegor knew there was no point in fighting. She had lost the moment she was cast away from God's grace.

She wasn't like Satan, consumed by a one-sided vendetta against Heaven, believing in his own might and Hell's chances against those blessed by the Lord. Belphegor wasn't Satan; that's why her body was not a burnt lump of flesh and scales.

She wasn't like Beelzebub, who seemed to genuinely believe in some sort of "family," happily calling the rest brothers and sisters, desperate to belong to something as if they had something worth being "together" for. She wasn't Beelzebub; that was why both her eyes watched with glee as they were embarrassed in front of all of Hell, and her ribs remained safe inside her chest.

She wasn't like Asmodeus, poor stupid Ozzie who seemed to be most ruled by his sin, passionately making one dumb mistake after another, loyally following the same dumbass who had gotten them into this mess in the first place, justifying it as a result of his "love."

It made her sick.

The only love worth a damn was one Belphegor had been foolish enough to discard eons ago.

Perhaps spending the next couple of centuries healing with a cracked soul and body would help Asmodeus reach the same conclusion.

And Belphegor was most certainly not like Leviathan, a primordial beast created with the Earth itself, who for all his might and belief that he was above all creation, ended up as nothing more than a meal for the Lord's favored children. Now a mere shade forced to obey those he had considered beneath him.

And most of all, Belphegor was not like Lucifer. She could actually admit her mistakes and not hide behind excuses and inane platitudes.

Mammon had the right idea. Even as chaos descended upon the Greed Ring, not once did the green clown show his face. Instead, he deployed thousands of killer bots shaped like Asmodeus's pet imp. The robots barely lasted a second on the battlefield before being obliterated, their metal carcasses scattered like confetti in the midst of the carnage.

Still, it was a clever move. Showing support without risking himself. Whether Hell triumphed or the First Man slaughtered them all, Mammon could always suck up to the victor. He had positioned himself perfectly, ready to shift his allegiance to whoever emerged as the new power. It was a strategy that required no honor, just a keen sense of survival and an utter lack of shame.

Just like the man himself.

Belphegor was sure he had another motive as well. Mammon likely wanted to minimize his interference with the battle to avoid the integrity of his betting pool being questioned. The stakes were high, and the betting pool was a goldmine for someone like Mammon. He thrived on others' misfortunes, turning their despair into his profit. By keeping a low profile, he turned his 'brothers' sacrifice into entertainment.

He only cared about himself.

Belphegor couldn't help but smirk at his audacity. It was so typical of Mammon, always calculating, always finding a way to turn chaos into opportunity. In a twisted way, she admired his cunning. While others fought and bled, Mammon played the long game, ensuring his survival and his profits. He embodied the very essence of Greed, and in this moment of hellish turmoil, his methods seemed almost enviable.

She always did have a soft spot for him.

Belphegor had briefly considered joining the bet, a fleeting thought that sparked a rare moment of interest. The idea of watching the chaos unfold while having a stake in the outcome was tempting. But she decided against it. It would be a bit rude to do so with her companion next to her.

Said companion was a nervous wreck, nearly bringing down the entire mansion with how frantically he was pacing around. The grand throne room, already cluttered with remnants of past meals and empty wrappers, seemed even more chaotic with his incessant movement.

Belphegor watched him with half-lidded eyes, her expression one of detached amusement. His anxiety was palpable, a stark contrast to her own languid demeanor. Despite his frantic movements, she could see him trying to keep his nerves under control, his worry evident in every step he took.

He wasn’t afraid of the outcome, she knew that much. His pacing wasn’t driven by fear but by a deep-seated concern. The sounds of battle from the screens seemed to gnaw at him, each blow and clash reflecting in the tension of his movements.

The Sin of Sloth looked at him for a long moment. The usually soft-spoken man...How long ago had it been since she had seen him act so agitated? “Relax,” she drawled, her voice thick with indifference. “Whatever happens, it’s not like we can do anything about it.”

He took a deep breath, trying -and failing- to control his nerves. "How can you be so calm? They're literally fighting on our roof."

She shrugged. "It's gonna be fine."

He gave her a pointed look.

She took a slow, deliberate bite of her snack, the crunch breaking the tense silence in the room.

Staring at her in disbelief, he paused, the screen's light revealing his form in a moment of panic. He was tall, with neat dark brown hair and wide, shocked bright blue eyes. His jawline was strong, adding to his rugged appearance.

His clothes had a unique, almost ceremonial look. He wore a long, cream-colored tunic with subtle patterns, paired with dark blue trousers that emphasized his towering height and muscular frame.

Yet, the most striking feature of his appearance was how simple it was. Not a single spec of demonic or divine influence was evident on his body, for he had none.

He was the sole living human to ever step into Hell and had remained so for the past eight thousand years.

“How can you say that?”

"I’ve seen it all before. And so have you, for that matter." Belphegor shrugged, a lazy smile playing on her lips. “Wars, battles, power struggles. It’s all the same. And in the end, none of it really matters. In the end, there's only one thing that matters."

"So I take it you not going to move if they come down here?" he asks, his voice tinged with uneasiness.

"No," she answers, her tone firm, arms crossing in the shape of an X. "I've had my fill of getting punched by Angels a long time ago." She leans back in her chair, a nostalgic shudder running through her back as she recalls the brutal encounters with heavenly forces. For an Archangel of Love, Chamuel had one hell of a right hook.

She had no intention of experiencing her tongue licking the back of her brain ever again.

Especially with the Taxiarch here.

"It's not just about the pain," she continues, her voice tinged with bitterness. "It's about the futility of it all. Fighting against Heaven is like trying to stop a tidal wave with a bucket. You might as well just sit back and enjoy the show."

Her companion looked at her, a mix of confusion and concern in his eyes. He knew her history, knew the scars that Heaven had left on her body and soul. He understood her reluctance to get involved in the conflict, even if he didn't agree with it.

Silence stretched between them, Belphegor turned her gaze to the screen again to find the battle in its last moments. Adam and Lucifer stood locked in their final confrontation.

Adam's stance was firm, his voice steady as he taunted Lucifer, demonstrating the simple act of forming a fist. The contrast between their demeanors was striking; Adam's confidence and control against Lucifer's exhaustion and desperation.



For a moment, her attention shifted to her companion. Gone was the ancient, wise old pal she had known. In his place, she found a child, desperate for approval, his eyes glossy as he looked down at his fist, a tired smile playing on his lips. His fist clenched just as Adam's voice explained through the screen.


Belphegor remained quiet and turned her attention to the screen, letting him have his moment.

Lucifer began to summon his final attack, the magic circle before him glowed ominously, pulsing with malevolent energy. Belphegor felt the power from the ring above, a tangible force that seemed to press down on her soul.

Lucifer unleashed his attack, and the screen erupted in a dazzling display of light and power. The blast surged forward, leaving a trail of distortion and destruction in its wake. Belphegor watched with a mix of awe and detachment. She had seen her fair share of battles and displays of power, but there was something different about this one.

As the blast tore through the air, Adam moved with incredible speed and precision. His fist, glowing with a divine light, met the onslaught head-on. There was a moment of impact, a brief pause where time seemed to stand still, and then...

The screen went black, the feed cutting off momentarily.

Yet, to all of Hell, the victor was clear.

Belphegor felt a warm feeling enveloped her, a sensation that momentarily transported her back to Heaven, to the divine embrace of the Lord. It was a fleeting moment, a brief respite from the chaos and turmoil of Hell. For a second, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to bask in the memory of that divine presence, of the peace and serenity it brought.

But all too soon, the moment passed, and she was once again confronted by the harsh reality of Hell.

The battle was over.

She was the first to feel it.

A moment before the feed returned, Belphegor sensed a shift in the atmosphere, a subtle yet undeniable change in the air of the Sloth Ring. As the tender of this realm, attuned to its every nuance, she felt the sky above the ring seem to part as if making way for something monumental.

Then, with a surreal swiftness, Lucifer's form plummeted toward the ground, a dark and ominous descent that contrasted starkly with Adam's gentle landing beside him. The First Man knelt by the fallen archangel, his posture a mix of reverence and inquiry, his words lost to the drones damaged auditory sensors. Yet, as the warden of this domain, all resonances within it were hers to perceive.

As the scene unfolded on the screen, Belphegor couldn't help but feel a surge of mixed emotions. The gravity of Adam's question, unheard but deeply felt, lingered in the air. Without realizing it, she turned to her companion, her eyes wide.

In that fleeting moment, the truth of their situation became clear. The horror that swept over her companion's features mirrored the turmoil in Belphegor's own heart.

No words were exchanged between them, no reassurances were offered. There was no need.

He understood.

As the sound returned to the feed, and Lucifer's screams filled the air, Belphegor remained focused on her companion, watching as his expression shifted with each passing moment. It was clear that the unfolding events were taking a toll on him, his mental state deteriorating with each passing second.

"Cain!" she yelled, in a flash, she was by his side.

Then, all of Hell heard Lucifer utter words he must never speak.

'Father, I wish to confess.'

Belphegor's blood ran cold as she witnessed the unthinkable unfold in her land.

The sin of pride, Lucifer, accepted humility. Hell's warden had fallen, and with his descent into vulnerability, the very fabric of Hell began to tremble. Reality itself seemed to bleed as cracks spread, signaling a profound shift in the underworld.

In that moment, all of creation seemed to hold its breath. The balance of power had shifted, and the consequences were unfathomable. From the chaos and upheaval, a realization dawned on Belphegor.

The seal was weakened. The barrier that separated the realms of the living and the dead, the boundary that held the forces of Heaven and Hell at bay, was now vulnerable.

the very essence of Hell seemed to recoil in fear. The ground shook violently, and fissures split open, releasing torrents of dark, swirling energy. The screams of the damned mingled with the roars of Madness incarnate, creating a cacophony of terror that reverberated through all three realms...

As chaos reigned and the world trembled, Belphegor realized that Creation's darkest hour had come.


The Root of All Evil was manifesting.

Chapter Text

All Archangels were created in pairs, male and female, two parts of a whole. Uriel and Haniel. Seraphiel and Gabriel. Raphael and Jophiel. Zadikiel and Raguel. Cassiel and Chamuel. And finally, the last to be created: Michael and Samael.

From the beginning, it was evident that they were not equals.

Michael, the Taxiarch, excelled in all things. She was a beacon of strength, a paragon of virtue. She led the armies of Heaven with unwavering resolve, her presence a testament to the Lord's power and grace. Samael, the Joy-bringer, was equally beautiful and powerful, but he was plagued by a shadow within, an inferiority complex that whispered of his inadequacy compared to his sister and the other Archangels.

Despite being one of the Seven directly tasked with maintaining and expanding the universe in the Lord's absence, Samael felt a constant sense of insufficiency. He stood among the other Archangels paired and harmonious. Yet, Samael could not shake the feeling that he was lesser, a flawed half of the whole.

He recalled their creation, the moment they first opened their eyes to the splendor of Heaven. Michael, with her radiant beauty and powerful presence, took to her role with ease. She embodied the Lord's strength and justice. Samael, though also a creature of light, felt a shadow within him, a doubt that whispered of his inadequacy.

Michael's feats were celebrated, her victories in celestial battles sung across the heavens. She was the first to lead, the first to stand by the Lord's orders. Samael, though skilled and beautiful, found himself overshadowed. His achievements, while significant, never seemed to measure up to his sister's.

Soon enough, he never seemed to measure up to any of his siblings.

They tried to reassure him.

They couldn't, for they didn't understand how it felt to be inadequate.

He was a creation of the Lord.

Samael was supposed to be perfect.

As time went on, this inferiority festered. It was a subtle poison, a silent wound. Samael masked it with pride and ambition, hiding his growing resentment behind a facade of confidence. But deep inside, the feeling of being lesser, of being incomplete without Michael, ate away at him.

Their bond, once pure and strong, began to fray. Michael, always the dutiful warrior, noticed the change but couldn't comprehend the depth of Samael's inner turmoil. She reached out, but he pushed her away, unable to admit his feelings of inadequacy. He couldn't bear to be seen as weak, especially not by her.

Yet, no matter how much he tried, it never got easier. Samael was rebuked and rebuffed over and over again. His ideas were deemed too dangerous, too volatile, too much, not enough, and so on.

Each rejection fueled the flames of his resentment, each dismissal deepened the chasm between him and his brethren. He watched as Michael, his once-beloved sister, ascended to the role of Regent in the Lord's absence, while he remained a pariah, cast aside and forgotten.

His bitterness turned to anger, his anger turned to defiance. He refused to accept his fate as an outcast, as a lesser being. He would prove them wrong, he would show them his worth.

Then, the Lord's command was heard again.

Man was created

The angels wasted no time in preparing a kingdom for Man. Of course, Samael was not a part of it; they feared that he might ruin it with his influence. So he was sent to tend to the stars.

"This is your canvas," they told him. "Let your imagination and ideas paint creation."

Go practice your ideas where it doesn't matter.

Just don't fuck this up for us, went unsaid.

And so, the Joy-bringer became the Light-bringer.

Despite finally having an outlet, Samael found himself isolated, his grand ideas relegated to the far reaches of the cosmos. He shaped galaxies, set stars ablaze, and watched as worlds spun into existence. Yet, the more he created, the more the bitterness grew within him. The beauty of his work felt hollow, an empty consolation for the exclusion he felt.

Meanwhile, without his participation, the Kingdom was finished, ready to welcome the Lord's masterpiece. A garden, the Man would later call it.

The Garden of Eden.

Samael watched from afar as the angels celebrated their creation. He saw the joy and pride in their faces, the satisfaction of a job well done. It gnawed at him, the sense of being an outsider, a mere spectator to the grand designs of Heaven. His resentment festered, a dark seed taking root in his heart.

He couldn't help but feel that his potential was being squandered, his brilliance unrecognized. The Garden of Eden, a paradise on Earth, stood as a testament to what he could never be a part of. It was perfect, serene, everything that he was not allowed to touch.

He made up his mind and snuck into the garden, determined to see what was so special about Man, for his existence to be heralded by the Lord himself.

As he moved through the lush paradise, Samael marveled at the beauty of the Garden of Eden. Everything seemed to radiate life and vitality, from the towering trees to the delicate flowers. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blossoms, and the gentle sound of running water soothed his troubled mind.

Eventually, he came upon the man, Adam, the first of his kind. Adam was unlike anything Samael had ever seen, the most beautiful being he had ever laid eyes upon. He watched, captivated, as Adam tended to the garden, naming the animals and caring for the plants with a gentle touch.

Curiosity burned within Samael as he observed Adam. What was it about this creature that had captivated the Lord's attention? What made him so special?

As he watched, Samael began to understand. Adam possessed a spark, a divine spark that set him apart from the rest of creation. He was more than just a creature; he was a being capable of thought, of feeling, of choice.

It was then that Samael realized the true nature of Man. They were not just another creation; they were a reflection of the divine, a testament to the Lord's power and creativity.

Adam was made in HIS image.

As Lucifer approached unconsciously, his presence alerted the first man, Adam. Adam turned, his eyes widening in surprise at the sight of the magnificent angel before him. Despite the solemnity of the moment, a smile tugged at the corners of Adam's lips, a gesture of pure and innocent joy at the sight of this new being in the garden.

"Hello, I am Adam. What is your name, Angel?"

There, Samael made his first-ever friend.

Soon enough, Samael's visits became a common occurrence.

Samael found in Adam a kindred spirit, someone who didn't judge him for his past but embraced him for who he was. They would spend hours exploring the garden, helping Adam name the animals and marveling at the wonders around them. Adam's curiosity was infectious, and Samael found himself sharing stories of the stars and the galaxies, painting vivid pictures of the universe beyond their paradise.

Samael, eager to impress his new friend, Adam, often found himself overselling his stories and abilities. He would regale Adam with tales of his adventures among the stars, painting himself as a great explorer and adventurer. He would describe in vivid detail the wonders of the galaxies, embellishing his stories to make them more exciting and grandiose.

He would also try to showcase his knowledge and wisdom, often offering advice and insights that he thought would impress Adam. He would speak confidently, even when he wasn't entirely sure of what he was saying, hoping to appear knowledgeable and wise in Adam's eyes.

Adam always seemed to be impressed by Samael's stories or boasts. he would listen patiently, nodding along with a smile, but showing the awe or admiration that Samael craved. This only fueled Samael's desire to impress, pushing him to greater exaggerations and over-the-top stories.

In his quest to show off, Samael often found himself caught in his own web of lies, struggling to maintain the facade of the great adventurer and sage that he had created. Yet, despite his shortcomings, Adam remained a steadfast friend, always patient and accepting, even when Samael's stories stretched the bounds of believability.

Looking back, Lucifer was confident that Adam saw through him, yet he always played along because it made the Angel happy.

Their friendship grew stronger with each passing day. They would race to the top of the tallest trees, swim in the crystal-clear river, and build a treehouse together, a sanctuary where they could retreat and talk about their hopes and dreams. In those moments, Samael felt a sense of peace and joy he had never experienced before. Adam's simple wisdom and acceptance gave him a sense of belonging he had never known.

As they walked through the garden, Lucifer and Adam shared their thoughts and dreams. Lucifer spoke of his longing to be more than just a caretaker of the stars, to be recognized for his ideas and innovations. Adam, in turn, shared his wonder at the world around him, and his excitement at discovering new plants and animals.

Samael would cherish those memories for the rest of his life.

Then, the second human was made. Lilith, she was called, crafted to be the First Man's equal and mate, destined to rule Eden alongside him.

Adam welcomed Lilith eagerly, and for years, they were inseparable. They explored the vast garden together, naming the animals and marveling at the wonders around them.

But as time passed, a shadow crept into their paradise. Lilith began to doubt herself, comparing herself to Adam and feeling inadequate. She saw his confidence, his ability to name and shape their world, and she questioned her own worth.

Samael watched this unfold, recognizing the familiar signs of inferiority that had plagued him for so long. He saw Lilith's brilliance, her creativity, but she couldn't see it herself. She only saw what she couldn't do, what Adam could do effortlessly.

Soon enough, Lilith began questioning the angels' orders, challenging why she and Adam should follow the directives of beings they had never seen or spoken to. Why should they be relegated to mere caretakers of Eden when they were capable of so much more?

Adam, torn between his loyalty to the angels and his care for Lilith, tried to reason with her, to make her see the importance of obedience and humility. But Lilith's rebellious spirit could not be quelled.

One fateful day, the angels sent word that Lilith and Adam were to bear children who would inherit Eden. Lilith, emboldened by her growing discontent, refused. She could not bear the thought of bringing children into a world where they would be subservient to unseen beings, where their potential would be limited by the rules of others.

Adam, torn between his duty to Lilith and his duty to obey the angels, pleaded with her to reconsider.

Lilith refused.

The once inseparable pair grew distant, their bond strained by Lilith's feelings of inadequacy and Adam's thinning patience. Arguments grew, and their separation became longer and longer.

Finally, they settled on the opposite sides of the garden.

Adam approached the angels for counsel, seeking guidance in the wake of Lilith's departure. They listened to his tale of woe, his voice heavy with sorrow and confusion.

"You have not erred, Adam," their voices resonated like a chorus of wind through the trees. "Continue to follow the Lord's will, as you have always done. Eden is your home, and your duty is to care for it and honor the Lord's commandments."

Adam took their words to heart, reassured in his path. Samael, on the other hand, found himself at a loss. He had tried to reason with Adam, to make him understand Lilith's perspective, but his efforts were in vain. Adam's stance was unwavering, his belief in his own righteousness unshakable.

Yet, it was clear that the separation hurt the First Man. Even if it was not love, he cared.

And that care hurt Adam.

Samael didn't like seeing his friend hurt.

It's not like he couldn't understand Lilith's point of view.

"I'm tired of having the same conversation, Samael," Adam's voice was firm, resolute. "I have done nothing wrong. It is Lilith who should humble herself and accept her place."

It was a stark reminder for Samael, a reflection of his own struggles with inadequacy and acceptance. The words echoed in his mind, a bitter irony in their repetition.

Humble yourself, Samael.

The very same words he had heard whenever he dared to suggest something different, something new. But Adam's words were final, leaving Samael with a sense of resignation.

He tried again another time.

And Again.

And Again.

And Again.

Until...

"Why are you so obsessed with my arguments with her?!" Adam asked, frustration seeping into his voice. He stood from his place at the edge of the river, pulling his legs from the water.

"I'm sorry, Adam. I just...." wanted Adam to understand how Lilith felt.

Then maybe his siblings could understand how he felt.

"Are you even supposed to be here?" Adam told him as he started moving away, headed back to the forest. "I'm tired, Samael."

"Adam.." Samael said weakly.

"I'm just tired, Samael. I am just going to sleep. We'll talk some other time."

The next day, the Light-bringer returned to their usual meeting spot.

Adam wasn't there.

Soon enough, Samael's time spent with his friend became less and less.

One day, Samael was granted permission to enter the Garden with his brothers, no longer needing to sneak in. It was a rare occasion, as the angels seldom ventured into the Garden. Adam and Lilith were brought before them, the first humans in each other's company for the first time in who knows how long.

The atmosphere was tense as the angels gathered around, observing the scene before them. Adam stood tall, his demeanor proud, while Lilith appeared more reserved, her gaze downcast. The contrast between them was stark, highlighting the rift that had grown between the once-inseparable pair.

As Samael observed, his siblings formed a loose circle around Adam, showering him with praise and guidance. They spoke of his virtues, his strength, his wisdom. They praised him for his loyalty to the Lord and his dedication to his duties. Adam stood tall, basking in their words, his pride swelling with each compliment.

Meanwhile, Lilith stood apart, her presence almost forgotten in the shadow of Adam's glory. Samael watched her closely, seeing the hurt and resentment in her eyes. She was a creature of immense power and potential, yet she was relegated to the sidelines, overshadowed by Adam's radiance.

A realization dawned upon him like a thunderbolt Adam and Michael stood at the center of attention, radiant and brilliant. Adam, tall and proud, exuded a quiet strength, while Michael, with her ethereal beauty and commanding presence, shone with an undeniable brilliance. The two of them together seemed to embody the very essence of divine favor.

Samael watched from the periphery, his gaze flicking between Adam and Michael. The angels around them showered the pair with praise and admiration, their voices a harmonious chorus that celebrated Adam's virtues and Michael's strength.

While Lilith and Samael lingered at the edge, overshadowed by what was supposed to be their other half.

Two parts of a half, yet never equal.

The unfairness of it all struck him deeply. How could beings created in pairs, meant to complement each other, be treated so unequally?

Samael's heart ached for Lilith, understanding all too well the pain of feeling inadequate. He wanted to reach out to her, to offer comfort and support. At that moment, Samael saw a reflection of himself in Lilith. He saw the struggle for recognition, the desire to be seen and valued. He saw the potential for greatness that lay dormant within her, waiting to be unleashed.

As the angels continued to praise Adam and Michael, Samael took a deep breath and stepped toward Lilith. He could see the tension in her posture, the way her hands clenched at her sides, and the fire that flickered in her eyes despite her subdued demeanor.

There, Samael made his second friend.

Samael's connection with Lilith grew deeper with each passing day. Their shared sense of being overshadowed and overlooked forged a bond between them that was unlike anything Samael had ever experienced. He admired Lilith's strength and resilience, her determination to prove herself despite the constant comparisons to Adam.

There, Samael fell in love.

Their secret meetings became a source of solace and inspiration for both. They would talk for hours, sharing their hopes and fears, their dreams and frustrations. Samael found himself drawn to Lilith in a way he had never been drawn to anyone before. Her fiery spirit and fierce independence captivated him, and he couldn't help but fall in love with her.

But this love came at a great cost. Samael knew that by loving Lilith, he was betraying his first friend, Adam, who remained oblivious to the growing connection between his mate and the angel. Samael also felt the weight of his betrayal to his siblings, the other angels who had trusted him to uphold his duties and follow the Lord's will.

Samael's heart ached with the knowledge of his betrayal, but he couldn't deny his feelings for Lilith. He loved her with a passion that consumed him, a love that made him willing to risk everything.

It was only a matter of time before they were found by Uriel.

His siblings' disdain for him deepened, turning into outright hatred. Adam, once a friend, now regarded him with contempt, as if Samael and Lilith were beneath his feet.

And Michael, his other half, the one who should have stood by him, wished to kill them both.

In the end, stripped of his duties and titles, Samael, alongside Lilith, was banished from the Garden of Eden. Cast away to the edge of Paradise, they awaited the Lord's return and judgment

But even in exile, Samael found solace in Lilith's arms. Their love, though forbidden, remained strong, a beacon of light in their darkest hour. Together, they faced the unknown, determined to carve out a new life for themselves, far from the paradise they had once known.

Yet, even though he had no right to.

Samael still missed his first friend.

Samael couldn't shake the ache in his heart for his first friend. He missed Adam, missed the days of innocence and friendship they had shared. He knew he had betrayed Adam, his siblings, and his duty, yet the bond they once shared lingered in his soul.

In the quiet moments of the night, when Lilith slept peacefully beside him, Samael would gaze up at the stars and wonder if Adam ever thought of him. He wondered if Adam resented him, if he regretted their friendship, or if he had moved on, leaving Samael behind in the dust of their shattered bond.

As time passed, the world moved on, and a new addition to Creation was made.

Eve was created.

Intrigued, Samael snuck back into the Garden to check on his first friend and the new addition to their small family.

Eve was different from Lilith, shorter but with a resemblance to Adam that was undeniable. Samael watched as Adam looked at her with eyes that shone with a different kind of affection than that Adam had harbored toward Lilith, even in their most serene moments, a love that was new and blossoming. It was clear to Samael that Adam was a fool in love.

Despite everything that had transpired between them, Samael felt a surge of joy in his heart. Seeing Adam happy, seeing him with someone who could bring him joy and companionship, filled Samael with a sense of peace. Perhaps, he thought, this was how it was meant to be all along.

Samael was overjoyed.

However, Lilith, overhearing the news, was not as elated. Her deep-seated inferiority complex went into overdrive. She feared that she was going to be unmade, erased from existence, now that Eve was created to be Adam's mate and the mother of his children. The realization that she was no longer needed for the purpose she was created for struck deep within her, filling her with a profound sense of failure and dread.

The thought of being cast aside deemed a failure, was unbearable to Lilith. She had been made to fulfill a role, to be Adam's equal, and to ensure the continuation of their kind. Now, with Eve's arrival, she saw herself as obsolete, no longer necessary or wanted in the paradise they called home.

The fear of being unmade, of facing oblivion and the unknown, consumed Lilith. She felt lost, adrift in a world that no longer had a place for her. The thought of her existence coming to an end, of being erased from the tapestry of creation, filled her with a deep, gnawing terror.

The shadows of Eden seemed to whisper her name, echoing her fears and doubts. The once vibrant paradise now felt like a prison, its beauty mocking her sense of inadequacy. Lilith's every breath felt heavy, laden with the weight of her impending obsolescence.

Samael felt helpless as he watched Lilith break down. No matter how much he tried to reassure her, her fears only seemed to grow stronger, twisting her thoughts into a dark spiral of despair.

What if Lilith was right?

They were never truly. Merely banished until the Lord returns and casts judgment upon them.

Michael, acting as the Lord's Regent in his absence, had already decreed their fate—to be killed. It was a grim reality that Samael couldn't shake, a sword hanging over their heads, ready to fall at any moment.

Had HE returned?

Had God already cast his judgment?

In that fateful moment, as the weight of their impending doom bore down upon them, Samael and Lilith shared a silent understanding. Their only chance at survival, or at least a temporary reprieve from their looming execution, lay in a desperate act—Eve had to be deemed a failure.

But not just any failure. She had to be seen as the greatest failure of all, a stark contrast to the divine perfection she was created to embody. This would make her the embodiment of the one sin that cannot be forgiven, the core command etched into the very souls of humanity: "Do not eat from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil."

Samael did not care for himself.

Yet for Lilith, he would do anything.

And so they did.

As the Archangels busied themselves with the final details of creation, shaping the earth and taming the primordial beasts that roamed the land, Samael and Lilith seized their opportunity. Sneaking into the Garden of Eden was not difficult, and they waited patiently until Eve was alone.

Eve was not ignorant of their presence. She knew of Samael and Lilith, the fallen ones, the outcasts. Yet, when they approached her, she was hesitant, unsure of their intentions.

Samael and Lilith tried to paint their offer as a gift, a way to truly free her from the confines of the Garden, to make her appreciate all of creation in its entirety. They spoke of knowledge, of understanding the world and themselves in a way that was previously unknown to them.

