the eighth circle
There was no sound as Lucifer rose to the world's surface. There was no flash of savage hellfire, no rendering of the earth's crust or cacophony of black screams echoing from the throats of tormented souls. It was simply that in one instant the fallen archangel was no more than a being of the nonexistence, a name held in time and space by nothing but man's iron belief in God His Father.
And...
