Maroon and Lily

A tap on the window dispersed the dark haze of dreams. Slowly opening his eyes, Maroon awoke, only then realizing he had fallen asleep. A small bird was tapping its beak against the cold glass adamantly demanding his attention. Rubbing his eyes lazily and yawning Maroon got to his feet and wobbled to the nearest window - a few rooms away from his secret study. The bird flew in and landed on his palm impatiently, flooding his mind with images that jolted him awake.

“For Gods’ sake, Ambus, you didn’t have to show me the bodies.” Maroon grumbled squeezing the robin in his palm. It squeaked but complied to his will and returned to its original shape of a simple feather. The rest of the report invaded his mind.

“There’s been an assault on Master Melody’s Academy for fine arts. 261 deaths, all human, ages 3 to 19, no injured ones and no eye-witnesses. Judging by the condition of the bodies it happened no more than 2 hours ago but even the angels in the area didn’t feel a disturbance in the aura of the facility. Traces of demonic taint, most likely of Nightwalker origin, were discovered in the courtyard but seem to be concentrated in one area whereas the bodies’ distribution resembles a pathway heading towards the main building. We couldn’t define the nature of the culprit, although judging by the slashes left on the bodies it appears to have been a demon. The protected demon and principle of the Academy, “Lily Quarin” is missing… And so are the essences of all the deceased.”

That’s it? That’s all they have?

“So you heard.”
Maroon startled and looked in the direction of the familiar voice. The ‘missing’ protected Lily Quarin was sitting on the window-sill, invisible for the dozens of alarms and traps that were supposed to annihilate any creature that was to set foot on his grounds uninvited.
“How--”
A bemused look fluttered on her lips.
“Not many demons could boast about seeing that dumbfolded expression on a seraph’s face.” She teased. “You let me in, remember? Centuries ago. You invited me in your life, allowed me to share your house, your life… your dreams…” The wink completed the embarrassment making Maroon blush and Lily snicker. Toying with people was long gone from her daily routine but she couldn’t help it this time. The way angelic immortality worked left them with the curious disadvantage of having not one, but multiple “young and innocent” periods which always lead to more than one naive mistake. And unlike regular angels, Seraphs were privileged to suddenly remember near all of them. “Once invited I’m always welcome, wherever you go, whatever’s protecting you, remember? We sealed that pact with blood, and just because you’ve changed bodies or houses doesn’t mean the deal is off.”
Maroon cleared his throat and rested his hand on Jeks’ head, more out of habit. That only irked him further - the doberman didn’t seem to mind the uninvited visitor one bit.
“I’m glad to see you’re alive. Maybe you can tell me what happened in Master Melody’s. ”
“Indeed I can.” Lily confirmed and slipped inside. She made herself comfortable on one of the chairs and braced herself for Maroon’s intrusion in her mind. He’d ransacked her memories on a regular basis when they first met, suspicious of everything she said or claimed to have said, and he used to be so clumsy at it that she’d often felt not only a strong mental, but even physical pain. In comparison when he stood in front of her now and placed his palm on her forehead, it felt like nothing more than a hazy flashback awoken by a dream. A much more unnerving feeling.
Maroon seemed pale as he removed his hand from her forehead, clearly shaken by the fact that the culprit was one of his own. To Lily’s knowledge a massacre like that only happened a few hundred years and were always foreseeable.
“It wears the body of an angel but fights like a demon…” Maroon read her thoughts out loud. Lily gave a nod. “And you didn’t happen to salvage any of her essence?” Lily shook her head.
Maroon sat down next to her and crossed his arms, staring at the opposite wall. After a moment he looked back at her.
“I’m going to ignore the fact that you’ve interacted, and quite happily so, with the Chimeric Lord, who seems to be residing in Loom currently...”
“As you should, he hasn’t done anything to provoke the Council just yet. If anything, one of his subjects has aided in the resistance against the flesh construct in Thorpe.” Lily assured him, noting that he hadn’t intruded in her thoughts more than she was allowing him to. If he had, he’d have noticed that by “just yet” Lily only meant the current visit of the Lord. And she was well aware of his past deeds.
“… and I will concentrate on the angel. Have you ever interacted with her?”
“No. Have you?”
“No. I have seen her in our last meeting, however, and I do know that she’s been submitting feathers for the Book of Fate as she should.”
“Well, then, you better check what those feathers hold. Clearly there’s something wrong with them if no one noticed her affinity to slaughter children with demonic weapons growing out of her hands.”
“No shit, Sherlock…” Maroon mumbled and got to his feet to get a sheet of paper and a pencil. He divided it in two columns and titled one “characteristics” and the other – “actions”. In the first column he wrote: “black wings”, “Battle”, “extends her claws?”, “can’t tell demon from human”. Under actions he put “obeys a demon”—he paused and looked at Lily.
“What about the essence of the human children? Who consumed that?”
Lily’s face twisted. “It must have been her. You saw it in my memories, it wasn’t me, nor the Chimeric Lord.”

Maroon frowned and stared at the sheet, tapping the pencil on the table. The time it took for the essence leave the body was anywhere from a few seconds to a few days, sometimes even years. That was the reason weak demons often hung around graveyards or funereal homes, scavenging the bits of energy. However that rate was different for everyone and it was highly unlikely for 261 to all depart within 2 hours. If no demon was around to consume them, that is. Maroon’s frown deepened and he added “consumes essence” to the “actions”.
“Can angels even do that?”
“No…” he admitted grimly. “However, when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. There’s no way known to either man, angel or demon, to destroy essence, and the vials we distributed only accept essence willingly given away by the source. Unless all victims willingly surrendered their lives to Hazumi we must conclude that she isn’t an angel at all.”
Silence set in the room as they both considered the possibility of something existing that defiled all logic.
“Is it possible that she’s an angelic child, possessed by a demon that lay dormant and feeds on the essence of her victims?” Maroon asked after a while.
“What is she, mid-twenties? I’d have to say no, angelic essence is irresistible. A demon in an angel’s body would have consumed her soul long ago.”
“I thought so..”
“What about a Tamer, who trapped a demon in her own body?”
“Impossible. No one would be crazy enough to do that, and even if they did, once the demon’s essence starts to mix with your own, it would be impossible to control. That’s madness, and a deadly one.”
Lily didn’t fail to notice how his feathers bristled at the thought but resisted the urge to smirk.
“…A human witch…?” She offered, feeling ridiculous voicing out that possibility of a human having enough skill, knowledge and stamina to become something so much… more.
Maroon frowned, doubt clear on his features.
“…if that’s possible, then it’s beyond my knowledge and comprehension.”
“Humans can lean either way, right? Become angels or demons.”
“But can they stay something in between?”
“I know of two peculiar cases that could give us some leads. Solus Grim - a sane human possessed by a demon, and Devin Windsler – a sane human possessed by both angel and demon.”
“I am aware of Devin Windsler’s case, we keep her under surveillance. However when she is using her demonic skills, her angelic wings disappear. She is a fascinating study on her own but I have a feeling Hazumi is a little different. Still, it might be worth seeking out both Solus Grim and Devin Windsler.”

"Why don't you just summon her and ask her personally? You could even invade her mind if she refuses, I'm sure."
"I'd rather know what I'm up against before I approach her. Her actions defy logic, I can't make sense of them. She battled the flesh construct yet attacked a protected demon - why? Whose side is she on? What powers does she hold? I'd rather get some information on her before I act. Furthermore... if she isn't really an angel, what is to say that the rest of the Council don't know what she is?"

“Aside of what she is, what can you tell me about her past?” Lily asked. Maroon looked at her and smiled grimly. “Are you officially Watson now?” “Might as well be, if you let me.” “Why not. I can always hunt you down. The pact works both ways, remember?” Indeed, it did. They had both sold their souls to the devil, hadn’t they.
“There are few Council records of her. She is 24 years of age, child to the fallen Kristine and an unknown father. Being a Dark angel she was denied access to the Council Building and only attended the annual feather-gathering. She didn’t stand out until she turned 13 and slayed Kristine who she was living with. The reasons for that remain unknown as the Council didn’t deem it important enough to investigate.”
“But slaying a human is a sin and a fallen is practically human, aren’t they?”
“Biologically, yes…”
“I get it. Traitors. The lowlifes of the angel world. Being let to live is the last grace they get.”
Maroon bit his lip and remained silent. Lily’s tone was matter-of-factly but that didn’t make the truth any less harsher. After a moment he continued.
“After the incident she visited the Council Building for the first time. She begged for a master but she was denied one. We decided to ignore her mother’s death and pretend it never happened. We believed that was the best punishment while still allowing her to live.”
“Well, that’s cruel. To refuse to even acknowledge her deed. And you never worried you might be overlooking something significant?”
“She never gave us a reason to worry. She has always served us since, always submitting feathers, her aura was clear on the Big Gathering day… We struggled not to judge her and she struggled to fit in.”
“Yet you always kept her at a distance.”
“As we do with all dark angels. They have no official education and are highly unpredictable.”
“Yet you never try to integrate them.”
“Every pack needs an omega to hold it together, Lily.”
“I’m not judging you, Maroon, all I’m saying is you made a mistake and it cost human lives. Those are the sins of the Council.”
“And it’s up to the Council to deal with them. A demon hardly has any right to talk about supporting their own.”
Bringing forth the age-old debate? He must be more aggravated than he ought to be. Maybe he hasn’t outgrown his human past after all.
“No, but at least we don’t pretend to. But enough of that, as you said, it’s your own problem. All I’m worried about is your precious Council coming after my ass for answers.”
“They won’t. I’ve seen your memories personally and should they doubt you, they can read my own.”
“Good. I would still prefer you to talk them out of attempting that. As you saw, I’m indebted to certain individuals myself.”
“Yes, Szayeis. What is he up to on the Surface, then?”
“Sightseeing.”
“…sorry?”
“The worlds are breaking apart and you’re asking why the Lord of Chaos is attending the party?”
The seraph didn’t seem to appreciate the sarcasm.
“I can’t guarantee his safety should he decide to become more than a spectator.”
“Szayeis is beside the point. Don’t worry about him for now.”

Maroon got to his feet and went back to the window, plucking one of his feathers. Staring at it he deleted any personal information from its memory and left only his orders.
- Track down Solus Grim and Devin Windsler and ask them to meet him at his mansion at 2 pm the following day.
- Organize a High mass for the deceased children. Have the Purge squad eliminate any memories of the deceased children on sight as soon as it’s over. Seek out the relatives and friends that failed to appear and erase their memories as well. Put no markers on the graves and have a Protected demon age the soil.
- Rebuild the Academy and hide all evidence of the accident.
Plucking a separate feather he repeated the procedure but added a different message. An invitation, to Szayeis, to visit him at his mansion at a time convenient for himself.
Holding the ends of the feathers in place, Maroon gently blew them until their shape changed to that of twin albino robins. The birds shook themselves and spread their tiny wings, flapping them out of the window.
“They’re so cute. Can I have one?” Lily joked.

“No.” was the predictable answer. Getting back to his seat Maroon noticed his note had changed. The word “Lord” had appeared after his “obeying a demon” and the minor detail of her presence being undetectable appearing on the other side. The seraph pointed out the first addition quizzically.
“You would be obeying a demonic lord if you ever met one.” Lily shrugged.
“Doubtful.”

“Well, what now?”
“Now I’ll go back to the council’s building and obtain Hazumi and Kristine’s life stories. Meanwhile you can make yourself useful by extracting her essence out of the flesh construct’s sample. The vial is in my study.” He ordered and left through the window.

“Yes, milord.” Lily muttered and got up, stretching. Maroon might have climbed up the ladder of power but his manners had gone down. As a good host he would usually offer her some of his blood – a refreshment she could definitely use after her ordeal earlier. But not today. Being a council member probably meant a ban on that practice as well. Well, at least he trusted her enough to let her roam his house and even go to his study and handle an official item such as that essence vial. Just make sure not to eat it. she reminded herself while she was following his aura’s mark back to his study. It took her a while to figure out how to pass through a solid wall but ultimately she managed. What she found on his desk stunned her. When she last saw the vial the different essences could clearly be distinguished like the colours in a rainbow. Well, that had changed. Now the liquid was homogenous – a dark red, almost black substance thick as tar.

Carefully Lily sat on the chair in front of the vial and slowly opened it. Putting out her finger she used her allure to summon a droplet out. It rested on her finger and she brought it to her tongue… and all hell broke loose.

A million voices started screaming a million requests in her head, and a million emotions overwhelmed her own. Lily spit violently but the essence stuck to her tongue like glue, the torture carrying on for a small eternity until she managed to reach for the vial and offer it to the droplet. It slid off then, obediently reentering the vial as if nothing had happened. Lily was left panting on the floor understanding perfectly for the first time what it must feel like to be possessed.

Solus, Lily and Maroon

Lily Quarin smiled a crooked smile as the bus stopped in front of the infamous bar “The Bleeding Demon”. The tasteless facility was well-known amongst the local demons as a place you don’t want to be. As a place that only had an entrance and not so much an exit unless you’ve already kicked the bucket. It was only the poor wanderers or frenzied demons that entered there and judging by the bad condition of the sign (whose neon letters weren’t all working) the bar’s seen better days. As an entrepreneur Lily would have taken another approach. Of course, she didn’t mind this being a trap for the dangerous elements threatening the peace in her city, but it seemed like a waste to utterly destroy the bodies. If it was her, she’d use the remains to feed the Protected – a good way to keep your business legal in the eyes of both the Council and the Protected and still allow humans their fun. But no, Hunters were tough people resilient to compromise and set in their ways of senseless racism. Something Lily did mind, as it still presented a threat to her, even after all those years on the Surface. Of course, Hunters would be prosecuted by the Council if they offed a Protected but she really doubted the humans cared.

Flicking her fingers Lily set a small illusion in place to alter the sign. She didn’t deem it appropriate for such a scary place – it deserved a more hellish make-over. It now looked to be made of flesh dripping fresh deep-red blood on the pavement below. And on the heads of the few passer-by. The humans screamed and scrambled away from the building causing the demon to smirk. Then she realized that giving a human a heart attack might not be the brightest idea under the current circumstance and quickly undid the spell.

Getting down to business, Lily examined the building with her demonic senses. She could clearly feel the passive hostility of the people inside and the fresh stench of blood and death that was seeped into the walls. She could also feel the presence of the beings inside, and of her target, Solus Grim, retreating from the pits of the torture-room in the basement. However, there was a Death Ward on the door that prevented her from entering. And while she could break through the wall, she didn’t believe that would be a great first impression either.

Well, since I can’t go in, I have to invite him out..

So she smiled, closed her eyes and sung. She sung a sweet song, one rivaling Melody’s skill with the harp and one that could lure any man to his demise. One she rarely sung and one that would make all the passer-by stop in their tracks and gather calmly around her, dazed like children around a magical storyteller.

---

Having finished his quick conversation with Rina on the phone, Solus made his way back up the stairs, and climbed out of a trap door behind the bar right by Fuse's feet. A few customers that had arrived minutes earlier that were muttering to eachother suddenly stopped at the sight of Solus clumsily climbing out from behind the bar. They all squinted at him with the look that he got used to long ago. [COLOR="#000000"]"Well, these are some hateful patrons..."[/COLOR] He muttered in Fuse's direction as the retired Demon Hunter pulled Solus aside to a quiet corner. "Well?" He asked as him and Solus took a set at a table. "What did you get out of her?"

Solus held out a bloody black gem in an open palm, solumly looking down at it. [COLOR="#000000"]"The same cryptic shit. She almost blew up on me from this little gem... An interesting killswitch."[/COLOR] Fuse glared at the black stone. "That thing nearly blew her up? Well, is she still alive?" Solus shook his head. [COLOR="#000000"]"Vampire dust."[/COLOR] Fuse sighed loudly, loudly enough for everyone in the bar to hear. "Just like every other lead..."

[COLOR="#000000"]"Well you were a big help anyway. Here's for the trouble."[/COLOR] Solus descretely handed Fuse a large roll of money. [COLOR="#000000"]"Oh and, um... Mind if I keep this?"[/COLOR] Solus pulled out a menacingly large silver knife from one of his pockets. Fuse looked down at the cash, that was roughly held together by an elastic band. "I guess that could conpensate for the bowie knife." Solus gave him his trademark jigsaw smile. [COLOR="#000000"]"Thanks, I'll see you around."[/COLOR] Solus stood up from the table and offered his hand, and of course, Fuse shook it. "You too." It had been a while since they saw each other on actual good terms. Solus wished he could catch up, but he didn't have much time, and the patrons were giving him the dirty looks he always recieved everywhere else.

Solus left the bar, to be greeted by a small crowd of people huddled around a singer, a great singer infact. Solus couldn't see through the bodies of all the people, so he had no chance of catching a glimpse of the singing person. He shook off the thought of joining the crowd, he might scare them all away anyway. So he continued towards his four wheeled tank at the end of the street. He had a girl to save.

Lily’s eyebrows fluttered up and she actually had to wonder if she wasn’t losing her touch due to not having used her voice like that for decades. She got to her feet, the crowd splitting to let her through, and stood just at the edge of it. With the same melodic, but slightly less serious and more amused voice, she called.

“Solus Grim? Are you going to ignore your date just like that?”

He was just about to pull out his keys from his pocket when he heard that. He spun on his heels as the essence maelstrom flowed the smell of a demon into his nostrils. His eyes widened with surprise. [COLOR="#000000"]"Lily the Muse..."[/COLOR] Solus said almost to himself. [COLOR="#000000"]"Should have known it was you showing off your skills. And I would hardly call you my date... If you know my name then you know my stance on demons."[/COLOR]

"Oh, I was using the word in the broad meaning." Lily waved her hand carelessly and muttered a "scram" under her breath that made the crowd disperse almost as fast as it had gathered. Putting her hands up in the air, palms facing Solus, she walked closer. "I see you've heard of me and I see that you have no immediate intention on using any fine piece of military art on me. Both facts flatter me. After all, I did come with peace. May I have a word with you? In private. Perhaps in that nice little basement down there?"

[COLOR="#000000"]"I doubt they would let you in there... You need a ride?"[\COLOR] Solus gestured towards his car, which stood overshadowed in the distance, making it difficult to make out it's details.

Lily mused. She could make them let her in, she could convince anyone to do anything but... it wasn't really worth it, was it? As valuable as this meeting could prove, she didn't have to gather all the attention in town for it. Being a Protected demon did by no means mean that you were immune. It just meant your life was almost as valuable as a human's... almost.
She didn't really need a ride either - she liked chatting with strangers on the bus who could later turn to valuable allies. But a bus was hardly the place for fateful conversations. So she nodded and silently got into his car. The smell of a female parfume that was lingering over the passanger seat and the driver seat made her smirk.

"Should I speak while you drive or do you have a place in mind?"

[COLOR="#000000"]"While I drive."[/COLOR] Solus said as he started the car and revved it. [COLOR="#000000"]"If you want a private conversation this is the safest place to have it. Where are we heading?"[/COLOR]

"East Beach." Lily siggested. Might as well. "Well, Mr Grim, I see you're not very weary of a demon seeking your attention in the middle of the night. As your elder I feel compelled to scold you and advise you to be more careful in these times of Chaos. While I see that you've had a very recent encounter with a poor possessed soul, many beings are entering the Surface that you should do best to avoid. Such as the flesh construct I heard you engaged a couple of days ago. A noble act but also a slightly foolish one, wouldn't you agree?"

The car set off with a roar that threw Lily into her seat. [COLOR="#000000"]"You are telling that to the very man who killed Mesphistopheles. So a scolding is pretty pointless. We will be at East Beach in..."[/COLOR] The car roared even louder as it accelerated to way beyond the speed limit. [COLOR="#000000"]"...five minutes. So get to the point."[/COLOR]

"Ah, but back when you dealt with the old fool there was no woman left in your apartment to await your return, no? You should be more careful now, a woman’s heart is fragile and too easy to break." She smiled, fondness more present on her face than malice. “In any case, it is exactly your attitude towards humans that lead me to you, Mr Grim. As I believe we share the goal of keeping Loom safe, I’d like to request your assistance on a certain matter. I am aware it isn’t the correct way to start our acquaintance but may I ask you how you became the way you are now? I am aware of the circumstance, however the information about what it feels like to be you is something I can only receive by asking you in person.”

Solus turned his head towards her as the car blasted past several other vehicles and passed two red lights. [COLOR="#000000"]"That's a story I just can't tell in... Four minutes. Now get to that certain matter before you run out of time."[/COLOR]

So this is as far as his patience went. 5 minutes, no more. He wasn’t exactly cooperative, so how much of the truth did he deserve?

"Ah, but that is the matter, Mr Solus. I’m afraid I have to insist. A Chimera like you is a rare occurrence however you are not the only one. There might be others like you, others, who might even outdo your skills, and we need to know what to think of them. I would have liked to have a civilized conversation with you and explain the matter in detail but if you’re pressured by time then we could take a shortcut too. I would like a sample of your essence, a simple drop of blood is sufficient. I assure you I’m going to destroy it as soon as I take a look at it and not use it for any… foul purposes."

The car slammed to a stop. Solus neck cracked as his head craned in her direction. The flame in his nostrils blew out like a blowtorch for a moment. [COLOR="#000000"]"If you seek my memories, you're not going to get them like that."[/COLOR] He said that as he knew how the essence would be used. He did after all, dabble with the art on occasions. Though a little difficult to manipulate for a human...

“I’m not after your memories, Mr Grim. At least not like that. I lack the skill to see through your essence like that. All I need is to compare its colour. That’s all. And I assured you that I will destroy the sample as soon as I look at it, didn’t I? Believe me, Mr Grim, if my intentions towards you were anything else but peaceful I would have chosen a different approach. Furthermore, the Council will choose another approach. You know their ways, and I don’t suppose you like them any more than I do.”

[COLOR="#000000"]"And their previous ways have failed..."[/COLOR] Solus muttered out. He closed his eyes and thought for a few moments. [COLOR="000000"]"Why do you need my essence? For what purpose?"[/COLOR]

"I need to compare it to a sample I already have. One we couldn't identify." Lily explained calmly. But she wasn't going to offer more than he offered her.

[COLOR="#000000"]"And from whom did this sample emerge?"[/COLOR]

“Oh, Mr Grim, I’m afraid our 4 minutes are running up. I thought you didn’t want to get involved in my little mission? If you insist on knowing more, I might insist on you giving me a reason to trust you more too. While I’m in the position to complete my given task, I’m by far not authorized to trust you blindly.”

Traffic was beginning to pile up behind and in front of the car as it was blocking both lanes. [COLOR="#000000"]"I see my time is being wasted."[/COLOR] Solus pushed a button on his door, and Lily's side door opened. [COLOR="#000000"]"We're done here."[/COLOR]

Lily sighed dramatically and shook her head.
“Really, Mr Grim, you disappoint me. Are you going to kick me out if I refuse to leave on my own accord?”

[COLOR="#000000"]"Yes."[/COLOR] His voice was, strange, for a moment.

“Great!” Lily smiled brightly and slipped out of the car with the grace of a dancer. Before she shut the door she leaned over and said. “The person in question, Mr Grim, is someone you know. I will visit you again with my request and hope to find you in a better mood.”

[COLOR="#000000]"Wait..."[/COLOR]

Lily stopped in the middle of the street and turned around with her hands behind her back. Smiling slightly, she walked back and stood next to the closed door, making no attempt to open it. If it could open automatically to let her out, then she assumed it could go the other way around too. That is, if he wanted her inside now.

[COLOR="#000000"]"Your request comes with a price, and that price is information. You will tell me what this is about. Everything. No more. No less. This offer is non negotiable."[/COLOR] Solus gripped the steering wheel, getting ready to leave.

Lily gave herself a moment to think this over. Maroon would certainly not be happy about this and he’d definitely object against a mere human holding information that could question the integrity and the ways of the Council. He would surely rather entrust it to any demonic Lord – a being much more dangerous but much more reasonable too.

Humans, humans were another story. Their illogical loyalty to their own kin made them highly unpredictable and much harder to understand for either the Council or the Lords.

However, Lily knew a lot about humans. She knew what they were and she knew what they were not. They were greedy, ignoble and stupid but they were also incredibly resourceful. Furthermore, they never lived their lives alone and their death always meant someone else’s anguish as well. A web so intricate and complex that it went far beyond demons' and angels' simple notions of good and evil.

“Mr Grim, I have observed your actions in the past few decades and I’m quite confident that I can trust you. However if I do, I will request that you trust me as well. If I am to offer you information, then I will have to deem you my accomplice. As such I will expect you to be loyal to me just as I will be to you. Would you allow me to seal your lips and prevent you from ever discussing the matter with anyone we don’t trust in exchange for information? If so, then we have a deal. If not, I will have to retreat empty-handed.”

[COLOR="#000000"]"Loyalty is as significant as a child's fart in the universe. Which is not at all."[/COLOR] Solus looked down at his tensed hands and shook his head. [COLOR="#000000"]"Fine, but don't mutter a word of my past to anyone."[/COLOR]

“I will have to. Two people you’re welcome to meet yourself. An angel and a demon. Ones I trust with my life, myself.” She smiled “And ones who probably wouldn’t give a shit anyway. They’ll only need to know what you are, not who.”

[COLOR="#000000"]"They'll be surprised..."[/COLOR] The passanger door opened again, welcoming Lily back in. [COLOR="#000000"]"Where to?"[/COLOR] The traffic now started blairing horns and shouts from angry drivers.

The demon went back in and put her seatbelt on. "Do you want to meet the angel now? If so, you know the destination. If not, you could just tell me and I will pass it on."

[COLOR="#000000"]"How the fuck would I know where to go with cryptic shit like that? Just tell me where I need to be..."[/COLOR]

"East Beach, as always." Lily laughed.

Solus just glared at her for a moment, and then slammed down on the accelerator to get the car on it's way.

---

The Mustang rolled into the elegant courtyard with a roar, stopping outside the steps that lead to the front door. The mansion itself was that of a relatively common design, similar to the rest of the properties it's size in East Beach. A nice Victorian design with fancy floral arrangements and a fountain with a statue peeing into the water. This angel's lack of taste was clearly visible to Solus, that he almost scoffed outloud. The building just screamed Hierarchy.

East Beach was the only district in town that was clean, orderly, and filled with overpriviledged soccer moms. Proagia's attempt at the American Dream. [COLOR="#000000"]"We're here."[/COLOR]

Lily stepped out of the car and stretched. Not waiting for Solus she made her way to the front door, pushing it open with ease. A red-haired angel in a simple black t-shirt and trousers was there to receive her, a little smirk crossing his features as he saw his unexpected guest and his vehicle.

“Seraph Maroon, Hunter Solus Grim.” Lily bowed theatrically but didn’t wait for a response, slipping past Maroon and straight into his living room down the hall. Maroon chuckled at her mockery and waved a hand at Solus in an accommodating gesture.

“Welcome, Master Grim. It’s a pleasure to have you.”

[COLOR="#000000"]"Let's not overdramatize this, shall we?"[/COLOR] Solus replied to the greeting with a cold glare towards the Seraph. Maroon, Solus knew who he was, the throne warmer for the last Seraph who's place he took. [COLOR="#000000"]"You could have told me I was meeting a Councilor."[/COLOR] Solus said to Lily.

“Why, would you have changed into a white robe?” Lily chuckled.

Maroon led his guest to the living room and sat opposite him at the tea-table.

“Well, Master Grim, you have my utmost gratitude for your cooperation. I asked my friend Lily Quarin to contact you in order to gain a glimpse of your essence but I’m glad to have you visit in the flesh. I would offer tea but I see you’re impatient to know the purpose of your presence. Of course, as you already know, we need a sample of your essence to compare to a sample we already posses. However due to some new information I have acquired I have to ask an even bigger favor of you – an access to your memories. Of course, I don’t wish to fully violate your private memories so we could avoid that if you agree to have your essence altered slightly into being unable to tell a lie. Of course, only temporarily. That way you could tell us what you deem necessary and avoid having your memories seen by anyone.”

[COLOR="#000000"]"I don't do handouts. If you want my memories to be of aid to you, you're gonna have to tell me what this is all about."[/COLOR] Solus replied, crossing his arms.

“Of course. But I have to warn you, should you be to misuse the acquired information, we will have to take less-civil actions.” Maroon warned and smirked. “Are you game?”

[COLOR="#000000"]"The Council has already been taking less-than-civil actions towards me..."[/COLOR] He paused for a moment. [COLOR="#000000"]"Probably without telling you..."[/COLOR] Solus shook his head and sighed. [COLOR="#000000"]"What have I got to lose?"[/COLOR]

“Your friends, your acquaintances, your city, your country…” Maroon shrugged. “It all depends on the scale of your treason and on the scale of our current matter.”

[COLOR="#000000"]"You'd be surprised to hear that I do not care about or have any of those things."[/COLOR] Solus uncrossed his arms. [COLOR="#000000"]"Alright then, deal. But you first. What's this about?"[/COLOR]

“Your words say one thing, Mr Grim but your actions say another.” Maroon said as he was getting up. “A man who doesn’t care doesn’t risk his life for strangers. We know of your devotion to the human race and we cherish that. We are on the same side, you should realize.” It was meant as a praise, even though Maroon was sure it wouldn’t be taken that way. Going over to the kitchen he clicked the electrical kettle on and turned around again, leaning on the counter.

“It might seem trivial to you but it’s concerning one of our own. We are encountered with a peculiar phenomenon… and we have to wonder if she really is what we thought she was. We know you have encountered her in your heroic battle against the flesh construct in Thorpe. It bothers us that an angel seems capable of utilizing valgria-like claws so we are currently trying to examine her real nature. Do you remember her, Mr Grim?”

Solus ignored his Same side comment, he wouldn't be making threats to kill innocent people if he actually gave a damn about humanity. [COLOR="#000000"]"I wouldn't say that job was heroic, I was getting paid for it."[/COLOR] Solus stared at the ceiling for a few moments, as if there was a nasty spot of mold up there. He looked back down towards the Seraph and said. [COLOR="#000000"]"I remember her, but I never caught her name..."[/COLOR]

“Her name is of no importance. What could you tell us about her? Have you noticed anything peculiar about her?”

[COLOR="#000000"]"For a black winged angel her abilities weren't the kind you see every day. She could harden her skin to be as strong as that of a Bomb Defusal Kevlar Suit, throw strands of her hair at people like needles, and she has those claws, as you mentioned."[/COLOR]

Maroon’s face showed his surprise. He turned ‘round and got some cups and sugar and tea out of the cupboard his hands mechanically mixing all the ingredients, his mind busy.

Hazumi was a Battle angel and as such she could modify her body but that much? Not even Original angels had this good of a control over their own flesh. Furthermore, all those traits belonged to demons he had heard of – bowalls, slithes, valgrias…. Was there even a single one, capable of all that?

“See, Mr Grim, this leads us to doubt her nature.” Maroon said thoughtfully , finally returning to the table with 3 cups of tea. “That is why we would like to confirm, or rule out, the possibility of her actually being possessed by a demon.” He tried not to show his discomfort at the thought that almost chilled him to the bone. Next to him Lily had blanched.

[COLOR="#000000"]"Possession is possible. But that girl really hates demons. She attacked me on sight thinking I was a demon, no surprise considering that she is uneducated by the Academy, and my face being a plus to that. I told her that I am human..."[/COLOR] Solus took his cup and dunked the spoon that was provided to him into the tea, stiring it around a bit. [COLOR="#000000"]"...she immediately realized she made a mistake, and took pity on me. What exactly did she do to get your attention?"[/COLOR]

“She assaulted my school. Master Melody’s Academy for Fine Arts, the best music school in the country. She killed near half my students-- ” Lily’s voice broke and she fell silent, squeezing her cup of tea.

Solus' jaw clenched, [COLOR="#000000"]"How many?"[/COLOR]

“Two hundred sixty one.” Maroon answered. “Within 5 minutes.” Lily added dully.

The seraph cleared his throat.

“Which leads us to question both her loyalties and her right to live.”

Solus closed his eyes in thought as he took a sip of the tea. [COLOR="#000000"]Not again[/COLOR]. Solus thought to himself as the beverage trickled down his rough throat. [COLOR="#000000"]She pulled another poor dark wing into her web of lies "I may have a theory, Maroon. But you won't like it..."[/COLOR]

"That I'm sure of." Maroon nodded with a stern face.

Solus stared at his feet for a moment, thinking about how to tell Maroon about what was on his mind without pissing him off. He was already in enough trouble with the Council. [COLOR="#000000"]"Within your Council there is a Battle Seraph known as Phaliah, and her actions have been questionable in the last century... Knowing that the suspect you speak of is a black wing... em..."[/COLOR] He froze to think again. [COLOR="#000000"]"Black Wings search for a way to belong among their White Winged kin, and they would anything for the Council..."[/COLOR] He sounded like his voice was trailing off. [COLOR="#000000"]"I would say that she was perhaps sent on a mission to kill Lily, and was also lied to about the kids, so that the Black Wing would be considered a rogue without a second thought."[/COLOR] He stopped again to let that sink in. [COLOR="#000000"]"What we need to find out is if this girl was given an order. Ask the girl who ordered the attack on the school yourself, she won't lie to you."[/COLOR] Solus continued. [COLOR="#000000"]"Phaliah, as you probably already know by now Maroon, is a massive xenophobe. She hates Greys and Blacks with every inch of her being, and from what I heard, she doesn't like the idea of Protected Demons either."[/COLOR] Solus decided to ask a quick question. [COLOR="#000000"]"Sorry to derail my train of thought here but this is important... Do you have like, Council meetings or anything of the sort on a regular basis?"[/COLOR]

Maroon stared at Solus for a long moment trying to decide if it was vital to know how the heck the human knew of the Council’s inner workings. He knew Philiah, and this man’s theory wasn’t too hard to believe yet it was still outrageous to hear such accusations from a human's mouth.

“I’m afraid my status isn’t high enough to question her actions, Mr Grim. I appreciate your concern and I will do my best to revise her past actions.” Although the chances to actually manage were nigh zero percent. Just an empty promise to quell the spirits and allow him to change subject.
“Well then… could I ask you to complete your part of our deal as well?”

"I haven't finished." Solus retorted. "If Phaliah saw this Black Winged kid, and wanted to get rid of Lily, she had an opportunity to hit two birds with one stone. Kill a Protected using the Black Wing and get rid of said Black Wing by framing her for mass murder. The kid then gets her wings clipped and that's the end of it. Because... Who's going to believe her story... Right? She's just a filthy Fallen now." Solus took a couple of steps towards the Seraph and said. "I'm sure you have a lot of questions. The answers to them are in my memories..."

Maroon was a bit taken aback by both the accusations to the Council and the sudden honesty of the man before him and reminded himself for the 100th time that he shouldn’t underestimate the humans so severely. With a serious expression and a nod he placed a hand on the stranger’s forehead and peered into his memories.

Maroon's skull was immediatly flooded with visions, fragmented memories. It was like Solus' mind was a broken mirror, shattered and messy. But Solus fed Maroon what he wanted him to see.

---

[COLOR="#000000"]"You... You bitch!"[/COLOR] A young black winged male angel shouted towards the Six Winged Seraph. The Black Wing, a young caucasian angel with shaved black hair and green eyes, dressed in casual clothing that was custom to the mid 1980s. And the Seraph, a pristine blonde female with six golden wings, her body armoured in gold plating. [COLOR="#000000"]"Why... why did you..."[/COLOR] Both of them stood in what appeared to be an old park, during the cold winter, well clear of any human population, especially at this time of night. [COLOR="#000000"]"YOU MADE ME KILL ALL THOSE PEOPLE!"[/COLOR] The Six Winged Seraph chuckled to herself clearly amused by the Dark Angel's suffering. "You were always so gullible Azazel, just like the rest of your kind, black winged gullible filth." The Dark Angel stood there, simply speechless, staring at the Seraph with a dropped jaw. [COLOR="#000000"]"You'll pay for this Phaliah... The Council will hear of this!"[/COLOR] Hissed Azazel through his clenched teeth. "Ha! And who's going to believe you? The Academy? The White Wings? The other Members? The blood is on your hands, and you're just a dirty Black Wing, I however, am a prestigious member of the Council. Now answer the question, who's going to believe you over me?"

Azazel knew the answer all too well, no one would. He was alone just like every other Black Wing, alone and helpless, cowering in this dark corner of the world. His head lowered in despair. What could he do? Kill a Seraph? They would just flatten the city. He wouldn't be able to beat her anyway. And he won't let anymore innocents die. He couldn't take that burden, the guilt. It would turn him insane. Turn himself in? They would just kill him. "All you can do is run, Azazel..." The Seraph continued. "...run, run like the coward you are!"

[COLOR="#000000"]"I ain't running..."[/COLOR] He replied. [COLOR="#000000"]"I'll leave, but mark my words Phaliah. I will return, and I will crucify you and watch as you bleed..."[/COLOR] Phaliah was not impressed, or frightened by the threat, just gave him a hearty laugh to mock him as his massive wings pumped and lifted him into the air.

---

Maroon felt his sides heat up with anger. Of course he knew Philiah was a nasty person and tended to misuse her position. It had angered him for the past 50 years and that was only based on her attitude towards the dark angels in the Council building. It was entirely different seeing this. Why the hell did the Council tolerate that?

Breathing out he forced himself to calm down. It wasn’t his place to question his superiors, his own position was shaky enough. Besides, who knew what had actually happened?

Fool. It’s obvious who’s telling the truth. He should seek that dark angel out. If he was still alive.

---

An earlier memory emerged in Maroon's mind, two days prior to the one he saw earlier he assumed.

Phaliah and Azazel stood together in the Great Hall of the White Tower, seeming on better terms. "I see you have answered my call." Phaliah commented to the Dark One as he stood there, looking around in awe. Clearly he had never been to the tower before, but Maroon would recognize that Hall all too well. [COLOR="#000000"]"This place... i-it's amazing!"[/COLOR] Azazel replied, obviously awe-struck. "Yes..." Phaliah continued, huffing up her chest proudly. "And there is more to see once you prove youself. A chance to crack it in the Academy awaits."

[COLOR="#000000"]"I can't believe it... Finally I'll belong..."[/COLOR] The Dark One replied still absorbing the heavenly interior. "You know your mission then. Kill Amethis, and end the lives of those tortured souls, send them to the void."

[COLOR="#000000"]"Of course. Anything for the Council."[/COLOR]

"Good." Waving at him in a Be off with you motion.

---

Amethis, the Protected demon who had been working in the field of Quantum Theory for over 2 millenia only to be killed along with 36 of his students by a culprit that was never caught.

