Pandemonium: that was all that lay before him. Souta, so amazed that he stopped in his tracks momentarily, could only think of MOBA’s he’s seen played at various points in his young adulthood. When a teamfight began in such a game, the screen became filled with so many flashes, colors, and movements, coupled with an unintelligible cacophony of sound, that he lost all track of what was going on. The riotous scene unfolding before him was that times a hundred. His eyes darted left and right, up and down, trying to make sense of the unfettered chaos that was an open battle. For the first time he really realized that Gilgamesh’s engagements were more skirmishes than anything, and that for all its pretention about bringing humanity into league with the other powers, it was essentially a guerilla force. This was what heaven and hell could do when they pulled out all the stops. Even more incredibly, it was his task to wade through that mess to enter the mausoleum. It wasn’t as if there was a teeming horde covering every inch of soil, but it would be no easy feat for a mere man. Souta’s floodgates opened and adrenaline began to flow, kickstarting him into action. With one final whistle, he summoned Deluge to his off hand and ran forward.

Immediately, a pack of Scarecrows noticed the new intruder, but they were far enough apart so that when they launched into a murderous sprint toward him, they did not arrive at the same time. Souta slid to a stop and waited, his gun leveled, as one of the bladed demons bore down upon him. Its blade rose, flashing in the sunlight, and with nary a moment to spare the smith pulled the trigger. A spike of fused fire jammed straight into the Scarecrow’s head with enough force to lay it out, falling backward as it flew forward to skid right up to its shooter. Souta’s hammer was already on the way, and with a workman’s precision he nailed the fire spike he’d just inserted, and it exploded in a geyser of flame. He jerked back as it blew the Scarecrow apart, sending a plume upward, and he wasted no time shooting straight into it. The spike lit up as it passed through the flame, and though it missed the next target, it detonated a split-second later in the midst of the incoming crowd, throwing them in different directions. One staggered in his direction and, in the spirit of his native Japan’s favorite sport, Souta reeled back and let his hammer fly like a baseball bat. Shrieking, the demon found a second wind, and kicked out with its bladed leg to cut into Souta’s unprotected back. In a spray of green mist, a skeleton appeared from the smith’s sepulchral hammer, blocking with its own body long enough for its summoner to turn and strike again. This time the Scarecrow stayed down, leaving only three left. All at once, the remaining trio surged at him in a mad hopping run.

Krak, krak, krak! Three fire spikes embedded into the ground in an arc, causing the demons to hesitate. A moment was all Souta needed. Deluge, running on empty, disappeared and was replaced by a Trawler. Grinning, Souta inserted the warhammer Escre into the bottom of the hook, and with a hefty swing the makeshift flail swung into the Scarecrows from the side one after another. The momentum carried it around again, revolving like a lasso and with every strike the hammer made another ghostly skeleton appear to gouge at the unfortunate demon’s soft parts with its bony fingers. In a matter of moments, the Scarecrows were wiped out, and Souta reeled in his weapon to detach it. Working quickly, he banished the Trawler and made his gun reappear, then slipped Escre into a groove along the top of the weapon’s barrel. Immediately Deluge’s inner blue fire turned green. Though he was proud on the inside, and hoped the others got an idea of his ingenuity from this first little fight, Souta knew there was no time to waste and prepared to advance again.

Henry began to fire ice spikes at some of the new enemies, however they had quickly taken out most of the angels so it was really up to Akoni to take out the big guy. And he delivered as he had grabbed the orb thingy and channeled all its power into a powerful blast towards the Hatred. Henry just focused in keeping the mobs off of Alibi and the Champion, he knew he wasn't quite the hard hitter of the group. So he wouldn't try to be, he would just keep the annoyances handled.

As though emerging from underwater, the distant sounds of battle that had suffused the march through the forest came into sharp relief the moment the group of three reached the battlefield.

The beast that walked with the human and the demoness only allowed itself a moment to scan the scene, a moment to see the maddened charge and retreat of demons and angels that brought to its mind scenes of a frothing wave, before it threw itself into the current with a snarl.

It did not wait for the command of she whom he had gifted the right. That had been given when the Imp had confirmed their objective, and there was little doubt in the beast’s mind or instincts that the key the demoness wished for would be found inside the besieged mausoleum.

It could not have stopped were that not the case, regardless. Fenn had been forced to reign himself in when the angels had threatened his chosen Warleader, and this new outlet to his aggression was too attractive. The call of the battleground was much too strong.

The Hellhound plowed through the back ranks of demons pouring into the field. It killed with its weight and its jaws. Blood coated the inside of its mouth when its fangs found the amphibian heads of the small monsters before him. Innards coated the ground when tree trunk arms fell over them as though it was stepping on frogs. No flames escaped its blackened scales even then. It had been told to restrain itself, after all, and this command had not yet been lifted.

Fenn’s loping run quickly overtook the pace of the current.

It was unavoidable. Even as the Angels sought to fortify the Mausoleum, they could not so rapidly cede ground to the demons without breaking formation. A large enough crack would result in a massacre. The demons were slipping past the openings they made, but many ended up tied down in the skirmishes surrounding the structure, slowing the tide. Such thoughts of battle did penetrate the red haze of the obsidian giant’s mind—and this fact was a trait that had made him the deadliest in his prime—but were quickly discarded when deemed unimportant. Those on the path could barely penetrate its scales, never mind block its advance.

