Underworld. Pentagram City. Silence. 1931.
...What the fuck did you fuck up your Paradise for?!...?
He was floating somewhere deep beneath the seas, maybe it was Hades. Maybe this was the real Hell, haunting souls when they couldn't resist, when they were alone? He couldn't figure out where he was: upstairs, downstairs, somewhere in the middle?
...The cold and indifferent gaze of the one who had become his closest soul, at the same time as the other, blissfully unaware of his transgression....
The constant cold, grayness, he can barely see anything in front of him. A forest, mountains, maybe some ruins? He can't understand what's happening, the meaning seems to be constantly slipping away... And on the edge of sensation, disturbing thoughts are constantly raging....
... "What if I don't succeed?"... "What makes me think I can get back?"... "You should have known your place and not go where you shouldn't..."... "I'll give everything, but please... enough!"... "I'm very tired, just tired..."....
All the time it's... these feelings. Anxiety, nervousness, pains somewhere in my chest, maybe even in my head or back... Phantom pains, old reminders, reminders of long ago and recent pain, of....
... "No, not again...!".....
The flames.
Those feelings. The fear. The pain that the consciousness did not remember, but... forever imprinted in the soul... The flames that tore the mind, soul and flesh. The Flame of the Hyena... The wrath of God against his Beloved Son for what he had done. An eternal reminder... But he was protected.....
He's so tired.
Shouldn't he just give up? Just stop trying to resist? What was the point, after all, no one had ever managed to get out of this place before.
"Sooner or later I'll turn into an empty shell, discarding everything I have, then I'll be killed. So what's the point of trying and suffering? Just..."
He fought back, running from the thoughts that there was no way to break away from... He tried, he didn't want to stop. The flame was getting closer... That damn orange light... It kept getting closer, he couldn't escape it, he couldn't do more... nor... what....
Give up.
No. No. No. No, I don't want to, I don't want to die, I don't want to be lost, what am I going to become, I'm...
Fallen.
With a loud sigh, covered in sweat, William woke up.
He jumped up, tipping the blanket over.
William was breathing heavily, blinking rapidly with eyes that could see perfectly into the darkness of his home. Home in Hell, but not in Paradise. His body was shaking as if in a fever, a stream of blue-white energy could be seen flowing from his eyes, and his hair became a stream of dark flame for a moment.
William was recovering his breath, lowering his face into the palm of his hand. His body, since the past year had managed to... adapt, if such a thing could be said of this... this parody of his former shell. His forearms and legs no longer shimmered, changing densities, leaving him with just a gray body, but the runes, a small portion of which he was still able to adapt to help himself, still "haphazardly" shimmered like waves or raindrops, appearing and disappearing all over his body.
His body became more stable, adapting to the ever increasing strain, becoming stronger and stronger. William put all the effort he could afford into his almost vanished free time.
The only time he could rest like "the good old days" was when he slept. His body needed sleep. William had long ago weaned himself from the need for sleep, having previously used it as a method of rest or simply "for the senses", for in Paradise...
William rubbed his face tiredly. His breathing became rhythmic and calm, and his body almost stopped shaking. He exhaled loudly, straightening up, looking around the room with tired, nearly shuttered eyes.
In the darkness of his home, the only source of light now were two dark blue dots that still gave off a glow and small streams of energy.
William sighed again, hanging his feet off the bed, slipping his slippers on the cold footsteps. Nice and soft pink slippers, covering the entire foot, with a picture of bunnies on them. William didn't care about all those "opinions" or whatever else made up by Sinners discussing fashion. Those slippers elicited at least some sort of response, keeping William in tone.
William brewed another cup of tea.
After it was revealed that unlike the rest of the Ring, it was his neighborhood that was relatively intact, and the Sinners, for the most part, had survived...
William grinned as he sipped his tea, reading Conan Doyle, his 'Hounds of the Baskervilles' was a classic and one of those books he could reread to calm his thoughts. Sitting in the chair that was next to the couch, where there was a small cup holder on the armrest, right with a cup holder where he could put his cup away.
His neighborhood began to be literally broken into. The rules for "admission" and "legalization" were still the same, but most of it didn't stop, and the lines were packed for years to come.
"Silence defeated the Chief Exorcist in battle, saving his neighborhood!"
"The Lord of Silence defeated Michael, only to have him not touch him while he was reading!"
"Zephyr, Lord of Silence, defeated Adam to rule the Exterminations, but the latter refused, for he doesn't give a fuck, for he just wants everyone to fuck off!"
"Silence, Zephyr, Lord of the City of Silence, was able to fool the Exorcist Taxiarch and save himself until next year!"
"Zephyr Silence became the first Sinner whose neighborhood won't need to be completely rebuilt after the Extermination, which means he has a way to save our lives!"
"Silence shut up Uriis... Uphias... Uriel, no more Slayings!"
"Silence became King Adam by defeating the Head of the Slayers, Seraphim Altron!"
"Silence to marry the Queen and Sin, for he was able to overcome the Head of the Slayers, Arch-Seraphim Gabriel!"
"The Head of the Slayers Michael was defeated by Silence, who bent the latter in a quick and interesting fight, for the latter was disturbed!"
And a dozen more newspaper headlines or newscasts on TV.
Reading those headlines made William gasp. For the first time since the Fall, he was laughing heartily. He burst into laughter with every new, even more absurd, headline or news item on television.
Why on earth would the Sinners think he had defeated Adam? What else would these degenerates think? They couldn't even agree on the identity of the Slayer Commander, let alone come to a consensus about him and his block.
William laughed softly as he sank into his memories.
Sinners and come to a consensus? Every more or less large neighborhood has its own currency, its own rules, its own newspaper and news. Everyone has their own version of the creation of the Universe, where Eve and Adam might not have existed. According to the version of these geniuses, Lilith and Lucifer immediately betrayed everything they could, and humanity just grew like mushrooms or some other nonsense.
Adam was called Michael, Uriel, Raphael, Gabriel, and his angelic rank, lucky if at all called, not that to write correctly. Angel, Archangel, Seraphim, Archiseraphim, Herve, Cherub, Cherubim, whatever they could think of.
William shook his head, sipping some tea and flipping a page with his finger, folding his legs on a small black stool-seat with the softest cushion, stretching them out.
What did they say about his Silence? A neighborhood where one could not speak, could not disturb his Overlord under any circumstances, a neighborhood where one could not even walk the streets, where one could not make noise, and so on!
"Oh those stupid Doomed...," William shook his head cheerfully.
"They called him 'Silence', and it wasn't started by some newspapers, but by Cinderella! When he found out about it and came to her office with questions, preparing to press her soul...
"Did you even hear your name, Zephyr? You should have started your wave sooner or you'd be forever labeled 'Zephyr' or worse!", Cinderella irritably replied to him then, smoking an expensive cigarette.
William, again, for the first time, was in agreement with Sinner about something. It was the first time he had heard a sensible thought from one he could not have expected. After all, his haste in choosing his new name had played tricks on him... And the fact that William himself wasn't very good at naming his projects with "cool and flashy" names, as Adam would say....
Since then, William has been called either "Zephyr", "Silence", or "The Demon of Silence". A demon that doesn't like noise and will shut up anyone who bothers him or makes a single sound.
The latest rumor was spread by William himself. After all, if the Sinners would keep quiet and avoid him themselves, William would be only too happy! And what a way for him to wander around the city....
