"The Watchers are aware of it too," Samael told Beelzebub, who was waiting for him at the cave entrance after he handed Ramus over to Minox. "I don't think they pose a threat, but you never know. I have a hunch they'll be showing up at our door soon, so be ready."

"How should we be ready, my lord?"

"Be prepared to welcome them with all the ceremony due to the leader of Inferno and the Reformatory," Samael replied.

He was right. As expected, two Watchers appeared at their door, requesting an audience.

After Beelzebub announced them, he led them into the main hall, a vast chamber with stone walls and a long table surrounded by benches. At the head of the table stood a throne-like armchair. Gold inlays adorned the walls, forming elaborate spirals that shimmered faintly in the torchlight.

Samael lounged in the comfortable armchair at the head of the table. His gaze drifted to the Shadows who, spears in hand, escorted the two Watchers. Through the gaps between their bodies, he could see the spears pointed at the Watchers.

Samael waved his hand. "I don't think there's any need for this."

The Shadows lowered their spears and parted, giving Samael an unobstructed view of the Watchers.

The Watchers' gazes locked onto him, and they gasped. With their long dark blond hair tied into a ponytail, grey eyes, and dressed in identical linen robes, they looked like twins.

"Sit, sit," Samael gestured, his voice calm, before thanking the Shadows, who left the hall at his command, with Beelzebub staying by the door.

The Watchers were about to walk to the end of the table, but Samael waved them closer, pointing to the spots near him. "I have no intention of shouting, and how am I supposed to hear you all the way over there?"

The Watchers walked to the indicated spots and sat down.

A figure veiled by Beelzebub's broad frame appeared at the entrance. Samael recognised the long brown hair and flowy white robe before Ayinel's face even came into view.

"We apologise for disturbing you," one of the Watchers said. "We only came to assure you that we don't pose a threat to you and your ..." He glanced at Beelzebub. "... your charges."

"You don't have to worry." Samael gave him a pleasant smile. "I never considered you a threat."

The Watchers exchanged a glance before focusing their attention back on Samael. One of them coughed. "Yes, we imagine you don't."

Beelzebub stepped forward.

Samael sighed, already suspecting what Beelzebub would say. The hopeful look on Ayinel's face confirmed it. He gestured toward the Throne and spoke loudly, "Come if you must, but keep quiet."

Ayinel nodded eagerly and quickly moved toward them.

Samael shook his head as he watched him. The Thrones were old, ancient even, yet at the same time despite their age, because their dealings were limited to the Second and Third Heaven, they were incredibly naïve and ignorant about the other Heavens. Divinity gave them insight into the knowledge, but only theory. Which had to be the reason for Ayinel's curiosity and his need to stick his nose into everything. In a way, Ayinel's inquisitiveness reminded him of Shadows. That's probably why he didn't mind his intrusions that much.

"That's a Throne," the Watcher whispered to his friend.

"I apologise for that." Samael leaned in closer to the Watchers, his voice lower. "He's so noisy."

"No, no, no. No need to apologise." The Watchers stood, bowing slightly to Ayinel as he approached.

"He's not here as a representative of the Second Heaven, so don't mind him," Samael added, gesturing to a spot on his left for Ayinel to sit opposite the Watchers. He turned back to them. "You were saying?"

The Watchers looked at Ayinel, who smiled back at them.

"Just pretend he's not here."

The Watchers exchanged glances, and the silence stretched for a moment before Ayinel broke it. "Really, don't mind me. Everything spoken here won't reach other angels. Not through me."

The Watchers nodded, but the silence continued for a long moment before one of them spoke. "About the calamity..."

"Yes..." Samael lifted his eyebrows.

"Unfortunately, we don't have any specific details about it, only that it's scheduled sometime in the future. We hope you can share some information with us." A short pause. "We don't have anything to exchange for information, but we would appreciate learning it very much."

"I can't help you with that. Not because I don't want to or refuse to, but because, like you, I only know that it's going to happen."

The Watchers glanced at Ayinel again.

"He doesn't know anything either," Samael told him.

"Ah." The Watchers exchanged gazes again and one of them cleared his throat. "If we learn anything, we will share information with you and we hope you'll be willing to do the same."

Samael made a noncommittal sound of agreement.

The Watchers stood. They nodded first to Samael, who remained seated, and then to Ayinel, who stood up too, before they, under Beelzebub's guidance, left, first the main hall, and then the caves.

"How come they know it too?" Ayinel asked. "Low-rank angels are not informed about it, only the Thrones. But there are some rumours about it, though."

"Is it important? Maybe a high-ranking angel who is well versed in heavens' politics is their acquaintance or maybe some in their mists know how to read the signs to predict the creations' future... Who knows? Who cares? The fact is that they are aware of it and quite certain it will happen."

"Could a Throne tell them?"

"Go, and ask them," Samael said, his mind on the Watchers, then on the ark, and then on what he learned about the calamity from Ayinel.

A catastrophe was coming. He could feel it himself, that it was coming, or maybe he was imagining it. There was an oppression in the air, the pressure that he could feel at the back of his neck, and it was heavy and thick, nothing like the light positive vibration of an angel.

