The Abyss Beckons

The streets of Heaven were silent—a disquieting silence, as if the realm itself held its breath. Lute wandered aimlessly, her wings dragging behind her. The aftermath of the Extermination weighed heavily on the celestial realm. For centuries, Heaven had celebrated the cleansing of Hell as a righteous triumph, but this time, something felt... off. Adam, the archangel who had long served as the Exterminators’ commander, was gone—killed in the chaos of the most recent purge.

Lute was one to mourn the likes of Adam. He had been ruthless, a zealot whose cause justified any cruelty. Yet his absence had left a strange void—not just in command, but in the fabric of the heavens themselves.

The alabaster streets stretched endlessly before her, eerily empty. Where were the others? Even during the quietest hours, Heaven was never this still. The golden light that usually bathed the realm was dim, muted as though some unseen shadow had settled over the skies.

She paused, her gaze shifting to a faint crack in the ground. Cracks were unheard of in Heaven, where perfection was eternal. This one snaked across the pristine marble, pulsating faintly with an unsettling black glow. Lute stepped back instinctively.

“Strange…” she murmured, her voice breaking the oppressive silence.

Before she could take another step, the world around her warped. The streets seemed to dissolve, melting like wax under a black sun. The golden hues of Heaven’s skies bled into shades of grey and deep crimson. A high-pitched hum filled her ears, growing louder and louder until it became unbearable.

And then, she fell.

---

Lute hit the ground hard, the impact forcing the breath from her lungs. She groaned, pushing herself to her knees. The surface beneath her was cold and unyielding, a vast expanse of obsidian glass that reflected her distorted image back at her.

Lute shuffled herself upwards weakly, "Where.. am i?" She muttered, instinctively gripping her spear.