Diana awoke in the hospital, her mind shrouded in confusion. Burying her head in her hands, she attempted to clear the fog slowly dissipating from her brain. Rising from the uncomfortable hospital bed, she changed into her clothes, grappling to piece together the events that led her here. Recollections flooded back—a tumultuous week, days spent in and out of court, closing multiple cases, and the previous day's peculiar incident involving a missing house. It hit her like a sudden revelation—the devastation, the mangled bodies of teenagers, and her collapse due to exhaustion and an excess of morning potions.
As Diana grappled with her thoughts, Catalina burst into song with "Es-po-sito, acaba de salir de un coma, su nombre es Esposito, todo trabajo y nada de diversión, su nombre es Esposito, nunca tiene relaciones íntimas, su nombre es Espositoooooo!”,
Catalina's entrance carried a radiant and sanguine energy, infusing life into her every gesture. Her dynamic movements seemed to sync with the vibrant spirit pulsating within her. A captivating smile lit up her face, inviting others to partake in the dance of joy it promised. Catalina, a sun-kissed package of vitality and charm, exuded magnetic energy in any space she occupied.
"Sooo, Esposito, guess who's no longer suspended?" Catalina exclaimed, interrupting Diana's reflections.
Diana, taken aback, remarked, "Not even a 'are you okay?'"
Catalina, undeterred, noted Diana's improved state and urged her, "You got more than 3 hours of sleep; you're more than okay. Come on, let's go see Angela."
Concern crept into Diana's voice as she inquired, "Is she going to be okay?"
Shrugging, Catalina nonchalantly replied, "Eh, dunno."
The door swung open again, revealing Richard. Spotting Diana, he offered a relieved smile before his gaze shifted to Catalina.
"Oh gods, not you," Richard lamented.
Catalina, undeterred by Richard's reaction, teased, "Ayy, Richy, come on, you love me. By the way, I'm back."
"What? Why? You're a goddamn public menace. Is Huang back too?" Richard retorted.
"Nah, he's in New Sodom, he went to blow off steam right after the suspension. I would've gone, but he didn't want to spot me. Which leads me to my next point—could I borrow a hundred—" Richard cut Catalina off.
"No!" Richard exclaimed firmly.
Catalina then fixed her gaze on Diana, adopting a puppy-eyed expression.
"Yeah, I'll let you borrow some money," Diana relented.
"Alright, then you're fine. Let's go check on Angela," said Richard, shifting the atmosphere of the room. They gave Diana space to change, and together, they embarked on a journey to a different wing of the hospital to inquire about Angela's condition. Diana's mind was burdened with concern, recalling the precarious state she had last seen Angela in through the mirror. What had transpired exactly?
"What happened to Angela exactly?" asked Diana, her worry palpable.
"She overchanneled; to the 3rd degree, I think. She saved our lives," Richard said, his gaze lowered.
Diana's heart sank as she understood the implications. First-degree overchanneling resulted in symptoms like increased body temperature, lightheadedness, sweating, and nosebleeds, usually manageable with rest. However, second-degree involves burning living tissue, and third-degree caused even more tissue damage, leyline breakdown both potentially leading to death. Angela might survive, but her spellcasting abilities would likely be forever altered. Diana felt fear for Angela's future but was thankful it wasn't to the fourth degree.
As they reached the hospital wing where Angela was kept, a sign read "NO CASTING." Using their badges to bypass the nurses, they entered Angela's room. Angela was connected to an IV and various runic machines, faint blue veins visible beneath her skin.
"Did they contact her family?" asked Diana.
"Her father is in and out of meetings. He said he'll swing by this evening. Her brothers are still deployed, and we haven't reached her sister yet," explained Richard.
The doctor entered the room, and all eyes turned to him.
"What's her condition?" blurted out Diana.
"We've managed to heal her as best we can, but her leylines are severely damaged. She might not be able to cast when she wakes up, and if she can, it won't be at the same level as before. Hopefully, your department covers leyline healing. It won't be cheap," the doctor stated matter-of-factly.
Diana felt a sense of relief. While Angela's aetheric abilities had suffered, it was a far better outcome than the alternative.
The doctor turned to Richard. "Is this what you wanted to see me about, detective?"