All the Sinners would run half a street away, not daring even to come close, and the bravest would immediately shrink into a beautiful ball of blood, and their souls would go to him, never to appear in Hell again... He had to confirm the rumors, otherwise the Sinners wouldn't understand!
William had to finish his Balanda project, which was to create a storage-converter, which would be the basis for his future Ideal-type Constructs... He had to choose the best name for such Constructs... Androids? Golems? Images... Images? Phanto-om?
William will think further, while he will think of ways to realize the accumulation of energy... Sinners must somehow produce this energy. Do they have to dig for earth or coal? Do something? Trust these idiots with anything more complicated than rape written into their instincts, or murder...?
A project... "Lucky Wolf", where Sinners would be networked together to generate shared "natural" energy... something that would have to be explored as well... And there's more to think about....
- News, Master! - the hoarse and low voice of a short black creature, as tall as William's belly. A henchman. - Master! - Brown-colored hands and eyes that had only one thing in them: loyalty and dog-like devotion. The henchman even wagged his tail like a good dog, waiting for encouragement.
His little breakthrough in the Constructs. If one forgot that these creatures knew only a few words and were not intelligent, but merely... biomechanisms that reacted to him in such a way, faithfully serving only him, one might think that he had interlocutors... But William was not crazy enough to think of the Minions as interlocutors. It would be easier to talk to the enchanted portraits of his familiars right away, that illusion would be preferable.
William picked up a fresh newspaper, and the Minions immediately vaporized in a small smoke, going through their algorithm of actions.
What the local 'truth' publications are saying here...
"Silence and Spider Zestial are related?!", 'Shocker! Sin of Greed is holding a musical performance in the Ring of Greed, inviting all Sinners!', "Aphrodite is busy updating the genres and services of her brothel. What to expect.", 'The King has issued new laws legalizing Type 32 fights', "New scandalous photos of the hottest demonesses! Aphrodite herself exposed...", "Demons and Sinners. The Possibility of Easing Being," "Reason has found a new way of defense on Extermination! Help from Silence himself!", 'Silence's Tips for Neighborhood Care!', 'How to make your grass buy'....
Small articles, and on the main page they still talk about his meetings with Zestial... No, this Sinner was truly a ray of light in this darkness of idiocy, because he was adequate and calm. He controlled his urges perfectly, though he was still a sadistic Sinner who loved to scream, but everyone has his faults.
He was another gentleman. Politeness, manners, and just a good attitude were disposing. They had gotten back together almost immediately after the Slaying, just a couple days later, which Zestial admitted was ironic, since it was the same date they had met the previous year.
Walking through the ruined ruins, stopping in the park of his Silence, they had made a verbal pact. A partnership and companionship. Zestial was just as pleased with the addition of another soul to the Shadowlands pack, another soul that could brighten his imprisonment in this place. Spider Zestial got another pleasant companion, and William got a copy of the "Lord" type soul from Hell, on which he could study the phenomenon of soul "draining" by Hell. Where would he get data on what Zestial was like during his first few years in Hell...?
William went through the paper once more, rolling his eyes at the latest articles.
He hadn't gone anywhere, hadn't talked to anyone. The usual fabrications and just plain outright lies. Typical Hell.
And as for "relief to be..."
William took a closer look at the article and its author, setting his tea aside.
"Demons and Sinners. The Possibilities of Easing Being," by Charlotte Morningstar, Princess of Hell, who works with the oldest souls in regards to Demons and Sinners...
"And the little one has learned her lesson...", William nodded approvingly, reading a short article listing ways a Sinner could use to... 'lessen' Sin's influence and become a little happier.
"Good slogan, not bad arguments, the idea itself is not bad, especially for the first serious article... If it is the first, but as it is... Weak argumentation, unverifiable sources... What in Hell can be omitted, though for completeness it should be noted... When did Lucifer write anything for Hell? "A History of Hell?" Is this a real book or did the Prince of Deception lie again? Either way, why not send a positive review to the Princess...", William read the article, parroting the sound of a beeping quill that with sharp and honed movements wrote in elegant handwriting on parchment.
When William finished, the paper folded, flying into a newly created envelope, which, when closed, was stamped with a dark blue seal. The cross that was atop his halo, given to Eve, surrounded by a pair of wings. The background was black, like his hand, and the images were dark blue, shimmering with white and blue energy.
A snap of his fingers and the envelope glowed with dark blue energy for a moment, flying towards the exit.
It would comet to the highest altitude available to Hell, and then a Messenger would form around it to deliver the letter. The Morning Dawn Mansion wasn't hard to find, it was hard to miss the only green (or what colors are there?) section of the Ring of Pride, just outside the boundaries of Pentagram City.
The messenger would fly to the Manor in peace... William wondered.
"And if I drop the letter from a height, or just as stealthily as possible to get to the Mansion for delivery, what would happen to the letter?", William thought, while he was making two copies of the review, just in case.
There was no telling how Lucifer or Lilith would react to the fact that they might have received mail from a Sinner, albeit in such a way....
...
Underworld. Morning Dawn Mansion. Ten o'clock in the morning.
Charlie had been on her mind.
All morning, since seven, she had been literally swamped in books or study materials... collections on human psychology, on methods and techniques of writing a research paper, collections of examples of research papers of every conceivable kind....
She looked quite comical, judging by her mother's chuckles, staring at these papers and books on the soft velvet carpet, but she didn't care. She had made up her mind, she would show Sinners all her ideas through black letters on white (often) parchment! Though her mom calls it paper and Charlie was sometimes confused, she understood the difference.
She had her goal, she had a way to accomplish it, she had data on it (just one comment, but it's a start!), so she has to move forward! She couldn't just give up, after all, it was today, after a dozen attempts, that her article was first printed by the main newspaper of the Ring of Pride!
Of course... she suspected her father might have done something, maybe even her mother... But Charlie wanted to consider that it was her work and effort that had brought her this first victory, the first step towards helping the souls of Sinners!
"Cha-a-a-arlie! Come to breakfast!" - came the shout of her mother, signifying a break in her studies. With a little (precisely elegant!) puffing, she rose, casting aside, precisely unconsciously, everything superfluous, a quick march, precisely not a run, she headed for the kitchen.
A light red sweater with long sleeves and a high collar, complemented by short, just above the knees, brown shorts were her choice this morning. Or rather what she first saw when she looked in the closet with countless clothes. Simple red slippers were a change.
Her family's large mansion had its inconveniences, for even as a child she could get lost in the large halls and rooms of her house as she tried to simply go up to her room, thank goodness her mom and dad were quick to help her overcome that problem. Her daddy had definitely, definitely not remodeled the house for her, she would know.
Running, I mean slowly and importantly walking, into the kitchen, Charlie inhaled the smell. Some kind of baked good her mom had been experimenting with lately, trying to find something in those recipes. The same thing she does with soups all the time, as if trying to replicate or recreate some recipe out there. Charlie and Dad didn't mind, as her mom was an excellent cook. They both loved the First Woman's cooking, and she was happy to hear the praise, especially from her.
Charlie knew that her daddy gave her "special" thanks either in private or at night. Yes, she knew about sex and how babies came about...human babies. Whatever her parents thought or made up, justifying something there by her age. No, it was fun the first couple of times to catch or interrupt the "fun" of her dad and mom, but after that... Charlie was rather annoyed with her parents' busy-ness, because of that they couldn't give her advice or guidance in her ideas.
