Author's Note

This chapter includes some harsh blasphemous content. I warned you.

Proper Judgement

Satan strolls through his citadel, observing the paintings of his lineage decorating the walls. Each Satan before him was unique in their own way—in appearance and personality—but always ruled with fierce authority and an iron fist. Their wrath and malice is palpable, even through the inanimate portraits, as if they could leap out and start wreaking havoc at any given moment. The Devil smirks at each of his predecessors until standing still at the latest addition.

Though each of the Crowns of Wrath before had consorts and offspring, they always had paintings taken of themselves and them alone. Even before the current Crown fell for Lutfana, he had stood alone for his portrait, not even allowing so much as a hair of his previous wife or his remaining offspring into the frame.

In this one particular painting, he stands with more than just himself and a proud grin. Lutfana, Lavey, and all of his other sons and daughters are gathered together for a family portrait. It was almost agonizing, having to hurt his haunches by sitting still for what felt like hours, smiling until his cheeks hurt, and having his shoulders ache from his kids resting on them, but it was worth all of it if it meant spending time with his family.

He gently places his mechanical hand on the linen canvas, running his steel digits across the gorgeous angel's face. He can almost feel her velvety skin through his cold, metal claws, and her ambience is still tangible. Though she's not really here, Satan impulsively opens his mouth and begins to speak to his beloved once more.

"Lavey has grown so much in such little time, my dear," he whispers. "Beelzebub has told me of what he's been doing in his new home in Equus. The boy's acting more and more like a leader; he's wise in his actions and has a compassionate heart. Loyal, loving friends surround him and, oh..." the Crown chuckles a bit before continuing on with spilling some juicy information, "...it turns out he's found a loving companion in his new home."

Realization slowly creeps up on the Crown, reminding him of what he's talking to. He blinks a few time as his mind regains focus and he looks upon the inanimate object. Slowly, the joyful atmosphere is drowned in sorrow once again.

"I wish you could see him now, my dear," he tremblingly laments.

Rapid footsteps echo down the hall, prompting the Crown to move his hand away from his wife's image. Though it's normal to weep for a lost love, he'd rather not have any of his children or subordinates see him lose his powerful composure. An imp turns the corner and approaches the Devil with a scroll in hand. The little goblin-like creature kneels before the king before handing the message into his claws.

"Thank you," the Crown says, trying his best to hide his slowly receding sorrow. "You may go."

The imp bows and scurries away to tend to whatever duties it has around the citadel. Satan looks down at the scroll in his hand and notices the seal of Lucifer in red wax imprinted on the roll, causing him to furrow his brows. A message from the Emperor can only mean business and that something significant has taken place that could affect Hell and its realms.

Tearing it open, Satan reads the contents within.

CONFIDENTIAL
To Satan V, current Crown of Wrath, the Dragon,
URGENT: Requesting the presence of all demons of high-ranking nobility and royalty to meet at Pandemonium to be a part of the Stygian Council. The situation is of utmost importance and requires the attention of all authorized personnel who receive this message. Share this information with no one.
Regards,
Lucifer I, current Crown of Pride, Emperor of Hell

After reading the contents, the scroll spontaneously combusts in Satan's hands but, oddly, it doesn't burn him. It releases no stench of smoke, no feeling of heat, or any pain as it turns to ash and is sieved through the Crown's claws. The black dust is sorcerously whisked by an intangible gust of wind and forms a large circle before the Crown, soon forming a pearly-white portal.

Satan takes a deep breath and exhales, removing any evidence of stress and sorrow, before entering the ethereal gateway and appearing within a spacious rotunda with an open ceiling revealing the blood-red sky of the Inferno.

Lining the room are rows upon rows of seats for demons of the upper and mid-ranks. Seventy-two seats for the seventy-two spirits of the Ars Goetia, six for the Great Commanders, and hundreds of thousands more for the higher and lower nobles.

Satan stands within a black hemisphere where the thrones for each of the Crowns reside. All of them are unique in style for the preferences of each of the rulers. In the center, Lucifer’s alabaster marble throne sits a few inches above the rest, while Satan’s and Beelzebub’s, both of which are on either side of the Emperor’s, sit higher than the other Crowns' but dare not exceed Lucifer’s.