"No, just wanted to know if you could tell me which of the unconscious students are over 18. This would help with our investigation," said Richard.
"Okay, I'll have a nurse get back to you on that," replied the doctor before turning to Diana. "As for you, we've given you some restorative salves, but be careful with your morning potion intake."
Diana, Richard, and Catalina stole one last glance at Angela in her hospital room before venturing out to continue their investigation. The hospital's cold corridors echoed with their footsteps as they delved into the unfolding situation.
“Only a few of them are 18 years old, so your prognostication won’t cover all of them. Fortunately, the kids who lived in that mansion fall into that category,” Richard informed Diana.
Diana nodded, her thoughts seemingly lost in contemplation.
“There's something else. Amongst the students, there was a homunculus. Its owner, one Theo Marvel, retrieved it around 6 am. He’s set for interrogation at 2 pm. If you're not done by 1 pm, I’ll swing by the station,” Richard explained.
“Well, I’m not waiting around here. I’ll go check out the scene. Adios,” Catalina declared, striding away. Richard considered stopping her but opted to let her unveil the surprise on her own.
As they approached the hospital wing housing the unconscious students, they sought out the doctor to get a rundown of the conditions.
“We're slightly unsure. We’ve healed all the injured ones, but they’re not emerging from their coma. No sign of any spell's influence either,” the doctor explained.
Richard nodded politely. “Don’t worry; we’ll take it from here.”
Walking away, Richard turned to Diana, whispering, “Did you hear that? Not under the influence of any spell. You know what I’m thinking?”
“They were in hell, so it could be a demonic art of some sort,” said Diana nervously.
“Wow, how do you know what those are?” Richard asked, taken aback.
Exasperated by Richard’s condescension, Diana replied, “I helped you study for your invocation finals. Remember, I picked up a few things.”
Entering Erick’s hospital room, he slept soundly, the ECG beeping steadily. Richard gestured to Diana as she approached Erick, her heart quickening. Her breaths grew heavy, and Richard turned to her, curious.
“Something wrong, Esposito?” Richard inquired.
“It’s probably still the morning potions,” Diana reasoned.
Approaching Erick, she intoned, “Mihi suam fabulam revela.”
She saw a 9-year-old Erick at a funeral, a red-haired girl of the same age softly sobbing beside him. This wasn’t what Diana sought. Trying again, Erick and the girl were eating dinner alone in a vast, empty mansion. No, not it. Diana needed something more recent. She cast again; a 17-year-old Erick spoke with his father, who mentioned being gone for the next few months, possibly missing his birthday. Birthday! Diana knew she was getting closer. Casting again, Erick drank with friends in the mansion's hallway. This was it, the night Diana was searching for.
The scene settled, Erick surrounded by friends—Penelope, Josh, Jenkins, and Alexander.
“Hey, anyone seen Federica?” slurred Erick.
“She was in the kitchen with Cynthia and me when the party started but I haven’t seen her since then,” Penelope replied.
“Yeah, I’d be feinin for the Bday BJ too, bro,” laughed Jenkins.
Suddenly, Diana couldn’t see anything. She couldn’t even leave the spell; she felt trapped, suffocated.
A distinguished voice spoke, “It is most unbecoming for an enforcer of the law to engage in the act of spying upon one's private memories. I firmly believe we are all entitled to a modicum of privacy, a sanctuary for our thoughts and recollections.”
Diana broke free—or it was more like she was allowed to. She breathed heavily, retreating from Erick.
“Hey, are you okay?” Richard asked.
But Diana did not respond. She was focused on the voice she heard. It was very familiar; she was sure she heard it recently too. It then struck her; it was the same voice as the demon with whom Rebecca made a deal to come back to the surface.
“Hey, Diana!” Richard shouted, filled with worry.
Diana was taken aback. “I think that kid might have made a deal with a demon,” she slowly uttered.
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Cynthia found herself sinking into the umbra, surrounded by a void devoid of light, sound, or thought—a profound emptiness. Was this death? No, for that which is not alive cannot die. Yet, she was not alone in the umbra; a small ember accompanied her.