Lilith only patted her daughter on the head as she set the table and gestured for her personal goat, the older version of Razzil and Dazzil, her personal goats, to take breakfast to Lucifer.
This time, Charlie's mom was wearing a simple pink robe with no underwear underneath, but Charlie didn't mind that. They must have been 'partying' again this night, if that shaking and barely audible noise was any indication.
Though, her father could definitely repeat after her mom and come down for breakfast....
Charlie understood her father's reasons, that he was probably off on something of his own again, which was certainly very important, but sometimes she wished her father would come down for breakfast more often...
"Finally getting away from your books, Charlie?" - her mother asked her when they were finished with the first, a new soup, the name of which Charlie wouldn't be able to pronounce even in her mind, and the second, some kind of elaborate bread, filled with chopped vegetables, dressed with gravy. Now, both women (Charlie is a woman, whatever her parents and the Sins say!) were drinking tea, supplementing the sweet liquid with goodies, like chocolates or candy.
"I have three more articles to write, since one of the past five got published in the paper after all." - Charlie nodded, handing Razzyl a bag of candy that he'd taken some for himself and his brother while her mom was away. Charlie could have sworn she heard her mom sigh softly, barely noticeable.
"Charlie..." - Oh no. Charlie knows that tone of her mom's. She'll be explaining to Charlie again that this, exactly this, idea of hers has already been tried by her, that it won't work and so on-" "Can't you find..." - Lilith faltered slightly, filling the pause with bread from her mug of tea. - "...A more worthy means of realizing your ideas?" - Her mother's smile was perfect. Soft and good-natured, but Charlie could tell it was a little strained.
"But it's the only way I can get my ideas to the Sinners, because otherwise they'll never know about it or even think about it!" - Lilith sighed as she heard her daughter's words, kneading the bridge of her nose tiredly.
"Charlie..." - As if only expecting this situation, the mother's goat carried in the news papers. The servant selected only the most "relevant and honest" issues, or even edited them, as her father had given the goat that opportunity. - "I guess it can wait."
Charlie, on the other hand, couldn't wait to read her article. She and her mom knew that this was the issue where she'd get her article, where they could see how the paper had edited her ideas. Charlie excitedly went through the lines of the paper while her mom grinned through the other waste paper, occasionally glancing at it.
"Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong... Who the hell is this Silence guy? That name didn't exist a year ago, and now he's in the news so often...", Charlie thought as she leafed through the paper. She opened to a page, quickly running her eyes over it until....
"There it is!" - Charlie exclaimed happily, lifting the paper itself up, to the quiet laughter of her mother. Charlie immediately began to read what was printed, while her mother continued to sort through the waste paper.
Charlie was thoroughly engrossed in her first positive debut, never noticing her mother's face frowning as she pulled out a letter.
"That's it, yes... That's right... I wrote it a little differently here, but the point is still there... That's right here, reworded here... And what was it they didn't like about the words 'rainbow' and 'kindness in the heart'? Even so... It's my first paper!", Charlie literally squeezed herself into the paper on which her paper was printed. All that remained was to check for odor, though Charlie wouldn't....
"Honey, you've got letters." - soft and yet... irritated? Wary? Charlie was surprised by this intonation of her mother's, but only for a moment.
Did someone send her a letter?
"Really? From who?!" - her voice made Lilith laugh, and she ruffled her hair again.
"Your first review, from an old acquaintance." - Her mother replied with a soft smile and a strange intonation in her head.
Wait... An acquaintance?
Charlie picked up the nice-touch envelope with some strange stamp on it and hesitated, looking at the seal. Not that she was complaining...
But Charlie, aside from the Von Eldritch family, didn't have that many friends... And that, she had a... ambiguous relationship with the two young demons of that family. But anyone else? Seal was no match for the Sins, definitely not Asmodea or Beelzebub, if they wanted to send her something they would have used other methods, but here...
Charlie turned the letter around, examining every millimeter of the strange-looking paper or parchment. On the back of the letter was the inscription, "To Young Miss, daughter of Lilith," in beautiful italics.
Wait, isn't that the one... A Sinner in a black cylinder, strangely white skin, and an unusual smile... Good Mister! The first Sinner that didn't immediately laugh (or ignore or criticize...) upon hearing her ideas!
Perhaps she should have been upset that of all the Sinners, the one she seemed to be supposed to help, she knew only one, and that was only a brief encounter... But what an encounter!
Charlie gingerly touched the seal, intending to take it off gently, until... The seal itself seemed to sink into the envelope, and she opened it, revealing....
White paper with text on it. Two papers, one folded, clearly larger than the first, which was a letter.
Charlie, ignoring her mother's stare, began to read the letter...
"
Dear Young Miss.
I hope this letter reaches your hands in one piece; after all, your mailbox is hard enough to find, and I prefer to keep silent about the delivery itself, for it is a message not worthy of such harsh words, especially to your eyes.
How are you doing? I saw your article in the last issue of the paper. I liked your work, although, according to our, already established tradition, I must add a couple of points of criticism, solely for your growth and development ...
"
Charlie- Charlie was a sensitive soul, she openly expressed her emotions. If she was upset she clearly showed it, if she was happy she was ready to embrace every soul. If...
If she was praised, she would drop tears. Especially if it was praise for what she had done, for what she had put her soul and labor into. This praise... Even if diluted with remarks or advice, was deserved for her efforts.
Even if it was the only positive feedback on her work, she was still glad that at least someone had bothered to read her work, besides her parents. She was glad that someone actually took her ideas seriously, something her parents couldn't, even though they loved her dearly.
"Honey?" - Her mother's concerned voice was ignored, she wanted to reread the lines of the letter over and over, wiping away small tears. With a hum, she reread the end. Again.
"
...Sim, I wish you luck in your endeavors, dear Young Miss.
The ideas you've proposed do have a place, believe me in my experience (a debatable statement, since we're in Hell)! I myself have personally seen a couple of examples of such things, working examples, by God, I've been doing it myself!
Your ideas may be a bit... Underthought for use by Sinners, because what I described happened only on Earth, where everything is different, but nevertheless. People remain people, even going to Gehenna, they remain themselves, even if they change after some time. Often for the worse, but some (you won't believe it) for the better. At least compared to past selves.
I wish you meet more criticism and arguments. Why? It is only by overcoming such obstacles, developing and improving your ideas, that you will be able to build the deen ways of your Redemption. Who knows, maybe you will one day create your own circle for souls who want redemption?
I don't know what your parents think, but personally I think there is truth in what you say. As a sinner, I just want to believe that I have a chance to redeem myself before God, that I can go to Paradise and meet my loved ones there.
I don't know how many supporters you have, but know that you definitely have one more in my face.
I don't know what that support is worth, but I'd love to see what comes out of your ideas.
I wish you success in your endeavors and in the field of personal growth.
Sincerely yours, Good Mister.
"
Charlie sobbed.
She wasn't touched by the letter, not at all, no....
It was just that something had hit her in the eye...
It was just that someone had believed in her, sincerely and truly, she thought. She really wanted to believe it, just to believe that out of all the Sinners in the Ring, there was another one as crazy as her...
Not any of her parents, she... wanted to believe that they supported her dreams and aspirations, but realized they didn't take her seriously. Not someone from Von Eldritch, though she doesn't even hope that at least Seviathan will try to get into her dreams. Not any of the demons she knows...
