The Underworld. Ring of Pride, Pentagram City, the Silence District, Mansion of Silence.
"…for at this moment, the Council strongly recommends postponing the announcement regarding the 'expansion' of the Silence District for another two months, during which it is obliged to take countermeasures against everything previously stated, henceforth…"
William's blue eyes burned with energy, Weavings forming almost on the fly, while words to fill documents were "invented" by an entire mechanism of spells crafted specifically for this purpose, significantly easing the Fallen Archangel's workload.
"…Casualty report: 3 Hunters, 2 Valiants, 15 Suppressors, 6 Overseers (Eagles)… Request for necessary resources required to restore the Silence's strike force…"
William had long since stopped being angry, both at himself and at the Sinners who, one way or another, managed to ruin his Constructs. It would be foolish to expect that among millions of Sinners, there wouldn't be someone whose powers could, if not deceive his creations, then at least harm them.
In the past, William would close his eyes, calmly use a series of Weavings to immediately restore the losses, and then, directly commanding the Constructs, destroy their assailants. The result: foolish, narrow-minded, and simply a waste of time and resources.
Now, William simply closed his eyes, signed, sent what was needed using different developed Weavings, turned the page… Marking names or districts where his Constructs had been destroyed, only so he could find "volunteers" for other experiments… Perhaps even into the "Chill," the censored and more serious name William gave to the joking nickname of his soul-storage-and-generator place, "Fuckenheim."
No, that name had its own different, personal place in his terminology, but now William's attention was drawn to yet another letter from the "junk box," consisting of various requests-demands-pleas from unfamiliar Overlords.
"…therefore, dear Overlord of Silence, I humbly dare to request your attention to a meeting in my modest home, in the center of what is perhaps known to you as the Cannibal Quarter, as the rest of the city knows it. This Overlord has potentially valuable information, and, I dare claim with these lines, about something being prepared against you…"
These words touched something in his mind, something similar truly had existed somewhere, but William…
"William!" – the Princess of Hell's cry interrupted the flowing thought, along with its very source, as she practically flew into the quiet and calm office of Silence. The girl threw the door open, raising her hand as if presenting something, with a wide smile on her pale face marked with red circles on her cheeks, revealing slightly sharp teeth.
That cry seemed to wipe away all the mood, the whole atmosphere, and the stream of thoughts in the room. Not to mention the wave of air that scattered part of William's papers from his desk.
…Had William been occupied with something more important, he would have reacted accordingly to the Princess of Hell's transgression, but this time he was in a good mood, so he simply sighed and restored order with a Weaving.
"Yes, Charlie?" – William said in a steady, calm voice, lifting his gaze to the Princess of Hell, who now looked around the office more consciously and noticed William's busyness.
"I… hah, I wanted to ask if I could come in and…" – Charlie spoke, cheeks flushed, her voice uneven, averting her gaze with an awkward smile while rubbing her forearm. – "To ask how you're doing?" – At Charlie's explanation-question, William simply sighed.
"Did you get another idea and rush to carry it out without thinking again?" William's voice carried irony as he watched Charlie's uneven smile widen, her cheeks blending with red blotches. "Go on then." He shrugged, shifting in his chair and transforming excess paper into blue energy, sending it where it belonged. "If it's important enough to barge in during my workday, it'd be a sin not to listen to Hell's Princess." His voice had traces of sarcasm, which made Charlie respond with another nervous, uneven laugh.
"Ha-ha… Yes, very important…" The Princess's crimson gaze wandered across the dark wooden office as her voice grew quieter with each word. "I just wanted to know how you're doing and what you're working on…" Charlie's head sank slightly into her shoulders, while her left fingers tugged at the collar of her tucked-in shirt and suspenders.
"How could anyone in Hell be doing?" William let a chuckle escape, even lifting his blue eyes to meet hers with a small grin. "Slowly rotting, but still resisting." He laughed louder, earning a short nod from the Princess. "And what I'm doing, you see for yourself." He gestured at his work with a free hand. His tone returned to normal, which allowed Charlie to relax and take a seat in the matching chair nearby—hers, designed with wheels because she loved rolling around the office while thinking aloud.
"I mean what you do as an Overlord." Charlie spoke more steadily now, fixing her rolled-up sleeves, though avoiding William's gaze. "Like, what you usually do on a daily basis, your duties, how you influence things…" Her voice was "picking up speed," becoming overly "familiar," until William raised his hand to stop her.
