Monarch of Darkness, Arsene

Metatron’s broad shoulders trembled as he bowed his head when a laugh thundered through this false world. He lifted his head, his smile bearing rows of pearly white teeth: “Arsene… I am trying to give you an out. I am trying not to outright declare war.”

“But you can’t.” I told him, “I am the link between the Abyss and the Myriad. Let me ask you something. How many resources will it take for me to levy all the votes within the Council of Omnis? An offer of Abyssal Resources, what God in their right mind would reject me? I have a monopoly on all things Abyssal. And you can’t outright kill me. The Night, the Moon, the Light, and the Fallen will protect me.”

“Then there is Nessa,” I casually mentioned. “The only land in the Myriad that possess Abyssal Resources. So tell me, Metatron, what can you do to me?”

The Scribe of Heaven’s shoulders stilled, and his rage-filled expression chilled: “Your arrogance will be your undoing.”

“Lots of bitches keep telling me that. But here I am. Metatron… Mate. It seems to me you’re reaching. Honestly, it’s pathetic. You’re like a whore begging with her legs spread wide. Sorry. I’ve offended the whores. You’re more like a cucked bastard, begging me to fuck his wife.” I spat over the ground, granting him the finger: “Now send me back. We are done.”

Ahhh~ That felt so good.

Metatron chuckled dryly: “I told them… I told them this wouldn’t work. You can’t negotiate with a devil, much less a Tarnish bastard like you. Filthy vermin like you— ”

“You done? Cuz I don’t want to hear it.’ I interjected, cleaning out my ear. I shrugged: ” You are free to come at me, Metatron. And can I call you Meg? Like from that animated tv-show? You seem like Meg… Shut up, Meg. Better yet, can I call you Mega Tron? That could be your first and last name. Awesome, right?” ．

Pausing as I looked at his flushed expression, my eyes glittered: ” My God, your cheeks even glow like a bitch in heat. Bro, I don’t swing like that. Although, I’m sure I can find you a man if you like. And not to get political, but aren’t you an Angel? How are you, homo—”

Bursting into a symphony of laughter as Metatron exploded in a fury that distorted this dreamscape, his roar withered the realm, tearing at the fabric of this false reality.

“MEG!!! ” I howled, in laughter through the whirlwind of spiraling essence: “What pissed you off more? Me calling you gay or me calling you a pitiful worm that likes being cucked. You know it’s alright to be gay nowadays, right? Although, I’ve never met a man whose ok being cucked. Sooooo~”

“You bastard!!!” Metatron barked, rising into the air like a god of wind. He glared, bearing down at me with something sinister in his eye. “I tried to play nice! Tried to show you respect, yet you!!!”

“Yeah-Yeah. Why don’t you ask me how many fucks I give? Answer. None. And for making my life harder than it needs to be… I’m going to send my son off to have your wife or harem cucked. I don’t want to stain my dick like that, but perhaps Zaid might be interested.”

The madness in Metatron’s eye shimmered more brightly than any star as in the skies of this dreamscape, hundreds of thousands of scarlet eyeballs sprang into creation. A chill, unlike anything I’d ever felt before, tickled my bones.

“You can have him, Lords of the Dreamless Night,” The Seraphim declared. Leading those scarlet eyes to brighten with joy. He looked at me, saying: ” I didn’t lie when I told you I can’t harm you, but they can.”

“Again. Not a single fuck given. Why are you explaining yourself?” I pointed out, opening my palm. I called upon Zariels Blessing. Transforming this dreamscape into an endless abyss of weaving intertwining with one another. A stirring calmness overcame me once more.

The moment I activated this blessing, Zariel should know of my troubles. For this blessing to work, Zariel must understand the Wieve, not me.

“Brother of the Silver Devil! We’ve finally have you.” A dark, sickly voice sprang from the distorted void around me. “How many moons have we waited? How many cycles of time? You are finally owers.”

Collecting data for Zariel, shards of darkness began to flicker through the void into my palm, flashing like the rustling of shadows.

“Who are you? You seem to have some hatred towards my little brother. Care to tell me why?” I patiently said, sensing two divergent paths connecting within me.

The core of my being and this dreamscape were connecting. It was becoming a reality.

“I am Dreamless.” The man said, in a raspy tone: ” And I will be your warden in this hell in which escape will never find you.”

With a scuff, I felt the connection grow more intense; the shards of darkness within my palm began to thicken with Abyssal radiance. I peered at the thousand eyes and pushed down the apprehension of the unknown gripping my soul.

It was odd he was able to invade my hell and pull me into this dreamscape, but for some reason, he had not obliviated me. Something else must be going on. Perhaps it has to do with my physical body.

“Are you trying to pull me out of Hell?” I asked.

“It will seem you are not as dumb as you appear.” the One name Dreamless said darkly.

And Metatron frowned: “Do not waste time Dreamless. The Kings and Lords of Hell will surely take note by now.”

An attack on the spiritual level and physical. How annoying. But… I do get to try out my spear. Zaid was just two squishy.

Focusing upon my blood, the strands of hair along my back rose alongside the webs of scarlet energy abyssal in nature from my flesh. The void shook and cracked, parting like the red sea around me.

“Guess there goes one trump card.” I mused, staring into the eyes of Metatron. “From this point on… Heavens Gate and the Second Layer of Hell are at war.” I told him, sucked in a deep breath, and spoke not to Metatron nor Dreamless, whose scarlet eyes trembled with a dreadful fear.

I spoke to my blood… I spoke to the Abyss.

“Come Forth, Spear of the Abyssal Night.”