He turned around to see where Beelzebub was, only to see him by his side. "Do you want to go to Reformatory with me?"

"Of course, my lord."

Samael glanced at Ayinel, who, to his surprise, didn't try to invite himself. He shrugged before he connected divinity, and from the light of it, he pulled out the sword. He cut into the fabric of the creations and opened the portal to the Reformatory. Together, they stepped through the portal.

The Reformatory was hot and humid. Stone bridges arched over the river of lava and ice that was flowing across the plane, going in and out of the lake at the back of it. A small ominous cloud, the Neitherblight, hovered over the lake.

Usually, he could see a few Shadows guiding the souls towards their spot in the river, and maybe a small group of them socialising by the stone tower at the corner of the space. But now, he could see many of them walking across the plane. And where in the past there was only a stone tower, now stood a castle built into the rock.

He turned to Beelzebub.

"Some of the Shadows requested relocation."

"So many?"

Beelzebub nodded.

"How come B..." Samael's voice trailed off.

"Belial." Beelzebub supplied the name.

"Accepted them?"

Beelzebub shrugged.

"I'm surprised." Samael glanced around over the gloomy grey plane lighted with the red hue coming from the river and the lake. "Does the Reformatory look a little bigger?"

"They have been working on expanding it."

"I don't hear anything." Samael looked around again. This time, since he paid attention to it, he could see picks at the foot of the nearest rock wall.

"We are having an afternoon break," a deep voice behind Samael said.

"Oh, Belia." Samael turned.

"Belial," the man in dark robes with long flowy hair that cascaded down his shoulder said.

"Yes, Belial. How is it going?"

"Well."

"They had also widened the parts of the river," Beelzebub said.

"Splendid." Samael nodded in approval at Belial. "You're doing well. I'm proud."

Belial scoffed.

"My lord," a cry cut through the air.

Samael turned to see a Shadow hurrying toward him.

The creature, covered with long fur, fell on his knees before him.

Samael heard multiple gasps before more Shadows rushed towards him.

The Shadows joined the one kneeling on the ground. "You came back!"

"I only came here to see how you're doing." Samael gestured for Shadows to rise. "You look well."

They refuse to rise and one of the Shadows said, "We are not well, my lord."

"We have been waiting for your return," another Shadows added.

"We missed you."

"You have to do something about Inferno."

"And Satan."

"Belial." Samael turned to Belial, only to see that the man slipped away. He made a face.

The Shadows continued with their complaints about the situation in Inferno and Satan.

"You had it rough." Samael looked down at the Shadows' hopeful faces, at their desperate gazes. He wanted to comfort them, to ease their suffering, but he knew better. If he intervened, they would never learn. He waved to them to quiet down. "But... Listen, listen. I'm here only for a visit."

"But Satan—"

Samael interrupted, "You were the one who chose Satan."

"I didn't," the Shadow denied.

"You did when you were natural and didn't decide to support me," Samael said flatly. All the Shadows who supported were with him in the Fifth Heaven, except the few who kept an eye on what was happening in the Inferno. This meant that all the Shadows kneeling before him at the time of the decision for the leader of the Inferno were either neutral or they were supporting Satan. He hardened himself.

"But my lord, how would we know what would happen? Please, help us," a Shadow cried out and more similar cries followed.

Samael lifted his hand, stopping his cries. Inwardly he sighed as sharpened his features into a strict expression. "You made your choice, and these are the consequences of it. You need to deal with them yourself."

"My lord," a soft sob escaped from a Shadow.

Samael sighed. "You made your choice," he repeated in a softer voice. He was not indifferent to their suffering, but they had to clean their messes themselves. "If you want me to return as the leader, I will. But for that to happen, you first need to remove Satan. And you need to do it yourself."

"How can we do that?" a Shadow yelled; the voice filled with despair.

"I have faith that you will find a way," Samael told them, and then, ignoring their anguished cries, he returned to the Fifth Heaven with Beelzebub.

Before they entered the caves, Beelzebub stopped him. "My lord, are you really not going to help them?"

Samael faced him. He sighed. "I know you don't agree with me. I see it clearly on your face."

"I know they didn't mean for this to happen."

"They choose this," Samael countered. "You were there when they did that."

"It would be so easy for you, my lord, to remove Satan."

"Yes, it would be. But if I did that, they wouldn't have learned anything. To learn, they need to correct what they had caused themselves." He patted Beelzebub's shoulder. "They are not helpless children, even though you sometimes see them as such. They are Shadows just like you, capable as much as you. – Well, not as you, but close enough."

Beelzebub hung his head, frowning.

"I know you care for them. I care for them too. That's why I'm doing this." Samael sighed. "You need to believe in them. They can solve their mess without our help." He patted his shoulder again before he entered the caves. Beelzebub worried too much. Though, the way the Shadows were crying and complaining, the situation in Inferno must have really deteriorated. Which was something he was already aware of. How could he not, with Gaap's daily reports on it? But how much... Maybe he should verify this with his own eyes.

He directed his step towards his room, and inside it, he clocked himself and, again, with his sword cut into the fabric of creations. This time the final destination was his rooms in the Inferno.