Lucifer Morningstar, shortly before the Extermination
An incredibly vast cavern, located deep within the bowels of the Pride Ring and dubbed Tartarus, was typically used as a training ground for the strongest of demons. But today, its gloomy, crack-riddled vaults echoed with the desperate, agonizing screams of the King of Hell. Lucifer Morningstar had just learned something from his… friend and beloved wife that his mind outright refused to accept.
Hearing the truth from Adam about Eve's global schemes and, even more terrifyingly, about the true, horrifying nature of God, it felt as though he had been dragged through a meat grinder. The ancient Seraphim had shattered completely on the inside, only to somehow, incomprehensibly, piece himself back together.
"Why, Father?!" Lucifer screamed, his voice breaking as his manic gaze bored into the solid, stony ceiling above. "I stood by your side at the very dawn of time! I watched your own hands raise the beautiful gardens of Eden! I remember the creation of us—the Seraphim, your children. How my brothers and sisters lovingly sculpted Eve and Adam in your image!" He ground his teeth until they cracked. For the first time in his ten thousand years of exile, he felt something entirely alien toward his Creator, overshadowing the familiar, all-consuming guilt and burning shame: blinding rage. "I saw the gleaming Heavenly City rise. You created all this magnificence, and we loved you with every fiber of our being! You were our inextinguishable Light, our sun in the dark, our first breath, our blood!" Hot tears streamed from the Fallen One's red eyes, leaving wet trails down his pale skin. "You were everything to us!"
No longer able to hold back the surging storm of emotions, he weakly bowed his head, his shoulders shaking.
"Forgive me, Lord," the King of Hell's voice trembled, dropping to a hoarse whisper. "For all my monstrous mistakes, for the pride that blinded me, for all the sins of this world that came to pass because of me." Taking a shuddering breath, Lucifer gathered his strength and looked up again into the indifferent emptiness of Tartarus. "Forgive me, Heavenly Father! My faith was always absolute, but now poisonous doubts tear at my mind! Why… Why did you abandon us?"
There was no answer. Only the cold, distorted echo of his own cracking voice bounced endlessly off the basalt walls, returning to him.
Could it be that Eve hadn't lied? Was their merciful father, the almighty God they worshipped, truly just playing with their lives like pawns on a massive chessboard? Had he really abandoned them to their fate just for this pointless, cruel game against the Darkness? Or, perhaps, was all this just an elaborate deception? A test of their devotion?
Receiving no answer and completely drained of moral strength, Lucifer collapsed heavily to his knees, like a puppet with its strings cut. His empty, deadened gaze focused on his own trembling hands.
"Whatever the truth is..." The King of Hell slowly clenched his fists, his nails digging into his skin until golden blood welled up. His tears dried, and his face twisted into a terrifying grimace of icy fury. "I will trust Adam. I've already sinned far too much against Heaven and every soul of the light. You'll just have to survive one more betrayal from me, Father..."
Hell, the Pride Ring
Today's Extermination was radically different from all the bloody purges that came before it.
The heavenly executioners, clad in new, upgraded black-and-white armor that struck an even deeper primal terror into the hearts of sinners, were not armed with their usual angelic spears. Instead of engaging in close combat, they blurred at supersonic speeds above the grim streets of Pentagram City. Blinding spheres of concentrated, scorching Light hummed as they fired from the angels' palms. Upon the slightest contact with a target, this divine fire instantly and utterly consumed the flesh and souls of the sinners, not even leaving a handful of ashes behind.
However, the change in arsenal was far from the only—and certainly not the most unbelievable—oddity of the day.
The angels weren't killing everyone.
Many denizens of Hell, especially those who had only recently fallen into this world, watched the inexplicable spectacle in sheer horror: they saw the ruthless Exorcists cold-bloodedly vaporize screaming demons mere feet away, yet completely ignore them, as if looking right through them. For the first time in the thousands of years of Hell's bloody history, the unfortunate souls who saw the face of Death from Heaven with their own eyes didn't lose their heads a split second later. Hell, in the old days, not all newcomers even believed Exorcists were real—simply because almost everyone who encountered them died on the spot.
