Shadow of the Abyss

In the midst of the light, those of the Crimson Spear retreated into the shadows like men being persecuted. They hid behind the large stone pillar to escape the Sacred Flames of the Heavens that felt like acid upon the flesh. Of fear they might give themselves away, the two glanced at one another, coming to a sort of instinctual understanding, and left without sound.

Their actions had not gone unnoticed by Reina. She had been curious about their identity from the first time she saw them at the table. But held her tongue, sensing the unbelievable amount of bloodlust hidden beneath their bandages.

'They'd more blood beneath their belt than demons, 'she'd told herself then.

As the light grew all the more radiant, encompassing the realm and swallowing the skies with a blinding brilliance, they appeared upon the land. From the skies, they soared like Transcendent beings with their iridescent wings of gold, blazing like the flames of a phoenix. They hovered in all of golden, blistering a seraphic essence, masked by a wyvern-shaped helm and a golden sword and shield.

Reina felt her subconscious freeze, stirring with her inherent memories. She didn't need to be told what hovered above her was no manner of God or Deity. But the Guardsman of the Eternal Heavens.

The Seraphic Watchers, The Phylax

Constructs that were created after the tarnishing of the Grigori to watch after humanity alongside the Angels. They stood upon the world judging mortal men and gods alike, calling forth Tribulation for those that went against Heaven's Will. Untouched by the Seven Virtues and Seven Sins, they judged all beneath their All-Seeing-Eye, said to be able to peer into the souls of mortal minds.

A kindling of unease slithered down Reina's heart as she observed the hundred or so guardians descending one by one. They stood on one knee before a stunned Ariane. It had been clear she was ignorant towards their kind.

Ren made herself smile and began to explain their mythology to the young woman. A little worried for their future. The Seraphic Watchers were constructed with no sense of self, no sense of identity or understanding. They could only judge and obey.

It was why, more often than not, Demons and Devils feared them more than the Angels. Angels could be tricked and manipulated, but the constructs. They slaughtered without care for morals or politics. Though to her knowledge, Renia knew them only to be the eyes for the Heavens in calling forth Tribulation on cultivators. Rarely did they ever leave heaven.

Reina made a face, thinking, 'How will they react to Altair or Tasha? For that matter… Tasha is a Lilm. A Royal Devil. Her battle prowess, while not the highest, is real. Lilms were all born with a set base-level battle prowess and understanding of their magic. Then there is the matter of her maternity.'

Scowling, she sighed, bonking her head at the range of thoughts coming through her mind. Understandings of Heaven and Hell seemed to swelter through her soul, filling her with so much information she wanted to close her eyes to it all.

***

Within the library, Davos had quite a smile on his face, peering up at the Golden Watchers. He'd counted well over a hundred, unable to help but feel a tinge of excitement. It had not been the first time he'd faced one of the half-completed contraptions of the Fallen Azazel. But he could still remember the battle that had cost him an eye.

He could still recall that day that started his rise throughout the Myriad Heavens. On his two knees, broken and defeated, he lay there awaiting death before one of the Nine Kings of Hell, Asmodeus.

Such a vivid sight it had been in his mind. He chuckled, recalling how Asmodeus told him to relinquish his humanity, to be tarnished by the Nine Hells, to become a Devil unlike any other.

Davos laughed, ready to speak, when they appeared from the Heavens, cutting through one of his eyes with their blades. The wound had never healed properly, but their memory had been forever engrained in his mind.

"Looking back… they must have been scared when they learned Asmodeus wanted me to become a demon." He mused, reminiscent of the past.

Keres glanced at him with a bottle of wine in his hand. "You rejected becoming a devil?"

"Of course! Who said one needed to be a demon or devil to be powerful? I am the one above all. I'll not abandon what I am to become something I can be."

Keres heard the ancient pride in his voice and laughed aloud. "Well said! Well Said. Zariel said something similar."

