Human Nightmares Part 2

— This has nothing to do with friendship. It never occurred to him that perhaps this is exactly what the 

Morning Star want it? Lure him into your territory? Yarion may have just been a decoy, an attempt by the 

Devil and Apollyon to drag him to hell. 

The general looked down, with the same haughtiness that would later make him the icon of an army. He 

I didn't believe in the witch hypothesis. I didn't think the Terminator was setting up a trap 

to assassinate him. But on the other hand, the necromancer was right. It would be unlikely that he could 

success in your mission. 

Ablon affectionately approached the woman, outraged by her suicidal decision. 

— Shamira, I remember when I met you — he began, caressing the girl's face. — You were 

just a girl, but that didn't make me disbelieve her wisdom. You mortals are divine, perhaps 

more than the angels. In those days, when the Tower of Babel penetrated the clouds, I revealed to him a 

secret. At the top of the mountain, I told him about the greatest gift of men. 

She was moved to relive, in her mind, the images and sensations of that remote time. 

— Free will. It is humanity's greatest gift. 

— Even if I try to deny it, I am a cherub, a warrior angel. My caste pursues justice and does not 

fears death. If I don't complete my mission, if I turn my back on my companions, I will die 

slowly. My aura will continue to pulsate, but all my strength will go out, and my energy will also end. 

life stimulus. What would be left? 

— Perhaps the human essence that you are looking for so much — he replied. 

— I must not repudiate what I am, Shamira. And the least I owe to my Creator. I may have been disowned 

by the archangels, but not by Yahweh. 

She had already tried to convince her friend to give up such insane attitudes, but she couldn't. 

had achieved. And I couldn't, once again. The sorceress was mortal and would never understand nature 

heavenly. All he could do was accept it, without ever understanding why. 

— We've already proceeded with lower hopes than that, haven't we? — the woman conceded. 

And the warrior hugged her. 

Inside the vertex of the Red forest, still within the domain of the fairies, there was a circle of 

stones that ancient druids used as a stage for ceremonies. There, they met with the elves 

and paid homage to the spirits. The circle was an energetic point, a key place for 

passage between dimensions. The fabric did not exist, which made it easier for priests to open 

mystical connections to Arcadia. In that open-air temple, Shamira would not need time-consuming rituals 

to open the portal, but only with a word of power and a drawing on the floor. 

— I need a lock of your hair — explained the woman, offering the warrior a dagger 

ritualistic. — A few wires are enough. 

With the magic knife, the cherub cut off the end of the ponytail and handed it to the necromancer. 

The Renegade Angel saw that the sorceress was tracing a mystical circle on the dirt floor with her finger, 

decorated by ancient runes. He did not need any material components that he commonly used 

to open portals outside the fairy zone, just from angel hair. 

—This is the Portal of Shammash — warned the girl. — It will access a connection to the Fields of 

Death, the most desolate of the nine realms of hell. 

Then he uttered the secret words: 

— the Odd-Ya! the Russians! Saggtamarania! yes! yes! Atzarachi-ya! Atzarele-chi-yu! Bartlett- 

ya kanpalZi Listen to uddu-ya kanpalZi Listen to ushtu-ya kanpalZi Daraku! Zi bald! Camp! is 

shta kanpa! That! 

A second later, the soil in the area in the center of the stone circle began to shift. The earth gave way to 

a magical puddle, whose surface rippled like lake water, as it was stirred by the impact of a 

stone. The golden strands of Ablon's hair were swallowed and dissipated into infinity. In addition to the portal, 

the cherub saw the image of a sky red as blood, torn by black and gray clouds. 

—Now the portal is linked to you — clarified the woman. — The moment you cross it, it will 

will close from here to there, but the path back will remain active until you return, at which point the 

ticket will disappear forever. Therefore, I do not advise you to delay. The Killing Fields are a 

deserted place, but some wandering demon might find the passage and use it as a door to 

Earth. 

Ablon looked at her friend and thanked her for her help with a kind smile. Then he walked to the puddle, 

eager to complete his revenge and save his partner. 

— Behold, I send you to certain death, general. 

— No, Shamira. Once, beneath the winds of the Roman dawn, I made you a promise. Never forget 

of my words. 

The warmth of the memory of that kiss on the cheek filled the couple's hearts, but deep down, the woman was 

sad, because he didn't believe in the return of his beloved. He always hoped, one day, to have him with him, but 

now threw it to extinction. 

The Renegade Angel passed through the portal, and the puddle disappeared. 

Shamira wouldn't see him again for a long time. 

The Killing Fields 

Sheol, or hell, is one of the lower dimensions, located in the darkest corner of the cosmos. There is 

many other dimensions like this, but none have equal importance to the interest of the land. Put 

Thousands of years, Sheol was just a hole, an empty and abandoned place, until the arrival of 

Lucifer and his fallen angels. Since then, it has been divided into nine kingdoms, controlled by nine dukes, 

who prefer to be called princes. At the top of the pyramid is the omnipotent Dark Archangel, who 

everyone watches and commands. He is closely assisted by Samael, the Serpent of Paradise, who is also his 

lieutenant. 

Dukes have power over their domains, which are, in turn, divided into numerous provinces 

ruled by demon lords. Fights between provinces and even between kingdoms are 

constants. In Sheol there is always war, although one word from Lucifer is enough to paralyze 

any conflict and stagnate troop movements. These clashes are the main cause of extermination 

of demons, which, theoretically, would reduce the population of hell, if it weren't for the whirlwind of souls 

evil that comes into the hands of the Devil every day. In such a terrible place, only the strong resist, and the 

Few survivors rise through the hellish hierarchy. Unlike heaven, where angels are 

separated from the saints and mortals who died as righteous, in Sheol even the most 

insignificant is accepted in evil hosts and, if endowed with sufficient cruelty and malice, can 

climb the command, reaching control of a province. Dukes, however, are very powerful 

to be subdued. They are all fallen angels, celestials who once fought alongside the Morning Star 

in his legendary battle against the archangel Michael. 

The portal opened on the ground, like a puddle, on the gray floor of a sordid and dark valley. Two 

Stone walls rose up beside Ablon, like a narrow passage. The sky was still red, 

no sun or stars. The colors, which were so abundant in fairyland, varied there between black and 

gray, giving a depressive tone to the landscape. Even the air was heavy, oppressive and fetid. There were, throughout 

part, a frightening smell of death, and in the distance the renegade heard the lament of the condemned. 

