The maintenance tunnel stretched before Samael, its darkness no impediment to his supernatural sight.
Ancient pipes lined the walls, their rust-eaten surfaces telling tales of decades of neglect.
But it wasn't the physical decay that interested him - it was the otherworldly residue that clung to everything like black tar.
Dark magic. Old magic. The kind that left scars on the world itself.
The tunnel opened into a larger chamber, its walls covered in symbols that would drive most mortals mad. At the center stood a crude altar, its surface stained with what was unmistakably blood.
"How... quaint," Samael murmured, approaching the altar. The dark magic here was practically tangible, coiling through the air like living smoke. He reached out, his fingers brushing against the ethereal strands.
Then he grabbed hold and pulled.
The effect was immediate. The magical residue solidified in his grip, and with it came a high-pitched squeal from somewhere... else. Samael yanked harder, and reality tore open with a sound like breaking glass.
A small, grotesque figure tumbled through, landing face-first with a squawk. The imp - for that's what it was - scrambled backward on all fours, its red eyes bulging as it caught Samael's scent.
"Shit, shit, shit," it squeaked, voice like nails on slate. "Fuckin' hell- Ya smell wrong! Ya ain't supposed ta smell like that! Heaven and Hell both!"
"Fascinating," Samael replied pleasantly, though his eyes held no warmth. "You have a name, little demon?"
The imp twitched spasmodically. "N-Ni, big scary sir. Work for Belial, I do. Just a nobody, just a-"
"Belial?" The name was familiar from his previous life's knowledge of DC comics, though he had no idea of the demon lord's current status. "Tell me about your master."
Ni flinched violently, pulling at its ears. "Boss got problems! Big problems! Lucifer made him nothing! Now boss wants the Bat-god's power-" The imp slapped its hands over its mouth, realizing it had said too much.
"The Bat-god?" Samael's interest sharpened. Barbatos - this could be useful. "Your master seeks Barbatos's power?"
"Aw fuck," Ni whimpered. "Boss's gonna skin me alive, gonna feed my guts to the hellhounds-"
"Focus," Samael commanded, taking a step closer. His grace flared slightly, making the imp screech and try to burrow into the ground. "Tell me more about this plan."
"Boss wants power back!" Ni blurted, words tumbling out in panic. "Found somethin' here - bat-god juice! Thinks it'll make him strong again!"
"Is that so?" Samael mused, filing away this information. "And what exactly does this... juice do?"
"Makes things wrong! Makes them strong! Boss says it's old power, from before-" Ni clamped its mouth shut again, shaking.
"Before what?"
"Can't say! Boss'll kill Ni!"
Samael smiled, and for a moment, his true form flickered through his human vessel - just enough to make the imp void whatever passed for its bowels.
"And what do you think I'll do?"
The imp writhed in terror, caught between two terrifying choices. "Before... before the city! When the bat-thing slept here! Boss says the power's still here, in the ground, in the dark!"
Samael's eyes gleamed with interest. This aligned with what he remembered about Gotham's history from his previous life's knowledge, but hearing current confirmation was valuable.
"And where exactly is your master looking for this power?"
"Deep! Real deep!" Ni squealed. "Under old parts! Where the first families built their-" The imp suddenly convulsed, black smoke leaking from its eyes. "Can't! Can't say more! Boss's bindings won't let-"
"Interesting," Samael murmured. He reached out with his grace, examining the magical bindings that constrained the imp. Complex work - this Belial might be diminished, but he still knew his craft.
"Please!" Ni groveled, pressing its face to the ground. "Ni told lots! Ni be good! Don't unmake Ni!"
"Actually," Samael said, his voice deceptively soft, "you've given me a better idea."
Before the imp could react, Samael's hand shot out, gripping its head. With a casual twist, he separated it from the body. Black black blood sprayed across the altar as the imp's form convulsed.
"Nothing personal," he murmured, letting the body drop. "Just business."
He held the severed head up, examining the still-twitching features. The binding magic that connected the imp to its master pulsed visibly to his sight. Perfect.
Samael placed the head on the altar, then began to channel his grace through the connection.
The blood began to smoke, then burn with hellfire. Reality warped, and suddenly, a figure materialized before him - translucent, like a projection, but very much aware.
Belial appeared as a tall, aristocratic being, though his form flickered between human and something far more... monsterous. His eyes widened as he took in what was happening.
"Well," Samael said pleasantly, "now that I have your attention..."
He reached out and grabbed the manifestation by the throat. Though not physically present, Belial gasped in pain - whatever happened to this projection would reflect on his real form.
"Interesting trick," Belial managed, his voice strained but still maintaining a veneer of composure. "But who-"
"I have questions," Samael interrupted. "About vessels. About certain... special humans. Cain, for instance. Abel."
Belial's eyes narrowed, studying Samael more carefully now. Then, despite the crushing grip on his throat, he began to laugh. For he was still one of the great demons, one of the knowledgeable ones no less.
