Table of Contents
Chapter 17 l Chapter 18 l Chapter 19 l Chapter 20 l Chapter 21 l Chapter 22 l Chapter 23
Chapter 24 l Chapter 25 l Chapter 26 l Chapter 27 l Chapter 28 l Chapter 29 l Chapter 30

Ragna

My voice caught in my throat as I heard my mother ask me something I didn’t want to answer.

What was I going to tell her? ‘Well mom, after countless years I whittled down my brother’s faith to the point where he’s now the leader of all of the Damned souls on the mortal plane and is plotting to destroy Heaven and Earth.’

My salvation came from slow clapping at the top of the stairs.

My savior had arrived, though he appeared as Forcas, flanked by Asmodai and Sara.

Sara and Asmodai’s armor were covered in dirt, grime and blood. Forcas wasn’t as dirty. Forcas had a fine coating of dust covering him and it appeared he had a wound on his abdomen. While it wept, it didn’t appear to bother him.

“My Empress Ragna. I must say, however you managed to pull us out when you did was exemplary!” Forcas furrowed his bushy white eyebrows at me, “Though the other denizens of the Temple do not seem to understand how your cunning has worked to their advantage.”

My mother narrowed her eyes on Forcas, “If you wouldn’t mind, I’m having a conversation with my daughter.”

“My sincerest apologies. Introductions are in order,” Forcas said as he approached, his hand casually covering the wound on his midsection as he approached, and bowed, “I am Forcas, Former Duke of the Infernal Hellfire and now reinstated Angel of God.”

Asmodai scoffed, “Or so you say.”

“My rude comrade is Lord Asmodai,” Forcas said as he straightened himself, “The dedicated servant of Empress Ragna Misho.”

I flinched as Forcas used my title and I watched my mother’s eye twitch ever so slightly in agitation.

“Beside him is the Lovely Sara Baker, his life partner and Inquisitor of the Infernal Planes,” Forcas concluded.

“Inquisitor?!” Sara snapped, “I’m not anymore, okay! That was like… One time!”

My mother, Yuki, spoke firmly. The tone only an enraged mother could have.

Not a tone of anger, but a tone that implied considerable consequences in the near future, “Forcas, it’s nice to meet you… And I appreciate your attempts to make up for your rude interruption, but as I stated: I am having a discussion with my daughter.”

Forcas’s tone now shifted downward, “Of course, Ma’am,” He said curtly, “However, our Empress has only begun the first phase of her machinations and I assume that her next steps will require coordination with The Guardian Temple’s leadership. As such, I feel that your reunion could stand to wait another several minutes.”

My mother growled loudly, “Okay, no! First off, the people who are running this place, if you haven’t noticed, are a bit pissed off with Sellenia at the moment! And secondly, I have only one question I need answered before I’ll let my Daughter get back to whatever it is she thinks is important,” she turned to me, her blue eyes burning with intensity.

Despite her being so much shorter than me, being caught in that stern gaze made me feel so very small.

“Where is Kriggary?” She demanded.

I swallowed hard and closed my eyes, trying to find the words. “…He’s gone.”

It was the best way I could describe it.

“He isn’t in Heaven, Sellie, and I know for damn sure he’s not going to be in Hell!” My mother Yuki shouted.

I opened my eyes, looking at her with remorse.

“And don’t you dare try and tell me that that monster Xyphiel is my son! He would never do such terrible things!” My mother hissed.

Thankfully Geoffrey stepped in, “Mom… She’s not lying. Kriggary…” He sighed, “He’s gone. He’s basically been destroyed.”

My mother shook her head, her long blond hair shifting flawlessly, “I refuse to believe that’s even possible!”

Sara’s voice chimed in, “I mean… I’ve seen Lucifer do it.”

I turned to Sara as if she had just dropped an entire plate of glassware on the floor in the middle of a restaurant.

The room was completely silent.

Sara cleared her throat, “Lucifer destroyed a Fallen Dei named Azrael.”

My mother paused, turning to her slowly, “Wait, as in Officer Azrael Palma?”