He climbed the wall and reached the top of the rock, to see from there an immense plain, which stretched 

to the horizon. In the center of the esplanade, the angel saw a circular abyss, like a whirlpool in the 

floor. Its shaft tapered until it fell into grotesque blackness, at a point where there was nothing but 

infinite solitude. Hundreds of thousands of faceless souls walked in single file and threw themselves, 

without will, in the abyssal pit. They had no energy or strength to react. They simply accepted the 

destiny that had been imposed on them, with their heads down and their eyes passive. Not a single tie held them back, but 

groups of demons with skull faces and goat horns whipped passersby. From the abyss, 

it raised smoke that permeated the entire plateau. 

— The Fields of Death — exclaimed the celestial to himself. — And where do the souls of the useless come, 

of suicides, of those who gave up on life. Not even demons accept them. 

As he didn't know which way to go, the general headed towards the abyss. 

This was the Abyss of Nimbye, a passage to limbo, the ultimate void between dimensions, the 

territory of cosmic nothingness. Once thrown into limbo, the soul is lost forever in the complete and total 

desolation of the universe and cannot be rescued. Spends eternity floating in the gusts of the winds 

mystics, conscious enough not to abstain from terror, but unable to resist the torments. 

Ablon went up and down a gray hill, so as not to escape the sight of the guards, who, with whips, 

they scourged the condemned. One of them noticed the presence of the renegade and soon understood that it was a 

angel, by the emanations of his celestial aura. But the cherub had no intention of running away. 

— Lost your way home? — mocked the demon, drawing the attention of his companions. 

They had a cadaverous body and face, but human eyes. From its head sprouted contorted horns, and 

an infernal fire burned inside the chest cavity. 

— Gentlemen — he spoke to his peers —, we have a comrade here who comes from above — and pointed 

towards the sky, alluding to God's home. 

Five sinister executioners girded the stranger and wielded their whips as a sign of threat. 

— I want you to take me to Lucifer's castle — said Ablon. 

— To Lucifer's castle? — he mocked. — But you don't even know us! I think we have an obligation to, 

rather, teach him the protocol, if he wants to visit the master's court - and with that he brandished the whip and moved it 

towards the cherub. The others also waved their weapons, excited at the possibility of 

massacre a divine entity, but it was the chatterbox who attacked first. 

The scourge hissed and descended upon the renegade, but with remarkable skill he grabbed the tip of the 

whip and pulled him towards him. The demon, reluctant to let go of the weapon, was thrown to the ground with brutal force. 

The skeletal jaw broke in two upon encountering a rock on the ground. The guards gave up 

assault and retreated, frightened. They projected an imposing and fearsome appearance, but were weak and 

incapable, so they had been delegated to punish a bunch of apathetic souls, who would not react 

not even with a thousand sword blows. 

Shocked by the determination of the warrior angel, the entities prepared to flee, but the fighter refused. 

threw it at one of them, trapping it at gunpoint. 

"Don't hurt us," he begged. — We're servants following orders, that's all. 

— You are cowardly monsters — he insulted, then freed the skull. — Get out of here! Notify 

Dark Archangel that Ablon calls him to the duel, and that he brings with him Apollyon, that assassin 

damn. 

— The Renegade Angel, here? — recognized the skeleton. — Have mercy, general, mercy — he pleaded. 

The demon was choked with fear, even though the warrior hadn't even been that violent. 

— You're free, baal. 

The Baal caste is made up of worshipers of death and torture. They are analogous to the celestials 

hashmalins, the order of angels that control Gehenna. 

The five devils gave action to their fleshless legs and ran beyond the plains, leaving the 

spirits out in the open. However, the souls of the dead did not stop their march and continued to throw themselves into the 

abyss, condemning themselves to infinite solitude. 

Lilith, queen of the succubus 

Ablon continued to wander across the gray plains, and suddenly he no longer knew how long he had been. 

past. One day? A year? One hundred years? He heard a sharp growl echo on the terrace and saw in the sky 

an animal with wide and long wings, like those of the pteranodons, one of the winged reptiles of the Jurassic era. 

The body was like cooled lava—black, with flaming veins marking sections of the shell. In the loin 

held a demon woman, with long red hair and blue eyes. The silhouette was perfect, and the 

expression, seductive. The smell it gave off was like that of females in heat, which incite males to 

fornication. He guided his mount with just one hand, and with the other he carried a sharp trident. 

She didn't wear any clothes, and her pointed tail was the only thing that distinguished her as a hellish being. 

The monster landed five meters away from the warrior angel, and the demon approached him. 

— You are Ablon, the Renegade Angel — he stated. 

— Yes. And who are you? — the cherub didn't know her from the time he was a celestial general, so 

concluded that she could not be a fallen celestial. However, his aura was too powerful to belong to the 

spirit of a mortal human. 

— I am Lilith, the Queen of Succubus — she introduced herself. 

Succubus are demon women who tempt men through sexual attraction and pleasure. 

carnal. They especially inhabit the domains of As-modeus, the most perverted of the dukes of hell. 

Lucifer also used them to satisfy his whims and, among them, Lilith was his main courtesan. 

— My master, you already know you are here and ordered me to escort you to your presence. He said he accepts 

participate in the duel. 

—What about Yarion, the renegade angel brought here before me? — asked the general, 

worried about his comrade in arms. Would he have arrived in time to save him? 

— The Morning Star has agreed to release his friend if he is the winner of the dispute. But if you get lost 

he will be sentenced to imprisonment in the Zandrak Tunnels and subsequent execution at the hands of the Terminator. 

Ablon knew he couldn't trust the Devil, but of all the terrible possibilities, this was the one. 

better. If there was any sense of honor in Lucifer, he was putting it into practice. 

— Come up — invited the woman, extending her hand. Even though he was suspicious, the renegade mounted the creature 

flying, taking a place on the double seat of the saddle, right behind the sensual driver. 

— You are not a fallen angel — said the First General, still without understanding the true origin 

of Lilith. 

The succubus tightened the reins, and the monster stretched its wings, rising into the air. A cloud of dust 

stood up in the field. 

— No. I am neither a fallen angel nor a mortal spirit, because I never really died. I am a 

single entity — said the queen. — I was Adam's first wife, but I refused to submit to the 

your wishes. That's why he kicked me out of his house, and I started to wander the world, until I met the 

archangel Lucifer, with whom I fell in love. I gave myself to that beautiful celestial, and in return he granted me 

eternal life and fertility. For countless centuries, I was your eyes and ears at Haled, and then, 

After the fall of the rebellious angels, the Son of Dawn brought me into his kingdom and made me a leader 

of caste. 

