Seven Sins System Chapter 730. Puriel's Confession II
Seven Sins System Chapter 730. Puriel's Confession II
Puriel turned her head slightly. Her posture was still tall, radiant, calm, but I could feel the tension in her wrist. Her grip on my hand had tightened… like she needed to ground herself with someone who wouldn’t flinch if she said the wrong thing.
“You need to know,” she said quietly. “Because this… this bond between me and Azrael? It wasn’t some whim. It wasn’t rebellion. It was a thread of fate… and maybe…”
Her voice dropped a little.
“Maybe someone is making that hybrid. To make a god by synthetic means. Through pieces. Through scraps. Through artificial rituals. But this?” She lifted our hands again, letting the golden thread shimmer between us. “This is real. We didn’t stitch it together in a lab.”
The hybrid’s unconscious body on the floor didn’t stir. But I felt every eye shift toward it like it was holding its breath. Like it could hear.
I cleared my throat. “Look, if my children are going to lead the mortal realm one day, then I’ll be the one to inject some logic into it.”
My tentacles flicked, curling like smoke above the floor, the tips twitching like they wanted to write equations midair.
“A lot of logic. Like, seriously. The mortals need it.”
Asmo whistled low. “He’s turning into Mamon.”
Mamon didn’t look up from his tablet. “I’m flattered. Keep going.”
I smirked. “What I mean is, at least this is natural. Not built in a bottle. Not brewed like some monster soup. If this whole mess is about divinity in mortals, then we sure as hell better be showing them real unity. Not some Frankenstein bastard child that eats light and shits faith.”
Beel coughed mid-bite, nearly choking on his burger.
“Devils below, Az,” Luci muttered, sipping his wine. “Romantic and vulgar. You really are growing up.”
“Shut up,” I grunted, but didn’t deny it.
The Virtues? Oh, they didn’t like that one bit.
Temperance folded her arms. “It’s still a violation of sacred order. No matter how ‘natural’ it may seem to you.”
“Sacred order got us ignored for centuries while the cults brewed in basements,” Levi said lazily, tossing a grape into his mouth like he was watching a trashy mortal soap opera. “I say it’s about time we switched gears.”
Charity shook her head. “You’re encouraging sin.”
“I’m sin. And I’m encouraging survival,” I snapped. “Your moral high ground won’t mean much when those hybrids start reproducing.”
That got a wince. Even Justice shifted uncomfortably.
Asmo raised his hand like he was in school. “Uh. Counterpoint. What if the hybrid already reproduced? Like… we talking sexually viable?”
Lily burst out laughing. “Oh please, let it be. Imagine the scandal. Daddy was an angel. Mommy was a lab experiment. The kid gets top-tier trauma and wings.”
“That’s not funny,” Justice barked.
“It’s a little funny,” Belph muttered sleepily into his pillow. “Weirdly hot too.”
“Thank you, Belph,” I deadpanned.
“You’re welcome.”
Temperance finally spoke, her voice small. “But… if people see you two together… if they worship that… isn’t that what you’re afraid of? That they’ll try to make gods in your image?”
Puriel looked at her. Her hand squeezed mine tighter.
“They already do,” she said. “With others. With lies. With broken relics and blood rituals.”
I smirked. “But maybe… if they see this, real fate, real unity, they’ll stop looking for shortcuts.”
“Or they’ll just start trying to marry more demons,” Asmo said, still smug. “In which case, I volunteer to open the dating apps.”
“No,” Diablo and I said together.
“You two are getting really synchronized lately,” Lily hummed. “Adorable.”
Mamon finally lifted his eyes. “I agree with Azrael. In principle. If divine unity is what’s missing… then maybe this is a step in the right direction.”
“Same,” Beel mumbled around another bite. “If we don’t take control of the narrative, the cults will.”
“Exactly,” I said, pointing at him. “That’s the thing none of you Virtues seem to grasp. These cults didn’t bloom from nowhere. They were starved into existence. You kept mortals hungry for salvation and fed them dogma. Then you’re surprised when they stitched a new god out of scraps?”
“You speak like one of them,” Justice growled.
I snorted. “Because I studied them. Watched them. Lived among them for… sometimes while they prayed to you and got nothing. I don’t need to be mortal to understand what desperation smells like. I was raised in Hell, but even I know silence when I hear it.”
Even Diablo didn’t speak then.
The silence that fell wasn’t awkward. It was heavy. Honest.
Puriel stepped closer, her voice soft now. “That’s why we told you. Not for politics. Not for power. Because if someone is really trying to create a god through synthetic means, the best thing we can do is show what the real thing looks like.”
“And if they reject it?” Kindness asked quietly.
“Then they were never worth saving,” I said.
I meant it.
Mamon hummed. “I’ll draft a PR plan.”
“Of course you will,” Asmo snorted.
“And I’ll monitor the data from the hybrid’s soul fragments,” Mamon added, flicking his tablet. “There’s still patterns I don’t like. Something else is guiding this design. Something sentient.”
“That’s concerning,” Fortitude muttered.
Asmo leaned back. “Hey, Puriel.”
Puriel looked over.
“Just curious. Is he a good kisser?”
Puriel blushed.
I groaned. “We’re done here.”
Diablo smiled, slow and ominous like a man who enjoyed dragging out meetings just to watch people suffer. “Not yet. But we’re getting somewhere.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Not done?”
He didn’t answer with words, just tilted his chin toward the polished marble floor.
The hybrid.
The lump of limbs and wings and too many wrong prayers sewn together. Still unconscious. Still pulsing faintly with unstable energy like a bomb someone stitched out of trauma and divine leftovers.
I cringed. “Oh. Right.”
My tentacles twitched, reacting to the thing instinctively. They didn’t like it. None of them. It wasn’t fear. It was more like disgust, like touching something that tried to mimic life without understanding what it actually meant.