Word quickly spread throughout the Nine Circles of Corona’s downfall. Reactions from the inmates ranged from the disappointment that escape had been denied to relief that Armageddon had been canceled. While they held no love for the surface, they did not want to perish along with it in the late Archfiend’s mad scheme. Still, rumors circulated that Tartarus had been breached and smaller-scale escape attempts could be possible. These hopes were proven false as those who ventured to the Fields of Punishment found the Brass Gates under reconstruction and the purported breach sealed and warded against egress. Amongst the Barons and Baronesses, however, there was a mix of indifference and curiosity. Very few of them had much faith in the Infernal Queen or her Grand Exodus but with her position now vacant, all of them sensed an opportunity. This budding ambition was further galvanized when their respective courts were visited by hell-shaded makhai summoning them to Pandemonium for a rare council. Thus did the rulers of the Nine Circles dispatch representative to the Woeful City. Some even deigned to attend the meeting themselves such as Cleo and her co-baron Marc.

“It has been a long time since we’ve been in this city.” The sultry ruler of Lust cooed from within a luxurious palanquin borne aloft by four strapping incubi as they crossed the bridge into the capital of Tartarus. “Ugh, all this brass and stone. I miss home already.”

“It is also under occupation.” The ever militant stallion added as he trotted alongside his beloved. “The Undying are expedient, I’ll give them that.”

As Marc had observed, the dark armored revenants had quickly and efficiently locked down Pandemonium. With their queen dead, command structure in ruins and most of their warriors defeated, the demons surrendered without much of a fight. The wrathful denizens were confined to their quarters and soldiers patrolled the streets. The dignitaries of the Second Circle were funneled along the main thoroughfare to the ruins of Dis. Imps and labor demons under the watchful eyes of the occupying force were scatted about the impact site, repairing the shattered squares and preventing the tower from falling over completely. Far above, just barely discernible through the burning skies, winged hellions worked on patching the giant hole in the ceiling. As he scanned the horizon, the former commander noticed something else that made his skin crawl.

“Some news to brighten your day, Cleo.” He said as he pointed skyward. “Corona met a bloody end after all.”

The Somnambulain mare leaned out of her palanquin and followed her lover’s hoof to the spires of Dis. A grimace spread across her features as she beheld the late Infernal Queen’s hide flapping in the wing, a sorrowful moan coming from the banner as the air passed through the empty eyeholes and mouth.

“The Silent King must have bound her soul to it.” The Baroness shivered as she urged the incubi onward. “Her suffering will be great and eternal.”

The miniature procession came to a stop before one of Dis’ windows that had been repurposed as an entrance. A unicorn in ornate but damaged plate mail stood guard along with a contingent of revenants. Beside him was an unarmored azure unicorn with a bandaged leg and a scroll of parchment held in her magic.

“Baroness Cleo of Lust.” Grand Marshal Armor read their names from the scroll. “Baron Marc of Lust, welcome.”

“Shining Armor. I’ve heard of you.” Marc gave a respectful nod to a fellow soldier. “Congratulations on your victories, both in life and here.”

“Thank you.” The stallion checked off their names before he waved them in. “Looks like you two are the last ones to arrive. We will escort you to the council chambers but your, eh, servants will have to wait outside.”

“I have to trot?” Cleo whined.

“It is not far.” The late prince-regent said plainly, his years of dealing with difficult Canterlot nobles allowing him to keep his patience. “We will make sure you are comfortable.”

“I doubt the palanquin would fit inside anyway.” Lulamoon added helpfully.

"Oh, very well.” The pampered mare huffed as she climbed out of her means of transport. “Don't you all wander off.”

The incubi visibly relaxed once relieved of their burden. Side-by-side, Cleo and Marc entered Dis with Armor and Lulamoon following close behind. Much like the exterior, the interior of the tower was undergoing renovations. Laborers worked to repair the damaged and clear the many demonic corpses while iconoclasts removed all works of Corona’s vanity with almost joyful abandon. True to his word, Armor directed them straight to the council chambers and after a short trot, they stood before the splintered doors.

“Right this way.” Armor said as he and the mage held the doors open for them.

“Why exactly are we here?” Cleo asked before she entered the company of her fellow Infernal Rulers. “The last Council of Dis was centuries ago.”

“His Excellency wishes to discuss the future of the Nine Circles.” Lulamoon said with a knowing smile. “As you two did not side with Corona, Trixie is sure you have nothing to worry about.”