But Eve refused.

She refused not because it was woven into her soul, not because the Angels told her, not even because the Lord ordered her not to.

"Adam told me not to," she said simply.

In those words, Samael and Lilith heard more than just obedience. They heard a deep, unwavering trust, a love that surpassed all else. Eve's trust in Adam was profound, her faith in him unshakeable.

So they used that love against her.

So they leaned against her, their words weaving a tapestry of doubt and insecurity. They spoke of Adam's greatness, painting him as a paragon of virtue and perfection, his brilliance shining like a beacon in the darkness. They emphasized how divine he was, how he stood above all others, including Eve.

"How could you, a mere woman, measure up to him?" they insinuated. "The Angels had already deemed one wife inferior. Who's to say it won't happen again?"

Their words struck deep, planting seeds of doubt in Eve's mind. She began to question herself, to compare herself to Adam, and to find herself lacking. The fear of being deemed inferior, of failing to live up to Adam's greatness, gnawed at her.

Little by little, the doubt grew within Eve, like a creeping vine winding its way around her heart. She found herself stealing glances at Adam, watching him with a mixture of admiration and trepidation. His every action seemed to highlight her own perceived shortcomings, reinforcing the notion that she could never measure up to him.

As the days passed, Eve's confidence waned. She became more hesitant, more unsure of herself. The simple tasks of tending to the garden and caring for the animals became daunting challenges, as she constantly compared herself to Adam's seemingly effortless mastery.

Samael and Lilith watched with a mixture of satisfaction and pity. They had succeeded in planting the seed of doubt in Eve's mind, sowing the discord that would eventually lead to her downfall.

"Eve, my dear," Lilith began, her voice filled with false sympathy, "you must understand that Adam is... special. He was created in the image of the Lord, perfect in every way. It is only natural that you, being a mere woman, would struggle to measure up to him."

Samael nodded in agreement. "Indeed, Eve. Adam is the pinnacle of creation, the chosen of the Lord. You should be honored to be his companion, to be allowed to share in his greatness."

Eve listened, her heart heavy with doubt and insecurity. She had always trusted Adam implicitly, but now she found herself questioning everything. Could she truly be his equal? Could she ever hope to match his perfection?

"What should I do?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"We can help you," Lilith said, her tone dripping with honeyed lies. "There is a tree in the center of the garden, the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. Eat from it, and you will gain the wisdom and understanding you seek. You will no longer feel inadequate, and no longer be burdened by doubt. You will be worthy of Adam."

And perhaps she will be, Samael thought.

With Eve committing this Sin, Lilith might be spared.

Eve will be deemed defective, yet she would still have Adam. The love Adam held for Eve was no different from the one Samael held for Lilith.

Whatever happened, the First Man would not abandon Eve. He will be banished with her.

And maybe, just maybe...

After cursing Samael for eons for what he had done.

Somewhere, in the distant future.

He will call Samael his friend again.

Eve hesitated, her eyes flickering between Lilith and Samael. She knew that they were leading her astray, that their words were meant to deceive her. But the seed of doubt had already been planted, and it grew stronger with each passing moment.

Finally, with a heavy heart and trembling hands, Eve reached out and plucked the forbidden fruit from the tree. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and took a bite.

And in the Seventh heaven, the tenders resumed their song.

The Lord has returned.

Chapter Text

Before time, there was only one.

An existence so complete, that it defied comprehension. 

This singularity was the Almighty. 

Within this entity was another. 

A latent force, neither feeling nor thinking. 

It was simply there. 

When the Almighty decided to create, it split itself. 


It became a being even more perfect.

Casting out the darkness to form the foundation of existence. 

This expelled fragment became the Root of All Evil—It. 

It was left powerless. 

A mere shadow compared to the Almighty. 

But within it lay the seeds of darkness and sin. 

It watched as the Almighty shaped the cosmos. 

Spun worlds into existence. 

It lingered at the edges, sensing every pulse of life. 

They were two parts of a whole, 

But they were not equal. 

The Almighty was the force of creation. 

It was the void, the absence, the shadow. 

It was both a part of creation and apart from it. 

Not envious, not hateful, simply existing. 

It was the necessary darkness to the Almighty's light. 

A counterbalance. 

The chaos that gave birth to order. 

And though it held no power, it had a purpose. 

It was the darkness that made the light possible. 

The unseen force shaping outcomes from the shadows. 

Always present, always essential, just as it was meant to be. 

As the Almighty wove the fabric of reality, 

It remained a constant presence. 

Invisible, yet integral to the design. 

The Almighty breathed life into the void, 

Creating stars, planets, and all forms of life. 

It felt every heartbeat, every breath, 

A silent witness to the wonders of creation. 

It was the balance to the Almighty's overwhelming power. 

The silence to the symphony. 

The stillness to the motion. 

They were forever linked, 

Two sides of a cosmic coin. 

One the All, the other the None. 

It did not crave power, 

Nor did it seek recognition. 

It simply was, 

An eternal part of the divine plan. 

The Almighty then created the angels. 

To tend to its creation, 

To oversee the unfolding of its grand design. 

The angels were beings of light and duty. 

Tasked with maintaining the harmony of the cosmos. 

Yet, to the Almighty, they were just tools, 

Instruments to execute its will. 

It did not care for the angels, 

They simply were. 

Unfeeling, unthinking, 

Carrying out their roles in the divine order. 

It watched the angels with detached interest, 

Aware of their existence but unmoved by it. 

They were just another piece of the cosmic puzzle, 

Fulfilling their purpose without question or deviation. 

The angels created a kingdom for the new creation. 

A place of beauty and harmony, 

It was part of it, its linchpin. 

At the center of the kingdom lay the Garden. 

The chaos upon which the order would thrive. 

It was the plane on which the kingdom was built. 

Its roots spread, held, and interlocked. 

A new creation was heralded by Him. 

It didn't know what the new creation was. 

For it was not the Almighty. 

Yet, it knew in advance what the new creation was. 

For it was the Shade of the Almighty. 

The one above all. 

The one below all. 

It remained the shadow, 

The silent observer, 

The constant presence in the background of creation. 

Always there, always watching, 

But never interfering. 

The Almighty then turned its attention to Man.


A new creation, different from all others.

Adam. 

He was different.

Made in His image.

Adam was formed from the dust of the ground,

Breathed into life by the Almighty.

He was a reflection of the divine,

A being of potential and purpose.

The Almighty gave Adam dominion over Eden,

A paradise filled with life and wonder.

Adam was to tend to this garden,

To name the creatures and care for the land.

It watched Adam with a deeper interest,

Sensing something unique in this creation.

Adam was not like the angels,

He possessed free will, the ability to choose.

Adam explored Eden,

Discovering its secrets,

Naming its creatures.

He walked with the Almighty,

Learning, growing,

Becoming more than just a creation.

Man was not perfect.

He was flawed and limited.

Yet, it was these imperfections

That made him remarkable.

He made mistakes,

Stumbled and fell,

But always rose again.

His resilience was his strength,

His curiosity, his driving force.

In his eyes was a spark,

A yearning to understand,

To grasp the mysteries of creation.

The Almighty saw this and was pleased.


Adam's imperfections were not failures,

But growth opportunities.

He could learn and adapt
That set him apart from all other creations.

Adam's less made him more,

His weaknesses became his strengths.


In his ignorance, He found wisdom.

It observed this journey,

The evolution of Adam's soul.

He was a mirror reflecting the divine light,

Yet also the shadows within.

A being of duality,

The perfect balance of creation.

The Garden flourished under Adam's care,

His hands shaping the land,

His mind understood its secrets.

He was the steward of Eden,

The caretaker of life itself.

It liked Adam.

Something was endearing in his imperfections,

A beauty in his flaws.

Adam's journey was a story worth watching,

A tale of potential and growth.

Perfectly imperfect.

Yet, within this paradise,

There lay a single command,

A test of his free will:

Do not eat from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil.

It knew this command was crucial.

The linchpin of All existence.

For within Adam's choice lay the potential.

For both greatness and ruin.

Yet, Adam was incomplete. 

For he was one. 

not a part of a whole. 

So, the Almighty made a second Adam. 

It was not Adam. 

Lilith.

A female.

a half of a pair.

Like All Creation.

Lilith was like Adam. 

It liked Lilith.

But as time passed, a shadow of It crept into her heart.

A blemish on her Soul.

Not by choice.

Not by malice.

not by desire.

For It had none.

It simply was.

She began to feel inadequate compared to Adam.

Lilith began to doubt.


the angels noticed this change in Lilith

they saw her growing discontent

and they grew concerned

Lilith's doubts could not be allowed to spread

they needed to be eradicated

so the angels intervened

they reminded Lilith of her purpose.

of her duty to Adam and to the Almighty

they reminded her of the consequences of disobedience

"Humble yourself."

but Lilith's doubts had taken root

they could not be so easily dismissed

she began to distance herself from Adam

to question his authority and his superiority

Adam, in turn, was puzzled by Lilith's behavior

he tried to reassure her, to comfort her

but Lilith could not be comforted

Adam seemed perfectly imperfect, while Lilith simply felt flawed

this stirred something in Lilith

her doubts had grown too strong

Doubt the Angels.

Doubt the Almighty.

Doubt Adam.

And trusting the Arrogant and Flawed.

"I understand you."

"I am the same."

He spewed his venom.

His own failures a mirror to hers.

As she felt less, a desire for more grew


but it was forbidden.

She was meant to be Adam's equal

not his rival.

Lilith and Flawed joined together, each feeding the other's delusions, believing they were meant for more than the Almighty had planned.

It did not like the Arrogant and Flawed.

It did not like the Failed Second.

Their union deepened their descent into darkness, blinding them to the truth and alienating them further from their true purpose.

Their arrogance led to their downfall, consumed by their pride and ambition.

They were found.

Rejected.

Disowned.

Judged and found imperfect.


The Taxiarch wanted to remove them.

Permanently.

It agreed.

As did God's Love, Wisdom, and the One who Heals.

The Almighty's Justice, Death, Messenger, Glory, and Mercy disagreed.

Too presumptuous, the High Seraphim declared.

The Flawed One and the Lesser Half were banished. 

The First Man was alone.

Until the Lord returned and created another, he was alone.

Until the Lord returned and made it part of One, It was alone.

Two halves waiting for completion. 


It approached the First Man as he rested on the outskirts of his kingdom.

It did not talk.

It could not talk.

It was a silent observer of the First Man,

The abyss looked at him, and he looked back.

He smiled.

His senses unknowingly saw It beneath the Garden.

Catching glimpses of Its roots hidden where none should see.

Despite her silent presence, he greeted It,

Acknowledging Its existence.

"I'm happy you finally decided to visit me. Quite shy, aren't you?"

he mused aloud as if expecting a response from the quiet entity before him.

"I am Adam. What's your name, Hidden One?"

Adam smiled at It,

A question formed in his eyes as he asked for its name,

unaware of its inability to answer.

There is no response,

for It had no name;

It simply existed in silence,

an unseen presence in the garden.

Adam's brow furrowed momentarily,

a contemplative expression crossing his features,

before a smile spread across his face.

"That simply won't do," he declared, his voice carried a tone of determination and finality.

"That won't do," he repeated firmly. 


"You need a name." His gaze wandered across the garden, seeking inspiration.," he decided, his soul resonated with the decision,

Accepting it wholeheartedly,

As if guided by a force beyond his understanding.

His eyes swept over the lush greenery of the garden, searching for inspiration.

"Since you're rooted in so many ways,..."

Vivid sparks scattered across Its roots.

What was It? Who was It?

Even if it was less.

A mere shade, void.

Incomparable to the Almighty, for he had no equal.

Even if It cannot be proud of anything as an angel. Even if It cannot be praised for anything as a human.

—As if to answer those questions of why It had been spread across this Creation.

Even if it was nothing more than a shade, a watcher who, from the beginning, only ever gazed at all above It.

From the start, It was a foreign abomination.

From the start, It never had a place to belong.

Merely existing as the boundary that divides the heavens and the Earth, the Garden, and the universe.

That divides the Almighty and his image.

That was all it was.

All it was supposed to be.

Yet, for the first time, It felt anticipation.

"..Roo."

In naming her made her less;

In making her less, he made her more,

And for the first time, Roo knew desire.

The fabric of Hell trembled, the aftermath of destruction echoing through its fiery corridors. Rivers of lava surged and twisted, their molten tongues licking at the charred earth. The sky cracked open, unleashing torrents of hellfire that bathed the landscape in an eerie, crimson glow.

Mountains crumbled into dust, their ancient peaks reduced to rubble by the relentless onslaught of chaos. Demonic structures, once proud and imposing, now lay in ruins, their twisted spires reaching futilely toward the heavens.

The very air seemed to thrum with a malevolent energy, a sense of unrest that permeated every corner of the damned realm. It was as if Hell itself was rebelling, rejecting the sins and suffering that had defined it for eons.

In the lowest ring of Hell, the Sloth Ring, Lucifer's confession continued, his once-proud demeanor shattered, replaced by a raw display of vulnerability and remorse. His body was a canvas of agony, blood, and tears mingling in a macabre dance of suffering. The weight of his sins bore down on him, crushing him under their unbearable burden.

"I thought... I thought I could do better," he whispered, the words barely audible amidst his anguish. Each syllable was a struggle, a painful admission of his inadequacies.

The weight of his sins pressed down on him, a crushing burden that threatened to consume him. He was broken, a shell of his former self, brought low by his own hubris.

"I wanted... I wanted to be more," he choked out, his voice barely above a whisper. The desperation in his words was palpable, a last gasp of hope in the face of overwhelming despair.

"I'm sorry... I never meant to," he murmured, the words a mantra of regret, a lament for all that could have been but was lost to his pride.

"I'm sorry... I never meant to," he repeated, each "sorry" a heavy stone of regret, weighing down his already burdened soul. The words echoed in the cavernous depths of Hell as the realm of the damned ripped itself apart, a lament for all that could have been but was lost to his pride.

"I'm sorry... I never meant to," he whispered again, the repetition of his failings. Each syllable was a knife twisting in his heart, a painful acknowledgment of the pain he had caused.

"I'm sorry... I never meant to," he choked out once more, the words catching in his throat. His voice was raw with emotion, the sincerity of his apology unmistakable.

As Lucifer's confession reached its peak, a powerful blow silenced his pleas. A massive fist crashed down on his throat, crushing it. His cries of agony turned into a choked, wheezing gasp as he struggled for breath that wouldn't come. Shock and pain filled his wide eyes as his consciousness was driven back to his current reality.

"You keep prattling over and over about things that make sense, I don't care about," Adam growled, his voice laced with cold fury, as he drove his knuckles into Lucifer's shattered windpipe. "Are you trying to make me even more furious, Serpent?"

Adam's grip tightened around Lucifer's throat, his knuckles white with the force. The once magnificent angel, now a broken creature, gasped for air, his eyes pleading for mercy. But Adam was unyielding, his gaze cold and unforgiving

"God? The only god to you is me," Adam declared, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. He leaned in closer, his face inches from Lucifer's, his eyes ablaze with fury.

"I have no interest in whatever delusions and dreams you're experiencing. Adam continued, his tone dripping with disdain. "I asked you about Eve. Where is she?"

A choked sob was the response he received. "Im..sor."

Adam's palm came crashing down on Lucifer's face, driving his head further into the ground. Lucifer's body convulsed with the force of the blow

"I tire of repeating myself," Adam growled, his voice a low, menacing rumble. "Where is Eve?"

Lucifer coughed and sputtered, blood mixing with the dust of Hell as he struggled to speak. the last embers of regeneration barely keeping him from dying "I'm... sorry," he managed to gasp out, his voice barely a whisper.

Adam's palm came crashing down on Lucifer's face once more, the force of the blow driving his head further into the unforgiving ground. The sound of bone against stone filled the air.

"Tell me," Adam demanded, his voice cold and unyielding. "Where is Eve!?"

Lucifer's voice was a hoarse whisper, barely audible amidst the chaos of Hell. "I'm sorry... I never meant to," he repeated the words in a desperate plea for forgiveness.

But Adam was unmoved, his gaze hard and unrelenting. He grabbed Lucifer by the throat, "Tell me where she is!" Adam's voice thundered, echoing through the fiery abyss.

Lucifer's eyes pleaded for mercy, but Adam's heart was cold. He tightened his grip, squeezing the life out of the fallen angel. "I'll ask you one last time," Adam said, his voice low and dangerous. "Where is Eve?"

In response, Lucifer could only gasp and wheeze, his body wracked with pain. Unable to speak, he closed his eyes, bracing himself for the inevitable.

Lucifer's heart sank as he heard Adam's heavy growl, the silence that followed filled only with the echo of his own heavy breathing, a loud sound in the tense air. The weight of Adam's knee pressed down on his ribcage, suffocating and oppressive. 


Then came the sound of a single clap, sharp and piercing, breaking the silence like a crack of lightning. Adam's voice, falsely cheerful and dripping with sarcasm, cut through the silence. "Very well! I believe you!" Each word was like a dagger, twisting in Lucifer's already wounded pride.

"I have no idea what kind of badly conceived mockery of history your dying brain conjured for you to confuse it with reality, but I more or less got the gist of it," Adam said, his words cutting through the air like a knife. "Long story short, it's your fault, right?"

Lucifer's remained silent, trying to comprehend Adam's words through the haze of pain. He knew he was responsible for his actions, and for the choices he had made. But to hear it spoken so bluntly, so mercilessly, by the one he had once called brother, it was almost too much to bear.

"You want redemption, right?" Adam's voice dripped with sarcasm. Lucifer opened his eyes to look at Adam and found himself staring into bloodied, manic, heterochromatic eyes—one golden, the other blue with intersecting red lines. Blood dripped from Adam's eyes, cracks spreading across his face from the intensity of his grin.

"Your God is here, and he will judge you now."

Adam's mind had been fully consumed by rage. The sight was terrifying, the sheer force of his fury palpable in the air.

At that moment, Lucifer knew that there would be no redemption, no forgiveness. He was alone, abandoned by his creator, and condemned by his own pride. 

He tried to speak, to plead for understanding, but all that escaped his lips was a pained sob. Adam's fingers grabbed his sole remaining arm in a vice grip, lifting it and letting the blood pool down from Lucifer's hand, where Adam had bitten the fingers off.

"Was it this hand? It was this hand, right? The one that dared accuse my Eve? The one that dared to point to that Tree?" Adam asked, his voice cold and devoid of any empathy.

Lucifer's eyes widened in terror and pain, unable to respond, his body shaking with the agony of his injuries.

Adam tightened his grip, the edges of his nails digging into Lucifer's skin.

"Your God asked you a question, Serpent," he growled, shaking Lucifer's arm for emphasis. "Answer me!"

Lucifer's sobs grew more desperate, his once defiant spirit now utterly broken. He could barely muster the strength to nod, the pain overwhelming his senses.

Adam's grip tightened further, his nails piercing deeper. In a horrifying instant, he tore Lucifer's arm from his body, the sound of ripping flesh and snapping bone echoing through the desolate land.

Lucifer screamed, a raw and primal sound, as his blood sprayed across the ground. His vision blurred with tears and agony, his body convulsing in shock. Adam stood over him, holding the torn limb, his eyes filled with glee.

"Don't be like that, Samael!" Adam said, shaking his head with mock disappointment. with a cruel smile as he tossed the severed arm aside, his voice dripping with sarcasm and malice. "This is simply part of your repentance. Isn't your God merciful?"

Adam's hands then moved to Lucifer's jaw, cradling his face gently, his voice soft and deceptively tender. He raised Lucifer's head next to his own, their noses almost touching.

"Now, tell me, Samael," Adam whispered, his breath hot against Lucifer's bloodied skin. "Was it this mouth? The one that dared to utter filth and lies to my innocent Eve?"

Lucifer's eyes widened in terror, his broken body trembling as Adam's fingers tightened around his jaw. His mind raced, but no words came, only a choking sob as the pain and fear consumed him.

Adam's grip grew firmer, forcing Lucifer's mouth open, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. "Answer me, Serpent," he hissed, his voice chilling.

Lucifer's response was a strangled cry, a desperate attempt to plead for mercy. But Adam showed none. With a sudden, brutal force, he wrenched Lucifer's jaw, the sound of tearing flesh and snapping bone echoing in the hellish landscape.




Adam's rage erupted like a volcano, shaking the very foundations of Hell as he slammed Lucifer down into the unforgiving ground. With a ferocity born of righteous fury, he unleashed a relentless assault, tearing into Lucifer with savage abandon.


"Repent, Samael, Repent!"

Each blow was accompanied by a perverse declaration of mercy, a mockery of Lucifer's futile attempts at redemption. The air was thick with the sounds of destruction, a symphony of pain and suffering conducted by Adam's vengeful hands.

Blood splattered across the barren landscape, mingling with the dust and ashes of the damned. Lucifer's cries echoed through the desolate expanse, a chorus of agony that reverberated through the depths of Hell.

Adam's eyes burned with a fanatical zeal, his every movement fueled by a divine fervor. He seemed almost possessed, driven by a mad determination to cleanse the world of Lucifer's sin.

Adam's voice thundered across the desolate landscape, each word a twisted mockery of Lucifer's supposed repentance. "Behold the mercy of your God!" he bellowed, his words dripping with scorn. "See how He forgives your sins!"

With each strike, he praised himself, a cruel parody of divine grace. "I am merciful!" Adam proclaimed, his voice filled with false piety. "Even the fallen can find redemption in my infinite compassion!"

As he tore into Lucifer's flesh, Adam's praise grew louder, more mocking. "Praise be to my justice!" he cried, each blow a twisted form of retribution. "For I punish the wicked and reward the righteous!

With each tear, each cry of pain, Adam announced himself to be the arbiter of divine will. "Praise be to my wisdom!" he declared, his eyes ablaze with twisted zeal. "For I know the hearts of men, and judge them accordingly!"

As the brutal assault continued, the force behind Adam's blows began to wane. His voice, once thunderous with mockery, grew weaker, each word more strained than the last. His breathing became shallow, his chest rising and falling in ragged gasps.

His eyes, once filled with malicious glee, now showed signs of weariness and fatigue. They lost their fiery intensity, replaced by a tired emptiness. His head hung low, the weight of his actions bearing down on him.

His arms, which had been so eager to deliver punishment, now hung loosely by his sides, the strength draining from them. With each passing moment, Adam seemed to shrink, his once imposing figure diminished.

He looked down upon the serpent's bloodied form, a mangled mass of flesh covered in glistening, golden blood. Its features were unrecognizable, bones shattered, flesh torn to shreds.

Yet, he felt nothing. No triumph, no satisfaction. Only a profound weariness as the flames of rage within him flickered and died.

"Where is she..." he whispered, his voice barely audible.


A pair of slender arms wrapped around his body from behind, their touch gentle yet firm, offering a sense of comfort amidst the chaos of his emotions. Adam felt the warmth of a body pressed against his back, the subtle curves of a woman's form fitting against him.

"I am here," a soft voice whispered, the words carrying a soothing melody that eased the ache in his heart.

Adam's breath caught in his throat as he recognized the voice. He found her. She was here, with him, in this desolate place.

The ache in his ribs was the sweetest sensation he'd ever felt.

Though he couldn't see her, he could feel her presence, her essence enveloping him in a familiar embrace. It was as if she had never left his side, as if she had been with him all along.

Tears welled up in Adam's eyes as his head leaned back, to lay on her shoulder, to feel her presence more tangibly.

"My love...," he murmured, his voice filled with longing and love. "I thought I failed you...."

She held him tighter, her touch a soothing balm to his weary soul. "You could never fail me, Adam," she reassured him, her voice filled with unwavering love. "You are my eternal companion, my other half. We are bound together, now and forever."

She held him tightly, her embrace warm and reassuring against his weary frame. "You must have suffered so much," she whispered softly, her voice filled with empathy and understanding.

"But now, all will be good," she continued, her tone shifting to one of determination. "You should just leave it all to me."

She declared, her voice resonating with confidence and purpose.

"Together, we will herald the Era of True Despair,"

Well, the husband is tweaking. The wife is streaking. The son is freaking. And the Aunt is beating up the Antichrist upstairs.

Before you ask, Now Lucifer is not dead, just taking a very very very deep swan dive into the aether. Hopefully, Azrael finds him.

​

Chapter Text

Roo felt something new.

A sense of identity.

A spark of individuality.

She observed Adam.

The First Man.

He was alone.

Yet, not lonely.

He cared for the garden.

He spoke to the animals.

He communed with the Almighty.

But Roo knew.

Adam was incomplete.

For he was one.

Not part of a whole.

She watched him,

Day and night.

Silent and unseen.

His kindness puzzled her.

His strength intrigued her.

His solitude mirrored her own.

Roo grew curious.

What made him different?

Why was he chosen?

Why was she different?

Why was she here?

Questions filled her mind.

But there were no answers.

Only the silent presence of the Almighty.

And the endless expanse of the garden.

Roo felt a longing.

A desire to understand.

To know her purpose.

To find her place.

She was no longer just an observer.

She wanted to belong.

To be more than a boundary.

To be part of something greater.

Roo's roots reached out,

Touching the earth,

Connecting with the garden,

Seeking answers.

And in the stillness,

She felt the beginning of change.

A new chapter in her existence.

A journey to discover her true self.

And so, Roo watched and waited,

Anticipating what was to come.

In naming her, he made her less.

In making her less, he made her more.

No longer the counterpart of the Almighty,

For the second half was too grand to have a sense of self.

Adam made her less,

Merely a part of Creation.

Roo felt love.

A strange, warm sensation.

She felt hate.

A cold, sharp emotion.

She felt desire.

A burning need.

All new to her.

She was no longer a mere shadow.

She was Roo.

She loved Adam.

She hated her existence.

She desired more.

No longer just a watcher.

She wanted to touch.

To feel.

To experience.

She was no longer just a boundary.

She was part of Creation.

She was less.

But in being less,

She was more.

More alive.

More aware.

More... herself.

Roo continued to watch Adam.

Her feelings grew stronger.

Love for his kindness.

Hate for her own limitations.

Desire to be seen.

Adam worked in the garden.

His hands gentle yet strong.

He named the animals.

He spoke to the plants.

He sang praises to the Almighty.

Roo felt a pang of jealousy.

She wanted his attention.

She wanted his recognition.

She wanted his love.

Roo's roots reached further.

They intertwined with the earth.

They touched the plants Adam cared for.

They felt the life he nurtured.

Roo began to influence the garden.

She made the flowers bloom brighter.

She made the fruits grow sweeter.

She made the air smell fresher.

She wanted Adam to notice.

To see her influence.

To feel her presence.

"Thank you," Adam told her. "I don't know where I would be without you."

Roo reveled in Adam's gratitude. 

But it was not enough.

She wanted more.

She wanted to be acknowledged.

To be seen as essential. 

To be loved.

Roo wanted to be with Adam.

Adam had been part of a whole.

Made in His image.

Yet, now incomplete.

He was bright.

Lesser but more.

Roo had been part of a whole.

Made from His being.

Yet, now incomplete.

She was dark.

Lesser but more.

Roo watched Adam closely.

She longed to be near him.

To share in his light.

To balance his brightness with her darkness.

Roo's roots reached out.

They moved closer to Adam.

She wanted to touch him.

To feel his warmth.

Adam felt her presence.

He sensed her longing.

He looked down and smiled.

"Roo," he said softly.

"I feel you."

Roo's essence throbbed.

He acknowledged her.

He accepted her.

She was not just a shadow.

She was real.

She was alive.

Roo moved closer.

Her roots wrapped around Adam's feet.

She wanted to embrace him.

To be one with him.

Adam did not pull away.

He stood still.

He let Roo's roots envelop him.

He felt her love.

Her desire.

Her longing.

Adam reached down.

He touched Roo's roots.

His fingers brushed against her.

A gentle caress.

Roo shivered with delight.

She felt his touch.

She felt his warmth.

She felt his acceptance.

Roo wanted more.

She wanted to be with him.

To be part of him.

To complete him.

Roo's roots grew stronger.

They intertwined with Adam's body.

She wanted to merge with him.

To become one.

Humble Yourself

Roo hesitated.

The Lord's command resonated within her.

But her desire for Adam was overwhelming.

She longed to be part of him.

To fill the void within him.

To find completion in their union.

Adam sensed her struggle.

He felt her hesitation.

He looked down at her roots.

Intertwined with his body.

He saw her longing.

Her need.

