The fight began with waves rising higher than mountains. The man who mastered electricity turned his lightning into a spear, hurled against Mara. The Destroyer of Lust, with saliva dripping from her lips, grew increasingly aggressive as the confrontation progressed.
Words of desire never failed her when referring to him. Still, the man's almost chivalrous contempt made Mara clench her fists.
Amid the exchange of blows, Faller stepped back, touched the sea, and in the next instant, electricity struck her. Shadows rose around him like hunters swallowing prey, but the darkness shattered into fragments as he advanced.
One of the swords was seized and turned against her. Electricity flowed along the blade like waves, and the shock tore through her seductive body.
Yet, like thousands of blades, the shadows pierced her form. Faller gripped them, pulled the Destroyer toward him, and then their heads collided with a brutal impact that sent her flying into the sky.
Her body thrashed across the sea, held up by her own shadows. Faller, leaping between corpses, shaped lightning in his hands, forming a spear that ran her through.
The shadows recoiled before the light, and her scream echoed throughout Inferius. Faller tried to stay on his feet, but dropped to his knees. His hand pressed against his darkened chest, his heart tightened, and he coughed blood onto the ground.
Even so, amid the murmurs, he knew the Destroyer would not fall so easily.
And she proved it.
The sea turned black, swallowing him. Even as he reached toward the light, escape was denied him. Suspended above the waters, Mara recognized him as a strong man. Still, she admitted that the power he now possessed surpassed anything she had held in the last five hundred years.
On the platforms raised into the sky, Hades walked slowly toward Victoria, who retreated while jets of water formed in her hands. He questioned where such audacity came from, why a human would insist on fighting a losing battle. She refused to answer, throwing another question back at him.
Hearing her, he clenched his fists beneath the dark armor. His white eyes narrowed, and his voice grew deeper. The only human trait that still sparked his interest was stubbornness. Ridiculous, yet undeniably firm.
With no answers given, Hades declared the Pillar's life disposable.
Before he could act, Victoria felt her body freeze. Her mind screamed for movement, but her body betrayed her.
And then the touch upon her chest had already been made.
The being acknowledged that the woman before him was impressive. Still, he saw no reason to use force against someone so weakened.
He only asked that she accept the power that would be granted to her in the coming days.
And so, she vanished like smoke.
The Destroyer of Wrath raised his gaze to the sky and asked himself if Shaphira had been right about him.
The memories still burned. The violent fight, the water mingling with darkness, the leaps between platforms that made the air tremble. A glimpse of a place that existed only in Inferius one that had almost driven humanity to extinction.
Running his hand over his face, in a whisper, Hades asked, with respect, that Krythos not use him, nor his sister, for one more instant.
And then the Devil emerged from the darkness.
Hades' body was hurled against the wall. Krythos seized him by the face, fingers cracking his armor, asking if this wasn't, deep down, exactly what he had always wanted. Since the sealing, since the absence of the father.
Even trying to move, his body betrayed him. When the God of Destruction stepped back, Hades fell to his knees, shadows struggling to escape his armor.
Krythos laughed, mocking his attempt at restraint.
He gripped his chin and cited Mara as an example. According to him, she had never hesitated to surrender to her own nature. Yet Hades admitted there was only one thing he hated.
Hate.
Krythos fell silent.
Then, with a calm gesture, the armor shattered.
Shadows exploded across the dimension like a scream held back for centuries. As if every restraint had been broken at once. Inferius warped and twisted, and Krythos watched with a wide smile, praising him for finally yielding to his own instincts.
With a single touch, everything returned.
The armor reformed. Denser, more brutal, as aggressive as the shadows that had tried to consume him. His eyes no longer glowed. Only darkness.
Satan turned to leave and declared:
If Hades hesitated once more, he would be forced to rebuild his own armor while accepting his eternal duty.
And then he departed.
Hades remained there, fists clenched, small fragments of restraint falling and echoing against the platforms.
His gaze carried more than contempt.
There was a purpose. A target.
Someone who would pay for the Wrath still to come.
Reality split beneath the sword's cut, and the next words escaped like rust being torn away:
"It won't be just the Destroyer of Reason who will make him suffer, Slady..."