“Right, nothing to worry about.” Marc repeated less confidently as he ushered his mate inside. "Let's not keep them waiting, Cleo."

The doors slammed shut with a boom followed by the sound of them being locked and barred from the other side. With no real way out, the co-barons trotted into the council chamber proper. All around the table sat the eclectic representative of the Nine Circles, divided between the Upper and Lower Hells. Cleo took the empty seat between a chimera huntress from Limbo bearing a crystal ball so that Judge Minos may bear witness to the exchange and a hideously bloated demon from Gluttony while Marc stood off to her side. Across from her sat the Soul Smith and a pair of his automatons. On the opposite side of the great table sat an unicorn covered in glyphs not too dissimilar from Rubric’s representing Heresy, a wild-eyed and blood-soaked butcheress of Violence who seemed ready to pick a fight with anyone for any reason, one of the winged malebranche of Fraud and, finally, a cold and hooded devil of icy Treason. Between the two sides stood the ornate chair of Wrath, vacant with the death of the Infernal Queen. The Barons would have conversed were it not for the other company in the room. The four Praetorian stood along the perimeter of the room, their stoic silence discouraging anything beyond awkward coughs. Along the back wall, the sisters Erinyes stood guard over the shades of Tirek and Grogar plus the prime succubus Xi'vili.

“So, the so-called Grand Exodus was a spectacular display of failure.” The heretical unicorn took a chance to break the tension. “Wouldn’t you all agree?”

There was a moment of hesitation as the rest checked the guards' reactions. When none of them moved, the rest of the council relaxed if only slightly.

“Considerable damage to the Upper Hells and Pandemonium, heavy demonic casualties, and the Banished have been exterminated.” The Soul Smith reported in his clinical way. “It would be more accurate to label it a total disaster.”

“Tch. That’s what happens when you put upper hellions in charge.” The representative of Violence scoffed. "All talk, little action."

“Strange, I recall you calling Corona a, and I quote, ‘proper lower hellion’ when she first announced the Exodus.” The Malebranche arched a bony eyebrow at the butcheress.

“You calling me a liar?!” She snapped as she slugged the demon in the arm to little effect.

“Just another day in Tartarus.” The pudgy glutton wheezed as he searched under the folds of his fat for something to munch on. "Urgh, why aren't there any refreshments?"

While the council chatted idly, the shade of Tirek glanced over at his former travel companion. They had not spoken since the Furies had dragged them back down to Pandemonium but now that attention was not on them, there were a few things he wanted to say to the bell ringer.

“Was it worth it, turncoat?” The spectral centaur seethed at the ram.

“Obviously not.” Grogar grumbled. “We’re right back where we started.”

“You are.” Tirek corrected bitterly. “I was crammed in a cage but at least I was alive.”

“You threw your lot in with Corona, I threw mine in with the Dread Lord.” The ram tried to end the argument as he was in no mood to talk about his latest failure. “We both gambled and we both lost.”

“Might I remind you that it was you who persuaded me to ‘gamble’ in the first place?” The former warlock persisted. “I wanted to go on a bender!”

“If Corona didn’t have me by the bells, I would have bought the first round!” Grogar shot back. “But no. She wanted you for the Exodus and I was to bring you to her as per my debt to her for rebuilding me.”

“Finally, the truth comes out.” Tirek rolled his eyes. “I should have left you in the Malbolge; never trust a Fraud.”

“At this point, I wish you had.” The fallen lord lamented. “Thanks to that hot-headed bitch, we are royally fucked.”

“The two of you have no one to blame but yourselves.” Alekto interrupted their hushed argument. “Your lust for power and dominion led you here. Now hold your tongues, the Hidden One approaches.”

As if on cue, a gravely chill permeated the air of the chamber. The gossiping representative immediately hushed as the torches illuminating the room went from an infernal red to pale ghost lights. The dancing shadows lengthened and surged over the demons. The stygian darkness met in the center of the table and formed a tenebrous mass. Out of the caliginous collection emerged the pale, skull-like visage of the being they knew as Kly'menus Pol'ydegmon. The hellions stared in dread and awe as the shadows reformed into their Overlord’s voluminous hooded robes and regal accouterments. The Dark Lord of the Dead's baleful gaze swept over the assembled hellish representatives from the concealing darkness of his hood, making note of their stances and countenances.

