Chương 92: Gods, Devils, and Revelations

Gremory entered the filthy tavern minutes after the god left. Stale, rudimentary alcohol permeated the air as her father studied the severed head of a tsuchigumo who rebelled against him. Her body shook and her tail stood rigid as she passed by an ornate lamp with a burning black flame.

"This was not what we discussed when you first gained access to this plane." She walked up to him and fleetingly ran her hand over the top rail of the chair that seated Jalen Nkanga, her claws digging into the wood. "You yielded to the god. You showed weakness. We had him right where we wanted."

Belial sank his fingertips into Jigoku Kumo's face, his gaze distant and his grip firm. "A serpent coiled around a tree doesn't attack the bird that lands on its branch. Not immediately. It waits, its tongue tasting the air, sensing the bird's breath, its every heartbeat. It allows the bird to believe it has the upper hand, that it can come and go as it pleases. And then…" His grip snapped close, crushing the head into bone fragments and brain matter. "The serpent strikes. Swiftly. Decisively." Her father turned to her, a chilling smile playing on his lips, as he rose to his feet and collected his bound great axe. "Patience, my dear." With the gesture of his hand, all black fires in the room fizzled out. "My flames had no effect on him. That means he is just as, if not more, powerful than me. His bottomless energy will be mine in due time. Then we will turn our sights on our true goal. So go forth, my daughter, and play your part."

❊ ❊ ❊

The sky had turned gray; the sun inching past the horizon to usher in a new age for the city and the country. The army of demons outlined behind him, Jalen headed toward a series of blockades on the outer reaches of Midtown. He scoffed when he saw their faces and determination as these mortal soldiers stood no chance against the many demons Belial had in his ranks. The archdevil's squad of tsuchigumos alone could cut through their ranks as if it were a groundskeeper tending to an overgrown lawn. Something had to change if they hoped to defend themselves.

Among the blockades, Jalen chose the most heavily fortified one that was sprung up before the bridge leading out of the district. He had spotted his sister, Mason, and most of The Radiant Assembly there.

On his approach, he locked eyes with Novaman, who floated at an altitude matching him, with arms folded and a steely expression upon his bearded face. The superhero's red and blue cloak fluttered wildly.

He dove under Novaman and landed before Mason and another man in military uniform. Based on the stranger's scrunched-up face and twitching lips, Jalen could tell his presence was not welcomed.

Still, he offered a sheet of paper to Mason. "It contains my agreement with Belial. Do well to convince your superiors to follow it."

Mason collected the list of terms he had negotiated with the archdevil without a complaint and skimmed through it. "So I take it he doesn't plan on leaving anytime soon?"

"No. Not when he has this much of an upper hand." The humans inhabiting the country suddenly became a weak point. Jalen was confident he could take on the archdevil and perhaps Therkoth alone. With the help of The Radiant Assembly and other superheroes, perhaps they stood a good chance of matching Belial's most powerful demons. However, the issue of the archdevil's potential escalation still persisted. How was he to protect three hundred million Americans from being decimated by the other demons? Was he to sacrifice a few million to save the rest? Not ideal.

The questions with no answers trailed on. The red serpentine demons who were shrouded by the other demons. What was their purpose and what powers did they command? Belial stated his intention to return to hell. Then was his army simply an advance force, powerful enough to provide deterrence for the likes of him? Probably. Belial likely had a much larger force in Hell keeping his territory in check.

"Give me that," the military man said, snatching the Agreement from Mason's clutches. After reading the paper's contents, the man glared up at Jalen. "What nonsense is this? A settlement on American soil? We are to surrender a strike group?"

"Yes," he replied, awakening from his deep thought. "Or was it not your ships that fired on him? Whatever you used for the assault, evacuate your personnel and forfeit the equipment. Belial's daughter and her forces will set out in a few hours into the ocean. I don't need to remind you how little regard the demons hold for human lives."

"Nonsense!" the man spat. "We will drive them back to where they came from. None of these terms are agreeable."

"Fine." He turned away with a mind to head toward Ella. "Suffer the consequences then. I will be back to pick up the scraps of whatever or whoever's left."

"General—"

"No!" The man's shout cut off Mason's attempt to cool the rising heat. "We are not done here, fugitive. You will be going on no more adventures without my supervision. Superheroes arrest him!"

Jalen turned back, his eyes burning. "The fuck did you just call me?"

"Arrest him! What are you waiting for?" The general's eyes quickly darted between Demistra and Ameor, then up at the superhero floating above. "Arrest him, Novaman! As the Commander-in-chief of this operation, I order you to arrest him."

However, the superheroes remained rooted in their positions. Demistra, donning her iconic gown embellished with a glimmering gold belt and dazzling crystal rings, scarcely acknowledged the command. Standing beside her, a towering and powerfully built black man, dressed in a sleek navy blue suit that hugged his form, flashed an unimpressed grin toward the general. He was Downpour, known for his unwavering smile, regardless of his inner sentiments. Ameor, reclining on the hood of a military Humvee, lazily rested his hands behind his head, displaying a palpable sense of boredom. His attire comprised of armored pants and a robust leather jacket adorned with metal studs.

With his order falling on deaf eyes, the general clutched his holstered pistol as Jalen drew near. However, Novaman landed between them before things escalated.

"The Agreement, General Brooks." Novaman stretched his arm out and the terrified man reluctantly gave it up.

"You disobeyed my orders," the general said, as Novaman read through the terms. "The president appointed me. I am in charge."