The seraph felt a chill run down his spine. This was more than evidence, Solus wasn’t just a Hunter, he was a witness. And Maroon had a terrible feeling he was even more than that…

---

Suddenly Maroon felt like his wings were being torn out of his shoulders, but he would momenteraly realize that it was just a side effect of the memory.

The memory was two days after the first vision. All he could see was Azazel, sitting on his knees rocking back and forth. He was muttering something, but it was hard to make out, it was however slowly getting clearer as Azazel's voice rose in volume. [COLOR="#000000"]"I'm not worthy. I'm not worthy. I'm not worthy."[/COLOR] He repeated the same words over and over again, gradually getting louder. He suddenly grabbed the joints of his wings, his hands as strong as vices. Now his voice was at shouting point. Then, he pulled. The wet crack of his wings dislocating was sickening, gut wretching. The angel screamed in pain. But he didn't let up, he kept pulling.

The flesh around his shoulders began to break and bleed, the tendons that held the wings on his shoulder wetly ripped and sprang apart like broken rubber bands. The angel stopped, but the wings weren't severed yet. He panted, regaining his breath, then he began to repeat the same words again. [COLOR="#000000"]"I'm not worthy."[/COLOR]

He pulled for the last time, and the wings were no longer a part of him. He dropped them behind him, and his arms slumped to his sides. The two open wounds were the wings used to be, clearly visible for all to see.

---

Maroon removed his hand as if it was on fire. He should be used to it by now, to seeing disgusting things but this was a whole new level of disgusting. Never, in his 3 millennia of conscious existence, had he seen or heard of anything like that. And he honestly could’ve gone without witnessing it.

His wings twitched absent-mindedly in a convulsion that wasn’t his own. He was vaguely aware of Lily’s fixed stare and of how less than dignified he must look right now and he tried to regain his composure. Clearing his throat and tucking his wings closer together, he spoke.

“Forgive me. I have ventured too deep. Could you... Could you please concentrate on the demon incident so I find my way easier..” He asked, his voice annoyingly uncertain. He tried his best not to stare at the man who had once been one of his kind and had lost everything, even his face, at the hands of the organization he was serving.

Solus' eyes were closed as Maroon made his request. [COLOR="#000000"]"Isn't what I showed you evidence enough?"[/COLOR] He asked opening his eyes. His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, a broken one. He sighed. He didn't want to show him any more, but he knew he had to. [COLOR="#000000"]"Alright..."[/COLOR He acknowledged, closing his flaming eyes again.

The seraph cursed his job for the hundredth time in his life. He thought that would actually be a happier memory. He’d love to quit now but he couldn’t. Whether Hazumi was tricked into attacking the school or not didn’t change the fact that there was something abnormal about her essence. And it was his duty to get his hands dirty and unravel it.

“I don’t have to see your memories.” He tried to negotiate. “You’ve gained my trust. I understand what you were saying and why. I believe now your version of events might well be true. However you came here with another purpose, and we still need to know whether you and Hazumi became the same kind of being. I still need to know what you are so I might know what she is.”

[COLOR="#000000"]"Fine."[/COLOR] Said the Necromaster, taking a seat in one of the fancy, yet comfortable chairs. Solus wasn't sure whether to tell him all the details or just keep it simple. [COLOR="#000000"]"You want the short version or the long version?"[/COLOR] He said, grabbing the cup of his tea that had now gone cold. He didn't give two shits if it was cold or not. Well, actually... He did.

He put the cup down and asked. [COLOR="#000000"]"Do you have anything stronger? I need a stiff drink after that..."[/COLOR]

Maroon nodded and moved to the top right cabinet – one that didn’t stand out in any way but held the greatest treasures in the room. Well, save for the one full of exotic spices. He returned with 3 glasses of whiskey… and the bottle.

Lily took hers silently and finished it with one swift motion, but remained otherwise silent and discreet.
Maroon decided to help Solus out with some leading questions that might save him some trouble.

“If I remember correctly your current look is the result of you defeating a Hellion. Did you find a way to assimilate his abilities and utilize them for yourself? Or is he sealed away in your body?”

[COLOR="#000000"]"Both"[/COLOR] Solus replied. [COLOR="#000000"]"It took 3 years to seal him away. During that time he was in total control of my body. He used it to cause havoc in the neighboring cities. He had his own plans for me, and I had plans for him. His plan was, to use my body as a way of bypassing Melody. Making my body his own, mutating it to fit his needs, hence my current condition."[/COLOR] Solus lazily gestured towards his face with his right hand. [COLOR="#000000"]"My plan was to steal his powers, and then purge his soul and syphon it into a Soul Stone. But that failed."[/COLOR]

“And currently?”

[COLOR="#000000"]"Currently what?"[/COLOR] Solus asked, a little confused by Maroon's inquiry.

"Currently are you able to use his abilities without his permission? Does he.. still live inside you?"

Solus chuckled. [COLOR="#000000"]"His powers? They are a part of me now. They're not his anymore."[/COLOR] Solus took a hold of the whiskey glass and chugged it down in one go. Setting down the empty glass he continued. [COLOR="#000000"]"And yeah, he's still in there, and not because he wants to be."[/COLOR] He kept it short. But they were direct answers.

“I presume you’re using magic to keep him sealed away. However Hazumi has her wings intact and angels cannot use magic.” Maroon sighed.

“May I take a peek at your essence?” Lily spoke. “It might give us some answers.”

Solus smiled. [COLOR="#000000"]"You won't get anything out of it, but sure."[/COLOR] He got off his chair and walked over to Lily offering his hand, which was supernaturally smooth, as smooth and as soft as a baby's bottom. Really easy to cut or rupture at the palm. On closer inspection, it looked like it had been severely burnt at one point. The skin had been almost singed off completely, but somehow healed with minimal scaring.

Lily gently held his hand and quickly ran a pointy fingernail over it. The cut wasn’t deep but it was deep enough to form a small deep-red drop. The demon stroked his hand, taking a second longer to curiously examine it, before taking the little droplet between her fingers and held it like a glass bead, staring right through it.

Maroon helpfully offered her a small glass vial full of what seemed like tar which she took in her free hand.

“There is a slight similarity between them… The deep red colour though Hazumi’s is almost black. If you look closely at Mr Grim’s you could notice the swirling darker and lighter shades of red, which is absent in the second sample. I would have to confirm that the essence in the vial seems more homogenous… However even if it was entirely of demonic origin it wouldn’t be so dark.”

“Right.” Maroon said with a sigh. Filling his guest’s glass once more he smiled wearily. “Thank you for your cooperation… Mr Grim. My guest room is at your service. And even if you should be to decline, I would be happy to meet you again.”

Solus waved away the second drink. He only needed one. [COLOR="#000000"]"Thanks for the offer, but I need to go... Don't worry, I'll see myself out."[/COLOR] Solus turned, and walked away from the Angel and Demon duo, who watched him walk away.

“Mr Grim.” Lily called after him and walked over, reducing her voice to a whisper. “If there is anything we can do for you, please don’t be afraid to say so. Even if it’s concerning certain.. permanent illusions. We are indebted to you.”

Solus raised a rhetorical eyebrow. [COLOR="#000000"]"Permanent illusions? What does that mean?"[/COLOR] Solus was a much more direct individual who never bothered to use bullshit words, everything with him was always simple.

Lily gently reached out and placed her hand on his cheek. “I mean this. I’m a siren.. my job is to enchant. Shall you ever desire a more.. regular life, I could aid you.”

[COLOR="#000000"]"Honestly, I prefer it this way. I think it's better if people see me for what I am, rather than have them look upon a lie."[/COLOR] Solus said whilest gently pushing her hand aside. [COLOR="#000000"]"Either way, your debt is noted."[/COLOR] Solus turned around again, and made his way towards the front door. A lot of things were on his mind as he walked down the steps towards his car. He just spilled the more troubling time of his past to a Council member. [COLOR="#000000"]You stupid fool.[/COLOR] He thought to himself. He didn't trust Maroon, not with his history.

He climbed into his car and started it up. The fuel pumped in the engine and ignited, pumping the pistons of the V10 and making it roar to life. He gripped the steering wheel hard. There were a lot of risks with giving away his past like that, more than he could count off his fingers. He sighed heavily. [COLOR="#000000"]"Well that was quite the experience."[/COLOR] With that phrase hanging in the air, he set off to his next location. An address sent to him via SMS on a magic phone from some Demon Lord Solus never heard of. What could go wrong...?

Well... Just about everything....

Szayeis, Lily, Maroon and Solus

The tapping of a claw on a wine glass resonated throughout the room as Maroon and Lily proceeded to finish watching Solus leave. The shadows in the room would promptly appear to shudder and spread out, only to shrink away as a figure composed of pure darkness waltzed out from Maroon's office and began to gradually shift into a more humanoid form. However, all the while those terribly beautiful, blue chimeric eyes shone and pierced all illusion, seeming to emanate madness even as they did so. There was a light chuckle as the dark hand formed skin, its digits grasping a wine glass filled with pure essence...angel essence. [FONT=Arial Black][COLOR="#00002E"][SIZE=3]“You do host intriguing guests, seraph. Oh and I do apologize, but a patrolling angel happened upon me. Granted I would have let him be, but he simply insisted on having my full attention.”[/SIZE][/COLOR][/FONT] The nightwalker then proceeded to take a sip from the wine glass and set it deftly down on an intricate table, one that was quickly overtaken by shadows as to protect the cup from the hands of either Lily or the Seraph, Maroon.

With the rest of his body having almost fully taken its typical human form, Szayeis rolled his neck, cracking it as if getting used to the body, and smiled his ever so charming smile at Lily. [FONT=Arial Black][COLOR="#00002E"][SIZE=3]"Ahh, you're looking well. Much better than when we last met."[/SIZE][/COLOR][/FONT] He then glanced towards Maroon, cocking an eyebrow as he looked the angel over briefly.

[FONT=Arial Black][COLOR="#00002E"][SIZE=3]"Hmm, so you're the one who sent me an invitation. You know, you really shouldn't have...now I have access. Regardless, what is it you wished to address, my dear councilman?"[/SIZE][/COLOR][/FONT] There was an air of arrogance about Szayeis and it was something that Maroon would likely abhor on some level. In fact, only Lily would understand that Szayeis was only testing the angel's resolve and ability to deal with him. Not to mention trying to make the seraph prove his worth, after all, to Szayeis angels were little more than an amusing nuisance.

Maroon had felt the demon’s presence thickening long ago so he didn’t twitch, nor did he make an attempt to get up from the couch. He just turned his head enough to be able to look at the demon with one eye, a frown set on his features.

“Ah. My bad. Most of the demons I host have better manners than that. There was no way for me to know that you’d bring your most recent kill straight to my home. Or is that the demonic idea of hospitality – the equivalent of a cat bringing a bird to its master?”

Lily let out a sigh loud enough for both to hear and crossed her arms. She hated being in the same room with two men considering themselves to be on top of the world. It was always the same, no matter what race they belonged to.

“Could we, for 5 minutes, pretend to be civil? Or should I leave you and come back later?”

Maroon offerred his glass of whiskey in the air in a “cheers” gesture and took a sip without waiting for the appropriate response. On habit he would have said “make yourself at home” but realizing the ridiculousness of the thought he immediately dismissed it.

“We’re discussing the nature of our renegade angel Hazumi, the one you encountered earlier today. Maybe you have an idea of what she is, milord?”

Szayeis chuckled, his smirk widening a bit and then he laughed and threw his hands up almost dismissively as a shadowy tendril retrieved his glass. As he lowered his hands he gently cradled the glass and mirrored the cheers, taking a sip of the delectable essence, though he had certainly had better. [FONT=Arial Black][COLOR="#00002E"][SIZE=3]"Oh come now, it's nothing but playful banter. Besides, I meant no offense, not really. If I meant that I'd have blown a hole in the wall."[/SIZE][/COLOR][/FONT] As Maroon prompted him, the lord tilted his head slightly and then nodded, his eyes darkening somewhat as he remembered the black winged pest. [FONT=Arial Black][COLOR="#00002E"][SIZE=3]"Yes, an impressive willpower to that one, I must admit."[/SIZE][/COLOR][/FONT] Seeming to contemplate the encounter for a long moment, Szayeis glanced at Lily, his eyes reading her for a moment before he again spoke. [FONT=Arial Black][COLOR="#00002E"][SIZE=3]"She is corrupted, that much I can tell for sure. Unlike the two of you, I do not require blood or the like to analyze essence. I am a nightwalker, and just as we are rather...ethereal, so are our perceptual abilities."[/SIZE][/COLOR][/FONT] With this out of the way, he took a sip and then continued, [FONT=Arial Black][COLOR="#00002E"][SIZE=3]"I can say that her essence was very...murky. In fact, from how she held herself, I imagine she is unaware of what she is. I doubt you could ask her directly about it, though I suppose there are some questions that might work."[/SIZE][/COLOR][/FONT]

Suddenly smiling a little, Szayeis stopped twirling his glass slightly and then looked directly at Maroon. [FONT=Arial Black][COLOR="#00002E"][SIZE=3]"You have a sample, don't you?"[/SIZE][/COLOR][/FONT] It was almost a statement of fact. The real question would be, for Maroon at least, how did he know?

Maroon nodded and gestured to the couch opposite him.

“All we have is on the table.” He admitted not allowing himself to question his choice of allying himself with the demon lord, rather than with his own kin. He didn’t trust the Lord… but he trusted Lily and she trusted him. “But the sample we have is itself mystifying. It’s a sample of the flesh construct that struck Loom not so long ago. Immediately after acquiring it it was showing different layers of essence, respectively belonging to each individual that served as material to build the construct. Hazumi’s essence was one of many amongst it. It was dark-red in colour, almost black. A day later, however, it’s this tar-like substance that you see today. Lily said it resembled the one Hazumi had which leads us to believe her essence somehow merged with the others and prevails over the others. The fact that it didn't seem to be the case with the construct's own essence probably means it wasn't his doing but rather hers.”

Nodding his head, a shadow appeared by the sample and enveloped it. The vial then came out of the palm of the lord's free hand, the skin briefly appearing as a dark shadow before it shifted back. Looking it over for a brief moment, Szayeis raised an eyebrow and uncorked the vial, extracting less than a drop of liquid and seeming to test it between his fingers. However, since he was a nightwalker, it might as well have been the same as when Lily had put it to her tongue.

Except...Szayeis was used to have a cacophony of maddening voices writhing through his skull. As such, he was able to easily sift through the memories and then absorb the essence almost entirely, replacing the cork onto the vial and allowing it to reappear through a shadow onto the table. [FONT=Arial Black][COLOR="#00002E"][SIZE=3]"Hmmm..."[/SIZE][/COLOR][/FONT] he said inquisitively, closing his eyes, the infamous eyes of Praestrigia, a power that even the youngest and most untrained black winged angel would know of. Focusing, Szayeis nodded and then a grin spread across his features slowly and he spoke. [FONT=Arial Black][COLOR="#00002E"][SIZE=3]"We have ourselves a chimera..."[/SIZE][/COLOR][/FONT] he said without explanation, seeming incredibly amused by the idea. What he meant, however, would be a mystery...one solved only by the questioning of the two old friends.

Maroon’s first instinct was to point out how ridiculous that claim was. His second thought was that that was indeed the only possible explanation to what they were faced with.

“A chimera?” Lily asked, who obviously had no inhibitions to admit she didn't understand. “But the essence is homogenous… is there a being that could be an angel and a demon at once? Wouldn’t one essence consume the other?”

Szayeis' smile spread wider at Maroon's seeming disbelief, and then his eyes opened as Lily asked the most wonderful of questions. "Oh, I'm so glad you asked," he said with a devilish grin spread across his face. "It has little to do with their original demon, and more to do with how their body handles essence. This is quite a unique case, I do think, in fact I'd say that there have only been several such cases in history." Chuckling lightly, the nightwalker gracefully lowered himself into a seat, the glass still in his hand before he took a brief sip and continued. [FONT=Arial Black][COLOR="#00002E"][SIZE=3]"Hazumi has found a way, whether intentional or not, to consume the essence of other beings. I cannot say exactly how this process takes place, but I can say it likely has something to do with her willpower. Hmmm, how was it you described it Lily? Resolute, yet still undecided and faltering? Something like that."[/SIZE][/COLOR][/FONT] Closing his eyes briefly, Szayeis nodded and rolled his neck, popping some of the muscles into place. [FONT=Arial Black][COLOR="#00002E"][SIZE=3]"Something is off, but I do believe that is the jist of it. Oh and in regards to the methodology. I can only say that it likely has some relation to the contradictory nature of her essence. It falters enough to allow other essence to enter it, but retains enough resolute willpower to dominate that which enters. If I didn't know better, I'd say it is a skill she has trained."[/SIZE][/COLOR][/FONT] He then shrugged, taking another sip from the wine glass.

Silence set in the room for a long moment while the other two tried to grasp the idea.

“Interesting theory... but see, the problem is Hazumi never stood out. She hasn’t been our most capable fighter and she was never the most trusted soldier of the Council. Until a decade ago she was practically invisible. If she really has abilities far superior to those of her higher-ups, then why hasn’t she attempted to make use of it to change her position? If she’s loyal to the Council then she would have tried to undertake bigger tasks than just dealing with small flies. And if she isn’t loyal to the Council, then who is she loyal to?” Maroon mused out loud, leaning heavily back in the couch.

“Maybe she’s just a follower rather than a leader.” Lily suggested. Maroon only scoffed dismissively. “Not with the way we treat dark angels. Anyone capable of getting out of that position, would.”

“That’s not something you should be admitting so freely.” Lily teased.

“I’d hardly be impressed by the moral lecture of a demon, now, would I.” Maroon snapped.

The western lord chuckled quietly at their banter and his smirk continued to persist as he watched the interaction between demon and angel, something he did not often have the pleasure of viewing. [FONT=Arial Black][COLOR="#00002E"][SIZE=3]"Yes, I imagine you wouldn't be, seraph,"[/SIZE][/COLOR][/FONT] Szayeis quipped, [FONT=Arial Black][COLOR="#00002E"][SIZE=3]"angels tend to take their cues from only their own kind, a terrible mistake if you ask me. I mean, your relations with the other races are surely the best they could be."[/SIZE][/COLOR][/FONT] His smirk spread into a toothy grin, his teeth sharpening briefly as he gazed with an amused, calm, air at the seraph.

“Well, of course.” Maroon agreed calmly. “They are the best they could be, given that we can’t freely enter Hell and spread our wings out there. Now, here, on the Surface, I’d say we have everything under control. We keep our friends close and crush our enemies under our boot. I can’t complain. Your kin is also privileged. Many find the freedom here that they couldn’t dream of back in their 'home'. Like our friend Lily here.” The angel gestured to Lily who looked away with an annoyed expression, obviously wishing she was somewhere else right now.

Szayeis shrugged and his mischievous grin shrunk back down to an amused smirk. "I'll not crush your little fantasy," the lord stated nonchalantly as he finished his glass of angel essence and then gently set it down on the table through a shadow. [FONT=Arial Black][COLOR="#00002E"][SIZE=3]"Regardless, I think you underestimate her ability to adapt, hell, anyone's ability to do so."[/SIZE][/COLOR][/FONT] Nodding his head slowly, Szayeis thought seriously for a long moment before once again filling the room's silence with his smooth charming voice. [FONT=Arial Black][COLOR="#00002E"][SIZE=3]"From what I sensed she was not only loyal to the council, but blindly so, not to mention the fact that she does not appear to think herself anymore than a servant willingly fullfiling any whim the council pushes upon her. She knows she does not belong, and she believes that she never will...and so she makes no effort. Her life is meaningless to her, and thus so is its worth."[/SIZE][/COLOR][/FONT] He then fell silent, seeming strangely solemn as he waited for a response, for it was something he knew from experience, though not as directly as anyone present might have thought, not that either of them knew a single thing about his past.

No one did.

Maroon nodded. Solus had said something similar. Maybe it was indeed true. Everyone seemed convinced the girl was just being manipulated and was actually innocent. Given her past, however, he had to wonder. After all, she had slain her powerless mother for reasons that remained unclear to the day. Looking over the note and mentally concluding it with a “Chimera” inference at the bottom he let out a small sigh. How had that happened? And what should happen from now on? If she indeed held the key to a new ability capable of overcoming boundaries then maybe she was most valuable alive. But if she was so easily influenced by both the Council and the demon lords, then maybe she was too dangerous to be left unattended.

There was one final piece missing. The feathers. Hers and her mothers’. The ones he couldn’t acquire earlier today when he went to the Council building. The ones that held all the missing parts.

In the silence Lily had fixed her eyes on Szayeis. She had known him long enough to notice the subtle variations of his attitude… and she didn’t remember a case when he’d remained silent with anything other than a smirk over his features. Her curiosity made her stare for a second longer than was socially acceptable and as soon as she realized that she removed her gaze and leaned back in her own couch with a sigh.

“So kill her.” She concluded and smiled. “Ends your problems neatly. You can dissect her afterwards if you’re that curious.” Maroon threw her a grim stare and she shrugged in response. “Or tame her. I know you can, and surely the Council can forgive you, given the circumstance.”

“Revenge is not a virtue, Lily.”

“It is, in my world.” Lily stretched and grinned at Szayeis. “Are you staying for the day?”

Maroon glared at her and his knuckles went white squeezing his crossed arms.

[FONT=Arial Black][COLOR="#00002E"][SIZE=3]"The day..."[/SIZE][/COLOR][/FONT] the nightwalker said absentmindedly as the two finished. He noticed Maroon's glare, even without looking at him, only to then glance up and lock eyes with the seraph. For a brief moment the tamer would feel an incredible pressure and the room would darken, the lightbulbs appearing to all shatter. Lily would see nothing, the room would remain the same, but for Maroon it would take several seconds for him to readjust, and when he did the lord stood just before him, looming over him and no longer in any kind of human guise. [FONT=Arial Black][COLOR="#00002E"][SIZE=3]"You will pay if you kill her," he said darkly, his voice no longer even vaguely human.Thought he still possessed a vaguely humanoid body-type, it was certainly nothing of that kind, not even close.

Grey armor seemed to drape his form, bizarre runes carved on their surface. Beneath were clothes composed of pure shadow that flowed off from his body and played throughout the room as the light returned. However, the lightbulbs flickered and sputtered, no longer from the illusion of the eyes. The outburst would seem...completely out of place, and the form would be entirely alien, even to Lily.

The last time it had been seen, was during the Great War and none of them were old enough to remember.

Yet despite the armor, the frightening display of what was obviously controlled power, and even the outburst, what would strike them most was the fact that this form had no eyes. None at all.

It made no sense, for even the youngest of angels would know that the lord of the Western realm should have been unable to take a form that did not possess those trademark eyes, and yet here one was...doing just that.

After a long moment of sightless glaring, Szayeis turned from the seraph and walked towards Maroon's office, each step leaving black marks on the carpet, which would quickly dissipate into the air, seeming to corrupt it as it did. [B][FONT=Arial Black][COLOR="#00002E"][SIZE=3]"If force becomes necessary, simply say my name at the stroke of dusk when the sun hides its face behind the horizon and I will get you her dark stained feathers."[/SIZE][/COLOR][/FONT] He then continued to walk towards the office's doorway, the only thing that might stop him was a reaction from the other two, a reaction that could easily cost them life or limb, not that they knew.

The sudden shift of mood did surprise Maroon but it didn’t catch him off guard. He had been dealing with demons long enough to have a perfectly good idea of how they tick and he hadn’t let his tamer senses relax for even a second after Szayeis first entered the room. And so he realized when things got dangerous and he immediately put up a strong mental barrier around his own mind.

What he didn’t expect was that it wouldn’t work to its full extent and that some of the illusion still penetrate.

He also didn’t expect Lily to prove the reason for this sudden aggression.

Once the threat was set the figure started shifting and the impossible happened – what was deemed as the giveaway of the Western Lords vanished.

Maroon could have overlooked all this. Could have considered it vanity or arrogance. Could have dismissed it as unimportant.

But once the demon started heading in the direction of his secret study everything became all too serious.
And while it was carelessness to risk an angel’s life for a petty few documents, those documents weren’t petty and it would be carelessness to risk the lives of millions of humans they held without even attempting to save them.

The Seraph jumped to his feet, his gigantic wings flaring even as he did so. Thousands of invisible threads shot out of them aiming at Szayeis’ mind while his hand was pointed at Lily with an open palm, a transparent red string wrapping tightly around her neck like a leash and making her squeal.

“One more step and she loses her head.” Maroon’s icy voice pierced the wind his wings had created.
Squeezing his fist demonstratively made Lily choke and fall to her knees while a bleeding ring formed around her neck.

“Stay away from that room and we’ll pretend this never happened.” The angel continued, the tendrils of his willpower already trying to break through Szayeis’ mind and subdue it. What began to emerge was not one consciousness, but many, much more resilient to being controlled thanks to their sheer number… but it only made the angel squeeze his fist harder… and Lily – scream louder.

The strings made contact and all surrounding lights were snuffed out in a second. The room was nearly pitch black, the only source of light came from the moon, which shined through the mansion's single window. In that darkness the moonlight shone off of the dull silver armor of Szayeis' form and the once invisible strings would find themselves revealed in glowing pristine detail. Szayeis' foot finished its step, and the lord did not take another.

He didn't move away. Then he turned halfway, and his faceless visage swiveled as if to look at Maroon and within the mansion there was suddenly the gradual rise of infernal whispers. The strings would appear to corrode as not only Szayeis, but the thousands upon thousands of soul fragments he had consumed over his life, protested the angel's intrusion into their mind. The white strings would begin to become duller as time progressed, yet the Chimeric lord said nothing, uttering not even a grunt of protest and had yet to make another movement since it had turned towards the seraph. The darkness became stifling, as if it sought to crush the very souls out of everyone present, even Lily. However, the red bond would not loosen, nor would it become dull like the white ones.

Instead it would shine brighter and brighter and small stitches would progress over her skin from the spot she'd been wounded by Hazumi...and healed by Dr. Kasain. They would travel to her neck and begin to twine their way around the red thread, their purpose unknown.

Meanwhile, an old fury rose within the being of Szayeis and to the angel and demons the world would disappear for a moment as a voice resonated through the entirety of their beings.

[COLOR="#003333"][FONT=Book Antiqua][SIZE=3]"You infringe in territory where you have no sway. Begone, or let your mind fray and be torn to fragments like all others."[/SIZE][/FONT][/COLOR]

It was deep, ancient, tired, and rather than arrogant, it sounded sure and felt immovable, untouchable, and completely without form.

Then it was gone and to replace it were the eyes, those deadly blue orbs, manifested now in the mind of his attacker, Maroon.

Now the nightwalker's voice pushed through the murk to grate against the ears of his aggressor like a thousand blades through metal flesh. "Lhet goo," the distorted voice of many layers commanded, the eyes attempting to burn through the defense of the tamer. If Maroon did not withdraw soon, he would find that it was he who would be tamed, and Szayeis who would be his master.

He had trifled with the wrong demon and now he was learning just what Lily had meant by her comment just hours before.

"You too would bow in the presence of a lord," she had said...and now he was paying the price for his arrogance.

Maroon gritted his teeth, but despite the pain he refused to yield. New tendrils of his own essence kept pushing forwards, melting, renovating, reaching. Even at a distance they carried a message strong enough to be heard. A message for all demons to hear, one of previous lives, scratching wounds long healed. They opened wounds and exhumed memories buried deep. Memories of fear, memories of loss, of pain, of anguish, of weakness… because inside every demon there was a weakling, a life of failure and slavery, a life of fear. A fear some had forgotten and some had ignored but a fear left present in the depths of their very souls. And that fear he would prey on. And for nightwalkers that fear was the fear of the Light.

The few tendrils that managed to reach would infiltrate the demons’ minds, reviving the memories, opening the wounds, feeding on them and putting them on fire. To those pitiful consciousness’ the world would become what it was in their most desperate moments, a sun-drenched meadow, a lone rock in the sea with no shelter with no shadowy escape left but the darkness of death. The memories would flare to life, extinguishing everything in their path, erasing every shadow and every drop of confidence, bravery and even sanity, leaving only fear and anguish to rule over them.

But this would be no victory, no draw, and no battle of equals. Even with this achievement and those few negated minds there were many more he couldn’t tame. Many more exerting their own violence over his mind. He felt the demons’ power scratch on his mind like nails on chalkboard. His barriers screeched under the pressure that bent them inwards like water bends glass just before it breaks.

And he knew, he realized that what he was dealing with far out powered any demon on the face of the earth. He was challenging a God.

This would be no draw, no battle of equals… No, this would be defeat. The end would be his own demise.

But there was a time to live… and there was a time to die.

“Never choose others’ lives over your own.” The Council’s golden rule, the foundation of everything they lived and fought for. A rule he never thought he’d break himself. And one he couldn’t allow himself to follow.

In his study were lives. The lives the Council had entrusted to him. The lives of countless innocent humans and Protected demons that depended on him to defend. In his study was a picture of the siblings of the parents that gave a life to this wretched body and taught it to laugh.

And he couldn’t let the demon have that.

Lily saw clearly the resolve in their stances, the resolve that trickled through her bonds to them and made her bleed. Her body was becoming a battlefield of wills and her flesh was ripping apart and being restored again in an endless cycle that blurred her vision and stole her breath.

[size=1]“Stop…”[/size] she tried to utter, to no avail. Her neck split open and came back together again, blood flowing freely, that couldn’t flow forever. “The path to the void is paved with good intentions.” Her drunk mind tried to console her with the bitter words of death. Lily clenched her fist with pointless fury. In a world filled with violence the role set for her was never one of power and authority. She never reached a form strong enough to be independent and truly free and her best weapons had always been peace and diplomacy. Weapons dull and useless in this world of fury and hatred. She had always been weak…

…but she had never been anyone’s bitch.

Both men had leashed her up in their influence but they had made one crucial mistake. None of them had immobilized her. So with what little life she had left in her, Lily got to her knees and slammed her fist on the glass table, a rain of shattered glass reflecting bits and pieces of the broken reality that should have never happened. Even before the shards wetly splashed in the pool of blood around her, Lily had grabbed a big and sharp piece of pristine glass and ran it straight through her heart. It severed her flesh and it severed the unnatural charm that kept repairing the body that longed for death. A gruesome wet cough escaped her staining her lips red as they spread to a merciless smirk.

It was then when something unexpected blasted into the room like a missle, both in Maroon's and Szayeis' periferal vision a humanoid being ran right towards Lily, who was now losing consciousness and a lot of blood. Her body continued to get torn apart and then healed again. It was a rippling dance of gore. Maroon's vision and concentration towards Lily would clear almost immediately, as he would notice his hold over Lily's throat suddenly vanish. He saw his guest from earlier, Solus Grim, standing over the unconscious Lily, her body glowed with energy and strange symbols floated around her.

Solus casted some sort of protective ward around her whole being, keeping Maroon's magical reach at bay as the strings of essence desperately tried to grasp her, but were quickly deflected by the spell. But the shield wouldn't last forever, Solus only had ten seconds until the spell wore out and the two warring sides noticed what was happening. Solus quickly threw Lily into his arms and ran towards the west facing window that lead to the courtyard. His right hand pulled Lily's head closer into his left shoulder as he leaped through the closed window, its frame ripped apart, glass shattering both in and out of the room.

Szayeis took no notice, instead the demon began to walk towards Maroon, his faceless visage unreadable. "Withdraaaw, ssseraph," his voice stated in many...many thousands of toned layers. "Withdraaaw or be destrooyheed," the eyes began to pulse within the angel's mind and the pressure increased as the distance between them became frighteningly small. The eyes, as they began to take up more and more of his focus, would appear larger and larger within his mind's sight, seeming to take up all the space. Yet, even as they did so, Maroon would find that his mind was being assaulted not on one front, but on many, so many he might find them difficult to count.

His emotions were being assaulted, as was his logical mind and the faculties that regulated his bodily functions. Furthermore, the pressing force continued, moving towards Maroon's memories as well, to invade, corrupt, manipulate, and destroy him. However, this was not the worst of it, for if he did not submit soon, Szayeis would be before him and not only would the assault tear his mind to shards, the demon would rip the seraph asunder, and mutilate his essence in ways that the angel could not understand.

Now it would be seen, even if only in part, by those who had doubted the terror he instilled, that the aura of fear the lord exuded...was no farce.

This was real. The terror that accompanied him was very...very real, tangible, and capable of effecting even the most resolute and trained of minds...with some effort of course. Not only that, but had Julian been witness to this he might rethink his judgement of the demon, a judgement that had concluded in Szayeis being labeled a coward, something he obviously was not. It did not end there, for as Maroon continued his futile attempts to attack the chimeric mind of the lord of chaos he would find that even those he'd thought tamed would seem to arise again, conquering the fear he had attempted to use, and doubling it back on him, turning it primal and sending it back through the corroding threads he wielded.

There was no end to the torment chaos could bring.

No end but that of the Chimera.

Meanwhile, Solus had landed in a small set of shrubs that only made up a tiny fraction of the vast courtyard, flattening the plants below his boots. Even he could feel the chaos, the darkness that filled the room he was previously in. Could thathave been Szayeis that he saw? The Lord of Chaos and Destruction himself? Why was he there? And why was he protecting Lily? He looked down at the unconscious Siren in his arms as he ran towards his car. [COLOR="#000000"]"The Hell is going on back there?"[/COLOR] Solus asked himself outloud.

He reached the car, which had its doors already open and had the engine running, ready to receive its passenger. He sat Lily down on the passenger seat and quickly strapped on her seatbelt, and shut the door. Then he moved towards the driver's side, got in and shut the door, not bothering with his own seatbelt. He slammed on the gas and the car's rear tires slid on the asphalt, creating a mass of white smoke behind the car, until they finally managed to gain enough grip to push the car forward. Sending the Mustang into a powerslide that arched around the fountain, with the car regaining control and speeding through the open gate that lead out into the remainder of East Beach.

Lily looked in bad shape, all cut up from the glass of the window Solus escaped through and a massive glass shard sticking out of her chest. The cuts were quickly disappearing one by one, but that chest wound went right through her heart.

She needed treatment, and fast.

As he glanced at her, he would notice a set of directions forming on her arm...along with a name: Kasain Mve. They were formed from the same threads that seemed to be fradually extracting the glass from her body, though they could not entirely heal her wounds, they could lessen their severity somewhat.

- - - - - -

The lord, with the deed done and his enemy dealt with, be he alive or not, turned from the angel, now laying on the floor, though perhaps still alive, and placed his hand on a nearby wall.

The shadows gathered and then the wall, and every wall after it, exploded outwards. He walked out of this massive hole, never touching a single portion of the office, for he had not damaged or entered it, and exited the house. However as he left, so did his essence...all of it. Not a trace would remain, in fact, the only thing left would be a different essence, an alien one. Any who detected it would think it belonged to a demon, but a more experienced individual would realize that it was not. Nor was it anything else, its race was unknown...and would remain so.

Szayeis however knew, but he did not realize he had left it behind. So as he exited the house, his body dematerialized and the shadows enveloped him, causing him to vanish completely.

The angel had paid for his trangression...and his kind would pay in turn. would pay.

Hans and Fredrick

Fredrick went skidding through the doorway, cursing, a blood streak left behind him as his wounds weren't healing. That sword fucking hurt! The man was a human! He was supposed to be easy to kill! And yet, there he was. Still standing, not a mark on him. "You bastard." Fredrick spat, blood dribbling from his lips. Tell me that Henry at least got the girl.. Fredrick thought through the haze of pain and fear. Fear. That was an emotion he wasn't used to feeling from things that should have been prey. Yet here he was, scared of the man with the rusty sword, the dead eyes. The hate pulsing off of it. His eyes shifted from the man to where Henry was supposed to be escaping with the girl...and immediately he blanched. There was a pile of gore that used to be Henry, and the other vampire standing over him looking far more terrifying than Fredrick remembered him being. The girl was splattered with blood and shaking, crouched in a corner and trying to make herself as small as possible. He was just about to cut his losses and crawl away from this death trap. He was more terrified than angry. Henry had died, true. Henry had been a partner, true. But anger and a desire for revenge was drowned beneath fear and the desire to live.

Well, that was the plan until work boots filled his vision and a familiar scent filled his nostrils. "Hello...Hans." He gasped, refusing to glance up at the Ascended Werewolf. "Hello Fredrick. Things go badly here?" Hans asked, glancing at the pile of gore that used to be Henry, Mairyell, and Julian. Despite the obvious power being displayed by both of them, his eyes only held contempt. Arrogance. Fredrick coughed up more blood. "The human with the sword is protective of the girl, and he's stronger and faster than he should be. The sword is nasty as hell. I don't know what the vampire's fucking problem is, but you can see the results for yourself. Henry never stood a chance...." Hans glanced back down at the vampire. Fredrick was covered in sword slashes and blood, his suit ruined. He would probably be able to recover from this, provided he could get away from the fight. "Fredrick?" The vampire finally glanced up at him. "You failed in your mission. Twice."

There was a sudden ripping and tearing sound, and Fredrick only had time to let out one futile scream before his head was crushed beneath a clawed foot. Hans walked into the room, tearing holes in the roof where his horns met it. His left hand was clenched in a fist. "Before we begin..." He tossed whatever was in his left hand into the air. For a second, the black bead wavered in the air. Then, it flew through the air and burrowed into the base of Mary's throat. She let out a strangled scream of pain, then collapsed. He body began moving and twisting in directions it shouldn't. Bones were audibly snapping. "She may survive that. But she may not. You two have bigger problems." Hans said, waiting for Julian or Mairyell to attack.

Mary

After being saved by Mairyell, Mary had retreated as far away from the battle as she was able to, watching with wide, terrified, eyes. Tears still coursed down her cheeks and she covered her ears and sobbed as Mairyell killed Henry. His screams still penetrated through her attempt to block them out. No one deserves to die like that... She thought it was over when Fredrick went skidding through the doorway, Julian unharmed. That is, till another man arrived. Mary had slowly uncurled herself from the ball she had formed, and was standing up when a scream drew her attention. She let out a whimper, to afraid to muster the energy to scream. Another monster was here, and from the way he had been talking to Fredrick, was here for her. She immediately backed away when he tossed something in his hand up in the air, only to feel a burning pain in the base of her throat, pain that rapidly blossomed into pure agony. She let out a scream as it flooded throughout her body, seeming to go deeper than the flesh, to her very soul.

The last thing she was aware of before she blacked out was the feeling of something new inside of her head.