Ablon had never heard about that demonic figure and was perplexed to understand how much 

I was still unaware of the endless mysteries of the universe. 

—What about your love for the Dark Archangel? 

— Love is foolish. It makes us weak, vulnerable. Love is a fleeting illusion, doomed to 

finish one day. Only imbeciles give in to such feelings. Love for yourself is the only true love, 

because deep down all of us, men, angels or demons, are selfish to the extreme. When we love 

someone, it's because we feel happy that way, and not the other way around. 

— Your vision is typical of someone who has never really known love, or has been despised by it. 

The comment sounded like an insult to Lilith's ears, perhaps because no one had ever told her before. 

had spoken so sincerely. Who would have the courage to tell his favorite courtesan the truth? 

Lucifer? For such boldness, she would have skinned anyone alive, but the naturalness with which the warrior 

expressed left her without action. The infernals feared her and were always flattering her, calculating the 

words and forging lies to please her. In the blackness of her heart, the monarch still kept, 

hidden, the hope of finding lasting love. 

— The search for individual pleasure is the true meaning of life. Think about it, renegade — he replied. 

She wasn't willing to share her weaknesses. — When you swing the sword, you feel happy, because 

that is its nature. Some find voluptuousness in sex, others in power, others in war. At the end of 

After all, that's all that matters: finding pleasure and happiness, no matter what. The consequences are 

secondary. 

— I disagree with you, Lilith — insisted the fighter. — Essential love recognizes respect, not only for itself 

same, but for all those who are involved. Therefore, the consequences of our actions must 

be measured. 

— A renegade angel talking about measuring consequences — she laughed dismissively. — If you acted like 

Speak, cherub, you would never be here - replied the satanic woman, and Ablon thought that perhaps she 

was right. If I had considered Shamira's feelings more fully, I would not have traveled to 

hell and put your own life at stake. 

The general spent a moment thinking about all that and preferred not to prolong the discussion. Your ideas 

differed from Lilith's arguments, and with that conversation he would only be able to find a new 

enemy. He then fixed himself on the landscape, and from the animal's back he saw a mountain range of volcanoes, and then 

her a sea of ​​lava. They had just crossed the border of the Fields of Death, governed by the Duke 

Bael the Unhappy and entered the territory of the hateful Alastor. 

—Is this the way to Lucifer's castle? — asked the warrior. 

— No. The Morning Star awaits him in the valley of the Damned, whose souls' laments resound throughout 

all the kingdoms of hell. There is an open field there and enough space for a long-awaited duel. 

Ablon felt a pang of apprehension. Only now did he realize what was coming and the magnitude of the 

event he called. 

Without planning, filled with anger and a thirst for justice, he had challenged the Dark Archangel to a 

confrontation. And he could no longer retreat. 

Ablon vs Lucifer 

Lucifer had countless castles and fortresses in hell, and changed his residence according to his needs. 

will and according to their political needs. More recently, the Morning Star had settled 

in a cave beneath the ground in the Valley of the Damned, where he would spend most of the rest of his long life. 

existence. The cave, full of tunnels and passages, was not a luxurious place like his other palaces, 

but it was in keeping with the magnificence of the great infernal lord. 

The Vale dos Condenados was a plain of colossal proportions, delimited, in the distance, by two 

mountain walls. To the south of the plateau, the enigmatic river Styx, the most famous of the corridors 

spiritual, passed in front of the Devil's cave and continued its course, disappearing soon after. 

Although the Dark Archangel had never used the river paths to cross dimensions, dwelling at 

The bank of such an important road was a source of respect and admiration among the satanic nobles. 

The valley was Sheol's most central punishment field, the great terror for the souls of the unjust. The soil 

was covered by several layers of human bodies that, although injured, without arms or legs, or 

struck by wounds, they still writhed. The suffering of these unfortunate people is long and terrible. They are 

doomed to live in pain and torture for years until their period of sentence is served. Only then maybe 

have the chance to serve some lesser demon and over time climb the hierarchy, becoming 

own demons. The vast majority of these unfortunates, however, are promptly eliminated, or return to the 

worth, for a few more millennia of affliction. 

Riding on the winged monster, on Lilith's back, Ablon saw the valley of the Damned. Around the 

cave, he noticed a crowd of demons, of all sizes and types, who went outside to watch the 

duel. But he did not meet his main enemies: Lucifer, the Morning Star, and Apollyon, the 

Exterminator. 

— We're here — indicated the succubus. 

—Yes, but where is the Dark Archangel? And your henchman? 

— They're on their way — she didn't land the flying beast, but skimmed it down. — You can jump 

now. 

Ablon prepared to jump, but first the queen warned: 

- Take care! The Son of Dawn is treacherous even in his combat techniques. Be 

ready for the worst. 

And, without responding, the general jumped onto the field. In that ocean of lies and liars, I didn't know 

who to trust, and preferred not to pay attention to the succubus' words. Regardless of what 

happened, the fighter would act by his own methods. Lilith, for her part, told the truth. It was a 

sadistic and malicious entity, but, during that short trip, he had felt something for the warrior angel that 

I had never tried it before. It was an intoxicating feeling, much stronger than the fire of pleasure and 

Sex is much greater than the passion he once cultivated for the Dark Archangel. With a single sentence 

sincerely, the cherub had exerted a formidable fascination over the demon woman, which she would not forget. 

never. She had always been surrounded by enemies and vile creatures. Her allies used her, or pleased her in 

for your personal interests. 

The flying mount rose again, and the monster's shadow was lost in the black clouds, carrying 

I get the sexy driver. With the agility of a cat, Ablon rolled onto the floor and regained his posture. 

just a few meters from the host that waited anxiously for him. The terrace was packed with spectators from there to the 

cave, but the celestial knew where to find his true opponent. As I walked towards 

To the cave of their traitor, the mob made way, amazed at the courage of the warrior angel. The infernals 

they had heard stories, reports of a cherubic general who had defied the archangel Michael. Who, 

If not the Lord of Sheol, could he stop him? 

It was then that, in front of him, a long animated corridor opened, flanked by demons of all stripes. 

castes. At the end of the trail, Ablon finally saw his opponent. 