"Charlie?" - A softer voice, full of concern and worry, was heard from her mother. She stepped closer, placing a palm on her shoulder.
Charlie knew that this Sinner might just be trying to gain her trust, to get to her mother or father through her. She'd gotten letters like this before, but this one....
So many details that those Sinners simply omitted or didn't even bother to mention... And even then, in person, Mister didn't strike her as someone who would lie to her face... At most understatement, but for Ada that was already a significant difference!
"It's okay, Mom..." She wiped her tears with the sleeve of her sweater, handing the letter to her mother, who was going over its lines with an ambiguous expression. Her face changed a couple times as she read it. From wariness, to rolling her eyes, to... a faint smile.
Her mom had definitely remembered or realized something, while definitely not sharing it with her.
"I'm glad your work has its first fan, my dear." - Lilith gently stroked her hair. - "It's just..." she slowly set the letters aside, averting her gaze. - Let's hold off on taking the word of a simple letter and words, okay? You know...
"Yes, Mom." - Charlie raised her voice a little, which made her mother sigh tiredly. - "Sinners lie all the time and want to use me, for whatever purpose. They're cruel psychopaths that want nothing more than to spew their sin on whatever is freely given to them." - Charlie said irritably as Lilith shook her head.
"But dear..." - a wry smile crept over her mother's face, meaning-" "You've made the first acquaintance I've even met before, you'd just put me on notice of his existence." - Charlie only sighed heavily at these words.
"Ma-a-am!" - To which Lilith only laughed.
Yes, it had gotten a little ugly with Seviathan, which made her mom a little dislike their friendship, but so what? Just being friends, just discussing all their dreams and sorrows, talking about her parents and future plans? Isn't she an independent demon? At least Seviathan didn't laugh at her ideas like this Helsa....
And now, if she tried to say she couldn't do it, she would personally find Mister and make him (very politely, perhaps even on his knees and promising something from her father) explain everything to that pompous bitch!
"Cha-arlie..." - her mom immediately understood everything just by seeing her face. - "You're thinking about..."
"Mom!" - another shriek from her daughter, followed by her mother's affectionate laughter.
...
The underworld. Silence. 1933.
In spite of all the discomfort, the initial dislike and a certain squeamishness, William was able to enter a kind of "Flow".
A Flow in which he could forget where he was, or rather, not be so nervous and worried about it. A Flow in which there was only William, his plans and those they concerned.
And Charlotte.
Right. William was able to settle his work routine, if the affairs of the Lord of Silence could be called that. Those Sinners with their constant attempts to cheat his system, wanting to "settle" into his neighborhood by any means necessary... How tired he was of killing them, getting their souls. No, he had already accumulated about fifty thousand souls, which was not a lot for an Upper Tier Overlord, but it was more like a normal amount for a Middle Tier Overlord, but....
These souls were just 'dusting' in his soul stones. Baland's project hadn't been realized yet, just general formulas and first prototypes, but everything pointed to a quick, couple of years at this rate, realization of his project. By Virgil's standards, that was turtle speed, because in Paradise he could have done it in six months to a year... But William didn't want to remember Paradise too much.
Souls were being stolen. Sinners finally realized that if they pissed off the Silence, they would not be reborn, losing a part of themselves, but would simply... "disappear". Which made him even more feared than the "Main" Overlords.
...The unknown. That's the main fear of these idiots. They can only speculate, making guesses or hypotheses without ever knowing the truth. They simply don't have the critical information without which they can't even think of the right thing to do. William was completely fine with that.
As for Charlotte... William decided to... not make a joke, but just have some fun and do a couple good deeds.
While all the Lords, and he asked, were laughing or taking the Princess's ideas as a new game by the aristocracy of Hell, as a cunning plan by Lucifer or some other nonsense, he...
Just started running her articles in the newspapers in his neighborhood. Television, whose programs and news were led, for the time being, by a henchman, dressed in an expensive tuxedo and an improved speech apparatus, so that he could at least be listened to in some way, was constantly broadcasting news of Charlotte's new article.
Residents who tried not to leave the Silence, fearing that they would simply be killed to make way for a new place, simply... Desperately began to read these articles... Some of them even got into it! To William's surprise, there were indeed a pitiful handful, often his "infected", the most adequate part of them that at least did not lash out at others. They agreed with Charlotte, little more than laughing at the 'childish' ideas of the age-old demon. Criticism, condemnation, and more.
He continued to write her his reviews, rarely getting a response, in the form of a return letter sent by some strange flying goat, where he and Charlotte continue their little game of Young Miss and Good Mister. William and Charlie, in his opinion, found it amusing, and the Fallen Angel himself didn't mind, for it was a welcome relief from his daily routine with these... Degenerates, who were not so welcoming of Charlie's writing.
They'd agreed with some of Charlie's ideas, some, seven souls to be exact, had even tried what Charlie had suggested... and were disappointed when the methods didn't work. It was easier for them to continue taking drugs, alcohol and tobacco, while engaging in debauchery, fighting or whatever instead of putting any restrictions on themselves.
Some of Charlie's methods could really work, William admitted. It was just that for the Doomed, Hell was Paradise. A place where they could do whatever they wanted. No rules or restrictions. Nothing like they had on Earth. For these souls, that's what Utopia was.
No stupid laws that prevented normal kids from building their future. No prohibitions from society that condemned all their "pranks" and "trifles" like pedophilia or cannibalism. Nobody cared what you did, you could fuck a doll all day long, it was your business.
No one cared about anyone, only the power and authority of the "alphas", the Lords, kept Sinners from degrading into animals.
What about Paradise? All the same, but without drugs, alcohol and you can't even fuck a boy? The horror!
"Truly, damned and doomed souls...", William thought as he went about his usual business. Making formulas for the Weave, doing calculations and 'drawing' with 'writing' for Quintessence and Entropy. Ordinary Business.
William genuinely hated this place and these souls. Most of them. Some, such as the 'infected' who had only gone to Hell because they'd been influenced by his Song... or a couple... about fifty or so really... gray souls who weren't bad or completely doomed themselves.
He had been introduced to them by Zestial, or rather the fact of their existence, now his regular companion or the one with whom he periodically gathered for tea, discussing pressing matters or simply sharing thoughts.
It turned out that in the neighborhoods of Zestial and a couple of his acquaintances, yes there were a couple of such souls. They weren't much different from the rest of the Sinners, but... William himself, as a Fallen Angel, saw it in their souls, and just by following them with the help of the Sliders he could tell for sure... They tried to cling to their humanity.
They avoided death, when the soul of the Sinner with anguish left the usually tortured body and with even greater agony embodied a new shell. All the pain was as if "imprinted" in the soul, like... that Flame... causing the Sinner to lose a small, literally imperceptible, piece of his former self.
The difference from Sinner to Sinner, strong and strong-willed individuals lost themselves much later, especially if they didn't die, Lords as an example, but... Sooner or later, it caught up with everyone.
He dug into the memories of Cinderella, Aphrodite, Rakuss, partially Zestial, when he was particularly fascinated by the screams and agonies of the souls in his Silence, when they were out for a walk...
They were naturally losing their memories. They were forgetting their lives on Earth. Details, imperceptible bits and pieces, but they forgot. The "insignificant" moments of life in Hell were erased from memory, the gray everyday life was erased, although Sinners, even compared to humans, have excellent memory.
"Though... depends on the soul and the Sinner himself," William thought, remembering Rakuss's mind and those 'white screens' when he tried to learn something more about the Demon Bands....