Lucien, Azel and Hazumi [daily lives, part 3]

The day passed with some of the apartment inhabitants resting their weary heads and trying to forget the turmoil of the day, while others daydreamed about spilling blood and gore.
The following evening a small noise was heard from Hazumi's room indicating she was awake before suddenly stopping, suspiciously close to where a window would be. She didn't even bother to open the door to her bedroom and check on the others.

However, Azel was more well-mannered than that. Emerging from his (previously Lucien's) bedroom he stretched and yawned and went into the bathroom where he used a toothbrush of uncertain origin before entering the living room. He sent a weary glance at Lucien who was still squeezing his sword just like Azel had left him. The demon picked the path to the kitchen that was furthest away from the angel, making sure to keep as close to the wall as he could and to avoid stepping foot in what he imagined was the bubble of Lucien's personal space. Although he suspected it might be covering the whole apartment. Or the whole building. Or the whole city....

Azel gulped and reached for the handle of the beaten-up fridge, swinging the door open. Nothing. Not even a banana. He narrowed his eyes and tried not to remember all the tasty treats his (previous) master had always kept around for him.

Swinging the door closed Azel went up to the only furniture in the room and sat as far away from Lucien as he could. He figured the angel might get even more pissed if he ignored him completely.

"So... what are you two?" He asked as polite as he could muster.

Lucien didn't sleep at all. He simply watched the doorway where the Demon had slithered off to, considering if it was worth it to do any of what he was imagining in his mind...to make himself a bit more comfortable, he had removed his armor. Didn't need it to kill the maggot anyways. He heard Hazumi leave, but made no move to follow her. Either she would return, alone, or she would return with a group of Battle Angels to kill or subdue him. Perhaps she wouldn't return at all. Regardless, there was a far more pressing matter to deal with. The Demon was still in the house, not leaving as Lucien had hoped he would. Rather, he decided to look into, the apparently empty, device that had also suffered the wrath of someone.

He then decided to come and have a chat. Which irritated Lucien. Couldn't the damn thing just go scurry back to the safety of his room. Or, better yet, leave the house so Lucien could safely murder him. Regardless, Lucien turned to him. "Angels. Demon Hunters. She's a Surface and I'm the only Original left. Though I suppose that was already abundantly clear. " Hostility was clear in his tone, and it was abundantly apparent that the Angel would have liked nothing more than to kill the nuisance, and be done with him. But, Hazumi didn't want him dead. And Lucien would agree...for now...

"I meant what are you to each other... I... don't want to get in the middle of anything..." Azel explained, shifting slightly in his seat.

Lucien tilted his head slightly. "Enemies. Last I knew. But now..perhaps that will change. Things were revealed today that changed her perspective. Regardless, my own goals remain unchanged, and so far I know she only opposes one. Your death. Which you wouldn't happen to just accept and let me do it, would you?" The Angel didn't really feel like working to murder the Demon. But, the end result would be the same, regardless if it was quickly or extended. Demon blood would be spilled.

"I haven't even done anything to you." Azel sighed, leaning back and looking up at the ceiling. Angels were such brutes... "I would gladly go 'way if you can convince your ex-enemy future-lover to let me go away peacefully."

"You exist. You are the physical representation of the War that caused our segregation and our fall. You steal another's memories of a loved one to save your own pathetic skin. You don't need to have done anything. Your very presence is enough to make me want to kill you. It is only because of her fool notion that you still live. And, she's not going to become my lover!" He seemed fairly repulsed by the idea.

"She's gone now. You could walk out." He forgot to mention he would follow and murder him, but that wasn't an important detail.

Azel was about to go into a philosophical and racial debate when the angel gave him something more interesting to talk about.

"If you're not going to become her lover do you think I should? I... I suppose it's okay with me, if need be, but, like, if you want to try harder to gain her sympathies I also don't mind stepping back. But.. if you have other hobbies that's also okay. I could try to make her happier. After all, everyone deserves some freedom and if you both just bicker and try to control each other...."

For a moment, Lucien was completely still. Then, he was suddenly up on his feet, wings flaring, voice seeming to thunder from all sides. "I'm going to fucking kill you!" With that, Lucien's sword zoomed through the air, nothing more than a rage filled blur heading straight for Azel. There was no way in hell that he was going to let a Demon even attempt to become her lover. He'd deal with whatever she planned later. Right now, the walls needed a new, gory decoration!

The demon shrieked and quickly jumped off the couch waving his arms in a futile attempt to extinguish Lucien's wick.
"Okay, okay, I get it, you don't want to talk about it!!!" He tried to be nice but seeing as the angel was nowhere near delaying his explosion he did the only thing that he thought could still save his life - taking the form of Lucien's daughter again. Crouching low on the ground he looked up the angel with pleading eyes, and, now sure that he would be heard, spoke again.

"We should all just try to get along, you know? I can violate you worse than this, mentally, and make you witness things you'd never want to see your girl doing, so... Let's just calm down, okay?" He wasn't smiling now. A day of living in fear was plenty to him and he was ready to strike back.

Lucien froze, and his eyes filled with a new degree of hate. "I assure you. If you give me even the slightest chance, I will slowly fucking skin you alive. You think you're safe, hiding behind her image? Defiling it? Just cowering behind it until you can slip away, and forget about me, losing me in time? I am immortal. I will follow you to Hell and back, and I will make your death last for days. You will beg for mercy, for death, by the time I am done with you. So, go ahead. Try and play your mind games. I assure you, you will pay for every minute. And that price will be bought in agonizing pain."

The Angel sat down, hate rivaling with grief and love as he viewed his daughter again for the first time in....a long, long time.

"Listen, buddy, I'm not the one picking a fight here. I'm the one stuck between you too fucking psychos without even the slightest idea how and why I got here in the first place! Oh, no doubt you can skin me and burn me and skew me and fucking cook me over a slow fire! I know that! Why do you think I tried to talk to you in my usual form, huh? Because you asked me to and because I can respect other people, alive or dead. Freaking brute, it's you who's giving me no choice. You can't put her memory to rest and want to keep seeing her again. At least have the courage to admit it!"

Lucien glared before speaking softly, hate infusing his voice. "You think I don't know that? You think I don't realize that the reason I don't sleep is because she haunts my dreams? You think I don't realize that the reason I hate your kind and the last remnants of my kind is because of what both of them did to her? You think I don't realize that my hate will be the death of me? You're a fool then. A soon to be dead fool. But at least you have spine. I was beginning to get sick from your constant cowardice. You will still die. You may still die a horrific and painful death. But you may also be granted a quick one. I cannot change who I am. So, I will kill you the first chance I get. The first time you slip out of that form, your death will happen."

"Great." Azel thought to himself but resisting the urge to roll his eyes. The speech would have been touching if not for the second half of it. He got that part already, only good demon is a dead demon. And there he thought they could reach some kind of compromise. So he had to stick to being a girl now? Not that he hadn't done it before, he was quite sure he'd done a lot of things in his life that he had no recollection of, but still, it felt a bit weird to be stuck with boobs all day long.
"May I be a man in the bathroom at least?" He asked, a pinch of annoyance in his voice. That was the polite way of asking if Lucien really insisted on Azel looking at his important one's naked body in the shower.

"I won't kill you in the bathroom..which I assume is the room over there." Lucien jerked his thumb towards where the Demon contraption was. Sadly, that was the truth. There was a line even Lucien wouldn't cross, and that was it. There was something too...Demonic about murdering someone when they were bathing or emptying their bowels, no chance of defending themselves or run.

"Good." Azel sighed. "And I don't mind being an eye-candy... but if you ever decide you won't kill me if I return to any sort of male body, feel free to inform me."

The angel didn't say anything, and so neither did Azel. For hours. Until daybreak, in fact. Azel felt terribly uncomfortable because of the wings attached to his back but was too scared to modify them gone as it might be enough to trigger the time-bomb next to him. So he occasionally stood up and paced around the apartment before returning and sitting back down. Crossing his arms on his chest presented another problem - a pair of soft breasts that made the task more uncomfortable, on many levels. But luckily the hours passed and finally the female angel returned, walking in through the front door. She stood at the entrance of the living room for a moment, looking down on Azel.

"She really does look like me." She nodded.
Azel left the stage to Lucien because he really had no idea what was going on anyway.

Lucien continued to send a conflicted glare at Azel before turning his gaze to Hazumi. His eyes softening, if ever so barely. "She was my daughter. And since she was the last of my line, you're her reincarnation. Have you ever wondered what makes me hate the Cowards, the Archangels, the last of my kind, so much? Enough to risk my own death at the hands of one who looks almost exactly like my daughter? What could make someone so filled with hate that they'd become a monster amongst their own kind? They killed her. For their sick experiments, they killed her. They wanted to test a new disease they generated, specifically for Angels. It was too powerful, so she died. Slowly. Painfully. In my arms, as Heaven was burned and pillaged around me. They didn't stop there, oh no. They blamed her wings suddenly darkening and her death on the fact that she had let the Demons in. They defiled her name, just to protect their own skins." Lucien began shaking.

"So try to stop me or don't, but they will all die. They will all know her pain. Her terror. Her death."

Hazumi blinked slowly and didn't say anything for a long moment. It's not that she didn't know what to say. But she was trying to hold it back. While she perfectly understood herself how deep love and loyalty ran, she also couldn't rationalize killing the whole Council because of one single individual. She herself had faced that dilemma.. and she had chosen the Council. Even in the light of last night's revelations, she wasn't ready to give up on them just yet.
On the other hand, she was struck to see another angel, and an Original at that, seem so.... defeated. The sight disgusted her. And it scared her at the same time. Because she had been in his place and she couldn't keep her eyes on him.

"So, why is the doppelganger copying your dead daughter?" She asked with an icy voice.
"Because he wants to kill me otherwise and that's the only thing that keeps him away." Azel muttered.
"Why do you want to kill him?" Hazumi inquired, her tone more puzzled than sarcastic.

"Because he's a Demon. Scum. Maggot. Take your pick. He should be dead. Not being coddled. Not being protected. He should be dead and rotting. Yet here he is. Defiling her memory even further. All because he's too cowardly to face his death and for some reason you've decided you needed a Demon in this place. Why? I don't know. Some connection to Lambert, or you still believe in the cowards, or whatever reason. But, he will die. I just have to wait for him to slip up, for even half a moment." Lucien said, hate once again infusing his tone, restoring a bit of his old self.

"Oh, fine then!" Hazumi exclaimed. "Kill each other. Go ahead. Solve the world's problems. Don't bother about keeping the furniture clean, I'll clean everything up after you. Just like I clean the mistakes of angels, humans and demons alike, all night long, night after night. Kill him, I don't care about him because he is not Lambert and because I don't care about your daughter. Go ahead, hang him off the balcony by his guts for everyone to see. And then, please, just leave me the fuck alone. Because if the demon doesn't deserve a chance, then neither do you." The girl spat out before turning her back to the two and slamming the bathroom door on the inside.

Azel met Lucien's gaze.
"Well then. Are you going to gut your daughter or are you going to take your leave?"

Lucien stared at door before turning to Azel. "I'm not going anywhere Demon. You'll slip up. And then I'll be there. And, of course, you'll be dead. For she is right about one thing. Neither of us deserve another chance. Mine was given away in blood. Yours was given away at your very existence. But, for now, it seems we'll have to maintain a compromise.

Collab, Hans, Mairyell, Mary, Julian, Solus, Sir.

With both Fredrick and Henry dead, Mairyell had been about to turn to Mary to see if she was entirely okay, however, this new individual...Hans, drew his attention away. As the small object flew out, Mairyell could not react. The blood curdling scream that was emitted from the poor human's throat made his entire body shudder...with rage. His eyes became a deeper crimson and seemed to swirl as if they too were made from blood. The wings on his back coalesced and melted into blood where they coated his body in a thick liquid, which then formed armor and solidified. Mairyell's head was, oddly, unprotected, though there was a sort of collar in the back that would guard his neck.

The vampire then began to walk towards Hans, almost in the same way that he had walked towards Henry, slowly and with the intent to absolutely destroy his aggressor. He knew he couldn't heal Mary and he knew how fast werewolves were, fast enough to keep up with him even when flying. He had a better chance of fighting it, winning, and then taking Mary to a hospital than trying to simply run and leave the creature to Julian. “I suggest you take that back,” Mairyell stated, his head tilting slightly, muscles in his neck twitching and claws moving a bit at his sides as if he were still exercising some form of restraint.

“Don't ask me why, demon,” he spat out venomously, “because if you do, I will have to teach you what terror feels like as it gradually rips your mind apart. You insufferable mutt.” The rage and hatred in his voice was extremely evident, having been unchanged from having killed Henry. For the werewolf's sake, a small part of Mairyell, one buried deep in his psyche, hoped that the demon would answer intelligently.

That small part of him was mercy.

Julian stared at the new arrival, his face taciturn and reserved for the bloodshed that would soon be seen. He grips his sword with both hands and prepares a mighty slash down the middle. That was he threw a dark bead up in the air at Mary's direction, he stretched his hand out, trying desperately to catch it before it latched onto her throat. Julian let out a vicious sneer at the werewolf, before jumping back a few feet to attend to Mary. He had enough "days of glory" to last for a lifetime, might as well give them to a younger person to show them how truly cursed they were.

“Take care of him” he shouted to Mairyell, “and I'll attend to her”. He slapped her face slightly in an attempt to rejuvenate her and began moving his hands across her neck, trying to locate the bead so that he could extract it.

“You know you could end this fight quickly” a voice echoed in his mind.

And the only thing Julian answered back was a resounding “No”.

Hans tilted his head at the young vampire that approached him(causing more pieces of the roof to fall), ignoring the human. He wouldn't be able to help the girl, but the longer he was kept busy, the better. Then, the ascended werewolf let out a chuckle. What an insolent little child he was. "Tell me, vampire. What do you care for the human? By all the accounts these two left before you killed them," He nodded towards the gore pile that was Henry and the headless corpse of Fredrick, "You hated her. A weak little whore, I believe is what they reported you screaming. The Angel could sense them, so they were a distance away, but you were quite loud. I realize you're at that age where you flip through moods quickly, but I don't think that quickly or strongly. Regardless, I can't take back what I've done even if I wanted to. It's permanent, and whoever undergoes it usually dies." If he had had lips, Hans would have grinned. As it was, tone of voice would have to suffice. "So, I'd be hoping that your 'weak little whore' is stronger than she appears. Wouldn't do for you to be proven right in this instance would it? And besides, I'd have to find another girl to do this work on and that's just frustrating and boring."

For a moment, Hans looked at the crimson eyes of the vampire. "I don't want this fight. Battling against Demons who should be working with me is...distasteful. Let it be, Vampire. Let what happens happen and allow a-," Hans glanced at Mary, whose clothes are stained with blood from her bones breaking skin. "most of us to leave here alive and in as good of health as we arrived."

At first, Mairyell's face darkened, but then the unthinkable occurred. The vampire smiled at Hans, and boy was it a devilish one. Teeth gleaming in all their glory, all sharp for the piercing of flesh. This was not a normal vampiric trait, and for someone like Hans who had likely seen many a vampire, it would be...confusing. The look in Mairyell's eyes darkened further as the crimson became almost black like dried blood. The aura of fury and violence did not however dissipate, in fact it only became worse as a deadly bloodlust seeped into the room. "I was born in bad health, demon," he spat the word out as if it were bile burning his mouth. Mairyell shook his head and raised one of his clawed hands somewhat, showing as it began to wreath itself in a blue energy.

"You know nothing, werewolf. My mood has little to do with my physical or emotional maturity. It is an entirely separate matter and you'd do well to remember that when I tear you throat out for hurting the last thing I can protect and defiling something that should not be." Mairyell's smile then vanished, "...for Innocence is sacred to me and those such as us have no right to twist it to our will."

The emotion seemed to bleed from his eyes as the dark crimson orbs became dull he slashed sending there blades of partially solidified blood surrounded in a blue glow towards the werewolf at highspeed.

Unlike Julian, who had once known glory, perhaps enjoyed it till it had ruined him, Mairyell did not enjoy any of what he was doing. Not really.

The only thing he might have enjoyed about it, was perhaps that he could try to protect something.

To save someone from sharing his fate...or one worse than even that.

He was a protector, he always had been, and even if he couldn't protect Aeris, he damn well wouldn't let them take someone else who had been put into his care, even if not directly.

It was a creed of sorts, he supposed....

A creed bound in blood.

His blood.

Hans snorted at the vampire. Innocence. He found innocence sacred. How.pathetic. How weak. For all his bravado and anger and power, the vampire was really nothing more than a pathetic child, still idealistic and throwing a tantrum at the one who showed him how cruel and hard the world is. As he saw Mairyell slashing at him and the blades of blood coming, he leapt aside. Not fast enough, however, to completely avoid damage. The flesh under his left arm was cut in addition to his side. Hans ignored it as mild damage, instead choosing to talk to the vampire before him. "A child." The werewolf sneered. "You're nothing more than an idealistic child! Innocence? What innocence!?" He gestured to the thrashing form of Mary, more and more blood soaking her clothes as her bones broke flesh in various different places. "Her? The bitch? The pathetic crybaby? I think you're mistaking innocence for weakness. Why do you think she was chosen? Because she looked pretty? No! She was weak. Less resistance. Now, since you've begun the fight, let me finish it." He gave another contemptuous sneer at the naive child before him. This was the one who killed Fredrick?

Hans drew in a deep breath, and held it for a moment. Then, his whole body seemed to vibrate, starting from the legs up. When the vibration reaches his jaws, he opened them and let loose a powerful roar that buckled the floor boards, breaking them, and tore pieces from the roof, in a eight foot wide area. Heading straight towards Mairyell.

Eyes narrowing and his ears picking up the vibration just as well as his eyes did, Mairyells shoes broke and claws formed from his feet, digging deep into the floor and right through the ceiling of the room below. The vampire growled and shook his head, before vanishing. The werewolf, during his roar, would have to be stable, so movement would be reduced. Mairyell took advantage of this, utilizing his armor, his speed, and his likely superior agility to not simply vanish, but to crash two walls as if he were escaping. Instead, Mairyell would bash through the window behind Hans and slam into his back, digging his bloody claws into the beast's flesh.

The werewolf would also notice that the places that Mairyell's blood had touched him were burning and that the burning was spreading throughout his body quicker than the demon would be able to remove it. "I am young, but I'm no child," Mairyell gritted through his clenched teeth. It wasn't the preservation of innocence that he fought for, it was life. It was the right of a person to lose their innocence through willful experience, not through torturous, violent, or malignant force.

Still, despite knowing how wrong Hans was, his words still grated against the rough edges of Mairyell's already raw nerves. It made a difference. Thus, Mairyell jumped back, if he had landed the strike --if not things would play out a bit differently--, leaving the blood forged claw to melt into liquid and push itself into the werewolf's bloodstream.

Oddly, it would move quickly as if being absorbed into the demon's body. Even worse was the fact that the external wounds would seal up as the blood entered as the werewolf's already likely impressive healing factor was being bolstered by Mairyell's Brisn, which was primarily a healing magic.

The result was deadly internal damage, primarily intense acid burns, damage that the werewolf's healing factor would only do so much against. The other effects would not initially be apparent.

Hans snarled as the vampire bolted, breaking through the walls. As his roar ended, he tracked the sounds of his opponent, turning around as they grew stronger and stronger. His ears picked up running footsteps a couple seconds before his eyes saw the vampire and he leapt backwards away from the claw that was trying it's hardest to give him new scars. It missed, but only barely. "You are a child. To fight for innocence is a sign of being a child, a naive, pathetic weakling. The only difference between you and an actual child is size and your mommy isn't here for you to hide behind. Come on, don't you want to kill the big bad wolf that's threatening to destroy her precious innocence?" He taunted, drawing in another breath. But, rather than a roar this was a bit..faster. The rune on the base of his neck flashed a blinding white, and Hans spat a lightning bolt at his antagonist. The girl and the human who had so eloquently beaten Fredrick forgotten in the annoyance before him. Still, this was drawing dangerously close to taking too long. If the girl bonded right here... Hans let out a snort. A subject hadn't bonded with Sir's little creation since the time it was made, centuries ago. It was unlikely that this weakling would be the one to bond.

Still, better to be on the safe side.

The blood claw glowed blue and slashed in a backhand motion in front of Mairyell wreathing the air before him with a blue light. Simultaneously the claw itself liquefied and spread out, forming a thin wall of blood. As the lightning hit the Brisn absorbed some of the impact and let the rest through...intentionally, to shatter the blood barrier, but never reach Mairyell himself. The vampire exhaled sharply and glared at the werewolf as the blue energy faded back and surrounded his right arm and newly forming claw. He made no reaction to Hans' words, nor actions other than what he'd done to defend himself. "You're the pathetic one, wolf," the vampire commented, "you, your master, and all of those under you could not handle capturing one little girl."

A small smile formed on the vampire's lips as he watched the demon closely so as to tell when he would act. "Foiled by her shotgun a vampire, and a human, one you'd think as lowly as the rest." Figuring it had been the wolf's sense of smell, which was no greater than his own. While there was indeed rage and hatred emanating off of him, there was also an amused air due to the werewolf's arrogance. It was actually rather hilarious to see the beast annoyed with him and failing so completely in his simple task. "I can see that look in your eyes, you know," Mairyell said a bit smugly as he channeled the Brisn around his body in small rotations. "Just here for the girl, eh? Too bad, because you'll not be taking anyone from the area unless my body lays on the ground...dead."

Most would think, likely including Hans, that he was being arrogant. However, Mairyell had faced many a demon, surface and otherwise, before. None of them had triumphed over him and none of them had ever successfully hurt him or his sister when it came down to it. He had reason to be assured of his ability to protect, after all, it was what he'd been doing since the moment his sister had freed him from the prison their father had set for him to dwell in with the intention to leave him there for the rest of his days.

It had not worked, just like every other attempt to suppress or end his life hadn't. So, one could call it arrogance, or they could look deeper and call it determination and assumption formed from a long time fact.

He would persist and as long as he did, so would those he protected.

Julian ignored the battle before him for now as he grabbed Mary's shoulders and pinned them down on the ground. He then put the weight of his knees on her legs and attempted to keep her from spasming, he could hear bones crack and muscles vibrate violently. She was transforming into something, that’s what the bead was for and he couldn't get it out. The room flashes as the werewolf unleashes a lightning bolt that Mairyell blocks with ease, protecting the group of them from being incinerated. The boy did have a lot of skill behind his shitty attitude. But for the moment he needed to focus on Mary

“hehehehehehe” a voice mumbled in his mind

“I told you, no” Julian countered back harshly.

“Poor girl, I've seen this ploy done before. She'll most likely die”

“shut up” Julian mumbled, out loud this time.

a large animal like growl radiated around his mind, the essence of something not demonic, but menacing began to emit from Julian. It was getting bolder, showing its colors when it had done so well hidden from sight.

“Put the sword in her hand” it growled

“Why would I ever give this curse to someone else?” Julian asked, a little shocked

“I can't stop this transformation. But my essence can slow it down a bit. And this blessing that you call a “curse” is only yours to bear. We belong to each other now.”

Julian grimaced at that last part, a sad but true statement that reminded him just how weak he truly was.

“Why? Why would you help some girl”

All seemed clear in Julian's mind, as if the essence had left his mind completely and the sword seemed to ease up on its malice. Becoming something softer, if that indeed was possible.

Suddenly The voice appeared, in all its disdain and malice, but also something else that Julian had never felt it before; ambition

“Someday very soon King Blackhawke, there will come a day where I will no longer have to watch my people become tools to the weakling below and above. I've watched as Man became subservient and frightened to relics of a bygone age.”

Julian, oblivious to the carnage before him could only become completely stunned at its words

“The time of watching is over, put the sword hilt in her hand. I will do what a can.”

Julian remained apprehensive, nervous and knowing what this thing was capable of. This essence, spirit, whatever it was, could ruin what was left in her mind. And he couldn't trust it to not just destroy whatever remained left of her conscious.

But then again what other choice did he have?

He slowly takes his sword and slides the hilt into her hand and wraps her fingers around it.

“P-please be safe Mary” he mumbled, knowing full well where her mind would be going.

Hans snarled at Mairyell, the vampire's words getting under his skin simply because they were true. And that irritated him. The burning sensation he had felt spreading was now in every part of his body, but he could ignore that in favor of satisfying the urge to crush the annoying bug before him. "Believe me, that is going to be arranged very shortly." Hans said. The rune on his neck glowed once more and twin lightning bolts arced from his hands at the vampire before him, quickly followed by Hans himself. If he caught the vampire, he'd start squeezing with his considerable strength, trying to break every bone Mairyell had. If he missed, well, it was doubtful he'd be able to stop himself...it's not that long of a drop from the apartment, is it?

Mary, on the other hand, was floating in a state of..detachment. She was dimly aware of something pushing her mind, her soul, into a dark corner of her body, taking control of it without her permission. It just felt wrong. Not natural. It revolted her. And the fact that it was in her body only made the revulsion grow and swell. But, she didn't really feel the need to do anything. She was being swept under a dark tide and a fate worse than death awaited her, she couldn't find enough in her to even be afraid. She was tired, so tired of this world and its horrors. She just wanted to go back to her old life. With friends and movies, and college. But of course, that was impossible now, wasn't it? She had tried fighting, she had tried to struggle...now, she just didn't want to anymore. Let the thing push her away, imprison her in her own body. At least the fear and the terror and the constant feeling of uselessness would fade. And as the invasive presence slowly but surely won the battle against her body's attempt at rejection, a new presence arrived. An aura of menace seemed to exude from it, and it was going straight for Mary. As it pushed back the darkness and drew ever closer to her, Mary realized, too late, what it's intention was. It reached her as she tried to push away. There was blackness, the feeling of moving at very high speeds..and suddenly she stopped.

And when she opened her eyes, she opened them to hell.

The vampire's grin grew as Hans made his proclamation, the rune glowed, a second time now, and the fool attacked. "Imbecile," Maiyell muttered before slamming his foot down and shattering the wooden floor beneath him. Blood tendrils shot out below from his ankles and he descended, letting the wolf pass over him before he shot up and stabbed his claws through the beast's feet and then channeled the electricity into him.

The shock would turn into a pulse of sorts and send the Wolf flying through the wall that Mairyell had stood before where he would tumble to the street below. As this maneuver finished, he rose from the floor, patching the person sized hole haphazardly and glancing out the large hole in the wall to see the beast fall to the street. Shaking his head he let out a long sigh and glanced back at Julian and Mary. "How's she doing," he asked, a considerably softer tone in his voice. To Mary, if she was even able to notice, there would be a notably kinder air about him, similar to when he had initially protected her in the alley. His mentality had shifted a lot in the past hours and, at least to an extent, he seemed to be more steady in his convictions now that things had come down to it.

Still, even though his tone was kind, his eyes were burning somewhat, appearing to writhe and swirl in strange patterns. Still they had returned to a purplish hue, implying that his essence was balanced for the moment. While waiting for his response, Mairyell noted that his blood had already spread quite far, having infiltrated the majority of his blood stream where it latched onto other blood cells and let itself be absorbed into the werewolf's organs, where it was most vulnerable. He would bide his time until the blood reached all of them, at which point he would eviscerate the beast from the inside-out.

Julian watched as Mairyell threw the werewolf through the building down below. He nodded his head and gave an expression of appreciation and being generally impressed. Kid had some guts backed up behind his attitude. Julian looks down at Mary with her fingers wrapped around the sword. The shaking and convulsing had slowed down considerably, seemed as if the whatever it was was actually doing its job and holding this transformation at bay. He looks up at Mairyell with a bit of worry on his face.

"She's alright for now. Go and finish that thing off. It's being a real pain in the ass." Something tugged at him to want to join and fight. He began to admit that he was relying more and more on this power that he knew was a curse and nothing else. but it was a curse he was starting to need more and more. And it hurt whatever remained of his soul.

Nodding briefly, a solemn look briefly passing through his eyes as he did so, Mairyell glanced at Mary and frowned. The furrows in his brow were not just sympathetic, they told of experience and the look in the young man's eyes shone with empathy before they hardened. The eyes quickly shifted colors, going from the brief blue, to a dark purple where they stayed as he turned from them. Walking towards the newly formed hole in the wall, Mairyell casually jumped down from it, his claws dissipating as the places he'd stabbed Hans absorbed the blood and then healed over, forming no lasting wounds. Still, the internal portions of the wolf would begin to sear him from the inside out, causing terrible pain that would soon become debilitating for any normal human. Of course, Hans was a demon so he'd have more time before the pain became unbearable...and it would become unbearable.

"Arranged? You have a funny way of organizing your priorities mutt," he said sarcastically with a rather smug look on his grim features, features that did not hold a smile on their lips, but held a gleam in the eyes. "As I see it, you've got two very pivotal priorities mixed up: Surviving and completing your task. I'll let you guess which one you're failing at...miserably." Mairyell's blood armor partially liquefied, forming several spikes jutting off of his back and shoulders. For what purpose exactly was unknown, but the imbecilic demon would soon find out.

---

Solus' ears were still ringing after Lily's temper tantrum. He never thought a Siren could scream so loudly. Either way, she came to learn the value of favors, which were worth much more than money. Her debt was what forced him to pull her out of the shit to begin with. He would never let a debt go unpayed, and now Lily owed him two favors. Solus patched her up and sent her on her way. He had wasted enough time, and Hans was his next stop, a moving stop that could get away at any moment with all the answers that Solus needed. He hoped he wasn't too late as he sped through the Loom Autobahn. Loom's own version of the European super highway with no speed restrictions. The rising cityscape pulled away behind him as he headed to one of the poorer parts of Loom, Serenity Row. It was where Hans was heading, and Solus needed to stop him in his tracks.

He pulled out of the Bahn via one of the exits, passing through Little Tokyo and Derelict Block, the local triad's domain, ran by the Oni, hellions of the South-East. Luckily without trouble. Then he passed through Carthage, a holy house district of sorts, consisting of mostly priests and pastors, as well as a few angels here and there. It was then when Solus reached Serenity Row, pulling out the phone Sir left him and reading through the address written in the text message. He was close, just a few more streets to pass.

It was after he rounded a few corners, when Solus slammed the car to a stop in surprise. As if right from heaven, an 11 foot tall creature fell from the sky and slammed face first into the asphalt in the middle of the street, right on the double white lines. Even though it was a decent distance away, a good 250 yards, he could still feel its taint. Solus quickly checked the address on the phone again and then glanced at the street sign above him. It seemed that he was at his destination. And that creature, it had to be Hans. Solus didn't have time to think or ask questions, such as: Where the hell Hans even fell from. He slammed the accelerator down to the floor, revving the car to life.

The car hit 60 before it even passed 100 yards, rolling towards Hans like a massive metal battering ram. It was twenty five yards before crashing into Hans when the car suddenly swerved and moved towards Hans sideways in a last second drift. The left side of the tail smashed Hans in the side, forcing him into a cartwheel in the air before landing back on the ground again. The force of the impact slowed the car down, with the Necromaster losing control of it as it span towards the left. On the 2nd spin, he opened the door, and did probably the stupidest thing in his life. While the car continued to spin out of control, he casually hopped out of the driver's side, his small leap immediately turned into a casual stroll as the car's tail brushed the back of his legs, barely missing him by mere milimeters. Solus, unphased and completely clueless to what he just pulled off, continued to stroll towards Hans, with his arms outstretched in greeting.

"Hans!" He called out with a shit eating grin. "I haven't had the chance to introduce myself before you scurried off..." The Mustang finally skidded to a stop after a couple more spins as Solus' face turned into something far more sinister. "I'm Solus Grim. Your Slayer..."

For the first time in his rather long life as an Ascended werewolf, Hans began to feel that he had bitten off more than he could chew. It began to start when he was suddenly flying through the air and crashing onto the pavement. Picking himself up, he heard the roar of an engine and the squealing of tires. Whirling around, he had only time to snarl something unintelligible, likely a curse, before the car slammed into his side breaking ribs that healed even as he flew through the air and crashed down back to the earth. He ignored the hunter's talking. Isabella was supposed to have killed him. Obviously, she failed. Picking himself up, he spat blood onto the ground. The burning sensation had increased, and seemed to be coming from every part of his body. He ignored it. He had to kill the hunter, even if he couldn't get the girl. Thus, without so much as a retort, he rushed Solus, slashing with one claw to open the hunter from shoulder to hip.

Here he comes... Solus thought to himself as Hans began his charge. He didn't move, he simply crossed his arms with an even wider grin on his face than before. As Hans' claw came, Solus uncrossed his arms and weaved his body towards the attack, ducking his head beneath the claw, which passed over his head. Hans' arm stopped halfway through his slash however, the force behind it decipating into what ever it had collided with. Him and the Necromaster had locked arms. Solus' right arm was wrapped around Hans' right arm, with Solus' right hand clutching Hans' throat like a vice. He pulled Hans closer with his hand still on his throat, to the point where they were both breathing into eachother's mouths. "I wonder..." He said quietly to him. "...what it feels like to be a slave for an incompetant master..." Solus' throat clutching hand began to squeeze. "Why don't you enlighten me...?"

The car's arrival did little to surprise the vampire and Mairyell simply watched with a frown as the werewolf was struck and the cocky hunt- no...this being was strange. Not human, but not demon either, despite its appearance. The furrows in his brow deepened somewhat as he observed the struggle that began anew, noting that the werewolf's movements were slowed and senses dulled to some extent. The blood was tearing his body apart from the inside-out. It was a terrible way to go, but Mairyell hardly cared about the brute's dignity. What he did care about was that someone was stealing his prey, a thought that, despite Mairyell's hatred for his vampiric self, bothered him nonetheless.

Thus he gritted his teeth slightly and then called out, sounding rather irritated and wary, to the strange man, "I had this taken care of so I'd appreciate it if you let the beast go so I can properly end his pitiful life. Perhaps then he'll reincarnate into a vessel that actually serves the world, rather than just itself." Involuntarily, his body shuddered and he stopped moving for a moment, letting the torrent pass. His vampiric aspect wanted control and he'd been focusing on it too much for him to entirely deny it. He'd need to feed soon, whether he liked it or not.

---

Julian watches as Mairyell jumps to the street below to hopefully kill that annoying nuisance. Making sure the sword is still clutched in Mary's hand, he picks her up and brings her over to the couch and lays her down gently. He grabs a blanket and wraps it around her. Julian sits down and puts her head on his lap. Right now she looked almost peaceful, the shaking had turned into small shivers and he cradled her closer. Protection. An instinct he thought he never possessed, it should have been impossible, after all the killing, the executions. The utterly reprehensible destruction he caused on what was the greatest country in the world. He had ruined everything, and now all he could do was try to help this young woman. He leans over and kisses her forehead, ignoring the fighting that waged on below; none of that mattered right now. All that mattered was keeping this woman safe, and making sure she kept believing in things. To never lose hope and to always struggle against the powers that fought to suppress and demean them.

That after all was what Mankind did, they gave themselves dignity in the face of those who tried to humiliate them.

“Stay strong Mary” he whispered to her.

---

It was then when Solus finally sensed the Vampire, who followed up with a snarky comment. He ignored the majority of it and replied, still glaring into Hans' eyes, their foreheads almost touching, and Solus' arm that was locked with Hans' slowly beginning to strain. "And I thank you for that, but I need this one alive. At least for a few moments before I impale him with his own spine..." The last sentence wasn't a lie, he would, and he probably could, given five minutes and a chainsaw. "So what do you say Hans?" He continued. "It seems you are outmatched..."

Hans bared his teeth in a grin at Solus. "I'm more free than you are, hunter." He gasped out, the arm not locked with Solus's wrapping around the hunter's back in a spine crushing bearhug. For whatever reason, it seemed that the vampire wasn't willing to attack him while he had the human. Hans was never one to just let go of an opportunity. His rune began to glow a blinding white light and flames shot from the werewolf's mouth in a stream, aimed directly at Solus's all too close face. He would kill the human. The hunter would know fear and pain before he would die. The hunter had killed Isabella, and that demanded Hans seek vengeance. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a life for a life.

Noticing the rune's light, Mairyell's head tilted and the fingers of his right hand opened wide, controlling the blood within Hans' body. As the fire built up, the blood pumped through the arteries and cappillaries in the wolf's face, then as the fire entered the mouth, the blood shot up in spiked tendrils, tigging into the top of the wolf's jaw and gums, and then latched in with hooks. In seconds the mouth would be forced shut and the fire suppressed within the Wolf's mouth and neck. Mairyell than glanced to Solus, "Oh, you can try to keep him alive, but he won't last even for another five minutes. I hardly have to lift a finger." Mairyell was slightly annoyed as he continued, "Just make sure his blood is unsullied, as much as I rue the fact, I do require this type of sustenance to survive."

Mairyell then fell silent, making minor alterations to his blood's actions within the werewolf's body, such as having it begin to assimilate Hans' blood to manipulate as well.

"Noted, I only need 60 seconds." Solus replied, completely ignoring Hans' comment and the pain that surged in him back from the crushing arm that Hans wrapped him in, now a little curious about the Vampire, and why he even bothered to help Solus there and then. "PIR" That single unknown word that the Necromaster liked so much, he has been using it all day, further proving its usefulness. His right hand was still cut open from earlier in the day, and blood still slowly oozed out of it. The word drew power from the Necromaster's lifeforce and blew both Hans and Solus away from eachother and sent them in the air with an explosive BANG of a shockwave. Solus landed on his feet, his toes skidding along the ground a good 10 yards before his momentum dissipated. Now with his feet firmly in place, he straightened his back, and dusted himself off, leveling out the creases in his sleeves. "Do you really think that having a Magic Killswitch in your stomach is freedom? So naive." He drew one of his swords, and took a guarding stance. "Oh and by the way... It wasn't me who killed Isabella, it was Sir. He deemed her incompetant. Yet another eye-opener to how you are merely nothing but a tool in his eyes." He tightened his grip around the pommel of his sword. "En guard, asshole."

Watching the man, Mairyell closely observed what he could of his essence, trying to ascertain what exactly he was while maintaining the power of his blood within the werewolf's body. He noted the use of magic and chuckled lightly as Solus did what he had been doing moments before, degraded Hans. Shaking his head, Mairyell relaxed his hand, allowing his blood to flow back into the veins of the wolf and as such allowing him to once more have use of his mouth. "Consider yourself on your own now," Mairyell stated before turning his back to the two, walking towards the apartment building, and then leaning against its wall after he turned back to them. He continued to watch from there, seeming mildly amused by the proceedings, granted he was still getting quite...thirsty. It seemed the effect of his sister's blood had begun to wear off. A pity that was, a pity indeed.