Lucifer carried no sword or armor and wore only a light tunic, like that of the seraphim. THE 

His clean, young face simulated his former appearance, with blue eyes and braided blonde hair. To yours 

On one side, armed with Blackfire, was Apollyon, outside the line of battle. This, in turn, also 

he had wings, but he didn't show them off, like his boss. 

In the distance, on a rock, two dukes, Asmodeus and Orion, the most reasonable of the macabre princes, 

They watched the meeting impassively, with devilish elegance. 

— It's going to be a massacre — exclaimed Asmodeus, confident in his master's victory. But the Fallen King of 

Atlântida remained silent, just observing the movements of the challenger, who concentrated on his 

fists the Wrath of God, while the observers turned away. 

On the field, Ablon rose like a predator. Lucifer, however, did not even take the position of 

battle. What trick would you be up to? 

— Ablon, what you're doing is crazy — surprised the Morning Star, starting a dialogue. 

— Do you really hope you can beat me? 

But instead of replying with an answer, the glorious general replied with a determined smile, which made 

Even the dukes froze in fear, with the exception of Apollyon. With that resolved expression, 

It was clear that he would not back down. If he died, he would die happy, because that was his nature. If 

survived, even if defeated, he would keep with him the experience of facing an archangel, or someone 

with similar powers. Wasn't that what he lived for—to fight? 

— I ask you to reconsider — Lucifer insisted, with a false air of paternal concern. — Give up on this 

duel. 

— I will, if you give me Yarion, Windwing. 

— You ask the impossible of me, general. 

Ablon was no longer willing to deliberate. Without further ado, he accelerated his career, winning the 

fifty meters that separated him from the Fallen Angel. He jumped high, with the Wrath of God setting his eyes on fire. 

fists, and went down to beat the enemy. 

But as he plunged into the air, an unexpected event took shape. Lucifer's slender body was 

object of an instantaneous and quite astonishing transformation. In a split second, the Archangel 

Dark grew in size, becoming a monstrous being. The skin thickened and the muscles 

They jumped, while their legs were shaped like goat paws. The hands sprouted claws, and a tail 

huge appeared, at the same moment that the soft face turned into a satanic frown, 

with black horns and red fangs. 

Surprised by the Dantesque metamorphosis, the renegade lost the precision of his punch, which reduced moments 

behind him he looked at Lucifer's small face. 

Taking advantage of the cherub's hesitation, the Morning Star, now a three-meter demon, 

he lowered his head, lifting his bottom to perform a daring maneuver. He whipped his tail, and 

the furry tail curled around the general's body, which was coming down from his jump. In the next assault, 

Lucifer contracted his grown member, in such a way that the Renegade Angel could no longer let go. With 

With astonishing force, the beast threw the enemy, who fell on his back on the ground, injured and stunned. 

Then, another blow pressed him against the ground, and the following attacks drew blood and blood from him. 

They flayed his skin, leaving his flesh exposed. The pain was so great that even the vigorous general could not 

more move. The energy in the muscles disappeared with the loss of blood, and the power of the aura faded. 

Still, he had the strength to turn his face away, just to confront the attacker. 

—The Devil has many faces — growled the giant beast, justifying the bitter surprise. I spoke to a 

voice not at all soft, as thick as a lion's roar. — Your dreams of triumph are so ephemeral 

As for the conclusion of this duel, general. 

Semi-conscious, the celestial remembered what Lilith had said about Lucifer's insidious tactics. THE 

The sad truth was that, no matter how skilled he was, Ablon was no match for the Morning Star. No 

had reached, at least yet, the feet of the archangels, supreme and admirable figures, who precisely for this reason 

ruled the universe. 

In a few seconds, the Renegade Angel was entirely defeated. 

At that moment, the evil Apollyon approached his master, with Black Fire in his hands. You 

Orion's eyes twitched when he saw that the Terminator raised the blade and directed it at Orion's neck. 

Ablon, ready to execute him with a single sword. 

As he lowered the weapon on its deadly trajectory, Lucifer stopped his wrist. 

- No! — he ordered. — The Renegade Angel will not die a martyr. The sentence has already been determined — and 

then he dug his claws into Ablon's arms and lifted him up into the excited crowd. —The leader of the renegades 

he will be taken to the Zandrak Tunnels, where he will be tortured for two hundred years straight — and he went to the 

Terminator, in particular. — After that, you will have permission to execute him. 

So the First General, who could barely speak, was dragged away by a bunch of useless skeletons- 

demons into a smelly tunnel, to the deafening clamor of spectators, who applauded the 

triumphant Infernal Lord. 

One of the horned skeletons, the same one that Ablon had subjected to the Fields of Death, commented with a 

two troupes: 

"We should have finished him off in the Nimbye Abyss ourselves," he said, as if he could 

deceive yourself. 

— No — replied the other, continuing the charade. — It was wise to leave the glory to our 

beloved sir, although I must agree that we would have no problem defeating this rat. 

— Indeed — agreed a third, pushing the celestial into the tunnel. 

Prisoner in Zandrak 

Below the Valley of the Damned, beneath the ground, there was an enormous tangle of tunnels, which 

extended far beyond the mountains, exceeding the territory of the valley a thousand times and reaching a 

incalculable depth. This underground place—the Tunnels of Zandrak—was the home of the Baals, the 

hellish caste dedicated to torture and torment. The one who reigned in Zandrak was the demon Balor, a 

abominable executioner and executioner, whose perverse mind was capable of formulating endless tactics of 

Suffering. 

Despite his great power, Balor was no fallen angel, and the story of his ascension is an example of 

success among corrupted spirits. His trajectory is a mix of insane cruelty and titanic luck. 

Balor was once a mortal man, who lived in Ireland during the 8th century BC. Warrior 

respected and fierce, he was the leader of one of the first Celtic tribes, a people who inhabited Europe 

Western before the Roman invasions. But a prophecy would mark his destiny. Once, a druid 

told him that he would be killed by his own grandson, so Balor locked his only daughter, Ethlinn, in a 

stone tower, to prevent the girl from marrying and giving birth to her killer. In the meantime, 

He was involved in countless battles, always surrounded by fierceness and barbarity. In combat, he lost one of his 

eyes, which further increased his presence and charisma. 

