Diablo Chronicle Episode 23: Who Was the One to Be Sealed?
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This is a fan narrative rewritten based on the events of the original game. The characters' emotions, dialogue, and the atmosphere of the scenes have been reconstructed, and it contains major spoilers for the ending.
The Wolf's Offer
At the crossroads where the red sandstorms of Hell blew, a massive wolf draped in blood-stained hide blocked the Wanderer's path. Mephisto, in the guise of the beast, opened his grotesquely twisted maw and spoke in a hoarse voice. His cunning eyes gleamed, as if he knew the weight of the burden the Wanderer carried.
"The mother you pursue seeks to mold this world to her own whim." The wolf's voice echoed, piercing directly into the Wanderer's mind. The Wanderer gripped the hilt of their sword, but they could not strike the beast just yet. The wolf warned of how reckless and destructive Lilith's plans were, urging that they must join forces.
The wolf whispered in detail how Lilith intended to use the humans of Sanctuary as mere pawns. "She does not wish to save you; she intends to make you instruments of the Eternal Conflict." Mephisto's words subtly preyed upon the anxiety deep within the Wanderer, claiming that he was the only solution.
Within the wolf's crimson eyes, the endless flames of Hell flickered. The Wanderer caught their breath, weighing the poison hidden within the wolf's offer. They knew that aid from the Lord of Hatred never came without a price, yet it was also true that no other options seemed viable in the face of Lilith's overwhelming power.
Standing beside them, Neyrelle glared at the wolf, enduring the pain in her left arm, which was roughly wrapped in bandages. Her remaining right hand tightly clutched the blue sapphire Soulstone. Seeing Neyrelle's resolute expression, the Wanderer was reminded once again of the shadow of ruin lurking behind the beast's sweet proposal.
"I shall guide you to where my essence lies," the wolf declared with an arrogant air, as if mocking the Wanderer's hesitation. He urged that a decision had to be made before Lilith arrived. Although the Wanderer did not agree with the wolf, they had to follow his lead for now to stop Lilith.
As the wolf swiped his paw through the air, a blood-red portal tore open with a grotesque screech. From beyond the portal, the dismal energy of the depths of the Cathedral of Hatred spilled out. Mephisto looked back at the Wanderer and Neyrelle, silently pressuring them to follow, before slowly stepping into the portal.
The Wanderer stared at the crimson vortex where the wolf had vanished and let out a deep sigh. The path leading to the heart of Hell promised a torment worse than death. After a brief exchange of glances with Neyrelle, the Wanderer gripped their weapon with grim resolve and took a heavy step into the portal's ghastly light.
Lilith's Illusion and Temptation
As they passed through the portal and ventured deeper into the Cathedral of Hatred, the Wanderer's vision was suddenly shrouded in a crimson mist. Physical space dissolved, and only Lilith's essence, dwelling within the Wanderer's blood, surged vividly. In their ears, the soft yet commanding voice of the one called Mother began to echo.
Within the illusion, Lilith approached the Wanderer, her blood-red gown fluttering. Her gaze held a bizarre mixture of benevolence and cruelty. "My child, why do you walk such a painful path?" Lilith reached out as if to caress the Wanderer's cheek, whispering her grand design for Sanctuary.
Lilith insisted to the Wanderer that she was the only one who could break the eternal cycle of Heaven and Hell. She tempted them, saying that weak humanity needed her guidance to stand on their own, and that the Wanderer must lead the vanguard. The Lilith of the illusion stoked the desire for power buried deep within the Wanderer.
The Wanderer realized that Lilith's voice was trying to paralyze their reason. Her words were sweet, but beneath them lay a desire for dominion, seeking to subjugate all life in Sanctuary beneath her feet. The Wanderer struggled to sever the blood bond, but Lilith's illusion clung to them like a leech.
"With me, you shall become the true master of Sanctuary." Lilith promised the Wanderer infinite power and glory, urging them to cast aside the outdated beliefs of the Horadrim. She brought up the losses and suffering the Wanderer had endured, claiming that only she could heal those wounds and usher in a new world.
