Darkness swallowed Sylphia whole.
It poured into her mouth, her eyes, her lungs—thick, suffocating, alive. She screamed until her throat tore raw, calling a name she hated herself for needing.
"Sammail—!"
No answer came.
Of course it didn't.
He was the reason she was suffering in the first place. Why would he save her?
The darkness collapsed inward.
And suddenly—
She was home.
Heaven.
Sylphia sat at a familiar table, light pouring gently through tall windows of pure white stone. Beside her sat her father.
Alive.
That alone should have shattered her.
But it didn't.
That's impossible.I was in the court—With… with who?
Her thoughts slipped through her fingers like water.
I don't remember.Was it all a nightmare?
It had to be.
"Sylphia," her father said softly. "What's wrong, love?"
The sound of his voice broke something inside her.
Her hands began to shake violently. Before she could think, she lunged toward him, wrapping her arms around his chest, clinging like a child who'd fallen too far from home. Her breathing hitched, mucus and tears spilling freely, humiliating and real.
He smiled and returned the embrace.
"You must be missing her," he said gently. "As much as I do."
She froze.
Slowly, she pulled back, staring at him with confusion twisting her features.
"…Missing who?"
His expression hardened.
"Your mother," he snapped. "Who else would I mean?"
Her mind went blank.
My… mother?
Did I ever have one?
Why is he angry?So what if I forgot? She's dead. Am I supposed to cry forever?
Her eyes dulled.
A smile rose to her lips—practiced, false.
"Of course I remember," Sylphia lied smoothly. "I just didn't want to upset you."
Her father exhaled and slumped back into his chair.
"I'm sorry," he said. "It's just this war. It's madness. Would you even believe it? Sammail—the most graceful of archangels—now the Prince of Hell."
"Sammail…?"
The name slipped out unconsciously.
Her heart twisted—warmth and hatred colliding so violently it made her nauseous.
Her father's smile cracked.
The light in the room dimmed.
"You were thinking of your Sammail, weren't you?" he asked quietly. "The one who saved you from torture… just to torture you himself?"
Cold sweat slid down her spine.
"How do you know that?" she asked, forcing a laugh. "It was just a nightmare."
Her father laughed.
It was wrong—too loud, too sharp.
Darkness bled into the room, seeping from the corners like rot.
"Father?" she whispered. "What's happening? Why are you laughing?"
Behind her, something touched her back.
A hand.
Cold. Gentle. Possessive.
Sylphia screamed and collapsed to the floor.
"What is this?" she cried. "Who are you? Where is my father?"
He didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Only watched her tremble.
"You already know," a voice said—not his, yet wearing it perfectly. "Why pretend otherwise?"
"This isn't real," Sylphia sobbed. "It can't be."
"Why not?" her father asked calmly. "You accepted it moments ago."
"Because you're dead!" she screamed. "Because I was forsaken by Heaven and set up!"
His face cracked—thin fractures spreading across it like broken porcelain.
"Then why," he asked softly, "did you act so normal if you knew I was dead?"
Her voice faltered.
"…Because I missed you."
He laughed harder.
"Did you miss me," he asked, "or do you just feel guilty?"
"I didn't do anything!" she shouted.
The laughter stopped.
Darkness bled red and black.
A white butterfly drifted down and landed gently on his hand.
"So," he said quietly, "you feel no guilt for defiling my name as the Fourth Archangel, Gabriel?"
He stepped closer.
"For killing your mother?"
Her breath caught.
"For siding with the same entity that killed me?"
He crushed the butterfly.
It vanished—like it had never existed.
"Answer me," he roared, his face dissolving. "Who are you?"
The illusion collapsed.
The room shattered.
Before her stood a face made of nothing but darkness.
"I'm the one who killed your father," it said, smiling.
Laughter echoed—layered, endless.
The Dark God laughed.
And then—
The face became hers.
"Would you like to talk?" it asked.
Sylphia screamed as the darkness closed in, their laughter tearing reality apart.