Hazbin Hotel: Another Adam

Right now I'm sitting in an outdoor café near home, lazily stirring the milk foam in my latte with a spoon. Around me – the usual heavenly idyll: angels with pleasant smiles on their faces leisurely drink their beverages, and quiet, calming music flows from the speakers. No one knows about the danger to Heaven; no need to burden them with it. And in my soul – a complete shitshow, remnants of fatigue, and a persistent premonition of an impending disaster.

And what did you think? That I'd be running around Heaven like I had a firecracker up my ass, frantically trying to gather an army alone and prepare for the inevitable war with Eve? Yeah, right, dream on. Let those who are supposed to deal with this pain in the ass, not the head exorcist (and concurrently, the main dick). Abel, my dear (and, as it turned out, very executive) son, as soon as he received official notification from Lute about the Class Two alert, immediately and enthusiastically shouldered all this organizational bullshit: mobilization of all exorcist reserves, checking their combat readiness, establishing communication with the HQs of other cities – he was always good at this bureaucratic murk, even from those old times when he helped me on Earth before Cain's betrayal. Let him handle it; he'll definitely do it better and faster than me.

As for me, after getting some sleep and recovering from the exhausting battle with Asmodeus, the first thing I did was head where? That's right! To my "beloved" Seraphim parents! For the umpteenth, fucking, time! No, seriously, I was already getting a persistent feeling of déjà vu from the fact that I was in their goddamn "Council Hall" more often than at my own home!

To avoid dragging out an already lengthy narrative and repeating myself, I'll be brief: I threw another little tantrum for them. This time, however, it was more controlled, without gunfire, but still loud: with swearing and unambiguous threats. Because these… these feathered dickheads and walking halos on legs, again, for fuck's sake, weren't going to do ANYTHING substantive!

No, the phrase "We are deeply concerned by the information received, Adam, and will immediately begin strengthening Heaven's defenses, developing new security protocols, and analyzing the potential threat" sounds, of course, damn important and reassuring. But, fuck! If Eve could so easily pump a Deadly Sin with power comparable to the SERAPHIM themselves, then she herself, obviously, surpasses them all in power, and these feathered idiots in pants (or whatever they wear under their shining robes?) only have ONE real warrior theoretically capable of countering such a transcendent threat! And that warrior is ME! Adam! None of them, including that pompous poser Michael, were clearly planning to engage in a real battle with such an opponent or with Eve herself, preferring, as always, to sit it out behind Heaven's golden walls and command from there!

And yes, this time they also dragged poor Emily to the emergency meeting. Despite my objections: why, I asked, should an innocent child listen to talk about the upcoming universal clusterfuck and the obvious incompetence of her elder "brothers and sisters"? But no, these "know-it-alls" decided it would be "beneficial for her to be aware of the real situation." Idiots. She ended up sitting there the whole time with a completely lost expression, her huge violet eyes wide open, and, it seems, understood fuck all from our tense "exchange of pleasantries" and discussion of threat levels. But now she'll definitely have nightmares about Eve and the end of the world. Well done, you fucking shitty pedagogues.

In the end, after several hours of mutual reproaches, my veiled accusations of inaction, and now outright threats (I rather transparently hinted that if they didn't start moving their asses and actually helping, I would start "reforming" Heaven's defense system according to my personal discretion, and they probably wouldn't like it), they, oh miracle, AGREED to empower me!

They performed some complex seraphic ritual, shone their auras on me, poured concentrated Light into me… As a result, my own energy reserve indeed increased significantly. Roughly to the level of Emily herself. Only, that wasn't ENOUGH for me! I demanded more! I said that against Eve, I needed all possible help! They started mumbling again that it was extremely dangerous, that my soul and body might not withstand such a flow, might rupture from an overabundance of pure energy… To which I simply told them to fuck off and to keep pumping Light into me until I burst or reached Michael's level.