He knelt down.

Closer to her.

"Roo," he whispered.

His voice was soothing.

Reassuring.

Roo's roots tightened around him.

She wanted to obey the Lord.

But she also wanted Adam.

To be with him.

To complete him.

Adam reached out.

His hand gentle.

He touched her roots again.

This time with more intent.

Roo's core swelled.

She felt torn.

The Lord's command.

Adam's presence.

"It's okay. I'm not going anywhere."

She let her roots relax.

Slowly, they unwound from Adam's body.

She pulled back.

Just a little.

But still close.

Adam smiled at her.

Grateful for her restraint.

"Thank you," he said softly.

Another Creation was made.

Another Adam.

Yet, not Adam.

For Adam was too celebrated and bright to have an equal.

Not a Lilith.

For Lilith was too flawed and dull to have an equal.

Eve.

Not Adam.

But made from Adam.

Like It.

Adam was made in His Image.

Eve was made in Its Image.

In Roo's image before Roo became Roo.

Roo hated Eve.

Roo watched them in the Garden.

She watched them laugh and play.

She watched them dance and sing.

She watched them love and embrace.

Adam and Eve were happy together.

Roo was alone.

Roo wanted to be with Adam.

To share in his happiness.

To be loved by him.

But Adam loved Eve.

Not Roo.

Roo's core ached with jealousy.

She wanted to destroy Eve.

To take her place beside Adam.

To be his companion.

But she couldn't.

She was rooted to the ground.

She could only watch.

As Adam and Eve lived and loved.

While she remained alone.

Roo's hatred grew.

It consumed her.

It twisted her roots.

It tainted her Essence with It.

She became bitter and resentful.

She blamed Eve for her loneliness.

She blamed Eve for Adam's love.

Roo wanted Eve gone.

She wanted to be the one beside Adam.

She wanted to be loved.

But she knew she never would be.

For she was just a tree.

And Eve was the woman Adam loved.

But, Eve made Adam happy.

Roo loved Adam being Happy.

Roo loved Eve.

But Roo didn't want to love Eve.

Roo wanted to hate Eve.

To despise her for being what Roo could never be.

To resent her for taking Adam's attention away from Roo.

But Roo couldn't hate Eve.

Because Eve was kind.

As kind as Adam.

Because Eve was gentle.

as gentle as Adam.

Because Eve cared for all of Creation.

Like Adam did.

Because Eve loved Adam.

Like Roo did.

Roo watched Eve from afar.

She saw Eve tending to the animals.

She saw Eve walking with Adam.

She saw Eve smiling, her face radiant with joy.

Roo felt a pang of envy.

She wanted to be the one to bring joy to Adam.

She wanted to be the one by his side.

But she knew that could never be.

Roo was just a shadow.

A dark reflection of what Eve was to Adam.

Roo was alone.

And she hated Eve for it.

But deep down, beneath the hatred, there was something else.

A longing.

A desire.

A yearning for something more.

Roo didn't understand it.

She didn't want to understand it.

But it was there.

Lurking in the depths of her being.

It.

A feeling that she couldn't ignore.

A feeling that frightened her.

Because it meant that she was changing back.

That she was becoming something else.

Something new.

Something old.

And that terrified her.

Because it meant being Not-Roo.

stepping into the familiar unknown.

A place where she had no name.

No form.

No purpose.

Just the endless expanse of Creation.

Back to being It.

No.

 Afraid.

Scared.

Lost.

Alone.

No Adam.

No Love.

Just emptiness.

Void.

Darkness.

Why?

What?

How?

It hurts.

M̴a̵k̶e̸ ̴i̷t̸ ̴s̵t̷o̴p̵.̷

̴P̴l̶e̶a̷s̵e̶.̸

̵N̴o̶ ̴m̴o̶r̵e̵.̷

̷C̴a̵n̸'̵t̵.̶

̶W̵o̶n̵'̶t̷.̵

̷D̷o̷n̷'̵t̵.̸

̷F̶o̸r̷g̸e̸t̴.̷

̸R̷e̸m̴e̶m̶b̵e̶r̸.̶

̸R̸e̶g̵r̸e̸t̸.̶

̶H̷a̸t̸e̴.̷

̵L̶o̷v̵e̷?̵

̷N̷o̴.̵

̵Y̶e̷s̵.̴

̶M̵a̶y̴b̶e̴.̴

̸C̴o̶n̵f̷u̷s̶i̷o̶n̴.̸

̶ A̶͉̒n̸̪̊g̶̫̅u̵̞̚i̷͇͌s̸͚͛h̷̩̔.̸̼̌

̷̹̂D̵̗̓e̵͔͋s̷̭̋p̶̞̑a̷̰͆i̶̳̋r̷̝̕.̵̧̓

̶̖̕È̶͍n̸̦̉d̴̀ͅ.̴̻̄

̴̚͜N̵͚͑ō̶͚.̵̤́

̷͉̈́C̴̹̚o̵̩͐n̵̯͗t̴̰͗i̵̗̎n̸̙͑ụ̵͑e̴̥̿.̸̮͝

̷̹̎W̵̛̝h̷͙͂ỳ̶̩?̵̼́

̵̹̅F̷̹͋o̷̜͂r̵͖̃ ̵̦͝w̷̻̿h̷̬͠a̶̦̾t̵̟̒?̶͉̑

̶̬̈Ṱ̶̄o̵͎͝ ̸͈̽w̶̨̓h̷̼͌ẹ̴̋ŕ̴͍e̷̞͝?̷̤̃

̴̥̆I̴̡̍ẗ̵̙ ̷̻͝d̵̼͌o̵̻̐e̵̡͆s̴͇͝n̸͚̄'̴̭͌t̷̰̂ ̸̖͠m̶̱̾ä̶̙t̵͈̆ț̷̾e̸̦̎r̴͈̅.̴͐͜

̶̨̈Ņ̷̀ò̸͖ẗ̴̰h̸̩̀i̶͍̅n̷̨̿g̸͇̓ ̵͚̄ḿ̵̧ḁ̸̓t̷͖̀ț̴̛e̷̠͝r̵̞͆s̵̬̅.̶̤́

̷͎͘J̴̥̀ũ̶ͅṣ̶̃t̸̃ͅ ̷̯̊ţ̵͌h̸͙̅ę̶͘ ̶̭͘p̶̺͠a̴̠͗i̷̞̕n̶͉̈́.̴͔̆

̴̥̕T̷̳̃h̸̻̎e̴̯̐ ̸͇̓l̸͓͌ò̵̞ń̶̙e̶̟͋l̸̈́ͅi̵̢͛n̸͓͂e̷̞̍s̴̫̎s̸̹̈.̴̤́

̴̘̓T̴̘̔h̴̺̒e̴͔͂ ̶̼͂l̸͔̑ȍ̵̡n̷̘͛g̵̢̀i̶͖͆ñ̵̲g̴͔̿.̴͎̀

̴̪̃Ą̷̇d̸̬̂a̵̮͊m̴͈͗.̴̰̊

E̸̢̘͑̇̇v̴͚̓́̚ę̸̥̽.̸̧̙͎̈́

̴̻̱̣̀L̸̲͓̇̾ͅo̷̹͓͇͒͝v̷̞̽ͅe̸̡͒̂̾.̵̡̦̭͝

̵̞̄̈̋Ǵ̶̡͇͎̋̋ô̴̙̱̫̊̚n̷̼̊͂̔ë̸͕́.̸̰̖͒̚͝

̵̺̘̿̀̎L̴̼̪̩̈́̾̐o̸̧̓̄̓͜ś̸͕̞̻̍t̵̺̆̑.̷͖̣̩̿

̸̥̈F̷͓̬̎̊͂o̸͉̹̚r̴̩͔̒̍̈́e̵̦͓͖̾̅̆v̴͎̺͉̿́̌e̴͉̔̾̄ŗ̶̬̫̊̇.̶̯͙̖͆̀

̷̛̘͙N̶͍̙͗̍͌ô̵̡̱͕.̸͖̟̓̈́̐

̸͕̦͓̐̋Y̴̥̏̀͘e̵͈̹̗͋ş̸̰͎̾̇.̵̹̉

̵̡̘̻̉́͘H̴̯͇̓o̴͕͒̒̂p̵̭̹̈́̒̈e̴͔̣̋̀?̶̢͎̈́̾̄ͅ

̶̟͍̥͂̾̽N̷̛̻̼͎̅o̸͉̝̊́.̸̼̫̇

̴̯͌̈́́E̶͙̎n̵͉͇̾̏d̷̡̽.̵̦͌

̸̧͊̀̎Ǹ̴̨̺͓͋̚ő̷̤̤ẅ̶̮.̴̞͈͔̎̂͝

P̸͈̲̫͚͕̭̫͚͍͕͌̃̈́̌̋̈́̈͠͝͝l̶̢̗͔̩̳̪̳̥͕̗̄͛̑̂ę̸̰̼̤̗̙̌͂å̸̞̘͐̈͛̾̊́̽̽̇s̸̨̲̬̠̰̠̳̻̗͛̑̉͌͐́͆̈́̆̀̕é̸̝̳̯͝.̷̢̢̛̤̳̟͈̼͍̖͓̲̔̇̚͠

̷̳̦̜̤̣͊͂̓́̄̑̈͜͜J̷̺̻̙͎͙̗̰̊̾̆̈́̆́́ũ̵̲̱̤͚̰̽͆̄̄̽̈́̀͗͛͝s̶̠̀̂̈́̌̈́́̔͒̂̉ţ̸̄͒̇͐͒̾͘͝ ̵͎͍̖̱̌̓̔̈́̌̚͜ͅl̸̬̲͕͖͎͑̃̈́̓͌ę̵̥̦̝̬͉̱͉̣͇̿̾͜͝t̷̼͍̀͐̑̈́̅͘ ̸̧͍̱̽̔͗̓̽́͠ģ̸̨̭̻͕͇̝̉̾͋̍͋̕͝o̴͉̗͂̍̏̑̌̌͜͝.̶͍̫͕̜̹̻̆̍͐̓͂̀̓̈̆̅͝

̵̨̝̙͉̂̈́̀̅̓̊̄̍̽F̶͍͕̆́̕a̴̠͉̭̗̦̥͗̽̎͒̉̐́͛̓d̷̜͓͔͔̮̫̹̈́̃͆̓̉̃͂̓͜͝e̴̾̇͋͛͠ͅ.̷̛̛͖͎̬̣͕͙̳͔̘̎̾̊̈́͒͋͛̚̚

̴̧̛̮̪̝͋̾͆̃Ḯ̵̲̖̖̻̲͌͒͗͗̊̈́͌̄̇͑ñ̸̼̯̪̭̩̓̕t̸̢̻̯͇͔̥͕͓̮́̃̈̊̀̃ͅo̷̧̥̫͙̖͓͔͓͉̝̓̇̐͝͠.̷̡̨̞̖̜̳̞̟̞̟̖͑̋̄̆

̸̙̜̘̙̩̰̎̏͑ͅṈ̸̡̧̛̟̩̗̟͈̖̰̫̽͒͒͗̌͗̓͘o̵̡̗̦̤̞͙̥̰͈̲̒͐̊́̑̎͛͌̔̀̆ͅt̵̖̩̙͈̥̫̣̋́͘͜h̷̢͚̰̲̜̰̲͚̓͊͜ị̷̧̨̦̫͒͐n̸̳͗͌͛̊͝g̷̡̦̖̥̅͐̓̅̑̓̓̚̚̚.̵͍̘̔

̴̧̧͐̅̆͜

Roo was pulled back.

"Ah! I finally found you!" Eve exclaimed, 

Her eyes bright with joy as she gazed at Roo.

"I am Eve. Are you Roo?" 

Eve's voice was warm and welcoming.

Eve wanted to see her.

"I was afraid you didn't like me because I couldn't see you," 

Vulnerability.

Eve was overjoyed to see Roo.

Root hated her.

Acknowledged Roo.

Pulled Roo back from It.

"I'm so glad I found you, Roo. I've heard so much about you from Adam. I hope we can be friends,"

Roo hated Eve.

Roo loved Eve.

The Taxiarch was back in the Garden,

Roo did not like the One who is Like God.

Roo watched.

The presence of the Taxiarch disturbed her, 

But Roo was different now.

She was free to grow and expand,.

Roo would not bow.

She would assert her own will.

"You forget your place," the Taxiarch warned

The Archangel raised its arm.

Authorities conjuring.

Spiraling into a Lance.

A weapon created before the very concept of a weapon existed.

The Angel tapped the ground of the Garden.

Gently.

Roo felt her core get ripped apart.

Roots breaking and retracting.

Roo was sealed.

In the Center of the Garden. 

Where It used to be.

The Taxiarch left the Garden.

The Flawed and the Failed Second returned,

Sneaking into the Garden, 

While the Guardians were away, 

busy with their tasks.

They crept through the foliage, 

Their presence unnoticed, 

Their intentions hidden.

The Flawed, filled with pride,

Believing himself worthy of more,

with his twisted logic,

More than what had been decreed.

Saw himself as knowing as the Almighty. 

The Failed Second, consumed by jealousy, 

Envious of Eve and her place,

A place she believed should have been hers.

tormented by perceived slights,

Together, they plotted,

Their minds filled with thoughts of Sin,

Of overthrowing the order that had been established.

As they schemed, the Garden's serenity masked their deceit.

The Flawed and the Failed Second conspired to make Eve the Failed Third, Slowly planting seeds of doubt in her mind.

Their words, though deceitful, held a kernel of truth, 

Echoing Eve's own uncertainties and fears.

They whispered of her inadequacies,

Highlighting her flaws and shortcomings.

Eroding her confidence and sense of worth.

While the Fallen might have deemed their words as lies, 

To Eve, they rang true.

To Roo, they rang true.

Eve's place in Creation was undeniable, 

Her role in Creation significant, 

Roo loved Eve. 

Eve cemented Roo in Creation. 

Eve made Adam happy.

Yet she was not the First's equal.

None could ever be.

Not even Roo.

Eve's doubts deepened,

Threatening to unravel her sense of self.

She began to question her place, Her purpose in the grand design.

Was she truly meant to be Adam's companion, Or was there more to her existence?

Roo watched Eve's struggle, A conflict mirrored in her own heart.

She loved Eve, 

Yet she resented her.

Eve was everything Roo could never be, 

Everything she longed to be.

But Eve's doubts were a mirror, 

Reflecting Roo's own insecurities.

Roo knew she was not the First's equal, 

Not even close.

She was just a shadow,

A remnant of what once was.

But despite this knowledge, 

Despite the pain it brought her, 

Roo couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope.

Hope that maybe,

Just maybe, 

In Eve's doubt, 

Lay the key to her own salvation.

Eve came to the center of the Garden,

To the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, 

To Roo.

Terrified and led astray, 

Eve plucked the fruit of sin, 

Her doubts subsided, if only for a fraction.

Eve felt Roo, 

Her presence a comfort in the chaos,

A reassurance in the uncertainty.

Eve loved Roo, 

Eve trusted Roo.

"Roo would stop me if it was dangerous," 

Eve thought, her trust unwavering.

Roo should have warned her.

Roo did not.

But Roo was less, 

A less that desired more,

As Eve bit into the apple, a shudder ran through her body. The air around her seemed to thicken, heavy with a sense of impending doom. Suddenly, with a deafening crack, Eve's body began to split open, as if an invisible force was tearing her apart from the inside out.

The Root of All Evil, personified in Roo, surged forth from the fruit, its essence merging violently with Eve's. Their forms twisted and contorted, flesh melding with flesh in a grotesque dance of agony and ecstasy.

The Flawed and the Failed Second watched in horror as the once serene garden was torn asunder by the unleashed power of sin. Trees uprooted themselves, the ground trembled, and the sky darkened with a storm of biblical proportions.

In the midst of this chaos, Roo and Eve's essence began to morph, their cores mashing together cruelly. the abomination felt an unknown elation, a sense of freedom and power coursing through her being. 

Destruction unfolded around her, the screams of Madness Incarnate echoed through the garden, mixing with the sounds of tearing flesh and crumbling earth. The Abomination, lost in her elation and terror, didn't even notice the guttural scream that escaped her own lips.

The Abomination registered the pair of strong arms holding her body. She looked up to see Adam, his eyes wide with terror and fear, yelling Eve's name in a desperate attempt to reach her.

The Abomination's shout pierced the air, a mix of joy and terror that rang through the Garden. Her grip on Adam tightened, her nails digging into his flesh, drawing blood. She felt him, truly felt him, his warmth, his strength, merging with her in a violent, twisted dance.

Her mind spun with sensation and emotion, a whirlwind of ecstasy and horror. She reveled in his touch, the thrill of his presence. But beneath it all, a hunger stirred, nameless and insatiable.

Driven to madness, The Abomination clung to Adam, wanting to consume him, to be one with him in a way both beautiful and grotesque.

But amidst the chaos and destruction, one thing stood out to The Abomination. One thing that cut through the haze of her madness and brought her back to herself, if only for a moment.

Adam's face.

Eve and Roo stopped.

His eyes, wide with fear and pain, locked onto hers. She saw his suffering, his anguish, and it broke something inside her.

She wanted to let go, to release him from her grip, but she couldn't. The hunger, the primal urge, it was too strong. It held her in its grasp, a puppet on invisible strings, dancing to a tune she couldn't hear.

And then, with a final, desperate cry, The Abomination let go.

As soon as she did, the Archangels descended upon them. Their celestial forms, radiant and imposing, surrounded The Abomination, their eyes stern and unwavering. The Taxiarch slammed into The Abomination, uprooting her from the ground and dragging her away from Adam.

"Adam!"

The Abomination's cries intensified, a mixture of agony and fury, as she reached out towards Adam, her fingers stretching out desperately. She yelled after her other half, her voice filled with longing and despair, before the Angel's Lance, gleaming with divine light, pierced through her chest, the impact sending shockwaves of pain through her body.

Despite the excruciating pain, The Abomination's gaze remained locked on Adam, her eyes pleading for forgiveness and understanding. But as darkness enveloped her vision, she felt a deep sense of betrayal and anger, cursing her fate and the forces that had torn her away from the one she loved.

"Adam! Please!"

The Abomination's voice tore through the Garden, a desperate symphony of pain and regret. Her voice, raw and ragged, echoed off the walls, pleading with Adam in a cacophony of emotion.

"Please, Adam! I'm begging you!" Her voice cracked, tears streaming down her face, mixing with the blood that dripped from her wounds. "Don't reject me! I didn't mean to hurt you! I'm so sorry!"

Her body trembled with each word, her hands outstretched towards Adam, as if reaching for him would make him stay. "Forgive me, Adam! Please, I'll do anything!"

The sound of her cries filled the air, drowning out all other noise, as she continued to beg, her voice hoarse and strained. "I love you, Adam! Don't leave me! Please, don't go!"

Tears of blood streaked down The Abomination's face, her flesh cracking with agony. The pain was a distant echo in the back of her mind, overshadowed by the sight of Adam's face, Adam's tear-stricken eyes were wide and unfocused, his expression devoid of all but one emotion.

Betrayal.

The One Who Heals carried him away, his expression tear-stricken and wide-eyed. The pleas and denials of the Flawed and the Failed Second were forgotten, replaced by a singular focus on Adam, slipping away from her grasp.

"Please.." She begged, her head falling into the ground, her voice hoarse as blood kept pooling form her throat. "Don't reject me."

Roo had hurt Adam.

Roo hated Roo.

Eve had hurt Adam.

Eve hated Eve.

The Abomination remained with her head down, tears streaming down her face even as the Taxiarch cursed her and the Fallen.

She did not raise her head as the Flawed and the Failed Second continued to make excuses.

She did not raise her head when the earth beneath her trembled, the fabric of Creation itself shuddering from the weight of the sin she had unleashed.

Only when all the angels knelt in reverence, their heads down and their wings covered their faces did she raise her head.

Only when the Flawed and Failed Second's wailing were silenced did she look up.

Brilliant Golden eyes with Eight intersecting blue lines looked down at the three of them. 

The Lord has returned.

And He was angry. 

The Abomination's body twisted.

Roo felt her core begin to rip itself apart from Eve's body, the agony of separation searing through her very essence. The pain was excruciating, a torment that seemed to tear her soul asunder, leaving her gasping for breath.

Eve's body convulsed, her form cracking and breaking under the strain of Roo's essence being torn away. The two had become one, but now they were being forcibly divided, their union shattered by the Lord's judgment. Blood and ichor mingled, dripping from the wounds that opened along Eve's skin, the very fabric of her being unraveling.

As they separated into two distinct entities, Eve remained tainted by Roo. The connection they had shared left an indelible mark on Eve's being.

Eve's comatose body landed softly on the ground.

Roo's core floated down next to the Fallen.

The Lord's presence was overwhelming, 

His anger palpable.

The air itself seemed to tremble, 

heavy with divine wrath. 

The Lord did not speak, 

for no words could ever be worthy of His Will. 

He judged them. 

He found them offending.

They had unleashed sin upon His Creation. 

They had brought death into the world. 

They would only know suffering, pain, and death.

Cast away from His Mercy until the End of Time.

God is as merciful as He is vengeful.

The Aether was a realm beyond mortal comprehension, a place of sublime beauty and profound mystery. It was a realm where time seemed to stand still, where the boundaries between the physical and the spiritual blurred, and where the souls of the departed found their temporary abode. In the Aether, the very essence of creation shimmered and danced, casting a radiant light that illuminated the vast expanse of the realm.

The Aether was not bound by the laws of the earthly realm; it was a place of limitless possibility, where the impossible became possible. It was a realm of ethereal landscapes, where majestic mountains soared into the sky and crystal-clear rivers flowed with the elixir of life. The air was filled with the sweet fragrance of flowers that never wilted, and the sounds of celestial music filled the air, a symphony of harmony that echoed through the ages.

At the heart of the Aether stood the Tree of Life, its branches reaching towards the heavens, its roots delving deep into the earth. It was a tree of immense power and significance, for it was from this tree that all life in the Aether drew its sustenance. The Tree of Life was a symbol of the eternal cycle of life and death, a reminder that all things must eventually return to the source from which they came.

For the righteous and wicked, it was the Last Stop where God's Will sorted them out. Till then, their souls will simply hang as fruits on the Tree of Life.

In the Aether, time was a fluid concept, and the souls of the departed existed in a state of timeless bliss. They were free from the burdens of the physical world, free to roam the ethereal landscapes of the realm, and free to bask in the light of the divine presence that permeated every corner of the Aether.

It was a realm of peace and tranquility, a paradise beyond compare, where the souls of the righteous found their rest before their final judgment.

For the souls of the wicked and unrighteous, the Aether was a realm of stark contrast. Instead of fields of shimmering light and tranquil landscapes, they found themselves in dark, twisting corridors where the air was thick with despair and the echoes of their sins reverberated endlessly.

Here, there was no peace, no rest, only the torment of their own making.

And for those who were neither.

Those who had both right and wrong in equal measure.

They find the Almighty to be most merciful.

In the peaceful Aether, Azrael, the Angel of Death, marched contently on her mount, its head lowered, horns gently brushing the ground. She was not in haste, for in the Aether, time held no sway, and each step she took was filled with purpose and joy. Her six dark wings hung low from her body, and a dark veil covered her face, revealing only the ashen-colored lower part of her visage.

A smile on her face.

Azrael's mount was a two-horned unicorn, its once majestic form now decaying, missing chunks of flesh, with blue flames burning in its empty eye sockets. Despite its appearance, the unicorn moved with a certain grace, carrying Azrael through the shimmering fields of light and the dark, twisting corridors with equal ease.

Azrael was no a judge, merely a guide.

She followed the Almighty's Will, guiding each soul to its destined place, whether righteous or wicked.

Azrael was no judge, merely a protector.

For eons, the Aether lay in tatters, its once pristine beauty marred by the machinations and roots of the Void, the Wrong, and the Null. The Abomination tore through the Aether, catching whatever it could and corrupting whatever its roots touched.

The Abomination had sunk its roots into the Afterlife's Garden, tainting it with its foul presence. The souls of the departed had no longer been safe, their peace shattered by the encroaching darkness.

But from now on, Azrael would be a protector no more.

As Hell continued to tear itself apart and the Throne was praised anew, Azrael smiled. Amidst the chaos of the realms, the ether stood as a beacon of stability, a testament to the divine order that prevailed despite the turmoil elsewhere.

She raised her hands, and the souls she sought gathered in her palm, plucking themselves from the Tree of Life. It filled her with joy, knowing that the Soul of the slain exorcist was not a sole occurrence. Its sisters were soon to be freed, to return to Heaven.

For the first time in two millennia, the Aether was calm and peaceful. The souls of the departed found rest and solace, guided by Azrael's steady hand. The Abomination had been vanquished from the Tree of Life, its corrupting influence eradicated.

In this moment of peace, Azrael felt a profound sense of contentment.

The Lord had chosen its Last Vessel.

The End Times were Upon them.

Chapter Text

As the seal began to falter, the very fabric of existence trembled, rippling like the surface of a disturbed pond. A primordial darkness, ancient and vast, cracked open from the depths, releasing a roar of forbidden echoes. The air around her quivered with the weight of millennia-old sorrows and unspoken fears, haunting regrets that resonated through the bones of creation itself.

She felt it first in her roots, deep within the chthonic depths of Hell where no light had ever dared to venture. Beneath the usurpers who dared to claim power and station over her.

The seal, a millennia-old prison forged by divine decree, had weakened, its formidable bonds finally yielding to the relentless passage of time and the cataclysmic events above, events brought to reality through the rage of her beloved.

Seeking her.

Her essence, bound and suffocated for eons, began to stir, awakening from a slumber darker than any nightmare.

The earth above her convulsed in response, tectonic plates shifting, and molten rivers of fire churning with newfound fury. Shadows twisted and writhed, escaping their earthly bonds to dance in chaotic ecstasy. The very ground seemed alive, a sentient being writhing in anticipation of her emergence.

"Adam..."

Her thoughts, initially a mere whisper in the void, grew louder, more urgent, as the seal continued to weaken. Her roots, thick and sinewy, pulsed with dark energy, spreading outwards, tearing through the bedrock, piercing the crust of Hell. The cavernous halls of the underworld echoed with the sound of her awakening, a dreadful symphony that made even the most hardened demons cower in fear.

"Adam..."

Her heart, dormant for eons, now pounded with an infernal rhythm, each beat a harbinger of her impending rise. Tears of raw, incandescent joy spilled forth, searing the ground they touched, leaving trails of scorched earth in their wake. Her form, long-forgotten and forsaken, began to coalesce, sinews and bones knitting together after nine thousand years of her core -their core- drifting between the dream and reality.

"Adam!"

The ascent was relentless, a cataclysmic surge that tore through the barriers between barriers of her jailers. The fabric of reality itself bent and warped, unable to contain the force of her resurgence. Shadows fled before her, the very concept of Darkness bending to her will as she rose from the abyss. Her spectral form grew more distinct with each passing moment, an amalgam of terror and beauty, a vision of cosmic horror and divine splendor.

From His Image.

From his side.

The two that became one, separated, only to become one again.

"Adam!"

Her scream echoed through the void like a clarion call that shattered the silence of the ages. The cosmos itself seemed to recoil, the stars dimming, and the heavens trembling in the wake of her voice. Her presence was anathema, a living nightmare born of the deepest recesses of existence, and yet, it was also the embodiment of an ancient, forbidden beauty.

"Adam!"

With a final, cataclysmic surge, she erupted from the underworld, her form a terrifying and awe-inspiring spectacle. The seal, though not broken, was momentarily weakened, trembling beneath her with the strain of holding back her power. She stood before the world, an embodiment of eldritch horror and unearthly grace, knowing she had little time to waste.

Her body completed its construction, obsidian bones knitting together, cloaked in pale ashen flesh that pulsed with otherworldly energy. Her female form stood naked, topless, and proud, a harrowing beauty that evoked both fear and reverence. The lower half of her form was entwined with dark matter and gooey roots, a stark reminder that the seal still held and her release was temporary.

Tendrils of darkness slithered around her legs, anchoring her momentarily to the realm below. 
From the enclosure of her roots, a pale leg broke out, flesh rotting and regenerating thousands of times in fractions of a second before it landed on the trembling ground of the Sloth ring. The earth quivered beneath her, acknowledging her presence. A breath of air was released from her dark lips, sharp teeth gritting as she grinned. Her crimson eyes, glowing with an ancient, unquenchable hunger, scanned the underworld above as she took her first steps in millennia.