“Cursed and damned, welcome to the Sixth Council of Dis.” The Theoi greeted coolly. "I see we have some new faces among us."

“Welcome back, your Excellency.” Judge Minos greeted from the crystal ball. “I apologize for not attending myself but I have been busy with an influx of damned souls.”

“As well you should be.” The Necroarch acknowledged the Judge of the Damned with a nod. “I had the Hand of Death take the souls of the Banished to the Necropolis to be judged properly. I imagine you will be seeing most of them again.”

“When you get to Rubric, condemn him to the Sixth Circle. There is much we would like to extract from his mind.” The heretic told the Judge only to falter when the Silent King’s pitiless gaze fell on him. “Ahem. That is, if it pleases you, o' Stygian Sovereign.”

“Kiss ass.” The ever belligerent denizen of the Seventh Circle muttered under her breath. "As if flattery works on Kly'menus."

“Don’t be rude.” The malebranche whispered curtly.

“While we are on the subject of the order of Tartarus, I think it is time we discuss recent events.” The Theoi Anax said with an edge of displeasure as he began pacing across the table. “I am certain all of you know what happened to the late Infernal Queen Corona.”

The demons stole a glance at the empty seat. While rumors circulated just how the fiery Alicorn met her end, the banner they saw on their way in suggested her death was not a gentle one. The Third Circle representative voiced what they were thinking.

“Blurg, I saw her flying over the spires.” The glutton belched out. “I take it her death was excruciating.”

“Beyond imagining.” The pale horse rolled a shoulder unconsciously. “Such is the fate of all those who conspire to escape these pits.”

Tirek and Grogar averted their eyes when their captors glared daggers at them.

“The revenants of the Undying Order and their auxiliaries quashed her little uprising but I cannot help but notice that none of the other Circles came rushing to our aid.” The Lord of Shades continued in an unnervingly calm tone. “In fact, it appears you did nothing to prevent this blasphemy. One might call your loyalty into question.”

“We rejected Corona's offer!” Cleo nearly lept from her chair in a panic. "We would never turn against you, Pharoah of Phantoms."

“I would have led our forces against her.” Marc chimed in as the pale horse's gaze fell on them. “But Corona undermined us and stole our best succubi.”

“Such as that beauty.” The mare pointed to Xi'vili who stuck her forked tongue out at her.

“I think I speak for the rest of us when I say that we would also have aided you if we were able.” The icy devil said carefully. “But circumstances conspired against us.”

“You should just speak for yourself.” The Theoi rebuked the frosty fiend with an even colder look of disbelief. “True, some of you denied Corona out of fear of me or you lacked the ability to contribute either way.”

He glanced over at Cleo and Marc, the huntress, and the glutton who offered nervous half-smiles.

“Others, I suspect, stayed neutral because you wanted to ‘wait-and-see’ who emerged victorious and plead your allegiances then.” He swept his gaze over the remaining demons who looked away guiltily.

The Dark Lord stopped in front of the red-robed Baron of Greed and stared down at him. The Soul Smith understandably trembled in his seat. He looked over at Grogar who just gave an almost apologetic shrug of his spectral shoulders.

“You, however…” The stygian stallion's eyes narrowed in scorn.

“Antipath, I can explain!” The fabricator of the Rainbow of Darkness became acutely aware that one of the Praetorians had moved behind him. “I was only complacent in Corona’s uprising because-grk!”

He did not get to finish as the giganties knocked aside his servitors and grabbed him out of his seat. The sentinel slammed him roughly onto the table and fastened a hand over his shoulder while the other enveloped his head. With a horrid screech of metal and flesh, the giganties wrenched the Soul Smith’s head off in a stream of oily fluids.

“ERROR-R-R-R-R-1101111010101101 *beep*!” The mech-demon’s head cried out as his one eye blinked blue a few times before going dark in a burst of sparks.

“This trip just became worth it.” The butcheress could not help but smile gleefully as the Theoi took something off the now headless body before letting it slump to the floor.

“I want to make one thing transparently clear to you and your masters.” The Dark Lord’s tone told the council he was done hearing excuses. “This blasphemy will not happen again. To that end, the makhai will be keeping an eye on all Nine Circles from here on out. Furthermore, I am installing a ‘Black Baron’ who will relay any and all hints of sedition to the Grand Marshal of the Undying.”

