Across the divide:an angel Unholy Desire

Title 4: A Hero's Gratitude part 2

Michael, ever the diplomat, offered a reassuring smile, but Troy sensed a flicker of unease in his son's usually gentle demeanor. Vain, the apple of his mother's eye, preened with self-absorption, obliviousto the tension in the room. Lastly, Dyrroth, the youngest, remained silent, his crimson eyes veiled beneath a curtain of raven hair, an enigma even to his own kin.

"The whispers grow louder," King Troy began, his voice heavy with concern. "Rebellious factions stir in the eastern provinces, their discontent fueled by rumors of Inferia's dwindling resources and misplaced priorities."Cobra scoffed. "Let them grumble, Father. A firm hand is what these upstarts need. A swift, crushing display of our might will silence their dissent."

Michael countered, "Violence is rarely the answer, brother. We must address the root of their grievances. Perhaps a delegation, a promise of aid…Vain scoffed, his perfectly manicured nails drumming a staccato beat on the table. "Appeasing weakness? How unbecoming. A show of force will quell any rebellion before it takes root."

Dyrroth, finally breaking his silence, spoke in a voice as smooth as obsidian, "Perhaps there is truth in both your arguments. A display of power coupled with a promise of a just resolution might quell the flames without resorting to needless bloodshed"King Troy nodded, a flicker of hope igniting in his eyes. Dyrroth, for all his quiet contemplation, often possessed the wisdom that eluded his elder siblings.

"Then it is decided," the King declared. "Cobra, you shall lead a contingent of our finest warriors to the eastern provinces. Not to subjugate, but to establish order and assess the situation. Michael, you shall accompany him, acting as an ambassador, offering our aid and a chance for dialogue."Cobra bristled, but a single steely glance from his father silenced any protest. Michael inclined his head in agreement.

Vain pouted, "But Father, what of me? Surely I can be of more use than this...tediousdiplomacy?"

"There will be time for your talents later, my dear Vain," King Troy placated. "For now, Inferia needs a united front. We shall face this challenge as a family."

Dyrroth remained silent, but a hint of a knowing smile played on his lips. The journey to the eastern provinces was just the beginning. A stormotives as hidden as Dyrroth's crimson gaze.

The repetition of the passage about King Troy sending his children to the garden seems like anassuming it was mentioned only once.

Curiosity piqued, the siblings filed out of the grand hall, their usual bickering momentarily forgotten. Cobra, ever the leader, took point, his dark brows furrowed in concentration. Michael, his diplomatic nature ever-present, fell into step beside him, a silent question hanging in the air. Vain, his pout replaced by a spark of intrigued anticipation, preened his hair, ensuring he looked his best upon meeting this mysterious relativesilently. Dyrroth, ever the enigma, followed , his crimson gaze scanning the corridors for any hidden significance.

Their walk led them through winding hallways adorned with tapestries depicting Inferia's glorious history. Finally, they emerged into the palace gardens, a haven of blooming flowers and cascading fountains. In the center, beneath the shade of a sprawling banyan tree, sat a cloaked figure. As they approached, the figure rose, revealing a man with an uncanny resemblance to their father, King Troy. The lines on his face mirrored their father's, etched with the weight of years andresponsibility, yet his eyes held a twinkle of amusement that was absent in the King's stern gaze.

"Uncle?" Cobra boomed, the first to break the silence.

The man chuckled, a warm, rumbling sound. "Indeed, Cobra. It's good to see you all, though the circumstances of our meeting are less than ideal.Michael stepped forward, his voice gentle, "Uncle, Father mentioned something about someone... Zero?"

The man's smile dimmed slightly. "Ah, yes. Zero. He's not here, but he has entrusted me with something for you." He reached into the folds of his cloak and produced a rolled-up parchment, its edges glowing with an ethereal light. "This is a magic scroll, imbued with the combined power of your bloodline. It will be a crucial tool in the challenges you face ahead.

uncle Said to dyrroth You are the one who will take the scroll from you, it is brown and red in color Dyrroth said thank you uncle And he opened the red scroll and the brown scroll He opened the two, he got blue eyes, his ability was like Susan but he looked like a fox, not a human, he was big with a sword. Cobra was surprised by what he saw in dyrroth susano but it wasn't a human if it wasn't a fox And he also has fire magic in water magic like magic in dark magic JustDyrroth

knelt before his wizened uncle Said, the desert wind whipping sand around their cloaked figures. "Uncle," Dyrroth rumbled, his voice a tremor in the dry air, "the whispers grow louder. They speak of a power I can claim, a destiny that awaits.""