The conflicts continued, until the hero Cian freed Ethlinn from prison and married the maiden. From this 

union, the boy Edan was born. Fifteen years later, father and son went to war between the tribes. In the heat 

After the battle, Edan killed his grandfather Balor with a spear that pierced his healthy eye, thus avenging the 

mother's imprisonment. The fury in the chief's heart persisted even after his death and, it is believed, was 

this anger that consecrated him in Sheol. He quickly rose through the rigid order of the Baals, becoming a 

role model to his peers and then an admired leader, overcoming his rivals through violence and 

intrigues. To calm his maddened hatred, Balor began to torture and mortify all the condemned men. 

cast into the tunnels, into their chambers of pain in Zandrak's dungeons. 

The appearance of this hellish berserker is like that of a giant, tall as two ordinary men and fat 

like three wild bears. The distended abdomen, always on display, is constantly being caressed by the enormous 

hands. In the center of the forehead there is only one eye, large and black, and the immense mouth is always 

drooling gooey fluids. A fetid head of hair, dirty as mud, flows down to shoulder height. 

Balor received Ablon with special satisfaction and assured Lucifer that he would dedicate himself entirely to the routine 

of punishment. The Renegade Angel was carried to the dungeons and chained to the wall of a cell 

dark and icy, in the deepest basement of hell. Each day, Balor whipped him a thousand times, right down to the skin. 

tear, and then let the body heal, for a new session of torture. 

And so the torment continued for two hundred long years, during which the cherub had no 

rest and knew only pain and humiliation. 

Days before the scheduled execution date, Apollyon sent a gift to Ablon, and Balor allowed 

for the prisoner to handle the package. When the celestial opened the bag, an object rolled across the floor. 

It was the head of Yarion, Windwing. 

On the eve of the day of execution, Ablon was left to rest for a whole day, so that he could 

recover and walk on the way to the scaffold. Its high resistance caused the muscles to heal 

quickly, although his back remained cut and bloody. The chains that tied him to the wall 

They were too resistant to be broken and could only be opened with the right key, which was kept by the person himself. 

Balor. 

The baal left the renegade alone for a moment, but he would soon return to his cell. From that point on, 

he no longer harbored hopes of salvation, but someone else would lend him hope, in the end. 

darkest moment. 

Ablon knew Balor's itinerary and was surprised by his delay. I should have come back by now, because I always stayed 

watching him, even when he wasn't torturing him with the sharp whip. So when the big cell door 

opened, letting in the light of the fire pyres, the celestial was surprised to see that the newcomer was not 

the one-eyed giant. He saw the silhouette of a demon just a little shorter than him, with a taller body. 

stocky and red eyes. As he approached the light, he noticed that he had feathered wings, 

claws retracted and he was limping on one leg, a situation that forced him to rely on a cane. The skin 

he was a light brown, and his hair and beard were deep black. 

That was the spiritual appearance of Orion, the Fallen King of Atlantis. 

— You're not well at all — exclaimed the Atlantean, noticing his friend's torn back. The visit 

it was a nice gift, regardless of future repercussions. 

— I've been much worse than that — replied the warrior, who was not given to lamenting. 

- I know. And that's why I'm here. 

— I know you came to say goodbye to me and perhaps say a final goodbye to our glorious past, but 

our dreams are over, old friend. 

— Fire? — Satanis smiled, indifferent to the fatalism. 

Slowly, Orion slipped through the cold chamber and stopped very close to the prisoner, stretched by chains. 

that closed his fists. 

— Who do you think you are, Renegade Angel? Do you think it's an ordinary entity, just another celestial one? 

wander through the universe created by God? — and nodded a negative. — No... You are the leader of the 

renegades, is a symbol, an icon. 

The demon turned his face away, and Ablon noticed that his eyes were filling with tears. 

— In Atlantis — continued Orion — people told stories about epic fighters. The majority 

These stories were invented by me and were nothing more than dream poems. But I tell you that in my 

bigger dreams, I had a model that guided my captions. 

The renegade looked up, beginning to understand what it was about. 

— I don't really know what you've become, general — concluded the Atlantean. — I don't know what it really is, angel 

or man. If he were human, earthly, a carnal wanderer on earth, I would say he is a hero. AND, 

I'm definitely sure of one thing: that's not how heroes die. 

Having said that, to the condemned man's complete surprise, Orion took out a key and with it freed the man. 

cherub of iron bonds. I was free! 

— Run away while you can, general! — warned the bankrupt monarch. —Your escape time is limited. 

—And where is Balor? — the warrior wanted to know. 

"I couldn't sneak through the tunnels and break into this chamber with a baal guarding it, so 

I needed a brief distraction. 

—Distraction? 

—Lilith, Queen of Succubus. She was willing to "entertain" the executioner while I went down to the dungeon. 

We are both responsible for this little j conspiracy. 

Lilith... the terrible mistress of demon women. Ablon never thought he would receive help from such a vile 

creature, didn't even realize how enchanted she had become with him. The succubus, in effect, 

he had fallen in love with the warrior angel and would have done anything to save him. 

— You will be severely punished when Lucifer finds out what you planned — warned Ablon. — A 

Morningstar is omniscient in his domains. 

— He can't see everything, cherub — he replied, with sincere conviction. —Now run! Lilith 

will not hold Balor forever. 

But Balor was not the only obstacle separating the general from his complete liberation. 

— I don't know the way to the Fields of Death — Ablon was not an expert in the geography of hell. 

— How can I reach the portal and return to earth? 

The solution was on the tip of our tongue: 

— Lilith's winged beast is stationed outside the tunnels. Follow the smell of the lava and you will find the exit 

Zandrak. Walk in the shadows, so that the useless Baals cannot perceive you. Ride the monster. 

He knows the way to the Killing Fields. Fast! Time runs out. 

Without delay, the renegade, even though he was injured, ran through the tunnels — tortuous passages, full of spirits. 

slaves, who mined while receiving the whip from skull demons. None of them reached 

notice the stealthy passage of the celestial prisoner, who with iron courage wandered through the caves, until 

find the hole that led to the surface. 

A narrow passage, carved into the rock, ended in a large cave, whose opening led to a 

site north of the Valley of the Damned, already outside the private territory of Lucifer, the Lord of Sheol. THE 

The stony hall was filled with sentries, watching every movement in the dark. Ablon could 

confront them, but he didn't want to alert them to his presence and jeopardize his fantastic escape. Like this, 

He deceived everyone, and with his sneaky walk he left the dungeons. Outside he found the flying beast 

and dominated her. 

