CHAPTER 252: CHAPTER 253: BABYLON PART 1

DOOOM!!!

DOOM!!

The echo of sound-shattering waves rolled and tore through the bruised, low-hanging clouds, making the sky itself feel like a drum stretched too tight. Atlas gripped the demon in one hand, Veil in the other, his body a spear slicing through the air, flying perfectly horizontal.

The pressure warped around them—wind screaming, air hammering—both of his captives twisting and wobbling in his grip, their weight swaying like pendulums in the violent slipstream.

Aurora sat perched on his back as if she were seated on a throne carried by invisible hands.

Her hair, long and ink-slick, didn’t whip in the wind. Her body didn’t shudder under the force. Not even the edges of her robes stirred. It was like the violence of motion bent itself around her, obeying a private rule that denied her the indignity of turbulence.

A neat little trick of her own.

"...This is EPIIICCC!!!" Aurora belted out, her voice a comet-tail of glee tearing through the roar of wind. She had flown before—floated, levitated—but never like this. Never riding raw velocity that made the air taste metallic in the mouth.

The force rattled her bones in a way she didn’t hate. In fact, she savored it—deep in her core, where delight and danger shared the same pulse.

’...I’ll have to work on flight magic more...’ Her thoughts sparked in rapid succession, each one another strike of inspiration. The sensation was a drug, the sky a chalice, and she was already planning her next sip.

"Wllljdkkskmel...."

{Zzziiillkskajjj..}

Atlas’s lips pulled into a sneer—not mocking, but reflexive—like the body’s instinctive response to something too good. He didn’t know if this counted as flying or falling sideways at impossible speed, but the sensation... the sensation was supreme.

{...tthheeeree...} Azazel’s voice ground through the wind, his arm lifting with difficulty against the force, clawed finger jutting toward the horizon.

Far away, the horizon broke. Not into a line, but into a wall. A wall so impossibly long it could be mistaken for a chained range of mountains—except mountains didn’t stand that smooth, that deliberate. It stretched until it dissolved into haze, reaching upward so high it seemed to pierce the pulsing fabric of the sky itself.

The sight made the air around them feel heavier, as though the atmosphere bent to its presence.

"That’s really fuckinggg talllll and big!" Atlas shouted over the wind, golden eyes catching on its pale edges.

"...For a reason!" Aurora called back without turning her head.

"For what?!"

"...You’ll see!"

He kept their trajectory, but began to slow, the crackling speed folding back into the ordinary violence of wind. The two he carried gulped at the sudden softness of air, like drowning men breaking the surface.

Atlas’s gaze flicked over the sky—half from habit, half from suspicion. His instinct whispered that the Fallen would come. In stories, the trouble you left behind always found a way to catch up. But the sky above was empty.

"I know what you’re thinking," Aurora’s voice reached him, a ribbon of sound that coiled neatly in the ear.

"...Why are you so easy to read?"

"Then please... tell me... oh great and mighty sage."

Thud!

His head rocked forward as her knuckles met the back of his skull.

"You know me and Master are trying to reach that stage—"

"...Sorry, sorry. Sensitive topic, I guess—"

Thud. Thud. Thud.

She didn’t need to hit hard; the repetition was the sting.

"Where was I... Yeah. You’re wondering why the sky’s so clear. No monsters. No anything.

While the mortal realm has every breed of nightmare swarming above it like a rot that breathes...

Here in Hell? It’s too clear."

’...Well... I was actually thinking about the Fallen... but I’ll let her continue.’ He adjusted his grip on Veil, feeling the demon’s sluggish pulse against his palm.

"It’s because the sky belongs to the Demon Empress A@$@%%%." Aurora’s tone dropped, losing its playfulness. "And if any being even dares to cross her domain without permission... they’ll pay something far worse than their soul."

Atlas thought about asking. As HE was flying. Curiosity tickled him like a fly at the nape of his neck. But he knew how that would go—Aurora answering in a way that made him wish he’d stayed ignorant.

"...Oh, we’re near. Slow down, Atlas." She patted his shoulder like she was calming a beast.

He bled off more speed, the howl of wind subsiding into a low, steady moan.

The wall was a continent’s worth of stone and steel fused together, but now, cresting nearer, he saw the world beyond it. His eyes widened—not just from scale, but from contrast.

The lands inside didn’t match his idea of Hell at all. No endless wasteland, no rivers of blood. Instead—

"...Wow," he breathed. "...Are those dwarves? ...Are those... fox people?"

It wasn’t chaos—it was strange harmony. Beings of different shapes and sizes moving through streets, tending stalls, sharing space without devouring each other.

Not what he’d been led to believe.

Even in the game, Lara had never encountered this—her Hell was all ruin and ash. This... this was a lie wrapped in beauty.

They reached the top of the wall. A figure awaited—a lizard-shaped demon standing upright, armored in plates like overlapping shale. His stance radiated the unshakable patience of a gate carved into living flesh.

The guard turned at their approach. His slit-pupil eyes took them in. Recognition struck like a spark in dry grass.

In a single motion, he dropped to one knee, the sound of his armor kissing stone sharp in the air.

As his thoughts reined as no fool would even try to fly the sky and if somebody did. Then they must be...

"Oh, we welcome the followers of the Sky Empress," he rasped, his long tongue flicking between the words like a signature flourish of deference.

********

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