As demons start flooding in, taking their rightful spots in the rotunda, Satan marches over to his throne—an obsidian seat with ruby veins and symbols woven in to it—and takes his place at the left-hand of the Emperor. He runs his organic hand over the arm rest, feeling deep gashes caused by his and his predecessors’ fits of rage. How far has he come from being a wrathful king, who lashed out at even his own kin?

"Satan, my friend," a gurgled voice calls out. The Devil looks past Lucifer’s throne to see Beelzebub climbing into his seat at the right-hand of the Emperor. "Any idea as to the reason for this summoning?"

"Not in the slightest, old friend," Satan responds with confusion. "I had assumed Lucifer had informed you already, since you are his second-in-command. It must be dire if he refused to impart any information of this to no one until now."

The roar of a dragon catches the two Crowns' attention, prompting them to crane their necks to the blood-red sky. Hell's sun has suddenly been blotted out by a massive, blue dragon. The creature in the sky whips around and dives through the opening in the roof, shrinking in size until landing gracefully on an azurite and gold throne next to Satan in a bipedal form.

This demon is indeed female, though she doesn’t have any distinguishing features such as hair or a bodacious bosom. She has the head of a dragon with frills along her neck and horns protruding from the back of her temple and from her chin. Her eyes gleam green and have a piercing gaze to them as she glances at the Crown of Wrath with a toothy grin.

A blue and green robe adorns her slender figure. A gold necklace is hung around her neck with a pendant in the shape of sulfur's alchemical symbol hanging from it.

"Greetings, Satan," the demoness hisses. "Say, do you still want to go with my offer on—"

"I suggest you shut your mouth before I flog you and reach into your gullet to rip out your entrails," the Devil growls. "Again, Leviathan, he is my son and no one in Heaven above or Hell below may have him."

The Crown of Envy raises her hands in defense and chuckles casually while Satan simmers with rage. He grips his arm rests, threatening to shatter them, but takes a deep, calm breath and releases his bubbling wrath. As much as he wants to pummel the demoness into a bloody pulp, he shan't break his promise to his beloved, and refrains from laying so much as a claw on her.

Asmodeus, followed by a bipedal wolf-like demon adorned in a green and yellow robe, enter the rotunda and take their seats next to Beelzebub. The wolf demon wears a crown of gold atop his head with a sigil—an inverted pentagram with an infinity symbol in the center—branded on it. His body and apparel are heavily embellished with gleaming gold, silver, and precious stones.

To Satan's left, another Crown enters, this one with the appearance of a fat, elderly man or troll. He has a snow-white beard and two horns protruding from the sides of his temple like branches.

All he wears is a kilt comprised of the skins of various beasts of the Inferno. It looks like something out of a horror flick but it doesn't unnerve anyone in the slightest.

"Shatan, Beelshebub," the troll demon hisses, "what ish reashon for shummon?"

"I am afraid Lucifer has not divulged this information with either of us, Belphegor," the Lord of the Flies responds. "We are in the same boat as everyone else here."

"It is obviously something old Lucy didn't vant any of ze lower ranking demons and commoners to find out about," the wolf demon says. "Vat do you suppose it is?"

"We must simply wait and see, Mammon," Satan replies. "It's most likely that if word of whatever we are about to discuss here were to reach the public, it would create an uproar amongst our kingdoms and perhaps the entire Inferno."

Suddenly, a powerful presence manifests in the massive edifice, silencing every demon and pulls them up to their feet. All heads turn to a large doorframe where the overpowering presence is coming from. Satan can feel his very soul tremble as the omnipotent being makes their way into the presence of the other demons. It's a strange mixture of demonic and angelic power, not similar to Lavey's and not as potent, but still frighteningly powerful.

A beautiful figure enters the throng of demons and everyone kneels before him out of fearful instinct. His skin is as smooth as silk and shines like the morning star. His golden hair drapes over his shoulders and flows like an endless stream. His eyes are piercing blue sapphires that instill a sense of fear and obedience into every living thing that may come across his gaze. Six tattered crow wings sprout from his back and a shattered halo rests over his head—tarnished remains of his days of glory. Small, black nubs are on his forehead and a slender, black tail winds around his legs.

His garments are unlike most of what the other Crowns or other royals wear—tunics, robes, kilts, or just simply walking in the buff. The fallen angel wears a white, three piece suit that defines his pride and vainglorious nature. Although his image is tarnished, his apparel is immaculate as always.