Two malikis who were guarding the passage saw, minutes later, the winged monster cutting through the 

horizon. 

—Isn't that the queen's mount? — commented one of them. 

— There's no doubt, but I don't remember seeing her returning from the underground — said the man. 

second. Lilith drew sighs wherever she went and captured the attention of all the males. 

A third, more powerful demon, responsible for the general guard of the cave, approached the 

soldiers. The face looked like a black lion, and it held a curved sword. 

— Not the queen, you worthless pigs! — he shouted, and the guards shrank back in fear. — That's 

the Renegade Angel, who escapes from Zandrak on the day of his execution. The Son of Dawn will want 

my head for it. And for now, I'll have yours. 

With animal brutality, the lionhead brandished the scimitar and with a single blow cut the neck. 

of the two malikis. Then the alarm went off. 

— The Renegade Angel has escaped! — he shouted, with all his might. 

A hundred demons gave chase, but it was too late. 

Tombstones of a Lost World 

On the back of the flying beast, Ablon crossed the sea of ​​lava, the mountains, and saw the Abyss of Nimbye, 

already in the Fields of Death. He landed near the black rock path, where the portal was hidden. 

Fortunately, the renegade found, the passage lay untouched. 

Still bleeding, he dove into the mystical pool, and in the next instant the gray terrace had disappeared. 

As if in the blink of an eye, the environment was transmuted into a forest of parched oaks. When 

He glimpsed the scene, saw himself lying in the center of the circle of stones, a circle of old menhirs, 

especially sacred to the ancient druids. With his wrists swollen and his body injured, he realized where 

had arrived. 

I was back in the Red forest. 

It had been at least a hundred years since the Red Forest had lost its fantastic character. For a lot 

time, its trees were cut down, and the fairy world regressed, until the vertex that was in the 

heart of the forest has completely disappeared. Most of the elves fled to Arcadia when the 

construction of the road, and the few who remained, due to their spiritual nature, could no longer 

manifest on the physical plane. Little by little, the splendor of eternal summer faded, and the oaks 

they rotted inside. The lifeless trunks now stood here and there, like tombstones of a 

lost world. The grass had dried up, and the animals sought other places to breed. 

It was early spring, the month after the thaw, when snow gives way to mud and rain floods. 

the corners. Ablon didn't know the correct date, but when he noticed the stars he concluded that they had passed 

exactly 222 years since the day Shamira opened the portal. 

The mystical passage had finally closed, and he was, for now, safe. Exhausted, he surrendered to the 

rest, resting between the roots of an old oak tree, which seemed to embrace him like a child. 

He stared at the stars until the sun rose above the horizon. 

A cold wind blew through the forest, bringing the morning heat, and a golden ray reflected strange 

inscriptions on the surface of a moss-covered menhir. They were not Celtic designs, but characters 

Babylonian, which in no way could have been engraved on a British rock. When the Celts 

flourished, Babel had already fallen at least a thousand years ago! 

Upon examining the stone, he deciphered the mystery and couldn't help but smile. Those recordings were 

recent — no more than two hundred years old. They were not marked by the Celts or anyone else 

primitive people, but by the Sorceress of En-Dor, perhaps because she knew that only the two of them would understand the 

meaning. The message recorded on the rock proved that the necromancer was alive and unharmed and that 

he had not lost confidence in his promise. This is how it was written: 

"My dear friend, I had to leave the forest. Finally, the men 

won and started building the road. I say goodbye to 

fairy world and throw myself back into human civilization. If a 

The day you get to read this warning, I will be waiting for you at the last bastion of the 

Eastern Roman Empire: Constantinople." 

Constantinople, the Queen of Cities, the capital of the Byzantine Empire at the easternmost point of Europe. 

If anything remained of the Caesars' glory, it was Constantinople that held it. Church Center 

Orthodox and at the heart of Greek culture, the city retained, at the end of the Middle Ages, the nostalgia of a 

era of patricians and emperors, engraved in marble and gold. 

But the past would soon end in ashes, under the testimony of the warrior angel. 

Constantinople * The End of an Era 

After a thousand years of darkness, the Middle Ages came to an end. A new Muslim power rose 

in the East and advanced towards the West like a hungry tiger hunting its prey. The Ottoman Turks, under the 

command of the sultan, threatened Europe. First, they invaded the Balkan peninsula and defeated the 

European Christians who came to free her. After a short period of stagnation, during which the 

Islamists fought off a Mongol offensive, wars resumed in the west. In a short time, all 

The Byzantine Empire was under Turkish rule, with the exception of its capital, Constantinople. 

Constantinople, once called Byzantium, was a Greek city located on the Bosphorus Strait, until 

that, in 330 AD, the Roman emperor Constantine the Great transformed it into the capital of the Empire 

Eastern Roman, the second metropolis of the Caesars. Their culture was an eclectic congregation of 

Greek, Roman and Christian arts. Its citizens, orthodox Christians, did not respond to the pope and had their 

patriarchy itself. They considered the men of the Vatican barbarians. At its height, this eastern kingdom 

extended from southern Italy to Syria and Armenia, when Muslims appeared in the theater 

of history. 

In 1439, the emperor of Byzantium, Constantine XI, recognized that the capital would not resist the assault 

of the Ottomans. In a last desperate attempt, he swallowed his pride and went to Rome to propose the union of 

Churches of East and West, hoping to receive the help they needed to expel the 

invaders. But despite the union, the monarch encountered a double failure. The people, even though they suffered, did not 

He accepted the agreement well, and so no soldiers were sent east. Afterwards, the Turks 

they jostled against the walls, and from then on the fall of Constantinople was just a matter of time. 

In January 1453, the emperor received new encouragement, with the arrival of two Genoese ships under the 

command of the famous warrior Giovanni Giustiniani, a general who assumed command of the troops and 

I would fight until the last drop of blood for the punished city. But the Ottoman army was immense. It is calculated 

that Sultan Muhammad II had three hundred thousand men against nine thousand defenders. Furthermore, the 

The attackers relied on artillery, which gradually undermined the strength of the walls. 

A cannon shot was fired in the night, and Shamira awoke from her sleep. She owned a house 

luxurious, three-story building, acquired fifty years ago from a Florentine merchant. 

At first, the mansion had a retinue of servants, but now it was empty. Some employees 

fled the besieged city, others were called into the imperial army. 