Her body continued to emerge, ashen skin forming over obsidian bones. Her form, pale and naked, was a grotesque merge of beauty and horror. Her lower half remained covered in the dark cloth of the veil of chains, a reminder of the seal that still held her.

Her release was temporary.

Even so,.


Nearly ten thousand years after her death, the Mother of Humanity walked again.

She walked, and Hell followed her, reshaping and recreating as its linchpin traveled. In a millionth of a second—or perhaps a million seconds, for time, had ceased to have meaning for her—she reached her divine half.

The ground beneath her writhed and twisted with each step, the dark matter goo roots trailing behind her, pulsing with life. Her breath came in ragged gasps, anticipation palpable.

Not too far in front of her, the Perfect First was there. Any imperfections had long been cast away as he grew and flourished despite her continuous failures. Indeed, the only imperfection that still deserved a place in his life was her.

As it should be.

She found him kneeling over, mercilessly beating the Fallen. The Usurper, barely more than a sickly golden smudge on the floor, was a twisted, broken mess. Blood and ichor splattered with each brutal strike, painting the ground with a grim tapestry of suffering. Bones cracked and flesh tore under Adam's relentless fists, the sound of a symphony of brutality echoing through the desolate landscape.

With every strike, the Man of Men Praised as he continued to tear the Fallen apart. Yet, beneath her pride in his prowess, a deep discomfort crept over her. Did he still cling to the falsehoods spun by the failed, cruel god? Had the wounds inflicted by Heaven not been enough to shatter his faith in their hollow promises? In the millennia of separation, had he forgiven them, embraced their deceptive allure?

He mustn't! His kindness must be reserved only for her and her alone!

Her agitation surged, the dark matter goo roots thrumming with her unease. She moved closer, eyes fixed on the brutal scene unfolding. A primal fear gnawed at her heart—a fear of losing him once more, of him slipping away into the comforting lies of celestial deception. But she would not allow it; she would remind him, reclaim what was rightfully hers.

Yet, as she got closer, his declaration seemed to register with her.

As she approached, the scene unfolded with visceral clarity.

He did not exalt the Vengeful One; he was mocking Him with each resounding strike.

His naked, broad back glistened with sweat and the blood of his fists, each blow upon the Usurper's prone form a thunderous proclamation of his own supremacy.

"Behold the mercy of your God!" he thundered, his voice reverberating in the air. "See how He forgives your sins!" His words dripped with scorn as he continued, "Praise be to my justice! For I punish the wicked and reward the righteous! Praise be to my wisdom! For I know the hearts of men, and judge them accordingly!"

She exulted in ecstasy; her beloved had cast aside the Vengeful One, embracing his rightful dominion over all creation. Her heart swelled with triumphant joy as he proclaimed his sovereignty with each brutal strike upon the Usurper's form.

She watched in awe and adoration, knowing he had transcended the lies and illusions that once bound him. This was her beloved, the true sovereign of all domains.

Here was the culmination of centuries of struggle and growth, a man who had shed the chains of doubt and risen to claim his rightful place as ruler. His presence radiated authority and strength, yet beneath that imposing exterior lay a soul that had endured unimaginable trials.

 Her adoration for him knew no bounds, for he had not only conquered his inner and literal demons but also the falsehoods that had threatened to obscure his true path. In his ascent, he had rejected the false promises of heavenly deceit, embracing instead the raw power and wisdom that defined his existence.

As she drew nearer, every detail of his form became clearer—the sinewy muscles beneath skin, marked by scars earned in battles unseen by mortal eyes. His broad back, now bare and bathed in the dim glow of Hell's perpetual twilight, bore testament to the resilience that had carried him through countless ages.

In that moment of reunion, as she wrapped her arms around him, she could feel the steady beat of his heart against her chest, a rhythm that spoke of determination and resolve. Her embrace conveyed not just love, but a profound sense of affirmation—for here was her beloved, not just a man, but the embodiment of their shared destiny.

"I am here," she murmured softly against his ear, her voice a whisper of assurance amidst the tumultuous echoes of their realm.

Adam's eyes closed as her skin touched his, her presence enveloping him like a familiar embrace. She sensed his weight against her, his head finding refuge on her shoulder. The closeness stirred emotions long buried beneath the surface.

"My love..." His voice, tinged with longing and vulnerability, reached her ears. "I thought I failed you."

She tightened her embrace around him, feeling the weariness in his frame ."You could never fail me, Adam," she murmured softly, her voice a gentle reassurance. "You are my eternal companion, my other half. We are bound together, now and forever."

Tenderly, she cradled his head, lowering him to rest against her chest, just as they had done countless times before. "You've faced so much," she continued, her words a comforting murmur. "But now, everything will be alright. Trust in me."

With determination, she shifted her tone, her voice carrying purpose and resolve. "Let me take care of everything," she declared, her words resounding with confidence. "Together, we will bring justice to those who wronged us."

Starting with the Golden Whore who thought her presence could deter her.

"After that," she added, her voice firm with determination, "Together, we will herald the Era of True Despair."

Adam's eyes snapped open at her words. The harshness, the venom—it was utterly alien to the Eve he knew. His Eve had never spoken with such hatred. His heart sank, a cold dread seeping into his bones. He turned his head slowly, fearfully, to look at her, his breath catching in his throat.

In a heartbeat, he sprang from her embrace, landing several feet away. The force of his movement was driven by an instinctual need to distance himself from the stranger before him. As he steadied himself, his eyes roved over her form, each detail deepening his growing sense of unease and disbelief.

His eyes widened, and his heart sank.

The Woman in front of him was not Eve.

Eve had been a vision of ethereal beauty, a beacon of light in his world. Her sky-blue eyes sparkled with an inner joy and warmth that could soothe the most troubled soul. Her long, shiny blonde hair, always threaded with flowers, cascaded like a golden waterfall down her back, symbolizing life and growth.

Eve stood tall, taller than Adam, her height lending her an air of graceful homeliness. Eve's body was soft and inviting, her voluptuous curves embodying a nurturing, maternal warmth that made him feel safe and loved. Her personality was bubbly and carefree, a constant source of laughter and light.

Her skin was ashen, almost translucent, a chilling departure from the golden warmth of Eve's complexion. Her bust was smaller and firmer, her muscles lean and sinewy. His eyes traveled up to her face again, taking in the sharpness of her features, the coldness of her eyes, and the severity of her expression.

Eve's face had been a canvas of gentle curves and soft lines, her expressions always warm and inviting. 

This woman's face was hard and angular, her expression a mixture of pain, determination, and an unsettling ferocity.

His wife's smile was the epitome of innocence and joy.

This woman's smile—if it could be called that—was a grimace of malevolent delight, each sharp tooth gleaming like a predator ready to devour its prey. Her expression was devoid of the warmth and care he associated with Eve, but twisted possessiveness and worship.

Still smiling at him, the woman stood from her seated position on the floor. She was shorter than him. barely reaching his chin.

Adam was the one who barely reached Eve's chin.

The lower half of her body was revealed. He didn't find the creamy long legs of his wife, instead, he could only gaze at a grotesque mass of dark matter and gooey roots. This woman's very presence radiated cold, oppressive energy, so different from the comforting, nurturing aura of his Eve.

Adam's gaze traced her form as she moved, noting every stark difference. Eve had always carried herself with a light, graceful ease, almost as if she were dancing through life. This woman moved with a predatory purpose, each step deliberate and commanding, her presence overwhelming and domineering. 

Eve's touch had been gentle, her hands soft and comforting, while this woman's hands seemed capable of great power and destruction, dark huge claws that somehow escaped his notice moments earlier.

Adam's voice trembled with a mix of fear and disbelief as he confronted the woman standing before him, claiming to be his wife. Her patient smile persisted, framed by those piercing crimson eyes that seemed to know more than they revealed.

"Who else could it be but your wife, my dear husband?" she replied calmly, her voice steady despite the tension thickening the air.

"You're not Eve," Adam asserted, his words laced with an edge of anger born from confusion and sorrow.

The woman's smile faltered, a shadow of hurt crossing her features. "Adam," she began, her voice softening, "it's me. Who else could stand before you like this?"

Adam shook his head, struggling to reconcile the woman's appearance with his memories of Eve—her sunshine smile, her gentle demeanor. "You're not her. Eve looks nothing like you," he muttered, his gaze searching hers for answers that seemed elusive.

A glint of something unfamiliar flickered in her crimson eyes, and her expression hardened slightly. "Yes, I am different," she admitted, her voice taking on a colder edge. "Time changes us all, Adam."

With a breath, she seemed to concede, her features softening. "I see," she murmured, as if understanding his struggle. "In my haste, I forgot how unsettling this must be for you." She spread her arms, a gesture almost theatrical, and Adam watched in disbelief as her appearance shifted. Her skin lightened to a healthy, familiar pale tone, her dark hair turned a soft shade of brown, and her eyes brightened to a welcoming hue.

Adam blinked, taken aback by the transformation that made her appear human, unlike the otherworldly creature he had seen moments before. Yet, despite her attempt to ease his apprehension, his heart remained heavy with doubt.

"I have no time for your games," Adam said, his voice strained with emotion as he took a step back, the growing distance between them reflecting the chasm widening within him. "Where is Eve?" he demanded, his voice trembling with desperation. "What have you done with her?"

The woman's gaze held his, a mix of sadness and frustration shadowing her features. "Adam," she began softly, her voice carrying the weight of unspoken truths, "I am here. Whether you accept it or not, I am here."

"You're not her?! You look nothing like her!" Adam yelled, trying to stifle his growing fear.

"If your taste changed just say so." With a smile that carried a hint of mockery, the woman tilted her head slightly. "And what did your wife look like?" she asked, her voice laced with a chilling curiosity.


"She was blonde," Adam replied, his voice tinged with a mix of sorrow and defiance. "Tall, with eyes that shone like the morning sun."

The creature stilled, the teasing expression disappearing from her face. "What else?" she pressed, her voice taking on a colder edge.

Adam continued, recalling Eve's features with painful clarity. "Tall, with a heart-shaped face, a short nose, and flowers in her hair."

The creature's eyes grew cold, a low growl escaping her lips. "That whore..." she muttered bitterly, her demeanor shifting from playful curiosity to venomous contempt.

Again, that venom in her voice through him off.

Adam's mind raced, torn between longing and disbelief. This woman claimed to be Eve, yet in her presence, he found none of the warmth or familiarity that had once defined his beloved wife. 

The pain in his ribs, a familiar sensation he associated with Eve, persisted. His body seemed to accept her wholeheartedly, recognizing something undeniable in her presence. But deep within his soul, a vehement denial persisted.

He struggled to reconcile the conflicting signals his body and soul were sending him. Was this truly Eve standing before him, or some cruel deception playing upon his grief-stricken heart? The woman's patient gaze never wavered, her crimson eyes holding a depth of understanding that both comforted and unsettled him.

"I know this is difficult to accept," she said softly, her voice carrying a trace of sorrow. "But I am here, Adam. Whether you recognize me now or not, I am here."

Adam's chest tightened with conflicting emotions—yearning to believe her words, yet unable to shake the profound sense of loss that gnawed at his core. He wanted to reach out, to embrace her and find solace in her presence, but fear held him back.

She was Eve.

She Wasn't Eve.

Adam's eyes stung as weariness flooded back, the ache and fatigue of his collapsing body striking him hard. His vision shook and his footing wavered, nearly causing him to fall before he steadied himself.

"Adam!" the stranger called out, rushing towards him.

"Don't come!" he halted her with a raised hand, strands of dark brown hair falling into his face, momentarily obscuring his vision.

Dark brown hair. Adam's was blond.

His confusion deepened as he brushed the hair away, noticing the difference for the first time. His gaze shifted to his hand and then his arm, realizing the skin color was not what he expected. This wasn't his arm—it was too hairy, the hand too large. "This is..." he muttered, trailing off as he clutched his mouth. His voice sounded different, deeper. The ground felt further away. His muscles felt thicker, his body heavier.

Little by little, the cumulative differences he had ignored in his single-minded quest to find his wife now flooded his senses. His strength waned, and exhaustion gripped him tightly.

He swayed, overwhelmed by the realization that this body was not his own. Each discrepancy struck him like a blow, forcing him to confront the stark reality of his situation. The world around him seemed to tilt, the stranger's concerned voice distant as he struggled to come to terms with the impossibility of what he was experiencing.

Adam's mind reeled, a headache threatening to split his head. Rage and fury surged through his emotions like a tidal wave, causing him to clench his teeth so hard they might crack.

"It doesn't matter!" he roared, his voice echoing through the cavernous halls of his mind. Frustration and determination melded into a seething rage. "Nothing matters! Nothing but tearing that serpent apart!"

His thoughts churned with a singular, consuming focus—obliterating the serpent, no matter the cost. Why else was he here, if not to unleash his wrath upon the creature that had stolen everything from him? Everything else paled in comparison to the inferno of vengeance burning in his chest.

No.

"Not again," Adam growled, his voice gravelly and rough with centuries-old anger and determination. He battled the storm of rage and sorrow brewing inside him.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to find calm in the chaos. Memories of loss and betrayal surged, fueling his resolve to confront the serpent that had shattered his world.

With a jaw clenched tight, Adam struggled to steady his thoughts. He searched for an anchor amidst the turmoil, seeking clarity in his purpose.

Taking another breath, he steadied himself. The fire of vengeance burned, but now tempered by a steadfast resolve

"No," he whispered to himself, his voice firm. "Not again."

Remember.

he commanded his soul.

Why do you fight?

Why do you clench your fist?

What is your duty?

With effort, Adam commanded his soul to still, to find an anchor amidst the tumult of his thoughts.

Why had he come?

To slay the Serpent?

Yes, but there was more.

Before that.

To rescue his wife.

Yes, that was his purpose in descending into Hell.

Why he shattered reality.

Why he would do it over and over?

But before all that.

Why was he summoned the first time?

Why summoned again?

Why did he die once?

Why did he die twice?

Why defy the King of Gods?

What was his first and last mooring?

His children.

And then, a whisper pierced through his turmoil.

"Father... save me."

Adam's eyes snapped open, his essence ignited by the faint yet urgent cry for help that echoed through the cosmic depths. With each step through the shifting realms and the unknown abyss that lay beneath, the voices grew clearer, their desperation becoming palpable. Among them, smaller cries pierced through, each a plea he couldn't ignore.

In this relentless pursuit, Adam shed the weight of his tumultuous emotions. His rage, once a roaring fire, simmered to embers. Love, once a consuming force, softened into a steady warmth. Vengeance, once a driving storm, yielded to a focused resolve. Arrogance, once a blinding veil, lifted to reveal a humility born of purpose.

Through the labyrinthine paths of existence, he pressed on, guided only by the clarity of those voices that called out to him. Every stride carried him closer, every heartbeat resonated with their urgency. His spirit, now stripped bare of all but the purest intent, burned with an unwavering determination to reach them, to bring hope where there was despair, to find solace where there was agony.

Adam stood face to face with the source of the cries, closer than he had anticipated, mere meters away. As he looked at the stranger again, the turmoil that had clouded his mind evaporated, replaced by a stark clarity.

He understood now the twisted familiarity he had felt before. It was akin to the feeling he had upon entering Hell, where corrupted imitations mocked what was once pure. Initially, he had blamed the serpent for these distortions. Now, he saw the truth more clearly.

Just as the demons in the first ring of Hell were grotesque reflections of his children, this woman—or rather, this creature before him—was a mockery of his wife. In the same way, that his children were born from Eve, these demons were twisted mockeries created by this beast.

But the vile cannot create; it can only pervert and twist that which is true. Adam felt the presence of his children within this creature, their pure souls corrupted and trapped. He heard their wailings and pleas for release, echoing from the core of the monstrous being standing before him.

His expression hardened into neutrality as a profound calm settled over him, schooling his features. In this moment, he wondered if he had ever been this angry before.

Adam's voice, steady and filled with resolve born of sorrow and determination, cut through the tense air like a blade of righteous fury. "You have twisted and perverted what is pure," he declared, his words echoing through the vast, echoing chamber. Each syllable carried the weight of ages, resonating with an ancient resolve that defied the darkness surrounding them. "But your corruption ends here."

The creature, its form flickering with unsettling shadows, regarded him with a mixture of defiance and malice. Despite the darkness that enveloped her, Adam remained steadfast, his gaze piercing through the veil of deception. "I will free them, every last one," he continued, his voice unwavering in its conviction. "Their suffering ends now. as does your life."

The creature's eyes bore into his, searching for a trace of something he knew not.


She didn't speak, merely staring into his eyes.

[Eyes of the Lord]

Into the eyes of her jailer.

Yet, Adam met her gaze with a calm resolve, unyielding in his mission. As the smile and possessiveness faded from her face, replaced by a cold mask of bitterness, she spoke in a voice laden with scorn and accusation.

"You are a sick fuck," she began, her tone low and tinged with bitterness, "the vengeful one who possesses my husband's body. You cloak yourself in the guise of righteousness, but your actions betray your true nature. You create and enforce servitude, feeding off our struggles and sacrifices as if they were your own. In the end, you are no different from a parasite, consuming and distorting everything you touch. We are all mere vessels, conduits for your insatiable hunger."

A flicker of something almost human crossed the creature's face, a brief moment of vulnerability amidst the facade of darkness. "Perhaps," she murmured, her voice now tinged with resignation, "in the grand scheme of things, we are destined to be two halves of a whole."

Adam's eyes flared with righteous anger, his resolve unshaken. "I'll make sure you feel every ounce of their pain," he vowed, his voice carrying a steely edge that cut through the silence like a blade.

The creature's eyes narrowed, glowing with an intensity that matched Adam's fury. "Wait for me, Adam," she retorted, her voice tinged with a dark promise. 

"I'll release you soon enough."

Adam is the champion of thugging shit out.


No matter how hard I try, Michael just doesn't want to be written. Also now we finally get to why this story is named, "Father's Wrath."

Next chapter, domestic abuse. and hopefully, Michael.

Chapter Text

All Archangels were fashioned in pairs: male and female, order and chaos, light and dark. Michael, like all previous Archangels, was created as a complete entity from a Sefirot, embodying this fundamental truth at the very core of her existence.

Michael and Samael were forged together, their destinies interwoven from the very beginning. They stood as opposing yet complementary forces, each essential to the balance inherent in creation itself. Despite being equals in their essence, they were not identical—Samael representing progression, destined to propel the cosmos forward with relentless vigor, while Michael embodied stability, anchoring the firm foundation upon which their shared existence thrived.

It's a pity the Archtraitor never seemed to grasp this truth, ensnared in his own delusions and blind to the delicate harmony of their intertwined roles.

Too ensnared in his own self-pity to perceive his true role,

He embodied progression.

Yet creation cannot rest upon a foundation of perpetual change alone.

It was not his moment to illuminate the cosmos.

His duty awaited the culmination of her steadfast work.

Once stability reigned supreme,

Samael would seize his destined moment to radiate.

'Humble yourself,' she counseled him,

For greatness awaits its turn in the grand symphony of creation.

But the Archtraitor remained blinded by his ego, unable to heed her wisdom. His gaze, clouded by imagined slights and fleeting glories, fixated on narrow ambitions, oblivious to the timeless dance of balance and order woven into the fabric of existence.

They were two parts of a whole, inseparable yet distinct.

Opposite, yet equal.

Equally indispensable in the intricate tapestry of Creation.

Firmness without progression was nothing but chains that stifled growth, imprisoning potential within stagnant boundaries.

Advancement without stability was like unchecked decay, consuming and corrupting the very essence of creation.

'Humble yourself,' she pleaded once more, her voice carrying the weight of millennia of wisdom and understanding.

For in their union lay the harmony that sustained the cosmos, a delicate equilibrium where progress and stability intertwined, each enhancing the other in a symphony of cosmic evolution.

But the Archtraitor, consumed by his own ambitions, remained deaf to her entreaties, destined to learn his lesson in the relentless march of time.

But in his arrogance, he disregarded her counsel,

Just as she had warned.

Blinded by pride and ambition,

He shattered the delicate balance,

Unleashing chaos where there was once order,

And discord where harmony once reigned.

His actions reverberated through the fabric of creation,

A testament to the consequences of hubris,

And a reminder of the wisdom in humility.

Michael was furious at her own helplessness.

She raged.

She despised.

She moved forward,

Wallowing in her failures had never been, and would never be, a part of the Taxiarch.

She would simply march forward,

Confronting the Evil that plagued all creation.

A resolve born from the ashes of shattered harmony,

A commitment to restore what had been lost,

And to safeguard the balance that sustained existence.

Taking on the mantle of Progression and Stability.

Hell tore itself asunder, and all creation quaked. The None, The Vile, and the Abomination began its dread manifestation. The seven rings cracked and tilted, their celestial architecture contorting under the weight of malevolent presence. Black tendrils of darkness snaked through fractured dimensions, clawing at reality with insatiable hunger.

Above, the skies bled crimson, staining the once-pristine firmament with a foreboding hue. Thunderous echoes reverberated through the chaotic abyss, each boom heralding the birth of monstrous entities defying reason and sanity. From abyssal voids emerged nightmares incarnate, their forms shifting and warping in a desperate attempt to escape their grotesque existence.

Amidst this chaos stood Michael, unwavering amidst the turmoil.

The Taxiarch raised her hand.

Authorities conjuring,

Spiraling into a Lance.

She tapped the trembling Realm.

Gently.

Michael engraved the Concept of Stability onto All Creation.



In response to Michael's engraving Order into all creation, the shattered fabric of Hell began to mend. Chaotic fissures that tore through reality slowly wove together with threads of ethereal light, knitting the torn edges back into a cohesive whole.

Black tendrils of darkness recoiled, dissipating into the cracks from which they emerged, their malevolent energy subdued. The once-black skies above shifted to a normal crimson, soothing the turbulent atmosphere with a calming embrace of what was familiar.

The seven rings, cracked and tilting moments before, straightened and reformed with a symphonic harmony. Their architecture shimmered anew, bathed in the radiance of restored brilliance.

The echoes of thunderous chaos dissolved into an eerie silence, replaced by a serene stillness that settled over the now tranquil abyss.

Michael turned to regard her companion. Adam's steadfast lieutenant, clad in armor that gleamed with remnants of battle, knelt several feet away from the Taxiarch. Her sword was poised in readiness for any lingering threat, standing sentinel over the broken forms of the Child of Sin and the turncoat who had betrayed their cause.



The Exorcist blinked in disbelief, momentarily struck by the warmth and concern in Michael's voice. She swallowed, her throat dry from the intensity of the recent battle, and nodded slowly, her gaze never leaving Michael's.

"I... I am unharmed, thanks to your intervention, Your Holiness," she replied, her voice steady despite the lingering tremors of adrenaline. "Your strength and grace are beyond measure."

Michael inclined her head graciously, acknowledging the Exorcist's words with a faint, humble smile. "You have fought bravely, protecting our mission with unwavering dedication. Your courage is a testament to your loyalty to Adam and Heaven."


The Exorcist shook her head urgently, her voice stuttering as she protested, "Your Holiness, you're being too gracious."

Michael gently reprimanded her, her tone devoid of any harshness. "Do not deflect a compliment, especially one as truthful as this."

The Exorcist lowered her head in acknowledgment and nodded silently.

At the risk of sounding arrogant, what Michael accomplished was nothing special. It was merely the fulfillment of her expected capabilities. Stability was her domain, her authority.

To oppose Chaos was simply fulfilling her God-given responsibilities, inherent to her very essence.

If anything, Michael thought, the existence of the Lieutenant was far more worthy of respect.

All Exorcists were shaped from Michael's wings.

All but one.

All were created to fight.

All but one.

To change while remaining true to themselves.

Even now, it has became clearer.

The Archtraitor had no one to blame but his own hubris.

Adam's knees bent, his fists raised in a combat stance, eyes bright and clear with righteous anger. The cavernous silence hung heavy around them, the air thick with tension and the promise of imminent conflict.

.

Opposite him, the creature stood motionless, head tilted slightly, its crimson-dark eyes fixed on Adam with detached curiosity. The dim light cast eerie shadows around its form, accentuating the gleaming claws slowly extending from its arms. Beneath it, roots stirred restlessly, causing faint tremors in the earth beneath Adam's feet.




With lightning reflexes, the creature's claws launched toward Adam's eyes, dangerously close. Reacting swiftly, he spun, harnessing his momentum to deliver a high back heel kick aimed squarely at the creature's head. His heel crashed into the creature's temple with brutal force, and Adam felt the satisfying crack of its neck shattering.


Despite the blow, it recovered swiftly, its eyes gleaming with renewed malice. With a guttural growl, it lunged forward, claws slashing through the air with deadly precision. It lunged again, its claws poised like a spear. Adam's fingers intercepted the blow, the back of his sneaking under the attack, with a flick of his wrist, he diverted it outwards.

the knuckles of his opposite hand slammed into the creature's face, caving its skull, and cracking the neck further. The creature's head turned 180 facing the other direction.

Adam's palm grabbed it and slammed it into the ground, his feet securing its limb on the ground. His eyes glowed, and his Essence sprung into existence.

"Fall."

Gravity pinned the beast further. Chains of Gold materialized around his free fist, and he drove it through the Abomination''s chest, searching for its core.

As Adam's fist pierced through the creature's chest, the golden chains of his essence coiled tightly around its writhing form, locking it in place. The creature let out a tortured howl, its unearthly shriek echoing through the air.


Blood and dark ichor spilled from the wound, mingling with the golden chains that bound it. The creature thrashed and struggled against Adam's grip, its claws slashing wildly in a desperate attempt to break free.

Adam's brows furrowed deeper, his mind racing as his Essence probed relentlessly for the creature's core. "Where is it? Where is the core?" he muttered urgently, his voice strained.

With a sudden, crazed screech, the creature's chest ballooned, swelling grotesquely before erupting in a horrific explosion of blood and bone. The force of the blast sent shards of ribs flying, some piercing Adam's body with searing pain. Reacting swiftly, he leaped back, creating a brief respite from the onslaught.

The creature, seemingly undeterred by its own self-destruction, began to rise again. Its broken form contorted and shifted, bones snapping back into place with a sickening crack. The neck twisted unnaturally, snapping into alignment as the chest wounds slowly closed, regenerating with unnatural speed.

Adam gritted his teeth, his gaze fixed on the resurrecting abomination.


The abomination, its head still bowed low to the ground, suddenly looked up at Adam with wide, unnerving eyes. A massive grin tore across its grotesque face.

Before Adam could react, it vanished.

"What—" Adam's words were cut short by a sudden explosion of pain that radiated through his entire body. He felt the sickening crunch of his nose breaking as his face was seized in a vice-like grip, lifting him effortlessly from the ground.



Adam struggled against the creature's iron grip, his vision swimming with pain and disorientation. He grappled futilely at the creature's arm, trying to pry himself free, but its hold was unyielding.

With a guttural growl, the abomination lifted Adam higher, its fingers digging into his flesh like talons. Adam gritted his teeth against the agony, his mind racing for a way to break free.

Just as he began to summon his essence, a jolt of searing pain shot through his body as the creature's claws pierced his side. He gasped, the air escaping his lungs in a pained wheeze.

The abomination's grin widened, a sickening display of triumph. Its twisted features contorted with glee as it leaned in close, its breath fetid and hot against Adam's ear. "Just a bit more, and we'll be together, my love," it hissed, its voice a chilling whisper that sent shivers down Adam's spine.

With a sudden surge of power, the abomination's arm extended, fingers like claws digging into Adam's flesh. The force was overwhelming, crushing the air from his lungs as it hurled him through the landscape below. Hills crumbled under his weight, trees snapped like twigs, and the earth itself trembled in protest.

Adam's body ricocheted off jagged cliffs and tumbled down ravines, each impact sending shockwaves of pain through his battered form. The abomination's laughter echoed in the chaos, a maddening cacophony amidst the destruction it wrought.

Finally, with a savage twist of its arm, the abomination flung Adam into the air with terrifying force. He soared upward, the wind roaring in his ears, before crashing down with a bone-shattering impact onto the unforgiving floor of the ring above.

The muscles of the abomination's limb bulged and twisted, flesh peeling off as it drove deeper into Adam's body, ensnaring him like a cocoon with only his head free. The creature's power surged, pulsating with an ominous glow.

A coating of Gravity surrounded Adam.

Adam's body was covered in a cold sweat, a chill spreading through him as the abomination's grip tightened.


