Chapter 24: She’s Singing Again~

Azazel's shackled feet echoed down the marble floor like drums heralding his doom. The celestial seals wrapped around his arms and throat flickered with golden light, suppressing every ounce of his once-radiant power. His eyes, once filled with smug intellect, now stared blankly forward, until—

They met hers.

Hespera didn't move. Didn't speak.

She simply stood, still as judgment itself, twelve wings furled behind her like divine verdicts waiting to be passed.

Azazel's step faltered.

That was all it took for the angels flanking him to tighten their grips on his chains, as if they feared even a flicker of rebellion.

But Hespera?

She wasn't watching his body.

She was watching his soul.

It trembled, like it knew what it knew the fate it was going to have.

Michael's voice rang through the silence, a divine bell tolling the sentence. "He is yours now."

Hespera tilted her head slowly. "I know."

Her heels struck the marble floor with the weight of inevitability, each step deliberate. The very atmosphere warped around her—Heaven holding its breath, unsure whether it should resist or kneel.

Gabriel watched her with wide eyes, her hands clutched beneath her chin, lips curled into the faintest of pouts. A childlike innocence danced behind her expression, but beneath it lay awe.

Uriel scowled, jaw locked with disapproval and a pinch of poorly veiled anger.

Raphael said nothing, but his eyes were filled with sorrow. For Azazel. For what could have been. For what was about to be.

Raziel watched in silence, his celestial gaze dimmed like a dying star. He didn't need prophecy to know how this ended.

Hespera stopped a mere breath away from Azazel, who was now forced to kneel before her.

The once-proud fallen now knelt like a discarded dog—chained, muzzled, and trembling.

She crouched slowly, her voice dipping into something cruel and saccharine.

"Hiya, little ZayZay. Did you miss me~?"

Azazel didn't answer. He couldn't.

The seals bound his throat too tightly—but even if they hadn't, there were no words that could save him now.

"You've been such a bad boy~," she cooed, brushing a finger under his chin. "Did you think there wouldn't be consequences? Silly, silly ZayZay."

He flinched at the sound of her voice. The same voice that once pleaded for mercy, for freedom—now held nothing but mockery and promise.

"You and I are going to have some quality sibling bonding time," she whispered, leaning in close. "Just like old times, hmm? You had such fun down in your labs with me…"

She poked his nose lightly.

"Let's do it again~" Her smile widened, gleaming like a blade. "Only this time, I get to play the scientist."

She rose with a grace that made reality strain to keep up with her.

Then, without turning, she addressed Michael. "I'll be taking him now. Bye-bye~"

Michael gave a single nod, his expression unreadable. "So be it."

Hespera raised her hand and snapped her fingers and reality cracked like glass under pressure.

A silent rift opened behind her, curling inward like a black-and-silver wound in the world. Beyond it swirled the rainbow-like chaos of the Dimensional Gap—shards of forgotten stars, drifting fragments of lost creation, and silence that screamed.

Azazel looked at the rift.

And true fear bloomed behind his eyes.

Hespera's wings spread wide—phoenix embers dancing from her angelic side, while shadows slithered from her draconic ones. Her silhouette, illuminated in the divine glow of judgment, was unforgettable.

"You locked me in darkness, ZayZay," she said softly.

Her hand wrapped around his chains like a leash.

"Now I'll return the favor."

With a flare of power and a flick of her wrist, she dragged him bodily into the rift.

And as the veil closed behind them with a whisper—like a cell door sealing with finality—Heaven exhaled.

Gabriel let out a soft, heartbroken sigh. "She's gone…" Her hands were balled into fists at her side. "I wanted to talk more. Big sis Hespie left too fast…"

Michael sat back into his seat, fingers steepled, expression carved from stone.

"No," Raziel said, his voice low, prophetic.

"She'll be back."

He turned his gaze to the heavens above.

"It has only just begun."

~☆~

The moment the portal sealed behind them, all sound ceased. Only the breathless void of the Dimensional Gap—a place where the rules of reality surrendered to madness, where existence blurred and time dared not tread. The fractured remnants of forgotten stars hovered like frozen teardrops, suspended in a pale, endless sea of cosmic silence.

And cutting through it—

A voice.

Soft. Sultry. Mocking.

"So you're a tough guy… like it really rough guy…"

Hespera's voice danced through the emptiness, melodic and laced with venomous amusement.

She didn't look back at Azazel as she dragged him forward by the chains, each link glowing faintly with divine heat. Her coat fluttered behind her like a predator's banner, her twelve wings spread slightly—casting twisted reflections against the void.

Azazel's feet scraped against the invisible floor, his breathing shallow. Sweat beaded along his forehead despite the chill. His eyes darted around, trying to make sense of the non-space surrounding them, but there was nothing to ground him. No anchor. No hope.

Just her.

"Chest always so puffed guy…" she continued sweetly, almost skipping with her steps. "...might seduce your dad type~"

Azazel flinched.

Because he remembered.

The songs she used to sing when they were young cherubim —when she and Lucifer would make up such weird songs while playing with Azazel and the other angels. Michael always disliked how dark they sounded.

And now… she sang for him.

"I'm the bad guy…"

She stopped.

Turned slowly.

And Smiled. Straight into his eyes.

"Duh."

Azazel stumbled to his knees, the seals flaring as he tried to speak—only for the golden chains around his throat to tighten with a cruel hiss.

Hespera crouched in front of him, resting her chin on her knuckles.

"You look pale, little ZayZay," she purred. "I thought you'd be thrilled to see me again."

He shook his head slowly, trembling.

She tsked. "Still playing dumb? I guess old habits die hard. But don't worry…"

She stood, her fingers trailing up the chains like a lover's touch.

