The Titles of Angra Ba'ahram Ch. 01

This imposing figure was the Angra, the unquestionable emperor of all 666 world of the Abyss. This was Angra Ba'ahram, Conqueror of Women, The Last Incubus, Sovereign of the Crimson Isles, Lord of Lust, Savior of the Reluctant Bride, The Insatiable One, Goddess-Breaker, Purity's Bane, The Banished Lord, He Who Has Returned, Sire of Armies, Slayer of Angra Ba'ator.

At the moment, the Angra's hooked talon was tapping faster against the darksteel floor as his impatience grew. His lower pair of arms was folded across his broad chest. One of the upper pair propped his head up, elbow on the arm of the throne and his chin resting upon his balled fist, the other hand tapping impatiently on the arm of the throne. His silver eyes stared toward the arch of the door, the heavy, dropping door awaiting his signal. He was so tired of waiting. He did not enjoy spending time in the fortress. No amount of redecorating could fully eclipse the boring, angular prison this it was designed to be. Everything was hard and cold, unlike his countless pleasure palaces amid the Crimson Isles, where his faithful succubi eagerly awaited the chance to serve his every whim. But here, they were replaced with the Spawn, and with them gone, so were the mouth-watering meals, the luxuriant massages, the tight, needy holes... He sighed with annoyance, glancing to the angels to either side of him. His angelic pets were the reason he was here when he could be sinking into a hot tub and sinking into a succubi at the same time. Were they worth it? Without question.

There came a roar, echoing through the halls of the fortress. He grinned, straightening up in his throne. Suddenly, there were the sounds of violence, rapidly growing closer. There was a sudden, sharp whine of pain, quickly cut off, a heavy, wet thud sounding an instant later. He shook his horns. Acceptable losses. There was silence for another moment. The spawn guarding the door roared, just out of sight, then an instant later flew backwards past the archway, another heavy thump sounding as his body struck the far wall of the hall. It was time. The angra gestured, and there was a sudden whirring as that massive guillotine gate was released, several tons of unbreakable darksteel suddenly freefalling down its track to seal off the inner sanctum and plummeting toward its locking seat. Then it suddenly stopped dead, less than a foot from the ground. A delicate, pale-skinned hand gripped the bottom edge of the door. The hand didn't seem to care how much the door weighed, casually lifting it until it was high enough to walk under, then just as casually stepping through and letting it fall closed afterward, the heavy crash making the whole room jolt momentarily. The figure now locked in the room with the three of them looked exactly like the two kneeling beside his throne, except for the fact that her hair had no braids, her silky, lightweight platinum blonde tresses flowing behind her in a curtain, and, perhaps more obviously, that she was in full combat gear.

Celestium armor and weapons stood out sharply, metallic white with golden inlays, standing in stark contrast to the gleaming black darksteel all around, even marred as it was with splatters of dark red-black ichor. Celestium is not a particularly strong metal, about on par with steel, but slightly lighter and more flexible. Its main advantage is its ability to self-repair, swiftly mending its own dings, dents, tears, and punctures, even shattered celestium items able to restore themselves as long as the pieces are brought together. But for an angel, that didn't matter, their armor more decorative than functional. The only vaguely functional pieces were the gauntlets and the greaves, standard designs that extended up to the elbow and knee, respectively, though the greaves bore a perilous six-inch, wickedly spiked heel, designed to give them a weapon while in the air and help finish off foes on the ground.

The rest of the armor was little more than metallic lingerie with thick straps, shaped to hug the body and cut to expose as much skin as possible, with extraneous shoulder-pads and hip-plates fastened on. The only other armor was her helmet, which would have served well if it covered anything below the nose. The face portion was lovingly sculpted into an emotionless angel's face, the eyes empty to expose her sapphire eyes, glaring with a cold hatred. The back portion of the helmet hugged her skull, but left an ample gap at the base in the rear, to allow her hair to cascade out. Over the ears, carefully sculpted feathery wings emerged from the helmet, sweeping back. With one arm, she carried a wide, circular shield with an image of golden wings on it's surface. In the other hand, she gripped the haft of a halberd taller than her, an axe-blade on one side, a wicked hook on the other, and a long, spiraling point thrusting well past the edge of the axe blade.

