Azreal stirred from his slumber, his body moving gently as he turned to look at the woman sleeping beside him. Aria, her peaceful expression a stark contrast to the storm inside him, lay curled beneath the covers. He smiled softly but didn't linger. He got up, careful not to disturb her, and made his way to the bathroom. The cold marble floors felt cool beneath his feet as he washed up. Soon after, he dressed in his usual attire, the black fabric clinging to his tall frame.
With a quiet sigh, Azreal stepped out of the room, closing the door with a soft click. As he walked down the corridor, the maids greeted him with a respectful bow. "Good morning, Lord Azreal," they said in unison. He nodded back, acknowledging their greeting with a simple, "Good morning."
He continued through the hallways, his mind already on the meeting that awaited him in the royal room. When he entered, the heavy doors closed behind him, sealing him into the space. He walked towards the large chair at the center of the room and sat, closing his eyes for a brief moment.
Then, his voice echoed throughout the room. "Message to all Pillars."
His command wasn't loud, but it carried power. One by one, the voices of the Pillars resonated back in response.
Malphas' voice was the first to respond, a sharp tone cutting through the silence. "Why the telepathic meeting, Lord Azreal? We could all have gathered in the Flaming Hall."
Azreal's eyes narrowed, his voice steady. "There's no time. I need to see Hades."
Veymar chuckled, a playful but dangerous sound. "You mean that old geezer?"
Azreal's eyes flashed with a dangerous calm. "Yes, Hades."
Malphas corrected quickly, "Veymar, you should show more respect. He is not old."
Veymar grumbled, "Fine. He's middle-aged."
Xaltheon's voice joined in, cautious. "Lord Azreal, shouldn't you go with Hulk or someone stronger?"
Azreal shook his head slightly. "No need for that."
Malphas wasn't convinced. "You can't be too sure, Lord Azreal. You're not exactly on good terms with Hades. This could be like walking into enemy territory."
"I can handle it," Azreal responded, his tone unwavering.
He shifted the topic with a sharp change of subject. "Before we discuss that, I need a report on yesterday's incident. Asrah mentioned infernals attacked each gate."
Malphas spoke first. "Our gate was taken care of."
Veymar's voice dripped with smug satisfaction. "So was mine."
Xaltheon gave his report. "Done."
Selmora's voice had a tinge of frustration. "Mine are still breathing, but they're keeping the gate lively."
Veymar laughed, "Heh, that's so you, Selmora."
Drakos added dryly, "They were small fries. Nothing big to worry about."
Azreal nodded. "True. They were diversions."
Xaltheon continued, "Hulk informed us about what happened."
Malphas' tone turned serious. "Who would have thought that a large number of Hell Guards would be affected by Y'tharion's mark and try to cause a revolution in Hell?"
Xaltheon added, "At least now we know that Y'tharion's mark doesn't just work on infernals, but on us as well."
Selmora's voice softened with sympathy. "Poor Laisa. She got dragged into this whole revolution mess too."
Veymar smirked. "I guess she was marked as well."
Azreal's eyes narrowed, his expression growing more serious. "That's all good, but there's something bigger. I confirmed that Aria has the Gods' mark."
A silence fell. The Pillars' voices flickered with shock and disbelief.
Malphas was the first to break the silence. "Then that clears all our doubts."
Azreal's voice was low and steady. "No, it just raises more questions. Why was someone with the Gods' mark sent here? There's something disturbing I need to share with all of you."
The room grew quiet as Azreal's voice deepened with seriousness. "My mark resonated with Aria's Gods' mark."
Shock rippled through the group.
Malphas spoke first, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Can there be a connection? Are the two marks related?"
Xaltheon, ever analytical, added, "I don't think they could resonate with each other if they weren't related."
Azreal's gaze grew distant. "That's what I thought too, until my battle with Asrah."
Selmora raised an eyebrow. "Who's Asrah?"
Azreal's eyes met hers with an intense focus. "The combination of Sarah and Laisa."
