Hell's Royal Palace – Crimson Hall
The heavy doors creaked open.
Azreal walked in, his black boots echoing on the polished obsidian floor. Lining the hall on both sides were guards, maids, and butlers, all dressed in Hell's formal crimson-black uniform. As soon as he stepped in, they all bowed deeply.
"Is the room ready?" Azreal asked, his tone cool but clear.
A maid near the front quickly answered, "Yes, My Lord."
"Good."
Suddenly, the sound of fast footsteps echoed behind the line of maids. An older woman in a maid's outfit rushed forward and, without hesitation, threw her arms around Azreal.
"Grandma?" Azreal blinked in surprise, a rare soft smile spreading on his face. "How are you?"
"You know me, I'm always great!" she replied, her voice full of warmth.
She pulled his face left and right, examining him like a concerned mother hen. "They're stressing you out again, aren't they? You look skinny. I bet you haven't had anything good to eat in weeks!"
Azreal laughed lightly. "I've missed your cooking. I'm counting on you to bring me back to life."
"Don't worry," she said, smirking. "I'm already preparing your favorite."
Turning sharply, she faced the other maids and clapped her hands. "You heard me! My grandson is back home after so long! I don't want to see lazy hands or half-done work. Let's move!"
The maids immediately scattered, cleaning and preparing with renewed energy.
Azreal raised his hand and snapped his fingers. In a shimmer of dark red light, a massive armored figure appeared beside him.
"Hulk," Azreal said calmly, "Go to the First Gate. Escort Aria here."
Hulk nodded. "Yes, My Lord," he said, vanishing into shadows.
Azreal looked back at his grandmother. "I'm going to freshen up. Make sure no one disturbs me. No matter what."
"Of course," she nodded. "Go rest."
---
Azreal's Chambers
Azreal stepped into his room. The moment he entered, he felt the warmth of home.
The bed was perfectly made. On it lay a neatly folded crimson robe. Everything was exactly the way he remembered.
"Home sweet home," he whispered, closing the door behind him.
He took off his coat and slipped into the robe before walking behind a curtain that led to a private hot spring. Steam filled the air as he slid into the warm water, a soft sigh escaping his lips.
As he leaned back and relaxed, a glowing mark slowly emerged on his chest. He stared at it silently.
"…Some things are better left buried," he muttered, and the mark faded away.
He looked up at the ceiling, thoughts swirling in his mind.
The Infernals… they're evolving. Orvath said it's due to Y'tharion's mark… But how did they get marked? And who did it?
Y'tharion's history is sealed, erased. And now Aria… could she really have the God's Mark? If so, why was she placed in the Soul Gate of all places? And who's been tampering with the Gate system?
He sighed deeply. "Being the Guardian of Hell is seriously not easy…"
Suddenly, a small blue panel popped up in front of him, flickering to life. A girl's virtual face appeared on the screen.
"Good day, Lord Azreal!" the cheery voice called.
Azreal blinked. "Sarah…? Oh crap, I totally forgot about you."
Sarah's face puffed up in annoyance. "How could you forget me?! I'm supposed to be your partner!"
"You don't really pop up much," Azreal replied, scratching his head.
"That's because I couldn't show myself!" she cried, tears forming in her virtual eyes. "You locked me away!"
"Wait, what? I did?"
"Three years ago!" she yelled. "You seriously forgot?!"
"I've been busy. A lot has happened," Azreal said.
Sarah's tone turned serious. "What happened?"
Azreal leaned forward. "The Infernals. They're evolving."
Her eyes widened. "How?"
"Orvath discovered Y'tharion's mark is the cause. But we don't know how they got it. Or even what that mark truly does."
Sarah began searching. "I'll scan Hell's documentation for anything on Y'tharion or his mark."
Panels filled with data flew past… until they stopped.
"…There's nothing. All records of Y'tharion and his mark have been erased."
Azreal's eyes narrowed. "Then it was wiped. Someone on the inside did it."
"Do you think it's the Pillars?"
"I can't just accuse them without proof."
"Then let's investigate. But we'll need a clue," Sarah replied.
Azreal sighed. "There's another problem. Aria."
"Who?"
"Now who's forgetting details?" he smirked.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"The girl who caused that massive chaos at the Soul Gate three years ago. That's Aria."
"Ohhh… so that's her," Sarah muttered. "Now I can finally make her stay in Hell a nightmare!"
Azreal raised a brow. "Why the grudge?"
"Because of her, I got locked up for three years! Now it's payback time!"
Azreal chuckled. "Your sense of humor is too much. Still can't believe you're a system."
"I'm serious!"
"Well, too bad," Azreal said, smirking. "She's going to be living here, in the royal palace."
"What?! Why?!"
"She said there was a mistake… that she was supposed to be in Heaven. When she arrived here, we discovered she's immune to Hellfire."
Sarah's expression turned serious. "Then… you think she really has the God's Mark?"
"It's not confirmed yet. But if it's true, we need answers. And fast. That's why she'll stay close to me. I need to keep an eye on her myself."
Sarah nodded. "I understand. If she truly has the God's Mark, then it's my duty to observe her too."
"Just don't overdo it," Azreal warned.
"Yes, My Lord."
Suddenly, a red alert flashed on the panel.
Sarah's eyes narrowed. "She's here."
Azreal rose from the spring, steam swirling around his form like a cloak.
"Then go. Welcome our guest," he said, stepping out. "And Sarah…"
"Yes?"
"Try to be nice."
"No promises," she grinned.
The panel vanished.
Azreal dried himself, his gaze hardening. So many pieces on the board… so many unknowns. But one thing was clear:
Everything was about to change.