“It’s pretty great, isn’t it?” Abraxis stared at the beautiful orb full of solid violet, something dark and regal that promised a sweet embrace if only you’d surrender your identity, definition, existence. “I love it.”

“Of course you do.” Uncle pointed towards the rest of them. “This is nothing you haven’t seen before. Albagoroth already explained the only new information displayed. So,” he swiped his hand away, and all the orbs disappeared. Rather, strange intertwining lines appeared with bridges connecting the space between. “This is your bloodline, and the power contained is split into three parts. I know what all three are, but I will only tell you the first.”

“Nullification,” Abraxis finished, sighing. “I knew as much, but I wanted to know what else there was.” He tapped his foot, his nerves shot after all the events Hell had surprised him with, and then stopped once he realized he was letting his frayed nerves show. “I suppose the beauty of your presentation is the admittance of growth without giving away specifics, as if doing so would somehow change the potential growth.”

Uncle’s eyes flashed with a sharp light of surprise, aggression, and excitement. “Perceptive, Nephew. I’m truly impressed, and that doesn’t happen often.”

“Let’s get on with this then. I have places to be, things to do, and,” Abraxis checked his watch, sighing, “not enough time to do it all in.”

“Not one to waste time either,” Uncle noted, nodding. Abraxis felt as if the demon across from him was analyzing his entire being, every word choice and how he spoke them, how he held himself, and how he reacted to each provocation and new piece of information. It felt like a game, one that pushed the limits of Abraxis’ ego, identity, existence. One he admittedly loved, staring back in the jaws of an overwhelming foe and taking them head-on. “As you guessed, the first trait of the familial bloodline is nullification. Your Talent is, quite obviously, shadow manipulation. A rare trait, even amongst our family,” he muttered, nodding.

“A rare trait?” Abraxis swelled, puffing out his chest. Of course it was! “Can you tell me of the other Talents? I…” He stopped himself, almost admitting ignorance to understanding one of the key components of his power. But, alternatively, his greed, a deep desire for information, pushed him past that hesitance. “Powers and using them, it all comes instinctively to me. And I begrudgingly admit my ignorance in many fields, but,” he grinned as he pointed towards Uncle, “I don’t hold that against myself. For what I’ve been given to work with, I’m excelling.”

“You’re average on a good day.” Uncle’s biting tone and harsh, overbearing gaze… slid right off of Abraxis. The demon was just jealous he didn’t have the same opportunities as Abraxis when he was of the same Existential Ranking, obviously.

“Whatever you say,” Abraxis preened, shrugging. “What next?” He checked his watch again, doing his best to constantly process the non-pride Sin and convert all he could into Miasma to refill his Nexus. He’d expended almost everything he had in order to resist Lucifer’s domineering aura and Andariel’s lustful charm magic. He needed to buy more time, but unfortunately, time wasn’t something he could control. Yet. “From what I understand, you’re telling me a lot of things I already know about myself. This is growing to feel like a waste of time, don’t you think?”

Scoffing, Uncle leaned back, crossed one leg over the other, and clasped his hands together while regarding Abraxis with a level stare. “What did you expect from this? Truthfully, Nephew, or else.”

A brief but intense wave of focused, concentrated power was the only threat Abraxis needed to soften up to Uncle. “I don’t know. I suppose a family name, some answers to where we come from, something more insightful than telling me what I already know about myself.” He held up his hand, and a deep shadow darker than night appeared. “In this alone, I feel all the things you spoke of. My pride, my Sin, my Talent. Together, they create a power to suppress other living things, subdue their existence, and dominate their minds.

“The bloodline fueling my Sin augments that pride into something more domineering, eradicating the defenses my enemies have in place. It even allows me to nullify far greater beings’ powers than my own, such as Lucifer, and helps me break down and consume them as part of myself, fuel for growth,” Abraxis recounted his capabilities, each and every one an intimate and familiar part of himself.

Uncle stood, his eyes wider now. He paced around the room suddenly, casting Abraxis multiple looks as he muttered to himself in a language the fledgling couldn’t understand. But what it all meant didn’t fall on deaf ears, Abraxis too perceptive to let such obvious surprise and disbelief go unnoticed.

Especially when it meant that he was special, amazing, far exceeding Uncle’s expectations.

When he looked back at Abraxis, there were the same traces of surprise, aggression, and excitement from before. But this time, there was even more aggression and excitement, the surprise of Abraxis’ words apparently deafening in comparison to the other feelings that warred inside of him.

I thought he’d be more contained. This reaction is quite obvious, is it not? Whatever laws governed the distribution of information within his family, bloodline, or whatever he was a part of, it sure didn’t care much about information received through indirect means. Paraphrasing, it didn’t give a shit if Abraxis figured things out with a bit of cunning intellect. “Did something I say unsettle you, Uncle?” he asked, copying the nonchalant and dismissive pose from before.

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That got Uncle’s attention, and he stopped pacing around the room in a frantic state. Realizing how he’d just behaved, an infinite expanse settled between them as Uncle’s gaze met Abraxis’. The depths of those eyes, the power contained within, and the knowledge hiding in plain view for Abraxis to parse apart, all of it regarded him with apprehension.