"I get it, Charlie." William exhaled, rubbing the bridge of his nose and suppressing a sigh. "But I've told you about my work more than once. I even took you on a few outings, remember?" He looked at her faint smile and half-lidded eyes.
"I know, it's just…" Charlie's eyes darted again, her tone carrying hints of panic—or maybe urgency. "I just want to hear it again. This time, fully." She grew calmer, taking off her shoes and tucking her hooves beneath her. A small crimson blanket wrapped around her shoulders, appearing from lines of blue energy. "But not only about you—about other Overlords of Pentagram City too." Her certainty that William had this knowledge made the Fallen Archangel chuckle quietly and shake his head.
She didn't know about his Network, that army of "cameras" and Constructs devoted to gathering information from the Cursed City. She simply believed in him, stirring a strangely familiar feeling in William's soul.
"This brat really can be persuasive… when she's not mumbling or panicking," William thought, summoning his favorite glass mug of tea. This time his Constructs had fetched some "blue tea" from Thailand or China. He was surprised it existed on Earth at all, not just in the Circle of Lust, and was curious to try it.
Charlie got her own mug of coffee—simple crimson, with an ever-changing inscription, a gift from her father.
"So, about my undeniably inexplicable busyness…" William allowed himself a small smile, glancing at the blue liquid while Charlie tried to suppress another nervous giggle, looking away. "What I've said before still holds…" He straightened, enjoying the forgotten stretch in his back. "Mainly, Overlords—myself included—focus on their territory: handling internal issues, bringing order, 'processing' sinners in their own style, managing the flow of new souls." He shrugged, sipping again and scanning papers.
"So… almost everything they do in Heaven?" Charlie ventured, sipping her coffee, bundled in her blanket, eyes drifting toward the window. William nodded, signing another document.
"Strangely enough, yes… Except if angels were allowed to kill and torture rivals, feast on subordinates' souls, and gorge on their power." William's tone made Charlie choke on her drink, leaving her with a cute… amusing expression. "Otherwise, it's the usual intrigue: expanding territory, pacts, betrayals, alliances, contracts, deals, trade… Easier to say what an Overlord doesn't do. Though of course, it depends on their size and influence in the City." He sipped again, scanning another report.
Charlie just nodded, drifting into her own thoughts. That unsettled William—she should've already known this much, or at least guessed. He remembered her sitting quietly in Council meetings with his Replicants, walking beside him through new districts under construction, even accompanying him to visit his Tenants. She had to know his duties as an Overlord, and of others, even if she hadn't seen them in person. He had told her stories about his dealings with Zestial and Carmine often enough.
Most of it was a balance of requests and offers from all sides. Zestial invited Silence over to trade news—he'd learn something useful about partners or souls he wanted checked, while William gained access to wandering souls near the Barrier. Sometimes Zestial asked for favors—things from Earth, mostly materials or recent chemical discoveries—in return granting William unquestionable debts.
Carmine was simpler—focused on weapons, new designs, and processing "Heaven's metal." She already had her first clients. Though she wasn't yet networking with other Overlords or Sinner gangs, William kept her as a piece in a long game.
As for Alastor and others… William sometimes exchanged letters with the first, always rejecting his invitations to the radio. With the rest, he limited himself to simple non-aggression pacts.
"…And Charlie should already know all this. Yet here she is, asking again, sitting across from me and…" William's stream of irritation was interrupted by a foreign thought, one he had realized long ago but buried under work.
Charlie just wanted to spend time with someone… she liked.
William nearly facepalmed, stifling a sigh as he froze. Luckily, Charlie didn't notice—or chose not to. She just held her mug of coffee.
"Right… I'd forgotten about this ticking time bomb." William lowered his eyes to the papers, but his rhythm was broken, his flow disrupted.
The Princess of Hell… had begun to gaze at William longer, leaning in and reaching out to him more than usual, always finding excuses to spend time alone.…If it were Emily, William would've already had a serious talk, defining their feelings, maybe even acted on them. But behind Emily stood the Aspect of Wonder, the Prince of Deceit, and the Devil himself. Not to mention the Queen of Hell, the Mother of Monsters, the Siren, the First Sinner… and the Seven Deadly Sins—almost uncles and aunts to the Princess, as William understood it.No, under such circumstances, William simply had to…
"…What do you think?" Charlie's voice cut through his thoughts, making him shake off the mental trap. Her crimson eyes peeked at him over the rim of her coffee mug, forcing William to resort to a tried method.
