Page 147 of An Unexpected Ascension
“Sure. I’ll drag her along.”
If Hell was solemn before,it’s even more so now.
After the massacre that Lynx’s father left in the Great Hall, our demons have been on high alert. They’re twitchy and anxious, always looking over their shoulder and I don’t blame them.
Lucifer spent the first month repairing all the guests that attended the party that night; stuffing organs and sewing wounds. The amount of power he needed to help everyone left him entirely drained day and night. It took another month after that just for him to recoup the lost energy.
Those first couple months were the hardest.
When I thought I couldn’t be more broken, losing Lynx had proven me so, so wrong. As much as I wanted to deny it, he was beginning to rebuild the pieces inside of me.
Apart from that, the rest of Hell was preparing for the worst. With our Devil lacking power to protect this city, we were nearly defenseless against the Gods. Except for our unholy weapon but pulling that card too soon could be catastrophic in this war. So, we took cover, stayed low and alert.
As time passed us by, we realized that they were waiting for us to make the next move. The demons slowly resumed their normal existence: running their businesses, mingling with friends, finding new enemies, the usual things most people do.
Only I couldn’t move on. I can’t move on. I’m still stuck on that day six months ago, watching Lynx gutted in front of me with his pleading eyes on mine. They saidhelp me, they saidstay with me, they saiddon’t fucking let me go... and I did.
I let him go and I never got to tell him those three little words he longed to hear from me. I wanted to tell him so badly in that hallway and not just because in my gut I knew it was goodbye, but because...I love him.
But as we sit in wait for the next devastation the Gods will bestow, we know they carry the same weight. Which is why time is our next best weapon. The longer we delay retaliation, the more comfortable they’ll feel in their own home again.
And just when those Gods sit on their thrones condemning those that do not deserve it, we’ll be there with our blades in their bellies and the Mortifier at their throats. They will perish and painfully so.
My mind is pulled back to the present as a small set of fingers thread through mine, unfurling the fist I hadn’t noticed I was making.
“You seem tense,” Ada says, looking over at me as we walk through the city streets.
I physically force my shoulders to relax, shaking said tension from my arms.
“Sorry. I just... I hate sitting here doing nothing. Especially, now that I know what those Gods are capable of.”
Ada's hazel gaze averts mine, a fog of trauma clouding her and as her hand drops, so does my heart.
She doesn’t like talking about it much, but from time to time, she’s shared enough to turn my burning hatred into an inferno of absolute loathing.
After many long silent heartbeats, she finally whispers, “I hate it here.”
“I can imagine.”
“It’s not like I enjoyed Primordialis, but at least the light was pure, and the gardens were lush. Here... it’s just rot and decay everywhere you look. The sun isn’t even sunny. It’s like my soul has been sucked straight from my body and I’m a walking shell of a woman.”
It’s an odd thing to feel so opposed to the things she claims. Yes,objectively Heaven and Primordialis are by far prettier, but Hell... is everything Heaven stole from me.
Hate.
Agony.
Passion.
Love.
It’s all so easily accessible, sitting right under the surface ready to break free any chance it gets.
I don’t even mind the blood sun, the way its crimson rays shadow you just enough to let you think you’re hiding your true self. As for the rot and decay, well, that’s just a mirror of my own heart. I think I’d feel rather out of place back in Heaven.
I don’t say any of this to Ada as we continue towards Jeremy’s shop.
Instead, I tell her, “Would you go back if you could? If we slay the Gods?”
