Chapter 522

The concrete floor was cold against her bare feet. Another day, another descent into the pit. Lilith walked the sterile hallway, each step a death march.

"Another day in paradise," a raspy, low sound came from behind her.

She turned to see Malphas, his black, leathery skin. His yellow eyes moved over her, assessing, calculating. He wasn't much for small talk, and when he did speak, it was never good.

"Paradise lost," she responded, her words dry, hollow.

Malphas grunted. A smirk twisted his lips. He enjoyed his work a little too much. A sadist, even by their standards.

They reached the end of the hall. The large, metal doors. The "situation room," they called it. Where the puppet masters convened, pulling the strings of human misery.

Lilith pushed the doors open. The room was large, round, a massive table in the center. World "leaders" sat around it, their human façades. Perfect, soulless masks hiding their true forms.

President Thompson, or rather, the demon wearing his skin, looked up. His eyes, black pits of nothing, found hers.

"Report," he demanded, his tone cold, like ice.

Lilith stepped forward. Her voice, when she spoke, was low and steady. A tool for a cruel job.

"Human resistance minimal," she said, "Disinformation campaigns successful. They suspect nothing."

Prime Minister Belrose, or the demon pretending to be her, chuckled. It was a dark, grating sound.

"Good. Increase the misery index. More wars. More suffering. Let them drown in their own despair," he said.

The others, the other demons wearing power, nodded. Agreement all around. No one said much unless ordered to. The ones that didn't last long.

Lilith watched them, her insides a roiling mess. This was her life now, spreading misery, a cog in a machine of suffering. There were no dreams to speak of. No family or friends. Nothing except a dark endless cycle of obeying orders.

They spent hours that day planning new horrors. Chemical warfare. Engineered famines. Civil wars. Each one designed to break humanity's spirit. That's all it was for these guys. A plan. Nothing to feel strongly about.

"Ensure the new virus strains are deployed. Target densely populated areas first," President Thompson ordered.

Lilith made a note on her tablet, her hand steady. Inside, a part of her screamed. She kept it quiet. It did no good.

After the meeting, she returned to her quarters. A small, bare room. A bed, a desk, a window overlooking a desolate city. Nothing was nice anymore, nor did she see anything nice happen anymore. Everything was empty and depressing.

She sat on the bed, staring out at the cityscape. The towering buildings, once symbols of human achievement, now felt like tombstones.

Suddenly, a knock at her door. She tensed, her senses sharpening. Unscheduled visits were rare. And rarely good. She didn't feel good about this one.

"Enter," she said, her voice even.

The door opened, and Malphas stood there, a predatory smile on his face.

"Lilith," he said, his voice like a hiss, "A word?"

She nodded, her gut churning. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. There were things that needed discussing in private, and all of them meant that it was time for Lilith to take the fall. She got the feeling that it would probably mean something really bad would be done to the human race, though it felt really bad already.

"The human project needs acceleration. A drastic measure is required. They are becoming harder to break. A new direction is required," Malphas stated, his yellow eyes fixated on her.

"And what measure is that?" Lilith asked, already knowing the answer would be bad, not for her sake, but for what the plan may entail.

"We need to break their greatest hope, destroy their symbols of unity," Malphas explained.

Lilith's stomach twisted. What new horror were they planning now? "What do you have in mind?" She kept it monotone, no reaction.

"Target their monuments, their places of worship. We will make them question everything," Malphas replied, a sinister glee in his tone.

"We need someone to handle the specifics," he continued, circling her slowly, a predator toying with its prey, "Someone disposable. Who do you think would fit that description, Lilith?"

Her heart sank. "You want me to oversee this?" She made her words even, as if she couldn't see it coming.

Malphas stopped in front of her, his smile wide and predatory. He nodded. Lilith had to give it to him; the plan was ingenious. Lilith knew the plan would never really fail; it was just to frame her, but it didn't matter to anyone what was true or wasn't. The other part of the plan that Lilith understood was that there really was no purpose to it other than causing maximum hurt to humanity and to see a demon squirm. There would be nothing satisfying in framing Lilith other than seeing another one of their own fall.

"Perfect," he said, his voice dripping with a satisfaction she despised, "You start immediately. And Lilith," his words sharpened, like a knife's edge, "No mistakes."

Lilith stood there, feeling numb, like the human's emotions that have died within their souls.

She knew this was a setup. A trap. They wanted her out, but she didn't know why, and at this point, she didn't care. If she failed, they would make an example of her, but even if she didn't, they probably had a backup plan.

She was meant to be discarded, but even worse, used to bring a new level of horror to the humans.

That night, she walked through the city, overseeing the operation. Soldiers, masked and armed, swarmed through streets. Demons disguised as humans for these soldiers, a mockery of leadership. The plan was to unleash a horde of demons to break into the most iconic structures of humanity. The White House, the Taj Mahal, the Louvre—each a symbol of humanity's greatest hopes, to be defiled, desecrated.

They stormed the buildings, destroying, defiling. Lilith watched, her face a blank mask, but inside, her mind screamed. It did little to soothe her emotions. She felt bad, for both herself and humanity.

A soldier approached, holding up a data chip. Evidence, he said, implicating her in the atrocities, but of course, that didn't make much sense. No human would even know what she was, nor had anyone ever seen her before this moment in time, and even so, they'd all have amnesia. Classic frame job.

