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HELL - CITY OF DIS
The City of Dis, An endless sprawl of spires, cruciform towers, and infernal cathedrals stretched across the horizon, built from black iron, while millions of demons crowded its lower tiers in endless conflict, special kind of commerce, and bloodshed.
At its very heart rose the Tower of Dis.
A colossal palace-spire that pierced Hell's sky like a spear aimed at Heaven.
Its walls were carved with ancient scriptures. Souls were bound into its architecture faces frozen in silent agony, whispering curses as the structure pulsed with demonic authority.
Inside, at the highest sanctum…
A throne room.
A massive spell-circle floated before the throne, showing a vision of a ruined battlefield, Hell torn apart by divine violence, lightning, shadow, and annihilation.
The aftermath of Arthur's battle.
Beelzebub's corpse.
The First of the Fallen wounded and submitting.
Belial retreating.
Neron watched in silence.
He lounged upon a jagged throne, one clawed hand resting on the armrest, the other loosely curled as hellfire danced around his fingers.
Beside him stood a tall demoness draped in elegant crimson and shadow.
Lilith.
The First Mother.
Her eyes glowed with cunning as she observed the projection.
"That fellow…" she murmured, in amusement.
"…is serious trouble."
She tilted her head slightly.
"Fighting the Triumvirate head-on, without hesitation. Even we did not dare to be so reckless. And now…"
Her eyes narrowed with interest.
"…they lie in ruin. Beelzebub is dead. The other two are broken."
Neron clicked his tongue and cut her off, irritation flickering across his expression.
"I know,First Mother," he snapped coldly.
"Fortunately, I have eyes as well."
Lilith smiled knowingly.
"I am merely advising caution," she replied smoothly.
"His shadows do not resemble ordinary souls. They are not bound the way ours are. They do not behave like contracts… or remnants."
Neron's gaze hardened as he stared at the vision.
"I did not think he could defeat the First of the Fallen," he muttered darkly.
"It seems the old fool has grown rusty."
His fingers tightened.
"But no matter. We still hold the advantage."
A slow, predatory grin formed.
"Now I know he wants this throne as well, but we have the numbers. The territory. The infrastructure. The power and, something he want to retrieve for that fool.."
He turned his head slightly.
Behind him…
Upon a raised dais…
Rested the Crown of Horns.
A ancient artifact, crafted from demonic horns, dripping with raw authority. It radiated dominance. Dominion. The right to rule Hell.
The symbol of the true ruler.
Neron rose from his throne and stepped closer to it.
His presence caused the air to tremble.
"…I just don't understand this cursed artifact," he growled quietly.
"Every time I approach it… it rejects me."
He clenched his jaw.
"If I could wear it… truly claim it…"
His eyes burned.
"…I would gain power rivaling an archangel."
Lilith tilted her head thoughtfully.
"I do not recall Lucifer ever wearing it either," she mused softly.
"…Could it be…"
Neron turned sharply.
"Speak."
She smiled faintly.
"He enchanted it," she said calmly.
"For someone… worthy."
Neron's expression darkened.
"…Are you mocking me?"
Lilith turned away slightly, smirk widening.
"I would never," she replied lightly.
"I am merely suggesting that you allow me to examine it."
She glanced back at him, eyes glinting.
"You focus on crushing the lesser demon lords who dare to crawl toward your throne. I will discover why the crown resists you."
Neron's eyes narrowed, suspicion written in his gaze.
"Don't try anything foolish," he warned.
"The crown is mine."
Lilith met his stare without flinching.
"Do you not trust me?"
Neron scoffed darkly.
"I don't trust anyone," he said flatly.
"Sometimes… not even myself."
Her smile softened.
"That is good," she murmured.
She turned to leave, heels clicking faintly against the floor.
"I will uncover what is wrong with the crown," she said over her shoulder.
"Our agreement still stands."
Neron said nothing, only watched her walk away.
When she vanished beyond the towering doors, his expression tightened.
'…She is hiding something,' he muttered to himself.
'But I have no proof of it… yet.'
He exhaled slowly, hellfire igniting in his breath.
"…Tch. Enough politics."
A cruel grin split his face.
"I'll go slaughter a few rebellious demons…"
"… To clear my thoughts."
Darkness folded around him.
And Neron vanished, leaving the Tower of Dis bathed in whispering flames
****
EARTH - ARCTIC
A white abyss swallowed the horizon where the Arctic storms howled, winds tearing across endless fields of ice and snow.