Said's milky eyes, clouded with age, held Dyrroth's gaze. A rasping cough escaped his lips before he spoke. "Destiny can be a fickle mistress, Dyrroth. But there is truth in the whispers. The power you seek lies within the Dunes of Transformation

He gestured towards a weathered satchel strapped to Dyrroth's back. "Within, you will find two scrolls – one the color of blood, the other the hue of sun-baked earth. Only one holds the key you search for."

Dyrroth dipped his head in gratitude. With a resolute stride, he ventured into the heart of the dunes. The relentless sun beat down, turning the sand into a furnace. He finally reached a towering, crimson rock, its surface etched with swirling patterns.

Following his gut, Dyrroth unsheathed the crimson scroll. As he unfurled it, a burst of energy erupted, enveloping him in a blinding light. When it subsided, Dyrroth was no longer the hulking desert warrior.

A gasp escaped Cobra, who had been trailing Dyrroth unseen. In Dyrroth's place stood a towering creature with fur the color of burnished copper and piercing blue eyes. A fox's cunning flickered in their depths, yet Dyrroth's imposing size and the massive broadsword strapped to his back spoke of a warrior's spirit.The most astonishing change, however, was the magic that crackled around him. Fire, the element he long wielded, danced alongside a shimmering blue energy, like water infused with moonlight. And within it all, a darkness pulsed, an echo of his past power.

Dyrroth flexed his new form, a mixture of awe and disorientation washing over him. He was no longer Dyrroth, yet the essence of the desert warrior remained. He raised his head and let out a mighty roar, the sound echoing through the dunes, a declaration of his transformation.

Cobra, fear battling with curiosity, finally

emerged from the shadows. "Dyrroth?" he stammered, voice barely above a whisper. "Or should I call you... Susanoo?"Dyrroth turned his fiery gaze towards Cobra. A smile, both feral and knowing, played on his fox-like lips. "I am the one who

wields the power," he boomed, his voice now imbued with an otherworldly resonance. "And this power," he continued, flames erupting from his outstretched hand, merging with the water magic crackling around him, "is unlike anything the world has ever seen."The desert wind picked up, swirling around the transformed Dyrroth, the herald of a new legend born from sand and firea creature both beautiful and terrifying – Susanoo, the fire-wielding kitsune. m was brewing on the horizon, and within the walls of the Inferian palace, shadows danced, their

Dyrroth's vision swam back into focus. The desert wind whipped against his face, carrying the faint scent of ozone and… something metallic? He blinked, the harsh sunlight momentarily blinding. Memories, fragmented and chaotic, flooded his mind. Flames, a voice booming with otherworldly

power, a searing transformation… Susanoo.Panic clawed at his throat. Where was he? What had happened? His gaze darted around, taking in the desolate landscape of sand dunes stretching as far as the eye could see. Relief washed over him as he spotted a familiar figure huddled beneath a lone, gnarled outcropping of rock – his uncle, Angle.

Dyrroth scrambled to his feet, a wave of dizziness momentarily stopping him in his tracks. "Uncle!" he croaked, his voice hoarse. "What happened?"Angle looked up, his face etched with worry. "Dyrroth! Thank goodness you're alright. You nearly scared the spirits out of me, boy." He gestured towards the scorched sand surrounding them, the remnants of Dyrroth's fiery rampage. "What were you thinking, channeling that demon lord's power again?"

Shame burned in Dyrroth's chest, hotter than any flame. The memory of Susanoo's power, seductive and overwhelming, sent a shiver down his spine. "I… I couldn't control it, Uncle. It took over."

Angle sighed, a deep rumble in his chest. "We all knew this would be a challenge, Dyrroth. The relative transpoint is a powerful tool, but wielding demon lord

energy is no easy feat. It takes discipline, focus, and a whole lot of practiceDyrroth hung his head, the weight of his recklessness settling in. He'd nearly lost himself again, become a slave to that destructive power. But Uncle Angle was right. He couldn't let fear paralyze him. He had to learn to control it.

A wave of heat washed over Dyrroth, a surge of power unlike anything he'd experienced before. It wasn't the raw, destructive energy of Susanoo, but a controlled intensity, a focused current

coursing through him. He flexed his hand, a dark aura crackling around his fingers.