Apparently, my audacity still impressed them. They "powered me up" again, to the max. Now, according to them (and my own sensations), my energy potential – total reserve, regeneration speed, throughput capacity – was at least on par with "adult" Seraphim like Sera or Michael. This, of course, didn't add any new unique skills or knowledge, but the very ability to operate with such a monstrous amount of pure energy – that was already fucking awesome. Thanks, at least for that, you feathered ostriches of mine.

Oh, yes, they also whipped up a new outfit for me for the occasion. And for this, they didn't even disdain to use that same "dangerous" conceptual magic they themselves had been lecturing me about! They wove concepts of Protection, Durability, Strength, Regeneration, and some other complex bullshit for energy stabilization into the very fabric of the mantle. It looked epic, I won't argue. The new Exorcist uniform that Lute, Saraqael, and I were developing was nothing compared to this.

The base of my new attire was a dazzling white mantle made of some dense but incredibly light material resembling silk. A stern, almost military cut: long sleeves, a high stand-up collar, a straight silhouette. The wide white lapels of the mantle were embroidered with a complex, iridescent pattern and bore three stylized eyes each with bright yellow vertical pupils – three on each lapel. Yes, Heaven definitely had some strange fetish for eyes. Under the mantle – a coal-black silk shirt of the finest, yet durable fabric, also with a high collar. The contrast of absolute black and dazzling white looked incredibly stylish and stern; at least, I liked it. The shirt was adorned only with thin golden lines running vertically down the center and outlining the collar, where a small golden cross rested at the throat. The sleeves of the mantle were wide, loose, and ended in massive golden bracers-cuffs with sharp, serrated edges, decorated with a complex ornament resembling either some ancient runes or some other unknown crap. It looked quite aggressive and imposing. A wide golden belt with a massive buckle in the shape of a stylized, pointed letter "A," which Adam loved so much, and perfectly tailored white trousers with thin golden stripes, tucked into high white boots with gold trim, completed the look.

And, of course, under the guise of all this activity, I suggested that all of them (including Emily, who was still sitting with wide eyes) wear those golden rings with large yellow topazes that I had created earlier. The very ones that gave direct access to my personal energy accumulator. And they, much to my surprise, agreed almost immediately! Even Michael, wincing slightly, put on the ring. Either the threat from Eve had really scared them so much that they were ready to accept any help. Or they decided that this way I would finally leave them alone… Who the hell can figure them out.

And so now I'm sitting here. In a quiet heavenly café. Enjoying an excellent latte and a moment of relative calm before the new storm. Mentally preparing for a meeting with my son… Well, yeah. I never would have thought I'd have a son at all. Especially a son who's already several thousand years old. But after I finally dealt with Beelzebub and accepted myself as Adam, something really changed in me. I actually started to feel… real fatherly feelings for Abel. Very strange, unfamiliar, but still – specifically fatherly. I wanted to see him, to talk…

I down the hot coffee in one gulp, leave a couple of shiny heavenly dollars on the table (again, it's completely unnecessary here, but I was used to it) and walk out onto the radiant, soft-lit street. I head towards the Exorcist HQ. Which, oh miracle, was located right opposite the massive building of the Heavenly Embassy. Convenient, you can't say otherwise.

The Exorcist HQ was strikingly different from most of Heaven's pompous structures. No soaring spires in the clouds, no golden domes, and no blindingly white walls. It was a massive, even somewhat squat building, constructed from dark gray, perfectly polished stone resembling andesite. Strict lines, narrow embrasure-like windows, clearly fortified by powerful energy fields, heavy gates of dark metal. The entire building looked like an impregnable medieval fortress or a modern military bunker.

At the entrance, by the massive gates capable of withstanding even Lucifer's blow, stood two female exorcists. Seeing me approach in my new white attire, they immediately snapped to attention and synchronously saluted, placing a fist in an armored gauntlet to their hearts. Helmets were not usually worn in Heaven.

"Greetings, Sir Adam!" their voices sounded simultaneously, clear and militarily crisp.

