The throne room is silent. Azreal sits on his obsidian throne, one leg crossed over the other, fingers tapping rhythmically against the armrest. His face is calm—but the flicker in his crimson eyes tells another story.
A loud thud echoes as Hulk kneels, a towering man in full armor beside him. Both bow low.
"Lord Azreal," Hulk begins, "this is Tank, one of our commanders."
Azreal doesn't even blink. "Tank, did your men receive any girl at the gate today?"
Tank looks up, confused. "I… I was resting in the dormitory, my Lord. But I have a record of the gate guards."
He raises his hand, and a glowing list appears midair, names shining in gold.
"Allen was on gate duty," he adds.
Azreal's tone drops. "Go get me Allen. Now."
His voice is calm—but the room turns cold in an instant.
Hulk's eyes narrow. He's getting angry just asking about her. He's never been like this... He bows and vanishes in a burst of black smoke.
Azreal rises slowly. His cape flows behind him like a shadow. He turns, whispering, "Aria… where are you?"
---
The Confinement Layer
Chains rattle. Aria hangs from a silver cross, her arms stretched out. Blood trickles down her body, soaking her torn clothes. Her head droops forward, eyes barely open.
One guard steps forward, cracking a bloodstained whip. "What kind of body does she have? She hasn't screamed once."
Another sneers. "Let me try."
Before he can strike, Aria lifts her head. A weak, mocking smile curves her lips.
"Is that all you've got… you perverts?" she mutters. "When I get out of here… Azreal will deal with all of you."
The first guard slaps her, grabbing her chin. "How dare you say Lord Azreal's name, slut. I heard you tried seducing a Hell Guard at the First Gate. So why not entertain us too?"
"I don't think we should be doing this," a younger guard says hesitantly from behind. "She claimed she was Lord Azreal's friend. If he finds out, we're dead men. This is betrayal."
Another pushes him aside. "Coward. If you're scared, leave. But don't cry when I become a general."
The gate slams shut behind him.
The young guard hesitates… then turns and walks away. "They've gone too far. I have to tell Lord Azreal."
---
Outside the Chamber
Sarah stands with four guards, arms crossed.
"How's her punishment going?" she asks.
One guard bows. "She hasn't screamed yet, my Lady. Her endurance is inhuman."
Sarah narrows her eyes. Could it be? The God's Mark? But… it hasn't been confirmed.
"Check her entire body," she orders. "Tear off her clothes if you have to. Find that mark."
The guards bow again. "Yes, my Lady."
One asks, "What about you, Lady Sarah?"
Sarah turns, her eyes gleaming. "I'm going to visit an old friend. Someone who shares my will… and is very useful for what comes next."
She smirks, walking away. "Let the revolution begin."
---
Azreal's Throne Room
Tank returns with Allen, dragging him in chains. They both kneel before Azreal.
"Allen," Azreal says, voice flat, "did you receive any girl at the gate today?"
Allen says nothing.
Azreal's eyes narrow. "Don't make me repeat myself."
Still silence.
With a flash of movement, Azreal grabs Allen by the hair, lifting his face. "Are you hiding something from me?"
"I-I… I don't know what you're talking about!" Allen stammers. "We didn't receive anyone—"
Azreal grabs his shirt, lifting him off the ground. "Don't lie to me!"
Allen trembles. "Forgive me, my Lord… this is all for the revolution. I'm loyal to you—even if you kill me, I won't talk! This is for your sake!"
He lets out a mad laugh.
Azreal's eyes widen. "Revolution?"
Then he sees it—a mark glowing on Allen's hand. A dark, ominous sigil.
"…Y'tharion's Mark," Azreal whispers.
If I kill him, he'll just evolve. He's already cursed.
He lets go. A blaze of fire erupts from his palm, chaining Allen in fiery binds.
"Tank. Take him to the Third Gate. He needs to be sealed."
Tank nods and vanishes with Allen.
Azreal stands alone, his mind racing. "Y'tharion's Mark… on a Hell Guard? That means it's not just Infernals anymore. But how? Who marked him?"
His thoughts drift to Sarah. "Only she can answer this…"
He raises his hand. A glowing communication panel appears—but it's blank. No response.
"…She's transferred her consciousness into a real body."
Azreal clenches his fist. "Sarah… what are you planning?"
---
A Flaming Path
Sarah walks down a narrow lane, flames flickering along the walls. Her robes trail behind her, glowing faintly red.
She stops… and smiles.
"I believe Lord Azreal has started figuring things out," she says, turning slightly. "But it's too late."
She faces forward again.
Before her lies a massive stone door, carved with ancient flowers. Crimson flames swirl around it, lighting the walls like molten lava.
She steps forward. The heat doesn't faze her.
"The Chamber of Scarlet Flames," she whispers. "And the beginning of the end."
She places her hand on the door.
Boom.
It opens slowly… and Sarah disappears into the light.