Fortunately for the angels, their armor didn't need to be effective, just impressive. In truth, even naked, an angel would be more than enough of a challenge. Whoever first designed them, whether it was the Great One, as he claims, or some unknown architect, an angel is one of the most dangerous creatures in the multiverse. On top of an aetheric metabolism that allows them to sustain themselves indefinitely and heal from nearly any injury as long as they have access to aether, they're stronger pound-for-pound than any other creature in the multiverse, they have a skeletal structure that is stronger than any other organic material, and when struck their skin instantly hardens into armor that's both harder and more flexible than steel. Their broad wings not only serve as aether-collectors, they actually propel the angel with aether, allowing them to hover weightlessly without flapping, soar through the void between worlds, and even warp space to travel faster than should be possible.

The newcomer certainly pulled off impressive. More than six feet tall standing, the intruder's spiked heels floated an inch off the floor, her wide, glowing white wings spread, giving her a much larger presence as she glared through the emotionless visor, a billowing curtain of platinum blonde floating behind her. She looked serious, imposing, ready for battle, but still heroic, feminine, and attractive. An angel's appearance was important, as each and every one served the Great One as ambassador, missionary, judge, symbol, peacekeeper, and warrior. Angels follow the One Path, the sacred philosophy based upon the commands of the mysterious Great One, with slavish devotion, spreading and enforcing His word throughout the multiverse. The angelic host tirelessly converts unenlightened races to follow the One Path, to walk with the Great One into a utopian future where the flames of evil, sin, and ego are extinguished, where all beings are equal in service of the Great One. Those that reject enlightenment or seek to oppose the Great One are deemed 'unworthy' and exterminated without remorse. Demons have long been named unworthy, but the 666 worlds of the Abyss are one of the few realms with the military power to oppose the angelic host successfully. The threat of an entire host upon one of the 666 worlds is enough to cause the demons to set aside their differences and band together.

The angel leveled her weapon at the Angra, a cold hatred in her icy blue eyes as she stood before him, a single flying lunge away from ending the demon emperor. She spoke only three words, imbuing each syllable with all the frosty spite it could possibly contain. "Release. My. Sisters."

The Angra was silent for a long moment, looking the intruder up and down, seemingly unconcerned with her implied threat. Slowly, his lower arms came uncrossed, and reached forward. From each forefinger slid a razor-sharp claw, and with a flick of his wrists, the black leather straps of the leashed fell slack, neatly sliced from the loops they were tied to. He retracted the claws and leaned back in this throne, casually. "Girls, you are free. If you wish, to leave, you may go, and my guards will stand down. If you wish your weapons and armor returned, it shall be done. If you wish to kill me, well, I will have to defend myself, but that's a choice too. Your choices are your own." He told them, not looking to either, keeling his gaze locked with the armed intruders.

The angels to his sides rose to their feet, still naked, their untethered leashes dangling limp as they looked to the demon upon the throne with surprise. They seemed hesitant for a moment, glancing first to their armed sister, as she stood by with weapon ready for treachery, then back to the Angra, and finally to each other. Their gazes locked for a long moment a silent conversation in their eyes, before they nodded as one and stepped in front of the throne. They turned their backs to the Angra, standing shoulder to shoulder, and face their sister. "We choose to stay." The one-braided angel announced, firmly.

The armored angel was silent for a moment, lips slightly parted, her expression mostly hidden behind the mask on her face. Then her lips twisted into a furious snarl, her grip tightening on her weapon as she shifted her stance slightly. Her eyes slid off her sisters, to the gap between them where the Angra's head was visible, glaring daggers at the foul corruptor. "You... you've corrupted my sisters, demon." She spat the word demon like a curse. "I don't know how you managed to push them from the One Path. Did you whisper your lies to them until they could no longer see the truth? Did you infect their hearts with your vile demonic taint? Or perhaps my sisters do not stand before me, only illusions, or worse, puppets of your wicked magic?" She accused, disgusted and infuriated by the vile methods she imagined. She took a breath, forcing herself to calm down. "It doesn't matter. The only punishment fit for a monster like you is death. I will end your miserable life, foul one, and then I will purify my sisters of your wicked influence." She finished. In that same instant, she leapt, rising effortlessly until she got a good angle on the demon. Her wings suddenly glowed brighter, a ripple forming in the air as she suddenly dove across the room with her spear-point leading the way, darting faster than should be possible as she lanced toward the demon lord's heart.