"Honestly? Probably almost the same as yours." William shrugged, acting as if he had indeed listened.
"You really think Sinners and Overlords could be involved in helping redeem willing souls?" Charlie tilted her head, looking at him with near tearful eyes. William's smile twisted, but his head nodded anyway.
"For the most part… though not all souls are fit for it," William replied firmly, his gaze dropping to his now-empty tea cup, the taste already forgotten.
"But we can influence that!" Charlie's voice grew stronger. Her mug hit his desk as she leapt to her feet, pacing the office with hoofbeats tapping a strange rhythm. "You, as an Overlord with influence over Pentagram City's powers, and I, as…" She flinched briefly, but forced herself onward. "…as the Princess of Hell, could… order them? Point the right way?" Her eyes pleaded, and William simply nodded.
"My influence isn't as global as you might—" William began calmly, eyes already dropping to another paper, trying to return to his focused state, even performing small exercises to ease back into flow, but…
"…And then, we could… find a place, something safe, a guarantee of protection or immunity from the rest of the City…" Charlie continued, seemingly not hearing him. The Fallen Archangel rubbed his nose, closing his eyes. "…And then we'd design a program of games, exercises to build the qualities we need…" She gestured wildly, as if speaking to an invisible partner—or William.
"I think you're misusing terms for simple gam—" William cut himself off. Her tone was unstoppable.
"…But where to find lodgers or guests? We could take some from Silence, but then we'd need to… Papa won't appro… Mama would definitely refu… And then we could—No, better take from…"
William didn't even try to interrupt now, watching with surprise as her steps quickened, hooves leaving faint marks on the immaculate carpet, tracing a figure-eight. She paced back and forth, muttering, words blending into near incoherence—even with Weaving to aid his hearing.
"Irritation, resignation, pressure, and the desperate wish it would end… I think I finally understand what Adam felt during our first council," William admitted to himself, gradually letting her fade into background noise as he returned to his paperwork.
"Zephyr, my old friend! I write with great delight to tell you my good friend wishes to meet you! Though she is of the cannibals, I assure you this darling will…" William skimmed an old-fashioned letter, reading out of idle curiosity.
"William!" Charlie slammed her hands against the desk with a loud smack, leaning close to his face. William raised a slightly irritated gaze. "We must demand Adam's books on helping human souls! Only then can we guarantee a path to Redemption—on Earth and in Hell." Her crimson eyes blazed, nails lengthening into black claws.
William inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly, meeting her eyes with all the weight of his idea.
"Charlie." His voice had a strange effect. She flinched, pulling back, masking herself with her trademark smile again. "When I was in Heaven, serving the High Seraph himself, I approached Jesus Christ." William spoke softly, hiding a grin as Charlie's eyes widened and her body leaned closer.
"And when I asked him, 'How do we save humanity?', he answered honestly…" William leaned in, whispering conspiratorially to the intent Princess of Hell. "'I don't know.'"
Charlie's face froze in shock, and William couldn't hold back a short laugh.
"Wh-what do you mean, 'I don't know'?! He's God's Son—he's supposed to descend to Earth!" Charlie all but protested, her face demanding confirmation.
"That's the most common question people ask Christ." William nodded sagely, hiding his smile behind interlaced fingers. "'When is the Second Coming?' If he's in a good mood, he says: 'Soon.'" William tilted his head, watching Charlie's eyes widen further. After a pause, savoring the moment, he added: "And when they really pester him, he says: 'Not today.'"
William barely suppressed a laugh at her shocked expression. Her crimson eyes darted, her mind racing. He was sure—if her body had goat ears like in some of Lucifer's photos, they'd be twitching along with her gaze.
"Jesu…" Charlie stammered, her voice uncertain, realization dawning. "The Son of God himself doesn't know how to save human souls?" she whispered, hardly believing her words. "But… he's…" Her crimson eyes locked onto William, who snapped his fingers to refill his cup with blue tea—this time sweetened.
"If there is a way, it lies in the Incomprehensible Divine Plan." William shrugged, lifting his cup and taking a slow sip, trying to taste it properly. "It's certainly not just some ritual whipped up in a few years by two idiots." His voice slipped into irritation. Charlie quickly nodded, though his words clearly unsettled her.