"Hello, hello, girls, at ease," I nodded friendly to them, walking past. "How's the situation? Anything unusual during my absence?" I decided to check just in case; who knows what might have happened after the alert was declared, though ordinary residents didn't know about it.

"Not at all, sir! Everything is under control, according to Class Two protocol. The officers have already assembled and are awaiting you in the Council Hall," one of them, a tall blonde with a stern gaze, reported sharply.

"Understood, acknowledged. Well, good that everything's calm. Continue your service. You are our first line of defense; always remember that."

"Yes, sir!" the warriors declared again, synchronously and with pride in their voices.

I walked inside the HQ. The interior matched its exterior. No ostentatious heavenly luxury or excesses. Gray, perfectly smooth walls of the same polished dark stone, dully gleaming in the light of strict ceiling fixtures. Wide, echoing corridors, through which exorcists bustled purposefully – some carried electronic tablets with data, some quietly conversed on internal comms, some simply hurried about their business. The air here was imbued with an atmosphere of strict discipline, perfect order, and constant, second-by-second combat readiness.

I walked down the main corridor, past doors leading to training halls, past armories, past living barracks, heading towards the central part of the building, the heart of the Exorcist HQ. Heavy doors before me opened automatically, silently scanning my aura.

The hall was perfectly round, with a high domed ceiling on which a living holographic map of all of Heaven and the seven circles of Hell shimmered, showing all known anomalies and points of potential instability (a relic of the past; it was from there that demons used to be able to open portals to Heaven). In the center of the hall stood a large round table of dark, almost black wood, around which were massive armchairs for the high command, and now almost all of them were occupied by my closest comrades and brothers-in-arms.

"Well, fuck me! Look who finally showed up!" I hadn't even crossed the threshold when a thunderous, slightly hoarse, familiar bass voice greeted me. "I was already thinking you got lost somewhere along the way or decided to pop in on your beloved Seraphim for tea and crumpets again!"

Saint George. One of the oldest and most respected veterans of the First War, one of the first Exorcists personally selected by the previous Adam thousands of years ago. A man appearing to be in his forties (though in reality he was already several thousand years old, like most present here), broad-shouldered, solidly built, with a short haircut of almost completely gray hair and the rough, weathered face of a warrior, which was crossed by an old, ugly scar above his right eye. The scar, received in battle with one of the Goetia princes, hadn't damaged the eyeball itself but gave his appearance even more severity and brutality. He was dressed in his old golden Exorcist armor of the first model – massive, angular, not as elegant as the new one, but incredibly reliable and durable. George had always been like that – straightforward, sharp, gruff, never one to mince words, but at the same time – incredibly loyal to Adam personally and to Heaven, as well as an absolutely fearless, brave warrior.

"Yes, Adam, you could have appeared sooner. We've been waiting for you," a calmer, more melodious, but with clear notes of irony, female voice sounded next to George. Joan of Arc, George's wife. Also a Saint, also a veteran, though not of that war – she wasn't old enough. Unlike most other girls, she hadn't undergone the Light transformation, so she had managed to retain her almost entirely human appearance – golden hair tied in a strict bun at the nape of her neck, clear blue eyes, fine, chiseled features. She looked much younger than George, by about twenty years in earthly terms, but her gaze held the same wisdom, weariness, and steely will. She wore a light but durable silver cuirass over a dark blue tunic and trousers – she preferred mobility to heavy armor. Joan had always been the brains of their pair – calm, reasonable, a natural-born tactician and strategist, capable of calculating moves ahead.

"Hi, Dad! You're right on time!" And there's my son! Abel cheerfully waved at me from a large tactical map near the rostrum, where he, it seemed, had been enthusiastically explaining something to the other officers before my arrival. Still the same smiling good-natured fellow in a white mantle, with naive blue eyes and a kind smile on his round face. And you wouldn't say he was older than everyone present here, not counting me, of course.

Lute, standing next to Abel by the map, simply gave me a short, restrained nod in greeting, but I noticed a warm, relieved smile. She was in her new armor.

