Dis' war room was aptly named. Anywhere one looked around the grand, oblong chamber, the spoils of war and trophies of conquest could be seen on proud display. Suits of Oni battle armour taken from the southernmost clans, throwing javelins seized from Nymph strongholds, half-assembled Imp cannons salvaged from the field of battle... And above them all, nailed into the very rock the chamber was carved from, dozens upon dozens of dull silver rings, each just over a foot in diameter.
As Lucifer stared up at the trophies he took during the Rapture, his scouting parties all shuffled about nervously in their seats. Some were lieutenants, or even captains, but all their bravado seemed to melt away when faced with the King of Demons. They just sat around the central table, hands clasped tightly before them as they stared hard into the wood grain. Dozens of maps, charts and handwritten reports were spread out before their lord, but he just continued to stare up at the halos nailed into the walls.
He took a deep breath and sighed.
"I hand-sculpted each of these continents. Aporue, Sunalos, Silatned, Angam, Mauqsun, Adileg... I know every nook and cranny they have. I made them. I kept that in mind when I charted these maps," Lucifer eventually said, looking down at all the documentation before him.
Each of the maps were covered in red markings, detailing scouting patrols, search points and townships that had appeared in the centuries since the maps had been made. Nearly every square inch of Hell's surface had been clandestinely searched. Nearly.
A captain cleared her throat.
"Yes, my lord. Sunalos, Angam and Silatned all showed no signs of Devil activity. Adileg still shows no signs of life at all. Mauqsun is still only sparsely populated, but a quick check of what settlements it had brought up nothing," she reported, staring dead ahead.
Of course. The southernmost and westernmost continents were still both wastelands in their own right; barren landscapes with nowhere to hide. Lilith wouldn't survive long in an icy desert, nor would she wish to remain upon the very field of battle where the Rapture once took place.
As for the other three, that was to be expected. The maps did detail a very thorough search on behalf of his scouting parties.
Aporue, on the other hand...
Leaning forward, Lucifer tapped a blank spot on the map of Hell's central continent.
"Care to explain this?" he asked, glaring at the captain.
"A- Ah, well... That was my call, my lord. That town... It has a reputation."
Narrowing his eyes, he glanced down at the map. There was no town there, back when he first charted that landmass. There was, however, a Devil fortification there, simply labelled "Bastion 31-3".
"Tell me about this town, then," he asked, leaning back in his chair.
"It goes by the name of Brimstone. An academic town, mostly."
"Your soldiers are scared of a town of scholars and quill-pushers? Is this some kind of joke?"
"N- No my lord, not at all! It's just... this town is the home of the Devil killer. The one that broke Diate."
Lucifer's brow furrowed. It seemed that even before he had that man's mutilated head delivered to him in a box, everyone in Dis had already heard about his violent death at the hands of an Incubus. Morale had always been low, but once rumours were spread from the soldier ranks down to the common folk in the city... Panic began to spread.
Getting out of his chair, he clasped his hands behind his back and marched over to the window, which overlooked one of the stronghold's military yards. Dozens of Devil soldiers sparred with one another out in the eternal half-gloom of Damnation. Each bore a grim look on their face, dreading the confrontation that they were being prepared for.
"Do you all understand the magnitude of the situation?" he asked softly, glancing over his shoulder at his scouting parties.
They each just murmured to one another.
"What my dearest daughter has stolen is of vital importance to our war effort. If we march without it, we may as well throw ourselves to the wolves with our teeth pulled and claws blunted."
He gestured to the map of Aporue, and the blank spot that was Brimstone.
"And yet you'd jepordise everything because of a handful of rumours?"
The captain cleared her throat, a little more dryly this time.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
"M- My lord, please... We're low in number as it is, I didn't wish to risk-"
Whirling around, Lucifer slammed his fists down upon the war table, startling everyone in the chamber.
"Of course she's going to be fucking hiding there! Rumours of a Devil killer are the perfect cover! Am I the only one in this room with a functioning brain?!" he roared, teeth bared and brow furrowed.
His soldiers turned their faces away ashamedly.
"O- Of course, my lord... Would you like us to re-initiate the search?" asked the captain, looking up from the floor.
Fists still clenched with anger, the King of Demons glanced over at the entrance to the war room. His loyal butler Fero stood by the doorway, hands clasped dutifully before him. He gave his master a nod as their crimson gazes met.
"... No. You fools have done enough. Leave me," he commanded, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms.
His scouts all responded affirmatively, gathering their reports into their arms as they dutifully filed out of the war room. Once Lucifer was left alone with his manservant, he gave Fero another nod, urging him to look to someone outside of the room and gesture for them to enter.
"Lord Lucifer will see you now," the butler stated dutifully, stepping aside.
Three Devils pushed past him and into the war room, each dressed in a distinctly different uniform.
