The sewers of La Vista was ranged in a complex fashion under the city. The empty spaces were either long forgotten or used by the homeless as a home away from the sudden public eye.

A man watched above him the footsteps of civilians unbeknownst of the world under the city. His face showed an expression of disgust and a lack of concern for the people above him.

“Pitiful creatures,” The man said to himself, “Nothing, but dogs looking to be put down.”

A younger man appeared behind him cloaked in coat and a scarf around his neck. His face showed an expression of arrogance and his hair slicked back in a fine fashion. Although, he was dressed in the nines, he didn’t seem to mind being in a sewer.

“Dad,” The young man smirked, “I didn’t think you would be coming up here anytime soon.”

“They killed Till,” The man said, “So now I have two failures and not a single result.”

“He’s been a handful.”

The man turned with blinding speed and grasped his son by the throat, slamming him against the wall.

“I think you’ve been stuck in that barn far too long, Zare,” The man known as Valac gritted his teeth, “You fail to realize that we need him dead to achieve the next step.”

“What’s so important about him?” Zare coughed, “He’s just some mortal punk.”

“He has something that no one will ever be able to replicate. Beings of different castes would die for that kind of power,” Valac sighed, “I wish it was easier to explain.”

“What do I do about his friends?”

“They aren’t much of a threat,” Valac’s tone grew deeper, “But the girl may be of some use to us. I already planted that seed.”

“I’ll gather some assistance,” Zare retreated into the shadows, “I won’t fail again.”

“You better not or you can forget about returning.” Valac immolated himself until he disappeared from the sewer. He traveled into a tunnel of fire with speed faster than Mach Five. The flames quickly grew colder and colder as he reached the entrance to the desolate land below.

Valac landed onto the icy ground below him—he reached Hell, his home. The air was dead with only the chill filling the atmosphere. There was no fire, no screaming, and no punishment, it was just them. They were generals and rulers of nothing, but the frost below their feet.

“Valac,” A snarl called onto him, “Where have you been, brother?”

“Eveo,” He said calmly, “I’ve gone to visit some family.”

“Ah yes,” Eveo laughed, “So, has my nephew survived the farming?”

“He’s still alive,” Valac said, “And he brought friends.”

“Does the lord know?” Eveo’s laugh halted as quickly as it emerged.

“No, and I plan to keep it that way.”

“I hope you have this under control,” Eveo whispered, “He’s been asking questions about your disappearances and it’s only a matter of time he finds out.”

“Trust me on this, brother,” Valac assured him, “As long as Zare handles the Exorcist, we’ll be in the clear.”

The brothers walked their separate paths and tried not draw eyes to them as they made their exits. They were intent on achieving the coup successfully and it fell on Zare’s shoulders. The pressure was at its highest since they needed to send aid to Zare through cautious means—hoping not draw attention to their plans until Kayden’s death was confirmed. Although, the latter seemed impossible, his power was unmatched to those of Hell’s generals.

Valac looked across the icy ground and saw the caverns of the dark lord’s “kingdom”, which looked more prison than a home. The demons would pass the time with small wagers of whether they would survive a twenty­foot fall or if their teeth could grow back. Hell was as empty as the Devil’s promises and this made his most fearsome general angry. Nothing made sense to him and the moment they saw Kayden find his way into the gates of the underworld—it all made sense. The Devil knew something was off about the intruder, but chose to ignore it for his own safety. He didn’t want to fight mere mortals nor did he ask his forces to stoop to that level.

Valac and Eveo’s patience grew tiny and hotter as they watched their king become a parody of his past self. Desperation oozed out of their skulls and pores whenever they came up with a new plan to conquer the earth.

The rising darkness was enough proof that he was ready to take over the throne of hell and reign chaos throughout all planes of existence. The Hell Walker may have dampened his plans, but the shadows are still consuming the world by the day like a disease without a cure.

Nothing was going to stop him, not even the ruined king.