The light of teleportation faded.
A cold wind lashed across Elior's face, making him stagger as Ether spiraled violently around him. When his vision cleared, he realized they were no longer standing in the sunlit square of the Angelic Quarter — but in a vast hall that seemed to swallow every trace of light.
The vaulted ceiling shimmered with black gemstones, through which purple fire flowed backward like serpents. Massive pillars carved with kneeling demons lined the walls, their eyes burning with red flame. The air reeked of sulfur and scorched metal — thick, hot, and choking.
In the center of the hall, a colossal sigil was carved into the obsidian floor: a six-winged raven tearing the sun in half.
Lucen swallowed hard, his voice cracking.
"Uh… this doesn't look like the Hall of Radiance, does it?"
Alice's face went pale.
"Lucen, you opened the wrong gate."
"Impossible! My mother's map is perfect — down to the etheric coordinates!" Lucen raised the shimmering map, but the once-bright runes now flickered and warped, overlapping like a web of chaos.
"Unless…" His voice dropped. "Someone reversed the teleportation flux."
Elior narrowed his eyes, scanning the shadows. Iron stairways twisted upward into darkness where even the purple flames could not reach.
A group of figures — or demons — were gathered near the long stone tables, cups of smoking violet liquor in hand.
One tall demon with ashen skin and crescent-curved horns turned toward them. His voice grated like metal dragged across rock.
"New arrivals? What house are you from? You look… misplaced."
Lucen forced a nervous smile, hiding a pouch of firecrackers behind his back.
"Uh… we're, uh, part of an exchange program?"
"Exchange?" Another demon laughed — a female voice, sharp as glass. "This is Domus Infernalis, little mortal. Mortals don't last long here."
Alice tugged Elior's sleeve. "We need to leave. Now."
Elior's mind raced. There was one place — a gate near the Astra canteen that connected to the Angelic dormitories. If they could reach it, they might still escape.
"Lucen," he whispered, "does your map show the canteen layer?"
Lucen wiped sweat from his temple and tapped a few runes. The map shifted, concentric circles aligning until a single point glowed at the eastern edge of the hall.
"There. A secondary portal marked Astra Refectory Gate. But we'll need to dodge the guards."
Before they could move, a voice rang out — cold, metallic, and perfectly clear:
"I know you."
Silence fell like a curtain. The crowd of demons parted, revealing a tall, pale figure.
He was almost human — skin white as wax, hair black with a violet sheen. His eyes were pools of liquid darkness, their pupils glowing faint green, like an abyss that stared back.
On his chest gleamed a six-winged raven clutching a green gem that pulsed with icy light.
Lucen's breath hitched. "No way… Varzek Ababbdon."
Varzek stopped before them, his lips curling into a faint, cruel smile.
"So it's you again. I thought little angels only knew how to hide behind their false light."
Alice gripped her crystal staff. "Varzek… didn't you learn your lesson last time?"
"Lesson?" Varzek laughed — low, dangerous. "Your light is an illusion. Let me remind you what's real."
The air cracked apart. A surge of black lightning burst from his sword, tearing through the hall like a thunderclap.
"Glacius Aeterna!" Alice shouted.
A wall of blue-white ice materialized before them, but when the dark bolt struck, the hall exploded in a flash of clashing light — white, black, and then… silence.
The ice shattered into a thousand glittering shards.
Lucen grabbed Alice's arm, dragging her back. "Elior, run!"
But Varzek didn't stop. His sword, Vorath, screamed as he twisted his wrist, channeling more of that abyssal storm.
"Noctis Voltura!"
A second wave of black lightning split the air, ripping through rows of stone benches. Elior threw up an arm, feeling the heat sear across his cheek.
Then another voice — deep and commanding — thundered from the far end.
"Stand down!"
A new demon stepped into view — even taller than Varzek, shoulders broad, three crimson runes burning across his brow. His name carried through the hall like a gust of ash.
Fenex Razhaal, lord of the Ashborn, pureblood of the Infernal Line.
His amber-gray eyes glowed like dying coals as he raised his spear. "Varzek. I'll deal with the intruders."
Before anyone could react, Fenex swung the weapon in a wide arc. The air howled — and a wave of pressure slammed into them.
Elior, Lucen, and Alice were thrown across the hall, crashing against the wall with bone-shaking force.
Alice groaned, blood trailing from her lip. Lucen lay motionless, a thin line of red trickling from his temple.
Dazed, Elior looked down and saw his wand lying nearby — the Luminwood Wand.
He reached for it.
The silver veins within its handle pulsed with his heartbeat. The crimson crystal at its core trembled — not bright, but steady, like a breath drawn in silence.
Varzek smirked. "A little angel with a stick? Show me what you think you can do."
Elior inhaled sharply. Fear churned inside him — but anger rose with it, burning cold.
He swung the wand. "—Dispergia!"
The air vibrated. Dozens of tiny black orbs formed around him, pulsing faintly red like dying stars.
"Elior, stop!" Lucen shouted hoarsely. "They're unstable!"
But it was too late.
The sound vanished.
Not an explosion — not even light.
Just absence.
Everything went silent — breath, heat, heartbeat. The world itself seemed to collapse inward.
Varzek froze. The black spheres did not burst; instead, they erased.
The stone floor, the flames, the air — all dissolved into nothingness.
A void yawned open in the center of the Infernal Hall.
Every demon stared at Elior. The light in his wand flickered… then went out.
And then — a wave of invisible force swept across the hall.
Space trembled. Time itself seemed to hold its breath.
A voice echoed — deep, resonant, calm as eternity:
"Enough."
Out of the silver haze of Ether stepped a man in robes of white and steel.
His ashen hair gleamed faintly under the dim firelight; a single monocle on his left eye rotated with runes like turning gears.
Solomon — The All-Seeing Eye of Astra.
He raised his right hand. The black ring on his finger flared with silver light. Instantly, silence fell across the Infernal Hall. Even Varzek stood motionless, his smirk fading.
Solomon stopped beside Elior.
He said nothing — merely lowered his hand.
The three students dissolved into silver light and vanished.
When the glow faded, only drifting etheric ash remained.
Solomon turned to the demons.
"I do not wish to see this happen again."
His tone was soft — yet the hall trembled with the weight of his words.
Then he turned away.
Alone once more, Solomon adjusted his monocle. The silver in his eyes flickered like a storm contained.
"Interesting," he murmured. "It's been over a thousand years since I last saw… Oblivion Burst."
The Ether winds stirred, carrying the scent of ash and silence.
And within that stillness — something ancient began to awaken.