Uncle Angle's eyes widened. "Dyrroth… you…" He trailed off, speechless.

Shame burned in Dyrroth's chest, hotter than any flame. The memory of Susanoo's

power, seductive and overwhelming, sent a shiver down his spine. "I… I couldn't control it, Uncle. It took over."

Angle sighed, a deep rumble in his chest. "We all knew this would be a challenge, Dyrroth. The relative transpoint is a powerful tool, but wielding demon lord energy is no easy feat. It takes discipline, focus, and a whole lot of practiceDyrroth

hung his head, the weight of his recklessness settling in. He'd nearly lost himself again, become a slave to that destructive power. But Uncle Angle was right. He couldn't let fear paralyze him. He had to learn to control it And suddenly cobra dyrroth spoke do you want to control the camp of the demon lord I have

something so you can control it dyrroth asked how he is controlled Cobra said it's easy so you don't have to practice, make a contract, two, take a piece of paper and take your blood and span a little breast, then put his blood dyrroth said Alright bro, I'll do it

Using the power of kobra he helped dyrroth make a contract to control his power and after a few hours of making the contract he controlled the Diamond Lord, the contract is complete, dyrroth said thank you very much brother cobra said it's okay, youngest Please continue the story no question as Show draftsWith battle cries echoing through the air, Cobra and Dyrroth surged forward, a whirlwind of fangs and blades.

Cobra, a blur of violet scales, weaved through enemy ranks, her whip, Insatiable Thorn, lashing out with venomous precision. Each strike sent shivers down spines and limbs alike, turning foes to petrified statues before shattering them into dust.

Dyrroth, a tempest of crimson energy, was a whirlwind of destruction. His Abyssal Blade cleaved through flesh and bone with horrifying ease, leaving trails of carmine in its wake. His very presence seemed to drain the life force from those around him, weakening them before they even reached striking distance.

The enemy, a ragtag group of monstrous creatures, faltered under the unexpected onslaught. Their initial bravado quickly dissolved into panicked shrieks as Cobra and Dyrroth carved a bloody path through their midst. One hulking brute, seemingly their leader, roared in defiance and charged at Dyrroth.

The crimson warrior met the charge head-on. Their blades clashed in a shower of sparks, the ground trembling with the force of the impact. Dyrroth, reveling in the clash, pushed back with a surge of dark energy. The brute, overwhelmed, was sent flying backwards, crashing into a group of his comrades and sending them sprawling.Sensing an opportunity, Cobra darted past the grappling warriors.

whip, Insatiable Thorn, wrapped around a nearby enemy, its barbs digging deep. With a sickening yank, she ripped the creature towards her, using it as a living shield against a volley of arrows. The enemy

archer unit flinched in horror, their aim thrown off by the unexpected maneuver.

Cobra capitalized on their hesitation, launching herself into their midst. Her whip danced a deadly ballet, disarming archers and tripping unsuspecting warriors. WithAngelica fluttered through the Celestial library, her cerulean dress swirling around her ankles like a summer breeze. Sunlight streamed through the translucent ceiling, casting playful patterns on the polished marble floor. Unlike the harsh heat that beat down on Mortalis, the Celestial sunlight held a gentle warmth, nourishing rather than scorching.

At 16, Angelica was the picture of celestial beauty. Her golden hair shimmered like spun sunlight, and her eyes held the same clear blue of the endless sky above. Unlike the other Nakiri, celestial beings of pure energy who could take any form, Angelica

possessed a permanent human form, a gift – or perhaps a curse – inherited from her human mother.Today, however, the usual lilt in Angelica's step was absent. A frown creased her brow

as she flipped through a dusty tome titled "Chronicles of the Broken Pact." The book spoke of a bygone era, a time before Celestia and Infernia existed, when Aethel was a single realm. It spoke of a devastating war between demons and angels, fueled by a mysterious black energy that threatened to consume everything.

The tales sent shivers down Angelica's spine. The black energy was a forbidden topic in Celestia, a dark stain on their otherwise pristine history. Legends whispered of the first Celestial King, Leslie, who along with the Infernian King, Troy, had used this very same energy to vanquish the

initial threat. Yet, the cost had been immense. The use of black energy had fractured Aethel, creating Celestia and Infernia, and leaving Mortalis, the human realm, caught in the precarious balance between the two.A heavy sigh escaped Angelica's lips. Lately, she had felt a growing unease, a prickling sensation beneath her skin that spoke of impending danger. It was a feeling she couldn't ignore.

