Dxd: A demon Among Devils

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He could no longer hear them calling to him anymore and in the all engulfing silence that followed, there was nothing but darkness.

I Control This Plane.

I Rule This Realm.

Their Voices Will Not Reach You In This Hallowed Place.

He craned his head upwards to stare at her, the source of the voice, and almost didn't manage it, such was the weight of her presence.

Together You Are Strong.

Alone You Are Weak.

What Will You Do Now, Child Of Man, Now That You Are So Very Alone?

His limbs felt like leaden weights. His mind swam futilely against the current. Even breathing became a chore.

Your Bonds Gave You The Strength To Resist.

But Without Them Your Courage Is Meaningless.

Your Will, Inconsequential.

His legs gave out from under him, and his knees thudded into something hard. He presumed it was the ground, but couldn't tell for sure. The darkness permeated everything. He could not see anything in front of him, could not hear anything but the dooming drone of her voice. He was a blind man groping in the dark. A deaf man cursed to hear nothing but the words of his foe. And all the while, the darkness continued to press in, suffocating him, drowning him.

Such Was Your Fate When Man Consumed The Forbidden Fruit Of Knowledge And Fell From His Blissful State of Ignorance.

Such Is The Fate Of All Your Kind.

He hated her then. Hated her with a passion that surprised even him. He not sure he was even capable of such a volatile emotion.

Hate Me.

Despise Me.

But Know That It Is Necessary.

Humanity Demands An End To All Things And I Am That End.

The kindness in her tone made him hate her all the more. He gritted his teeth and tried to grasp at something, anything, but the darkness drifted through his fingers like smoke.

It Is A Pity.

If Only There Were More Like You.

Defiant To The Very Last Breath.

Loyal To One Another.

Willing To Sacrifice All.

Then Perhaps The Fall Could Have Been Averted.

But It Is Too Late.

He felt so very tired. So very weary. His eyelids drooped. He fought against it, knowing that should they fully close, he would never wake again. His senses dulled. He struggled against it, knowing that losing just one would mean the loss of all.

My Passing Will Scour The Surface Of The Earth.

My Presence Will Wilt The Tree Of Life.

My Voice Will Still The Song of Birth.

I Will Leave Nothing In My Wake And Return The World To Its Original State.

Sleep, Child Of Man, Sleep Forevermore, And Know That There Is No Shame In Admitting Defeat To Death.

His last cry of defiance escaped his lips in a soft sigh. It was a pathetic sound and he would have laughed had he had any strength left. The darkness closed in all around him. Sapping his will. Draining his resolve. Demanding his surrender with their bleak presence, and hewas slowly givingin and everythingwasgrowingdimandfadingandtherewasnomorelightand…

A peal of thunder.

A strike of lightning.

The shadows broiled away, breaking from their position encircling him like a flock of startled vultures.

His eyes snapped open.

Arms not his own wrapped around his body, and the determination that had been stolen flooded back into his psyche stronger than before.

He could feel her attention riveting on the new presence, could sense her gazing down in condemnation.

You.

Fragment Of My Will.

Piece That Was Once Me.

Why Now Do You Choose To Betray Me?

Explain This Base Treachery.

Thanatos's reply was a full-throated howl, long and hateful. The only answer she would ever receive.

So Be It.

Die With Him.

Her sigh was genuinely regretful.

He smiled. Smiled because of the irony. Smiled because he could feel them rising from the Sea of Souls. Smiled because their presence forcefully broke into his mind and set themselves loose.

Power coalesced. Taking form. Becoming corporeal. And suddenly he was no longer alone.

"Why do you kneel, Nephilim?" the voice was brass and metallic and tinged with the echo of unyielding steel, "Why do you abase yourself before this false idol?" Metatron, a floating beacon of light in the suffocating darkness, "Where is he who forged me from his righteousness, his virtue, his unshakeable resolve?"

"WHY DO YOU BOW, NEPHILIM?" the voice was gravel and rock and mixed with the hiss of crashing lava, "WHY DO YOU BEG AND SCRAPE BEFORE THIS WRETCHED CREATURE?" Belial, the cracks in its body flaring with orange fire, the only parts of him that could be seen in the smothering darkness, "WHERE IS HE WHO MADE ME FROM HIS RAGE, HIS ANGER, HIS UNBREAKABLE WILL?"

He tried to stand, but it was still too much, too heavy, and faltered. Nyx's beating aura lifted from him and focused on the new arrivals with something akin to curiosity.

You Who Are Born From His Mind Have Come To Aid Him.

A Noble Sentiment, But Ultimately, Futile.

Flickers Of Thought Are Of No More Use Here.

In the blackness that clouded his vision a fiery crack materialized. A grin. Belial's grin.

"FLICKERS OF THOUGHT ARE WE? COME AND SAY THAT TO MY FACE AND I WILL SHOW YOU JUST HOW REAL I CAN BE."

Metatron hovered in front of him, slightly to his side, its plated arms crossed over its chest.

"A thought is just a word, and words cannot describe what we are. Only existence matters, and in this place carved out by your presence, we exist. That is proof enough. We exist to serve. We exist to protect. We exist to wage this one final battle against the End that would consume us all."

Her amusement was a physical thing. Hooded and heavy. Pulsating like heartbeats.

You Cannot Win.

You Cannot Escape Death.

But Let Us Set Aside All Logic And Say That You Can.

Who Will Witness This Fight?

Who Will See This Battle?

Who Will Know Of Your Struggle?

"He will know," plated fingers gestured to his kneeling form, "We will know," they formed a fist and crashed against its ornate breastplate, "This world will know," Metatron nodded to her, helmed face held high.

And You will be Made to Know.

"LOOK AT HER," Belial sneered, its voice a ruinous rasp, "SO CONFIDENT IN HER VICTORY. SO ASSURED THAT SHE WILL WIN."

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