WARNING: Brief depiction(s) of heavy swearing, sexual references/innuendo, and oodles of cuteness ahead.

CONTINUE WITH CAUTION.

Silver the Hedgehog: The Hymnals of Tetragrammaton

Verse Twenty – The Footfalls of Proserpine, Finale

Paradiso, Elysian Fields – Time Undefined…

The hapless trio, Arsenio, Cedric, and Vesper tumbled on top of each other while Fang held his own. Vesper fell asleep on top of Cedric, who'd collided with Arsenio on the ground. Colorful petals and stems flew up from their impact.

Fang planted both fists against his waist. Raising an eyebrow, he spat, "Man, you three really are hapless, aren't you?"

"Oy…!" Cedric moaned, dizzy spirals replacing his eyes.

Brilliant cobalt spied the countless waves of wildflowers. Pinks, yellows, purples, and even blue rippled in an invisible wind. Harmonious aromas couldn't be sensed, for one reason or another. Pearl feathers feigned marble. They scattered away to the incoming wind-whip. Fang couldn't believe his eyes.

Unknowingly, he'd felt the wingbeats of an Accolade. The majestic centaur-Angel galloped overhead, monitoring the Porta as it closed.

"W-W-Wait! No, don't close!" But a little too late; Cedric's crocodile maw crashed into the lithograph's luminous rays. "Wah~! No way! How're we gonna get back, huh?! We're trapped!"

"If there's a will, there's a way…"

Arsenio's strikingly calm response made the big guy's tears dribbled under his half-confused blinks. Vesper's light snores continued without missing a beat. Fang's own eyes softened. Heaven's glow gave them a romantic gleam. The weasel's heart thundered against his chest wall; Arsenio proceeded towards him—only to move right past. His blush remained, permeating across his face, but noticed the echidna focusing on something else. A hand went up to the weasel's chest; a more melancholic shadow had casted itself over his eyes. The hope in them dissipated. "There's no way he'll take me back…not after all this time…"

Cedric had piggybacked Vesper once again when he called out, "Whoa there, my man! Do you have any idea where you're going?"

The echidna stopped. "No, but we've gotta start going somewhere. We're away from Ithavoll's goons, so let's see what's here."

Without so much as a retort, Cedric shrugged—while moving Vesper higher onto his shoulders—and wordlessly followed. Fang hung back for a short while. Unable to scavenge the courage to apologize, Fang could only think back to what'd caused their traumatic breakup.

Police alarms had been tripped. Chun-nan's security was much more advanced than any western city Fang had ever come across.

And it should've been; a state-of-the-art system was protecting the grandmother of all lodes—a pirate-king's dream cache: "The Master Emerald."

Global black markets had gone white-hot for the unmistakable gemstone. Thieves' hits had been placed on it. Only the most cunning, highest-skilled, and most brilliant escape artists would attempt such a feat. Shamar's Palace of Layla—named after an Umbra Witch who ruled in Shamar's olden days, and was honored during the exclusively Shamaran Festival of the Sun and Moon—once held the ancient artifact, but the artifact itself was still a missing wonder. Open to tourists, Arsenio went undercover to inspect the ruins, leaving snack crumbs big enough for Fang to see during their night raid. Later, midway into the heist, the alarm was tripped and both treasure hunters were surrounded. Arsenio's quick thinking got them out.

However, Fang didn't have the Emerald.

"Screw you," Arsenio had yelled. "It's not worth losing our heads over!"

"The only one losing his head…is you!" Fang had snapped back. "This is the thanks I get for planning this thing and pulling it off?! Well, I'm going back for it! It'll be all mine! That's what you get for wussing out on me!"

"I saved your ass, Fang! Fuck you for throwing me under the bus like that! The instant guards show up, you turn tail and run?! I thought we were in this together, you coward!"

"We were—?!"

"Until you decided to ditch me afterwards! I'm the one who got you outta there, so don't get it twisted! 'You steal it—you deal with it!'—Thieves' credo!"

The weasel's voice shook. "W-We were gonna share the earnings, you—you moron! D-Don't pin the blame on me!"

But the echidna didn't yield to it. "I've got every right to pin it on you, asshole! You were the one who ditched me!"…

Another breeze meandered over the landscape. Flower petals lifted, and tears took up hands with it. Fang wiped away the droplet. Those beautiful lilac feathers waved to its departure. His feet carried him along. He couldn't help being plagued by the guilt of such a shameful display of cowardice.

From Purgatorio's veil, it attracted a throng of odd-shaped Angels. Expressionless marble veneers did denote a mild, yet cautious, curiosity.

