⚠️ Viewer Discretion Advised ⚠️
This chapter contains intense violence, emotional and psychological trauma, betrayal, and dark theological themes. Includes graphic scenes of divine warfare and spiritual anguish.
Recommended for mature audiences (17+)

The Edge of the Abyss — Year 650 B.C. of the Second Earth

Lualhati's soul, tethered to Abaddon's being, became an unwilling witness of his wrath...

The screams began before she could see. Not hers, but his. Abaddon's. The sound raw and primal, ripped through Lualhati's mind like jagged glass across tender skin. She collapsed to her knees in the waking world, eyes wide but blind, heart beating in rhythm with a wrath not her own.

From across realms, she felt him, Abaddon. Broken. Burning. Furious.

The sky above the Abyss churned, black as sin and screaming with crimson lightning. In its heart stood Abaddon, wings aflame, body pulsing with divine fury barely contained.

Lucifer stepped forward, elegant in ruin, his smirk carved from the bones of fallen angels.
"Ah, Abaddon," he purred, voice like poisoned silk. "Still playing monarch in this pit? Or have you simply confused agony with sovereignty?"

Behind him, the fallen stumbled through shattered gates, hunted and gasping. Lualhati saw through Abaddon's eyes, felt the ache in his chest not from battle, but betrayal.

Lucifer's gaze flicked toward the fleeing half-bloods.
"Touching, really. Watching your ward scurry like rats from a sinking kingdom. Tell me, do they scream for their king?"

Abaddon stepped forward, slow, deliberate. The light around him was no longer holy. It was wrath made manifest.

"You dare speak of kingdoms, traitor? You, who traded grace for pride?"

Lucifer's smile widened."I traded stillness for movement. Chains for will. And here you are, clutching a dying throne in a realm of screams. How noble." 

His voice dripped with disdain. "I came to aid you, brother. This Abyss is far too vast for a fallen Seraph such as you to rule. Step aside and let me take control."

The moment cracked like glass. Abaddon roared, a sound that tore mountains apart.

 The divine sord emerged from his palm in a halo of light turned to shadow, the blade thrumming with ancient judgment. "You will not take my dominion, Lucifer!"

The Abyss convulsed as they clashed, sword against sword, truth against defiance.

Lualhati felt it all: the searing heat of his fury, the thunder of his heartbeat, the anguish of a thousand betrayals echoing in every strike. She felt her bones rattle with every parried blow, her soul flayed raw as if she were the one fighting to keep the world from unraveling.

The clash of their powers erupted, filling the Abyss with a fury that shook its foundation. Elyon looked on, torn by loyalty and dread, as the two titans battled. But Lucifer's cunning matched Abaddon's strength, and in a swift lunge, he wrenched Abaddon's sword from his grasp. 

"You are weak," Lucifer mocked, raising the blade high. 

But in a desperate surge, Elyon leapt forward, seizing the sword from Lucifer's hand. His voice trembled with newfound resolve. "I will be the King of the Abyss, Abaddon!" 

Lualhati shook in terror as Abaddon's laughter echoed, cold and wrathful. 

Time froze.

Lualhati's breath caught, Abaddon's breath caught, and then it all broke.

Abaddon's voice, when it came, was quiet. Deathly.
"You... were my brother."

"You fool," he said, his voice low. "Did you think to betray me? Your oath of fealty will be your undoing." 

With a flick of his wrist, Abaddon unleashed a torrent of wrath.

Then flame erupted. Not of fire, but judgment. A column of divine fury burst from Abaddon's chest and enveloped Elyon. His scream was short. Final. Vaporized in the agony of godhood betrayed.a force so powerful it incinerated Elyon's ethereal form. 

Flames roared, leaving only silence. 

"Abaddon!"

Lucifer looked on, stunned. "What... have you done?" He staggered back, eyes wide.

"I have freed the Abyss from treachery," Abaddon replied, his voice colder than the void. "And you, Lucifer, will answer for your intrusion. This realm is mine. You will not corrupt it further."The ground trembled as Abaddon's wrath surged, a primal rage igniting within him. "You will not find sanctuary here, Lucifer. Nor will you lay a hand on my dominion."

Abaddon turned to him slowly, shadow dripping from his wings like pitch.
"I destroy rot when I find it."

His voice carried the weight of eternity. The Abyss itself shuddered beneath it.

Lualhati sobbed, her face buried in her hands, her mind filled with screaming that wasn't hers. This was no dream—this was memory. And she could feel the unbearable pain twisting inside Abaddon. Loss. Abandonment. Rage. So much rage it left scorch marks on her soul.