The moment passed, and then Uncle returned to his cool, calm, and collected self. He smoothed out a few wrinkles in his gray uniform, took the seat across from Abraxis, and continued explaining the information available. This time, though, he had his guard up and refused to respond to anything Abraxis said. When prodded, he simply ignored Abraxis and continued explaining all the things Abraxis already knew.

Miasma was the energy of demons and the building block of Sin. Only through embodying the traits of Sin could Miasma be converted and applied as Sin, which fueled Talent. Bloodline infused all Miasma, thus why the hierarchy of Hell was one established and maintained by those with the most prominent bloodlines. It was the demon way, survival of the fittest, and would never change.

Once Uncle finished regurgitating useless information, ignoring all of Abraxis’ proposed questions, he disappeared without another informal word. His intent seemed to be to finish the deal by providing him with the minimal amount of information possible to fulfill whatever unspoken deal Abraxis and Albagoroth had agreed upon.

And then something Albagoroth said made more sense, something about him being just a creation of Uncle’s will. Was that literal? Is Albagoroth just a part of Uncle, manifested as something else?

Interesting to ponder, but upon looking at his watch, Abraxis felt a tired weight settle over his chest as he left the room, locked it with a flick of shadow magic, and then entered Lilith’s room across the hall. When he entered, he did so quietly. He hadn’t been kidding before and didn’t wish to wake Lilith before she was plenty rested. When the pretty Princess of Hell didn’t get enough sleep, she truly did become something terrifying.

Though, he could handle her, it exhausted him. A lot more than he liked, too. So as he was, drained from all the impromptu meetings with beings of power he barely conceived that spoke of other things he didn’t conceive or perceive, yeah. He was looking forward to some rest, but there was no time to rest for the wicked.

And he was oh-so wicked as he grinned at himself in front of Lilith’s full-length mirror, showing off his perfectly white teeth and stunning appearance. Even with all the chaos he’d managed to see the end of, his soul armor looked pristine—by his own design, of course. The enhancement to make sure it self-cleaned had been one he’d paid a pound of flesh for, literally, in order to get added in with the rest of the augmentations he desired.

But he digressed and finished up admiring himself. Just a second longer. One more. Yeah, now was the time. Truly finished, he turned and sat at Lilith’s bedside. This would be the last time he’d see her for a while, of that, he was certain. There were many moving parts in his plans, and he’d kept her out of more than a few.

For this, she could sit out. She’d be even more angry that he hadn’t included her than if he’d wake her from slumber too soon, but she’d get over it. She always did, and he knew she secretly bristled in lusty appreciation and prideful awe at his proactive ambitions.

The world would be his, theirs. She would sit by his side, accompany him through his path to the top, and remain his most prized trophy, his beautiful temptress of wrath. He brushed a few stray locks of hair from her face and tucked them behind her pointed ears, enamored by the smooth yet powerful feel of her skin underneath his hands.

“Sometimes, you make me feel like the luckiest demon alive, you know?” he muttered words he’d only say because she slept. She was a constant source of pride. He pushed her hard, but no harder than he pushed himself, and she surpassed his expectations time after time. “Sleep well, my betrothed.”

He planted a soft kiss on her forehead, feeling an odd sensation of warmth he wasn’t familiar with. Since he couldn’t identify it, he did as he should and ignored it. Whatever the feeling might be, it would present itself in time. Now, when he had to go face Yugmuswa, was not the time to parse hidden meanings and feelings.

No, he’d only detoured to see his betrothed to buy himself time. He needed more power, and he felt it happening. He finally processed enough ambient prideful Sin from Lucifer and broke down Andariel’s others to get enough Miasma for a growth spurt.

Warmth filled his very being as his Existential Ranking grew and he left behind his life as a fledgling to embrace the realm of a lesser fiend. A heady rush nearly took his consciousness, but he brute forced his way through the growing pains that shook his entire body. The pain was something terrible, something great, something he desired more of.

It stood for growth and another step taken towards the pinnacle, so when others would fall and flail about in a pathetic mess, Abraxis stood. Shaky legs threatened to send him face first to the ground, threatened to scrape his hands and knees and dirty his outfit as he canted forward. But he was indomitable, unbending, and took another step forward.

Then another, and another, and another until he finally reached the door back to the hall and out of Lilith’s room. He leaned on it for several seconds as body-numbing heat removed any semblance of conscious connection from his mind, body, and Nexus. The only thing that kept him aware and on his feet was pure force of will, and he’d not have it any other way.

Grinning his defiance as the sinew in his bones grew twice as much and entwined, ropey and powerful, he felt his whole body shift. Of that, his Nexus changed the most. In fact, it split in two with intersecting parts in the center, two perfectly shaped circles. Curious, he pulled at the Miasma at the center of the intersection and imbued it through his bones. A heady rush just as powerful as the initial sensation caused by the growth spurt rushed through him, but rather than making him feel like collapsing on himself, he felt invigorated to an extent he’d never experienced before.

“Oooh, this feels great!” he growled to himself, eyes glowing a dark violet. “I’ve waited so long for this, refining my Sin to the epitome, and now the day has come.” He looked at his hands, arms, legs, torso, all of himself. He’d grown a good margin, and his soul outfit, at the behest of his foresight and its size-adjustment enchantment, fit perfectly. It sculpted his new frame as if it hadn’t changed at all, but the power in Abraxis’ veins said otherwise. “Now, let’s see how Yugmuswa’s doing!”