The path to the next chamber felt suffocating. The air was thick with a salty tang, reminiscent of the sea, and an oppressive silence hung over the group. When they entered the room, they found themselves surrounded by walls that seemed to ripple like water, reflecting their distorted images back at them.

At the center of the chamber loomed a colossal statue of Leviathan, the Prince of Envy. The figure was serpentine, its massive body coiled upon itself. Its scales shimmered like oil on water, shifting between colors in an unsettling display. The head of Leviathan was both majestic and monstrous, with sharp, angular features and eyes that seemed to pierce through the group. Its mouth was open, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth, and its long, clawed arms reached out as if ready to ensnare anyone who dared come close.

“This,” Selene said, her voice echoing eerily, “is Leviathan, the Serpent of Envy, ruler of the seas of despair.”

Selene began her tale with an almost mournful tone. “Leviathan was once known as Liaviah, a celestial guardian of the seas. His role was to protect the waters of creation, ensuring they remained pure and life-giving. He was revered for his wisdom and strength, and his scales were said to reflect the Creator’s light, a testament to his divine purpose.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “He was a protector? That doesn’t sound like someone who’d become a devil.”

“Indeed,” Selene replied. “Liaviah was noble and steadfast, but even the most faithful are not immune to corruption. His fall began not with rebellion, but with doubt.”

“Liaviah’s fall started when he began to compare himself to his brethren,” Selene continued. “He saw their roles—the angels who guided the stars, those who inspired mortal hearts, and those who protected the heavens—and he began to feel slighted. He believed his duty, though vital, was undervalued. The other angels basked in glory and praise, while he toiled in solitude beneath the waves.”

Tom frowned. “So he felt… jealous?”

“More than jealous,” Selene said. “Jealousy is fleeting. Envy takes root in the soul and festers. Liaviah’s envy grew until it consumed him. He began to resent the very waters he once loved, seeing them as a prison that kept him from the recognition he believed he deserved.”

Selene’s voice grew heavier. “Liaviah’s envy led him to question the Creator’s plan. He accused the Creator of favoritism, of giving others roles more worthy of praise and admiration. When his accusations went unanswered, his anger boiled over. He turned his power against the waters, unleashing chaos upon the seas he once guarded.”

Jack’s brow furrowed. “And that’s when he was cast out?”

“Yes,” Selene said. “For his betrayal, Liaviah was cast into the Abyss, where the seas became his prison and his torment. As he fell, his celestial form twisted into that of Leviathan—a monstrous serpent of envy, forever bound to the waters he once cherished.”

“Asmodeus’s realm is one of pleasure and torment, but Leviathan’s is one of despair and unrest,” Selene explained. “His domain is a boundless, dark ocean, where souls are plunged into the depths, consumed by their own envy. They are forced to relive moments of comparison and resentment, drowning in their inability to find contentment.”

Claire shivered. “That sounds… suffocating.”

“It is,” Selene said grimly. “Leviathan ensures that his victims are never at peace. The souls in his realm are constantly surrounded by the things they desire but can never have, a torment that mirrors Leviathan’s own eternal longing.”

“Leviathan’s power lies in his ability to sow discord and unrest,” Selene continued. “He feeds on envy, magnifying it until it becomes an all-consuming force. He can twist even the strongest bonds, turning love into resentment and admiration into hatred. To invoke Leviathan’s name is to invite division and strife.”

Emma’s voice trembled. “Has he ever… tried to change? To let go of his envy?”

Selene sighed. “If there is any part of Liaviah left within Leviathan, it is buried beneath layers of bitterness and regret. He is a being defined by his envy, and to let it go would mean unraveling his very essence. Whether he desires redemption or even remembers what it feels like is a mystery.”

“Leviathan’s reach extends far beyond the seas,” Selene said. “His influence can be felt in every envious glance, every whispered word of jealousy. He thrives on the divisions created by envy, fueling conflicts and breaking apart communities. Nations have fallen, families have been torn asunder, all because of Leviathan’s whispers.”

Jack clenched his fists. “So he’s like a puppet master, pulling the strings of people’s insecurities?”

“Exactly,” Selene said. “Leviathan doesn’t need to create envy—it already exists within mortals. He simply amplifies it, using it to sow chaos and destruction.”

Selene’s gaze swept over the group, her expression grave. “Envy is a poison that can destroy even the strongest of souls. It blinds you to your own blessings, making you resentful of others. Leviathan is a reminder of what happens when envy takes root and is allowed to grow unchecked.”

The group stood in silence, the weight of Selene’s words pressing heavily on their minds.

Jack stared at the statue, its serpentine coils and piercing eyes an eerie reflection of the turmoil that envy could bring. Leviathan was not just a devil—he was a cautionary tale, a warning of how easily one’s virtues could be turned into vices.

As they left the chamber, the oppressive atmosphere began to lift, replaced by the more familiar air of Hell’s labyrinth. Selene’s words lingered in their thoughts, a chilling reminder of the destructive power of envy and the importance of finding peace within oneself.