Chapter 103 Chapter 103

Chapter 103 Chapter 103

I nodded. “They chained him.” Baltazaar didn’t curse or break anything. He exhaled through his teeth, a hiss of fury disguised as breath. “Where? ”
“The Abyss. Deepest level.” His gaze flicked to me. “And you’re going after him.”
“I am.” My voice came out softer than I meant it to. “I won’t leave him there.” He nodded, the motion almost ceremonial. “Then we prepare.”

I expected an argument. Instead I get strategy maps, troop placements, and wards that can hide the legion’s movement from the Dominion’s spies. Baltazaar was born for war; he moves through planning like breathing. But every line he drew, every route he marked, I could feel the old fire building inside me. It’s the same fire that burned when I first allowed the blood of hell to consume me. Anarchy.

He looked up after a while, studying me. “You’re not thinking of a rescue, are you? ”
“No,” I admit. “I’m thinking of an ending.” The courts still whispered about the last time I walked these halls with purpose. They fell silent as I passed, bowing but not meeting my eyes. The flames in the sconces bent away from me, sensing what I was becoming again. I summoned. Azya and Daya, they appeared in twin spirals of smoke and light, their wings folding back like blades. They were the only Fallen Angels allowed in hell, the only two, the demons could never touch unless they wanted to lose their lives. “You heard,” I said.

Daya nodded. Azya’s expression was sharper, grief forged into steel. “The Order took him? ”
“No, God took him,” I corrected. “And I intend to take him back.” Azya glanced toward the veil above, where faint traces of grace shimmered like frost. “You know what that means, Gem.”
“I do.” Daya stepped forwar “Then let us stand with you.” I smiled, briefly and honestly. “You already are.”
Baltazaar met me again hours later, armor gleaming with fresh sigils, blade on his back. “The princes won’t like this.”
“Then they can burn with their dominions.” He grinned, a flash of teeth. “There she is.”

Together we marched through the central gates. The legions parted . The air thick with heat; the ground trembled under the weight of my rising power. I could feel the crown on my head pulse, feeding off my rage until it glowed white-hot. He’s still alive. The thought drives me. I can feel his grace somewhere beyond the layers of creation faint, chained, calling.

When the first of the princes blocked my path, I barely slowed. He’s tall, robed in gold and ash, voice slick with false courtesy. “Your Majesty, perhaps we should discuss this impulse before…” My flame hit him before the sentence ended. He crumbles into sparks. The others retreated. Baltazaar didn’t flinch. “Message received.”

By the time we reached the lower gates, the whole realm knew. The air buzzed with anticipation; the rivers glowed brighter, as if Hell itself wanted to see what happened next. I stopped at the threshold and turned to Balatzaar. “Hold the legions. No one follows unless I fall.” “You plan to go alone? ”

“No,” I said, summoning the fire and light, letting it merge slowly around me until it shaped me “I plan to go as what I truly am.” His eyes widen slightly. “Anarchy.”
I nodded. “Let the world remember that name.” I let it happen; my wigs flared with fire, my body expanded, and my eyes shone. I rose through the fire and into the darkness above. The boundary between the Dominion and the mortal world was thin, above the lake where it all began. The stars were hidden behind heavy clouds, the air charged and trembling. When my feet touch the ground, the grass scorches beneath me.

I could feel him, Azrael, deep below, in that pit of lightless silence. I could also feel the Order watching, threads of cold radiance scanning the world for any sign of rebellion. I kneeled at the water’s edge, pressing my hand against the surface, and letting the fire sink. It burned through reflection, through stone, through the layers of creation until it touched the place where they’ve hidden him. A crack split the air. The lake boiled. The sky shuddered. Somewhere deep beneath, the first of the chains begins to melt. And for the first time since they took him, I feel him breathe.

Far above, the heavens ignite in alarm. Far below, Hell howled in answer. Between them, I stood in the eye of it all, crown blazing, fire rising, ready to tear the world apart for love. Let them call it rebellion.  I call it truth.

Azrael

The Abyss was silent except for the sound of my own pulse. No sky, no wind, only weightless dark pressing against my wings. I could barely move. The chains hummed every time I breathed, feeding on what they think is guilt. They don’t know it’s memory keeping me alive. I count time in heartbeats because there are no days here. God stripped me of his song, so even eternity had lost its rhythm. Sometimes I imagined her voice cutting through the dark; sometimes it was real. I never know anymore.
Then the air shifted. A tremor slid through the floor of light beneath me. Not Heaven, not the Order. Her.

I opened my eyes to black fire crawling through the cracks of this prison, with gold threads weaving between. She’s reaching for me. “Gem…” The name scrapes my throat like broken glass. The chains tighten, warning me to silence, but I laugh. “Too late. She’s coming.” When the first chain melted, the Abyss screamed.
The light tried to rebuild itself, coiling around me, but her power seared through the pattern, rewriting the code of the place. I feel her heartbeat inside mine, steady and furious. The Dominion above must be burning; the echoes reach even here.

I tugged once, twice. The links shattered. Pain flooded every nerve. My wings unfurled at last, half-black, half-ash. I stumble forward into a light that isn’t Heaven’s, isn’t Hell’s, but is hers. Baltazaar’s voice boomed faintly through the rift she’s tearing. Orders, commands, shields raised. He’s buying her time. Of course he is.
I pushed through the last veil and collapsed into air that smells of rain and smoke. She was standing there in all her glory, crown aflame, eyes burning the same green as the chains I just broke, Anarchy. The sight of her nearly made me drop to my knees.

“Azrael,” she whispered.
“Gem.” My voice shook. “You shouldn’t be here, love.”
She smiled, sharp and tired. “Neither should you.” I took a step, but the fire between us pulsed, a warning. The energy around her was unstable, bending the fabric of reality. “You’re merging again,” I said. “The fire’s changing you.”

“It’s not changing me.” Her gaze pins mine. “It’s becoming me.” I reached through the heat anyway, my hand finding hers. The contact sent a shockwave through the clearing; the lake nearby rose in steam. The bond between us flared, and for a breath the worlds aligned, fire and grace humming in perfect balance.
She winced. “They’ll see this.”