The mighty fallen angel takes his seat on his pristine, marble throne above the other Crowns. Raising his hand, he silently commands the demons to rise, and they obey.

"Let this meeting of the Stygian Council commence," Lucifer proclaims with powerful authority.

As everyone gets back into their seats, no one bothers to speak up. At first everyone wanted to know the secret behind this meeting and the reason it had to remain so confidential, yet no one bothers to open their lips and ask. Speaking out of turn before the Emperor of Hell has its repercussions and it's not simply limited to the commoners. Even royalty, no matter how close they may be to Lucifer, will be reprimanded severely in front of everyone.

Luckily, the Morning Star decides to indulge his fearful, anticipative people.

"I am sure you are all wondering the reason I have summoned you all here, and I shall explain everything." He takes a short pause, judging the expressions of everyone's curious faces before spilling the truth. "The Beast was reawakened once again.”

A wave of concerned murmurs spread throughout the rotunda. Satan looks around at the throngs of demons seated around the dome, noticing their fearful faces. Atrum had already informed the Devil of his trip to Equus to aid Lavey with vanquishing the tyrannical titan and how the monster was taken by the Cherubim to be judged before God.

A proud smirk spreads across Satan’s face as he recounts what Atrum had told him, regarding just how Lavey managed to vanquish the monster. Hearing about his son awakening his angelic power after so many years relying on his demonic might causes his heart to soar with pride.

However, the quote the Beast had left for them still runs through his mind, unsolved. Satan had read that quote in a book or something, but where and what was it from...?

The Devil slams his fist on his armrest, causing the demons to cease their chatter immediately. All eyes look to Lucifer for an explanation.

"I had received word from Rikibiel and Ophaniel about the Beast," the Emperor says. "Our creation was released in Equus but they claimed that Prince Lavey, along with Prince Atrum, had managed to vanquish him."

Another wave of chatter begins again, this time in awe and surprise; Lucifer holds up his hand, immediately silencing the congregation.

"Yes. Lavey had successfully vanquished the Beast by managing to draw out the power granted to him through his mother, Lady Lutfana," Lucifer continues. "Unfortunately, before he could administer a finishing blow, the two Cherubim intervened, deeming the monster deserves judgement under God's watch.

"It would seem that my Father is meddling in our affairs once again. I have called the Council together to come up with an plan in ceasing His ridiculous plans for the monster to be subjected to Heaven's judgement. By the time they get to the actual trial, the Beast may once again be summoned by another ignorant mortal or demon wishing for his release. We must administer swift judgement and eradicate him from existence while we still have the chance."

Everyone begins to chatter once again, completely disregarding any incoming reprimand from Lucifer. However, the Emperor sits back and allows the horde to converse their ideas for the situation.

“Mein Führer, if I may,” Mammon speaks up. “Vile I do believe ve should take ze Beast and deal viz him according to Hell’s laws, is it vise to subject him to ze carnal energy of Hell?”

"He has been weakened significantly thanks to Lavey and the...I suppose you could say 'noxious' atmosphere of Heaven," Lucifer explains. "It is most likely that the Beast will take time to regain his strength if he is introduced to the energy manifested in our realm, but we must make the transport swift if he is handed over to us."

"Lucifer," Satan interjects, "how are we to persuade Yahweh into granting us the Beast? Surely, He is already aware of what we are plotting? That would clearly mean we don't need to bring forth an argument."

Lucifer glances over at the Devil with a slight grin, which only flusters the Crown of Wrath.

"Trust me, God isn’t as omniscient as the humans would believe,” he states. “He has only ever planned out the lives of humanity, not the entities of the universe. The only things that have ever caused a shift in His plans was my Mother’s intervention when She created Lutfana and when I and your predecessors rebelled against my Father all those millennia ago.

“He will not know of this conversation so our argument will not be in vain. We shall ask of Him to grant the Beast into our hands so that we may subject him to a punishment worthy of his sins or perhaps Father will kill him for us. Show a raise of hands for those who wish to proceed with obtaining the Beast from God's clutches."

All of the Crowns, most members of the Ars Goetia, and a few of the nobles and other royals raise a hand, tentacle, or wing in correspondence with the plan. Despite the number of demons who object, the majority has spoken in favor of the Emperor's plan, and the deed will go forth without hesitation.