Compassion

First Sphere – Angel

It attracted the attention of their leader, as well.

Cachet

First Sphere – Angel

The flock of Angels peered suspiciously at the Chaotix Detectives. Suddenly poised to strike, they were waved down by the Accolade from earlier. It trotted up to them and barred their advance with its spear.

Accolade

First Sphere – Archangel

"LET THEM PROCEED," the warrior spoke in a strong dissent. "THEIR ARRIVAL HAS BEEN FORESEEN AND SANCTIONED BY THE GLEANER'S FUTURE SIGHT."

Cresting a florid knoll, Arsenio stopped to marvel the view. He was a fast walker, so Cedric struggled to keep up while toting the rather lightweight chameleon. He huffed aloud, as if to call out to the treasure hunter's sympathy. But it didn't seem to be working. Altogether, the croc collapsed to his knees. "Hey…Slow down, will ya? My legs are too short and clumsy for all this…Jeez."

But Fang had passed him with relative ease, and with even less sympathy.

It made the big guy want to cry again. "Aw, c'mon! Don't rub it in~!"

Arsenio picked up on the detective's comment, thinking it was Fang's who'd passed him. From his stomach pack, he took out a small pair of binoculars. It seemed, no matter which way he faced, there was nothing but flowers. No footpaths. No landmarks. Just a florid expanse. He had to wonder if Heaven was really this colorful. Standing in its midst made all the preconceived notions he had collapse. "It's not anything like the blinding white nothingness I imagined," he forced himself to think, "It's…better. I hope I wind up here when my time comes."

After pulling down the binoculars, he picked up Fang's murmur. He turned around to see him, without a huff or word. He saw him fidget like a shy little kid, demarking the space between them. It made him wonder for a moment; then, an incredible patience came forth. So, he simply waited for the weasel to regain composure.

"I, uh…know this isn't the best place, or time, to do this, but I…I, uhh…?"

"Well, we're not in any place or time right now, so whatever it is, spit it out."

And Fang did just that. "I'm sorry for hurting you."

Vaguely surprised, Arsenio cradled his head in interlocked hands. "I'm not all that surprised. I mean, it's been how long, now? One, two…?"

"Four. Years."

"Man, time sure does fly. It's strange how, when you think about something almost every day it feels like time goes by slower and when you forget it goes faster…but in reality, it's the opposite. You know what I mean?"

"Are you saying you…stopped thinking about me?"

"I took a hiatus. And?"

"…I shouldn't be surprised, should I?"

"Nope. Now, what is it—really?"

The proverbial cat had snatched Fang's tongue. He went frigid with hesitation. The hand he'd lifted froze in place.

"You're still in love with me…Aren't you?"

Chilled to the bone, Fang managed to lower his arm. A rare gleam of humiliation glistened in his eyes. His reply was without words, but brimming with overtness. It was so obvious, he thought he was going to die and get kicked out of Paradiso. There was enough dread to shake his core; it started at his shoulders. Then, shimmied down his arms. Gentle moments they'd shared came flooding back: Pillow talk had been total hilarity, while arguments ended in saccharine displays of affection. Angry kisses made Fang melt in his boots.

Nothing escaped past the weasel's lips. Those lilac feathers pirouetted in another breeze.

"Hey, man, I'm over it."

Calm hands came down on his shoulders. Kind tanzanites urged mortified cobalt to lock into contact. Teary bubbles started to fill Fang's eyes.

"Besides, one act of cowardice didn't ruin everything. It just…broke us up. My level of trust for you, as a lover, has shattered, but it's not like you're a horrible treasure hunter. You did plan it, and we did find it. I'm not gonna knock you for that." Arsenio scratched the back of his head. "I mean, if you hadn't updated my info, we would've ended up in a Shamaran prison…and nobody wants to end up in there."—A light blush had dampened the other hunter's cheeks—"You're not a bad hunter; just a terrible escape artist. I ain't mad about it anymore. For real. I'm over it. So calm down, don't be so tense."

Fruitful teardrops fell once more. The weasel shook his head.

"Jeez. I hated making things so tense between us after a fight. I never liked it then…and I still don't like it, even now." An awkward glower softened Arsenio's gaze. A tiny blush of his own had appeared. "…But I gotta do it one more time. By telling you…my heart's following someone else, right now."

Those words echoed from Fang's memories. Something like that had been said to him, back when Arsenio first asked him out. Tanzanite kindness hadn't changed. Redheaded feistiness kept his heart warm—before and after disagreements. He was stubborn and headstrong, yet dutiful and chivalrous. He showered him with gifts and appreciated him for his wicked smarts—not to mention, their sex life was out of this world.