Sara lifted an eyebrow, “Wait, you knew him?!”

My mother turned away, “We… Ran into each other once.”

“Were you close?” Sara asked.

My mother shuddered, “…Closer than I’d have liked, that’s for certain,” she changed the subject, concern crossing her face, “What of him?”

“Lucifer destroyed him completely right in front of me,” Sara shivered, “It was a pretty terrifying thing to witness. One moment he was there and then…” Sara made a vanishing gesture with her hands.

My mother was silent, “So, if Kriggary was destroyed, who did it?”

In unison, Geoffrey and I both said: “Xyphiel.”

My mother closed her eyes, “I refuse to believe anyone can be destroyed completely. I’m sure even Palma’s spirit is somehow still around.”

“I’ve heard methods of drawing one’s essence from the void of nothing,” Asmodai began, “But it is not something I know anyone on this earth has knowledge of,” Asmodai turned to me, “It would require someone to understand the depths of the shadows, to be intimate with it,” he gave me a knowing glare.

I narrowed my eyes on him, “Hold your tongue.”

Asmodai stopped speaking and turned to Sara.

Sara cleared her throat, “Well… Don’t look at me, I don’t know anything about that.”

Forcas gave a nod, “Speculation on the impossible gets us nowhere. In the meantime, I suggest we bring our esteemed Empress to the Archangels to further strategize.”

I scoffed, “I doubt they’re going to want anything to do with me.”

From behind Asmodai I heard a soft voice filled with a level of disdain and venom I was growing accustomed to, “In that case, you would be wrong, Daughter of Lucifer.”

I turned to see a Niten Dragon, of sorts.

Their scales were jet black, they wore white robes, and in one claw a massive scythe was held, on the other hand a tome.

Two more arms were below those, and this wasn’t the strangest part.

Where I’d expect one neck there sprouted three. Each with a matching head which differed only in the style of horns which adorned their heads.

Though each head spoke, the voice that echoed from them was so synchronized I could barely tell how many were speaking, “Archangel Michael requests your presence, Empress Ragna.”

…

I walked through the halls of The Guardian Temple with Geoffrey, Sara, Forcas, and Asmodai behind me as we reached a very well guarded room. My Mother staying behind, with the promise to speak with Geoffrey and myself later on.

There a pair of angels stood firm, narrowing their eyes to me, “You have been requested, Empress Ragna. Your defiled servants have not.”

I returned their stern glare, “Greater Angels than you have tried and failed to stop me, in these very halls.”

Gabriel growled with one head and hissed with another before they spoke, “We haven’t time for your pride, Ragnarök,”

I glanced at Gabriel, “These are my most trusted soldiers. They will not lay a finger on Michael.”

“Oh, and how can we be so certain?” Gabriel asked, “You’re not the most trustworthy.”

I didn’t break my gaze as I focused on the eyes of the center-most head of Gabriel, “You are all alive, and here, because I wished to save St. Michael. Do not think I would risk him any harm by my own hand.”

One of Gabriel’s head’s lips quivered in anger before they looked to the two angels, giving them a nod.

The Angels bowed low and opened the doors for us.

As I walked in, I saw Saint Michael laying on the bed.

His blue scales shimmering in the lights within, some stained with golden blood. Blackened veins ran from a wound in his chest and up his long scaled neck.

Xyphiel had pierced his chest, maybe even caught a lung. But Xyphiel missed St. Michael’s heart.

“You wanted to see me,” I began, “Uncle?”

I heard a shout from Sara, “I’m sorry-UNCLE?!”

St. Michael’s head lifted weakly from the bed and he grinned at me, “Ragna…”

I approached St. Michael’s sick bed, turning to the red Niten Drake who tended to his wounds, “How bad?”

Red eyes glared up to me, a hiss escaping his lips before words began to slip through, “The corruption of the Puriel Blade is irrevocable. At this point, we must sever Saint Michael’s ties to the mortal plane. It is his only chance to survive.”

