Fallen Angel's Harem in the Abyss
Chapter 38: There is no Calm in the abyss - 2

Chapter 38: There is no Calm in the abyss - 2

It was too quiet, the roar outside muffled to a distant thunder, the shelter pressing in like a coffin.

Azareel finally broke it, his voice hoarse but steady. "...Is everyone okay?"

No one answered at first, the amber light flickering across their faces.

Then Nyxsha grunted, her golden eyes scanning the shadows. "Peachy."

Virelya hissed under her breath, her coils shifting restlessly. "We shouldn’t stay long. The Abyss doesn’t stop."

"I know," Azareel said, his silver eyes wide but calm. "But just a few minutes. Just... a breath."

Sylvara looked at him, her amber eyes unblinking. "Even the breath can betray you here," she whispered, her flowering hair drooping slightly.

Azareel smiled softly, despite the weight pressing on his chest. "Then I’ll hold mine for now."

Virelya stared at him, her golden eyes narrowing behind her mask. "...You’re not afraid, are you?" she asked, her voice a breathy murmur.

He nodded faintly. "I am."

"Then why are you calm?" she pressed, her coils tightening slightly.

"I’m not," he said gently, his voice a quiet anchor in the oppressive hush. "I’m just choosing not to scream."

The space pressed tighter, the walls seeming to contract with each pulse of the glowing veins.

Nyxsha’s fur bristled against his shoulder, her massive form a solid presence; she refused to look at him but didn’t move away, her warmth a defiant barrier.

Sylvara sat across from them, her gaze fixed on Azareel like he was a flower she couldn’t quite identify, her lips parting once, but no words emerging.

Virelya slowly descended from the ceiling, her coils unwinding in slow, ghost-like grace, until her upper body hovered just above Azareel’s lap.

"...You make the air feel different," she whispered, her voice laced with awe and unease. "It’s still heavy. But it doesn’t choke."

Azareel chuckled nervously, his fingers tracing patterns in the dust. "Maybe you’re just getting used to me?"

"No," Virelya said, her golden eyes intense. "That’s the part that frightens me."

Nyxsha suddenly shifted, growling low in her throat, her golden eyes flashing.

"Back off, snakebutt. He’s mine," she snarled, her voice possessive, her paw inching closer to Azareel.

Virelya coiled in a way that blended playful and murderous, her mask tilting. "You always say that, but you never bite," she teased, her fangs glinting.

"Say that again and I’ll show you teeth," Nyxsha snapped, her claws unsheathing slightly.

"Girls," Azareel said gently, his voice cutting through the tension like a soft light in the gloom.

They turned toward him—two monsters, fangs and eyes glowing—and suddenly, Azareel smiled.

It was so warm, so sincere, a sunrise in a dying place, his silver eyes bright despite the shadows.

"I’m just glad we’re alive," he said, his words simple, hanging in the air like a fragile promise.

The others stared, the amber light flickering across their faces, the walls pulsing as if in response. _{f r\eew,eb novel.c(o)(m)}

Then Sylvara, without a word, plucked one of her smallest flowers—a white bloom edged in crimson—and placed it gently in Azareel’s hair, her touch light, almost reverent.

He blinked, touching it softly.

"Um—thank you?" he said, his voice a mix of surprise and gratitude.

"You soften things," she murmured, her amber eyes softening. "Even places that should not bend."

For a few moments, no one spoke, the Abyss still roaring outside, the world still cracking.

But inside that cramped, breathing room, pressed close enough to feel each other’s warmth, they sat in something that almost... almost felt like a miracle.

DRRRRrrrrrr~

The shelter trembled, a subtle vibration at first, like the low groan of an ancient entity turning in its sleep, the fleshy walls contracting with a wet, rhythmic pulse.

Then the air tightened, pressing on their chests like an invisible fist, squeezing the breath from their lungs.

The breathing stone seemed to hold its inhale, the glowing veins dimming as if the structure itself were bracing.

"...Did it just—" Virelya started, her coils tightening in midair, her porcelain mask tilting upward.

BOOM.

Something massive crashed down from above, the impact reverberating through the alcove like a thunderclap.

The ceiling shattered, bone and stone splitting apart in a cascade of debris, a chunk of cathedral wall caving inward with a deafening roar, vomiting a blinding, crimson-tinted glow that flooded the space like the sky itself was bleeding.

Everyone stumbled, the ground lurching beneath them.

Azareel hit the floor hard, dust choking his lungs, his silver-white hair whipping as he coughed.

Sylvara’s vines snapped out instinctively, catching a falling beam that threatened to crush her, shielding her glowing form with a lattice of thorns and petals.

Virelya hissed and uncoiled like a whip, slamming into the side wall and vanishing in a blur of silk and shadow, her golden eyes flashing in the chaos.

But Nyxsha—she wasn’t fast enough.

A jagged piece of the ceiling, easily the size of a wagon, loomed above her like a falling mountain, its edges sharp and unforgiving.

Her golden eyes widened, her legs twisted under her from the initial shake, her massive form pinned in place.

She wouldn’t move in time, the weight descending with merciless speed.

Azareel moved without thought.

"NYX—!!" he cried, his voice breaking as he threw himself into her, tackling her to the side with every ounce of his fragile strength.

CRACK.

The stone slammed down onto Azareel’s back—missing her by inches, but crushing him into the ground with a sickening crunch that echoed through the alcove.

Blood sprayed in a silver-pink arc, bones snapping like dry twigs underfoot, the impact sending a shockwave that rattled the remaining walls.

The world stopped, the roar of the Abyss fading to a distant hum in the stunned silence that followed.

Nyxsha blinked, breathless, pinned under his arm, her black fur matted with dust and his blood.

Azareel’s body lay limp atop her, his silver-white hair splayed across her chest, his scarred stumps oozing fresh ichor that shimmered unnaturally in the crimson light.

"...Azareel?" she whispered, her voice cracking, her golden eyes wide with horror.