His previous disgraceful advances towards him made him bite his lower lip. But, somehow, he scrapped up whatever mettle he had left to his name, straightened his back, and wiped away his tears.

"…goodbye…"

Arsenio blinked. "Hm?"

"A goodbye kiss." Fang's efforts to dam them failed, for even more spilled forth. "If this is our truest final goodbye."

"Even if it is, you're still my hunting mate."

Disbelief made Fang gawk at Arsenio. But their lips made contact before his eyes ever could. It was over almost as soon as it happened. There was no time for flashbacks or realization. His vibrant purple tail stiffened into a sharper crook. Every hair on his body stood at attention. He blinked wildly.

Yet Arsenio did nothing but smirk over those considerate amethysts. And said, "So, as your ex-boyfriend…this is my last 'goodbye,' Fang." A new fedora in dark brown with a turquoise-beaded hatband and a feathered tassel graced his crown. The reminiscent gift floated a bit as he turned away. He held it steady as he kept his balance going down.

It was Cedric's turn to crest the hill, this time. With Vespertine still asleep, he huffed and puffed and plopped down on his belly. Much to his chagrin, Arsenio had already landed and headed elsewhere. He let out a big, albeit whiny, sigh.

Seeing that Fang hadn't gone after him, he wondered, "Hey, Nack? You alright, there? Hello…?"

Thankfulness had seized the treasure hunter as he marveled his ex. A heavier flush had dampened his cheeks. With cobalt eyes overflowing with tears, Cedric's voice ebbed out of his ears; he didn't see him at all. Then, he smoothed his forefingers over his lips. Gently. Tenderly. Almost as if to commit the moment to memory.

Very much like giving himself permission to burn the "pictures" in his mind.

Fang exhaled, "Goodbye…Arsenio."

Arsenio's smile disintegrated, its spiritual embers floating along one last zephyr.

Paradiso, Temple of Fidelity…

An awfully familiar premises had appeared before the Chaotix Detectives. Beautifully aged landmarks made themselves known after what felt like a long while. Strangely, the detectives didn't feel hungry or thirsty on their trek. While Vesper continued to sleep, Cedric, Arsenio, and Fang decided to investigate.

It all called back from Arsenio's deeper memories, but he wasn't sure why. "This place looks familiar," he remarked softly, coming up on what looked like a schoolhouse—complete with a clock and belfry. The clock's hands were missing, however; he could barely make out the numbers. Stopping in front of the small wrought-iron gate, he blinked a little. "It's like I've seen it before, but where from…?"

"Hey, you guys," Cedric called in a gruff whisper. "I think there's someone in there…!"

"You're kidding, right?" Fang interjected, a little skeptical.

"No, I can see 'em, too! They're through here…"

Cedric decided to take the lead, despite Vesper knocked out on his back, and guided the other two men towards a little church. Its own gate creaked, but it was no louder than a gentle whistle. The doors stood open, as if to welcome them, and without too much reservation Cedric led the pack.

Behind them, a flock of Affinity sentries had descended. Their Applaud leader seemed to allay their anxiety a tad, motioning accordingly and signaling them to move elsewhere. At once, they took to the air once more.

Inside, the walls were white. The roof was missing, so Heaven's light poured into every room without mistake. Crumbled partitions revealed the schoolhouse classroom, a dining hall and some bedrooms, as they moved further in. Bookcases held no books. The hall had no dinner table. Beds were absent. Arsenio walked into one bedroom and stood in front of the window. He furrowed his brows. "Yeah…this place is definitely familiar."

"Psst! Senio!"

Arsenio turned towards the call. It was Cedric again, and he was waving him over. Without much opposition, the echidna followed him. Listening in, he heard that, "Nack went on ahead and found something interesting…!" which gave him a slightly curious look.

They crossed through the school's homeroom. It felt a little eerie for a classroom to have no students—or even desks to sit in. Trying not to mind it too much, Arsenio followed Cedric outside. Down one more slope, with an accommodating staircase, the Chaotix reunited with Fang, who'd been captivated by the lake and the lush greens around it. In the center of the lake was something like a Greek portico. Tiered by columns, marble disks glistened in the ethereal light. The water looks so clean and clear. The lowest tier had what Fang couldn't bring himself to say.

