When one empire falls, another rises to take its place. Emlyn had learned that first hand many times over, and this time had been no different. The only true difference was that he had no need to veil the shifts of power behind an unfortunate ‘death’ and an unknown arrival of an heir. When the world burned and what few souls were allowed into heaven, Emlyn waited within the ashes for it all to pass and then rose up. It took time, and tactics so brutish it reminded him of his first start-up centuries before the collapse of it all, but Emlyn formed himself a base once more. Hell came with too many strings, and he felt he had no soul for heaven to redeem. One of the new kingdoms of Man, if he could be called such, began to grow under his feet. The weak and delusional flocked to him as if he was a god. The more intelligent entities made public to the world came to him for sanctuary from the allegiances that forever tried to be pressed upon them. Though not intentional, a cult even formed around him. Creation was its aim, but a creation that was twisted and unnatural. It stayed just shy of being a mockery of his being, and at times it was honestly entertaining to the artificial human.<br/><br/>His knowledge of the world before gave him a commanding lead over the other ‘kingdoms’ and organizations of man and beast that sprang up in the world. His cult was blessed with this knowledge and a veritable fortress was given to them. Granted, the ancient bunker and the fortified walls needed work at first, but once repaired, even they expanded. Constructed tunnels served as highways, while newer tunnels served as streets under his rule, while the above was ringed into stable houses surrounded by shacks and tents. All of it was surrounded by high walls of steel. In the heart of it all was his tower. An old building the people before called a skyscraper now stood fortified with stone, metal, and foul magics. Entry could not be found above, and the bottom of the building dangled into a cavern that was formerly partially a hanger within the bunker. One of his thrones sat there, where he may lord over trivial ceremonies and fights of entertainment. But the lord was not in his throne. No, he could not be present for the madmen’s preparation for diluted attempts at favor. Granted, the rituals he carefully researched and gave to them were ones to give him strength, but all else that was blattered on was carefully and subtly established by the upper echelon of his society, so that they may benefit to some degree and continue the guise of miracles. Instead, Emlyn waited behind a veiled curtain, a room separated from the balcony throne, being served on hand and foot by humans. They were silent unless their task required them to sing or speak, all seemingly happy at their work. Whether that happiness came from contentment or from lack of a better source of it remained to be seen.<br/><br/><hr class="bbc-hr"/><br/>The little cogs that had found the intruder wanted nothing more than a sample before the girl was shuffled off to whatever fate awaited her. They were accustomed to the practice of a human or lower level devil slipping free and attempting to flee, and their foul needs sated before a more commanding presence claimed the capture and placed them in the correct category. The turn of events with this lost soul however sent shivers throughout the complex. The release of such divine energy was hard to keep contained once it was let free. As for those who were with the infiltrated angel, it only spurred the imp ranked demons onward while the humans froze in awe and fear for moments. The handful around Celeste soon multiplied as more of the same flowed out. The humans who had fallen stood and joined. A plethora of hands reached and clawed, pinning and tearing away at clothing and breaking skin.<br/><br/>Some were already preparing themselves, clawing away at both their own clothing as well as Celeste’s own, both eager for the taste and feeling and fearful that her presence would summon something more than their own before such an action could be done. For Celeste, it was her own accident that saved her from that future. The smell of fire and brimstone flooded the corridor she was cornered in and immediately some of the outer grouping fled. The subtle and practiced steps of a being stepped out of smoke down the hall. It was a true devil coming forth, flanked by skirmisher ranked demonic entities obviously subordinate to it. It was humanoid in appearance. Devilishly handsome features on its face. Its clothing were fineries of an age from far before the collapse, with frills and a long coat trailing behind it. Behind it to either side were cruel mockeries of angels, with shocks or red hair and chiseled features of a twisted and feral beauty. Warriors to the core, with black feathered wings curled against their frame, hiding all but the hilt of swords on their backs.<br/><br/>The true devil crossed its arms across its exposed red vest and immediately its two soldiers shot forward, diving into the crowd. Either by force of will or physical prowess, the two barreled through until they reached Celeste and commandeered the pinning of the angel from the filth assaulting her. But they were no saviors. They were simply protecting the latest and most valuable prisoner that entered the halls. As the true devil stood forth, the crowd began to thin, either fleeing from the overwhelming presence of the entity, or quite literally collapsing in front of it unconscious. Eventually it came to stand over Celeste as its bodyguards growled and gripped Celeste’s flesh tighter. The being simply leaned down to stare Celeste in the face, a wicked grin on his otherwise striking features.<b><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#808080">“I see you’ve chosen a new cage for yourself, little bird,”</span></b>it said, the masculine voice otherworldly and smooth.<br/><br/>And without a word, one of those pinning her down grabbed a fistful of her locks and slammed her head into the concrete. What came next was a whirlwind of movement as the trio brought their captive rapidly through the many halls and tunnels of the bunker, working their way to the most convenient place to both present their catch as well as to put Emlyn on his toes: the hanger. Celeste’s angelic wings were pushed forward, pinning them between her own body and the bodies of the two soldiers. The soldiers pressed close, both with an arm in hand and seemingly simply gritting and bearing through the sharp angelic wings, as they drug the captive behind the true devil into the massive chamber already filling with people for this ritual. The true devil’s voice rang out, much too loud for the frame it escaped from.<b><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#808080">“Lord Emlyn, I believe you would like to see this,”</span></b>it said, beginning to float up, flying without aid. The soldiers followed, their black feathered wings beating heavily as they kept Celeste aloft between them. The four of them stopped part way up, stopping a respectable and appropriate distance away from the throne.<br/><br/><hr class="bbc-hr"/><br/>The unearthly baritone filled the chamber which Emlyn sat in. The voice was one familiar to him, and before long, the smells of brimstone, sage, and burning wood began to fill the room as more beings apparated on the other side of the curtain form him. Whatever had occurred had summoned many of his upper echelon to him. There was silence for a moment in the room as all of the servants stopped what they were doing. Only two sounds could be heard: the sound of murmuring from below, and the faint, methodical, and measured ticking that resonated from within Emlyn’s chest. With a slight sigh, Emlyn arose from his place, servants quickly standing back and bowing to him as he strolled out of the chamber. Barely looking, he pointed to two individuals out of the half dozen that had gathered on the other side of the curtain: One a woman with raven black hair and eyes a pure and clear white, and man who’s head was bald and had reptilian eyes. The two stepped in behind Emlyn and followed him out onto the balcony, where they hovered just out of sight behind his throne, silent guardians in case of the worst.<br/><br/>Emlyn sat down into his throne and stared down his nose and across the air at the true devil who had summoned him out too early for the proceedings planned. But what quickly caught his eye was the divine glow emanating from between the true devil’s subordinates. The devil bowed deeply and with flair, head tilting up to look at Emlyn with a knowing and sly smile. “<b><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#808080">What I present to you is an intruder, my lord,” </span></b>the devil said.<b><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#808080">“One who wished to stay hidden in the bowels of this compound, but was discovered due to desire and provocation. What shall we do with this <i>angel</i> in our midst?”</span></b>