[Chapter Two: A Demonic Duo and Whispers of Torment]
A discordant note pierced the symphony of suffering that echoed through the Stygian depths. In this wretched waystation for souls, where whispers meandered through crumbling monuments, a new arrival stirred disquiet. They called this realm Purgatory. Here, chronicler of the damned, I treaded a path through fetid alleyways, collecting narratives of the eternally ostracized.
But unlike the others consumed by their own private torments, this newcomer emanated a cold, simmering rage, a storm held captive by the unyielding grip of his chains, forged from the very will of Hell itself. An aura of peculiarity clung to the towering figure, his face obscured by a shroud of despair, hinting at a past woven from violence and untold fury.
Rumors rippled through the shadows. Some whispered of a monstrous warrior, a creature forged in the fires of a world beyond Purgatory. Others murmured of a punishment exceeding even the cruelty of this infernal realm – a soul condemned to witness the suffering he inflicted upon others.
Was this a mere prisoner or a harbinger of something more? Only time, and perhaps the tormented murmurs of this enigmatic being, would reveal the truth. One thing was certain: the arrival of Kokutō, prisoner of the ninth cycle, had cast a long shadow over Purgatory, and the chronicles I recorded may soon become terrifying.
Meanwhile, in a secluded corner of Purgatory
"Must it be so harsh on a soul so young?" a demon questioned, his voice laced with a hint of disapproval.
"Harsh on whom?" he echoed, his tone laced with confusion.
"A soul nurtured to create all that is good, even residing in pure evil, is being punished for yearning for both shadows and light," the veiled figure spoke, perusing the records of his encounters.
"May I inquire, why would one deign to grace my meager presence? Have you never encountered a newborn?" A man with the presence of an elder lich spoke in a formal register.
"What is the matter with your manner of speaking? It is not the Age of Antiquity, and I am certain no one converses in such a way anymore. Regardless, our lady requests your presence," the lich countered with a touch of annoyance.
"Our Lady? Good sir, you must understand that I am currently on a leave of absence, and by your tone, it seems to be the off-season for our lady. Additionally, in her own courteous tone, I would prefer not to be troubled by anyone other than her," the demon, yet to be named, spoke with a hint of arrogance.
"Listen, newborn, by 'her' she implied you shouldn't be so literal in defying the rules. If Greed, Limbo, Lust, and even Treachery themselves hadn't enacted a law for your protection, you might be one of the prisoners yourself," the lich explained with a hint of exasperation.
"First and foremost, why not exchange names, good sir? The name I have assumed is Aarowan, devoid of any particular meaning. What might yours be?" Aarowan inquired of the lich in a more formal tone.
"Diabolus! Time to return home, kid!" boomed the lich, now identified as Diabolus.
Aarowan, the newly christened demon, raised an arm in a gesture that could be interpreted as pointing upwards. "Have you, Lord Diabolus, ever heard of a concept perpetually prepared for release? Let there be a concept..." Before he could fully articulate his thought, Aarowan, tempted by the idea as if it were a forbidden desire, stopped mid-sentence. The realization of his near slip and the brief awareness of a conscious thought process being high for a demon were enough to momentarily disarm him. In that split second of vulnerability, Diabolus tightened his grip on Aarowan's collar and began dragging him away.
"You must understand, kid, these old bones are too weary for your games!" Diabolus grumbled as their sixty-solar-cycle journey commenced. Over each cycle, the newborn, or rather the one known as Aarowan, would randomly spout concepts, each one abruptly terminated before he could elaborate. Finally, the day arrived to meet their mistress, the Lady of Lust.
An Audience with Lillith
Diabolus entered the audience chamber with a grimace that outshone even his usual displeased expression. He tossed the newborn at the Lady of Lust herself and spoke in an exasperated tone, "If you ever send me to retrieve this thing again, consider the worst – his jokes, those jokes were even more archaic than my bones. He nearly drove me mad with them!"
"...those jokes," Aarowan muttered under his breath, even as he sprawled unceremoniously on the steps leading to the throne. The Lady of Lust, known as Lillith, spoke with a hint of amusement, "Why must Father burden me with such tasks, Lord Diabolus? I thank you. Please, feel free to partake of anything from my treasury as a token of my gratitude."
"Lillith, my lady," Diabolus replied, his voice laced with concern, "that one is a menace. Please keep him leashed, even if loosely." With that, Diabolus exited the chamber, a look of relief washing over his face.
Lillith turned her attention to Aarowan, who still lounged on the steps. "So, Aarowan," she began, her voice curious, "any idea why we punish even those who are partially innocent, not truly responsible for their crimes, but burdened by imagined guilt?"
"The answer is simple, my lady," Aarowan responded in his formal manner. "Even the innocent must be allowed to experience and purge those tormenting memories. Such corruption can only be mitigated by further corruption, for they no longer exist in their original form."
Lillith raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I understand the rationale behind punishment. But why did you release those souls you encountered earlier? Do you not comprehend the potential for further depravity after a cycle of such torment?"
Aarowan shrugged, a gesture that seemed almost alien on his demonic form. "I suppose it is simply part of my nature," he offered with a hint of impishness.
Lillith sighed. "Very well," she conceded. "If venturing forth is your compulsion, then there might be a soul you can attempt to mold. They are corrupted after birth, and understanding the nature of their lust may prove beneficial. You must discover the root of their obsession with a loved one."
A glint of interest flickered in Aarowan's eyes. "Why must they love so intensely? Is it a challenge?"
Lillith studied him for a long moment. "Demon without a true name," she began, her voice laced with a hint of authority, "this is my command to you, newborn. My first official order: Find one named Kokutō."
A slow smile spread across Aarowan's face. He rose to his full height, revealing a figure clad in ragged boots and gloves, a hooded blue jacket concealing most of his form. His midnight black hair framed eyes with an unsettling peculiarity – one iris a normal black, the other a gleaming white.
"The Lotus of Absence shall grant any wish of the master it views as worthy," he murmured, a cryptic phrase that hung heavy in the air as he turned to depart on his first official mission.