One way or another, William continued his life, if it could even be called that, in Hell. Genesis, diluted by socializing with Charlotte, was tolerable. He found a couple of good acquaintances, the same Zestial... Everything.
What else...?
Ah.
Adam, Lute, the Sisters of Shield and Slaying. A sinner's worst day. A day on which any Sinner, no matter how strong, could die and never be reborn.
Good thing William was a Fallen Angel.
...Okay, William... Pretty soon was able to get used to this day. Yes, his neighborhood was being destroyed by Valkyries, his Dwellers were dying (in a strange coincidence, they were all either in the way of other Dwellers or had too many infractions to escape his gaze or the Police), and he, like the other Lords, had to rebuild his neighborhood, albeit not on the same scale, but it was taking a lot of energy.
Adam, along with Lut, would fly into the neighborhood for "tea parties", covered by his weave, for the sake of appearances, destroying his neighborhood and killing its Inhabitants. Except for the 'infected', which were marked with a special mark on their souls that the angels could see.
Just relaxing breakfasts-lunches-dinners with his old friends. Exchanging news, gifts as William gave away his bling or just trinkets made from materials from Earth while Adam listened or passed on what he wanted to William. Books, manuals, anything Adam could take from Heaven. Often, they were rewritten copies, but William was sinful to complain.
Under the silent support of Lute, he told about his "adventures" as a priest Richard, that he had risen in the ministry, periodically purifying souls, collecting "polluted" energy not in himself, but in the "Spoil Stones", which stored the "samples" used in his research...
Which he did in his spare time... Which never came.
He would have to deal with his "partners" as soon as possible and take possession of their souls and conduct a test "run" of the prototype of Project Balanda...
William would have been about to make himself a new mug of tea as he finally noticed an oddity.
His "contracts", seal contracts... Didn't feel right. He decided, for the first time in a week, to do a 'standard' check of his seals that sealed the contracts with his partners.
William stood up, listening to the sensation.
Nothing.
He pulled the strings of each contract, the Construct of Shali that was supposed to "protect" each Overlord. His investments, for the future, the ones that would form the basis of the Ideal-type Constructs. His plans, the ones that would allow him to completely end the affairs of his neighborhood with its damn Inhabitants.
Arbito, Duclas, Aphrodite... Nothing. It was as if their souls had vanished... He knows of course that the Sinners have holy weapons, the same Arbito definitely had his own series of models... But if they were killed with holy weapons, he would somehow be able to feel their deaths. To feel their souls disintegrate into the Ring, becoming part of the city...
Nothing, it was as if the souls had simply vanished somewhere.
William dropped what he was doing and with a snap, he "outfitted" himself. All his clothes appeared on him in a flash. The cane dived into his hand as if it had always been there while William....
Slowly but inexorably became angry. Like a kettle boiling over with overflowing emotions.
"Someone decided to ruin my plans...", William was... calm. No rage, no anger... Just a cold and clear thought.
"As soon as I find whoever decided to lay their hands on my..."
The mask began to blacken...
Lirds, Rakuss, and... Cinderella... The last one was the one to tell what had happened. Or rather, what had become of her soul, for only Cinderella had received his 'gift' directly on her soul. The construct that was supposed to protect the soul when the shell was destroyed, taking it away to please William had only one flaw.
If that soul was stolen by someone else.
William hadn't considered the possibility that someone else, presumably the Sinner, might have a similar ability. To take souls for his own purposes.
The souls are still intact... If that could be said for the souls of Lords who spent more than a few centuries bathing in Sin and the suffering of other souls. No...
William could even track down this... Intruder that was now somewhere in the Cannibals' neighborhood or so...
"The gifts are ready, it's time to find someone to give them to... Preferably with lethal results, because the soul of this... Interesting specimen must be worth something if it can absorb souls, especially without triggering my Constructs...", William was now able to process information habitually in several streams of consciousness. The process was not as migraine-inducing now as it had been in the early days. Three streams of consciousness, two of which were allocated to traveling to the target and the 'gifts' themselves, especially one... experimental...
"Really... What is this... It's not like a normal Sinner... Not with one like this... Could it be the effects of the Song's effect on souls, especially of this caliber?", the sudden thought cooled William's ardor. The rage was still inside, waiting to happen, but William temporarily diverted the emotion to the fourth stream of consciousness, with a small flash of pain, allowing William to think relatively straight.
It turns out that this Sinner, and it is a Sinner, the feeling from the soul would not lie, for demons do not possess such properties... Could this be an example of the effect of the Song on a soul strong enough to have such power?
Otherwise, William simply couldn't explain this anomaly. On the one hand, it was likely that William felt roughly similar to Sera, Adam, or other knowledgeable angels... But this... It was like a green swamp, or a rotten corpse....
William allowed himself a few more minutes to prepare. Quieted his emotions, released the excess stream of consciousness, easing the pressure on his mind...
He looked at what the Crawlers were showing him.
One of the nicest looking neighborhoods, with some of the nastiest Sinners in the Ring. Cannibals. William didn't know if it was a curse, but they... Or if they became what they ate - human, which was why they were still mostly human, except for the absence of eyes, which were black, empty eye sockets filled with something... Something. And also this kind of Sinners had sharp teeth, as if they were predators like sharks or something worse....
And as for that Sinner.
Red palette. Pale skin, like a corpse, which is typical for the Cannibal Sinner, and sharp teeth, not rotten with a yellowish tint, but... Clearly healthy teeth of a wolf, lion or... Wendigo?
A red jacket or surtoute in a vertical red and white line, a dark red bowtie with a bright purple stone. The shirt, if William's knowledge of the fashions of his century holds good, was a little brighter than the surtoute, with black crossed lines.
High collar, on the hands either gloves with red and sharp tips or his new claws, which, to continue the Wendigo theme of eating human meat, suited this Sinner very well. Dark pants and shoes with red tips completed the very well-groomed look of this... Deer.
On his head, standing out in a red hairstyle-caricature, in addition to those... ears? Hairy ears, small, probably deer antlers stood out. Against this background, the Deer Sinner, which is either a Wendigo-cannibal or something else, stood out brightly a cane - made in the form of a microphone, probably for radio broadcasting, if William's knowledge of this kind of entertainment does not change.
And the Sinner's aura itself...
"Oh you fucking son of a bitch...", William could clearly sense souls that had not yet been touched by magic, and something more of these Sinner's deer tricks William couldn't call it, someone who'd staked his...
This gentleman, as clearly demonstrated by his manner and gait, immediately recognizable to William, was just... strolling, somewhere near the "Cannibal City", either moving away or going to the "city" itself, whistling something to himself....
Concentration. Fury. Desire. An order.
William cast the necessary weaves on himself, partially shifting into another dimension, changing the coordinate of his body. Now he could not be seen by a mere Sinner, which has no "flair" for souls.
One more weave, which should take away attention and muffle such trifles as noise, smell, weight, shadow... Making him almost invisible, merging with his surroundings.
Each Entropy-enhanced formula pressed down on his body, consuming large amounts of energy...
William went to a new "business" meeting...
...
A beautiful day in Hell.
A place where a new soul had arrived, determined to make himself known so soon and so loudly as probably one of the strongest "Overlords", if he understood the term correctly, in this "new generation".
Every fly that chose to look down on him, every one of them pathetic...
