Hell trembled as two titans crashed through its boundaries.
The dimensional fabric between worlds tore like tissue paper as Samael and the Spectre plummeted through layers of reality.
Their impact into the infernal realm created a shockwave that rippled outward for thousands of miles, shattering lesser demons into ash and sending waves of sulfurous fire rolling across the blasted landscape.
As they separated from their initial collision, the Spectre's form expanded, growing to colossal proportions.
His green cloak billowed outward, becoming a storm of vengeance that blotted out Hell's crimson sky.
His face, normally human in appearance, shifted into something more primal - a visage of divine retribution with eyes that burned with righteous fury.
But even as the Spectre reached the zenith of his power, Samael's true form manifested in all its terrible glory.
No longer constrained by human flesh, the Lightbringer emerged in his full celestial splendor. A being of pure, cold light expanded until it rivaled the size of Earth's moon, dwarfing even the Spectre's impressive size.
Six massive wings unfurled across the hellscape, each feather a strand of ice and light, each movement creating ripples in reality itself.
Where a human face had been moments before, three distinct heads now were.
The middle head was draconic, noble and terrible, with scales of diamond light and eyes that contained stars.
To its left was a human face of such perfect beauty, features masculine, similar to his human face as Samael Luthor, but simply more.
To the right, a tiger's visage snarled, fangs of celestial fire bared in challenge.
Thousands of eyes adorned Samael's form, each one capable of seeing through different dimensions simultaneously, perceiving past, present, and possible futures.
From his massive central form extended hundreds of smaller arms, each perfectly formed, each capable of independent action, while his primary ones were two draconic arms and legs.
Essentially a Dragon with three heads, and arms, eyes and different faces, all beautiful upon its torso.
Across Hell, demons of all ranks reacted to the sudden power. Lesser imps and minor tormentors shrieked in agony, their corrupted essences unable to withstand the proximity to such pure light.
Many simply disintegrated, turning to ash that was then consumed by Samael's radiance. Others fled in blind panic, burrowing into the sulfurous earth or taking wing to escape.
"THE LIGHT! THE LIGHT BURNS US!" screamed a cluster of lesser demons, their crude forms melting like wax as they scrambled over each other in desperate flight.
"Can't see! Can't think! Gotta run, gotta hide!" gibbered another, its multiple eyes bursting one by one as it staggered blindly through pools of molten brimstone.
Higher demons, those with greater power and intelligence, reacted differently. Some prostrated themselves before the Lightbringer's radiance, ancient instincts compelling obedience to a power that transcended even Hell's hierarchy.
"The Morning Star returns!" hissed a serpentine demon with seven heads, each speaking in turn as it bowed low. "No, not him - yet yes - the Light is the same - but different - new vessel - new purpose - old power!"
A demon lord, resplendent in armor forged from the souls of the damned, knelt at the periphery of the battlefield, its voice a sonorous chant:
"Light of creation, bright and cold,
Not Lucifer of stories old.
New bearer of the ancient flame,
Different face but power the same.
We bow before the Morning Star,
Whose brilliance outshines near and far."
Others, particularly those who had risen to power after Lucifer's abdication, reacted with hostility and fear.
A massive demon with the lower body of a spider and the torso of a decaying corpse reared up, spitting venom as it rallied its lesser minions.
"Attack! It ain't the boss! Just some upstart with stolen light! Tear it apart!"
The foolish creatures barely managed three steps before Samael's attention fell upon them.
A single glance from one of his thousand eyes, and they erupted into white flame, their screams cut short as they were reduced to nothing.
Amid this chaos, the Spectre recovered from the initial shock of confronting Samael's true form.
As Spirit of Divine Vengeance, he had faced countless powerful entities, but even he seemed momentarily overwhelmed by the sheer scale and majesty of the Lightbringer unleashed.
"YOUR DISPLAY DOES NOT INTIMIDATE ME," the Spectre's voice boomed across the hellscape. "I AM VENGEANCE INCARNATE. I AM THE WRATH OF THE MOST HIGH."
Samael's three heads regarded the Spectre with varying expressions: curiosity from the human face, prideful apathy from the dragon, and a predatory look from the tiger.
When he spoke, his voice was a symphony of harmonics that caused the very foundations of Hell to vibrate in resonance:
"You speak of wrath, little spirit? You, who are but a shadow of divine intent? I am the Lightbringer.
I have the power that brought illumination to the void before the first word was spoken. Your power is a candle before my supernova."
The Spectre's response was swift and violent. He thrust both hands forward, channeling the power.
Green energy coalesced into chains of cosmic law, each link inscribed with the names of sins and their punishments.
These chains shot toward Samael, multiplying into thousands as they approached, designed to bind and constrain the his power.
Samael made no move to evade. Instead, hundreds of his smaller arms moved in perfect coordination, fingers weaving complex patterns in the fabric of reality.
