The Dream Coffin split apart like paper. Mirrors shrieked into dust, chains uncoiled into smoke, and Belphegor's domain buckled in on itself.

The Sin of Sloth stumbled backward, his breath ragged, his lethargy drowned by panic. For the first time in eternity, Belphegor's body moved quickly, violently, as if terror alone forced his hand.

"No… No, no, no! This cannot happen! You'll devour everything! You'll unmake Hell itself!"

Taufik tilted its head, molten cracks widening across its formless body. Its layered voice rolled out like a funeral bell:

"Hell… Heaven… all your illusions of permanence. They mean nothing. I am the silence between. The hollow before creation. The hunger after the end. I am… the Defiant Void"

Belphegor roared, his voice breaking apart, more desperate than furious. "Then I'll bury you before you erase ME! … ABSOLUTE DENIAL - SLOTHFUL NIRVANA!!"

He raised both hands. No laziness, no sighing drawl... only raw fear made manifest.

The chamber convulsed. Then... Stillness.

A silence so deep it wasn't absence of sound but the crushing denial of motion itself. The walls ceased their collapse. Ash hung frozen in the air. Even the trembling light of fire stood motionless, as though exhausted.

Taufik, The Defiant Void, stopped. Not frozen, not bound, but gripped by an alien heaviness, a universal reluctance.

Belphegor's chest heaved, and then... laughter. At first, shallow gasps, then bubbling into deranged hysteria, unnatural for the Sin of Sloth. "Ha… ahaha… AHAHAHAHA! Haa~ You surprised me there…"

He dragged himself back upright, his frame hunched yet quivering with exhilaration.

His eyes darted about the chamber, his domain now shrouded in eternal languor. Slothful Nirvana had devoured it all, every motion, every will. The collapse had ceased not because it was undone, but because even ruin itself had grown too weary to continue.

Belphegor spread his arms wide, arrogant, trembling with manic triumph.

"Even Void cannot resist Sloth…" Belphegor's voice oozed laziness, his every word dripping with a mocking serenity. In the Slothful Nirvana, only he could move, drifting between frozen things like a shadow of inevitability.

"Dafient~ O Dafient~ you could have died in bliss, in silence," he drawled, weaving his words like poison. "But you forced me… forced Sloth itself to move. So this is what you get"

His half-lidded eyes narrowed as they locked onto Taufik.

And then... something shifted.

Belphegor froze, his composure cracking. The certainty he always carried, the invincible rule of his Nirvana, wavered. He knew the law: in the Slothful Nirvana, none may move but him. That was his dominion, absolute and unbreakable.

Yet before him, Taufik, the Defiant, the Primal Void had not moved a single muscle. His form remained motionless, statuesque as the others caught in the web of Sloth. But his lips curved wider, his grin spreading like an abyss that mocked the very concept of stillness.

Then it came.

A voice, deep and resonant, yet calm, far too calm for what it meant. A voice that should never have been able to exist here.

"... Really, Belphegor?"

The words struck like a thunderclap in a world of silence. Belphegor's blood ran cold, his very soul recoiling. That voice… it didn't come from lips. It didn't come from breath. It was the Void itself speaking to him.

The Slothful Nirvana trembled.

Then it happened, like a drop of ink falling onto a sheet of pristine white paper, the blackness spread, swallowing everything until the world itself ceased to exist. Belphegor had no time to grasp what was happening; in the span of a heartbeat, everything turned to pitch black.

"... Did you truly believe the Void could not resist Sloth, Belphegor?"

The voice reverberated, smooth yet venomous, echoing from every direction at once.

"Belphegor~ O, Belphegor~ Are you sure you embody Sloth, and not Foolishness? Look around you... This is my realm. I am the Void. I am everything..."

The voice shifted, slithering closer, curling against his thoughts until it whispered directly into his ear:

"... I am everywhere~"

Belphegor's body tensed. His mouth opened to speak-

*Shrackkk!*

A hand burst through his solar plexus from behind. There was no spray of blood, no flesh tearing, just an absence, a hollow wound where existence itself had been denied.

"Ooops~ too late~"

The voice laughed, soft and playful, as the fingers curled within the emptiness inside him.

"T-This..." Belphegor rasped, his arrogance slipping into something he had not felt in eons, fear.

Belphegor looked down in disbelief. The hand that pierced him wasn't solid, it was darkness given form, shifting, writhing, refusing to be defined.

His mouth opened, but no words came out. His sin, his very nature, Sloth, which rendered everything still, should have bound even concepts themselves.

Yet here, inside this endless black, he realized, Sloth could not touch what had no definition.

"...T-This… impossible…"

The voice chuckled, echoing from every direction and none.

"Impossible? Belphegor, I am impossibility itself"

The black hand twisted, and from within the wound spread an even deeper darkness, not absence but consumption. Belphegor could feel it gnawing at his essence, unraveling his Sin.

"No… I… am… Sloth… Eternal… Sleep…" His words were breaking, fragmented, like a fading dream.

"But dreams…" Taufik's voice whispered, now behind him, now above him, now inside his head. "…wake up eventually"

Belphegor's eyes widened, fear, true fear, something he had not felt since before he was named among the Seven.