Sinner's thoughts were interrupted by a blow that practically nailed him to the nearest wall. The Sins walking nearby must have immediately recognized the attacker and rushed to flee.
It was a good blow that pierced through his stomach, and if those rumors about regeneration and the sensations of his new power here were true... then he could survive this wound....
If he could survive the encounter...
If he wasn't wrong, and there was at least some truth in the many rumors, then he was facing...
Zephyr, the Demon of Silence, or simply "Silence". A strange Overlord that is rumored to own not a single soul, though his "police" district grows in proportion to how many idiots die, and don't return, in his district...
Sinner... This... Black flames instead of hair, which had a similar effect, constantly wriggling, eyes blazing with blue energy and mouth, and otherwise this half-smile, half-fracture instead of mouth he could not call....
A white scarf or shawl, wrapped instead of a bowtie or tie, a black vest with faint patterns of gray flowers and lozenges, almost invisible on the vest itself. A black cape-coat with a white inner side that developed from the wind invisible to the eye, and a black cylinder with a navy blue ribbon, created the image of a
A very kind and pleasant-looking gentleman, who clearly had good taste in dress and appearance, if anyone asked him! Even if he had impaled him, either with a spear or something else, it was a small thing. Surely in the Silence they just say hello like that, after all, couldn't a Sinner in such a fancy and expensive-looking suit wish him anything but good things?
"Good afternoon, Young Stag." - Silence spoke up, and the Sinner's eye twitched faintly at the nickname.
"Good day to you, too, mister!" - "Deer Boy" tried to laugh, spitting blood. In his voice, as he noticed, radio effects began to play, further embellishing his speech with their addition. For example, the audience chuckles he included on his broadcasts were now so obvious.
"Don't think I'm being rude," The Fawn tried to stop the blood, making the most of his new powers as his voice was accompanied by radio effects distorting his speech. I mean, complementary, yes... - "but don't you think, good mister, that starting a new acquaintance with an attempted murder is a bit over the top?" - The smile did not leave his face, even though it was faded by the pain that seemed to burn through his body rather than stretch it.
"Not usually, no way." - Silence nodded. His voice was accompanied by similar effects, but here... It was like an echo, stretching somewhere in the depths of the dark room, in which the Fawn felt something... Scary. - But not when someone spoils all the cards for another and decides to do some serious, rash things, especially when that other didn't do anything wrong to the first one. - He didn't move, but Sinner clearly felt, with all his skin, that he could finish him off in an instant.
In spite of all his new strength, in spite of all his previous... "There's always a bigger fish for every big fish," isn't there?
"Oh, not to be impertinent, but can you notify me of my transgressions against you, Mr. Silence." - to the words of the Sinner, the Lord of Silence did not react. - "I am, you see, new here, have not yet had time to learn the local laws and statutes. Please enlighten me, if it's not too much trouble..." - "Fawn" slowly rose up as the green threads sewed up the wound and rebuilt his body. Like a puppet coming to life, he was regaining mobility.
"You recently stopped by my acquaintances. High Ranking Lords who had agreements with me that are voided with their deaths. Especially when their souls are stolen." - ' The fawn tried to hide the twitching of his hands as his interlocutor began to press his voice. - "You didn't coordinate this with me, you didn't know about my plans for these souls, you didn't know you were crossing the line of what's allowed, Mr. Staggs." - There was no humor or emotion in his voice, just cold facts coming to his ear as if from somewhere far away.
"Alastor, good mister." - The self-appointed man bowed lightly, holding onto his cane with a trembling hand. - "Pleased to meet someone who has some taste in his clothes!" - The broad smile, squinted red eyes, and soft "radio" tone that accompanied him had no effect on Silence.
"Zephyr, Lord of the Area of Silence." - Alastor nodded to his presumed assassin. - "Nice to meet you, Mr. Alastor."
"Likewise, my colleague in style!"
...
William... had mixed feelings about this "Alastor".
The cannibal reeked of sin. He could literally swipe a finger that would turn red from the Sinful Deer's spilled blood. A cannibal, a psychopath, and those thoughts and behavior could not be explained by anything else, probably had something to do with radio, if the radio symbolism in his appearance was any indication.
He was also very strong.
William wasn't lying or exaggerating. The deer did have great strength. William couldn't say for sure whether this soul would have become such a soul on its own and would have been incarnated in Hell, or whether it was the influence of his Song, which manifested itself in a way that was within the error of William's predictions of harm to souls... Or whether there was a third power involved that William didn't know about.
The Sinner... didn't smell... as if William had been doused in some viscous and nasty liquid-mixture that prevented him from taking a full breath of air.
While still human, this soul could have served someone or been a member of a demonic cult. Maybe something else altogether, for it wasn't only Goetia's demons that Hell and its creatures were limited to.
If this Sinner's power is his own, then William can safely say that the Song has influenced Alastor in some way. If the Stag has contacted someone else, receiving his power for a price, then...
It was... astonishing, for William could see the growth of such a thing. To see what Hell does to a mentally unhealthy person. William could die, but Alastor had killed six Overlords that even William couldn't handle. Not in one go, not in a rush. Alastor, on the other hand.
Killed his partners, maybe some others along the way. Contingent power or not, William was forced to reckon with it, just paying a modicum of respect to the deer sinner's deed.
"Mr. Alastor, I'll be blunt, you have ruined my plans for the souls of these Overlords." - The designated Sinner only grinned. Or rather, his smile grew even wider.
He was slowly coming to his senses, regaining his confidence with each passing moment.
"What I've learned in my short stay in these beautiful places is that the simple, almost childish, rule of Whoever has time to eat, eats," he said. - as if sung by the Sinner's words, which were distorted by radio effects. - "I apologize for your disappointment, but I needed those souls too, I just got them early."
With Alastor's words, William had to agree. There is no such thing as property in Hell. Only what you can take or protect with your power.
"But they were also my dear partners in providing me favors in return for my help." - William said softly, causing Alastor's clawed fingers to clench tighter at the top of the microphone.
Alastor's power came out. If William had been 'younger', he would have started to get nervous. Alastor, on first impression, was clearly stronger, though that wasn't certain. He had a strange power that could kill the strongest of the Lords in a short time, so that the Fallen Angel, though relatively young, understood something about Creation.
Now, having gone through the Flame, having gone through the Fall, and having been in this Hole for a couple years, William ...
William held back a chuckle.
If he had assessed the situation correctly, then....
They both thought that each of them would lose when fighting the other! When as William still hadn't recovered his strength, or rather hadn't adjusted his shell to the necessary level, then Alastor....
Realizing the situation, William felt like laughing.
They are both strong enough to give a fair fight to each other, albeit without a clear winner. They both have abilities unknown to each other that could unpleasantly surprise their opponent. But neither of them wants to use their powers, because they simply don't know the other's intentions.
Alastor, simply due to his inexperience and lack of experience in managing his powers is simply unable to fully appreciate his level. He must have heard of William, his reputation and rumors about the Slaying, along with his treaties.
That's what a good image does to a man. It works for him, protecting him from situations like this. Truly one of the best jokes William has pulled off while in Hell.
Alastor had not yet tasted the taste of combat, the taste of power that could kill the strongest Overlords. William, on the other hand, knew that he was capable of defeating a weak Goetia demon with a huge list of conditions, if given the chance. Maybe someone stronger, but that didn't matter.
What mattered was that they both weren't the type of souls that would want to risk anything for an ephemeral chance to prove something. No, they would both remember this moment and get revenge on the other later. William liked that.
