Returning to Maria Ave's small town in Italy, a sense of unease enveloped her as she fretted over Asmo's sudden departure. His abrupt insistence on her return home had left her fraught with worry, prompting her to consider taking drastic measures to ensure his well-being. The distant rumble of thunder mirrored the tempest raging within her, echoing the tumultuous emotions that churned in her heart.As the days stretched into an agonizing wait, Maria's concern deepened, manifesting in restless nights and anxious days. Each unanswered call to Asmo served as a poignant reminder of his absence, amplifying the ache of longing that gnawed at her soul. The idea of boarding a transatlantic flight to the United States of America loomed as a compelling yet daunting prospect, a testament to the depth of her devotion and the relentless tug of her heartstrings.Amidst the palpable sense of yearning, Maria found herself ensnared in a labyrinth of conflicting emotions. The specter of uncertainty cas
Asmo left the" Merry Christmas Atmosphere" and vanished to the cemetery.He had gone to pay his last respects to his deceased human best friend he fondly nicknamed Johnny Boy.The noble prince of Hell, departed from the festive Christmas atmosphere cooked up by his brothers and made his way to the serene cemetery. The purpose was to honor the memory of his departed human confidant, Johnny Saint, a cherished friend whom he held dear which wouldn't happen as long as his brothers followed him.Thinking back to what happened when he got there was a blur but it seemed like something as simple as this:Upon reaching the cemetery grounds, he discovers Johnny's widow, Klair, weeping inconsolably at his gravesite. Initially intending to offer her solitude in her time of mourning, Asmo finds himself unable to depart as she acknowledges his presence. With tear-streaked cheeks, she beseeches him for information regarding Johnny's untimely demise, fully aware of his reticence. Despite this, she im
As Christmas Day dawned over the city of New York, the sun slowly rose, casting its warm light over the bustling streets and towering skyscrapers. People hurried along the sidewalks, carrying gifts and spreading holiday cheer, while the city shimmered with the festive spirit.However, within a dimly lit warehouse nestled deep in the heart of the city, a starkly different scene unfolded. A group of men, shrouded in shadows, meticulously packed an array of guns and assorted weapons. Each movement was careful and deliberate, the air thick with a sense of secrecy and urgency.As the morning light filtered through the dusty windows, it illuminated the men's intense expressions as they worked, their faces betraying no emotion. Outside, the joyful sounds of Christmas bells and laughter seemed to fade into the distance, drowned out by the muted clinks and metallic echoes within the warehouse.The juxtaposition of the festive city outside and the clandestine activities inside the warehouse crea
In a dimly lit, foreboding chamber, Asmodeus, the prince of lust, loomed over the battered and restrained figure of one of Satan's closest confidants. The man, his once strong and imposing frame now reduced to a broken and bloodied state, bore the unmistakable marks of brutal interrogation: nail-pulling, bone-breaking, and relentless submersion in icy water. Yet, despite the unrelenting agony, the man remained resolute in his silence, unwavering in his loyalty to Satan.As the air hung heavy with tension, Asmodeus, recognizing the futility of conventional methods, decided to adopt a more insidious approach. Leaning in close, he began to speak, his voice a calculated blend of menace and persuasion.Asmodeus began, "I respect your unwavering loyalty to my brother, but do you truly believe that he reciprocates that loyalty? Does he truly value and care for you as you do for him?"The man, his eyes reflecting a mix of pain, defiance, and lingering faith, met Asmodeus's gaze with a steely
Deep within an underground stronghold, Asmo took center stage before his handpicked elite squadron, divulging the details of their imminent course of action. They needed to brace themselves for the impending retaliation from Satan. As he concluded, he inquired, "Any questions?" A woman raised her hand and abruptly uttered, "Did you truly believe you could outmaneuver the all-powerful Saturn?" To those within the criminal underworld, Satan was known as Saturn, but Asmo never referred to Satan as such in the presence of his mercenaries. This revelation could only mean one thing - Satan had her under his control. Before his assassins could react, the woman revealed an explosive strapped to her chest and triggered it before they could intervene. The ensuing blast reduced the entire edifice to rubble. Asmo teleported out just before the detonation. Returning to survey the aftermath, he found no survivors; his cherished assassins were lost. Satan had demonstrated without hesitation that he
Asmo had to now go and find Mammon. They had to do the convergence so that Asmo would be twice as strong as Satan. He needed as much strength as possible. The convergence was the act of transferring the power of two fallen angels into one person. For the process to work, there needed to be unbreakable trust between the two.Asmo saw no one he trusted more than Mammon. That was why it worked the first time and now Asmo was willing to do it again even though it took almost a century to undo the first convergence.It was a crucial juncture for Asmo; he was determined to surpass Satan at his own game. Asmo instantly teleported to the clandestine safehouse where he had entrusted Mammon. This precaution was essential because if Satan caught wind of their intentions, he would likely obliterate them both rather than risk confronting Asmo's formidable, ultimate form, capable of stalling two Archangels for days.Approaching the door, Asmo was interrupted by a call. It was Mammon. Upon answering