I looked at St. Michael, “Is there nothing that can heal you here? My son told me of the Fountain…”

“To use the Fountain’s healing mana would fuse St. Michael’s mind, body and spirit!” The Red nite snapped, “It would send the corruption of the Puriel Blade deeper into St. Michael’s essence, ensuring his complete destruction!”

St. Michael lifted a clawed hand to the Red Niten Drake, “Saint Raphael… Enough. She is only attempting to help. She knows not what she does.”

I closed my eyes and took a measured breath, “You called for me?”

“Yes,” St. Michael wheezed as he drew a weak breath, “I wanted to ask you an important question. One that will determine the course of this war.”

“Ask,” I sighed.

“When you fought your way through the Tower of Pride, many in Heaven were blind to where you went. Your final tribulation, what was it?” St. Michael asked.

“I fought a version of myself,” I turned from him, “A version of myself who, apparently, lived in the Guardian Temple. A purer version of me.”

St. Michael heaved a labored sigh, “And when you faced yourself, did you still suffer the curse your father had placed upon you? The restriction of your ascended power?”

I gave St. Michael a nod.

St. Michael’s face turned somber as he looked up to the ceiling, “We have failed.”

I took a turn to ask, “Who was that? That version of me, that is.”

“That,” St. Michael whispered, without looking at me, his eyes fixed high above us, “Was what you would have become, had you followed me. Had I taught you, as I had considered when we fought Lucifer on Nite.”

“You mean, as your replacement?” I asked.

St. Michael closed his eyes, a tear rolling down his cheek, “Yes. My apprentice.”

I was silent for a moment, “Why does that determine the course of this war? Why do you consider it a failure?”

“Because…” St. Michael trailed off, “She was destined to be the strongest angel of The Guardian Temple, even of all of Heaven,” he turned to me, eyes desperate, “Yet you defeated her, even without your ascended power.”

I held his gaze, not breaking it, as I took his hand, “Yes. And Now I’m on your side. As is my Daughter, Zepherina.”

St. Michael smiled weakly, “That is our hope now.” He glanced at Raphael, “You heard it. The demons are stronger than we could have imagined. Now, send me back.”

“Wait,” I shouted, “No, I did all of this to save you!”

“He cannot be saved!” Raphael snapped, “He has been run through with the Puriel blade! None can survive such a blow!”

“Demond did,” I narrowed my eyes on him, “He lost an arm.”

“His brother suffered for it, for him,” Gabriel whispered, “Because of that, Elon’s spirit suffered and he died that day. A true death,” Gabriel’s voices were a mix of somber and prideful, “Elon’s soul, even now, is missing an arm. But he has gained far more from his sacrifice than he has lost.”

I heard Sara scoff behind me.

Gabriel’s heads growled, “Do not make light of my love’s sacrifice, whore!”

Sara turned to look at Gabriel, “I ain’t trying to tell you that your boyfriend wasn’t brave, but uh… You totally can survive getting whacked with the Puriel Blade. I’ve seen it,” Sara boasted.

I turned to Sara, “Explain, Sara.”

Sara looked around, “What, none of you can survive it? Bullshit!” Sara shouted, “Belial took that sword to the gut when Lucifer got testy with him and he walked it off like, two weeks later or so… I dunno, time’s weird in Hell,” Sara looked to Raphael, “But, two things: One, that means you can survive, and Two, I nabbed Belial a few weeks ago. So he’s here, and I have no problem making him squeal,” Sara grinned wickedly.

Forcas chuckled, “That’s Lucifer’s personal Inquisitor for you.”

Gabriel looked up, “Vael, we require your assistance.”

Vael melted from the wall, appearing above us, “What is it you wish, Archangel Gabriel?”

“Bring us Belial, the former lord of Lust,” Gabriel demanded, “We have questions for him.”

“Of course,” Vael said, bowing.

For a moment, Vael didn’t move.

I approached Vael, noticing their jeweled eyes appeared to have widened in shock. “Vael?”

“I am sorry,” Vael said flatly, “Belial is no longer within the Guardian Temple.”

I felt a sudden heat radiating from behind me, and turned to see Sara’s black armor pulsing with green fire.

