Fallen Angel's Harem in the Abyss
Chapter 36: Is there Calm in the abyss? - 3

Chapter 36: Is there Calm in the abyss? - 3

Two glowing pairs of eyes stared back at him—one amber, deep and pupil-less, radiating a quiet hunger; the other golden and slit-pupiled, glinting behind a cracked porcelain mask with mischievous intent.

"...Good morning, Still-One," Sylvara whispered, her fingers softly combing through his silver-white hair, her touch light as petals brushing skin.

"You twitch in your sleep," added Virelya, draped over a flowering arch above him like a lounging snake goddess, her veils trailing like mist. "I counted seventeen times."

Azareel sat bolt upright—only to get his head caught in a vine, then tangled in Virelya’s coils, and finally, a flower bloomed right on his face, its petals tickling his nose.

He flailed softly, his torn robe shifting.

"Wh—what—why are you both—?" he stammered, his voice muffled by the bloom, his cheeks flushing under the dual gaze.

Sylvara leaned in, her amber eyes softening, her flowering hair cascading in crimson waves. "You were very peaceful last night. We didn’t want to disturb it," she murmured, her voice a melodic hum.

"You didn’t want to disturb me, or you wanted to watch?" he asked nervously, plucking the flower from his face with gentle care, as if afraid to offend it.

"Both," they said in unison, Sylvara’s tone warm and Virelya’s laced with a breathy tease.

A pause hung in the air, the garden’s vines rustling faintly.

Then Virelya added, her golden eyes narrowing with delight, "It was soothing. Like watching a tiny, innocent animal curl into the warmth of death."

"That’s... lovely?" Azareel coughed, his silver eyes wide, untangling himself from the coil with polite awkwardness.

"You drooled," Sylvara said with a proud smile, her vines blooming brighter as if recalling a fond memory.

"I WHAT?!" Azareel yelped, his hands flying to his chin, his face turning a shade of berry-red.

Before anyone could elaborate, the leaves behind them exploded in a whirlwind of black fur, claws, and an enraged growl that shook the moss underfoot.

"WHERE IS HE?!" Nyxsha roared, her massive form bursting into the glade, her tail puffed like a bottle brush, her golden eyes wild and scanning, her ears flicking erratically as if hunting a ghost.

Azareel raised a hand sheepishly, still half-tangled in a vine.

"Hi?" he said, his voice small.

Nyxsha’s gaze locked on him like a predator spotting prey, her black fur bristling further. "You left the nest," she snarled, her voice a thunderclap of accusation.

"Your whiskers kept poking me," he explained, rubbing his cheek with a wince, his silver eyes apologetic.

"I told you to deal with it!" she snapped, storming forward, her claws scraping the moss.

"I tried!" he yelped, finally freeing himself from the vine.

Her eyes narrowed to slits, her fangs glinting as she loomed over him. "And this is your solution? Cuddling up to plant legs like some berry-scented bedwarmer?!"

Sylvara lifted her chin regally, her amber eyes calm but sharp.

"He came to me. My roots soothe the troubled," she said, her voice a gentle melody laced with defiance.

"He’s not troubled, he’s an idiot!" Nyxsha snapped, her tail lashing hard enough to uproot a small vine.

"I was just—just trying not to bleed from whiskers," Azareel mumbled, his silver hair tousled, his torn robe hanging askew.

Nyxsha’s spine tensed, her golden eyes flashing.

"That’s it. I’m taking him back. He’s not ready for this level of madness," she growled, grabbing his robe and yanking him upright with a possessive tug.

"Too late," Virelya cooed from her perch, her coils tightening slightly, her mask cracking with a smirk. "He’s already fermented in it."

Sylvara tilted her head, her vines rustling.

"Perhaps we should all consider... co-nesting?" she suggested, her tone soft but probing.

"Try it and I’ll defoliate you," Nyxsha snarled, her claws flexing as she hauled Azareel closer.

Azareel, still dangling from Nyxsha’s claws like a ragdoll, raised a hand timidly, his silver eyes darting between them.

"...Can we just have breakfast?" he asked, his voice hopeful amid the chaos.

A long, tense silence fell over the glade, the vines quivering, the moss pulsing faintly.

Then Virelya snorted, her golden eyes gleaming. "Only if you make that noise again," she said, her voice a breathy tease.

"What noise?" Azareel asked, his brow furrowing.

"That tiny whimper you made when Sylvara scratched behind your ear," Virelya replied, her mask tilting with delight.

"I—" Azareel stammered, his cheeks flushing.

"You’re going to die," Nyxsha muttered as she yanked Azareel away by the collar with a huff, her massive paw gripping his robe like a lifeline, her golden eyes blazing with possessive fury as she stormed through the vines, her tail lashing behind her.

Azareel stumbled, his bare feet catching on moss, his silver-white hair whipping in the sudden motion, his silver eyes wide with surprise.

Brrrrrrr

The garden trembled beneath them, a subtle vibration at first, like a breath held too long, rippling through the moss and vines as if the earth itself were awakening from a restless slumber.

Then—

CRRRRACK.

The sky above splintered, jagged lines fracturing the perpetual twilight like glass under pressure.

The ground heaved, buckling with a deep groan, roots tearing from the soil in sprays of dirt and sap, the earth bleeding dark, viscous ooze that smelled of rot and forgotten things.

The cathedral walls in the distance cracked with echoing moans, stones tumbling like dice thrown by an angry god.

Sylvara froze mid-step, her vines curling inward like frightened limbs, her amber eyes widening in alarm, petals shedding from her hair in a crimson rain.

Virelya’s body coiled tight around a stone arch, her porcelain mask cracking further with the strain, her golden, slit-pupiled eyes darting skyward.

Azareel stumbled again, clinging to Nyxsha’s fur as the ground lurched, his heart pounding in his chest.

"W-what’s happening?!" he cried, panic rising like bile, his voice cracking over the growing roar of the Abyss.

Nyxsha didn’t answer at first, her massive form steadying him with one arm as she looked up, her golden eyes narrowing.

The air above them fractured like glass, shards of void peeling away to reveal swirling chaos beneath.

"The Abyss," she said, her voice a low growl that cut through the din.

"It’s changing."