《Genesis》 Prologue Prologue The sky above Hell burned as the angels descended. Golden wings tore through the smoke, their blades glinting with divine fire. Michael stood at the front, his silver armor untouched by the filth of the underworld. Behind him, dozens of angels followed, their faces devoid of emotion. The mission was simple¡ªcleanse Hell¡¯s overpopulation. It was routine. Nothing personal. They had done this countless times before. A woman ran through the crumbling ruins, her bare feet pounding against the scorched ground. She clutched a child to her chest, her breathing ragged. Her fur¡ªonce a beautiful, deep crimson¡ªwas now stained with blood. Her ears flattened in fear, and her golden eyes darted frantically for an escape. There was none. Michael landed in front of her. A wall of flame erupted behind him, cutting off any hope of running. The woman snarled, baring sharp fangs. "You don¡¯t have to do this," she growled. "He¡¯s just a child!" If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Michael¡¯s face remained blank. "That is not my concern." With a wave of his hand, the angels rushed forward. The woman didn''t fight. All she cared about was protecting the child with her own body. A spear pierced her side. Then another. And another. She collapsed to the ground, blood pooling beneath her. The baby in her arms began to cry. Michael lifted his sword, the golden blade humming with power. But before he could strike, his eyes flickered to the child¡¯s bare chest. A mark. The shape of a star, inked in black and red, glowing faintly. Michael¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change, but he lowered his sword. The angels around him murmured. "Another of Abaddon¡¯s bastards," one of them scoffed. "That dragon will screw anything with legs." Laughter rippled through the warriors. The mission was clear¡ªwipe out demons. But the rules were also clear. Abaddon¡¯s children were untouchable. Michael turned away, wiping the blood from his blade. "We¡¯re done here." The angels left without another word. The child, still crying, was left alone in the ashes. Chapter I Chapter I Cain ran, the sound of shouting and angry footsteps pounding behind him. He gripped the bag of stolen gold tightly in one hand, his dragon tail whipping behind him as he dodged through the narrow alleys of Wrath. "Faster!" Goliath, the massive bull, roared as he knocked over crates behind them to slow their pursuers. His heavy hooves smashed against the pavement like drumbeats of war. "I am fast!" Cain shot back. "Then maybe don¡¯t steal from a store with guards next time!" Ezra cawed, his black magpie wings tucked against his sides as he ran. Unlike Cain and Goliath, he couldn¡¯t afford to fly¡ªtoo open, too easy to shoot down. Behind them, armored enforcers of Wrath¡¯s district yelled orders. Their spears crackled with fire. "Almost there!" Lilith, the slender fox, called. She was barely out of breath, her fluffy tail trailing behind her as she easily weaved through the chaos. Agile, fast, and way too cocky. Cain grinned. He lived for moments like this. With one final push, the four thieves dove into a side alley, slipping into the shadows as the guards thundered past without noticing. Silence fell. Lilith turned, flashing a victorious smirk. "That was too easy." Goliath dropped onto a nearby crate, catching his breath. "You call that easy?" Ezra let out a chuckle, his talons clicking against the cobblestone as he caught his breath. "Could¡¯ve been worse." Cain leaned against the wall, finally allowing himself to breathe. His red fur was damp with sweat, and his floppy ears twitched as he listened for any signs of pursuit. Nothing. "Alright," he said, tossing the bag onto the ground. "Split it up, like always." The group fell into familiar routine, each taking their share of the gold. No one was greedy. In Wrath, trust was scarce, and betrayal was deadly. As Cain pocketed his portion, Lilith nudged him with her elbow. "You ever think about getting out of this life?" Cain snorted. "And do what?" Lilith hesitated, her sharp eyes studying him. "Something better." Cain shook his head. "This is what we do, Lilith. What we¡¯ve always done." She didn¡¯t argue. But as she turned to leave, her tail brushed against his leg¡ªa small, almost hesitant touch. Cain didn¡¯t notice. Lilith sighed and disappeared into the night. Cain opened the door to his dark apartment. He threw the stolen goods onto the table and collapsed onto the couch, exhausted. The place was a mess¡ªdiscarded fish cans, unwashed clothes, and a faint smell of smoke. His mind drifted. Is this it? Is this all life is? Just as he was about to drift off, the doorbell rang. Cain¡¯s ears twitched. No one ever came here. He stood, wary, and slowly opened the door. Lilith. Her blue eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, and there was something different in her expression¡ªuncertainty. "You look like shit," she said. Cain sighed. "Nice to see you too." She stepped in without asking and tossed a small envelope onto the table. "I got something for you," she said. Cain frowned. "From who?" "That¡¯s the weird part." She ran a hand through her messy auburn fur, tail flicking. "Some guy bumped into me on the way home. By the time I realized what happened, he was already gone¡­ and this was in my hands." The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Cain narrowed his eyes. "And you thought to bring it here?" Lilith shrugged. "It has your name on it, genius." Cain picked up the envelope. The paper was rough, almost ancient, and his name was scrawled in dark red ink. His claws flexed. Something about this felt wrong. "You didn¡¯t answer my question," he muttered. Lilith smirked. "About what?" Cain turned to her. "How do you know where I live?" Her grin widened, playful yet secretive. "I have my ways." Cain sighed. "That¡¯s not an answer." "And you¡¯re not getting one." A silence settled between them. Lilith sat on the couch, watching him with an unreadable expression. Finally, she spoke. "So¡­ you gonna open it or just stare at it all night?" Cain exhaled sharply and tore the letter open. His blood ran cold. Cain¡¯s claws trembled slightly as he unfolded the paper. He expected a threat, a warning¡ªsomething dark. But instead, there were only two things written in sharp, neat handwriting: 04.04.1783 Main Square That was next week. Cain''s brow furrowed. No name. No instructions. No explanation. Lilith leaned over his shoulder, her fluffy tail curling around her legs. "That¡¯s¡­ weird." Cain nodded. Whoever sent this knew how to find him. That alone was unsettling. "Could be a trap," she added. "Could be an opportunity," Cain countered. Lilith smirked. "You¡¯re too optimistic for a guy living in a dump." Cain snorted and set the paper down. "Either way, we need to be ready." She stretched her arms above her head, ears twitching. "Yeah, but that¡¯s a problem for future Cain. Right now, I just wanna sleep." Cain hesitated. Lilith was tough, but Wrath¡¯s streets were ruthless at night. The idea of her walking home alone didn¡¯t sit right with him. "...You can stay here," he muttered. Lilith raised a brow, her fox-like features lighting up with amusement. "Are you worried about me, Cain?" He looked away. "It¡¯s just¡­ it¡¯s late." Lilith grinned. "And dark. And scary." She nudged him. "Don¡¯t worry. I won¡¯t steal your bed. Probably." Cain rolled his eyes. "Just take the couch." She flopped onto it immediately, tail flicking in satisfaction. "Deal." Cain sat down next to her, still gripping the letter. His eyes traced the numbers and words, but his mind was elsewhere. Who sent this? Was it a threat or an opportunity? Was he walking into a trap? He exhaled slowly. They had a week to figure it out. Beside him, Lilith let out a quiet yawn. Before Cain could react, she leaned against him, her head resting lightly on his shoulder. Her silk-soft fur brushed against his cheek, carrying the faint scent of wildflowers and city dust. She really was exhausted. Cain tensed at first¡ªhis muscles stiff, his breath caught in his throat. He wasn¡¯t used to this¡­ closeness. But as the minutes passed, the tension faded. The world outside the apartment¡ªthe streets, the heist, the mystery of the letter¡ªall melted away. His eyes grew heavy. The last thing he felt before sleep took him was the gentle rhythm of Lilith¡¯s breathing and the warmth of her fur against his skin. Cain¡¯s eyes snapped open, but he wasn¡¯t in his apartment anymore. He stood in a vast chamber of black stone, the air thick with the scent of burning sulfur and old blood. Shadows danced along the towering pillars, stretching into a sky that did not exist. Before him loomed a throne of bone and obsidian, massive beyond reason, carved into the shape of a great dragon¡¯s maw. And sitting upon it¡­ Abaddon. Seven serpentine necks rose into the darkness, each bearing a terrible head, their scales gleaming like molten metal. Their glowing eyes stared down at him¡ªeach one a different, unnatural color: Red. Green. Yellow. Blue. Indigo. Violet. Orange. Some heads bore two jagged horns, others only one or none at all. But the last one, sitting in the center, wore three spires of bone. Their long necks slithered and curled, attached to a single massive body, broad-shouldered and thick with iron-hard scales. Two enormous wings stretched behind the throne, their tattered membranes flickering like the shadows of a dying fire. A bulky, armored tail coiled around the base of the throne, the sharp tip digging into the stone. His arms and legs were thick with corded