As he spoke, the decorations adorning Corona’s seat dulled and crumbled to dust, leaving the chair itself no more ornate than the others. It was clear to the damned present that the office of Infernal Monarch had just been nullified.

“The Barons and Baronesses will still be able to govern their respective Hells with autonomy…” The Theoi assured the rulers present. “…so long as they do not give me a reason to come back down here. Understand?”

The demons nodded vigorously.

“Excellent.” The monochrome monarch eased off the aura of dread he was sure he was projecting. “Now, before you are dismissed, are there any questions?”

The representatives looked at each other shiftily. None of them wanted to field anything that sounded impertinent less they get their heads ripped off like the Soul Smith. Ultimately, the violent demon ventured a question.

“Who will be the Black Baron?” She asked.

“You do not need to know.” The Necroarch answered matter-of-factly. “It would better serve its station behind anonymity.”

“What of the Circles of Wrath and Greed?” The glutton asked. "Who will govern *hick* those?"

“Some damned souls will rise to fill those positions in time.” The pale horse said coolly. “Just like always.”

"Uh, on a somewhat related note, the Second Circle is understaffed at the moment." Cleo spoke up fearfully. "As Marc mentioned, Corona took our succubi."

"That prime succubus over there would be a good start." Her mate pointed at Xi'vili.

"We were deceived." The demonette made to stand but was stopped by Megaera. "I am glad Corona's dead but that does not mean I welcome your inept rule."

"You dare?!" Cleo shouted only to deflate instantly when she remembered where she was. "A thousand apologies, sire, but we need to replenish our numbers."

"It would behoove you not to have a resentful servant." The Dark Lord advised. "But it would please you to know that the Undying raided the Soul Forge on their way here and have returned the succubi there. They will be reborn in the Second Circle in due time."

"Thank you, Pol'ydegmon." Xi said happily.

"But-!" The Baroness tried to protest only for Marc to calm her with a hoof on her back.

"We are not completely depleted." The stallion said firmly but reassuringly. "It's just a matter of time."

"Rrgh, fine." Cleo sank back into her seat with a pout.

A period of silence followed. When no more questions were fielded, the Theoi trotted off the table and knocked on the only door out of the room. A few muffled bangs and crashes later and the doors swung open with Armor and a few revenants standing on the other side.

“Thus this council is concluded.” Their patron said as he extended a hoof out the door. “And only one of you had to die. Thank you all for coming.”

The demonic council promptly stood up from their seats and quickly filed out of the room to begin the journey back to their respective Circles with the news of the new Underworld order. The servitors idled for a bit before some preprogramming kicked in and they hauled their former master back to Greed to be scrapped.

“If we are done here, I'm ready to get out of this hellhole.” Armor said respectfully.

“You all go on ahead to the Brass Gates.” The Dark Lord ordered. “I have a couple of matters to attend to first then we will all return to Asphodel together.”

The Grand Marshal nodded and ordered his troops to move out, much to their relief. The Erinyes forced Grogar and Xi'vili to stand and marched them out of the room. The centaur and ram shared one last spiteful glare but said nothing as they parted company for what they suspected would be the last time. All that remained in the council chamber were Tirek and the Theoi.

"Now what am I going to do with you?" The Necroarch asked rhetorically as he approached the council table again.

"Just dump me in one of the Circles and get it over with." Tirek grumbled. "I'm tired of all this."

"Seems like an ignominious end for one such as you." The Overlord mused aloud. "The centaur who not only escaped from Tartarus but fought the Alicorns to a stalemate. You then united the disparate demons of the Circles under his banner (albeit with the Archfiend's direction) and stood alone against me. Most impressive."

"Are you about to give me a friendship lesson?" The centaur shade visibly balked at the thought.

"No." The Theoi shook his head. "I am offering you a choice, son of Ixion."

"Oh?" The late warlock perked up.

"There is a vacancy in Wrath that has just become available." The hooded horse said as he pulled out what was Corona's chair. "Someone needs to keep order in the capital of the Infernal Pits. Who better than one who has earned some measure of respect from the demons."

Tirek stood up and trotted over to his vanquisher. He looked from the pale pony to the chair as he mulled over the surprising offer. While it seemed generous at first glance, he had some trepidations.

"I once said I would rather be a nameless serf than hold any authority down here." The spectral centaur said critically.