Determined to learn more, she continued her search, her heart pounding with a growing sense of foreboding. Angelica slammed the heavy tome shut, the finality of the sound echoing through the silent library. The growing prickle of unease was morphing into a knot of dread in her stomach. John's hesitant knock at the door startled her.

"Enter, John," she commanded, her voice betraying a tremor of nerves.

The silver-haired butler, impeccable as always, stepped into the room. "Your Highness," he began, bowing low. "The celestial magic angels have arrived with the new scrolls for your selection. They await you in the training grounds, near The Wall."

towards the churning darkness beyond The Wall.A colossal boom echoed as John's blast propelled her forward. The Infernian landscape materialized before her – a desolate wasteland of cracked earth and glowing fissures spewing noxious fumes. Monstrous shapes, half-seen in the diminfernal light, shrieked in surprise at her sudden appearance.

Instinct, honed by years of fencing practice, flared within Angelica. The impact with the ground sent a jolt through her icy form, but she rolled with the momentum, reforming seamlessly. Fear threatened to overwhelm her, but John's voice echoed in her mind, calm and clear: "Focus, Princess. Channel your magic. Become the ice."

Taking a deep breath – or at least what felt like a breath in her current form – Angelica closed her eyes. Images from the magic

scroll flooded her mind – shimmering waves, swirling ice storms. This raw, untamed magic felt vastly different from the controlled spells she'd practiced with the court mages.

Hesitantly, Angelica focused on the gelid sensation within her. A tendril of frost snaked outwards, freezing a grotesque, clawed hand reaching for her. Emboldened, she willed more ice to form, a shimmering shield erupting around her, deflecting

blasts of infernal fire.The Infernian creatures, a grotesque mix of twisted beasts and mutated humans, surrounded her, snarling and snapping their razor-sharp teeth. Angelica knew she couldn't hold forever. They were too many. She needed an offensive strategy, and fast.Suddenly, a memory surfaced – a maneuver from her fencing lessons, a disarming move reliant on swiftness and precision.

Channeling the ice magic and picturing the maneuver, Angelica launched herself into a whirlwind of icy blades. Razor-sharp shards of ice materialized around her, each one a deadly extension of her will.With a battle cry that echoed eerily across the barren landscape, Angelica became a whirlwind of ice and death. The Infernian creatures fell

before her icy fury, their screams swallowed by the howling infernal winds.

But even as she fought, a nagging doubt gnawed at her. How long could she maintain this form? Was this all she was now – a weapon? And what awaited her on the other side of these infernal hordes?A shard of ice dislodged from Angelica's swirling form, a chilling reminder of thequestion gnawing at her. The Infernian beasts, once a tide of claws and fangs,

were now a scattering of shattered forms, their demise a testament to her power. Yet, the victory tasted hollow.Her icy rage, once a burning resolve, began to feel like a brittle shell. Cracks appeared at the edges of her vision, glimpses of the woman beneath the storm. Could she break free, or was sheeach strike, she whispered a venomous curse, sapping their strength and turning their own bodies against them.The battle raged on, a symphony of clashing steel and tortured screams. But the tide had turned. Cobra and Dyrroth, an unstoppable force of nature, cut through the enemy ranks like a

scythe through wheat. Their movements were a deadly dance, their power an undeniable force. The creatures, once a menacing horde, were now reduced to scattered pockets of resistance, their morale shattered.

As the final enemy crumpled to dust, Cobra

and Dyrroth stood panting amidst the c*****e. Their bodies were slick with sweat and gore, a testament to the brutality of the fight. Yet, a satisfied grin stretched

across Dyrroth's face, and a glint of pride shone in Cobra's crimson eyes. They had tested their power, and found it wanting for nothing. The legend of their might would only grow stronger from this day forward.

The acrid tang of blood lingered in the air, a grim reminder of the battle that had just transpired. Exhaustion, a heavy cloak, settled on Cobra and Dyrroth as they surveyed the battlefield. Corpses, twisted and broken, littered the ground, a testament to their overwhelming power.

Dyrroth wiped the crimson splatter off his blade with a sigh. "Seems like we overdid it, Cobra," he remarked, his voice raspy. "Didn't take long to flatten those weaklings."