Hans glared at the hunter, and opened his mouth to respond, only to be cut off by the ringing of a cell phone. It appeared to be coming from Solus's pocket.

Solus burst out laughing. "Oh speak of the Devil! It's your boss, Hans!" He grinned at the Wolf as he pulled out the phone and pointed the screen in Hans' direction so he could see the caller ID, which labeled the name "Sir" in the standard Arial font that seemed really common place these days. "Mind if I answer this?" Solus was really enjoying pissing the werewolf off, he only had five minutes left to live anyway, so the Necromaster might as well give him a Stand-up performance for the last few moments of Hans' life.

At the mention of Hans' master, Mairyell's eyes narrowed considerably, their coloration shifting from a dark purple to a light reddish coloration where specks of blue bristled at the edges. Gritting his razor sharp teeth together slightly, the vampire waited to see what kind of situation might play out. Regardless he had it in mind to find this 'Sir' fellow and gut him just like this miserable excuse for a being.

Hans gritted his teeth, but didn't respond, his head tilted as if listening to another. "He wants you to, and I quote, 'answer the damn phone already'." The werewolf spat, clearly displeased with the way things were going. The silence stretched on as the Hunter refused to answer the phone. Hans knew what the bastard was doing, and it irritated him to no end. But he didn't give Solus the satisfaction of seeing him speak again, just glared, and waited.

Solus chuckled along to the ringing, almost in sync as he watched Hans get more and more irritated as time went on. "You know... There is one thing I can admire about Sir. And that's his patience." Solus then pressed the green button on the screen and put the phone to his ear. "So the asshat decided to ring again. You really need to get some better minions. Unless you're really cheap and like to get them from thrift stores..."

There was a sigh at the other end of the line. Then, Hans's rune flared brightly once more and the werewolf let a strangled howl before slumping over on the ground, dead. Smoke rose from the rune on his neck. "Do I have your attention now? Good. You need to get into the apartment quickly, and tell the idiot with the sword to take it out of her hand because the Abyss is about to go too far and kill her soon if he doesn't! And then you'll lose the Abyss, because it'll die, and then you'll lose me, because this phone will disappear. Understand? Now, go!"

"First, you'll tell me what the Abyss is for, and then we will see if I even bother. I'm getting tired of chasing you, and immortality is just around the corner for me with just a single... very complex spell, with some sacrifices perhaps involved if need be. I can wait all eternity if I have to to kill you. So if you would care to share some information then perhaps I might give a damn." Solus' tone became far more serious. There was no joking, no humor, just a dark individual with a purpose.

Silence, there was silence on the phone. Finally, Sir spoke again. "So be it. I'll have to save the girl through another way." There was a click, and suddenly the phone was on speaker. "You! Vampire! The one with blood armor. If you don't take the sword from the girl's hand right now she will die! Innocence and protection and all that garbage you were speaking about will disappear, quite painfully and bloodily. Take the sword out of her hand now!.

"Don't listen to him... He's getting desperate. We have him cornered." Solus' voice was far more gentle this time. "Let me see the girl, I need to see her condition for myself."

Glancing to the now dead body of Hans Mairyell flicked his wrist and the body began to steam violently, as its essence had just been freed somewhat, allowing him to fully assimilate the beast's blood. "How unfortunate," he muttered with a slight frown as the blood evaporated the body and then flowed to Mairyell where it fluidly disipated into a light mist and was absorbed through his skin. Still, even with this he was itching to sink his teeth into something and it didn't seem like anyone here would be a good idea, especially because two out of three were his allies. However, when the phone switched over to speaker and the voice of Sir, the alleged boss of Hans, a slight smile grew on his features. "Now, let me get this straight, you send your lackeys to murder an innocent little girl, after killing her father. She ends up in my care, not to mention Julian's, after which point you send the wolf and two vampires to retrieve her. They all fail and you have the nerve to request the assistance of the-..." before he could finish, the man interrupted him. Mairyell glanced at him, seeming only slightly irritated by it.

"There was another Vampire." Solus interupted. "I killed her though, accidentally..."

"You're both idiots! Fools!"

"Now that's where you're wrong," he began. "You see, I never said no. The issue I have, is you are the cause of all this strife. All you seem to want is her body, you don't care about her, or her well being. You just want her body alive. Listening to you is unlikely to save what little sanity and mind she has left. However, listening to this one," he gestured towards Solus, knowing Sir couldn't see, "might give her a better chance. He seems...knowledgeable. Plus, I think he'll be able to provide me with something I've been craving for the last, what? Ten minutes." A dark smile then spread over Mairyell's features as he glanced directly into Solus' glowing sockets. "Does Sir place the runes on them with his own personal magic?"

Solus immediately threw the phone on the ground, it didn't break. But the Necromaster didn't give a damn. Then he suddenly rolled up his right arm sleeve, he knew a look of hunger on a Vampire when he saw one, and this one needed his fix. "Go ahead, but don't bleed me dry. If I don't have any blood I can't cast any spells to save the girl." Then his look became grim. "To answer your question, I don't know that yet. But if the girl lives, I can find that out. Now are you-"

"Your spells won't work fool! Let me exp-"

"GO EAT A CHODE!" He shouted back at the phone on the ground. "Now are you going to take me to the girl or not?"

"She's going to die. Centuries of work..gone. Because of two idiots."

"To be fair, you're the one who decided to use brute force first," Mairyell iterated as he briefly glanced at Solus' arm and then noted that he could smell the blood on his hand. Mairyell briefly shivered from head to toe and then narrowed his eyes at the man as he continued to speak to the phone. "Here, we can make a little[/} agreement. I'll [I]wait to track you down and you tell me the truth and how exactly listening to you will save her life, and her mind." Mairyell then glanced at Solus, completely ignoring the crude outburst from a moment before as he spoke. "You don't smell human, nor do you smell like a demon. You're like a mixing pot of scents, did you know that?" Shivering again he tried to dispel the feeling that he was in the presence of none other than an angel. Afterall, that was impossible, the man had no wings and he couldn't quite smell that in his essence...it was close though.

Regardless he walked across the distance, forming a claw as he did and then using it to draw a cut across his arm, lengthwise. "I'll try to contain myself, but I admit I'm rather thirsty after all this activity," Mairyell then laid his bare hand, the armor being absorbed into him so none of his blood made contact with Solus' body, and forcibly bonded a small portion of his Brisn with his will. He then pulled blood from Solus body, not too much, and absorbed it.

Still not quite parched, Mairyell lifted the arm and, sacrificing a bit of his human dignity for the better of the situation, he bit in. The pain would be unique, even for one such as Solus, as Mairyell's teeth were all fangs, a trait not the norm for vampires. Additionally, tiny portions of Mairyell's own acidic and poisonous blood would leak into him as he drank from the strange man. Still, not enough to cause his unique physiology any notable harm and to make sure of such, Mairyell withdrew after only ten seconds, as even another twenty of them would likely drain Solus to a dried husk, regardless of his power. Mairyell then forced his blood out of Solus' system through the cut and sealed it with his healing Brisn, wiping his mouth as he did and turning away.

He licked his lips subconsciously, noting a unique taste to the sanguine liquid. It was some of the best he'd ever tasted, likely with the sole exclusion of his sister's...which was as sweet and filling as was possible.

Solus felt woozy as he rolled his sleeve back down. "Honestly? I don't know how I can help her without knowing her condition. I need to see her, then we can make a deal."

Sir began laughing. It was a mad laugh, alternatively going high pitched and low pitched and every pitch in between. "The truth? Track me? Hahaa.." It was several more minutes before he regained control of himself, and even then he still giggled. "Sorry..Rune breaking down...hehehehee. Anyways, I've been telling you the truth, hehe. The girl is going to die, the Abyss is going to take over her soul, hehee. Her mind isn't there for the bonding process to complete! I can't promise that her mind will be saved, but her life certainly will, hahaha! So, make your decision innocence protector! Hehehe. Let the girl die, or go on the off chance she might not go insane!" Sir descended into mad giggling once more.

"Come with me," Mairyell stated simply, not even bothering to specify whether or not he would help the obviously deluded man on the phone, "oh and bring the phone, just incase." Mairyell then proceeded to walk into the building and began up the stairs, likely with Solus right behind him. As he climbed up he debated what exactly to tell Julian, afterall, neither of them really knew this person. In fact, he didn't even know his name. At this thought Mairyell spoke, not even turning to do so but trudging on. "What's your name, hunter?"

"Solus Grim, demon slayer, necromancer, exorsist, etcetera and etcetera..." He replied as he followed Mairyell up the stairs.

He simply nodded and continued going up, eventually getting to the third floor which he stopped ascending on in the interest of getting to the apartment. He then walked to the door and opened it, motioning for Solus to wait a moment as he called in to Julian. "I brought...someone, who might be able to help. His name is Solus Grim, he's an exorsist," he said, choosing which title to use very carefully. He then pushed the door open and let Solus walk in first, putting him inbetween himself and Julian, that way he would have to fight them from both sides if he proved to actually be a threat rather than an ally.

"Exorcism isn't going to work! Just take the sword out of her hand, and she'll live. Don't do it, and she'll die. Trust me, I created the damn thing!" Sir chimed in.

"Hey" Solus nodded towards the bearded man who... well, smelled really badly. Though he felt like he saw him before somewhere, he couldn't place where. But he paid that no mind. He then looked down at the girl. His eyes widened as he surveyed her state. His voice lowered down to a barely audible whisper. "Oh, she is so fucked." He rubbed his temples for a moment and then dragged his hand down his face as he knelt down next to the poor thing, she was still twisting and changing. "Level 3 possession..." He began mumbling to himself as he recited the symptoms and engraved them into his mind.

"Multiple fractures, Hypertension..." Solus put his hand to her face and opened one of her eyes.

"Minor insanity, Black eyes, possible chance of Death if you don't yank the sword out of her hand!"

Solus pulled out his flashlight and shone it right into her open eye. It hadn't fully dilated yet, but it was quickly going to turn into a full black eyeball if he didn't do something quickly. "...pupil dilation beyond 9 millimeter radius..." he continued. Her arms continued thrashing around, one almost punching through a wall. "...supernatural strength..." He didn't need to know anymore.

"This girl's essence is bonding." Solus said outloud. "Her body is changing with every second we waste. How'd she end up like this?"

"Correction. Her body isn't changing, the Abyss is just moving in. As for how she ended up like this, well, Hans gave her an activation bead and you can see the results for yourself. Sword boy. Take it out of her hand, or she'll die."

"Ignore him." Solus replied, still watching the girl. "Vampire, do you have access to any first aid kits? I need a Spazmolitic. Otherwise her body will tear itself apart. Also find a sterilized sharp knife, we will need it to cut her open to remove the bead." With the orders given he turned to the bearded male sitting beside him. "I was told this sword belongs to you. I need to know everything about it before I can enter her mind."

Julian should have looked shocked at the Human who obviously was tainted or imbedded with Demonic influence. But in all honesty he had seen far stranger things in his lifetime. With Mairyell close behind him, he could tell that this thing was at least no enemy. And due to the urgent nature of a bunch of people telling him conflicting orders. That now was not the time to be introducing one another. For now he kept the sword clasped in Mary's hand tightly and looks at the man.

“It's... its hard to explain what it is. The best explanation would be a one way portal in a sense. With something on the other side who is holding off the transformation right now. It seems she's been mind linked with him for the moment, something that is automatic when anybody touches this thing for the most part.”

Julian's description of it was vague, but it was effective as it could be. For one, explaining this sword in a 30 second blip would result in him telling his life story. Which he didn't really feel like doing. And secondly, he honestly didn't know what that sword was or what it was that had created it. He had never gotten a name or anything behind it. Just an alias: The Heretic

“Her mind is linked to somewhere in Hell now” he said slowly “Most likely having a conversation with something that could break her mind if it felt like it, but it seemed to want to help her.”

Julian looked down at Mary worriedly knowing full well what she was seeing, for he had seen it as well, and far worse

“I didn't want to put her mind through this. But it seemed to be the only way to hold off whatever is that's happening. I didn't know what else to do.”

"Help me hold her down..." Solus ordered as he pushed the thrashing body down onto the ground, trying to stop the spasming with his arms. "What's her name?" He asked.

"Mary" Julian barked back as he pinned her arms down.

Solus grabbed her head with his left hand, and dug the thumb of his right hand into its cut open palm to get some "ink" to draw with. He then took his bloody right thumb and started to draw symbols on Mary's forehead. Strange symbols. Each simple yet beyond understanding. Now with four bloody symbols on her forehead, Solus placed his bloody palm on it, and whispered soothingly. "Hold on Mary, just for a few moments longer" He then rubbed out the symbols and barked. "Where the hell is that first aid, Vampire?"

Mairyell listened to what he said and contemplated while Julian filled him in regarding the blade and the situation as well. When Solus barked an order at him a second time he jolted back to reality, the blood he had taken from Solus actually assuaging him more than normal. Feeling rejuvenated by it, Mairyell moved past the two and looked down at Mary, not immediately responding as he thought for a brief moment. Then, making a decision he closed his eyes and spoke as he focused, "I have something better," he stated as his body began to glow with a blue light. Then, opening his eyes and bending down over her body, Mairyell moved her shirt away from he stomach, leaving her chest covered, and placed both of his hands there. In a rush the blue light flowed from his body and surrounded her, wreathing her in its light.

In response her body would become mostly still as the energy permeated the rest of her form, calming her muscles and healing her at rates not normally possible for humans. It was a powerful magic, but the issue is he didn't know how long he could make it last. "I'll estimate that this will last anywhere between two hours and one minute, granted if I try and make it last even an hour I'll go into an uncontrollable blood rage. Regardless, it should calm her body, stop the spasms, and heal her faster than whateverthefuck can damage her. Hopefully that's enough."

Solus watched the Vampire with keen interest. He wanted to ask what kind of magic that was, but he would have to save that question for later.

He got his bloody thumb again and began to draw new symbols on Mary's head. On the forehead were the four symbols he drew earlier were, he drew a circle, and then within it, an upside-down star, it's edges toughing the perimeter of the circle. He then wrote a single character on each side, one on the left of the circle, and another on the right. He then moved his thumb to her right temple, and drew un upside-down cross. On her left temple he drew a cross that was the right side up. Underneath each eye, he wrote two symbols. With everything he needed marked on her head, the Necromaster then made a sequence of signs with his right hand, something akin to magic casting gestures.

The bloody markings lit up with red flames, with black lightning arcs of energy crackling out of them. Solus positioned his hands on each side of Mary's head with the palms facing her cheeks, careful not to touch her. "You can remove the sword now..."

Julian nodded worriedly as he watched the man do his work. He had heard of such magic before, but had never witnessed it himself. He grabs the sword from Mary and immediately his eyes widened in a very familiar horror and quickly yanked away the sword from the girl before she was forced to see anymore. He falls backwards onto the ground, as if the sword's energy pushed him back. For a moment, there was no feelings of malice that the sword was associated with. This time it was something more horrifying that Julian could briefly see in his mind's eye before he blocked out the image. He would deal with that thing later.

He rises up and quickly sheathes the blade and almost immediately the insanity that it exerted seemed distant from the world. His sword hand was red and steam was rolling off it was the blade, but it was sheathed now. It couldn't hurt anybody as long as Julian was there to resist it. Yet his face seemed haggard and gaunt. As if whatever he felt or saw was a painful reminder of something atrocious.

He stares at Mary and waits for a miracle to happen.

With the sword now removed, Solus could do his work. His hands that were hovering beside Mary's head now grabbed her. The Necromaster began to mutter something incomprehensible and Mary's eyes snapped open to reveal her now pitch black eyes. Solus lined up his eyes with her's, and the flames in his eyes suddenly extinguished, revealing his own, pure black eyes.

Mary's eyes set a flame with the same green fire that burned out of Solus' sockets. He was now in her body. His own body was nothing but a seemingly empty shell that just sat there, it's empty eyes staring into the still unconscious girl.

All the others in the room could do now was wait.

Lucien, Hazumi and Azel

Hazumi didn’t usually return home before dusk but in her current state even she realized it was the wise thing to do. There were still hours to go before the sun came up when she landed on the rooftop, this time too tired to stretch or do anything else. In fact, even the flight here had felt like an agonizing eternity – the wounds weren’t healing properly and the mysterious hunger from before was threatening to resurface.

What’s wrong with me? the angel wondered with a sigh as she sat down and let her eyes roam over the city. It was unusually quiet, no crime or violence screaming to make itself noticed. It was too calm somehow, in a way that spelled upcoming disaster… But of what kind? Would it mean too much work… or too little? Her hands were itching to taste blood but there was nothing worth killing for. Hazumi bit her lip and tried to reject the idea of once again losing her purpose.

She got to her feet and staggered back to the apartment where her almost-splitting image opened the door. Both of them took a surprised step back – her because she still wasn’t used to seeing her own self staring back at her, and him, because of the state of her beaten body. After a second elapsed they both silently nodded at each other and Azel took a few steps back, his fake wings catching on the light-fixture and causing a curse. A smile touched Hazumi’s lips at the familiarity of that feeling. Taking a rugged breath she stepped into the bathroom and sat on the closed toilet, leaning her back on the cold tile. She heard Azel alerting Lucien of her return and tried to clear her throat enough to speak. The action caused the rupture to soak her shirt with more blood so she pressed her hand against her broken throat before she tried to speak again.

“Guys?” She called, her voice strangely faltering. “Could you come over, please?”

Lucien was sharpening his blade. There was something coming. He could feel it. Just like it was in the days before heaven's gate fell. War. Death. Catastrophe. There would be blood and death. That much is certain. Lucien grinned. "I hope your sheep are ready for it, Cowards. Because true Demons are knocking on the door.." He said aloud, apparently speaking to the Council. Several good things would come from the chaos, that much was certain. He heard the door opening, and glanced over expectantly. The nightly ritual hadn't stopped, even when it was revealed that the Cowards had been lying to and manipulating her for their own purposes.

His dau-the Demon came first. Lucien's face flickered with grief, and then it was gone, back into his usual mask of repressed violence. It was a constant battle, to remind himself that it wasn't his daughter, walking and breathing again. It did nothing to improve his opinion of the demon, but he had to admit it's effectiveness. The Demon was still breathing when it should be killed and rotting by now. Didn't make it any less annoying, but it served the purpose of keeping the Demon alive, certainly. As Azel began to speak, likely to alert him of the obvious, Hazumi called out. Something was wrong.

Lucien stood quickly, brushing past the Demon, and opened the door tot he bathroom. At a glance he took in the damage. "What happened?"

"Maulrnuk..." Hazumi said simply and swallowed which made her frown. "But... something is wrong."

Azel poked his head in the bathroom and his mouth quivered into an unbelieving smile.

"Are we seriously having a conversation in the bathroom?"

"I'm still bleeding." Hazumi explained with a frown. "I'd get the carpet dirty. I barely managed to get out the stains Lucien created yesterday."

"Right. Well, I'll go read--"

"No. Stay." Hazumi asked and leaned her head on her knee with a sigh. "I need advise. I need to know what I'm fighting for. I need to know what you guys fight for."

Azel jumped the opportunity to talk first - he knew once Lucien started his opinion would be as good as non-existent.

"Survival. But if I had your guys' power, I'd fight for peace. I'd try to protect the weaklings such as myself and allow them to leave their own trail in this world."

Hazumi stared at him with a puzzled look.

"I thought you demons preyed on the weak."

"A biological need is not the same as an ideological desire. Death will always exist, I just wish I could tip the balance enough to give everyone an opportunity to live, not just the strongest ones. Like in the human world - something you two wouldn't know enough about."

"What do you mean?"

"Humans are almost identical phycisally. Sure, they still find ways to prey on each other but they're much closer to equality than any of us."

Hazumi didn't say anything but it was obvious she was trying to comprehend the idea of humans being worthy of respect.

Ah. Maulrnuks. Nasty little bastards. As Hazumi explained to Azel about the reasons she had decided to have this conversation in the bathroom, Lucien wisely decided not to pursue the subject of how it was just a carpet and she was bleeding. Some things were not meant to be understood, and this was clearly one of them. He remained silent as Hazumi asked her question and the Demon leapt in before he could. There was something to what the Demon said. As he finished, Lucien spoke.

"The Demon is right. Out of all of us, the humans have nothing that makes any one of them better than the other biologically. They all suffer from the same weaknesses, the same strengths. Things only begin to change when they change it. As for what I fight for, I'll tell you that when you tell me what is wrong." She had said something was wrong before Azel had stuck his head in there, and she had abruptly changed the subject. He leaned against the wall, sword in hand, waiting expectantly.

Hazumi's eyes slid up to meet Lucien's and she stared at him as if he had the pieces necessary for her to form a sentence.

"Something is wrong... with me." She admitted. "With my body and my soul... I don't know what but they're malfunctioning and... not healing properly and... plaguing me with hunger... It feels... strange. But worse than that, I'm not sure that... that what I'm doing is right. If I shouldn't be doing something else." She sighed and leaned her head back on her knee. This was pathetic.

Lucien raised an eyebrow. It was rare for an Angel's healing property, even with the current sheep of the Council, to not work. And strange hunger? It was odd, to say the least. "Hunger for what, exactly?" The unsureness could be dealt with easily enough later. The failing of the things in combat that are keeping her alive, that was a bit more complicated to deal with. And who knows? Maybe(as impossible as it was) she was hungry for demon flesh and he could solve that problem quite quickly. Lucien glanced briefly at Azel at the thought, smirking slightly.

Hazumi didn't look up at him this time and she kept silent for slightly longer than before. Her voice sounded uncertain when she spoke.

"I don't know... All I know is that I want to kill. It doesn't feel right to... it doesn't feel right to come back home so early when I know there's so much to kill out there. But how do I know if they really deserve to die?"

"Well they probably don't." Azel muttered irritably.

Lucien didn't even bother glancing at the demon this time. "Depends on who you're killing. Most humans don't deserve to die. They live normal lives, doing the best they can with what they have. Some, however, are like demons. Evil, they give into the darker sides of their nature. Murders, rapists, child molestors. They deserve to die." Lucien stared at Azel now. "Most demons deserve to die as well. Whether it be simply their nature or personal choice, they cause nothing but death and suffering wherever they go. Humans are playthings to them. Some, very few, don't deserve to die. For whatever reason, they use their powers to help. To Keep the Balance, or to protect, or care for. Very, very few."

Hazumi looked up to Lucien and pinned her eyes on his.

"That... You sound wiser than you did before. You sound more like an Archangel now." She pointed out. "They also say that. But they don't think humans deserve to die at all. But... they told me to kill those humans... Or... could you have been the one who gave me that order?" Something dark appeared in her eyes as she placed the accusation and only spread when she continued. "In order to shake my belief in the Council? In order to make me do your bidding...?"

Lucien's eyes narrowed. "Be very careful. I am many things, most of them flaws, but I am not the type to order the death of innocents just to convince one that she is being blinded and manipulated by the Cowards." He gave a bitter smile, remembering. "They say alot. They said their new weapon would make Angels stronger, make it easier for us to fight against the Demons who were slowly but surely winning the War. We believed them. I believed them. She believed them, and was the first to volunteer. Her death wasn't quick, nor clean. A Demonic parasite, if what they told me was true. Worked too fast, they said. Honorable sacrifice, they said. Then, they turned around and used her as a scape goat for when we lost the war."

"In other words, no. I don't want you to see the truth about them badly enough that I'd convince you to murder humans who didn't deserve to die, even if I possessed that power!"

Hazumi smacked her lips and paused before she finally spoke.

“What happened to her. Tell me more. ...And what happened to you.”

"That," Lucien said softly, "is a very long story. You sure you want me to tell you it?"

Was she? That story could further convince her of the incompetence of the Council and only double her doubts. Then again, hadn't she always wished to be able to know as much about them as she possibly could? Hadn't she wished to be educated and respected for knowledge that went further than demon's anathomy and skills?

And did she really have anything left to lose?

Biting her lip nervously Hazumi nodded.

Lucien was silent for a few moments before beginning. "It was towards the end of the Great War. Hell's forces were marching steadily towards Heaven's gate and there was nothing we could do to stop them. We had lost this war of attrition. When we died, our souls went back to heaven and then were reborn, but we took time to grow into our full strength. When we beat our opponents, our only benefit was knowledge how to kill that type easily, and there was always more, always stronger."

"The Demons, however, when the Demons died, they were reborn and ready to fight within seconds of being reborn. When they beat their opponents, they were one step closer to evolving, to becoming stronger. For everyone we slew, dozens would leap up in it's place, desparate to kill an Angel and consume it's essence. We had been retreating for years, and the only victories we gained from the conflict were coming back from it alive. Then the Cowards came, proclaiming they had found a way to make us stronger. To turn the tide against the Demons."

"We were desparate enough to believe them. The Demons were almost upon our doorstep, and we had no where else to turn. My daughter, she had just come of age two days ago. Old enough to be sent to the War front. She was so proud, so eager to do what she could to fight against those that had taken her mother and threatened her home. She was the first to volunteer. I was there when they injected her with the substance. It felt wrong. It's essence was Demonic, but suppressed. I should have stopped it as soon as I felt the wrongness in the substance, but I didn't, because I still trusted the Cowards."

"For the first few weeks, she was fine. No notable change, she was just normal. She survived her first conflicts, I made sure of that, and she served Heaven to the best of her ability. I had never been prouder, never been happier. Three days before the Fleshshaper's monstrosity reached the Heaven's Gate, she began to change. To sicken. Her wings darkened, and she began to puke a black liquid. It grew worse and worse, and when I confronted the Cowards they told me they had made a mistake. It was a Demonic Parasite that they thought would help us. Obviously, they were wrong. Before I could kill them, the Fleshshaper's construct arrived at the gates."

"We managed to slow the creature, but not stop him. The Cowards were being held accountable for their claims. They needed a scape goat. My daughter's wings were now black, and she was nearly unable to move by herself. So they used her. Claimed her wings had blackened because of the betrayal she had done, helping the Demons get that monster to the Gate. They dragged her before a mob." Lucien's voice, soft grief filled while he spoke, suddenly turned hard and hate infused every word, every syllabel. "They dragged her in front of a mob that tore and spat at her. They made me watch. They claimed she deserved no trial because of her sin. Then they took a sword and decapitated her to the roar of the crowd." Lucien's voice broke and his gaze was far away, reliving the scene. The horror, the helplessness, the burning rage and hate. The betrayal.

Shaking his head, he returned his gaze to Hazumi. "Minutes aftewards, the Fleshshapers monster broke the gate. Everyone panicked and tried to stop the Demons from flooding in to the opening. In the chaos, I was left unguarded. In the chaos I found the Coward who killed my daughter, and I killed him." Lucien's voice took on a fierce pleasure and satisfaction. "He was the only Angel to not die by a Demon's hand that day. The survivors scattered to the human world as Heaven burned."

"The Cowards perfected their formula there. They got to mind control the newest generation. Black wings, sin of their forefathers. It was disgusting, and I was sealed in onyx and unable to stop them. They created Dark Wings. They claimed it was sin that they had to wash off.." Lucien gave a laugh. It was a harsh sound. "Their own sin, perhaps." He stared at Hazumi for a few more moments before speaking again.

"You asked what I fight for? I fight for vengeance. I fight for death. They will die, and I will die. There is no place for us left in this world. It is your kind that this world belongs to, and we should not be ruling you like the Gods. It used to be that I fought for peace, for balance. I respected the Demons, and acknowledged their need for existence same as ours. Even during the war, I pushed for pursuing peace. Obviously, that changed when they ransacked Heaven and the Cowards killed my daughter."

While she was listening, Hazumi’s face betrayed her growing shock and… sympathy. His words almost seemed to cause her physical pain, making her heart beat faster and her eyes – water. Her breath became even more labored and by the time Lucien spoke of the fate of his daughter tears were already streaming down her cheeks. Clutching her chest she tried to ease the pain in her heart that felt like she was dying herself and the only thing that could save her was holding another being close or being held herself.

But Lucien didn’t stop talking. He continued and he destroyed all she knew about her sins and her duties and then… then came the worst part. Then he said the fate of the world lie in the hands of the likes of her. And his words gripped her throat tight and squeezed all air out of her. And he told her he wouldn’t stop destroying until everything she knew was gone, and that was a mission she couldn’t follow him in.

Beside Lucien the second dark angel in the room placed a hand on his arm in a gentle, reassuring gesture. Lucien’s daughter looked up to him with a smile and kissed his cheek. As she removed both her lips and her hand from him her figure slowly grew, the wings and smile slowly disappearing, replaced by the sight of an unfamiliar demon.

“I’m sorry for your daughter. But this was the last time. I won’t take her image again.”

Hazumi took a deep breath and lifted her head to stare at the opposite wall.

"Sorry for your daughter." She repeated. "And thank you."

He could tell he had made an impression, and could only hope it was enough. He hadn't wanted to cause suffering, which was why he had given her a choice. But truth was often not the easiest thing to bear, and it often caused pain.

"Sorry won't bring her back. Neither will their deaths. But they deserve to die for their crimes. And I will make sure of it." He stood, wiping away the tears that had gathered in his eyes when Azel had granted him a final favor from his daughter. Some Demons didn't deserve to die. Very few, and Lucien had only met one before now. This would make two.

"I can't tell you what to fight for. Only you can decide that. But I can tell you, that whatever you chose, you'd best believe in it with all you have. Because someday, it may be all you have left." He glanced at her beaten and battered form, once more in control of himself. "Now, I assume you've healed enough to stop bleeding, and you can make it to the bed. Something tells me that a cold floor isn't doing wonders for your malfunctioning health."

Hazumi nodded.
“Go out. I’ll shower first.”

And just like that the moment was over and reality caught up to this unusual bubble it had somehow left behind. Whether the void of the burst bubble would leave a scar, only time would tell.

Outside the bathroom Azel hesitated and shifted uncertainly in place. It didn’t seem right to pretend this all never happened. But it also felt wrong to talk about it.

“Would you like me to leave?” He asked simply.

The Flashback: Removal of the Apostate and the Glorious uprising; Part two

“Well I can see you're all righteous idiots” the powerful voice spoke. It's body was Human and its essence was definitely Human. But it seemed so overpowering. Like it was smothering all the other essences down to assert its own.. royalty in a strange sense. Which was odd because there was a high ranking Angel in the tent with him, along with some other Angelic officials who looked with their head down. They had heard much about this “unknown champion” of Sosaria, but dismissed him as some Human who had gotten lucky in a few fights. But this man seemed... very different.

For the unknown champion stood there, bare chested and with a lance of some sort as a weapon. With an entire army modernized and only the few elite Angels carrying the more traditional weapons. This was a sight to behold. The man was large and looked powerful. With a bald head, a strong face and bright blue eyes.

“Six Angels, top warriors might I add sent to their deaths because you were impatient. The orders were clear I thought. Do not engage Lord Blackhawke until the Queen's forces could reinforce you. Instead you took some of the best warriors of Heaven and wasted them on stupid arrogance.”

The Angelic Commander blinked, not believing he was taking this kind of talk from a mere Human. But every time he had the courage to stand up for himself. It was as if the Champion sense it and with his hard, piercing eyes caused the Angel's mettle to collapse upon itself. So he stood there and took the berating.

“I-i'm sorry sir... we had broken through and I wanted to end the fighting quickly.”

The Champion nodded sympathetically and walked out of the tent, but not before saying one more order.

“I'm going to defeat the former King. I want my flank supported on my way inside. Pull back your forces, Commander they must be tired from the fighting. Use the human forces that Sosaria has provided for you. I will consider this an exception to the agreement made at the council meeting and will notify the Angelic hierarchy I gave you permission to use Human forces.”

The Commander fluttered his wings, somewhat stunned. How did this Human have such strong connections?

“Sir don't you need armor or protection of some sort” Noting his bare chest and wool gray pants. How did this man with a spear and no protection seek to beat a monster who just killed six battle Angels? Then again... that monster was Human too. Maybe there was more too them.

The champion smiled and waved nonchalantly at the Commander before leaving the Tent.

“I will be fine Commander. Do your duty and bring honor to the Angels whom you represent.”

*

This place reeked of an essence he knew all too well. A familiar and pitiful remnant of the past. One last scheme he thought. One last twist before he would be pulled back into the sad little world he was trapped in. The hallway that led to the throne room was layered in blood. A pair of wings had been torn at the roots with the King's bare hands. At the end of the hallways was the rubble that was once the door. A hand and a mangled face sticking out of. The champion grimaced, these Angels had worked and served with courage and honor all their lives, and their diligence had been award with immense power to smite the evils that lurked throughout the lands. They deserved a better death than this abject humiliation. Though it wasn't surprising, his real opponent was driven to hate and spurn Angels for reasons that the Champion found delusional. Such a shame what happens to old friends.

As he climbs over the rubble and into the dark throne room. The whole place had been acquired by the spirit. He had succeeded in making a permanent base on the Surface. Which while impressive was something the Champion could not abide by.

“Another fly sent to the hawk” a deep echo rumbled behind the dark fog of the throne room.

“Not exactly” mused the Champion. Noting the remaining bodies had been... prepared. Their bodies all impaled on 5 foot stalactites made out of dried blood... their own blood. Impressive, if not repulsive and perverted.

A loud, animalistic roar echoed throughout not only the throne room. But all of London.

“You are my cousin's champion!” it accused.

“You are a traitor to the King and therefore to the Gods.”

The Champion brow furrowed as he readied his spear. How far gone was Blackhawke's spirit? Could it is salvaged? He would certainly try.

“I believe Lord Blackhawke that you've forgotten what a King and a God is.”

And out of the Darkness, red pours throughout.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The land is hot and stuffy, almost unbearably so. The blazing wind kicks up dust and sand and Mary can taste how gritty the air is. This place was designed to be unpleasant, a punishment almost to whatever called this place home. But it had no traces of a Demon, the essence here was certainly malice and hatred, but also a sobbing, writhing sadness and the pain of thousands of thousands of years. Bitter, loathing swelled throughout the landscape. But also something else, something more soft and vulnerable.

Through the background a red figure starts to walk towards Mary as it seamlessly tears and rips through the dirt and sand swirling around the harsh landscape simply by moving. He came as a prisoner, but through neglect and arrogant underestimation, he had become the warden and owner of this domain, which despite being apart of Hell, had been claimed by something else. For something mysterious barely lit the ground around her. But it's source, Mary could not see. As if the sad red light emitted from something invisible. But she could feel it, high in the sky, pressuring her, looking down at her as a curious enigma. It's essence was the same as the red figure stumbling towards her. But the only thing that she sense from it was a furious genocidal fury.

“Welcome to my Humble abode” the figure said, its words sounded nasily, in pain and seethed in contempt not necessarily of her, but of everything else. His red cloak obscured his figure and seemed to morph and sway in whatever direction it please. And the hood drooped so low as to cover his face, which when Mary got the occasional half second glance at, seemed to resemble an oil painting of something horrible and unspeakable. How ironic, considering what the being actually was.

“Your body is being invaded by some sort of foreign force. But its no matter, just another machination of an inferior being.”

Mary would remember that voice now, the one in the Alleyway that spoke to her, before Julian had picked up the sword.

Mary glanced around warily at the hellish landscape. Wherever she was, while certainly unpleasant, wasn't doing anything that caused fear to rise in her. Still..she could feel the loathing, the hatred, the malice and the fury. It pressed down all around her against her, and Mary hugged her arms around herself in a futile attempt to protect herself from the world around her. That's when she noticed the figure stumbling towards her. Fear rose this time and she took a step back as it approached, before realizing that there really wasn't anywhere she could go and that whatever was approaching her probably knew the landscape far better than she did. So Mary waited, shaking in fear and hoping that whatever it was wouldn't try and kill her, or torture her, or generally cause her pain and/or terror.

When it spoke, she was reminded of Henry's nasal voice and gave an involuntary whimper. As much at the memory of the vampire as the memory of what Mairyell did to him. The occasional glance of the thing's face she got didn't help calm her down either. She wanted to say something, anything, in response to the creature that showed it she wasn't as afraid of it as she felt, and that she was inches away from breaking down. She wanted to, but couldn't. Instead, Mary stuttered out "W-where am I? A-and who a-are y-y-you?" The fear in her voice was quite evident.

The figure let out a humorous wheeze at Mary's question as an attempt at a chuckle.

“Technically you are still in that building. But I've transported your mind to me here for the time. You're turning into something that your body is rejecting. So that man you know put the sword in your hand. I'm currently the only thing slowing down whatever is happening to you”

The thing began to cough and wheeze, its hunched and crooked body seemed contorted in unnatural ways underneath that hood. The sounds of his coughs were horrible; painful, aching, a black sludge like material oozed out of the hood whenever he coughed and his attempts to wipe it away only smeared the robe.

“I was once like you. Like every one else is. Scared, oppressed, my dignity stripped and was left powerless as I watched impotent and inferior beings sack and rape my kins humanity and reduce them to twisted tools that are abominations before the Gods!”

His rant had begun building up and the world began to burn up with an intensifying that originated from an invisible object in the sky. But suddenly began to calm down as the red hooded figure composed himself again.

“The very thing that is happening to your body I’m afraid, another casualty in this war for a power this scum cannot hope to obtain”

Mary was terrified. She didn't want to be transformed into something. She didn't want to be in this hellish place, even if it was just her mind. As the thing continued to speak, she could only think of one person in the apartment who could truly be considered human, even without the additional hint of the sword. Julian? I thought he was fighting that thing... Mary's thoughts were abruptly cut off as the thing began to cough, sludge oozing out of his hood as his body twisted. She was torn between shrinking away in disgust, or see in if she could help the thing. 

It quickly made the decision for her.

As his rant began building up Mary shrank away in dread, panic pulsing through her veins. He's going to kill me. He's going to snap and kill me. She thought, barely noticing the world around her. Then he was calm again. Speaking calmly about her death, her being another casualty. "But I don't want to die. I just want to go home. To have nothing more to worry about than what was on TV, or the weather. To see my mom and dad again..." And just like that, Mary's legs couldn't hold her weight any more and she sank to the ground. She couldn't go home. Her parents were dead, for some reason Demons were hunting her, and had apparently succeeded in whatever they wanted to do...And now it looked like she was going to die a painful death. For what seemed like the hundreth time that day, Mary began crying. 

He stands there, frozen in his unnatural body and listens to the tears of the innocent stain his impure home. The atmosphere becomes less oppressive, and more somber, if only temporarily. For he knew of every emotion she revealed, all too well. And thus he begins to melt in the sand below him, his red cloak morphing into a black tar that soaked the ground, his twisted, pained body becoming the sludge that he had been coughing out just before. The last thing his body did was clasped its hands together, as if it was praying.