"So says the 'Infernal Champion of the Grand Exodus'." The pale horse deadpanned.

"To be fair, how much authority does a puppet of Corona hold?" The warlock argued plaintively. "I was just another rung on her ladder to the surface."

"So was she, in a way." The Dark Lord muttered which earned a confused look from the centaur. "But that ladder has broken and now here we are."

"So I take Corona's old job or..." Tirek trailed off and left the unsaid question hanging.

"You are brought before Judge Minos and he decides where you shall spend eternity." The stygian sovereign said pointedly. "I think you know what that will entail."

"All to well." The warlock shivered as memories of his last encounter with the Judge surfaced. "Hmm..."

Tirek tapped a finger to his spectral chin as he paced about in thought. The Theoi impassively watched his internal struggle, not offering the slightest hint as to what fate the former Shaggoth should damn himself to. Finally, the ghostly warlock stopped before the empty chair and looked up at the pallid horse. Wordlessly, he turned around and eased himself into the Throne of Wrath. The shade stiffened as hellish power seeped out of the stone seat and enveloped him, painfully returning the centaur to form and flesh.

"Gah! What the hell?!" The restored Tirek nearly fell out of his chair as the sensation of smell, touch and taste suddenly came to him. "I'm back?!"

"Can't have a simple shade ruling over an entire Circle." The Theoi said candidly.

The crimson centaur looked over his familiar body. While he was not a withered hermit, he was far from an almighty Shaggoth. If anything, he was at the same level as a group of unicorns; formidable but still outclassed by many of his contemporaries including the stallion in the room. He briefly considered testing that assessment but wisely thought better of it.

"What happens now?" The warlock asked as he flexed his arms experimentally.

"You govern." The Dark Lord said simply as he trotted toward the exit. "I'm sure you'll figure out how your Circle works... Baron Tirek of Wrath."

The newly dubbed Baron watched his king depart the council chambers without ceremony, leaving him alone. The warlock looked back down at his hands and sent a few sparks of infernal magic between them. He knew that his power was ultimately hollow. The demons of Pandemonium were mostly self-sufficient and the Wrathful did not do much other than stew in a mire. He was effectively a figurehead; just another damned soul in the hells of Tartarus.

"All I got to show for this mess is a nicer cage." The once ambitious Tirek sank into his throne with a weary sigh. "At least the Barons seem free to travel between Circles. I might go on that Second Circle pub crawl after all."

"Pain... fear..." The faint voice was carried away by the wind that blew through the banner to Corona's failure.

The Dark Lord ignored it as he gazed up into the burning sky of the Fifth Circle. It appeared as if another hellstorm was brewing but the Theoi knew it was something far worse. He steadied himself as the wind turned into gusts and stinging embers began to whip through the acrid air. The sky darkened around him as if something had drained the very light from it. A malevolent cackle made itself know over the howling winds as something ancient and terrible manifested in the swirling madness. A horrific hybrid of a flayed gargoyle and skinless wyrm circled the spires of Dis before alighting on a ledge just above the nonplussed Necroarch.

"Hail, Tartarus." The pale horse rose a hoof in greeting to the physical incarnation of the Infernal Prison.

"So formal after all these centuries." The leering skull of the creature opened wide to reveal a pair of burning eyes in a broiling mass of shadows that billowed out of the mouth like smoke. "Welcome back, Aidoneus."

"And what a welcome it was." The younger immortal scoffed. "My realm in ruins and under threat from the damned."

"Mmhmhm. Yes, I have been observing for some time." Tartarus agreed with a chuckle. "It has been a most amusing game to witness."

"Game?" The Necroarch arched an eyebrow. "This was maintenance."

"From a certain point of view, I am sure." The primordial brought a claw to its 'mouth' as if suppressing a laugh. "Although I must say, I am surprised you have returned in equine form. I would have thought you would have assumed your war form to 'preform maintenance' here."

"You do what you can with what you got." The pale horse looked down at a hoof critically. "While we are on the topic of maintenance, I trust you are aware of the state of...yourself."

"Yes, the false Alicorn and her minions made a mess of things." The beast turned to look at the bloody remains of the Hierarch before returning to the stallion. "I can already feel the repairs underway; my strength returns with every fiery brick laid."

"You will need it for the influx of newly damned shades." The Theoi said coolly. "I fear some of them still hold on to the hope of escape despite everything that has transpired."

