“Don’t fucking move, Lilith; I am not playing around,” Art snarled, and I glared at him, letting him see how much I hated him.
He was completely unphased and moved forward, unbinding my hands. Each of the angels grabbed a wrist, manifesting wings from their backs. They flew up to the center of the cross, and I hung between them, my shoulders screaming as the full weight of my body dangled in the air. The angels slammed my arms against each side of the cross while Art transformed into his snake form. I watched in horror as he rose up so his human torso was level with mine. He was now holding a mallet and three long, golden stakes.
“Which hand should I do first, Lilith?” he asked, his tone cruel and cold.
I winced as the weight of my body continued to strain my shoulder joints, and Art chuckled. “You think it hurts now? Wait until the only things holding you up are these fucking nails hammered through your pretty little palms,” he sneered.
The angel on my right forced me to open my hand flat as Art placed the tip of one of the stakes against my palm.
“Ramel is going to kill you,” I hissed, knowing in my heart that he would tear Heaven down to Hell with his bare hands if he had to.
“No, Lilith.Iam going to killhim,” Art promised as he swung the hammer back and slammed it ruthlessly into the end of the stake. Pain like I had never experienced before exploded down my arm as I was impaled by the large golden nail. Even my pride couldn’t keep me from screaming as Art continued to hammer the stake home.
My head lolled, and my vision cut in and out of focus as he moved to the other hand. The angels tied my wrists to the wooden planks for more support as I realizedin my weakened state, that the weight of my body very well may have torn the nails right through my palms.
As Art continued to crucify me, I found myself staring at Hypnos on the cross next to me. My screams seemed to have roused him from his slumber. He blinked at me, bleary-eyed.
‘Lilith?’His mouth moved, but no sound came out. I had never officially met Hypnos, but I had read about him in Hell’s library. I assumed he had also read about me. I nodded at him thickly. My body had begun to succumb to the numbness of shock, and I was no longer able to feel the pain of Art’s relentless hammering.
I stared into Hypnos’ eyes, finding comfort in the fact that I wasn’t alone. He stared back until there was suddenly an echoing boom. The God of Sleep tore his midnight eyes from mine, and his head snapped to look out at the seemingly endless crowd of angels that stood watch before us.
I followed his gaze but could barely register what I was seeing. It was like an invisible shockwave had blown through the cloudy perimeter of the massive space we were in. The energy rolled forward like a tidal wave, and angels exploded into bursts of black rot and crimson as the energy surged forward.
There were no feathers, no eyes, and no chunks of flesh or bone… only mist.
The first wave took out half the audience so quickly I could barely register what had happened before my gaze fell on a single black-cloaked figure. The Reaper floated forward, his scythe leaking death magic in his wake. Rot and decay stained the white clouds beneath him, slowly turning the sky black.
The Reaper’s face was shrouded in shadow, but I knew it was Ramel—everyone knew it was Ramel.
Art hissed and tore away from me. I slumped against the restraints that tied me to the cross, the nails in my palms tearing my flesh with the movement. Despite the mind-shattering pain that screamed through my body, I couldn’t look away from the massacre that was unfolding before my very eyes.
After the first wave of angels had been turned to dust, the rest of them mobilized. They moved as if they shared one mind and fell on Ramel in a massive writhing ball of shimmering feathers.
I screamed at him to run, but he merely flicked his black fingers as the army descended upon him. Another shockwave of death magic exploded from him with the power of a nuclear bomb.
More mist.
He continued forward, his trajectory clear. I could feel his wrath like it was a tangible thing. His gaze bore into me, and despite not being able to see his face, I felt it as his eyes absorbed the damage that had been done to me.
The nails in my palms.
My ripped dress.
He saw it all, and he would show no mercy.
Yahweh screamed an order, and somehow, more angels appeared, throwing themselves without fear directly into Ramel’s path.
They taunted him, getting close enough to entice hand to hand, but Ramel was ruthlessly efficient. He didn’t have any interest in causing pain or injury… only death.
True death.
Death that, until recently, immortals had never needed to fear.
In cold, calculated silence, Ramel released another shockwave, annihilating Yahweh’s next onslaught of angels just as easily as the last. He was close enough now that I worried for Hypnos. If he released another death blast that powerful, I wasn’t sure even a god would survive it.
Yahweh was yelling at Art to retreat, gesturing to the Sorter of Souls, which was now visible in the distance, given that Ramel had flattened every wall and hallway that had stood between us.
I could feel Ramel powering up another blast, his hand floating forward to point at Yahweh, but he was too close. Hypnos would not make it.
