[Azazel's POV]
Inside a broadcasting studio within the same complex, the emergency address was about to begin. Sirzechs and Serafall—the current Crimson Satan Lucifer and Leviathan—prepared to speak to a world on the brink.
I stood in the wings, watching them.
Using every available channel, the two Satans were set to address the entire Underworld, including the territories of the Fallen Angels, to explain the catastrophe unfolding around them.
The red light flickered on, and the cameras rolled. Sirzechs appeared on the monitors first.
"Citizens of the Underworld. At this moment, our world—including the territories of the Devils and our allies, the Fallen Angels—is facing an unprecedented crisis."
Sirzechs spoke with a calm, paternal gravity as he laid out the facts. He named Rizevim as the architect of the chaos, explained the manipulation of the Evil Dragons, and the revival of the legendary beast, Trihexa. He hid nothing of the creature's rampage across the various mythological realms.
Footage began to play on the screen—the raw, unfiltered reality of war that, until now, had only been seen by high-ranking officials and those on the front lines. The images showed the Trihexa legion laying waste to the Underworld, Heaven, and the Norse lands.
"The creature you are seeing is the legendary beast of the Apocalypse, Trihexa…"
Even for me, seeing the scale of the battle—where even God-class beings were struggling to hold the line—it felt like the end of the world. For the average citizen, it must have been pure terror.
Then, the footage shifted. It showed the enemy retreating and the exhausted but victorious soldiers cheering. Sirzechs continued, with the successful defense of the Norse front playing behind him.
"Devils do not stand alone in this fight. Our allies—the Fallen Angels, the Angels of Heaven, and reinforcements from other pantheons—have rushed to our side."
Sirzechs paused, closing his eyes for a brief moment of silent mourning. When he opened them, he stared directly into the lens, his gaze piercing.
"The enemy's numbers are vast. While we repelled them this time, they will surely return to continue their path of destruction. The scale of this conflict is unlike anything in our history. But I ask you: stay strong. Do not let your hearts falter. We still have hope."
The screen cut to a montage of the new generation's elite: Issei, the Red Dragon Emperor; Rias, the Princess of Destruction; Sairaorg, the next head of the Bael clan; Dulio, the Joker of Heaven. One by one, the faces the public knew and admired flashed across the screen.
"Led by the anti-terror team 'D×D,' the bravest warriors of the Underworld are putting their lives on the line to save the Underworld, to save you, and to save our world."
Suddenly, Serafall leaned into the frame, flashing a bright, reassuring smile at the camera.
"And don't you worry—I'll be heading to the front lines myself!"
Sirzechs smiled at her antics, but his final words were heavy with resolve.
"We will protect the Underworld. We will protect you. Even if it costs us our lives."
The broadcast ended. Sirzechs and Serafall stood up from their seats, the weight of their roles returning to their shoulders as the cameras cut.
I walked over to Serafall. "Still playing the part, I see."
"Precisely because it's a crisis, Azazel. Now… it's time for me to get moving."
Serafall's expression had shifted. The bubbly, magical-girl persona had vanished, replaced by the sharp, lethal gaze of a Great Satan.
Sirzechs gave a small, weary laugh. "I'm always putting a burden on you and your peerage, Serafall. My apologies."
"Don't be so stiff. Haven't we been in this together since the beginning? Moving when the world is in trouble—that's what being a 'Satan' is all about. Besides, So-tan is out there fighting. If her big sister doesn't step up, who will?"
She flashed a peace sign and a wink.
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