Lilith always considered Eve to be genuinely insane.
She almost never explained the reasons for her actions, making many of her orders seem like senseless delirium, their meaning completely escaping the Queen of Hell.
However, Eve's power was undeniable: it had always been incredible, and absorbing the soul of a "God" from another world had somehow elevated her to a completely different level, even if, in Lilith's opinion, it made her even more insane—though how much more could she get?..
Nevertheless, Lilith intended to follow Adam's plan, which required her to hide her true feelings about everything happening until the very end and silently fulfill all the "requests" of this psychotic fool.
Before the battle with Heaven, Eve ordered her "loyal Horseman of Plague" to broadcast their fight, and to Lilith's question, "To whom?", the answer was, "To everyone."
There was also a long speech about "fear, submission, truth," and some other nonsense, but Lilith had already tuned it out—this lunatic loved that kind of crap way too much...
Things were restless in the Pride Ring today.
First—what seemed to be the strangest Extermination in the history of Hell: upgraded Exorcist angels who for some reason spared almost every tenth sinner. Then, inexplicable holographic screens in the sky displaying... could it be Heaven?
And when the Heavenly Sphere—the physical embodiment of Paradise floating high in the sky—suddenly flared up and lost its protective dome, the situation completely transcended the comprehension of ordinary sinners.
Those who witnessed the event simply couldn't fully process what was happening right before their eyes.
All channels in Hell were broadcasting nothing but the news. Hundreds and thousands of cameras were livestreaming the holographic screens hanging over every city in every Ring, allowing even those sitting at home to witness the spectacle.
Viewers were lost in speculation, understanding neither the nature of the events nor their causes.
Hundreds of theories of varying degrees of absurdity were thrown around:
Aliens?
Military drills?
Some kind of test?
Or was this a Second War with Heaven? But why hadn't the legions of the Deadly Sins joined the fight? And where did these thousands of fallen angels come from?
What the hell was going on?
POV Charlie Morningstar
I always feel uneasy after Exterminations—apathy, a sense of helplessness, and sorrow wash over me.
Today wasn't much different—even though I got to personally witness the first reciprocal actions from my "big brother," and even though there were almost no senseless casualties today... That doesn't mean the lives of those killed today meant nothing to me!
Usually, singing helps me distract myself. It was during a song I had heard from my mom in my distant childhood that Vaggie found me, quietly walking up behind me and waiting for me to finish. That was sweet of her.
"How are you doing?" the girl asked when the silence began to stretch. "Are you alright?"
"Don't worry," I smiled brightly at her, trying to project a confidence I didn't actually feel. "I'm fine, I just don't like all this... brutality. Well, you know me..."
And Vaggie did know, even with my in-ar-tic-u-late-ness... That's what Adam calls it; I just admit that when I'm nervous, it's hard for me to express my thoughts in words, whereas singing makes it much easier.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something strange hanging in the sky over Pentagram City.
Walking up to the window, I froze—a massive, translucent holographic projection hung over the city! And what it was showing made my heart beat at an incredible speed, my breath catching in my throat from shock and... fear.
Heaven was burning.
The cloud-floors of Paradise were torn to shreds; the golden spires of majestic ancient buildings collapsed like houses of cards under the blows of giant writhing tentacles; the air trembled from the flashes of explosions and beams of Darkness and Light, and the streets were flooded with golden and black blood.
The Exorcist angels in their black-and-white armor, and others in golden plate, were dying under the onslaught of many thousands of Darkness-corrupted monsters.
A violent shudder wracked my body; I pressed my palms against the glass, unable to tear my eyes away from the nightmare unfolding on live television.
"Oh god..." I whispered, feeling tears rolling down my cheeks. So much death... "That's... That's Heaven, Vaggie! They attacked Heaven!"
Vaggie was seeing all this hell herself, her eyes widening in horror, but upon hearing my voice, her face turned to stone—she was trying to hide her emotions, wanting to calm me with her composure, to support me, even though she needed support herself. I could feel her fingers trembling slightly as Vaggie wrapped her arms around my shoulders, pulling me close.
In the center of this slaughter stood a familiar figure.