The Batwing cut through the blizzard, beside it, Superman flew effortlessly, cape snapping in the gale, eyes glowing faintly as he scanned the frozen wasteland below.
Bruce Wayne sat rigid in the cockpit, jaw set, eyes narrowed behind the cowl.
"You can turn back," Superman said over the comm, voice calm but he was clearly concerned. "I've got this handled."
Batman didn't look at him. "Negative."
Superman frowned slightly. "Bruce.."
"I need to confirm it personally," Batman replied coolly. "Neutralizing a threat is only half the mission. Analysis matters. Identification matters. You don't assess unknown anomalies on instinct alone."
Superman huffed a quiet breath. "I'm not reckless. I can evaluate a situation and.."
"No," Batman cut in flatly.
There was a beat of silence. Snow battered against Superman's shoulders as he glanced sideways at the Batwing.
"…You're impossible sometimes," he muttered.
Batman didn't respond.
Then Superman's expression sharpened. His eyes narrowed, x-ray vision and enhanced senses peeling back layers of storm, distortion, and electromagnetic interference.
"There," he said. "We've arrived."
He descended first, boots touching down on solid ice with a soft crack. The storm roared around him, cape billowing.
Moments later, the Batwing angled downward and landed with mechanical grace. The cockpit opened. Batman stepped out, cape snapping violently in the wind, boots crunching against the frost-bitten ground.
Ahead of them, cutting through the blizzard, hovered a massive anomaly.
A portal.
It pulsed with unstable energy violet and blue, arcs of power crawling along its edges. The air around it warped, snow bending unnaturally toward its core as if pulled by invisible gravity.
Even in the storm, it was impossible to miss.
Batman stared at it, eyes narrowing. "Arthur wasn't joking around."
Superman stepped closer, cautious but curious. "So this is the source," he murmured. "A gate like he described."
He reached out, touching the glowing surface.
Instead of passing through, his hand met resistance.
His brow furrowed. "It's… solid. I expected it to behave like energy. Or a spatial tear."
Batman already had a device in his hand.
It was compact, angular, alien in design. The screen flickered with shifting runes, numbers, and energy signatures.
The device analyzed the portal.
Superman glanced at it. "What is that?"
"A detector," Batman replied, eyes fixed on the readings. "Designed by Arthur's shadows. It measures magical saturation, spatial distortion, and threat magnitude."
The device beeped once. Then again.
Batman continued, tone clinical. "They classify these phenomena into five tiers."
He tilted the screen slightly, reading aloud.
"Minor Threat Gate."
The wind howled.
"Major Threat Gate."
Lightning crackled faintly inside the portal's core.
"Catastrophe-Class Gate."
"Marshal-Class Gate."
Superman raised a brow. "Marshal?"
Batman's jaw tightened.
"Monarch-Class Gate."
Silence fell between them, broken only by the blizzard.
Superman folded his arms. "Alright. Where does this one fall?"
Batman stared at the final reading.
Then he shut the device off.
He looked at Superman directly.
"Catastrophe-Class."
Superman exhaled slowly. "Sounds bad."
"It is." Batman responded.
"…But," Superman added, thoughtful, "why is Marshal-Class ranked higher than Catastrophe? Shouldn't catastrophe be worse?"
Batman's gaze drifted back to the portal.
"That's Arthur's terminology," he said quietly. "Marshal is what he calls his highest-tier shadows. Entities capable of leveling cities, if not an entire planet. Collapsing armies. Rewriting battlefields."
His voice lowered.
"'Catastrophe,' in his words, is an understatement."
Superman watched the portal in silence, the weight of that settling in.
"…So this thing could unleash monsters," he muttered. "Or worse."
Batman nodded once. "The gate will open soon."
The energy began to surge, pulsing harder, warping the air with visible distortion. The ice beneath their feet vibrated faintly, hairline cracks spiderwebbing outward.
Batman turned slightly, cape snapping like a blade in the wind.
"Be ready."
Superman rolled his shoulders, eyes flaring red with power.
"Always am."
/-\
If you Like this story! Check out my other stories! Solo leveling in Westeros.
&
If you wish to read more or simply support me than check out my patreon at
"https://www.patreon.com/FrenzyAren"
You can Get Access to 3 More Chapters OR 7 More Chapters if you want