“I’m Sorry… What?!” Sara screamed, green flame pulsing from her body and puffing up from her horns as she glared at Vael, “I practically Gift Wrapped that motherfucker for you, and you let him escape?!” Sara roared in anger.

Forcas grabbed Sara by the shoulders, “Calm down!”

“I ain’t calming down!” Sara shouted, “That rat-bastard is why I’m the way I am! He’s the reason I suffered in Hellfire! After all this fucking time I finally caught the sonnava bitch and you let him fuckin’ escape?!” Sara pushed Forcas’s hands off of her shoulders, turning on her hoof, “Fuck all of yah! I’m going to hunt him down and kill that prick myself!” Sara stormed out of the room.

Raphael frowned, “If Belial knew of a way, I do not think we have the time to wait for him to be found.”

Asmodai nodded and approached the foot of St. Michael’s bed, turning to Vael, “The waters cannot remove the corruption. Only spread it like oil. Corruption must be burned away, yes?”

Vael gave a nod, “But more than corruption would burn.”

Asmodai turned to St. Michael, “Your death is something my Mistress wishes to prevent. Even now, however, I can see that your body and soul have been injured.”

I looked to the blackened veins running along St. Michael’s neck.

St. Michael nodded, “I had feared as such.”

“But there is a way to save you,” Asmodai explained, “Some of you, at least.”

St. Michael glanced at Asmodai and Vael, “And what do the former Swords of Samael suggest?”

Asmodai turned to Vael, his fiery green eyes pulsing as he grinned, “Vael… Can The Guardian Temple make a Soul Forge?”

Vael nodded, their eyes calming, “Yes. I believe it can.”

…

Belial

The Guardian Temple shook and I watched as the bars lost their holy protection.

I grinned, flicking the feather in my hand out of the bars with a wicked grin, “The Gates of Heaven open… and the one who controls the Temple has been destroyed to do so.”

I stood, knocking the bars back easily. Without their holy reinforcements from Samael, they were nothing but tissue paper to me.

I had been waiting diligently for this moment.

I turned to the neighboring cell, where Bernardo DelAvanna sat, “Come human, you can be my latest acolyte.” I said as I ripped the door from its hinges.

Bernardo smiled as he walked out, “Oh, Lord Belial, you are too kind.”

The floor around us began to pulse, “Seems we need to make haste,” I announced as I grabbed Bernardo and rushed quickly up the stairs.

The temple was mostly empty now, the majority of the inhabitants having left for the grand battle.

As I rushed past the Mana Fountain and the Expanse, I continued up the stairs.

Freedom awaited me!

I let go of Bernardo as I reached to foyer, and crossed it quickly, rushing to the doors.

I pulled, but they did not open.

“Damn you…” I hissed.

“The Faithful can use the doors,” Bernardo offered, with a smile, “But there is a trick to them, if the legends are true. True love will guide you to where you wish to be.”

I lifted my lip in disgust, “I see. So we’re trapped.”

Bernardo moved to the doors, smiling, “My child…” He said mockingly, placing his hands on the door, and closing his eyes reverently, “Have faith.”

Bernardo pushed the doors open.

I rushed out, finding myself standing in an empty room fashioned into some sort of Throne room.

Green tapestries lined the room, along with a number of well kept rugs. I could smell the scent of Wrath within this place. Not the same stink as Asmodai, of course. This was easier on my nose. A more refined sort of anger lingered through the room.

“Ah!” Bernardo called out, “My daughter remembered!” He shouted as he approached a large painting on the wall.

I glanced up to it, seeing a crudely drawn figure holding another. The figure, despite its lack of detail, appeared shocked and horrified as it devoured the head of another body.

“The black painting, Jupiter Devours His Son,” Bernardo grinned to me, “She kept it.”

I turned around, seeing the Temple Doors had already vanished behind us, “You used the love for your daughter to push past them…?”

“I made sure to always love my Bella, my beautiful, now powerful daughter, as much as possible,” Bernardo turned to me, “Love is God’s greatest power,” He turned to the throne with a sly grin, “And His weakness.”