Where the chains touched his light, they simply ceased to exist - not broken, not dissolved, but retroactively removed from existence as if they had never been forged.
"Spiritual binding requires authority," Samael explained, his tone almost educational. "And you have no authority over me."
The Spectre changed tactics. Drawing on his fundamental power to inflict appropriate punishment, he attempted to turn Samael's own light against him.
Green energy infiltrated the edges of Samael's radiance, seeking to corrupt it, to twist it back upon itself.
"ALL POWER CAN BE TURNED TO JUSTICE," the Spectre intoned. "ALL STRENGTH HAS ITS MIRROR IN WEAKNESS."
For a moment, the edges of Samael's form flickered, as the Spectre's ability to manipulate reality began to show effect.
But then Samael's draconic head exhaled a breath of pure creation - not destruction, but genesis - that swept across the battlefield.
Where this breath touched the Spectre's manipulations, new realities sprouted and immediately withered, the rapid cycle of birth and death neutralizing the Spectre's influence.
"Impressive," Samael acknowledged. "Few beings could even touch my essence. But touching is not grasping, and grasping is not controlling."
Now it was Samael's turn to attack. His six wings beat once, creating a shockwave that rippled through multiple Hell kingdoms simultaneously.
The Spectre raised barriers, but they shattered like glass before the onslaught. The force sent him tumbling backward.
Before the Spectre could recover, Samael's tiger head roared - a sound that contained the fundamental frequency of divine will.
This was not destructive power but rather pure authority, the same note that had been struck when light was first born.
The sound wave struck the Spectre like a physical blow, compressing his expanded form back to human size.
"You rely too much on size and spectacle," Samael observed, his human face now speaking, drawing experience from his grace's memory of Lucifer sparring with Michael "True power lies in precision."
To demonstrate, one of Samael's hundred smaller arms extended a single finger.
With a touch so delicate it barely disturbed the ether, he traced a sigil in the air before the Spectre.
The symbol, a complex arrangement of lines and curves that seemed to fold in on themselves, glowed with cold fire.
"BEHOLD: THE TRUE NAME OF VENGEANCE ......."
The sigil pulsed once, and the Spectre convulsed as if struck by lightning.
His green energy fluctuated wildly, parts of his form becoming transparent as the sigil interfered with his very being.
"HOW-" the Spectre gasped, his voice weakened. "THAT NAME IS KNOWN ONLY TO THE PRESENCE!"
"I am the Lightbringer," Samael replied simply. "No truth can be hidden from me."
The Spectre rallied, drawing on the source of his divine wrath. Green fire erupted from his form, coalescing into a sword of judgment that grew until it matched Samael in scale.
With both hands, he swung the massive blade, aiming to cleave through Samael in two.
Samael's draconic arm moved, catching the blade between two claws. The collision released a burst of energy that vaporized a significant portion of Hell's landscape, leaving a molten crater miles wide.
Demons that had been watching from what they thought was a safe distance were instantly reduced to ash, their screams lost in the cosmic thunder of the impact.
"ENOUGH GAMES," Samael declared, his dragon head speaking again. "YOU CAME TO MY DOMAIN. YOU THREATENED WHAT IS MINE. NOW FACE THE CONSEQUENCES."
With a twist of his massive claws, he shattered the Spectre's sword. The fragments dissolved into motes of green light that scattered across the infernal sky.
Before the Spectre could form another weapon, Samael's six wings folded inward, encapsulating both beings in a sphere of pure light.
Inside this sphere, reality operated according to Samael's will alone. The laws of physics, the flow of time, the very concepts all bent to his design.
The Spectre found himself unable to expand his form, unable to draw on external power, confined to a battlefield where every rule favored his opponent.
"Now we fight as equals," Samael announced, though the statement was clearly ironic - there was nothing equal about this confrontation.
The Spectre, resourceful even when outmatched, attempted to use his connection to Jim Corrigan, his human host.
He sought to draw on Corrigan's experiences with mortality, with human justice and mercy, to find a psychological weakness.
"YOU WEAR HUMAN FLESH," the Spectre argued. "YOU LIVE AMONG MORTALS. SURELY YOU UNDERSTAND THE NEED FOR DIVINE LAW, FOR CONSEQUENCES, FOR JUDGMENT."
"I understand far more than you comprehend," Samael replied, his human face twisting into a cold smile. "I understand that you have interrupted my evening. You have disturbed my peace. You have frightened what is mine."
As he spoke, hundreds of his smaller arms began to weave a complex pattern around the Spectre, creating a web of light that constricted with each movement.
The Spectre struggled against these bonds, but found them unbreakable.
"YOU SPEAK AS IF YOUR PERSONAL COMFORT OUTWEIGHS COSMIC ORDER," the Spectre challenged, still defiant despite his predicament.
"For me, it does," Samael replied simply. "My pleasure is my priority. My desires are my directive. The universe exists to be experienced, to be savored."
