Chapter 1: The Abyss Beckons

Kael Drakmor crouched in the bloody, bruised dirt, the taste of betrayal bitter against his tongue. His ex-comrades-in-arms closed in around him, their features twisted, their blades slicked with his blood. He should've seen it coming. He must have known by then that trust was currency he could no longer afford."

Yarn spun, a wry grin creeping across the treasonists face, he stepped forward. "You had your time, Kael. Now it's our turn. Goodbye... old friend."

The blade plunged into his chest."

Kael gasped, the pain a hungry fire ravaging his lungs. He fell, the world around him rolling away in dark, capsized darkness. And yet, giving off his life, there was overwhelmingly one thought on his mind.

This isn't the end.

Kael woke up to a world gone mad. The atmosphere choked with ash, the earth blackened and cracked beneath his palms. Molten rock flowed in rivers over a barren land, and glassy black spires tore through a blood-red sky. He was not dead — not quite dead anyway.

From the shadows came a low, guttural chuckle. "So, the mortal has arrived."

Kael zapped his icy stare at the body, which fluttered, eyes opening and closing in dazed surprise. A great beast, its shape shrouded in fire and shadow, loomed over him. Its voice was a thousand cries of anguish rolled into one.

"Who... are you?" Tell me who and why! Kael insisted hoarsely.

"I am the Abyss. And you, Kael Drakmor, are the one chosen."

"Chosen?" Kael felt stiff with fatigue and forced himself to his feet. "For what?"

"To inherit my throne." The Abyss took another form, shrunk, shaped the way it had in the past, into the pillars of a scarred, old king. Its molten eyes bored into Kael's. "Your death could only be a beginning. We've been betrayed, tossed away … but here, you rise. Take my power, servant, and take your vengeance upon those who did you wrong. Become the Vanguard of Hell."

Kael stared, his mind racing. The offer was madness. But in his heart, something smoldered — a hunger, a fury, a lust for revenge stronger than the fire that consumed him.

"What's the catch?" The twinkle kind of dies out; Kael squints.

The Abyss smiled, toothy serrations gleaming "Except that you need to be worthy. You do not simply take the throne of Hell. It is taken."

Kael moved to the front, a wicked smirk on his face. "Then let's begin."

Jolted, that very ground the roiling Abyss thundered in an echoing chorus of approval. Kael was filled with malice, like the blood through his veins had spontaneously combusted and altered him. It was night so the black armor was dark yet the red runes glowed in the twilight. His mere presence burned with a force that demanded submission, and his eyes glowed with the light of two sons.

They were no longer a man, Kael Drakmor. He was Hell's Vanguard.

And his vengeance had only just begun."

Kael's boots sank into the steaming earth while the portal swirled open before him, its edges snapping with darkness and fire. Two figures emerged, immediately commanding a regal sphere.

The first was a woman of extraordinary beauty with flowing silver hair like a waterfall of moonlight. Great ethereal wings — tattered and broken but still beautiful — radiated from behind her, their feathers glimmering faintly in the hellish light. Her face was a cold mask, her bright eyes rimming Kael with the sharpness of a blade. She carried an attitude of defiance, like she was here by choice, not by chance.

They were complete opposites in every way. She was a demoness, and she swayed like a predator, her red dress hugging every sinuous curve like liquid flame. Horns curled seductively from her head and her lips — as black as night — curved into a wicked smile. Where the angel had been suffused with a chill control, this one was raw, untapped power.

Kael glanced back and forth between them, the red of his eyes narrowing slightly. He'd also been cast into the Abyss, but still, this was a cruel surprise.

The voice of the Abyss sounded in his head, smooth and level. "Never do you wield power in a void, Kael Drakmor. These two — Liora, fallen angel; Morganna, demon queen — shall weigh your worth. If you win them over, that's when your ascendency begins. If you collapse, they will eat you alive."

Kael smirked. "Devour me? I'll take my chances."

Morganna, the demoness laughed softly and her eyes twinkled. "Confident, aren't you? I like that. But confidence doesn't make you the king of Hell.' She got up close, her voice dripping with mockery. "Let me see your power, Vanguard. Or are you just another puppet the Abyss threw at my feet?"

Kael didn't flinch. Instead, he turned his head and smiled, his mouth dark and stiff. "Careful, Morganna. My strings will be harder for you to cut than you think."

The tension between them crackled, like the flames at their sides.

The angel interrupted, her voice sharp as ice. "Enough games. The strength makes purpose — but strength without purpose is meaningless. Why should I follow a man sullied with revenge, Kael Drakmor? What is your goal, aside from using power as a blunt weapon?"

Kael looked at her. His face remained an immobile mask. "My goal?" He leaned into her with a deliberate step forward, his weight a heavy shadow. "To rise above the ones that had betrayed me. To topple their fragile empires, and show them who not to cross. If you believe that isn't meaningful, Liora, then you're welcome to walk away.'

The fallen angel pursed their lips into a straight line. She met his gaze without flinching; wings rustled just a little. "Vengeance, Kael, is a shallow well. But perhaps that is enough to get started."

Morganna's smirk widened. "I'll admit, you intrigue me. But intrigue is not what keeps you alive. So tell me, Vanguard, how do you intend to earn the loyalty of Hell's most dangerous women?"

Kael's grin turned feral. "By showing that I'm the most dangerous of all."

Both were in the process of filling out when the earth beneath them rumbled violently. Cracks opened in the ground, and molten lava burst forth as a deafening sound overcame the air. From the gaps crawled grotesque shapes, grotesque

manifestations armed with claws and teeth, deadly arrays of weaponry, glowing eyes fixed on Kael, and anyone who might be willing to stand with him.

The Abyss bowed, voice a cold monotone. "Now, your second trial begins. "It's survive, or die like so many before you have."

Kael drew his sword, dark energy thrumming along the blade with lethal intent. He glanced at the two women, his tone commanding. "Let's see whether you're worth the price of admission.

Morganna let out a laugh as her claws were engulfed in red flames. "Finally, some fun!"

Liora spread her wings and manifested a silver spear in her hands. "Don't get in my way, demon."

Kael grinned even wider as he pressed forward, meeting the first wave of monsters to charge. "Let's dance."

The battle had begun, chaos erupting from a swirl of flame, steel, and blood. Kael moved smoothly through and around the blows, ghosting just like a wisp of soul that slid through the dance of swords, splitting the dark metal forged to protect against blades under the same bloody curtain. As the nightmare creatures fell around him, one at a time, the demoness and the angel fought alongside him — enemies bound by obligation and desperate for their own survival.

Abyss has watched quietly, its burning eyes gleaming with what might have been satisfaction above the slaughter.

Not just any soul, Kael Drakmor.

And Hell was only beginning to understand the storm it had triggered.