"I've got all the time in the multiverse to remind you what it means to piss me off."

Her wings snapped open wide—magenta embers and violet-black shadows flaring in an elegant, terrifying display.

Around them, the Gap bent—twisting to her presence. Mountains of light collapsed. Stars reversed. The void itself shivered.

Hespera tilted her head back, eyes closed.

And sang again.

"I'm that bad type… make your brother mad type…"

Azazel whimpered.

And far, far away—across the threads of the cosmos—Death burst into cackling laughter from her throne.

"She's doing it!" she squealed, kicking her legs up. "She's singing again! Oh, Chaos is going to die when they hear this—"

Meanwhile…

Hespera wrapped her hand around the hilt of Pandemonium Noctis, drawing it slow and smooth.

"Now, ZayZay…" she whispered, eyes burning like judgment incarnate.

"Let's get started."

~☆~

The Mortal Realm – Border of Thessaly

The veil between worlds shimmered faintly as the Hesperides emerged from the hidden garden. The air outside was starkly different—less pure, less timeless. The stars above this world did not sing the same songs, and time moved in painful, predictable rhythms.

Aigle inhaled deeply, her golden eyes narrowing. "It's heavier out here," she muttered, adjusting the golden wrap over her shoulder. "Too much war. Too many prayers unanswered."

Khrysothemis turned in a slow circle, her silver braid swinging behind her. "It's so loud." Her voice was almost awed. "I forgot how many souls could cry out at once."

Erytheia stepped lightly down the craggy slope, her long crimson coat flowing behind her. She held out her hand, feeling the tremble in the atmosphere. "Chaos. It's recent… and it smells familiar."

Aigle's head jerked toward her. "You think it's her?"

Erytheia's expression darkened. "Yes. She's not hiding it anymore."

Khrysothemis's eyes glowed faintly as she closed them, reaching with her mother's inherited affinity. "She's been to the Underworld. To the Divine Realms. And… yes." Her eyes snapped open. "The Dimensional Gap. She's there now."

Aigle's expression twisted. "Of course she would be. Only our mother would choose to make her throne in a void between all things."

They walked through the borderlands, slipping between mortal realms and spirit traces. With every step, the wind carried echoes—rumors.

A name.

Eveningstar.

Whispered by devils in the underworld, shouted by angels in their sanctums, feared by the few who remembered history before it was rewritten.

"She's making waves," Erytheia said quietly. "Even Gaia has stirred in her slumber."

Khrysothemis stepped onto a flat stone and raised her hand to the sky, letting divine stardust filter between her fingers. "She's angry. Hurt. She's never been like this."

"She has," Aigle corrected, eyes flashing. "We just weren't there to see it."

The three sisters fell quiet for a moment, each one remembering the echo of Hespera's voice when they were first born—her laughter, her chaotic lullabies, the way her wings wrapped around them like living starlight.

"She was lonely," Khrysothemis said, looking down.

"That's why she made us," Erytheia agreed. "But she left to protect us."

"And we're not leaving her alone again," Aigle declared.

With that, she held out her hand—and a glimmering compass of golden light, woven with strands of divinity, spun into existence in her palm. It pointed in no clear direction, but the moment they all touched it, it pulsed with warmth.

Her.

Their mother.

"We follow Her," Aigle said, closing her fingers around the compass.

"We follow Her till the END," the Hesperides echoed.

And with the sky behind them fading into twilight, they stepped into the world of gods, monsters, and war.

Let the realms tremble.

The daughters of the Eveningstar were coming home.

~☆~

Ophis was curled comfortably on the velvet chaise of the sitting room, her expression serene as she flipped through the pages of a newly acquired cookbook titled "Eternal Flame: Recipes That Survived The Ages." Her violet eyes skimmed over a section on ambrosia-infused soufflé with vague interest—until a soft, rhythmic knock echoed from the front door.

She blinked once.

Then sighed.

Closing the book with unhurried grace, she rose silently and glided down the stairs, her bare feet whispering against the marble steps. The air around her shifted with that peculiar stillness that followed wherever the Infinite Dragon God went—like the universe was holding its breath.

She opened the door.

And paused.

Standing on the threshold were three women. Strange, yes—but familiar in an ancient, forgotten way. Each one radiant in her own right, yet undeniably other.

The one in front had sun-gold eyes and hair that shimmered like honey at dusk, her armor styled like a warrior-priestess, regal and battle-ready. Her gaze was sharp, calculating—but softened by something warmer beneath.

To her right stood a woman clad in crimson, her hair long and dark like blood-wine, her stance relaxed but dangerous, like a coiled flame waiting to unfurl.

And the last? Clad in flowing white and gold robes that danced like starlight, her gaze was distant—dreamy—but her presence hummed with quiet power, the type that bent time with a whisper.

Ophis tilted her head, blinking once.

"You are not solicitors," she said simply.

The golden-eyed one smiled.

"No. We're looking for our mother."

Ophis stared.

Then slowly blinked again.

"Hespera?"

"In the flesh," Erytheia replied, stepping forward with a graceful nod.

Ophis stepped aside wordlessly, gesturing for them to enter.

"She's torturing someone in the Dimensional Gap," she said mildly. "Tea?"

The Hesperides stepped inside.

"Yes, please," said Khrysothemis brightly.

Aigle raised a brow. "Torturing?"

"Azazel," Ophis replied. "Brother. Experimented on her. She's very... focused right now."

The three women shared a glance.

Khrysothemis exhaled. "Well... guess we came at the right time."

Aigle smirked. "Or the worst."

Erytheia just grinned. "She's going to love this reunion."