They entered a vast hall, a throne of bones and entwined vines looming over a dais surrounded by pools where dancing flames cast flickering shadows. Then Lilith appeared, descending an invisible staircase, each step resonating like a soft knell. Her beauty was infallible, a perfection that defied reason—a skin of alabaster glowing like the moon, silver hair shimmering with an almost spectral lunar light, cascading in endless waves that seemed to capture the flames' glow in an ethereal sheen. Her amber eyes, deep and steeped in ancient melancholy, glittered with unfathomable secrets, their gaze piercing the soul with unsettling intensity. Her curves, of infinite grace, blended delicacy and voluptuousness, a silhouette that unleashed the passions of anyone who dared lay eyes on her, each movement a subtle dance between seduction and menace. Her dress, a living fabric of scarlet silk, rippled like liquid blood, and a crown of dark thorns encircled her brow, glimmering with a subtle light that seemed to pulse with her breath.
Around her orbited her retinue: succubi with membranous wings and predatory smiles, their eyes gleaming with deadly promises; furies with black feathers and razor-sharp claws, their shrill cries echoing in the shadows; and widows, veiled silhouettes in black whose slender fingers wove shimmering threads of shadow. They formed a court as beautiful as it was terrifying, their gazes fixed on Lilith with absolute devotion.
Natass stepped forward, his sadistic grin widening. "My dear Lilith," he declared with theatrical flair, "I bring you students… or rather, toys to polish for the glory of the infernal realms!" Lilith tilted her head, an amused smile playing on her full lips. "Natass, ever so grandiose," she replied, her voice a velvety murmur that seemed to caress the air. "Satan's protégés, no less? And you, Lucifer," she added, her amber eyes sliding toward Morningstar, "playing errand boy for this imp?"
Morningstar grunted, dropping the survivors to the ground with a sharp clatter of shadow chains. "A service for the Master… at a price," he retorted, a hint of irony in his hoarse voice. Lilith let out a crystalline laugh, a sound both charming and cutting. "Ever predictable, Lucifer. And you, Natass, what do you want from me? These wrecks won't last a day under my lessons."
Natass adjusted his monocle, his smile sharpening into a biting smirk. "Oh, they'll hold, my queen. I want you to make them Tyrants worthy of the Crown… and in exchange, let's say I might share certain secrets that even you, inexhaustible fount of knowledge, have yet to uncover." Lilith raised an eyebrow, her amber eyes gleaming with sudden interest, a flicker of melancholy crossing their depths. "Secrets, you say?" she murmured, stepping closer to Natass until her intoxicating scent—a blend of rose and ash—enveloped him. "You know how to pique my curiosity, little devil. Very well… I accept. But if your secrets disappoint me, I'll make you my next toy."
Natass chuckled, a spark of defiance in his gaze. "Deal struck, Lilith. You won't be disappointed." Lilith turned to the survivors, her eyes sweeping over their broken forms with an amused glint. "Well then, young Tyrants… Welcome to my garden. Rest… for tomorrow, you'll learn what it means to bend the infernal realms.