Chapter 175 The Weight of the Crown
The cavern floor didn't just shake; it groaned as Abyssara’s human skin shredded like wet paper. From the ruin of his pale flesh, his spine lengthened and cracked, obsidian scales knifing outward to reclaim his monstrous form. He brought a massive, clawed talon down onto the scorched earth, sending a shockwave through the pit that made the very foundations of Hell ripple.
"Let us end this, Selena," he bellowed, his voice a landslide of grinding stone that echoed off the jagged walls. "Once and for all!"
But Abyssara was blind to the trap he had stepped into. He wasn't merely facing the girl he had hunted through the centuries; he was staring into the eyes of the Hemilune blood a legacy Lucifer had meticulously sharpened into a lethal weapon.
Selena’s body arched, a blinding, solar radiance bleeding through the gaps in her armor and turning the soot to gold. She shifted, her form expanding until she became a dragon of shimmering jet and liquid light. She threw her head back and let out a roar that didn't just echo; it commanded the air to still.
Abyssara flinched, a flicker of raw, unadulterated fear piercing his pride. In all the ancient scrolls of the underworld, the Golden Dragon was a myth a sovereign power whispered of but never seen. He was staring at the apex of his own bloodline, yet he forced a jagged smirk. Power is nothing, he told himself, without the ruthlessness to use it.
Abyssara unhinged his jaw, vomiting a torrent of thick, orange flame. Selena didn't move. She met the heat with a blast of her own a pillar of brilliant blue fire that sliced through his attack like a razor through silk, incinerating his breath before it could even reach her.
"You are weak," Abyssara taunted, though his voice shook like a leaf in a storm. "I am the First. You are a child playing with a god's embers. I wonder how the Morningstar will howl when I present him with your charred remains."
"I think you'll find I'm rather protective of my own, Abyssara."
The voice didn't come from Selena. It came from the shadows themselves, a low, lethal vibration that seemed to originate from the stone floor beneath his claws. Abyssara spun, his massive head swinging frantically as he scanned the sulfurous haze. He hadn't expected the King to return from the surface so soon.
"You shouldn't have come back to my kingdom," the voice echoed again, haunting and ubiquitous. Abyssara’s scales began to prickle. He knew this game. When Lucifer cloaked himself in invisibility, it wasn't for stealth it was a terrifying display of pure, concentrated rage.
"You have the gall to lay a hand on my woman," Lucifer’s voice boomed, and this time, the entire realm of Hell trembled in submission.
The fires in the deepest pits went silent. "You must be eager to find out what lies beyond a second death."
Space itself seemed to tear open as Lucifer manifested. He didn't appear as a man, but in his full, terrifying devilry. His body was a silhouette of dancing, white-hot flames, his eyes twin pits of solar fire. Two massive horns curved toward the ceiling, growing larger as his presence expanded to fill the cavern.
Abyssara’s composure shattered. He shrank back into his human form, his knees knocking against the soot-covered floor despite his attempt to stand tall. "I am not the same creature you once knew!" he shrieked, his voice cracking like dry wood. "I serve a new master now one stronger than you!"
Lucifer’s laugh was a hollow, terrifying sound. "Because of the celestial blood in your veins? Have you forgotten where I was born? My brother may have stitched your soul back together, but I am the one who will unmake it."
Lucifer stepped forward, his boots melting the obsidian with every stride. "I won't kill you this time, Abyssara. Death is a mercy I’ve run out of."
A frantic terror seized Abyssara. He turned to bolt, but the air turned to lead. An invisible force slammed into his chest, forcing him onto his knees. Lucifer reached out, his hand hovering over Abyssara’s heart. A low, violent hum started in the air as Lucifer began to pull draining the stolen celestial light directly out of the dragon's marrow.
"You don't deserve this gift," Lucifer whispered as Abyssara slumped, his skin turning a sickly gray as his power flickered out. "I will chain you in the same dark my father chose for you. And this time, the locks will never break."
In the Dream Realm, the air didn't just sit; it stagnated, thick with the sharp tang of ozone and the cloying, sweet rot of dead flowers.
Michael didn't just occupy the Throne of Dreams; he draped himself across it, his limbs heavy with a bored, casual arrogance that seemed to insult the very fabric of the seat.
The heavy, silver-worked doors groaned on their hinges, the sound echoing like a funeral bell as they swung open. Dream stepped into the hall, his stride faltering for a fraction of a second, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of the Archangel sprawling where he didn't belong. Beside him, Dorcas and the Queen of Nature went rigid, their faces tightening into masks of strain as the sheer, radiant pressure of Michael's grace bore down on them like a physical weight.
"How dare you sit upon my throne," Dream said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous hiss that caused the woven figures in the wall tapestries to ripple in fear.
The silence that followed was a suffocating shroud, thick enough to make the lungs ache. Michael didn't move a muscle. He simply smirked, his eyes trailing over the three of them with a look of mocking pity, as if they were nothing more than children returning home to find their favorite toys broken in the dirt.
"I knew you'd be back soon, little traitor," Michael said, his voice coming out as smooth and cold as a sheet of polished glass. "I’ve been sitting here wondering exactly how I’m going to destroy you."