DUSTIN (internal monologue):
You know…
Thinking back to my time in Heaven, I was nothing special.
I wasn't one of the ranked angels like Michael or Gabriel—those celestial titans who carried the weight of divine justice on their shoulders. I didn't lead legions like Raphael or Ophania. I wasn't even a healer, the kind that moved through sacred winds, stitching light into broken souls.
No… I was just one of the many—wings folded, voice raised in eternal hymns. Day after day, singing praises to the Divine. Just another unranked angel in the chorus.
And while others were called to purpose, to battle, to duty… I just kept singing.
It was like watching your dream walk away without ever knowing you existed.
So when Lucifer whispered of something greater, I listened.
When he reached out, I took his hand.
Not because I hated the Divine.
But because I wanted to matter.
I wanted more than just to exist in song.
And so… I fell.
Arriving in Hell was a strange mix of devastation and exhilaration.
Gone was the beauty of paradise—but in its place, a realm teeming with power, ambition, and purpose. Yes, the fires burned—but we adapted. That pain became familiar. A part of us.
Lucifer had awoken long before I did. He and his chosen had already carved out a ruling class. I was nothing again.
But I didn't stop.
I did the dirty work. Caused chaos in the human realm. Battled angels on blood-soaked fields. Took missions others avoided. Anything to climb.
Eventually… I rose.
Third-ranked demon. My first taste of command. A place above the nameless. It felt like something had finally begun.
Solos. Skirmishes. Strategy.
I proved myself over and over again, until even Lucifer himself took notice.
I was offered a chance—promotion to second rank.
But that was the moment it all changed.
The upper ranks held a secret meeting. They had discovered a way to break the ancient chains of Hell—using mass sacrifices of lower-ranked demons. The cost? Unfathomable. But it worked.
The chains shattered.
And with their freedom, they revealed their true plan:
To turn humans into demons.
To wage war against Heaven. To conquer the Divine.
But I remembered something…
Something that clung to my soul from my earliest days of praise.
The Divine's power has no limit.
Their plan wasn't a conquest. It was suicide.
And then—like light piercing shadow—a miracle happened.
The Divine answered.
He extended His hand… into Hell. Offering redemption. A new army forged from the depths to protect humanity.
I had a choice.
Keep climbing the ranks in Hell…
Or return to service of the Divine.
I chose to stand with Him.
And this time…
I would not be just a voice in the chorus.
PRESENT TIME
Smoke curled across the ruined landscape.
Luvart stood—burned, bruised, but laughing. His body was cracked with zail, yet his spirit had not waned.
"AHAHAHA! Was that it?" he roared. "Disappointing. You want to know why I'm the strongest second-ranked demon?"
His eyes flared.
"It's not just my power. No, no… It's the depth of my zail. The volume of it. My zail rivals even the higher ranks. Lucifer himself chose me—not for brute strength, but to govern the second ranks. To keep order."
He stretched out his hand. A massive sphere of zail formed, pulsing like a dark sun in his palm.
"Say your final words."
Dustin said nothing. Regardless of all his zail depleting from his last attack.
"Fine. Die!"
The sphere howled through the air toward him—unstoppable.
But just before impact—it struck a wall. A glowing field of pure zail flared into existence, halting the attack.
Luvart staggered back in disbelief. Staring with his eyes wide open, his opponent's rising power.
"What?! That much zail—how are you doing this?!"
Dustin looked up, his aura(zail) swelling.
"I've tapped into something beyond you. A power given to me by the Divine."
He raised a hand, eyes burning with light.
"From this moment… the tables turn."
Luvart snarled.
"You think you're something now, do you? Just because the Divine gave you a taste of His power?! Arrogant whelp!"
"Let's find out."
They clashed—an explosion of force.
Fists blurred in the air, trading blows far faster than light. Zail lit the sky as the battlefield cracked under their weight. But something was different now.
Dustin was faster. Stronger.
He struck Luvart across the jaw, then followed with a spinning kick that sent the demon careening across the battlefield. He didn't relent. In mid-air, he caught up and delivered a devastating dropkick to Luvart's spine.
They crashed to the ground. Dustin stalked forward, grabbing Luvart by the face and slamming him into the earth. Dust exploded. He dragged him by the leg, spinning—then smashed him again like a meteor crashing into stone.
Luvart lay in a crater, gasping, eyes filled with disbelief.
Dustin stood over him—a shadow cast by divine fury.
Desperate, Luvart flared his zail to blind him. It worked, briefly. He rose and attempted his final card—possession.
But nothing happened.
Dustin's zail pulsed like a fortress.
Luvart's expression twisted in horror.
"Impossible… You're just a third rank! You can't resist me!"
And then—Dustin did the unthinkable.
He raised his hand… and Luvart's shadow tore free from the ground. It wrapped around Dustin like a mantle.
He wore it.
"Wha—What are you doing?! That's my—"
"Your own power. Your own shadow," Dustin said coldly.
"Now kneel."
Luvart collapsed forward, forced to obey.
Eyes wide, body trembling. The once proud demon now broken beneath the weight of his own weapon.
"You thought me defeating you was impossible," Dustin whispered. "But here you are… at death's door."
From the folds of shadow at his feet, Dustin summoned a blade forged in darkness and light—his sword, drawn from his own shadow.
He raised it high.
And with one final blow, brought it down.
End of Chapter 12