Cobra, ever-focused, sheathed her whip, Insatiable Thorn, with a practiced flick. "True," she said, her voice as sharp as the barbs on her weapon. "But victory is victory, no matter how easy." Still, a flicker of concern crossed her reptilian eyes. "We were meant to test our power, but this was…"

Dyrroth snorted, a sound devoid of humor. "A m******e? Perhaps. But it served its purpose, didn't it? Now, let's get back to the blasted castle. My muscles feel like lead."

Cobra nodded in agreement. "Yes, I almost forgot. Back to the castle, and then…" her voice trailed off, a hint of excitement creeping in. "Then we go and thank the one who granted us this power."

A shared look passed between them. The being they were about to meet, the one who had bestowed upon them this devastating strength, remained an enigma. Dyrroth had been hesitant, wary of dealing with such an unknown entity. Yet, the allure of power had been too strong to resist. They had completed the gruesome task – a test of their strength, a display of their potential. Now, it was time to face their benefactor, to understand the price of such monstrous power.

As they turned towards the looming silhouette of the castle in the distance, a sense of foreboding settled over them. The castle, once a place of familiarity, now seemed shrouded in an unsettling mystery. The promise of power hung heavy in the air, a double-edged sword that promised both liberation and a terrifying unknown future.

Without a word, Cobra and Dyrroth exchanged a tense glance. Their father's fury crackled in the air, a storm brewing beneath the castle's ominous shadow. Disobeying his direct orders was a capital offense, yet the pull of the hidden power within its walls was undeniable.

Troy's booming voice echoed, "Explain yourselves! Those soldiers were under my protection. Don't you understand the precarious dance we play with alliances? Now, thanks to your recklessness, our position is even more precarious!"

Cobra, ever the voice of reason, stepped forward. "Father, there's more to the story. We intercepted whispers about a hidden chamber within the castle, one rumored to hold a power that could…" His voice trailed off, unsure how to reveal the truth of their discovery without sounding heretical.Dyrroth, however, was not one for subtlety. He slammed his fist against the nearby stone wall. "We found a map, Father! A map leading to a power that could free us from the clutches of the angels and their suffocating control!"

Troy narrowed his eyes. The mention of defying the angels sent shivers down his spine. He knew of the whispers, the forbidden legends passed down in hushed tones. But challenging the celestial authority was a fool's errand, a one-way trip to oblivion.

The tension stretched taut. Father and sons glared at each other, the weight of their choices hanging heavy in the air. Behind them, the castle loomed like a silent judge, its secrets simmering just beneath the surface. Finally, Troy broke the silence.

"Very well," he said, his voice laced with a bitter resignation. "You've made your choice. But before you delve into this madness, there's something you need to know. The power you seek… it isn't without a price."

Tory said Children, I have something to tell you, the history of our kingdom and the angels, listen, Codra and Dyrroth said, we will listen to you, father.

Troy said The first time a stone fell in the sky, there was a strong energy, or the one who got it was a macaroon with a strong power, so strong it was difficult to control, it almost destroyed the thing.Two kingdomalmost destroyed the thing.Two kingdom angels and demons worked together, the king of the angels Leslie and I just defeated the enemy and peace returned the next day you my children I will send In our special ground to become a demon Lord kayu Even the angels send there those who can join for training

A flicker of surprise crossed Cobra and Dyrroth's faces. Their father, a demon lord, trained by angels? It was a story they hadn't heard before, one that defied everything they thought they knew.

Troy continued, his voice heavy with memories, "Long before your time, a blazing meteor streaked across the sky, crashing down upon the very ground where this castle now stands. From its fiery heart emerged a power unlike anything ever seen before – raw, untamed, and brimming with immense potential."He paused, his gaze distant, as if reliving the scene. "It was a time of great fear and chaos. Macarons, powerful beings fueled by this celestial energy, rose from the wreckage, threatening to tear the world apart. The balance between demons and angels teetered on the brink."

As they turned towards the looming silhouette of the castle in the distance, a sense of foreboding settled over them. The castle, once a place of familiarity, now seemed shrouded in an unsettling mystery. The promise of power hung heavy in the air, a double-edged sword that promised both liberation and a terrifying unknown future.

While cobra and dyrroth were returning to the castle they saw their father Troy because he was angry with the two cobra Said Why are you here?Troy said why did you attack those soldiers don't you know our allies that is my court that is where I wish I was going How can I go to the angel's palace? Let's just go back to the castle Continue the story no asking questions

Without a word, Cobra and Dyrroth exchanged a tense glance. Their father's fury crackled in the air, a storm brewing beneath the castle's ominous shadow. Disobeying his direct orders was a capital offense, yet the pull of the hidden power within its walls was undeniable.

