Chapter 22 – Inferno at the Gates  

Bastian barely had time to process the warmth of his newborn son in his arms when the doors to their chamber flew open. Zadkiel's expression was carved in stone, his golden eyes burning with urgency.

"The Celestial City is under attack." His voice cut through the room like a blade. "An army of demons, led by Zython and Asmodeus, have breached the gates."

Anastasia's breath hitched. "Zython... and Asmodeus? Isn't there a Lucifer—Lord of the Underworld?"

Zadkiel shook his head. "No sign of him. We don't know where he is. But Gabriel has gathered every warrior. The battle has already begun."

Bastian's grip tightened around Anastasia and the baby. "Then I'm going."

Zadkiel's gaze flickered to the infant. "You need to take your family to the lower levels. It's safe there."

"No," Bastian growled. "I won't hide while demons storm the city. I've fought too hard to protect my family—I won't stop now."

Wyatt stepped forward, his jaw set. "Neither will I."

Matt and Sean exchanged glances before nodding. "We're in."

Zadkiel hesitated, looking between them. "Your son was just born, Bastian. If you die—"

"That's exactly why I have to fight," Bastian cut him off. "To make sure he has a future."

Zadkiel exhaled sharply. He knew better than to argue with warriors. "Fine. But if you're going into battle, you'll need proper weapons."

He led them through the palace corridors, the distant echoes of battle vibrating through the walls. They stopped at a massive vault, its doors unlocking with a thunderous clang. The weaponry room was unlike anything they'd seen before—rows of celestial blades, enchanted bows, and demon-slaying artifacts lined the walls, glowing with ancient power.

Wyatt's eyes gleamed. "Now this," he muttered, running a hand over a gleaming longsword, "is a proper collection."

Zadkiel smirked. "Choose wisely."

Wyatt and his sons picked their weapons with precision, moving like seasoned warriors. Bastian strapped on twin daggers forged in heavenly fire, while Matt took a double-edged spear crackling with divine energy. Sean grabbed a crossbow loaded with blessed bolts, and Wyatt took a massive claymore, its blade shimmering with holy runes.

Zadkiel extended his hand. Wyatt clasped it firmly. "Welcome to the war."

Meanwhile, Anastasia had been escorted to the lower floors with five lady's maids assigned to her and the baby's protection. But the moment she stepped into the chamber, a deep unease gnawed at her. She could hear the battle raging above—clashing swords, war cries, inhuman screeches tearing through the air. She was no fragile queen meant to hide in safety. She was a warrior. A fighter. And damn it, she wanted to be out there.

Clutching the newborn to her chest, she whispered, "Stay safe, my love," before placing him gently in the arms of one of the maids. The women gasped as she turned toward the doors, her decision unshakable.

"My lady, you can't—" one started, but Anastasia had already disappeared into the halls, sprinting back toward the battlefield.

The city was in chaos.

Fires raged along the golden streets, holy towers crumbling under the weight of demonic onslaught. The sky—once a celestial blue—was now a swirling nightmare of black smoke and hellish red lightning. Angelic warriors clashed with monstrous creatures, their wings slicing through the air as weapons clashed in bursts of divine energy.

Bastian, Wyatt, Matt, and Sean fought side by side, their movements a deadly dance of skill and instinct. Bastian's daggers sliced through the throat of a shrieking demon before he spun and drove his boot into the chest of another, sending it flying back into the flames.

Wyatt swung his claymore in a deadly arc, severing the arm of a monstrous beast before plunging the blade through its chest. "Not bad for an old man, huh?" he called over his shoulder.

Matt hurled his spear, impaling a charging demon before flipping over its collapsing body, landing beside Sean, who loosed a bolt straight into the skull of a winged horror. "Nice shot," Matt panted.

Sean smirked, reloading. "I aim to please."

Suddenly, a deafening roar split the battlefield. From the flames emerged Zython, the Third Prince of the Underworld, his massive frame clad in black armor, his molten eyes locked onto Bastian.

"You," Zython snarled. "The so-called warrior of the heavens."

Bastian twirled his daggers. "Gonna be hard to call me 'so-called' after I send you back to hell."

Zython laughed, the sound like grinding stone. "We'll see."

Before Bastian could react, the ground trembled as Asmodeus landed behind him. The First Prince of the Underworld was a towering figure of shadows and fire, his blackened wings stretching wide.

"You should've stayed hidden with your wife," Asmodeus taunted, his voice a deep, hellish growl. "Now, you'll watch her burn while we claim your newborn for ourselves."

Rage ignited in Bastian's chest. He lunged—but before he could strike, a sudden burst of light erupted between them. When the glow faded, Anastasia stood there, her hair whipping in the storm, her hands crackling with power.

"Asmodeus," she spat. "You should've stayed in your pit."

Bastian's heart nearly stopped. "Ana, what the hell are you doing here?!"

She shot him a look. "Saving your ass."

A grin tugged at Zython's lips. "Oh, this is a surprise baby girl."

Asmodeus flexed his claws, dark energy swirling around him. "Then let's make it a fight worth remembering."

Lightning cracked across the battlefield as the four warriors charged at each other, the final battle for the Celestial City beginning in an explosion of power.