A pair of Assault that managed to clamber onto his back quickly came to regret it when steel snakes split from the beast’s arms and constricted around them, unyielding bodies crushing their limbs. Angels that saw the savage hesitated, for what could the obsidian giant be but another monster come to take their lives? Then they aimed their weapons at him, but their arrows of light were answered by the terrified screeches of the monsters held in chains when they were brought to the fore as shields. Those winged soldiers that dared approach were tossed away in great sweeps of his arms strong enough to shatter stone, and that was a great mercy in the eyes of the giant, for he wished to do worse.

The beat of larger wings entered his ears as he caught sight of an Orto—exotic meat—and its rider wheeling around for another pass at the monsters below. The chains still holding the smaller demons writhed and twisted before snapping into the air, tossing the creatures up towards the flying beast.

A surprised cry escaped the winged creature when its rider forced it to swerve, and the blast of holy energy that would have crashed against the hound instead seared the monsters just in front of him and raised a plume of dust.

Fenn did not slow for a moment, his large body sweeping the cloud away with his passage in his charge to the mausoleum.

Impressive, Lily thought, watching Souta proceed into the fighting. Even without his Firebrand active, he still managed to cause quite a lot of havoc. Minor demons they may have been, but they were still demons. For him to be able to wade into the mess that was on front of them was not small achievement. She didn't fight the smile that spread across her lips.

They had wandered for a good while before coming to the edge of the fighting, pushing through the tangled undergrowth with Fenn providing the primary source of their progress. Say what one would about him, but being as large as an elephant with teeth and claws certainly had its advantages in environments such as this. They had only just arrived at the battlefield and were supposed to watch and observe before going in. Or so Lily had believed. She hadn't gotten to suggest her plan of action before Souta had already entered the fray, and while she appreciated his enthusiasm she couldn't quite help but think that he was being a bit too reckless. There were, after all, demons and angels battling it out, but to her surprise he actually managed to hold his own. What's more, he fought well and killed. He came out on top and outmaneuvered everyone who came near him.

He's good, she thought, allowing her gaze to wash over the hordes instead. Mephisto, Scarecrows, Assaults... None of them were particularly threatening, but there were a lot of them. Not only that, but there were angels at play as well. Souta was a human, and known to fight against demons, so his presence would be a surprise but not anything major. Lily and Fenn's appearances, however, would cause a stir. Both were demons, and seeing the fight other demons would sow confusion among the angels. Likely the less disciplined ones would open fire on sight. She wasn't afraid that the angels would start to swarm them, but they were a risk to keep in mind.

That being said, however, she had demons to fight. For once, she was happy that she had made certain to wear baggy clothes, complete with slits in the back. Fenn had already left her behind, barrelling through demons and angels alike, and she wasn't far behind. She rushed out of hiding, taking one long leap, then another, her body morphing. By the third leap a pair of huge wings beat down along with her, sending her high into the air. She let gravity take effect and plummeted to the ground, her roar joining the screams of demons and angels alike. The first scarecrow she met never even saw her coming, crushed underneath her weight as she crashed onto the ground - a half-dragon amidst demons.

This, she decided, wasn't a fight to be fought with weapons. She had found a way to improve her draconic form, and now was the time to test it. The mausoleum was off to her left, so that was where she would go.

Her presence, much as expected, had drawn the attention of angels and demons alike, and the first pack of enemies assaulted her. Three scarecrows circled her and struck. She bore down upon the first, grabbing its blade-arm with one hand and lifted it off of its feet. With a mighty heave she threw it to the side and sent it crashing into its companion. The third came from behind, sprinting towards her with its bladed leg. It spun and cut across her back, eliciting a grunt but nothing more. Lily turned, eyes aglow with fire and reached out. It jumped, out of reach, and she pursued. Jumping forward with a beat of her wings, crashing into it and forcing it down on the ground, her claws sinking into its shoulders.

She opened her mouth, tasting the smoke that flowed out, feeling the heat in her chest, and then she breathed. Fire poured from her maw: molten red and orange, covering not only the scarecrow itself but the immediate area around them drying and cracking the ground. She rose and turned, slamming her tail down on what remained of the scarecrow, scattering its ashes. From ahead charged an Assault, javelin-like claws extended and, quicker than she had anticipated, shot them at her. She didn't slow down, instead bringing up an arm to bat the projectiles aside. One imbedded itself shallowly in her arm, but the other two ricocheted off of her scales. They met in a violent confrontation, the Assault using its armoured head to divert her first strike, biting into her other arm.

Scales cracked and pain flared. She took hold of its upper jaw and pried it off of her arm while ignoring the pain flaring from where it was biting down on her hand. She instead took hold of its back leg with her other arm and, without preamble and with a sickening crack, slammed it back-first onto her knee and let it drop limply on the ground.

Ahead of her, Fenn continued his charge, crushing angels and demons alike that got too close. As his - for the time - mistress, she would not be outdone. She jumped into the air, beating her wings hard to gain altitude. She wouldn't have much time before winged demons, and angels, started attacking her, but she had some. She held still as much as she could in the air and let out another breath, bathing the ground in fire, incinerating denizens of hell and heaven without discrimination. Anyone that got too close to her flames were burnt. She snapped her jaws closed, cutting off the fire and returned to the ground with a powerful beat of her wings, flattening an unlucky mephisto with a wet squelch, it having lost its cloak previously.

She looked up, seeing Fenn's tremendous form wreaking havoc in the battle, heading towards their goal. The mausoleum was up ahead, not far ahead of Fenn. He was covered in blood, broken bodies strewn around him. This was where he was at home: on a battlefield, surrounded by death and the force that decided the tide of the battle. She twitched, gritting her teeth. A heat stirred in her chest, and it wasn't anger, nor bloodlust. It was something else, something potentially even worse and even more dangerous.