The sludge moves quickly, like a flickering shadow through the sands, edging closer to Mary, its voice soft, almost innocent, almost. It wanted to be, but never could.

“No more” it said firmly “I will end all this suffering, the road to salvation is coming soon sweet child. And they will never hurt us again....they will never hurt me again. I promise, you will be the last of their tools. I will avenge you, your brethren will avenge you. All the Angelic and Demonic filth. They will be gone soon and only the Gods chosen inheritors shall remain."

The black substance moves meekly towards her. Love, care, protection, these are feelings it never showed but had always been capable of it. It etches closer to her, as if it was staring at her sobbing face.

“P-please, please don't cry”

She didn't notice him melting into sludge on the ground, wrapped up in her own despair. She was going to die. Not only die, but something was going to take her own body and soul from her, and do who knows what with it. If she had even the smallest chance of going home, returning to a semblance of normalcy, it was gone now. She should have just killed herself. It would have been an easier death. A quicker death. But no. She had to listen to Julian and be drawn ever further into this hell. Into this world that she had no place in, this world she had no chance of survival in. She was only alive by the mercy of a few strangers. Julian. Cael. Even Mairyell, in direct contrast to his earlier reaction to her. 

As the thing spoke, she only sobbed harder. She didn't want to be avenged. She wanted to go home, to leave this nightmare behind her. She didn't want to become a martyr, the first casualty in a revolution against Angels and Demons. Mary didn't care about all that. Everything she cared about had been ripped from her. They destroyed her sense of safety, killed her parents, nearly convinced her that her life wasn't worth living, and now they were finally taking her life from her. Not to mention her soul. 

As it spoke the final time, she remembered. In the alley, before Julian had arrived and picked up his sword. It was the same voice..the same words. Sniffling and still crying Mary asked once more, "W-w-who are y-you? W-what a-a-are y-y-y-you?" The sludge continued to etch towards her but Mary didn't care anymore. She just wanted it all to end.

The sludge that trailed towards her stopped and slowly retreated and formed a puddle of the black, bubbly substance. It looked like it was boiling, smoldering hot that could burn the skin of anything that came into contact with it. It begins to rise and morph and take shape into some sort of blob with its top portion rounded off to resemble some sort of head.

Suddenly, it opened its eyes. It didn't even look like it had eyes, but they were red, and blood poured out of them, as if it was crying.

“They call me the Heretic, the Traitor, the murderer of the Great One. The spurner of Heaven. Ironic since Heaven is all those things. Except to a far higher power. The only one that matters.”

The blood stream flows out faster and faster, as if the memories of his past makes him cry harder, but no weeping is heard. Just seen and felt.

“I am unseen and forgotten. No one in this world remembers my face. But soon all will remember me, and the injustice that I predicted would curse the surface ”

As the thing began to retreat, Mary began to stop crying. She was still scared, and despairing, but she had at least regained control of herself. That immediately changed when she glanced at the source of the voice once more. For a few moments, she could do nothing more than just stare in numb horror. It was a monster, a thing of nightmares. She barely registered it's words, or when it stopped talking for that matter. She could only look at it, in a kind of horrid fascination. 

Then, the spell broke and she recoiled, screaming. Fear pounded in her veins and she scrambled backwards, feeling something warm trickle down her legs. She had pissed herself. If Mary wasn't terrified out of what remained of her mind, she would have been embarrassed, or laughed at herself. As it was, she just kept crawling backwards away from this thing. Whatever it was, she didn't want to know anymore. She wanted to leave, she wanted to go back to the state of detachment. She wanted to be gone, away from this thing that wept blood. 

“So be it” it murmured as the tar began to evaporate within the air and the vapors that came forth swirled and danced amidst a non existent wind. A with each spasm, each twitch and flicker of the dark fog a shape of a person formed. A soon, floating shadow with human legs and arms and a human face formed out of the toxic vapors.

“Your old life will be gone soon and all that will be left is the one I shall pave for not only you but the rest of humanity. Accept the new and throw away the old. It was all a lie anyway, a lie that was made clear by demons and their insignificant schemes.”

He becomes lost in thought, almost ignoring Mary yet still holding the foreign influence at bay. He would make sure it wouldn't take another Human for as long as he could.

“Things would have gone so much smoother if it wasn't for the incompetent Bla-

He stops mid rant and looks down on the frightened Mary and just gives her a mischievous smirk with his surprisingly Human face; even if it was made out of smoke and vapors.

“... I mean Julian, oh dear. He would be very upset if I told you the truth about him. That pathetic excuse of a man!”

Mary stopped retreating only reluctantly as a humanoid shape began to form out of the vapors. She was shaking violently, eyes wide with terror. Even if this thing was trying to help her it didn't make Mary any less terrified of it, now that she knew what forms it held. As it began to rant once more about humanity and an apparent revolution, she couldn't help but think; I don't want a new life. I want my old life back, where everything was safe and structured and not trying to kill me! But of course, she didn't have the courage to say that aloud to this..spurner of Heaven. 

She gave a whimper of fear when he looked down at her, terror making her thoughts run down paths that all ended in it horribly killing her. What she wasn't expecting, however, was it to mention Julian in more than a passing gesture. She blinked once, still shaking, as it ended with calling Julian a pathetic excuse of a man. Fearing what change in it's form she would bring about Mary asked warily, "W-what do you m-mean?"

He started laughing, not that pained laugh like before. But a powerful, loud laugh, a laugh that could make his world shake by its enormity. For he could do anything he wished in this land. For his essence had soaked the soil and turned it into his toy.

“He was weakling, a complete fool! I gave him the power to crush his enemies into dust. And he squabbled it. Lost all he had to that.... MAN!

The world fired up for a brief moment as his rage at the thought of this mystery man enraged him to the point where it became almost uncontrollable. But left as soon as it came and he reverted back to his chuckling, snickering self.

“He killed all in his path, and spurned the Heavens, made absolute fools out of them. Then he went and lost it all. He still has it, the power to crush everything in his path. He just refuses to use what I gave him, and now regret due to his tendencies to be an erroneous failure. And blames it on me! As if I'm the reason he lost it all. He sees me as a liar when in fact I opened his mind. Now he has blocked it off and I can never get access again. That sword was wasted on him. But the deed is done, and it cannot be undone.”

He swirls his body around Mary, almost like a joyful skip or leap.

“I'll leave the awkward explaining of things to him. He can tell you the story of his disgusting incompetence. One more punishment he has to face. But know this; no matter how kind he acts or how well he treats you, that facade can and will disappear and you will see who he truly is. With just a pluck of an eye. He can become a festival for the slaughter.

There was a pause as he hovered around Mary, feeling something far beyond his world. He made another smile, but this time, it showed admiration, maybe even pity.

“Ironic, considering right now. He's holding you and keeping you safe. He tries to forget what he is.”

When he laughed, Mary thought she felt the earth beneath her shake a little. It may have just been her frightened mind, but then again, it seemed that anything was possible in this world. As he suddenly shouted in rage, Mary shrank away trying to make herself as small as possible. Quickly,however, he calmed down and returned to his chuckling narration. She eyed him warily as he swirled around her, waiting for the next time he would snap or go through a mood change or even a form change. 

As he finally stopped talking, she tried to process all that he was telling her, through her fear hazed mind. Julian had apparently been powerful once, and still was. He was a murderer, a spurner of the Heavens,Angels? She wondered, and refuses to use his power. Regret? Regardless, the fact remained. This..thing said Julian was dangerous, and a ticking time bomb. Yet...Mary's face softened a little from the fear and despair etched on it. Yet, he was holding her and protecting her from whatever was outside of her body, trying to take her away or worse. And he had protected her before now, even stopped her from taking her own life. If the thing was telling the truth about Julian's past, the man had changed. That much was apparent. She needed to ask her..'host' a question..but the very thought made her afraid of what it would cause him to do. Still.. she needed to know.

"Y-you said something was invading my body and t-transforming me? C-can you s-stop it?"

“well it WAS invading your body. But now its doing something I’m very familiar with. It's bonding with you. With your very essence, in short, it will become a part of who you are.”

He sways his body slowly to the ground, taking a more relaxed stance as he glances at Mary and cocks his eye.

“I'm quite familiar with it. Its the same thing I did with Julian and his saber. It's bound to his essence permanently, removing it would kill him. At this point in the process. The same would happen to you if I tried.”

He grimaced slightly “Seems these Demon scum aren't really good at it though. Their bonding magic is so sloppy that this thing should kill anybody it tries to bond with. Guess you're the lucky one that is adaptable to it.”

He looks down at the ground, a very vulnerable sadness and pain seem to emit from him, like a form of humanity laid dormant in him.

“I can't remove it from you. It would kill you at this point. I can only keep it at bay until Julian removes the saber from your hand. You'll be tainted with Demon filth. Another casualty I couldn't stop in time.”

He turns his head away from her, as if ashamed. His vapors flickering throughout his body.

“I'm sorry”

Mary sat stone still for a few moments. She was...bonded. With whatever the monster had put inside of her. And to get rid of it meant that she would die. There was a silver lining, she supposed. She wasn't going to die. She was going to live, provided she made it out of this nightmare realm that was slowing the process down. Mary supposed she should have felt horror, or fear, or anything really. But she was just...numb. Empty. Emotionally spent from the horrors of the last few...how long had it been? Days? Hours? Minutes? It was impossible to tell. 

Finally, she spoke. "I suppose there's nothing left to do but let me go and deal with this new presence.." She was tired, and scared, and just wanted this entire mess to be over with. And that was only going to happen through one of two ways...and she didn't want to die.

“heh” the figure responded as it its vaporous body became thicker with some sort of skin that looked as if it was baked and burned by a large fire. But before his naked body could be seen, the red dust and sand began to stick to his body and withing moments, it had formed a red cloak and hood to obscure his face. He had come full circle and was now the wreathing mass that Mary had first seen. A long, bony corpse of a hand emerges from one of the sleeves and points at her and painfully chuckles and wheezes.

“That is why Man is superior, we can bear through anything and still come out on top. We do not buckle from pain like Angels nor do we shirk from death like Demons. We accept and live with our struggles and weakness and through them. We become supreme, a perfect vision the Gods had in mind for us. A vision that will be denied no longer”

“Hold on Mary, Just for a few moments longer” the voice echoed throughout the land. He chuckled.

“My my, seems your friends finally got their act together. I won't be needed much longer. Good. For as much as I enjoyed the company of another Human, I have a meeting with a very special person”. He gritted his teeth with what seemed like both rage and joy. As if he could not tell the difference between the two.

The air around Mary suddenly became hot, almost unbearably so, as if it was painful to breathe due to the heat. That thing, high above in the sky that had been hovering and acting as an invisible oppressor to the land that this thing now controlled thoroughly. But it was still unseen and unheard. But it was certainly felt. And with a crooked and wicked laugh, with blood and tar spewing out of its unseen face and smearing the robe, it shrieked.

“The Heretic shall soon sleep amongst Gods!”

Mary shrank away from the hand pointed at her, and he began to go on a rant again. She didn't care about Man's superiority or Man's supremeness or whatever he was talking about this time! She just wanted to leave this hellhole, even if it meant she woke up in the old one. The old one, at least, was predictable. And she had allies, friends even, in there. This one...this one was a ticking time bomb waiting to explode and kill her. 

When a new voice echoed throughout the realm, she glanced around wildly, looking for the source of this new nightmare, this new fear. After all, there was nothing in this world that she could trust. Friends? That hadn't sounded like anyone she knew..well, on the bright side,she was finally leaving this place! Which of course, is when she began to be broiled alive. She was almost immediately drenched in sweat, and was almost sure that this thing was going to kill her now, done with it's game. She screamed and recoiled as blood and tar spewed outwards, and the thing shrieked once more.

She just wanted to leave.

“Become Gods! We will become Gods!” it screamed. Ignoring Mary entirely, lost in its own thoughts and madness. Mary had brought it relative peace for a few moments. But it could not resist the urge to fall to madness, despair and fury. The thing up in the sky begin to make a dull red glow, it was large...very large.

Mary's sight started to become hazy and it seemed as if the scene in front of her was ripping and tearing, as if it was a bad connection on an old TV. She was being withdrawn from this world. And it was a good thing. For only the truly resistant could withstand what was to come.

The robe began to disintegrate in the boiling heat. Revealing a figure bake red and black with horrible dead red eyes with the most horrific naked body. Burned down to the bone marrow. It rose its arms up and screamed t the sky and began stomping on the ground in an incoherent rage.

“SCAR MY BODY! BURN MY BONES. MY BEAUTIFUL CREATION! REVEAL YOURSELF TO ME! MY SUN OF SIN!”

And suddenly, the last thing Mary saw before leaving this horribly wretched world was a screaming ball of fire high in the sky, its eyes closed and its scream a loud shriek of rage and pain. Illuminating the world and spreading bright yellow fire over the ground and enveloping the figure. His body now decomposing and melting into Tar. But it didn't care, all it needed was to worship this horror high in the sky as it screamed and burned the land.

“KILLLL THEM AAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL”

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Gates of hell, a once proud behemoth seemed different; it was in disrepair, neglected, abused and left to rot to nothing in its degeneracy. And throughout its little cracks and nicks an subtle essence flowed through it. Almost entirely undetected, but one could feel it crawling like an insect throughout the great wall. Melody.

But Melody then detected something less subtle flowing through the Gate, carving little pathways in its cracks and fragments and on the other side, before melody. Blood spewed out of the cracks and into a little pool. It sits there for a moment before it a hand forms and rises out of the blood and it begins to take shape of something contorted and perverted, the blood becomes a dripping red hood that flickered and spat like a flame. A body underneath this robe was formed, with a charred, mutilated hand wiping a black tar like substance away from its gaping mouth, with only a few teeth in it. Its face was seemed to be burnt corpse that had been painted on a canvas by a truly disturbed artist. It made a low, horrid grin as it whispered its poison to the Gatekeeper.

“Does it hurt? Watching your wall crumble and your harp become undone? Does it pain you to see everything you've fought for become nothing but rubble and debris?”

Melody's finger almost slipped as the figure materialized, her hand twitching as a grimace passed over her features. In her lifetime she had seen all kinds of beings, some uglier than others, but this... This made her cringe. She pulled a string, meant to hurt a demon, then one meant for a human... and none of them worked. The creature merely flinched. 

"What are you?" She inquired, fingers still combing the Harp, the melody of the world always flowing.

“heh”

“ahah”

“ahahahaha”

“EHAHAHAHHAAHAAAHA”

The gate began to shake slightly in rhythm with its twisted laughter. But its laugh was not of pain. But one of emptiness and fury”

“I knew it! I knew it! You would forget me! You all would forget me. You and your Angelic heathen scum threw me here. And you thought that would be it! I knew it all along, you forgot my face, my form, my body. You and the Council's ineptitude has served me well.”

A red essence begins to flow out of the cracks and wrap themselves around the red robed man. He clasped his hands, as if praying.

“But I shall be forgotten no longer Melody, O Gatekeeper of Hell. Soon the Gods true vision will be enacted. And all will be fixed.”

Melody tried again to ornate her melody in pain and limits, anything to push the being away, but to no avail. She sighed, a frown still set between her brows. "You have lost your form already, pitiful being. You shouldn't exist anymore. What is it that you want? What is it that you cling to so desperately?" 

“Blame the Angels for their arrogance. They should have let nature take its course, but alas, their stupidity will be their undoing.”

The essence swirling around the being began to emit heat, and the region grew hot and stuffy. Almost as if the air around them was boiling.

“I cling to nothing except what I already know. I predicted this would come to pass. I knew the Council was no good. I knew they would manipulate Mankind. I knew they would see us as tools and nothing more. I knew THEY.WERE.HEATHEN.SCUM!”

It beats its chest and stomps on the ground, the red essence becoming violent and filled with Malice and hatred.

“They will all die Melody! Once this Gate crumbles. All Demons and Angels will form a mountain of corpses which Man will climb to reach our creators. To become united with the Gods.”

He pointed to Melody threatening, gurgling the black tar like substance as it spit and drooled all over his robe.

“And you will be the lowest thing under that mountain!” He shrieked loudly, thousand of years of rage built of and now was becoming untamed and unloved. He gnashed his few remaining teeth and they sliced and dug into his black gums as he spewed his vile hatred towards the Gatekeepers

JUST

LIKE

YOUR

LITTLE

WHORE

SISTER!

Melody didn't know what to make of the creature at first but now it was becoming more and more obvious that it was merely a crazed animal in the shape of a man. His words were slowly losing their effect until he informed her of her future status. That.. now that made a wide smile spread over her lips. If it hated her that much... then it meant she still had some control over it. 

"My little sister met a sad fate indeed. I am no fool and am well aware it's only a matter of time until I join her. However you... you seem to be stuck here, aren't you... little man." 

The being cackles and laughs painfully at her.

“Of course I'm stuck here, You let them throw me in here Melody. But that’s all ancient history, forgotten by almost everybody. But this is the perfect place to be my dear!”

The essence became calm, still filled with malice and murderous intent. But now it seemed more... precise. More deadly in its aims. A piece of the Gate falls.

“Because from here, I get to rot this barrier from the inside out. When I saw that first crack in the Gate, my essence seeped into it and the thing has almost been hollowed out. Five thousand years of work. Now comes to its fruition. What the scared Heathen scum call an apocalypse, I call salvation. These... these ancient relics shall fade into the past. And mankind will dominate the world. As it should be, as was promised to us by our creators.”

Sadness, pain and bitterness swelled up within the being's body as it looked at Melody right in her eyes. Its red glowing pupils burned with a will that could never be tamed.

“The Angels, every single one of them will die in the coming war. Not one will be spared. And the Demons too, they will all burn amidst their own flames. I will have to do nothing, they will simply kill each other when the Gate falls.”

It bends down and scoops up the sand and dirt below and slowly lets it blow along the wind. His eyes, for a moment. There is no hatred in them, just a soft, tugging pain.

“A fitting punishment, considering their crime. What they did to me. What they did to... him. What they have done to my people.”

Melody didn't say anything. Instead she just concentrated on her fingers, although she didn't really need to look at them to play the harp. It was indeed sad to see it crumble as a worthless piece of ash. The harp that had served this world for so long... But alas, everything had a beginning and everything must have an end. 

"We shall see, Judas. We shall see which one of us outlives the other." Melody whispered thoughtfully, her tone soft and deprived of malice. Hatred was something she was incapable of, because she knew that everything in this world existed for a reason... no matter how hideous it may seem. 

“Oh well aren't you so philosophical Melody” He sneered at her. Spitting in her general direction.

“I already see the future. I saw it seven thousand years ago when I knew those Dirty Angels couldn't be trusted. And look what they've done. They couldn't even keep their own homeland in check, so now they must ruin the surface. At least with a Demon, you expect it to be a reeking failure, but Angels act too proud, too arrogant and all they touch turns to ash.”

Then as if it was skin, the robe started shedding off the body of the man. As this gaunt, hollowed out sunken spirit slowly walked towards Melody. It pointed its long corpse of a finger at her.

“We are the chosen race. And no inferior prototypes shall hold back Mankind any longer. We will be dominate and we will inherit what is rightfully ours.”

Melody didn't respond at first, only smiled at the instrument in her hands, gently caressing it like a baby that would soon be lost forever. She seemed lost in her own thoughts and it was only as the creature approached her when she looked up at him with a smile, neither sad nor happy. 

"You may well be right, my child. You may well be right."

“Of course I'm right!” it shrieked, naked and deformed before her. His ranting and fragmented mind now completely lost in its own cruelty

“I was right before. But the great King of Kings wouldn't listen to me! He wanted to..to... LOVE THEM! WHEN THERE IS NOTHING TO LOVE. They are poisonous Rats with flashy white wings to distract you from the disgusting plague they carry within! And they poured their poison and honeyed words of love and friendship in his ear and he believed EVERY WORD OF IT”

He was panting hard as the essence wrapped itself around him and began to pull him back towards the cracks. In hell, high in the sky. A screaming sun raged endlessly.

“I had to stop that foolishness, that heresy!” he shrieked desperately as if trying to explain his case in a court room

“They... they. THEY TOOK MY FRIEND FROM ME!”

And before he disintegrated and slid his broken body through the cracks. He gave one last final cry not just to Melody. But to the world that had forgotten him.

MY NAME

IS

JUDAS ISCARIOT!

AND I WILL HAVE

MY.

REVENGE!

The Chimeric Lord of Chaos
Theme

Tired of hiding in the shadows, sick of waiting to strike, and driven to use this form, Szayeis walked now through Loom in that very guise. He took no time to hide his form from any who looked in his direction. He made no effort to conceal himself and so he was seen.

Angels soared down, those who were too stupid to stay away, and struck at him with their blades, their spears, and their fists.

As they neared his body their wings would seize and they would fall to the ground, where the lord's shadow would devour them, pulling their bodies into themselves and eating them whole.

He made no effort to resist them, they simply fell before him, around him, and into him.

Any humans who came too close were devoured as well.

Thus, after viewing the spectacle, the angels began to actually think, so instead of attacking the lord, they cleared his path. For if they could not stop him, then perhaps they could at least minimize the casualties caused by his presence.

Taking no mind to the pests whom skirted the edges of his body Szayeis' mind writhed with incoherent thoughts and the sounds of many voices clamoring for control.

'Give it back!'

'The body is mine!'

'Usurper, you have stolen my throne, return it!'

'Stop the pain...the fear, I just want to die. Let me die...'

'Sleep, I need to sleep.'

Some were more violent...unruly even.

'Tear them apart!'

'Weaklings, devour these inferior beings. They should not be allowed to breath the same air, share the same essence.'

'Yes, he is right, they defile this world.'

His own voice remained silent, but his will was unyielding as they pressed at him from all sides, some calling him a thief, some a usurper and a traitor. Others simply wished for their own death, while even more wished for the death of others. Szayeis? He wished only for their silence...and he got it as one much older presence roused itself within him.

His step faltering slightly, the demonic lord glanced to his side to see several tamer angels just waiting to strike as they shepherded humans away from him. As he turned to them they paused, telling the humans to continue away from the area. Then, the tamers readied themselves, expecting their readines to give them a chance.

A harsh laugh rang through their minds as they were assaulted and all six of them toppled to their knees as a crushing malice, and devouring hunger ate at them. Their minds buckled not in minutes, not in hours, but in seconds and they fell not just to their knees, but then to their stomachs, pinned to the ground as the lord turned and walked over to them, a dark smile forming itself on his formerly faceless visage.

Still, there was a great eeriness, for there were no eyes on his face so as he approached, there was no way for their breaking, shattered minds, to measure his intent. However, it was soon evident as the poor tamers entered the radius of Szayeis' body. As he approached they began to sink into his shadow, a shadow which was unnaturally large and unnaturally dark.

As if it were the abyssal void itself.

The angels continued to sink, weak moans and whimpers exuding from their throats as the shadows devoured them as they had their brothers and sister.

In response to their essence, the lord shivered once more and the shadows writhed throughout the entirety of Loom. His voice would then make itself heard throughout as his influence became unveiled and the aura his power cast revealed itself to all.

The entirety of Loom would be hit, almost by a shock wave, and enveloped by a horrifying terror, a primal fear. “I pity you all,” the lord of chaos said, its multilayered tones stretching over the entirety of the city's breadth. “I pity you for your ignorance and your weakness.” The lord then turned away and continued walking to his destination, his mind changed, and so the chimeric lord of chaos shifted purpose.

He would not seek out Hazumi, she would seek him out.

His voice rung out once more, “There is an angel within these walls, her wings dark as the night sky, with a hunger eating at her mind. She will make council with me, or I will raze that which she serves to the ground.” He then fell silent, though his mind did not, and bent his knees before erupting into the air only to land on the top of a sky scraper.

'Kill the heathens!'

'Destroy the abominations...'

'Let the pests rot in our stomach and be devoured by our might!'

'Silence,' the power of the voice shot through him and the others fell silent, leaving only Szayeis and the old one to speak within the great chimeric mind of the demonic lord.

'So you have finally realized the frailty of this world.' Its tone was one that had experienced much and lost all care for all things that existed, be they past or present.

Szayeis did not respond to it, not at first, and continued to approach the Citadel. He did not expect it to be ungaurded, but it mattered not. Seraphs and those below them were nothing to him, only the archangels stood any chance against him, but they did not face him alone.

'You fear me, do you not, demon? Otherwise you would not ignore my words, for such is unwise, child.' Szayeis twitched in response, feeling his form briefly shudder from continued exposure to the ancient presence. “I fear nothing, but fear itself...and I...am-” '...Fear.'

Again he twitched and his form writhed, but he paid it little mind as he traveled through Loom, devouring everything that stood in his path as he did so. 'No matter how much power you attain, you cannot defeat me,' the voice said after a long time of silence. Szayeis made no response, simply continuing to traverse the distance. A sigh could be heard within his mind, 'Very well, child. You need not listen, for you will know soon the fruitlessness of your intentions,' a harsh laugh emanated throughout his being and it made his body briefly dematerialize, where he splattered against the top of a building after a jump.

Cursing the old one, the lord of chaos quickly reformed and forced his ethereal form back into Origin state. He would not allow anymore of the being's intrusion. “Begone relic, you belong in the past where you came to be,” Szayeis said aloud in an attempt to reassure himself.

It was a mistake.

'I am eternal,' its voice roared in his mind, driving him to his knees as he had done to the angels. 'You are but a speck before me. Your essence is naught. Essence is naught. All is impermanent, and so shall be you...like all those before you,' gritting his teeth, the demon rose to his feet and his form shifted, the two armored horns moving to the sides of his head briefly to reveal the place where he should have had eyes.

There were none, but they soon formed.

They were not blue.

Instead what burned was a fiery white and as the eyes formed a steely determination could be seen within them as they narrowed and the lord spoke, lifting himself fully to his feet. “I will not be like those before me; I will not be like the rest.”

Quietus. Silence again reigned in his mind, for the ancient one had recoiled from the phrase, as if it were foreign. In response, the lord smiled and the eyes melted into nothingness. They were quickly replaced again by the plates, which shifted to their natural locale before Szayeis raised his arms at his sides and then thrust them down abruptly.

“Let there be chaos...let there be...” the lord smiled, “...death.”

The city erupted into activity. Demons emerged from the shadows and buildings they'd been hiding in. Humans of tainted purpose, mages and warriors both, struck out and in moment the place would become a battleground.

Yet where his pet dwelled, there was less. He would need him later, and so he would assure the vampire's survival. With this done, Szayeis moved his hand before him and pulled his shadows upwards into reality, before swiftly stepping within them.

With the next step, the Citadel rose before him and a smile spread 'cross his sightless features.

For chaos had fallen.

Caeriana said Eyes of glowing red, tears do fall,
The lord of end and beginning tall
Listen now as hell's gate splits,
Melody's sorrow, Chaos blitz,
….

Collab--Yoshu and Celaira--Saella and The Southern Lordess

Finally, the demoness of the Southern realm reached the city of Loom. Standing at its entrance, a strange wave of essence began to pull her forward. Closing her eyes, and inhaling, the lordess walked forth, letting the essence guide her. It was a familiar feeling. A safe feeling.

As she walked she heard the sounds of children crying, and small vile laughs. Ah, Humans, how pleasant they were. Eyes still closed, she continued to move, crystals forming at the edges of her white lashes. Her ivory tresses waved out from her back blown out by a small gust of wind. As they flowed back, ice danced through the air.

The demoness' pace was slow, but deliberate in its intention. She had come to the surface with a mission, and she intended to complete it.

Standing atop the crane, Saella's eyes surveyed the area, her ears listening for any sign of demon activity, and her inherent ability to sense allowing her further input, she would go to whomever she heard, her and her charges. Shifting slightly as she heard the metal creak, the angel glanced down, her wings twitching slightly and a frown playing across her dainty features as she beheld her friend and chief demon, Kenen Vax, bending small bits of the metal with his hand. "Could you please stop that, Vax?"

Her voice was pleading, despite the fact that she was totally in control of his actions, should she wish to be. In response, the Sharvalli glanced up at her briefly, his eyes visage still seeming to look at her. "Fine," he said with an aggravated sigh, letting his grip loosen on the crane's structure, his hand falling to his side. Then, shuddering, Kenen's eyes widened and he glanced to the south, seeming to stare in that direction. Following his gaze, Saella's frown deepened, but now only in confusion. "What's wrong?" she questioned, uncertain as to why he might be so directed in his focus. "This isn't good," he stated, not seeming to have even heard her, "this isn't good at all."

"What's not good?" She asked again, but he waved her off and then, for no reason apparent to her, he jumped from the crane and hurtled towards the ground, feet first. If something in that direction caused him so much worry, why would he go towards it? That was what she wondered even as she followed, opening her wings as she jumped off, only to dive bomb down and open them in one sudden movement. The harsh, but exhilirating, sensation of the wind filling her feathers escaped her as her mind was elsewhere. Quickly she slowed her descent and landed soundly behind Vax, who simply stood there, appearing frozen in place.

He was drawn to the presence that he knew Saella couldn't yet feel and he knew exactly why, the lordess had finally come looking for him.

Unfortunately, he no longer knew whether or not he wanted to be rescued....

Continuing her trek northward, Daiyrisa found a smile tugging on the corners of her mouth. She could feel tension within the essence that she was following. The small smile remained on her features... That was until she felt another essence slithering alongside that of her Warden's. An angel. An angel was either very near to one of her guardians, or it was the angel that had supposedly captured him.

A growl flittered in her throat, and her aura flared up a little, heating up the air around her. It wasn't much, but the amount of heat was enough to begin thawing the crystals that had been clinging to various parts of her skin, and hair. Steam drafted from her lips as the ice on them was vaporized by the fire laying semi-dormant inside her throat.

After a few more deliberate steps, the Little Sedusa lept up to a ledge on an apartment complex nearest her, and scaled the wall to the roof. Once atop the building, she began to leap from roof to roof, spinning as she increased her pace, even whilst her eyes were still closed. A small song began to leave her lips, a song that reverberated through the link shared by a lord and her warden.

There was a feeling in the atmosphere characteristic of her presence, the demon knew, and so in an attempt to at least prevent Saella harm, he turned to her and tried to speak. Then a haunting song filled the air and he froze, enchanted and terrified both. Saella could not understand it, but her brow furrowed and she readied herself to take off if need be. She didn't know what was coming, but whatever it was was frightening enough to freeze in place a warden-class demon...and that was saying something.

Sanguine eyes opened as she dropped from a building several blocks away from where she could feel her Warden's essence, as well as the angel's. The heat around her died down as she calmed her irritation. Froze it, more like.

Her steps were once again, slow and deliberate, and the clicking of her heels began to echo around her as she moved down one street and up another, until she finally reached the destination she had been searching for. Her eyes fell upon her Warden, at first softly, and then, they too turned ice cold.

"Well, well. If it isn't little Vaxy~! I've been looking for you." The smile on her face was calm, almost caring. But the edge to her voice could draw blood.

Suddenly twitching and then shuddering, the demon, Kenen Vax, turned to face the lordess of the Southern Realm...his lordess. He took in a deep breath and released it before he responded, "Have you been, mistress? My most sincere apologies," his voice shook ever so slightly as he said it, something Saella had never heard in Kenen Vax.... Something that she knew went by the name of 'fear'. Looking to the woman and then to Kenen, Saella whispered into his mind, "Who is she?" His answer was just as simple as her question, "Lordess of the Southern Realm, Daiyrisa. A demonic Lord."

The angel froze as well, her eyes widening in shock before she got ahold of herself and managed to feign confusion rather quickly. It all flashed over her features in a mere second or two. Hopefully the Sedusa wouldn't notice...she sincerely hoped that she wouldn't.

The Little Sedusa's head tilted to the side, as she watched her Warden speak, studying him. And then her eyes found the angel, and a glimmer of humor danced in the bloody pools that gave her sight. "Friend of yours, Vax?" The demoness' voice purred as she--for once--called him by what he actually went by.

Calmly, and with a lazy, but purposeful slowness, Daiyrisa slid her arms beneath her chest, resting them folded against the upper part of her torso.

Another gust of wind picked up her white locks, and with it carried the glimmer of ice.

For the eye of the storm was always the safest place to be.

As he heard Daiy say his name properly he staggered back a step and all emotion drained from his features. She never called him that...unless she was extremely unhappy, or had some terrible idea in her sadistic little head. "More of an...acquaintance I must say," he replied, the emotion having already filtered back in properly. Saella wasn't sure what to do and so she ended up just standing there, ready, but unsure of the situation's status. She didn't know this demon and there wasn't much known about her to begin with, she just knew that the lordess was dangerous, like any demonic lord would be.

Knew that this was a fight for her survival, if it could be considered a fight at all. This was of course assuming that one broke out, which she sincerely hoped did not occur.

Watching Kenen stagger backward caused a warm, yet cheshire grin to pass her lips. And then, she moved towards him. Her steps were soft, set, determined, as she made her way to her Warden. "An... Acquaintance, you say? I wasn't aware of you knowing anyone on the surface, my dear. Let alone, an angel."

Her hand outstretched to him, but as soon as the "tender," gesture was shown, her arm wrapped loosely around his throat--provided he didn't move out of her reach--and her cheshire grin morphed to that of a worried little girl. "Vaxy, you seem troubled. What's wrong?"

Upon contact with her body, Kenen's entire body shuddered, as if a wave of cold had passed through him. In a sense that was the case, as Daiyrisa's essence felt different depending on her mood, and she wasn't all too pleased at the moment. "Do I?" He asked rhetorically, answering her question with one of his own even as he ignored the implied one prior. As she closed the distance, he did not turn away, for he knew how dangerous she was and he knew that had they fought he wouldn't win. Thus he made no effort to reist even when her arm moved around his throat, gentle, but obviously threatening.

Saella on the other hand had made a point to focus her mental energies into the crystal prison, readying herself to cal forth her remaining allies, be they willing or not, to assist and defend her if need be. There was a wary look on her face, cautious. Still, in her eyes dwelled a small amount of worry...and fear, but oddly not for her own wellbeing. She was worried about Vax, she had come to appreciate his company, even if he as snide and sarcastic a good amount of the time.

Daiyrisa simply watched Kenen at first, the worried expression flittering to a soft and compassionate grin. The ice that clung to her silhouette drifted around him lazily in the air as her breath nipped at his ear, a soft giggle falling from her lips.

"Does she know?" The purred whisper dropped from her lips as her eyes travelled to the female angel's face, the worry in her eyes prevelant. "Who you are. Does she know that part of you will forever belong to me if I choose to allow such?"

The demoness paused in her tirade of questions and lifted her mouth from his ear to his temple. Her pale and lightly frosted lips pressed against what--on a human body--would be his forehead. As her lips fell away she smiled, a full-toothed smile at her Warden, her scarlet eyes meeting his for a moment, only to leave him again for the female angel just beyond her reach.

"May I ask what kind of angel you are, darling?" She cooed out, her grip only slightly tightening around Kenen's neck, not enough to hurt him, but enough to draw her mouth back to his ear.

"Or, would you like to tell me what's really going on."

It looked difficult, Saella had to grudgingly admit, for Kenen to keep his composure as the demoness teased him, she had to applaud him for his composure. However, there was nothing else positive about the situation and this caused a worried, sympathetic, frown to cross her features and remain there. Opening her mouth to explain she suddenly felt a shock run up her spine as Kenen sent the sensation saying more or less that she shouldn't. Any information that the demoness had would be swiftly used against them both, and he at least wanted Saella to survive this encounter, even if he didn't. "She's a tamer," Kenen said as he inhaled slowly, only to exhale, his breathing sounding quite stressed as he did so.

She could feel the anxiety trailing through their bond, a bond that was both mental and spiritual. He was bound by the crystal prison's magic...magic that even a demonic lord would have much difficulty trifling with. "He's right, I am a tamer..." Saella said for confirmation, her voice slightly tremulous. Kenen said nothing for a few moments before he felt the other bond, the one that linked him to Daiyrisa, tug slightly, as if at his attention. His entire body shivered from head to toe.

"Her and her damned brother...captured me," there was irritation and disappointment in his tone...honest dissappointment, but not in others, but in himself. "I did not expect it and I was merely here to retrieve someone. I am sorry to have failed you milady." Kenen bowed his head, something the angel had never seen him do, the shame clearly ridden on his features despite his lack of eyes. Saella on the other hand wanted to say something as her kind heart reached to him, wished to console him, but she could not. Her kind forbade it and the situation would not allow. It of course did not help that she herself had been the cause of his misfortune.

It was all rather bleak really, though she did not truly know just how bleak it all was.

At the mention of the classification of angel the female went by, Daiyrisa, the Lordess of the Southern realm's peaceful facade cracked. There was a deep sadness that took over her features, and the ice around she and Kenen thickened a little, the chill of the air reaching out to the angel as well.

For a moment her eyes were on the angel, and then they found her Warden as he started to explain what had happened. The sadness in her eyes and on her face increased as she listened, and her head lowered until her forehead was resting against his. "Kenen..." There was a shimmering in her eyes as she spoke his name, however, all it was able to do was freeze at the edge of her eyes.

Her head lowered more, her hair shielding her eyes as inaudible words to anyone but Kenen left her seemingly unmoving lips. "Please, forgive me?" With the words followed something that she rarely ever did, unless it was absolutely necessary to learn something.

She kissed him.

And in so doing, invaded his very essence, reading all that she could muster to determine the strength of the magic placed upon him.

Unfortunately, the magic placed there by the prison in which he was held captive was too difficult to break without killing the angel. Under any other circumstances she would have had no issue in doing so, but she did not come to the surface to be the harbinger of a war, nor to bring a death sentence upon her own head.

And so, without ever pulling her mouth from his, her free hand slid swiftly to his chest, phasing through it. Once beneath his flesh, the demoness gripped something tightly, a shudder ripping through her entire being as she tore it free.

Likely going unnoticed by the two were the crystaline tears that slid down her cheeks, unable to freeze completely, but unable to be completely liquid either.

Solemnly, she whispered to him as she released her hold on him, "I cannot free you from her, and so must free you from myself instead."

He could feel the sadness flowing from her.... He had not expected it, he had expected anger, violence even, but sadness he was not pepared for. His chest tightened up even before her hand slipped down it and her lips touched his. His body seemed to resonate as she pulled him to her and their lips touched, the kiss sending a shock through their bond and thus through his body. It was in that moment that he truly came to understand why she was called the Sedusa and it was the next moment of intense agony, and then loss, that made him hate himself for the moment prior. As she drew away, he stood in shock, his body unable to quite process what she had just done, and then he crumpled to his knees, his strange senses still picking up the entirety of his surroundins in painful clarity.