Thousands of winged warrior women swept through the neon streets of the metropolis in an organized swarm, methodically purging entire city blocks, yet pointedly ignoring specific sinners based on criteria that were absolutely baffling to Hell's inhabitants. Furthermore, they no longer wasted time on sadistic taunts, drawn-out chases, or terrifying their victims, as they had in the past. The Exorcists didn't laugh, didn't revel in the bone-chilling fear of their prey. It gave the distinct impression that the holy host was in a massive hurry, as if this Extermination could be cut short at any second, and the girls were doing everything in their power to maximize their body count before "Hour X" arrived.
And then, the grandiose slaughter ceased in an instant.
Every single angel, obeying some unseen command, synchronously froze high in the crimson sky, halting their deadly assaults. A second later, they extended their right arms outward: the fabric of space before them fractured into glowing golden cracks, and reality tore open, revealing thousands of portals leading straight back to Heaven.
Without a moment's hesitation, the legions of Heaven shot forward and plunged into the gaping vortexes. A minute later, the portals snapped shut, leaving the surviving, shell-shocked sinners in a ringing silence, completely and utterly oblivious to the absurd horror that had just unfolded before their eyes.
Charlie Morningstar
The Princess of Hell stood frozen by the massive panoramic window of the Hazbin Hotel. Her pale fingers nervously gripped the edge of her favorite red blazer. Just beyond the glass, the familiar chaos of the annual Extermination was playing out. Brilliant flashes of golden light constantly illuminated the perpetually blood-red sky, casting anxious shadows across the girl's face. This time, however, everything was different.
She saw with her own eyes how the swift, black-and-white silhouettes of the Exorcists darted past the hotel's spires, making no attempt to approach the walls or attack it. But what shocked her the most was that they were actually sparing certain sinners on the streets. The angels would hover in the air for a fraction of a second above a potential victim, as if scanning the stranger's soul, before darting off again, gifting the stunned demon their life.
"They… They're really not touching them…" Charlie whispered in awe, pressing a hand to her lips. She felt tears of overwhelming relief rapidly welling in her eyes. The massive, suffocating lump of fear that had been lodged in her throat for the past few days finally began to melt away.
Adam kept his word! He hadn't lied; he had believed her! He believed in her seemingly crazy idea about redeeming corrupted souls and gave the people of Hell this tiny, yet monumentally important, chance! Just that one bright thought made the princess's heart beat wildly, filling with a timid, warming hope. It meant all this fighting wasn't for nothing!
Charlie had realized quite a while ago, after their private conversations, that the current Commander of the Exorcists was actually incredibly far from the one-dimensional, bloodthirsty butcher Hell painted him as. Deep down, she saw him as something akin to a strict but fair older brother. She respected his strength and wisdom, but knowing Hell's brutal history and understanding how vital these purges were to Heaven, Charlie had still been in a state of sheer panic up to the very last second. She was terrified that Adam might change his mind after witnessing the irredeemable filth of Pentagram City.
That was exactly why she had bent over backwards trying to show him their good sides. And now, unable to tear her eyes away from the miracle of the holy army consciously sparing terrified sinners, she felt boundless gratitude toward the Commander-in-Chief of the Heavenly Legions.
Suddenly, warm, familiar hands gently rested on her shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. Charlie didn't even need to turn around to know exactly who was standing behind her.
"It's okay, Charlie. We're safe," Vaggie said quietly, her voice laced with tenderness as she pressed her cheek against the top of the princess's head. Beneath her usually strict tone, a profound sense of relief was evident, even if the former Exorcist was trying to keep it together. "Adam kept his word."
"Yeah, I believed in him from the start." Charlie affectionately placed her hand over her girlfriend's and offered a weak but genuine smile. "We're definitely going to make this work now."
This touching scene was unceremoniously interrupted by the loud clacking of heels. Angel Dust strutted into the hotel lobby from the living quarters with his signature walk, clicking his tongue in extreme annoyance. In all six of his arms, he was struggling to hold a massive pile of hangers: feather boas, extravagant hats, rhinestone-studded blazers, and latex shorts so revealing that calling them "shorts" was a huge stretch.
"Listen, girls, I get it: historical moment, crisis, Exterminations, whatever… But you could make yourselves useful!" the six-armed spider complained, rolling his eyes theatrically as he dumped the mountain of clothes onto the nearest sofa. "We've only got a month before we head up to Heaven! A month! And I have absolutely no fucking clue what to pack for those holy rollers! Am I allowed to wear my favorite pink latex up there, or are they gonna tell me to fuck off right at the gates for offending the believers?!"