Pride.

Holding such a position was not his right. It was hers. Fenn was indeed powerful, but he was not her superior. I am stronger, she thought, muscles tensing, and I will prove it.

She ran forward, into the throng separating them. Angels or demons - didn't matter. Anything that got in her way died. She took hold of an unfortunate angel's head, using him as a club until his neck broke, then discarded him by throwing him at the nearest assailant, knocking it - a scarecrow - off balance. From the side came another scarecrow, its eerie visage having no effect. She cut its bladed arm with her own, scales cracking but holding. She swung her tail around like a battering ram, hitting it hard enough to break the spine of a solid being, but instead it was simply thrown away, its arm almost tearing at the socket from where Lily still held onto the blade. She took hold of its shoulder and heave, ripping off the arm with a squelch and thrust the blade through the scarecrow and threw it away.

Her next opponents were perhaps luckier, their ends quicker. A trio of Assaults sprang at her, the first she backhanded aside where it skidded to a halt some distance away where an angel took it upon itself to skewer it. The second she caught mid-jump with her tail, lashing upwards to send it sailing over her where it landed, still alive but momentarily groggy. The third came from the front and jumped at her, mouth open and going for the throat. She intercepted it mid-jump, grabbing it around the neck with one hand, her claws digging into its neck. She forced it down onto the ground and bore over it, her other hand forming a fist. It struggled, but to no avail. It was outmatched. Lily grinned and struck, caving in its skull with a single, powerful strike.

Shaking the gore off her hand, she looked up. She was near the mausoleum. Not far now. But there were still some foolish enough to think they could stop her. Well, their choice. She inhaled deeply and leaned back, then let out her most powerful breath yet, a scorching cone of fiery destruction spewing from her mouth. Those that weren't finished off by it were jumping aside, leaving a relatively clear path ahead. She entered a sprint and set towards the mausoleum, dispatching any that still got in her way with ruthless efficiency.

Wrath's eyes narrowed dangerously at the word lapdog. "Lapdog? I answer to Uriel and the Charred Council alone. Where I go, I go with their authority. If I say to leave this quadrant of the jungle be, it will be left alone. At least by the Army of Light. I would almost implore you feast on or kill every Laguna angel you see." Wrath fell silent after that, contemplating his answer to the second, though technically third, question. It was true he couldn't give a valid reason other than...him. And if this thing could benefit Sevrin, Wrath knew he'd be down to retrieve it himself.

"As for why you should relinquish it, there is a person here in this jungle that poses a threat much greater than stray angels and demons; someone with the power to best the strongest of Humanity's, Heaven's and Hell's champions without hardly a second thought. This source of power may very well be something he needs or wants and you wouldn't be able to stop him if you wanted to. He'd wipe you and your whole brood out just for being there, nevermind trying to stop him from getting to it. You let me have it, you and your brood survive." Wrath granted a mental smile to himself. At least until I can come back and spare the time to kill you. Can't risk another Silitha. Fainting a lowered guard, Rage Bringer came down a bit. "So I say once more, what say you?"

"You expect me to believe someone else is out there? Someone like that?!", she didn't believe it. Rather, she could not, it seemed too convenient for this Nebilim to use as an excuse.

"Moreover, you ask that I relinquish something so valueable to me and my brood?! Such nerve! What do I gain from this?", it was true, she stood to lose a lot more than she gained. All that was really promised was safety in exchange for both what was allowing her brood to grow faster than normal, as well as the services of her brood. But in all this Broodmother's primitive origins, a shrewdness had developed over the years, that would not be put to the test until now.

"Well... If those are your demands. Then I shall make some bold ones of my own!... Bring me a vessel", she stated. A vessel?

"You may seem confused, but I wish not to be bound by my mother's form and mind, as you suspect. I still do not believe it, but if you wish for me to help you, then give me the comfort that all will be mine own", she continued. So she wanted a vessel...? A new body so to speak.

"Anything will do, human, demon... Angel. I need something from which I can continue exerting my will, away from the flesh of Silitha. Preferrably, a female". So these were her terms... One life, in exchange they can not only gain an ally, but also continue on with their quest in these woods. What would his answer be...?

---

The demonic hordes seemed to thicken but those observing from further away would realize that the incoming demons were thinning greatly. It seems every demon within a certain radius had come, but not every single one in the forest. As a biologist or animal watcher may observe, it was almost like they were scrambling for a spot at a watering hole. Suffice to say the raw power emanating from the orb Akoni now holds is strong enough that that would be an apt analogy.

Souta's systematic and clever use of arsenal made demons that stood before him a simple task, with proper application each demon was efficiently slain, with few unnecessary movements coupled with creativity and flexibility allowed him to continue his warpath. Where Souta showed cleverness, Fenn's charge showed brute force as demons seemed to just fly as soon as he got close. It wasn't unexpected he was the closest to the mausoleum.

Lily's strength and grace made every encounter seem deliberate, the force and power of her blows with her movements gave way to a dance that could not be stopped. In mere moments she would find herself at the doors of the mausoleum. As soon as all three had arrived, a crowd of angels swooped down as reinforcements and intercepted yet another crowd of demons. This was their chance to slip in secure the building. Should they capture it, defending from the demons would be a simple task.

They would upon entry bear witness to Akoni making use of the orb, blasting the Hatred with a concentrated beam. For the short moment it struck, the force managed to cause the Hatred to stagger, giving the Champion a moment to get a strike in, but soon the angelic warrior was brushed away. The beam was strong, but it was not enough to pierce the Hatred, plus the force alone was impressive. He need only a bit more time to focus it.