I glanced around the mostly empty room.

Much like the Guardian Temple, this location of the Vatican was likely deserted for the clash with Heaven and Hell.

To add to it: My Father let those doors open and let me through here.

It was very likely that, if I remained in this place, I would suffer His wrath. “We must go,” I informed Bernardo.

“No,” Bernardo chuckled, “I am going to see my daughter. If I’m to be anyone’s acolyte, it is hers.”

Bernardo was not worth the effort.

I was not going back to hell, “Very well. Wait for her here. I shall collect a few things in the meantime.”

“I shall await your return,” Bernardo said with a low bow.

I left, snickering to myself, “Fool, I never said I was coming back.”

With the first opened door I found, I was in the air, flying far away from The Vatican and out into the surrounding city.

Someday the Lord of Flesh, Belial, will regain his lost throne. But until that day?

I would be but a memory to both Heaven and Hell.

…

Bella

Victory tasted unsettling.

While plenty of angels had died, Xyphiel’s killing blow was not received. At least, not confirmed.

St. Michael.

It was prophesied his death would lead to seven centuries of darkness. In that time, Xyphiel would likely find a way to rip the gates of Heaven down.

Though I feared it would be sooner than that.

Shortly after Ragna had vanished, we found Astaroth.

He was injured, his insides hanging out of his body, as if he were wild game hung from a tree.

Astaroth wheezed, “Lord Xyphiel… Lady Bella.”

“Lord Bella,” I sneered. I was no Lady. At least not in the sense he implied.

Xyphiel’s gaze was rueful and I knew Astaroth would take the brunt of his anger, “I am not shocked that Zelletia and La Cruz fell. They were green, not yet fully seated in this power. Not yet fully attuned to their sins. But you? You have been the Avatar of Gluttony for millennia and you fail me?”

Astaroth groaned, looking up to Xyphiel, “I killed many a saint and Angel alike!”

“Yet a mere Saint has done this to you?!” Xyphiel bellowed, “The old guard is weak. Lucifer was a fool to entrust you lot, as was I.” Xyphiel took a deep breath, flexing his golden clad fist, “But this is an error I shall rectify.”

Astaroth staggered to his feet, wheezing out, “I shall not fail you again, Lord Xyphiel.”

Xyphiel thrust his hand into Astaroth’s empty gut, a crimson light filling Astaroth’s empty body cavity.

Astaroth let loose a cry of pain as I watched his body snap in half at the spine. His form folded, flesh ripping and tearing. Even as his flesh was torn, I watched his face grow thin and weak, his hulking body mummifying as the sickening snaps grew drier and harsher.

Astaroth’s corpse was ripped to pieces as Xyphiel drew him into the seal, snapping his hand shut quickly before he turned to me, his eyes pulsing with new found power.

Out of sheer self preservation, I knelt before him.

Xyphiel barely acknowledged me as I heard someone else kneel by my side.

The new Avatar of Lust, Khairunnisa.

I barely paid her mind as I looked up to Xyphiel, his crimson eyes burning. “Belphegor. Where is he?”

“I assume where we left him, My Lord,” I said, bowing my head, “In the Vatican.”

Xyphiel nodded, spreading his wings, “Rip this city to bits, sunder it completely,” He pointed to the large Capitol building behind us, “But leave a single throne in that building be. Ragna will return here, and when she does, my forces will be ready for her.”

With that, he took to the air.

Khairunnisa slowly rose up to her hooves, “Glorious day, isn’t it? When we triumph.”

“The enemy wasn’t defeated,” I reminded, “It was a tactical retreat. Hardly a victory.”

A well sculpted eyebrow rose on Khairunnisa’s flawless face, “Oh? Is that why our Master is cross?” Khairunnisa licked her lips, “Perhaps he would enjoy the relief I could provide him. Carnal pleasures have a way of making one forget bad events.”

“Is that your game to suck up to him?” I asked, grinning, “It only works for so long.”

“Speaking from experience?” Khairunnisa chided, her yellow eyes fixed on me.