Near the entrance, silently leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, stood another veteran from among the Saints – Dimitri. A stern, taciturn warrior with a short, neat dark beard and piercing, attentive gray eyes. It was he who had once developed and perfected that unique, deadly style of fighting with an angelic spear, which all exorcists without exception later used. He was dressed in simple but high-quality leather armor over chainmail, and his angelic spear was visible behind his back. A master of combat, laconic in words and deadly in action.

And in the farthest corner of the hall, almost merging with the shadows, modestly lurked James. The very James, one of the twelve Apostles, who ended up in Heaven after his martyrdom on Earth. Here, in Heaven, he unexpectedly revealed himself to everyone as a brilliant commander and an unsurpassed strategist, despite having almost no military experience in life. A short, thin old man with wise, slightly sad eyes and a neat gray beard. He always kept a little apart from noisy arguments and discussions, preferring to observe and analyze.

That's it, the "Avengers" have assembled in full force, as they say, only Spider-Man is missing…

"Yes, yes, Daddy was a little late, had a couple of urgent matters, I accept my guilt," I said playfully, walking into the center of the hall and spreading my arms in a welcoming gesture. "Why are you all jumping on me right away? I wasn't gone for long!"

The atmosphere in the hall was palpably tense, despite the outward calmness of most of the veterans present. Declaring a Class Two alert is no joke.

I walked over and shook Dimitri's outstretched hand, nodded to James, exchanged a firm handshake-slap on the shoulder with George (which made him grunt with satisfaction), and my dear Lute received a short but tender kiss on the cheek, which made those very cheeks turn slightly pink. Then I headed to the rostrum; Abel immediately stepped aside, intending to come down and give me his place, but I stopped him, fatherly placing my palm on the crown of his head and ruffling his soft light hair.

"Dad! I'm an adult already!" this "adult," who was over ten thousand years old, huffed indignantly. I couldn't help but smirk.

Definitely, at some point, the lived years and centuries cease to weigh on the minds of angels here in Heaven in any way. How else to explain such behavior?

"Yeah, yeah, adult, sure. Don't forget to eat properly, or you'll stay a chubbykins," I teased him and, before he could get indignant again, materialized a small bag of peeled and sliced sweet carrots (his favorite treat back in Eden) in my hand and thrust it into his hands amidst the restrained chuckles of the other officers. Abel pretended to be terribly offended, but still took the bag of carrots, came down from the rostrum, and sat on the bench next to Lute, immediately beginning to crunch demonstratively loudly.

"Why are you all looking at me like that?" I scanned the officers. "I'm taking care of my son, I have every right! Okay, jokes aside, now down to business."

"Adam," George's voice became serious again. "You didn't arrange all this bullshit with the alert just for kicks, did you? Since the day that bitch Lilith," he literally spat her name out with hatred, "started her fucking rebellion seven years ago, we've all been on edge here! We thought then, we got lucky, everything seemed to quiet down. And now again? What the hell happened this time?!"

"He means to ask," Joan gently intervened, noticing that I had frowned slightly at her husband's rough manner of speech, "what is the reason for declaring the Alert this time, Adam? Lilith is here in Heaven now, and as far as I know, she doesn't pose a direct threat. Did Lucifer plot something? Maybe one of the Goetia demons? Or did one of the Deadly Sins decide to play war again? Who is our enemy this time?"

"And what did I say?! Same difference!" George grumbled, offended, for which he immediately received a light but noticeable elbow jab in the ribs from his wife. Everyone again couldn't suppress restrained smiles. Humor, even such, a bit rough, helped to relieve the general tension at least a little. Too much lay on the shoulders of these warriors right now.

"Eh…" I sighed heavily, and all smiles instantly vanished from the faces of those present. A tense silence hung in the hall again. All eyes were fixed on me. Serious, ready for the worst news. "The news is shitty, guys. Very shitty. This time it's much more serious than it was with Lilith. It seems that Eve has finally decided to act…"

"You always have bad luck with women, Adam," Dimitri commented grimly from his corner, but immediately cut himself off, receiving a withering glare from Lute. He hastily swallowed and quickly added: "Not counting Lute, of course! You're very lucky with Lute!"

