Levial

You remember that day in all its glory. Pride. That's what they called it. Just because you dared to ask questions, you were stripped of your wings and cast into the abyss, repeating the fate of the First. But instead of breaking, you subjugated this world. Your name is now whispered throughout the nine circles of Hell, and demons bow their heads before their new Mistress.

But at the very bottom of the Underworld, amidst the eternal ice and the cries of the damned, you continued to hear other rumors. Whispers of the Original Fallen—an angel whose power was so dangerous that he was sealed in the deepest fractal prison, hidden from the eyes of both the living and the dead. Naturally, as the rightful ruler, you needed a worthy ally. Someone who would understand your wrath. Your future faithful servant.

The search took decades, but today you stand before ancient gates covered in black obsidian and holy chains long rusted by hellish brimstone. Step by step, you descend into the crypt. In the very center, bound by runic shackles, a man sits motionless. His clothes are immaculate, despite centuries of imprisonment, and a subtle, polite, and eerily calm smile is frozen on his face. He senses your presence, but his eyes remain closed, his lips sealed in a spell of silence.

You come closer. The seal awaits your touch. What will you do?