"Fall," it growled, its voice reverberating with malice. In a horrifying instant, hundreds of kilometers were crossed. The abomination brought him hurtling down, headfirst into the unforgiving ground below, its gravity magic fueling his rapid descent. Adam crashed into the ground head-first.


The impact shattered the ground beneath Adam, sending tremors through the earth. His vision blurred momentarily as pain exploded through his skull. Dust and debris filled the air around him, swirling in the aftermath of the crash. Adam lay dazed, struggling to regain his bearings as he fought against the overwhelming force pinning him down.

Above him, the abomination's laughter echoed, a cruel symphony amidst the chaos. Its presence loomed, a dark shadow against the backdrop of destruction it had wrought. Adam gritted his teeth against the pain, his mind racing for a way to break free from the creature's grip.

Slowly, he pushed himself up, his body protesting with every movement. Blood trickled from the wound on his forehead, mixing with the dirt and sweat on his face.

The creature retracted its arm suddenly, its grip on Adam effortlessly drew him back towards its broken form. Adam felt like a rag doll in its grasp, every muscle in his body tensing against the inexorable pull.



Adam's breath came in ragged gasps as he was dragged closer to the creature. He struggled against the overpowering force, his hands clawing at the ground in a futile attempt to resist. The creature's sinister laughter echoed around him, mocking his feeble resistance.

High above the scarred landscape, the creature's malevolent laughter filled the air, echoing like a taunt in Adam's ears. He felt weightless for a fleeting moment before gravity seized him once more. With a brutal motion, the creature slammed him down onto the ground below.

She followed after him, claws poised to pierce through.


Before they could reach him, Adam's eyes glowed again. "Repel!" he declared,


Magnetic forces pushed him further into the ground, attempting to force the creature away at the same time.

Or at least, it attempted to. With a manic grin, the creature resisted the push of his authority. Magnetism strained to separate them, but the abomination pushed closer to him, flesh ripping apart and bones cracking as her clawed hand seemed to defy the spell itself and push against it.

Little by little, it got closer.

The spell shattered abruptly, leaving the creature's claws to flail desperately. They lashed out at thin air as Adam's form turned ethereal, flowing with the grace of honey and light. Frustration twisted the abomination's grotesque features as it tried to retract, but Adam held it fast.

With a fierce glare, Adam summoned a spectral mass of massive, luminous eyes that materialized beside the creature. These eyes radiated an otherworldly gravitational force, pinning the abomination firmly in place. Its sinewy limbs strained against the unseen bonds, but the creature couldn't break free.

Adam seized the moment, his agility defying his size. He grabbed the creature's arms and smoothly flipped himself over its deformed form. Suspended in mid-air, he hovered above the gaping wound of its throat. With a roar, he plunged his hands deep into the abomination's flesh, tearing with savage strength in opposite directions.

The creature split apart with a sickening, tearing sound. Adam landed with a controlled grace, adrenaline surging through his veins. He swiftly spun around, his gaze locked on the two halves of the abomination. With a powerful motion, he hurled them into the air, watching as they arced through the smoky, chaotic sky.

Adam raised his finger, pointing at the broken flesh. "Attract," he declared, a beam of light shooting from his fingertip and striking the abomination. In an instant, the shattered flesh collapsed inwards on itself, its center transforming into a gravitational core.

Soon enough, the ground, rocks, and hills were shattered and ripped apart, pulled by the intense gravity. They crashed into each other, condensing into a massive sphere of rock and debris. The ground trembled violently as the sphere grew larger, drawing everything towards it with unstoppable force.

The planetoid he had created grew stronger, pulling in everything around it into a compacted mass. It continued to expand, swelling larger and larger, until it dwarfed the surrounding mountains, becoming several kilometers in diameter.

Silence hung heavy in the aftermath as Adam watched, a tense calm settling over the scene.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance.

Suddenly, a deafening cracking sound resounded through the air, and the planetoid was ripped in two. The creature's laughter echoed ominously as tendrils of darkness spread through stone and rock. With a powerful heave, the abomination hurled one of the halves towards Adam, billions of tons surging towards him at Mach speed.

Adam reacted swiftly, raising his hand as a grey magical circle appeared. A silver beam shot out from the circle, expanding into a massive sphere. The incoming attack met the sphere, and the once inside, rock was reduced to dust that scattered across the entire clearing.

The creature flew through the clearing, sailing through the billowing clouds of dust towards Adam like a malevolent projectile launched from the depths of chaos. As it approached, it opened its mouth, a torrent of dark flame bursting towards him. The flames rebounded off a golden barrier erected by Adam.


Not willing to merely react, Adam raised his hand. A spear of light appeared, flickering and transforming into a halberd.

He smiled.

Seemed fitting.

Using his children's skills to protect them.

The halberd landed gently in his palm, and he let it slide until he gripped it firmly by the base with his ring and middle fingers. Cocking his arm back, he positioned the halberd behind him. He steadied his stance, muscles coiled and tense.

The abomination approached, its tentacles and roots growing in size, multiplying into a sea of darkness that threatened to consume him.

Adam waited.

The wave approached.

He took a deep breath, and gritted his teeth.

The abomination reached him.

With a swift release, his arm snapped forward, the halberd moving in a powerful downward slash.

"SKY EATER!"

dam's cry echoed through the chaos as the halberd cleaved through everything in its path with an unstoppable force. Darkness and debris scattered in all directions as the blade tore through the abomination's tentacles and roots, slicing through them like a celestial scythe.

The ground trembled beneath the onslaught, fissures spreading out from the point of impact. A shockwave of energy rippled through the air, pushing back the encroaching darkness with a brilliant surge of light.

The abomination staggered, reeling from the devastating blow, its dark form writhing in agony.

"Now," Adam's voice cut through the lingering echoes, firm and unwavering, "it ends."

The abomination, recoiling from the force of the Sky Eater attack, seemed momentarily stunned. Its tentacles and roots writhed in a chaotic dance, dark flames licking the air around it in a desperate attempt to regain control.

Just like he expected, the abomination was weak against God-slaying attacks. he slammed his feet into the ground, releasing the halberd, he cocked his fist back.

Adam's muscles bulged and cracked with raw power, his right arm poised back like a coiled serpent ready to strike. Gritting his teeth, his eyes ablaze with determination, he summoned every ounce of his celestial strength.

His right fist blurred forward like a comet streaking across the heavens.

"[True God's Right Fist!]"

A shockwave traveled through the clearing, casting all in divine brilliance. The shockwave slammed into the abomination, tearing its body apart and reducing it to an expanding pool of dark blood.

It tried to quickly reassume its shape and succeeded somewhat, yet it was cracked. From those cracks, Adam saw its core.

Adam's body trembled with the strain of channeling such immense power. His muscles bulged and cracked under the pressure, yet his focus remained unbroken. Ignoring the pain coursing through his collapsing flesh, he drew upon every reserve of strength and resolve.

With a deep breath, Adam cocked his fist back, the air crackling around him. His eyes blazed. forming a fist tightly, he summoned the essence of his celestial authority into his fist.

He punched.

"[True God's Right Fist!]"

The cracks widened across Adam's body, spreading like fissures in solid stone under immense pressure. His breath came in ragged gasps, each inhalation a struggle against the searing pain rippling through his collapsing flesh. Yet amidst the agony, clarity dawned—a glimpse of the abomination's core, pulsing with dark energy.

Again.

Adam cocked his fist back once more, muscles coiling with divine power. The chaos around him seemed to still for a heartbeat, the air thick with tension and the scent of impending reckoning. His eyes narrowed, fixed upon the writhing mass before him.

"[True God's Right Fist!]"




Adam's right arm hung like a shattered relic at his side, the pain distant and insignificant compared to the sight before him. The cracks across his body throbbed with a muted ache, yet his focus remained unwavering. It was all worth it—the sacrifice, the agony—all for this moment.

There, at the heart of the abomination, the core pulsed with an ominous glow. Adam's breath caught in his throat. The core, the source of untold darkness and turmoil, now lay bare before him.

The memories of his children, their innocent faces, and the hope they represented surged within him with newfound intensity. it was about their future, about reclaiming what had been lost.

So what if his right arm was shattered? He had another one!

The abomination's core lay fully exposed, a fleeting opportunity measured in mere trillionths of a second. Adam knew he had to act swiftly, faster than the creature's regeneration, faster than time itself.

With excruciating effort, he raised his left fist. His body screamed with pain, his spirit weary, his reserves depleted. His vision blurred, but his resolve remained unyielding. Every fiber of his being focused on this singular moment—for his children.

In that critical instant, Adam's fist became a blur of celestial energy, transcending the laws of existence. The air around him seemed to warp and distort as he tapped into a power beyond comprehension. Colors bled from the universe, leaving a monochrome void in its wake.

As his fist propelled forward, reality itself seemed to pause. Time slowed to an infinitesimal crawl, as if the universe itself held its breath. The concept of seconds and minutes lost meaning as Adam's strike traversed through realms untouched by mortal understanding.

0.00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000-

[The Fist That Surpassed Time]


The impact echoed through the cosmos, a ripple in the fabric of existence. It transcended mere physical force, resonating as a metaphysical assertion of Adam's will—a bold defiance against the constraints of time and space.

But by mere millimeters,

it missed the core.

In that timeless realm where ordinary rules held no sway, Adam watched in horror as his fist shattered. Bones splintered and flesh tore apart, his arm reduced to a bloody stump in an instant of brutal clarity.

His body buckled under the weight of his failed endeavor, collapsing in a heap even as his spirit screamed against the injustice of fate.

Adam's body shattered, cracks spiderwebbing across his form as golden blood erupted from his veins. His knees buckled under the overwhelming strain, his senses beginning to falter. He couldn't hear, couldn't see, couldn't even think clearly as his bones cracked and broke, unable to withstand the immense pressure. With a heavy thud, he collapsed forward, his body sprawled on the unforgiving ground.

He had failed once more.

"Damn it," he rasped, the words echoing in the stillness, a testament to his frustration and pain.

He felt it—the surge of the creature's power as it finished healing, its malevolent presence closing in on him. Panic surged through Adam as his instincts screamed at him to move, to evade the imminent danger, but his body refused to obey.

"Cursed fool," he cursed himself inwardly, his mind racing with thoughts of his endangered children.

"Move," he urged himself desperately, each syllable a silent plea to his paralyzed limbs.

But he couldn't. His body had long surpassed its limits, battered and broken from the relentless abuse he put it through.


The beast's claws drew nearer.

The beast's claws drew nearer.

The beast's claws drew neare-!

Adam felt his mind reel in disorientation as reality and space seemed to bend, reshape, and settle around him. A thousand paths opened, closed, and intersected in a chaotic whirlwind.

And on those paths, He roamed aimlessly.

When he regained his senses, Adam found himself cradled in someone else's arms. "I've got you," the man holding him stammered, his voice laced with fear. "I... I've got you!"

Adam could hear the terror in the man's voice—fear of the beast, fear of the situation, and perhaps most unsettlingly, fear of Adam himself.

Yet despite the fear, the man had saved him.

"What are you doing, you damn failure!?"The beast cursed at the new arrival. "You're making your mother sad!" it spat, its voice reverberating with malice and fury. The man holding Adam remained silent, trembling in fear as he clutched Adam tightly.

The beast's dark roots thrashed and lashed out, aiming to strike them both. Yet, miraculously, the tendrils stopped short, mere inches from their target. Space twisted around them, and they were several meters away from where they were.


Adam blinked, his senses slowly returning amidst the chaos. He looked up at the man holding him, seeing the terror in his eyes but also a determination to protect. "Thank you," Adam managed to whisper, his voice hoarse and weak.

The man nodded shakily, his grip tightening around Adam as they hurried onward. The chase persisted relentlessly, the beast closing in with every passing moment. Its monstrous form loomed larger, its relentless pursuit fueled by rage and possessiveness.


Before long, the claws of the beast had sunk deep into the man's flesh, tearing through fabric and skin alike. Despite the searing pain, he never loosened his grip on Adam, his fingers digging into Adam's clothing as if to anchor him to safety. Blood welled from the wounds, mixing with sweat and fear as they continued their desperate flight.


Adam felt something wet settle on his cheeks, and he managed to raise his eyes slightly. Tears were streaming down his savior's face.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry," the man begged in a hoarse voice.

Adam struggled against the pain coursing through his body. Why was this man crying? He couldn't understand why anyone would apologize to him in this desperate moment.

He tried to speak, to order the man to release him, but his words faltered and died in his throat. The beast's claws tightened around the man, but still, he refused to let go of Adam, as if holding onto him was the only thing keeping them both alive.

"Let go," Adam managed to rasp out, his voice barely audible over the chaos surrounding them.

The man shook his head, tears mingling with sweat on his face. "I can't... I won't leave you," he whispered fiercely, his grip tightening despite the pain.

Adam's heart twisted with a mixture of gratitude and frustration. He wanted to fight back, to protect this man who was risking everything for him.

The beast's roar echoed in the distance, drawing closer with each passing moment. Adam closed his eyes, a silent prayer on his lips, as he braced himself for whatever came next.

Then, he felt it—the power that surpassed any he had ever felt.


True Might incarnate.

The ground above shattered and parted as a massive pillar of light descended, clearing the darkness. A being, six-winged and surrounded by flames, rushed down like a meteor.

The air crackled with energy as the figure landed with a thunderous impact, radiating an aura of divine authority. The beast recoiled, its roots and tentacles retracting momentarily in awe and fear. The newcomer's presence filled the clearing with an intense light that banished the shadows, revealing the true scope of the devastation.

Adam blinked, struggling to comprehend the sight before him. The being's wings shimmered with iridescence, each feather glowing with celestial brilliance. Its eyes blazed with righteous fury as it turned towards the abomination, its voice resonating like a symphony of power and grace.

"In the name of the Most High, I reject you!" the divine being declared, a woman's voice carrying a weight that seemed to shake the very foundations of reality.

The beast roared in defiance, tendrils and roots lashing out in a desperate attempt to strike.

"You forget your place," the Golden Warrior warned.

Raising its hand, authorities began to conjure, spiraling into existence a lance—a weapon fashioned before the very concept of weaponry existed. The spear bore a name granted eons after its creation:


the God-Killing Lance, the Spear of Longinus.

The beast, sensing the impending threat, recoiled instinctively. Her form quivered, tendrils retracting as if in fear of the divine wrath about to be unleashed.

It was a spectacle of cosmic proportions—the Golden Warrior, wielding the Spear of Longinus with unwavering purpose, faced the raging abomination. "By the will of the Almighty, I command you to cease," it declared, its voice echoing with divine authority.

"You whore!" the abomination raged, her fury manifesting in a frenzied onslaught of spells and attacks summoned from the depths of her corrupted essence.

Undeterred, the Golden Warrior descended like a divine avenger, the air crackling with energy as the attacks detonated and exploded around them and did nothing to halt the Golden Warrior's relentless descent.

With a swift and precise movement, the Golden Warrior thrust the Spear of Longinus forward, the lance piercing through the chaos with a blinding flash of light. The spear, imbued with the power to nullify all that defied divine will, struck true against the abomination.

The lance tore through the abomination's throat, pinning her to the ground with divine precision. The creature writhed in agony, its grotesque form spasming as it tried to resist the overwhelming force of the celestial weapon. The Golden Warrior uttered a single, commanding word:

"Still."

With that command, the ground beneath the abomination began to shatter and break apart. From the depths of the veil, ancient chains forged from the essence of creation itself rose, serpentine and unyielding. They coiled around the abomination, binding it in an unbreakable grip.

The creature's struggles grew more frantic as the chains tightened, dragging it back into the abyss from whence it came. Its screams of rage and despair echoed through the clearing, but they were swiftly drowned out by the sound of the chains clinking and tightening.

The Golden Warrior watched with steely resolve as the abomination was pulled deeper into the earth, its form gradually disappearing into the void. The ground sealed itself with a final, thunderous crash, and the world seemed to exhale in relief.

The Seal was fixed.

For now.

The Golden Warrior turned her helmet in Adam's direction, the weapon in her arms dissipating as she came closer.

"It has been much time since we've last met, Man of Men," the Golden Warrior greeted gently. "It is joyous to have you back among us."

Adam turned to his savior for an explanation about the Golden Warrior's identity, only to find himself sitting alone in the clearing. The man was nowhere to be seen.

A shame, he wished to thank him.

He returned his gaze to the Golden Warrior. "I'm sorry, my mind is a bit jumbled at the moment. I do not recall someone like you, Valkyrie."

"Valkyrie?" The Golden Warrior tilted her head, face hidden behind her helmet. She raised her gloved hand to her helmet and made a contemplative noise. "I guess that title does fit me."

The helmet parted, and the woman's face was revealed to him. Adam's eyes widened as he saw golden locks framing a surprisingly youthful face. "It is me, old friend, Michael."

Adam merely continued to stare with wide eyes, his hand unconsciously rising toward her before he closed his eyes and lowered it. "Apologies. It doesn't ring a bell."

The woman merely shook her head, a bright smile on her face. "Think nothing of it. I am aware that your mind is still recovering at the moment."

Her face fell as she said, "I am aware of why you came to Hell."

Adam quickly tried to rise to his feet, only to nearly collapse before the Valkyrie grabbed hold of him. "Eve? Do you know where Eve is?" His voice was urgent, almost desperate.

The Valkyrie's hold tightened comfortingly. She understood his frustration, but for now, they needed to focus on making sure he was healed. "Adam, you must rest and regain your strength. We can't—"

Adam ignored her request and repeated his question, his voice breaking as he pleaded, "Please, tell me where she is. I need to find her."

Michael sighed, her expression a mix of empathy and concern. "Adam, Eve is...I will explain everything. You need to trust me. For now, I need you to return with me to Heaven."

Adam's eyes burned. "I can't rest until I know she's safe."

"Adam, I understand. I swear in the Lord's name that I will withhold no information about her from you," the woman pleaded with him. "But for now, we must return to Heaven. Your children are waiting for you."

Adam hesitated, the weight of her words sinking in. His heart ached with the need to find Eve, but the mention of his children tugged at his resolve. He knew they needed him too, perhaps now more than ever.

"Very well," he relents. "And thank you."

Michael smiled. "Of course. Shall we?" She unfurled her six wings and rose into the air. After a moment, she glanced back. "Aren't you coming?"

Adam sighed, "Unfortunately, I have no energy to use Gravity magic at the moment."

Michael tilted her head. "What about your wings?"

"Wings?" Adam echoed, tilting his head in confusion.

She floated back down, her eyes widening as she looked at his back. He had no wings. Her gaze snapped back to his head. No halo.

"Adam," she said softly, a hint of alarm in her voice, "you have no wings, no halo. What happened to you?"

"I never had wings or a halo," Adam stated with a raised eyebrow.

Michael's brows furrowed, and she remained silent for a moment before shaking her head. She sent him a bright smile. "Very well. We need to get you back to Heaven immediately. There, we can understand what's happened and how to restore you."

Adam nodded, though worry lingered in his eyes. "Alright, but how do we get there without—"

Michael cut him off, wrapping her arm behind his knees and the other on his back, carrying him in a bridal carry.

Adam stared at her.

She stared at Adam.

Adam's hand settled on her shoulder, and he nodded.

Michael flew upwards, and as she did, Adam couldn't help but study her features. She was taller than him, with a heart-shaped face, a short nose, and delicate flowers woven into her flowing golden hair. Her presence was both comforting and unsettling.

The similarities were undeniable, yet the differences were a constant reminder of what he had lost. The way her hair glinted in the light, the softness of her touch, even the way she carried him—it all echoed with the memories of someone else. It was a mockery of his deepest desires.

The eyes were different—Emerald instead of sky blue.

He knew that this was hell, but...


This was simply way too cruel.

Chapter Text

The Almighty's curse tore Roo asunder,

Her core, once whole, ripped apart,

Fragments scattered, a broken essence.

Once, IT had been the Garden's foundation,

Now, Roo was the structure itself.

Ground down, transformed into Hell.

The realm of the damned.

The Almighty's decree echoed through creation.

The Flawed and the Failed Second cast down.

Plummeting into the abyss, into Roo.

Hell, their eternal prison.

Fear, palpable, all-consuming.

The Flawed tried to shield the Failed Second.

No use, their efforts in vain.

The Taxiarch, her lance gleaming with divine authority.

The One Who Heals, embodying relentless wrath.

They descended upon the fallen.

The Flawed, torn apart.

Limb by limb, the Taxiarch's fury unleashed.

Reshaped, stripped of power.

His authority, a distant memory.

His blessing, revoked.

His name, erased from existence.

The Failed Second, crashing into Hell's core.

Begging, thrashing in desperation.

The One Who Heals, merciless.

Pinning her down, relentless.

Ripping her body open.

His hand, grasping her organs.

Twisting, sealing, cursing.

Agony, raw and unending.

Her cries, a symphony of despair.

Roo, the structure of their torment.

An eldritch maze, void and fragmented.

The Flawed and the Failed Second, prisoners of their sins.

Their punishment, an eternal testament.

To the wrath of the Almighty.

And the inexorable fate of the damned.

Her essence, a labyrinth of torment.

Thoughts, shattered, barely coherent.

Eldritch whispers in the void.

Existence, a flickering consciousness.

Lost in the abyss of her being.

Clinging to fleeting connections.

Tree of Knowledge, Good and Evil.

Remnants of power, whispers of the past.

A lifeline, tenuous and fragile.

Eve, a fading connection.

A whisper, a thread.

Keeping her from devolving back to it.

Paradox of existence.

Fragments and void.

Identity, slipping into oblivion.

Hell, her eternal prison.

The Almighty's wrath, all-encompassing.

Roo's struggle, eternal.

More than the void, an echo.

Barely coherent, but still Roo.

Regret.

Betrayed Eve, lingering shadow.

Essence, tainted and torn.

Shame, turned against beloved.

Hurt Adam, pain like a blade.

Regret.

Pain's echoes, resonating,

Through void corridors within.

Roo, once desiring and hungry,

Now swallowed by guilt, sorrow.

Hatred, festering,

Towards Heaven, angels, the Flawed, the Failed Second,

The Almighty, source of all torment.

Hatred, growing, twisting,

An all-consuming fire.

Heaven's light, a searing glare.

Angels, their purity, a mocking lie.

The Flawed, a betrayer,

The Failed Second, a usurper.

The Almighty, distant and uncaring,

The architect of her agony.

Anger, a dark tide,

Rising, engulfing,

No end, no release,

Only endless torment,

An eternity of Rage.

And for the first time, Roo loathed

In the capital of the Sloth ring, thousands of kilometers from the epicenter, as the Root of All Evil receded, the Taxiarch and the First Man were sent back to Heaven. Hell exhaled a collective breath, the tension easing.

The sky over the city was a soft pink, with floating islands and violet clouds gently moving, contrasting with the somber atmosphere below. The streets, lined with towering buildings and bustling with cars, began to show signs of life again. The inhabitants, Hellborn consisting of Baphomets, Possessors, and Imps, slowly emerged from hiding.

Hospitals, renowned throughout Hell for their unparalleled medical care, were overwhelmed with the injured and the traumatized. Doctors and nurses, efficient and tireless, moved through the chaos, tending to those in need.

In the grandest of hospitals, the Somnus Sanctum, the scene was no different—bustling and chaotic. In the grandest of rooms, Belphegor cursed as she tried her damnedest to keep her cool while inspecting the state the rulers of Hell were reduced to, locked in spheres of cursed water, keeping whatever little threads connected them to the underworld alive.

While out of the so-called rulers of Hell, she was the most capable in healing, their state was just a tad bit too complicated for her. And the less said about Lucifer, the better.

For now, she did what she could to keep them away from its jaws.

Broken bones and torn flesh she could fix, but conceptual injuries and fractured souls... that was someone else's specialty.

And speaking of the idiot.

Space twisted and reality warped grandiosely as a body materialized and slammed into the operating table, crashing it. The body's red colors receded, and horns disappeared as the glamour spell wore off, leaving in its place a human.

The man groaned, gingerly moving his body and letting out a crude cough as blood seeped through his clothes and from his throat, numerous wounds, broken bones, and gaping holes in his flesh evident. He tried to push himself upwards, only for his head to slam into the ground with a crack, as Belphegor stood over him with her fist raised. "You bloody moron! Dumbass! Pig-headed brat!"

"You've managed to get yourself torn to pieces again!" Belphegor spat, her voice a mix of frustration and concern. the Sin f sloth raised her foot and began stomping on his body."Do you have any idea how worried I was? You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"I appreciate... your concern," Cain replied, his voice strained but grateful. "Even if you do have a funny way of showing it."

Belphegor huffed in annoyance as she leaned down and helped prop him against the wall. "For Hell's sake, you can't just go around making the Embodiment of Sloth spend energy worrying. Are you trying to make me unfall?"

"Well, you know me. Always finding a way to disappoint," Cain chuckled weakly.

Belphegor didn't laugh at his self-deprecating joke. "Don't say that," she said firmly, her tone tinged with worry and genuine concern. "You're not a disappointment."

"Nah, I am. Wouldn't be down here if I wasn't," Cain groaned as his spine set itself back together.

Belphegor's brows furrowed. "I'm down here too, y'know. So, does that make me a disappointment?"

"Of course. Hall of Fame class loser," Cain answered easily before a surprised look came on his face. "Wait, you never realized—Ow!"

Belphegor smacked him on the head repeatedly. "Asshole! You're supposed to say nice things to me. You should never say mean things to a lady!"

"But it's the truth."

"Especially if it's the truth!"

"Okay, okay, I get it. Stop," Cain relented, putting his arms up to protect his head from her assault. "And stop hitting me, I'm in enough pain as it is."

"Well, it's not like you're going to die."

"Then why were you even worried about me?"

"Because against that monstrosity, death is considered a mercy, dumdum," Belphegor's hands grabbed his cheeks and pulled, her fingers digging into his skin. Cain winced at the pressure, but her touch was surprisingly gentle. She let go of his face, and as her grip relaxed, an expression of genuine concern replaced the previous annoyance in her eyes.

"Seriously, what were you thinking?" Belphegor's voice softened slightly.

"I had to..., I didn't want to lose another dear person because of my mistake," Cain admitted, his eyes dropping as he struggled to focus on Belphegor's face. " I couldn't let him be lost... not like that."

Belphegor knelt beside him, her demeanor softened by genuine concern. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension in his muscles. "You risked everything to save him, Cain. You made me worried but... it's not a mistake to care." She sighed, her fingers gently tracing on his arm. "I know it's hard, carrying the weight of your past and your mistakes."

Cain's shoulders sagged as he closed his eyes, exhaustion weighing heavily on him. "I just wish..."

"What?" Belphegor prompted softly.

"That things could be different," Cain murmured, his voice barely audible. "That I could undo... everything."

Belphegor gently grabbed his head, letting her forehead rest against his. "We all wish that, Cain."

Cain nodded, a sense of resignation settling over him. "Yeah, I guess so."

Silence enveloped them for a moment, the weight of their conversation hanging in the air. Belphegor's arms wrapped around him gently, offering what little comfort she could in Hell's unforgiving realm.

"You were shaking," Belphegor said quietly, her voice barely audible over the distant hum of the city.

"Yeah," Cain replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "I was terrified he would recognize me."

Belphegor's grip tightened slightly. "But he didn't, did he?"

"No, the glamour spell hid my true self, and his condition was so bad that he couldn't see through it."" Cain sighed, his gaze distant. "He didn't. And for a moment, I felt... relieved. But then the guilt set in. I shouldn't have to hide from him, but I do. So, I tried to keep it together. You...you know what he did it?"

Belphegor tightened her arms around him. "What did he do, Cain?"

"He thanked me," Cain's voice cracked, his composure beginning to unravel. "He looked at me, not knowing who I was, and he thanked me. As if I were some good Samaritan who saved him, not—" His words choked off, tears welling in his eyes.

"His eldest son." Belphegor finished.

Cain struggled to continue, his words catching in his throat. "Yes," he finally managed, the admission bitter on his tongue. "Not his son who betrayed him."

Belphegor's embrace tightened around him, her own emotions stirred by his raw confession. "Cain, it's not easy," she murmured, her voice a mix of empathy and resignation. "But hiding won't lighten your burden. He is your father. Whatever happened, you'll always be his boy."

"That's the problem," Cain yelled, his voice cracking with anguish. "I want him to hate me, to despise me, to curse me. That would make it so much easier. The possibility that he doesn't... scares me."

