The estate shook again, splitting wide along its outer walls. Fire spilled through the cracks — not the crimson-black hellfire native to their realm, but something stranger, violet and pale, eating stone as though it were ash.
Sirzechs caught Rias's gaze, his aura flaring like a scarlet star to hold the roof in place for a moment longer. "There's no time. Gather them. We're going down."
Rias held Koneko tighter, torn between questions and obedience. But there was no hesitation in her brother's eyes — only grim certainty.
"The lower catacombs," he continued, voice tight. "Older than the Underworld itself. Carved when our kind were still shadows and smoke. There are paths there… deeper ways. They may lead us beyond the reach of this unraveling."
Akeno's hand trembled as she steadied Gasper. "Beyond? You don't mean—"
"The Dimensional Gap," Sirzechs confirmed. His voice was steady, but the weight of it made the hall colder. "It is the only route left. If we linger here, this house will be nothing but dust."
The words sank in like ice. Even Grayfia, composed as ever, paled.
Rias swallowed, throat tight. "Brother… if the Gap itself is breaking—"
"Then we pray it hasn't broken completely."
With a single sweep of his hand, Sirzechs tore open a seal in the floor — a spiraling stairwell of black basalt, the air rising from it sharp and metallic, tasting of old blood and older secrets. The magic etched into its steps glowed faintly, neither devil-script nor angelic glyphs, but something more ancient.
The estate groaned again. Chandeliers fell. Servants screamed.
"Move!" Sirzechs ordered.
Rias gathered her peerage close: Akeno, Kiba, Gasper half-stumbling, Baraqiel falling in beside his daughter with wings half-spread, and Koneko limp in her arms. They followed, each step into the stairwell colder than the last, as if the world itself was warning them back.
The deeper they descended, the less stable the air felt. Time seemed to stutter — torches flickering forward and then rewinding, the echo of their footsteps looping twice. Baraqiel ranged a step ahead and to the flank, murmuring sharp Enochian wards that fizzled at the edges before the words could fully take.
Finally, the stairwell opened into a cavern vast as the heavens.
Rias gasped.
The "paths" Sirzechs had spoken of were not roads at all, but great rivers of light and shadow, flowing like veins through the darkness. Each one pulsed faintly, leading away into impossible horizons — some toward the mortal plane, others deeper into silence. At the center of it all was a void, a roiling scar of nothingness where the Dimensional Gap touched this place.
"The Old Ways," Grayfia whispered, her voice hushed with awe. "I thought they were sealed forever…"
"They were," Sirzechs said grimly. "By those who feared what might crawl back through them."
A sudden pulse rippled through the cavern — like a heartbeat from the void. Rias staggered, clutching Koneko close, as her sister's limp body twitched faintly at the resonance.
"Hespera…" Koneko whispered in her sleep again, voice so faint it barely carried.
Rias cursed.
Sirzechs's eyes hardened. He motioned them all toward the central path. "No questions. Not now. Keep moving."
As they stepped forward, the void flared, and for an instant — just an instant — Rias swore she saw it.
A silhouette in the storm beyond.
Twenty-four shifting wings.
Eyes that rewrote the sky.
And a smile.
The smile of the thing her brother dared not name.
The path beneath their feet was not stone.
It was memory.
Each step sent ripples across the black surface, as though they were walking upon the reflection of a lake. But beneath that reflection there were things—shadows twitching, outlines of beings that had never been born and never would be.
Baraqiel's feathers bristled. His voice dropped to a soldier's growl. "Keep your eyes forward. Don't let it pull you under."
"It's real enough to carry us," Sirzechs said, voice low, steady. "Don't look down too long."
They walked anyway, because they had no choice. The cavern narrowed into a vein of twilight that bled into open void. The air tasted of ozone and ash, each breath harder than the last.
Then the first scream came.
A sound like burning parchment, like thousands of prayers ripped apart at once. Above them, a figure plummeted from the fractured sky—a lesser god of flame, its body shedding sparks as wings of fire collapsed into ash. It tried to speak, to beg, to exist—and then its outline dissolved mid-fall, scattering into pale threads that hissed out in silence.