She was crying.

If he had had tears, he might have been crying too, for he realized that she may have actually cared for him. However, that was hardly the first thing on his mind.

What took precedence was the pain, the horrible soul wrenching pain that wracked. It was deep and unavoidable, but he could not make even a single sound in response.

He couldn't move and he couldn't even hear anything beside the few words she uttered.

Saella on the other hand watched in stark horror and as the woman drew away from Vax, her mouth opened in disbelief. What had she done?! What was their connection, what was going on?!

She couldn't let anything further happen to Vax, she wouldn't allow it. Thus she moved her hand to the necklace, the key to the crystal prison which only her line was able to utilize, and drew from it those demons which she could control properly. However, as she tried to summon the three she could control the influence of the lordess hit her like a tidal wave, causing her to stumble back and grip her necklace tightly. Her wings moved around her body protectively, the feathers angling oddly and hardening slightly. She had learned the trick from her brother, the issue was that it temporarily disabled her ability to fly, while giving her a natural defense. Then, mustering all of her courage and mental fortitude she managed to speak the name of one of her demons. "Ahr'drana," she said in a husky whisper, her voice barely making it to the lordess.

In response a humanoid demon with a long sunous shark tail, no eyes, and razor sharp teeth materialized from a symbol that briefly appeared on the ground before vanishing entirely. The demon was of the Kaelvic race, and she hated Saella fiercely. "Bitch, how dare you summon me agai-..." her voice cut off as she realized whom stood just a few yards away. "I won't fight her, that's suicide. Are you insane, bitch?" In response, Saella shuddered and, for once, imposed her will over the demon's forcing her fear down, and pulling willingness deep from her psyche to instil temporary loyalty, something she hated doing.

"Protect him," she gestured shakily to Kenen. The Kaelvic merely nodded and ran in that direction, the mouth running down her abdomen diagonally opening and then shutting, causing her to pull herself before the former warden in a single movement. However, Saella underestimated the demon's fortitude and so, as she arrived there, she bowed her head slightly and forced her will to subtly allow freedom of speech. "F-forgive me, your lordship, I have no control...she is stronger than she looks."

Saella made no move to quell the outburst, the terror that suffused her body not allowing the angel the entirety of her rational abilities. Still, even as she felt so helpless, she managed to at least put something between the demoness and her friend...if he would remain as such after what she had caused him.

Daiyrisa held a glowing object tightly to her chest in one hand, staring destitutely down at her former warden. She was only able to repeat the same phrase over and over again, "I'm sorry, Kenen. I wish I could have saved you instead of myself."

Her voice was again, barely audible, and even still was cracking from the pain she was holding in from hurting one of her Wardens. One of the few beings she trusted with her true intentions. One of the few beings she only seldom chose to hide from.

Just as she was about to turn away, to leave so as to not have to look at Kenen's pained expression anymore, the damned tamer summoned something.

Daiyrisa only had time to look up before it was right in front of her, to which she simply closed her eyes and sighed. She felt genuinely bad for these demons. They didn't deserve this, but there was nothing she could do about it. So, instead she simply whispered, "It is fine, Kaelvic, I bear you no ill will. I will try not to kill you this time."

After speaking a surprising amount of rage flooded out of her body, sending a heatwave outward from her in a radius of about a block in all directions. She looked past both the demons in front of her and made contact with the ground-loving angel. "Little one, if it were not for you, I wouldn't have just hurt him in such a deep way. So, kindly go fuck yourself."

Her mouth opened to respond, but her nerves closed it shut just as soon. The Kaelvic swallowed hard, feeling quite lucky that she was immune to heat-based attacks in that particular moment. Saella's hardened wings were doing her little good and so her feathers softened and she spread them wide, trying to straighten her posture. While she could not muster enough courage to speak, there was a determined look in her eyes, a look that was coupled with the tears that also flowed down her cheeks. She hadn't wanted anyone to get hurt...especially not Kenen.

She didn't even want Ahr'drana to come to harm, even though the demon plainly hated her. The only one that stood within her sight who she wanted gone, was this woman, but she would die if she tried...and that was even worse. She could not, above all things, allow a demon, any demon, to get ahold of the crystal prison. It held too many dangerous entities, that was for sure.

Yet, while she struggled simply to stand her ground, another developement had began. A seething rage built in the pounding chest of the former warden, a rage that gifted him only more pain as it shocked through him and began to seep through the cracks of his tremulous control.

The pain was too much, and oddly he did not want either of them to be hurt, though he hoped that his lordess would live more than he did Saella. Making this decision he began to release his hold on the power and as he did the city fell into shadow and a madenning wave of essence roiled through his mind.

His ability to resist vanished and his control over his Sharvallian ability was lost. Ruin spread throughout. The ground began to decay, buildings creaked and bent under their own weight, and the very air seemed to thin as the Sharvalli's power became unhinged. Finally an ear splitting scream, almost a roar, erupted from the demon's throat causing both the demon and angel to cover their ears and crumple to the ground in sheer agony. Daiyrisa would be unaffected, at least on a physical level. For while she had taken from him his bond, he would never hurt her, not even in a state of uncontrollable rage and madness.

Saella, now on her knees, hands trying to block out the terrible, shrill, cries, tried to regain control of the warden. Alas, she could not, for while he remained bonded to the prison and her sway over him persisted, she could not manipulate him whilst in the hold of chaos and the presence of the lordess. He was unbound...and so was Ahr'drana.

The Kaelvic, realizing her freedom, turned on the angel, shielding the holes that were her ears with small flaps of flesh, and chargin at the angel. "You will die you insufferable bitch! You will perish like all the other pitiful birds that stood against me. Join your kin in death, join them in my essen-..." the angel could only watch as massive chunks of debris suddenly flew from the surrounding buildings and slammed into the demon, crushing her alive.

The Sharvalli had risen to his feet, standing, though slightly hunched over, with his palm aimed in the deceased demons direction. "Kher thresh varthrana," the maddened demon iterated as the shrill cry decreased in volume. Kenen then seemed to turn his attention on Daiy, his mouth opening to release a cry louder still. It was one filled of rage and sadness both. Saella covered her ears once more, draping her wings around her body and trying to block the sound out.

To no avail, for it thrummed not simply through the ears, but through the body and the mind, permeating her essence and shattering her fortitude. It was an ability of Vax's that she had never seen for he had never had reason to use it. It made her wonder just how well she really knew the demon....

Daiyrisa watched her former Warden as his agony heightened, and she felt the chaos wrapping around the city. Szayeis. What was wrong with him?

Her mind almost wandered to him until she felt the ground beneath her feet shaking, and beginning to crumble. She stared at Kenen as he rose from his positon on the ground, and the Kaelvic moved to attack the angel.

She wasn't frozen for any particular reason, other than wonder. It'd been a really long time since she'd seen him use such a power, and longer still since she'd seen him fight at all.

A sigh fell from her lips when he shrieked in her direction. Her eyes grazed over his face calmly as he screamed, and she smiled softly, whispering into the soundwave as she gripped the glowing object gently, but tighter.

"Hopefully, one day I may be able to return this to you, my precious Warden."

And with that, fire erupted in a line across the ground, shooting up about 10 feet and separating her from the angel and Kenen.

"Until then, I have chaos to seek out." She called over her shoulder as she shot down the street, propelling herself forward with ice.

His voice would likely haunt her even as she departed, for in it there was a message only she could hear, words hidden by the frequencies that did not effect her. We will not be parted long, was what her mind would tell her soon after departure. Not surprisingly her disappearing from the area caused a reaction in Vax, causing him, and his terrifying power, to slowly cool down before ceasing entirely as he again fell to the ground, this time unconscious and spent. Chaos was indeed powerful, but physical exhaustion had won the futile struggle for physical control. Seeing this and finally hearing the sound cease, Saella tentatively rose to her feet, recalling Ahr'drana, who was severely maimed...but would heal, as she treaded her way carefully over unsteady ground to the side of what had been her friend.

She didn't know anymore. Maybe death was a kinder way to deal with demons. She didn't want to believe that and so, gently, she sat his head on her lap, feeling useless. However a moment of peace was not allowed her and the sleeping demon for the forces of chaos emerged and converged on the angel.

Narrowing her eyes, Saella then closed them completely and by focusing the entirety of her will she created a mental barrier. The demons approached, but as they reached a certain point their purpose would be scrambled as they quickly forgot her existence and turned to attack other angels and humans nearby. It was effective, but in case it was not she summoned another demon, this time it was a construct, Bladebug it was called. If any broke through the radius, they would be taken out.

With that taken care of she sat there, his head laid gently on her lap and her wings cradling his body, she began to sing lowly even as tears trickled down her cheeks. She had hurt him dearly and she knew not what to do. So as the world seemed to crumble around her, she focused only on him, finding now that she had come to care for him more than she had realized.

Funny how one only noticed what mattered when it was stolen from them. Even if only in part.

Amidst the order and chaos of every endeavor, where the common sociopaths accomplished deeds chosen by the same method that suited their favorite tastes, there existed a scattered remnant across the Three Worlds. Chained by that which sought fate itself, they conspired as well to achieve certain ends to their salvation's plan. It had been known intimately that their lord had been shattered and his return long desired, and even now after several millenniums, his return was nigh. His own creation had even entered the world through the secret plane to reclaim the lost ones.

Gathered together by a force beyond their current understanding on the roof of the Elemani Corporation Consolidation, many were eager for their lord's first foot step among them on the Surface. And while a few details have been excluded from this report, from which much anger had risen, nothing prepared them for the truth of that gathering.

They had vanished, without a word. Without a sound, save for the wind that brushed against the rooftop where their feet had been. Nothing left behind, everything taken, even they who had stood among them in secret between the bending light and delved shadows.

Opening their eyes, seeing home for the first time (and a few who remember it well from long ago), the order and the chaos ceased. There was nothing, yet everything: their world was full, but empty. Incredibly large, yet impossibly small. All governed by laws unknown to them. It was beauty incarnate, and yet as ugly as the most alien notion.

They saw him, his back turned and arms at his side. The power that emanated from him licked their throats and tugged on their hands. It was the very life-giving force that their Iotan nature needed. Something had changed in their home, for they were not connected to their lord anymore: separated, yet right at his feet. Then, all at once and together, they fell to their knees. Together, they gasped for air that was not there. Together, they screamed, mouths agape, death upon them.

All except a single man who stood behind everyone. Only a few among his brethren knew him, and his betrayal to their lord. Yet there he was, within the secret world of the secret plane.

With the very same rictus grin and complacent demeanor he had when he was exiled.

As Mary opened her eyes anew, she was greeted by a desolate world. She stood out in a grey wasteland with the view of a destroyed city in the distance. The black clouds above didn't help with the depressing scenery of the end of the world. Smoke billowed from the buildings in the distance, adding and mixing in with the clouds above. And the world was cold, really cold. But there was no wind, not even a small breeze. It was strangely eerie and silent.

A deep and hoarse voice called out to her. "You're not in an really good spot are you?"

Mary didn't open her eyes for a long time. She could tell by the cold around her that she wasn't back in the apartment. The last glimpse of madness she had gotten was stilled burned into her mind and she couldn't get it out. When the voice broke the silence she reluctantly opened her eyes, forcing herself to realize that she was probably never going back to the apartment and was just in a new hell. What she saw drew a low moan of despair out of her. Desolation and despair. That's all that was around her. "What do you want?" She said, miserably. She didn't even turn around to look for the source of the voice. What was the point? It was just going to be another monster, scaring her past the point of her known limits of terror. Glancing down, she noticed there was a silver lining. Apparently, pissing yourself in one hell didn't stretch over to the other. It wasn't what she wanted like, waking up in the apartment, but it was something, right?

"The sword already filled you in with what was happening to your body, so I will keep this short." The ground beneath Mary's feet trembled and clouds got darker. "Your body has already bonded with the foreign presence. That cannot be reversed. But the soul of the presence can be imprisoned. Either within your mind, or within the gem it came from..." The landscape was slowly getting darker. "Your time is short. It is slowly consuming you. Make your choice..."

Great. So, she could either imprison it in her mind and risk whatever consequences come with that, or imprison it in a gem and risk having that gem broken or stolen and used against her, releasing whatever the hell was invading her body. Not only that, she was being slowly consumed by it. First she was kidnapped, then her parents were killed, then she was stopped before she could end this mess of a life, then the killers of her parents came and eventually shoved something presumably demonic into her body and soul, and now....Mary slumped to the ground in a sitting position. "I just want to go home." She muttered through her tears. "Fine...imprison it within my mind I guess...at least I'll always know where it is then..." She gave a more than slightly hysterical laugh.

"Then so be it..." Thunder broke out in the skies above, and a black, thick rain began to fall. But it didn't even have a chance to hit the ground or Mary's head as the land around her changed. It was moving below her feet, or something was pulling her away, away towards the city.

"Wait, where are you taking me? Where am I going? What's going on!" Mary's voice was filled with panic as she began to be dragged away towards the city. Surely whatever the hell the voice wanted to do to her didn't require that she be taken to the city? Or was it so that they could meet face to face? Mary began to struggle against whatever was pulling her. She had enough horrors for one day.

Eventually she reached the city. The buildings seemed to blur by her at a hundred miles an hour, but she felt no wind, no force pushing against her, her insides weren't being pushed back by the momentum, that feeling of velocity was non existent. She would notice that each building was leaking a black tar out of their windows and doors. They seemed strangely familiar, like she has seen them before.

Soon they stopped in front of a building, a large establishement that leaked the same fluids. It's entrance doors were closed.

Mary stared at the the buildings all around her that leaked tar, and shuddered. "I'm not going in there. Do what you want out here, but I am not going in there!" She announced to the world at large, hoping the voice was listening, and that it didn't notice how much her voice shook in terror. It had appeared to be listening all the other times. Somehow, she doubted it would do what she wanted. But hey. It would be a nice change.

"This is what your mind has become. This is your world. The creature has spread it's infestation not only through your body, but also through your Dream Realm. It is something you must witness, something you must remember. For it is what shall remain in your dreams forever..." The doors of the building slammed open and Mary could see inside. It was a corridor filled with lockers. It seemed that this place was some sort of school.

The mysterious force appeared again and pulled her into the building. She passed by open lockers, which too, dripped with the same ooze. The walls were covered in the black tar. Then she passed by doors to classrooms. Some of them were collapsed, others locked, but most were open. Within them was the same think liquid dripping down the walls.

And once again, Mary felt this sense of familiarity, like she has been is this forsaken place before...

Mary struggled to resist whatever was dragging her into the...wait a minute. If she looked past the tar and the general corruption in this place, she could see familiar things, giving validation to the random sense she attributed to whatever was inside of her body. There, that was her friend Jane's locker! With the little poems all written over on the inside. And there was her own locker! "Why am I in my college?" She asked incredulously, voice several octaves higher due to the growing panic.

"This is the memory in which the infestation has taken residence." The voice replied. Mary was then pulled towards the southern part of the college, towards the gymnasium. When she arrived, a blue light glowed through the crack beneath the closed double doors. The ooze was also the most excessive here. Muffled noises could be heard within, specifically of some kind of struggle, and something splashing around.

Mary whimpered as she was taken towards the gymnasium, a blue light glowing through the ooze and the crack beneath the doors. She shook her head, trying to pull away from the door. If the voice wanted her to see what was behind the door, it'd have to force her in. There was no way she was willingly entering the gym, not now, not ever.

The doors slammed open and the invisible force pushed her into the massive room. The gym was far bigger than Mary perhaps remembered, a lot bigger. The room was completely covered in the tar, and strangely empty, there was virtually no clean spot anywhere to be seen, and no equipment either. In the center of the gym, stood a man dressed in black with his back to Mary, he was standing in a horse riding stance with his hands outstretched towards a huge black orb, blue arcs of energy streamed from his hands towards it. The orb malformed, twisted and changed shape, as if it was desperately struggling, fighting for it's life against this man.

On closer inspection, the orb was made of the same tar, with a screaming face that cringed and opened it's mouth to shout in pain but the sound never came. Suddenly the orb burst, a black shockwave almost blew the man off his feet and made him slip on the ooze on ground. He dropped on one knee, but continued his fight against... whatever that thing was.

"Behold." Said the voice, which was clearer than before. And now Mary knew it's source, it was the man before her. "That is the thing that will live in your mind from now on." The doors she entered through only moments ago slammed shut behind her, and strange circles and seals appeared on the door, and the rest of the other entrances to the gym.

Before Mary could even formulate a response, the blackness the man was battling against formed itself into a mockery of human form, long limbed and twisted. It spoke, it's voice roaring throughout the gym, the world that was Mary's Dreams. "I...am...the...ABYSS! I will not be sealed away by you!" It laughed, rough and malicious, echoing throughout the world. "I can taste your soul! And it will be mine." Black tendrils began cutting their way through the ooze, trying to wrap around the man and drag him towards it. "Surrender, human. Your time has come."

Mary for her part, had backed away as far as the strange runes and seals would allow terror coursing through her body. She wanted to back out, to change her mind. Too late, she knew. So she could do nothing but retreat, and feel the tears coursing down her cheeks as she sobbed silently, watching the struggle before her. Whoever this man was, she was sure she had doomed him to death just for helping her.

The tendrils that came for the man suddenly compressed, became crushed by the same force that brought Mary to this very room. "Abyss... now I know you're name..." The humanoid mockery that the Abyss became was crushed back into an orb again. It's horrifying face reemerging along the everchanging sphere. "A failure, just like your creator... Such a shame to waste such a thing, but no matter. Your dying days will be spent here, in your own hell." The orb continued to struggle but was compressed even further, down from the size of a trailer to the size of small car.

The Abyss hissed in rage at the man. "You will regret this human. I will be free once more...and you will pay!" A very familiar, very large, horned shape appeared in the blob next to the Abyss. "Already, I FEAST!" The face disappeared, and the orb began to writhe and twist as if some struggle was going on inside. A wolf's howl of agony could be heard, then the orb was still.

It was then when a large shape appeared next to Mary, seemingly out of nowhere. A corner of a black cube covered in script. Then another corner appeared, and another. All until the corners surrounded the sphere and hovered around it. Slowly they began to close shut, the painstaking moments as the black box closed stretched from seconds to seemingly hours in Mary's mind as she watched.

Then the cube clanged closed, it's openings infused with the solid material, leaving no visible ways of ever opening it again.

The man relaxed. The chaos, the struggle, had ended. "There." He said. "Sealed away forever." He did not turn around to face the silently sobbing girl as he spoke. "Your life will never be the same..." He said with resounding regret. "I'm so sorry."

It took a few more minutes for Mary to regain the composure to speak. She sank to the ground, heedless of the ooze and simply hugged her knees, rocking back and forth, staring at the black cube sealing away the nightmare that was inside of her head. How had she ever gotten into this mess? What had she done to attract the attention of these..these monsters? All she had been doing was heading home after a day of school and suddenly she was kidnapped and taken to a warehouse and then thrown into a nightmare of hellish proportions. When she finally felt sure enough of herself to speak, she did, haltingly. "It's not your fault. My life was changed when they killed my parents just to get me." She sounded hollow, spent. "Please. Just let me wake up...don't make me go through another hell..." She broke down again, her sobs echoing through the silent chamber.

"I wasn't apologizing to you..." Said the man coldly. "I was apologizing to the Abyss, for the hell he is about to be faced with..." The man muttered a few words and the script on the cube began to glow. Shrill muffled screaming began within the box. Mary's prisoner now faced an unimaginable horror, and would continue to do so until the very day Mary died.

"Now it's time for you to wake up..." The man clicked his fingers, and Mary's vision began to blur into blackness. The nightmare was finally ending.

Mary didn't understand why the man was feeling sorry for the monster inside of her head, nor did she try. She just choked out a broken "Thank you.." Before the blackness claimed her once more.

---

As she regained conscioussness, and the bonding completed, whatever wounds that hadn't been healed by Mairyell's magic regenerated. Bones snapped into place, flesh knitted itself together. All in all, when she woke up, she felt like shit. She let out a low groan of pain before opening her eyes and looking around. No nightmarish hell yet. Seemed to be the roof of the apartment, if a bit more..ruined than she remembered. Warily, she sat up, looking around. Searching for that one image or monster that proved the man had lied to her. That this wasn't the apartment, just a trick. Luckily for all involved, she saw Julian first. Relief flooded through her and she lost all control again. Sobbing, she practically threw herself at him, burying her face in his shoulder, and hugged him tightly. It was over. Finally, over.

Julian sees her eyes open and he sighed in ease. He jumps for a moment as Mary leaps up and wraps her arms around him, crying. Surprised and startled for a few moments. Julian wraps his arms around her protectively and kisses her forehead.

“Shh, it's alright Mary” he whispered softly. Happily ignoring whatever that sword was trying to implant in his mind. All he wanted to focus on was Mary's safety. He promised himself he would never give her that sword again, or anyone for that matter. It was his to bear.

“You're safe, alright.”

Having moved his hands away from her before she had awoken, Mairyell now stood, watching her reactions as she came back to life, almost literally, and lunged into Julian's arms. For the first time in the last hour or so, a small smile played across his face. The man had been wrong, they had won. He had won. "Damn right she is," the vampire said aload, the blood armor fully absorbing back into his body, causing him to shudder slightly and cringe before the red in his eyes actually faded somewhat, turning to a purple coloration. Balance was restored...for now.

Glancing at her, Mairyell knew that her trial wasn't over, but at least she had gotten around one of its many obstacles. Sighing he turned to Solus and spoke, "Will it last?" Ever the pessimist, Mairyell asked the question no one likely wanted to consider, almost as if he had no tact. Oh well, at least he got down to business, afterall it'd be all pointless if she died in a few weeks after all this trouble over her. Wouldn't that be a nice surprise.

Solus was leaning his back on a wall, looking very intently at his fingernails and picking out the germs from underneath them. He quickly glanced at Mairyell and then back at his fingers, flicking them a bit. "Until she dies." it was very blunt and to the point. "But she has other problems, look into her eyes..."

Sighing, Mairyell nodded and then a slight frown crossed his features, and he raised an eyebrow, glancing at the phone. "What ever happened to your rambling, Mr. Desperate," the vampire stated, a slight smile reforming on his lips as he taunted Sir, who of course hadn't yet hung up, he would have heard that. In the mean time, he glanced at Mary and walked a bit further from Solus, getting a different angle on her. It was in that moment that his heart dropped. Her eyes were still pitch black.

She was cursed just like he had been. Well, not quite, but it was similar. She'd been unwillingly turned into...something. What even was she now? Closing his eyes and sighing, he glanced at Solus briefly and then at the phone, expecting it to explode with some form of ridicule or the like any moment in the near future. After all, the alleged mastermind of this whole fiasco was quite the chatterbox it seemed.

The Phone, silent for so long, suddenly crackled into life. "It worked! It worked, it worked, it worked! Call me desparate but it worked!" Sir crowed in victory. "She nearly died because of some people, but it worked! I can't-" Sir suddenly fell silent. "Wait...what is-No. No...NO!" The Demon suddenly let loose a long string of cursing. "Something's wrong. Very, very wrong. Solus, demon hunter deary, you need to listen to me very carefully. You don't trust me, and I don't blame you. But, you need to trust me on this part. The girl must die. You have to kill her. The Abyss is doing far more than it should, and if she's walking around anywhere near the War..." Sir shuddered. Obviously, whatever was wrong with the Abyss scared him. "Just...kill the girl. And the Abyss. Especially the Abyss. And, seeing as you've sealed the Abyss away, I suppose killing the girl is the only way. You, sword boy. Just a quick stab. It'll even be painless if you know what you're doing. The needs of the many, after all. And trust me many, many, many people would die if she isn't killed. So...no time like the present, eh?"

Mary didn't know what was going on. She wasn't letting go of Julian, not yet anyways. But when Mairyell looked into her eyes, she knew something was wrong. Before she could ask what, though, a new voice began chattering excitedly, and then almost immediately switching to wanting her dead. Mary let out a small whimper, and clutched tighter to Julian. Not again. Not again...

Solus walked over and grabbed the phone and said. "Well, ain't that a quick change of tone. Why don't you just give up. Hmm? I'm sure you have better things to do than sit there and waste not only my time, but everybody else's. And let me tell you, I don't like my time being wasted, by pathetic little shits like you. Good bye." Solus then proceeded to press the red button on the phone, and throw it out of the window.

"If he materializes another fucking phone in my pocket I swear to Aaurus that I'm going to cast that immortality spell and hunt down his ass all the way to the very ends of the Three Worlds..." The Necromaster mumbled to himself.

"That was materialized?" Mairyell asked in a mostly rhetorical tone as he watched it soar out the window. As the thought clicked into place, his smile broadened, "then there's no need for you to hunt him. I can track him down with even the tiniest amount of his scent. Blood or essence would do it, even the smell of magic used by him and applied to someone else would be enough." He then glanced at Solus, grinning, "D'ya got any of the above?"

Julian held Mary tighter when the voice out of the cellphone spoke out. His nostrils flared as his rage built up against the desperate Demon. Then the unknown man cooly threw it out the window. He let out a soft chuckle before running his hands through Mary's hair. He listened to Mairyell's words and let out a tired response

“Can we do all of this a little bit later? I think rest would be a good option at this time.”

Hearing Julian, the vampire shrugged and looked over to him. "I suppose so, as long as I have his scent he can't run or hide from me. Granted, I would've hunted him myself if necessary, in fact I'd rather you stay with her," he gestured towards Mary by nodding his head. He then turned away, glancing to Solus in wait for his answer. He didn't elaborate on why exactly he rather not be left alone with Mary, but it had to do with trust issues.

Self trust issues.

"That phone is... Or was if it hasn't disappeared yet, the closest thing to his scent. You better hurry and get it before it does vanish into thin air..." Solus replied dryly. He turned his head to Julian, and said. "The girl's body has bonded. We'll have to test her limits in the morning to see what's changed. It's best if she rests up now but I doubt she will have a restful night."

"No need," the vampire shrugged, "I was merely asking for confirmation really, now that I know that that was his scent, I've no need to smell it again. All essence is distinctive in my experience." Mairyell then glanced at Julian and Mary. Since he was at an angle that she could see him, he smiled warmly and spoke once more "and don't worry about your safety. You've got three people here who are quite willing to shoo away anyone who might try anything, if anyone is still so foolish." At that, he smiled and turned away, walking out the door and waving a bit. "I'll be outside, the fresh air's kinda nice. Oh, by the way, pick another room, that one's kinda trashed." He was right, there was a hole in both the floor and the wall, which made it kind of comical that he'd said he needed fresh air, after all there was plenty flowing directly into the room.

Mary drew a shuddering breath, smiling in response to Mairyell's reassurance. He had quite quickly changed moods in the last...hour or three. Which, frankly, was a relief. The torn muscle fibers threat was still prominent in her mind, even if it had paled in comparison to the threats that had recently surfaced. She didn't know idea who the third man was, but Mairyell obviously trusted him and he hadn't tried to kill her or kidnap her yet, so she wasn't worried. Realizing she was still clinging to Julian she withdrew from the hug and blushed slightly. "Sorry about that.." She muttered, glancing around the room that was, as Mairyell had said, trashed. Too put it mildly. "What happened? All I remember is pain..and then blackness.." She left the rest unsaid, and would rather not remember the hell of the sword or the Abyss, not yet. Preferably not ever.

“Our little werewolf friend bonded your body with some object of his. You were blacking out and it was taking over your body.” he said, scratching his beard. He looks down at Mary and smiled slightly. He honestly didn't mind the Black eyes. Why would he? He had seen... and become far worse things.

Looking down in shame.
“In order to halt the transformation, I had to do something drastic.” he looks down at the Saber sheathed safely by his side. Not daring to touch it until it had calmed down. He looks at Mary, guilt radiated on his face.

“I fully realize what I was doing, and what you probably saw. I'm--- I'm sorry. I didn't know what else to do.” He said almost pathetically.

Mary was silent for a while. She wanted to say it was okay, that she forgave him for it. But it wasn't, and she didn't. He had knowingly and willingly put her through that, in what she assumed was this world's equivalent of tossing someone learning to swim into the ocean and saying 'swim or die'. But she couldn't be angry at him for it either. The thing, horrible as it was, had said that he felt protective of her. That he cared about her. That had been displayed before now, in his caring for her after convincing her not to end it all. So, she didn't say 'it's okay. I forgive you' and she didn't yell at him either. What she did was give a weak smile, and say, "At least I'm alive. That's something, isn't it? Though, how the hell I got into this world is a question that will plague me for the rest of my life. Assuming it's long enough for me to even consider the question." She had to face reality. Even with three people protecting her, she wasn't suited for this world. She was a liability, at best. Actively working against them at worst.

Julian sighed and folded his arms. His messy hair laid messily over his eyes, tangling themselves and created chaos all over his head. But beneath all that were eyes that no longer were cold blank stares trying to block off the world and shun everyone that came before him.To block off his immense guilt to the world. They were... human and had a softer touch to them. But they seemed weary and tired with small wrinkles beginning to form.

“Everything happens for a reason Mary, whether that reason be good or bad is another story. But you are alive and for now. Safe. And in the end, that is all that matters.”

Sweaty and slightly uncomfortable. He took off his Pea-coat and threw it on the floor. A plain black long sleeve shirt beneath it. He sits down on the sofa that now had become rather unraveled after the fight. But he didn't care, better than the pavement outside.

Mary let out a small sigh. "You're probably right." She stared up at the ceiling for no particular reason, when a memory came to her. A small smile played on her lips and she began talking. Maybe it was because she needed to distance herself from the horrors that had happened to her. Maybe she just needed to fill the silence, regardless, she spoke. "When I was a small child, I was terrified of the dark. Monsters dance in it, I insisted to my parents. When nightlights and assuring me that he'd shoot any monsters that came near me failed, my father finally took me outside one night and had me look at the stars. They, he claimed, were angels. Every last one of them. And their duty was to ensure that monster's didn't haunt the dark. So whenever I thought there was monsters in the dark, I should just think of the millions and billions of angels above me, and they would burn away the monsters. And I believed him, and it at least helped me sleep through the night easily." She gave a soft laugh. "Out of all of my childhood fantasies, my childhood dreams, that's the one thing I wish was real. That the stars were angels, and they burned away monsters. Ridiculous..I know. But still. If I had only one wish..."

Julian nodded slightly. Grasping within his own mind that he was one of Mary's monsters that an Angel would love to burn away. He closes his eyes tight and fights back the urge to just fall apart before he looks up at Mary with a fake smile.

“If I had one wish it would be...: he pauses for a moment, and his facial expression decided it was better to not finish that statement

“Well... it doesn't matter anymore. I'm going to check and see if the shower still works. You should get some sleep. That man said that your first night will be rough so come to us if you need anything.” He said this quickly and awkwardly, trying to hide a subject which he knew was on his mind. His sword and what he was. He knew it told her things. And he would deal with it at a later time. But right now, he didn't want Mary to see him as a Monster that should be destroyed... like so many others had.

---

Descending the stair well of the apartmant building, Mairyell's mind slowly slipped into deep thought as he wondered what he was really going to do with himself now that Aeris was...out of reach. Sighing a bit as he entered the cool early morning air, Mairyell let his back slide down the outside wall, where he sat, thinking. Well, I'm not giving up on her, he noted, nodding his head a bit and looking up at the sun as it gradually rose over the cityscape of Loom. He then began to run through the events of just the past few hours...he didn't want to remember the kidnapping.

He noted that while he had had no power against that cursed bastard, that he had been able to handle himself just fine in the face of even an ascended werewolf, a mildly impressive feat. He hadn't fought too many surface demons of the ascended class...and usually they had been vampires, which he knew the weaknesses of quite intimately. Shrugging a bit, he stretched his neck muscles, turning his head back and forth a bit before leaning his head against the wall and closing his eyes. There really wasn't much else to do...just protect and grow stronger, more in control, he supposed. Afterall, he was tired of this curse controlling him, so perhaps he could finally tip the scales to an equal the playing field.

The question was how...?

Sighing deeply and letting the slight frustration that had been building flow out with the breath, Mairyell opened his eyes once more to glance once again at the rising sun. It represented hope for some, life for others, but for him it was somehow a reminder of what he was...and the things that he had to do to live each day.

Few of them were pleasant.

With the girl more or less now safe, Solus' previous curiosity of the young Vampire peeked it's head in the back of his mind. It was rare to find a Vampire who gave a damn about things other than just feeding, let alone actually protecting a potential meal. And that magic... Solus' arcane knowledge could use some more information in its vast library. He followed the same path out that Mairyell took. Heading down the stairs, and stopping in the doorway that was left open. He casually leaned his head out to searched for the Fledgeling.

Luckily, he was leaning against the wall just by the open entrance to the apartment building. Looking up at the sky in thought.

"Pretty impressive for a youngin'." The Necromaster began while surveying the road from left to right, and realizing that now was the time when regular people would get up to go to work, and start their daily routines. The last they needed to get up to was demonic man and a Vampire staring them in the face as they walked towards their cars. But Solus didn't really care. "Healing a person like that and all. And that Wolf, I must have missed quite the party."

Hearing the hunter coming, Mairyell glanced to the side, only to glance back up to watch the sunrise as Solus spoke. The young man just shrugged a bit and frowned slightly before laughing just a bit, "It has certainly been quite the night...I wouldn't personally call it a party though." Closing his purple hued eyes again, he laughed lightly, almost as if at some kind of irony, before speaking again, "I suppose I should thank you though. Both for saving Mary, and for the compliment." He glanced at the man, opening his eyes once more, as he realized that Solus may just have been the only person in his life that he had let himself trust in the space of a few hours.

It was dangerous, but he was in it already, so he might as well stay. No reason to kick the man out of his life in this case. After all, if the hunter betrayed him, he'd either be dead, or he'd kill the guy himself, it didn't really matter anymore. His eyes briefly looked over the man's strange features before Mairyell turned away, watching as some people, humans, began to frequent the streets and go about their lives. It wasn't the first time that, after looking at them, he wished he could just have a normal life. Too bad the fates had had other plans for his life.... Fates, now wasn't that a novel idea, a bunch of lofty, all knowing, all seeing, manipulative fucks sitting up in some existential cave dictating every detail of every person's life.

Smirking slightly despite the horribleness of the thought, Mairyell glanced up at the sky, not even looking anywhere in particular anymore, and hoped that at if they existed, at least they were enjoying the fucked up situation he'd been born in. Or hell, maybe he could hope that it all meant something...that it would all lead him to something better.

He could hope, or trick himself into believing there was such a thing, but he didn't really believe it anyways. Oh well, so much for that. Sighing, he then laid his head against the wall again, his eyes closed, and waited for Solus' response.

"She's not really saved..." Retorted the human. "I only prevented the insanity that would have consumed her mind. In the end she is still a mutant." Mutant. That was a word he used for everything that wasn't any of the three races, but a mix of the two, or at times all three. "I doubt she could go back to her old life. Sure, the only visible difference is the eyes. But humans like to overreact..." Solus knew this would be the terribly lonely part of her life, being ridiculed and refered to as a 'Witch'. He doubted that she would even pull through it all. Her mind was weak willed, but really that wasn't her fault, it was the fault of the Mark.

The things she saw in her mind had scarred her with the Mark of Kain. She would never be the same. But Solus really had no right to doubt her, for all he knew, perhaps she would become strong from all this.

"She's going to be an outcast in this world just like we are."

His body mostly unmoving, Mairyell shook his head slightly, not bothering to open his eyes or move from the wall. "I suppose she will, but it's not like she could've gone back to normalcy even before this. Her parents are dead and I'd say she had already been scarred emotionally enough that living normally would've already been impossible." Talking about this kind of thing reminded him that 'normal' had never really described his life...he'd been born cursed, abnormal...a mutant.

Mutant...he didn't like that word because it implied that she was a freak. She wasn't. She was a normal girl in unfortunate circumstances...they shared that, in some ways, only he'd been living in unfortunate circumstances since birth. "Don't call her that," he said coolly, surprisingly little emotion threading his words, "It's insulting...even if it is true. I'd know, afterall I'm no better." Frowning a bit, Mairyell opened his eyes and stared at Solus a while. "Guess you'd understand that pretty well too, huh? Heh...what d'you want anyways. You obviously didn't come down here for a smoke or some shit, so spill it so I can have even a moment of peace." Sadly, the unfortunate young man had no idea that the future held anything but peace.

"Mutant is a medical term." Solus said. "You taking offence to it is like a fat woman getting her knickers in a twist because her Doctor told her she was obese and offered her a diet due to health concerns." He shook his head. "Doesn't matter. Forget it." He sighed heavily as he thought very carefully about what to say next. "I came to talk because you are one with the 'Masquerade', so to speak. A Vampire would rarely even give a damn about someone other than themselves. And yet here you are..." He turned his head to the Fledgeling and continued. "Around the back of Mercy Hospital there is a pharmasist that provides donated blood. All neatly packaged, ready for potential clients like yourself, all for money of course. Just look for the grey door. There's an intercom there, ring the bell. He'll answer with: Who's there? Just answer with: A Patient." He let that sink in for a moment while he looked around the street.

"Just an option if you don't feel like hurting people when you need to feed. But if you really need to sink your teeth into something, the Triad in Little Tokyo have a permanent reservation in the Morgue. They speciallize in human trafficing and prostitution. Take young girls off the streets and drug them up, preparing them for 'sale'. They're bad people. Sucking a few of them dry would help a lot of citizens. And it would save Loom PD the trouble."

Making no response to the comparison, Mairyell's eyes opened only as the triad was mentioned, at which point he gave Solus a sidelong glance with those strangely purple, slightly glowing, eyes of his. They were abnormal...even for a vampire. "The Triad eh? Sounds like a good deal, I'll keep them in mind. As to the hospital, well I'll think about it, but bloodlust isn't sated by donations. I'm not looking for a fix like most vampires..." when he uttered the word vampire there was a hint of disgust in his voice, as if he hated the term. "Unfortunately, even if my thirst is quenched, my bloodlust might not be. I have to kill to be sated, there's just no other way...." Sighing lightly the young man pushed himself off of the wall and stood up, hitting Solus' shoulder weakly as if in thanks as he turned and walked by him to head back in. "Thanks though, it'll hopefully save a lot of innocents from my darker side," he sounded...lazy...no, tired was a better word. He'd been through a lot and he was emotionally exhausted, too bad he didn't trust himself to sleep a few hours.

With the thought of sleep sounded nice, Mairyell entered the apartment building only for him to stop the next moment as all his senses went on high alert before he even had time to process why.