Wrath narrowed his eyes at the request for a vessel. It was clear that his warning about the ingestion of Silitha's remains had finally sunk in, but he couldn't guarantee that this wouldn't backfire. Still, he could play this well enough. "Explain why you need me to do it. There's a great big battle going on all around you on the surface, likely even directly above you. There are plenty of bodies your brood could retrieve on their own." Still, he was sure he could find a fallen female something up there if he REALLY had to, but he was hoping that it wouldn't come to that.

Akoni forced everything he had into the orb, focusing it into a beam to blast into the hatred. At first it looked like it was working, the beam struck and the demon recoiled from the sheer force of it alone. But the beam didn't last and the monstrous creature was fighting back again, even knocking aside the angelic champion like he was nothing. The mage bit his lips in frustration. He'd have to charge the artifact longer for a more concentrated blast, but he wasn't certain that his allies would be able to buy that much time. That's when reinforcements arrived. Lily, Fenn, and even Souta must have come across the battle waging outside and fought their way into the structure. Other champions of the Charred Council were now here, and the old man couldn't help but chuckle inwardly. This demon was going to die, painfully.

He had an idea. Since the hatred had already bonded with the orb's energies, it'd no doubt take a tremendous concentration of the thing's power to cause lasting harm. But now he held the orb in his hands, and the demon was nowhere near it. Akoni could potentially bond to it himself, but immediately rejected the idea since it hadn't yet been identified. His other plan was more agreeable, given the circumstances. If he held the source of the power, and the hatred had linked to it, then all the wizard had to do was reverse the link and suck that creature dry, leaving it a husk for the others to demolish.

Calling on the magical knowledge he possessed, Akoni allowed himself to tap into the orb's power once more. This time, instead of gathering what sat in his hand and sending it out, he focused on the energy it had already expended and imagined it to be a magnet, reclaiming what was rightfully its own. Hopefully that meant the hatred's connection would sever. Either way, Akoni closed his eyes and concentrated hard as he could. Once he opened them, they glowed with a bright blue aura.

As the Charred Council’s Magus appropriated the key and turned its power against the Hatred that had claimed it, the Angelic Champion saw a chance to slip past the demon’s defense. Wings flared and boosted him forward over the corpses of his command, golden blade lancing forward to plunge into the enemy’s center.

Mid-stagger, the Hatred tilted imperceptibly to one side, and the blade that would have impaled it skittered instead over its crystalline hide, carving a groove along its path. The angel had no time to dwell on his failure before he was forced to duck under the demon’s whirling scythe. The second arc came on the coattails of the first, and a desperate parry nearly saw the blade wrenched from the soldier’s hands.

In a split-second decision, the soldier leaned closer and low into the next arc, trading the scythe’s singing blade for the crushing weight of the weapon’s staff slamming against him.

The blow knocked the wind out of his lungs and sent him flying back to the entrance. Forcing himself to his feet by using his sword as support, the champion eyes wandered to the mausoleum entrance.

A towering demon was charging through, arms like tree-stumps sending tremors along the stone walls as it loped forward, and the soldier knew that the baleful amber eyes and the wolf’s grin were directed at him. But for a member of the Hellguard to meet an end in war against the old enemy was nothing strange. If all he could do in the end was to buy time for the Council’s Agents, then he would do so with steady hands, staring death in the face.

The champion readied his blade, steeling himself for the moment in which the beast would be close enough to smell its breath.

It was then that he realized that the monster’s focus was not on him, but on something behind him. The idea had not even occurred to him, so outlandish it seemed in his mind, but he had no choice but to entertain it as the monster vaulted over him.

The Hatred rose its weapon just as the monster fell, and the Hellhound grabbed onto the staff, bearing down on its target. The smaller demon’s needle-like legs sunk into the floor, sending cracks and raking the floor as it began to be forced back under the monster’s bulk.

The hound opened its maw, and an orange glow began to emanate from its gullet, along with the tell-tale sound of crackling fire.

A moment later, the glow receded, and the hound closed its jowls, instead twisting its grip on the Hatred’s weapon in an attempt to wrestle it to the floor. This proved to be a poor tactic, as the scythe suddenly spun between the two. The hound stood to its full height, avoiding the blade suddenly arcing upward towards its neck by a hair’s breadth, and then surging forward with a raised fist with the whole of its weight behind it.

Dust and stone erupted from the impact, and the Hatred landed several meters to the side, its sharp legs making a scratching noise against the floor as it rose from its sudden leap.

The Hellhound slowly turned to face it, shoulder’s cracking as it fell back to all fours. Its scaled tail swished back and forth menacingly, in a manner that reminded the angel of a cat considering what to do with a mouse it had caught.

A grave voice grated from its maw. “This one has fed well.”

Barely had the words left his mouth before a nearby wall exploded inwards, carrying with it dust and blood, and the remains of some, as of the moment of impact, indistinguishable demon. As the dust settled, in stepped creature more draconic than either angelic or demonic, over eight feet tall and powerfully built. Only its face - the only part not covered in black scales - betrayed its femininity.

“But has it fed well enough?” Asked Lily, flexing her wings casually. Her eyes scanned the room, taking note of the presence of Akoni, some human, Champion and Hatred. The sight of the scythe-wielding demon seemed to catch her interest, causing her slitted pupils to widen, if only slightly. “A demon wielding a weapon? Now that’s rare,” she all but purred.