Gasper whimpered, clinging to Akeno's robes. "They're… dying. They're all dying."
And they were. More followed—wisps of light, armored silhouettes, winged shadows—divine remnants tumbling from the higher planes, unmade before they could even strike the surface of the Gap. The river of paths shook with each fall, forcing the Gremorys to keep balance.
"They're unraveling," Grayfia murmured, her usual composure faltering. "Not slain. Not banished. Unwritten."
"Pandora," Sirzechs said grimly. "This is her doing."
Further ahead, the path forked. One branch led toward a lightless abyss, another toward a horizon warped with floating ruins—broken temples, shattered thrones, statues of gods with faces cracked clean away.
Rias felt her throat tighten. "What… what happened here?"
Sirzechs didn't answer.
But as they passed one of the ruins, they saw something move.
From the husk of a collapsed temple crawled a creature, once divine, now hollow. Its skin flickered between stone and shadow, its eyes glowing with the last fragments of stolen prayers. It opened its mouth—and no voice came, only silence that burned.
Kiba was the first to react, summoning a sword of light to guard their flank. The blade's glow wavered, dimmer than usual, as if even his weapon feared to exist here.
The hollow god staggered toward them, reaching with hands that warped into claws.
Before anyone else could strike, Sirzechs extended a hand. His aura erupted like scarlet fire, disintegrating the creature instantly. It left behind no corpse, no ash—just a ripple in the path, like a pebble tossed into water.
He turned to the others, his eyes hard. "Stay close. Do not engage. These are remnants, broken things clinging to what's left. If they touch you, you'll be dragged down."
They obeyed, moving faster now. The void grew louder, like the roar of a storm waiting just beyond the next horizon.
Koneko stirred again in Rias's arms, her lashes fluttering. Her lips moved, and though her voice was faint, the word was clear enough:
"…Nee-sama… Hespera…"
The moment she spoke the name, the path shivered. A tremor echoed outward, and for an instant, Rias felt something vast brush against her thoughts. A gaze. A will.
She staggered, clutching Koneko tighter.
Akeno grabbed her shoulder. "Rias!"
"I-I'm fine," Rias lied, though her heart thundered.
Sirzechs glanced back at them, frowning. But before he could speak, the horizon split apart.
The veil of shadow peeled back, revealing distance made meaningless—an impossible battlefield stretching across planes.
And in the distance, they saw it.
A silhouette crowned in twenty-four shifting wings.
The Primordials arrayed before it, their powers straining against the tide.
And the storm of annihilation that shook the Gap with every clash.
The Gremorys froze.
For the first time in their lives, they understood what it meant to be small.
They stood at the edge of the path, breath caught in their throats.
The battlefield beyond wasn't measured in land or sky — it was everything. The Dimensional Gap stretched open like a wound, bleeding light and shadow in spirals that made no sense, folding over themselves in endless horizons. At its center hung two forces: Pandora, crowned in twenty-four serrated wings, and the four Primordials, their presences like pillars holding back oblivion.
The clash hadn't yet struck their senses, but its pressure did. The mere act of looking bent their thoughts, pressed against their souls.
Baraqiel's wings flared, a thin corona of lightning crawling the pinions before sputtering out. "Hold fast," he said through his teeth. "Do not falter."
"No," Rias whispered, her voice shaking in spite of herself. "This is real."
She had faced Phenex flames, rival houses, stray gods who sought to meddle in the Underworld. None of it had prepared her for this. This wasn't war. It wasn't even battle. It was… inevitability, clashing against inevitability.
Kiba's jaw tightened as he sheathed his blade, eyes wide with something dangerously close to fear. "How are we supposed to survive even seeing this?"
Gasper had collapsed to his knees, hands over his ears, rocking back and forth. "Too loud. Too loud. Too loud. The silence is too loud…"
Akeno gritted her teeth and knelt to steady him, her own aura sparking wildly, trying and failing to stabilize. "Gasper. Look at me. Just me. Don't listen to anything else."
Sirzechs had not moved. He stood with arms folded, crimson aura flaring faintly, his expression carved from stone. Only his eyes betrayed him — a deep, grim weight that Rias had never seen in him before.