"Very well then," the Morning Star says as he looks upon his brethren with a smile. “With this going forth, we require a suitable argument for our case. Of course, we shall use the Serpent’s tempting words to persuade the Lord but we shall also need a viable argument to persuade Him with.”

The demons converse in unison, throwing out idea after idea as to what should be said to bring forth a favorable outcome. Although Satan’s title as being a sweet-talker is well renowned in Heaven and Hell, it will be difficult to persuade God—the One who has encountered and spoken with all four Satans before him and knows of their sweet and venomous tongues.

"My lord, if we may!" a raucous voice shouts above all the other demons.

A bestial demon with three canine heads—one badly scarred, another with the face of a pup, and the other with a flowing mane as black as pitch—crawls down to the black hemisphere and bows before the Crowns. His eyes glow like embers and his mouths froth with saliva. Iridescent, black feathers cover his figure and a pair of raven wings sprout from his back. He doesn't have paws like his father but predatory talons with crimson tips.

"Marquis Naberius; number twenty-four of the seventy-two spirits of the Ars Goetia," Lucifer says. "What offer do you propose?"

The child of Cerberus clears his throats before the scarred head addresses the Emperor and the rest of the Stygian Council in a raspy, deep voice. "Many thoughts, many ideas, your majesty, we can bring."

"Though, to persuade with words so logical and sweet seems almost impossible in front of the Heavenly King," his puppy head speaks in a younger, clearer voice.

"Rhetoric we personify, yet with wisdom and deception we are not spry," the final head speaks in a refined tone. "Yet we shall bestow our idea for the Devil to say. Hopefully, with you and God, a deal can be made.”

As a hellish choir, the three heads speak in unison, their voices echoing throughout the rotunda. "God has taken our property, the property of the Crowns, and it is foolish for Yahweh to keep him locked on Heaven's grounds. It is our responsibility, the responsibility of the demon, to punish the monster accordingly, that is our reason. The Lord will regret his actions should he deny, for the Beast will surely be set free once more to slaughter lives.”

"Bring the Beast back," the gruff head barks.

"Let us slay him personally or banish him into the Abyss so black," the younger head says.

"If we do not, the Beast is sure to attack," the refined head finishes.

"To the Abyss or beheading with a True Archangel's sword," all three heads roar, "bring his judgement swift, so we can have some concord."

The rest of the Council erupts in conversation, discussing the possibility of this being a suitable argument for the Lord to acknowledge. It could work for Satan and his sweet tongue but it all depends on whether or not God is going to be stubborn about this—as He always is.

"You do bring up a good point, Naberius," Lucifer states. He looks over at Satan with a raised brow, most likely wondering if it's suitable for the Devil to use. "What do you think, Satan?"

"It would be the most persuasive thing to talk about, yes," the Serpent replies. "Though, it all depends on God's obstinacy."

Lucifer nods and turns back to the rest of the demons as Naberius takes his place among the other seventy-two—no, only seventy-one spirits. It is not normal for any demon to skip out on a meeting or a direct command from the Emperor. But once again, President Ose is nowhere to be found. Where he is, Satan has no clue, and Lucifer doesn't seem to care in the slightest.

"Show of hands for those who believe we should go forth with the plan," the Morning Star commands.

Again, only a few demons of the Council agree with the plan but it's enough to go forth with it.

Lucifer looks around the room and nods in affirmation. "Very well then. Beel—"

Abruptly, a white, ethereal portal appears in the center of the black hemisphere before the Crowns. The portal emits holy energy, which causes Satan's skin to crawl with a strange heat and alerts every demon to attention. Every demon present stands and summon their weapons in their hands, tentacles, or wings and face the incoming adversaries.

Two angels appear, both stunningly beautiful and almost rival Lucifer in elegance and power. They both are clad in gleaming gold and silver armor with blazing swords at their hips. Unlike their eldest, anointed brother, they both have two sets of wings. One has orange hair tied back into a ponytail and a scar across his cheek; the other has a curly brown mullet and a prosthetic arm like Satan.

"Michael and Gabriel," Lucifer greets with an oddly calm tone. "To what do I owe the pleasure, brothers?"

Michael, the orange-haired angel, steps forward and speaks. "Father has sent us because He knew you would gather to talk about the Beast's capture. He requests a presence with you, brother."

"He 'knew' or He 'had a feeling'?" Mammon snarls, nodding to Lucifer’s previous statement regarding God’s omniscience.

