Satan's revelations fell like cold blades.
Bakuzan understood, with an almost painful clarity, that the creature before him would never be a true ally. She lived only for her own interests, and all who had the imprudence to believe in her reaped nothing but betrayal.
Satan drew a mocking smile.
— Stay calm, little one. Everything I am about to tell you, you must engrave in your memory. Your survival depends on it.
Her voice vibrated like a spell.
— The world of gods, hells, and the void… these realms transcend even the dreams of tertiary gods. And these gods themselves are but transcended dust. Yet, within their structure, there exist layers. They stretch from the third dimension up to heights that defy all language. These layers serve to contain the souls of mortals who refuse to be reborn… or those captured by force. They also host the essences of superhumans and the very memories of the Deviants. One part remains tied to space, while another denies space, transcends it, cancels it.
Satan leaned slightly towards Bakuzan, her eyes blazing with a more concentrated gleam:
— Let us return to the Demon Emperors. Raktabīja Rāvana might be more powerful than me today, who can say? But there is a demon far more interesting than that shapeless mass of hatred.
An enigmatic smile brushed her lips.
— The daughter of Lucifer.
Bakuzan remained still, but his gaze betrayed a heightened attention.
Satan continued, almost as if savoring each word:
— Lucifer is but a mythical name. His true name is Yami-no-Mikoto… or Kurohikari. He is called the Light of Shadow. Do you know why? Because in the meta-reality — what you call the Dream of the God Father — Kurohikari is precisely that: the light hidden in the shadow of the Dream. The original god of that dark zone.
She gave a brief laugh, more fascinating than amused:
— All demons, devils, and Demon Emperors are linked to him, one way or another. But Kurohikari never intervenes. He is neither the instigator nor the savior. He is the eternal silence.
She resumed, more seriously:
— With Lilith's consent, he begot a daughter: Erasa. Today, Erasa is a Demon Emperor. But not like us, who only transcended the second zone of the Dream. No… she is far more.
Satan paused, as if weighing the magnitude of her words.
— Do you know the legend of Zar'Khan? He was the first to break all boundaries. Lucifer's disciple. He transcended the Dream before anyone else. Well, Erasa accomplished the same feat. She transcended the entire meta-reality. The Dream of the God Father in its fullness.
A heavy, almost suffocating silence settled.
Satan finally whispered, her gaze hardening:
— No surprise, deep down. She is the daughter of Lucifer. Destiny, curse, and glory paved that path for her.
Then her eyes narrowed, her smile fading to reveal a rare gravity:
— And now… I will tell you about the Shadow that circles around Samaël.
The Shadow that is Samaël.
Satan squinted, her smile twisting into a sneering grimace.
— Earlier, you named three: Lilith, Lucifer, and Samaël. But you were wrong. The name you should have said… is Azazel.
Bakuzan's eyes widened. A cold shadow passed through his mind.
Satan continued, her voice almost mocking:
— Azazel… the vilest of impostors. The biggest bastard the hells have ever borne. He pretends to be Lucifer; he stole this title, this image, this legend. But Lucifer and Azazel are not the same entity. Not at all.
She leaned closer to Bakuzan, as if entrusting him with forbidden truth:
— Samaël was once the Black Prince of Will, Lilith's first husband. The one who, in shadows, executed divine discipline. But he faced Azazel… and lost. His false body — the narrative instrument where his power resided — was destroyed. Definitively. Not even the Chants of the Abyss could regenerate it.
Her eyes darkened, shining with a venomous gleam:
— Lilith, fascinated by Azazel's wild freedom, united with him. And from this union were born the Children of Hell: demons without collars, without divine names engraved on their flesh, free even in their damnation.
Satan raised a hand as if drawing an invisible vision in the air:
— Samaël's true body still rests… very far from here. Sealed beneath the roots of Visnü, imprisoned by seven seals. But not material chains. No. These are Primordial Forces, laws predating creation. Even gods cannot break them. There, in the forbidden circles where Zeus also rests, Lilith has deployed her own primordial form — that of before language, before the first Name.
A heavy silence set in. Bakuzan finally murmured, almost reluctantly:
— So… the true prince, the legitimate owner of Hell… is Samaël?
