The fire went out, the camp disappeared, all that remained of their passage was a blackened earth that would soon disappear under the snow.
Abigail had returned to Lucifer's arms. Having learned from the first journey, she had bundled herself up in far more clothes, and unlike the day before, Leonard remained by their side, sighing at regular intervals and begging them to hurry. The fact that the journey between the train and Hell was taking them two days instead of two hours infuriated her. Lucifer tirelessly replied that he refused to expose Abigail to a stronger wind, which, with her face hidden in the crook of her bearer's arms, never failed to make her smile each time.
Many hours and a meal break later; they finally seemed to close on their destination. Having stopped on a rocky outcrop, Lucifer and Leonard were talking in hushed tones, just a few meters from where Abigail let her legs dangle over the edge. In the middle of winter, the season was in full swing in Siberia, so much so that it had blanketed the taiga in snow.
Surprisingly, the blizzard seemed to have spared a large area below, so large that Abigail could only make out a portion of it. This portion, just as strangely, seemed to follow a perfect curve, as if the snow dared not cross an invisible boundary.
Had Lucifer seen it? Was this what he'd been talking about with Leonard? The question intrigued her so much that she finally turned around, ready to ask the Devil. Devil, who was suddenly beside her, startling Abigail. More out of reflex than necessity, she grabbed Lucifer's arm for fear of falling, but quickly let go, reassessing the danger.
While he didn't seem to hold it against her, he appeared far more annoyed by Abigail's question and cast a worried glance at his General, whom assured him that the spell was clearly still active. Lucifer then turned back to her, and Abigail felt a painful unease, aware that she wasn't seeing the same thing as the Fallen. Her voice betrayed her apprehension and even broke when she asked Lucifer for confirmation. He then gently took her arm and promised that everything was fine, that she had nothing to fear; he revealed that instead of what she was seeing, everyone else was seeing nothing but an intense snowstorm. As Leonard had theorized after their meeting on the train, Abigail seemed unaffected by magic. The witch objected, specifying that only illusion spells had been tested so far. Further studies and experiments would be necessary to quantify her resistance to magic— research she would gladly undertake, with the human's consent alone. Though the choice was hers, Abigail remained lost and turned to the Devil for advice. Lucifer could only assure her of his trust in Leonard but offer no help in her decision; however, it was an opportunity to learn more about her powers. Nevertheless, her decision would have to wait: they first had to go to Hell.
Reaching their destination took another long hour of flying before they landed a reasonable distance away. Abigail, unfortunately, could only take their word for it, blind to the phenomenon but fascinated by the boundary between white and green, a hundred meters or so away. Lucifer then explained that they had no choice but to continue on foot: the turbulent winds made any aerial approach impossible, and transporting her in those conditions would be more risky than it would save them time. Their harnesses rechecked, the group plunged into the storm.
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Still unable to grasp the situation, Abigail nevertheless watched piles of snow swirling in a wind she couldn't feel, her only difficulty being the struggle to advance through the thick layer of powder. Little by little, the grassy edge drew closer, a promise of relief.
Although she did not stop staring at it, Abigail felt a strange sensation as she set foot in Hell, as if she were entering forbidden territory. She finally grasped the full meaning of Lucifer's explanation: otherwise, she would have thought herself in a tundra oasis, a corner of paradise on Earth, rather than in Hell. The air was light, the temperature mild, and that wind she couldn’t see finally ceased its whistling, settling into a pleasant silence. In the distance, resting on the horizon, a pyramidal city stood, but before Abigail could even ask if this was Pandora, the Devil assured her that the Infernal capital was not yet visible, hidden behind the curvature of the Earth. He presented Irkalla to him, the only city in Hell to welcome demons, fallen, and mages in relative peace, and with a turbulent past, notably due to the laws imposing equality between peoples, enforced by Amun. No Infernal General other than himself was allowed within its walls, despite centuries of protests.
“There she is,” Leonard announced, a moment before a pentacle appeared in the air, producing a soft crackling sound as its lines emerged. Once complete, it opened to reveal a woman with a remarkably pale complexion, who immediately knelt before the Infernal General. The latter then introduced them to her second-in-command, a former Japanese shaman named Tejina.
With a commanding gesture, Leonard helped her subordinate to her feet and whispered her a few words. The witch nodded, bowed before Lucifer, and then departed through the portal that had brought her there, the spell vanishing behind her. Lucifer, inquiring about what had been said, didn't have time to hear her reply before a new portal appeared before them. At his companion's furrowed brow, the Devil materialized his trident and took up a defensive stance a few steps from the portal. A procession of six demons emerged from the luminous doorway under Abigail's fascinated gaze, each carrying a blanket on their shoulders. Clad in simple loincloths from waist to knee, their dusty, ash-grey skin revealed muscles and scars, one as prominent as the others. A chain encircled them by their throats but found its attachments in the long and pompous bed that the demons held on their shoulders.
On the purple satin mattress, wrapped in a long, shimmering cloth, a woman slumped over, watching them with amusement. Her array of gold jewelry clinked at her wrists and neck. She sat up and called to the trio, ordering them to approach. As Abigail prepared to take a step, Lucifer gestured to stop her, while he and Leonard remained unmoved by the newcomer's commands. The demon's face twisted with anger, and with a click of her tongue, she ordered her entourage to approach.
Dominating them both with her vain gaze and from the heights of her bed, the woman straightened her headdress, which had been knocked out of alignment by the jolts of her bearers' steps and her own weight, and with another click of her tongue, immobilized the convoy.
"Lord Beelzebub has summoned you to his palace. You are requested to follow me." she said dismissively.
"Do you know nothing of the hierarchy, demon? No one summons Lucifer!" Leonard glared at her.
"I am Sitri, First Order Demon Princess, messenger of Lord Beelzebub! I will not tolerate you speaking to me in that tone!" exclaimed their interlocutor.
