The Devil's Bride
By Rapwizzy Debaron
Episode 70: Wings of the Storm
Rain lashed the glass towers of the Celestial Dome, each drop hissing like embers against the cold stone. At the heart of the storm stood Seraphina, her hair whipped into a crown of flames, her wings extended—larger, darker, and more radiant than ever before.
Lightning danced along the sky as if the heavens themselves responded to her breath.
Lucian watched from a distance, cloaked in shadow. Her strength had grown beyond what he anticipated. Every step she took now stirred ancient echoes—the kind that even hell feared.
She was no longer a bride waiting to be chosen.
She was becoming a force the realms had no name for.
He clenched his fists. "If she continues like this… not even I can protect her from what's coming."
Meanwhile, in the chamber of whispers, Eloria traced a burning sigil into the stone floor, speaking to the ethereal flame.
"She will come for the throne of fire and ash," murmured the spirit. "But to ascend, the bride must bleed."
Eloria paled. "She's already bled more than most gods."
"Yet the gods demand more."
Seraphina stood before a high council of celestial exiles—angels who had chosen neither heaven nor hell, who lingered in the gray spaces.
"I need your allegiance," she said. "I need your blades."
An armored angel stepped forward. "And if we refuse?"
"Then stand aside. Because I will not stop. I will not be the pawn of your war nor the price of your peace."
He looked at her—at the storm in her eyes—and slowly dropped to one knee.
One by one, they followed.
Lucian watched as a rift opened behind him. From its swirling abyss emerged a figure clad in bone-white robes, his face hidden behind a porcelain mask.
"Brother," the figure said.
Lucian narrowed his eyes. "Azariel."
The ancient devil stepped into the light. "The seals are breaking. The veil weakens. And your bride... she walks too close to ruin."
Lucian's jaw tightened. "She walks the only path left."
"Then the realms will burn."
"So be it."
Azariel studied his younger brother. "Would you burn the worlds for her?"
Lucian didn't hesitate. "I would burn eternity."
At that moment, Seraphina's scream shattered the silence of the Dome. Her wings cracked with molten energy, and from her chest, a symbol etched itself into her skin—half sun, half scythe.
Eloria gasped from afar. "The bride has chosen…"
"She chose war."
To be continued…
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this chapter! The war draws near, and every choice matters.