The ocean boiled above the trench. Fish fled in silvery blurs, their instincts rebelling against what now stirred in the ancient rift.
Within the Depth-Forge, a ring of bioluminescent runes flared as molten metal flowed like blood through coral-carved canals.
Zariel stood bare-chested at the center, runes crawling across his skin like parasites. His demon half seethed with power; his Djinn side pulsed with restraint.
He raised his hand.
The weapon forming in the air—a jagged, blackened trident of star-metal—shuddered as if alive.
A demon scout appeared in the corner of the chamber, bowing with urgency.
"My lord... news from the surface. The Equal of Heaven has slain the Crackin."
Zariel's jaw twitched. The sea around the forge darkened.
"So he still lives," Zariel muttered.
He walked to the edge of the forge, gazing into the boiling abyss.
"Then I will rip that title from him myself."
He turned to the scout.
"Send word to the Cadre. Tell them I want no more beasts. I will deal with Ramiel myself."
"And Thal'zaron, my lord?"
Zariel smirked, fire flickering in his pupils.
"He gave me soldiers. Soon, he'll give me an army if need be. For now, we'll reside in his kingdom."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * *
The old metro tunnel groaned under the weight of rainwater dripping through cracks above. Ramiel stood still beneath a flickering light, arms folded, his shadow stretching like a quiet threat. Alec paced nearby, restless, still gripping the dagger that had ended the Crackin.
Footsteps echoed down the tunnel.
Two figures emerged from the darkness—one limping, the other dragging a long trench coat through the mud as if he'd just walked off a movie set.
The girl couldn't have been more than fifteen. Pale, wild-eyed, and determined. The man beside her—mid-twenties, unshaven, sarcastic aura practically leaking off him—had a grin that didn't match the tension in the air.
"I told you he'd be broody," Tobias Finch said, pointing at Ramiel like he was introducing a celebrity. "Very 'I've walked through fire and don't moisturize' energy."
Alec raised a brow.
Ramiel's eyes flicked from the girl to Tobias, then back. "Names."
"Selene," she said quickly. "From Mythos University. It was attacked. Everyone... most of them are dead. I think it was orchestrated by Hell"
"What do you know about Hell, Mundane?"
"Enough to know it's real"
Ramiel's gaze narrowed. "And him?"
"Tobias Finch," the man said, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. "Sorcerer in training, disappointment by birth. I found her hiding in a supply closet with a crossbow and an attitude problem."
Selene stepped forward, ignoring the joke. "A professor told me to find you before he died. Said the Equal of Heaven would know what to do."
Ramiel didn't answer.
She pulled up her sleeve, revealing the faint blood-red rune marked on her wrist.
Ramiel stepped closer. Studied it. His jaw tensed slightly.
"You were touched by something ancient," he said.
"Good ancient or bad ancient?" Tobias asked.
Ramiel's silence stretched for a beat too long.
"She's coming with us?" Alec said quietly.
Tobias blinked. "We are?"
Ramiel glanced back at the boy. Alec didn't flinch.
Then he looked at Selene again, nodded once, and turned toward the exit.
Tobias threw up his hands. "Right. Team world-ending trauma just keeps growing. Do we get jackets or..."
Alec smirked.
Selene just followed silently, her eyes locked on Ramiel's back like she'd finally found something solid in the storm.