Veymar raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Looks like things were heated there."
Azreal nodded, continuing. "My mark also resonated with Laisa's Y'tharion's mark. But this time, it took me to a different world."
The silence in the room was profound.
Dragos muttered under his breath. "Another world? Unbelievable."
Malphas seemed deep in thought. "So all the marks can resonate, which means they could all be tied together."
Xaltheon agreed, his voice steady. "Which means they could all be related."
Selmora's voice was filled with curiosity and uncertainty. "But the connection between Y'tharion's mark and Lord Azreal's mark is still a mystery. We know nothing about who Y'tharion really is."
Malphas turned to Xaltheon. "You sealed him alongside the Gods. Do you know anything about him?"
Xaltheon shook his head. "I wish I could help, but I have no information on Y'tharion or his mark."
Azreal sighed. "This brings us back to a dead end."
Malphas suggested, "What about Sarah? Can't she dig something up about him?"
Azreal's expression darkened. "I've already asked her, but all records of Y'tharion were deleted."
Dragos was blunt. "We're stuck with no leads."
Azreal stood, his determination settling into his words. "That's why I need to meet with Hades. If all goes well, we might find some answers."
Veymar nodded, but there was a shift in his tone. "Alright. But aren't we forgetting about the infernals evolving again?"
Azreal snapped his fingers, his attention refocused. "I almost forgot about that."
Malphas continued. "It's disturbing. They evolved into something else entirely."
Xaltheon's voice turned cold. "I don't even know if we can still call them infernals. They've evolved with their memories intact, and their bodies aren't covered in molten ash and flames."
Selmora's voice was grim. "True. But that's what made them worth keeping alive."
Azreal's eyes narrowed. "Sarah called them a failed experiment. That means there's still room for their evolution."
Dragos spoke with a grim tone. "If we assess their capabilities, their bodies are made to resist flames. It takes a lot of firepower to put them down."
Malphas added, "On top of that, their strength far exceeds that of regular Hell Guards. They're closer to Hell Commanders."
Azreal's expression hardened. "That's why my meeting with Hades is crucial. If it goes well, we may uncover new answers and solve these mysteries."
Selmora shifted uncomfortably. "Speaking of Hades, do you intend to bring up the hijacking of the gate system?"
Azreal shook his head. "That's an internal Hell matter. It doesn't need to be discussed there."
Selmora nodded. "Understood."
Azreal stood up, his voice commanding. "I believe all reports have been made. This meeting is concluded."
The silence was profound as the Pillars went silent, their minds heavy with the weight of the conversation.
---
Azreal opened his eyes, breaking the stillness. "Hulk."
With a sudden flash, Hulk appeared before him, ready for his orders.
"I'll be out," Azreal said, his voice low. "Watch over Aria for me."
Hulk nodded, his expression unreadable. "Yes, My Lord."
Azreal hesitated for a moment. "Have you heard about Laisa's condition?"
Hulk's tone was calm but steady. "She's still unconscious, but her health is stable. It's just a matter of her waking up."
Azreal nodded. "That's good. Take care of things while I'm gone."
Hulk bowed, his deep voice a whisper of respect. "Yes, My Lord."
With a snap of his fingers, a massive crimson gate appeared before Azreal, swirling with a violent wind. Azreal didn't hesitate, stepping towards it as he spoke to himself.
"The God of Death better give me a proper welcome."
He smiled, though the expression was laced with danger. "Hades, I believe only you hold the answers to the questions I seek."
As the gate closed behind him, Azreal disappeared into the winds, leaving the Pillars with more questions than answers.
---
Land of Ashes
In a desolate wasteland, where nothing remained but charred earth and relentless flames, a figure cloaked in red stood. His body was hidden beneath the folds of his robe, a black horn emblem etched into the fabric.
The man poured infernal ashes into a tube, staring at it with cold, calculating eyes. His lips parted into a chilling grin.
"Sin is evolution," he muttered.
And then, with a burst of flames, he vanished, leaving nothing behind but the echo of his laughter.