Troy's booming voice echoed, "Explain yourselves! Those soldiers were under my protection. Don't you understand the precarious dance we play with alliances? Now, thanks to your recklessness, our position is even more precarious!"

Cobra, ever the voice of reason, stepped forward. "Father, there's more to the story. We intercepted whispers about a hidden chamber within the castle, one rumored to hold a power that could…" His voice trailed off, unsure how to reveal the truth of their discovery without sounding heretical.angels? It was a story they hadn't heard before, one that defied everything they thought they knew.

Troy continued, his voice heavy with memories, "Long before your time, a blazing meteor streaked across the sky, crashing down upon the very ground where this castle now stands. From its fiery heart emerged a power unlike anything ever seen before – raw, untamed, and brimming with immense potential."He paused, his gaze distant, as if reliving the scene. "It was a time of great fear and chaos. Macarons, powerful beings fueled by this celestial energy, rose from the wreckage, threatening to tear the world apart. The balance between demons and angels teetered on the brink."

"It was then," Troy declared, his voice gaining strength, "that an unlikely alliance formed. Leslie, the king of the angels, and I, a young demon warrior, stood shoulder to shoulder in the face of this catastrophe. Together, we fought tooth and nail, channeling our opposing energies to quell the rampaging macarons. The battle was fierce, the ground itself

trembling under the onslaught of magic."A hint of pride flickered in his eyes. "Victory came at a great cost, but we prevailed. Peace returned, fragile but precious. As a symbol of this newfound unity, a training ground was established – a place where demons and angels could hone their skills and learn from each other, ensuring such a conflict never arose again.And it was here," Troy pointed towards the looming castle, "that I, a young demon, received my training under the watchful eye of angels. You, my sons, are testaments to this pact. You carry the blood of both demon and angel within your veins."Cobra and Dyrroth absorbed this revelation, their minds reeling. Their world view, once black and white, now held shades of grey. The lines between good and evil, demon and angel, seemed to blur.

As they turned towards the looming silhouette of the castle in the distance, a sense of foreboding settled over them. The castle, once a place of familiarity, now seemed shrouded in an unsettling mystery. The promise of power hung heavy in the air, a double-edged sword that promised both liberation and a terrifying unknown future.

While cobra and dyrroth were returning to the castle they saw their father Troy because he was angry with the two cobra

Said Why are you here?

Troy said why did you attack those soldiers don't you know our allies that is my court that is where I wish I was going How can I go to the angel's palace? Let's just go back to the castle Continue the story no asking questionsWithout a word, Cobra and Dyrroth exchanged a tense glance. Their father's fury crackled in the air, a storm brewing beneath the castle's ominous shadow. Disobeying his direct orders was a capital offense, yet the pull of the hidden power within its walls was undeniable.

Troy's booming voice echoed, "Explain yourselves! Those soldiers were under my protection. Don't you understand the precarious dance we play with alliances? Now, thanks to your recklessness, our position is even more precarious!"

Cobra, ever the voice of reason, stepped forward. "Father, there's more to the story. We intercepted whispers about a hidden chamber within the castle, one rumored to hold a power that could…" His voice trailed off, unsure how to reveal the truth of their discovery without sounding heretical.

Dyrroth, however, was not one for subtlety. He slammed his fist against the nearby stone wall. "We found a map, Father! A map leading to a power that could free us from the clutches of the angels and their suffocating control!"

Troy narrowed his eyes. The mention of defying the angels sent shivers down his spine. He knew of the whispers, the forbidden legends passed down in hushed tones. But challenging the celestial authority was a fool's errand, a one-way trip to oblivion.That map," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "is nothing but a trap, a ploy to lure the rebellious. The angels already control every inch of this land, every whisper of dissent. We tread a tightrope, Cobra. Don't you see the danger in chasing such reckless dreams?"

Cobra, his own frustration rising, countered, "Danger or not, Father, the angels' grip tightens with each passing day. Their control is suffocating. Surely there's another way!"The tension stretched taut. Father and sons glared at each other, the weight of their choices hanging heavy in the air. Behind them, the castle loomed like a silent judge, its secrets simmering just beneath the surface. Finally, Troy broke the silence.

Very well," he said, his voice laced with a bitter resignation. "You've made your choice. But before you delve into this madness, there's