Then all was still again for an instant. The weapon's point hovered just inches from Ba'ahram's obsidian skin, quivering slightly. Each of the naked angels gripped the offending weapon's shaft with one hand, holding it back from its intended target almost effortlessly, the weapon's shaft bowed under the immense forces at play. Their armored sibling gaped with shock. The stillness broke as the two took advantage of their sibling's surprise. Like a striking serpent, one's arm lashed out, slamming into the already-straining shaft of the weapon, the celestium shattering under the impact. Before their armored sister could react, they dropped the now-useless head of the spear, and were in the air before it hit the ground, wings shining as the pair flew into their sister in a double-takedown that launched the three nubile forms across the room to slam into the far wall.

The struggle was brief, a few hasty seconds of fluttering wings and feminine grunts. Against the combined strength of two warriors her equal, the newcomer was swiftly subdued. The two-braided angel pressed her naked body tight against the armored one's back, sliding between her wings and pinning the feathery limbs down between them. Her limbs coiled around the prisoner's in a double shoulder lock as she brought the two of them down to the darksteel dias before the throne. As they touched ground, she hooked her heels on the prisoner's ankles and tore them out from under her, forcing them both to kneel on the cool, hard surface. The intruder thrashed and growled helplessly, unable to break the solid grip of her sibling, giving up the struggle to lash out with her sharp tongue. "You DEFEND him!? This filthy, unworthy abomination, this demon?! Your captor, your slaver?! And you fight your own sister to do it! How could he have turned you from the One Path, how could he control you like this?" She demanded, incredulous at her siblings, her lips twisting into a snarl of rage. "I swear, as soon as I am free, I will break your hold over them and then I will ERASE you from this world! I will scour you and all traces of your legacy from the multiverse if it takes me all of eternity! However you managed to control my sisters, I will make sure that none will dare to attempt it again!" She spat her promise with unbridled fury, lunging against the iron grip of her sister.

The demon lord grinned, pushing himself up from his throne to tower over the three angels, shaking his head softly. "And that is where you seem to misunderstand your circumstance. I don't control my pets. Well, at least, not in the way you seem to have convinced yourself." He sighed, as though explaining some sort of obvious triviality to a mere child. "In fact, I would say your vaunted 'Great One' has more control over you than I do over my pets. He leads you along the 'One Path', after all, where every decision is made for you. Those who follow the path are led to fight and kill and die, to destroy those who do not follow the path, to bring more and more souls to the path, to deny their own ego and follow the path. To stray from the path is evil. To question the path is to stray from the path. To hesitate on the path is to question the path. This 'Great One' claims to simply be the first upon the 'One Path', revealing it's course to his followers as he in turn follows it. And yet, the path seems to lead his followers to destroy his enemies, to strengthen his armies, to turn over their possessions and wealth to him..." He explained, pacing and gesturing with increasing fervor, before he suddenly paused, realizing he was beginning to rant, and shook his head again.

He reached out with one massive obsidian hand, fingers delicately caressing the cheek of his unoccupied pet, before slipping under her chin and steering her gaze to meet his eyes. "The longer one follows the path, the harder it becomes to see the alternatives. The path gives wide berth to all the greatest experiences of life, forbids one from experiencing the joys of life itself. All I did was show them what the path denied. Pleasure. Choice. Freedom." He explained, pausing to kiss the one-braided angel for a long moment, his tongue coiling and dancing around hers before their lips parted and he continued. "My pets do not defend me because I ordered them to, because I manipulated them to, or because their path demands it. They chose to defend me because that is what they wanted to do. Perhaps it's motivated by gratitude, or nobility, or simply lust. Why they chose is not important. The choice is." He explained, turning to the captive. "They may wear my collar, they may obey my commands, they may submit themselves to me, they may even crave what I can offer them. But they are always, always, free."

The grappled angel struggled against her sister's all-but-unbreakable grip, twisting her body violently to wrench herself free, to little effect. As the demon finished his monologue, she spat a bitter retort. "As though anything that pours from the lips of a demon could be anything but filth! You may have tainted my sisters with your blasphemous lies, but you will never turn me from the One Path!" she snarled, defiant.