"So I propose a compromise." - William tilted his head, leaning on his cane, slowly walking closer to Alastor. - "You keep the souls of the Overlords, for you need them as much as I do, but you give me three of them." - At William's words, Alastor's eyes narrowed and his smile faded.
"...And what if we don't agree?" - A wary tone, hidden behind Alastor's feigned playfulness as he tilted his head slightly, resting both hands on his cane-microphone. - "No offense intended, but as a newcomer, I could use six strong souls. You realize that each of us doomed sinners need to survive, surrounded by foes and deceptions on all sides." - Alastor's voice was strained, so much so that the radio effects were almost gone from the voice, exposing the probably real one.
"Hmm..." - William tapped the cheek of the mask for the sake of appearances, looking away. An empty street surrounded them, with only a few particularly brave Sinners peeking out from their hiding places, literally with one eye. - "Then I suggest the following." - William swung his cane once, striking it against the masonry, and leaned on it with both hands.
Alastor nodded politely, warily examining his shell with the eyes of a hunted beast seeking escape from the hunter's clutches. Alastor promises to be a powerful Overlord, if that power is not borrowed or has any potential to grow, the Stag will clearly take his place at the top of the chain of Overlords, now, of the new generation.
The likes of William and Zestial would stay and make new treaties and agreements while the likes of Alastor played their games for power and the title of "biggest toad in the swamp". William was perfectly happy with that prospect.
"You and I will make a pact identical to the ones I made with my former colleagues, and then I will take my souls and we will simply part ways." - William's fingers snap and a flying parchment appears next to him from light blue threads, blue energy emanating from it. - "I offer to sweeten the deal for you. I'm only taking two souls in exchange for three."-William held out his hand, from which came a slight distortion, like interference on a television set.
Alastor looked at the outstretched hand as if assessing the quality and weight of the meat on offer. His gaze darted between the paper, the outstretched palm, and William's face, which was frozen in one position like a statue.
"May I review the terms of our future agreement?" - Alastor answered, changing his tone to a more relaxed one. - "After all, one should know the price at which souls are sold these days, shouldn't one... Partner?" - As if regaining his composure, Alastor raised one eyebrow in a grin that turned into a grin.
Instead of answering, a parchment simply flew up to Alastor, which Alastor took with concealed apprehension. His eyes quickly ran over the entirety of what appeared to be a rather short text.
Alastor was surprised. From such a powerful demon, he had expected... More. The contract stated that Alastor could not harm the Inhabitants of the Silence area, either by action or inaction, and also... As much as possible... ignore the Silence of Zephyr, as if to forget about him. Likewise - not harming, not disturbing in any way, except for the need for 'desire', phrased as if this Zephyr really could give him anything he wanted with a snap of his fingers...
"Do soul Lords really get around like that, or is this Silence the exception to the rule?", Alastor cursed his ignorance. He hated it when he agreed to something without knowing the full picture. He'd heard all the speculation and whispers... but for them to be true, and such a powerful Sinner unwilling to expand his influence? He is, after all...
The Lord of Silence had somehow found him, somehow gotten close to him and struck a nearly fatal blow, so that Alastor, with all his strength, had not noticed until it was too late. Silence could have killed him right there, while he was still awake, with a finishing blow, but instead he just... decided to settle.
Silence still stood there, unchanged, like a frozen image, like a picture in those crappy TVs, he just stood there, as if he didn't notice the wind or gravity. Alastor was alarmed by this behavior. The Demon of Silence wasn't angry, wasn't trying to kill Alastor, no he wanted to negotiate.
"Is there really a major plot twist coming later in this idiotic play?", Alastor thought to himself.
Alastor sensed a catch in his gut. It was as if there was some important event happening right under his nose that he just couldn't fathom. At the same time, Alastor doesn't feel like he's being conned. The deal, for Alastor, is fair. He killed those arrogant fools, he's entitled to their souls as spoils of war, but... Zephyr just as clearly older than him has claimed them, clearly demonstrating his ability to simply take all the souls.
Instead, Zephyr probably decided to invest in a new partner, given that these Overlords would simply be killed by others once they were resurrected. It was as if he was just a businessman who didn't care about his clients' business. "One less, one more - probably about Silence," Alastor thought.
Alastor handed the parchment to Zephyr, shaking his hand. Small lines of blue energy swirled around them, making both their hems rise, and first a black and blue seal appeared on the parchment, the Seal of Silence, and then... His own. Deer antlers, a human skull...
Alastor shook his head. Returning his wide grin, peering into Silence's still blue-energized eye sockets.
"Now that we're done with that, Partner." - Alastor could clearly feel his horns lengthening, his body slightly enlarging, and on his forehead, as Silence could see, somewhere between his eyebrows, some sort of red cross was visible. Alastor let out some of his power, which had no effect on Zephyr. - "Why don't you take what's due you?" - Alastor extended his hand, in which six cards with cartoonish depictions of the Overlords appeared.
Arbito - big glasses on a small body in a white robe with four arms.
Now, green lines began to emanate from Alastor, clothed in dark shadows with symbols Alastor knew, and the neighborhood around them was filled with his power. He didn't hide his power, he savored it, intent on probing his new... 'partner'.....
"Will you quench my curiosity, Partner?" - Silence grinned, scrutinizing the proffered souls. It was as if Alastor hadn't even noticed what Alastor had arranged, which made the cannibal's eye twitch faintly. - "For what reason did you decide to steal these souls?" - Zephyr leaned into his outstretched hand, cupping his chin as if picking out goods in a market.
But, Alastor wouldn't be himself if he didn't know how to keep his cool.
"Oh, that... Rude Man was very, very presumptuous, since he thought no one alive today could evade his traps." - Alastor chuckled at the sound of radio laughter in his voice. - "He just didn't expect his finest creations to turn against him." - Another chuckle from Alastor under his playful tone.
"He was considered the strongest Overlord in the Ring, quite an accomplishment for a newly arrived soul, Mr. Alastor." - Zephyr nodded as Alastor grinned even harder. - "As for his partner?" - Pointed a long and sharp claw at a neighboring card, Duclasom. It was like a reanimated bag of eyes with horns lying around.
" Patient abuse, horrible experiments, and much more unworthy of such a conversation, Mr. Zephyr." - Alastor's chuckle was like the sound of a broken radio, the harsh and drawn-out sound of a jammed record. - "Almost insane, wanting to dissect all his employees and patients according to some preference of his." - There was no more laughter; Alastor, it seemed to William, really didn't like that kind of cruelty.
"Even a maniac has his principles... Amazing," William thought wryly.
William... was able to suppress a twitch of his hand when this lunatic decided to flood the street with his filth. It was as if he had doused William with the stinkiest of sewers, with corpses from the Great War floating in them, stuffed with the most horrifying gases and chemicals. William was more disgusted, to the point of disgust, than scared or afraid, though William probably didn't feel the latter. Just sensibly wary.
William thanked his luck, foresight, and good image work (and also God) that Alastor couldn't guess to just try to kill him the way he'd killed the other Overlords. Stag had a good chance, especially from this distance. William was ready, Adam himself had trained him for a reason, but....
William had never had to fight in such conditions, against an enemy of such strength.
"Big omission... I guess my pride and busyness have played tricks on me again," William thought, while outwardly he didn't show any emotion.
