The distant outskirts of the Cannibal District, where another mob was devouring another that had lost in another scuffle among the flesh eaters. An ordinary day amongst the most humanoid of Sinners.
Cannibal Lords, the most assorted bastards and psychopaths, from the most "harmless" to the most horrifying in the history of all mankind... Business as usual for the eaters of their own flesh.
The neighborhood is no different, notable only for the fact that some of the Overlords here may have ties to Alastor, which is no longer a good thing, and are also actively trying to reach out for cooperation.
"And it was from here that one Overlady often started sending requests for... Rosalind? Rosie? Rose? Alastor might have mentioned a name like that somehow, along with others..."
The eastern districts, the "free" districts of today, where there is an active and constant struggle for every meter, a meter of destroyed and destroyed, necessary only so that the other does not have that meter.
A lot of mafia clans, various cults, gatherings and just groups of bandits that endlessly snoop somewhere in the alleys simply because it is more convenient to hide from the bigger fish. Reports on the activities of potential "Middle" or even "High" Lords, which in the future may either benefit or try to strike a blow to the peace of the Silence.
"It is here that one of the few 'flying' Overlords is often seen... More likely the Sinner, for from the information available, a snake-like Sinner with a pretty good cylinder and a bunch of living Humpty Dumpties doesn't have a single soul in his command."
...Formula A-10123 did not justify itself, the result did not reach the expected percentage of the result. Phasing through matter with given parameters still proved to be untenable. Return to formulas, calculations and Type B Weaves.....
...Scheme 31-A-1 also did not bring proper results, which in comparison with the scheme 32-B-37 shows that this methodology is completely failed in its essence. The correlation of the result and cost models shows that the scheme of the project "Fog" must be rebuilt, with a fundamentally different foundation....
...The dark room, lit only by a single candle, was now filled with the stench of poor quality tobacco, deliberately chosen by the Senator to induce himself into action. The Replicant's task is simple, the Replicant's task is right and true. A puff for stimulus, fixing the negative shell reaction, working out the stimulus and simulating the emotion spurring the soul. The work continued...
"I agree".
...Pentagram City. A star divided into territories. It's usually represented that way, but in reality, the Cursed City is a spider's web, full of tiny nodes, where each one is a cell of some group of Sinners. From a couple souls, to the wealthiest of gangs, all the way up to the Overlords themselves, who have gotten to...
"Wait, stop." William blinked, momentarily cutting off the other streams of consciousness, allowing his mind to focus on his body.
A slow sigh, another blink, and a sharpening of his senses. The stale air, the faint taste of chalk on his tongue... all of it helped remind him where he was. In a museum-like space, within the "expanded" Silence.
William nodded to Carmilla Carmine, whom he had invited for a "walk" today, still "collecting" his thoughts regarding their last conversation.
...This stroll had several purposes. To personally inspect the results of his work, to allow a powerful soul—roughly two to five times stronger than an average Sinner—to interact with the artificially expanded space under his direct supervision...
And most importantly, to secure a trusted ally in the Cursed City. The idea had lingered in the back of William's mind for a while, but... he simply hadn't found anyone suitable for the role. Not Zestial, not Alastor—none of them could be called "a sane and reliable confidant."
The first objective had been successfully completed. The emanated soul data of Carmilla, the souls of the Sinners residing in this small district, had been gathered, leaving only the contract itself, which...
"Do you agree?" William asked, blinking as he looked at Carmilla, forcing a small smile onto his white mask.
Carmilla said nothing, merely nodding, crossing her arms over her chest and straightening her posture even more. For some reason, the Overlord vehemently refused to walk like ordinary souls, preferring to keep constant pressure on her feet in a ballerina's stance.
William rubbed his shoulders, rolling his neck... Once again feeling out—and for some reason... growing irritated by his own protection? This "armor," this "mask"... It had been created in haste, later refined and improved... Meant to shield him from "Hell's influence." Yet now, it only aggravated him, sending prickling sensations across his being—not quite his body or soul, but something more like a habit.
