The headquarters of Morningstar Incorporated cast a pall that spanned the realms of the Hells. Virtually every soul toiling and suffering under the flaming black skies felt the building's shadow on their backs every moment. The heavy shadow of the menacing black glass monolith was one of the brilliant deceptive illusions of the place and a favourite of Asmodeus.
Inside his penthouse suites, the CEO of Morningstar Inc. scowled. He was slumped in the folds of a massive burgundy leather wingback chair. Across the room, draped in a similar chair, Azazel looked thoroughly pleased with himself. Wearing a black velvet track suit, he sat askew, one of his legs cradled over the edge of the chair's wide armrests. Dangling his foot about, Azazel snickered. He said to Asmodeus, "You look worried."
"I'm surrounded by damned souls and conniving Daemons, Azazel. Shouldn't I be worried?"
"Not at all old stick, you've got an alliance with the Shade. You're the biggest and baddest Daemon in the head. You're doing fine."
"Quit blowing smoke up my ass, I number you and Shade among those I trust the least." Asmodeus growled.
"You're such a talker," Azazel laughed. "Me, I'm touched."
A thin wisp of purple smoke appeared just above the large round blood red coffee table between Azazel and Asmodeus. "It's about time," Asmodeus grumbled.
The wisp of smoke became a torrent until the purple eyes appeared in the haze. The rasping voice of the Shade greeted them. "Felt anything recently?" Shade hissed offhand.
"Yes, I suppose it's all of your doing. What was it?" Asmodeus asked.
"I have effectively released Hell on Earth, set up the Outcasts for the crime, sidelined the Angels of Wrath and established a puppet government in waiting for the Heavens. Not to mention, I'm going to hand to you, on a silver platter, Azrael and her beau Michael, possessor of the Picatrix." The Shade said, drifting towards one of the large tinted windows. Surveying the darkened city below and the surrounding realms of fire, it said, "Might I ask what you two have been doing?"
"Asmodeus is worrying." Azazel chirruped.
"Is he? About what? We will control the Heavens," the smoky figure said. "The Angels of Wrath won't interfere with our operations on the world and the Outcasts have been marginalized. They will be hunted down while trying to control the chaos of Tartarus released. Being virtually unopposed, what are you worried about?" Shade asked.
"What're you asking for in return?" Asmodeus replied. His eyes were riveted to Shade's.
"To be a partner in this venture. I ask only for Hell's full support when the time comes for the final battle. Until then, whatever other assistance you can provide. That, oddly enough, brings me to a gift I've sent to the world." He paused, "For you to take care of."
Tugging angrily at the folds of his suit jacket, Asmodeus asked, "And?"
"Simple, Lady Death will seek out Adimus. I've told Michael she will be ambushed by Azazel, Haroth and Maroth."
"Thank you for that," Azazel said.
"When he tries to surprise you, grab him. Use him to capture Azrael. Resistance taken care of, lost talisman found, the end of the old world, the old war and the start of a new power in life." Shade explained.
"Sounds easy," Asmodeus observed. "Far too easy."
"Azazel? Can you do what I just described?" The Shade asked.
"To catch her?" The Fallen Watcher asked. His face was serious, not the usual mocking grin. "Without using the soul for leverage, I'd say doubtful. If we grab him first, Azrael may fold."
"You'll have a few new decorations for your dungeon afterwards." The Shade said.
"I can do it," Azazel said.
The Shade's eyes flash with delight. "How are your current tenants?"
"Busy." Azazel yawned, "Haroth and Maroth are making them feel quite uncomfortable. Ozah is being a stubborn bastard. Filleting his children and ravaging his wife hasn't taken him to where I had hoped. He'll break though."
"I hope so." The Shade said.
"I never fail in that department. Speaking of which, I should really be getting back. The Ozah family will have a hiatus while we take care of your business." Azazel said and rose from his chair. He looked across the coffee table at Asmodeus and asked the reclined Daemonlord, "If that's alright with you, of course?"
Disgusted with Azazel, Asmodeus waved his hand in dismissal. He knew the Watcher was playing him for something. When he figured it out, Asmodeus swore he'd crunch the spindly Azazel like the rat faced vermin he was. He would do the same with Shade when the moment was right. Until then, Asmodeus would continue to play along.
"I could always use a little more help." Azazel told the Shade.
"Decimus and Dagan have other matters to attend to. Should you run into any trouble, they'll assist you in whatever capacity you require." Shade replied.
"If I need reinforcements?" Azazel chortled, "The Roman and the brat aren't going to be of any help to me."
"Don't underestimate Dagan. If you require reinforcements, you haven't done the thing right. Besides which, until they are bound, I don't want Michael and Azrael to see how I have taken everything from them. Just for me, I'd like to keep Dagan's role in all of this secret."
"Whatever you say," Azrael said and vanished from the sitting room.
The Shade looked Asmodeus over as it drifted from the windows. "You don't seem too thrilled. Normally you'd be bellowing with laughter at the thought of daemons rampaging unchecked through the Heavens. I deliver the first taste of Hell on Earth and you're glum. You're not jealous, are you?"
Asmodeus said. "You have your chaos, you'll have your talismans and you'll have your great battle. After that, you haven't told me what it is you want. Would you care to enlighten me about those plans?"
"No." The Shade replied and disappeared.
The meeting with the Shade had left Asmodeus unsettled. After the shadow departed, Asmodeus sent for Dumah. When the former Angel of Silence arrived he found Asmodeus pacing by the lounge's long, tinted windows. Dumah poured himself a large scotch with eyecubes from the bar before sitting down. Listening quietly while Asmodeus ranted, raved and schemed, Dumah tinkled the eyecubes together and nodded.
"If Shade thinks he's gonna get Heaven, the world AND then tell us what to do? That smoggy purple malakite asshead is going to be surprised." Asmodeus' said and his rumblings swayed the building.
Dumah held a hand over his glass as the scotch sloshed about. The eyecube's jangle was harsh against the crystal, but Dumah remained unfazed by Asmodeus' outburst.
"There's more to Shade and his little toy Azazel. I'm pretty certain it was Shade who sent Haroth and Maroth to me in the first place. They're all in this together. Never trust Watchers. You know this as well as I, Dumah."
The former Angel of Silence nodded in reply. Tinkle. Tinkle-Tinkle.
Pointing to the Lord of Gehenna, Asmodeus continued, "Go and make sure this all works out for us. I don't want a double cross."
Tinkle.
"Hmm." Dumah said.
Asmodeus waited.
Tinkle.
"What is Azazel doing, exactly?" Dumah asked. His grey eyes were frosty.
"He's going to get Azrael at Shade's behest."
"What do you want me to do?"
Tinkle-Tinkle-Tinkle.
"Keep an eye on Azazel and watch out for any tricks"
Tinkle.
"That's all?"
"For now. If necessary, act to protect our interests. Otherwise, I wait while you watch. When chance shows itself we'll stab them in the back and hang them in a dungeon of your choosing." Asmodeus smirked and continued, "Not only are Azazel and his little twins supposed to get Azrael, they're taking your dear friend Michael too."
Tinkle.
The silence in the lounge was long and cold. Slowly, softly, Dumah said. "My price is the soul Michael, untainted, when you are done with him."
After Asmodeus nodded in agreement, Dumah drained the rest of his glass. Crunching the eyecubes in his mouth he stood and walked out of the lounge.