As Asmo stood before Lucifer, he was utterly shocked by the gravity of Lucifer's ultimatum. How could his own brother demand that he hand over Maria, to be left vulnerable and defenseless, like a lamb to the slaughter? Asmo found himself blurting out, "Why the hell would I do that?"Lucifer locked eyes with Asmo, his gaze unwavering as he questioned, "What are you doing?" Asmo couldn't find the words to respond. Perhaps he was unable to articulate his actions, or maybe he was grappling with his own confusion. One thing, however, was crystal clear to him – he would never allow his brothers to lay their filthy hands on Maria.In this tense moment, the air crackled with unspoken emotions. Asmo's inner turmoil and determination clashed against Lucifer's chilling demand. The weight of their unspoken conflict hung heavy in the air, as the fate of Maria and the bond between the brothers teetered on a precarious edge.In the depths of Asmo's conflicted spirit, Maria held an irreplaceable posi
The sports car sped through the dense, hushed woods at a record-breaking speed. Asmo and Maria were inside, their hearts racing as they tried to outpace Satan and escape his clutches. Asmo couldn't teleport Maria back home due to her stubbornness. Despite his attempts, she adamantly refused to be taken, and even when he tried to do so without her consent, his abilities failed him.One of the drawbacks of having her blessing was that she could dictate how and when he could use it. Naturally, his Father would never grant him the power of a Saint without the Saint having control over its usage. Maria's refusal wasn't meant to frustrate Asmo; rather, she was afraid for him. She had overheard Asmo and Lucifer's conversation, and she knew that Satan, the greatest evil in existence, was coming for Asmo. No matter how many times he assured her that he could handle Satan, she remained unconvinced. It was clear to her that they had only two options: leave together or stay to face the Prince of
As the explosion's echoes faded, Mark emerged from the smoke-shrouded house, Lucia's limp form cradled in his arms. The bright night light emitted by the moon began to shine clearly after the ceasing of the storm.It cast an eerie glow on the scene, illuminating the carnage that littered the grounds. Mark's Crusaders awaited him outside, their faces etched with concern and curiosity. With a nod, they presented him with the fallen comrades, their lifeless bodies strewn like puppets cut from their strings.Mark's voice rang out, clear and commanding, "Arise!" The air seemed to vibrate with an otherworldly energy as the deceased warriors stirred, their wounds knitting together with an unnatural speed. The leader's eyes widened in awe, his query tumbling forth, "Who was the one you carried out, Mark?""A human," Mark replied, his tone low and enigmatic. The leader's surprise was palpable, his words spilling out in a rush, "A human? Living among demons? What sorcery is this?" Mark's gaz
Mark's gaze swung around, his eyes scanning the sandy island with a mix of frustration and disbelief, as he realized the lifeless body he had left behind was now gone. The sand seemed to stretch out like an empty canvas, devoid of the gruesome brushstrokes of Chuck's corpse. Mark's mind raced with the implications - Chuck, or rather Mara, the ancient demon king, was still alive. The thought sent a surge of adrenaline through his veins, his heart pounding in his chest like a drum.Mark's sigh of frustration was like a deflated balloon, his breath escaping in a slow hiss as he recalled the countless times he had tried to kill Mara.The memories were etched in Mark's mind like scars, a reminder that he had unfinished business to deal with.Mara's dark history unfolded like a classic horror show. His reign was a masterclass in tyranny, as he ruled with an iron fist, his kingdom a dystopian realm of fear and subjugation. Mara's daughters, equally corrupted by their father's influence, wer
The darkness of night shrouded the sandy island, the only sound the crashing of waves against the shore. Mark stood firm, his shotgun at the ready, as Chuck's demon minions emerged from the shadows.Their eyes glowed with an otherworldly light, their twisted forms seeming to shift and writhe in the faint moonlight. Mark gripped his shotgun tightly, but instead of firing, he used the weapon as a club, swinging the handle with precision and force.The first minion stumbled back, his head cracked and bleeding, as Mark struck him with a swift swing of the shotgun's handle. The second minion lunged, his claws snapping wildly, but Mark dodged and countered with a swift strike to his chest, sending him crashing to the sand.The third minion charged, his eyes blazing with fury, but Mark was ready. With a swift swing of the shotgun's handle, he struck the minion with a crushing blow, sending him stumbling back into the darkness.Mark stood panting, his shotgun still at the ready, as the minion
