Monarch of Darkness, Arsene

In the coming months, starships of the various realms began to gather above the clouds of Lurrian. Billions of Vagabonds, Lords, and Commoners around the Twelve Realms had started their migration. Filling the empty streets of Lurrian, the song of war had begun, and with it, the cold icy embrace of death hung over this city.

The Black estate had long since been abandoned, and through the nine months, I’d not heard a word, whether it was by Holocube or by messenger. There was only silence. The other Lords and Lady, however, weren’t as silent as Aether’s King and Queen, as they began actively trying to dissuade others from joining this war but did little to stop it. And such a cold decision made me smile.

I was sure Orthis had warned the other lords, but aside from a selected few, the rest of the people remained ignorant, wishing for nothing more than to be free of this Abyss. A surprising notion as many that arrived within this realm perished long before this city was constructed. There was a new generation that had risen. This realm was all they knew.

In the distance, far beyond the Shadow of Iliya, stood seven scarlet pillars of pure necrotic energy piercing through the clouds and then vanishing into the unknown.

The Fallen were preparing themselves, if not already prepared, with the cathedrals they’d long since constructed. It was now just a waiting game for them.

“Master?” Freya suddenly called. “Everyone’s in position according to the formation you showed us.”

“Angels’ blood shall fall. What do you think that means?” I asked, paying no mind to the Chosen of Nox directed to surround Iliya in specific points. “Has it not fallen already?” .

“Perhaps not the correct amount,” she answered, stepping silently towards me as though she were a phantom. “Perhaps you’ll never know, or perhaps…” she paused, and I turned, meeting with her scarlet eyes, carrying a glint of bloodlust.

I smiled.

“Perhaps you’ve not spilled enough yourself.”

“Quite right,” I agreed, chuckling at the thought. ” How is Aegis?”

“Wallowing in lament,” said Freya rolling her eyes. “He claims his powers are far from what they once were, but he still believes he could trap a paragon or two.”

“Not what it once was, yet he could trap one or two Paragons. Is he a fool of sorts? He should know I don’t care for humility. If he has the power, show it, do not hide it behind a veil of falsity.” Bitterness swelled within my mouth. ” Whatever. He’s a Prince of Noctem; as long as he pulls his weight, I won’t kill him.”

Freya nodded, and her lips tightened. “And Yu Jing?”

“Who knows? Hope and believe,” I mused, seeing the sting over Freya’s expression.

“Master…”

“It’s fine. But I think it’s time we leave, lest we be caught up in the spell. Plus, there is one last person I wish to see before anything else happens.”

“An old friend?”

“Hmmm, one my brother doesn’t wish me to see.”

“Head to the target zone. And ready for this legion to arrive.” I calmly said, snapping my eyes towards the horizon, and Shadow Stepped just outside Iliya, where an entire legion of Abyssal Fiends sat in wait.

Abyssal qi billowed, eating away at the skies and earth below. The winds howled and hissed with a bloodlust that reached my very bones. Their scarlet eyes all snapped to me, alongside those who held the curse of Zariel.

Ghoulish wails sprung from their mouth, and the skies lit up as the presence of two paragons appeared.

Apophis and Damien.

“Concubine,” Said Apophis, narrowing his draconic eyes that blazed with power towards me. ” What is it you seek?”

“Pay me no mind,” I conveyed, Shadow Stepping deep within Iliya into the depths of the palace once known as the home of House Lazarus. The once luxurious walls are now broken and torn, brittle to the touch, covered in webs and various insects clanking softly over the rubble.

“So you’ve come?” a rasped and unpleasant voice thundered, bellowing from deeper within. ” Come to me, Lucarious del Lazarus, III of the Order of Chaos.”

‘Two voices in one?’ I murmured beneath my breath, only for me to continue on my way.

Stepping over the broken ornaments older than me by a dozen or so chaos cycles, I didn’t dare to shadow step lest I fall into a trap but instead walked in the direction I’d heard the voice.

As far as I knew, The Palace of Lazarus was divided into several areas. With the added benefit of being bigger on the Inside than the outside. This entire palace was once said to be as large as a planet yet smaller than a house depending on who stepped foot within its web. But it seemed such a feature died alongside this once wondrous city.

There was only a hollow—

“Come to me,” the unpleasant voice said, prickling my skin with unease.

Pushing through shattered glass and broken pillars blockading a few corridors, I went downwards towards the dungeons.

Hours in, all forms of light dwindled into nothingness, leaving only an abyss of darkness devouring those foolish enough to enter.

“The Fallen Prince returns.”

“He returns.”

“Revived”

“He lives!”

“The spawn lives!”

Met with an onslaught of tormented apparitions aimlessly wandering through the dungeon, I ignored the hollow husk littered about like filth and noted the single pillar of dwindling light up ahead.

Near the rim where light met darkness, the rough voice sounded, “heed thy step, brother. The light is mine.” He said from up above, drawing my attention.

Hooked from every end imaginable by rusty chains tearing through skin and bone, my eyes widened at the two-headed abomination, with the skin of mud oozing over itself. Its hair, long reaching to the knees, disheveled yet still curly, carrying the scent of rot.

“Brother, you say.”

“I do,” said the nameless creature.

“And this light? Surely Zariel wouldn’t allow such a—”

“The Light… It was a gift from your children.” He whispered, lowering his two heads. One awake, one sleeping.

His words narrowed my eyes. “Wha—”

“They’re kind.” He said, his melted face attempting to arch itself into a deformed smile.

“Bullshit, they are of my blood!”

The nameless thing crackled with laughter.