"Does it matter?" Gabriel, the brunette angel, asks calmly. "We simply ask that you come with us and meet with Father to present your case before Him."

Lucifer remains silent, looking between his brothers and the rest of the demons. Satan and everyone in this room knows that the Emperor would rather not spill anymore of his siblings' blood, not simply because of the Pact of Armageddon, but because of his everlasting guilt and the residual compassion he has left for his siblings. The Emperor takes a deep breath and lets out a stressed sigh as he opens up a portal and tosses his weapon in. The other demons follow suit, loosening the tense atmosphere.

"Very well then," Lucifer replies. "You came in at the right time, actually. We have just decided on the perfect proposition. Satan and Beelzebub shall accompany me to Heaven; where I go outside of our domain, the Satanic Triumvirate will follow." He then looks back to the throng of demons and addresses them. "This meeting of the Stygian Council is adjourned. Speak none of this to anyone, not even your own kin, lest the Inferno cry out for retribution against God's decisions."

As the rest of the demons empty the capitol building, Lucifer, flanked by his trusted advisors, follow the angelic emissaries into Heaven.

A blinding light meets the demon leaders, causing them to cover their eyes with their wings or hands. Unfortunately, the light pierces through, burning their eye-lids and into their retinas. A sharp pain courses through every fiber of Satan's being as his carnal aura opposes Heaven's sanctified atmosphere. Soon, the light recedes and the demons can finally open their eyes to see a breathtaking sight.

Artwork by Renaissance artisans have nothing on the true splendor of Heaven; it is much more beautiful than any creatures' imagination could conjure. The streets are paved with gold within fields of rainbow clouds. Streams of pristine, holy water cut through the fields where heavenly creatures quench their thirst. Flowers, unimaginable to mortal or demon thought, grow near the banks of the rivers.

The spirits of passed humans, both young and old, run around the fields gaily without so much as a care in the world. A shame, though, their living families on Earth couldn't see them once more. Why couldn't the Creator didn't bring Earth and Heaven together so that the humans on the mortal and ethereal planes could coexist? Satan has no clue. It irks the Crown, knowing that God refuses to reassure His creation in these esoteric matters.

Mansions constructed out of gold, gemstones, and other precious substances line the gold streets. God's chosen few—those He had predestined to adoption as sons and daughters by Jesus Christ to Himself, according to His will—reside within these homes, living peaceful lives with their deceased families and loved ones.

To the triumvirate's left is a garden with a painfully memorable tree sitting in the center, its fruit tantalizing to the heart and pleasing to the eye. The first harmonious man and woman couple, along with their first set of children, play around in the elysian plot of land.

Up ahead, at a ways off, is the highest sphere in Heaven, Empyrean, where God resides. He, the Christ, and the other members of the Heavenly Council are most likely gathered there, just waiting for the triumvirate’s presence.

The angels lead their demon guests straight ahead to the the throne where the Lord sits. The trip, though it should be short, feels protracted and arduous, especially with the thick cloud of animosity looming over everyone's heads. Although the Pact of Armageddon had brought about unity between Heaven and Hell, that didn't mean everyone had to act like best buddies.

Around the wandering group, angels of all ranks fly around, some giving the trio compassionate gazes while others look upon the demons with contempt. Satan can pick up the smoky scent of animosity wafting off of the heavenly beings, but tries his best not to make eye contact in the event of stirring their wrath.

"So, Satan," Michael speaks up. The Devil perks up at the Archangel’s call. "How has Lavey been doing?" His voice doesn’t sound cheery but almost concerned for the Devil’s son.

Satan hesitates on his answer, uncomfortable with speaking to the mighty Archangel, but replies anyway out of sincerity. "Lavey is doing well, thank you for asking."

Satan would rather keep quiet and refrain from interacting with the angels but something in him compels him to speak as if they were his friends. Perhaps it has something to do with their semi-compassionate nature or the fact that they share a similar aura to Lutfana, but Satan can't quite put a finger on it.

"I know we never came over to attend Lutfana’s funeral,” Gabriel says, looking back at the Devil with regret, “and we’re sorry about that. Seeing as how Father’s plans were, I guess you could say, ‘thrown out of whack’ because of Mother’s actions, we didn’t want to upset Him further. I know it's two hundred years too late but, now that we are here, I guess I can apologize properly."