Still, they had the effect he wanted. Silence returned, embracing William's mind, guiding him back to efficiency. Charlie drained her coffee in a few gulps, set the mug on the armrest—where a cupholder immediately appeared—then lowered her head to her knees, arms wrapped around them.
William let her be. Interrupting her thoughts now would only mean hours of debate—or worse, listening to her endless attempts to solve in weeks what Heaven hadn't in ten thousand years, or her musings on "how to make a Sinner stop sinning."
One way or another, both souls found something of their own in that dark, cool yet cozy office, where only the scratch of pen on paper and the weaving hum of blue energy broke the quiet.
William even began to consider creating a Construct shaped like a bird, its song and wingbeat adding a simple orchestra outside the windows—before Silence was broken again.
"By the way… What do you think of the suit Uncle Ozzy made?" Charlie whispered, far less energetic than before. "He wants your opinion." A small smile curved her lips, her posture loosening into something more open.
William only sighed heavily.
"Too flashy and colorful," William forced out under Charlie's quiet laughter, lifting his eyes to the Princess of Hell. "Excessively bright, but… I must admit…" Each word came slower, honesty dragged unwillingly out of him, while Charlie's gaze pierced deeper into his figure. "Stylish," William exhaled, nodding. Charlie smiled, not widely, but sincerely and warmly.
"I'm glad you're not too upset. My uncle really did… go a bit overboard," Charlie admitted reluctantly, choosing softer words to describe that evening when Lust had crushed William with sheer force, calling it fair play. "But, as he asked me to pass on—and I quote…" Charlie exhaled, her face lit with a strange blend of puzzlement, amusement, and mischief that William had seen in her parents. "'Style, bitch, style.' That's what Uncle Ozzy said when I asked why he gave you that."
William only nodded, cursing the Sin of Lust again in his mind for his… numerous antics that irritated and angered more than they ever relaxed. Perhaps that was the intention, but William didn't even want to try to understand Asmodeus.
"By the way, are you free next week?" Charlie asked more lively, straightening her back and lowering her bare hoof-feet to the floor, stretching her legs. William, once again, with small but growing irritation, stopped writing and turned to his plans.
"For the next week and a half, it will only be data collection for the projects. Nothing requiring close attention or corrections," William said slowly, drumming his free fingers on the table. For his past self, such a long phase would have felt unbearably drawn out, but with immortality tested, he allowed more adjustments, greatly improving the chance of success.
"Then… would you like to go with me to Park L…" Charlie blurted almost nervously, speaking in one breath before freezing, nearly falling forward—saved only by leaning on her hooves. William arched a brow, watching Charlie's crimson eyes widen, then dart anxiously around the room, while the Princess of Hell bit her lip and nail, rocking unsteadily on the chair.
"Something wrong?" William asked, putting more concern into his voice as he leaned forward. Charlie seemed not to notice, her breathing quickening.
He would have begun worrying already, but then she stood up—almost jumped—staring at him in fear, looking as if…
"I… I forgot something," Charlie confessed quietly, looking like a guilty child. Her shoulders slumped, her head sank, her right hand clutched her left. "…Next week I have to… visit a family…" Her voice grew softer, while William's eyes widened in surprise and a tentative guess.
"Would you like to visit the Goetia family with me?" Charlie asked, looking into his eyes and releasing the words as if diving underwater. "I assure you, its head is loyal to the lower ranks of Hell, and he possesses vast knowledge of magic," she said, pausing briefly before her eyes lit up with a spark of enthusiasm. "They may also have something about Redemption and human Sin. His father is King Paimon, the Master of Magic—he must know something!"
Charlie smacked her palm into her fist, while William suppressed the urge to laugh shamefully… For he himself had long been considering a possible visit to a Goetia family but had faced a series of complications that made it difficult… And now, he was simply invited—as if to a casual visit.
"And… which branch of Paimon's family is this?" William asked slowly, trying to hide his rising enthusiasm as he dropped his pen and set aside his half-drunk cup of tea, focusing almost all his thoughts on Charlie. She nodded, briefly closed her eyes, and exhaled before meeting him with a firmer gaze.
"The Stolas family. Prince of Goetia and son of Paimon. We're having dinner with him and his wife Stella next Tuesday."
Kotvslape
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