The Abyss.
No one knew when the name arose. Since the descent of myths, this earthly wound had consumed countless lives, swallowing blood and flesh, spewing sin and punishment. The Abyss was called God's enemy, the Church's dark mirror—the inverse and corruption of all life.
The blessed ascended to heaven; the sinful fell to the Abyss.
If the holy city radiated sanctity, the Abyss harbored the deepest sins.
Amid grotesque, twisted demons, the Abyss's deepest hall stood apart. Built of white bone, it lacked the frenzied bloodshed of other regions, exuding an eerie silence and oppression. Even the most rabid demons dared not approach.
"You say they've finally found that pitiful little angel?"
In the grim bone hall, a sultry, mature voice echoed, dripping with allure that could drive men mad, its tone casual.
Senia reclined on a brass throne, her posture languid yet elegant. Her voluptuous figure was draped in a sheer black bodysuit, accentuating her melon-like breasts and a deep cleavage. Her slender waist swayed gently, paired with wide, fertile hips that formed an exaggerated curve, practically begging to be ravished—a body that ignited primal urges.
Her black bodysuit split at the sides, adorned with seductive patterns, revealing creamy skin smoother than any human's. Her long, pale legs crossed, tempting one to imagine them clamped around a waist in ecstasy.
Tall, rivaling grown men, her dark hair spilled over her back and chest, an invitation to plunge into her embrace, to suckle and thrust, even if it meant being drained to a husk.
A pair of noble demon horns crowned her, and a black tail flicked from her towering hips, slapping her round, heavy rear, sending ripples through it.
Her face was a vision of mature allure, with a delicate nose and phoenix eyes rimmed in dark shadow, exuding raw temptation that could spur endless desire, shattering men's reason.
Every inch of her was a masterpiece of seduction, the ultimate bedmate—the embodiment of lust, the conquest every man dreamed of.
Senia, the Sin Demon of Lust, didn't fear the archangel's return. Rather, she welcomed it. A worthy foe promised amusement. Only by outwitting and overpowering such a being, molding them into a slave of desire, did her endless life gain meaning.
"Lilith, what do you think?" Senia asked, glancing toward another voice in the hall.
"How should I know? Don't bother me!"
A petulant, youthful voice snapped back, brimming with irritation.
Lilith, a white-haired, red-eyed girl, sprawled inelegantly on the bone floor, chin propped on her hands, feet kicking lazily.
Her face was as vibrant as a daisy, her scarlet eyes fierce, sharp canines flashing as she spoke. Still youthful, perhaps fifteen or sixteen, she was a budding beauty. Yet her figure outstripped her "peers," her raised hips towering, her ample chest flattened against the floor.
As the vampire progenitor, Lilith was anything but refined, her attention fixed on a bizarre machine—an ancient "computer" from Old History ruins, tinkered with for years until she mastered it.
"Heh heh heh…"
Lilith let out a goofy chuckle, unbecoming of her status, thoroughly amused by the bizarre antics of humans on the screen. She found humans endlessly entertaining—how could they create such hilarious animations? She resolved to capture a bunch to amuse her next time.
"If you keep slacking off and dodging work, you won't have such leisurely days ahead," Senia said, exasperated.
Despite being born alongside her fifty years ago, Lilith remained underdeveloped, both physically and mentally, acting like a child. It was maddening. Torturing humans and reveling in pleasure were far more fun, yet she preferred watching cartoonish puppets on a screen.
"What? You mean I won't get to watch my animations?" Lilith yelped, clutching her precious computer like a dog guarding its food, glancing around as if someone might smash it to bits.
Senia nodded, her mature, seductive frame stretching languidly, exuding a sultry scent. "The Church's zealots schemed for decades. Despite a hiccup, they summoned an angel from the Creator's side. Don't forget—the last Sin Demon of Pride fell to an archangel."
"An archangel, huh…" Lilith counted on her fingers, weighing her odds. "I'm no match for a mythical being right now. Plus, the sun's out there—fighting could get messy."
She hesitated.
Senia glanced at the computer and its tangled cords.
"…But for my digital darlings, I'll fight to the death!" Lilith's tone turned resolute, ringing with conviction.
Over the seven days Elaviel stayed in Truman's shabby room, his life remained calm, with only two ripples disturbing the surface.
The first occurred on the third day of Eden's creation.
In the dead of night, a group of desperate thugs broke into Truman's shack. Their plan was simple: they'd heard a lone young man lived here, hoarding prayer coins without spending, a perfect target for extortion in the lawless slum where blood stained most hands.
But tonight was different. Roused from a steamy dream of ravishing Elaviel, Truman groggily saw several burly strangers barge in, spewing vile curses.
In the next instant, they vanished like smoke, as if it were all a dream.
Indeed, as they stormed in, Elaviel didn't even lift her eyelids. With a casual gesture, she erased their existence, easier than wiping dust from a windowsill.
Truman didn't sleep that night—not from fear, but excitement. He'd seen few supernatural feats, always distant and unreal, but this brutal, effortless killing was a first.
Elaviel seemed a touch more real in his eyes.
The second incident came on the fifth day.
Leaving the church, Truman was stunned when Elaviel, usually detached from the world, approached him. She lifted his rough hand with her jade-like fingers, gently tracing it as if sensing something.
They walked under the sunset, the sky ablaze with crimson, tinting their faces red.
Truman's heart fluttered with confusion and secret glee, wondering if she'd warmed to his masculine charm, ready for him to prove his prowess. But back home, she released his hand and returned to her corner, a rare trace of regret on her face as she murmured, "Just an utterly ordinary human…"
Truman's little virgin (?) heart shattered.
Fuck, what's wrong with being ordinary? Wait, I guess I'm eating their rice—prayer coins from the Church, and she's their angel… With her soft warmth so close, he didn't dare move, forcing a meek smile while his mind wandered.