The Demonlands were never silent.
Even in slumber, the scorched skies rumbled with low thunder, and rivers of magma pulsed beneath jagged obsidian ground. The air tasted of ash, bitter power, and ancient sin. The very fabric of this realm sang a song of unyielding destruction, a melody composed by the fallen gods and the ancient forces that shaped it. Yet tonight, amid the roaring heart of the Abyssal Palace, the Queen of the Abyss sat alone, as still as the storm that always raged just beyond her domain.
Lilith's throne was not just a seat of power, but a monument to her legacy. Constructed from the bones of forgotten titans, the skulls of angels and demons long since devoured, it exuded an aura of unspeakable authority. It was upon this throne that Lilith, the Mother of All Calamities, the devourer of angelic hosts and breaker of kings, had reigned for centuries—until now.
Her long, silver-black hair spilled over her shoulders like a dark waterfall, its shimmering strands moving with an unnatural grace as though they were alive. Her talons, which could tear the soul from a celestial or rip apart the fabric of reality itself, rested limply on the armrests of her throne, their usual sharpness dulled by a weariness she rarely allowed herself to acknowledge. Her crimson eyes, usually alight with madness, hunger, and a thirst for destruction, now appeared hollow, reflecting the dim light of the torches that flickered ominously along the hallways.
The air itself seemed to shudder under the weight of her thoughts. Her kingdom was at war, her power unquestioned, yet something had changed. The ancient pulse, the beating heart of something that should not have existed, echoed through her very being.
She felt it. That thrum. That pulse. The faint echo of a beat not her own.
The Heart of Singularity.
Lilith, who had devoured entire realms and crushed armies beneath her heel, trembled. Her connection to Kael ran deeper than blood. She had not just given him life; she had given him the power to reshape the very fabric of existence. He was not merely her son—he was an anomaly, a singularity in the grand weave of reality. And something older than either of them had stirred.
She could no longer ignore it. She could no longer pretend that she could control him. Kael had always been different. His birth had not been the result of some careful design or an act of divine malice—it had been something… else.
Rising from her throne, Lilith felt the air grow thick with tension. Every servant, every demonic general, even the most terrifying of her enforcers, immediately collapsed to their knees in reverence—or perhaps fear. But Lilith said nothing to them. She walked without speaking, her feet bare against the obsidian floor, the stone hissing beneath her as she moved. She did not head toward the war rooms, the battle-scarred halls where her generals would gather and plot her next conquest. She did not seek the power of her armies or the blood of her enemies. No, tonight she sought something else—something long buried beneath her own throne.
Her path led her deeper into the Abyssal Palace, into the forbidden vaults beneath her domain, the very place that no demon dared venture. It was a chamber sealed since the First Age, a place where time had forgotten itself, where even the most daring of demons refused to tread.
She approached a door made of writhing flesh, its surface pulsing like a living wound, stitched together by angel bone and abyssal blood. It was a door that could not be opened by force, but only by command.
"Open," she commanded softly, her voice like a whisper of thunder.
The door obeyed. It peeled apart like lips revealing ancient, jagged teeth, and behind it lay a solitary chamber, no wider than a prison cell. At its center, suspended in the air like some forgotten relic, was a crystal. It was cracked, glowing faintly, and within its fractured depths, a single drop of violet light hung in the air, suspended within a black void.
Lilith's breath hitched.
She remembered.
The day she had found that light. Not in hell, nor in heaven, but in the void between stars. She had found it drifting, untethered, an anomaly without a beginning or an end. She had cradled it like a child, not knowing whether it was a seed that would grow into destruction or a curse that would eat the universe from the inside out.
And then came Kael.
She remembered his birth—not in pain or labor, but in a storm, a crack in the very fabric of existence itself. Thunder had rolled across the sky, and shadows had bent to his presence. He had not cried, not like other infants. Instead, he had watched her with eyes wide open, as if he had been waiting for her. He had seen her before she had seen him.
She remembered his first words—his first utterance, not of love or affection, but of recognition. He had looked at her not as a mother, but as something else. He had named her—not with tenderness, but as a fact, a truth.
Kael had not been her firstborn. But he had been her only true one. The rest of her children—monsters born of lust, rage, and ambition—were fleeting. But Kael... Kael was different. Chosen, perhaps. Or stolen.
And now, as the pulse of the Heart of Singularity grew stronger, Lilith understood the truth. They had found him. She had known this day would come, but she had never expected it to arrive so soon.
Her voice cracked as she whispered to the crystal, to the light, to the void. "Why now?" she asked, her words laced with a strange mix of desperation and fury. "I defied the cosmos for you. I killed time for you. I turned on my own kin… for you."
The violet light within the crystal flickered, its intensity fading, the cracks widening further. It was as though the very essence of the light was unraveling before her eyes.
Then, from within the crystal, a voice—ancient, formless, and without compassion—whispered, not from the depths of the crystal, but from within her very soul.
"The Equation seeks to balance itself."
Lilith staggered back, her claws raking across the stone as if the words had physically struck her. She clawed at the air, as if trying to grasp the very concept of what had been spoken.
"No," she hissed, her voice a venomous growl. "You will not take him. I am the abyss. I am the end."
But even as she screamed, the light inside the crystal dimmed and finally vanished. The faint glow that had once pulsed with power faded into the void, leaving Lilith alone in the darkness.
The vault grew cold.
Lilith, the Queen of the Abyss, the devourer of worlds, the mother of Kael, fell to her knees. For the first time in her existence, she felt helpless. She had never known weakness, never known the sensation of being unable to control her destiny. But now, she was staring into the abyss of her own futility.
Memories, long buried and long forgotten, flooded her mind. She saw the tiny Kael, reaching for her hand as he had done countless times in his infancy. His silent gaze—so knowing, so ancient, even at that young age. She remembered the first time he had called her "Mother"—not with affection, but with recognition. It had not been a word of love, but one of fact. She was not his nurturer, his protector. She was merely the vessel through which the anomaly had entered this world.
She had always known, deep down, that Kael was not a son like any other. He was something beyond her, beyond even the Abyss itself. She had created him, but she could not contain him. She had always known that one day, he would walk a path that no one could follow. Not gods. Not demons. Not even her.
And now, as the Heart of Singularity continued its beat in the distant cosmos, Lilith understood.
Kael would walk that path alone.
Her claws curled into the stone beneath her, the weight of her own regret pulling her deeper into the earth, into the heart of her kingdom.
But it was too late. She could no longer reach him.
Far above, in the mortal realm, the skies shimmered, stars vanished one by one like snuffed candles, and the beat came again.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
But this time, Lilith could not feel it. The connection between them had been severed, as if some invisible force had drawn a line between them, one she could no longer cross.
Whatever was coming had placed its hand upon the board. And the Queen of the Abyss, for all her fury, could no longer touch her son.
To be continued...