The hound grunted, eye rolling to fix on those that had been fighting the demon until then. "Mage! Either get that bauble out of here or do something with it!"

"These are simple terms and you would question them?!", she did not seem happy with that. But while she surged a little, she piped back down.

"My brood cannot roam freely above ground for the very reason it is easy to find a body. Perhaps with some time they can drag some bodies for me to build something, but if you wish for me to help you sooner, then you would do well to bring me something to start using", until she can make a more suitable form than a giant spider that is.

"Now go. My brood have cut away the webbing to the way out", Wrath would look to his side at the previously thickly webbed door now open. Beyond he could saw a peculiar orb, floating as it were... So this was the source of power he felt...?

"As for the orb, you may remove it. But if you wish for my help, then do return with a body for me to use", she reminded. "For now, my brood shall stay in hiding. There is no reason for us to join this war just yet", and so the way was open for Wrath to continue.

---

With both Lily and Fenn charging into the battle, the Hatred's chances of being a threat were reduced greatly, especially with Akoni managing to control the power emanating from the orb, the demon was no longer benefiting from it's aura. The others of the demon horde were beginning to recede with the angels cutting them away as the Hatred flared back up again, only for it to suddenly fall limp. Tried to summon more strength to fight it did, but there was no strength left in it as it unceremoniously fell once more to the ground.

As the battle around the mausoleum subsided and the demon horde retreated. There was a silence as the angels looked at their unlikely saviors, demons and humans, and half breeds, they did not seem too happy with the help they were getting, but as agents of order, they resolved to obey their superiors and respect the decision of the council.

For now, it would be wise for them to head over to the seal, and see to the results of their retrieval.

Never before had Souta felt so much like a soldier. Working parallel to the nearest squad of angel soldiers, he had advanced step by step. It went without saying that he could not afford to plow into the enemy ranks, ripping into the demon horde like a force of nature. Even if he could have given a good account of himself, he would have tired, and in this scenario he didn't feel like he could rely on the shaky alliance with the Army of Light to bail him out. His fellow agents, once separated, did not seem apt to look back out of concern for his well-being, and he wouldn't have wanted them to. Human or not, he could stand on its own--demonstrating that was the will of all men who stood with Gilgamesh. Either way, his combined weapon made short work of the smaller demons who challenged him. With Escre's sepulchral essence infused with Deluge, each sickly-green shot exploded into a spray of deadly bone shards, making each bolt a sort of fragmentation grenade. When he'd noticed that the angels, thanks to the Charred Council's agents, had gained the upper hand, he used the distraction to make haste toward where Fenn and Lily were cleaning up. The mausoleum -the point of interest around which this entire raging battled revolved- soon stood before him.

Late to the party, he hurried inside. The telltale noises of shattering stone, tearing metal, and guttural growls told him he'd arrive too late to contribute, but he emerged into the main chamber just in time to see an unusual-looking Hatred give up the ghost. Surely that wasn't the 'boss' of Hell's forces around here? If I remember correctly, they're only Tier 2. His attention turned elsewhere, first with a degree of surprise toward the crotchety old sorcerer, then to the arcane artifact in his hands. "Oh, is that the thing? Hey, cool." Souta debated whether or not to comment on the perceived anticlimax, but not only was there a good chance he just missed the fight, there was also a pretty good chance that the battle was only beginning. "So, we have one half of the way in to the seal. Hello by the way, Mr. Akoni. We've still got one hell of a catch-22 to deal with. If we just knew where that snake was, we'd be able to figure out what to do."

The smith banished his combined weapon, returning it to twin streams of water that faded into the runes on his hoodie. He scratched his chin, the wheels turning in his mind. "You know, given the amount of fighting going on on this island, I'd bet that there's a Gilgamesh team on the way or maybe here already. If that's true, they're coming in a chopper, and that chopper's got the latest and greatest instruments the company's got to sense demonic energy. It's a long shot, but if Gilgamesh is out there, we'll be able to tell if Sevrin's already gotten to the seal." Still standing by the doorway, he crossed his arms. By his body language, he was indicating that the agents should waste no time leaving this place with their prize.

Wrath grimaced at the spider's reply, but didn't argue any further. He couldn't afford the time that would be lost doing so, nor did he want to kill her yet, since the eyes would be helpful in tracking Sevrin and keeping an eye out for the other agents of the Council. "I'll see what I can do. Just...don't complain if I can't find you a female body." As he approached the orb, the Nephilim looked it over before retrieving it, getting the sensation that destroying it might not be possible as he heads back out from where he was. A body...that would be difficult to get as she'd said. But then, who knew? Maybe he'd get lucky.

As Wrath exit the antechamber, and back out into the jungle, he wandered for a short time, before realizing he was walking near the site of a skirmish, or at least a former one. There were bodies strewn about, most demon, with some angel. Many of these were beastly or men, as was the norm for foot soldier types, so if he was to find a body for the spidery mistress, he'd need to be lucky a commander of some sort had fallen here.

As he stepped around through the battlefield he could identify that this was the site of a fight between the Heirarchy and a demon horde. The demons were already starting disappear as they usually would, and the angels that were slain were disappearing too as was more characteristic of the Heirarchy. As he stepped through he heard a voice weakly call out, he turned and laying wounded was a Joy, one of those angels that were created as a mockery of the Umbra Witches.

Not too far from was a mannequin, from the wounds inflicted upon the Joy, that's what she was fighting. It had a female shape in body, and judging from the seeping aura, it was still filled with demonic energy, meaning the reanimating magic that was applied to it likely many years past, simply becoming part of a demon horde, was still active. As far as it goes, the "commanders" of both units in this skirmish were now up for Wrath to decide, which one gets to become the vessel for the Broodmother?

