I'm The Devil-Chapter 325: Furious Khaos

The stars trembled.

Planets cracked at the edges. Black holes flinched like they were alive. Somewhere in the depths of the first light, Khaos stood—alone—her long hair swirling like a living shadow, her eyes glowing with a white fury that cracked the very fabric around her.

She stood at the edge of everything.

The edge where space stopped making sense, where the last known coordinates of the Outer Void used to be. It looked calm now. Just sky. Just silence.

But Khaos could feel it. That was a lie.

"Come on…" she whispered.

Her hand was raised, fingers glowing with old power. Not magic. Not divine grace. Older than that. Older than time. The power of before-before. Of things not even the gods dared name.

She pulled it forward. Ripped it downward.

The fabric of space screamed.

For a second, a line appeared. A flicker. A breath.

Then it healed. Instantly. Like it had never been touched.

Khaos gritted her teeth. "Again."

She swung her arm—no, her will—down like a sword. Space buckled. Time folded in on itself. But nothing tore.

No crack.

No portal.

No sign of the Void.

Only silence.

She tried again.

And again.

And again.

Each attempt stronger. Harder. The sky above her twisted into spirals, nebulae breaking apart. Galaxies began to sway as if reality itself was starting to get motion sickness from her effort.

Still nothing.

She clenched both fists. The stars dimmed.

And then she screamed.

Not a normal scream.

A roar.

Like something ancient waking up angry.

It hit the Omniverse like a quake.

Entire planes of existence shook. The realm of the gods cracked. Titans fell to their knees. The wind in creation reversed for just a moment, and even the void on the other side—where Lucifer had vanished—twitched.

Somewhere in the under-realms, Nezha felt it. So did his wives. They all turned to the sky, wide-eyed.

Khaos wasn’t just angry.

She was breaking.

"No matter how strong I am… no matter how loud I call—why the hell can’t I reach you?!" Her voice cracked, not just from rage but something worse. Heartbreak.

She dropped to one knee, her energy spilling out of her like black fire. She pressed a palm to the ground, eyes flickering. "I know you’re alive, Lucifer. I know it."

She stood again.

Raised both arms.

And summoned everything.

The First Chaos. The thing before gods, before Balance, before even the idea of Light. It poured out of her body like an ocean without end. Black and silver and screaming.

She carved the air like a sculptor trying to claw a window into existence.

And again—nothing.

Just silence.

She stumbled back. Breath shallow. Eyes shaking. Her voice dropped to a whisper.

"I’m supposed to be the one no one can stop. The one even Death fears. And I can’t even reach my own husband…?"

Tears welled in her eyes. She never cried. Never. Not in the war of the thousand skies. Not when the old Man locked her in a prison for a billions of years. Not even when the gods feared her name.

But this—

This was different.

She wasn’t crying because he was gone.

She was crying because she couldn’t find him.

She looked up again. At the stars. At the sky that refused to tear open.

"Old man!" she shouted.

The heavens didn’t answer.

"Yeah, I’m talkin’ to you! You deaf or just ignoring me?! I know you’re watching!"

Still nothing.

Khaos floated upward. Higher. Until she stood in the middle of pure starlight, light bending around her from the force of her rage.

She pointed up.

"I swear—if you’re just sittin’ up there pretending this isn’t your problem, I will come up there and whoop your ass myself!"

The words echoed across dimensions.

Nothing answered.

Not thunder.

Not angels.

Just stillness.

Khaos dropped back down. Slow. Quiet. And for once… calm.

But that calm was dangerous.

The kind that made whole realms go extinct.

She hovered over the place where the last gate to the Outer Void once flickered.

"I’m not giving up," she whispered.

She extended her hand again. This time, not to tear. Just to feel.

"You’re in there, aren’t you?"

The void didn’t respond.

But something inside her chest throbbed. Faint. Distant.

A heartbeat?

No.

A link.

Faint.

Flickering.

Still alive.

Still there.

She closed her eyes, and a small smile curled her lips—just for a moment.

"You stubborn bastard… I knew you’d still be breathing."

Her hand clenched into a fist.

"If I can’t open the void… I’ll remake it."

She turned.

And vanished.

Back into the folds of existence. Back into the chaos she ruled.

Not to mourn.

But to prepare.

Because if the laws of reality said she couldn’t reach her husband?

Then the laws of reality had to go.

And if Heaven wasn’t going to help?

She’d burn her way up to the throne room herself.

Just to punch the old man in the face.

Outer Void.

Cold. Silent. Empty.

Lucifer sat alone in it.

Not on a throne. Not floating. Just sitting. Legs crossed. Arms resting on his knees. Like a man who’d been thinking too long. Too deep.

The Void didn’t move anymore. Not even the whispering stars. Not even the distant hums of dying realities.

Just stillness.

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His white hair hung loose. His coat was torn, burnt at the edges. His skin was cracked in places from the last battle—but he didn’t bleed. Not anymore. He just… stared. Into nothing.

It wasn’t rage in his eyes. Not even sadness.

Just tired.

He blinked. Once. Then spoke—voice low, but heavy.

"…Was it you?"

No one answered.

"Was it you, Raphael?" he said again.

Still nothing.

"Maybe not. You were always a coward. But Michael? You always looked me in the eyes when you stabbed me."

A faint scoff left his lips.

Then silence again.

Lucifer leaned back slowly, floating now, his body tilted toward the vastness.

"Or maybe it was Him. The old bastard. Wouldn’t be the first time he threw me away."

A crackling pulse of energy rippled from his chest. It faded into the void like a heartbeat swallowed by an ocean.

"Feels like it’s been years," he muttered. "Could be centuries. Hard to tell in here."

He stretched out one hand. Let his fingers flex. Then close into a fist.

"I gave everything. Burned the Outer Gods. Tore down the screaming stars. Closed every crack I could find. Cleaned up the mess He was too scared to touch."

His head dropped forward.

"And then the exit disappeared."

The Void shifted slightly. Like it was listening.

Lucifer narrowed his eyes.

"Somebody closed the door on purpose."

He said it like a fact. Like a man just accepting gravity.

His gaze drifted upward. Or… what felt like up.

"You locked me in here, didn’t you?" he whispered. "You watched me fight for you. And then threw me in your trash can."

A pause.

Lucifer clenched his jaw.

"I don’t care if it was the angels. Or the old man himself." He stood slowly. Shoulders back. Wings unfolding behind him—burnt and sharp like blades of obsidian.

"I’m not staying in here."

He looked to the horizonless dark.

"I felt her."

The faintest smile cracked his lips.

"Khaos."

His hand twitched. Not in surprise. In instinct. Like his body knew hers was close, even if the rules of reality said otherwise.

"She screamed loud enough to rattle this place…"

He closed his eyes. Listened. Not with ears. With whatever was left of his soul.

And there it was. Faint.

That pull. That invisible thread.

Still alive. Still tethered.

He opened his eyes. And for the first time in a long while, they weren’t empty.

"They’ll regret leaving me here."