CHAPTER 188: MAGNIFIQUE

Sophie Moon was rummaging through a trash can. A big smile was plastered over her tired visage.

She wore no gloves, nor a facemask to seek solace from the awful smell.

"Found it!"

Snatching it from between a rotting skeleton of fish and a wet diaper, she clutched the piece of paper tightly in her hand.

Her eyes scanned its content furiously.

"I have never seen him go out with a woman," Belphegor says. "I have only seen him bring them into his house."

Still shocked, Beelzebub says, "Huh, good for him. Out of the seven of us, I never thought he would be the first to act like an actual human being."

In thought, Belphegor whispers, "Really? I always thought him to be the most normal of us seven." In his eyes, a deep sadness was evident.

Sophie looked slightly confused. "Is that what Belphegor said?"

She couldn’t remember it.

"I’m sure it was something different."

Scene cuts to Lucifer. He is in a car with his right-hand man, who informs him about there being no progress in the ongoing investigation by the police into the murder of the Altobelli captain.

He also has some news about a restaurant co-owned by Beelzebub and Belphegor. "Beelzebub has been embezzling funds from the restaurant," he informs Lucifer. This shocks Lucifer as those two have been together in every scene.

The right-hand man asks if Lucifer wants him to inform Belphegor.

But Lucifer shakes his head. He says if his brother can’t even protect his own property, then he isn’t worthy of his seat as one of the seven bosses.

Does anyone else know? Lucifer asks. The right-hand man pauses before answering. "Leviathan seems to know."

"Why did I never name this character?" Sophie scratched her itching temples. "Right-hand man sounds funny."

Scene cuts to Leviathan, who is found by Satan and Mammon and is dragged to an empty alley.

But here lay the twist.

Leviathan, always envious of Asmodeus for his carnal freedom, brothels, and gambling dens, asks them to involve him in their plans to kill Asmodeus. He offers his support and information on the condition that he would receive a part of Asmodeu’s business.

Mammon sees him as a useful piece, and Satan could certainly use the help. Both readily agree.

"Did it progress like this?"

No matter how hard she tried, she was drawing a blank.

Asmodeus’s subordinate informs him that it was Leviathan who kidnapped his prostitute.

"The tone and direction are slightly different from the final product."

She would have found it natural any other time, but since the whole ordeal with her diary and dreams began, she had some suspicions.

Her phone was ringing, but she ignored it. She didn’t need any of that as long as she had her diary.

Yes, she needed her diary.

"It’s as if someone has left gaps for me to fill, as if they couldn’t even bother to write something more complete."

***

The angel of Peter’s Gate, the guardian of Purgatory, had come face to face with a familiar foe in a strange land.

"Why do you occupy this plane?" The angel glared down at the ancient creature hovering over the grey surface with his legs crossed. "This isn’t your domain."

"Neither is it yours." Lucifer opened his eyes. "Yet you barge in here with the enthusiasm of a groom visiting his bride on the wedding night."

The angel floated down, the hole in the sky—the entrance—closing behind him.

"Land, sea, or sky—as long as it exists, it is owed to our lord."

Lucifer’s lips curled up, his eyes grinning mockingly. The horns on his head twitched for blood.

"But the disgraced poets sing and Hell knows: trumpets no more sound over the horizon of Heaven."

He proclaimed, his eyes radical and his voice boisterous, "Your lord is dead."

He raised a finger towards the Heavens above.

"And men say, ’We killed God.’"

The angel’s grasp on his sword tightened. "God cannot die. His will is his existence, his word a command for our order. As we persist, so shall his commandments."

"And yet, he remains silent."

The retort came with consequences.

The blueish-pink sky shook as if it were being torn apart.

The angel pointed his naked sword at Lucifer, his eyes spewing light in every direction.

"The war may have ended, but my duty has not."

The next moment, he was in front of the ancient creature, his glowing blade inches away from sundering the figure made of saggy flesh.

A frightening shockwave pulverized the air. At its epicentre was the devil holding the angel’s sword in his open palm.