When he'd happened upon the skirmish, Wrath had already recognized the signs of battle between the Hierarchy and the Demons, since the Laguna angels left behind a rather tell-tale signature with their attacks that the Army of Light usually didn't. As he moved through, it soon became painfully obvious that either both sides had been understrength or both sides simply hadn't cared if they survived the encounter, and it was likely the latter. Wasteful, even by Laguna standards. They must have thought this an important position in order to waste so many of their own on it. The Nephilim continued through the carnage, searching for a body he could take back.

It was at that point that he heard the faint call of a Joy, an angel the Hierarchy had created as a mockery of the Umbra Witches, and he turned, noting that she was wounded and fading fast. The wounds were easily identifiable, especially since the one who had given them to her, a female looking mannequin, was nearby. Clearly these had been the commanding officers of the two now obliterated forces and both fit the broodmother's request. And now to choose... His gut instinct was to give in to his rather strong dislike of the Hierarchy of Laguna and take the Joy back to the broodmother; after all, it would be quick, clean, and probably less fuss about being followed.

But he didn't, even as he moved past the dying Joy and put a couple of crossbow bolts into the mannequin for good measure. The Laguna angels were still angels, no matter what Wrath's personal feelings on the ugly bastards. Uriel would also give him a new hole to breath out of if she'd ever found out that he'd allowed a demon to possess the body of a Joy and that was one anger that he had no desire to face. Slinging the mannequin over his shoulder, he sent out a call for aid on the Angel communications to hopefully get the Joy some help. And then he began the trek back to the Broodmother's lair. Hopefully this would satisfy the eight-legged pain in the rear.

With a heaping crumpled thud the Broodmother skittled down to see what the Nephilim had brought her. A marionette,

"I suppose this shall do. Leave me to it. As promised, I will divert my resources to help you. You can expect to see some assistance from me this day", she stated, as was the deal, in return of course, she would be helped to further her power and rise beyond Silitha, and escape her influence, whether or not Silitha even had any influence to begin with is debateable, but it worked out fine as reasoning for Wrath to use.

The brood spiders that sat around the chamber began to move and disappear into their various tunnels, likely going above ground and scout, it seems they were now on the move. Regardless with this, Wrath was free to get on with doing his work, with some form of assistance. Though for now it seems he should leave the Broodmother to assimilate her new vessel or proxy, or whatever she was hoping to do.

Wrath doesn't respond, simply turning and once more following the path to the exit and then continuing on his way. Eventually, he finds his way to the central area where a Champion guards a door and he approaches. "Greetings, Champion of the Army of Light. What news is there of the battle with the demons?" He had never particularly cared about how formal he had to be sometimes due to the nature of the Champions, but he also wasn't eager to be on the receiving end of a sword strike from them, no matter how touch the Nephilim was.

While waiting a response, he retrieved the orb from where he'd stored it and began to look it over, trying to figure out what had made it so precious to the Broodmother that her price for letting him have it was so steep. Far as he could tell, it was simply a dark colored orb, though it did have a magical presence to it.

Akoni found himself somewhat irritated after his Council agent allies had entered the mausoleum. Their assistance was, of course, welcome to the situation. What he had taken issue with was Fenn’s remark that he should “do something,” as if the wizard were not already entrenched with extremely potent and complicated magics that allowed the hellhound and others to further beat down the hatred that was far stronger than it had any right to be. Though the old man said nothing, a glance of annoyance should have told the demon everything he needed to know, should Fenn be paying attention.

Lily glanced down as Souta made his way into the mausoleum, a sliver of genuine respect showing on her features. However, as he spoke, her expression turned more and more dour, and she let her attention return to the Hatred currently looking from person to person, appearing uncertain; movements slower than they should be. When at last Souta finished, Lily couldn't help but state the grim reality of things: "And more likely that helicopter will be disintegrated the moment he takes notice of it."

She leaned forward, wings half-spread. "But for now, we have this guy to deal with!" A mighty beat of her wings propelled her forward, expression set with gritty determination as the distance between her and the hatred vanished in a matter of moments. It did react, but it was too slow. Bringing its scythe around, it made a swing that would have plunged it into her neck had she continued but Lily, noticing this, slammed one clawed foot into the ground, using the momentum to twist while she was still outside the range of the scythe and let her tail hit the Hatred like a battering ram, sending it tumbling to the floor.

Henry sighed at the whole exchange, holding off the lesser demons had been a real chore. Luckily there was only one left, so he leveled his sniper rifle at the Hatred as it rolled to its feet and fired.

The demon rose its scythe by reflex, the projectile crashing against the blade at the last moment, but this proved to be the final glow coming off a dying candle. Still staggering from the bullet’s impact, it failed to move away as Fenn brought one of his arms to the monster’s back and slammed it down to the floor. Cracks spread on the stone.

The hellhound lowered its head to sniff at the Hatred as it continued to writhe, vainly trying to push the weight from its back, its scythe pinned between it and the ground as Fenn pressed his bulk over it. The hound snorted in displeasure, trails of smoke falling over the fallen creature’s head.

“Its strength is leaving it,” he gruffed.

“Clearly,” Akoni muttered, somewhat strained as he pulled forth more of the hatred’s energy into the orb.