"Do you feel in charge?" Novaman asked coolly, his gaze fixed on Brooks. The general, his face slick with sweat, remained silent, heart pounding in his chest. Seeing no response, Novaman turned to Jalen, extending a hand. "From what I've heard, it is you I must thank for averting disaster."

As Jalen accepted the handshake, his senses worked to read the superhero's true mood. But he need not have worried. Novaman revealed it by squeezing his hand with enough force to crush reinforced steel. Undeterred, he returned the appreciation by applying the power used to punch through a building. The ground beneath them trembled and begged to be let off. General Brooks shook on unsteady feet, the buildings around shaking and glass shattering.

"You have my profound gratitude," Novaman said, smiling with bright teeth and increasing the strength he exerted.

"Don't stress it," he replied, doubling the force applied. "I'd do it again."

Even matched with droves more strength to spare between them, they at last broke off the congratulatory handshake.

"Demistra, relay to Admiral O'Connor the fate of his strike group and assist in the evacuation of his personnel," Novaman ordered, his voice steady as he turned to walk away. "Downpour, I need you to monitor the demons sent to destroy the ships from a safe distance. I assume the USS Gerald R. Ford was not used for the offensive, with cruisers and destroyers taking the brunt instead. Ensure the admiral withdraws the carrier to a safe location."

The magical superhero nodded, formed a portal, and walked through it with Downpour following close behind.

"Where are you headed?" Mason asked.

"To meet with the president. There is much to discuss." Then Novaman launched into the air and was quickly a dot in the sky.

Finally, Jalen could approach his sister, and he hugged her tightly after returning to his human form.

❊ ❊ ❊

It was the day before Christmas Eve. Hermosville had been under constant assault from snowfall for two unrelenting weeks, a thorough winter, the likes not seen in decades. The streets Jalen walked through bore several inches of snow that brave residents fought to combat. Cars seldom passed and smiles hardly registered on the faces of the people he strolled by.

Hours after his sit-down with Belial, Gremory sank the missile cruiser USS Normandy, and destroyers USS Ramage and USS Paul Ignatius, all vacated, off the coast of Jersey. A week later, Congress agreed to honor the agreement he struck with Belial after President Edwards gave it his blessing. Hand in the pocket of his coat while the other held a duffle bag, he turned into the next street. Most of the demons, now under Gremory's leadership, had left the city en route to their new settlement.

He crossed the street toward a grouping of small commercial buildings. Real estate agents, lawyers, consultants, and debt collectors tooled their craft from this street. He found the place he was looking for and twisted the doorknob. It wouldn't budge. Then he knocked instead and waited. Minutes later, with no answer, he did the next sensible thing and kicked the door open.

Inside was considerably warmer, like the place was inhabited. Upon entering the modest lobby, he looked up at the framed photographs that adorned the walls crafted from elegant, dark wood, patiently waiting for the office's resident to appear.

"Give me one good reason not to blow your head to bits," a man voiced behind him, cocking a shotgun.

"I'd rather you not stain my clothes," he said, turning. "Are you Mr. Yale?"

The man wore a cozy robe stained with spilled coffee. A patchy stubble clung to his face and his expression was one of confusion mixed with fear. "Depends on who's asking. Now, what do you want?"

Jalen noted that the gun remained raised. "A debt long overdue. I'm here to clear it."

"Debt? I know all the people owing. You ain't one of them."

"But my sister is. Come on, I have somewhere to be." He walked by Mr. Yale, headed for the office down the dark corridor.

By the time the man entered the office, he was seated.

"Look, sir." Mr Yale rounded him and placed the shotgun in a cabinet behind the desk. "I don't know if you are aware of what's happening, but now's not a good time."

He dropped the bag on the desk. "In there is half a million. Since you took it upon yourself to harass my sister, I figured you wouldn't be opposed to delivering the payment to the people who sent you."

"Okay, look." Mr. Yale raised his hands. "Let me save you the headache. I don't take cash. They won't."

Jalen rose to his feet, patting his coat down. "I am certain they will reconsider in these trying times. However, if your superiors still refuse, let them know the identity behind the payment. I'm sure that will change their mind."

"And who might you be?"

He stopped in the doorway. "Jalen Nkanga. I hope I will not have to return here because next time I won't be as cordial."

❊ ❊ ❊

The portal fizzled into nothingness after he passed through. In contrast to the chilly and gloomy weather in Hermosville, the location where Jalen stood exuded warmth, accompanied by the pleasant aroma of blooming flowers. He stood at the crest of a hill that overlooked hundreds of tents, which were still inhabited by humans. If he were to go further down past this group toward the plains, thousands of tents still stood tall. The people were content to wait until the last demon vacated their city.

As he turned to a particular tent nearby, he smiled. Through the draped opening, Ella and Jessica were laughing about something while playing a game of cards.

"You've been awfully busy."

"Not nearly as occupied as you," he said. "How are you doing?"

A majestic black panther with a coat as intricate and stunning as the starry night had appeared next to him. "About the same as you. Reasonably content."

"I don't doubt that," he chuckled. "Just finished being worshiped and praised? I can practically smell the angels off you."

Yun waved him off with a paw. "Oh, please. You know I deserve that. We are a Cosmonar after all. Perhaps I should summon the angels here to continue what I left behind."

His heart nearly stopped.

Yun transposed into a rumbling laughter.

"Good one, Yun. My time will come." Then he took a deep breath. "Come, it's about time I introduced you to the rest of the family."

He trekked down the hill.

"And give your aunt another heart attack scare?"

He stopped and tilted his head back at her. "Oh, come on, Yun. If she dies, I'll just revive her."