Awakening abruptly, Cynthia discovered herself in a pod, submerged in a viscous fluid that allowed her to breathe. Memories flooded back; she hadn't experienced this since her birth. However, a question lingered—what had happened? Attempting to recall sent searing pain through her synapses, but amidst the agony, she grasped a memory of a distinguished man with demonic eyes. Overwhelmed, she ceased her efforts to recollect, her eyes scanning the surroundings of the pod. The clear viscous liquid made everything blurry, hindering her from seeing the environs. Muffled steps approached, and despite the anticipation of encountering her father or Galatea, an unexpected fear gripped her. Fear? Why?
The viscous liquid drained, and the pod opened, revealing Galatea's doll-like smile behind the glass. Cynthia emerged, and Galatea handed her clothes and a towel.
“Hello, Cynthia. I hope you had a pleasant recovery. Father was quite worried about you,” Galatea greeted.
“Why? What happened?” Cynthia inquired.
“Well, I don’t know, but when you were found, you were almost out of operation,” Galatea explained.
Cynthia needed a moment to process. She was almost "dead"—though, as an artificial being, death wasn’t the accurate term. Regardless, it was her "life."
“I see,” Cynthia whispered, her eyes wide, as she wiped herself off and got dressed.
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Galatea asked.
“I was at the party, drinking in the kitchen, and then nothing... except a man with strange eyes. That’s all,” Cynthia recalled.
Galatea listened intently.
“Maybe the other people at the party know. I didn’t know I could get this drunk. Father must be furious,” Cynthia lamented.
Galatea's face maintained its usual enigmatic smile but tilted in intrigue.
“You seem different,” Galatea noted.
“Different how?” Cynthia inquired.
“I don’t know, but you seem more like Master Theo,” Galatea observed.
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The laboratory doors opened, and Theo entered, slowly approaching Cynthia. Galatea turned to Theo.
“She doesn’t seem to remember what happened to her,” Galatea informed.
“Hmm, really. You were in quite a dire state—cuts, burns, even missing an arm,” Theo remarked.
Cynthia examined her entire body; there was nothing amiss. It was unfathomable that she could have returned from such a state.
“Don’t worry. As long as your brain stays intact, I can always repair any of you. Now, I have to be interviewed by the police, as they want to know if you were involved in what happened,” Theo explained.
“What happened exactly?” Cynthia questioned.
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image [https://i.ibb.co/jGXs3g0/d7b69ce8-a53c-41ee-8a57-d5ce6ffa2dfb.jpg]
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Catalina relished the smooth journey in her car, savoring a bagel as she casually made a left turn. Suddenly, she found herself in the Frey Neighborhood, an area that exuded an air of affluence. Intrigued, she ventured deeper into the suburb. Abruptly, ash clouds enveloped her windshield, only to disperse and reveal a hauntingly desolate scene. The once picturesque neighborhood now lay in ruins, with cars and houses reduced to ashes. Amidst the devastation stood a foreboding mansion, swarming with law enforcement and onlookers, cordoned off by runic yellow tape.
Undeterred, Catalina parked her car and confidently presented her badge to the uniformed officers, granting her entry into the eerie mansion. Once inside, a gruesome tableau unfolded before her – bloodstains splattered the surroundings, markings on the floor outlined numerous bodies. As she absorbed the chilling scene, a mysterious man in a nondescript suit approached her.
In a matter-of-fact tone, he inquired, "Who might you be?"
Flashing her badge, Catalina identified herself, "Detective Alvarado. You?"
The man responded, "Special Agent [redacted]."
Catalina blinked, as if the agent’s name had vanished from her mind just as quickly as she heard it. She narrowed her eyes.
"Are you a fed?" she asked.
"Yes. Can I inquire about your presence here, Detective Alvarado?" the agent responded.
Catalina explained, "I came to inspect the scene. My colleagues responded to the call, and I thought I could lend a hand."
The agent, unimpressed, countered, "Unfortunately, you haven't been granted clearance. Didn't Detective Gautier inform you?"
Caught off guard, Catalina thought, no, he didn't. Why didn't he? Is he mad because I asked to borrow money? That guy needs to learn to relax. Frustrated but resigned, she bid farewell, "Okay then, adios," before walking away.