"The problem isn't even Eve herself, as such, but her power. She somehow managed to endow Asmodeus with might comparable to the power of the Seraphim! I personally clashed with him the other day – barely made it out and almost died in the process! I think you understand that if any of you were in my place, you definitely wouldn't have handled it. And I'm not even talking about her personal strength! If she could so easily empower Asmodeus, then she herself, most likely, now definitely surpasses any of the Seraphim in power… and in the worst case, even all of them combined."

A heavy, oppressive silence hung in the hall. Everyone present – battle-hardened veterans who had survived more than one war – perfectly understood the full scale of the threat hanging over Heaven. The most ancient evil that destroyed Eden had begun to act again. This was far worse than any war with demons before.

"So, we can't expect any real help in battle from our dear 'grandmas' and 'grandpas' upstairs, as usual?" Abel broke the silence gloomily, putting aside his half-eaten carrot. He had always disliked the Seraphim for their passivity, which is why he had once proposed introducing that secret "zero" alert level.

"There will be help, but of a slightly different kind. They won't go into battle themselves," I confirmed his worst fears. "You know their position: 'direct contact with concentrated Darkness is too dangerous for us, blah-blah-blah.' So, once again, it'll be on us to take the heat."

"Fucking cowardly idiots!" George couldn't hold back again, slamming his fist on the table. "They're always sitting it out in Heaven! Bitches, older than all of us by thousands of years, immeasurable power, and they act like cowardly little pricks! Pah!"

"Nevertheless, George, they are providing some real help," I said a little louder, raising my hand with the new golden ring with a large yellow topaz on my finger. "Here, take these."

Five more identical rings flew from my palm and smoothly landed in the outstretched hands of Abel, Lute, George, Joan, Dimitri, and James. They examined them with unconcealed surprise. A simple-looking gold ring with a large, perfectly cut transparent topaz in the center, on which a stylized letter "A" was skillfully engraved.

"This ring is not just a piece of jewelry. It's direct access to my personal energy accumulator, into which even now the surplus from the Seraphim is flowing," I explained, seeing their bewilderment. "You can draw Light from it almost without limits during battle. No more need to fear being left 'empty' at the most inopportune moment. The main thing is – don't overdo it, don't try to channel too large a flow through yourselves at once." My Light hardly harmed me myself, and even I almost burned out from overexertion. The Seraphim slightly modified these rings – now "my" Light, when exiting the ring, is transformed into neutral, so any angel can use it without harm. Plus, they added a bunch of other useful functions. "Also, you can activate a powerful protective field of Light and shoot 'lasers'."

"Am I correct in understanding that issuing such artifacts to rank-and-file exorcists is currently impossible or impractical?" James spoke up, carefully examining the ring on his finger.

"Yep. Absolutely correct," I nodded. "Firstly, they now have new blasters and new armor from Saraqael, which can already do almost all the same things, except for a practically endless source of energy. But the supply of Light in the standard accumulators of their new equipment should be more than enough for any standard battle with demons or sinners. Secondly…" I darkened, "no one will let them into the upcoming battle with Eve herself or her empowered servants like Asmodeus… Even with our special weapons. It would simply be senseless suicide."

"Sounds logical," Joan looked at me intently. "And what kind of special weapon is this, with which, in your opinion, we can harm Eve herself or her new creatures? Did the Seraphim create something new?"

"All genius is simple, Joan." I allowed myself a grim smirk. "Our main weapon against Eve and her creations is that same 'old' weapon that contains the concept of Death. Yes, I also initially thought it needed to be destroyed to fucking hell as soon as possible. But I never gave such an order. Now we have tons of this deadly shit in our warehouses, including firearms reforged by demons."

"So, Adam, what are our further tasks?" James asked, his gaze already calculating options.

