The sky above Hell burned black.
Crimson lightning split the clouds, and the air vibrated with divine tension. The higher realms had answered. Not with words. Not with mercy. But with wrath.
They descended like falling stars—celestials clad in blinding gold, blades forged from starlight and law. They came not to negotiate.
They came to erase her.
Lina stood at the edge of the battlefield, fire wrapping around her like armor, her crown forged anew—not from the Heart, but from her own flame. No longer bound. No longer theirs.
Behind her, demons—armored, clawed, loyal.
And beside her, Andra, eyes like a storm, hands still smelling of her skin, mouth still remembering her taste.
He glanced toward the golden army approaching. "They'll try to cut your name from history."
She smirked. "Let them try. I'll burn their books first."
The gods didn't speak. They only moved.
And when they did—the heavens cracked.
Lina raised both hands, and the flames screamed. Walls of fire erupted from the ground, infernal beasts clawing their way into battle, shrieking with hellish glee. Andra unleashed his rage—raw, feral, beautiful—slashing through celestial ranks with eyes only for her.
It wasn't just a war.
It was blasphemy incarnate.
Blood rained from the sky. The screams of gods echoed in the hollows of Hell. And in the center of it all—Lina, spinning, burning, every strike a memory of who she used to be and a warning of what she now was.
A goddess reborn.
One of the celestials made it through the flame—a being of light, and pity, and judgment.
"You were mercy once," it said. "You were love."
Lina met its blade with bare hands, fire coiling around her wrists. "No," she hissed. "I was obedience. And I am never that again."
She incinerated him with a scream.
Hours passed. Or seconds. It didn't matter. Time unraveled under her feet.
And when the last god fell, when the battlefield was scorched into black glass and gold dust, Lina dropped to her knees—trembling, exhausted, alive.
Andra rushed to her, lifting her into his arms, blood and ash staining them both.
She looked up at him, whispering, "It's not over."
He kissed her forehead. "No. But now they know what they're facing."
She nodded, fire dancing behind her eyes. "A queen."
He smiled, dark and full of devotion. "No, my love. A goddess who remembers how to burn."