The sound of the old glass door clicked open echoed through the still night as Azreal and his group stepped inside. The air inside the building was thick with dust, and a faint scent of old wood lingered in the air. Eric reached for the switch on the wall and flicked it. A dim light flickered to life, buzzing weakly before finally illuminating the space. The place looked like a run-down restaurant — a long counter stretched across the wall, with rusted shelves behind it. There were no tables, no chairs, just a few scattered crates and a broken ceiling fan that looked like it hadn't spun in years. Eric dusted his hands and turned to them. "Make yourself at home," he said casually, though even he knew how pathetic that sounded in a place . Lyra floated lazily in the air, arms crossed, her expression unimpressed. "Even hell was better than this," she muttered. Laisa's voice cracked as she rubbed her temples. "I can't believe we have to live here until the investigation is over." Azreal glanced around, calm as ever, before his eyes landed on Aria. "You don't seem disturbed by the place, Aria." Aria gave a faint smile, her tone soft but confident. "No. I'm already used to living in places ." Shot chuckled, stretching his arms behind his head. "That's great. We'll count on you to make us feel comfortable, then." Aria smiled again. "Of course. Looks like we've got a long stay ahead of us." Eric raised a hand to quiet them down. "Relax, this isn't where we'll be sleeping." Cain cocked his head, folding his arms. "Then where do we sleep?" Eric didn't answer right away. He walked behind the counter, his boots echoing faintly against the wooden floor. Without a word, he pressed his palm against a part of the wall — and with a low rumble, a section of it shifted open like a secret door. Laisa blinked in disbelief. "A hidden passage?" Aria smirked, her curiosity piqued. "There's always something interesting behind a hidden passage." Fredrick rubbed his chin as realization hit. "So this restaurant-like room is just a disguise… a front." Eric blew out a puff of smoke from his cigarette and gave a small grin. "Exactly. Finally, someone's catching on." He motioned them forward. "Come on." One by one, they followed Eric through the hidden doorway. The wall closed behind them with a soft click, sealing them away from the dull world above. They walked down a narrow staircase that curved gently underground. Then, as the final step gave way to a wider floor, their eyes widened. The sight before them was nothing short of stunning. A lavish living room spread out before them — soft golden light from chandeliers bathed the room in warmth. Polished floors gleamed, and plush sofas surrounded a large, elegant table at the center. There were paintings along the walls, a faint aroma of fresh wood polish in the air, and the distant hum of an unseen air conditioner. They froze, taking it all in. Eric exhaled smoke again and smirked. "Welcome to our new home." Laisa's jaw dropped slightly as she spun slowly in place. "You really outdid yourself, Eric." Eric shrugged with a faint smile. "I try." Cain stretched and grinned. "Perfect. I'm off to my room. I can pick whichever I like, right?" Eric shook his head. "The rooms are already assigned. You'll find your name on the doors. And… clothes have been placed in each wardrobe. I didn't know everyone's taste, so—deal with what's there." Cain chuckled. "Perfect enough for me." He turned and strolled off casually. Lyra yawned and floated lower. "I better get going too. I don't trust Cain when it comes to rooms." Aria chuckled. "Why's that?" Lyra shot her a mischievous look. "Back in the Crucible, Cain was supposed to live in the first layer, but he took Fredrick's spot in the third, claiming he 'preferred it.'" Aria looked at Fredrick, who only sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "He just didn't want to be in the first layer," Fredrick said before walking off. "Wait for me!" Lyra called after him. "Even you aren't to be trusted. Who knows, you might try to get revenge on Cain and steal my room while you're at it!" Fredrick didn't respond — he just waved her off as he kept walking. Lexi adjusted her glasses and pulled a large, metallic case closer to her. "It seems everyone's got their own room. Eric, I hope mine is large. I have to set up my lab." Eric nodded. "I made sure of that." "Good." Lexi smiled faintly. Hulk stepped forward, effortlessly lifting her heavy bag. "Let me help," Hulk said simply. "Thanks," Lexi replied, and they disappeared down the hallway together. Shot stretched his arms with a tired sigh. "Guess I'll crash too. Feels like it's been days since I slept." Eric nodded and followed behind him. Laisa turned to Azreal. "I'll go as well, my lord." Azreal gave a small nod. Aria also spoke up, "I feel tired too. I'll be in my room." The two women exchanged a sharp glare before turning away in opposite directions. Azreal let out a quiet sigh and sat down on one of the sofas. Jack stood behind him, ever the loyal attendant. "I'll prepare us some tea, my lord." Azreal raised an eyebrow. "Jack, we just got here. You think there's tea lying around?" Jack gave a confident smile. "I spoke with Eric before we left. The kitchen's stocked. I'll be back shortly." He turned and disappeared into one of the side halls. The room grew silent. Azreal leaned back, closing his eyes. Then, a familiar voice echoed softly in his mind — smooth and clear. "It seems you've arrived, my lord." Azreal didn't move, speaking only in thought. "Yes. We've arrived." "I saw the place," she said. "Eric has taste, I'll give him that." Azreal smiled faintly. "I guess the friends he