Satan slowly nodded, her lips stretched in a bitter smile:
— Exactly. When Samaël reigned, there was no open war between gods and demons. The balance held, fragile but real. But since Azazel usurped his place… hell has become a nightmare. What seal he used to achieve this is unknown… but even Zeus cannot free Samaël. Nor Lilith.
Bakuzan clenched his fists.
— What? Lilith is still trying to save Samaël?
Satan let out a slight laugh, halfway between tenderness and cruelty:
— More or less. Lilith never truly had a side. For her, Samaël or Azazel… it doesn't matter. She is, and will always be, the Mother of Demons. The womb of Hell.
Bakuzan remained skeptical. One question haunted him, looping in his mind: Who then is this Azazel? Why claim to be Lucifer? What hidden agenda hides behind this mask?
— Why would Azazel pretend to be Lucifer? Who is he… and what does he truly want? he asked, his voice loaded with disbelief.
Satan's face closed immediately, and her tone darkened as if the very air thickened around them.
— Azazel… his ambition surpasses the borders of hell. He seeks nothing less than to defeat the God Father Odin himself.
Bakuzan's eyes widened. The astonishment showed on his face, but it was only a prelude to an even more terrible truth Satan was about to reveal.
— We do not know where Azazel actually comes from, she resumed in a serious voice. But one thing is certain: he dreams of turning hell into a never-ending army.
She paused, her gaze clouded with ancient shadows.
— After Adam's death, she continued, Azazel committed abominations even hell recoiled from witnessing. He forced his demons — those he called his children — to unite with humans. Why? Because at that time, men were bound to the gods by a much deeper faith than today. From this union, he hoped to create hybrids, half-human half-infernal creatures capable of capturing a divine spark… He wanted to forge an army of demigods shaped by his sole will, instruments capable of overthrowing the world order.
Satan's voice grew lower, heavier still, like an echo from beyond the grave.
— But Odin saw through this endeavour. The God Father exterminated every last one of those unholy spawn, forever tearing away their chance of return. Azazel's abominations were erased from the course of history itself, as if they never existed.
A shiver ran through Bakuzan. He knew this account was no myth. He felt these horrors had truly occurred.
Satan continued, her lips twisting in a bitter grimace:
— Devoured by rage and frustration, Azazel confronted Odin. He lost, of course. They cast him into Tartarus, that endless abyss from which none return… None, except him. Azazel was the first to escape it. Transformed, unrecognizable, he came back from the abyss as absolute evil. And in his ascent, he crushed Samaël himself, seizing his throne and his name.
Silence fell again. Satan's words echoed like sentences engraved in stone.
Satan sketched an enigmatic, almost playful smile:
— Now, you know everything…
She took a few steps, her gaze lost in the vastness of the starry sky, each light seeming to answer her in a silent whisper.
— Black Grief… listen well. That Azazel pretends to be Kurohikari is no mere coincidence. Even I was once deceived by him…
Bakuzan's eyes widened, surprised by this confession.
Satan tilted her head slightly, a nearly nostalgic smile on her lips:
— It is because of him that I pushed Eve to taste the forbidden fruit. I don't really know what he seeks… but Kurohikari has this rare talent to twist the perception of reality for some. It's not exactly a lie, and it's not exactly the truth… it's something between the two.
Bakuzan frowned, his voice low and grave:
— You mean that… in a way, Azazel… ?
Satan turned to him, her gaze piercing like a blade:
— Yes. Azazel must have crossed his path one day. And something about that meeting triggered his behavior. Kurohikari only distorts reality to achieve a goal… but understanding that goal, Black Grief… is beyond anything we can imagine.
Bakuzan felt the weight of her words. He took a deep breath, aware that what he had just heard surpassed anything he had faced before.
— I still have one question… he finally said. You are very ancient indeed, but how did you accumulate so much knowledge?
Satan gave a slight smile, her expression turning mysterious, almost mischievous:
— Thanks to Kurohikari, partly. But don't be mistaken: I played my part, making sure his way of deceiving reality was only a lie… turned truth. He likes to boast of being the most powerful of the original gods after the God Father… but me? I'm not so sure.
She paused for a moment, her eyes blazing under the stars' glow.
— There are so many things you still do not know… If your paths ever cross, Black Grief, beware. Even for me, he remains an enigma. And believe me… some enigmas are deadly.