His eyes sparkled like a kid in a popcorn store—in a windy metropolis. "We found one! We found one! A Chao Garden!"—Suddenly, his mouth turned into a proverbial machine-gun—"Oh my God this can't be happening I knew it was real no one believed me but I knew it was totally real oh my God I just wanna pinch their little faces they look so squishy they're so cute~! Asdfghjkl—Yaaay!"

Gawk.

Gawk.

Snore.

Cedric flinched, since the snore went right into his ear. "Geh…ya sleepyhead."

"Who's there?"

Aiming their eyes across the footbridge, the Chaotix caught sight of a Human girl. She was gloriously pure. Her sunhat and dress were compliments to each other and Paradiso's light. Robin's egg-blue curled about her white hat's crown, finished by a magical bow. Her dress was a Sunday best: an inverse-colored baby-doll gown was boasted by frilly crinoline, sweetheart ankle socks and lacey gloves, as well as white Mary-Janes and a gold necklace. Her eyes were youthful sapphire, and quite excited to see visitors.

A tiny gasp escaped the girl. "Are you here to play with me? Yay, new new friends!" Blonde curls flounced when she threw her arms into the air. "C'mon, say hi, everybody!"

Every single Hero Chao in earshot let out a welcoming coo before any of Laguna's invisible guards could have a say. Most of them lowered their weapons. However, two Applauds kept their weapons crossed on the footbridge, to keep the detectives away. A swarm of Chao had gathered around the girl, and another flock floated over to a skeptical Arsenio, a confused Cedric, a sleeping Vespertine, and a goo-goo-eyed Fang. The little girl laughed lightly, but she wound up being tickled pink. "Hey, that's tickles a lot," she chuckled.

Remaining standoffish, the two Applauds never moved a muscle since the detectives' arrival. A Chao or two went over to inspect them. One poked at its face, while the other played with its tunic. One more peeped its head out from under the cloak's tail; in consequence, the Applaud did a double-take at their laughter.

"I don't even know how this happened."

Arsenio looked back at Cedric.

"They just fell asleep, on top o' me. Now, I'm stuck. Oy…." The crocodile drummed his fingers against the ground.

Arsenio figured that, since Vesper was sleeping, the Chao fell asleep by association. It was a strange phenomenon, but according to Prof. Redgrave's research, it was because Chao were highly sensitive creatures, possibly due to the Trinity of Realities' influence on them. Depending on the realm in question—in this instance, Paradiso—Chao responded well to Human feelings and temperaments. As recounted during a trip with Luka, though a Neutral Chao, it still played with Luka after empathizing with his bout of loneliness. After enough positive or negative exposure, Arsenio had read, Neutral Chao will transform into either Hero or Dark Chao, respectively. One other interesting tidbit was that Neutral Chao were always present in the Human World, but hidden away in secret gardens behind Purgatorio's veil.

They could see Paradiso's Hero Chao because they were in Paradiso themselves. Unlike Angels and Demons, Chao that resided in those respective realms were visible to Humans. The reason for that, however, was currently unknown.

It left Arsenio in a haze of speculation. As well as a cloud of squeezable innocence. One Chao smiled at him. It spotted his hat and made a reach for it. But Arsenio flicked its forehead. "Don't mess with that," he growled.

"Agh, Arsenio!" Fang rushed to the little creature's defense. Embosoming it—into his remarkably flat bosom—he ranted, "Don't be mean to it! It doesn't know any better! They're like babies—so cute, and soft, and squishy—and, and innocent!" An agitated blush unfolded across his muzzle. "Now, be nice! Let it play with you. Where's the harm in it?"

In response, Arsenio showed him a rather blank gaze. He somewhat gave up, and let the Chao play with his hat. It's not like it could chew on it or anything. It was quite a sight to Fang, though; watching it try to adjust the clearly oversized hat was adorable.

"Oh~, you're such a cutie! Look at you—Tee-hee, you're just too cute! Irresistibly cute! Ahh, I'm gonna scream!"

"—Please don't." Arsenio's hat bumped into his chest. Without another word, he simply took the hat off the Chao's head and put it back on his.

A bit turned around, the Chao's eyes spun dizzily. "Chao-chao," it prattled.

Back at Spagonia University…

The University's conference room was full. A fully circular table seated the councilmen that'd entered quietly. One man nodded in greeting to a few others. A bespectacled brunette adjusted her bangs. Another man, curiously reticent in demeanor, peered around the table.

"Has anyone seen Profs. Mandrake and Ulrich?" he asked.

"They're probably just prepping their notes," the first man remarked, thinking nothing of it. "By the sound of it, it sounds like results from the experimental plants on Isla Del Ángel."