The necromancer got up and went up the stairs towards the terrace, from where she had a wide view of 

the entire capital. From there, he saw the smoke outside the city, and the cracks that the Turkish artillery 

opened on the walls. Thousands of men—professional soldiers and ordinary people—gathered together 

in battalions, with swords in hand, awaiting the assault. Ottoman drums beat in the distance, 

as his warriors prepared for the final battle. Amidst the confusion, a solemn mass was 

celebrated in the fabulous Church of Saint Sophia, with its colossal domes and curvilinear angles. 

On the terrace wall, a figure as silent as the wind emerged from the gloom. Slowly, 

He approached the woman and stopped beside her. Before making himself noticed, he spent a few moments admiring her and 

contemplate its beauty. He noticed that the girl was wearing a long moss-green velvet dress and had 

black hair combed in braids. Far below, in the streets of the metropolis, a procession left the basilica, and 

all the civil inhabitants of Constantinople took part in it. Ahead, the priests chanted 

psalms and carried images of saints who, they thought, would protect the city against the night offensive. 

"The cross and the crescent," murmured the figure. — One God, two different enemies. 

Surprised, Shamira turned sideways and almost couldn't believe what she saw. There, in front of her, stood a 

tall, strong man, with golden hair and gray eyes. His sparse beard thickened into a 

unmistakable goatee, and she had no doubts about the visitor's identity. 

— You... — he became emotional. - What happened? By all the gods, why didn't you go back to the forest? 

— he asked, with the typical concern of sincere friends. He was already starting to get used to the idea. 

that he had died, that she would never see him again, but in the depths of her soul she knew the truth. 

As the woman recovered from the shock, Ablon wrapped his arms around her, and she laid her head down. 

on his broad chest, happy to feel the heat of his body and to hear the beats of his 

heart. 

— So, did you find my message engraved in stone? — whispered the necromancer. 

— I said I'd be back — he smiled, stroking the dark strands of her braid. — But maybe it has 

took a while — he looked at the besieged city and was amazed to see how the world had changed in 

two hundred years. Two people, devotees of the same divinity, were about to kill each other in a 

nefarious campaign. 

— And your mission? Did you manage to rescue your friend? 

Ablon lowered his head, remembering his failure, but swallowing the bitter defeat with glory. 

— I was defeated by Lucifer and imprisoned in the dungeons of hell. Yarion died, but Orion the King 

Fallen from Atlantis, saved me from the dungeons. 

— Orion is your guardian angel — he joked. —But how will he escape the wrath of his infernal lord? 

When the Dark Archangel discovers that the Atlantean has freed him, his savior will fall from grace. 

— I hope that never happens. Orion seemed quite safe to me, although the demons comment 

that the Morning Star sees everything that happens in his kingdom. But that doesn't change anything. Even if 

If he is punished, I must honor his sacrifice and move on with my life. 

A second explosion, much larger than the first, caught the couple's attention. The gates of 

Constantinople gave way, and fifty thousand Turks advanced into the streets. Successive gunshots were heard 

cannon, which filled the air with the smell of gunpowder. On the avenues, men in full armor 

they crossed swords against the scimitars of their invaders. The clang of metal flooded the alleys, like 

a sad symphony of death. The Ottoman offensive began, which would continue throughout the night. 

Twice the Muslims were repelled, until a stray arrow went through the breastplate of one of them. 

dark Italian. Unfortunately for the defenders, it was Giovanni Giustiniani, the general of the army. THE 

The men's morale fell, and Ablon and Shamira watched from the terrace as a warrior in armor 

Shining took his glaive and advanced personally to the command. The brave was none other than 

than the emperor himself. 

The sovereign was surrounded and, after defeating five men, a spear pierced his lung. 

Constantine XI was dead, and the Turks occupied the city. 

Realizing defeat, panic gripped the residents, who fled in their thousands. A crowd 

ran to the port, trying to board the anchored ships. Others sought refuge inside the 

Church of Saint Sophia, believing that its sacred character would spare them from a violent death. 

In the squares and streets, the carnage began. Anyone found with weapons in their hands was 

slaughtered, whether men or women, rich or poor. Meanwhile, the attackers searched 

systematically throughout the neighborhoods in search of loot. 

A group of soldiers forced the door of Shamira's house, on the first floor. 

— Let's go, Ablon — said the woman, going down the stairs. — There won't be much left of Byzantium. 

With a calculated movement, Shamira shook her friend's hand, and together they ran to the basement. There 

there was a secret passage that opened in the cellar wall. 

— Wait — the Renegade Angel stopped. —Are you going to abandon everything you kept in this house? 

— I have already transferred what I was interested in to a mansion in Venice — the roof shook with a crash, and the 

the general understood that the outer wall had been hit by an artillery bullet. — The building will 

fall apart! — the sorceress explained, pulling the cherub into the tunnel. 

As the two entered the tunnel, the building's foundations gave way, crushing the soldiers who were carrying it. 

they had invaded. The path descended and continued north, like a sewer pipe. Not a lot 

Far away, the underground passage ended in a trapdoor, which led out into a cave. 

small, under a hill south of the city. 

When Ablon and Shamira left the cave, it was almost daytime. Before the sun rose, they watched the 

fire that consumed the highest neighborhoods. The prisoners were made slaves and, in the morning, the 

Sultan Muhammad II recited the Muslim Wednesday prayer at the main altar of the Church of Santa Sofia. The cross 

that topped the dome of the basilica was replaced by the Islamic crescent, and the Christian mosaics were 

covered with lime. 

— Behold, the last Roman city dies — murmured the celestial, staring at the smoking ruins. 

— We are witnesses of history, my friend. We are the observers of the world. 

And so the Dark Ages ended, drowned in the slaughter of time. 

The angel and the witch stayed together for a few more days and then, as always, he left far away. 

Shamira took over her mansion in Venice, and Ablon walked to Spain. 

It was the beginning of the Age of Enlightenment. 

The Dark Archangel's Response 

Ablon's escape from Zandrak's dungeons left hell in an uproar. Lucifer was so angry 

with what happened, he ordered the execution of all the Baals who roamed that level of the dungeon on the day 

of the exhaust. He arrested Balor and Lilith and wondered what he would do with them. For a great infernal leader, 

one slip could generate a revolt from the dukes, so their actions had to be calculated, so that 

maintained its prestige even after the fiasco. 

What intrigued him most was the nebulous identity of the demon woman's accomplice. Someone certainly 

he had opened the renegade's bonds while the succubus fornicated with the jailer. But who? 