A tall, golden-winged angel who shone so brightly it was uncomfortable to look at him even through the projection. Adam. He stood motionless, clutching a visibly growing sphere of Light in his hands that pulsed with such power it distorted the space around him.
Black beams of Darkness flew at the Archangel, hordes of monsters tried to break through to him, but for some reason, he wasn't defending himself, wasn't attacking back, and wasn't even dodging the attacks.
Others were fighting in his stead—those same angels, among whom were Exorcists, those unknown angels in golden armor, and...
I cried out, pressing my hands to my mouth. Dad! My father, Lucifer, was fighting shoulder to shoulder with Archangel Michael against an unimaginably massive shadow beast!
I recognized Michael immediately—in a drawer in Dad's office, covered by some cloth, was a photograph of all the Seraphim, and he looked so happy in it... I couldn't even believe it...
"Dad, Adam... What's happening?" I was still shaking with fear. The fear of losing them all. The fear that the evil Adam had warned about would destroy the realm of Light. "Vaggie, we have to help them! We have to do something!"
But Vaggie just pulled me tighter against her, then whispered:
"We can't do anything, Charlie." The girl's voice bled with pain, fear, and a strange certainty. "Everything will be alright, sweetie," Vaggie continued, gathering her strength. "I'm sure Adam knows what he's doing, and your father is strong enough not to die... They'll make it, Charlie. We have to believe in them!"
Despite her words, even through tear-filled eyes, I saw what she was so desperately trying to hide—unbearable pain. Vaggie's gaze was glued to the screen, to her dying Exorcist sisters, to Lute, who seemed to be parrying attacks on her last legs to protect Adam...
A conversation I accidentally overheard in the hotel corridor just a few days ago resurfaced in my memory:
"Take me with you!" Vaggie's voice had broken into a desperate scream then; she stood before the Archangel, clenching her fists until her knuckles turned white. "This is my war too! That's my home, my sisters! I can't just sit here while you fight and die!"
Adam, unusually serious, looked down at her without a single hint of his usual arrogant smirk.
"No. Your job is to stay here," he cut her off in a tone that brokered no arguments. "Charlie needs you, this hotel needs you!"
"Fuck your orders!" Vaggie punched him in the chest, but Adam didn't even flinch. "I am still an Exorcist angel! My place is on the battlefield!"
Adam gently caught her wrist.
"Your place is where you'll be useful, Vaggie," the Archangel said quietly, a flash of exhaustion in his eyes. "If Eve wins, if Heaven falls... Charlie is the only thing this universe will have left." He chuckled at something. "She's the main character, and you guys are our Plan B. Protect her at all costs. Do you understand me, soldier?"
Closing my eyes, I hugged Vaggie back. She was tearing herself apart inside wanting to be there, wanting to stand shoulder to shoulder with her comrades, defending her home and her commander. But she stayed here, obeying Adam's order.
I can't even imagine what Vaggie must be feeling right now...
"Vaggie..." I sobbed, burying my face in her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, this is so hard for you too, and on top of that, me..."
"Shh," my angel stroked my hair, her tense gaze never leaving the burning Heaven. "We have to believe in them, Charlie. That's all we can do..."
Pride Ring, Stolas's Mansion.
Twilight reigned in the massive, luxuriously furnished living room. The only source of light was the huge television, which was currently broadcasting an absolute nightmare.
Octavia sat on the edge of the velvet sofa, her hands gripping her knees. Her usually impassive, slightly melancholic face was now twisted into a grimace of genuine horror.
Next to her, clutching a half-empty can of energy drink, sat Loona. The hellhound, whose entire demeanor usually radiated contempt for the world around her, was now leaning forward, practically glued to the screen, the can in her hand crunching quietly whenever another attack flew toward the golden-winged angel.
On the screen, a massive Cain composed of Darkness was tossing the true rulers of Hell aside like ragdolls, all against the backdrop of a crumbling golden city.
"Fuck..." Loona exhaled hoarsely as one of the strange demons on the screen literally tore an angel in golden armor to pieces. "This is just fucked up... Is this really happening?!"
"I... I don't understand," Octavia answered with a trembling voice. Her eyes tracked the shining figure in the center of all this chaos without blinking. "These demons... That's father's older brother, who disappeared thousands of years ago, and that's his deceased aunt..." she listed the demons attacking Adam in horror. "Why isn't he doing anything?"
