The Rule of Succession

Prologue

The Rule of Succession:

Only the strongest can rule Hell. Any may challenge the monarch to a duel to the death and the victor will rule. 

Prologue

Lucifer's wings were useless. An extra pair of limbs that hung limp. If they worked, he wouldn't be falling at the speed of light right now. The wind rustled his golden hair, and whistled in his ears.

Around him, empty space whirled around him. Things would have moved in and out of his vision, if he hadn't been outside the plane of reality.

His thoughts raced through his head. Namely, the time before this and his actions that had resulted in his fall. He rebelled against his father, God. Simple as that. His ego got the best of him, and he decided to wage war against the Heavenly Host. He raised an army, made up of an entire third of the Host of Angels. His brother, the Archangel Mi-ka-el had rallied the rest of them against him, and ended up defeating him.

Now, God had exiled him. He was now one of the fallen. The first Fallen.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw other falling angels, each one's wings as useless as his. Strangely, the feathers on their wings were falling off as they fell through the air. Slowly, each angel's wings were plucked clean, with only the flesh underneath remaining. Lucifer's wings remained intact. Whether it was because of his status as Archangel, or God's mercy, he didn't know. But it fueled his pride nonetheless.

Below them, something appeared.

If Heaven was light and warmth and everything good, this something was the complete opposite. It was dark and cold and stunk of sulfur, of wickedness. A place for the wicked, sinful. Perfect for Lucifer and his band of Fallen.

They were not the only ones in the barren wasteland. There were camps of other creatures. They seemed so small from so far up. Their small fires looked like tiny blips on a black background.

The sound of Lucifer crashing into the rocky terrain echoed throughout the plains. A crater surrounded the archangel, cracks spider webbing out from him. He slowly got to his feet. Around him, his army of defeated angels crashed around him, each one striking the ground at terminal velocity.

Above Lucifer's head, a golden halo glowed. He gripped it with his hand and tore it away. He held his halo in his hand and grinned. The once holy light would provide him with enough light to see.

He shakily took a step forward and began to climb his way out of the crater. His halo lit the ground around him. The ground was made of red rock, cold as ice. There was no warmth down here.

In the distance, a large spire rose from the ground. Once he set eyes on it, Lucifer knew that was his target. He started his journey to it. With every step came a sharp pain in his leg that made him limp. He did nothing more to show it than grit his teeth.

There was a lack of scenery to enjoy on his trek. The landscape was barren and made of the same red rock. The sky was black and a heavy mist laid in the distance, where the spire jutted out from. There was a small cluster of black rock here or there, or a fire in the distance, but that's it.

Lucifer came across a crater not unlike the one he had created when he had hit the ground. In the middle laid one of the angels that had sided with him in the war. He looked so different now as he looked up at Lucifer with broken, insane eyes. His halo had broken into two and stabbed him in the forehead, forming horns. Black blood leaked out from his forehead, falling down into his eyes and down his cheeks. It looked like he was crying blood.