The Wanderer swung their sword within the illusion, but Lilith's form merely dispersed like red smoke before reforming. She mocked the Wanderer's resistance, declaring that a bond forged in blood could never be broken. The Wanderer's heart hammered wildly, cold sweat beaded on their forehead, and a wave of intense confusion washed over them.
Lilith's illusion constricted the Wanderer's mind, forcing a final choice. She warned that if the Wanderer rejected her, Sanctuary would face eternal ruin. Feeling their judgment cloud in the face of Lilith's overwhelming presence, the Wanderer fell into deep doubt over what the right path truly was.
As the red mist slowly cleared and the cold air of reality pierced their lungs, the Wanderer gasped for breath and stumbled. Though the illusion had vanished, the seeds of temptation and dominion sown by Lilith still writhed within the Wanderer's blood. Doubting their own sanity, the Wanderer dreaded the approaching moment of decision.
The Heart of the Cathedral and the Entrusted Choice
The place where the Wanderer and Neyrelle arrived was the deepest chamber of the Cathedral of Hatred. In the center, where massive veins pulsed along the walls, Mephisto's reforming essence throbbed grotesquely, radiating a crimson light. Mephisto, in his wolf form, crouched before the essence, welcoming the Wanderer's party.
The wolf urged them, saying that Lilith had not yet reached this place, and that now was their sole opportunity to join hands with the Lord of Hatred to stop her. Feeling the horrific malice radiating from Mephisto's reforming essence, the Wanderer instinctively knew that the beast's offer could plunge Sanctuary into even greater ruin.
The Wanderer had not fully recovered from the mental shock left by Lilith's illusion moments before. The fear that Lilith's influence, mingled in their blood, was clouding their judgment weighed heavily upon them. Gripping their sword with a trembling hand, the Wanderer looked back and forth between Mephisto's essence and the wolf, lost in deep anguish.
Standing beside them, Neyrelle suppressed the pain in her bandaged left arm, clutching the blue sapphire Soulstone tightly to her chest with her remaining right hand. Her eyes held unwavering resolve despite her fear. Looking at Neyrelle's steadfast posture, the Wanderer believed that only she, untainted by Lilith's blood, could make a pure decision.
"I cannot trust my own judgment," the Wanderer confessed to Neyrelle in a cracked voice. The whispers of temptation and dominion from Lilith's illusion still echoed in their ears. The Wanderer approached Neyrelle, conveying their intent to fully hand over the weight of this terrible choice, upon which the fate of Sanctuary hung.
Neyrelle caught her breath at the Wanderer's words, but soon nodded. She understood the magnitude of the responsibility she had to bear better than anyone. Raising the blue Soulstone held in her right hand, Neyrelle offered a silent promise to repay the Wanderer's trust. The Wanderer resolved to support her decision without question.
The wolf let out an ominous chuckle as he watched the Wanderer hand the choice over to Neyrelle. He mocked, calling it a burden far too harsh for a young girl to bear, yet he watched with intrigue to see what decision she would make. Mephisto's essence pulsed even more violently in tandem with the wolf's laughter, staining the room in crimson.
The Wanderer stepped back behind Neyrelle, keeping a vigilant watch. It was a tense situation; Lilith could burst into the room at any moment. Vowing to protect Neyrelle to the end no matter what choice she made, the Wanderer aimed their weapon toward the firmly shut doors of the cathedral, waiting with bated breath for the coming battle.
Neyrelle's Decision and the Sealing
Neyrelle slowly stepped toward Mephisto's reforming essence. The wolf maintained a relaxed demeanor, expecting her to free him in order to stop Lilith. However, Neyrelle's gaze shone coldly, directed not at the wolf, but at the pulsing crimson essence of Hatred itself.
