The meeting room of Sin Rouge felt heavier than usual. Neon leaked through the windows in shades of pink, violet and deep red, but inside the light seemed to hang still, held in place by tension rather than air. Everyone was present: Dreg with his arms folded, Quill restless and alert, Donnie ready with a notebook she hardly needed, Liza quiet and unreadable, Skit curled in his seat, and Brim as steady as ever. They had gathered because Malerion called them, and when he did, no one ignored the summons.
He stood at the head of the obsidian table, posture straight, expression calm, Alastor's silent awareness pulsing faintly inside him like a second heartbeat. Tonight was not about territory or business. It was about knowledge dangerous knowledge.
"We need to talk about the Goetia," he said.
Every gaze sharpened instantly. Nobody laughed. Nobody questioned why. The atmosphere shifted into something colder and more controlled. In Hell, the name carried weight, but almost no one truly understood it. Malerion did.
He spoke slowly. "The Goetia are not demons in the way sinners are demons. They are not Overlords. They are not born from sin, nor bound to Hell's evolutionary chains. They are ancient nobility older than most rings, older than much of the underworld itself."
Quill leaned forward, absorbing every word. "Bloodline magic," he murmured, half to himself.
Malerion nodded. "At the very top of Hell stands the Royal Family: Lucifer, Lilith, and Charlie. Beneath them are the Seven Sins Satan, Beelzebub, Mammon, Asmodeus, Leviathan, Belphegor. They are archdemons, primordial, absolute." He let the truth settle. "And directly beneath them stand the Goetia."
Even Dreg's expression tightened.
Malerion continued, "But even within the Goetia there is hierarchy. Two branches. Two worlds."
The room fell silent, listening.
"The first are the Ancient Goetia. The Old Bloodline. Beings like Paimon demons who predate modern Hellborn families and whose magic is older than most recorded history. Their domains are perfectly refined. Their spellcraft is stable and vast. They can sense magical anomalies simply by walking into the room. Their power does not evolve but it is so immense that evolution is unnecessary."
Liza's eyes narrowed slightly. "They could feel you, couldn't they?"
"Yes," Malerion said without hesitation. "Ancient Goetia are the greatest threat to my anonymity. Not because of force but because of awareness."
He continued before silence became fear.
"The second kind are the Young Goetia the New Bloodline. Stolas, Stella, Andrealphus, and the like. Immensely powerful , but far less refined. Their domains are strong but not perfected. Their awareness is limited. Their instincts are less ancient, less precise."
Quill exhaled softly. "Meaning the younger ones wouldn't detect you unless they were actively analyzing you."
"Correct," Malerion said. "Young Goetia are avoidable. Ancient Goetia are not."
Skit swallowed audibly. Brim's fingers tightened around the arm of his chair. Donnie wrote something down with slow precision.
Malerion stepped closer to the table. "Understand this clearly: even the weakest Young Goetia stands above top-tier Overlords. They are not rivals. They are rulers by birth."
He paused for emphasis.
"Overlords rose to power. Goetia are born with it they just need to master it and refine it, which may take hundreds of years to reach its full potential
Dreg broke the silence. "Then tell us the real question. Can they be killed?"
Malerion spoke plainly. "Yes. But never easily. Never by accident."
The room leaned in.
"There are only two ways to kill a Goetia. First angelic weapons. Divine tools designed to sever immortal essence. Even then, an Ancient Goetia doesn't die instantly, only eventually."
A chill moved through the group.
"Second," Malerion continued, voice steady, "is through a force capable of extinguishing a soul completely. Something beyond Hell's system. Something anomalous. Something powerful enough to override the binding of their bloodline."
Quill stared. "Nothing in Hell can do that."
"Almost nothing," Malerion said quietly.
Liza's voice cut through the room like a blade. "…like you."
Malerion didn't confirm it. He didn't deny it. He simply said, "One day, perhaps. But now? No. For many years they will surpass me by an enormous margin."
The honesty grounded everyone, anchoring hope back into reality.
"So what's our strategy?" Dreg asked.
We do nothing, Malerion answered. We avoid them. We avoid their lands, their politics, their conflicts. We remain beneath notice. We grow quietly. We rise without a sound. We never draw ancient eyes downward.
Quill nodded slowly. "Because if an Ancient Goetia notices you…"
Malerion finished his thought. …they investigate. And Goetia curiosity is more dangerous than Goetia wrath.
No one argued.
No one dismissed him.
Everyone understood.
Overlords are powerful, Malerion said. But Goetia are inevitability. And Ancient Goetia… are doom.
The neon outside flickered as if punctuating his words. Sin Rouge was quiet for several breaths. Even the hum of resonance tech around them seemed to dim.
"We proceed," Malerion said, "with absolute caution."
His team nodded. Their resolve hardened. Their loyalty aligned. They weren't afraid.
They were prepared.
Because now they finally understood the true hierarchy of Hell
and exactly where their enemy sat on that ladder.