Born in hell chapter - 32.1
After the crash, Homan found himself in a place that seemed alive with chaos. The air itself shimmered with unease; everywhere he looked, people staggered, murmured, or convulsed as if addicted to some invisible poison. The walls pulsed with a sickly glow, and he realized this place was more than strange — it was alive with madness.
He stepped into a crowded bar. Eyes turned toward him, scanning him with unnatural precision. The bartender, a tall man whose eyes burned red like molten coals, stopped polishing a glass to stare.
"Are you even old enough to be here?" the bartender asked, his voice low but cutting.
Homan nodded, lifting his visor. "Eighteen."
He glanced around. One wall was plastered with wanted posters — and there it was: his face, his name, labeled "PREY." Before he could react, the room erupted. Figures lunged at him in a blur, and a sharp, electrical jolt ripped through his mind.
The chaos consumed him, darkness swallowing his senses. When he awoke, he was no longer in the bar.
He stood before a throne ablaze with molten fire, the heat rippling the air. On it sat a woman, radiating authority and madness, holding one of his orbs — Imad.
"Who brought me this one?" she purred, eyes flicking to him. "Double the price, I say."
She rose, moving toward him, hands reaching for his helmet. He resisted — and then froze, paralyzed as her gaze pierced him the glowing Blazing eyes of hers, stripping away the will to fight.
When her eyes met his face, the woman gasped.
"My… baby? No, it can't be."
Homan shoved her back, voice sharp as steel. "Who are you? Don't claim any association with me."
The woman hesitated, then softened, her gaze troubled. "I am… your mother. Goddess of Madness. You are… a demi-sin — a child of sin. Your father…"
As she explained who his father and what he is
Shock crashed over him. "So… my father… the king? And Bubezleeb — actually Beelzebub? How… how did I not notice? Why was I so foolish?"he was confused weirded and doesn't know how to react everything doesn't go as he wanted
Memories assaulted him — flashes of being forced into the armor at fourteen, learning to wield the orb as if it were his own strength. Now he understood: the orb was a manifestation of his divine essence, inherited from his mother. The armor had hidden his demonic form; all his life, he had been a demon without knowing it.
He drew a sharp breath, letting rage fill him. With a devastating air slash, he seized the orb and bolted.
Outside the cave, a group blocked him. At the forefront, a striking girl in armor radiated power. She stopped him effortlessly.
"Get the hell out of my way," Homan growled, swinging his greatsword.
She parried with fluid precision, stepping close with a smirk. "Is that how you treat your future wife when you meet her?"
Homan froze. Nightmare spiraled around him: why did everyone speak as though he had already agreed to that? That day is worse day in his life even though Rage and disbelief warred in his chest — yet he realized he could use her to reach the underworld and confront his father.
"I am Lilith," she said, voice firm and seductive. "Princess of Hell, daughter of the Demon King. You were promised to me."
Homan forced a sweet, compliant smile, masking his intent. Trust gained, they descended together
"yes my princess you know what I was thinking about? A date in the demon realm?"whice idea she loved
Inside the underworld, he summoned a blinding fog, obscuring his escape. Step by step, he prepared to face the father he had never truly known.
Did you think we're done? Nuh-uh
32.2 the demon world
After escaping, Homan found himself in the strangest corner of Hell yet. Shadows moved like liquid, and the air pressed cold against his skin. Ahead, a solitary figure drifted, holding a lamp that pulsed with dark light. Souls, restless and wailing, swirled around him, absorbed into the lamp with a sickly, swallowing sound.
Homan approached cautiously. "Excuse me… could you point me somewhere?"
The figure paused, its glow dimming, eyes flickering like dying embers. "Why do you seek directions? And who are you?"
An idea sparked in Homan. He straightened, adopting a commanding tone. "I am the son of the primordial demon Beelzebub. I've been in the mortal realm for a long expedition, conquering mortals in service of the demon world… though I was gone so long I've forgotten my own dwelling."
The figure's gaze narrowed, unconvinced — but he gave a small nod.
"I assume the Demon Palace of Beelzebub has moved since your last visit. I won't fault you for that," he said, extending a hand. "I am Ailos — Demigod of Daikin, the God of Souls. Some call me the Soul Eater. My title is unusual… I am no ordinary demigod, a fusion of demon and god. Officially, the realm refuses my name, but among ourselves, we are known as the Fae."
Homan studied him carefully. There was power here — cold, disciplined, and ancient.
After brief conversation, they found themselves in a graveyard. Tombstones jutted at impossible angles, the soil moving as though alive. Homan's hand lashed out, instinctively aiming for Ailos — thinking betrayal was inevitable. But Ailos swung his lamp like a shovel, forming a glowing barrier that absorbed the strike.
"No," Ailos said calmly. "That's a trick of this place. Unlike the Underworld, the Demon Realm is ever-changing. It shifts randomly. If a place welcomes you, it will transform until it places you in front of your true destination. The realm… does not want—"
Before he could finish, black, writhing souls surged from the graves. Homan fought, slashing and cutting through their forms, while Ailos absorbed the souls into his lamp, forging them into greenish-blue flames.
"We're not welcome," Ailos said, his voice low but steady. "A powerful demon is trying to block our path."
The POV shifted briefly. Far above, Beelzebub lounged lazily at a massive chessboard, moving pieces that manifested as monsters in Homan's path. The pair struggled — every monster they defeated was replaced by a stronger one, as if the board itself had eyes.
