My Soul card is a Reaper-Chapter 959: A few weeks later

The corridors were cold and bright, lined with pale lights that never flickered.

Strange robots walked past him without acknowledgement, many-legged machines that scanned samples, tall, thin bots adjusting dials, carrying metal trays. They all felt alive yet strangely blind to him.

Eventually, he reached a reinforced door, taller than the others, humming with locked energy. As he approached, the scanner beside it lit up.

"Identity verification initiated. Please step forward."

Azrael blinked and hesitated for a split second.

The scanner swept across his face, then his palm.

A soft chime rang.

"Identity confirmed: Azrael Crescent Garcia. Access granted."

Azrael froze. "What?" But then he clenched his fists and grit his teeth, "This damn bastard. He even changed my identity and went to such lengths, giving his surname in order to convince me..."

"Forget about him. Just focus on the task, kid." As the devil’s whisper echoed in his head, he pushed the door. Unlike what he expected, the machine actually couldn’t tell the difference between him and Azzy, because their faces, their retina, and even their DNA were a perfect match.

He stepped inside.

This chamber was colder, darker, and filled with humming machinery. Cylindrical glass pods lined each wall, reaching from floor to ceiling like giant coffins. Inside each one floated a body suspended in thick, translucent purple fluid.

Six clones of Belial, each with the same twisted demonic features, the same black veins spreading across their pale skin, the same chilling aura even under the liquid seal.

Machines were attached to their limbs and temples, monitoring their condition, extracting samples, running energy through them, perhaps even altering them. A handful of robot scientists hovered around the pods, scribbling data or running scans.

However, not a single one of them looked at Azrael.

He felt a chill crawl up his spine.

Six of them... six Belials, he thought.

Then Lucifer’s laughter echoed inside his mind, smooth, amused, far too delighted. "Well, well... you are fortunate today, Azrael," Lucifer purred. "You seek one avatar, yet you found six instead. Perfect. You need to absorb all of them..."

Azrael tightened his fists.

Azrael’s breath hitched. "Absorb them? But how? This collar restricts my powers, and anything I do will bring attention and I also."

Lucifer interrupted. "That’s why, you won’t act now. Not yet.

Azrael grit his teeth. As much as he hated admitting it, Lucifer was right.

"So what do I do?"

"You gain trust," Lucifer said softly. "Play along. Walk away. Pretend you saw nothing important. Then later... when the moment comes... You will claim what these clones hold."

Azrael took a slow breath and stepped back carefully, making sure not to attract the robots’ attention. The room felt heavier as he turned around, almost like the six Belials were watching him from inside those tanks.

He left without another word.

As he returned to the dorm Azzy had provided, every step was measured, controlled, disciplined. No sudden movements. No suspicious glances. As soon as he shut the door behind him, he released a long breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

Lucifer whispered, "Good. Very good. You controlled yourself." 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

Azrael lay down on the bed, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

For now... he would wait.

Meanwhile, in the Control Room

Dr. Mac leaned back in her rotating chair, a pen tapping against her temple as data streamed across the screens.

One of her monitors displayed Azrael walking through the corridor, then entering the clone chamber. She watched his surprise, the way his expression changed, the way his fingers curled in instinctive hunger before he forced them still.

"Hm..." She narrowed her eyes. "So this is the time variant."

Her fingers danced across the controls, zooming in slightly on Azrael’s face before he turned away from the capsule pods.

"He hides his intentions well... but not well enough."

She tapped the pen again, eyes thoughtful.

"When he saw those clones, his shock shifted into greed. Very fast." She sighed quietly. "Azzy told me this one has demonic power. I guess it’s true, he was tempted to absorb their essence."

A faint smile tugged at her lips, not mocking, but analytical, like a scientist watching an experiment begin to unfold.

"But he managed to restrain himself. That’s good."

Her eyes sharpened as she switched screens.

"Let’s observe him a little more. See how deep that demonic influence goes."

The monitors hummed softly as she leaned back, folding her arms.

"Will he break... or will he survive it?"

Only time, and Azzy’s next move, would answer that.

