About the book: year / The bloody civil war in Hell ended fifteen years ago, and life went on as usual: another Fallen took the throne, and the Black Guard sensitively rules the Underworld, languishing from the blissful tranquility painstakingly built by their own hands. Other times - they invariably choose these words because they don’t know whether they made the world a better place or broke something in its origins by breaking all the rules. Another anniversary of the Exodus. The moment in which everything they've created can turn to dust.