muscle, ending in black, gleaming talons, large enough to tear through mountains or men. Cain could feel the weight of the beast¡¯s presence, pressing against his chest, making it hard to breathe. One of the heads lowered toward him, glowing violet eyes narrowing. "Will you claim your birthright¡­ or will you die like the rest?" The voice wasn¡¯t spoken aloud¡ªit echoed within Cain¡¯s mind, scraping against his thoughts like steel against bone. Another head slithered closer, this one with three great horns and golden eyes like burning suns. Cain clenched his fists, but his body refused to move. A sudden flurry of whispers rose around him, countless voices in the darkness, speaking words he couldn¡¯t understand. The throne room began to crack apart. Cain looked down¡ªblack fire was creeping up his legs, consuming the stone beneath him. He struggled, but the flames burned without pain, pulling him deeper and deeper into the abyss. Above him, Abaddon¡¯s many heads laughed, their voices melding into one, deep and ancient. ¡°Wake up.¡± Chapter II Chapter II Cain¡¯s eyes shot open. His breath came in short, ragged gasps, his claws digging into the couch fabric. His body felt hot, his heart pounding like he had just escaped something terrible. The dream¡ªAbaddon¡¯s throne, the voices, the fire. It all felt too real. It took him a moment to steady himself, blinking at the dull gray light filtering through the cracks in the blinds. The apartment was silent. Then he noticed¡ªLilith was gone. The spot beside him on the couch was cold, but her scent still lingered faintly in the air. She must¡¯ve left early. Cain sighed, running a hand through his messy red fur. No note, no message¡ªtypical Lilith. She wasn¡¯t the type to say goodbye. He needed to clear his head. Cain sighed as he grabbed a small metal can from the counter, his claws making a soft scrape against the tin. With a quick motion, he jammed a knife under the lid and pried it open. The sharp scent of oily fish hit him immediately. Cheap, salty, and cold¡ªjust how he always ate it. He speared a chunk with the tip of his knife and popped it into his mouth, chewing lazily. No effort, no fire, no problem. After swallowing, he grabbed a half-empty jug of water, taking a long swig to wash down the taste. Same damn meal every day. But cooking? Too much work. After finishing, he threw on a worn-out coat and stepped outside. The streets of Wrath were alive with noise¡ªvendors shouting, drunks stumbling out of alleyways, the smell of smoke and spice filling the air. This city never slept, never stopped. Cain shoved his hands into his pockets and started walking. The streets were alive with noise. Vendors shouted over each other, peddling questionable meats, rusted trinkets, and stolen goods from makeshift stalls. The air was thick with the stench of smoke, sweat, and old blood. Somewhere nearby, a drunken fight erupted, the sound of shattering glass followed by a chorus of cheers and jeers. The buildings loomed tall and uneven, their stone facades blackened by years of filth and fire. Cracked signs swayed dangerously from rusted chains, and the cobblestone streets were slick with yesterday¡¯s rain, pooling in the uneven ground like dark mirrors. Overhead, wrought-iron lanterns hung from twisting metal poles, their flickering light barely holding back the gloom. This city never truly saw daylight¡ªthe sky was always choked with smoke from the countless forges and burning trash heaps. Cain walked past a group of rowdy-looking thugs, their voices rough and slurred from cheap alcohol. One of them, a scarred boar-like man, spat at Cain¡¯s feet, sizing him up. Cain barely spared him a glance. Not today. He pulled his coat tighter around him and kept moving. As much as he hated this place, it was home. For now. Cain walked through the crowded streets, his boots splashing through puddles of filth and rainwater. The city of Wrath was a chaotic mess of violence and desperation, but here¡ªat the heart of it all¡ªstood something entirely different. The Main Square was unlike the rest of the city. A grand town hall rose from the center, its tall tower piercing the sky, crowned with a massive iron clock. The hands moved slowly, ticking away the minutes in a steady, unforgiving rhythm. The stone walls were polished and pristine, untouched by the filth that covered the rest of Wrath. Above, the sky burned deep orange, casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets. The sun barely shone through the haze of smoke, but here, in this place, the world looked almost¡­ beautiful. And then there was the fountain. At its center stood Amon, the Princess of Wrath. A stone statue captured her in mid-motion¡ªa regal, untamed figure, her wolf-like lower half poised as if ready to pounce, while her long snake tail