Chaos fell, draping the city in its influence, and Mairyell shuddered as a wave of nausea assaulted his stomach, almost causing him to retch. His muscles tensing to help stop the action, he swallowed hard and then turned back around, looking to Solus. "I'm not the only one who feels that, right?" Mairyell's voice was strained, as if he were resisting something.

Solus lifted up his head as Mairyell said that. He squinted his eyes as his mind probed the outside world. SZZZZZZAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEIIIISSSSSSSSSSS A horrible voice wrapped itself around the Necromaster's mind. You sure? Replied Solus mentally.

YYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSS

"Oh shit..." Cursed out Solus. He could feel the darkness pounding into his head. Sirens went off in his mind as his brain cells scrambled to action, his Realm slamming itself shut to protect Solus' consciousness from the very essence of fear that the Chimeric Lord released into the world. "You know who the Demon Lord of Destruction and Fear is, kid?" He asked Mairyell's rhetorically. "'Cause he's here..."

"Szayeis..." Mairyell said a bit quietly, a name that in all right he shouldn't have any knowledge of. Except, that very lord was his sire, as much as he hated to admit such. "Yeah...and it's chaos. Fear and destruction are just side effects," the vampire said as he rubbed his temples, trying to drive off the demonic lord's influence. Then he smelled them...the demons, they were everywhere. "Shit...how the fuck are we going to deal with this," the vampire said, thinking aloud. "There's so many...where in the fuck did they come from," there was disbelief written all over his face. He didn't know how he was supposed to protect Mary with all of this going on...they needed to get the hell out of here.

"I doubt Szayeis emerging and a whole army of demon just appearing out of thin air is a coincidence..." Responded the Slayer. "Get Mary and..." Solus never did get that man's name. "that other guy out of town. You know how to hotwire a car?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Mairyell said, a slightly grudging edge to his voice. Thinking for a moment he sighed and turned, calling back down the hall as he did so, "I don't care how reckless you are, or skilled, don't face that demon. He'll tear you apart," Mairyell then proceeded to run up the stairs to gather the two so they could hopefully get to safety. As he did so, he cursed the fates. He could never just rest, could he?

Theme

The city was in chaos. The once proud pillar of order and security was now drowned in blood and violence. Demons went after humans and angels went after them in turn, life flowing out freely out of open wounds.

The sound of a thousand wings was maddening. The sky of Loom was dyed in white brilliance as the bigger part of the Council passed like a huge cloud, hiding the sun from the humans’ eyes and covering the Surface in shadows. The screams of distraught humans was distant to their ears, the cries of children hidden from their sight. They paid no heed to the happenings below, their eyes and minds set in the distance. It wasn’t the number of the wings alone that caused the frightened screams of many. It was the blazing light of those in front that hurt the humans’ eyes and souls – the wings of the Archangels.

When the whole city started to vibrate with the beats of wings, buildings screeching in pain, Hazumi’s head shot up and so did her body. However the next step didn’t come to her, an unknown fear gripping her throat with the promise of death. It wasn’t hard to recognize it now, the fear of that demon… It was calling her and The Council, the entire Council was out, in Loom, the foe—

She shook her head and made the step, leaping out of the window, wings securely catching her fall and carrying her to them. No doubt crept in her mind – she knew she was needed.

Yet… The Council was closer than expected. Not even halfway to the Council building, she saw them in the distance. When they came in sight their flight slowed as if the gust of her wings was pushing them back. Like two demons fighting with their presence rather than their hands, the two groups slowed – Hazumi and the Council, and they silently drifted to earth, covering the Red Square like the petals of a blooming tree. Hazumi stared in awe at the majesty of this army, her eyes passing through them in search for answers to the question her lips couldn’t form. Yet the angels didn’t speak either.

Instead they all, each and every one of them, flared their wings and pointed their open palms at her. Hazumi’s feathers bristled with the touch of a million hot needles, and then they pulled. They doubled their hands into fists and pulled and Hazumi’s body seized, all air escaping her. She doubled over but her feet didn’t move. It wasn’t her body they wanted, it was her essence. The dark angel gasped as her very essence felt strained and felt like it was ripping apart.

Voices started surfacing in her chocking mind, begging for mercy, roaring for vengeance, hoping for peace. Some found answers on the other side of the invisible link, some believed the promises and some cursed them out, but Hazumi didn’t move. She didn’t fully understand what was going on but she knew there was an escape, a weakness in the army. Her eyes never bulged from the crowd and yes, sure enough, she saw something peculiar amidst the Tamers. It was one, a girl, calmly watching her, and she was not a Tamer, but a Clairvoyant instead, she knew, though she didn’t know how.

And the Pure wasn’t even that… there was something strange about the way the skin stuck to her face, something peculiar about the greedy gleam in her eyes…

“Listen to me,”

…something peculiar about the volume of her voice in Hazumi’s head. Something familiar.

“Essence.”

Sight returned and the voices were quelled. The world disappeared, melted within those near-white pupils of the one who called her by name. She recognized the feathers of the one who made her kill innocents. And she recognized the creature underneath…

“Listen to me… and remember. Remember your creation… your shaping.”

Theme

And suddenly, on command, as if she was waiting for this her whole life, she remembered. She remembered her heart being ripped out of the motionless body of the Gatekeeper. She remembered it dying in agony, in sorrow and fury at the fate the demons had ensured, the death of the Gate and the collapse of Heaven. She remembered the first cracks that her fall had created on the Harp, the weight of the worlds now resting not on three, but on two sole pillars. She remembered Luciana’s blood-curdling scream as the imbalance first touched her mind and her own helplessness to stop it all. Even worse, it was her who caused it.
But there was no strength left in her to fight what was happening. Her bodies were demolished and the Void was beaconing.

But access was denied her. She was pulled back from the sweet embrace of nothingness back into a world filled with unimaginable pain, her existence straining to go or stay. There was no mouth left to express that agony… and that joy.

Small fragments of life were forcefully re-entering her heart, filling it with essence that did not belong. Millions of soul fragments fought in resistance and her heart was breaking under the pressure. Then… something changed. A melody was heard, the sweet, sad whisper of a violin. It entered her and clouded the screams and the heart sang along to a lullaby that put them all to sleep. The former Gate and Gatekeeper merged in a shattered and corrupted Essence.

Half an eternity later a consciousness emerged. A child, a human baby, open from head to toe, already losing its fragile dying voice, its amber eyes filled with nothing but suffering. The Essence was placed inside it – it was too big for the tiny body, it shouldn’t have been able to fit. But the FleshShaper never gave up, never gave Death a choice to take his toys away. With every tissue he connected pain started to return, with every vein – life stated cruising in and out of the heart. The millions of voices were quelled with each beat, the power of this new creation purging them of their identities, burning them away, smelting them all into one indistinguishable essence.

Then… then came the wings. Not real ones, but forged, stolen, just like everything else – bare bones, each and every one with their own master… but with no feathers. They were sharp and ugly and incomplete.

That’s when Kristine appeared. She took in the helpless body and nurtured it, sewing a new feather on the bare bones every night. Her hands were gentle, not like the FleshShaper’s, they didn’t cause pain, didn’t force anything on her body that didn’t belong there. The essences in the feathers didn’t scream with despair, but with hope instead, with joy. They were given willingly, a tribute to a greater cause.

With time the body became more mobile and the essences inside – less so. They quieted and died down, a new one being introduced gradually every now and then, in the shape of a willing victim. Demons and humans came to their liar, sacrificing their bodies for a prophecy known to few. The rumors spread in the underworld about the place where people went missing, and they only attracted more and more visitors. The information they were offered inside apartment 86 was always the truth and always met with shock, awe, outrage or fear and they were always given a choice. Some decided to merge, some were forced to do so. Some left to spread the word.

The small body grew and so did its skills. A single “consciousness” or rather, a “will”, emerged, and with it the body started functioning as a normal one should. It had already forgotten all about its past lives and now started learning the rules of this new universe. It was nurtured with the flesh and blood needed to sustain the demonic part of it, guided into unlocking the skills dormant within its essence. Most importantly, it had a master to obey.

However, dark times were to come. The Essence could only be loyal to one and as Hazumi found someone else she’d rather belong to – a vampire called Jed – her nature started shifting. Kristine was blind to see the growing loyalty and deaf to hear the morality in the words of the surface demon. She didn’t know their power and the way they were bending the future. Nor did he. Neither of them knew they would be the cause of the Creator’s demise by the very hands of the creation. And Hazumi didn’t know that the admission would almost cost her her own life.

She’d never known how she managed to survive that. Now she knew. It was the demons’ essence in her and their healing abilities that had cheated the Void that day. Or maybe it was Chime’s heart that beat in her chest that assured the Essence of the World couldn’t die by simple means.

The memories passed yet they didn’t bring pain and suffering, only harmony. Now she knew, she remembered what she was. She understood why holy water and sunlight hurt her skin, why the hunger for essence suddenly returned, why she had the desire and will to kill without remorse and why the essence vials in her pocket never filled. She understood why the world made no sense if there was nobody to lead her.

Hazumi sighed, not yet realizing that she had enough breath to spare for such an act. Before her stood the FleshShaper, the Creator who had never been her master, dressed in the ritual robes of dying skin, and he was everything that mattered.

“You want me to serve you.” She finally spoke. Her voice was calm and level – it was merely stating the obvious and inevitable.

“Yes. You were created to serve me and do so you should.”

“Why?” She asked, more curious than anything. Her eyes were pinned on his, never blinking, never ceasing their attempt to understand.

“Because I gave you life back. Because you, Chime, Violin, Vanessa, Gadrell, Flemm, Alexis Kasio… Because you, Essence, wouldn’t have been standing here today if it wasn’t for me to restore you.”

So? What does that matter? Hazumi wondered. I was created because you wanted to create me – it is a deed already done and it is beyond my powers to change the past. I can only change the future, so why should the past matter? What matters is the future, not the past.

“What do you want to do with me?”

“I want you to consume the Harp. I want you to merge with Melody and Luciana. I want you to become the sole God of this god-forsaken world and I want you to set the Balance straight. Once Hell’s gate is demolished all three worlds will merge.” A mirthful light shone in the demon’s eyes. “And everyone will become equal. Angels, demons and humans will all collide and intertwine with each other – an age of possession or taming, an age of erased boundaries. A truly magnificent world will emerge from that, full of beings much more powerful than ever before, a world of Chimeras!”

A new world… but only if the rotting ashes of the old one are there to fertilize it.

“An age of death and violence. An age where only the strong survive and all law and moral is drowned in bloodlust and the frenzied will to survive. A world mirroring the Void itself, a flipped image of the one Aaurus has created by separating us all? No. You don’t talk of creation, you talk of destruction. What good will that bring?”

“But it will. Even our current world only allows for the strongest ones to survive. It happens in Hell where the weak get consumed by the strong, and it happens on the Surface too. Even the very Council is built on the foundations of fear and raw power. However, there is still imbalance. The angels and humans prevail and the demons are locked away like beasts in a cage. I merely want for the chances to be even.”

Hazumi had to ponder about that. None of what he said was untrue. In her short life she had met demons who didn’t deserve to die and angels who did. She had met humans fighting for survival, with any means necessary. And what the FleshShaper was saying was told to her before, by an angel and by a demon.

Sacrifices had to be made for the sake of progress. But how big did those sacrifices need to be? Was it worth destroying the fragile balance of this world to try and create another? The pressure of expectation was slowly sapping her willpower away, numbing her body and slowing her mind.

Then time started again. In a kilometer radius a shockwave spread through the city, topping houses, bending the asphalt, shattering windows and sending everyone on their hands and knees. When Hazumi’s head snapped up her eyes found the source of the earthquake. It was the body of an archangel, dead at the hands of Krengius Fardine, The Great Defiler. It was the escape of the Original’s essence that had made their eyes, eardrums and souls bleed.

No.

I will not serve the Destructor and the violator of Life.

And I will not serve the Imposers either.

With one swift move of the hands Hazumi parted the creatures, the FleshShaper on one side, the angels on the other, tugged away from each other like rag dolls. The sky groaned like a wounded piece of fabric, ready to rip into nothingness. Hazumi could feel their essences on the tip of her fingers, all small and insignificant against the weight of the 3 worlds whose pulse now vibrated within her. Without a word she clenched her fists and snuffed the creatures’ essences out, trapped inside her body, the meaty shells of what they once were now empty and motionless. Straightening her back she took a deep breath and listened to the song of her heart that was whispering in her ears.

The Violin she’d once been was humming, its sound sweet and dangerous, sharp and gentle all the same. A small smile appeared on her lips at the familiarity of the sensation – the beautiful melody that set things straight, one that had been silenced 5000 years ago by the very hands of the FleshShaper. He had created the chimeras – beings the Gatekeepers and Gates had no control over, beings they weren’t attuned to understand. They didn’t recognize their sounds and couldn’t turn them to melodies of war or piece, all they could do was… crumble.

She should kill the FleshShaper. She should return his essence to the Void and ask Him to never give it back again.

Or maybe she should kill the Council for disrupting the Balance, for diluting their blood with the one of humans and occupying the Surface.

In her hands lay the weight of the World and she knew she had the power to change it. She was the Essence of the World, a creation of Aaurus, Lucy and Life itself. She could do anything, anything to this world. She could break the will of men and angels with one hum of the lips and erase the demons’ thirst for death with one swipe of the hand.

Yet… yet she lacked guidance. And she couldn’t decide what the right thing to do was. Closing her eyes and isolating herself from the world once more, Hazumi let her mind drift back to the Gate of Hell. Melody was waiting there, acknowledging her presence merely with a smile, never ceasing the tune that kept the World and all Life moving.

“Hello.” Hazumi greeted dumbly, uncertain if she had the right to call Melody her sister now.

“Hello, sister.” The other woman replied, making Hazumi smile. “I am happy to see that you’ve awakened and haven’t destroyed the world yet. What brings you here?”

“Guidance. I seek guidance.”

“From me?” Melody asked, a chuckle escaping her lips. “My dear, I have no right to tell you what is right and what is wrong.”

“But you are everything that’s right and wrong.”

“No.” Melody laughed. “No, my dear. I am everything that was right and wrong. I am what Aaurus and Lucy created long, long ago, before Life became what it is today. I am a relic, just like Luciana and Lucien, just like Chime who fell first. What you need is someone Alive themselves. Someone who knows the world as it currently is. Someone who lives in it. I cannot play you.”

Hazumi lowered her head, closed her eyes and sighed. Once she opened them she was on the Surface again, creatures of all natures surrounding her motionless body with unhealthy curiosity. She scanned them and realized she knew a few of them by name. Lucien, the father of one of her, Azel, the one who gave her wisdom, Szayeis, the Lord and Solus, the man who had selflessly and selfishly broken the second Rule of the Council over and over again. A smile tugged on her lips as she slowly moved her golden eyes across them, surveying them, measuring her loyalty to them. She didn’t hold enough to let any play her.

However each and every one of them was fit to wield her.

The Essence of the World, the thing she had forcefully but not unwillingly become, was the ultimate power. It was the power to change, the power to bend and twist reality and Life itself as the master see fit. However her own essence didn’t long for the responsibility of using it. It longed to be used instead.

So, closing her eyes for one last time, Hazumi let her consciousness drift away and dissolve into the overwhelming desire to serve. Her physical form shifted and changed, and “she” rested in mid-air in the shape of a simple sword.

The air around it rippled and pulsed with invitation, filling the winds of Loom with the call for anyone willing to take it and change the World.

THE EMPTY LORD

He had heard the call, felt the penetrating invitation. But he'd been expecting it. For the longest time, this variable remained undefined in his plan, like a flickering fire at the end of a long road. And now it was coming to an end, forcing his hand to examine the triviality himself in lieu of sending ambassadors on his behalf. His followers, having been soothed and informed of the new changes, remained behind in that secret world that existed in between the Three Worlds' inhabitants' compositions. Even the one with the rictus grin who had betrayed him understood the wisdom of letting his lord handle this.

And handle it, Ioi most certainly would.

As a large semi-transparent blue rectangle multiplied itself in place and phased him onto the Surface, it was the first time since the Great War's beginning that Ioi, the Empty Lord of Maioi (a northeast region of Hell), breathed surface air. As he exhaled through his unseen mouth, dark purple smoke rose into the air, and joined into tiny little dark orbs that joined the rest hovering around him like wandering wisps. His form, though dark as slate and unclothed, actually warped the reality of the space he occupied. Light bent around him, barely able to bounce off of him and go into the eyes of those who may see him. Shadows were delved under the bending photons, the two elements merging into a purple smoky essence that seemed to breathe out hot air as it followed him. Dark crystal lattices, none no larger than a human palm, were embedded in Ioi's body and radiated not power, but insensible abstracts of information.

With purpose, he took a stride toward the Sword that had previously been Hazumi, a strange oddity of a person whose files filled an iota. Eight small slits on his face, glowing as though empowered eyes, bore down on the two-bladed instrument and its simplistic, unassuming European style. A strange symbol above his eyes vibrated lightly as Ioi assessed the secret details of its composition. It was as he expected from long ago: a gathering of the essence of these worlds. Again, it beckoned him -- anyone really -- to grasp its handle and change reality.

Which he had been doing all along, surely and slowly.

Less smoke escaped him as he stepped forward again, seemingly ignoring the situation around him but in fact had planned this window of opportunity--it bought him a couple minutes before anyone would notice. For his was not an aura of angel, human, or demon (though that had been his former nature)--as the Council who could not make sense of Chimeras, so would anyone else would struggle to sense Ioi. But once they were able to, they could no longer hide from him. Not that he was searching for them, as he had no need to--it was his way to be where he needed to be, and nowhere else ever at the wrong tick of time.

He seized the Sword, its almighty power trying to surge through him and beg him to embrace service of the world. Holding the blade tip skyward, his eyes dimmed in intensity as he realized how easily he could change the worlds. His wisps flitted around the blade, trails of smoke fading into light and shadow, and back again. He understood what this was for, in fact, the whole feeling was bittersweet.

He lowered the sword, disappointed.

The use of this instrument by him would unbalance the amount of hope and despair that he needed for his plans' fruition. There was no way he could proceed with this opportunity without obvious despair-causing changes. Although before, when he had been planning his return as a herald of an invasion of the Three Worlds, he would have gladly used this Sword. It would have been checkmate...

But Ioi, the Empty Lord, and the last of the Dovetail demons, knew better. It took a while, but he knew better, for when the truth assumed him, he realized a better way; a safer alternative to reality's inevitable subduing. Unfortunately, destroying the Sword was not a great idea and he knew that while it still existed, it would continually call to someone to wield the essence of the world, for better or for worse. He turned around, his window of opportunity fading down to its last few seconds before someone would notice him. His options were before him, and Ioi decided to wait. Simply wait. Nobody was going to destroy the Three Worlds, but he was not going to keep it for himself.

He did not need to: even now, his Iotan essence was communicating with the Sword... abstract to abstract.

His wisps, now forty in number, swirled around him flawlessly, from his three clawed feet to the top of his bald head. The Sword in his right hand, his left hand clenched and released, its dark purple claws trembling. Smoke quietly sifted out of his mouth again as he very patiently waited for those empowered variables to show themselves and solve the equation of this confrontation with him.

And normally, time and patience were beneath Ioi and never influenced how he acted, but he hoped things would hurry along; after all, he had a honeymoon to commence...

The Chimeric Lord of Chaos
Theme

His arrival brought forth only more destruction, angels fell, buildings crumbled, and essence was drawn to him, devoured by his shadow. His eyeless visage stood in the center of the square before the Citadel, it was the center of a vortex, a vortex that assured the death of those who entered its sway.

Angels flew in, only to be snared by the constricting weight of his endless shadow, pulled in by his body and devoured by its unending maw. He walked, almost unimpeded, towards the building, his power growing greater by the second, every death, every life stolen fueling his chaotic sway over the world around him.

A pressure was building in the area, his vicinity, but even as it did another energy released itself within the area of the lord's senses. An essence he knew, but still hardly recognized. It was blinding now, sweeping over the city just as his own influence had. His body shuddered and he again felt the old one stir within him.

An angel, seeing an opening in the flux of energies, attacked him from behind, brandishing their blade and driving it forth towards the lord's exposed back. The shadow rose, ensnaring the fool in manifested tendrils of darkness, quickly engulfing him, and then pulling him into its depths.

There were no further attacks as the power emanated throughout. “A new gatekeeper has arisen,” the lord stated simply, turning his sightless gaze towards the Red square and walking away from the Citadel. The angels, realizing the severity of this, did not let up.

They swarmed in from all sides, some foolishly flying, but others using sheer grounded speed and ranged weaponry to fire upon the lord. Lances neared, javelins closed distances, but the lord continued to walk. His shadows rose from the surface of the ground, becoming a thick sphere of inky darkness around the lord.

Their blades impaled the sphere, becoming lodged in its surface. They were pulled in, crushed, and absorbed just as all else had been. The sphere folded out, touching ground once more and becoming what any who knew not the danger would consider a mere shadow.

Szayeis continued on, an d the angels continued their assault. Two even managed to step onto his shadow and charge him, only for their feet to be caught by the pulling abyss and their bodies slowly ingested by his darkness. “I am unending, foolish angels. None of your kind stand a chance against me, nor do any of my own.” His voice spread, sending shudders through their bodies, yet their souls were drawn towards him. Allured by the sound of chaos, the power he held.

Then a shining light, illuminating the sky with its brilliance, descended to strike down the darkness that stood before their Citadel. Szayeis took stance, raised his hand and blocked the archangel's blade with his bare hand, his mouth curving into a smile as he heard the movement of another pair of great wings.

“I am closed to your strikes,” the lord said with a smirk across his lips. The other angel swooped down, his wings tearing through the air, before folding in a dive bomb, his fists and divine light his only power. The first arch' pressed his blade down, pushing the lord back a few inches. His smile only grew, for while the arch' could resist the power of his constricting presence, his divinity could not.

The light emitted by the angel's wings began to be pulled towards the ground, the shadow's endless hunger tearing at the being's very essence. “You are but a mere demon...how can you be so...powerful,” the plates of armor that rested on the demon's face shifted to reveal two glowing white embers. The eyes pierced right through the glare of the arch', cutting through all boundaries and burying their gaze like a spear, deep in the angel's mind. “You are nothing but a relic,” Szayeis' voice growled, “and relics should remain in the ground, dead, where they belong.” The angel's armor began to vibrate harshly, rattling together even as his comrade dove to attempt rescue through defeat of the monster.

Szayeis began to laugh, a deep, multi-toned cackling, manic, maniacal, and filled with mirth and dark amusement. Its pitch rose and fell on multiple scales at once, striking fear even into the archangel before him. Terror seemed to emanate from the lord, and with his piercing gaze striking through him, the angel could no longer bear the sound.

Blade dropping from his hand, the angel fell to his knees and covered his ears. Szayeis turned and looked directly into the eyes of the plummeting arch who had thought to strike him down. The smile upon his lips was malicious as his shadows engulfed the other arch, strangling his essence and pushing itself into the being's body. “Possession is a marvelous thing,” the lord said with a dark grin on his features as the defeated arch rose to his feet and took to the air, wings beating till he passed his ally.

Blood fell into the pool of darkness as the diving arch's wing was split from his body by the blade of his ally now made foe. “I am Szayeis, the lord of chaos, and your essence shall be mine. Take honor in knowing that your miniscule existence will become a part of my power!” The lord laughed again as his shadows caught the arch and devoured him, ripping from him his essence and taking it all in one fell swoop.

For Szayeis was no normal demon, and he was likely the only being who could do so, as an archangel's essence was volatile. It was too bad that Szayeis' hunger was infinite and the stomach of his Origin endless. His smile having grown somewhat, the lord turned and bent his knees, suddenly erupting into the air and leaving behind a crater. The shadow however, never left the ground, only expanding as his body cast a larger and larger shadow. Those still in the square and all those below him found themselves suddenly entrenched and soon swallowed by the lord's shadow, becoming a part of him as many of their comrades had before.

So he landed, the armor once more covering his features, and readied himself to jump once more as the building below him began to crumble, and simultaneously be pulled in by his shadow's hungry maw. Again he took to the air, soaring over the city in search of the gatekeeper, in search of Hazumi, drawn to her essence.

The angel's struck.

Flying above him and slicing downwards an angel attempted to skewer him as two others passed him on his sides, slipping their blades through either side of his body. Szayeis growled, slapping the other blade aside, and spinning to slam his foot into the side of the angel's head, sending it flying. The other two soon found themselves in immense pain as his shadowy essence crept up their blades, despite them having flown away, and into the small wounds they had received earlier. Their bodies began to convulse and their wings turn black, as his chimeric power took hold of their bodies and devoured their minds. As this occurred the lord's wounds quickly healed and his shadows rose and formed wings on his back.

“Very well, you unruly lot, let us see how you fare when the sky is taken from you as well.” The angels swarmed in, taking passes at them, each less successful than the last as the lord impaled one, threw another, tore one in half, dodged three and landed on their backs, tearing their wings from their bodies and letting them fall into what remained of his shadows. They all fell, like birds in a flock, one by one, into the depths of his shadow, devoured in moments, to only add to his power.

Glaring as their corpses continued to fall, Szayeis noted a strange absence of essence near what he thought to be Hazumi's location. White eyes narrowing beneath the armored mask, Szayeis' body suddenly writhed and Origin State fell to shambles.

The angels were engulfed, completely, in a visceral mass of whirling black fog, taken into the nightwalker's body, and then suddenly infused with the very essence of madness and chaos itself. Szayeis had possessed them, all twenty remaining angels simultaneously. Then, guiding his flock of bodies, he took wing to the locale, intrigued by the strange absence.

Angels still attempted to attack him, but not for long, for the bodies his now possessed hid a large portion of his nature, concealing it within the quickly dissolving bags of flesh and gore. Few bodies could hold the lord for long, such was the nature of his chaotic soul.

Nonetheless, he would reach the locale in a few minutes, and then the party would truly begin.

Lucien

Chaos. Chaos and death. Lucien floated above the city, taking the break from the fighting to regain his breath. He was splattered with blood, or whatever served as the blood of the various races of Demons, and his sword dripped with it. Beneath him, humans ran or fought or hid. And died. Screams drifted up to him, and the few sounds of gunfire were being slowly silenced. While humans were the most equal out of the three, they were also the weakest. The Angels were too busy fighting for their own lives to worry about the lives of the humans, and the Demons weren't being stopped all that effectively by the few weapons they had managed to grab. The good news, he supposed, was that there were very few truly powerful Demons in the city. Four that he could sense. The Lord of Chaos, devouring those Surface Angels who challenged him. The Keeper of the Balance, though her essence was...strange. It was changing, shifting back and forth between her usual essence and the new one. Odd. The Fleshshaper, approaching the majority of the Cowards. And the final one was unfamiliar to him. It was a powerful Demon Lord, that much was apparent. But, Lucien didn't know the race or who it was. No matter. It wasn't making any move towards the fighting.

He had lost Hazumi in the fighting, but kept her within his senses. Thus, he stumbled in midair when she suddenly changed. Hazumi's essence disappeared-no, that wasn't right. It shifted, grew. It became something that he hadn't felt since the end of the Great War. Heaven's Gatekeeper. If anyone wasn't fighting for their lives long enough and listened past the sounds of combat and slaughter, they would have heard Lucien's laughter. So that's what she was! Nothing new, or strange. A vessel for the essence of the slain Gatekeeper. That explained...quite a lot, actually. Before he could revel in this unexpected turn of events, a shockwave ran through the city. Simultaneously, two Coward's essences winked out. The Lord of Chaos growing stronger, and the Fleshshaper devouring the fallen Coward he had slain. A cruel smile crossed Lucien's face and satisfaction rivaled with irritation. It was good that two cowards had died, yes, but that meant the Archangels hadn't died for their crimes. They had been slain in this battle, nothing more.

Before he could decide which of the two Lords to kill first, he became abruptly aware of the growing amount of Demons and Cowards around Hazumi. Powerful Gatekeeper she may be, she was still his daughter. Or at least, enough of his daughter that he would protect her. So, with a flap of his powerful wings, Lucien drove himself towards Hazumi, even as her essence began to change and morph again. Have to get to her, have to get to her. The thought pounded in his head, even as he dodged a winged demon's claws and eviscerated it with a flick of his blade, it's guts and body falling down on the battlefield that had once been a human city. He was within sight when the invitation pulsed throughout the city, beckoning. Which wasn't good at all. Fighting erupted between the gathered Cowards and Angels and Demons, destroying the brief moment of peace.

For a few long moments, no one touched the sword. The Lord of Chaos slowly shrunk within Lucien's senses, but didn't completely disappear. Hiding? Why now? He wondered, even as the essence grew ever closer. A grim smile touched the Original's face. It wouldn't be long now.. He had just landed when another powerful being entered the world. If he hadn't been with his daughter for her final days, watching helplessly as her essence was polluted and changed, if he hadn't been with Hazumi with her subtly different essence(when he could detect it), he wouldn't have sensed the being. He would have seen the thing, easily enough. But his senses would have been..perplexed. As it was, he still didn't know what it was, but he classified it with his daughter and Hazumi before this entire mess.

Still. He had to cut his way through a crowd of Demons and Cowards to get to it.

Demons fell, his armor was tore in various places, and his blade covered in blood once more. He pushed his way through the crowd, killing only those he who got in his way between the sword Hazumi had become and the new arrival to this lovely little Hell in the human world. Luckily for him, one of the Cowards stumbled in his path, being beaten back by a pair of Demons. For a moment, Lucien considered just letting the Archangel fend for herself. But then, he would miss the opportunity to kill the Coward. His blade flicked out again, and blocked the blow meant for the Coward. Ignoring the grateful look given to him, Lucien shoved his sword into the Demon's chest. A mistake. As he tried to pull it out, the blade got stuck as the corpse fell, and the other Demon charged into him. Claws sought openings in his armor, reaching for the flesh beneath. Pain racked down his side as those claws found his flesh. The good news was, the Demon yanked his sword free in the process of tackling him to the ground. The bad news was, there was a Demon with lots of claws on top of him and most of those claws were through the tears in his armor and digging into his flesh, and those that weren't were opening new tears in his armor.

When he had hit the ground, his sword was knocked from his grasp. While he was reaching for it, cursing the Demon and the Gods and pretty much anything he could blame for getting in this situation, the Demon suddenly gave a shriek of pain, and fell limp upon him. The Coward pulled her sword out of the corpse, and then pulled the corpse off of Lucien(Drawing another curse as the claws were tugged out of his flesh.). Accepting her hand to help him up, he picked up his sword even as his flesh began to heal itself. Staring at her, Lucien took off his helmet. It was useless at this point anyways. It took a few moments, but recognition flared in her eyes, masked quickly. She was the youngest of the Cowards, he remembered. Couldn't have been more than twenty at the time of their experiment, their murder of his daughter. He dropped his helmet, another cruel smile crossed his face, and he shoved his sword through her leather armor, into her heart. "I told you I would kill you all." He whispered, watching as the light left her eyes. He pulled his sword free from the corpse and continued on his way.

By the time he reached the ocean of calm where the strange being was standing, holding the sword that Hazumi had become, his armor was dented, torn, and not all of the blood that was on it came from his opponents. "Put down the sword. You don't have the right to wield it." Lucien didn't know what the being planned with it's powers, but he knew it wasn't good.

THE EMPTY LORD

IoI watched calmly as Lucien came closer to his location--not by the relation between oculars and light, but through the harmony (or lack thereof) of the original angel's actions; Especially against the demons and angels whose perishing bodies released their souls. Normally, the Empty Lord would have intervened with such affairs, as his faithful followers had said 'no original lives must be lost.' That was then, as now the transcendent being knew exactly where these slain creations were going.

Lucien approached on the dilapidated Red Square, the space between him and this 'unknown obstacle' only measuring up a few yards. By now, the Empty Lord's dark, smoky wisps numbered just shy of a hundred and had begun to wander farther and farther away, in circular semi-random paths. Additionally, light and shadow in the area were having an awfully hard time working, but visibility and hiding was still somewhat possible. Not that the original angel would have any need for subterfuge, now would he? Ioi certainly didn't have any need for stealth.

There was no pretense here, just sheer desire manifested in their forms of people, but then... Ioi spoke.

The tone, gentle but firm, was evident. His raspy, lingering voice knew no equal in presentation, as well, for every person in Loom would hear it. Perfectly. All other aural sources temporarily muted as he spoke to the original angel. Indeed, no barrier, be it physical, language, or dumb understanding, stopped Ioi from addressing every element in his plan. He spoke to the innermost core of a person's essence, bypassing all mental safeguards and defenses. Additionally, knowledge was imputed to all listeners: the name, that is, eye-oh-eye, IoI, the Empty Lord, who knew them, and the understanding of what Lucien was saying to him.

Repeating, everyone would hear what Ioi said to Lucien and why.

"What you already believe," he warned everyone, pausing deliberately, "will determine what you shall believe next."

His face lowered slightly, his pupil-less, purple eyes examining the blade before looking back up at Lucien. "I will not, although I have no intention to wield it," Ioi declared, hinting that he would only give the sword to someone who meets his standards for worthiness.

"More shall come judging," he added, lowering the sword so that its tip tapped the ground, and he spoke no more.

Ioi's attention to Lucien then shifted, as though someone unseen was talking to him. A very subtle nod and dimming of his eyes confirmed some request. Without further cue, several blue, semi-transparent rectangles, full of multiplying cubes, appeared on the Empty Lord's left side--the strange manifestations faded, leaving their passengers on the ground, all of their eyes closed that then opened in sync. The lot consisted of a short, bearded old man, a tall spiffy gentleman with a top hat, two lovely ladies in elegant dresses (one more extravagant than the other), and a single petite girl with a strange 'gray' composition, spiky hair, and eerie stare. All, save for the gray girl, turned toward Ioi, bidding him thanks--one of the ladies even squeezed his hand. Then they all departed from the Red Square by various means: running with demonic swiftness, empowered jumping and parkour, and then the old man just simply meandered out of sight, sipping some delightful tea.

The gray girl, known as the Reclaimer, gave Lucien one interested look before blinking and turning her gaze skywards. Wingless, her body flew straight up into the sky above the Red Square, leaving Ioi seemingly alone. But he was not. Kneeling behind him, an unseen being stretched her long, soft white wings outwards past Ioi's sides. Then standing, her wings docked as she brushed a strand of chestnut hair over her ear and came to Ioi's left side. He glanced at her, seeing her body trembling as her dour demeanor fought her will to lift her eyes. But she finally did, looking on the other original angel before her, Lucien. She swallowed, shuddering as she took another step forward as her lord watched her.

"Lucien... y-you are alive," she breathed, clasping her shaky hands together in front of her.

She stopped, a mere 10 feet from Lucien. "It's me... Ilana. Do you remember?" she asked him with bemusement, and a bit of excitement.

---

A closet door opened, and out stepped Poe Medeth Kasteny, former CEO. Behind him, nestling his arm like a lady, was a strangely familiar woman who resembmled Hazumi and Aeris. Of course, only one person here would realize that. Glancing up at her taller escort, the woman let go of Poe and slowly came up to Mairyell, putting a hand on his shoulder as she looked into his eyes. The top-hatted demon went into the other room to meet up with Julian and Mary.

"Oh, my son..." she whispered, joy and fear twisted together in her throat.

Tears welled up as she put her other hand on him. They rolled down as she blinked, looking him up and down at how he had grown since he was a child. She was certainly impressed, albeit she could sense the taint in him that once plagued her, leading her to her 'death'...

"You've changed so much, Mai," she cooed sweetly, then chuckling nervously as she attempted to caress his cheek.

Plot, meet twist: Layna Grace Kasio, mother of two.

Elsewhere in the house, Poe reached the last step and sighed. Carefully moving about, he deduced where Mary and Julian were, their heartbeats a nearly muted sound in the background. Entering the doorway, the usually jovial Poe's face tugged downwards, somber and remorseful, as his stoic gaze fell upon Mary and Julian. He took off his huge top hat.

"You lot ought to leave Loom soon. If transportation is required, well, it's only a doorknob away," Poe explained, tapping the door's knob, "I would take you two anywhere you'd like that has a door, yes, any structure in all the world."

"No charge," he added, almost humorously.

---

With the Vampire now gone to grab his friends and ready them for their escape, Solus pulled his keys out of his left coat pocket and moved towards his car, intent on finally meeting Szayeis for the first time, but as he did so, something changed. A massive explosion of pure essence rumbled in the distance, and even Solus with his terrible human senses could smell the purest, untainted essence his nostrils ever felt. But who could have such a clean and holy soul? And so much bottled in power that it would shatter the surroundings like that? Solus reminisced for a moment, emptily staring down at the keys in his hand. Sifting through the lore and knowledge that he studied over the years.

His eyes widened as the realization hit him like a bullet train. "The Archangels..." He mumbled out. He was excited, finally the corrupt Council was falling apart, but at the same time he was worried. Without the Council, and the Angels being humanity's 'Protectors', what chances of survival did mankind have now? To Solus, those chances were pretty fucking low.

He took another step towards his car, only to stop again as something else reverberated through his very essence. It was like a calling, a faint signal pulling him towards somewhere. He felt like he absolutely needed to be there, that it was his duty to be there... No. The Necromaster thought to himself as he pushed the feeling aside. For all he knew it could be another of Sir's mind tricks. Or perhaps an attempt at Solus' mind from another entity unknown to him.

Having had enough of loligagging about, he forced himself towards his vehicle of choice once more, opened the driver's side door and jumped in.

A good while after Solus Grim had hopped into his Mustang and drove out of Serenity Row, a low voice raped and pillaged its way through his skull. It was coming from from every angle. He glanced around the cockpit of his car, through the mirrors, and out the windows, and saw nothing. It wasn't addressed to him either, as it spoke of someone's worthiness, and seemed distant.

Grim was for the most part confused, unsure of what it all meant, and he wasn't even going to bother asking himself where it even came from.

But he had a moment to think it all over, a strange bluish manifestation rippled in the passenger seat where Rina once sat during the Battle of Thorpe. It vanished as soon as it had begun, and in its place Garnette, former demon, looked up at him. A serene visage and sated eyes captured her demeanor as she adjusted the lower ends of her dress. It felt good to see him again, and she was hoping when all was said and done, he'd let her be a memory.

Solus immediately drew his gun and pressed it against the demon's temple with supernatural speed. He didn't expect the unwanted visitor. It took him a moment to recognize her while both looking at her and back on the road ahead. "You... I didn't give you an invitation..." He growled out.