Perhaps it was because William no longer wore this shell "at home," and now, even the Morningstar Manor stood protected without it. No, it was obvious—Lucifer had surely shielded his domain from his own creation's influence, and the wards guarding his manor surpassed William's armor...
"...Well then... I appreciate your trust, Carmilla." William gave a deep nod, watching as Carmilla's pupils dilated slightly, her expression otherwise unchanging. "I assure you... We'll find common ground for..." He smiled, letting his gaze sweep over her once more.
Strict, rigid, meek, and rational. Obsessed with family—an abnormality among Earth's "normal" people, but better this fixation than a thirst for cruelty or bloodshed... The important thing was that William's actions didn't harm those daughters of hers... At least, not yet—those daughters who were soon to be "born," for they...
William suppressed a smile as he continued his light dialog with Carmila.
"We want to be with Mother." - that was the demand-desire of those women, still young but already determined in their goals. Following the spirit and word of his Deal, William really didn't try to learn the real names, the True Names, of those women... But to look into their souls, to get to know them better....
No regret or remorse, complete certainty that all their 'loved ones' are in Hell, not Paradise...
"So why should I want to get on those flying clouds?" - Said a slimmer blonde woman, codename Odette. The one was a researcher and weapons designer that was in her mother's close circle, directly responsible for the weapons part of their...'business' as such things were now called.
"Carmilla's daughters requested that after death, they would go to Hell and then be immediately delivered to their mother... The silence about the true nature of the deal spoke volumes, especially about how the Carmine crime family's affairs were worsening as the government increased pressure, and without the 'old shark Carmine,' maintaining previous arrangements became..."
"...then, I would like to ask... Zephir." Carmilla hesitated momentarily, her eyes scanning William again as if adjusting to their new arrangement. "What are my duties? As your... friend." A slight smirk crept onto Carmilla's face, to which William simply nodded.
"Nothing beyond what we've already discussed. Information, assistance, and loyalty..." William tapped his cane rhythmically, rubbing his chin. "Except perhaps..." As William tilted his head toward the ceiling, he noticed Carmilla's shoulders twitch slightly - more reflex than conscious suppression. "...coordinating matters of mutual interest, maintaining regular communication between us to ensure these interests remain..." William alternated between tapping his chin and observing Carmilla's dark-and-light hairline.
"This seems... suspiciously lenient, if I may be honest." Carmilla spoke with measured hesitation, watching William as...
"Interesting... if I implement the X-93 configuration, could Hugin relay information at the same speed..."
"Right... the Senator sent new resettlement data again... just need to categorize the groups for disposal, those to leave untouched..."
William was practicing divided attention again. Not the best timing, as he was trying to secure an ally who should respect and fear him... But William decided it was better for Carmilla to grow accustomed to his behavior immediately... Plus, he'd read somewhere that appearing less "dangerous" might make him more approachable... Regardless, William shook his head slightly, his mask smiling.
"Oh, certainly! But everything we do from now on will be suspicious anyway, so we might as well begin immediately!" William shrugged, clearly not alleviating Carmilla's concerns judging by her unchanged skeptical expression, but...
William believed in Carmilla Carmine - she would become his Right Hand in Pentagram City!
An hour later, the Church of Silence.
------
Is there faith in Hell?
A ridiculous question for any human, but vitally important for someone who... "resides" in Hell. Sinners would immediately say yes, especially those who founded their own cults. Cults of personality masquerading as Jesus, some self-proclaimed prophet, an incarnation of Lucifer, or even God Himself... The variety is endless, and there's always some repulsive corner embodying every conceivable—and inconceivable—stereotype.
For Hell's "natural" inhabitants? Imps, hellhounds, deep-dwellers, goat demons, fish-like fiends, succubi, incubi, and even Goetia itself? The answer was even simpler—Satan himself enforces his own faith, while the rest either couldn't care less about "belief" or have something of their own.