mentioned really came through." "So that's why you trusted him with finding a place," she mused. "Exactly," Azreal replied. There was a pause. Then Sarah's tone shifted, curious. "Now that you're settled… where do we start the investigation?" Azreal's eyes opened slowly. "Considering our next step, I still need to think. Let's settle in first, before we begin digging into the matter." "If you say so," Sarah said softly. Just then, footsteps echoed again — Jack's voice followed. "My lord, your tea." Azreal opened his eyes slowly as the warm scent of tea drifted through the air. The steam rose in soft curls, glinting faintly under the amber light of the room. Jack stood beside him, composed as ever, holding the tray steady as he gently placed the cup before his lord. Azreal took it without a word, the ceramic warm against his fingers. He raised it to his lips and sipped slowly, the taste mild but grounding. The silence between them was calm yet heavy — the kind of silence only two men who had seen far too much could share. Jack finally sat opposite him, lifting his own cup. His gaze was steady, his voice smooth and respectful. "My lord," he began quietly, "about Aria…" Azreal didn't look up immediately. He swirled the tea once, watching the ripples fade. "What about Aria?" he asked, his tone unreadable. Jack leaned back slightly, his expression thoughtful. "I don't quite understand her place among us. She's a human, isn't she? Shouldn't she be serving punishment at the Gate of Hell? She wasn't assigned any position down there — not one that I know of." Azreal exhaled softly through his nose, setting the cup down on the table with a quiet clink. "You're right. She doesn't hold a position in Hell," he said evenly. "But she also doesn't belong there." Jack's brows furrowed. "Meaning?" "Damantia weighed her sin," Azreal continued, his tone steady, his eyes half-closed as if recalling the memory. "Her sin value was low. Too low for Hell. Yet… for some reason, she was still sent there." Jack tilted his head slightly, absorbing the information. "I see. But then, how does she fit into the mission? She's not a soldier or an enforcer. If she's human, then what use—" "She awakened her flames," Azreal interrupted calmly, lifting his gaze at last. "That alone is reason enough." Jack's composure barely shifted, but the faint flicker in his eyes showed his surprise. "Her flames…" he repeated slowly, then smiled faintly. "I knew she was different from the moment I saw her." Azreal smirked faintly. "Was it your instincts?" "You could call it that," Jack said, sipping his tea again. "Then your instincts were right on cue." Jack nodded. "If she awakened her flames despite being human, she's… unique. Did she evolve while in Hell?" "I wish I could say the same," Azreal murmured, leaning back. "But no. Her power doesn't come from Hell's flames. She bears the Mark of the Gods… and she's the vessel of the Nine-Tailed Fox, Yuzara. That's where her power lies." Jack's calm expression turned grimly intrigued. "A vessel of a divine beast," he said under his breath. "So, she carries the mark of the Gods yet was still cast into Hell. It seems… even the Gods aren't above making mistakes." Azreal chuckled faintly, though there was no humor in it. "Yeah," he murmured. "Seems that way." Jack rose smoothly, collecting the empty cup from his lord. "Then I'll take my leave for now, my lord," he said quietly, bowing slightly before heading out. Azreal watched him go before standing himself. The room had gone still again, the faint hum of night filling the silence. He made his way down the hallway, his footsteps soft against the polished floor. The walls were lined with doors, each one marked neatly with a name. He stopped at the very end of the corridor — his door. His name was engraved on a small brass plate, subtly gleaming under the hallway light. He opened the door and stepped inside. The room was quiet, spacious, and warmly lit. A king-sized bed rested against the far wall, the sheets perfectly arranged. The wardrobe stood open slightly, revealing neatly folded clothes inside. Azreal ran a hand across the wood and gave a faint smile. "Sarah was right," he murmured. "Eric really outdid himself." He removed his coat and placed it neatly on a chair before sitting on the edge of the bed. For a moment, he stared at the ceiling — lost in thought. "I have no idea what will happen tomorrow," he whispered to himself. "But we'll be ready… whatever comes." He exhaled, letting the quiet of the room settle around him. The moonlight poured through the small window, painting silver streaks across the walls. Aria sat silently on her bed, her eyes dim, her hands trembling slightly in her lap. The faint hum of the city outside only made the stillness in her room feel heavier. She opened her palm slowly, the faint scar of the mark glowing dimly. She focused — trying to summon her flames, to feel even a spark of warmth. For a second, the mark flickered weakly, like a dying ember struggling for air. Her breath hitched. She stared at her hand, the cold moonlight washing over her face as confusion and dread twisted in her chest. "What's… going on?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "My flames… they're gone." Her fingers curled into a fist as she lowered her hand, her gaze fixed on the moon outside — its light distant, cold, and unreachable. And in that silent, moonlit room, Aria's heart sank with a fear she couldn't explain — the fear that something inside her had just… vanished. The most update n0vels are published on 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡⚫𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢⚫𝘯𝘦𝘵