"Hehehaha! Their crushed hopes will go sweetly with their agony." Tartarus rubbed its claws together expectantly. "It has been a while since I had truly feasted. The Reapers must have been slacking off in their duties."

"I actually think that is due to the mortals gaining some moral fiber during my absence." The Dark Lord countered matter-of-factly. "There are some genuine heroes in the world again. Then again, the villains they face tend to go to the extreme in their wickedness."

"So that little gray area has shrunk." The beast waved a claw dismissively. "Mortals are a fickle bunch but so long as I have their suffering to sustain myself, I could care less about their ratio of saints to sinners."

"Just an observation." The pallid pony said neutrally. "Getting back on topic, when you are raising demons from the sulfur pits, might I recommend you raise the Hekatonkheires first? The Fields need a warden."

"Hahaha, I am certain they do." The tower trembled as the primordial laughed. "Especially with that breach to the surface."

"I had that sealed as soon as possible." The Dark Lord's expression darkened in contained fury. "But there is still the matter of those who escaped."

"Bah! A few dozen hellions and a fractured soul that was improperly sent to me." Tartarus said dismissively. "Even the most pedantic of detractors would consider that a blemish on our reputations."

"Even so, they must be hunted down." The Dark Lord said decisively. "All it takes is one loose thread to unravel a tapestry. I have seen it happen more times than I can count."

"I still do not think it is worth the trouble but you do what you will." The beast said as it shifted its posture. "So beyond hunting down my wayward children, what is next for the Prince of Purgatory?"

"I thought I would track down your brother and sister." The stygian stallion said candidly. "Do you know anything about them?"

"Only that they left for the Overworld not long after you vanished." Tartarus answered after some thought. "We got a flood of new arrivals soon afterward if that helps any."

"I suspected as much." The Theoi sighed. "My gratitude."

"I am only looking out for the family." The creature closed its mouth as it took to the air again. "This is where I take my leave, Hidden One. The smell of fresh pain and suffering is making me hungry. Once again, welcome back."

The pale horse simply waved farewell as the beast disappeared into the hellstorm with a boat of cruel, echoing laughter. The storm dispersed and the stallion was left alone atop Dis. His solitude was brief as voices could be heard coming up from a stairwell behind him.

“So where are we going?” A clearly fearful Grogar asked. “Is the King going to hang me up there with Corona?”

“Quiet, worm.” Alekto said harshly.

The ram must have listened and held his silence. In time, he, Xi'vili and the Fury appeared in the open-air donjon at the top of the tower in the shadow of the spires. The Theoi glanced over his shoulder to acknowledge their presence but did not face them. The eldest Erinyes shoved the demonette and shade into the middle of the tower and made sure they remained kneeling.

"One succubus and goat shade, my Lord." The Fury reported.

"Thank you, Alekto." The Stygian Sovereign said with a wave. "That will be all for now."

"Let me know when you are ready to return to Barathrum, sir." The Erinyes bowed her head before departing. "My sisters and the Undying are eager to leave."

"I am sure they are." The she-demon tsked critically.

“How did-?” The fallen goat lord was about to ask how the Theoi beat them to the top when they had a head start but thought better of it. "Nevermind."

“Do you remember what you requested when we first met at the Gates, Grogar?” The Dark Lord asked without facing the shade.

“That you return Tambelon from oblivion.” Grogar answered with a hint of hope in his voice.

“Ah, yes. The city-state you obliterated rather than let fall under the rule of Equestria.” The Necroarch recalled. “Had it been sunk beneath the earth or banished to a pocket dimension, it might be within my power to restore.”

“Oh.” The crestfallen bell ringer hung his head as he realized all his efforts were in vain from the very beginning.

"I'm sorry, Grogar." Xi'vili placed a comforting hand on the shade's back.

“That being said, perhaps you two would be interested in a new home.” The pale horse finally turned to the spectral ram and lust demon. “One built of secrets and information rather than stone and wood.”

“You want us to be the Black Baron?” Grogar deduced. “Why?”

“I want you to be the Black Baron specifically, Grogar. You have demonstrated your capacity as an informant under Corona as you gathered that merry band of misfits together.” The Dread Lord explained as he retrieved something from within his heavy robes. “You are also the only one left who can use this for long-range communication.”

The monochrome monarch held up a single Tambelonian bell, the same one the ram had sold to the Soul Smith and now possibly the last of its kind. With trembling hooves, Grogar reached out for the source of his powers only for the Overlord the hold it out of his reach.