William had never heard of a Satanic cult—not for lack of interest, but out of fear and simple self-preservation. Until he set a precedent by having a Sinner freely wander into another Ring—preferably not just in the company of Charlie, but ideally Lilith or Lucifer themselves—he wisely "postponed" Zestial's long-standing request. The Spider, in turn, shrewdly avoided reminding him, either aware of the risks or lost in his own delusions.
And blending in as a "local" was impossible. Ordinary residents—those without magic or any demonic abilities—might be fooled, but imps would eventually see through a Sinner's disguise. Hellhounds, especially the older ones familiar with their own dark arts, would know instantly. And succubi or incubi? They'd sniff out the deception immediately—no amount of "novelty" would save him. They'd either turn him in or kill him on the spot.
A Sinner simply cannot leave Circle of Pride. It's impossible.
"Master... Did you need something?" A soft, pleasant voice pulled William from his thoughts. Turning toward it, he was met with a familiar black blindfold over a human face—something unseen in Hell for miles. Unless you counted cannibals.
"Just... taking in the view, Maria." William nodded to his Replicant, crafted from Aphrodite's soul. He truly was in *his* church, where the Reverend Mother often preached God's word to Sinners' souls.
Strangely enough, today she wore... a kimono? A robe with a blouse? Whatever these dark, Japanese-style garments were, tied with a white sash resembling pristine flowers, while her snow-white hair was adorned with a dark headband and black blossoms... William didn't recognize the flowers, but interestingly, he'd seen similar ones on Aphrodite. Maria's weren't exact copies—more like... a half-remembered imitation.
Thigh-high stockings that merged into footwear, revealing a sliver of skin, paired with... a hybrid of wooden sandals and heels? Regardless, Maria was armed as usual, refusing to let go of her weapon even in William's presence.
"Then I shall receive your visit with the greatest honor, Master," Maria exhaled with a soft smile, bowing. William nodded, surprised that this time her chest didn't sway - meaning she'd actually secured the proper bindings or whatever she...
Replicants lacked reproductive organs, even the basic instincts, but simple physics still functioned in this godforsaken place. And also... William should note that his "Replicant" project - or whatever he'd called it - had yielded even greater results than he'd anticipated.
"Master, over the past month, our congregation has grown by half again - that's fifty percent more than last time! And I'm speaking of truly devout parishioners, Master!" Maria smiled like a delighted child, gesturing toward the church pews and pointing at a stained glass window that... William couldn't immediately recall.
"And this is our handiwork!" Maria beamed sincerely through her dark blindfold, gazing at... a strange amalgamation of shapes and colors... "The parishioners worked so hard on this glass, it would've been sacrilege not to display it here!"
"Fuck, I do remember Maria making such a request..." William nodded to his Replicant with some annoyance, observing the... thing that had consumed his energy and resources while he'd been sitting in his office, ostensibly "working"...
No, let the children have their fun, but... goddamn it all, he'd studied arcane knowledge and developed methods for manipulating the Ether of Creation not to produce fucking stained glass for just anyone!
"Oh, and I must show you my pride and joy!" Maria exhaled, nodding and beckoning William to follow, nearly skipping behind the pulpit where she produced a thick book... with exactly two filled pages. She held it proudly, gazing at William with admiration. "Three whole souls who came for genuine confession! They didn't share much, but how wonderful to see that even here, souls seek God's path!"
William... William actually nodded, distracted from his previous thoughts as he read... authentic sin confessions to his Replicant... Fuck, one even signed with his real name.
"Austin, Jean, and Khorn... A cannibal, a rapist, and a serial killer... Note the names and forward them to Charlie for study, if they actually came for confession and not to sleep with Maria..." William tapped his chin while flipping through pages filled more with crime admissions than spiritual confessions.
No, Maria... Maria proved his hypothesis that he'd... "created" new souls through radical purification of old ones. Angels would call this heresy - which it was, constituting direct violation of the most sacred - the soul itself... But William had conducted the experiment, and it demonstrated that...
