The Trial of the Century

White clouds billowed wispily amidst a throng of white marble columns holding up an ornately painted ceiling. The painting depicted the battle between the Archetypes and the newly fallen being now referred to as the Demon King, back when he first re-appeared out from the void. Between the columns on either side sat rows of golden benches, upon which sat a row of gleaming humanoid beings with wings of light shining in various colors, Uriel among them. The Archetypes had all made an appearance.

The primary feature in this space was the tall ebony desk, straightforward and unadorned, but large enough to fill a palace hall and emitting an ominous air. At this desk sat Triac and Raguel. Before them stood two-hundred stars, each one of them at the blue level. They were Azazel, Armaros, Arakiba, and the others, all in their true starry forms. They were currently wearing chains binding them to each other, with Azazel at the front. These chains, being made from the divine decree of Triac, were unbreakable and irresistible.

This was a hall created by Triac, after gathering and restraining the two-hundred watchers who had overstepped their bounds. His sense of aesthetics shone through even when casually making a room.

"Azazel," Raguel began in a judiciary tone, "You stand accused of conspiracy to corrupt, the leading astray of your brethren, reckless begetting of offspring, and perjury. How do you answer? Keep in mind, you stand before the Most High." Raguel warned.

Azazel trembled, his blue radiance dimming as he was overwhelmed by fear and regret. How had it come to this? "Raguel, please..."

Raguel's brows twitched at the familiar use of his name. There was a time when such a thing would've delighted him beyond reason. Now, however, Azazel had shattered all trust Raguel once had in him.

Azazel, noticing the subtle shift in Raguel's expression, shifted his tone. "I never intended to harm anyone. It's true I lied to you Raguel, and I truly am very sorry. I regretted it the whole way, I just... made one dumb mistake and everything spiraled out of my control." For once, Azazel was perfectly honest, but doubt was written all across Raguel's face.

The Archetypes in attendance, egged on by Uriel, began booing and jeering at Azazel's words, sending a cacophony of mockery through the region of space and scaring off a few skittish space creatures.

Triac silenced them with a wave. "We have heard his testimony. Move on, Raguel."

Raguel assented and turned his attention next to Armaros. "Armaros," Raguel was much more relaxed as he faced him, even chuckling as he said his name. This was the difference of expectations. "Do I even need to say of what you stand accused? I'm sure you were long prepared for this day."

Armaros giggled softly, "How long, you couldn't possibly imagine," He mocked. He proudly preened his malformed wings.

"Armaros," Triac spoke up suddenly, "Are you proud of your wings?"

Armaros stopped preening momentarily as he considered these words. What was the Most High getting at? He couldn't discern any trap in the words and so he decided to be truthful. "Most assuredly, Lord."

"You still dare call me Lord?!" Triac roared, revealing his wrath. His voice pealed like claps of thunder, and the entirety of space around them shook, the room which contained them threatening to break apart.

Trembling in fear for once, Armaros bowed his head, "Forgive me... Most High." The wrath of Triac was truly terrifying to behold.

"Forgive you..." A slight sadness crept up within the wrath in Triac's stare. "If only you had asked for forgiveness sooner, crooked one."

Armaros' trembling increased in frequency, "I- I have only done, no- I was forced! Forced by the Demon King, into betraying you. It was never my intention, Mighty One!"

"Forced by the Demon King? Hmm." Triac placed his hand on his chin, but his eyes narrowed looking at Armaros. "Let's find out, shall we?"

Armaros eyes widened as his back and neck straightened with a snap. Find out?

Triac raised his head high, "Demon King! Asmodeus! Come forth!"

A sounds like endless screaming resonated through the room and a black, tar-like spring erupted from the ground. A draconic roar echoed out and the black substance exploded outwards, revealing the Demon King Asmodeus within. The spectating Supernovas all gasped in surprise, fright, or both.

"Triac! You've called on me! Oh, I'm so delighted. You even know my new name." A mad grin spread across Asmodeus' face, his eyes gleaming with equal parts malice and obsession.

"I haven't let you out of my sight since Edo, Evil one," Triac coldly stated.

"Oh? I'm flattered." The Demon King winked flirtatiously.

"Silence." Triac commanded in annoyance. "You will speak when asked to." This wasn't a question or even a command, but a statement of fact, a divine decree shaping reality itself.

Asmodeus scowled and tried to speak, but no sound came from his scaly throat. He actually used his claws to tear open his throat in an effort to defy Triac's decree, but his efforts were futile. He was only left with a slowly recovering gaping wound in his neck while even the sounds of his breathing were muted. Eventually the Demon King Asmodeus merely flipped Triac the bird.