"And as for sweet Aphrodite?" - William ran his finger over the map. The card depicted an image of a pink-colored woman watching across the aisle as the pink form of a man demolished the blue figure of a woman.
Alastor's face twisted in disgust, as if he had found rotten fruit in a basket of peaches. His eyes became like the hand of some mechanism, either a clock or a radio transmitter switching waves.
"This fallen woman wished to romanticize a woman's betrayal of a man, presenting it as something 'special' and 'intimate', focusing on the feelings of betrayal and the realization of a man's infidelity." - Alastor replied with disgust.
"Fair enough." - William nodded, shifting his gaze to the Lirds' map. - "His?" - William asked, taking the map from Alastor's hand, to Alastor's slight displeasure, and examining it from different angles. A large shark being harpooned.
Now, Alastor's grin stretched into a satisfied mouth. Alastor looked more like a man remembering a recent meal than someone who'd been through a difficult and dangerous fight.
"An arrogant idiot who lives in fear of his own shadow." - Alastor covered his eyes. - "His screams and pleas were so..." - Alastor took a deep breath, as if trying to catch that moment again. Alastor's eyes, made a single turn and his neck twisted unnaturally like a doll's, but it was so fast, William barely had time to notice.
"Rakuss?" - Without any change in his face, William changed the subject, raising his voice slightly. Alastor returned his bloodthirsty grin, returning to 'normal'.
"Who?" alastor patted his eyes innocently. Even the radio effects were missing from his speech.
"Well played, dear 'partner'... Likes violence and verbal taunts... That's what we'll write down... Should I tell Adam to hunt down and kill that asshole?", William thought as he looked at the map, or rather the medium to the Lairds' soul.
He'd be able to pull out all the power, no matter where that Deerslayer stored it, just... how stealthily would he be able to pull off his con?
William continued the play of the two actors.
William silently pointed to the map, depicting an ugly, toothy puppet that was controlled by a multitude of threads, tearing that one apart.
"..." - Alastor quickly shot his eyes at the map in his hand as if it was the first time he saw that one. "A mediocre individual living in the shadows of others, not even worth mentioning." - Alastor replied irritably. The radio effects played interference, as if changing gears.
William's hand slipped to the map of Cinderella. It depicted a large, fat fish in a dress on a spit, surrounded by many hungry mouths. William immediately snatched up that card, and Alastor immediately put the cards away, lowering his hand. His horns returned to their former shape.
He said nothing about the last card, grinning, even though it was his "usual" expression, looking at his interlocutor and his new "partner".
The pressure of Alastor's power was gone, and William could relax. Neither of them is going to fight.
Now, William has one last act to play.....
"Say..." - William began, looking at the cards he had received. - "Your voice sounds quite familiar to me... I haven't heard you anywhere on Earth?" - William noticed how Alastor's eyes widened, perhaps even unconsciously. - "Maybe I've heard you on..." - William grinned as he heard a quiet snort of . - ... "radio?" - The bait worked, and Sinner Deer grinned, the grin becoming a satisfied smile that only occasionally resembled a bloody grin.
Sinner even pitched forward a little, twirling his microphone cane. Bringing it down to the ground with a satisfying clatter.
"Oh! I didn't realize my fame caught me here!" - Alastor placed his free left hand on his chest, indicating a barely perceptible bow. - "Of all places, but, to be here?" - Alastor chuckled briefly. - "I was working as a radio presenter, my new friend, so..." - Alastor and William struck up a simple conversation, starting to head somewhere south or west, maybe even east.
William didn't care about the direction, the main thing was to occupy this psychopath's ego to keep him enthralled and his mind weaving to finalize the groundwork for William's plan.
William didn't care about this maniac's past. He had died only this year, having been born somewhere around a couple years after William's own death. No, he remembered the rumors he'd heard while working in a church in London. He'd read newspapers that said there was some maniac who killed women while doing something else heretical.
At the time, William had written it all off as just another demon worshipper who collected victims to summon a demon or something like that... Who knew he was a psychopathic maniac, and the investigation and psycho profile of the murders clearly indicated that. William hadn't read about what Alastair had done with the bodies, only the conclusions, but that was enough for initial conclusions...
Which were fully justified, especially when William looked into the soul of that cannibalistic deer.
It was like taking a dip in the slop. A swamp filled with bones, rot and rotting corpses. William had never worked with other souls from Earth, much less mentally unstable ones, but this was... clearly not the case to start his career as a psychologist or Guardian Angel.
William no longer wanted to interact with the new future Overlord. They made a deal and Alastor, despite his backstabbing ways, will not break the agreement or William will just tear him apart. Alastor may be strong, and without training and a little reconnaissance, William would not dare to fight him directly, but if necessary... William would probably win if Alastor's power was his own, if it was borrowed, if it was from some Goetia demon... Then he would just wait a year and point Adam to the Sinner.
But that's a last resort. For Alastor, William had other plans.
A new specimen to study, a new "partner" to keep out of his business, and that was all William needed.
Alastor and William parted, if not as friends, the kind of friends who wouldn't kill each other at the first opportunity, then as good acquaintances who would put knives in each other's backs, but only when their contracts expired.
Both of them were fine with that.
Afterward... William showered and went to bed anyway....
Exactly after stealing another soul from Alastor. Aphrodite. Right during their little stop at some cafe in Cannibal City, when William had given them both chairs and food, for getting to know each other. Alastor preferred raw meat with blood, preferably deer, but William had no trouble creating a piece of carcass that had similar properties and flavor.
All in the name of keeping the Deer's mind and hands occupied.
Bambi was young and inexperienced with Sinners, Angels and all things magical. He just used everything ready-made, while William had eaten his way through rituals and treaties. Alastor didn't yet know that some things could be obtained by simply formulating sentences intelligently. So let him learn from this example.
William would have ignored Alastor's bloodthirsty behavior, blaming it on Sin or something like that, but... Alastor had interfered with William's plans by taking his grand prize in his little game. William felt the man should be taught a lesson, just cancel the debt without killing him.
A couple of speakeasies there, a couple of good alcohol here, some nice jokes, great conversation... Weave. Quintessence, Entropy, and...
Aphrodite's soul, which was somewhere in Alastor's possession... In the form of the same card, in full power, just... ended up somewhere else. The connection to Alastor's power was still intact, so the Stag never suspected anything, but once William returned to the Silence, summoning all three soul cards...
William managed to get a picture of Deer's face through the Crawler, realizing his loss... And there's no denying it, William had warned him about how souls work, and that's why he was in such a hurry when he did his job!
By the way.
What if in the same way... replace these souls with a "substitute" that would have an approximate "power reserve", but... less structured? Especially, if the prototype of "Balanda", to transform the energy of the souls of Sinners will pay for itself....
Naturally, such walks and "naive" in his self-importance Alastor will not get any more, but what is it if not a challenge to William's abilities? He loved such challenges, especially when they didn't involve other innocent souls who might suffer through his fault.
William just needed to figure out a way to "mark" the souls so he could give his "gift" to Alastor, which might even be preferable to him, since he liked raw and uncooked meat?
Anyway, William should wash himself of the stench... Relax in warm water, and then start his research....
He almost threw up when he looked into the degenerate's soul, it was a bit of a shock to find such a strong soul that could finish him off in an instant.
William was aware that he could have easily died that day. He didn't like it.
On the one hand, he was grateful to Alastor for such a reminder, on the other....
William didn't like the fact that three strong souls had been taken from him...