"Maaasteer~" A soft, pleasant, velvety voice called out - perfectly even, perfectly balanced between high and low, creating exquisite harmony.
Everything inside William clenched. His eyes - both behind the mask and on its surface - flew wide open. The heart of his vessel pounded violently while his skin beneath the Hell-forged armor turned icy. A wave of goosebumps erupted as his spine straightened involuntarily, though his gaze remained fixed on the book...
The air... The scent hadn't changed, yet... as if the very atmosphere of the cozy chapel had shifted... William turned toward Maria...
"Master, what's wrong?" A playful smirk appeared on that perfect face. "Surely confessions from degenerates and psychopaths don't align with your 'Grand Designs'?" The smirk echoed in her voice as a single piercing eye stared through him in mocking amusement...
The monastic robe, white gloves prominently displaying a ring of pure gold, the hood barely concealing golden locks, and instead of traditional Catholic crosses - inverted ones, those used by Satan himself.
"Even brought a fake halo..." William muttered, watching as golden light - nearly indistinguishable from the real thing - coalesced into an "ordinary" halo of radiance.
"An angel should only appear in his finest form..." Lucifer drawled, covering his eye with its golden-yellow sclera, hands still folded in prayer. "So why don't we pray, my son?" he whispered reverently... while actually mumbling a genuine prayer to the Lord under his breath.
"You're not my father, and God doesn't hear you," William immediately retorted, his words having no effect on the still-praying Lucifer. "What are you doing here?" William tilted his head, eager to deal with... this most honorable guest. The kind you'd expect from some inspection committee...
"Oh, how dare a subject address his King like that?" Lucifer spoke in one breath, almost playfully, yet letting genuine threat seep into his voice. Empty threat, of course, but it sounded real enough to give pause...
"You're not my king, I didn't choose you, and you don't give a damn about Sinners," William fired back without blinking, causing Lucifer's smile to widen slightly.
"Oh... Has the kitten grown teeth?" Lucifer tilted his head further, reopening his left eye to look at William as if he'd dared interrupt Sunday prayer, all while maintaining that same smile. "How adorable!"
The tension showed no signs of easing - or rather, William refused to let himself relax. While rationally he understood Lucifer likely couldn't do anything to him now... his soul felt something entirely different.
It was like staring at... something. William rarely felt this from Lucifer. The first time had been an eternity ago, when his mind was rotting with that Song plan, then again when Lucifer came by for salt, and now...
"And what's the point of all this...?" William couldn't comprehend the reason for such thoughts, averting his gaze from Lucifer, whose smirk only widened...
Ah yes... A Seraphim unbound by morality or Duty.
"You're damn right, 'Snowflake'..." Lucifer shook his head, this time fully opening his eyes and lowering his hands, placing his palms on the empty Bible stand. "Don't worry about your little toy, she'll come to soon. I didn't even touch her. Honest." Lucifer nodded, still wearing that same smile as he regarded William.
"Trusting the Prince of Lies, who brought Deceit into Creation itself..." William smirked, tapping his fingers on the stand where the book Maria had retrieved lay... or was it Maria? Was it even a real book to begin with?
"The funniest part is I can't even tell. Lucifer can create 'natural' things, especially within his own creation. There's definitely some thought he's deliberately hiding from my mind... or he's playing games so convoluted I can't even focus..." William thought frantically as Lucifer silently surveyed the church, the corners of his lips faintly upturned.
"You know... cute little church." Lucifer nodded lazily, examining the stained glass depicting biblical scenes and saints. "Almost like the real thing. Just add some parishioners, a priest, and you could start exorcising demons right now." He chuckled quietly, leaning on the slightly elevated pulpit, having practically jumped onto it.
"I tried." William nodded, glancing around and trying to... locate Maria. Was she still in her cell? "Did Maria never leave her room, or did you send her there somehow?" William asked directly, unsurprisingly receiving no answer. Lucifer simply continued silently observing the stained glass before lowering his crimson eyes to the empty pews.