Lucia struggled to her feet, the deafening explosion still echoing in her mind like a lingering nightmare. As she rose, Mark's taunting voice cut through the air, his words dripping with malice. "Lucia, I don't know what Mara told you, but this island isn't what you think it is. Even though I'm not sure why he brought you here, I will assume that you are innocent and worth saving."Lucia's response was a fierce scream, her voice shattering the tense silence like a shards of broken glass. "I don't know who Mara is!!!, but I doubt a psychopath like you would understand!" The words tore from her throat like a primal cry, her anger and fear boiling over.Mark's laughter was a cold, mirthless sound, a chilling contrast to the warmth of the tropical air. He materialized in the same room, his sudden appearance making Lucia's heart race like a wild animal. "Let's just stop the game of cat and mouse," he sneered, his eyes glinting with a sinister light. "I'm not the enemy here."But Lucia was
As they returned to the island, the staff encircled Lucia, their worried faces a blur of questions and concerns. But she dismissed their inquiries with a flick of her hand, forcing a bright smile onto her lips. "I'm fine, really," she assured them, her voice steady despite the turmoil churning inside. Yet, her eyes betrayed her, revealing the depth of her fear and anxiety.Longing to escape the suffocating attention, Lucia made her excuses and hastened towards the familiar haven of her bed. Her feet carried her with a sense of urgency, as if seeking refuge from the world. As she collapsed onto the soft mattress, her eyelids drooped, and she surrendered to the all-consuming darkness of sleep.But her slumber was short-lived, her mind conjuring a vivid dreamscape that seemed all too real. She saw the world through a stranger's eyes, her vision limited to a narrow field of view. The shady man once again appeared before her.He loomed ahead, his gun trained on a face she couldn't see. B
As the boat churned through the turquoise waters, the small port and outskirts of the town materialized before Lucia's eyes like a canvas painted by a masterful hand. The sun cast its golden rays upon the rustic buildings, imbuing them with a warm, inviting glow. The sound of seagulls filled the air, their melodic cries intertwining with the hum of the engine and the gentle lapping of waves against the hull.The port drew closer, its worn wooden docks and faded buildings rising from the shore like a worn, comfortable shoe. The scent of saltwater and seaweed wafted through the air, mingling with the faint tang of diesel fuel and the sweet aroma of exotic spices. Lucia's excitement grew, her heart racing with anticipation as the boat docked with a gentle thud.Without hesitation, Lucia sprang from the boat, her feet pounding the worn planks of the dock as she eagerly drank in the town's atmosphere. But her enthusiasm was short-lived, her lungs rebelling against the noxious air that fi
A woman lay in her bed, her sleeping form a graceful curve, her body relaxed, trusting in the bed's embrace. But then, her body began to stir, her legs twitching, her arms flailing, as if trying to outrun the darkness that suddenly began haunting her dreams. Her eyes snapped open, her chest heaving, her breath coming in short gasps, as if she'd been running from the shadows that chased her.This woman went by the name Lucia.She was a woman with a past shrouded in mystery, her memories fragmented, her mind a canvas of confusion. Her long, curly hair cascaded down her back like a rich, chestnut waterfall, and her piercing green eyes shone like emeralds in the morning light. With a graceful motion, she threw off the covers and rose from her bed, the soft rustle of her silk nightgown whispering secrets to the morning air.As she moved towards the door, her slender legs carried her with the fluid grace of a deer, her bare feet making barely a sound on the cold floor. The warm sunlight
Asmo paced back and forth in the dimly lit corridor, his anxiety growing with each passing moment. "How much longer will they deliberate?" he muttered to himself.Finally, the doors to the courtroom creaked open, and Michael emerged, his expression solemn.He ordered the Transcendant guards,"Guards, tell Asmo and Lucifer to return to the courtroom."Asmo's heart raced as they reentered the courtroom. Michael cleared his throat, his voice echoing through the chamber. "Lucifer and his brothers, you have been found guilty of unspeakable evil. Your punishment is to be dropped into the unforgiving bottomless pit... or..."Lucifer didn't seem surprised by the verdict at all.He acted indifferent as usual but he couldn't stop himself from asking what was on everyone's mind.Lucifer's eyes narrowed, his voice laced with intrigue as he asked,"Or what, Michael?"Michael's gaze locked onto Lucifer's. "There is a way for all of you to avoid your damnation. Come with me."Asmo's eyes widened as Mi
As the dust settled, Michael and the other Archangels burst forth from the rubble, their powerful presence evident as they levitated into the air. They landed gracefully on the outskirts of the battlefield, their eyes scanning the horizon as they gazed out upon the army of demons that stretched before them. The demons were armed to the teeth, their bodies laden with an arsenal of sophisticated weapons - grenades, machine guns, rocket launchers, flamethrowers, and even suicide bombs strapped to their bodies.The demons unleashed a hail of attacks, a cacophony of gunfire and explosions that shook the ground. But the Archangels stood firm, their eyes blazing with divine intensity as they weathered the storm. Michael raised a hand, and the onslaught froze in mid-air, suspended by the Archangels' collective power."Who's ready to end this?" Michael asked his brothers, his voice low and commanding. His eyes flashed with determination, and his brothers nodded in unison. Their faces were set