The Choir of Blades stood like a wall behind him—seven titans in silver armor, etheral and still.
Ramiel stood alone at the edge of the scorched plain, his coat whipping in the sulfur wind, hair burning faint with residual lightning. His boots crushed cinder as he stepped forward.
His hand twitched.
He'd felt it.
She was gone.
The pain didn't show in his face—only in the sudden way the air bent around him.
Before him, the Gates of Hell pulsed like a living scar across the world—black stone taller than mountains, carved with every sin ever committed.
He raised his hand.
The Choir stepped in formation.
But before the first sword moved—light ruptured the sky.
From flame and fracture came ten figures. Towering. Awful. Eternal.
The Cadre of Ten.
Lucifer hovered just ahead, robes of molten black trailing like wings. Beside him: Asmodeus, arms crossed, radiating decay. Lilith, eyes like eclipse fire. And the rest—each a throne of sin made flesh.
Lucifer's voice rang out. Calm. Immovable.
"Ramiel."
Ramiel didn't flinch.
"Move."
Lucifer's gaze softened—just enough to betray that he respected what was coming.
"You know the pact," he said. "Heaven swore its Choir would never step foot in Hell again. Not while the Old Flame still watches."
Behind Ramiel, the Choir of Blades stood like statues, unmoving. Bound by oath.
He glanced back. Once.
Then stepped forward alone.
"I'm enough" he said "To wreck carnage on your shit kingdom if you don't provide Zariel"
Lucifer didn't stop him.
He only said, "Then let Hell remember your name."
Ramiel crossed the threshold.
The Choir remained behind—silent guardians at a border the universe dared not erase.
The Gates opened.
And Ramiel stepped into the fire alone.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The morgue was cold.
Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as two medics rolled a covered stretcher through the hallway. They didn't speak. One of them paused just long enough to glance at the file clipped to the body.
Name: Carmilla Ryne.
Age: 22
Hunter Rank: S.
Cause of Death: Internal rupture during mission – classified.
"Poor girl," one muttered. "Only one who made it out of the Hive."
"Didn't really make it," the other said, then unlocked the cold chamber.
They slid the body in. Closed the steel door. Moved on.
Silence returned.
Until... the light in the chamber flickered once.
Then again.
Inside the steel drawer, the corpse shuddered. Muscles flexed beneath pale skin. Her fingers twitched. Then clenched.
Her eyes snapped open.
They were not Carmilla's eyes.
They were older.
She stood in the shadows of the autopsy room, barefoot, wrapped in a morgue sheet. Her reflection stared back from the stainless steel.
Her hands trembled as her memories struggled to come back. It was fruitless, a fog was covering it.
She clenched her jaw.
"Carmilla," she whispered.
No... that wasn't quite right.
"...Varyselle."
The name came like a forgotten flame. She said it again. A little stronger.
A single red rune flickered for a heartbeat on her wrist... then vanished.
Elsewhere in the city, a tracking screen blinked.
Subject: Carmilla Ryne – Vital Spike Detected.
Status: Deceased – Override Triggered.
Designation: S-RANK HUNTER (RECALLED)