"Lilith is a threat, but you are a far greater catastrophe," Neyrelle declared in a resolute voice, raising the blue sapphire Soulstone high in her right hand. The wolf's relaxed expression instantly contorted, filled with obvious panic. Neyrelle had resolved to imprison the Lord of Hatred first, refusing to be swayed by Mephisto's whispers.
As Neyrelle chanted a Horadric incantation, a dazzling light erupted from the blue Soulstone, beginning to envelop Mephisto's essence. The reforming crimson energy swirled and was sucked into the Soulstone alongside a painful shriek. This was not an absorption of the wolf's physical form, but a ritual to seal the very essence of Hatred dwelling within the cathedral.
The wolf let out a furious roar, threatening Neyrelle, but as the essence was sealed, his form also began to fade. Neyrelle gritted her teeth against the excruciating pain radiating from her bandaged left arm, holding the Soulstone firmly with only the grip of her right hand, pushing the ritual to its completion.
When Mephisto's final essence was at last sucked into the blue sapphire, the crimson light that had filled the room vanished in an instant. The wolf's illusion was completely extinguished, and the Soulstone pulsed with an ominous blue light, harboring the Lord of Hatred. Neyrelle gasped for breath, feeling the cold touch of the Soulstone.
Having completed the sealing, Neyrelle turned to the Wanderer and cried out urgently, "I will take this far away. You must stop her!" Neyrelle judged that she had to leave this place before the malevolent energy radiating from the Soulstone could affect the Wanderer. The Wanderer nodded silently, harboring deep respect for her courage.
Neyrelle secured the Soulstone tightly in her pack and, enduring the pain of her severed left arm, hurried toward the cathedral's secret passage. The Wanderer did not take their eyes off her back until she had completely vanished into the darkness. Now, the only task left for the Wanderer was to face the approaching Lilith alone and end her.
Immediately after Neyrelle escaped, the heavy doors of the cathedral shattered into pieces, and Lilith revealed herself. She let out a scream contorted with rage as she beheld the empty chamber, devoid of Mephisto's essence. Gripping their sword anew, the Wanderer charged fiercely toward the Daughter of Hatred to sever the chains of the blood-forged illusion.
The Desperate Struggle Between the Wanderer and Lilith
Lilith's crimson wings sliced through the cathedral's air, whipping up a fierce gale. Enraged by the Wanderer's betrayal in snatching away her father, she bared her sharp claws and unleashed a merciless assault. The Wanderer barely deflected the attack with their shield, but the immense impact threw them backward, rolling across the floor.
"How dare you reject my salvation and choose ruin!" Lilith's voice cracked grotesquely, laced with a mixture of rage and sorrow. She unleashed a barrage of blood magic, cutting off the Wanderer's retreat. Dodging the cascading crimson thorns, the Wanderer swung their sword with the sole determination to survive and end this persistent, twisted fate.
Lilith attempted once more to stimulate her essence dwelling within the Wanderer's blood. The Wanderer's vision flickered red as an excruciating headache set in, but the resolve Neyrelle had shown held the Wanderer's will steadfast. Rising above the pain, the Wanderer broke through Lilith's magical barrier and launched a fierce counterattack.
As the Wanderer's blade cut deep into one of Lilith's wings, black blood erupted like a fountain. Lilith retreated with a painful shriek, but soon charged back with even greater ferocity. The cathedral floor cracked, and shattered pillars collapsed as the desperate struggle between the two beings reached its climax.
In the face of Lilith's overwhelming power, the Wanderer gradually began to feel the limits of their physical endurance. Their body was covered in wounds, and with every breath, a burning pain seared through their lungs. Yet, recalling their duty to protect Sanctuary and their debt to those who had sacrificed themselves, the Wanderer squeezed out the last of their strength.
The moment Lilith soared into the air to deliver her final blow, the Wanderer spotted a fatal opening in her movement. Without hesitation, the Wanderer leaped off the ground, putting all their weight into driving their sword straight into the center of Lilith's chest. A dull thud echoed through the cathedral as the blade pierced Lilith's heart.