Even in his satanic omniscience, the Morning Star could not see the culprit. How does this 

would it be possible, if he was able to mentally sight every corner of his kingdom, even the most 

obscure? Such a situation, which called into question not only his position as a leader, but also his confidence 

folks, it left him devastated. 

With all these fears in mind, the Devil was desolate, but he remained firm. He ordered that 

Apollyon sought Lilith from prison and took her to his presence, in the cave in the Valley of the Damned. 

I intended to interrogate her, as a last attempt to discover the second person responsible for that plan. 

of escape, which had brought him so much complication. 

The Terminator took off the redhead's handcuffs and left her facing Lucifer, on his throne of bones. 

He took two steps back and remained alert, with Black Fire in his hands. The sword of the merciless 

infernal burns in black flames, a type of mystical flame, different from normal flames, that consumes 

not only flammable materials, but all types of substances, organic or inorganic. The black fire leads to 

combustion of stone, metal, flesh, concrete and any other object placed in its path. The fire 

common, known to men, is just one type of universal burning - there are many others, like fire 

green, or Xahra's fire, and blue fire, or fairy fire, which only produces luminescence. 

— Lilith — hissed the Devil, staring at the prisoner with his disturbing blue eyes — my 

precious demon princess... — he whispered, with evil sweetness. — You caused me several 

problems, girl. 

— They're nothing compared to what you've already caused, Lucifer — she replied, without remorse. The fascination you felt 

by the Dark Archangel, upon seeing him for the first time after being abandoned by Adam, she had withered like a 

plant in the sun. Now he was the tyrant, the villain, the most deplorable being in a decadent kingdom. 

In response, the infernal lord smiled, but inside he squirmed. The one who was as beautiful as 

the sun, God's favorite, had just taken a deadly blow. 

— That wasn't how you treated me, queen, until recently — he looked to the side, at his 

The gaze reached a dark alcove, which had been the scene of countless erotic encounters between the demon and 

your courtesan. — How many times have you laid in my bed? How many times have I had it under this roof? 

How many times have I taken her to supreme pleasures? 

—And despite that, you continue to have me as a slave, Morning Star. 

The Dark Archangel's face transmuted into an indignant mask. With arrogance and malice 

characteristics of his corrupted heart, he rose from his throne and approached the redhead as if the 

devoured from within. His presence was unique, suffocating, and the energy of his aura was frightening. 

—Slave? And what about your group of sexual servants? I took her in when she was expelled by that 

mortal man. I have given you incredible powers and eternal vitality. I gifted her with a kingdom in 

hell. I always received you and respected you like a true duchess, something you never were. And, in 

exchange, what I get for my generosity is a stab in the back. I should have known that someone 

of such rotten origins could not be trusted. You were human, Lilith. Not even if I wanted to reach the 

glory of the great. 

When remembering Ablon's attitude, she regained her will and thought that this was the time to speak. 

sincerely. However, she was not fooled into thinking that the devil would hear her. 

— Until today, all you gave me was power, influence, wealth and empty promises, that's all. Not even if 

If I wanted to — he replied, imitating the Devil's words — he would be able to grant me what he really wanted. 

desire. That's why you'll never know who opened Zandrak's doors. The feeling that motivated us 

it is beyond your narrow perception. 

Lilith had reached the final straw that caused the Dark Archangel to explode. 

— How dare you level yourself above my science? You were born with humanity, and what it boils down to 

the brief existence of the deadly species? Fifteen thousand? Twenty thousand years? The history of men is nothing more 

than a blink of an eye compared to the experience of the universe, the experience of the archangels, my 

experience. We were created with divine light, at the dawn of time, but you... what are you? Poor animals 

molded from clay - he stated, and, with unparalleled fear, Lilith saw on the face of the Morning Star a trace 

of disgust. Never, in all those millennia of intimate contact, had he heard his master spit that speech 

wild, which had nothing to do with his humanist propaganda. Indeed, Lucifer had expressed, 

without calculating, a secret emotion, and for the first time the monarch knew that her master was telling the truth. 

When he realized his failure, it was already too late. The Dark Archangel had slipped into his own 

insults and now there was only one thing to do. 

With a subtle movement, he tilted his head, giving Apollyon the sign he had been waiting for. One blow 

was released, and Black Fire flashed through the air, only to find Lilith's neck. THE 

The harlot's head rolled to the side, and the body fell backwards. The execution was so quick that the 

The courtesan felt nothing, nor did she have the chance to scream or risk a last breath. His remains 

polluted the cave floor, while black flames consumed skin, tissue, and bones. In one minute, the 

The queen's corpse had been reduced to a pile of ash. 

"Unfortunately, like her ex-husband, she went too far," muttered the Devil, crushing it with his foot. 

the coal heap. — Behold, Adam became like one of us, knowing good and evil; now 

Let us drive him out of paradise, lest he take the tree of life and eat it and live forever. 

— he declaimed, narrating an excerpt from Genesis. — I should force all my demons to read the 

Bible. 

Introspective, Lucifer shrugged his shoulders and retired to the throne of skulls. 

"We could have done a lot worse than executing her in one blow," urged Apollyon. 

— In such circumstances, keeping her alive would be very risky, even under torture. We did the thing 

right, and now this episode is over. 

—But what about Balor? What will we do with it? 

— Hang him with his own whip, on the same scaffold where Ablon would be executed. And do 

It is a matter of all the dukes being present. If you prefer, you can murder the bastard yourself. 

— What I want is the renegade's head! 

— We all want that, Apollyon, but will we be able to have it? 

—What are you talking about? — Malikis growled, finding Lucifer's evasive behavior strange. 

— Ablon faced me in a duel, and a thousand years ago he confronted Gabriel. Although I lost in both 

times, he stayed alive. With each battle, the Renegade Angel becomes more experienced and more powerful. 

Soon, even you won't be able to beat him. If we don't kill him soon... — the infernal lord 

He stopped, imagining the possibility of the rise of such a persistent enemy. 

— I will never be defeated by a celestial animal worshiper — growled the Terminator. 

— I hope so, my dear — replied the Devil, without much certainty. - I hope so. 

Sheathing his sword, Apollyon left the cave, without paying any greetings. The Son of 

Dawn retreated into the gloom and stood still, observing what was left of Lilith's corpse. Put 

For hours she rambled, trying to understand what had driven her to commit such an absurd act, which would lead her to 

ruin