Chaos will reign.

That's one of the last things Lucifer had said to him, but he didn't say it would be like this. At the time, Lucifer had been filled with so much glee as he spoke about their new plans. There was little to allude to his demise and what follow soon after. Hell was going to get back on track, claim it's rightful lead in the war against the other clans. After all, Lucifer was done playing with his toys. At least, that's what Zelot had assumed. He'd heard Lucifer wasn't the only one done with their combined headaches. His opinion on their relationship, be what they may, he knew their goals were intertwined. 

What came next, however, had spread fast and it spread wild. If you think a wildfire spreads rapidly, you should see the gossip from down under. First, it was the previous king of the crossroads. then the king and then his killers. The first wave brought the angels, the second had brought everything else, which in turn opened the way for the third. Then came the chaos. 

He had to give it to them though, they still held hope, still believed in the core tenets beyond the fire and filth, still held the standard even after Lucifer's death. Order and fear were the only way to instill these ideals and control the ranks and how they enjoyed instilling these tenets. Lucifer had the privilege, Crowley, and Asmodeus, in similar terms but perhaps not quite in that range, but what of now?

It was only a matter of time within a place as twisted as this. Only a matter of time before someone aims to replace the void. Many had tried but the target on their back was easy to hit in the current climate without there being an obvious victor. No archangel, no princes of hell. Only the low levels seeking power.

It was now a cycle, a few short years and it's only routine but it didn't matter as much. After all, the ongoing beneath the brimstone did not interfere with his work, he only needed to keep them from asking questions which were rare for his low-level occupation of choice did not challenge their status quo, his choice led to the illusion that he as Lucifer's right hand had given up and submitted to the new regime. His souls were valuable to hell, his perceived work was an asset to whoever occupied the throne. Business as usual. Souls and chaos, going hand in hand. They need not know the selection process or manner. If they only knew, if they only had thought to look at the coordinates. 

The thought brought a smile to his lips, they were, after all, just demons. He shouldn't expect too much of them, they were born to follow, not lead. All that glitters is not gold even when they occupy his throne but on this damp cement floor, Zelot will find his salvation. Line after line of red caked on top of each other on the top floor of this decommissioned building, it will become the door. Seven more, one had to be the key. One was the clue. The vein that runs beneath this community, the pillars on which it was built, descendants of the first. Even if they could not give him his answer, their blood would. Layer upon layer, generation upon generation. So as it was, so it shall be again. 

His vessel's hands moved across the third floor of the building, moving in a circle, symbols noticeably sloppier with each new addition. Not too far from the meaning to be void but still enough for him to know his patience was wearing thin. Mulling over the plans, images, and souls did not help his plight. 

He was getting closer to something, something outside of his plans. He could feel it. Something was residing in this godforsaken town, something powerful, but more importantly, something alive. It was something that kept him sane beyond the scope of his work, kept his mind busy as he heard another brethren fall. 

He sighed as he closed his eyes and took a breath, hands lingering over the lettering for a few moments. He could picture it as clear as a summer's day. The throne that Lucifer previously had draped himself so carelessly over. Not quite something he'd ever covet for himself, too much politics for his taste when all he sought was the new world, but he was damn sure the one currently occupying it didn't have what it takes. Wilting down their numbers in a show of power, power they had not earned. 

Demons weren't made in a day, this was a huge waste of resources, given the added knowledge of heaven's dwindling numbers.. One would think they'd use this as an advantage and take heaven once and for all, but no. They'd rather compare size than use it for something. They were leading out of fear, another day or so and he would follow the path of his predecessors, or at least, that's what Zelot can hope for. He could not interfere when he was so close, he could not compromise his work by going down. At least Lucifer's lead had brought order beyond chaos.

Pulling himself away from the distaste the current climate left in his mouth took some effort on his part but he was nothing if not determined.  His goal had a way of pulling at his strings, encompassing everything with an itch just under the skin, renewing his will even within the failures and loose threads. Losing Nick had been a setback with what knowledge his body alone held, never mind what Lucifer might have shared with him, but he was far from the only means to an end. 

He might have to switch vessels if he's going to fulfill his duty without complications. The residents would still be needed for the succession to his plans so he didn't have free reign for the foreseeable future. For the time being, they're free to graze. Those he deemed necessary. There was a grace and ritual to these things. 

The end was getting closer, hope and frustration mingling into one. The less there were, the closer he came, but the closer he came, the more the uncertainty of success grew. It had to work. It was one of the few paths still open to him. 

He needed allies, he couldn't be the only one looking to bring him back. They'd all been bred from the same cloth quite literally, without morals but not chained to the will of the collective. He couldn't be the only one loyal in a sea of iniquity. He's not naive to think it went unnoticed even when the one at the top was unsuspecting. Even as his work was spread out, it was too much of a coincidence and the obstacles in his path being minimal does not bode well for his mind. The one rolling the rock out of the path quite literally could be the one putting the knife in his back. 

There was still time to weed them out, perhaps even some time for reconnaissance to find whatever is dwelling in that town. It would help him or maybe kill him. Regardless, his main plan wasn't foolproof and he still had to think of the other clans when they know of his presence.

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