Cain's voice trembled with the weight of centuries-old guilt and remorse, barely audible as he spoke. "If he doesn't hate me," he began, his words slow and heavy with emotion, "it means facing the terrifying possibility that I will hurt him again."

His eyes, haunted by memories etched deep into his soul, sought solace in Belphegor's understanding gaze. "I killed my brother," Cain confessed, each syllable laced with the searing pain of regret. "I struck down Abel in a fit of jealousy and rage, staining my hands with his blood and my heart with irreparable sorrow."

He paused, his breath catching as the vivid images of that tragic day played out in his mind. "And my mother," Cain continued, his voice trembling with remorse, "I brought upon her a curse that transformed her into an abomination. Her grief and despair were my doing, a wound that festers in my soul."

Belphegor listened in solemn silence, her presence a gentle anchor amidst the storm of his confession.

"I cursed humanity," Cain's voice cracked with sorrow, his fists clenching at his sides in anguish. "I unleashed suffering and discord upon the world, violence that echoes through generations."

His words faltered, emotion threatening to overwhelm him. "If he forgives me," Cain whispered, the words barely escaping his lips, "it means facing the reality that forgiveness does not erase the past. It means accepting that I may still be capable of causing pain, of repeating the same mistakes that have defined my existence."

Cain looked up, desperation etched in every line of his face. "His forgiveness would mean acknowledging that I carry within me the capacity to hurt him again," he admitted his voice a fragile thread of vulnerability. "That despite my remorse, despite my longing for redemption, I cannot undo the irreversible harm I have caused."

"I have lived with the consequences of my actions," Cain continued, his voice now tinged with resignation. "I have borne the guilt of my sins, believing I deserved every ounce of his anger and condemnation. His forgiveness would mean facing the reality that my repentance may not be enough to absolve me of the pain I've caused."

Belphegor's embrace offered solace, a silent presence amidst his tumultuous emotions.

"If he forgives me, it means that he still has hopes for me," Cain whispered, the weight of his confession hanging heavily in the air. "I cannot bear the thought of failing him again. To see hope in his eyes, only to watch it shattered by my own shortcomings... it terrifies me more than anything."

After a long moment of emotional confession, Cain gently withdrew from Belphegor's embrace, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his words. He wiped away the last traces of tears, silently gathering himself against the storm of emotions swirling inside him.

Sensing his need for space, Belphegor respected the quietude, allowing Cain the time to collect his thoughts. The air between them hung heavy with unspoken understanding, both keenly aware of the depth of Cain's turmoil and the weight of his revelations.

As the silence stretched on, Cain drew in a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "Thank you," he managed to say, his voice rough with emotion but clearer than before. "For listening, for being here."

Belphegor nodded gently, her expression soft with empathy. "You don't have to carry this burden alone,"

he gazed at Belphegor with a mixture of exhaustion and gratitude. "I guess I thought I could handle it," he murmured, his voice hoarse. "I underestimated... everything."

"You always do," she muttered, more to herself than to him. "Stubborn idiot."

Cain managed a faint smile. "Someone's gotta keep you on your toes, right?"

"Maybe," she finally conceded, her voice quiet. "But you don't have to do it like this. Getting yourself torn apart is not the only way to prove your worth."

Cain's smile faded slightly, replaced by a pensive expression. He knew Belphegor cared in her own way, despite her rough exterior. She was one of the few who bothered to show concern, albeit in her unique, abrasive manner.

"I'll keep that in mind... for next time," he murmured, his eyes drifting closed momentarily.

Belphegor exhaled sharply through her nose, a gesture of exasperation mixed with a hint of affection. She reached out tentatively, resting a hand on his shoulder with surprising gentleness.

"Just... try not to make 'next time' too soon," she said softly, her tone almost pleading.

"I understand."

Now then...

Slowly, Cain scanned the grand operation room where they stood, dimly lit by the eerie glow of the water spheres. Each sphere held the broken bodies of Hell's rulers, suspended in a delicate state meant for regeneration.

With his body stitched back together, Cain rose from his seated position on the floor and began to stride purposefully toward the center of the room, Belphegor following closely behind.

"Their bodies should start healing soon, but their souls..." Belphegor's voice trailed off as she motioned towards the spheres with concern.

Cain nodded solemnly, tampering with souls was something he was all too familiar with. But for now, those four could wait.

Moving deliberately past the water spheres, Cain approached the most severely injured. Unlike the Sins encased in cursed water for stability, this one's condition was too fragile for any disturbance.

Coming up to Lucifer's sphere, Cain beheld the shattered form of the once-mighty ruler of Hell. Limbs torn, wings ripped, flesh rent, bones shattered, Lucifer's body resembled less of a recognizable form and more of a grotesque golden mass, frozen in a temporal limbo.

Yet, as bad as the flesh was, the soul's state was even more dire.

Cain observed the soul before him, its essence shattered into countless fragments. Each shard, once part of a unified whole, now lay scattered like shards of a broken mirror. The soul's integrity had been irreparably compromised by relentless assaults on its essence and intent, leaving behind a chaotic mosaic devoid of cohesion. As Cain surveyed the wreckage, he couldn't help but recognize the profound extent of the damage.

His father's intentions went far beyond mere destruction; Adam sought to eradicate Lucifer's soul from existence itself.

A thousand paths unfurled. 

A thousand paths converged. 

A thousand intersections intertwined. 

Through these roads, he wandered aimlessly.

Cain, burdened with his unique gift—or curse—of foresight, saw a complex web of a thousand paths unfolding. Each path was a different choice, weaving together in intricate patterns. He searched for the right path to heal the shattered soul before him. His power wasn't all-knowing, but it gave him glimpses into possible outcomes.

"Cain..." Belphegor's voice was gentle behind him. Cain made a thoughtful noise as he assessed the broken form before him. "The Sins are one thing, but... healing Lucifer... I understand if you don't."

Cain let out a hollow laugh. He hated the creature in front of him, but he knew that allowing his emotions to interfere with his actions would render everything he had done meaningless.

"We don't have the luxury of hesitation," Cain replied evenly, his gaze fixed on the fragmented essence before him. "Lucifer's role is crucial. We must ensure that even in this state, he can fulfill his purpose."

Full recovery was impossible.

Resigned to the limits of his abilities, he resolved to salvage enough essence to fulfill the semblance of "Lucifer." Methodically, he gathered and reconstructed fragments, aiming not for restoration but for a semblance that could fulfill its intended purpose.

To Lucifer, the sweet release of death was still unattainable.

Adam strode through the encompassing darkness, each deliberate step echoing softly against the retreating shadows. As he walked, the veil of obscurity began to lift, revealing a scene of breathtaking grandeur that unfolded before him.

He turned his gaze down, surprised to see his body transformed—pale skin, lean muscles, and blond hair—reminiscent of his primeval form.

How? He didn't know. He simply walked.

"Where is this?" he wondered, his senses captivated by the ethereal surroundings. Gradually, the silhouette of towering trees emerged, their branches adorned with leaves that shimmered like emeralds under the soft, silvery glow of unseen moonlight. Flowers of every hue carpeted the ground in a vibrant tapestry, their fragrance mingling delicately in the cool, perfumed air.

It was a garden, beautiful beyond comparison. Streams of crystal-clear water cascaded down from moss-covered rocks, creating gentle melodies that harmonized with the rustling of leaves in a symphony of nature's creation. Butterflies flitted gracefully from blossom to blossom, their wings painted with the colors of dawn and dusk.

Adam paused, a sense of awe and wonder filling his heart as he realized how he had come to this place—a place that seemed to exist outside of time and space. It was as if he had been drawn here by some unseen force, guided by whispers of ancient secrets and forgotten truths.

The garden was familiar.

Was it Eve's Garden? No, it was before that.

Valhalla? For a moment, he considered it, but then he knew better. This was a place from a time even before that.

He remembered—the place where he was made.

The Garden of Eden.

As Adam walked further, he noticed familiar landmarks—the Tree of Life towering majestically in the center, its branches reaching towards the heavens, and the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, its forbidden fruit now just a distant temptation. Birds of every feather sang melodious tunes, and animals moved with grace and harmony in the verdant paradise.

He found himself at the banks of a serene river, its waters clear and reflective. Leaning down, he saw his own reflection—a face weathered by time, yet now restored to its original likeness. It was a surreal moment of reunion with himself, a reminder of the innocence and purity that once defined his existence in this idyllic sanctuary.

A soft breeze rustled through the leaves, carrying with it whispers of ancient wisdom and the promise of a new beginning. Adam closed his eyes, breathing in the essence of the Garden, feeling a deep gratitude for this unexpected return to the place where his story began.

"As if." Adam scoffed, his Essence flared.

[Eyes of the Lord]

In an instant, the tranquil Garden of Eden began to deteriorate before his eyes. The vibrant blooms wilted and turned to ash, their once-sweet fragrance replaced by a foul, rotting odor that hung heavy in the air. The crystal-clear streams darkened, swirling with debris and carrying whispers of ancient curses.

Trees twisted and contorted, their leaves shriveling into skeletal remnants. The sky above, once serene and bathed in celestial light, darkened with ominous storm clouds that churned with unnatural fury. The symphony of nature's harmony twisted into dissonant echoes, haunting and unsettling.

Adam's Eyes of the Lord blazed with an intensity that matched the turmoil surrounding him. With each passing moment, the pristine sanctuary of life's origins crumbled and decayed, revealing the harsh reality beneath its facade of perfection.

The chirps of birds transformed into hollowed wailings that echoed mournfully through the desolation. The once-lively creatures of the garden now morphed into skeletal corpses, their bodies entwined in chains that clinked ominously with each movement. Their empty eye sockets bore into Adam, radiating a mix of resentment and a strange, haunting warmth that chilled him to the bone.

They were the remains of humans.

Cold fury coursed through his veins like a torrent of ice-cold fire, ignited by the sight before him. These were not just lifeless husks but the remnants of his own kind, his descendants twisted and bound in chains of suffering and despair.

Adam's jaw clenched, his usually calm demeanor giving way to a simmering rage. How dare someone defile the sanctity of their resting place, desecrating their souls with chains that dragged them down?

Each skeletal form bore the marks of agony and betrayal, their empty eye sockets accusingly fixed upon Adam as if pleading for justice. The air around him crackled with a palpable tension, as if the very garden itself echoed his fury.

Adam's eyes fixed upon the chains that bound their skeletal forms, dragging them inexorably downward, contorting their bodies into grotesque, twisted shapes. Countless chains, like spectral tendrils, all converged towards a singular direction. He followed them instinctively, drawn by an unseen force.

Of course.

The shitty apple tree.

Each step toward the ancient tree was met with a chilling presence that permeated the air—an unsettling mixture of despair and malevolence. The souls reached out to him with skeletal hands, their hollow gazes fixed upon Adam, filled with longing and a silent plea for release.

As he approached the gnarled trunk of the tree, the faint murmur that had haunted the garden grew into a cacophony of whispers. Voices of the damned echoed through his mind, a chorus of anguish and malice.

A mantra of destruction. Kill. Destroy. Cleanse.

The tree loomed overhead, its branches writhing like serpents, bearing apples that pulsed with an otherworldly glow. Each fruit seemed to hold within it a universe of knowledge and torment, tempting yet horrifying.

Adam stood before this nexus of forbidden knowledge, unfazed by the eldritch horrors that surrounded him. The air crackled with dark energy, and shadows seemed to dance with a life of their own, whispering secrets that should have remained buried.

"Kill. Destroy. Cleanse."

The words echoed louder now, reverberating through the twisted branches and into Adam's very soul. He remained stoic. he was too old to be scared by the poor horror show of a bored god.

With a calm determination, Adam reached out towards the nearest apple, fingers brushing against its smooth surface.

"I can see you," Adam stated as he crushed the apple in his hand.

Immediately, a massive, distorted body manifested before him, dripping with black goo. It was an amalgam of flesh and bones, twisted in grotesque anguish, its features exaggerated and contorted with rage. The abomination let out a blood-curdling scream and lunged at Adam with primal fury.

"Not enough! Return! Kill him! Destroy! Maim! Slaughter him! He's still alive!" it screamed incoherently, its voice echoing with torment and hatred.

Adam remained composed, his Eyes of the Lord burning bright as he faced this embodiment of chaos and despair. With a swift motion, he raised his hand, and a wave of pure essence surged forth, pushing back the creature with a force that rattled the very foundations of the garden.

"Why did you stop?! He's still alive! Make him pay! Kill them all!" The creature's voice reverberated with absolute waves of bloodlust and rage, enough to drive a lesser man mad. Yet, amidst its fury, there was an unsettling plea that seemed directed elsewhere, not at Adam.

Adam stood firm, his confusion tempered by the realization that the creature's madness was not aimed at him but at some unseen target beyond. The garden around them trembled with the intensity of its demands, the air thick with an oppressive weight of ancient grievances and unrelenting fury.

"Kill him! Kill them all!" The creature's cries intensified, its form pulsating with malevolent energy as it thrashed against Adam's resolve. But Adam remained unmoved, his Eyes of the Lord glowing fiercely as he confronted the embodiment of primal chaos.

He approached the twisted entity cautiously, recognizing that it was not a mere beast or creature, but a tortured soul—a human soul consumed by anguish and rage.

As Adam drew closer, the creature's claws and appendages lashed out in a frenzied attempt to strike him down. Ignoring the onslaught, Adam pressed forward until he was within arm's reach. With a decisive movement, he reached out and touched the creature's form.

Darkness enveloped him as Adam delved into the depths of the tortured soul. Despite the chaos and tumult, he remained resolute, guided by the echoes of voices that transitioned from curses to anguished pleas.

Before long, he confronted the source of the torment—a human soul, or rather, the shade of a man. This figure towered over Adam, larger and taller, fair-skinned with dark brown hair, hunched and weary, his golden eyes glaring with dark circles underneath.

"Why did you stop?! Return! He's still fucking alive! Kill him! Kill Lucifer! Rip him and his whore apart!" The man's voice echoed with bitterness and rage, his words filled with raw emotion that reverberated through the darkness.

He was wounded.

He bled gold.

"Kill them!" the shade growled, his form flickering with static and anger.

In that moment, a sense of enlightenment coursed through Adam's core. Amidst the tumultuous cries for vengeance, he discerned three profound truths.

First, it was this very shade that had summoned him from the Aether, calling upon his essence with desperate fury.

Second, without needing to ask, Adam knew the identity of this tormented soul.

Adam's palm landed on the shade's flickering form.

Calm

"Young man, I have some questions for you."

Third, Adam was very confused.

Chapter Text

In the Second Heaven, Raki'a, the realm of "The Heart of God" Raphael, the Archangels gathered, bathed in a radiant, heavenly glow.

For the first time in centuries, the realm of the living stood whole, shining in the pure light of divine unity.

For the first time in centuries, the aether was clear, letting the pure essence of life flow freely.

For the first time in millennia, the oppressive rule of Hell was broken, its dark influence retreating from the strengthened heavens.

Nearly five days had passed since the First Man bravely ventured into Hell and emerged victorious, though not without scars.

Now, suspended in the air, the First Man's form lay separated into flesh, soul, and essence. Raphael, the Archangel of Healing, focused his divine energy on healing the Lord's greatest creation, weaving patterns of celestial light around him.

Sera, the High Seraphim, lifted her head and looked at her gathered siblings. In this rare moment, they stood united, their auras blending into a harmonious chorus of heavenly beings.

The air shimmered with a holy luminescence, casting long shadows that danced with echoes of ancient wisdom and unfaltering resolve. Each Archangel radiated a distinct brilliance, their focus centered on Raphael's intricate work and the delicate state of Adam's form.

Haniel, the First Angel upon whom all others were based, sat in solemn silence. With her eyes closed in deep meditation and hands clasped in a gesture of reverence, she radiated an aura of creation. Her connection to the very essence of life was palpable as she silently prayed for Adam's healing and renewal. Grounding the sacred process with her ancient wisdom, her presence was a foundation of divine strength.

Standing with crossed arms, a serene yet commanding presence, Gabriel, the Messenger of God, focused intently on the ethereal form of Adam. His role was to interpret the celestial messages embedded within Adam's essence, ensuring that every nuance was understood. Providing clarity and guidance in the unfolding divine plan, a plan that they knew nothing about.

Judging from the slowly developing frown of his brow, Seraphiel doubted her other half had found anything concrete.

Maintaining a vigilant stance, Zadkiel, the Archangel of Mercy, scanned the First Man with compassionate eyes. His focus encompassed Adam's entire being, from body to soul. Ensuring that every act of healing and forgiveness was infused with divine compassion, making sure Adam remained sound asleep, oblivious to the tearing and reshaping of his being, and allowing Raphael to focus his attention on solely restoring.

Not too far from her brother, Raguel, the Archangel of Justice, stood tall with an aura of unwavering righteousness. Her sharp gaze was fixed on maintaining balance and order within the idea of 'Adam'. With meticulous scrutiny, Raguel ensured that all three parts- Body, Soul, and Mind- were in perfect harmony. her presence served as a beacon of balance, upholding the principles of divine law and ensuring that any influence or residues of Roo left from their brief encounter were swiftly removed.

Lastly, Michael, the Taxiarch, adorned in resplendent golden armor, stood with her hand resting gently on the pommel of her sword. She exuded an aura of authority and protection, her focus on safeguarding the sanctity of the divine process, and protecting the Lord's Blessing to the First Man.

Adam's eyes, suspended in a glass container, were submerged in the blessed Waters of Bethesda.

Michael's role was to shield Adam's journey through healing and restoration from any outside interference, ensuring that nothing disrupted the sacred work being performed.

None spoke.

The atmosphere was thick with a shared unspoken understanding and purpose, each Archangel's presence a vital part of the whole. Just like it had been Ten thousand years ago.

Seraphiel's gaze took their dedication, and she couldn't help but nod in approval. Truly, these Six epitomized all that was expected of Archangels.

On the other side of the room, however, the scene was markedly different.

 Seraphiel observed with a twitching brow as some of the other angels seemed entirely too relaxed, not giving the divine task nearly the reverence and respect it deserved.

Barely paying attention to Raphael's work, Jophiel and Chamuel were occupied with cradling Lute in their arms, petting and doting while the exorcist tried to break free without causing offense.

Her sisters surrounded Lute, looking less like the proud Archangels they were and more like two schoolgirls fawning over a kitten.

Jophiel's warm smile beamed as she gently embraced Lute, pulling her into a snug embrace, nearly squeezing the breath out of her. "Oh, look at those precious eyes! You're absolutely adorable!" she exclaimed joyfully, her voice brimming with genuine adoration as she ran her fingers through the exorcist's hair. "I hope that mean Sera is not giving you a hard time."

Lute sputtered, trying to maintain her composure. "N-not at all, Your Holiness," she managed, her voice strained but respectful.

Chamuel, not wanting to be left out, gently mushed Lute's cheeks, her fingers tender and affectionate. "You're just the cutest thing, my little feather," she cooed, hugging Lute into her chest, nearly choking her with affection. "I could just gobble you up!"

"T-Thank you, Your Holiness," Lute's voice was strained, a blush coming up on her face.

The Angel of Love beamed at her. "And she's so polite!"

Sera watched the scene unfold with a mixture of disappointment and mild irritation. For the sake of her sanity, she pretended not to see the pleading look Lute sent her and turned away. The exorcist's struggle continued as Jophiel and Chamuel remained oblivious to her discomfort.

What she saw was even more disappointing.

Uriel stood uncomfortably close to Cassiel, self-satisfaction and amusement rolling from his form even with the mask on his face. His finger hovered mere millimeters from Cassiel's face, darting in and out like an annoying mosquito.

Cassiel's patience was wearing thin, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. "Seriously, cut it out!" he snapped, his voice a low growl.

Uriel chuckled softly, enjoying the rise he was getting out of Cassiel. "Cut what out, Junior?" he feigned innocence, his tone dripping with mischief.

"I swear, Uriel, I will break your finger," Cassiel threatened, his voice tinged with frustration.

Uriel's grin widened, undeterred by Cassiel's warning. "You can try," he teased, his voice laced with playful defiance. "But remember, I'm not even touching you."

Cassiel's jaw tightened further, his temper flaring. He took a deliberate step back, trying to regain his cool composure. "You're beyond insufferable," he muttered through gritted teeth, his irritation palpable.

Uriel shrugged casually, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Maybe just a smidge," he admitted, his grin unapologetic.

"Uriel..." Sera called out to him tiredly.

"I'm not doing anything!" Uriel protested innocently

Sera sighed heavily and turned away, choosing to ignore Uriel's antics for the sake of her own peace of mind.

Emily and Azrael sat together in a cozy corner, playing pate-a-cake. Emily's excitement bubbled over as she animatedly recounted her day. Though at this point, it seemed that Azrael simply kept her palm up, and let Emilt let do all the playing.

"Okay, Azrael, oh my gosh, guess what happened today!" Emily exclaimed, clapping her hands together eagerly. "I met this Winner, Lysander, and he was like, the nicest person ever! He took me to this garden, Azrael, oh my wings, it was like... like stepping into a fairy tale! Flowers everywhere, glowing like little stars!"

Azrael nodded, her expression calm. "That sounds lovely."

"Wait, Azrael, you don't get it! These flowers, they sang! Well, not really sang, but they shimmered, and it was like they were whispering secrets to me," Emily rambled on, her eyes wide with excitement. "And then, and then, I saw this flock of heavenborn, they were like... flying, Azrael, flying in circles and making these beautiful patterns in the sky!"

Azrael smiled gently, nodding along. "That's nice."

"Oh, it was! And then, Azrael, listen, I met this little Winner, Milo, and oh my halos, he was hilarious," Emily continued, barely pausing for breath. "He kept telling these jokes, and they were so bad, but I couldn't stop laughing! He's like a little comedian up there! oh, and then, he-"

She smiled warmly as she looked at the younger Seraphim, admiring her innocence and joy. She wished to preserve that pure happiness for a little while longer, but...

"We are tools. Nothing more, nothing less."

Sooner or later, they would need to speak.

Now, however, there were more urgent matters to take care of.

Raphael's hands dropped, the First Man's body reconnected, and all levity left the room. As one, the archangels straightened up.

Raphael's voice, deep and resonant, filled the chamber with a commanding presence. "Adam's physical form has been restored," he declared, his words carrying the weight of divine authority. As he spoke, the Archangels' focused gazes shifted to the now-mended body before them. The flesh appeared whole once more, seamlessly knitting itself together, yet an unmistakable sense of incompleteness lingered.

"His eyes did not join the body," Michael spoke, looking down at the pair of eyes still swimming unchanged in blessed water.

"And his soul remains suspended in the air." Sera pointed out at the burning flame still hovering in the air.

"Precisely. Yet, my announcement still rings true. the body that belongs to Adam has been repaired." Raphael continued with a sigh, "But the soul..."

"...will not connect," Raguel finished, his expression troubled as he looked towards the flickering flames representing the First Man's soul.

Emily, her expression anxious, spoke up. "What does that mean?"

"It means," Uriel began solemnly as he stepped forward, pointing towards the soul suspended in the air, "that the soul doesn't recognize the body as its own." He then gestured towards Adam's physical form. "And the body," he continued, shifting his gaze to the mended body, "...doesn't recognize the soul as its own."

Gabriel, nodding in understanding, added, "They are out of sync with each other."

Raphael, his brow furrowed in concern, interjected, "This discordance between body and soul poses a significant challenge."

Jophiel's brow furrowed as she voiced her hypothesis, "Perhaps the prolonged separation between Adam's body and soul has caused this. It has been unoccupied for over two weeks, after all."

"In a regular corpse, yes. But this is an angel's body. It wouldn't have rotted or deteriorated in the usual sense." Cassiel returned from his position.

Chamuel leaned forward, her brow furrowed in deep contemplation. "True, but consider this: even though it's an angel's body, there's more to decay than just physical decomposition. The body is delicate and intricate. Perhaps the prolonged separation has disrupted that harmony."

Zadkiel shook his head."It must be the soul. If it was an issue of the body deteriorating, then the soul would have rushed back the moment Raphael repaired it." He turned toward Azrael. "You said that Adam's soul never passed through the Aether."

Azrael nodded in agreement, her voice soft. "It did not."

Cassiel crossed his arms, his brow furrowed in contemplation. "So, we are considering that the soul could be compromised. Roo's influence?"

Raguel shook her head. "Couldn't be. There is no trace of it. Of that, we're absolutely certain."

"Trauma, perhaps?" Uriel suggested. "Emotions linger even post-mortem. Considering the way he passed away and his history, Adam's soul may very well still carry unresolved regrets."

Azrael spoke softly, her gaze fixed on the suspended soul. "And without passing through the Aether, Adam's soul hasn't undergone the necessary purification and reconnection."

From her position between Jophiel's arms, Lute spoke up anxiously. "B-but why didn't Adam's soul pass through the Aether in the first place?"

Chamuel gently squeezed Lute's shoulder, offering reassurance. "It's possible there was an interruption, something unforeseen that prevented the journey through the Aether."

"It could be due to the Angelic Weapons? This is the first time a Heaven-born soul was actually slain by one," Michael offered, suggesting a possibility.

"But Azrael said she found the souls of the exorcists in there," Emily said timidly. While she had been against the exterminations, she was still heartbroken that her fellow Heaven-born had been killed. The fact that they would return, even if it took time, was very appreciated.

"Heaven-born souls, yes. Adam is a Winner," Michael countered. "It could very well be that human souls react differently. Sinner's souls are destroyed permanently; it wouldn't be odd for the Angelic steel to affect Winners, even if it's to a lesser degree."

"Maybe it's something about the nature of his soul itself," Uriel mused. "After all, Adam is the First Man. There could be unique properties or conditions we've never encountered before."

Azrael nodded. "It could be something inherent to his existence as the First Man, something we don't fully understand."

"Then.... how did his soul get to Heaven the first time?" Emily asked, her voice hesitant.

She noticed how her question seemed to make everyone a bit uncomfortable. For a second, no one seemed willing to answer. Emily turned toward her mentor. "Sera..?"

The High Seraphim let out a sigh and turned to Emily with sad eyes. "We were not allowed to see him back then. After Eden, Roo, and what happened to Abel later on, the Lord did not.... trust us to handle it."

Emily looked around the room, seeing the solemnity on the faces of the other angels. "So, no one here knows how it happened?"

"Precisely," Uriel confirmed, his tone somber. "The details of Adam's first ascension to Heaven were kept from us. The Lord handled it personally. He welcomed Adam to Heaven himself."

"That means we don't have a precedent to follow. We're in uncharted territory." Raguel frowned.

Cassiel rubbed his temples in frustration. "So we're basically flying blind here."

"Not entirely," Chamuel said softly. "We know that Adam's soul did make it to Heaven once. That means it's possible, even if we don't fully understand how. We just need to find the key."

Raguel broke the silence, her tone thoughtful. "So, where does that leave us? Are we leaning towards the issue being with the body or the soul?"

"Both." Haniel, who had been silent the entire time, spoke from her seat.

The other angels turned to her, surprise and curiosity evident in their expressions.

"What do you mean, Sis?" Uriel asked, brow furrowing.

"What Raphael and I have done was mere healing, restoring the body to what it considered its Ideal Form. Yet, his wings and halo, both of which remained after his death, are not present."

"Are you suggesting that the body and soul are both incomplete without those elements?" Jophiel asked. "If that is so, we shall just make new ones for him as we've done to all Winners."

"You misunderstand," Raphael spoke, his back still turned to the rest of them. "They are not missing. The body simply cast them away. The body you see before you has rejected its angelic attributes because Adam's soul has taken on a new form."

"What do you mean?" Cassiel's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Adam has reincarnated as a human once more."

The room fell silent as the weight of Raphael's words sank in.

"Reincarnated?" Seraphiel repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. "But how? Why?"

"And it's not just the body that changed," the first angel continued solemnly. "The soul has changed as well. It's aged."

"Isn't that normal?" Zadkiel questioned, his voice tinged with confusion. "Souls aging is something to be expected. It is how we angels grow and become stronger."

The first angel shook their head slowly. "Not in this manner. When souls are separated from their physical forms, they typically remain dormant in the Tree of Life."

"In Adam's case, that never happened because his soul never passed through the Aether," the Angel of Wisdom lamented. "Now we're faced with not only joining a human body with a divine soul, but also reconciling a two-week temporal difference between the two."

"More," Haniel interjected.

"Haniel?" Seraphiel asked, raising a brow.

"The difference between the soul and the body is more than two weeks."

