CHAPTER 106: “I’M THE DEVIL.”

The silence stretched.

Zeus and Hades stood among the floating ruins of the broken realm—what was once Tartarus. The stars didn’t shine here. Just flickers of ghost light from dead suns, drifting in and out of the void like forgotten memories.

Zeus dropped to one knee, panting. Sparks crackled along his chest, fading now, no longer furious. His lightning had quieted.

Hades sat nearby on a floating shard, resting his scythe across his lap. His shoulders rose and fell with each breath, blood trailing from a shallow cut on his brow.

Neither spoke for a while.

The wind didn’t howl here.

There was no wind.

Only weightless silence.

Then—

Zeus chuckled, low.

Hades glanced over, his silver eyes unreadable. "...What?"

Zeus shook his head, sweat dripping down his jaw. "I honestly thought he’d outlast us."

"He almost did," Hades muttered.

Zeus looked up at the cracked sky above, streaks of pale energy bleeding through where the fabric of realms had been torn.

"The void," Zeus said. "We’re not in Olympus. Or the Underworld."

"We’re between," Hades replied. "Between domains. Between rules."

Zeus nodded, then exhaled. His voice was quieter now.

"We need to fill the gap."

Hades tilted his head slightly. "...You’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking."

Zeus glanced over. "We destroyed a concept. An entire plane. You saw what happened when we shattered it."

"The collapse."

"Yeah." Zeus wiped his mouth, staring into the dark. "That gap will call things. Things worse than Tartarus. If we leave it open, it’ll become something else."

Hades closed his eyes, breathing slowly. "...So?"

Zeus stood, a little shakily. He walked toward the center of the floating void where Tartarus had crumbled into divine dust. His voice was low.

"You have to take it."

Hades didn’t answer at first.

Then—

"I’m the God of the Underworld," he muttered. "Not the Abyss."

"Not anymore," Zeus said, turning back toward him. "You’ve already been guarding the edge of the world. This just... extends it."

Hades stared at him for a long moment.

Then he stood too.

The two brothers faced each other, both weary, both scarred.

"You sure about this?" Hades asked.

Zeus nodded. "I don’t trust anyone else."

A pause.

Then Hades looked around the floating debris.

His voice was quiet.

"...It’ll be lonely."

Zeus smirked. "You were already lonely."

Hades let out a soft, tired laugh. "Dick."

They stood there like that for a while. No throne. No audience. Just brothers—bloodied and breathing in the aftermath of war.

Then—

The sky cracked.

Not the sky above Olympus.

Not the floating fragments of this liminal space.

Something else.

A ripple bloomed in front of them.

Like ink spreading across glass.

A void inside the void.

Then it bent inward—

And collapsed—

Into a black hole.

Zeus and Hades immediately braced themselves.

"No..." Zeus muttered.

The black hole pulsed—once—then expanded outward, stretching wide into a spiraling rift with layered rings of silver fire and dark red lightning.

Then—

He stepped out.

Not floated.

Not teleported.

He stepped.

Like walking through a door.

His boots clicked against the invisible ground.

He was tall. Broad-shouldered. His hair black, falling lazily over his ears. Eyes glowing faintly red beneath long lashes. He wore a half-buttoned shirt, bloodstained, tucked into dark pants. A coat—midnight red—flowed behind him like it had a mind of its own.

He didn’t glow with divine energy.

He didn’t need to.

His presence was like a stain. Not evil. Not monstrous. Just...

Unnatural.

Familiar.

Old.

The man smiled.

A calm, unsettling grin. Like he knew everything you feared—and liked it.

Hades narrowed his eyes, scythe spinning once in his hand.

"Who the hell are you?"

The man stopped walking.

Then tilted his head with mock politeness.

"The name," he said slowly, "is Lucifer..."

He smiled wider.

"...Bloody Morningstar."

The air dropped ten degrees.

Zeus’s eyes went wide.

Not just widened.

His whole face changed.

Like something ancient had clawed its way out of his memory.

"...No," he muttered. "That’s not possible."

Lucifer walked forward another step.

Hades felt the shift and glanced back. "...You know him?"

Zeus didn’t answer.

Lucifer tilted his head, smile lingering. "Didn’t expect anyone to remember that name. Then again..." He looked directly at Zeus. "Maybe one of you does."

Zeus stared at him like he was seeing a ghost crawl out of his spine.

Lucifer’s presence didn’t explode.

It didn’t roar.

It pressed.

Heavy.

Suffocating.

Not because of power—but because of what he was.

Hades gritted his teeth. "You from the Far Realms? Or some pantheon I’ve never heard of?"

Lucifer turned to him now. "No pantheon," he said. "No realm. I don’t belong to any of the things you know."

His eyes drifted across the void like he was bored already.

"I was sealed away before any of you had words to describe gods. Before gods had names. Before divinity meant something."

Hades raised his scythe higher. "Why come here now?"

Lucifer smirked. "Because someone tore open Tartarus. And in doing so, they cracked the shell that kept me buried."

He looked at Zeus again.

"Thanks for that."

Zeus didn’t blink.

He wasn’t breathing normally.

Inside his chest, something old—something human—was screaming.

Lucifer’s name.

It didn’t sound godly.

It sounded familiar.

Too familiar.

Zeus looked at his own hands like he didn’t recognize them.

"...This can’t be," he muttered under his breath.

Lucifer’s grin grew wider.

"You remember, don’t you?" he whispered. "Even if the rest of you doesn’t."

Zeus flinched.

That one twitch confirmed it.

Lucifer saw it.

Enjoyed it.

He stepped forward again.

No threat in his step. Just presence.

"I didn’t come to fight," he said. "Not today. I just wanted to see the world again. Stretch a bit. Feel the air. Say hello."

His smile vanished in the next breath.

"But if you want a war, I can give you one."

His aura surged once.

Just once.

The void around him cracked slightly. The gravity shifted. Hades staggered half a step, shocked—not from force, but from instinct.

"What the hell are you?" Hades asked.

Lucifer tilted his head back, eyes half-lidded.

"I’m The Devil."

Then he turned his back on both of them—just like that.

Zeus finally spoke.

Not to him.

To Hades.

Voice low. Uneven.

"...He’s not a god."

Hades looked over. "Then what?"

Zeus shook his head.

"Something that existed before that word had meaning."

Lucifer turned halfway, still smiling.

"I’ll be around," he said gently. "This world looks fun. And loud. Let’s see what happens when I stop hiding."

The black hole behind him began to pulse again.

But this time... something else moved in it.

Shapes. Shadows. Unfinished things.

Lucifer glanced toward them.

And whispered something in a language that didn’t exist anymore.

The void quieted.

Then closed.

Lucifer vanished with it.

Gone.

The space stilled.

Hades looked at Zeus.

"...Who was that?"

Zeus didn’t speak.

Not for a long time.

Then—

His shoulders sank.

His eyes drifted to the black sky.

And he whispered—

"...God help us all."