"Brother," Rias whispered. "What… what are they?"
He didn't look at her, his gaze locked on Pandora's shifting form. "The oldest truths. The laws that predate our kind. What you see there is not for us, Rias. Not for devils. Not for angels. It is… beyond."
A tremor ran through the path beneath them. Koneko stirred weakly in Rias's arms, her voice slurred, broken.
"…Nee-sama…"
Rias's heart twisted. "Koneko, please. Stay with me—"
But Koneko's next word was not for her.
"…Hespera…"
The name rang through the Gap like a chime. The air shuddered, the rivers of shadow flickering in response. And for just a heartbeat, Pandora's trinary gaze shifted — not at the Primordials, not at the void. But toward them.
Rias froze, breath cut short.
Those eyes. Those impossible eyes saw them. Not as people. Not even as insects. As… threads. Strings on a loom she could pluck and unravel at will.
Sirzechs stepped forward instantly, his aura erupting to shield them. "Back. All of you. Do not draw her notice again."
The group huddled closer, none daring to speak.
And still the clash hadn't begun — the storm was only gathering.
The path behind them rippled again.
For a heartbeat, Rias thought it was another collapse — another horror clawing its way through. But then she heard the voices, familiar, strained, but alive.
"Rias!"
She turned just as her father emerged from the wavering stairwell. Zeoticus Gremory, cloak torn and face pale with exertion, guided a stumbling Millicas by the hand. Venelana followed close behind, her beauty dimmed only by the exhaustion lining her features. Grayfia was last, her usual poise fractured by battle-weariness, but her eyes sharp and alert, scanning the path before fixing on Rias.
Relief hit Rias so hard she nearly fell to her knees. "Father… Mother… Millicas… Grayfia…"
Millicas rushed forward and clung to her, burying his face against her gown. "Sis! I-I thought you were gone!" His voice shook, unsteady and terrified in a way she had never heard from him.
Venelana pulled both children into her arms, pressing her lips to Rias's hair. "We barely made it out. The Bael estates… gone. The rivers are turning to ash. If not for your brother…" She trailed off, her eyes flicking toward Sirzechs, whose aura still burned like a barrier between them and the abyss.
Zeoticus's gaze, however, was locked outward. He had always been a man of diplomacy, of pride, not battle. And yet here, seeing the impossible forces arrayed across the Gap, his face carried only grim understanding. "So this is it," he murmured. "The gods themselves undone. I had prayed the rumors were exaggerations…"
"They were merciful," Sirzechs said flatly. "This is far worse."
Grayfia knelt beside Rias, her hands brushing across Koneko's pale face, checking her pulse, her aura, the flickering lines of power unraveling and knitting themselves again. Her expression remained composed, but her voice softened. "She is bound to something greater. Something that does not belong to her bloodline. Whatever she whispers… it is truth."
Koneko stirred weakly at her touch, breath fogging faintly in the unnatural air. "…Hespera…"
The name struck again, like a bell tolling across the Gap. This time, the ripple of it knocked several of them off their feet, the path vibrating under their weight.
Venelana's eyes swept across them all, softening at the sight of her daughter and grandson together. But then her gaze caught on the horizon — on the twenty-four-winged figure staring across the battlefield — and her lips parted. "...So it's true. It really is her."
Koneko stirred weakly in Rias's arms, whispering again, "…Nee-sama… Hespera…"
The name cracked through the Gap like a tolling bell, but this time, no one asked what it meant. They already knew.
Rias groaned aloud, dragging a hand down her face despite the terror prickling every nerve. "Of course it's her. Who else would it be?"
Zeoticus's jaw tightened. "Hespera Eveningstar. The so-called Silence."
Grayfia's eyes narrowed faintly. "The one who humiliated the Phenex heir, and half a dozen more besides… while making it look effortless."
"She also humiliated us," Rias muttered, cheeks heating despite herself. "I still haven't forgotten the way she teased my peerage. 'Little red queen,' she called me."
Akeno gave a shaky laugh, even here. "I rather enjoyed that nickname. She made it sound… affectionate."