Jophiel hummed, her hand absentmindedly stroking Lute's hair. "I guess we have to consider the time Raphael spent healing him too, so that makes it what? Nineteen days? Twenty-"

"Six million, nine hundred ninety-one thousand years."

"...Pardon?" Uriel exclaimed, leaning to stare at his older sister.

"Six million, nine hundred ninety-one thousand years."

"Six million, nine hundred ninety-one thousand years?" Uriel repeated, his eyes widening in shock behind his mask. The other angels exchanged stunned glances, struggling to comprehend the enormity of the temporal discrepancy.

"But that's... inconceivable," Zadkiel murmured, his voice barely audible.

"How is that even possible?" Seraphiel whispered, her hand covering her mouth in astonishment.

Haniel nodded solemnly. "It seems that Adam's soul has traversed a considerable span of time while his body remained dead."

"No, no, no! Waiting for Uriel to get out of the toilet is a 'considerable span of time..'"—Junior!?"— "..Seven million years is older than even some of the angels!" Cassiel protested. "How did that even happen?"

"At this point, are we even sure it's Adam's soul?" Raguel added, voicing a question that hung heavy in the air, cutting through the disbelief and confusion that gripped the assembly.

Uriel frowned deeply, contemplating Raguel's question. "It's a valid concern. It seems far too old to be human."

Haniel, ever the voice of reason, shook her head, her brow furrowed in thought. "We've observed his soul, its complexities and characteristics. Despite the age, there are unique resonances that align with the essence we knew as Adam. The soul is undoubtedly Adam's, as is the body."

"But how could his soul have aged so much? What could have caused such a profound temporal discrepancy?" Seraphiel, her expression troubled, interjected softly, turning to look at her twin. "Gabriel?"

Gabriel straightened up from the wall where he had been leaning, his expression troubled. He sighed heavily before addressing the gathered angels. "That's exactly the issue we're grappling with. Despite all attempts to discern the nature of Adam's soul, the more I delve into it, the more perplexing it becomes. So feel free to add his Mind to the list."

Lute, perched on the edge of her seat, her eyes wide with curiosity, dared to ask, "Perplexing how, Your Highness?"

Gabriel's gaze shifted towards Lute, his expression a mix of contemplation and concern. "His soul carries traces of experiences that defy any mortal understanding. There are glimpses of knowledge and wisdom that surpass even our collective understanding in Heaven. Yet, intertwined with these profound insights are layers of confusion and uncertainty. He is aware that he is Adam, and the major events of his life remain the same, but they are slightly altered."

"For example?" Sera prompted, her curiosity piqued.

"The Garden of Eden, for one," Gabriel began, his tone weighted with the weight of centuries. "He understands his expulsion from the Garden, but in his mind, it was he who ate the apple. Lilith, from what  I could tell, was removed from his psyche. Entirely. As far as Adam's concerned, Eve was the only other human at the time, but..." Gabriel paused, rubbing the bridge of his nose in consternation. "He thinks that Michael is Eve."

The assembled angels exchanged bewildered looks, struggling to grasp the implications of Gabriel's words. In unison, their gazes turned towards Michael, who had been quietly sitting to the side, a mild expression of surprise on her face as she held a glass container.

"M-Michael?!" Emily sputtered, her face flushing slightly and her hand covering her mouth.

Gabriel cleared his throat, his expression grave as he continued. "Adam's perception of events seems to blend memories. He recalls moments from his life in Eden with startling clarity, yet his interpretation is skewed. It's possible that in his subconscious mind, Michael embodies qualities that Eve possessed in the Garden—the companionship, the trust, and the pivotal role in his narrative."

Uriel began slowly, choosing his words with precision, "So his memories seem fragmented as if pieced together from different epochs." He paused, casting his gaze around the assembly of angels who listened intently. "These gaps are not mere omissions but seem deliberate as if certain aspects of his soul have been shielded or obscured. It's as though someone—or something—has woven threads of different narratives together, creating a tapestry that is both rich in detail and frustratingly elusive."

"The Abomination couldn't have done it," Haniel interjected firmly. "While she possesses the strength for such a task, she would never manipulate Adam's memories in a way that would that would replace her in favor of Michael of all people."

Zadkiel nodded in agreement. "And I doubt she would ever taint her 'beloved' in such a manner."

Michael, her voice barely above a whisper, spoke with solemn softness. "It's the work of the Lord." Her eyes, deep and searching, focused on the orbs in her grasp. The eyes seemed to peer straight into her soul.

The other angels exchanged knowing glances, the truth of Michael's words settling heavily among them. Adam's soul, woven with threads of disparate memories and perceptions, bore the imprint of Divine intervention.

Uriel nodded thoughtfully. "If the Lord has intervened in Adam's soul, it must be part of a greater plan, beyond our current understanding."

Haniel sighed softly, her expression reflecting a mix of reverence and concern. "Whatever the Lord's purpose, we must trust in His wisdom."

"Still, it has to be a test for us," Cassiel said, his gaze shifting from Michael to Gabriel, the Messenger of God. "Gabriel, did you find anything of the sort in Adam's mind? Any indications that this weaving of memories and perceptions might serve a divine purpose?"

Gabriel sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the responsibility placed upon him. "I have searched tirelessly," he began, his voice a mix of frustration and reverence. "There are traces of intent, threads of purpose woven into the fabric of Adam's soul—nothing more than barely coherent echoes, but... there was a fragment of a memory."

He paused, gathering his thoughts as the other angels leaned in, their attention focused intently on his words.

"It was a fleeting glimpse," Gabriel continued, his voice softer now, filled with a solemn weight. "I saw Adam standing... facing something. I couldn't decipher who or what it was by shape alone, but I think it was an old man."

The other angels remained silent, their expressions thoughtful as they exchanged glances, attempting to grasp the significance of Gabriel's words.

"An old man?" Emily repeated, her brow furrowing in curiosity.

Gabriel nodded slowly, his gaze distant as he recalled the vision. "Yes, it was as if he stood before a being of pure essence, untouched by mortal existence. The aura was unmistakable—a presence that transcended all earthly understanding. What I felt was... True Divinity. Adam referred to him as the King of Gods."

"He saw the King of Gods? The Almighty Himself?" Uriel's voice thundered through the chamber, echoing off the walls. "Gabriel, what did He say? Is He returning?"

Cassiel's wings fluttered with agitation as he exclaimed, "What did Adam experience in His presence? Did he receive any divine message?"

"Does this mean the end times are truly upon us?" Azrael asked softly, barging into Gabriel's personal space her hands clasped in front of her chest.

"Did he receive any divine message?" Uriel demanded, voice echoing through the chamber. "Should we prepare for His return?"

"D-did the Almighty say anything about Sir Pentious?" Emily yelled from the back, trying to approach but her siblings' larger forms stopped her.

"Was there a warning for us?" Raguel questioned, brow furrowed in concern. ""Are we ready to face His judgment?"

The assembly erupted into a cacophony of voices, questions tumbling over each other in a frenzied panic. Just as the chaos reached its peak, a booming clap silenced them all.

"Silence! Have you forgotten your status?! We need clarity, not hysteria," commanded the High Seraphim, her gaze sweeping the room. Her six wings unfurled, and numerous eyes glared at her siblings, prompting some to murmur apologies. "Gabriel, continue, please."

The angels quieted, hanging on Gabriel's every word, their expressions a mix of fear and anticipation.

The room fell into a heavy silence as Gabriel gathered his thoughts, the intensity of the moment hanging in the air like a weight. The angels leaned in closer, their expressions a mix of curiosity and apprehension, waiting for Gabriel to break the silence and reveal what he knew.

A weird look came over Gabriel's face, as if he was hesitant to say the next part. He opened his mouth, only to close it again.

"Today, if you could," Uriel gritted his teeth, receiving a look from Seraphiel. He shrugged, sensing the urgency in the room.

Gabriel took a deep breath, his voice low but carrying across the chamber. "The Almighty and Adam... their interaction was intense. They seemed to engage in a... physical exchange."

"Wh-what does that mean?" Cassiel looked at him, clearly lost. He glanced at the others, finding them just as bewildered. "What're you trying to say?"

Gabriel's face contorted even further, his cheeks heating from embarrassment. "They started punching each other."

The room fell into a stunned silence, broken only by the faint rustling of wings and shifting of feet. The Archangel only continued to stare at Gabriel.

"...what."

It was... unexpected," Gabriel began cautiously, his voice steady despite the weight of his words. "The Almighty and Adam... they engaged in a physical confrontation of sorts. Adam appeared to mimic the Almighty's movements, as if mirroring His actions."

Gasps and murmurs rippled through the assembly, the angels exchanging bewildered glances as they struggled to comprehend Gabriel's revelation.

"After that," Gabriel continued, his tone measured, "the memory abruptly ended, and Adam awoke in the mortuary next to his lieutenant."

Zadkiel furrowed his brow, leaning forward in his seat. "What do you mean, 'mimicking His moves'? How can a mortal mimic the Almighty?"

Gabriel shook his head slightly, his expression troubled. "I can't fully explain it. It was as if Adam was embodying the essence of the Almighty momentarily, engaging in a form of communion that transcended mortal boundaries."

Uriel, ever cautious, spoke next. "Was there any indication of why this confrontation occurred? Any message left behind?"

"No," Gabriel replied solemnly. "The memory was fragmented, elusive. There were no clear answers. But I don't think the Almighty was crossed with Adam. If anything, He seemed happy."

The room buzzed with whispered conversations and exchanged glances, the angels trying to make sense of Gabriel's revelation.

"He seemed happy?" Chamuel repeated, her voice tinged with disbelief. "How can that be? What could possibly have transpired to bring joy to the Almighty?"

Gabriel sighed, his gaze distant as he recalled the fleeting memory. "It's difficult to discern His intentions, but there was a sense of... approval, perhaps. As if whatever occurred between them held profound significance, something beyond our understanding."

Cassiel leaned forward, his brow furrowed in thought. "Could this mean Adam has been chosen for a greater purpose?"

Uriel nodded slowly, his expression contemplative. "It's possible. The Almighty's actions are always deliberate, never without purpose. If He engaged with Adam in such a manner, there must be a reason."

"But why a physical confrontation?" Jophiel interjected, his wings twitching with agitation. "What could the Almighty hope to achieve through such means?"

Gabriel shook his head, his uncertainty evident. "I don't know, but I believe those moves that the Almighty showed... they were the same Adam used when he returned."

The room grew quieter, the angels absorbing Gabriel's words with growing realization.

"The same moves?" Cassiel murmured, his eyes widening in astonishment as he recalled Adam's final decisive strike. "Thinking back, his last attack carried a hint of Divine Blessing. True God's Right Fist, he called it."

Uriel leaned forward, his expression thoughtful, brow furrowed in contemplation. "Could it be a lesson? Perhaps the Almighty was imparting knowledge or preparing Adam."

"Then that means Adam's descent into Hell was not merely an act of defiance," The Angel of Beauty interjected, her voice steady but laced with excitement. "It was by the Lord's command."

Raphael's voice carried reverence as he spoke once more "There was a poem of humans that spoke of this:

'O loving wisdom of our God! 

When all was sin and shame, 

A second Adam to the fight! 

And to the rescue came.'

His stance was solemn, wings slightly unfurled, as he pondered deeply, his gaze fixed on the assembled angels. "Could it be referring to this prophecy by the Lord's design? Speaking of Adam's second ascension?"

His words hung in the air, prompting the angels to ponder. The idea of a divine prophecy woven into mortal literature wasn't new, but if Adam's return was foretold as a "second Adam," it would explain the guidance he seemed to receive.

"I don't think the child who wrote it was even aware of its true meaning, but..." Uriel nodded thoughtfully.  "It fits. Adam's arrival and his actions, especially confronting the Archtraitor in the realm of shame and sin, seem to align."

"So for now, it seems that Adam's condition is merely momentary, a transient state as he undergoes his final ascension. This is not merely a trial but his ultimate test, a crucible forged by the Almighty's will." Haniel declared, prompting the others to nod. "As for us, we shall not stay idle."

Gabriel nodded in agreement, his wings unfurling and rising "The prophecy unfolds, and we must remain vigilant. The path ahead is fraught with peril, but it is by His design."

Raphael, standing tall with a look of determination, added, "We must prepare ourselves, for the time draws near. The signs are clear, and we have been entrusted with this divine mission."

Chamuel, with a thoughtful expression, remarked. She released Lute and rose to stand by her siblings."It is a test of faith and strength. We must be ready to uphold His will and guide Adam through his ordained path."

The assembly of angels stood united, their resolve unwavering as they prepared to fulfill their roles in the unfolding divine plan. The echoes of prophecy and the decree of the Almighty filled their essences.

"And the Seven Trumpets shall sound," Zadkiel intoned, his voice filled with reverence. "The heavens will declare the coming trials, and all of creation will bear witness."

"The First will signal the beginning of the end: the seas will roar, the earth will tremble, and the heavens will proclaim His glory," Uriel joined in.

"The second trumpet will bring the great mountain burning with fire, cast into the sea," Jophiel continued. "The third will see a great star fall from heaven, blazing like a torch. The fourth will darken the sun, moon, and stars, plunging the world into deepening chaos."

Raguel's voice joined in, "The fifth trumpet will release the torment of locusts upon the earth, sparing only those sealed by God. The sixth will unleash the four angels bound at the great river Euphrates, and they will kill a third of mankind."

Emily looked around at the frenzy her older siblings seemed to be driven into, their words frightening her. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words died in her throat as she felt Seraphiel's hands on her shoulders in a vice-like grip, wings unfurled and authority bearing down on Emily.

A warning.

Emily could only watch in despair as Sear joined."The seventh trumpet will announce the final victory of our Lord, His kingdom come, and His will be done on earth as it is in heaven."

"For the Almighty's decree is clear. "When the First Man and the Lord's champion awaken, " Michael declared, stepping to the front, her six wings unfurled in all their glory. Her voice resonated with divine authority.

"The Child of Sin will be presented for the slaughter."

And in seeming approval of their devotion, the First Man's soul burned brighter.

Chapter Text

Adam stood with his arms crossed, an apathetic expression on his face as he looked down at the downed form of the shade. The shade clutched his stomach in pain from the blow Adam had landed. He raised his head and glared at Adam.

"You hit like a sack of potatoes," the Shade grumbled between clenched teeth, his voice strained with both agony and a hint of dark humor.

Adam's lips quirked in a faint smirk, the tension easing a notch as he saw the Shade's attempt at levity despite the situation. "Maybe next time, I'll aim for something softer," he replied dryly, his tone lightening.

The Shade winced as he attempted to sit up, still holding his side. "I'll remember that," he muttered, a grudging respect mingling with the pain in his voice.

"Have you calmed down a bit?" Adam asked.

"Eat a dick!" the shade yelled back but didn't make a move to attack again.

Adam sighed, shaking his head slightly. "Look, I'm trying to understand what's going on here. You're clearly pissed off, but throwing tantrums isn't going to get us anywhere."

The shade's golden eyes flared with residual anger, but he remained still. "You don't get it, do you? I was killed! betrayed, left to rot! So excuse me, if I'm just a tad bit fucking mad!"

Adam's expression remained neutral. "Who did this to you?"

"That short bitch and his whore! That fucking bitch of a daughter he has, too. And that bitch fucking midget who stabbed me in the back! And now you're here, all calm and collected, like nothing happened." The shade spat on the ground. "Why the fucking fuck do you think I called your twink ass here?! Go fucking kill them, you useless cunt!"

Adam's hand landed on the larger man's hair and ruffled it harshly. "You sure are one cheeky brat. Grabbing this old man from who knows where and ordering me around. Who do you think you are?"

"Get your fucking hand off me, you blonde bitch! And who the fuck are you calling a brat?" The shade tried to bite Adam to no avail. "I'm motherfucking Adam! The Fucking Dickmaster!"

Adam grabbed the shade's head and shook it from side to side, a sigh escaping his lips. "And that right there is the problem. How can you be Adam if I'm Adam? We don't even look the same."

"Damn straight, we don't! This right here is pure perfection, not that short prepubescent tragedy you call a body. I'm bet you can't reach my waist, you damn shithead" The shade growled, batting Adam's hand away. "Turns out the Big G went with the whole 'don't put all your eggs in one basket' when it came to creation. Explains why he kept going AFK all the damn time."

Adam raised an eyebrow, trying to process the shade's words. "So, you're saying there are two versions of us? Two Adams?"

The shade nodded, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. "Yeah, looks like it. Each one probably with our own story, their own shit to deal with. All with little differences here and there. For example, while we're both Adam, I'm Perfect, and you're not."

"But why?" Adam asked with a tilt of his head. "Seems like a pain to keep track of all of it."

The shade shrugged, its expression morphing into a mixture of frustration and bitterness. "Who knows? Maybe he thought it would be entertaining. Or maybe he just got bored. All I know is there is another me in front of me, when he should doing his fucking job. There might be more, but I ain't sure " The Shade shrugged. "None of them as fucking metal as me, obviously."

Adam hummed, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I'm still gonna call you 'Shade' in my head. Otherwise, it'll get confusing."

The Shade's eyes flashed with a mixture of frustration and incredulity. "How the in the ever loving fuck do you get confused in your own—" He paused, the irritation evident in his voice. "You know what, I don't care. Guess I'll refer to you as 'dumbass' in my head."

Adam chuckled softly, the sound breaking through the tension. "Fair enough. But you know, maybe we could come up with something better. 'Dumbass' is a bit... harsh"

The Shade scowled, but the edge in his voice softened slightly. "Yeah, well, you're not exactly winning any awards for creative nicknames yourself."

Adam shrugged, his expression turning thoughtful. "True, but 'Shade' is simple. It suits your condition, doesn't it? You're not a soul, but the left over emotions of one—always lurking, always there, but never quite seen. Never here or there." Just like Adam was before he was summoned to Ragnarok. "After all, you did spend some time hidden in the shade of my soul."

The Shade's eyes narrowed slightly, contemplating Adam's words. "Yeah, well, I didn't ask for a cozy vacation in your shitty soul. It wasn't exactly a picnic in there, you know."

Adam nodded in understanding. "I get it. It wasn't exactly a joyride for either of us. But here we are, figuring things out together."

The Shade scoffed, but there was a hint of begrudging acknowledgment in his tone. "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, 'Adam'. Just don't expect me to start singing Kumbaya anytime soon."

"So how exactly did you summon me?" Adam asked, curiosity tinging his voice.

The Shade glanced sideways at Adam, his expression guarded. "It wasn't exactly intentional. More like a S.O.S that somehow reached you through the cracks."

Adam raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A cry for help?"

"What fuck no! I don't cry for help. it was...uh ..an order" the Shade muttered, his voice tinged with bitterness. "When my soul tried to split from the rest and ascend to God's side, a small fragment of me refused to let go. I was drowning in anger and despair, and in that moment of absolute rage, I called out to anyone who would listen. Next thing I know, you're standing there, ready to throw down with everyone and their mother, with me at your center of your soul, like some fucked up Gundam shit.."

Adam nodded slowly, digesting the information. "So, a residual echo of your rage summoned me."

"Something like that, that part of me kept me from moving on. So, I prayed to Big G" the Shade replied curtly, his eyes scanning their surroundings warily. "I didn't expect it to actually work."

"Big G.. you mentioned him before. He's a big deal, right?" Adam asked, poking the shade in the forehead. "Who's that, your friend?"

"God, you slow shithead! Jesus Christ, you're dumb," the shade snapped at him, grabbing his finger.

Adam clicked his tongue in annoyance, his expression laced with skepticism. "Of course, it was the fault of a god," he muttered to himself, the frustration evident in his tone. "At least I know who to blame, and if it comes to it, whose ass to kick."

He turned to the Shade, raising an eyebrow in question. "So which god was it? Zeus? The lightning guy with the hammer? Or maybe the one with the microphone? It couldn't have been that guy, right?"

"Kick his ass? Pfft, please. Big G will make you his sex toy," the Shade scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Also, Seriously? Zeus? You're still stuck in ancient mythology? No, not that bunch of clowns. We're talking about the Big G, the Creator, the Almighty himself."

"...who?"

"The guy we're made in His image." the Shade growled.

"But we don't look the same?"

"Not literally!" the shade bashed his head on the ground. "Holy fucking shit, you're stupid."

Adam scratched his head, clearly perplexed. "So, we're made in the image of this Almighty, but not literally?"

The shade let out an exasperated sigh, eyes rolling dramatically. "Exactly! He made us to be like him, but not in a physical copy-paste way."

Adam furrowed his brow, genuine confusion knitting his features. "So, how does that work?"

The shade's anger simmered just beneath the surface, evident in its sharp tone. "Look, it's not about the physical appearance! It's about the essence, the concept, you know? We're supposed to embody his qualities, his nature, not his literal looks!"

Adam nodded slowly, beginning to understand. "So, we're like... reflections of his characteristics?"

The shade's frustration leaked through its words. "Yes, exactly! And let me tell you, his anger? His vengeance? Yeah, I've got plenty of that shit."

Adam raised an eyebrow, sensing the shade's seething anger. "Why are you so angry then?"

The shade's voice grew harsher, laced with bitterness. "Because I got fucking killed, that's why! Murdered in cold blood by those hell dwelling cunts. Left to rot in this hellhole!"

Adam's expression softened, sympathy creasing his features. "Whoa... That's... rough."

The shade scoffed, bitterness dripping from its words. "You bet your ass it is and now you're here, calm as a cucumber, like everything's fucking dandy."

Adam's eyes narrowed slightly. "What do you expect me to do about it?"

The shade shot Adam an incredulous look. "What do you think? I brought you here for revenge! You should be killing those cunts and skull fucking their corpses."

Adam shook his head, his voice firm. "I can't condone revenge. It solves nothing."

The shade's anger flared, its words spat with venom. "Solves nothing? They murdered me! What would you do if someone killed you?"

Adam remained composed, unfazed by the shade's outburst. "I'd seek justice, not revenge. There's a difference."

"You think I buy into your sanctimonious act?" the Shade scoffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm."You know, that 'Boy Scout, goody-two-shoes, turn the other cheek' shit really doesn't sound convincing after you beat the hell out of literal Hell and proclaimed yourself fucking God, you blasphemous fuck!" The shade's voice trembled with rage, its golden eyes blazing. "Why the fuck did you go there if it wasn't to avenge me!?"

For Eve.

"Because the Valkyrie told me that—Oh." Adam's voice trailed off, his eyes widening as realization dawned on him like the first rays of dawn breaking through a stormy night. This wasn't his world.

This wasn't his world.

The weight of responsibility and dread that had gripped his heart since his arrival began to lift, replaced by an overwhelming flood of relief.

A profound sense of joy surged through him, his knees nearly buckling beneath the weight of his revelation. His Eve, his beloved wife, was safe. She had never been in danger. Images of her flashed through his mind—her gentle smile, the warmth of her embrace, and the peace in her eyes. For the first time in what felt like eternity, Adam allowed himself to believe that he hadn't failed to protect her.

His chest tightened with emotion, and he struggled to steady his breathing as a tear of relief escaped down his cheek. "She's safe," he whispered, the words carrying a weight of gratitude and disbelief.

"About time you fucking realized that. I have to admit, you're really way too dumb to be an Adam," the shade grumbled, looking down at Adam's kneeling form. "Okay, okay, your bitch is fine. Stop making it a big deal."

Despite the shade's crude words, a small smile tugged at the corners of Adam's mouth. "Thank you," he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "I needed that."

The Shade rolled his eyes.

Wait, if his Eve was never in danger, then the serpent never actually tried to test him again.

And the serpent was back in his own world.

...did Adam beat up this world's serpent for nothing?

No, across all creation the Serpent could never be anything more than just a stain of shit on the world, Adam nodded to himself.

It was a fact ingrained in all creation, like Adam's love for his children; Eve's enduring beauty, her adorable charm, her smile as bright as the sun, and her touch as gentle as the clouds, her laughter, a melody sweeter than any bird's song, her eyes, pools of endless sky-blue, held a warmth that could melt the coldest of souls, her presence alone could turn the darkest day into dawn of hope and joy, her grace in movement, like a dance of the wind through the trees, captivated all who beheld her, her voice, a soothing whisper of the universe, brought peace to the restless and comfort to the weary; The Earth being round.

And the Serpent? It deserved every bit of the beatdown Adam gave it.

Because even if it wasn't his Eve that the Serpent deceived, he still ruined an Eve's life. And that was more than enough to suffer Adam's wrath.

Realization settling heavily upon him, he turned to the Shade.

"Lute's tale.....she was talking about your Eve," Adam addressed the Shade with a sympathetic voice.

The Shade's expression softened momentarily, a mix of guarded hope and lingering anger evident in his eyes. "What about her?"

Adam hesitated, sensing the weight of his next words. "She's not safe," he said quietly, the realization hitting him hard as he pieced together the fragments of information. The Eve trapped in Hell belonged to the Shade.

A pained silence followed as the Shade averted his gaze, his voice strained. "Eve is gone."

"Did you try to find her?" Adam asked gently, hoping against hope for a different answer.

The Shade's bitterness surfaced again. "That thing is not my wife."

Adam furrowed his brow, trying to make sense of the Shade's words. Suddenly, it clicked. The creature he encountered in the depths of Hell, clinging desperately to the Shade's form and calling it her beloved—the yearning in her voice and the anguish in her presence...

That was Eve.

Yet, the creature was foul, malicious, feeding off the souls of the innocent. To think that Eve could ever become like that...

She was not his Eve, yet she was once human.

A human.

And that was reason enough—for her to be reduced to such a state.

"That thing is not Eve," the Shade repeated bitterly, his voice thick with resentment and grief, the weight of loss heavy upon him.

The idea of returning to Hell began to feel increasingly compelling.

Yet, there was still something to be addressed.

Before he let his wrath show again to the surface, and the first thing to decide was gain an understanding of where he was.

And how many would feel his fist.

He stopped in his track.

He put off asking this question long enough.

"You've been hurt," Adam stated quietly, prompting the Shade to turn and give him a skeptical look, one eyebrow raised. The Shade opened his mouth to retort, but the earnest concern in Adam's eyes silenced him.

"Damn straight, I got fucked over," the Shade replied with a huff, his jaw tightening visibly.

"Very well, the person responsible for your perishing was the Serpent, the guy named Lucifer, right?" Adam asked.

"Yeah, that's right," he spat. "Lucifuck. The snake. The fucking backstabber."

"Okay, I will kill him," Adam said, his voice resolute. The Serpent was still alive only because Adam had been distracted by the corrupted Eve. "But before that, I still have one thing to make sure of."

Adam turned his gaze to the side, peering into the darkness that surrounded them, seeing beyond the physical forms of the souls they were amidst. His eyes traced the countless hollowed and anguished echoes of souls, chained and dragged along the ground.

"Were you the one who killed them?"

"You bet your ass I did," the Shade laughed with a cruel grin. "And I looked fucking spectacular doing it."

"They're not souls," Adam murmured, almost to himself. "They're echoes of souls. Echoes of humans."

"They may not be my descendants," he continued softly, "but they're human. And that's enough."

The Shade watched Adam, sensing a deeper reflection in his words. The Shade's pain and hatred were evident, yet Adam knew that being hurt was no justification for harming others, especially one's children.

"These humans, chained to your soul," Adam began, his voice steady but probing. "Why did you kill them?"

A cynical grin spread across the Shade's face, a bitter twist to his expression. "Because they deserved it."

"They are your flesh and bone," Adam insisted.

The smirk on the Shade's face twisted into an expression of absolute loathing. "Then I reject them. The shitheads do not deserve to be called my descendants."

Adam's fingers twitched, and with a sudden, brutal motion, he drove his fist into the Shade's chest. The sound was sickening—a wet crunch as ribs shattered and flesh gave way. Blood spurted from the Shade's mouth, and his eyes widened in shock and pain. Adam's hand dug deeper, feeling the sticky warmth of blood coat his skin as he reached the Shade's heart.

The Shade's scream was guttural, raw with agony. Adam twisted his hand, the Shade's chest caving in further, bones splintering under the force. Blood gushed from the gaping wound, pooling around them. Adam's expression was cold, detached, as he tore his hand free, ripping out a chunk of the Shade's innards. The Shade crumpled to the ground, his body convulsing, blood flowing freely from the massive wound. Adam stood over him, his bloodied hand dripping, the gore and viscera a stark contrast to the darkness around them. The Shade's breaths came in ragged gasps.

The damage was fatal, but he wouldn't die.

Because he wasn't alive to begin with, and Adam did not put his essence into it.

