Lucifer reached the orb.
His shadows wrapped around its surface, gripping the cracks he'd made earlier. The souls inside pressed against the walls, desperate, hungry for release. He could feel them. Thousands of them. Millions. All screaming without sound.
Damaris appeared beside him, golden light bleeding from his palms. His left wing hung at a wrong angle, but he didn't seem to notice.
"Together," Damaris said.
Lucifer nodded.
They pulled.
The orb didn't crack. It shattered.
The sound was enormous—a wet, tearing noise that echoed through the collapsing chamber. Fragments of crystal flew in every direction. Some embedded themselves in the walls. Some dissolved before they hit the ground.
The souls poured out.
Not slowly. Not gently.
