𝕱𝖔𝖗𝖘𝖆𝖐𝖊𝖓 ✧ 𝔐𝔦𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔢𝔩 𝔏𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔫

𝔈𝔭𝔦𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔲𝔢

♦

Lilith reclined on the imposing throne, her posture casual yet commanding, exuding an air of effortless authority. With one hand, she idly swirled the lollipop in her mouth, the sweet taste a stark contrast to the serious business at hand. Her other hand expertly navigated the tablet, her eyes scanning through the data with focused determination.

"Next!" Her voice cut through the silence of the throne room, echoing off the stone walls with a commanding presence.

As the doors creaked open, a new soul timidly stepped into the chamber, visibly trembling in the presence of the powerful queen of Hell. Lilith's gaze remained fixed on the tablet until she finally addressed the newcomer.

"Name?" Her tone was firm, demanding answers.

"N-Naomi Blackburn," the woman stuttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lilith verified the name on the screen before lifting her eyes to meet Naomi's gaze, her expression a mix of curiosity and slight annoyance. "Why are you here, Naomi?"

The woman hesitated, her eyes downcast as she spoke. "I got sent down here for ending a pregnancy."

A flicker of disbelief crossed Lilith's features, her brows furrowing in frustration. "Seriously? They sent you down here for that?"

Naomi nodded, her distress evident as she recounted the circumstances of her death.

Lilith's demeanor shifted, her posture straightening as she leaned forward, the seriousness of the situation settling upon her. "Well, if that's all," she began, rising from her throne and descending the steps to stand before Naomi.

"You're free to do as you please," Lilith declared, her voice firm yet compassionate. "You're not deserving of any punishments."

Naomi's eyes widened in disbelief, confusion clouding her features. "What?"

"You heard me," Lilith replied, her gaze unwavering. "I've got bigger monsters to deal with."

With a nod to the Guards of Hell, Lilith instructed them to escort Naomi to one of the chambers, her decision made with a sense of justice that transcended the rigid rules of the underworld.

Lilith's eyes landed on her assistant who moved into the throne room looking as if she had seen a ghost with a letter in hand. 

"What is it?" Lilith asked.

"You've received a summons."

"From whom?" Lilith scoffed. 

"From Heaven."

Lilith's expression shifted from curiosity to concern as she read the contents of the letter, her brow furrowing with worry. With a sense of urgency, she moved swiftly through the throne room, the weight of the message heavy on her mind. Her flowing dress billowed behind her like a dark cloud, the sound of her bare feet echoing against the cold, marble floor as she made her way into the labyrinthine obsidian corridors that wound through the depths of Hell.

As she walked, the oppressive darkness seemed to swallow her whole, the only sound the distant cries of tormented souls. Finally, she reached the door she sought, her hand knocking against the cold, unforgiving surface before she pushed it open.

Inside, the scene was a grim tableau. Michael stood amidst the chaos of the operating room, clad in a black leather apron and mask, his hands stained crimson with blood. His hair, tied back with a band, framed his face as he worked with a steady hand, his focus unwavering despite the agonized pleas of his victim.

"Michael," Lilith called out, her voice cutting through the cacophony of suffering.

At the sound of her voice, Michael lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers with a mix of surprise and concern. With practiced care, he set down his scalpel, pulling down his mask.

"I need to speak with you," Lilith said, her gaze flickering toward the tortured soul on the table before returning to Michael.

Without hesitation, Michael placed a comforting hand on the man's shoulder, his voice soothing despite the horror of the scene. "Don't you worry," he murmured. "I'll be right back."

As the man's sobs continued to echo in the room, Michael closed the door behind him, turning his full attention to Lilith.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his expression filled with genuine concern as he took in her troubled demeanor.

"We have a problem," Lilith replied, her voice grave as she conveyed the urgency of the situation as she held up the letter.

♦