Angra Ba'ahram sighed with disappointment, shaking his head. "This one is almost as stubborn as you two were." He commented, glancing between his pets, who offered a shy smile in return. He shifted, standing over the kneeling angel, his gaze locked with hers. "Very well, then, it seems you will need a demonstration. Let us see what you truly desire..." He smirked. Her eyes widened when she saw the eyelid on his forehead open slowly. The third eye was an orb of polished onyx, with a shimmering silver iris aimed at her, focusing in and out as it peered through her, looking into her mind, her soul. She suddenly thrashed more violently, her struggles meaningless against the unerring gaze of his third eye as it stared into the vault of her soul, where she locked away her deepest, darkest secrets, those she hid away and denied to everyone, even to herself. Emotions, doubts, uncomfortable truths, desires... The demon lord grinned as his gaze fell upon exactly what he was looking for. "Ohh, yes, that will do nicely..." He muttered as the eyelid slowly slid shut. He glanced to his pets, the one-braided and the two-braided. "One and Two, why don't you welcome your sister. Remove her armor and show Zero here what she's been missing." He commanded, turning to the braid-less prisoner and grinning. One and two nodded obediently, even as the newly-named Zero gaped, flabbergasted.

"Names?!" Zero demanded, incredulous and terrified. "You have strayed too far from the One Path, sisters! 'My angels are as one, a single soul shared among them. Never shall the host be divided by name nor rank nor duty, for all my angels are equal as sisters in all things. Let any who sets herself apart be destroyed, for they have abandoned their soul'. The host will destroy you! Destroy us all!" She pleaded, as though they only had to be reminded of the commandments to return to the path.

One and Two ignored her pleas, in very different ways. One glanced to her master with a look of surprise, only to receive a reassuring nod in return. Two smirked at the order, her tender pink tongue flicking out to wet her plush lips as she shifted her grip slightly. Her neck craned forward, her lips puckering gently as the two-braided angel planted a tender kiss on the sensitive nape of her sister's neck, right on the tender spot that always made her shiver. Zero's body petrified, a fresh accusation of corruption dying on her gently parted lips as an unfamiliar shiver danced up and down her spine. Her breath caught in her throat, the faintest squeaky whimper making its way past her lips. Then she was alive again, thrashing wildly now, whipping her head back and forth as she wailed in protest. "No! No no no no! This isn't right! He's twisted your minds! Corrupted you! We're sisters! Comerades! This is wrong! You can't do this! You can't! I won't! I can't!" She spouted every objection she could think of even as she desperately struggled to escape Two's embrace, escape the touch of a sister's flesh upon hers. The mighty demon Ba'ahram settled back onto his throne, to watch the show to come.

Wordlessly, One stepped forward, sinking to her knees in front of the thrashing new arrival, her unbound leash dangling behind her. Her hands reached up, slowly, ignoring the sister's violent movements to suddenly grip the face-concealing helmet, stopping her head as it whipped side to side, her own strength more than enough to hold it still for long enough to pull it off, revealing Zero's full face for the first time. It was like looking in a mirror, every feature exactly the same, if not for the expression of anger and fear twisting her features. One cast the white and gold helmet aside with a clank, delicate hands coming up to cup Zero's cheeks, lifting the newcomer's gaze to meet hers. Two pairs of sapphire eyes met, gazing into one another's identical orbs for a long moment, Zero's struggles growing weaker, her expression softening as she stared into a face exactly like her own. "Just relax." One half-whispered, her tone soothing as she leaned forward slowly, their faces growing closer and closer together. "Just enjoy it..." she breathed, her warm breath washing over Zero's tender lips an instant before One's lips pressed against them.

Sometimes, on the loneliest nights, when the temptation grew too strong, and only when she was certain she was alone, Zero would press her lips to a mirror and shamefully imagine the kiss of another angel. Just the thought of a sister's lips on hers, a beauty exactly like herself, a strength perfectly matched to her own, a tangle of bodies so alike one couldn't tell where one ended and the other began... It made her body burn with shameful, sinful desire, made her ache deep inside, made her sacred place grow moist. Neither the cold, hard kiss of the angel in the mirror, nor her own imagination could have possibly prepared her for the reality consuming her senses. The touch of One's lips was like an electric shock, her lips burning, her body tensing up in the grip of the current as One's plush, pillowy, pink lips pressed against hers. She could taste her sister's gentle flavor, sweet and delicious like a freshly-plucked berry. Her mind went blank, every neuron engraving this sensation into her brain, her heart thundering in her chest.