Atticus groaned, pushing himself painfully up from the broken ground. Since Veti had flung him at the white wolf, the whole world had been a blur. Broken, bleeding, and completely disoriented, Atticus could not comprehend his surroundings or begin to know if his friends were alive or dead. 

With eyes clouded with debris and the haze of nausea, Atticus scanned the world around him. As far as he could see, crags of shattered earth and rock protruded at unnatural angles, rising up towards a sky that was an eerie amalgamation of black, grey, and shifting green. 

[i]Green?[/i] Atticus thought, distantly recognizing the abnormal nature of such a color in the sky. 

His mind began to clear, and comprehension slowly began to return to the incubus. He realized that all he could see was bathed in the bright, unnerving green color, as if the whole night was being illuminated by a flickering neon sign. Reality struck home, borne upon the emerald light, and a maelstrom of thoughts rushed into Atticus’ mind.

[i]The white-wolf.[/i]

[i]Ragnarök.[/i]

[i]Fenris.[/i]

A cry, piercing with notes of desperation, and tragically distinct, met his ears. Atticus’ eyes widened in horror, and he spun about with agonizing quickness.

[i]Siya![/i]

There, perched upon the mountainous corpse of the god-wolf, was the tiny vampire. Coated with thick crimson gore, she stood like Atlas, pressing her tiny frame against the crackling green orb that dwarfed her almost to the point of invisibility.

“Siya, no!” Atticus yelled to her. 

Without thought his feet began to move. Shattered though he was, the incubus began to charge across the riven ground towards where Siya stood in torment. Atticus unfurled torn wings, ignoring the lightning strikes of pain that shot through his body. With each new step, he flapped and jumped skywards, crying out as if the exclamation would itself carry him into flight. 

A final grunt, and a last valiant effort of will propelled the incubus from the ground. From his wings, raindrops of blood fell from the many wounds, yet still he flew. With each pulse of his muscles, a haze of black rimmed his vision, threatening to strip him of his consciousness. Atticus fought through it, calling upon every ounce of infernal power to keep his mind anchored in the terrible plane that was reality.

Distantly, as he careened towards Siya, Atticus realized that in his current state he could offer no help to his love. When he reached her, if he tried to ease Siya’s burden in his natural body, he would be utterly destroyed by the malevolent power of the green ball. He was no god, and he had no means to assimilate a god’s divine resilience as Siya had. Yet, as he passed over the dead hulk of Fenris, Atticus knew what he must do.

With an ungraceful lift to his wings, Atticus landed hard upon the corpse. He skidded towards Siya in a tangle of blood and fiery-red flesh. Stopping near her feet, Atticus scrambled up from the bed of thick fur, and lifted his head. Though, what looked up into the vampire’s face was not the Atticus she would have recognized.

Onyx tendrils, like rancorous ink, cascaded from around the incubus’ mouth and eyes. It bled over his skin, blotting out the red, and replacing it only with the stain of black. As his flesh transformed, his eyes dimmed from their bright crimson into pits of darkness, until in a sudden flash of dull orange, they ignited like chunks of burning coal. 

Thick, chocking black smoke began to pour from Atticus’ eyes and mouth. It billowed upwards, smelling of scorched flesh and brimstone, as it gushed upward towards the green orb. When the smoke met the energy ball, it flowed across it, enveloping the lower hemisphere in its acrid curls until all of that portion was completely obscured. More smoke rose from Atticus, issuing forth from his very pores as if they were chimney stacks, impossibly thick, and noxiously potent.

Like the smoldering demon he now was, Atticus rose up fully. He placed himself beside Siya, and he pressed upwards with all his might against the orb. Hell itself channeled through Atticus, the incubus acting as a living conduit for the power of the underworld. The ethereal smoke buoyed up the ball, easing the burden upon the vampire and the demon. 

Even in spite of the mighty strength of the vampiress, and the malignant will of Hell itself, the orb’s destructive advance had only been slowed. It was only a matter of time before the vampire’s strength failed, and the demon’s body could channel no more of the Devil’s fury, and was banished into oblivion.