Triac wore a bemused smile. At least something enjoyable came from this mess. "Now, King of nothing, Armaros has made a testimony in which he states you forced him into his evil ways. I wish to go one by one listing them, while you will either say, 'It was' or 'It was not.' Any further necessary testimony will be decided upon after."

Armaros had nearly drawn himself into a ball, his malformed wings pulled close, the twisted ends splayed out at odd angles, making him resemble some kind of strange porcupine or stegosaurus. The Demon King was here, in all his horrid mockery of glory, before the supreme Most High. Both sides of what he represented through his years were face to face in front of him, even discussing him.

It was his worst nightmare. He was a double agent at heart, and he didn't want to truly serve the Demon King. The moment he started making crooked deals and schemes, Armaros knew he was fated to be banished from Triac's court, and started making contingencies. Stars weren't like humans. They possessed full knowledge and discernment of universal truths from conception. There was no room, nor any excuse, for wickedness. It was an instant casting out, even applying to His brightest, most favored star. However, Armaros had subconsciously been operating under a minor self-delusion that he just might be able to play both sides all the way 'til the end.

"First count," Triac began reading off of a list he conjured from nowhere. " Was it your idea for Armaros to seek advancement before his time?"

The Demon King cackled, "It was not." His eyes shone with a wicked gleam. He hated Triac but he loved Him, and he truly admired Him, though he despised his every work. Behold, the madness of a star swallowed by the void. He was currently admiring the craftiness of the Most High.

This was an event Armaros had spent an entire century planning and preparing, in order to advance to yellow level or beyond in secret without Triac's knowledge. When he finally underwent the process he had carefully researched, it hadn't advanced his level, but he had gained his mutated wings. He had used more layers of deceit to disguise the cause of this mutation as well. He had long been self-assured Triac was clueless about everything.

Now, in this trial where Armaros lay all his wickedness at the feet of the Demon King, his original scheme was ruthlessly exposed. The Most High couldn't possibly have missed these signs. 'That's the difference between us.' Asmodeus thought to himself. 'You underestimate your enemies too much.' It was true. While the Demon King was certainly mad, he was cunning as well. When he made a move against Triac, he always tried to act under certain advantageous universal laws that he could manipulate to keep Triac tied up in red tape. Armaros, on the other hand, merely cast smokescreens and called it grand scheming.

"Armaros, what say you?" Raguel directed his question at the betrayer sharply.

Armaros had already given up on everything. Every time he thought about working under the Demon King he felt like crying and sinking into oblivion. He knew his playful times were over. All he had left was Asmodeus, this mad fiend. He suddenly felt he could relate to how Azazel must be feeling about him. Thinking of Azazel, he was struck with inspiration.

"It's true. My little beauties were created in their current state because I had the courage to advance under new techniques..." As he prattled on in self-aggrandizing praise disguised as a confession, He simultaneously spoke to Demon King Asmodeus with his thoughts. 'I want to make a deal. Help me lay the blame for at least this recent batch of events at Azazel's feet.'

The Demon King chuckled inwardly. Fools make rash choices under pressure. He shot a hungry gaze at Armaros. It looks like he can finally consume him completely. 'Deal with you? You're on the verge of banishment, what can you offer to deal with the Demon King?' He shot this arrogant thought at Armaros. It was time to bait the hook.

Armaros struggled to think. He was a master schemer wasn't he? Surely he could come up with some form of leverage. 'I'll let you use my voice,' he thought at last. He knew the Demon King hated having his words bound by Triac's decree.

'Not good enough.' Asmodeus directly refused, and a hint of a smile began to creep onto his rough, scaly lips.

'Well what do you want!' Armaros nearly shouted in exasperation, barely remembering to keep droning aloud.

'I'll take your name.' The Demon King's wicked grin could no longer be suppressed. Armaros was a star, if he could become Armaros as well, he could gain a star's status.

Armaros shuddered, but as he thought about it, it was probably his only choice left with a semblance of an upside. Even if his identity was stolen, he would conceptually exist as his own separate being, and could gain a new identity given time. 'You have a deal.' He reluctantly agreed.

"And so to sum up, my wings are precious and gorgeous and no-one can tell me otherwise." Armaros wrapped up his vapid filibuster, as the Demon King's smile stretched from ear-hole to ear-hole.

This fool was walking willingly into the mouth of a lion. Asmodeus almost didn't want it anymore, the prey was so easy to grab. 'Well, Azazel, time to drag you as far down as you can go.' The Demon King thought to himself, cackling internally.