curled around the base of the fountain. Her ears twitched in the carved marble, and though her face was human, her eyes held something inhuman¡ªsomething dangerous. But this was just a statue. The real Amon? She was said to roam the city, keeping a watchful eye over her domain. It wasn¡¯t rare for her to transform into something far worse, something that made even the most hardened criminals keep their heads down. Cain sat on a bench, letting out a slow breath. He glanced up at the tower¡¯s clock. One week from now. That¡¯s when he was supposed to return. Maybe this was the moment that would change his life. Maybe it was just some idiot playing a joke on him. Or maybe¡­ Maybe he was supposed to die here. Cain leaned back, staring at the orange sky. A week wasn¡¯t long. But it was long enough to wonder if he wanted to show up at all. Cain sat on the bench, lost in thought. One week. That was all the time he had until the meeting. Until then, life went on as usual¡ªstealing, surviving, and questioning if there was something more. Then he heard it. "That¡¯s him!" Cain¡¯s ears flicked as he snapped his head toward the shouting voice. A plump, red-faced merchant stood at the edge of the square, pointing straight at him. The owner of the shop they robbed last night. "Guards! That¡¯s the thief!" Cain was already moving. "Stop, in the name of Princess Amon!" The first guard was still a few feet away when Cain bolted through the crowd. The market was packed, making it hard for the heavy-armored pursuers to push through. Cain, however, moved like a shadow. He ducked between stalls, leaped over crates, and nearly knocked over a fruit vendor, who cursed at him as apples spilled across the cobblestone. A sharp whistle pierced the air, followed by the boom of a megaphone. "By the order of Princess Amon, halt immediately!" Yeah, not happening. The chase had only just begun, but Cain knew the pattern¡ªone guard turned into two, then five, then ten. He needed to disappear. Now. Cain suddenly veered left, darting into a narrow alleyway. The guards hesitated for half a second before following. That half-second was all Cain needed. A ladder leaned against the wall¡ªa rare stroke of luck. He grabbed it, climbing three rungs at a time as the guards shouted below. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. By the time they reached the alley, Cain was already two stories up. "He''s going for the rooftops!" someone yelled. No turning back now. Cain swung himself over the edge, landing on the flat stone roof of a decrepit building. The city stretched before him, a sea of rooftops and chimneys. Then he looked back. His stomach dropped. Half the town¡¯s guards were after him. On the streets. On the rooftops. Everywhere. And worst of all? He had nowhere to go. Cain¡¯s heart pounded. The guards were getting closer, climbing higher, their boots scraping against stone as they reached the rooftops. He had to move¡ªnow. The next rooftop was at least six meters away. A ridiculous jump for most. But Cain? He was no ordinary man. He backed up to the edge of the roof, feeling the rough stone under his paws. His dragon tail twitched, ready to counterbalance his weight mid-air. He just needed one good sprint¡ªone perfect leap¡ª Then he heard it. The sound of flapping wings. A shadow passed over him, massive and dark, blocking the evening sky. Cain froze mid-step as the air around him shifted, the scent of blood and perfume filling his nose. He looked up and saw her. Princess Amon. She hovered just above him, her great black crow wings beating the air in slow, effortless motions. The setting sun made her figure almost glow¡ªa goddess of war descending from the heavens. She was exactly as the stories described: And she wasn¡¯t alone. Dozens of wasp-winged soldiers hovered behind her, their stingers gleaming in the dim light. Cain barely skidded to a stop before he jumped straight into her. His breath hitched. Now he truly had nowhere to go. The city guards finally caught up, scaling the last few meters and pulling themselves onto the rooftop. He was surrounded. Steel swords. Buzzing wings. Predator eyes watching his every move. For the first time in years, Cain felt completely trapped. A heavy silence fell over the rooftops. Then, Princess Amon spoke. "Going somewhere?" Cain raised his hands slowly, palms open. "Now, now," he started, forcing a smirk. "Let''s not be too hasty. I think we can talk this out like reasonable people." Amon tilted her head, her golden eyes narrowing in amusement. "Talk?" she repeated, crossing her arms. "You mean like the last time?" Cain blinked. Last time? He searched his memory, but nothing came to mind. "I''m... not sure what you''re talking about," he admitted. Amon''s face turned red. The once-fearsome Princess of Wrath suddenly