Her lips pouted lightly. "I'm sorry... it was either this, or surface-pin to the roof of your car... and you'd probably attack me just for that, wouldn't you, Solus?" she reasoned, looking away.

Solus let out a low groan of anger.

"That voice... was my master, whom I've told you about once," she whispered with a nod, "and he's returned. Actually sent me to you on errand. I've a message for Rina Genno..."

"From her uncle," she clarified, slightly squinting as she thought about the girl.

"Spill it!" The Chimera pressed the gun against the former Succubus' temple harder.

"Alright," she gasped, pulling away from the gun. Something had changed about Solus, but she couldn't pick up on it.

"Peskay Genno is one of us Iotans now and is quite safe and sound," she explained, "and this, he gave me this... paper."

Pulling a slip of paper out of her cleavage, she held it toward Solus.

He put a foot up on the steering wheel so he could keep the car straight, and grabbed the paper with his free hand. "Any sudden moves and I blow your head off." He holstered his gun and grabbed the wheel again to swerve past a fleeing family sedan. This was the last thing he needed tonight. A demon materializing in his car.

These two days have turned into a massive headache, he hasn't even slept and all sorts of shit has happened in a span of 36 hours, and now demons have invaded the city. But then again, this was just another Monday.

He opened the paper which read: 00 degrees 50 minutes North, 24 degrees 16 minutes East

"Coordinates?" Solus asked. "Where do they go?"

"Just a messenger, big guy," she sighed, shrugging. "Um, don't crash."

She gestured with her finger at a large semi truck with an empty flatbed pulling out in front of them about 20 yards away

Solus squeezed the paper into his hand and slammed his foot down on the gas. Garnette's ears would be filled with pain as the sound of metal grinding on metal surrounded her skull. The Necromaster managed to maneuver the vehicle under the flatbed of the Semi, wenging in between its wheels, its roof scratching against the bottom of the metal slab.

Suddenly he slammed the car to a stop 250 yards away from the truck him and his passenger just missed. He unholstered his weapon again and stated, "You sent your message, I believe we're finished here."

Bracing herself, Garnette sucked in air and hoped for the best. She could endure a lot of things, but that didn't mean she wanted pain. Not for her, or for anyone. A sigh of relief escaped her as they grinded to a halt. She turned her head as he spoke again, his weapon squarely aimed at her temple again. She sighed again, her shoulders slightly slumping.

"I w... was hoping to hang with you for a bit b-before I leave forever... for home," she explained, crestfallen in tone and her clearly saddened visage brought for him to bear.

Solus didn't care, and he didn't trust her either. "I don't give a damn about 'Hanging out'..." He growled out, bearing his teeth. "The city is going to shit, and last thing I need right now is some bitch distracting me with pointless horseshit." Garnette's passenger door clicked open. "So head 'home'."

She listened to him, every word he said sinking harder into her heart. She glanced at the open door, the pavement there wet with mud. But then glanced back at Solus, the barrel of his gun right over her left eye.

"If you don't want my help with anything, then so be it. Pull the trigger, Solus," she mumbled solemnly, "you've been wanting to do that ever since you've met me. So pull the trigger, it will be my last gift to you."

To help establish that, she pressed into the barrel until her eye started to feel plucked.

Solus kept the gun there for about there seconds, but instead of pulling the trigger, he said "PIR.". Suddenly it felt like the interior of the car exploded, and Garnette was flung out of the open door. It was just a harmless shockwave, she would be fine. Solus slammed the door shut before she had a chance to get back in again. And put the pedal to the metal, speeding away and leaving the demoness in his rear view mirror, quickly turning into a tiny dot in his vision.

"Fuck, I'm getting old." He said to himself. He hesitated back there, could have ended her just like that. But he didn't. Whether that was a mistake would be revealed in the future, but for now he had more pressing issues to worry about.

Laying there, in the mud... Garnette rubbed her face from top to bottom, her eyes glazed over with disappointment. She felt jaded by Solus. Sure she was a former demon, and sure he had no reason to trust her. Wouldn't do well for a demon hunter to trust a demon. She felt she'd just pick a bad time. She was not like Aulder who could speak so calmly so as to render even the most bloodthirsty barbarians into diplomancy. And then, when she had the last moment to give him something he'd always wanted: to kill her, he changed his mind.

"So he is a pussy," she mumbled, before looking up into the sky.

She saw the Reclaimer (the gray girl). Closing her eyes, she whispered that she was ready. Without a moment longer, a huge gold chain zipped down to Garnette, consuming her in a flash. Fully reclaimed, the chain disappeared and the Reclaimer kept her eye on the flying Szayeis in the distance.

---

"Szayeis... master of the game, indeed," stated a loud, well-trained voice somewhere ahead of the demon lord.

In the middle of the street amongst all the choas, a very calm and stoic Aulder stood, still wearing his simple robes and rustic sandals. His beard flapped gently in the wind as he looked up at Szayeis.

"I've come to call on Aeriqi, my lord," Aulder explained, his powerful voice, empowered by Ioi, reaching out to Szayeis's mind, and even the old one.

"May he come out to play?" the former Incarnate added, stroking his beard calmly as a few people ran past him terrified of Szayeis's all consuming nature.

An Old Enemy: Part 1

“What the fuck is going on…?” Solus breathed out heavily. He was tired, and beaten. And there was a lot on his mind. So many things were happening at once in his head that it seemed like his brain would soon burn out from the strain of the past day and a half. So… Solus thought to himself. Peskay is now one of them. Those weird gimp collar wearing nuts. The only other people he knew of that wore something similar, was that Succubus who was just in his car, an Angel who Rina met while Solus was out cold, a being which knew where he lived. And an old nemesis of his, who the Necromaster hasn’t seen in a decade, Clalrian. Solus sighed out loud, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “This is one hell of day…”

He had no idea what he would tell Rina. And he didn’t know how she would react. And what were those coordinates about? All he could really do was think about something else.

He blazed down the city streets, until eventually he was forced to drive slower, as the roads were filled with bodies of the dead and the dying, totaled vehicles and damaged buildings. Occasionally there would be a civilian or two who run in the opposite direction, heading towards the edge of the city. A wise move. It made Solus consider his current decision, to blindly go into the fray. Maybe he should have just turned and headed home, and gave up, or perhaps bailed on the city entirely. He shook the thought away. That wasn’t him. A mere skirmish between the Angels and the Demons wouldn’t deter him from at least saving a few lives, or at least just one. Even with one single life saved, he would be happy, even if he was tired of this abominable job.

With a new found determination and purpose, he continued on. The conditions of the city got worse as he went deeper into the city, collapsed buildings all around, with no life what so ever in sight. This is something he hoped he wouldn’t have to see, but now he knew, that his future, his prophecy, was gradually coming true.

In the distance, he saw a large black object blocking the path ahead, Solus knew that beyond whatever that thing was, the thing that faintly called for him, and perhaps everyone else in the city, had to be there. He slowed down even more, forcing the car against its will into a crawl. Gently passing the rubble and bodies that were laid out ahead of him. Slowly inching closer to the black wall. Finally he could see a little clearer. Way ahead in the distance, standing along the perimeter of the wall where several faint figures, they walked along the bottom and along the top of the 20 foot wall like on patrol. And from the silhouettes, Solus could just barely pick out that they were armed. “The military…?” The Necromaster asked himself quizzically. If it was, perhaps there was a glimmer of hope for this dammed city. Despite all the destruction that surrounded the man’s perspective, it was eerily quiet, and safe. Maybe these men ahead have dealt with most of the conflict on this side of the city. Hence the erected barricade to contain the rest of the fighting from the more secured sectors like this one.

Just in case those men where trigger happy, the Necromaster decided the avoid a hostile confrontation with them, and opted to bypass that gate by other means. He turned the car into an alley, nicely hidden away in the darkness. Then he locked it up, took a mental note of its location and set off on foot.

He tucked his back against the wall of the building where he parked his ride, bobbing in and out of the rubble that he was using as cover, in case one or two of the guards on the barricade were snipers. He then ran quickly across the street, and reached a tall corporate building, while still constantly watching the men on the barricade, who were about 300 yards away. He rested his back against the edge of entrance of the building, a glass turnable door that got eviscerated by gunfire, and slowly leaned his head in to look around. The reception area that the entrance lead to was a mess. Papers we strewn about and walls and furniture were filled with bullet holes and scorch marks, with a sprinkle of blood here and there. The lights on the ceiling flickered wildly as the power of the establishment fluctuated continuously. But other than that, the place seemed empty.

Regardless, Solus drew his large Beretta 93r Auto 9 Machine Pistol, or the ‘Bulletstorm’ as he liked to call it. He didn’t want to get caught off guard. He stepped in slowly, carefully watching his footing so as to not step on the loose glass and cause any noise. Stealth wasn’t Solus’ forte, so sneaking around like this was always the most tense part of any job, though this wasn’t really a job. More like an attempt to sate his curiosity, which made this that much more tense. His gun’s iron sights followed his sight as he surveyed the area. He tapped into his being as tried to sense for anything supernatural, or natural for that matter, as he slowly walked towards the elevator that lead to the top floor. 42 stories up.

He reached the two chrome doors, that weren’t so pristine like they used to be only 25 minutes ago. Solus took note of that, the time this all started and how long it took him to get here. Whatever happened in this place, happened fast. He pushed on the ‘call’ button, but there was no response. He then pushed it a few more times, same result. “Dead…” The Necromaster mumbled out, disappointed. He didn’t really know what he expected, but it was worth a try anyway. “The stairs then…”

He turned towards the staircase, only to reach it and almost lose all hope. The whole thing had collapsed, not even a few steps remained. So he turned back to the elevator again. If he could pry the doors open, perhaps he would find a maintenance ladder within the shaft.

He drew one of his swords, and jammed it into the gap between the two doors. He then used all his weight to pull the blade to one side, forcing the doors open just enough to slide both his hands in. He sheathed his sword and placed his hands into the gap, getting a good hold on both doors, and then forcing them apart, making the gap large enough for him to shimmy in. He instinctively look up as he pushed his head in, there were a few lights in the shaft that still functioned. They dimly illuminated the shaft all the way to the top. “That’s a long climb.” Solus remarked as he looked around for the ladder he initially set out to find.

Something else caught his attention though, and that was the smashed elevator down below. It must have crumpled up like a paper cup when it landed at the bottom, 3 stories below Solus’ feet, where the underground parking area took its residence in this building’s floor plan. The Chimera hoped no one was in that thing when it decided to add ‘Hell’ as one of its many options on the floor selection panel.

He pushed the doors even further apart, almost opening them completely. “There you are…” He stated, with the service ladder now in his sights. It was all the way across from him. He took a few steps back, and then ran towards the open elevator shaft, leaping all the way across towards the ladder. His body slammed against it with a clang as he grabbed a hold of it. He secured his grip and footing on the holds, and began to climb.

As he climbed he noticed that at the 5th Floor another elevator shaft perpendicular to the one Solus was in appeared. His hope of reaching that damn roof quickly rose, but only for a short moment until his negativity completely shattered it. He doubted the elevator in that shaft worked, but who knew…

It was when he reached the 11th Floor, when he noticed that the ladder was starting to warp and the metal holds became more twisted and damaged. He stopped and looked. The ladder was split in half and the cleave ended about 2 more stories above. During its fall, the elevator must have grinded against that side of the shaft, and tore the ladder apart, from floor 29 to floor 13. Damn it.It seemed like fate was trying to impede him from finding out what was happening.

Solus sighed heavily. This was taking forever. Maybe he should have just charged at that barricade head on instead of looking for a way around.

He began to look for other options, and saw that the doors on the 12th Floor have been completely blown off. If he was careful, he could climb up and continue heading up to the roof, if there was any way up to the roof from there to begin with.

Solus climbed up that one extra floor, and then stepped onto a small ledge that wrapped around all four walls. It protruded out only by 6 inches, which left a lot to be desired of this foothold. He shuffled along it slowly, being cautious of where he placed his feet. Unfortunately the ledge ended short before the doorway, and the Necromaster had no other option but to jump, and at an awkward angle. Fate added that in for shits.

“Here goes.”

Solus jumped alongside the wall towards his open escape. Trying to catch a ledge that was 90º to the right of you tended to be a suicidal notion, but luckily he managed to get his arms over the ledge all the way up to the elbows. Unfortunately the marble floor slid him along until he slammed head first into the doorframe. His legs dangled out in the shaft as he scrambled up into the 12th Floor entrance, crawling out on all fours. Finally, some solid ground. He let out a sigh of relief as he stood up and began to dust himself off, only to be greeted by the sound of a dozen assault rifles being loaded, and seeing about 7 different laser dots on his chest. The other 5 were probably on his head.

He looked up towards the assailants. They were all in dressed in black ballistic armor. They wore no emblems and were unmarked. The eye holes of their gas masks glowed with a bright blue light. Each of them held G36C Assault Rifles with under-slung grenade launchers. They said nothing as they watched the Necromaster stare them down with surprise.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!”

Collab:
Mikael and Yoshua171

Twists of Fate

Stopping in his tracks, Mairyell felt some foreign presence, enter his mind and promptly deliver to him a message. It didn't feel personal, in fact, he could tell it was a broadcast of sorts, something that everyone ought to have heard. So as demons and angels raged in mortal combat outside the apartment complex, Mairyell shook off the sensation and trudged into the apartment. As he did however, another individual made their entrance, a certain familiar top hat wearing man.

Poe Medeth Kasteny, the one who had taken Caeldrin. His eyes briefly began shifting to a crimson coloration before he took a deep breath...and it caught in his throat. A woman came into his sight, but not just any woman, one that looked exactly identical to his mother. His dead mother, or so he had thought.

She walked to him and while there was only gentleness and love in those eyes, he took a step back and blood exuded from his body, attempting to strike at her. It fell short, unable to find its mark, and instead froze and shattered, clattering over the floor before gently flowing back to him where it was absorbed. He couldn't do this.

It was too much. He'd lost too many. He'd seen too much. He'd done too much.

How could she be...alive. He'd gone to her funeral. He remembered it like it was yesterday, even though he'd been so young. He remembered trying to hold back tears and failing. He remembered the kindness begin to seep from his father's expression as he kissed her head one last time and walked to the car, forgetting his son.

Mairyell had almost had to walk home that night.

He remembered it very clearly.

Yet here she was, standing before him, as beautiful, as loving, and as wonderful as she had always been in his eyes. His eyes that had now turned completely blue, but were glowing different colors, one red, and one purple. He was stunned, he didn't know what to do. He couldn't bring himself to hurt her, even if she only looked like his mother.

Even after all he'd been through and all the terrible betrayals he and Aeris had gone through he couldn't.

So he just stood there, a mixture of anxiety, fear, and utter shock on his face as he stared at her and tried to speak.

“Wha-...who are you....”

Layna lowered her hands as Mairyell broke away from her, clearly scared and confused. She'd been expecting such reactions more or less, but her blue eyes, much like Mairyell's when his vampiric taint didn't shift their colors, narrowed slightly as he was about to assault her with blood somehow. Nevertheless, her face remained loving, her sad smiling lips stretched slightly in understanding. No attempt to evade registered in her nerves--as far as she was concerned, he could hurt her in every way if it made him feel better. And she would still love him forever after.

As he calmed himself, if it could be called that because she could sense his strong emotions rippling under the surface, she took another step forward. Their height difference made it very easy for her to look up into him. Tucking a stray strand of light auburn hair, which nearly matched Aeris's, Layna raised her hands, gesturing for patience on his part.

"Mairyell... I know this is confusing, it must be," she began, her voice quivering, "but I am your mother... no, look at me, son."

She moved her head, her gaze trying to stay locked with his. "It's okay to be confused... even angry. Wouldn't have stopped you from hitting me..."

Clearing her throat, she looked down. "But I am here now, Mairyell. I won't force you to have anything to do with me... but I would," she paused, looking up, her face fragile as thin ice, "like to be part of your life."

She searched his eyes, looking at the left one, then right.

His question answered again, Mairyell first felt tears forming, then anger brimming, and then a mixture of the two fighting for control. Even as she locked eyes with him, for indeed he could not look away from her, the emotions raged behind and in his eyes, their color shifting to a purple coloration. He didn't know how to feel about her being alive. He wanted to feel happy, but things were never that simple, were they?

Opening his mouth as if to speak, she did so first, implying her question and piercing deep to his heart. A heart he had tried and tried to protect from the world. Hardened and buried beneath layers of defense. Defenses that proved insufficient before the caring love of a mother, his mother. "But I...was at your funeral," he said, no longer speaking as much on a conscious level, but more on a logical one, letting his rational thought try to disprove her existence, though his heart wanted to simply accept it.

"Was...was that not you in the coffin? Where have you been all this time. Why didn't you find us...and set him straight," Mairyell said, gritting his teeth at even the slight mention of the father who he no longer considered worthy of that title. He could not grasp what was going on and why his mother, if indeed she was her, had anything to do with that madhatter of a businessman.

It just didn't click...he didn't have the proper pieces of the puzzle, but oh did he dearly want them.

---

"May he come out to play?" the former Incarnate added, stroking his beard calmly as a few people ran past him terrified of Szayeis's all consuming nature.

The lord's stolen vessels took note of the human who stood now only a short distance from his flying forms. Their glowing purple eyes, with sclera blackened, cut through the air to their target, a certain malice behind them, infused with their very essence. Angels, once their kin, pecked at the bodies with their blades and their hammers. Many weapons, none true to their mark, were torn to pieces beside the bodies of their wielders. The lord continued to fly for the figure meant little...that was until his voice pierced through all layers of protection and touched the deepest portion of the demon's chimeric mind.

The old one stirred and Szayeis shut the eyes of his stolen bodies, utilizing what little remained of their essence to quell the dark being and shut it off from his essence. The angels landed before Aulder and as they lit upon the earth once more, they began to slowly dissolve, unable to withhold the sheer dark magnificence of the lord's powerful essence. "Aeriq? Hahaha, you're an amusing one, old man." Dark tinged smoke seemed to whirl gently from the angels' mouths as they approached to a distance of three meters between they and the one who was called Aulder.

The bodies deteriorated, flesh turned to shadow, muscles melted away into a dark muck, and bones withered and were crushed into dust as the Western lord's essence coalesced into what looked a singularity before writhing out and trailing through the air vertically to gradually manifest once more the body of the Chimeric Lord of Chaos. Glancing into the eyes of the small man, the humanoid shadow donned a small toothy smirk and opened his eyes, revealing the infamous eyes of Praestrigia. Those unnaturally blue eyes stared into and through Aulder, seeming to pay him heed as they analyzed him. Then, however, they shut and the lord's form shifted and solidified back into its Original guise.

Eyeless face, horned visage, and dark armor. The ground was covered in the lord's shadow and all that came within its bounds lost themselves to its pull. "I could give him to you and your kind, Aulder," Szayeis said with a slight smile on his features as his shadow's diameter lessened so as not to devour the Iotan, "...but I think he would be lost to you and I have no intention of allowing that, human." The lord's feet continued to cross the ground, walking around the old man and heading to the square where the lord could feel that his salvation waited. "Bother me no more, being of strange essence, for you are plainly more than you appear to stand before one such as I. Not that you will not be attended to, mortal."

The eyes saw through all perception, for their ability to pierce illusion and surface appearance was indeed great. Nothing could trick them. So, Szayeis waved his hand and a door of shadow materialized from his own darkness, writhing into being from the ground and promptly spitting out a rather confused demon.

"Arshae, deal with this pest," the lord's smile was malicious as he continued walking, no longer feeling pressed for time. Something was changing even as he moved, and whomever it was he sensed near the object of his fascination was unlikely to impede him for long. Be it due to his own efforts, or those of some other force.

Meanwhile, the old one writhed subtly in the prison that Szayeis's chimeric mind had become. Still, the ancient hardly stirred, waiting patiently and watching through the darkness, never unaware of all that went on in the world.

Szayeis could not lock him from that.

Nor could any other.

Solid as a stone foundation, Aulder remained unfazed by the Chimeric Lord of Chaos's descent before him. Not that he wasn't scared--he was. The Iotan link to his brethren and Ioi, however, dissoluted that fear among themselves until its effect became absolutely nil. His heavy brow fell, squinting as he did whilst hearing the deep, grating voice grace his ears. And those eyes... extremely powerful, useful. Even in the brief moment when Szayeis locked eyes with him, every Iotan, including Ioi, stared back. There was no illusion or deception to be seen in Aulder, or his brethren--only the truth, from the very bottom of creation.

The old human smirked lightly as Szayeis prompted a demon of some kind to 'attend' to him. At that moment, Aulder felt an invigorating pressure on his link to the Empty Lord--despite the brief amount of time he'd gotten to know her, he knew it was the Reclaimer letting him know that she was 'there.' Which he appreciated, but he knew her role in this 'conflict' and that was not to subdue anyone.

Not yet anyway.

Glancing up at the sky, cludded with red and black energy and the sun effectively dimmed, Aulder then trained his steely gaze on Arshae, then Szayeis. The 4' 8" man then unceremonly let his head roll around, his neck cracking. He groaned lightly.

"I see. Well, great lord, it doesn't take a genius to figure out your path in this story," Aulder stated cryptically, "And now that I've gotten what I've been asked to obtain from you, some exercise will do me good."

A wild zephyr blew down on him, ruffling his beard and robe, the lapels of which he grabbed before flinging it off. He also stood up, gaining a complete 3' gain in height. His heavily muscular barrel chest and chisled arms glistened with sweat even in the dim light. A bull's snort flared his nostrils, the hot frosted air rising, as his visage dramatically shifted from a nice kindly old man to a determined herculean hulk.

He cracked his fingers, glancing over his right shoulder up at the Reclaimer high in the sky behind him and Szayeis. "I am ready," he whispered, nothing from her signalling that she'd understood him.

Turning back, his right hand's pointer and middle fingers came to his forehead together as his left hand held up his empty cup at his side. "Word, Shadow, Chaos," Aulder mumbled, sparks of purple electricity licking between his finger tips and forehead.

He then thrusted his fingers into his cup, a loud hissing steam rising out into the air. As he pulled his fingers out, it was revealed that 'liquid' appeared inside, its swirling colors represented the elements of Szayeis's powers. Drinking the contents in one go, Aulder then bent forward and spat out the liquid, except what came out was no delicious tea. A huge volume of liquid 'fire' spilled on the ground, almost alive and both moving like water, but seeking to consume like fire. Some of it also moved toward Aulder's legs as his mouth remained wide open, letting out copious amounts of the strange hybrid element. Then with an upward thrust of his hand, the volume of liquid fire lifted him up into the air in front of Szayeis, effectively blocking his aerial path. It was like a thin tornado was wrapped around the aged Iotan's feet, its base much larger than its top where he remained. And with this liquid fire, the dimmed settings accentuated Aulder's presence, as though he was a bright light in the weeping darkness.

"Send your minion away, Szayeis," Aulder shouted, his voice echoing like thunder, "Your fight is with me for the time being, and my ally will simply rip them from your grasp."

In the distance, the Reclaimer's gray composition temporarily flickered golden with strong photonic rays before turning dull again. Down below, however, the liquid fire continued spreading, and yet burned nothing. Heat did not come off of it, for its chosen fuel was not yet in reach. But it would be soon: burning shadows that bring proportionately increasing pain and torment unto its wielder. Aulder glowered, his left hand holding out his white cup, its mouth pointing skyward. A shock wave blew his hair and trousers wildly as a giant jet-stream of the very same liquid fire, somehow retaining a wavy blade-like shape, erupted out of the cup, reaching a towering length of 10 yards.

The Iotan brandished it before Szayeis, the movement of the air hissing and cracking. "As you speak, so shall your senses dull to your surroundings. As your shadows consume, so gorged shall become my flames that eat them. As chaos spreads in Loom, your willpower will drain until even spineless cowards tower over you," he pronounced solemnly.

"That is your curse for today, hellscum," he added with a growl, "and it shall end with your absolute retreat. Today death will ignore you, for my lord Ioi expects your growth in the seasons to come."

And Aulder said no more, whilst the Reclaimer in the distance continued waiting to see what the Lord of Chaos would do with his minions.

His initial disinterest in the human made clear, the lord did in fact take note as the essence's body changed and the fire began to emit from the old human's mouth. He took no mind to it.

It was only when the wall of fire rose before him and Aulder's challenge materialized that Szayeis took action.

The first thing to go was his avatar, who promptly found himself devoured by the lord's shadow. "Useless," he said, sighing, "Expendable...replaceable tool." He had not made them arbitrarily, in fact it had been a preparation for counters such as this. Sighing the lord let his head fall as he continued to take deep breaths so as not to lose his focus or his cool. As his breathing continued, its sound intensified, beginning to reverberate harshly through the atmosphere as it became more and more expansive.

The air seemed to become drier, though moisture remained. The light dulled, though its intensity never waned. Even the burning luminescence of the fire continued to dim and brighten as it was drained and replenish. It would gradually become harder and harder to breath and then, as things reached a point of great tension Szayeis raised his hand and retracted the chaos that had been gathering within Loom's bounds. More would reform the chaos field regardless, so why not draw from it now.

As he did so, the lord took in one more breath and his form shifted down two whole feet as its appearance became human once more and the lord smiled up at the tea maker. “You know, for a moment there I considered using Shattered path. Didn't think it'd be a good idea tho-...” ”You are wasting my time.” Their surroundings seemed to shudder in response to the airy, ethereal tones of the old one's voice.

The maddening eyes were wide with terror as the voice that was not his spilled from Szayeis' mouth. Overtaken by shock, the lord was unable to stop the being from uttering a few more cursed phrases.

“Unbidden, you dare stand before even a vessel of my essence in your blasphemous, boring visage. Move aside, lest I violate your mind, nay, your soul, and rip it from that which revolves.” As Aulder's empowered voice would touch all levels, the old one's mere utterance pierced and violated all that it contacted, making even the earth seem to writhe in primal agony.

Szayeis' eyes then focused and narrowed, becoming slits for a brief moment as nearly all the lord's concentration forced the old one back down through the many layers that it had gently pried open and infiltrated, allowing itself to emerge as it just had. Still, the lord did not suppress it fully and so, while the lord focused, his body moved not of his volition and aimed a single finger upwards directly at the human's very core.

The unutterable words emanated and the old one's mind briefly touched Aulder's, unreadable despite its direct contact with the Iotan's essence and thus the essence of his master and all of their connected might. Then, without warning, his being was rejected by the essence and it removed itself from contact.

Szayeis dropped to his knees in agony as the vibration increased and changed pitch, tearing into the very shadows that surrounded and making them manifest to physicality. Intentionally they made contact with the flaming wall and as they did, the flames themselves began to be eaten from within.

Something older was at work.

Something that predated them both.

Lucien and Ioi Collab

Lucien's eyes narrowed as the thing refused his demand. So. It would come to a fight then. Which was to be expected, considering the power that the sword possesed. He didn't beleive for a moment that IoI wouldn't use it for his own gain. Too much power, too easily accessed. Without another word, he tightened his grip on his sword and was about to rush forward, when the rectangles appeared. Uncertain, Lucien stopped and waited. That's when people appeared. They looked to be humans, but Lucien's senses told him they were stronger than your average human. Far stronger. Other than that, his senses were unable to tell him, with so many Demons and Angels and Ioi's strange essence crowding around him, he couldn't spare the concentration to pin down what they were.

As the final one to leave stared at him, Lucien stared warily back, sword at the ready. What was she? And then she was gone. Flying into the air... with no wings. Glancing back downwards, Lucien saw that there was another. An Angel, judging from the wings. She was familiar...very familiar. Her entire body trembled as she walked forward, finally meeting his eyes.

Lucien very nearly dropped his sword.

Ilana. Did he remember her? Of course he remembered her. He remembered all of those who spoke against the Cowards. Those who didn't believe their lies, who helped him lay her to rest. And they were all dead. Silenced by Demons or by the Cowards. This was a trick. A lie.

"You're supposed to be dead. Along with all the rest. Killed by Demons or silenced by the Cowards for speaking against them. Yours was the first voice to disappear, the beginning of the silence. It's a surprise that I'm alive? Imagine how much of one to learn that you're alive. Now, who is this friendly purple freak calling himself Ioi?" He said this all quite calmly and steadily. For the most part. Anyone who didn't know Lucien wouldn't have caught the too rigid of control he had, speaking of just how badly seeing Ilana alive had shaken him.

Ilana crept closer, nodding her head understandingly as he spoke the truth. She kept her hands in front of her where he could see them, and stopped just inside his sword range. He would now be able to hear her slightly shallow breath, her nerves truly rattled and scared. But why? Would not such a reunion be wonderful? Perhaps in another setting, but now... everything was so chaotic, which was such a severe understatement that clusterfuck wouldn't even fix it.

She glanced over at Ioi as Lucien mentioned him, then turned back. "Lucien, you're right. I am supposed to be dead..." she began, breathing a little steadier, "but that freak over there? He saved me... opened my eyes to a whole new world veiled between Heaven and Hell, and all in between..."

She paused, "and yet, he wanted nothing from me in return. But now I serve him willingly, because after that awful council... Lucien, I needed the change."

Ilana licked her lips, stepping a bit closer. "When I realized he was speaking to you, I just had to come here. See for myself. Lucien... you've changed so much, and yet... you are still the same stalwart truth-sayer amongst us all. Ioi is a truth-sayer as well..."

She searched Lucien's eyes, practically breathing his exhaled breath. "But he is right: more people will come, proclaiming they are worthy of the sword and others not so much. You know the truth, Lucien. And my lord is only here to insist the power is passed on to someone responsible, who won't destroy our worlds. He will not take it for himself, for there is a greater enemy ahead of us all, more terrible than any rampaging demonic abomination or cowardly powerhungry angel. Wielding the sword would make him stand out like a beacon. He invites you to that future conflict, either as follower or ally."

Taking a step back, she let out a long sigh, looking down as she finished what she had to say. She truly hoped that Lucien would consider what she'd spoken and trust her, if not her lord. Just as well, she hoped he'd hurry, for her time was short before Ioi would call them all back.

Just then, three roaring demons leapt from the shadows, attempting to slice the two original angels to ribbons. But breaking the silence was all that they managed to accomplish, for in the air at both of Lucien's sides the demons squirmed desperately against an invisible force that hogtied them. A moment later, the force was revealed as several dozen black chains emerged before their eyes, leading back towards Ioi; specifically just one of his wisps that apparently was serving as guard duty.

Ioi wasn't even looking in their general direction, but at some disgusting spectacle in the distance near the looming shadows and fire. But no matter, the demons were subdued and three of the chains transmuted into manacles, which then opened with claw-like enthusiasm and cuffed the hellscum by their necks. They vanished instantly, shrinking down somewhere via bluish dividing squares.

Ilana returned her impressed gaze to Lucien, patiently waiting for him.

Lucien watched her warily. She spoke like Ilana, acted like Ilana, even her essence felt like Ilana. Yet he knew that she was dead. The Cowards and the Demons don't just let Angels who they want dead go. The only reason he wasn't executed is because a clairvoyant spoke of a part he would play in the coming battles. No one else had that...advantage, if it could be called one. Say what he will about the Cowards, Lucien knew they were efficient, and powerful. Ilana was dead. This wasn't her.

Still, he listened as she spoke, of how she willing gave her servitude, how there was apparently a far greater threat about to rise and that Ioi was inviting him to fight against it. Lucien couldn't help but notice how 'follower' was put in front of 'ally'. The message was quite clear. Ioi was little better than the Cowards, ruling over people as if he were a God. Even if he did give them a choice. As she moved ever closer, his body grew ever more tense. Whether it was from the shock of seeing 'Ilana' again or because he expected her to try and kill him at any second was unclear.

Regardless, his head snapped over to the Demons roaring at them, sword ready to spill more of the hated enemy's blood. When they were suddenly..stopped. Something that Lucien couldn't see was capturing them, holding them against their wills. That thing was revealed to be chains. Chains that rapidly dragged them down through a square. It was a display of power, though it was unclear if the display came from Ioi's inherent abilities or the abilities of the sword.

Turning his head back towards Ilana, he finally spoke. "Are you done? I don't know who or what you are, but you're not Ilana. She died, years upon years ago. You are not her. You're an imposter. She wouldn't have given her servitude to that..thing."

Ilana gasped, the pain wrenching into her heart before Lucien has even finished his retort. Her hands balled up into little fists, pointing up as her arms remain rigidly down--even her wings ruffled visibly, struggling to remain still as the temptation to fly away nearly broke her willpower. Sputtering, much like she used to do when confounded or flustered, Ilana wiped her free tears from her face with her forearm, her eyes blurred away.

"I, I guess that kiss we, that we shared before you went off and, and married her wasn't, was not real either, huh?" she spat at him, both regretting her outburst and feeling relieved.

Her real reason for being afraid of Lucien? Having been rejected once by him for another woman--a fairer, mightier angel whose skill matched Lucien's--she knew the risk of approaching him again. Though it was not purely done for love, she'd hope their reunion would foster a better relationship to steer them toward the future.

She felt Ioi's pressure on her core; it was gentle but firm, merely letting her know that he was there for her. She knew that--very intimately so--and was grateful. But she refused to let her emotions diffuse amongst her brethren. At least not yet. This was her burdern to bear right now. For Lucien.

She took a step back, letting her gaze hang on him a second longer as she half-turned, wondering if he was really rejecting her again.

Lucien visibly recoiled at her words, his black wings flaring into the air behind him. No one knew that. No one but Ilana and himself, and while an imposter may have been able to claim her memories, there were plenty of other ways that an imposter could have claimed to be her. But to use that specific one..she wasn't an imposter. Couldn't be. No one was that good of an actor, even if they managed to get her habit of sputtering down correctly. For the first time in his rather long life, Lucien was speechless, conflicting emotions scattering across his face.

She was alive. The Cowards and he were not the only remnants of the Original Angels. She was serving a new creature. Something that did not bode well for the worlds, even if he claimed to want to protect them from a powerful new foe. She was alive. She had survived the burning of Heaven and the betrayal of the Cowards, while he was trapped in onyx unable to do anything but rage uselessly at the Cowards and their motives. She had stopped serving one group who liked to think they were Gods for one thing who likes to think he was a God.

The urge to go to her and the wariness of what her new master would require of her warred. On the one hand, he was extremely relieved, even joyous, that she was alive. On the other, he was extremely suspiscious and wary of what her master would have her do. Kill him when he approached her? There were enough holes in his armor to slip a blade through. Several lifetimes of paranoia waged with the knowledge that he wasn't the only one left. The only one that wasn't a Coward.

Eventually one beat out the other. "Wait." He called, bringing his wings back down, as she began to turn away. Three steps later and he had an armored arm hugging her to him, his sword hand still ready in case any Demons or other enemies arrived. "I thought you were dead." He whispered.

He pulled her to him. Heart rate rising.

His hand seized her own. Eyes rapidly blinking.

His voice tickled her ears. Her throat closed, tongue muted.

His heart drummed in sync. Eyes staring, fused to his.

Desire overcame her. Ilana leaned up, kissing Luicen's battle-grimy mouth fully, deeply.

Nothing else existed so very untwisted as the relishing relief raking over her, head to wing to toe.

A moment later, a voice gently interrupted them, revealing Ioi to have moved somehow behind them, his back to Lucien. "In one single gesture and word, you have exemplified my cause. Remember that, Lucien, and wield her, for honor."

Again anyone would hear his voice, know his words.

Half-turned to the original angel's left shoulder, Ioi's left hand held out the Sword by its handle. Ilana instinctively backed up a bit, glancing between the two, but her right golden wing remained sheltering Lucien's left black one. His black, crystal adorned hand rose between them, the pommel slipping into Lucien's free hand. Assuming that he'd take it, the Empty Lord retracted his hand, but an invisible, significant pull singed at his palm. It came to a point where Ioi had to noticeably grunt with effort to continue bringing his hand towards him, which suddenly unleashed a shockwave behind him that crumbled an empty building. Ilana blanched, barely hiding her gasp as her wings braced against the disturbed dust.

Unfazed, he glanced at them. "The conflict and elements in Loom's equation do not involve me any longer," he stated cryptically, "and under a lodestar, your survival will flourish, Lucien."

"Until the Next," Ioi whispered, nodding ever so subtly at the original angel before turning away and walking off.

Ilana stared after her lord, not knowing him to 'walk' anywhere. But through her link with him, she knew she was allowed to stay with Lucien for a bit longer. Looking down, turning her head toward Lucien, she licked her lips, the taste having lingered. Her eyes flitted up to him as she stood taller, prouder. Happier.

"Complicated, I know... but translated? You resonate well with him, Lucien, but he is leaving strategically while still leaving behind assistance ... for you," she explained, just as Ioi vanished out of sight and returned to Iota.

Lucien was caught unprepared by the kiss. He was overjoyed that she was alive, certainly. but he had thought that any affections between them had been buried long ago. Before his daughter had been born, before she had been executed, before Heaven had burned to the ground. Thus, when she kissed him, he froze. For a brief moment, he thought of his deceased wife. A feeling of betrayal and guilt went through him until he thought about her. She was dead. There was no changing that. And she would scorn him if she knew that he was ruining Ilana and his own chances at happiness, freedom from hate, because of someone dead.

So for only a brief moment, he froze. And then he returned the kiss.

At Ioi's words, he turned around, warily. Even if Ilana trusted him, Lucien didn't. He only nodded, and took the offered sword. It had been far easier than he expected, to gain this sword. He had expected a fight. A battle. Not...whatever this situation had become. Around them, Angels and Demons still tore each other apart, each determined to exterminate the other. They didn't even notice Ioi destroying the building. Lucien wasn't sure if it was on accident or not.

And then he sensed them. The Cowards. Their Council Dogs. The Fleshshaper. Hatred rose in him, blotting out any other thought. They were responsible for his daughter's death. They had turned his life into hell, burned his home. They must die. But, he couldn't figure out how to free them from the sword, and somehow doubted he had the time to. They were safe from his wrath. For now.

Reluctantly, Lucien sheated the sword Hazumi had become..or rather, tried to. It didn't want to be put away, not used. For a few moments, he struggled with it. The sword's will was strong. But so was Lucien's. "Damn it stop fighting!" He snarled under his breath. And then, to his great surprise, the sword did. It stopped resisting, and allowed itself to be sheathed with a piece of it breaking off in the process, unbeknownst to him, and fading away as if it was made of dust.

As Ilana spoke he glanced down at her, a small smile on his face. He didn't trust Ioi. But she did, so he wouldn't immediately stab the creature on site. "What kind of assistence? Who, or what?"