"Ya called?" spoke the shortest of the three, a long-haired man with a scarred face and wicked smile.
He was dressed in a weathered flak jacket, and as he sauntered into the war room, he sat down in one of the chairs and propped his feet up on the table. Numerous explosive canisters clinked on his belt as he moved.
Delta.
A second, taller man stepped in and swiftly struck Delta across the back of the head. He was dressed in a more proper set of fatigues, complete with all the trappings of a foot soldier. Upon his head was a tough steel helmet that cast a long shadow across his surly face.
"Show your betters some damn respect!" he barked, saluting the King of Demons.
Beta.
The third was a woman, who wore a tough cloak over her uniform. Behind her spectacles, her eyes were ringed with dark shadows, and rather than sit near her companions, she deigned to hunker in the corner, holding a notebook at the ready as she gazed expectantly at her superior.
Gamma.
Lucifer clenched his teeth at the sight of the Alpha Corps, or at least what remained of them. Epsilon was still locked up tight deep beneath Pandemonium, and the rest were simply dead. It was a sorry state of affairs.
"Good to see you all doing well," he stated, steepling his fingers.
Delta laughed.
"Ha! Now ah know ah'm dreamin' when the boss starts butterin' us up!" he guffawed, swiveling his chair.
"You are overstepping your bounds, boy!" Beta snapped, only to be silenced by a raised hand from Lucifer.
He took a deep breath.
"I have a job for the three of you."
These words caused Delta's eyes to widen.
"Yer not serious, are ya? Are we finally gettin' back into the angel-killin' game?!" he cried excitedly, hopping up and down in his seat.
Of course. The Alpha Corps' original intention. They took their monikers in order to mock their winged foe, so they may better strike them out of the Hellish sky. Of course, they still failed in their endeavors...
"No. Pay close attention."
He slid the map of Aporue into the centre of the table. The three soldiers gathered around it, jostling for a better view.
"That unmarked spot is a town known as Brimstone. Somewhere in this miserable pile of dwellings hides my daughter. I need you three to infiltrate and bring her back. By force," instructed the Devil king, folding his arms.
Their reactions were mixed. While Beta slid the map closer in order to study it better, Delta looked up at his commander with a look of surprise. Over in the corner, Gamma looked up from her vigorous note-taking in order to add to his confused gaze.
"Ya mean... Ome's gone rogue...?" Delta asked in a dejected voice.
"Use her callsign properly, soldier! She was your superior!" Beta growled.
"Bite mah ass, Betsy!"
Lucifer sighed. The position of Omega - the squad leader of the Alpha Corps - had to be held by someone who lived and breathed devastation. Someone who could kill on a whim, tear down fortifications with a look and shatter enemy morale with a breath. Someone who could match the senseless destruction of the angels.
No-one else fit the bill but his own daughter.
"Unfortunately so. From here on, we must consider her an enemy. Ideally, I would have you bring her back alive. But if she resists..."
He took a deep, shuddering breath. He thought he could harden his heart to the situation, but deep down, Lucifer still had trouble swallowing it.
"... kill her. The prototype is all that matters."
Turning on his heel, he walked over to a heavy metal safe set into the wall. He arduously input the code, hearing the individual gears grind and creak before the lock gave with a hermetic hiss, opening to reveal a trio of long wooden crates, each branded with a sigil pertaining to a member of the Alpha Corps.
He had armouries full of weapons. But nothing like these. Personal mementos captured from the scorched battlefields of Earth, back when he had personally visited the war-torn plane over seventy years ago. Humans were pathetic in their own right, but still eerily efficient at designing weapons of war.
Setting them down upon the table, he instructed each of the soldiers to take their respective box.
"Go. Load up, and sally forth. And do not return until the mission is complete."
Despite his brash entrance, Delta looked rather uneasy as he lifted the crate into his arms. Beta just saluted Lucifer once more and praised his tactical prowess. As for Gamma, she just nodded, grabbed her weapon and left the room.
"Uh... Ah'll do mah best to get 'er back alive, m'lord," Delta murmured, hefting the crate onto his shoulder before leaving the war room.
Sighing, Beta readjusted his helmet and looked back at his commander with a resolute gaze.
"Even if those two don't fall in line, you can trust me to see the job through, my lord."
"See that you do. Dismissed."
As the last member of the Alpha Corps dutifully marched away with his armaments in hand, Lucifer returned to the window to gaze out the troops training in the yard. Despite the anger he felt at his daughter's betrayal, there was still a heavy sensation weighing deep within him.
He fought off the rebellion of the Oni battlesisters in the frozen wastes of Adileg. He held the line when the Incubus hordes were unleashed upon Pandemonium. He brought down scores of angels when the Hellish skies tore open during the Rapture. He faced the Horsemen and won. He gazed into the eyes of God and saw that they were frightened.
He did all of that without a shred of fear, doubt or hesitation.
So why, now...?