The ruins had fallen silent, but silence did not mean safety.

  Sariel stood motionless, the remnants of the unknown force still lingering in the air like the aftershock of a violent quake. The pull of Lucifer’s mark had faded, but the absence was not relief. It was a void. A hollow space where certainty should have been.

  Kairos was already moving, his movements sharp, restless. He hadn’t spoken since the creature vanished, but his grip on his sword was too tight, his expression too still.

  She had seen enough warriors in Heaven and Hell alike to know what that meant.

  He was waiting for something.

  Sariel swallowed, forcing her voice to work. “It knew my name.”

  Kairos’s jaw flexed. He kept walking. “A lot of things in Hell know your name. You’re useful.”

  Sariel hesitated before following. The air still felt too thick, charged with something she couldn’t define. “But this was different. That thing—it severed the bond. It spoke as if I was… still an option.”

  Kairos stopped abruptly. He turned, his golden eyes sharper than before. “And?”

  Sariel’s breath hitched.

  And what?

  And did she prefer that claim to Lucifer’s? Did she dare hope for a different fate, even knowing there was no true escape?

  And if she did, would it even matter?

  She clenched her fists. “I just need to understand what it was.”

  Kairos exhaled slowly, like he was deciding how much to say. Then—

  “You think Lucifer is the most dangerous thing in Hell.”

  It wasn’t a question.

  Sariel blinked, thrown off by the sudden statement. “I think he’s powerful.”

  Kairos nodded, stepping closer, voice lower. “He is. But he is also… expected. Lucifer’s will is known. His laws, his ambitions, his fury—it is all within the order of things. Predictable.”

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  Sariel frowned. “And that thing wasn’t?”

  Kairos’s expression darkened. “No.”

  The word carried weight.

  The kind of weight that meant danger beyond measure.

  He studied her, then sighed. “That wasn’t a demon. Not by Lucifer’s making, anyway.”

  Sariel’s stomach twisted. “Then what was it?”

  Kairos looked past her, toward the chasm where it had disappeared.

  “Something forgotten.”

  A chill ran through Sariel.

  Before she could push further, the air shifted again. Not with the presence of the unknown force—but with something far more familiar.

  A voice echoed from above.

  “Well, well.”

  Kairos stiffened.

  Sariel barely had time to react before the world lurched. The shattered ruins trembled as dark wings spread across the broken sky.

  A new presence descended, cold and deliberate.

  And then—

  Lucifer’s second-in-command landed in front of them.

  The Harbinger of Chains

  Sariel had heard his name whispered through Hell’s corridors, but she had never seen him in person.

  Xyrael.

  He was tall, even by celestial standards. His frame was covered in dark armor that seemed forged from the bones of the fallen, and his wings—vast, obsidian black—shimmered with the remnants of a past divine radiance.

  His face was a mask of cruelty. Not rage. Not malice.

  Cruelty.

  The kind that had patience. The kind that didn’t need to rush.

  Kairos tensed, shifting into a defensive stance. His fingers twitched over the hilt of his blade, but he did not draw it.

  Xyrael smirked. “Oh, don’t look so grim, Kairos.” He tilted his head. “I was beginning to think you’d truly abandoned us.”

  Kairos didn’t reply.

  Sariel felt the tension like a knife against her throat.

  Xyrael’s gaze slid to her.

  “Ah.” He exhaled, amused. “So this is the cherubim who thinks she can walk the line without consequence.”

  Sariel held his gaze, forcing herself not to look away.

  Xyrael’s smirk deepened. “You rejected him.”

  He didn’t say Lucifer’s name. He didn’t need to.

  Sariel squared her shoulders. “I didn’t accept him.”

  Xyrael laughed. “A clever distinction.” He took a slow step forward. “But the truth remains. You were sent to him, and yet here you stand—unclaimed.”

  His eyes gleamed with something sharp, assessing.

  “And you shouldn’t be.”

  Sariel swallowed. The last encounter with Lucifer had left a mark, but this?

  This was something else.

  Lucifer was fire. Wrath. The sun fallen from Heaven, burning in defiance.

  But Xyrael…

  Xyrael was a blade pressed against your ribs, waiting for the moment you least expect him to strike.

  He stopped just inches from her, voice softer. “Do you know what happens to things left unclaimed in Hell, Sariel?”

  She didn’t answer.

  He smiled. “They become fair game.”

  Kairos finally moved.

  It was subtle, just half a step closer to her side, but it was enough.

  Xyrael sighed. “Still playing hero, Kairos?”

  Kairos’s voice was low. “Leave.”

  Xyrael’s amusement didn’t fade. “Oh, I will. But not before I deliver a message.”

  Sariel stiffened.

  Xyrael’s dark eyes locked onto hers. “You will return to him. And when you do, there will be no more offers.”

  Sariel’s blood ran cold.

  Xyrael leaned in just slightly.

  “You think escaping one claim means you have a choice.”

  A smirk.

  “You don’t.”

  Then—

  He was gone.

  A gust of wind, a flicker of darkness—and he vanished.

  The silence left behind was suffocating.

  Sariel exhaled shakily. “He—”

  “I know.”

  Kairos’s voice was tense, clipped. He ran a hand down his face, then exhaled sharply. “We have a problem.”

  Sariel swallowed. “We already had a problem.”

  Kairos turned to her, something unreadable in his gaze. “No.” He shook his head. “Before, you were being pulled between two forces.”

  He looked toward the ruins, toward where Xyrael had vanished.

  “Now?” His jaw clenched.

  “Now, you have three.”

  Sariel’s breath caught.

  Kairos turned, already moving again.

  Sariel followed, her

  mind racing.

  One step.

  Another.

  And then—

  The mark on her skin burned to life once more.

  She gasped.

  Kairos snapped his head toward her—

  And the ruins collapsed around them.