"If Heaven denies our love... then let Hell defend it."
— Aether
The Lightroots ended not in peace, but at the edge of a yawning rift — the Abyss Gate, a sealed entrance to the deepest level of Hell, locked by seven celestial chains.
Aira gasped. "This… isn't the sanctuary."
Aether looked ahead. "No. But it's where they won't follow."
From the shadows emerged a familiar figure — a tall demon with raven-black wings and crimson robes that shimmered like blood.
Beelzebubb, Demon of Gluttony.
Aether's contract partner.
"You have returned, child of rage. And you brought her back."
Aether clenched his fists. "I need sanctuary. Not war. Not chaos."
Beelzebubb smiled. "You ask sanctuary from Hell. That is war. That is chaos."
Summoned by Beelzebubb's call, the Seven Demon Lords gathered in the Black Citadel of N'zar.
Asmodiel, Lord of Lust – draped in veils, her voice like honey and knives.
Belphegor, Lord of Sloth – half-asleep, floating on a broken throne.
Mammon, Lord of Greed – golden-eyed, always counting.
Leviathan, Lord of Envy – scales glistening like oceans.
Samael, Lord of Wrath – burning, scarred, twitching with fury.
Lucifera, Lord of Pride – divine beauty, eyes sharper than blades.
Beelzebubb, Lord of Gluttony – watching it all like a chessboard.
"Why call us, Glutton?" Lucifera asked coldly.
"Because Heaven has erred," Beelzebubb replied. "And because he—" (pointing to Aether) "—might be our salvation."
Aether stood tall.
"I want protection. For her. For myself. In exchange, I offer alliance. Temporary. No chains."
The room laughed.
Asmodiel purred, "And why would Hell protect love? We devour such things."
Beelzebubb raised his hand.
"Because this love broke time. And because Heaven fears him more than they hate us."
The table fell silent.
Lucifera finally spoke, her gaze piercing Aether.
"You shall receive Hell's protection. A sanctuary where neither angel nor god shall tread."
"But the price—"
"You will wear the mantle of Demon King. Temporarily. Until Heaven falls or retreats."
Aether's fists clenched. "And if I refuse?"
Samael snarled, "Then you die now. Or worse — she dies again."
Aira stepped forward, to everyone's surprise.
"Then he accepts. And so do I."
"Aira—"
"I gave my soul once. I won't lose you again."
The Pact was sealed — a black crown forming in Aether's hand, burning like dark fire.
[System Notification: Title Acquired – Demon King of the Abyss (Temporary)]
[Effect: +250% Sin Resistance, +150% Authority Over Hellspawn, Access to Abyssal Fortress: V'rein]
Aether sat upon the black obsidian throne, Aira by his side.
Demons knelt. Forces rallied. Whispers echoed.
"The human who defied gods…"
"...now wears our crown…"
"...He will shatter the heavens or burn with us…"
Aira leaned close, her hand in his.
"How does it feel?"
"Wrong," Aether muttered. "But right if you're beside me."
She smiled. "Then we rule until they beg for peace."
High above, the Divine Trinity gathered again.
"He has chosen Hell," Seraphiel spat.
"He seeks protection. And now commands a kingdom," Ishkara whispered.
Zariel sighed.
"So be it. Then let this mortal wear the Devil's crown."
He raised his gavel.
"Prepare the Holy Judgement. Heaven marches."