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Diana eased onto her hospital bed, breaths escaping heavily, and beads of sweat streaming down her forehead. She surrendered to fatigue, closing her eyes, as Richard lingered at her side, his expression etched with intense concentration.
"So, the others experienced the same blackout in hell after being transported?" Richard inquired.
"Yeah, it's strange... Did they all make a deal with that demon?" Diana responded, her breaths weighed down by exhaustion.
"And what about that girl, Penelope Scarlet? What's your plan with her?" Richard pressed.
"I'll just have a conversation with her," Diana replied between labored breaths.
"Alright, I'll leave that to you. Rest up; I have to interrogate Theo Marvel. You could use more rest; you're still a bit weak," Richard advised before heading towards the exit. Diana made no objections, closing her eyes as she heard the door close behind him.
Her mind raced with the information she had gleaned through her prognostication spell on the affected students. Something had triggered the descent of the house into hell, a mystery yet to be unraveled. Starting from outside the school, Thomas initially appeared suspicious, but her divination revealed he was merely there due to a party expulsion.
As they continued investigating, the students, all in comas, presented an enigma. Diana hypothesized a demonic art as the cause, given the absence of physical or ethereal abnormalities. Another pressing concern was the demon that surfaced during the incident. It remained at large, posing a potential threat.
Then there was Penelope, a tragic figure in this unfolding drama. Diana couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her. As her thoughts meandered through the complexities of the situation, fatigue overcame her, and she succumbed to a drifting sleep, anticipating the challenges that awaited upon waking.
Diana found herself standing amidst a desolate wasteland, where seven towering pillars reached towards the obscured sky. Each pillar bore a distinct composition, weaving a surreal tapestry of darkness. The first, sculpted from ice, cradled a pale, red-haired woman atop it, her attire fashioned from sinuous snakes. Another pillar, crafted from the remnants of deceased rats, hosted a muscular, bearded man surrounded by swirling flies. A third, composed of burning oil in perpetual motion, supported a woman with a visage divided between two faces, draped in the pelts of foxes. The fourth pillar, ablaze with fire and brimstone, elevated a woman with silky hair, her sole attire consisting of black feathers. The next, fashioned from bloodied wheels, presented a confident man wearing a lion's head as a crown.
Continuing the macabre display, a pillar entwined with snakes bore an anxious man adorned in a bear's pelt. The final pillar, constructed from severed limbs, upheld a muscular ebony man wearing the pelt of a wolf. Diana gazed upward, where a voice resonated through the desolate expanse.
"Seven spirits for the nascent prince beneath the columns of vice, one itinerant heeding the summons. Four resilient transgressors ascend to sovereignty under a fresh edict, a myriad serpents snapping at the heel. The erstwhile fallen knight metamorphoses into the divine," echoed the haunting voice from above.
"Wake up," reverberated the command in Diana's ears, forcefully wrenching her from the clutches of a vivid nightmare. As she began to stir, her gaze fell upon her hands, where she keenly felt the Aether's flawless choreography through her leylines. Every cell in her body throbbed with vitality, a telltale sign – attunement.
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image [https://i.ibb.co/DLZcSQn/e31fad1f-feee-4bce-b038-cedd8b4b0990.jpg]
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In the ensuing moments, a cascade of questions inundated her thoughts. Had she attuned before or after the disquieting dream? The answer materialized with sudden clarity; it occurred before. A quick glance in the mirror validated it, the azure flames of Aether flickering within her eyes. Pausing to acknowledge the silent guidance of the Aether, she stood and retraced her steps to Erick's room. The door creaked open, revealing a figure positioned by the bedside.
Solomon exuded an enigmatic presence. His impeccably trimmed goatee and flawlessly fitted suit bespoke a meticulous precision. Eyes radiating piercing intellect held a commanding aura, subtly tinged with condescension. As those eyes met Diana's, amazement yielded to curiosity.
"Attunement, amazing. I’ve never had the pleasure myself. Tell me, is this your first time? I’ve read studies suggesting attunement is not a singular event," Solomon remarked.
"Second time, Solomon Blaze, I presume?" Diana queried.
"Yes. Do you know that because you're a detective or due to your attunement?" Solomon inquired.
