Lord of Flies
Lord of Flies hovered above the ruined city of Sodom, wings slicing through the ash-thick air. The streets below were fractured, haunted by the echoes of war. But he was pleased. Genuinely pleased. Lord of Sloth had agreed to help with the plan, a rare moment of cooperation among the princes.
As he glided over the shattered rooftops, he spotted a gathering of new sympathizers humans, mostly men, some women, all marked by desperation and hunger for purpose. He descended slowly, landing with quiet authority.
"Good," he said, voice sharp and smooth. "I see you know how to listen."
A man stepped forward, posture rigid, eyes burning with loyalty.
"Yes, sir. Our allegiance is yours."
Lord of Flies studied him.
"Your name?"
"Tim."
Lord of Flies nodded.
"Very well, Tim. I'm placing you in charge of this group. You'll lead them to Eden. My army is stationed there."
Tim nodded, pride swelling in his chest.
Lord of Flies reached into his cloak and pulled out a small pin black metal, etched with a crimson emblem.
"Wear this. It marks you as one of mine. The other demons will know you're not prey… but ally. Tell them you serve under my legion, the second strongest in existence."
Tim took the pin with reverence, then turned to the group.
"You heard the prince. We march to Eden."
The crowd stirred, murmurs of purpose rippling through them. They began to move, a slow migration toward the horizon.
Lord of Flies watched them go, arms folded, wings twitching in the wind.
Tim's not bad, he thought. We'll see what he can do
As Lord of Flies ascended once more into the sky, his wings slicing through the dusk, a vibration pulsed from the device tucked beneath his cloak. One of only three smartphones in existence, two in Lucifer's possession, one in his own.
He opened it.
A single message.
"It's time to get him involved."
No signature. None needed.
Lord of Flies closed the phone slowly, his expression unreadable. He knew exactly who Lucifer meant.
Him.
Long ago, when humanity was still crawling through the mud of Eden, demons walked beside them teaching fire, forging weapons, whispering secrets of forbidden knowledge . But one demon broke the sacred law. He didn't just rebel, he launched a full-scale revolt. A political campaign. An army. He rallied the Princes of Old, promising a new order. A throne stolen from Lucifer himself.
But Lucifer was too much.
He crushed the rebellion.
Most of the traitors were obliterated.
Lord of Flies, then just a servant, had stayed loyal through the blood-soaked chaos. And loyalty had its reward, his own legion, second only to Lucifer's.
But a message like this… meant something dire.
Was Lucifer preparing for war?
Or was he waking a weapon buried in the earth?
Lord of Flies flew toward the forest, toward a cave swallowed by shadow. He landed at its mouth and stepped inside. No fire. No light. Just silence and stone.
He walked deeper.
The air grew colder. Just darkness and the sound of slow water drops filled the cave.
Then stairs. Endless stairs, spiraling down like a descent into the center of the world. Fossils lined the walls. Ancient bones. Forgotten beasts.
At last, he reached a narrow walkway suspended over a pit of black. In the center a figure, chained by both arms to a boiling slab of obsidian. Head bowed. Motionless.
Lord of Flies hovered forward, boots barely touching the stone.
He cleared his throat.
"Hello, Azael."