"She called me kitten," Koneko murmured in her faint, half-conscious voice. "...just like Nee-sama did…"
The air grew heavier, Pandora's impossible gaze turning toward them. Every heartbeat seemed to slow.
Millicas shivered, hiding his face against Rias. "But… she always laughed with us. She was kind. Why does she look… like that now?"
Rias bit her lip hard enough to taste blood. "Because something happened. Because… mercy's gone."
Sirzechs spread his aura wide, shielding them all, his voice harsh and absolute. "Listen well. That woman was once our ally, yes. But what you see now is not Hespera. Not the one who teased you, who helped you. This… is Pandora."
Venelana pulled Millicas close, her expression unreadable. "And if Pandora carries her face… then we may never get her back."
For a moment, silence fell between them, heavier than the void around them.
And still, the clash had not yet begun. The Primordials stood ready. Pandora's wings flared.
The inevitability gathered.
The path quaked again — not from Pandora's wings this time, but from behind them.
A second ripple tore through the Gap, followed by the grinding sound of collapsing wards. The air thickened, colder, sharper, and Rias's stomach dropped even before the figures appeared.
Out of the shimmer of fractured void stepped two beings the Gremory family recognized instantly, though few had ever dared to meet them directly.
Ophis — the Infinite Dragon God — silent, her form flickering faintly from wounds not yet healed. A smear of blood still stained her chin, though her eyes burned with the calm of an endless void.
And beside her, walking with the quiet dignity of night itself, was Nyx. Her black hair moved like smoke across her shoulders, her robes tattered but her poise intact. The aura of night clung to her like a second skin, deep and vast enough that the Gap itself seemed to bend politely around her.
Rias staggered a step back. "O-Ophis… and… Nyx."
Gasper whimpered, clutching Akeno's robes. Even Sirzechs drew himself straighter, crimson aura tightening, as though he knew even his power here was fragile against theirs.
But Nyx didn't spare him a glance. Her eyes went straight to the battlefield, then down to Koneko trembling in Rias's arms. Her jaw clenched.
"She feels it," Nyx said quietly, her voice like velvet cut on glass. "Of course she does. Hespera's grief is carved through every bond she touched."
"Don't say her name," Sirzechs snapped, though his voice was softer than he meant. "Not here. Not when she can hear it."
Ophis tilted her head toward him, her gaze unreadable. "She already knows."
The Gremorys fell silent.
Nyx stepped forward, her expression caught between longing and fury as her eyes fixed on the distant figure crowned in wings. "...Hespera…" The name was a whisper, but heavy enough to make the path tremble. "My star. You burn yourself away again."
Venelana's eyes widened. "You… cared for her."
Nyx's lips twitched faintly, neither a smile nor denial. "Care. Present tense."
Even Ophis's gaze lingered a fraction longer than usual on Nyx, as if silently acknowledging what the Night goddess wouldn't fully say aloud.
Rias groaned, rubbing her forehead. "Great. As if she didn't tease us enough when she was herself, now we have her lover here too. This day just keeps getting worse."
Akeno let out a nervous laugh that cracked halfway. "You mean to say even goddesses fall for her charms. I feel a little less embarrassed now."
Zeoticus cleared his throat, his usual statesmanly composure failing him for once. "Then… if you both are here… does that mean you came from—?"
Nyx nodded, her eyes hard. "The Eveningstar estate. It was the first place she returned to when the storm broke. It no longer exists."
Ophis wiped the last trace of blood from her lips with the back of her hand, speaking in her flat, calm tone. "The gods thought they could end me there. They failed. But they bought her time. Enough to lose herself."
The words hung heavy. Even Sirzechs faltered, his aura dimming slightly at the weight of them.
Grayfia broke the silence, her voice steady though her hands clenched tightly at her side. "Then what we see ahead is truly her… unbound."
Nyx's gaze softened for just a moment, her eyes following the distant figure as twenty-four wings flared wide. Her voice, low but certain, carried to them all:
"No. That is not all of her. Not yet. Hespera is still inside. Which means… she can still be reached."
For a fleeting moment, hope flickered among the devils.
Until Pandora's gaze shifted again — those trinary eyes falling directly upon their path.
The hope froze in their throats.