And then.

*Crack… crack…*

The Slothful Nirvana itself began to fracture.

Belphegor screamed, a sound that was not rage, nor fear, but something deeper, like the groan of a collapsing world. His knees buckled, striking the floor with a dull echo. The Slothful Nirvana cracked like fragile glass, its oppressive stillness shattering in an instant.

The chamber reformed around them, the suffocating haze gone, the air once more heavy with the languid aura of Belphegor's domain. Yet the lord of Sloth himself was diminished, his vast form hunched and trembling.

"… Do you have a last word, Belphegor?" Taufik's voice was steady, almost indifferent. "Say it, before the Void swallows you completely"

"Last word?" Belphegor let out a hollow chuckle that bled into a cough. His form was already collapsing, the abyss chewing through his flesh until only his head remained, eyes still gleaming with scorn. "You misunderstand, Dafient… We… the Seven Deadly Sins… we never die. We linger. We rot. We wait"

Taufik tilted his head slightly, watching as the void ate away at the grotesque figure.

"Is that so?" His tone carried neither doubt nor belief, only a cold curiosity.

Belphegor's lips twisted into a grin, wide and mocking even as the void gnawed at his final remnants.

"Be happy, O Dafient. Enjoy this little victory of yours… while it lasts. For all victories are brief. All defiance is temporary. And at the end…" His voice deepened, reverberating unnaturally through the chamber, as though carried by something far greater than himself. "…at the end, we will be there, waiting. Waiting for you"

The last of his words echoed long after his head dissolved into black nothingness, sinking into the endless hunger of the Void.

And then, silence.

The chamber was empty once more, save for Taufik, the only one left standing, his shadow stretching unnaturally long, as though the Void itself lingered, savoring its feast.

Taufik, still cloaked in the vast, writhing shroud of the Primal Void, did not move. His form stood like a monolith of darkness, unmoving, a hollow silhouette in the half-shattered chamber where Belphegor once reigned.

It was a long silence before he spoke, his voice hollow, distant, as if spoken through countless overlapping echoes.

"... Oh~ Lembu, Kl'lara... Basukhi... Where are they?"

A pause. Then, a voice, not from outside, but inside.

[Master]

"... Huh? Who?"

[Master, it's me… System]

"System…" His head tilted unnaturally, the Void tendrils twitching and unraveling from his body like snakes disturbed in their slumber. "... Oh~ Right. System"

[Master, I recommend… returning to your human form immediately]

Taufik's hollow eyes flickered, but no light shone within. His words came soft, cracked, almost childlike. "Human form?... I am Human?"

The System froze, its usually composed voice faltering.

[… Master, are you… okay?]

Taufik tilted his head back, gazing into the endless blackness that pulsed from his very being. A smile, too sharp, too wrong, curved on his face. "... Am I?"

The System said nothing. Only silence.

And in that silence, the Void whispered back to itself.

[... Master, please forgive my rudeness…]

The voice trembled, an oddity for something that should not have emotions.

[Detecting mental instability… Initiating Forced Termination Protocol]

Taufik's void-wrapped body shuddered, a ripple coursing through the black abyss surrounding him. His hollow gaze twitched, like someone caught between two dreams.

[Searching for the source of corruption…]

The silence cracked.

[DING!]

[Problem Source located]

Darkness thrashed violently around him, shrieking in a soundless scream.

[Cause: Forced merging of two Concepts... Darkness and Night]

[Initiating separation sequence…]

[Decoupling in progress, please endure, Master]

The void screeched as tendrils clawed at his skin, as if refusing to let go. A fissure split across Taufik's form, one side dragging him deeper into the abyss, the other straining to return to something mortal.

With what had happened, something else also happened in the deepest Hell, where The Seven Deadly Sins gathered.

--------

- Zamul'thiel - The Throne of Sin (Hell's Core)

If Hell could be said to have a heart, then this place was it.

A realm within realms, a hollow space of infinite depth and crushing weight, where even concepts bowed beneath the will of the Seven.

Seven colossal thrones, each forged from nightmares and carved from dominion itself, stood in a crescent. Every throne was a reflection of its master: gluttonous, wrathful, greedy, envious, slothful, prideful, and lustful.

But now, one of them lay vacant.

The silence here was not the absence of sound, but the suffocating presence of something far greater.

"…Belphegor has been put to sleep"

The words came from the one seated upon the highest throne, a figure of radiant darkness, his mere existence both sanctified and profane.

Lucifer.

"The Slothful One was defeated… by the Dafient"

He did not say killed. Such a word held no meaning for beings such as them. Death was a lie. They were Sin itself, endless, recursive, eternal. At most, one could be sealed, banished, or reduced to fragments… but never erased.

The other six shifted, each in their own manner. A claw tapping impatiently. A serpent's tongue flickering. A smirk twisting lips too beautiful and too cruel.

Belphegor's absence was not a tragedy. It was an insult.

For a "Dafient" a stray existence not born of Sin, not acknowledged by Hell, had dared to bring one of the Seven to slumber.

And in Hell, insult was a sin far greater than betrayal.

....

...

..

.