*

Four weeks slipped by like sand through fingers.

For 17-year-old Azrael, those weeks felt both long and strangely hollow. He lived in Dr. Mac’s massive underground facility, moving between sterile hallways, observation rooms, and the dorm she assigned him.

The collar remained around his neck, humming day and night. It was his constant reminder that he was still a guest and a prisoner.

At first, Azzy wanted to take him away after seeing that Azrael was behaving and acting nice, but then, two weeks into his arrival, as Dr. Mac insisted that keeping Azrael for study was essential, as she wanted data on his demonic essence, the strange black lightning that flickered in his core, and the half-fused soul that carried Lucifer’s presence, Azzy agreed.

Lucifer was thrilled as Azzy no longer came to the lab to see Azrael during the past couple of weeks. At the same time, Dr. Mac made a deal with him secretly, knowing the 17-year-old’s intentions.

Dr. Mac gave complete access to Azrael. He can train, walk around, and do anything he wants. No one will restrict his movements. And after 10 weeks of cooperation, Dr. Mac will give one vial of Belial’s essence, extracted from one of the clones. In return, she would want his blood every day, not much, just a bit, so that she can study how his powers work.

With Lucifer’s consent, Azrael accepted the deal.

*

Outside the lab, out there in the world of Gaia, with only two weeks left before the Hidden Clan Tournament, the entire administration of Country Genesis was buzzing like an awakened hive.

This country, surrounded by New Camelot, was the pride of the hidden clans. It represented unity, secrecy, and absolute technological dominance. It was the headquarters of their combined lineage, their future meetings, and the site of every major hidden clan decision going forward.

Protected by Dr. Mac’s barrier system and supported by New Camelot’s stealth towers, Genesis survived entirely outside the eyes of the world. No other nation could spy on it. No satellite could penetrate its shield. Only the satellites of Camelot were allowed to pass.

And following Azzy’s directions, Sector 0, the heart of Genesis, had seen a prestigious project of construction of a University that spanned five thousand acres with dorms, arenas, laboratories, and training centers. But its doors remained closed.

Azzy planned to unveil it after the tournament, only when all clans were present, unified, and watching.

*

Another week has passed.

One week before the tournament, all clan representatives had arrived at the grand Arena, except for one. The Death Clan.

Their absence was starting to draw eyes. The rules were clear: each clan had a limited window before it had to present its chosen representatives. Only three days remained before the Death Clan had to send someone, and within those three days, the last day was ticking away too fast.

Inside the Death Clan’s throne room, Azzy sat on the elevated seat, elbows resting lightly on the armrests, expression unreadable.

The grand hall was filled with the quiet shuffle of robes and muffled breaths. The elder council stood in a semi-circle before him. Affea was at the front, her gaze sharp and voice tighter than usual.

"Your Majesty," she said formally, "we have only seven hours left before the deadline you set. If you allow me, I will personally go to the Tower of Abel and bring Orion here."

Azzy didn’t lift his head. His voice was steady, calm. "No."

Affea blinked. "Your Majesty?"

"If Orion does not wish to participate," Azzy said, "he doesn’t have to come. Participation must be voluntary."

"But..." Affea’s frustration cracked through her voice. "We sent the letter to the Tower. We explained everything. And yet he has not replied at all. If he didn’t want to participate, he should have simply written back that he declines."

Azzy exhaled slowly. He didn’t show his emotions, but inside, he felt a dull ache. Orion... what are you thinking? Why are you silent?

He had left Orion in the care of the Moon Clan with trust. He knew the boy was shaken by Alexander, by Naamah’s abduction, by the seal that nearly devoured him. Maybe Orion needed time. Maybe he needed peace. Azzy accepts whatever decision his son makes.

"I will not force him," Azzy repeated.

Affea lowered her head, suppressing her frustration.

The other elders exchanged uneasy glances but said nothing. None dared challenge the leader’s decision, not with the mood in the hall, not with Azzy’s aura simmering beneath the calm surface.

But their silence was heavy, filled with worry.

Because the Death Clan was the only clan left without any representatives. And time was running out.