Satan doesn’t know whether to be enraged by the angels’ decision or actually accept their apology. That time has long since passed, yet it still pains the Crown of Wrath that Lutfana’s own brothers or Mother never even attended her funeral or came to console Lavey or Satan’s family. He decides to keep quiet about it and continue to the throne.

“Lucy!” a childish voice cries out.

The triumvirate and the Archangels look back to see another Archangel flying over to them. Just like Michael and Gabriel, this one has gleaming silver and gold armor with a flaming sword at his hip. His hair is dirty blonde and his eyes shimmer like sapphires. The Archangel’s face looks almost childlike, unlike the rest of his mighty siblings, who seem like human adults.

The young Archangel rushes towards Lucifer, not with his sword reared back to strike, but with his arms open for a familial hug, to which the Morning Star gratefully accepts.

“I knew you’d come back one day, big brother!” the young Archangel gleefully sobs. “I missed you so much!”

Lucifer smiles as he pats his younger brother’s back and continues to embrace him. “It’s good to see you, Little Uriel. I missed you too.”

Satan had never seen this angel out in the battlefield before, nor has he seen one—other than his wife—show a demon any compassion. However, with the collective wisdom and knowledge of the previous Satans passed down onto him, he manages to realize who this little Archangel is: Uriel, the True Archangel of Wisdom, and the youngest of the five True Archangels.

Uriel removes himself from the grasp of the Crown of Pride and looks over to the other demons, his smile unwavering. He approaches the two Crowns and extends both of his hands for them to shake.

“I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Uriel, youngest of the True Archangels with big brothers Lucifer, Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael! You’re Satan and Beelzebub, right? It’s a pleasure to finally meet you!”

The Devil and the Lord of the Flies look to each other with bewilderment and anxiousness, yet shake the Archangel’s hands out of reverence.

“You seem different than most of your other callous siblings,” Satan states, looking to Gabriel and Michael, who seem unperturbed by the Devil’s sharp words. “You’re a lot less serious and don’t seem to scorn us as most of the other angels do.”

“My brothers tell me that all the time,” Uriel sheepishly replies as the group travels to the throne. “I always believe big brother Lucifer will one day return to us, repenting to Father and restoring his glory as a Seraph.”

“Unfortunately, little one,” Beelzebub gurgles, “that is not the reason for your elder brother’s return. We are simply here to have a council with God, nothing more.”

Uriel’s eyes flood with heart-crushing sorrow as the realization is laid upon him. He, along with the rest of the group, remain silent for the duration of the trip. Satan almost feels bad for the young angel, seeing as he had high hopes for his eldest brother to return to him and his family. He wants to console Uriel, but he's not sure what to say at this time.

"Where is the good doctor, anyhow?" Lucifer asks as he looks around the ethereal plane. "I'd expected him to be charging at me the moment he sensed my presence?"

"Raphael is staying under God's watch while you're here," the young Archangel replies. "He's not allowed to freely roam the area once you arrive. He's still pretty upset at you, brother."

"That he is," the Morning Star mumbles as he and everyone else make their way to Empyrean to speak before the Almighty.

Out of nowhere, a massive greatsword comes crashing down from the highest heavens and into the golden street, causing the pavement to fracture and the demons and Archangels to delay their journey to the throne. From above, a booming voice thunders through the heavens with great power and authority, but also with a hint of something that sounds like a machine.

"DEMONIC PRESENCE IDENTIFIED ENTERING EMPYRIAN. TRUE ARCHANGEL PRESENCE IDENTIFIED ENTERING EMPYRIAN."

Appearing from the high heavens is an angel unlike anything Satan has ever seen. It doesn't seem to take on the bright appearance of most of the other angels that roam the realm, but seems to be sculpted out of either metal and/or precious stones.

Its skin is pure white like the most precious pearl. Extending from the sides of its head are wings made of silver with gold primary feathers. Gold, sapphires, rubies, emeralds, and many other precious stones litter its mighty wings. Its eyes, though cool lapis, burn with the flame of authority, though seem to have no life at the same time. It has four hands, one of which holds a glistening scimitar and another holding the greatsword lodged in the street of gold. In its abdomen is a slumbering face of a demon. It has a black tail with the head of a living dragon at the end that scowls at the demons in its presence.

The mechanical angel's eyes wander over each of the three Crowns, causing an uncomfortable tingle to run through each of them.