“Then be done with it,” Lily grunted and rose to her full height, stepping over to Fenn. She looked down at the lesser demon, clicking her tongue at it. “Pity. You held such promise.” She looked up and around at the other individuals assembled. “So, what do we do with this one? Squash it? Dissect it? Did seem stronger than a normal Hatred,” her eyes trailed back to the thing underneath Fenn’s paw, “I wonder why.”

Souta waved his hand at the demon, dismissive. “We don’t have time to play doctor. If someone wants to poke around in its insides, it should be after the seal’s secured. Right now we should decide what we’re doing next. Are we going after the chopper, or not? The smith crossed his arms in anticipation of an answer.

“In that case, squash it, Fenn.” She folded her wings tightly against her back and turned around, facing Souta. “And we’ll avoid the helicopter. Unless you invented a noiseless one, it’s only going to make it that much easier to find us. We’ll be on foot—Fenn and I can easily clear the way through any opposition we might meet.” The demoness looked around at each of her companions, then asked. “Any objections? And Akoni, how long will it take to get that thing under control.”

Souta replied with a shrug, though he managed to slip in, “Guess I’m just along for the ride then,” before an ally’s outburst.

“It would already be under control if the demon were simply slain,” retorted the mage with a low grumble. “What made the hatred special was a combination of a devil trigger, and creating a symbiotic link to this orb, of which I have reversed, causing the drain to its powers you’ve witnessed. Any second now… And…”

The blue aura emanating from Akoni’s eyes grew brighter and larger, then all at once focused inward. If the others had been expecting some grand display or showy performance, they would most definitely have been disappointed. “Success. The power is once again sealed within the orb. If we make haste, the Seal and Sevrin shall not elude us.” He immediately began heading toward the nearest exit, caring not for the Hatred that still barely clung to life. The cracking noise that arose from behind him told him all he needed to know about its ultimate fate.

“If he isn’t already inside,” the smith muttered, glancing at the Hatred’s messy demise. He made a mental note to bring a soul jar with him next time, provided he could get his hands on one. Working as an agent of the Charred Council, whether voluntary or not, made for even more opportunities to collect materials than working with Gilgamesh. In the meantime, he would have to make do with what he had: a tricky scenario he could not escape from or solve. Though he didn’t like this plan of action, Souta was ready to move out.

“We may well open the way for the snake ourselves.” The dog took a lumbering step off the disappearing corpse and oriented himself towards the exit. Fenn scoffed, “Fetching these keys may have been our most foolish idea yet.”

Lily stepped over to Akoni, crouching down take a look at the orb in question. “I’m not so certain, Fenn,” she said, tapping a claw at the item in question. “If we just left them, he would find them in time. If we have them, we can stop him from getting them. And—” she rose to her full height again, turning to face the Smith and Hound, while taking care not to bowl over Akoni with her tail “—assuming that the Council is as powerful as some claim, they should be able to protect it effortlessly.” She paused then, brows furrowing. For several moments she looked lost in thought until, finally, she looked up at Fenn, then at the orb Akoni yet held. “Speaking of safe-keeping,” she continued, “if one of us just holds onto the key, I have few doubts that Sevrin would simply be able to take it and make a run for it, even were it myself. I know very few, demons or angels, who are faster than me, and I have almost no doubts that Sevrin could outrun me, even in the weakened state he’s bound to be in. So...” Her eyes trailed from the orb to Fenn one last time. “What about a temporary snack, Fenn?”

A knowing gleam crossed the hound’s eyes. “I feared you would not ask.”

As much as Souta wanted to crack a joke about giving the dog a treat, he kept to himself, hoping that his curt silence would instead convince the group to start moving. Every minute in the mausoleum was another that the forces of evil had to realize their dire goals.

Akoni however found absolutely no humor in the suggestion. In fact, he found it very logical, and intriguing. Once they had returned to the Charred Council, it would no doubt be safe in the Citadel, where he could study the artifact undisturbed. In the meantime he had to admit that unless the being possessing Sevrin was capable of sensing the orb, hiding it within Fenn’s body provided a most fortuitous hiding place. Perhaps the hellhound could even bond to it the same way that hatred had done so.

“Here,” he said, tossing the object straight for Fenn’s face. The dog caught it in his jaws, and the next moment it had disappeared down his gullet. For the power the artifact purported to possess, the act had been decidedly unceremonious. “Perhaps you can utilize its power as the hatred did, and give us an additional edge against Sevrin. But we waste too much time.” Without another word he conjured a gate centered amidst them all, and produced the second gate outside of the mausoleum. Doors were for chumps, as was conventional physics.

“And with just one mouthful, Fenn just became the most attractive target for any and all mindless demon in this forest,” Lily idly commented, already walking towards the hole she had created in the wall.

The hound paused, as if to consider. “It begs the question.”

Lily’s jaws clicked shut, shutting off the plume of fire she had used to clear the immediately vicinity outside. “Begs what question?”

“Can the Prince of Darkness afford to lose every demon in this forest?”

As they arrived to the antechamber containing the large sealed door, likely leading to the next Seal, those of keener senses would be able to make out that the areas surrounding them were quiet, still, like going from a crowded festival to a soundproof recording studio. It was unnerving, but the occasional sensing of the wings of the angels from the Army of Light was reassuring somehow, as if there was still a presence in this forest. However it was strange, normally the forces of hell were almost limitless. The fodder demons they had slain thus far were easy to summon once more, some were of sterner stuff than others, but they could afford to send more weaklings to maintain pressure.

Still, it seems they had accomplished their task. Before anyone could suggest going after the last orb, Wrath had walked in from the other end of the hall, holding the last key.