"A bit of both, really. But I need to question you about..." Diana began, only to be interrupted.
"Why question when you’re attuned to your main aspect, prognostication, I presume? All you need to do is wait to see what the Aether tells," Solomon interjected.
He had a point; little could be concealed during this attuned moment. Listening, she posed a question. "Was your library secure?"
"Absolutely. I only permitted my son and niece access when I was home," Solomon affirmed.
"How was it secured precisely?" Diana probed.
"Oh, I hired a runic company. They provide runic security and other services," Solomon disclosed.
Aether whispered truths to Diana; the runes in his security system hadn't been disabled, but rather, they had failed. Could Richard have been right all along? The glimmer of Aether in her eyes faded, and so did her attunement.
"And just like that, a great mage is gone. I am aware of my son and niece's condition, but what exactly happened?" Solomon inquired.
"Well, all we know is that your house was transported to hell and back. But if you'd excuse me, I have to go," Diana declared before hurrying out of the room.
Solomon made a call before leaving Erick’s room, his enigmatic presence lingering.
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Richard pulled up a chair for Theo to sit, the chair proving a tad wobbly, much like the unsteady table before them. The light in the interrogation room emitted an off-color glow, flickering intermittently. Despite the room's lack of windows and the sealed door, an uncomfortable cold breeze pervaded the space. Seating himself opposite Theo, Richard placed photos of Cynthia's battered body on the shaky table.
"So, Mr. Marvel, as the CEO of AlchymaLife Studios, a prominent homunculus-producing company, care to explain why we discovered one of your homunculi in a house filled with dead and injured students?" Richard inquired.
"Are you serious? That's why you brought me down here?" questioned Theo.
"Just ensuring we cover all bases; this is an ongoing investigation," Richard replied.
"Well, if you're asking, you might not be aware, but we occasionally field test our homunculi to enhance their believability. We check if they can pass as other people. Most of the time, they get found out, but not my little Cynthia here—she's quite the creation," Theo explained.
Richard was taken aback. "Surely, that can't be legal."
"The bill passed ten years ago," Theo asserted.
Although skeptical, Richard found himself in an interrogation room with Theo. On the other side of the one-way mirrors, someone was casting a truth spell, making it impossible for Theo to lie, as he would also have had to removed all runic items before entering the precinct and undergone a potion screening.
"Your homunculus is a bit different from the others. It has leylines, allowing it to cast spells. A prototype, I assume?" Richard probed.
"Yes, I would appreciate it if all findings regarding her were sealed once your investigation is over. After all, if one of my competitors got hold of this information, it wouldn't be great for me or your department," Theo proposed.
"My department?" questioned Richard.
"Yes, of course. I'd have to sue for financial damages," Theo warned.
"Let's try to avoid that. Has your homunculus ever exhibited violent behavior or caused harm to an actual human?" Richard inquired.
"For behavior, she might have a tone and manner of speaking that some people could classify as blunt or rude. Unless in a dueling context, she hasn't harmed anyone," Theo responded.
"How many circles can her leyline allow her to cast spells to, exactly?" Richard questioned.
"For now, she can cast up to two-circled spells safely, and three circles if she overchannels a tad," Theo explained.
"Interesting. What aspects?" Richard asked.
"Alteration, Aetheromancy, and Evocation," Theo listed.
"No Invocation?" Richard probed.
They were both abruptly interrupted by the shrill ring of Richard’s phone. A glance at the caller ID revealed that it was Diana on the line.
“Excuse me,” Richard declared, stepping out to answer the call. As he made his way out, Catalina emerged from the opposite side.
“Mama wevo, what are you doing, answering a call during an interrogation?” Catalina queried.
Richard gestured for Catalina to hold on, and he answered the call. His demeanor transformed from stern concentration to a smirk that revealed his triumph as he absorbed the information from Diana. After hanging up, he returned to the room, extending his card to Theo.
"You're free to go, Mr. Marvel. There's been a new development in the case. Call me if you think of anything," Richard announced with a newfound sense of purpose. Leaving the room, he strode towards Captain Connors's office. Upon entering, it was evident that the captain had been anticipating his arrival.