Throwing that tirade into the void and not bothering to wait for an answer, Angel snatched up a couple of blazers and disappeared toward the kitchen, continuing to mutter under his breath about a lack of suitcases and the presumably boring fashion sense of celestial beings. Sounds of a commotion were already drifting from the kitchen—under the rather displeased supervision of a grumbling Husk, Pentious and his army of Egg Bois were trying to bake a celebratory cake…
Watching all this domestic chaos, Charlie couldn't hold back a soft laugh, wiping away her tears of joy. Yes, a monumental amount of work with the sinners lay ahead, along with long negotiations and a terrifyingly unknown meeting with the Heavenly Seraphim. But right here, in this exact second, the Princess of Hell was happy.
POV Adam
Sitting on my golden throne-chair and glued to the projection screens watching my girls "disciplinedly frolic" in Hell, I let a wide, highly satisfied smirk stretch across my face.
The sinners down there are probably collectively changing their soiled pants right now, frantically racking their brains to figure out the incomprehensible logic behind who got butchered today and who got spared. But the trick was actually pretty simple!
Reminder: a few months ago, I quietly deployed a massive swarm of invisible micro-drones across all levels of Hell under the radar. Sure, those little tin cans couldn't directly sense Eve's Darkness like the new models, but they were completely invisible to sinners and almost all demons. Because of that, they were absolutely stellar at gathering intel. Thanks to the invaluable help of a certain engineer buddy who seriously worked his magic on their optics, the drones had been constantly monitoring thousands of sinners in their "natural habitat," streaming that colossal database straight to our servers.
And back here, a team of specially trained (by yours truly, naturally) guys and gals—let's be honest, mostly gals—were evaluating their actions around the clock. The result of all that analytical grunt work was a highly detailed list that clearly separated the ones who needed to be put down ASAP for the good of the universe, and the ones we shouldn't touch.
Our main grading criterion was their potential for redemption. Obviously, we couldn't know what sins they committed when they were alive, but picking out the "best of the worst" based on their current behavior? Totally doable. And if this selective purging method works out, I'm officially crowning myself a super-mega-good guy!
We pulled this plan off thanks to the drones and the totally overhauled Exorcist helmets with AR: now, sinners were conveniently color-coded in their visors.
Greens were strictly off-limits—these demons had a real, albeit tiny, shot at redemption under Charlie's program. Reds were ordered to be exterminated as fast as possible—these were the most deranged psychos and certain Overlords (shoutout to the fucking moth and the TV, hope you got found). Yellow, meanwhile, highlighted the so-called "gray area"—the ones our analysts couldn't fully classify or didn't have time to evaluate. A shitty little "Extermination Traffic Light." For the yellows, my girls had to rely on their gut: decide on the fly whether to let the shady bastard live or turn him into a shish kebab just to be safe.
Sure, if this was a classic army from my old world, the system would only have two colors—red and green. No sane general in their right mind gives a frontline grunt moral free rein in the heat of battle. But… I've never been a normal general, so fuck it! My girls are smart—they'll figure it out!
I mentally sang Saraqael's praises for the hundredth time; it's practically a habit now. The guy can be an absolute psycho sometimes (I still can't get over the fact that the fucking "lock" for Eve looks like a soccer ball!), but when it comes to complex magical engineering and artifact crafting, he's a goddamn genius.
Watching my squads operate like a well-oiled machine, I caught myself thinking that I desperately need to level up that aspect of my own skill tree. Sure, I'm physically and magically stronger. Hell, I can incinerate entire planets with a holy beam if I want to, shift their orbits with telekinesis, and I've even figured out how to conjure more than just wooden stools out of thin air. But complex mechanisms that delicately weave magic and technology? That's objectively above my paygrade right now. I'm jealous of Sar in the purest way possible. I should really beg to be his apprentice for a couple of centuries once all this bullshit is over.
Or, I could try to find some workaround: copy his knowledge and download it straight into my brain. Doesn't sound completely impossible…
I should make an important detour here about how my power actually works. Even though I was technically just a standard archangel, I was already at the top of the food chain. I was First after the Seraphim, standing solidly on the exact same power level as the rulers of the circles of Hell. But as time went on, I only kept getting stronger, and right now, in terms of raw, brute force, I outclassed all the Seraphim combined.