clenched her fists, looking more like an offended teenager than a merciless ruler. "You¡ªYou forgot?!" she sputtered, her wings fluttering erratically. Cain could only stare. The city guards shifted uncomfortably, and even the wasp soldiers hesitated, as if unsure whether they were supposed to keep looking intimidating or not. Amon pointed a sharp claw at Cain¡¯s chest. "You tricked me! You¡ªYou embarrassed me in front of my entire court! And you just... forgot?!" Cain tilted his head. "...Did I?" Amon stomped her foot on the rooftop, sending small cracks through the stone. "You absolute idiot!" Cain, still completely lost, just sighed. "Look," he said, stretching his arms, "I don¡¯t know what happened, but honestly? I don¡¯t feel like running anymore." Amon froze. The guards and wasps froze. Cain just lowered himself onto his knees and placed his hands behind his back. "Go ahead. Take me in." For a long moment, no one spoke. Amon¡¯s jaw practically hit the floor. "...What?" Cain shrugged. "What, do you want me to run? Put up a fight? You¡¯ve already got me surrounded, and I¡¯m really not in the mood for an execution today." Amon gritted her teeth. "You¡ªyou can¡¯t just give up!" But Cain just smirked at her reaction. "You sound disappointed," he mused. "I am!" she blurted out. "This was supposed to be an exciting chase! Maybe even a battle! And you just... you just surrender?" Cain shrugged again. "Sorry to ruin your fun, princess." Amon stared at him, completely dumbfounded. Eventually, she groaned and waved a hand. "Fine. Whatever. Chain him up. We¡¯re taking him to the castle." The guards quickly secured thick iron chains around Cain¡¯s wrists, binding his arms tightly. The wasp soldiers lifted him by the arms and wings buzzed loudly as they took off from the rooftop, carrying him toward the massive Castle of Wrath. As the city disappeared beneath him, Cain only had one thought: Well¡­ this day got interesting. The iron door slammed shut behind him. Cain rolled his shoulders, testing the weight of his new restraints. Thicker chains, enchanted to hold even demons in place. The dungeon walls were damp, lined with flickering torches that barely held back the darkness. He sighed. At least it was quiet. For now. Because, as expected, Princess Amon visited him personally. At first, she didn¡¯t say much. She would just stand there, arms crossed, watching him like a puzzle she couldn¡¯t figure out. Sometimes she asked questions about his past. Other times, she just mocked him for getting caught so easily. And every time she left, Cain felt more and more uneasy. Tonight was no different. As soon as the guards left him alone, footsteps echoed down the hallway. Cain didn¡¯t even need to look up. "You again?" Amon smirked, arms behind her back. "Me again." She walked up to his cell, golden eyes gleaming through the bars. "Don¡¯t you have better things to do?" Cain asked. "Ruling an entire circle of Hell and all that?" Amon just shrugged. "Boring." Cain raised a brow. "Boring?" "You¡¯re more entertaining," she admitted. Cain chuckled. "You need to get out more, princess." Amon¡¯s tail flicked, but she didn¡¯t argue. Instead, she tossed something through the bars¡ªa small bag of dried meat. "Eat," she ordered. Cain hesitated, then grabbed the bag and leaned back against the stone wall. "How generous." Amon just smirked. "Try not to die in here. I still haven¡¯t decided what to do with you." And just like that, she was gone again. Cain sat in silence for a moment, chewing on a piece of meat. Then, a deep chuckle rumbled from the cell next to his. He turned his head to see an old lion sitting behind the bars. Thick golden fur, a heavy mane streaked with silver. His sharp eyes shone like molten gold in the torchlight. He was big, even for a lion, yet something about his posture felt... relaxed. Like he was exactly where he wanted to be. Cain raised an eyebrow. "Something funny, old man?" The lion huffed. "Never seen her visit anyone so often." Cain scoffed. "Yeah, well, I am a special kind of criminal." The lion smirked. "Sure. Or maybe she just likes you." Cain paused mid-chew. Then he barked out a laugh. "Yeah, right. That crazy princess? She barely knows me." The lion tilted his head. "Does she?" Cain rolled his eyes. "Okay, wise one, what do you think she wants from me?" The lion chuckled again. "I already told you." Cain shook his head, leaning back. "Crazy old man¡­ What are you even doing here anyway?" The lion smiled, his sharp teeth glinting. "Waiting." Cain frowned. "For what?" The lion didn¡¯t answer. He just closed his eyes, as if enjoying the silence. Something about him felt¡­ different. Cain had no idea who this guy was, but he was definitely more than just another prisoner. From all of these questions his eyes closed on themselves.