"You think this realm is yours?" Lucifer spat, regaining his stance. "You think you rule this pit? No, Abaddon. You are this pit. You are what remains when hope is dead."

Their blades met again, striking like dying stars colliding. Obsidian walls cracked, the air rippling with unholy power.

"You've always envied me," Abaddon snarled, driving Lucifer back. "But you lack the spine to bear the burden of dominion."

Lucifer's face twisted.
"I will see you undone. I will reduce your throne to ash and wear your wings as my cloak!"

"Try," Abaddon growled, his eyes burning with inhuman light. "And I will bury you beneath your own arrogance."

Another explosion of force sent Lucifer tumbling, but before Abaddon could finish it.

"My King, behind you!" Malachai's cry rang too late.

From the broken shadows slithered Belial, grinning like a serpent. His dagger, forged of silence and betrayal, pierced Abaddon's side.

Abaddon staggered, a gasp escaping his lips, half pain, half fury.

Lualhati screamed.

Pain blossomed in her side, phantom and blinding. Blood that wasn't hers filled her mouth. She fell, convulsing, caught in his torment. helpless, horrified, furious.

In the Abyss, Abaddon turned, eyes full of ancient betrayal. But Belial had already vanished into the dark, the coward's work done.

Lucifer vanished too, a whisper of mockery trailing behind him.

And so the King of the Abyss remained, bleeding, breathing, burning.

Alone.

Betrayed once again, Abaddon staggered and, with a final surge of strength, pushed himself upward and fled, wings unfurling painfully as he soared through the collapsing chamber.

The Abyss roared around him, dark clouds shifted, succumbing and heeding to the wrath of its King!

*******

The Middle Surface of the Abyss, Year 650 BC of the Second Earth

LUALHATI

She felt it the moment the shadows turned cold.

It wasn't a sound or a vision. It was something deeper, something that reverberated through the marrow of her bones. A pull. A phantom thread that ran from her sternum into the deep places beneath the world. It tugged, taut and trembling, as if Abaddon's soul cried out to hers from a place so far below even the gods feared to tread.

Lualhati staggered where she stood, clutching her chest as a storm of emotion overtook her. Pain, but not her own, echoed through her being. Fury, betrayal, sorrow. And beneath it all, a despair so vast and suffocating it threatened to swallow her whole.

"Abaddon," she whispered, eyes turning glassy with grief.

She saw him, not with her eyes, but with something older, more ancient and intimate. A vision pulled from the remnants of the bond they once shared. A shared tether of spirit and memory that refused to break, even across realms.

It was a sanctuary of shadows, nestled in the tumultuous surfaces of the Abyss where Abaddon found a cavern to rest himself. Though the pain of the demonic sword seemed to be draining all of his strength, an unfathomable wrath began to grow within him.

He was pacing alone in a cavern of obsidian fire, his body bleeding shadow and light, screaming the name Elyon in anguish. His voice was hoarse with betrayal, his rage a living thing. She could feel it crawling under her skin, a thrum of heartbreak turned inferno.

The darkness around him pulsed with his anger, mirroring the storm raging inside him. Elyon, his beloved companion, had turned his back on him, aligning himself with those who sought to undermine his rule. The thought cut deeper than any blade.

"Elyon," he hissed, clenching his fists until his nails bit into his palms. "You were everything to me. How could you betray me to them?"

His voice echoed off the stone walls, a haunting reminder of his isolation. He felt the shadows creeping closer, wrapping around him like an embrace turned suffocating. In that moment of despair, the darkness of the Abyss surged forth, engulfing him in a magnificent armor of shifting shards and flickering flame. It was a terrifying transformation, one that fused his pain with power, igniting a primal fury that drove him to madness.

"I will not be mocked!" Abaddon roared, his voice reverberating with the weight of his wrath. "I will show them the consequences of their treachery!"

And then she watched, helpless, as the darkness engulfed him. Armor of flame and shard grew over his skin like a second wrathful body. His sword, the one forged from celestial light, was hurled with such rage it cracked the ground of the Abyss itself. His enemies came; former allies turned adversaries. And one by one, he struck them down in a blood-drenched waltz of vengeance.

Lualhati cried out as she felt the echo of each strike reverberate through her heart.

He was magnificent. Terrifying. Alone.

With a sudden, violent motion, he lifted his divine sword-a blade crafted from the essence of the stars-and hurled it into the air. It spiraled upwards, gleaming brilliantly against the obsidian backdrop of the cave before plunging back into the ground with a cataclysmic thud.

"Let all who doubt my dominion come forth!" he shouted, his heart pounding with exhilaration. "I challenge you! Let us settle this once and for all!"