"HELEL, THE MORNING STAR, CROWN OF PRIDE. DHAGISHAT, THE ONE FULL OF DARKNESS, CROWN OF WRATH. BHRAMARA, LARGE BLACK BEE, CROWN OF GLUTTONY. STATE PURPOSE BEFORE TERMINATION."

"It is alright, Merkabah," Michael says, taking his place between the machine and the demons. "They are with us. Father has requested their presence."

Merkabah looks to the Archangel and bows his head in compliance. He moves over to the side to allow the travelers onward to the Father.

"If I could apologize to them all, I would," Lucifer solemnly mutters as he looks to the machine, whose eyes remain glued onto the fallen angel.

Satan knows that the mechanical being is more than just a machine; according to what the Emperor had imparted unto him, it is a vessel comprised of all the slain angels that faced the Morning Star when he staged his rebellion against God. They must all be screaming for vengeance against the fallen angel, who still lives with the sin of slaughtering his own brothers.

As they near the ethereal throne, the Crowns notice the Seraphim flying around singing, "Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come!" They cover their eyes with two flaming wings to shield themselves from the unfathomable glory of God, and their legs are covered with another pair, while they use their remaining two to fly around the throne, tending to it and singing eternally.

And He who sits there on the majestic throne shines with the composition of precious stones and jewels, radiating a rainbow of heavenly colors that are even unknown to mortal, celestial, or demonic comprehension. His energy is noxious to Beelzebub and Satan, causing their skin to crawl and their heads to throb in agony, but Lucifer doesn't seem phased in the slightest. In fact, the fallen angel approaches the throne while the other Crowns hobble after him, shielding their eyes from the splendor of the Almighty.

On Yahweh’s right-hand side is a golden throne where a man, whose head and hair are white like wool—as white as snow—and His eyes like flaming fire, sits. His skin glows like the sun and He seems to radiate with unconditional love and grace. A gleaming diadem rests upon His head while His body is enrobed with a white robe that reaches down to His feet, and a gold sash wraps around His bosom.

Even in this realm, one can clearly see the indents upon the Lamb's forehead where He once wore the crown of thorns. Upon His hands and feet are the holes from where nails were driven into Him when He was nailed upon the cross.

To God’s left is an angel of phenomenal size and power; greater and grander than most of the others that fly about Yahweh’s throne. He wears a white, hooded robe with his face only revealed to be a burning fire, while his eyes are dancing torches burning through darkness. A gleaming crown rests upon his head, allowing all in Heaven to bear witness and revere his title as King of the Angels. He has seventy-two wings—three representing the Trinity multiplied by twelve according to Israel’s tribes.

In one hand is an open scroll and in the other is a quill already dripping with golden ink. As the Scribe and Voice of God, this angel is one of the only few who are deemed worthy to sit near the Almighty—a position that once belonged to Lucifer.

Twenty-four other thrones surround the thrones of God, Christ, and Metatron the Scribe; seated on these thrones are twenty-four elders—the members of the heavenly Sanhedrin—arrayed in white clothing, with crowns of gold upon their heads. They continually praise the Holy Trinity, forever singing in unison with the Seraphim: “You are worthy, our Lord and God, to receive glory
and honor and power, for You created all things, and by Your will they were created and have their being.”

Standing at the foot of God’s throne is another True Archangel; his hair is blonde and short and his blue eyes have scornful hate projected towards the demons—most notably towards his brother, Lucifer. The Emperor looks toward Raphael and quickly averts his gaze in shame.

The three Archangels bow before the members of the Holy Trinity and the members of the Heavenly Council, but the Satanic Triumvirate dare not bend a knee. They stand their ground in defiance against the Lord and His council.

“Lucifer, My son,” God speaks. His voice is so calm, yet powerful like peals of thunder, it almost makes Satan want to kneel before Him, but the Crown remembers who he serves and stands tall. “What brings you back home?”

“I am not ‘home’, Father,” the Morning Star spits back. “I have no reason to call this realm my home after You so wrongfully cast me out of my glory and from Your right hand.”

Despite God having no face or distinguishable features, Satan can tell that He is upset at His son’s harsh response.

“I suppose we shan’t delay the inevitable then,” the Supreme Being sighs in disappointment. “State your persuasion.”

Lucifer nods at Satan, prompting the Serpent to step forward. He takes a deep breath, flooding his lungs with the immaculate air of the heavenly realm, and states the demons’ proposal.