To illustrate his point, Samael's tiger head exhaled a breath that crystallized into a perfect mirror before the Spectre.
In this mirror, the Spirit of Vengeance saw not his own reflection, but the countless souls he had judged throughout his existence.
Each judgment appeared in sequence, some righteous, some questionable, some clearly influenced by the limitations of his human hosts.
"Behold your record," Samael said. "Tedious. Repetitive. Endless toil with no reward. How dreary your existence must be."
The Spectre's form flickered with what might have been indignation. "I SERVE THE HIGHEST PURPOSE," he insisted. "MY JUDGMENTS ARE GUIDED BY DIVINE WILL."
"And I serve my own purposes," Samael countered, his dragon head now speaking. "My actions are guided by my desires. Which of us is truly free? Which of us truly lives?"
With these words, Samael's dragon head exhaled another breath of pure creation.
This time, it enveloped the Spectre completely, surrounding him with visions - not of justice or balance, but of pleasure in its myriad forms.
The sensual delights of the flesh. The intellectual stimulation of discovery. The emotional satisfaction of connection. The simple joy of existence.
The Spectre's struggles weakened as he was confronted with experiences beyond his narrow understanding. His green energy flickered, dimming as confusion replaced certainty.
Sensing victory, Samael prepared to deliver a final, crushing blow.
His six wings folded inward, concentrating his power to a single point of light so intense it threatened to pierce the veil between Hell and other realms.
The thousands of eyes across his form fixed on the Spectre, each one focusing a beam of power.
But then, Samael paused.
His dragon head tilted slightly, as if considering a new thought. His tiger face continued its snarling. His human visage wore an expression of contemplation.
"No," he declared, his voice resonating across Hell. "I will not destroy you."
The concentrated power dissipated, the wings unfurled once more, and the constricting web of light loosened its grip on the Spectre.
"WHY?" the Spectre demanded, confusion evident in his weakened voice. "YOU HAVE THE POWER. WHY SHOW MERCY SAMAEL?"
Samael's three heads spoke in perfect unison, creating a harmony that brought tears to the eyes of the few higher demons still conscious to witness the exchange:
"Because your destruction would inconvenience me.
The Spirit of Vengeance serves a function in this reality - handling the tedious work of cosmic housekeeping.
Without you, those tasks might fall to others.
They might even fall to me."
His human face smiled, "And I have far more pleasurable ways to spend my existence. Your humiliation today is punishment enough. Next time, knock before entering my home."
With these words, Samael's massive form contracted, concentrating once more into a sphere of pure light.
A final pulse of energy sent the Spectre hurtling downward, crashing into the hellscape with such force that he created a crater miles deep in the infernal soil.
As the Spectre lay there, his form barely maintaining coherence, he looked up to see Samael's light ascending, preparing to return to the mortal realm and his human vessel.
"Remember this day, Spirit of Vengeance," Samael's voice echoed from above.
"Remember what true power looks like. And remember that I chose convenience over vengeance - a luxury you have never been afforded."
The light vanished, leaving Hell in darkness compared to how bright it was previously. Slowly, cautiously, the surviving demons began to emerge from their hiding places.
They approached the crater where the Spectre lay, their expressions a mixture of fear, awe, and opportunistic calculation.
The demon lord who had knelt earlier now stood at the edge of the crater, looking down at the defeated Spirit of Vengeance.
His voice carried the rhythmic quality that marked him as royalty in Hell's hierarchy:
"Wrath of Heaven, broken, spent,
By Morning Light so easily bent.
Return to realm above with shame,
For Hell now whispers Samael's name."
The Spectre rose slowly, his form gradually regaining some of its former strength. He regarded the demon lord with cold contempt, but made no move to attack.
Without a word, he wrapped his tattered cloak around himself and vanished, returning to the mortal plane to lick his wounds and contemplate the humbling lesson he had received.
In his wake, Hell buzzed with the news of what had happened. The name "Samael" was whispered with fear, with reverence, with speculation.
A new power had made itself known - not Lucifer returned, but something perhaps equally significant.
The infernal hierarchy would need to adjust to this development, to reconsider alliances and enmities in light of the Lightbringer reborn.
And in the human world, a body awaited the return of its owner, guarded by angels who had witnessed the glory of the Lightbringer and sought it once more.
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(Author note: Hello everyone! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter!
Do tell me how you found Samael vs Spectre, I hope it was obvious that Samael was toying with him - if it isn't well, I'm telling you, since comparing them is comparing an ant to a supernova.
So, do tell me what you think now will happen, with Samael being known to Hell now as well.
Also, the rhyme thing being a sign of Hell royalty, is something I read somewhere, don't know how true it is, but I liked it so included it.
And finally, the Spectre is quite straightforward in a fight I noted, after reading his fight against Michael. Just wanted to get that out there.
Well, I hope to see you all later,
Bye!)