Prologue: Ashtaroth

"W e have discussed this several times, Belial." If the disinterested tone of my voice does not convey my boredom, the way I lounge in my seat, head resting on a fist, surely must. The archdemon in question faces me and his expression becomes pinched, lips thinned. While we have had no major conflicts these last millennia, Belial is well aware that the pool which is my tolerance is shallow indeed. His ingratiating manner depletes it quickly.

Belial lifts his arms in question, an ancient dramatic peacock. "I have been warning this Council for decades. What has to happen for us to act? A total loss of control over the human realm?" He tilts his head as if waiting for me to dig myself into a hole. Imbecile.

I release my breath in a sigh, lifting my head to have a better view of my fellow councilors. We meet on neutral ground, a cavernous space deep in the mountains of Purgatory. Naturally, Heaven and Hell are seated on opposing sides of the underground amphitheater-like structure. Only a few on the demonic side show some interest in Belial's plight. Asmodai winks at me, eyes twinkling. I look at Heaven's delegation next. Angels are harder to read, their expressions perpetually blank, but I imagine the news of manifested damned souls killing humans vexes them somewhat.

"What is Hell doing to prevent rifts remaining open between Hell and the human lands? If there are no rifts, there are no avenues for damned souls to escape through." The archangel Saraqael's powerful voice rumbles through the cavern. A contemporary of mine, Saraqael has a legendary stick up his tightly clenched asshole.

Belial shakes his head and the blonde ringlets of his mortal form bounce like released jack-in-the-boxes. "We all know rifts are notoriously hard to find. That isn't the solution here. We need to diminish the number of these manifestations so Hell isn't bursting at the seams."

Asmodai snorts, drawing all our gazes. "Perhaps we should implore the Transcendent and our Lord and Savior to finally increase the size of Hell? It's been the same size since humans plowed their first fields." My adopted brother's lips stretch into a wicked grin. "And we plowed our first humans."

Predictably, laughter erupts on our side and even I crack a smile. I have always preferred not to dally with humans, even before I was confined in the Underworld. They are too… fragile.

The other side, however, is less amused.

"Blasphemy!"

I am not certain which angel made their displeasure known, as the outcry only fueled the demons' hilarity.

"Be quiet!" Belial's anger at our insouciance shows in the way he loses control over his form. Horns now poke out of the mop of angelic curls and his eyes are no longer cornflower blue, but instead glowing a fiery orange. He never was very contained, though he tries hard to hide his demonic traits from the angels. "This is no time for jokes. If humans witness escaped denizens of Hell, they will destroy each other in the resulting chaos. Do you want to experience starvation, Asmodai?"

While Belial does have a flair for the dramatic, he is not lying. The majority of us seated on this side of the demarcation between Heaven and Hell once gained nourishment from Elysium. No longer welcome to partake there, we now feed on the power generated by sins. Humans, now numerous enough that the shedding of their mortal forms chokes Hell with overpopulation, are also its best source of food.

I lift my chin at Belial, resuming the pertinent conversation. "You wish to bring half-mortal offspring to Hell to assist with the numbers? They would be eaten within hours."

"Not Hell." Belial points at the ceiling.

"Purgatory?" Saraqael sounds almost intrigued. As intrigued as an emotionless mannequin can be.

"The Fallen of Abaddon have been culling the numbers alone for decades now. They would welcome assistance."

"That's debatable," Asmodai murmurs, then raises his voice enough to be heard throughout the amphitheater. "Who would train them? The Elioud in the human realm are as powerless as any other mortal. Heaven made sure of that."

"Maalik of the Fallen spent time in my army. He is a capable warrior and leader. Since the offspring of Celestials aren't welcome in Heaven, Purgatory is as close to a neutral party in the Underworld as we can conceive of."

Belial's reply is quick and succinct. It is almost as if he had the answer ready, like a loaded cannonball waiting to be unleashed. He has been prattling about the dangers of Hell's overpopulation for years now, but it is obvious he had every step of what he sees as a solution planned.

"How many would you bring?" The angel inquiring is young – too young for me to have known him in Heaven and too insignificant to have bothered to learn his name since.

Belial still has munitions at the ready. "There are a few dozen physically appropriate Elioud with very few social attachments alive now."

The angel ponders for a moment. "And how will taking dozens of mortals risk exposure less than these sporadic attacks from Hell?"

"There are enough fallen angels in Abaddon to observe the suitable Elioud, then prepare and execute a simultaneous, stealthy extraction."

I scoff, making the archdemon turn towards me, jaw tight.

"And you think these mortals will want to help after being abducted into Hell?"

"Ashtaroth is correct, Belial." Saraqael shakes his head. "They may not have many attachments in the human realm, but their lives there are surely preferable to venturing into Hell, culling the ranks of mortal souls given form, and any ravenous demonic minions they meet while doing so."

Belial's expression turns bashful and I wonder if I am the only one who is repulsed by his artificial countenance. We did not rebel all those eons ago to pretend we are something we are not when Heaven observes.

"Unfortunately, they won't have a choice. We'll have to impart the importance of their mission. Make them see it as their purpose."

The air buzzes with noise as the assembled members each start voicing their conflicting opinions, but my attention is on Asmodai, who leans in with a mischievous smirk. "Mortals in Hell. It's been so long since I got to play with any." He pouts, and though he is thousands of years old, he now looks like the young Celestial I took under my wing when Lilith and Samael proved to have not a single parental bone between them. "No one summons me out of here anymore."

I huff and raise my brows in warning. "Be careful. Your cock gets you in trouble enough without mortals loose in Hell."

My brother waves a hand in dismissal. "Eh. What's Heaven going to do to me if I stoke the lust of an Elioud or two?"

I shake my head and focus on the discussion again. It looks like Belial will finally fulfill his desire to be the initiator of a momentous decision within the Council.