Enel was gone...Uriel’s blade lowered, its radiant edge dimming with his confusion. The archangel’s eyes remained on Love as she turned her back on the battlefield and began to walk away.
His voice rang out behind her—asured, but sharp.
"What did you an by that, Love?"
She didn’t stop walking.
Uriel stepped forward, feathers stirring with each deliberate movent. His wings flared in tense frustration, his heart still burning with the taste of the near battle he had lost.
"Why did you help him?" His voice rose now, deeper, edged with divine indignation. "You allowed a being from another ti—a heretic wrapped in chaos—to enter the Heart of Hell. Do you even know what you’ve done?"
At this, Love paused. The winds that carried ash and broken stone seed to still around her.
She looked over her shoulder, eyes calm.
"It doesn’t matter what I’ve done, Uriel."
He clenched his fists.
She continued, her voice growing soft and chilling with certainty.
"What matters is what must be undone."
She turned away again and began walking. Her next words floated over her shoulder like silk knives:
"The demons here must forget what they saw. Every last one."
Uriel’s eyes narrowed.
"You dare—"
But she cut him off, her tone now laced with finality.
"No one can be allowed to rember the path to Hell’s Heart. Erase their minds, Uriel. This much iou can agree with, and I know a Cherubim of your caliber is capable of this much."
A silence fell between them, heavy with tension and ancient judgnt.
Uriel’s jaw clenched. His golden eyes flicked across the smoldering ruins of the battlefield—where demons, bloodied and battered, crawled toward shadows or gawked in awe at where the Heart had once pulsed. So had seen it. So had even tried to reach it.
And yet, Love was right.
They could not be allowed to rember.
"Tch." He clicked his tongue and exhaled sharply through his nose, frustration grinding in his bones. But obedience—his oldest instinct—overrode it.
He wouldn’t argue further.
Not here.
But in his mind, the plan was already forming. The mont this was over, he would return. He would report all of it to Lucifer.
Without another word, he raised his hands.
His angelic wings unfolded wide, vast and holy, arching above the battlefield like curtains of light. A great halo materialized above him, spinning slowly at first—then faster, until it blurred into a golden vortex.
The mory Veil.
A divine sheet of light rushed downward, enveloping every demon, every broken angel, every witness. Eyes turned blank. Minds stilled. Thoughts of this day—of the Heart—burned to ash in their mory.
They would wake with no knowledge of what had transpired.
None but Uriel.
Behind him, the last portal shimred.
Love stepped through it.
As the light swallowed her silhouette, her lips curled into a small, pleased grin.
"Perfect," she whispered. "All that remains is the purgatory prison after the fall of man. Don’t get caught in it, okay."
And then she was gone.
The skies of Hell began to quiet. The scattered angels gathered themselves, shaking off the dust and the blood of the brutal confrontation. Their armor smoked. Their halos dimd.
A young angel, wings clipped and charred, looked up at Uriel.
"Commander, what... happened?"
Uriel’s golden eyes turned toward him, unreadable.
"Nothing of importance," he said coolly, his voice low and sharp with finality. "The threat has passed. Return to Purgatory."
There were murmurs, but none dared question him.
With a thunderous rush of wind and light, the angels ascended—blades sheathed, questions buried, leaving behind the broken terrain of Hell and its dumbfounded demons, who no longer rembered what they had seen.
But Uriel did not follow them.
Instead, his wings flared outward, a shimr of silver and gold against the crimson skies, and he turned—heading for the realm of Earth. Pri Earth.
The place holding Eden, the first garden.
He arrived at twilight.
Uriel landed on the grassy ridges of an untouched valley, sowhere at the wilderness. The air was rich with Eden’s mory, but the sweetness had curdled—there was sothing wrong. Sothing... human.
And then he heard it.
Moaning. Soft. Rhythmic.
He blinked, frowning.
"...Master?" he called aloud, confused. "There’s sothing I need to speak with you about. It’s urgent."
For a mont, silence.
Then a rustle of leaves.
Lucifer stepped into view—naked, glistening with sweat, a faint smirk on his lips. His skin glowed in the warm dusk light, and his long golden hair was tousled by passion.
By his side, half-clinging to his arm, was a human woman.
Her skin pale, her eyes wide and innocent—yet flushed with exhaustion. Her hair was the color of fresh-spilled blood, cascading down her back in tangled waves. A simple robe, woven crudely from Eden’s leaves, clung to her, doing little to hide her form. Her lips were parted. Her breath still heavy.
Uriel froze.
His mind could not comprehend what he was seeing.
"...Who is she?" he asked, stunned.
The woman smiled shyly and gave a timid wave, before stepping behind Lucifer as if unsure whether she was allowed to speak.
Lucifer, unfazed, smiled like a serpent proud of his apple.
"Her na is Lilith," he said. "And she will be my bride."
Bride?
The word slamd into Uriel’s heart like a sword.
"What... is going on?" he asked, almost in a whisper.
Lucifer stretched his arms and took a deep breath, the valley behind him peaceful, the wind gentle.
"You’ve been gone for a long ti, old friend. While you were busy, the won of Eden... made a choice. They tasted the fruit of the One Above All. The fruit they were warned against. From the Tree of Knowledge."
Uriel’s eyes widened.
"They... fell?"
Lucifer gave a nod, amused. "Banished. Their connection to Him severed."
And then, like a thunderclap, it hit Uriel.
He rembered the visions he had seen in Enel’s mind—his forbidden mories of what was to co. The things about Eden that were yet to co, and even the fall of man. And of course, Enel’s true mother. The seed of a story too ancient for even angels to fully grasp.
Uriel’s eyes drifted to Lilith again.
Her body trembled gently. She was still sweating. Still quiet.
He stepped forward a little, hesitant, voice softer now.
"Are you... comfortable?"
Lilith didn’t reply.
She simply lowered her gaze and hid behind Lucifer’s fra, her fingers tightening on his arm.
Lucifer chuckled, stroking her hair like she was a delicate prize.
"She cannot answer you, Uriel. The fruit she ate was not only of knowledge. It took her tongue. The price for knowing what she should not."
Uriel stiffened.
The truth clawed at his chest.
The forbidden future he had glimpsed in Enel’s Satan system—it was real. It was happening. Right now.
Lucifer, seemingly unaware of the storm brewing in Uriel’s eyes, turned toward the angel once more.
"So then, what did you co to tell ? Were the entities you chased in Hell still a problem?"
Uriel hesitated... then forced a soft chuckle.
"No. No, they were just... illusions. Shadows playing tricks."
Lucifer laughed.
"Good. Then there’s nothing to worry about."
He placed a kiss on Lilith’s forehead and turned to walk back into the valley with her, cradling her close.
Uriel didn’t speak again.
He didn’t move.
His eyes—those tiless, glowing orbs—were locked not on Lucifer, but on Lilith’s womb.
And within it, through the angel’s divine sight...
he saw a child.
Tiny. Forming. Yet already powerful.
Already... sothing else.
Lilith was pregnant.
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