Lilith's eyes widened, a mixture of shock and emptiness crossing her gaze. Black blood spilled from her mouth, and her massive wings went limp, drooping down. "You... shall bring about... your own ruin..." Lilith left behind a cursed final breath, slowly falling to the floor while still impaled by the Wanderer's sword.
The moment Lilith's body touched the floor, her flesh began to turn to ash and scatter. Gasping for breath, the Wanderer watched in silence as the Daughter of Hatred dissolved into red ash. A heavy silence, signaling the end of the long and horrific struggle, settled over the ruined cathedral. The Wanderer finally sheathed their weapon.
An Imperfect Victory and Wounds
Returning to Sanctuary after their horrific journey through Hell, the Wanderer found Lorath standing alone on the desolate earth. The old Horadrim welcomed the Wanderer, his face etched with clear exhaustion. The moment their eyes met, they could read the scars of the brutal battles each had endured, without needing to utter a single word.
Lorath let out a deep sigh as he looked at the Wanderer's torn armor and blood-stained face. "Is Lilith finished?" His question carried a heavy fatigue rather than relief. The Wanderer merely nodded in silence as an answer. Yet within that brief affirmation, there was no joy of victory to be found.
The Wanderer approached Lorath, recalling the disastrous end of Inarius's army and the death of Donan. Too much blood had been spilled to protect Sanctuary, and the price remained as an indelible scar in the hearts of the survivors. Lorath, too, suppressed the sorrow of losing his old companion, his expression turning bitter.
"We won, but only ruins remain," Lorath muttered, staring at the shattered earth. The Wanderer agreed with his words, silently gazing at the traces of destruction left by Lilith. Sanctuary might have been saved, but healing the scarred land and the hearts of its people would surely require an unimaginably long time.
The Wanderer looked down at their hands. The ominous link forged by Lilith's blood had been severed with her death, but the scars etched upon their soul still throbbed. The Wanderer constantly questioned themselves whether the countless choices they had made were truly for the best, or if they had sown the seeds of yet another tragedy.
Lorath placed a hand on the Wanderer's shoulder, offering heavy consolation. "Do not blame yourself. We merely did our best in the situation we were given." His voice was gruff, but it held a warm compassion, seeking to rely on one another as survivors. The Wanderer found a small measure of comfort in Lorath's touch.
Yet, in a corner of both their hearts, an indelible anxiety still lingered. They worried for the safety of Neyrelle, who had departed alone carrying the Soulstone that sealed Mephisto. Lorath lamented the weight of the burden Neyrelle had to bear, earnestly hoping she could safely control that malevolent energy.
A cold wind blew, brushing against their collars. Leaving behind the ruined landscape of Sanctuary, the Wanderer and Lorath turned their heavy steps back toward the temporary camp. Lilith's threat was gone, but the victory they faced was a terribly incomplete, scarred glory bought with far too many sacrifices.
The Left-Behind Letter
Upon arriving at the temporary camp, the Wanderer stepped inside the worn tent where Neyrelle had stayed. The inside of the tent was empty, as if its owner had departed in a hurry, with only cold air lingering. While searching the surroundings, the Wanderer discovered a single sheet of parchment left resting on a wooden table. It was a letter left by Neyrelle.
The Wanderer carefully unfolded the parchment. Neyrelle's familiar handwriting was smudged in places, hinting at how hurried and anxious she must have been while writing. Reading the first line of the letter, the Wanderer let out a deep sigh, fully realizing the weight of the burden she had chosen to bear alone.
"Wanderer, by the time you read this letter, I will have already gone far away." Neyrelle's letter began calmly, but beneath it lay a profound fear. She wrote that the energy of the Soulstone imprisoning Mephisto was so powerful that she decided to depart alone, fearing she might bring harm to those around her.
In the letter, Neyrelle expressed a heavy sense of responsibility for the choice she had made. She confessed that she was constantly doubting whether sealing Mephisto instead of Lilith had been the right decision, and that the wicked whispers emanating from the Soulstone were already gnawing away at her mind. The Wanderer's heart sank.