Davos felt his eyes narrow, and his lips rose into a wicked smile," Zariel is the one who defeated my student. Aldrich had some of the best potential I've ever seen in all the Myriad Heavens."

Keres snickered. "What a battle that was. You should have seen it. Dead Laws mounted the Fourth Dimension, spreading so far they traveled the 33 Heavens. So powerful there blows Gods from above our realm had to descend. They'd die later to my master's hand when they tried to mount a surprise attack on him."

"But now the 33 Heavens are no more. Destroyed to bring forth this era," Thanatos mused, a cold sneer upon his lips. "Those bastards got what was coming to them."

Davos tightened his fist, looking towards the Constructs descending one by one. "I'll challenge this Zariel, and I'll challenge Beelzebub once more… and this time. I won't lose."

Keres, Thanatos, and the drunk Zagreus all looked toward the man, smiling. An undeniable trace of admiration on their lips.

***

Just outside the Palace, the Astral Lords all watched with marred expressions. They had all recognized the constructs. All once tasted their power on the rise to the peak. If the Hells had an unlimited number of Demons and Devils, the Heavens had the Watchers.

God Killers, they were often called.

Strava's expression was colder than ice. He'd only manage to get to the second circle with the leftover stragglers, and now… and now the price for another circle was not worth it.

'Should I cut it quits?' He wondered. The benefits of Beelzebub's Festival of Chaos were over. Combatting the Watchers, even if weakened Watchers, was not something he wanted to experience.

However, he also could not leave. Not without the Festival officially ending. The moment he passed those walls of Vesim, he'd relinquish all achievements he acquired. Stil…

As the memory of Altair appeared in his mind, he growled, tapping a finger over his folded arms.
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"But is it worth casting an Astral Domain? Simply to increase my Circle in a mortal realm?"

With a grimace, he turned his back to the castle, passing through the other Astral Lords, when one grabbed him by the wrist. He turned a face to the Lord that bore a king's demeanor like a shroud. He had long jet-black hair and frosted blue eyes that seemed silvery beneath the glow of radiance above.

Yet his was a face Strava did not recognize. He glanced down at the palm gripping his wrist, then up to the man. "Do you have a death wish?"

"Are you just going to run away?" A few of the Astral Lord's eyes snapped to Strava. "Are you afraid of the Watchers?"

Lightning tore itself from the skies in an ephemeral bolt of light lashing out at the Stranger. Forced to let go of Strava, he lepted back with a cynical smile.

"So you chose the path of Lightning, Eh?" he asked, studying the way the lighting bolt began to coil around Strava, entangling itself around his flesh like a layer of armor. "I thought you controlled space."

Strava pointed, and, in perhaps a moment of pure luck or skill, the Stranger had taken another step back as the aspect of Strava's barrier lashed at his palm, turning it into scorched dust, as lightning bore through every pore, every cell down to the electrons.

The Stranger did not hesitate to sever the arm off with a chop of his other hand, kicking back with enough force to shatter the ground, and he mounted a defense with his domain, his face visibly pale with dread and bloodloss.

"Don't touch me," Strava snapped, vanishing into a fleeting bolt.

The Soul Lord crackled a burst of wild laughter as the intent that echoed from his soul came down like an immutable mountain. Buildings turned to rubble and rubble in but a moment when a flash of light bore over the other Lords, startling a few of them as a name appeared in their mind.

The crest of the Crimson Spear bore itself above his head.

A few fell to a knee others backed away as they all gasped

"The Mark of Blasphemy!" a few hidden faces muttered in a transcendent roar of fear.

"The Mark of Murder"

"The Mark of Suffering!"

In a gale of uproar among the Soul Kings, one stepped forth, falling to a knee before the nameless king, and said, "I greet you, Defile One."

A look of shock overcame the Soul Kings as the sigil within the nameless king's eyes blazed ruby red flame.

"The Mark of Cain," They whispered in hushed tones.