"Oh, this is rich," he wheezed. "I see it now. The divinity, that particular blend of the heavenly and infernal..." His smile turned cruel.
"Has The Father made Himself a new Son? With the Lightbringer's essence, no less? How... precious. Tell me, are you meant to be Lucifer's replacement?"
Samael's grip tightened, making Belial choke, uncaring towards the taunts. "You talk too much."
"Hit a nerve, did I?" Belial's eyes gleamed with malicious amusement. "Does it bother you, knowing you're just a replacement? A backup plan?"
"The vessels," Samael pressed, ignoring the taunt. "What do you know?"
Belial's laughter subsided into a knowing smirk. "Ah yes, vessels. Cain and Abel - the first murderer and his victim. Perfect vessels for beings of power... though neither can be of use to your purposes.
Cain's body is untouchabel thanks to the Mark protecting him from all harm as he wanders realities, to which even I don't know where he is and Abel..." He shrugged.
"Well, being dead doesn't help his candidacy. Especially with him being up, don't know if you have reach there young Daystar."
The information was useless - nothing Samael could use. He prepared to - without dignifying Belial with an answer - to end the manifestation when Belial's expression shifted to something more calculating.
"However," the demon lord said carefully, "I might have something else of interest to you."
"Oh?" Samael's grip remained firm but he allowed curiosity to color his tone.
"I was there, you see," Belial's eyes took on a distant look. "Before Aztar regained his... grace. The fallen archangel of justice, returning to God's fold. Quite the sight."
Samael's interest sharpened. The Spectre- The archangel who fell but returned? That could be useful information.
"I have knowledge," Belial continued, "that might help with your... vessel problem. No guarantees, mind you, but it's more than you have now."
"And the price?"
"Simple. One favor. If - and only if - my life is truly in danger, you come to my aid. Once. No more, no less."
Samael studied the demon lord carefully. "That's a rather... specific request."
"Let's just say I've learned to be precise with my deals," Belial smiled thinly. "Well?"
Samael considered. The information might be worthless, but a single rescue... that was a small price to pay for even a chance at strengthening his vessel.
"Deal," he said. "Now talk."
"I have... heard about how he did it. Something about gaining audience with The Presence Himself."
Samael's grip loosened slightly, allowing Belial to continue.
"Aztar found a way to force God's attention," Belial said. "Made Him take notice. There are ways, you see - the death of a god, perhaps.
Or the salvation of a billion damned souls. Even the corruption of one of the Host." His eyes glittered. "Force an audience, as Aztar did, though the exact method he used... well, that remains unknown."
Samael processed this information, his expression growing colder with each word. "This... this is what you offer in exchange for saving your life? This useless bit of knowledge"
"A deal's a deal," Belial shrugged, smirking. "That's what you get for bargaining with a demon."
"Yes," Samael's voice was soft, terrifyingly gentle. "I suppose it is."
His hand plunged into Belial's manifestation, ripping out the demon lord's heart. The ethereal organ materialized in his grip, connected to Belial's real form across the planes of existence.
"What-" Belial gasped, his manifestation flickering violently.
"The deal," Samael said pleasantly, "was that I would save your life if you called for my aid. Well..." He squeezed the heart slightly, making Belial convulse in agony. "Now would be an excellent time to call for help, wouldn't you agree?"
"You dare-" Belial snarled, but another squeeze cut him off, not having realised that the connection was this strong, to actually be able to threaten his life.
"Ask nicely," Samael's smile was terrible to behold. "And I'll return this. Otherwise..." His grip tightened again.
Belial's face contorted with fury and humiliation. "Please," he spat. "Save me."
"There, was that so hard?" Samael released the heart, letting it fade back to Belial's true form. "Deal completed."
The magical connection began to break down, Belial's form dissolving, the spell no longer able to be sustained. "You'll pay for this," he snarled. "I swear by the Pit-"
"Take better care with your deals next time," Samael replied mildly. "And do give my regards to Lucifer, should you see him."
The manifestation collapsed, leaving Samael alone in the chamber. He looked at his blood-stained hand with distaste, then cleaned it with a thought.
Useless information, but at least the night hadn't been completely wasted. He'd learned something valuable: Fallen angels could return to grace... if they caught God's attention.
He just needed a better way than Belial's suggestions. Something... unique.
His phone buzzed - almost dawn. Time to return before Cassandra woke.
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(Author note: Hello everyone, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter!
Do tell me how you found it.
I hope this didn't feel too fast paced, and that having Belial be involved here not weird or out of character for him, since from what I remember, Lucifer always played games with him.
Let him "beat" him, and be imprisoned by him, till he got bored of Belial's schemes and actions and just humiliated him by breaking down all he did, and for thinking he could usurp him.
So, a weakened Belial seeking the power of Barbatos, the creation of a son of Perpetua, seemed fitting.
Well, I hope to see you all later,
Bye!)