“Lord, we know You have the Beast in Your possession. We know that You are not going to execute him immediately and doing so would be foolish. He will be released one day and he will wreak havoc upon the realms of Heaven and Hell. Since he is a creation of the Crowns and our responsibility, grant the Beast over to us so that we may expunge him from reality for good!”

God remains silent and rests his head in the palm of his hand as he mulls the idea over in his head. Satan is certain He will deny their request but even if He’s not that omniscient, God should still have some common sense to understand the gravity of the consequences.

“I’m afraid I can not do that,” the Lord says. The demons are left flabbergasted and scornful at the primordial’s decision. “If I were to hand the Beast over to you, he would only regain his strength once reintroduced to Hell’s environment. He would gain the strength necessary to topple your empire and destroy reality as we know it.”

“He is the property of the Crowns of Hell!” Satan roars. “He was meant to be a mindless puppet for our servitude and thus our tool. We shall take the Beast and make certain he is granted a punishment fit for his sins. Let us take responsibility for the monster we have created!”

God looks to the huffing demon with a compassionate gaze, though its not visible. “Your tongue is sweet, Tempter, though I’m afraid I shall decline. He was your responsibility, yes, but seeing as how you didn’t exterminate him earlier makes Me question your wisdom. Though, as I recall, you forged a vessel for the titan from the miry clay, infused it with your combined power, and finally gave him life through the waters of Chaos, did you not?”

Satan can feel his throat tighten as God spills the hidden secret of the Crowns' abomination. He looks between Beelzebub and Lucifer, only to see both of them startled and left in shock.

Suddenly, an epiphany sparks in the Dragon's mind and the Beast's words resurface. As a creature given life through Chaos, it would only stand to reason that an entity just as formidable or in relation with it could aid in its escape; one of the only members of the Outer Gods who have managed to escape the wrath of the True Archangels and imprisonment within the Outerverse, the herald of the Ogdru Jahad: Nyarlathotep.

“H-how did you—“ Beelzebub stutters, but God cuts him off.

“Only a being forged or given life through Chaos would be difficult or impossible to terminate. Seeing as Azathoth’s remaining spawn, the spawns of nothingness, are impossible to be eradicated; but they were forged form Chaos and the Blind Idiot God. The Beast of the Sea, however, was merely given life from it and may very well have a chance of being expunged from existence. Though, as a father, I will have to mend the mistakes My children have made, seeing as you can’t.”

Satan grits his teeth in rage as those ridiculous words pour out of the almighty bastard's mouth. "And you believe giving the Beast a trial is ‘mending our mistakes'?! Your arrogance and stubbornness will be the catalyst for something grave, I assure you."

"SILENCE!!!" the Scribe of God bellows with authority, finally prompting the demons to prostrate themselves out of fear. "GOD HAS SPOKEN, YET YOU CONTINUE YOUR FRUITLESS PRATTLE IN HOPES OF CHANGING THE MIND OF ONE WHO KNOWS THE INTENTIONS OF YOUR HEARTS! THE LORD KNOWS HOW TO RESERVE THE UNJUST UNTO THE DAY OF JUDGEMENT TO BE PUNISHED!"

"That is enough, Metatron," God demands. God's Scribe bows his head and proceeds to write on his scroll the words of this meeting.

“Father, please,” the Christ intervenes. Surely, if there is anyone who can persuade God, it should be His own begotten Son. “I know listening to them may be foolhardy but you must at least have some common sense. Keeping the Beast locked away until trial could pose a serious risk to all of creation! Plus, we have plenty of trials to get to before we get to the Beast so—“

“I am sorry but my decision stands,” God abruptly interrupts with a bit of a harsher tone. “I simply can not hand over the Beast after the demons failed to terminate him in the first place. He is in My domain and will fall under My jurisdiction. That is final. Now begone, you three.”

Lucifer begins to tremble in rage and Satan is sure he’s about to lash out at someone, but the Crown of Pride simply opens an ethereal portal and walks to it.

“You will regret your decision here, Father,” Lucifer growls. He looks back at the throng of angels with contempt and, strangely, a bit of concern. “You will all regret His decisions! Mark my words! You lost your children, your Wife, and now you shall lose everything!”

With that, the Morning Star enters the portal, followed by the Lord of the Flies, and finally the Serpent.