The Abyss trembled in response, and soon, the air thickened with the presence of other fallen angels. They emerged from the shadows, their once-luminous forms now twisted and corrupt, driven by envy and ambition.

"Abaddon!" Belial, the one who struck him with the demonic blade, stood amongst the uproar. "You have lost your mind! Surrender, and I may spare your life!"

"Spare my life?" Abaddon laughed, a cruel sound that echoed in the cavern. "You think I fear death? You think I fear you?!" He brandished his other sword that flared with the flames of his fury, its edge gleaming menacingly. "Come, if you dare!"

The fallen angels surged forward, emboldened by desperation. They clashed against him, weapons clanging against his armor, but Abaddon felt invincible, fueled by the storm of his rage. Each swing of his flaming sword was precise and merciless, cleaving through their ranks as if they were mere shadows.

"Please, Abaddon!" Belial, now shrieks in fear of Abaddon after losing to a duel. His dark wings shredded to pieces, falling to his knees, bloodied and defeated. "We were allies once! Have mercy!"

"Mercy?" Abaddon sneered, the word tasting like poison on his tongue. "You betrayed me! You chose your fate!"

With a swift, ruthless motion, he struck, silencing the plea forever. The ground beneath him became a gruesome tapestry of flesh and bone, a testament to his fury as he continued his relentless assault. The echoes of battle rang out, punctuated by the cries of the fallen and the satisfying crunch of shattered wings.

Time lost all meaning as Abaddon fought, his rage fueling an insatiable hunger for vengeance. The bodies piled high, each fallen adversary a reminder of his indomitable will.

As the last of those who challenged him fell before Abaddon, silence settled in the cave, heavy and oppressive.

Abaddon stood alone, victorious amidst the carnage, the scent of blood thick in the air. He surveyed the lake of destruction around him, a grim monument to his wrath. Slowly, he knelt to retrieve his divine sword, its light flickering in the shadows. As he held it aloft, a surge of triumph coursed through him.

"I am Abaddon, King of the Abyss!" he proclaimed, his voice powerful and resonant. "Let it be known across the realms that this is the Age of Retribution! None shall defy me again!"

The echoes of his declaration rippled through the Abyss, a chilling reminder of his newfound power. He had shown them the depths.

Finally, all of the Abyss conceded to Abaddon as their sovereign.

Abaddon stood alone amidst the wreckage, victorious yet hollow. Blood and ashes mingled in the air, creating a thick, oppressive scent that clung to the ruins of the battlefield. His gaze swept across the lake of carnage that surrounded him, the fallen sprawled like broken effigies in tribute to his wrath. Slowly, with measured reverence, he knelt to retrieve his divine sword, the blade flickering in the dim light, casting a faint glow that only deepened the shadows around him. He raised it high, his figure towering in silent dominance.

She wanted to reach for him, to speak his name and call him back. But she couldn't. She was only an echo to him now, a ghost of a memory whispering in the spaces between his fury and exhaustion.

When he cried out, "I am Abaddon, King of the Abyss!" she felt the pride in him swell, but it was hollow, like a crown placed upon a corpse.

The declaration echoed, a shiver rippling through the Abyss like the final toll of a death knell. The shadows themselves seemed to bow, recognizing Abaddon's absolute rule. At last, the Abyss had conceded, its denizens shackled to their new sovereign's iron will.

Yet even as the taste of triumph lingered, a strange ache surged through Abaddon's body. 

And then, the pain returned. Sharper. Deeper. The curse.

A gnawing pain spread from where Belial's cursed blade had pierced his flesh, the wound refusing to heal, its venomous spell eating away at him. His divine armor faltered, crumbling as though surrendering to the curse. His vision dimmed, his strength waning, and at last, he staggered to his knees, blood staining his lips as he gasped for air.

Gritting his teeth, Abaddon summoned the last reserves of his strength and spread his wings, bursting from the Abyss and soaring towards the earthly realm. The journey was a blur of agony, each beat of his wings a struggle against the curse gnawing at his essence. At last, he crashed heavily in a secluded forest, the weight of his injuries pulling him down. He slumped against the earth, his consciousness slipping as darkness crept over him, his form dim and vulnerable amidst the silent trees.

Lualhati's breath caught in her throat as she watched him falter. His armor cracked, crumbled. His knees buckled. Blood dripped from his lips. She pressed her palm to her mouth, tears streaming down her cheeks as she whispered, "No... not like this."

And then, with one last desperate surge, she saw him soar, wings trembling, torn, toward the surface. She saw the trees rise to meet him, the forest catching him as he fell, broken and burning from within.

He lay still.

*******