Shadow of the Abyss

Chapter 277: Zero and Mephisto

The rage that had been unveiled had sparked outrage amongst the denizens of Babels Tower. The New Gods were not just appalled; their faces twisted in a mix of shock and horror at the news of the Upper Moon's interference. They were utterly aghast by the one called Altair Blackwood and the slaughter he brought.

Far across the First Floor, infernal lightning reigned supreme like the hands of a furious god, smiting the land into wasteland.

Magma flared skyward, only to burn to vaper following the bolt that shrieked across the skies, unable to allow even the most basic of elements to exist.

Such a sight left even the cruelest gods amused. It had been clear that Altair and his people didn't have the power to uproot the first realm, but they were doing it brick by brick. Altair Blackwood, with his overwhelming power, was scorching the elements as though they were the earth. It was a sight to behold and admire, at least to the Demons and Devils of the Myriad Heavens.

Those who upheld a righteous heart were torn between the sorrow of a dying realm and the horrid truth that gave birth to such a villain: The Upper Moons had betrayed their trust. They were not just furious; they were seething with anger, amassing in numbers within the Palace of Upper Moons on the Hundred and twelfth floor.

Their faces flushed with rage, watching in numbers the massacre Altair reigning.

Trigon, Palace-Master of the House of Flame, stood poised, arms pressed tightly behind his back. He stared out at the hundreds of thousands of new gods glaring back at him with blatant distrust pressed against eyes. If he so chose, it would take but a single gesture to slaughter them all, bathing his palace ground a sinful red.

They were New Gods, bearly at the level to exist beneath his presence, and no longer protected by the Shadow Proclamation. He had the right to lay waste to every last god that scorned him and his house.

And yet he smiled, quelling that Undying Immortal Flame in his chest. "Please calm yourself, Children of Babels Tower."

"Calm! You created a monster! Look!" The God, who shouted, opened his palm, projecting an image of the First Floor to reveal a Shadow Demon bashing a woman's face open, draining its contents into its mouth as if he were squeezing an orange.

The sickening sight left even the outraged mob silent, their eyes turning to Trigon. Slowly, dozens of other projections began to play, allowing similar scenes to run. The Shadow Demons were ruthless and uncaring of right and wrong so long as they could satiate their undying bloodlust.

Worlds could burn, but each of the New Gods was sure that none of that would be able to quell these Shadow Demons' bloodlust.

"We demand—"

Before the mob could speak, they all vanished, banished from view before they could even hope to resist the sudden compression of time and space; 'He' appeared, his usual half smile buried beneath the coldness of his eyes.

The mere sight of the entity sent a sudden chill across Trigon's spine. He'd heard much of the dog of Mephisto. The trickster whose aim in life was only to sow chaos between Gods and Mortals alike, Be they demon or devil, Angel or Fallen, none of it seemed to matter before the Eighths Infernal Monarch pet.

As Zagreus arrived before the ruined walls of the city, lined with bodies of old and young, he could only sigh. The City of Trein had been a safe zone that the Floor Masters had created to congratulate those who succeeded in surviving the first trial.

It was a heaven in itself, allowing mortals to live peacefully for the rest of their days without the need to worry about food, water, money, or lodging. Everything had been complimentary, or rather an incentive to climb the tower above to experience the riches above.

Now, the city, once a symbol of grandeur and prosperity, was now a smoldering ruin with flames licking at the sky. Smoke billowed up from the buildings, choking the air with acrid fumes. The streets, once bustling with activity, were now a desolate wasteland of entrails and never-ending bodies.

Zagreus was nearly reminded of the City of Sacrilege back in Yarwin, but rather than Lust, it was unfeathered Wrath, burning unendingly.

'He really has lost control.' Zag thought, glancing at the still-fuming Prince. He'd never seen him so angry. No one had. And yet, as he glanced at Syris, she didn't look too surprised. It was as if she suspected it.

It came to him then as he asked himself, 'How much of that anger is from his experience in the Lake of Rot?'

Altair only needed a single trigger to shatter his mental defenses, and it just so happened to be the blatant abuse of the Upper Moons and the Floor Master, who encouraged such behavior by seamlessly allowing their inquisitors to come and go in his trail.

While Zagreus believed it was in the Tower Master's right to allow the Inquisitors free reign across the various towers, it made no legal sense why they were targeting Altair, who had just appeared in Babels Tower.

'Even if they were after his blood, there is more to this story. There is no way the Upper Moons are this stupid or blatant.'

And he said, " Syris, we should stop Altair."

"Not until the Floor Master kneels," Syris said in a deadpan expression, unbothered by the madness before her. "And even then... Altair should not stop until this Floor is his."

"He's making enemies in a blinding moment of rage."

"So what? Altair is not a fool. Nor is he so defenseless that he needs to always be so cautious at every turn. This is right here! All this chaos is a precedent that is being set. There are only so many times you can taunt an animal before they strike back." Syris slid her eyes to Zag.

"You should know this better than us. Why else is your Father so feared that no one dears to touch him? How many precedents did he set?"

Zagreus smiled wyly, recalling the matter quite vividly. No one except the dead was allowed within his Underworld. He'd seen many Mortals, even some Gods believing themselves above his Father's rule, be torn apart. In his father's kingdom, everyone Feared and Respected the name Hades. They feared his power and cruelty, but they also admired his dedication, purpose, and mission.

"Even if Altair is not thinking straight, it's not our job to quell his anger but direct it in the direction he believes will aid him in the future," Syris smirked. "Even if it means the slaughter of innocent people. That is our job."