I narrowed mine, “Watch your tongue, leech. Before I rip it from your head.”

Khairunnisa lifted her hand to her mouth, chuckling, “Oh my my, Bella! Did I touch a nerve?” Khairunnisa leaned in close to me, whispering hotly, “Or are you afraid I’ll take your place and then you’ll have nothing to offer our Lord?”

I gritted my teeth and growled low, feeling the heat of my anger rise so much that even Khairunnisa had to step back.

“Seems that did touch a nerve,” Khairunnisa turned, “I’ll leave you to smolder, then.”

As she walked away, I growled at her, “He’s not going to be satisfied! He’ll take Belphegor next! Then what?”

Khairunnisa turned glancing at me over her shoulder, “Oh my, Our Lord rewards Loyalty and results. I do not think he would be pleased to hear such dissent from you, Bella.”

I narrowed my eyes on her, “It was a warning to you, slut.”

Khairunnisa grinned to me, “Take your own advice, darling Bella,” Khairunnisa laughed haughtily, “I plan to make myself irreplaceable. I suggest you do the same!” With that, she flew off.

I clenched my fist and teeth, growling. My rage roiled inside my chest, but I had to take a step back.

The fire within me was hot enough where I felt my flesh burn.

I cast my hand to the ground, a circle forming around my feet. Soon I was back in the Vatican, before my throne room.

My halls of Wrath.

There I spotted Mia, my bald little demoness, fretting about, “My Dark Lord! You’ve returned,” she bowed low.

Sitting on my throne, I turned to see Serenity, cleaning off her bloodied bow-staff.

“Why are you here?” I asked, narrowing my eyes on the little science experiment.

Serenity glanced up to me, “Oh, you survived? That wasn’t really expected,” she paused, turning her head, “Did they run away or something?”

“Your master is on his way home, why don’t you run and greet him?” I suggested.

Serenity giggled, “Master’s arriving home? Excellent! Oh I cannot wait to hear of how the battle went.”

I chuckled to myself as the oblivious automaton wandered off.

I turned to Mia, “Why didn’t you stop her from defiling my seat?”

“She claimed I lacked the authority,” Mia said curtly, though she still seemed worried.

“I do not care who sits in my damn chair when I’m not here, Mia,” I hissed.

Still Mia’s resolve wasn’t recovering, “T-That is not why I am concerned, Lord Bella. Y-You see… You have a visitor.”

“A visitor?” I asked.

A loud pair of hands clasped together, the loud and distinct clap of a pair of heavy, calloused hands coming firmly together in the air shocked a deep memory in me.

The voice that followed continued it.

“My Bella!” The voice of my father called out.

I turned, shocked to see my father standing there in a set of burned bishop clothing. My heart skipped a beat. I recognized the clothing. They were the same robes of the Bishop that Father Thomas had entered into the Vatican prison.

It was odd how I could recall so clearly. Though I had never gotten a look at his face. I was too focused and enraged to see Father Thomas there.

“F-Father?” I stammered, shocked to see him.

My father, Bernardo, laughed, “Yes, my daughter…” he approached me, his hands lifted up in praise as he craned his neck to see me, “You look magnificent! A True Demoness!”

My toothy grin failed me as my jaw hung open, heart fluttering in my chest as I felt my stomach drop down to my knees.

Bernardo DelAvanna alive? “What? H-How?!” I stammered, attempting to find the words.

My father walked around the room, admiring my throne, and glancing at the large wall where I had the black painting of Jupiter Devouring his Son.

“You even found the painting desirable, eh?” My father laughed.

“You died,” I whispered, “The Mafia… They took their pound of flesh from you when you couldn’t pay your debts.”

My father laughed, “You think I was the pound of flesh?” He shook his head, sighing, “Mia figlia,

Bella… I wasn’t the pound of flesh. That was your mamma.”

My jaw clamped shut, “What?!”

“You think those men found your mother and you on their own?” He shrugged, “I offered her up, of course, in exchange for them leaving you be.”

My stomach churned as he spoke.

