Six years changed Hell in ways no one expected.
Not with explosions. Or with war.
But with quiet shifts territories absorbed without public conflict, alliances formed before anyone realized they mattered, rumors spreading faster than blood.
The kind of change that didn't ask for permission.
The kind that became reality while everyone else was distracted.
And at the center of it:
Ouroboros.
OUROBOROS NOW
What once began as a quiet territorial foothold in Lust Ring had grown into something far more structured almost… governmental.
Not a kingdom.
Something in-between.
A network, system.
A shadow infrastructure that stretched across every ring of Hell:
Lust (Headquarters):
Sin Rouge now dominated half the nightlife, turning from a single territory into a district bright, dangerous, efficient.
Wrath (Military Outpost):
Dreg commanded an army hardened by the ring's brutality. No one challenged them twice.
Greed (Trade Gate):
Doona controlled wealth flows so tightly that anyone doing business in the ring indirectly worked through Ouroboros.
Gluttony (Resource Lines):
Skit and Bit oversaw supply routes and black-market distribution with terrifying precision.
Sloth (Information Web):
Liz oversaw passive surveillance networks—spies, data streams, behavioral patterns.
Envy (Silent Front):
The Watcher still lingered. No attacks, no overt moves. Only presence.
A predator waiting for the perfect moment.
Pride (Diplomatic Veil):
Rafe built connections with nobles, overlords, and Goetia without kneeling to any of them.
And beyond Hell?
Earth.
Thanks to Asmodeus' crystals and a carefully negotiated arrangement that involved favors, contracts, and quiet threats Ouroboros operated there too.
financially.
Digitally.
Culturally.
So quietly that governments didn't even know they'd been infiltrated.
Yet.
MALERION & VEROSIKA
Their relationship didn't burn fast and collapse like most Lust born romances.
It evolved.
Slowly.
Intentionally.
Dangerously steady.
Six years together changed them both:
Malerion was no longer the anomaly everyone whispered about
he was an established force, something Hell couldn't categorize.
Verosika wasn't just a star
she was an empire, touring Hell and Earth, adored, feared, untouchable.
But privately?
They were still themselves.
Quiet breakfasts.
Late night strategy meetings.
Training sessions they both pretended weren't excuses to stay close.
Arguments that felt like storms.
Silences that felt like gravity.
Hell had names for them now:
> The Siren and the Serpent.
No one said it to their faces.
HELL'S SHIFTS
Pride Ring changed most.
Lucifer remained distant always busy with no one new what always half removed.
Lilith?
Gone.
One year, no public appearance.
Rumors ranged from:
exile,
imprisonment,
self chosen disappearance,
or something far older and stranger.
Overlords moved more cautiously now.
Not because of fear but due to unknown
TODAY
Malerion stood on a balcony overlooking Sin Rouge's skyline larger than ever, pulsing with life.
Behind him, Verosika zipped up a black jacket, sunglasses in hand.
"You're thinking again," she said, voice dry.
"I never stopped," he replied.
She smirked and stepped beside him.
"Six years. Not bad for someone nobody knew."
"I wasn't aiming to be known."
"No," she said, gently bumping his shoulder with hers,
"but you knew Hell would learn your name anyway."
He didn't deny it.
She slid her sunglasses on.
"So… what now? Expansion? War? Diplomacy? Another concert?"
Malerion watched the rings beyond the skyline Hell stretching farther than sight allowed, full of potential, danger, and waiting predators.
"No," he said.
"We wait."
Verosika arched a brow.
"For what?"
His expression didn't change only his tone did:
"for the first extermination that will change everything
The watcher was always watching but he wasn't a big enemy, at most he was a nuisance, he was throwing problems or making tasks difficult as if he wanted to check how the ouroboros worked.