Inferno Of Desire

Chpater 26: Heart of the Abyss

The deeper they descended into the Abyss, the more oppressive the atmosphere became. The air felt thick, almost tangible, clinging to their skin like a living entity.

The shadows no longer simply followed them — they writhed and hissed, mocking their every step, their whispers crawling into Azrael’s mind.

"You’ll fail again."

Azrael clenched his jaw, shaking off the haunting words that echoed inside his head. He’d heard them before, long ago, when he had first lost Seraphine. The Abyss was playing tricks, digging into his memories, his regrets. He wouldn’t allow it to distract him.

Seraphine’s voice cut through the oppressive silence. “Can you feel it? The pull is getting stronger.”

Azrael nodded, his fiery eyes scanning the path ahead. “The heart of the Abyss is near. We have to be ready.”

But beneath his composed exterior, Azrael felt a storm brewing. Every step closer to the Abyss's core brought a resurgence of memories, flickers of a time long forgotten. They weren’t just battling the demons of the present — they were facing ghosts of their past.

As they rounded a jagged corner, the ground trembled beneath them. The walls shifted, revealing a massive stone archway, etched with symbols that seemed to writhe and shift under their gaze.

The pull was undeniable now, an invisible force tugging them toward the heart of the darkness.

Seraphine hesitated, her hand reaching out to touch one of the symbols. “These markings… I’ve seen them before,” she murmured, her pale silver eyes narrowing as she traced the patterns. “They’re ancient, from the time of the Veil’s creation.”

Azrael’s breath caught in his throat. “The Veil…” he echoed, a distant memory surfacing, blurring the line between past and present.

The Veil was not just a barrier between realms. It was something deeper — something tied to them both. But how, exactly, he could not fully grasp. Every time he tried to piece together the fragments of that past, it slipped through his fingers like sand.

Lirael stepped forward, her gaze sharp. “This is a trap,” she said. “The Abyss is manipulating your memories.”

Azrael shook his head. “No. These memories… they’re real.” His voice faltered for a moment before he steadied himself. “There’s something here, something we need to remember.”

Seraphine turned to him, her brow furrowing in concern. “Azrael, we don’t have time for this. The heart of the Abyss is our priority.”

But he couldn’t shake the feeling gnawing at him, the sense that this place held answers. “Seraphine, this isn’t just about the Abyss,” he said, his voice low. “It’s about us. What we lost — what was taken from us.”

Seraphine’s expression softened, her eyes searching his. For a moment, there was no danger, no impending doom — just the two of them, standing at the edge of something they had forgotten.

“We need to keep moving,” Lirael urged, her voice cutting through the moment like a blade. “The Abyss will not wait for your revelations.”

Reluctantly, Azrael tore his gaze from Seraphine. She nodded, a silent understanding passing between them.

Whatever answers this place held, they would have to wait. For now, their mission was clear.

They crossed through the archway, stepping into a vast chamber. At the center, a swirling mass of shadows pulsed, radiating an unnatural energy.

The heart of the Abyss.

It was larger than they had imagined, a chaotic storm of darkness that seemed to draw all the light if any existed.

Azrael tightened his grip on his sword, feeling the weight of his past and present collide. The heart pulsed in time with his heartbeat, drawing him closer with each passing second.

“This is it,” Seraphine whispered, her voice tinged with awe and fear. “The source of all the corruption.”

Azrael took a step forward, but the ground trembled beneath them. The shadows shifted, coalescing into familiar forms. Ghosts from the past. Azrael’s breath hitched as he saw them — fallen angels, comrades he had once fought beside, now twisted into demonic forms. Their hollow eyes stared back at him, accusing.

“You let us fall,” one of them hissed, their voice a venomous whisper. “You abandoned us.”

Azrael’s heart clenched. These were the souls he had failed to save. The warriors who had trusted him — and died because of him. Guilt crashed over him like a tidal wave, but he stood firm.

“I didn’t abandon you,” Azrael said, his voice hoarse but resolute. “I was cast out, just like you.”

Seraphine stepped beside him, her presence a balm to his fractured soul. “These are lies, Azrael,” she said softly, her hand brushing against his arm. “The Abyss is using your guilt to break you. Don’t let it.”

He nodded, drawing strength from her words. But the voices continued, a cacophony of blame and accusation that threatened to drown him. Azrael’s hands trembled as he raised his sword, the weight of his past heavy in his grip.

“I’m not that man anymore,” he whispered, more to himself than to the specters. “I won’t lose anyone again.”

With a roar, he lunged forward, his blade slicing through the shadows. The ghosts screamed and dissipated, their forms unraveling into wisps of smoke. Azrael stood panting, his chest heaving with the effort of keeping the memories at bay.

Seraphine placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch grounding him. “We’ll face this together,” she said softly, her silver eyes shining with conviction.

Azrael nodded, his resolve hardening. The heart of the Abyss pulsed again, as if in defiance of their bond. But this time, he wasn’t afraid.

Together, they would destroy it.