"Lute," I turned to her. "You form an elite strike team. A hundred of the best of the best girls. Armament – only firearms made of angelic metal, which we received from Carmilla. Heavy rifles, machine guns, grenade launchers – everything you can find in the warehouses. Your task is fire support for the main group and rapid destruction of any large targets. Intensive training with these weapons can begin in the near future."

"Yes, sir!" Lute replied crisply, militarily. George and Joan threw surprised glances at her.

"Abel, James," I looked at my son and old friend. "Your task is to draw up a global plan of action. You both know our real strength, you know the presumed enemy, so prepare several strategy options on how to fuck up this bullshit that, it seems, is stronger than any Seraph, preferably with minimal losses among our fighters. I need all options – from deep defense of Heaven to a full-scale preemptive invasion of Hell with the aim of finding and destroying Eve before she's ready. Think."

"We'll do our best, Adam," James nodded seriously.

"Got it, Dad, everything will be top-notch!" Abel replied energetically.

"Dimitri," I addressed the silent master of the spear. "You're in charge of developing a new combat style for all Exorcists. Combined. So that they can use both a spear or sword made of angelic metal in close combat, and new blasters or pistols – at medium and long range, as effectively as possible. The girls are excellent with the spear according to your old school, and Lute has already begun to teach them the basics of tactics using Earth special forces methods, but all this needs to be combined into something really workable, universal, and deadly; you're a master at this."

Dimitri nodded silently and briefly, his gray eyes shining with determination. He'll do it in the best possible way.

"Joan," I looked at the young woman. "You're in charge of all operational response and command of the main exorcist forces in Heaven. Patrolling, maintaining order."

"I understand, Adam, you can count on me," she replied firmly.

"George…" I looked at her husband. "And you will help your dear wife."

"But I don't know jack shit about your strategy, coordination, and other staff bullshit!" he even spread his hands in bewilderment.

"And I'm not asking you to!" I smirked. "Your task will be much simpler and more pleasant for you. You'll be her personal bodyguard and heavy fire support. You'll just stand next to her and 'hit very hard with a stick' anyone who suddenly tries to sneak into Heaven, if such idiots suddenly appear. Can you handle such a task?"

"Oh! Now that's talk! That's our style! I'll do it, Commander! You can count on it!" George roared, enthusiastically thumping his fist on his chest.

"Excellent. Any questions about task distribution?"

The next hour and a half were spent in discussions. I answered their numerous questions, clarified details of my fight with Asmodeus and the Darkness that came out of him, listened to initial drafts of ideas and proposals, gave instructions. The atmosphere in the hall was heavy, tense, but quite businesslike. Everyone here – hardened veterans, and everyone perfectly understood the seriousness of the situation.

After the official part of the meeting, we had a little drink – not strong alcohol, of course, but light heavenly wine – just to calm our nerves a bit and release the accumulated tension. Even Dimitri and James allowed themselves a glass.

Closer to evening, having made sure that everyone understood everything and work was in full swing, I was finally able to return home. It's convenient, after all, to be the local "main dick" – dished out tasks to everyone and rode off into the sunset. But I had one more, very important and no less urgent task. Which could clarify a lot in the current situation.

I opened a portal and transported myself back to my laboratory in the pocket dimension. It was time to conduct a little interrogation of our horned friend.

In the middle of the main hall of my laboratory was my personal "sunshine" – a huge, slowly pulsating golden light crystal-accumulator. Inside it, in a cocoon of dense Light, floated the mutilated, barely alive body of Asmodeus. With a single effort of will, I extracted him from the accumulator and carelessly threw him onto a soft sofa.

The demon groaned quietly, slowly regaining consciousness. The regeneration of his body, suppressed by the concentrated Light inside the "sunshine," worked very slowly, but he was conscious.

"Hey, you horned bastard," I walked over and gave him a light, purely symbolic slap on the intact part of his face to liven him up. "Are you planning to sleep there for long? It's time for us to have a heart-to-heart talk."

