Chapter 12: The Labyrinth of Deception and the Mirror of Truth
The name Nihilo hung in the air like a dying ember. The silhouette of the Devil didn't flinch; instead, the darkness around him seemed to ripple with a mocking sort of amusement. As the Vault of Whispers crumbled, the floor beneath Andrew and the unconscious soul of Arthur gave way, dropping them into the Fourth Circle: The Labyrinth of Deception.
They landed on a floor of polished obsidian that stretched infinitely in every direction. There were no walls, yet Andrew felt trapped. Every few feet, towering mirrors of smoked glass rose from the ground, reflecting not just the brothers, but versions of them that never existed.
"You think you are the hero of this story, Andrew?" Nihilo's voice echoed from every mirror at once. "You think you are the 'pure' brother who came to save the 'fallen' one?"
Andrew held Arthur's flickering soul close to his chest, the Angel's Ring providing the only light in the oppressive gloom. "I know who I am. I am his brother."
"Are you?" Nihilo stepped out of a mirror. He looked exactly like Andrew, but his eyes were voids of cold logic. "Why do you think the Angel's Ring accepted you so easily? Why do you think you survived the Pool of Purity when the Master said most men die on the third day?"
Andrew froze. The thought had crossed his mind in the quiet moments of his penance, but he had pushed it away.
"Your mother didn't just pray for a child, Andrew," the Devil-copy whispered, circling him. "She made a bargain with the Light long before Arthur made one with the Dark. You aren't a human who became an Angel. You are an Empyrean Construct—a celestial weapon hidden in a human womb to balance the scales when Arthur eventually fell. You were never his brother. You were his cage."
The Shattering of Identity
The words hit Andrew harder than any blow from Varkas's hammer. He looked down at Arthur's soul. If he wasn't truly human, was his love for Arthur just a programmed instinct? Was his grief for his mother just a celestial script?
The Angel's Ring began to vibrate violently. The gold light turned a jagged, unstable white. The Labyrinth responded to his doubt; the mirrors began to close in, the reflections showing Andrew as a hollow statue of light, cold and unfeeling.
"Look at him," Nihilo pointed at Arthur. "He is human. He felt envy, rage, and greed because he was alive. You? You feel only what the heavens permit. Who is the real monster, Andrew? The man who sinned, or the weapon that pretends to love him?"
Arthur's soul began to stir in Andrew's arms. His eyes opened—not the crimson eyes of the Shadow King, but the amber eyes of the blacksmith's son. He looked up at Andrew, his expression one of pure confusion.
"Andrew?" Arthur's voice was a faint whisper. "The mirrors... they're lying. I remember... I remember you crying when I cut my hand at the forge. The Light doesn't cry, Andrew. Only brothers do."
That small, fragile voice broke the Devil's spell. Andrew felt a surge of warmth that didn't come from the Ring or the heavens; it came from his own heart.
"Even if I was made by the stars," Andrew roared, "I chose to be his brother! And a choice is more powerful than a birthright!"
The Path Through the Glass
Andrew raised the Aurelian Brand, but instead of striking the Devil, he turned the blade toward his own reflection. He shattered the mirror that showed him as a celestial weapon.
CRACK.
The entire Labyrinth shuddered. As the glass fell, the "Deception" began to peel away. The obsidian floor turned into a bridge of glowing white marble. Andrew realized the Fourth Circle wasn't meant to be fought; it was meant to be rejected.
"Nihilo!" Andrew shouted, his wings expanding to their full, fiery glory. "You hide behind lies because you are 'The One Who Is Forgotten.' But I remember your name, and I remember my own!"
He grabbed Arthur's hand. Together, the spirit and the Seraph ran across the marble bridge. Behind them, the mirrors exploded into dust, and the Devil's silhouette let out a scream of frustration that shook the foundations of the Underworld.
They reached the end of the bridge, where a massive stone elevator awaited. This was the entrance to the Fifth Circle: The Hall of Judgement. But to ascend back to the world of the living, they would have to face the final auditor of the contract—the Grim Arbiter.
"One last test, Arthur," Andrew said, his breath coming in golden clouds.
Arthur looked at his own translucent hands. "I'm ready, Andrew. Whatever happens... thank you for coming for me."
The elevator began to rise, but the air was getting thinner. They were leaving the realm of the Devil and entering the neutral ground where souls are weighed.