Lyle.

A simple word.

A name, a designation.

But in that tainted voice, it was not so.

[Lyle]

It was a hint.

It was a spell.

It was a switch.

A switch that toggled between the weak and the powerful, a line that divided hope from fear.

The power of Hell blazed upon the body, like cast iron returning to the furnace that forged it, revealing its true form.

Fear, intermingled with chaotic will, formed His incarnation.

His name was [Lyle], His power was fear, His shape was an omen.

The intensely rich power of Hell congealed into a sediment of malice, spreading beneath His feet to form a black pool.

His slender, emaciated body, like a dried reed, had elongated limbs resembling withered branches. There He stood still, His head ignited by the power of Hell, ethereal and insubstantial, while that insidious laughter seemed to come from nowhere.

Gazing, Gogallan Black Abyss felt a gaze, a malice coming from all directions. Just like that mocking laughter, it seemed to originate from within himself. The Prince of the Black Abyss felt his heart palpitate, a fear born from instinct was taking shape inside him.

That terror of facing the unknown sacrilege was assaulting the Demon Race’s sanity.

"Giggle giggle giggle giggle giggle..."

The towering black figure did nothing but stand there, issuing a terrifying laugh.

No, he couldn’t wait any longer. With every passing second, Gogallan felt a breath closer to the suffocation of fear. He was confronting fear, falling into fear.

Suppressing the fragile emotions deep within his heart, the eyes of the Prince of the Black Abyss turned cold again.

"Burn, Demon Blood."

The magic runes on Gogallan’s chest shone with a lava-like red glow, the temperature that had been suppressed again and again finally rose. The pain of burning flesh lessened the fear and triggered the demon’s instinct for rage.

"So that’s how it is, Plague Doctor, so Lyle is your real name... I must say, this oppression is quite a gift," the gloom on Gogallan’s face dissipated, replaced by a frenzied smile, as if he were possessed. "You truly are a worthy adversary, Lyle!"

"Face my wrath!!!"

"Annihilation Strike!"

Gogallan, poised once more, swung his fist, the Prince of the Black Abyss ablaze with flames, striking like a meteor on the fragile body akin to rotten wood.

The entire plane vibrated tremendously.

Crack... crackle.

The giant, wrapped in the power of Hell, broke in two from the center, like a pair of chopsticks snapped apart.

Crack... crackle.

Lyle felt a splitting headache, clutching his head, he awoke from the pain.

Opening his eyes, he observed the strange scenery around him.

It was a hazy sky tinged with a ghastly green aurora, and there he was, floating in such a starry space.

Where is this? Wasn’t I fighting Gogallan in Hell? Is the fight over?

Lyle quickly checked his body, intact, each organ stayed in its place. No damage, no missing parts. As if nothing had ever happened.

A bad feeling came over Lyle.

Don’t tell me, was I killed by Gogallan’s punch? Could this be Heaven? No, why isn’t Mr. Raymond here?

With a crackling sound, the pain that felt like internal renovations once again pulled his mind back to reality.

He was definitely still alive, it certainly wouldn’t hurt if he was dead.

Regaining his composure, Lyle began to observe his surroundings, a curious sense of familiarity surged up. He seemed to know this place, everything here, the stars here, but he could not articulate why.

Lyle began to search his memory for that familiar feeling.

Flipping through memories, he really found it.

Stone Sculpture Fragment, Soul Reaver, Land of Souls.

This place was the Land of Souls, and it seemed that it still belonged to his own.

It appeared that due to his own shock, his consciousness had accidentally entered the Land of Souls. He had to get out quickly; if Gogallan smashed his physical body, he would only have two choices: death or becoming a ghost. Although Alianna would certainly not reject him, wasn’t it better to simply be a human?

Thinking, Lyle started to pull his consciousness upwards, following the ritual he remembered.

But then, he was blocked. He was trapped in the Soul Space and another consciousness had taken over his body. Lyle couldn’t get out! What was happening!

Before Lyle could start to worry, his head started to hurt again, and this time, it was the excruciating pain of his skull cracking open.

It really cracked open! Lyle watched in amazement as his Soul Space split with a fissure that appeared amidst the stars. From the gap, black sludge was poured into his Soul Space.

What’s happening! Why is there mud in my mind!

The black filth stained everything it touched, gradually blackening Lyle’s will completely.

This was the Power of Fear! Very concentrated Power of Fear, and he could use it too?!

Feeling the high-density "gas" roll under his command, Lyle didn’t know if it was a good or bad thing.

If he could use the power of Hell, could his physical body also regenerate as fast as the Demon Race’s?

Hell Plane.

Gogallan was kneeling on the ground, panting heavily.

Fear crept up his cheeks as if an invisible pair of hands was strangling his throat, and he was close to suffocating.

At the Prince of the Black Abyss’ side, a black "forest" materialized.

Gogallan’s attack had indeed shattered the giant. However, the two broken pieces, like dividing cells, generated two whole beings. They emitted creepy laughter as if mocking his brute force. Fear was pressing down on his senses, driving him insane. He swung his fists hysterically, destroying all the black shadows in front of him, shattering them into countless fragments amidst the laughter.

Thus, on the barren land of Hell, a forest of withered branch giants grew, encircling the Prince of the Black Abyss, emitting a terrifying laughter.

As the strength of Hell dissipated from his body, Gogallan realised what these bad omens were doing.

They were excavating Hell, devouring fear, plundering the entire Hell Plane’s Power of Fear. Yet the children of Hell, the Demon Race, could do nothing but become hunchbacked prisoners under the shadow of fear.

They seized the Demon Race’s essence, commanding fear as if soldiers submitted to a monarch.

Or rather, they were the embodiment of fear itself.

All Demon Race contestants, alive or dead, those souls in the midst of rebirth, were held in their hands.

They occupied power, took over the entire Hell Plane and became the coal tycoon of the Hell’s "gas" pipeline.

Despair was born beneath the shadow of fear.

With great difficulty, Gogallan lifted his head to look at the formless summit, the head of the monster, or rather the Evil God.

"What... what do you want?"

The giggling stopped, and the desolate Hell Plane didn’t even let out a whimper of the wild wind.

All of Hell turned into an ancient and eerie pantomime.

Then, the Fear Giants surrounding Gogallan extended their arms, as if offering a grand salutation at the start of a performance.

In Lyle’s own voice, they spoke.

"Hell blooms."

"No!!!!!!"

Accompanied by Gogallan’s fearful scream, the giants threw a match into their "gas" pipeline. Starting from the central volcano, the entire Hell Plane began to crack, shatter, explode. From beneath the rock strata, countless massive black tentacles covered in sludge reached out towards the dark sky, venting their endless greed and curse.

Layer by layer it shattered, layer by layer tentacles pierced the surface, beginning their violent performance.

Entire Hell was engulfed in the carnival of its demise.

Not another scream could be heard, since every member of the Demon Race had been twisted into a part of the tentacle mass by the black flesh.

The Hell Plane completely collapsed, and huge tentacles were born from the cracks, twisting around the heralds of doom, like magnificent giant petals.

The Hell’s Flower had bloomed.