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CHAPTER 129Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdtsKQcxLNg
29Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡX2bhjDoaBG
"An angel has been banished from Heaven."
The words slither through the smoldering air, coiling around the silence like a serpent preparing to strike.
I do not react immediately. Instead, I remain seated on my throne, one hand resting against my jaw, the other lazily drumming against the polished bone armrest. The vast chamber around me hums with infernal energy, the walls alive with shifting shadows, the torches burning with an eerie, hungry glow. Through the towering arched windows, Hell stretches endlessly before me—a kingdom of suffering, carved from fire and ruin.
The rivers of lava twist like veins through the blackened stone, illuminating the jagged cliffs in their fiery embrace. High above, the sky churns in endless shades of red, thick clouds rolling like a brewing storm, never still, never silent.
Claud stands before me, head bowed low, his form rigid with the kind of obedience that comes not from loyalty, but fear. I can hear the rapid beat of his pulse, the controlled steadiness of his breath, the way his fingers twitch slightly at his side. He does not look at me. He dares not.
"What?" I finally ask, my voice smooth as silk, yet laced with something darker. "When?"
"Last night, sire," Claud answers quickly, eyes still fixed on the obsidian floor.29Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvYAp8fnaA4
I roll my shoulders slightly, stretching out my wings—massive, leathery things, dark as the abyss itself. They shift with a faint rustling sound, the light from the molten cracks in the floor catching along the nearly translucent veins beneath their surface.
"Did you trace their whereabouts?" I ask, though I already know the answer.
Claud hesitates, just for a breath of a second, before responding. "No, sire. Their presence is… elusive. We suspect their fall is still too fresh, leaving them tethered to Heaven’s influence."
A low hum of amusement escapes me. Elusive? That’s new.29Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡV4Spc1YLy3
Most fallen angels leave a trail, an unmistakable rip through the spiritual plane as they descend. But not this one. If they are beyond my immediate reach, then either they are shielding themselves exceptionally well… or God is still holding onto them, however slightly.
I lean forward, resting my chin on my fingers. The very air around me shifts in response, a heavy weight pressing against the room. The flames in the torches lining the walls surge higher, their glow flickering hungrily toward me before settling into a steady, obedient blaze.
"I see," I murmur.
Claud shifts on his feet, sensing his dismissal, and turns toward the massive chamber doors.
But as his hand reaches for the handle, my voice cuts through the silence once more.
"Claud."
He stiffens instantly. "Yes, sire?"
I exhale slowly, tilting my head, contemplating. It has been a long time since I have walked freely in the mortal world. My true form is not meant for that place—not without… modifications.
The decision is effortless.
I rise from my throne, rolling my wrists as I step forward. The moment I move, the chamber trembles—not from the weight of my steps, but from the shift of something greater.
The weight of Hell fades as I step forward, its oppressive heat peeling away from my skin like dying embers. The transformation is effortless. It always is. I do not change—I refine, reshape, adjust.
My wings retract, dissolving into shadows that slither beneath my skin, leaving only the memory of what I once was. The burning glow in my veins dims, smothered beneath flesh that is warmer now, more human. Not pale, not too dark—just enough color to blend, to pass.
And then there are my eyes.
They darken, the glow vanishing until there is nothing but black—not the simple absence of light, but the presence of something far deeper. They do not just see. They unravel. They consume. There is power in them still, buried beneath the illusion of civility, hidden behind the carefully crafted façade of something less… threatening.
My hair settles into place, black as the abyss itself, falling with effortless precision. Every strand behaves. My features shift, sharpening into the elegant, unforgiving symmetry that I was crafted with—a sharp nose, a strong jaw, lips that know how to curve just enough to intrigue but never reveal. A face that unsettles and draws in, all at once.
The infernal armor I once wore melts away, replaced by something more suited for the world above. A well-tailored black coat, settling against my shoulders like it belongs there. A crisp dark shirt beneath, the top button undone, just enough to speak of ease rather than arrogance. I roll my wrists, fixing the cuffs with slow, deliberate precision, then smooth down the front of my coat. It fits perfectly.
By the time Claud turns back to me, the transformation is complete. He stares—not in admiration, but unease. They always do. Because no matter how human I may look, they know the truth.
"Tell the demons to hold off," I say, my voice smooth, unrushed. "I’ll handle it myself."
Claud bows his head. "Yes, sire."
I watch him disappear through the towering doors, leaving me alone in the quiet hum of my kingdom.
The stillness presses against my senses, but I do not mind it. If anything, it is welcoming.
I exhale, tilting my head toward the unseen heavens above, where He watches, always watches.
Another angel has fallen.
Why?
Has someone committed a sin greater than mine? Or is this something far more deliberate?
A game, perhaps?
A new piece on the board?
A low chuckle escapes me, dark and knowing.
Fine. I will play along.
I step forward, and with a mere thought, the chamber dissolves around me. The weight of Hell fades from my shoulders, replaced by the sharp, crisp bite of the mortal world.
It is time to meet our little exile.
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