"Great work everyone. It seems today will be a victory for us, both Heaven and the Charred Council, have won this day"

The calming and soft voice had spurred the angel soldiers around them to take a knee and bow. Descending into the antechamber from a skylight above was Kushiel. The angel presiding over Heaven's side of this battle. Not far behind him was Zarrath. All the big wigs had arrived it seems.

"General, the jungle is being secured as we speak. There is no sign of any of hell's forces, other than corpses and stragglers", so it seems for now the greater battle was over. All that was left was to claim their prize, the Seal.

"Now then, agents of the Charred Council, hand me the orbs", he ordered.

Lily and Fenn powered through the forest, foregoing helicopter and portals in favour of her own legs, when returning to the Seal's entrance. She had fought through what resistance remained, and finally made her way into the antechamber where the strange door yet remained locked. Returning to her elven form she had worn before their mission had demanded a form more suited for combat. Scales gave way to pale skin, muscles seemed to deflate, replaced instead by soft curves. Where previously had been horns were now elfine ears, and what coarse hair she had possessed lengthened, regaining its silver-white sheen.

She stretched her arms above her hand, fingers interlocked, feeling the pleasant sensation of muscles tensing, then relaxing as she let her hands fall to her side again. The movement, however, brought her attention to her clothes... Or what remained of them. She had deliberately dressed in baggy clothes earlier that day, knowing that she would otherwise shred whatever she wore, if she adopted her draconic guise. However, even if it still covered her, she had underestimated her own size, as well as the amount of damage it would sustain during the fights. Her pants remained relatively intact, albeit marked where a few blades had cut through the fabric. Her shirt, however, was something else entirely. The right sleeve was gone in its entirety, and thanks to the scuffles she had been in, much of her shirt was torn and cut. Perhaps the only damage to the shirts inflicted by Lily herself, were the two slits on the back that had been made to accomodate her wings. Every other cut and hole was from some weapon, tooth, or claw. She was lucky that there was still enough to retain her decency, even if she did not personally care about it.

She sighed and was about to head inside when the rumbling voice of Fenn beckoned her. "Imp," he said in a low voice, jerking his head to the side before wandering off, to a more secluded place, Lily following. "This meal did not sit well with me," he rumbled, pulling back his teeth in a sneer.

"You are unwell?" The demoness inquired, walking up to him and looking him over, brows furrowed.

"You should know, as Warleader," he elaborated. "I am no longer keeping my fire contained by choice."

A slight parting of her lips was all the surprise she showed. She moved to circle him, paying particular attention to the places where his fire would originate from under normal circumstances. Just as he had said, there were no flames to speak of. Not even embers or smoke. "Will it be a great detriment to you? Do you want to be rid of it? I imagine it wouldn't be hard to get out, if you desired."

She caught his nearly baleful glare out the corner of her, a knowing smirk on her lips as she predicted his response. Well, the tone and pride in it, at the very least.

"I hunted for a long time with no fire or chains before venturing to yonder corner of the underworld. It makes no difference," he announced, the rumble in his voice becoming a little more pronounced.

"if you insist that you can do well without, then I trust that you do." She cocked her head towards the entrance to the ruined structure, in which the seal yet remained. "Come, time to join the others," she said and started walking, Fenn dutifully following.

They entered the ruined cathedral in short order, meeting with the Nephilim, the Angelic champion, and her other companions; Souta and Akoni, the former of which she sent a warm smile. Before she could do anything more than that, however, her attention was diverted by the arrival of two new, one somehow more nauseatingly self-righteous than the rest of their ilk, looking more like a spoiled prince than a warrior—the mere sight of him brought a scowl to her face—as well as a familiar angel, whom Lily recognised as the one she and the others had met earliar that day. She decided to ignore him, instead favouring Wrath with her gaze, eyeing the orb he held in particular.

So he has the last of the keys, she mused, glancing towards the door that still held one of the three artefacts. Fenn has the other, I wonder what th—

"—Hand me the orbs."

The demand came with such unexpected conviction and surety that Lily actually laughed, giggling as if she had just heard the funniest thing in the world. That is, until all mirth fled her face, and she and Fenn spoke in perfect unison: "No."

Wrath glanced up as he felt the familiar presence of the Archangel Zarrath arrive, along with the semi-familiar presence of Kushiel, though he didn't care for the bastard. The Army of Light and Laguna Hierarchy kept their forces separate for good reason, since the truth was that the two angel breeds simply didn't care for the other. It often lead to brawls in the White City, but they had yet to try and kill each other. And then there was Kushiel, unique because he not only was a part of the Army of Light, but was augmented by Laguna technology, or whatever they called it. Still, the arrival of the pair indicated that victory for the angels was near. Well, specifically the arrival of the grey-winged Zarrath, as he very much preferred to lead from the front.

Slightly preceding the two angel commanders, Lily, Fen, Souta, Akoni, and some guy the Nephilim had yet to meet before now arrived, and seeing three of the four, his mind returned to his doubts about the power the Council truly held. Bah, think on it another time. For now, we have a job to do. Kushiel spoke, congratulating everyone and saying that a great victory had been won for Heaven and the Council alike. Wrath, who had spent the majority of his time dealing with a broodmother and her ilk, liked what he had heard so far and nodded. When the request for the orbs was given, he frowned at his own. He could certainly feel that this Orb, whatever it was, contained powerful magic, but didn't know why Kushiel would need it. His frown only deepened when Fen and Lily spoke at the same time. "No."

It was at this juncture the Nephilim spoke up. "Alright, so call me oblivious, but what exactly is so important about this orb?"