"Tell me this instead..." Lucifer exhaled, his shoes clacking as he stepped onto the pristine marble floor—seemingly contaminating it intentionally—before turning to William. "Why do you need this church here? Trying to fill heads with occult religion? Or perhaps..." Lucifer's smirk twisted into a grin of sharp teeth. "...spreading the Word of God?" He tilted his head, studying William like some curious little animal. "Or a cult? Propaganda? A sound idea to maintain... Order." Lucifer grimaced, the first genuine shift in expression during this encounter.
William didn't rush to answer, and Lucifer didn't press, allowing the Fallen Archangel to inhale and exhale... to ponder the question twice, dedicating exactly three streams of consciousness just to be sure he wouldn't get tangled up...
"If I'm already planning to 'filter' Sinners by their level of sanity... might as well run this experiment too. Maybe some of them genuinely want to believe in God again, to prove a Sinner can redeem themselves." William shrugged, exhaling as he realized he'd been holding his breath.
"Ah. An experiment." Lucifer nodded emphatically, seemingly relieved. "I almost thought you genuinely planned to do something so... stupid." He wrinkled his nose, staring straight at William. "This was tested long ago—this trash can't change!" Lucifer practically sang, tilting his chin up as he leaned back on the pulpit, grinning at William.
"Yet I built my own little 'Silence' paradise." William shrugged, smiling as Lucifer's façade cracked for the first time in ages, irritation flashing in his eyes. "Yes, it's not perfect, but it works." He nodded, watching with quiet pride as Lucifer waved a dismissive hand at him.
"You talk as if your little project has lasted over a century, when it's barely fifty years old—a blink of an eye." Lucifer remarked indifferently, his earlier enthusiasm gone as he slightly furrowed his brows. "Give it a hundred, maybe two hundred years, and it'll crumble like it should." He stated firmly, gazing down at William with quiet superiority—who didn't even bat an eye.
"Does that mean Charlie's dream will sink just the same?" William smirked, seeing Lucifer's shoulder twitch, his expression now openly irritated. "'Silence' is just as much a testing ground for your daughter's ideas as it is for mine." William tilted his head, watching as Lucifer's face smoothed back into neutrality a second later.
"Oh... Char-Char doesn't need your little... 'Silence' nonsense." Lucifer waved a hand, looking around the church as if it were manure—or worse. "Do you know how many of these there have been over the centuries? How many 'heavens' and 'hells' in this pit? You're not the first, nor the last, to try creating something like this..." He gestured vaguely at the church, which had somehow grown brighter.
"But didn't you like my work when you mentioned it to the Eldritches?" William asked a foolish question—one Lucifer had clearly expected, judging by his grateful nod.
"I was merely describing what I imagined." Lucifer shrugged, propping his face on a fist as he watched William. "This doesn't even have a tenth of what was in my head—not even a damn duck!" He exclaimed, genuine offense on his face. "No golden fountains, no oysters, no divine platypuses! And that's not even mentioning basic flowers and cubes!" Lucifer raised an index finger in a white glove, nodding importantly as he stared at William.
"...Then... why are you here, again?" William spoke slowly, watching Lucifer... who cared nothing for condemnation or scorn, but indifference... As if his entire pantomime had been worthless... That was what got to Lucifer. Or rather, he chose that moment to stop playing.
Lucifer straightened, beginning to stroll around the room. His steps were light, nearly soundless, as if he weren't even there. The golden halo had long vanished, leaving only the short figure in a nun's habit, examining the stained glass, the dark gray Gothic stone walls... The golden-yellow candlelight dimmed slightly as he passed, somehow without altering the scent...
William remained in place, watching Lucifer.
"Wanted to see what kind of filth my daughter's been digging through..." Lucifer drawled, turning his head slightly toward William, eyeing him sidelong while the rest of his face remained hidden under the nun's hood, draping nearly to his waist. "Walked the streets, saw the Sinners—what ugly freaks, I tell you..." The Devil nodded, exhaling before turning back to William. "...I'll admit, it's a cute little place... But the garden needs work. Not enough variety in the local fauna."
