The wind howled over the craggy peaks as the portal shimmered into existence.
Kael’s hand tightened around Celeste’s. She could feel the tension in his grip, the barely restrained fear. Not for himself—but for her. Nyra stood behind them, her twin daggers sheathed and her hood pulled low over her silver-streaked hair.
Celeste stared at the portal. It pulsed like a heartbeat—dark, molten red, ringed with ancient runes. It smelled like ash and lightning. “This leads to the Infernal Realm?”
Kael nodded. “We’ll be walking into my father’s territory. He’ll know the moment we cross.”
Nyra smirked. “Good. Let him prepare.”
Celeste took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”
They stepped through.
---
The Infernal Realm was not fire and brimstone. It was worse.
A sky of swirling shadows. Mountains that bled lava like wounds. Rivers of obsidian. And floating fortresses held aloft by screaming chains. The air was thick with despair, like breathing grief.
Celeste staggered at first, the heat licking at her skin. Her mark pulsed wildly, as if reacting to the very heartbeat of the realm.
Kael moved quickly, helping her steady. “The air here feeds on fear. You have to fight it.”
Nyra led them through a broken path toward the city of Umbrael—Lucivar’s stronghold. Hidden among the crumbled ruins outside the city gates was a secret network of tunnels used by resistance forces.
Yes, there was a rebellion in hell.
---
Inside the tunnels, a dozen Infernal beings turned their weapons on them—until Kael raised his hands and stepped forward. “I bring the Flame.”
All eyes turned to Celeste. Whispers echoed through the cavern.
“The girl from the prophecy.”
“She returns…”
An older demon woman with wings made of obsidian stepped forward. Her name was Eryss. Once Kael’s general. Now leader of the resistance.
She examined Celeste with piercing eyes. “She looks like Seraphine.”
Kael said nothing.
“I’m not her,” Celeste replied. “I’m me. But I carry her fire.”
Eryss gave a slow nod. “Then come. We have much to discuss.”
---
In the underground war room, maps of the Infernal Realm were scattered over ancient tables. Eryss pointed to a floating fortress cloaked in storm.
“Lucivar holds Astraea here. The Prison of Echoes. Guarded by his Shadow Knights. No one gets in. No one gets out.”
Celeste stepped forward. “Then we break that rule.”
Kael frowned. “Even if we reach her, there’s the Fourth Seal. If Lucivar opens it—”
“He’ll unleash the Devourer,” Nyra finished. “And the Gate will tear the realms apart.”
Eryss raised a brow. “Then we better move fast.”
---
That Night
Celeste couldn’t sleep. Her dreams were full of flames and stars. Kael found her sitting on the ledge of the cliff overlooking the molten chasm.
“You okay?” he asked.
She looked at him. “In my dream, Seraphine gave Astraea something. A fragment of power. I think… Astraea carries part of the key to seal the Gate.”
Kael nodded. “Then saving her isn’t just about prophecy. It’s survival.”
Celeste leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m scared.”
“So am I.”
“But I’m ready.”
---
The Next Morning
The assault began.
Eryss led a diversion force to the western wall. Nyra and Kael took out the sentries along the shadow bridges. Celeste moved like a ghost, fire cloaking her form.
They entered the Prison of Echoes through a forgotten vent shaft. Inside, the walls whispered regrets and fears—weaponized illusions meant to break intruders.
Celeste saw herself drowning in fire. Alone. Powerless. Screaming.
Kael grabbed her hand, his voice anchoring her. “It’s not real.”
They reached the heart of the prison.
Astraea hung in chains of star-metal, her skin glowing faintly, her eyes dim.
Celeste ran to her, burning the chains away.
Astraea opened her eyes. “You came…”
Celeste smiled. “We always find each other.”
Lucivar’s voice boomed from the darkness.
“Then let’s end the game, daughter of flame.”
He stepped from the shadows—tall, regal, monstrous. A crown of bone. Eyes like collapsed stars.
He raised a hand—and the realm cracked.
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