Chapter 461- The Prophecy Coming True

The imp, its expression a mix of apprehension and frustration, locked eyes with Zach, who was now under the influence of the spirit of the seven hells. The imp's frown deepened as it mustered the courage to challenge the malevolent force that had taken control of Zach's body.

"Release him! This isn't the fate he deserves!" the imp demanded, its voice trembling but determined.

In response, a chilling, otherworldly voice echoed through the air, resonating with an eerie presence. "Ah, you, such impertinence in your tone. Is this how you greet an old companion?"

The spirit of the seven hells materialized before the imp, its form obscured by shadows, revealing only a pair of haunting, crimson eyes. The imp, though accustomed to the supernatural, couldn't help but feel a chill crawling up its spine.

"You know the prophecy, don't you?" the spirit mused, its voice a sinister whisper. "Zach was destined to become the destroyer of worlds. I merely expedited the process. The power he wields now is beyond your understanding."

The imp's eyes narrowed, defiance burning within. "He was not ready for this. You've disrupted the natural order!"

The spirit chuckled, the sound echoing like distant, mocking laughter. "Ready or not, the prophecy unfolds. The key was never in readiness; it was in inevitability."

As the imp continued its plea, the air grew thicker with an ominous energy. The shadows twisted and danced, creating an unsettling atmosphere. The spirit of the seven hells regarded the imp with an inscrutable gaze.

"Release him, or I swear by all the realms, I will find a way to banish you," the imp threatened, its voice resonating with a desperate resolve.

The spirit's eyes glowed brighter, a malevolent gleam dancing within. "Ah, the imp with a backbone. But banish me? You can't banish fate, old friend."

In the chilling depths of the seven hells, where shadows danced with the echoes of forgotten screams, the spirit of the seven hells and the weakened imp stood facing each other. The air itself seemed to quiver with the weight of their history.

The spirit of the seven hells, a spectral figure cloaked in ethereal darkness, spoke in a voice that sent shivers through the imp's essence.?"Ah, the memories of a bygone era. When you…" it nodded towards the imp, "Wielded my power with unparalleled might. The time when the hells bowed to your command, the time when you were the puppet master of the hells? Such chaos, such glorious malevolence."

The imp scowled. "Don't play games with me, spirit. You know that was ages ago. What do you want now?"

The spirit chuckled, a sound that echoed through the cavernous depths. "Patience, imp. All in good time. But first, let me remind you why you were chosen as the ruler of these hells."

The imp's eyes narrowed. "Chosen? I never wanted such a burden."

The spirit circled the imp like a phantom breeze. "Ah, but you were perfect for the role. Your thirst for power, your cunning, your insatiable desire to control—all qualities befitting the ruler of the seven hells."

The imp, growing more agitated, demanded, "Get to the point. Why me?"

The spirit paused, savoring the imp's impatience. "Why, indeed? You were chosen because of the Dead Demon Child, the one who would bring about the prophecy. Zach."

A shiver ran down the imp's incorporeal form. "Zach? What does he have to do with any of this?"

The spirit's luminous eyes glinted with eerie amusement. "The prophecy, my dear imp, was written long before Zach's birth. He was destined to be the key, the catalyst for the destruction and rebirth of the universe. And you, imp, were chosen to usher in that era."

The imp, now visibly shaken, stammered, "I... I don't understand. What does Zach have to do with the hells?"

The spirit leaned in, its voice a sinister whisper. "Everything, imp. Zach's existence was woven into the very fabric of the prophecy. His destiny was intertwined with the fate of the hells. You were chosen not for your own prowess but for your connection to him. You were the harbinger of his arrival, the one who would prepare the hells for the arrival of the Dead Demon Child."

As the revelation settled in the echoing chambers of the seven hells, the imp, now comprehending the magnitude of its role, felt a chilling realization crawl through its essence. The spirit of the seven hells had a puppet master of its own, and the strings of fate were being pulled from a dimension beyond the grasp of both demon and spirit.

The imp, weakened and desperate, gazed up at the spectral figure of the spirit of the seven hells. "What is it that you desire? Speak plainly!"

The spirit's voice reverberated like distant thunder. "I desire to witness the grand finale—the destruction and rebirth of the universe. The Genesis. The culmination of eons, the dance of chaos and creation."

The imp pleaded, "But it's too soon! Zach is not ready for such power. Release him, and I am here. Possess me instead. Spare him from this fate."

The spirit's ethereal aura expanded, a forceful manifestation of its will. The imp, unable to resist, fell to its knees under the weight of the spirit's dominion.

"Old friend, you underestimate the cosmic design," the spirit intoned. "Zach is the fulcrum upon which the fate of the hells pivots. His destiny is to be the instrument of universal change."

With a rising crescendo, the spirit of the seven hells ascended into the darkened sky, merging seamlessly with the shadows. Its essence flowed like a river of cosmic energy, descending from the heavens to once again possess Zach's unconscious form.

As the spirit fully melded with Zach, a surge of power emanated, causing the very fabric of reality to ripple. The stars in the firmament trembled, responding to the awakening force within the Dead Demon Child.

Raising its hand high, the spirit of the seven hells initiated a celestial symphony. Distant stars were drawn closer, trailing cosmic brilliance as they descended from their celestial abodes. The once-distant galaxies now loomed overhead, brought within reach by the spirit's transcendent influence.

The imp, still on its knees, watched in awe and dread as the spirit began the cosmic cascade, a series of events that marked the beginning of the end. The destruction of the first hell was but the overture to the cosmic opera orchestrated by the spirit of the seven hells, and the universe itself bowed before its unfolding destiny.

"Oh, should I call it an apocalypse?" it laughs out loud.

Suddenly the connection between the cosmos and the spirit of the seven hell was cut off. Surprised and baffled, the spirit of the seven hells looked at his hands and frowned its face.

The spirit of the seven hells recoiled, aghast at the unexpected interference. "What treachery is this? Who dares to challenge my dominion?"

From the very essence of the spirit of the seven hells, a pair of crimson eyes manifested, gleaming with both familiarity and defiance. A shadowy silhouette emerged, materializing into a form that was unmistakably a reflection of the spirit of the first hell.

The spirit of the first hell grinned devilishly. "Well, hello there... Father..."