Chapter 74 The Return
Morning came too quickly. Mammon was waiting in the portal chamber, dressed formally but looking somehow more vulnerable than Lilith had seen him. His ribs were clearly still bothering him despite the healing, but he stood straight and composed as she approached.
“Ready?” he asked, and Lilith wasn’t sure if he meant for the portal journey or for returning to everything waiting at the Vestibulum.
“No,” she admitted. “But I don’t think that changes anything.”
“No, it doesn’t.
” He moved closer, and for a moment, Lilith thought he might say something significant, might finally voice the feelings she could see clearly in his eyes. But he just pulled her into a careful hug, mindful of his injuries, and held on slightly longer than friendship strictly required.
“If you need anything,” he said quietly against her hair, “anything at all, you send for me. Distance doesn’t diminish value, and you’re worth crossing realms for.”
Lilith hugged him back, feeling the steady beat of his heart against her cheek, and wished things were simpler. Wished she could accept what he was offering without the prophecy and Azrael and Cain and the impossible future hanging over everything.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything.”
He released her slowly, stepping back with visible effort. “Take care of yourself. And Lilith?” He waited until she met his eyes. “Whatever you’re carrying, whatever cost you’re calculating alone, it’s too much. Don’t let it break you before you’re ready to share the weight.”
Then he activated the portal, the gateway opening to show the Vestibulum’s familiar dark stone on the other side. Sera went through first, and Lilith paused at the threshold, looking back at Mammon one final time. He smiled, sad and knowing, and Lilith stepped through before she could make things worse by saying something they’d both regret.
The portal closed behind her, and the temperature dropped immediately. The Vestibulum’s oppressive atmosphere crashed down like a physical force after days of Mammon’s carefully maintained warmth. Guards stood at attention in the arrival chamber, and servants hurried past on various errands, and everything felt wrong after the brief peace she’d found.
Azrael was waiting in the corridor outside, his golden eyes finding her immediately. “You’re back. Good. Father’s been asking for you.”
The warmth from Mammon’s farewell evaporated completely. “Is he alright?”
“He’s dying, so no.” Azrael’s bluntness was almost refreshing after days of careful diplomacy. “But he’s not dead yet, and he wants to hear about your visit before he gets worse.”
They walked through familiar corridors toward the Devil’s private chambers, and with every step, Lilith felt the weight she’d temporarily set aside settling back onto her shoulders. The Machala secret, the knowledge about the execution, the constant paranoia and fear, all of it waiting right where she’d left it.
She saw him before they reached the Devil’s chambers. Machala, standing near a window in conversation with another advisor, looking exactly as he always did. Professional, composed, perfectly loyal. When he noticed her looking, he inclined his head in polite greeting, and Lilith’s stomach turned.
“You seem better,” Azrael observed as they continued walking. “Mammon’s kingdom agreed with you.”
“It was peaceful,” Lilith said carefully. “Easier to breathe there.”
“Greed has that effect sometimes. Everything reduced to simple transactions, clear values, no emotional complexity.” Azrael’s tone suggested he didn’t entirely approve. “Though I imagine that simplicity becomes complicated in its own way eventually.”
They reached the Devil’s chambers, and the guards opened the doors without question. Inside, the Devil sat in his chair by the window, looking even frailer than when Lilith had left. The past few days had clearly cost him, energy draining away faster than anyone wanted to acknowledge.
“Lilith, welcome back.” His voice was weaker than she remembered. “Come, sit. Tell me about Mammon’s kingdom.”
She settled into the offered chair and described her visit, carefully editing out the more personal moments while highlighting what she’d learned about Greed’s economic systems and strategic thinking. The Devil listened with clear interest, asking occasional questions, and for a little while, it almost felt like a normal debriefing.
“And how is my son’s health?” the Devil asked eventually. “The reports say his ribs are healing, but reports often minimize injuries to avoid appearing weak.”
“He’s recovering well,” Lilith confirmed. “Still favors the injury, but getting stronger every day.”
“Good.” The Devil leaned back in his chair, exhaustion evident in every line of his body. “The next kingdom visit will be delayed slightly. I need all my sons here for the next few weeks while we… while we make certain preparations.”
The unspoken words hung heavy in the air. While we prepare for my death. While we finalize succession plans. While we try to shore up defenses before I’m gone and everything falls apart.
“I understand,” Lilith said quietly.
“You’ll continue training with whichever brothers are available, continue developing your abilities, continue learning what you need to know.”
The Devil’s eyes were sharp despite his weakness. “The prophecy doesn’t pause just because I’m dying. If anything, my decline makes your preparation more urgent.”
Azrael shifted beside her, clearly uncomfortable with the direct acknowledgment of their father’s mortality. “We should let you rest. Lilith needs to settle back in anyway.”
They left the chambers together, and Lilith found herself walking back through corridors that felt less safe than Mammon’s gleaming halls. Every shadow could hide a threat. Every servant could be watching. And Machala moved freely through it all, trusted and positioned perfectly to continue his work while everyone believed the spy was dead.
“Are you alright?” Azrael’s question pulled her back to the present. “You went somewhere dark just then.”
“Just tired from the journey.” The lie came automatically now. “I think I need to rest.”
“Understandable.” He walked her to her chambers, pausing at the door. “I’m glad Mammon’s kingdom helped, even temporarily. You looked lighter when you came through that portal than you have in weeks.”
“It was good to get away,” Lilith admitted. “To not feel like everything was constantly pressing down.”
“Well, you’re back now. And whatever weight you were carrying before, it’s still here waiting.” Azrael’s expression softened. “But so am I, and Cain, and the others. You don’t have to carry everything alone.”
If only he knew how impossible it was to share this particular burden. Lilith managed a smile. “Thank you.”
He left her at her door, and Lilith entered her chambers to find them exactly as she’d left them. Sera was already unpacking, humming quietly to herself, and the normalcy of it should have been comforting but instead felt suffocating.
She moved to the window and looked out over the Vestibulum’s twisted landscape. Somewhere out there, Machala was continuing his work. Feeding intelligence to Armageddon, planning whatever came next, secure in the knowledge that everyone believed the spy had been caught and executed.
And Lilith stood here knowing the truth, carrying it alone because no one would believe her, watching the real traitor operate freely while she slowly broke under the weight of everything she couldn’t say.
Mammon had told her not to let it break her. Had said the cost was too much to pay alone.
But what choice did she have when the alternative was being dismissed as paranoid and unstable, when speaking up would accomplish nothing except making her look more foolish?
She stood at the window until Sera called her for dinner, then turned away from the view and tried to pretend everything was fine.
The brief peace she’d found in Mammon’s kingdom was over.
Reality had crashed back down, heavier than before for having tasted what life could be like without it and she had no idea how much longer she could keep this up before something finally broke.