His eyes were spewing malice. "Do you suppose you could cut me?"

His red pupils gazed into the angel’s fears. Drawing on them, he tried to shatter his mind.

But strong was the divine being sanctioned by God. His body was built through faith, and his sword was forged to reform the sinful.

A flash of heat emitted from his eyes, consuming his sword and scorching the palms of the Warden of Hell.

"Heretic!" cried out the angel, his wings flapping in anger. "Heretic!"

The chant filled the plane.

"Madness is your sin." Lucifer curled his fingers around the blade. "You have lost sight of reality, mistaking your superior for a heretic."

He pulled back his other hand in a fist.

"I am the son of God, his creation and his exile."

The fist landed on the torso of the angel.

In that singular moment, where both of their eyes met and thoughts were traded, one of many possibilities, a sinful future, was chosen.

Guts flew into the air as the skies shook and divinity spilled into the domain. Feathers, glowing a radiant white, scattered and floated up towards the Heavens.

They passed through the ceiling of Lilith’s Womb, flying towards their home.

Watching it, Lucifer pinned the angel’s head under his foot.

"What have you planned for that sinner?" With a hole in his abdomen, the angel resisted but couldn’t escape the creature’s grasp. "What conspiracy have you woven now, snake? Who is left to usurp?"

"Your order has lost its influence, its power. Yet you remain ever so persistent in your arrogance. Perhaps, yours is the true sin."

He pushed the angel’s head under the surface of the grey liquid.

"Serve as nourishment for this domain and its creator. Perish in Lilith’s Womb."

As the angel’s right eye submerged under the surface, divinity seeped into the liquid.

"This, too, is the will of my lord."

He could no longer see, and a second later, he would not hear.

"So it is done. Forever remain, the Kingdom of Heaven."

***

After minutes of stilled breaths and absolute silence, the director approached Averie’s still figure on the set.

"Magnifique! C’est formidable! C’est merveilleux!"

The take had ended, and the director had no need for another. No, he did not want another. It was all there, and it was magnificent. He would not disrespect such a performance with another take.

He stood before Averie, shaking from head to toe and wanting to converse. It was something he had never seen. It was something he wished he would never see, because once was brilliance; twice was madness.

He had questions and praises. Such enthusiasm was not common to him, but he was not a man who would hold back such overwhelming admiration.

’Oh, how lucky I am to meet such a talent...’

Yet he did not find the overly confident actor he had grown to love.

Averie was not there; only The Lady with her smiled remained.

It was only after seven minutes of pandemonium that the actor managed to take a seat. It was the first sign of recovery, sparking hope in the entire crew. And only after half an hour had passed, did he slowly emerge from the role.

Later, when things seemed to have calmed down, Benoit approached Averie.

’Is he sick?’

The younger actor was sweating extremely hard.

’Or is this what it takes to bring magic to existence?’

Averie noticed the older actor while he was mindlessly massaging his lower ribs, feeling the marks left by the corset. It had been loosened, and the lingering pain felt taxing yet pleasurable.

The older actor wanted to bring it up with some level of dignity, but it seemed like Averie couldn’t handle a long and cautious conversation.

Abandoning his pride, Benoit asked, "Would you be kind as to tell me how you did it?"

Averie raised his hand and snapped his fingers.

But no sound was emitted.

He tried again, yet a failure it remained.

This continued on for a while, prompting the staff and crew to look away. Even Min-Ha and Hyerin began whistling and admiring the bland ceiling.

It was awkward, yet Averie would not stop.

"Anyway," — He cleared his throat after ten minutes of pain — "it’s not something that can be put into words."

And even if he could, he wouldn’t.

To him, every actor’s role was to admire his genius and replicate him with failure every step of the way.

’Why would I divulge my secrets, the years of torture?’

It felt like a shame to allow them to experience his brilliance without any of his trials.

Benoit nodded regretfully. "Then, may I ask, what it was?"

Averie was confused. "What else could it be? It was a brilliant performance."