But even with that colossal power came problems. Specifically, the sensory network I invented put massive pressure on my brain when expanded, and it couldn't provide detailed feedback over a massive radius. Because of that, right now, when the risk of a surprise attack on Heaven was at its absolute peak, I had to do something that was completely illogical in terms of energy conservation, but incredibly fucking genius in terms of tactics.
I simply flooded the entirety of Heaven with my Light, just like I used to do for teleportation, except now that energy was acting as a gigantic, hyper-sensitive radar beacon. What I couldn't afford to do before because of the sheer stamina drain, I could handle now—over a dozen cities in Heaven were literally saturated with my Light.
And that is exactly why, when I suddenly felt someone aggressively "altering" my Light, when thick, familiar Darkness rapidly began to form right in the dead center of one of our celestial training grounds...
Well, first of all, it scared the absolute shit out of me, but we're not telling anyone that. And second of all, without wasting a single millisecond, I immediately slammed the Code Red: the civilian evacuation signal and a full combat-readiness order for all troops.
"Adam?" Abel asked, his voice laced with concern as he stood to my left.
"Looks like it's starting…" I replied hoarsely, slowly rising from my chair and simultaneously beaming a distress signal to the Deadly Sins in Hell.
I really, really wanted to avoid this full-scale bloodbath, but… I seriously doubt that's happening. Eve is far from stupid, a fact blatantly confirmed by the tens of thousands of pulsating spatial rifts that just tore open across our skies, leading to a pitch-black dimension I didn't recognize.
The enemy was at our gates.
Unknown Dark Space
Endless gloom swirled all around.
"He struck a secret deal with the Deadly Sins of Hell and is completely ready for our invasion. He's already amassed his troops," Lilith said, not even trying to hide a smug, confident smile as she looked straight into Eve's eyes. Eve sat in a black armchair at the epicenter of this dark void. "I'm almost one hundred percent certain that even if the rulers of Hell answer Adam's call, they'll bolt the second I show up. They might even betray Heaven and fight on our side, if I choose the right words."
"Is that so..." Eve hummed thoughtfully. Outwardly, she looked perfectly calm, though her eyes flickered with Darkness. The woman gracefully pressed a pale finger to her cheek. "That is excellent news. Once Heaven finally falls under our assault, when I can seize the power of the Seraphim and drag Adam to our side… Those arrogant Demiurges will finally be overthrown. They won't destroy our world or start their new, bloody game. And all of this was only made possible thanks to you, Lilith. Thank you for your help."
Eve gave a deep, grateful nod, showing her respect to the First Woman.
"No thanks are necessary," the Queen of Hell replied, gracefully shaking her head. "After the revelation I had, after absorbing that cursed soul and seeing the true nature of things, I simply couldn't physically do anything else. We have to save our world, no matter the cost."
"Even so, I am endlessly grateful to you." A smile played on Eve's lips. "Prepare to move out. I will go first and tear open a stable rift straight into the heart of Paradise for all of you, so you can save as much of your strength as possible for the battle with the Exorcists. Don't forget to buff our troops before the jump..."
"All of them?" Lilith theatrically swept her elegant arm toward the colossal armada lurking in the darkness behind them. Tens of thousands of entities burning with rage: corrupted cherubs, ancient demons, and a gigantic monstrosity woven entirely from Darkness, complete with a hundred writhing tentacles and razor-filled maws haphazardly scattered across its body. "Isn't that a bit much?"
"But you can handle it, can't you?" Eve raised an eyebrow. A note of steel slipped into her voice, making it clear she wasn't asking; she was demanding.
"Absolutely. Don't even doubt it," Lilith nodded confidently, smoothly turning her back to the avatar of Darkness. "I'll get right on it." Saying this, the Demon Queen slowly drifted through the gloom toward the army, preparing to execute her true plan.
She really was going to sing, but her goal was the exact opposite of what she claimed. Lilith was preparing a debilitating song disguised as a battle cry. A song designed to cripple the strength of these monsters and make the impending, brutal battle as easy as possible for Adam and his warriors.
An image of Lucifer floated into the woman's mind—they had spoken just a few hours ago, for the first time in seven years.
"I'm counting on you, boys..." she whispered soundlessly, her lips barely moving, feeling her insides clench with terror for the fate of the universe, which would be decided in the coming hours.