"—ARRRGRGRHHHHAAHAHAH!" The Dream of Madness released a psychic scream so violent that it nearly blacked out the defenders. Vlad clutched his head, blood dripping from his nose. Hajack staggered, his abyssal flames sputtering. Even Orous stumbled in the sky. Only Metatron remained standing, showing the immense might of his soul and body. Yet this was no blessing. His strength, his refusal to yield, marked him as the perfect target for the entity’s hunger. The Dream of Madness lunged forward, its gargantuan body straining toward the exit of the tomb. Hunger radiated from every inch of its existence—raw, absolute, eternal hunger. Metatron trembled as he realized that he was the target. If this thing escaped, he would be the first devoured. He could not remember a moment in all his immortal existence when terror had gripped him so utterly. Yet fear did not paralyze him. On the contrary, it awakened something primal—his will to survive. With a roar, Metatron ignited his life force. His aura blazed like a burning star, brighter than it had ever shone before. Above him, a single golden portal tore open, vast and trembling. From it emerged a spear no longer than three meters, plain and almost disappointing in appearance. Its shaft was worn, its blade dulled, its tip corroded with reddish rust. But the moment it appeared, the dimension quaked. "Longinus Spear!" Metatron bellowed, his voice cracking with equal parts desperation and fury. The weapon hurtled forward, streaking across the void. The rust upon its tip began to glow, slowly at first, then with blinding brilliance, revealing its true nature. That rust was not decay—it was blood. Ancient blood, older than angels, older than Heaven’s throne. The aura it carried was unbearable, but the Dream of Madness did not hesitate. It pressed forward, unyielding, and raised its massive claw. Its talons clenched, and it struck against the incoming spear with all the power of its eldritch might. "BOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!" The impact tore through the tomb. Reality itself screamed as the explosion devoured everything around it. The blast shook the dimension, then spread outward, rattling the citadel beyond, threatening to collapse the entire Sacred Dimension. When the light cleared, the results became clear. The Dream of Madness’s right claw was obliterated, its arm twisted, bent, broken. Its flesh writhed, refusing to die, yet clearly maimed. But the cost was terrible. The Longinus Spear, one of Heaven’s oldest and most sacred weapons, had shattered into fragments. Metatron screamed, blood streaming from his eyes as though his soul itself wept. The spear had demanded his life force as its catalyst, and now that it was destroyed, the backlash tore through his body. His wings shuddered, his frame staggered, but even through the pain his voice carried across the battlefield. "Close the damn gates—NOW!" Vlad, Hajack, and Orous reeled as clarity returned to them. The psychic scream still lingered in their skulls like echoes of madness, but they understood the Archangel’s urgency. Without hesitation, each hurled their strength into the massive gates of the tomb. Together they pushed. Heaven, Hell, Abyss, and True Deprivitas—forces that had never once cooperated—strained as one. The Dream of Madness shrieked, its body surging forward with incomprehensible speed. Tentacles whipped out, straining toward freedom. But the gates closed before it could reach them. The entity slammed against the sealed tomb. The force rattled through the dimension, and for a heartbeat it seemed the gates might shatter. But they held. The apocalypse made flesh was caged once more. Nᴇw ɴovel chaptᴇrs are published on 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝✶𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮✶𝓷𝓮𝓽 The world might never know that a True Depravita, an Archangel, a Demon Lord, and a Devil Lord had stood together to halt a monster of madness. If told to billions, not a single soul would believe such a tale. Yet it had happened. But even as the echoes of the Dream of Madness faded, a new threat emerged. Hajack’s body swelled, muscles surging with abyssal flame. His hatred burned hotter than ever, and with a roar he drove all his strength into his right fist. Before Metatron could even steady himself, still reeling from the backlash of the spear, Hajack struck. The blow landed with such force that the Archangel barely managed to fold his wings around himself. Flames engulfed him as his body was blasted through the ground, crashing into the earth in an explosion of light and fire. At the same moment, a tearing sound split the air. Vlad gasped, his eyes widening in shock. Orous’s fist—wreathed in golden flame—had pierced his chest. The Devil Lord’s hand burst through his heart, fingers curling with cruel precision. Vlad stared at him, disbelief painted across his features, as if he had never expected that Orous would have attacked him after fitting together. Orous’s expression was devoid of hesitation. If anything, it carried the faintest flicker of contempt. To him, betrayal was not betrayal at all, but inevitability. However, the shock of the True Depravita did bring some surprise to the Devil Lord. "How could someone so foolish ever rise to the throne of a Devil Lord?" The thought crossed his mind, but it did not distract him. His fist glowed brighter, golden fire surging as he unleashed an explosion of power. Vlad’s body was hurled into the air, a gaping hole where his heart had been. Blood trailed after him as his figure crashed across the dimension. "One down," Orous said coldly, his voice merciless as winter. Hajack turned, locking eyes with him. For a long heartbeat, the two Lords—Hell and Abyss—regarded one another. They were enemies, there was no doubt about that, and sooner or later they would fight to the death. But here, now, there was no choice. They nodded once, silently. Then, together, they turned their gaze toward the Archangel struggling to rise. Metatron’s body was broken, his aura unstable, his energy flickering. Yet even so, his wings still blazed with light. The might of Heaven still clung to him, burning defiantly against the fiends. If the Lords of Hell and Abyss wished to take his life, they would need one another.