Devil Slave (Satan system)

Chapter 628 Lenny Tales, ‘Horror Worse Than The Nether’.

As they soared over what appeared to be mountains crafted from shadowy sands, Lenny and Athena traversed a realm devoid of wind, yet eerie particles of black Nether dust seemed to coalesce beneath them.

Athena elucidated that this phenomenon was the Dust of Lost Passions, a peculiar aspect of the Nether’s workings. In this ethereal space, not only were wandering souls lost, but also the dreams and aspirations of humanity found their way here, harboring resentments for their unfulfilled existence.

These unrealized dreams and ambitions congregated in the Nether, patiently awaiting an opportunity to exact vengeance upon reality, their unfulfilled creations serving as conduits for their dormant animosity.

The Dust of Lost Passions served as a manifestation of these unattained dreams, creating an atmosphere laden with the lingering emotions of aspirations never realized.

As they soared through the Nether, Lenny noticed intermittent dark sparks of lightning emanating from the dust below. Athena cautioned him, advising against becoming ensnared in the mysterious phenomena. “No matter what happens in this place, do not get lost in that. There is no telling what it would do to your mind!” she warned.

During their journey, the flying creature maneuvered through a mountain to evade potential threats from other nether creatures. Lenny keenly observed Athena’s body language throughout this process. Gladiators were known for their resilience, facing challenges head-on even when defeat seemed inevitable.

However, in Athena’s demeanor, Lenny detected an overwhelming fear that reminded him of a rabbit in the presence of a hungry lion. Every nuance of her being betrayed her anxiety – clenched fists, ragged breaths – as she struggled to conceal her fear, albeit unsuccessfully.

“How long have you been here?” Lenny asked as they continued their journey. “Since the last time I saw you, she answered.”?Lenny frowned at those words. The last time he saw her was when he had that issue with the souls inside Ciri and the Witches that wanted to kill him. Lenny could not imagine the kind of Horrors that she had been through to have become like this.

After all, the Athena that he knew was brave enough to even join him and stand against Cuban, who had not only been an oppressor but practically a god like existence in their lives.

A bit more and they found themselves in an enclosed cave. The moment that they reached, and the creature that they mounted landed on the ground, Athena turned about with a kick right for Lenny’s face. Lenny had seen the kick coming, but he intentionally did not stop her and allowed the kick to reach. She had given that kick with intensity and purpose.

A kick so strong that Lenny who was of such superior strength felt as if his face was going to twist and break his neck. he rolled on the ground as he smashed into the walls of the shadow mountain. The dust that formed its existence scattering like rocks.

Lenny, bloodied and battered, continued to endure Athena’s relentless assault. With every stab of her blade, his body yielded, blood fountaining out like a macabre display. She punctured his heart, his lungs, and any vulnerable place her blade could find. Lenny, however, made no move to stop her, absorbing the pain in silence. Athena’s anguished words accompanied each strike, a litany of grievances and losses.

“This is for Hector. For making me lose him. This is for leaving me to die in that fucking desert. And for not just killing me. This is for allowing me to suffer. For letting me and Minnie suffer,” she cried out between the stabbing blows.

As the onslaught continued, Athena eventually broke down into tears, her emotions pouring out onto Lenny’s battered form. By now, his body bore the gruesome marks of her assault, resembling more a canvas of despair than the visage of a man. The once-recognizable features were lost beneath the carnage, a testament to the depth of Athena’s pain and the toll it took on Lenny’s form.

As she cried, she fell on him, her salty tears and mucus mixing with the visage of his tattered being.

Still Lenny said nothing, and then after a while of tearing down, he sighed, “Have you finished… venting?” he asked, rather casually. 𝘪𝓇𝑎.

Slowly, she nodded as she raised his head to look at him. The look she saw made her shiver. This was a shiver that originated from her very soul.

It was not just the bloody smile laced with blood, but a nastiness that oozed from his body, so vile, so disgusting, and yet so proud that it arrested her very being.

Slowly, and shakily, she stood up from on top his body and as she did, Lenny rose to his feet.

He looked down on his body at the mess she had created.

“So its true; death does not exist here!” Lenny commented.

Through the opened wound on his chest, he dug his hand, properly opening his ribs, breaking and crashing them to reveal his heart underneath that she had decorated with blades.

Lenny looked and nodded. With the way she had decorated him with her blade, he should have been dead by now. But inside, he was not.

Truly, death did not exist in the Nether.

However, lenny wanted to test this theory even further.

He dug his hand into his chest, the feel of it slimy as it made squishy sounds.

With an aggressive pull, he ripped it out of his chest. As he did, he raised the beating organ to eye level and observed it closely. This was the first time that he saw his own heart, holding his own mortality in his hands.

On his heart however, lenny discovered that they was a symbol of sorts. it was not like any rune he had ever seen. Instinctively, he knew that this was the mark of the Morningstar on him. The mark of the Devil on him.

However, he could not help but crack into a chuckle as he looked at his own heart. And then he did something unexpected. He crushed it…