“I’ve already received Detective Esposito’s call. This doesn’t prove your theory, just makes it more plausible,” Captain Connors asserted.
“Sure, okay,” Richard responded nonchalantly.
“Get back to the mansion. Esposito will be waiting for you. She hasn’t analyzed that place yet. And bring Catalina with you,” Captain Connors instructed, his tone leaving little room for negotiation.
Richard's car eased to a stop amid the desolation enveloping the Blaze residence. As both Richard and Catalina emerged from the car, a familiar bickering session commenced.
"You owe me a new donut," Catalina asserted.
"I told you, no food in the car," retorted Richard.
"I haven’t eaten all day," Catalina pleaded.
"Sounds like your problem," Richard dismissed.
Diana approached them, weariness etched across her face. "Guys, not now," she interjected. The bickering ceased as they followed Diana into the eerie mansion, flashing their badges to cross the yellow runic tape. In the living room, Catalina surveyed the bloodstains and forensic tape while a nondescript man approached them.
“Good to see you again, Detective Gautier,” greeted the man.
“Have you found any evidence of cultist activity?” Richard inquired.
“No, not yet. Anything new from your end?” the man responded.
“Yes, actually. We just need to verify something,” Richard replied, a cocky smirk playing on his lips.
Diana sighed. "Let's just get on with it."
The trio of detectives proceeded to the basement. Diana, focused on the fuse box, verified that the runes had simply failed rather than being disabled. Her prognostication spell confirmed that a few fuses had given out, leaving the library unprotected and the mansion's countermeasure system inactive—potentially costing the students their lives.
Moving to the library, the detectives found books scattered haphazardly across the room. Diana, deep in thought, sat down.
“Mihi suam fabulam revela,” she chanted.
In her vision, Diana witnessed Federica attempting to cast a spell from one of the books. The spell backfired, the Aether surged through her, and then darkness enveloped her.
Diana sighed, and Richard, understanding the situation, exclaimed, “So, I was right. Well, well, well. Of course, the best detective had the correct theory. I can't wait until Angela wakes up.”
"This is gonna last another month, isn’t it?" Catalina remarked.
"Yep," Richard confirmed, sporting a cocky grin.
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The sky bore a darkened red hue, as imps flitted around a desolate landscape filled with demonic horrors. A gathering of these infernal entities surrounded a lake of blood, resembling an oasis in a nightmarish desert. The stench of sulfur hung heavy in the air, while the howls and cackles of imps echoed throughout the hellish expanse. Though the vast landscape was expansive, the suffocating heat felt akin to being trapped in an oven.
For Federica, possessed and hovering over this infernal realm, it felt like home. She soared towards a towering black mountain adorned with thousands of seemingly lifeless bodies. Upon a gruesome throne sat a barbaric-looking figure with great bloody horns, indulging in what seemed like a meal. Federica landed in front of the demon, observing his use of a hollowed-out skull as a bowl, small bones as chopsticks, and intestines consumed like noodles. The demon paused, taking notice of Federica.
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image [https://i.ibb.co/N7wHmzp/17b0d4c0-dd28-41c4-977b-b12eb6ea5b56.jpg]
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“RANK?” he bellowed.
“Legionnaire,” she responded.
“What do you want?” the demon inquired.
“Your throne, Abaddon. This body I've acquired is like nothing you’ve ever seen before,” declared the possessed Federica.
Abaddon slurped the guts and discarded the skull. “It’s been a while since a no-name little shit DARED to challenge me!” he thundered.
Nine arcane circles formed around the possessed Federica as she conjured a gigantic sword made of pure Aether. The solid Aether resembled a transparent blue crystal, radiating azure flames.
“After I kill you, I’ll have a name of my own,” she grinned wickedly.
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image [https://i.ibb.co/K0tjxbM/99381f02-d8d2-4fbe-931d-356c513e76b5.jpg]
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In a swift motion, the gigantic sword cl Abaddon, splitting him in half. The victory seemed too easy, thought the demon inhabiting Federica.
“You know, most demons think these are my victims, but no, I just like to have spares,” remarked an elven-like creature, now possessed by Abaddon, rising from the ground. Simultaneously, all the other bodies that lay dormant up the mountain suddenly rose.