Present Day – Council Hall
"The Carellos," Vantessa began slowly, "were not always corrupted. In fact, it was grief and betrayal that led them to seek the deepest, blackest power."
Maika's eyes shimmered faintly. "And Corrine's Childrens… they were the first to embrace it fully, wasn't they?"
Vantessa nodded.
"The offspring were the source of the dark magic. Corrine didn't seek darkness out of ambition—it was heartbreak that led her to Lucifer's catacomb."
Merca leaned forward, eyes sharp. "But what about Calix? What happened when he found out Brienne had used a love spell on him?"
A silence dropped like a blade.
Queen Vantessa's voice softened, yet her tone was laced with steel.
"When Calix learned the truth… he shattered."
Maika's breath caught in her throat.
"He left Brienne," Vantessa continued. "She was pregnant with their second child, begging him to stay, but he walked away—ashamed, enraged, and most of all… betrayed. All that time, he believed his love was real."
Merca clenched her fists. "And Corrine? Did he try to return to her?"
"He did," Vantessa replied, her gaze distant. "But it was too late. Corrine had already surrendered to Lucifer. She was with child—a demon child. The Corrine he had known was gone, replaced by a woman burning with dark power and desire. She didn't even look at him the same way anymore."
Maika's voice cracked. "So… the devil. He really loved her?"
They all stirred. A question no one dared ask before.
Vantessa turned toward Maika, eyes gleaming with truth. "Yes," she said quietly. "He did."
Merca scoffed, half-believing. "But… Lucifer? Love? How can something with no soul feel love?"
A bitter smile ghosted across Vantessa's lips.
"Lucifer was born of shadow, not of man. He is temptation incarnate, hunger unending. And yet, the first time he touched Corrine in the catacombs… he became addicted. Not to her body alone, but to the fire of her soul. She was brave enough to claim him. Bold enough to ask for power in exchange for everything."
The air thickened. A candle hissed out on its own.
"He never sought another woman again," Vantessa said. "Even in the Underworld, the sirens and succubi danced before him, but he would not look twice. When he married Corrine, he stayed. Always. In every labor, every birth, every storm of her emotions. He was there. Even the other demons began to whisper—the Devil has chosen a Queen."
Maika's hands trembled in her lap.
"She was loved… by the devil himself."
Vantessa met her gaze.
"Some may doubt it. But those of our ancestors who have seen the signs, who watched how he protected her, how he destroyed anyone who made her cry… we know it's true. Corrine might have made a pact, yes—but she never walked alone."
Silence reigned for a long moment.
Then Maika whispered, "So… this is what we're up against. A bloodline not only of black magic, but one born from a love darker than night."
Vantessa's voice was grim. "And their children… Aslan, Cassandra, the others… They do not just inherit power. They inherit devotion. Purpose. Legacy. And that, my child, is what makes them most dangerous."
Flashback continuation.
The night was heavy with magic.
Beneath the crimson glow of a rare Blood Moon, eight figures stood in a perfect line at the border of the Elite realms. They wore fine cloaks woven with Carello sigils hidden beneath the silk, and enchanted masks that shimmered like stardust. Their eyes glowed—some red, some gold, some deep violet—and their presence could not be mistaken for human.
They were no longer children.
They were weapons sharpened by shadow and time.
At the center stood Aslan, tall and commanding, now twenty by mortal years but far older in essence. His long black coat swept the ground as the wind teased his raven hair. Eyes like onyx carved from hellfire stared forward as he tightened his glove.
"Tonight," he said calmly, "we begin the undoing of the world that rejected our mother."
To his left, Cassius, the twin of ice, cracked his knuckles. "Finally. I was growing bored of training."
Cassandra, beside him, smirked. Her eyes sparkled with flame as her fiery braid flicked over her shoulder. "Try not to freeze anyone on the first day."
Sandro stepped forward, his voice low and teasing. "Do remember, brother—this is infiltration, not annihilation."
Lynna was already humming a spell, her voice laced with invisible seduction. "We seduce, we observe, we manipulate. That was the plan, wasn't it, Aslan?"
He nodded.
"We are not just here to destroy. We're here to corrupt them from within."
Marius and Merika, the storm twins, shared a glance. Marius's knuckles sparked; Merika's hair floated with static.
And at the end, sweet Lucille, the youngest, now fifteen by years but terrifying in ability, sat on a floating stone, her eyes blank like moonstone. "They won't even know we're there," she said in her eerie, singsong tone. "Until it's too late."
Aslan turned and raised a hand. A flicker of dark mist opened like a curtain in the air, revealing eight shimmering portals, each one tailored to a target location: Vampire Courts, Lycan Strongholds, Witch Sanctums, Elven Territories.
"Take your places," he ordered. "Plant seeds. Earn their trust. And if anyone grows suspicious…"
He smiled.
"…make them disappear."