“All to lay the groundwork for your rise to power, my dear! Your Madre was a small price to pay to achieve your ascension,” He smiled to me, “And look at you! A Lord of Hell!”

“The Lord of Wrath,” I corrected.

My father smiled wide, “Yes. Mia figlia! Oh, how proud I am of you! Everything worked out perfectly as I had designed it!”

“As… You designed it?” I gasped.

“Yes!” He clapped his hands together, the sound reverberating through the room, “You, Mia figlia, there watching them abuse your mother, understanding the hatred for mortal men. Around her neck, a charm of Arioch, to ensure his spirit could enter her empty vessel once defiled.”

I felt a burning heat swelling within me as he spoke. My heart was hammering in my chest.

“You stumbled across my inept former student who had stolen my title,” My father grinned to me, “That being, Immunda.”

The heat rose, so much so I thought I was about to breathe fire.

“And you, Mia Figlia, Bella!” He clapped happily, “You manipulated him flawlessly! Used him as your shield, your cover as you did just as I knew you would!”

His words rang in my ears, “Just as I knew you would.”

I finally managed enough self control to speak, “You… Used me?”

“No, I wouldn’t say I used you,” My Father chuckled, “I would say I designed this fate for you, my daughter! For I would not settle on being a mere warlock! That was not the fate I had designed for myself! No, I would be a master of Hellfire. A true Lord of Hell!” He pointed to me, grinning, “And now we shall do so, together! Padre e figlia!” He laughed, grinning ear to ear as he did so.

His laughter gave way to a numbness in my ears. A ringing.

All around me the dark spirits I had bent to my will began to slither away from me in utter fear.

Their fear fueled me and the heat rose within.

The numbness grew into a loud burning sound, like a roaring fire drowning out my father’s laughter as my thoughts raced through my mind.

He used me.

No.

No, I was the one in control! Me!

But that wasn’t true, was it? I was never in control.

Never once.

I was under my father’s will or Xyphiel’s.

Even when I thought I had my own agency I didn’t. It wasn’t me.

I walked along a trench my father had dug for me. A trench too deep to climb out of.

He led me to Arioch like a lamb to the slaughter. Like a lamb, I followed my shepherds to an inevitable ending.

Immunda was my father’s student? A failed experiment perhaps? Immunda was a complete fool, but that gave me questions as to how old my father was.

How long had he existed? Was I the first attempt that managed to succeed in achieving his goals?

Would he use me even more? He said he wished to be a Lord of Hell.

There were so many openings now. If he spoke to Xyphiel and explained what he had done to me… Xyphiel would bestow upon him any number of sin’s to control.

As Envy? His desire for power certainly could fit that bill. Gluttony as well, that would be more apt, he desired power and had no qualms sacrificing anyone for it. But perhaps with his lust for power, Greed would fit his coveting more.

“Bella?” My father’s voice finally broke me out of my reverie.

I gazed down at my father, looking down on him from the increased stature of my demonic form. The form he claimed he had willed upon me. My large hands sat firmly on his shoulders.

When had I done that?

The burning in my chest had not subsided. If anything, it had grown.

Grown so much I felt the fire and heat more than I did my own heartbeat or blood.

“I’m sorry, Father… I was just thinking of what sort of Lord of Hell you’d make,” I whispered.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Black Painting.

I locked my eyes with the desperate eyes of Jupiter within.

“And what have you decided, Mia figlia, Bella?” He asked softly.

The heat within began to spread and I gripped his shoulders firmer.

“Careful, Mia figlia… Your strength is immeasurable! You could hurt me,” My father winced.

“I’m sorry, papà,” I whispered, “I’ve decided you’re to join me. We’ll be together, forever.”

My father laughed as I lifted him up, though his laughing ceased as I brought him to my mouth, looking down at him. “B-Bella? What are yo-” My father glanced at the picture, “No! Bella no! Smettila, sono tuo padre!”

“You are my father, but you’re also a rival,” I spat as I opened my mouth and brought my jaws down on his shoulders.

I could feel his arm pushing up on my jaw, his other hanging out and my eyes moved to the picture.