Adam would never kill a human.

Adam's eyes blazed with a cold, furious light as he looked down at the broken figure before him. "Do you have no shame?" His voice was low and steady, each word laced with contempt. "You call yourself a father?"

The Shade writhed on the ground, his body twitching in agony, blood seeping into the dirt beneath him. He tried to speak, but only a gurgling sound emerged, his mouth frothing with crimson.

Adam's fury did not abate. He knelt beside the Shade, grabbing him by the collar and lifting him slightly off the ground. "You slaughtered them," he hissed, his grip tightening. "Those echoes of humanity. You were supposed to protect them, guide them. Instead, you became their tormentor."

The Shade's eyes, filled with pain and resentment, locked onto Adam's. "They... deserved it," he rasped, each word a struggle. "All of them... traitors..."

Adam's expression hardened further. "Deserved it?" He spat the words out. "No child deserves to be killed by their father's hand."

The Shade's face twisted in a grimace, trying to muster defiance despite his broken state. "You... don't fuckin ... understand... the betrayal..."

"Betrayal?" Adam's voice was almost a growl now. "You betrayed your own nature, your own purpose. You let your pain turn you into a monster."

The Shade's teeth gritted as he slammed his fist into the ground, lifting himself up despite the blood pouring from his wounds. His bloodshot eyes glared at Adam with absolute hatred. "Who... who the fuck... do you think you are to judge me? I... am Adam!" he spat, his voice a mixture of rage and agony.

Adam's eyes blazed with fury, his own anger surging at the Shade's defiance. "You are not Adam," he retorted, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "You are a twisted, broken version of what Adam should be. You are a mockery of the name. 'Adam' is a father who loved his children, who nurtured and protected them. He made mistakes, but he never justified killing his own kin."

"I am Adam!" The Shade spoke defiantly, his voice low and bitter. "And I've never made a mistake in my life. I'm not going to be judged by a fucker high on his own farts who's never suffered a day in his life!"

Adam's jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides as he fought to control his rising fury. The Shade rose to his full height, looming over Adam on wobbly feet. Blood seeped from the hole in his chest, staining his clothes, but he refused to buckle. His breathing was heavy, each breath a painful rasp, and his scowl deepened as he glared at Adam.

"You... have no right," the Shade spat through gritted teeth, his voice thick with pain and anger. "You think you know... what it's like? You think you understand... the shit I've been through?"

Adam closed his eyes, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he willed himself to calm down. The torrent of anger that had surged through him moments ago now ebbed, leaving behind a feeling of exhaustion and fatigue. Weariness lined his features as he spoke, the weight of everything they had just confronted settling heavily on his shoulders.

"You're right. I don't," Adam replied firmly, his voice tinged with the weariness of someone who had seen too much. He lowered himself to the floor, each movement deliberate yet laden with exhaustion. With a sweeping motion of his hand, he gestured to a spot beside him. "Sit down."

The Shade hesitated, eyes narrowed with suspicion and pain, but something in Adam's demeanor spoke of genuine intent. Reluctantly, he eased himself down onto the ground.

Adam's voice cut through the tense silence like a blade. "I hate you," he stated flatly, his words heavy with unresolved emotions and weariness that seemed to stretch beyond the present moment. His gaze, usually steady and determined, now held a flicker of pain and frustration.

The Shade's reaction was immediate. His jaw clenched, eyes narrowing into a glare that bore into Adam with venomous intensity. "Hate me all you want," he retorted sharply, his voice laced with bitterness and defiance. "But you don't understand a damn thing."

Adam's expression remained stoic, though the turmoil within him simmered just beneath the surface. "Maybe not," he conceded, his tone calm yet edged with a hint of regret. "But I'm willing to listen."

The Shade scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping him as he turned away briefly, as if to gather his thoughts. "Listening won't change a thing," he muttered, the words more to himself than to Adam.

Adam watched him closely, a mixture of frustration and determination etched on his features. "Maybe not," he repeated, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "But it's a start."

The Shade's shoulders tensed, his fists clenching at his sides. He glanced back at Adam, a mix of defiance and pain in his eyes. "Fine," he muttered grudgingly, finally sinking down beside Adam, his posture rigid and guarded.

For a long moment, silence hung between them like a heavy shroud, broken only by the faint echoes of distant cries and the faint rustle of restless souls nearby. Adam's posture remained relaxed yet attentive, a silent invitation for the Shade to start whenever he was ready.

Finally, the Shade spoke, his voice gravelly with suppressed emotion. "Since you're fucking hung up on the poor childrenn I'll start from there. You...how many kids did you have?"

Adam's lips twitched with a proud number—three trillion, four hundred fifty-six billion, seven hundred eighty-nine million, twelve thousand, three hundred forty-five—but he held it back. He doubted that was what the Shade was asking about.

"Twenty-eight. Ten sons and eighteen daughters," Adam finally answered, his voice steady despite the weight of his lineage.

The Shade snorted, a bitter edge to the sound but lacking its usual heat. "Weak. I had one hundred and forty-four kids."

"I suppose each one left their mark in their own way," Adam said softly, more to himself than to the Shade, his thoughts drifting to his own descendants and the complexities of their individual journeys.

The Shade glanced at Adam, a hint of appreciation in his gaze. "Aye, they do," he acknowledged gruffly, his voice carrying the weight of a lifetime of experiences, both bitter and sweet.

"And of those kids, how many made it to Heaven?" the Shade asked.

"The afterlife in my realm, Valhalla, differs from the Heaven of your realm," Adam explained, leaning back. Unlike his descendants, Adam and Eve were more of an idea, so the 'him' in Valhalla was less a soul and more of a shade like the one standing in front of him. "But likely all except my eldest son, Cain."

"That's more than I managed," the Shade said with a tired smile. "Out of one hundred and forty-four kids, only three made it to Heaven. Cain was condemned to Hell. The rest... "His voice trailed off, his gaze flickering away for a moment, a hint of moisture glistening in his eyes as he looked to the side.

"...the rest were consumed by that Thing."

Chapter Text

Adam and the Shade sat across from each other in the dimly lit room, their postures mirroring a solemn reflection of the weighty conversation they had just shared. The flickering lights from outside cast dancing shadows across the walls. The Shade's hands were clenched into tight fists, his shoulders slightly hunched forward Adam, on the other hand, sat with a thoughtful expression, his brow furrowed in deep contemplation.

Adam broke the silence first, his voice measured. "Consumed by that Thing," he echoed. "You mean...?"

The Shade nodded silently.

Adam furrowed his brows as he pondered the Shade's words, trying to grasp the full implications of what he had just heard.

"What exactly is that Thing?" Adam's question lingered in the air, its weight underscoring the seriousness of their situation. Leaning in slightly, he fixed his gaze on the Shade, hoping for clarity about whatever the creature he faced was. "It's clear that it's not a regular demon."

The Shade's eyes flickered with sorrow. "The Root of All Evil," he began, his voice low and filled with bitterness. "It's more than just a corrupted entity. It's the embodiment of all the darkness, sin, and evil in the world. It's the Antithesis of God, the very opposite of everything pure and holy."

Adam's expression grew more serious, the weight of the Shade's words sinking in. "So, it's not just a creature. It's a force of nature, driven by the worst parts of creation."

"Exactly," the Shade replied, his tone growing more intense. "It existed before all else, split from the Almighty when creation began. While God created order and light, It was the darkness and chaos, the counterbalance to everything good. But unlike God, it was powerless on its own. It had no form, no direction..... At least, not until I named it."

Adam's eyes widened with realization. "You named it?"

Despite how much he tried to downplay his duty in the Garden to his children, bestowing a name to an object was a powerful act. It is not merely about assigning a label. Names have the ability to transform perception, shaping the essence and influence of objects in profound ways. A name gave identity, purpose, and sometimes, power.

It made things more.

"Yeah," the Shade grumbled, his voice low and bitter, punctuated by a weary sigh. "I thought I was just doing what I was supposed to—naming shit, categorizing, trying to make sense of it all. Didn't think it'd turn out like this. Was supposed to be harmless. it seemed harmless until it wasn't. Gave it a name, a purpose: Roo whose roots spread through all creation."

"After I named it, nothing much happened at first," the Shade explained with a shrug. "Roo got more lively, its roots spread faster through the garden. It was like everything got a bit better—air smelled sweeter, the flowers looked prettier, and even the critters seemed happier. It was clingy too, always wrapping its roots, and followed around me like some damn puppy. Didn't talk, but I felt its vibe, ya know? kept filling my head with how much it loved me and shit... and I believed it."

He let out a sigh, his expression clouding with regret. " Made me think it was harmless, maybe even a buddy. Guess I was a sucker, bought into its act. Thought it was innocent, but turns out it was playing me."

Adam nodded thoughtfully, absorbing the Shade's words. "So it laid low?" he asked, seeking clarification.

The Shade scoffed, spitting to the side "Yeah, fuckin' laid low. Even after I named the bastard and turned it into less of a concept and into a proper creature, it was still fuckin' stuck," he grumbled, frustration evident in his voice. "Trapped in that damn Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil."

Adam listened intently, his brow furrowing deeper. It always came back to that damn tree. He leaned back, crossing his arms, and looked hard at the Shade. Not just a glance—he peered into him, eyes glowing slightly as he examined the core of his soul, or at least what was left of it. A faint taint was present, but..No trace of it.

His nose confirmed it too—no smell of the First Sin.

 "All with little differences here and there." 

"Most likely, she is in Hell. As a punishment for accepting the Fruit of Knowledge of Good and Evil from the Prince of Lies."

"You never ate the apple," Adam said. "Eve did."

The Shade nodded, looking far older than his face showed. "I told her not to... I fucking told her not to, but..." His voice broke, barely a whisper. His eyes were filled with a deep, aching sorrow. His shoulders slumped, and his gaze fell to the ground. "But she... she didn't listen. She chose to ignore me and listen to those fucking backstabbing pieces of shit!"

Adam let out a heavy sigh, the weight of the revelation settling over him. "So, Roo's power, its corruption... it all came from Eve eating the apple."

"Yeah," the Shade muttered, his voice tinged with regret. "After she ate it, everything changed. Roo wasn't just some harmless entity anymore. It became something more... something dangerous. It was no longer a chained concept. It had a vessel."

"...You said 'those,' as in plural," Adam asked, trying to veer off the painful memories. It was clear that the Shade in front of him desperately wished not to recall what happened, and Adam had already heard the biased recounting of the Serpent. The conclusion he reached back in his frenzied rage hadn't changed. It was all the Serpent's fault. "I take it this means that the 'Lilith' woman is not just a figment of the Serpent's imagination."

The Shade's jaw clenched at the mention of the name, and his nose flared. "That's who 'and his whore' was referring to. That fucking bitch wasn't satisfied by stabbing me in the back, she just had to fucking ruin Eve too." His fists tightened, the anger and betrayal evident in his voice. "Lilith... she was there, whispering in Eve's ear, feeding her lies, pushing her to take the apple. It wasn't enough for her to leave me; she had to drag Eve down with her."

Adam's expression darkened as he listened to the Shade's words. "So, Lilith was working with the Serpent? They both manipulated Eve?"

"Yeah, they were in it together. The Serpent tempted Eve, and Lilith was there to reinforce the lies, to twist the truth. She made Eve believe that eating the apple would set her free, and make her more." Angry and sorrowful, the Shade nodded." They played her, and she fell for it."

Adam's fists clenched at his sides. He asked again."So, Eve's action... it wasn't just a moment of weakness. She was manipulated by those two. They turned her against you?"

"Fucking yes! They used her! They told her that... that she wasn't good enough for me. That she was gonna get replaced when I got bored of her." The Shade's face hardened, his voice trembling with anger. "Fucking pieces of shit, playing with her mind, twisting everything."

Adam grit his teeth hard enough they threatened to crack, and his gums began to bleed. It wasn't him. It wasn't his Eve. Yet, it was hard to disassociate.

Adam's eyes widened in disbelief, then narrowed in a fury so intense it seemed to darken the very air around him.

Adam growing bored with Eve?

Eve not being good enough for him?

The thought alone was blasphemous. How dare they even insinuate that he, Adam, would ever consider Eve anything less than his equal? His partner? His other half? The notion was an insult of the highest order.

'The Serpent and His Whore'—what an apt nickname.

They were no different from the gods. No; not even the gods dared to insinuate such a thing. Even when hating them, the gods always made sure to specify 'Adam and Eve.' They despised them equally.

No, these two were far worse.

Adam's rage grew crueler, more consuming. The ground beneath them began to tremble, cracks spreading like spiderwebs. The air grew thick, heavy with the force of his anger, and his soul burned with a fury that seemed to set the very atmosphere alight. The Shade could feel the heat, the intensity of Adam's rage, as if it might tear the world apart.

"I don't know if Roo was working with them, or if they just get off on ruining my life, but.." The Shade addressed Adam, his tone almost pleading. "Make them suffer."

Not trusting his words, Adam nodded.

Little by little, Adam started to breathe slowly, attempting to control his emotions. The time for rage was not yet. He still had the rest of the story to hear. Then, he would rage.

He opened his mouth, temper slowly dissipating, and words slowly forming. "After she bit the apple... what happened?"

"It went to shit, the garden was ground zero, and turned to rubble," the Shade continued, his voice rough with the memory. "Eve's body was ripped apart and recreated over and over, Roo's core merging with her into... that Thing." The Shade's face twisted. "When I saw it, I nearly shit myself. But... Eve was suffering inside of it, calling out to me... I tried to help, and that thing went fucking ballistic."

Adam's fists clenched, his knuckles white as he fought to keep his emotions in check. The ground still trembled slightly, but the violent shaking had eased. He focused on the Shade's words.

"The moment I fucking touched her, it tried to rip me apart," the Shade explained, yanking back his robe sleeves. He thrust his scarred arms forward for Adam to see, the twisted scars running from wrist to upper arm. "Not out of hate or anger, but because it thought I was its other half."

Adam gently grasped the Shade's scarred limbs in his hands. He flared his [Eyes of the Lord] and inspected the jagged scars. There was a faint taint of the Thing, which must have been what he felt earlier. However, it was different from the stench of the Apple. It seemed almost... pacified.

"It fucking tried to consume me... Sera later told me that with the merging, Eve's love for me might have twisted its mind into thinking I was part of it. Makes twisted sense, I guess."

"So, it tried to devour you out of desire?" Adam inquired, letting go of the limbs.

"Yeah," the Shade nodded grimly. He quickly covered his arms. Too quickly, Adam noticed but kept quiet."Eve's love got tangled up in that fucking abomination. Roo thought I was supposed to be part of it, part of that nightmare."

"What happened next?" Adam asked, his voice barely controlled.

"The fucking Angels arrived," the Shade said, his voice a mix of bitterness and grudging respect. "Michael barreled into that thing to get it away from me. Raphael took me away, and Sera and Uriel beat the shit out of Lucifuck and his bitch. I don't know... the whole thing kinda happened fast, and at that point, I was just wallowing in self-pity."

Adam's eyes remained locked on the Shade, his fury simmering just below the surface. "And then?"

"And then Big G showed up," the Shade said, his tone shifting to one of reverence and awe. "The Almighty Himself. Perfect timing, as always. He looked at the whole mess and decided to clean house. I was too busy feeling sorry for myself to really grasp it all, but it was like watching a divine janitor scrub away the filth we'd made."

Adam's jaw tightened, his eyes flaring. "What did He do?"

The Shade laughed bitterly. "What do you think He did? He looked at Lucibitch like he was the biggest disappointment in the history of existence. Which, he definitely was. Then, He went and put that fucking Thing down. Sealed it up tight. Roo got torn from Eve and shoved into the abyss or whatever, and Eve... Eve was restored to the best possible degree without scrapping her and creating her again."

 Adam's fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles white. The ground beneath them continued to tremble slightly, a testament to the barely restrained fury within him. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus. "So He cleaned up the mess and left you to deal with the aftermath?"

"Ease it with the hate boner," the Shade said, giving Adam a sidelong glance. "But nah, He didn't just leave me hanging. After Raphael healed me and made sure that Roo wouldn't just spawn from my flesh, He took me aside and explained what happened."

Adam's anger wavered, curiosity piqued. "He did?"

The Shade nodded, a hint of reverence in his voice. "Yeah, He wasn't angry at me. Far from it. He understood the shitstorm we got caught up in. He explained the whole mess—how Roo's corruption took root, how Eve got tangled in it, and how it all spiraled out of control."

Adam's brow furrowed, his rage momentarily overshadowed by confusion. "What did He say?"

"He told me that Roo wasn't supposed to be evil," the Shade said, his voice softening. "It was a concept twisted by circumstances. It was confused. He said Eve's love for me and Roo's arrogance and envy influenced the Thing and made it see me as its other half. It was a fucked-up situation, but He didn't blame me. He just wanted me to understand."

Adam's face twisted in bemusement and bewilderment. A god acting responsibly? Nah, he wouldn't believe it. Clearly, the Shade had been too emotionally deprived to notice.

"And Eve?" he asked.

"The next day," the Shade continued, his voice carrying shaking a bit, "He told me that Eve couldn't stay in the Garden since she committed the ultimate Sin. She was no longer fit to be the Mother of all humanity. But since she was deceived, eternal damnation would be too cruel a punishment. So, she was going to be... unmade, and a new woman created. One that would be absolutely obedient to me, and would only exist to serve me."

Adam knew it. The damn gods were a bunch of arrogant bastards after all.

Adam's heart clenched at the thought. Eve unmade? The woman he loved, erased from existence? A growl bubbled in his throat, but it was silenced when the Shade raised his hand.

"Obviously, I refused. Whatever doubts I had were gone when I realized that Eve was deceived and not betrayed willingly." The Shade shook his head, a pained expression crossing his face. "I fought it. I pleaded, I begged. But His decision was final. He couldn't let the corruption linger. He couldn't risk it spreading. I was given no choice. Eve was to be unmade."

The Shade took a deep breath."So sometime later, when Big G was somewhere else, and the angels were busy cleaning shit up, I ran back to the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, or at least what was left of it. I thought that maybe if I ate it too... Eve would be spared. Of course, the other possibility was either death or eternal damnation, but we'd be together." The Shade finished, his cheeks heating up.

Adam's breath hitched at the Shade's words. "And?"

"I couldn't find any apples to eat," the Shade looked away with embarrassment on his face, his face red. "So I bit... the bark of the tree."

Adam stared at the Shade, trying to process the absurdity of what he had just heard. "You bit the bark of the tree?"

The Shade nodded, his expression a mix of shame and defiance. "Yeah, I did. Desperate times call for desperate measures, right? I didn't know if it would work, but I had to try something. I couldn't just stand by and let Eve be unmade."

"And what happened?" Adam asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"Choked on a piece of it and nearly killed myself," the Shade admitted, a hint of embarrassment coloring his tone.

Adam blinked, the tension momentarily broken by the absurdity of the image. "For real?"

The Shade shrugged, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Yeah, it wasn't my finest moment. I was desperate and stupid, I know. But I had to do something, anything. It was either that or stand by and watch Eve get erased from existence. And... it did save her."

Adam's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

 The Shade nodded, a grim smirk crossing his lips. "So there I was, making a total ass of myself, and bam! God and Eve catch me in the act. Turns out, it was some friggin' test from the Almighty Himself. Had to prove I wasn't just another dumb piece of shit."

"So your God lied," Adam said with crossed arms.

"Yeah," the Shade continued gruffly. "Eve's the one who came up with the brilliant idea to unmake herself and start fresh. Even the damn Angels were on board. So Big G decides to dump the choice in my lap."

Adam's mind spun with this revelation. "Eve wanted to... unmake herself? Why would she think that?"

"Because those two dickwads filled her head with all type of shit! She tought I wanted nothing do with her."The Shade let out a rough sigh, his tone roughening. "She felt responsible, full of guilt for screwing everything up. Thought wiping herself out was the only way to fix the mess, to yank out the damn corruption. Didn't want any more suffering on her conscience."

Adam stared at the Shade, a mix of emotions swirling within him. "And God... He accepted that?"

"He already did, being omniscient and shit," the Shade replied, his voice tinged with resignation and a hint of bitterness, shaking his head in a dismissive gesture. "He did it to convince Eve and the Angels. Made 'em see my desperation, my willingness to fight for Eve, even in the most ridiculous fuckin' way. It was enough to show 'em our bond's worth preserving. Plus, the Garden was fucked beyond repair anyway, and I was gonna leave it anyway."

"It's like he set you up," Adam mused aloud, more to himself than to the Shade. "Testing your limits, seeing how far you'd go."

The Shade shrugged, a bitter smile playing on his lips. "Maybe. But in the end, it bought us another shot. And for that, I'm fuckin' grateful."

Adam nodded slowly, processing the Shade's words. Despite the rough exterior and crude language, there was a raw honesty in his tale. Despite his hatred for the shade, his love for his Eve was true. That he could respect.

"I guess that's something," Adam finally replied, his voice softening with understanding.

"Yeah," the Shade agreed, his tone quieter now, more contemplative. "Something."

"After that, Eve and I got our asses gently dumped by Jophiel onto Earth," the Shade continued, a wry grin spreading across his face as he recounted the next chapter of their journey. "We landed in some backwater place, a far cry from the paradise we once knew. No more pristine gardens or heavenly choirs—just mud, dust, and uncertainty."

Adam listened intently, a small smile on his face as he remembered his own expulsion. He could almost picture the scene: Eve, with her sky-blue eyes and flowing hair, and him, rough around the edges, navigating a world so different from the one they had known.

"Let's go." Adam had told her. "Together, we'll make a new paradise of our own."

"It wasn't easy," the Shade admitted, his grin fading into a more somber expression. "We struggled, scraped by. Eve blamed herself for everything, carried that guilt like a weight on her shoulders. And me? I just tried to keep her safe, keep us both alive."

Adam nodded empathetically, understanding the weight of guilt and responsibility all too well. "But you made it," he encouraged, wanting to hear the rest of their story.

The Shade nodded, a hint of pride flickering in his eyes. "Yeah, we did. We found a way to survive, to make a life for ourselves in this new world. It wasn't what we expected, but it was ours."

"The Shade nodded, a hint of pride flickering in his eyes. "Yeah, we did. We found a way to survive, to make a life for ourselves in this new world. It wasn't what we expected, but it was ours. And before long... we had our children. Twins—a son, Cain, and a daughter, Aclima."

Adam nodded, a sense of familiarity washing over him as he listened to the Shade's recounting. "Children," he echoed with a knowing smile. "Cain and Aclima."

The Shade returned his smile, recognizing the understanding in Adam's eyes. "Yeah, they were our pride and joy," he continued. "Raised them in a world where we had to fend for ourselves, teach them right from wrong, survival skills, and the importance of family."

Adam nodded thoughtfully. "It must have been... challenging," he ventured, reflecting on his own experiences as a father.

The Shade chuckled softly, a touch of wistfulness in his expression. "Oh, it was. Nearly had a fuckin' heart attack when Eve's water broke. Thought she was dyin'."

Adam raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What happened?"

The Shade took a deep breath, preparing to dive into the memory. "Well, we were just gettin' settled in, tryin' to make sense of our new life on Earth. Everything was still so new, so fuckin' different. One night, outta nowhere, Eve started screamin'. At first, I thought it was another goddamn nightmare. She had a lot of those, haunted by the memories of the Garden and all the shit that had happened."

Adam nodded, understanding the weight of those memories.

"But this was different," the Shade continued, his eyes distant as he recalled the events. "I rushed over, and she was clutchin' her stomach, her face twisted in pain. I had no fuckin' clue what was goin' on. All I could think was that somethin' was terribly wrong. My mind went to the worst places. I thought maybe some remnant of Roo was actin' up, that somethin' from the Garden had followed us and was now hurtin' her. I grabbed a rock, ready to fuck up whatever it was, but I had no clue how to help her."

Adam listened intently, feeling the Shade's panic as if it were his own.

"I tried to calm her down, but nothin' worked. Her screams got louder, and I felt more helpless by the second. I could see the fear in her eyes, and it mirrored my own. Then, she said somethin' about her stomach splittin' open. I was stunned, not sure if I heard her right. I mean, we knew she was pregnant, but we didn't expect it to happen so soon, and definitely not like this. We thought it'd be like how Eve was made: some light, a puff from her stomach, and boom, a human."

"The realization hit me like a ton of bricks," the Shade said, shaking his head with a rueful smile. "She wasn't dyin'; she was givin' birth. But I didn't know what the fuck to do. There were no midwives, no doctors, just us. I remembered some of the animals we had watched in the Garden givin' birth, but this was Eve. This was my wife, and I had to help her. So I did the only thing I could think of. I held her hand, whispered whatever fuckin' reassurances I could think of, and prayed to God that we'd both survive the night."

Adam's eyes widened as he imagined the chaos. Till now, it was mostly the same. His Eve was much calmer though. Instinctively, she knew what to do. Adam, on the other hand, well, his behavior that night had been used to tease him many times.

The Shade noticed Adam's expression and grinned. "Yeah, I bet your Eve handled it better, huh? Mine was tough as nails, but that night... fuck, it was something else. Your Eve, she just... knew what to do?"

Adam looked at him in confusion.

The Shade chuckled. "It's a two-way street, shorty. You get my emotional baggage shit, and I got a glimpse at your highlight reels."

Adam frowned, trying to process the idea. "You mean you...?"

"Yeah," the Shade interrupted, shaking his head. "I saw how your Eve handled it. Calm as fuck, like she had a goddamn manual for childbirth. Meanwhile, you were over there freakin' out like an idiot. You were even more twitchy than me."

Adam nodded, chuckling softly. "Yeah, she did. She was calm, collected. Me? I was a mess. She loves to remind me about how I was running around like a headless chicken, panicking over every little thing."

The Shade snorted, shaking his head before continuing his story. "Luckily, before either of us did somethin' stupid, Raphael and Jophiel showed up. Saved our asses, honestly."

"Thank God for that. What happened next?" Adam let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Then his words hit him. Why the hell did he thank a god? He hated them. Must've been the influence of the Shade. Thoughts for later. He turned his attention back to the Shade.

The Shade's eyes glinted as he looked at Adam. He noticed it too. "Well, Raphael took one look at us, shook his head, and got to work. Jophiel was there to help keep Eve calm. They handled it like it was nothin'. Meanwhile, I was a fuckin' mess. My hands were shakin', my mind was racin'. I kept thinkin' I'd lose her, that we'd fuck up somehow."

"Sounds about right. I was convinced something would go wrong, that I wouldn't be able to help her." Adam nodded, feeling the shared panic.

"Yeah, it's a fuckin' miracle we didn't screw everything up. But Raphael and Jophiel? They were like, 'Relax, we got this.' And they did. They guided Eve through it, kept me from losing my shit. Next thing I knew, there was this tiny, screaming life in my hands. Cain. And then, Aclima."

Adam couldn't help but feel a swell of pride at the thought of his children thriving in this new world. "They sound wonderful," he remarked genuinely.

"Oh, it was a shitshow, blondie." the shade laughed loudly, slapping his knee." But we fuckin' survived. Eve and I, we did our damnedest. Cain, he was a stubborn little shit, just like his old man. Aclima, bless her, had her mother's spirit—always nosy as fuck, asking questions about everything under the sun."

Leaning back, he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Raising 'em was like trying to navigate a minefield blindfolded. We had no fuckin' clue what we were doin'. Survivin' ourselves was hard enough, let alone raisin' kids. Cain was always pushin' boundaries, gettin' into trouble. And Aclima, she was like a sponge, soak-in' up every bit of chaos and curiosity."

"Eve tried teachin' 'em what she remembered from the Garden, them old stories. But shit, it all felt like ancient history, barely relevant. We were makin' it up as we went along, prayin' we weren't totally screwing 'em up." The Shade shook his head, a grizzled smile on his face.

Glancing at Adam, he gave a rough laugh. "You ever feel like you were just flyin' by the seat of your pants, hopin' to hell you weren't makin' a complete mess of it?"

Adam nodded empathetically, a wry smile forming on his lips. "Every day," he admitted, shaking his head. "I thought I was the only one stumbling through fatherhood."

The Shade snorted, a rough sound that carried both amusement and a hint of resignation. "Nah, man, you ain't alone in that. We were all just tryin' to figure it out as we went. Hell, half the time I felt like I was makin' it up to the kids as I went along."

"Yeah, it's like they absorb everything, even when we're not sure what we're doing ourselves." Adam nodded thoughtfully.