“Understand that if you accept this, you will be embracing the fate of ruling a shadow state; you will receive no fame or recognition, the denizens will despise you even if they do not know who you are and the name Grogar will eventually fade from memory.” The Dark Lord warned. “You know what the alternative is.”

The fallen lord hesitated as he considered the proposition. He would either spend eternity as a vassal, something he had damned himself to avoid, or be submersed in boiling pitch along with the rest of the barrators. After a few moments of thought, he extended his hooves again. Without a word, the Theoi Anax deposited the bell into the hooves of the new Black Baron. As the bronze metal made contact with his ectoplasm, a wave of Khthonic energy surged up his forelegs and over his ghostly body. When it cleared, Grogar found what appeared to be his original body restored complete with deep blue fur and gnarled goatee. He looked up at the pale horse, confused.

“I live again?” He asked as he mirrored Tirek's reaction to returning to flesh.

“You live as much as your fellow Barons do and certainly more than that patchwork mess you were occupying.” The Theoi answered. “Consider it a welcoming gift to your new station, Baron Grogar of Tartarus.”

"What is to become of me?" Xi'vili asked with an apprehensive glance at her former boss.

"You two appear to make a decent team and Tartarus doesn't need another rootless demon wandering about." The pale horse answered before he took the succubus aside and out of earshot of the still self-inspecting ram. "I logically cannot trust anyone from Fraud no matter how useful they are. I'm not about to pick his brain with every report so I need someone to verify his intel or at least keep him honest."

"So I'm the handler for the prison snitch." The demonette neatly summarized their new roles. "Okay. We will serve you well, sir."

Satisfied and with his buisness in Tartarus concluded, the Dark Lord trotted past the restored ram as he got used to the sensation of being flesh and blood again. He was about to descend the tower when he stopped and looked over his shoulder at the bell ringer.

“I recommend you set up shop somewhere that the makhai can reach you easily.” The Necroarch advised. “And keep that bell within easy access. Either Marshal Armor or I will contact you from time to time.”

“As you command, my Lord.” Grogar bowed his head in submission as Xi'vili rejoined him with a small smile. "Uh, one question, if I may?"

"Ask." The pale horse gestured for him to continue.

"That merry band of misfits you mentioned..." The ram averted his eyes guiltily. "... what happened to them?"

"Do you really care?" The Dark Lord asked, no so much accusingly as curiously. "You did betray them."

"We literally and figuratively went through hell together." The bell ringer said meekly. "I just want to know."

"Tirek is the new Baron of Wrath." The Theoi began plainly. "The rest are awaiting judgment in the First Circle. I believe the dragon will end up back in the Sixth Circle while the griffon and zebra will be sent to the Seventh."

"Violence?" The ram's eyes widened in surprise. "Not Greed and Lust?"

"It's one thing to covet wealth and the pleasures of the flesh." The Overlord said knowingly. "It's quite another to take them by force."

"I see." Grogar nodded in understanding. "Sometimes I forget that we are down here for a reason."

"I mistake I would not repeat if I were you." The pale horse advised. "We will be in touch."

The Dark Lord said nothing more as he disappeared back into Dis. The Black Baron looked from the bell in his hooves to the bloody banner flying overhead. For a moment, thoughts of escape crept into his mind only for a mournful groan from what was Corona to banish them just as quickly. His fate had been sealed and all he could do was make the best of it.

"Well, I guess we should find a base to weave our web of information." Grogar said as he attached the bell to one of his horns. "Any ideas?"

"The former anchors of Dis, one of the Fields' prison towers, the outskirts of Pandemonium..." Xi'vili rattled off their options as they trotted and walked side-by-side into the tower. "... or we could always remain mobile."

"That may be best." The Black Baron agreed. "We can use those places you mentioned but never stay in anyone for long."

Thus did a sense of normalcy return to the Infernal Pits. Demons returned to their eternal duties of inflicting pain and misery on deserving shades while the Barons exercised their privileged but impotent power. Brick by brick, the Brass Gates were rebuilt and fortified so that a repeat of the Crystal Empire's egress could never happen again while the breach as properly sealed on the Underworld's side. In time, the effects of the Grand Exodus were erased and expunged leaving little more than an object lesson for elder demons to warn upstart newcomers with.