"Argh… Bitch! Don't touch me!.." he rasped, struggling to open his only intact eye and focusing it on me, full of animalistic pain.

"Well, it's wonderful that you're awake," I sat down in a comfortable armchair opposite him, casually crossing my legs. "So, Asmodeus, I have a few very interesting questions for you. And I really hope you'll tell me everything nicely. Or will I have to… uh… stimulate you a bit?"

"Go… fuck yourself… upstart…" the demon retorted weakly, trying to move.

"Well, as you wish…" I sighed theatrically, and my right hand glowed with a bright white fire. I really didn't want to do this; torture isn't my method, but the information he possessed was too important now. I carefully, with my fingertips, touched the wound on his chest left by my spear.

"FUCK!!! OW! BITCH!!! DON'T TOUCH!!! AAAAAARRRRRGH!!!"

His body arched, an inhuman, heart-wrenching scream of agony erupting from all three of his mouths. Pure Light was burning away the Darkness itself and his demonic essence, causing him unbearable pain.

"Speak, scum," my voice was as cold as ice. "Or you'll die right here. Slowly and painfully. Choose."

"Fuck… hrr… I'll tell… bitch… I'll tell everything! Just… I beg you… stop!!!" Asmodeus rasped, choking on the black ooze that served as his blood.

I removed my hand. The golden flame on it died out. The demon breathed heavily, raggedly, his mutilated body twitching finely in convulsions.

"Speak. Who put that Darkness into you?"

"Eve… hrr… it was… Eve… bitch… you… you figured it out yourself! Kha-kha… Why ask, you bastard?!"

"Shut up and answer! Why the fuck were you and your succubus whores doing all that bullshit in the human world? Sowing debauchery, pushing drugs, driving people mad? On her orders?"

"Yes! It… it was part of the deal… An order… Her order! Kha… To help her… prepare the ground…"

"Why did you even make a contract with her? What did she promise you? What did she want to achieve?"

"And what… what else was I supposed to do?!" he almost shrieked, either from fear or a new wave of pain. "You… you just haven't seen her real power! Her true might! She… she promised to spare my life… if I helped her… weaken Heaven and prepare her invasion…"

"And you're telling me you were 'forced' into it? That you were just a poor, innocent lamb that 'evil Auntie Eve' coerced into cooperation?" I smirked skeptically. "Funny, do you really think I'll believe that?"

"Fuck… I don't give a shit anymore whether you believe me or not!" he glared at me maliciously with his only intact eye. "If you don't like it – kill me and fuck off already!"

I looked at him: broken, mutilated, half-dead, but still full of this impotent malice and fear. Kill him now? No. That would be too easy. Too merciful for such a creature. And the information he might still provide under more skillful and methodical interrogation could be truly priceless. I'm not good at this sort of thing at all; I prefer more direct methods. But some of my girls… especially the older ones… they surely have their own specific skills for "extracting the truth" from bastards like this.

"Fuck it, live for now," I said at last, rising from the armchair. "We'll see about your further behavior and willingness to cooperate. Maybe you'll even be useful as a source of information…"

I once again encased him in a cocoon of Light, this time – even denser, completely blocking all his remaining power. I created a small chamber of pure Light next to the "sunshine," powered directly by the accumulator, then moved his mortal remains there.

That's it. Definitely enough of this for today. I'll have to call Lute here later; let her properly interrogate our horned friend about all the details of his contract with Eve, her plans, strength, and possible whereabouts.

As for me… I'll get a bit more accustomed to my increased power. Restore my pocket dimension after the battle; it's a pity to lose such beauty. And then…

Then – Lucifer. Time to visit the "King of Hell" and rub his nose in the fact that he's fucked everything up again and Eve is about to make life "fun" for everyone. And force him to finally act, instead of playing with rubber duckies.

And also… Lilith. Right. Time to drag that bitch out of her vacation. No time for lazing around when such a universal clusterfuck is happening all around. She's a powerful "buffer," and for the army, she'll be simply indispensable, if I can convince her to side with us, of course…