"He's casting something," the hound stated grimly, pointing a claw at the orb of blinding light in the First Man's hands. "Some crazy shit. Look at how those freaks are trying to get to him! They're obviously scared of whatever he's doing."
Octavia swallowed the lump forming in her throat.
Adam was one of the few beings for whom she felt genuine respect and even... No, never mind. He was weird, sometimes kind, sometimes rude, often unbearable, but he was always... one of their own. He didn't treat her like a princess of the Goetia family; he demanded nothing, didn't force her into any boxes, and allowed Octavia to be whoever she wanted to be.
And now, seeing Adam standing there, surrounded by an entire army of unknown monsters, forced to rely on the protection of others, unable to defend himself or even dodge the incoming blows... It was terrifying.
"Please..." the Goetia princess whispered quietly, clasping her hands tightly together. "Please, let him be okay!"
Loona said nothing, only crushing the can completely with a loud crunch and tossing it into the corner of the room. The hound scratched her ear nervously, her tail twitching. Loona would never admit it out loud, but she had long since stopped being indifferent to that arrogant winged asshole.
"Come on," Loona grumbled through clenched fists. "Show 'em who's boss! And don't you dare fucking die out there! Please..."
The Human World. Earth. St. Peter's Square, Vatican.
The illusory screens, prepared in advance by Lilith's magic, hadn't only unfurled over Hell. Unbelievably massive projections of Heaven hung over every major city in the human world: over New York, Tokyo, Moscow, London...
Billions of people, craning their necks, stared at what their eyes refused to believe. At first, many assumed it was a massive promotional stunt or a prank, but the realism of the image, the sheer scale, and the unnatural aura literally oozing from the screens quickly dispelled all doubts.
For the first time, humans were seeing angels, humans were seeing demons, and they were seeing the abode of the Lord God being swallowed by Darkness for the first time...
Hundreds of thousands of believers had gathered in St. Peter's Square at the Vatican, staring at the sky. The crowd buzzed and wept; many dropped to their knees, praying hysterically in different languages, clutching crosses and rosaries to their chests. Panic swept over all of humanity. If Paradise fell to the forces of the Devil, what would become of them?
On the famous balcony of the basilica stood Francis.
Cardinals fussed around him, and the Inquisition's security detail tried to usher him inside, but the old man adamantly pushed them away with trembling hands.
His old eyes were glued to the hologram in the heavens.
After his conversation with the First Man, he had learned many new things, but even so, seeing Archangel Michael slaying demons, seeing the angelic host clashing with the Devil's servants, was deeply... terrifying for him.
With all the knowledge of the church, with all the faith nurtured in every servant of God, Francis simply couldn't help but feel fear, especially whenever another angel fell to the snow-white ground, never to move again.
This fear faded into the background when the Pope made Him out—the First Man, the Forefather Archangel Adam, who right now, like a beacon in the darkness, seemed to be holding back absolute evil with his radiance.
Finally, the Pope stepped up to the microphone, his hands gripping the stand to steady their trembling.
"My children!" the elderly, amplified voice echoed across the square. "Do not give in to despair! The Lord God will not leave His children to be torn apart by demons! Look to the heavens! Look upon our forefather Adam, who has redeemed his sin and now shines like the Sun! Look and pray! For our father will protect us!"
He spoke loudly, trying to pour every ounce of conviction he possessed into his words. Francis called for prayer, for unity, speaking of the invincibility of Light and the divine plan, thereby altering the traditional foundations of the church and shifting the focus from a God absent from the battlefield to the Archangel who was present and burning brightly with righteous light.
But inside... inside, the old man was being consumed by a cloying terror.
On the screen, he saw the golden ranks of Heaven's defenders thinning; he saw hellish beasts whose ugliness defied description, and he understood—felt with his entire being—that the forces of Light might actually lose...
"Almighty God..." he prayed internally, even as his lips spoke words of comfort to his flock. "Creator of all things... Do not forsake them! Grant strength to the First Man. Shield him with Your hand. For if his light goes out, our world will be swallowed by an eternal, hopeless night..."