"All set up, as ordered," he reported, "Human authorities will find this." He, at least, knew who she was, as well as he knew her status as a scapegoat. He had just been waiting for the frame to set in order to finally meet her. She didn't care much at this point; it was obvious.

Lilith nodded. Her part was done. She had made herself the face of this horror. The worst of all. She had played the traitor; nothing would save her, in this new world. Not only did she ruin any human relationships she may ever have, but there were demons who had already begun to act out a new hierarchy of leadership without her. There would be no room for her there.

The soldier turned and walked away. Another soldier approached her. This one was different. His eyes, for a moment, lost their black soullessness, but she could not find who it really was within.

"It's done. Go. We've managed to insert some failsafes, hidden amongst the many layers of data that you left for humanity to find. You should escape, you may be blamed, but this should make them think there is something to fight for, not all hope is lost," he whispered, "Run."

She stared at him, trying to understand. Why help her? Why now? But she knew better than to question it. She might as well, there is nothing else she can do. It won't help. But at this point, neither will staying.

"Thank you," she said, her tone flat, emotionless. It might as well be the truth; the words might as well mean what they meant.

Then, she ran. Into the night, into the desolate city. Away from the only life she knew. Not much to hope for, and in the grand scheme of things, it is useless. She had lost.

Days later, she found herself in a deserted town. A small, dilapidated house. She holed up there, trying to disappear, watching on her tablet as the world fell further into chaos. It seemed like she was successful in accelerating human demise, after all. She had framed herself perfectly, and though no one would ever know her or anything about her, at least humanity had seen the true face of their leaders, or so they thought.

One day, while scavenging for supplies, she saw them. Human soldiers, patrolling the area. Searching for her.

They spotted her. Their faces, grim, determined. Weapons raised. No different from her own soldiers, earlier. Just less powerful and a little more confused, with worse technology.

"There she is! The demon behind it all!" one shouted, his words full of righteous anger.

She didn't run. She was tired. So very tired. It was always the same, day in and day out. What was the point, anyway? There were too many variables, and it felt impossible to predict how things would be. She felt a strange numbness when thinking of her options. All were equally depressing, pointless, and futile.

They closed in, surrounding her. No way out. Not that she cared to even attempt finding a way. She felt that she had seen it coming, after all. Maybe if she fought, it would seem as if she was never a part of the demon faction in the first place. It was too confusing to even try to guess. All in all, a useless fight.

"You will pay for what you've done," another soldier said, his words sharp with hate.

Lilith looked at them. Their faces, twisted with hate and fear. They knew nothing of the truth. She was a tool. Just like they were, right at this moment.

"Do what you must," she said, her words empty. "But there's nothing much you can really change at this point, it will only give your life a purpose you want to fight for." Her voice did not break.

The soldiers exchanged glances, confusion and anger mixing in their eyes. But then, the first soldier stepped forward. His weapon aimed. It did not make much difference if it was a laser gun, a taser, or a ballistic weapon; in the end, she was too close to them and too slow to be able to put up much of a resistance.

"For humanity," he said, and he pulled the trigger.

The shot hit her in the chest. Pain exploded through her body. Agony beyond anything she'd felt before. Lilith knew human bodies weren't very strong. However, what really hurt was not having thought through this scenario well enough; she had failed, both to be an ally and a betrayer. Both a demon and a rebel.

She fell to her knees, her vision blurring. She had failed to protect herself adequately and failed to anticipate anything accurately. A total and absolute failure.

"Is that it? We did it. It's done," one of the humans said, "It's over, guys."

"Maybe. But maybe she had her own friends as well," another one spoke, "She betrayed them, after all, so it's logical she'd be scared and hiding. What if she did a deal with us? Why would she tell us we had nothing to win by trying to fight back?"

"Well, we did kill a real demon, in broad daylight. So maybe things are looking up. Or they don't know where we are. Let's call it a win and report back to base. We should celebrate today," the first man answered back.

As she felt life ebb away, she saw the faces of the soldiers. They believed they had made a difference, won some small victory in this unending war. There was nothing she could gain from dying, and nothing she would have gained by staying alive. It was hard for her to judge what was best.

But as she looked into their hopeful eyes, she knew the truth. The truth she had helped keep secret for so long. There was always something to gain in being helpful and collaborative. But not for her.

She wanted to tell them. To scream it from the rooftops. That this was just the beginning. That the real enemy was still out there. Still pulling the strings. This realization slowly came to her. A total failure of all planning and execution.

They had barely scratched the surface. It felt ridiculous, and yet, she had let it all happen, in all her failure to foresee it. And to do anything about it, either way.

She wanted to give them one last piece of advice. It didn't matter, but she had to. Her lips moved, trying to form words. Trying to tell them to be collaborative.

"There is hope," she whispered, trying one last time, feeling her throat grow tight, "When people can be useful to one another, and to each other."

The light faded. But not for them. She had one last regret as she faded; it was obvious she had always only tried to help herself, as usual. A failure, through and through. She did it again. She smiled as she felt one final burst of emotion.

The soldiers watched her, their faces filled with confusion. It's probably better that they never heard her last words; there would be nothing for them to understand. Nothing she could do about that.