"Do not look for me. This is entirely my burden to bear." Neyrelle earnestly pleaded with the Wanderer not to pursue her. She vowed that, as the last heir of the Horadrim, she would hide this cursed Soulstone in a safe place and find a way to block Mephisto's influence forever.
The Wanderer tightened their grip on the letter. The image of the young girl flickered before their eyes—having lost her left hand and wrapped it in bandages, she had left all alone, harboring that terrible demonic essence. The Wanderer blamed themselves for passing such a cruel burden onto Neyrelle, and hung their head in guilt for failing to protect her to the very end.
Lorath entered the tent and saw the Wanderer's stiff expression and the letter in their hand. Taking the parchment, Lorath read it in silence, and a deep sorrow and regret spread across his wrinkled face. "A foolish, brave child..." Lorath muttered in a choked voice, setting the letter back down on the table.
The Wanderer stared once more at the letter on the table, hardening their resolve. Though Neyrelle had asked them not to look for her, the Wanderer could not leave her to meet her ruin alone. Deep in their heart, the Wanderer swore that one day they would surely follow her trail and share that heavy burden with her.
The Solitary Voyage Toward Nahantu
Over the southern waters shrouded in thick mist, a small rowboat glided lonely along. On the boat, Neyrelle sat huddled with her travel pack beside her. Her left arm was thickly wrapped in bandages stained with seeping blood, and her remaining right hand desperately clutched the blue sapphire Soulstone in her breast.
Neyrelle found the freezing chill radiating from the Soulstone far harder to endure than the throbbing pain in her bandaged left arm. The stone, emitting a blue light, pulsed as if it were alive, constantly injecting an ominous energy through her palm. Neyrelle bit her lip, her face pale.
In her ears, Mephisto's cunning whispers echoed incessantly. The wolf's illusion popped out of the mist from time to time, stoking her fear. "Do you truly believe you can imprison me, weak child?" The wolf in the illusion bared his teeth in mockery, and Neyrelle shook her head violently, struggling to shake off the auditory hallucination.
The influence of the evil within the Soulstone persistently burrowed into Neyrelle's mind, dragging up the memories she feared most. Her mother's death, the sacrifices of her companions, and the horrific sensation of her severed left hand came vividly back to life to torment her. Gasping for breath, Neyrelle was overwhelmed by despair, wondering when this terrible torture would ever end.
But Neyrelle could not give up. She squeezed the Soulstone even tighter, putting all her strength into her remaining right hand. "I am a Horadrim. I will not yield to a mere illusion like you." Neyrelle promised herself in a trembling voice, straining with all her might to resist the wolf's whispers. An unwavering resolve dwelt in her eyes.
The boat slowly made its way toward the rugged jungles of Nahantu. Neyrelle vaguely hoped that there might be ancient knowledge or a sanctuary there capable of suppressing the Soulstone's power. She prayed that the Wanderer and Lorath had successfully defeated Lilith, earnestly wishing that this terrible burden she carried would never reach them.
The mist cleared briefly, and cold moonlight illuminated the water's surface. Neyrelle felt a deep solitude as she looked at her gaunt face reflected in the water. There was no one by her side; the Lord of Hatred was her sole companion. Pressing her bandaged left arm close to her chest, Neyrelle endured the creeping cold and loneliness.
The rowboat continued its endless journey along the southern river shrouded in deep darkness. Neyrelle wrapped her clothes tightly around the Soulstone to prevent its blue light from leaking out. Though she could not know how harsh the trials in Nahantu would be, Neyrelle moved silently forward into the unknown darkness, bearing the weight of Hatred all alone.
Verified Sources
Official Blizzard Lore: Akarat and the Spirit Realm
Official Blizzard Material: From the Vessel of Hatred to the Lord of Hatred
Official Blizzard Material: Vessel of Hatred Campaign
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