CHAPTER FOURTEEN: YOU FAILED ME.

Asmodeus smiled to himself as he approached the imposing ice blue castle, its walls constructed from the carcasses of countless creatures and humans. The eerie, cold atmosphere was a balm to his soulless existence, and he felt a sense of belonging within these foreboding walls.

He quickened his pace, his footsteps echoing through the stillness as he approached the castle gates - three small caves that formed the mouth of the skull-shaped mountain. Each gate led to the palace of one of the three Satans: Lucifer, Beelzebub, and Belial. But Lucifer's palace was the grandest, a testament to his superior power and status.

Asmodeus knew a secret that no other demon dared to whisper: Lucifer was not the only Satan, and his true form was far more complex than anyone imagined. He manifested in three forms - the Head, the Warrior, and the Beast - and Asmodeus was the sole keeper of this forbidden knowledge.

The weight of this secret was a heavy burden, but also a great honor. For in knowing the truth, Asmodeus held the key to Lucifer's power, and his own position was secured. He was the master's most trusted servant, and he would stop at nothing to keep this secret safe.

The hellish palace of Lucifer was a foreboding structure of dark, icy stone, its walls and towers piercing the sky like jagged shards of glass. The air was biting cold, the wind howling through the halls like a chorus of the damned. Frost and ice encrusted every surface, glinting in the faint, eerie light that seemed to seep from the very walls themselves.

The ground beneath was hard as steel, frozen and unforgiving, and the sky above was a deep, foreboding grey, like the belly of a beast. The only vegetation was a twisted, blackened forest that seemed to shiver and writhe in the wind, its branches like skeletal fingers reaching towards the palace.

Inside, the palace was a labyrinth of dark, icy chambers and corridors, the walls adorned with twisted tapestries that seemed to depict scenes of unspeakable horror. The floors creaked beneath every step, and the sound of dripping water echoed through the halls like the slow beat of a malevolent heart.

Everywhere, there were reminders of Lucifer's power and dominance: statues of twisted, nightmarish creatures, their eyes glowing with an otherworldly light; great, dark mirrors that seemed to reflect the very soul; and throne rooms filled with thrones carved from black ice, their seats seeming to writhe and twist like living things.

And through it all, the cold, the biting, bitter cold, seemed to seep into every pore, chilling the very marrow of the bone. It was a place where hope seemed lost, where despair and terror reigned supreme, and where the very presence of Lucifer seemed to draw the heat from the air, leaving only a cold, dark, endless night.The scene unfolded like a dark, gothic painting. Lucifer lounged in his majestic daloj, the dragon bone chair seeming to absorb the faint light around it, its mammoth fur upholstery glistening with an eerie sheen. The air was heavy with the scent of smoke and brimstone, and the shadows themselves appeared to writhe and twist in homage to their master.

Lucifer's gaze was distant, his eyes fixed on some point beyond the realm of the living, as he sipped his wine with an air of languid disdain. The glass, carved from a single block of ice, seemed to glow with an otherworldly light, as if the very essence of the frozen wilderness had been distilled within it.

The darkness around him pulsed and swirled, like a living entity, as if the shadows themselves were alive and in thrall to Lucifer's power. The atmosphere was oppressive, weighted with the knowledge that this was a place where hope dare not tread, where terror and despair held court, and where the Lord of Hell reigns supreme.

Asmodeus stood before Lucifer, his eyes cast downward in a show of submission. "How did it go, my friend?" Lucifer's voice was low and detached, his gaze fixed on some distant point.

Asmodeus swallowed hard before speaking. "She destroyed the entire army, and she took the Asakha, your holiness." He paused, expecting a rebuke.

Lucifer's expression remained impassive, but his voice took on a hint of disappointment. "And?"

Asmodeus hesitated before continuing. "She got the president, I was not able to possess her."

Lucifer's gaze finally settled on Asmodeus, his eyes narrowing. "You failed me, Asmodeus. But then, I expected that. You are no match for Death herself."

Asmodeus's mind raced as he scrambled to salvage the situation. He knew Lucifer would not hesitate to dispose of him if he failed to provide a solution. "But I did possess the vice, and I have another plan, my Lord," he rushed out.

Lucifer's interest was piqued. "Yes?"

Asmodeus's voice took on a desperate edge. "She'll lose everything. Her powers, her reputation, her very soul. I'll make sure of it, my Lord."