Devil Slave (Satan system)-Chapter 1388: Gabriel Wants To Talk

Father Black moved again.

He crossed the chamber and activated another array of contraptions embedded into the wall. Plates shifted. Runes realigned. With a smooth, almost wet sound, a sleek black box slid forward and opened.

Inside rested a syringe.

It was massive—far larger than anything meant for a normal body. The barrel was etched with infernal circuitry, and inside sloshed a golden liquid, thick and luminous, like condensed sunlight mixed with molten mana.

Athena’s brow furrowed.

"What is that?"

Father Black did not look away from the syringe as he answered.

"A specially engineered adrenaline," he said calmly. "In the body of a mortal man, it could make him fight a war for an entire month without sleep, food, or rest."

He paused.

"After that... the body collapses. Death is guaranteed."

Athena stiffened.

"For beings like us," he continued, "it forces the heart to push beyond its natural limits. More magic. More output. More will. It’s an emergency key—meant only for moments when survival demands sacrifice."

Athena’s gaze snapped to the capsule.

"But her... Nikky is human."

Father Black nodded once.

"That is why," he said quietly, "if this does not work... she will never see the light of day again."

Silence filled the chamber.

"And that," he added, lifting the syringe, "is why it can only be used once."

He stepped to the capsule.

Without hesitation, he placed the needle against Nikky’s neck and pressed.

The golden liquid surged into her veins.

Her body arched violently.

Her eyes shot open as she convulsed, coughing hard—once, twice—again and again, as if trying to vomit her lungs out. Thick fluid spilled from her mouth as her chest heaved in frantic spasms.

Athena tensed, ready to intervene.

Then—gradually—the coughing slowed.

Nikky gasped, dragging in air like someone drowning who had just broken the surface.

Her eyes darted wildly.

Confusion.

Disorientation.

Fifty years of absence pressed into a single breath.

Yet beneath it all, her incredible sharpness remained.

Her gaze swept the room with startling speed, cataloging the runes, the beasts, the chamber... and then it locked onto Father Black.

She tried to speak.

More fluid spilled from her lips instead.

Father Black placed a steady hand on her shoulder.

"I know," he said gently. "I know what you want to say."

He waited until her breathing steadied.

"I have good news," he continued, "and bad news."

Her eyes fixed on him, unblinking.

"But first," he said, straightening, his voice taking on formal weight, "as Regent of the Lenny Royal Family on Earth... and as a member of the Hell Royal Family..."

He met her gaze.

"I ask you this: will you accept the invitation to become a member of the Hell Royal Family?"

Nikky froze.

Shock rippled across her face.

Worry flickered in her eyes—fear, uncertainty, the weight of something irrevocable.

Father Black saw it and added quickly, softer now:

"Don’t worry. Lenny is still our king."

Her eyes brightened instantly.

Relief. Hope.

With immense effort, words scraped past her throat.

"...Yes."

The sound was barely audible.

That was enough.

Father Black placed his hand fully on her shoulder.

The newly formed Hell Family sigil on his chest ignited.

The mark glowed red-hot.

Pain lanced through him as he became a living conduit—bolts of infernal energy ripping through his body and surging into Nikky’s.

She screamed.

The sigil burned itself onto her flesh, power rewriting blood, soul, and destiny in a single, violent instant.

The chamber shook.

The hounds howled.

And Hell welcomed its newest royal.

Meanwhile, far beyond the reach of mortals, their fears and even their prayer,

Lucifer Morningstar lounged upon his golden throne in the cold vastness of space.

One leg rested over the armrest, his posture relaxed to the point of arrogance, as though the fate of worlds below was nothing more than idle entertainment. His six pairs of wings folded and unfurled slowly behind him, feathers glinting like blades of light in the void.

Seraphina stood at his side, hands folded, gaze fixed on the distant blue sphere of the Eighth Earth.

For beings of their caliber, one human week was nothing.

A blink.

A breath.

A pause between thoughts. They could even wait more than that, but at the time, the goal was to ensure that the human Regent did not have the pleasure to think, and at the same time, secure his treasure before heaven came.

Seraphina leaned closer and whispered, careful not to disturb his calm.

"Do you believe the Regent of Earth will sign the contract, my lord?"

Lucifer chuckled softly, the sound carrying a dangerous amusement.

"There is no belief required," he replied lazily. "There is no other choice."

His eyes remained on Earth as he spoke, pupils glowing faintly, as though already imagining its fall.

At that moment, a shadow crossed the stars.

A Fallen Angel descended swiftly and dropped to one knee before the throne, head bowed low, wings folded in strict discipline.

"My lord," the angel said, voice steady. "Archangel Gabriel has arrived... and requests a conversation."

Lucifer’s smile deepened.

That...

That was interesting.

For two reasons.

Firstly, Gabriel had not spoken to him in hundreds of thousands of years. They were not allies. They were not enemies who exchanged words. They were principles in opposition, and Gabriel was not one to lower himself into dialogue without cause.

Secondly, and more importantly,

Gabriel had not sent a message through the minds.

He had sent a messenger.

An official envoy.

That alone meant this was not a personal whim, but a matter of Heaven’s formal will.

Lucifer’s fingers tapped once against the arm of his throne.

Curiosity flickered in his eyes.

Gabriel never acted without reason. Never spoke without calculation. Never moved unless every path ahead had already been weighed.

Slowly, Lucifer lifted a hand and waved it dismissively.

"Allow him entry," he said. "I will hear what my dear brother’s voicepiece has to say."

The Fallen Angel bowed deeper and vanished into the void to deliver the command.

Seraphina frowned slightly, sensing the shift.

Lucifer leaned back, his smile sharpening into something predatory.

"Well then," he murmured.

"Let us see what Heaven wants from me... now."