Monarch of Darkness, Arsene

A curious hum escaped my lips as I studied this being before me. Only seeing black and white, I could only imagine the people condemned to hell by this man's actions. Nothing is ever good, nor is it bad.

"You think me wrong?" he spoke, folding his arms over his round belly. "Your expression says it all."

"I do."

"There are nine judges within the Hells, and I reign over the nine as Judge Supreme," he said coldly through narrowed eyes. "It's not my job to see in grey, but theirs. The Hells are fair, even if you don't think so. Remember, there is a reason someone is here. No one asked you to kill, rape, steal, or torture. Your actions are yours to make."

"And a child who was never thought right or wrong is forced to steal? Or a woman who can only feed her child by spreading her legs? What about them?"

Rarely do these cases enter my court. But even if they do. I make my judgment by the good vs. the bad. Feeling's be damn! You outta have been tormented by Abbadon: Child Killer."

Blinking away, I pointed to myself, smiling. " Oh, come on. You know I sent those little ones to a better place. People only feel so strongly about children due to their innocence. They're naive as fuck! Not my fault the parents weren't paying attention. That's on them, not me. It's not my fault they chose to care strongly about their little ones after the fact. Sounds more like bad parenting to me." The latest_epi_sodes are on_the (f)ir(e).nᴇt

"Do you know how messed up that sounds?" Flama stammered to say, sucking in a breath of frigid air.

"I don't need to. I'm fucking Arsene Snow. And despite how messed up it sounds. I make valid points don't I."

"No, you don't. How can you blame the victim, that--"

"Never understood the whole victim shit. Sounds like a bunch of bitching with the hope of getting sympathy."

Flama's scarlet eyes shimmered. " A therapist will have a field day with you. Please go away. Before you tip the scale of my belief."

I laughed. " Really? Is it that easy?"

"No, but your stupidity is so encompassing I might take it out on my next plaintiff or defendant." He grievously responded, reopening his book again. He lifted it to cover his eyes, like a child trying to ignore the adult.

I like him. I like him far more now than the last time I saw him.

Flama lifted his eyes over the book and knitted his brow. " Shoo-Shoo. Get lost."

"How's my little sister." I finally asked the only question I cared about.

"Eating ice cream while she recovers. Never seen someone care more about the flavoring of her ice cream than her injuries." He responded, lowering his book. " But there is one big question everyone is asking."

"How did they get sealing weapons?"

Flama nodded gravely. "The level of sealing weapons needed to grab hold of your sister's physique requires it to be almighty in spirit, material, and technique. From there, it needs blood and a heartstone. Let me tell you. All this is insanely rare, especially when we are talking about techniques that are within the Origin Realm or higher."

Restraining the coldness flame brewing within my soul, pulsing with the wrath of sin, paramount to any lord within the Nines, I growled in response. "Based on the fact that there were so many bastards with these weapons. It must have been an organization filled with dozen of people working together to forge hundreds of weapons. One person could not handle that many at that level. Am I right?"

Flama nodded in the affirmative, pushing me to direct my fury toward a particular man. I was so close to naming the man, but all I had was speculation. The Five souls killed by the Blood Reavers showed me the angel, the Seraphim. All I needed was a name.

I can't just run in and kill the Angels. I don't have the manpower or the power to kill Archangels. At least not yet. I would need to team up with multiple layers of hell and have a few Fallen behind me to stand a chance. Or at least the Abyss.

"What do you know about Metatron?"

"He sounds like a Transformer."

"... I do not disagree, lol. "

Flama folded arms tightened. " he's a prick. I know Lucifer doesn't like Michael, but Metatron is worse. Michael will tell you he doesn't like you to your face, but Metatron will scheme, like a devil, to break you. He's two-faced. Insanely so. But he's a decorated leader, and he can be kind and compassionate, as he follows all Virtues to the best of his ability. At least publicly."

"What's that mean? Publicly?" I asked, shooting a single brow up.

"I can't know how he truly feels because I don't know the man. I can't read his mind. One can hold the virtues dearly in their heart but fall into sin. Lucifer was the perfect example." Flama said calmly, shaking his head. He gave his well-groomed beard a stroke and surveyed the library eerily. "I do not doubt Metatons commitment to the Vitrues, but I know he's not as he appears."

"So he's an enigma. The Mephisto of the Angels."

Flama paused and fell into a burst of laughter that shook the walls. " Well, that's quite accurate. The two do hate each other. Well, I know Metatron still hates him. Mephisto might have forgotten about him. He was never one to hold a grudge." finishing his chuckle, Flama shook his head, shooting me a side glance. " You suspect Metaton for what happened to your sister."

"He's at the top of the list." I calmly replied, feeling my wrath being tempered by my pride as I held myself back.

As if the two were at war with each other, the Path of Abyssal Night swelled within me, cloaking me in a flame of darkness.

"Lilith is furious with the Angels right now. And I do not blame her. That being said, I suspect they might be sending a delegate to communicate with her. I just hope it's one she likes. Else, they're dead."

"Never mind the affairs of the Abyss. When will you visit Irkalla? They are awaiting their new sovereign."