“Jupiter devours his Son. Wrath devours her father,” I thought as his screams filled my throat.

I closed my jaws and felt the hot coppery rush of blood fill my maw.

His hand was grasping as he began to choke on his own blood.

I swallowed him whole from there.

I could feel him struggle. One arm, a shoulder and his head.

Soon, oh too soon, he stopped moving.

I devoured the rest of him and as I swallowed, the heat from my chest exploded.

I roared in anger.

My entire life, all I had wanted was to seize control back from those who had taken it from me!

From the men who wanted to sell me, the demons who owned my soul, the church who stole my freedom! But when I had achieved what I thought was freedom, even now I am enslaved! Even when I thought I was free, I only fulfilled my father’s will!

Now I am under the thumb of Xyphiel.

The heat pulses out from my chest, hotter and hotter with each beat of my heart.

Now pulsing through my veins I felt hot, burning liquid. A fuel burning within me.

The fire ripped through my body and I felt my feet lift up off the ground as light flashed in my eyes.

The lava-like blood tore through me and burned away at me.

Yet I felt there was more left behind.

My vision cleared. The room was scorched, but I saw the spirits around me begin to slither forth from the charred marble walls.

Green flames danced on the ceiling, walls and radiated over the large painting on the wall.

I saw it was mostly intact, though fire flickered around the edges.

My feet touched the ground and as they did the entire building shivered.

I could not feel my heart beating now. Only the fiery pulsing of Wrath within me.

I could feel it.

I thrust my hands out, and as they rushed forward I felt my rage burning through the veil of the physical world. My eyes locked forward, and I clenched my fists tightly around a pulsing energy.

I pushed my hatred forward, my vengeance satisfied, for once.

But at the same time, my desire to further my vengeance, my retribution on all who dared to cross me again.

For such a task, I needed an old ally.

I pulled my hands back, and as I did, the echoing screams of thousands filled my throne room as I drew the essence from the shadows before me.

With a sickening thud, Arioch’s form crashed to the floor at my feet.

I took a step back, looking over my nose at him as I let the power of my vengeance reform him.

Arioch roared, flesh peeling back from his face as a large canine skull pushed forward, free of any skin. Massive ribbed horns curled from the top of his head as his huge leathery wings spread behind him.

Arioch’s skin was as black as shadow, his fists slamming down to the floor, “B-Belial…” he hissed.

“I have reforged your spirit from the shadows, Arioch, a favor repaid,” I spoke, my voice shaking the air around me.

Arioch looked upon me, his yellow eyes flickering in the empty sockets. “…Wrath has crowned you, Bella,” He said with admiration, bowing his head, “I serve the Lord of Wrath and my savior. I am yours, Lord Bella.”

“Mia!” I roared. So much so I could see my voice radiate over the spirits, who paused only momentarily before they continued to draw nearer to me. All of them encircled me, bowing in servitude.

Mia rushed out from behind the throne, “Y-Yes Mistress?!”

“Mirror!” I bellowed.

Mia rushed off and within a few short moments dragged a large mirror before me.

I stood naked, but changed.

My body was tall, lean and devoid of any human-like features. My breasts lacked nipples, my crotch lacked any shape what-so-ever. But I appeared human.

Aside from the black feathery wings which sprouted from my back, wreathed in green fire.

The same fire which I noticed, immediately filled my eyes.

There was nothing but two fiery orbs within my eye sockets, yet now I could see clearer than I had ever seen before.

I did not need anyone to tell me what had happened as I snapped my fingers, the spirits wrapping around me, writhing me in blackened armor.

The armor made my feet appear as hooves, my shoulders bearing cutting blades and a chain-mail lined cloak soon cascaded behind me, landing firmly on the ground with a subtle shiver, not unlike coins striking the floor.

I lifted my hands to my black hair, which was long and smooth. Spirits there manifested into a black and green crown.

“M-Mistress,” Mia stammered, “W-What happened to you?”

“Today, I’ve taken my mantle as a Lord of Hell,” my voice echoed through my throne room, “A Lord who will spare no one from her Wrath.”