Breathing hard, Homan and Ailos ran, weaving through corridors of shifting earth and spectral ruins, until they finally found a brief reprieve. Collapsing on a jagged stone, Homan caught his breath.
Chapter 32.3 necessary
Homan had no choice but to seek help from a strong demon he trusted. He turned to Ailos and explained his delicate relationship with Lilith, the princess of Hell.
Ailos led him through the shifting landscape, shadows crawling over jagged stone, the air thick with heat and whispers of the damned. When Lilith appeared, she smirked knowingly.
"Seems like you've returned to your mistress after realizing how in love you are?" she teased.
Homan nodded, playing along. It was a necessary deceit — she agreed to help him on one condition: a bloody contract.
Homan hesitated, feeling the weight of the ritual. Their blood intertwined, binding them in a pact that made them irrevocably connected. Every heartbeat, every step carried risk. But he needed answers. He nodded, letting her perform the ritual.
Once completed, the world itself seemed to shift in response to her presence. Lilith's command reshaped the terrain, forming the palace of Beelzebub from black stone, molten veins, and spires that scraped a sky of ash.
As they approached, Homan asked cautiously, "As the daughter of the Demon King, can you command the Primordial Demons?"
Lilith shook her head. "No. Primordials are eternals, created by the Dark Terror(Boogeyman) —. They're special, untouchable. Unlike demon kings, whose bloodline chooses royalty by the dark terror, Primordials demons exist beyond hierarchy."
Homan nodded, absorbing the weight of her words.
Inside the palace, Beelzebub sat with casual authority, eyes flicking to Homan. Without preamble, Homan asked the question that had haunted him:
"Why? Why did you pretend to be a god, then die, leaving me the throne and responsibilities of a kingdom at such a young age?"
Beelzebub laughed, the sound both amused and chilling. "I became king of the Kingdom of Sand to prove a point: gods cannot distinguish between a demon and a true god. When I cloned two personas, my godly self was suspected and executed. I gave you what I could — placed you on the ladder of strength. I wanted you to endure hardship, to adapt, to grow wiser."
Homan's mind reeled, absorbing the cold logic. As the conversation unfolded, he learned of siblings he had never known — yet Beelzebub had chosen him to inherit the mantle of Primordial Demon.
A thought struck him. If I become a Primordial, I can grow strong… strong enough to help my team, strong enough to assist Abyss in his plan.
He nodded.
Suddenly, massive horns erupted from his skull, black with a red undertone, marking the demon he had never realized existed. A being who had walked among mortals, thinking himself a god all these time Homan life was a demigod who got his father godly domain became a god and a king, now revealed his true form.
The authority flowed into him, and his horns grew larger, more imposing — Primordial Demon level, a force reshaping the space around him.
Beelzebub yawned lazily, reclined on his throne. "I've given you my authority. Now… I'll return to the Homan world. Time to enjoy myself… and all those beautiful ladies."
And of course stayed behind homan and the daughter of Lucifer Lilith- wait daughter of Lucifer oopse who could have thought she says she's daughter of a demon king(political ruler) just so Homan has his guard down?
The scene shifted abruptly, cutting the POV to Kronos' palace, the Temple of Time.
Inside the shadowed halls of Kronos' Temple of Time, Lance knelt before the Titan, tension coiling in his chest.
"I… I don't want this," Lance said, voice trembling. "I don't want to serve you."
Kronos' eyes glinted, cold and infinite. "Do you truly serve yourself, Lance? Or are you bound by grief and lies?"
Lance stiffened. "What do you mean?"
A slow smile crept across Kronos' face. "Abyss… is not who you think he is. Abyss is Harmonic Cythera."
Time seemed to stop. Lance's chest tightened. Harmonic… dead. He fell from the cliff. The Cyclops… it's impossible.
"Stop lying," Lance barked, gripping the edge of the marble floor. "I saw him fall. I watched him die!"
Kronos laughed "no you didn't watch him you fleed with the group like chicken as he stand behind protecting you you didn't saw him you guys assumed"before he smirk cruelly"very friends thing to do?"
Lance said in defense"bur he was harmonic...I-i didn't think herd of cyclops stood a chance harmonic is strong"
Kronos' gaze pierced him. "i repeat the sense stamina he thought he was invincible stamina his body betrayed him as it ran out of stamina to block the last standing cyclop." as he continues"harmonic is alive Harmonic is abyss isad they both super strong didn't you noticed?"
The weight of revelation crushed Lance. Anger, grief, confusion — it roared inside him. For a heartbeat, he couldn't breathe.
"I… I thought… I thought I lost him," he whispered, knees buckling. "I… I was wrong…"
Kronos extended a hand, his voice silky but commanding. "Serve me. Become my herald. The grief you hold can be sharpened into power. I will give you strength beyond any mortal or demigod."
Lance hesitated, the conflict tearing at him. But the truth of Harmonic's survival, the gift of purpose, and the promise of power broke his resistance. He knelt fully, placing himself in Kronos' control.
"I… I accept," Lance murmured. "Make me your herald."
Kronos' lips curved into a smile. "Good. Then let the wheels of time begin." Kronos then though to himself mentally "the kid abyss would be a problem maybe the only who can stop me but I should try to know how to beat him in different way" fist tighten as he tremble