William... William actually considered the Fallen Seraph's practical remark. He hadn't even thought about that, hadn't bothered to delve into biology enough to properly cultivate the right plants or trees.
"Alright, but what did you want..." William looked up from the notebook where he'd jotted down the idea, glancing at the spot where Lucifer should have been standing...
"Master? Is something wrong?" Maria asked quietly, entering with a copy of an earthly Bible, placing it familiarly on the pulpit as she regarded the Fallen Archangel through her dark face veil.
William simply waved his Replicant off, sighing deeply as he tried to sense Lucifer nearby... and, predictably, failing. It was as if the Devil had never been there—just another Hell-induced hallucination, or something else William hadn't yet studied.
And all William had wanted was to visit the church to remind himself of standard procedures before his upcoming trip to Earth...
...
Hours later, evening, after a typical Lord of Silence day.
William was walking peacefully along the quiet roads of Silence, whose central neighborhoods were "dormitories," as the newly "settled" Sinners had come to call such a thing. Those so called the conventional custom of the occupants of these neighborhoods to finish their business at this time to occupy themselves with the amusements of the neighborhood. Looking at the stars, enjoying the wind, swimming in the rivers, wandering through quiet parks, or just breathing in the air. Simple and ordinary things for anyone, but not for someone who has gone to Hell.
The neighborhood of Silence is popular because it offers the opportunity to "be" on Earth again, to feel alive again, alleviating suffering... Even for those who live on the outskirts, even for those who are one step away from being evicted.
The silence of the evening, the light breeze that wrapped around his body and his protective shell... No birds or insects. It was hard for William to admit it, but Lucifer's remark was apropos, because even though it looked right, it felt....
Beautiful streets, lantern lights, overhanging beautiful buildings, green trees, from oaks, to firs, to whatever wood William could think of while he was creating. Grass, a couple of Sinners that only cautiously avoided him. Not the usual terror of the rest of the Cursed City, but rather a simple salute to the Silence.
William, on the other hand, noticed one of the Sinners laboring somewhere in the beds....
"Are you the gardener?" - William asked quietly, moving closer to the bowed figure dressed in rags or work clothes. The Sinner did not react to the approach of the Lord of the Neighborhood, which told him that he was probably from the center, or just had some peculiarity. There are so many Sinners, so many individual, personal stories.
The figure didn't answer, just rose to look at William... Allowing Silence to note that the Sinner was of a "rare species" of humanoid that was clearly not a cannibal, but still retained some human appearance.
Pale skin, black hair, dense beard, with barely noticeable gray hair that colored rather than age. The figure was in work clothes, wearing red-and-yellow gloves, holding a sickle in one hand and a bunch of greens in the other. Red eyes stared intently at William.
"Could you please... help me?" - William tilted his head, still not eliciting a response from the Sinner's figure. - "I'd like to ask you to... Repopulate, flower or whatever the jargon of gardens calls it, but, I'd like to have a personal garden of a wide variety of colors." - William spoke, running his finger through the air, creating a small image of his desire, which was a mishmash of color. - "The pay would be appropriate, benefits, and a guarantee of no eviction."
The humanoid figure in red and yellow gloves and rags simply nodded, looking at William with an almost indifferent look that still showed approval.
William nodded as well, watching as the figure went back to work, taking the paper with William's instructions on where and how to do what needed to be done, while William simply walked back to the Mansion, enjoying the evening air.
He was stalling for time, for in the next few days.....
He would be returning to Earth, to St. Abel's Church.
Hello, dear readers!
Thank you all for waiting for my return. I apologize for the long absence and the delay in releasing a new chapter.
Unfortunately, I had a serious epilepsy attack, which caused me to spend some time in a coma, go through intensive care, and be hooked up to a life support machine. All of this took almost two months.
I recently stopped taking epilepsy medication, which was causing side effects, including severe mental confusion. Now my condition has stabilized and I am slowly starting to get back to work on the chapters.
Thank you for your patience and support!