"But why convene so urgently?" the woman in black-framed glasses had to ask. "The experiments haven't concluded yet. Perhaps there was a mishap during one of them?"

"The intricacies wouldn't involve the likes of us," he retorted. "It's nothing for us, mere business investors, to worry about. Our contractual agreements state that our monies are to be returned, should anything go wrong with the project. I believe Mr. Balder to be a man of his word." He crossed his arms, as if to end the conversation.

Without further debate, the councilmen awaited the Professors' arrival.

Secreted away, in a nearly invisible anteroom, were both Prof. Mandrake and Prof. Ulrich. In a sense, the room was treated like a sanctuary by both men. Books about energy and other research lined three-quarters of a wall's shelves. A prized tome—one written by Gerald Ulrich, himself—sat in the middle of the lowest one. A golden medallion hung around it. Inside it, a ream of unprecedented discoveries and advancements; cautionary tales of success and failure.

Professor Ulrich never wanted to steal the limelight of his dear friend, Antonio Redgrave. How did the public fully recognize his work, but not Antonio's? It was with his observations that Gerald could look further into the mysteries of Spagonia's ancient life. Freeform sources of energy? Underground labyrinths and unexplainable necropolises? Magical barricades? Preprogrammed traps? Lumen Sages? Umbra Witches? Interdimensional portals?

A visceral confirmation of Heaven's existence?

Prof. Ulrich couldn't look at the book. Despite all the footnotes and references, Antonio Redgrave was still dismissed as a credible source. Gerald's admittance was turned back on him—the critics saying Antonio copied his work. Now that Antonio was dead, there was no way to convince the masses that his work had never been "plagiarized."

Profound guilt creased the old man's forehead. "My dear friend…Oh, Antonio. Forgive me…"

"Gerald, we must rethink our decision to help Balder." His fellow, and another dear friend, Professor Richard Mandrake sounded apprehensive. Eyes on the book as well, he snapped them shut. "He's clearly using us. Our research is something he's been looking into for over 20 years. His means for using it, however, feel dire. I know he's planning something; I can feel it in my gut!"

But Gerald's sullen look struck a heartstring in Richard.

"My dear friend, you're merely a ghost of the man I once knew. Ever since Maria went missing…and Antonio's death before that. I know it hurts to even think about them, my friend."—Both hands came down on Gerald's shoulders—"But I need your brilliant mind once again, Gerald. We're going to put a stop to this madness Balder calls a plan…!"

Off to one side of the room, there stood an altar of sorts. Very much like the Porta Del Paradiso. In fact, it was one of the others scattered underneath Spagonia. Balder's knowledge of them screamed at Prof. Mandrake: How many others were there? And why would he entrust one of their locations to him and Gerald? They were mere humans; Balder was the self-proclaimed last Lumen Sage. Was it another scheme in his so-called "plans"?

The Sage's likeness had no answers for them; the Witch's bust bowed her head in contemplation. Strangely, she was in pristine condition.

Despite the Lumen's vengeance against the Umbra.

Something clicked in Richard's recollection. "Wait a minute. Didn't Balder say one of these portals was active? The lithograph here proves otherwise, but…perhaps, at that time, it was active. Even so, only he can open it." A wrench had wedged itself between mental cogwheels. "Drat! If that's so, could he have been using it at the time, then? That means…he was alluding to…?! Gerald, I've got it! I know where Maria is!"

Just then, as if to speak a dream into reality, the Porta's lithograph vanished. Behind it a pool of pastel light, releasing an echidna, a crocodile, a chameleon, and a weasel. Both gentlemen marveled their arrival—appearing amidst a heavenly aura. The echidna, especially, since he had the little Human girl in his arms. Her wide blue eyes took in the room's décor before spotting the two old men.

She blinked at Gerald. "Grampa?"

Then, all four of her escorts gasped in shock, "Grampa?!"

Gerald and Richard couldn't believe their eyes. Gerald's eyes filled with thankful tears. "Ohh…Maria. My little Maria…You're home."

"Grampa! Hi!" The little girl made a dash for the older man, and jumped into his embrace.

His tears ran down both cheeks. He held on for, what seemed like, dear life. "I've missed you so much, darling. Welcome home."

En Route to Spagonia – Twilight (5:56pm Isle Standard Time)…

Father Balder's attention had snagged on a foresight. At rest now, the Ithavoll Group's CEO relaxed on his luxurious train ride back to the City of Beauty and Knowledge. The evening stars got a head-start on the nighttime display. Highlands created amazing views for whomever rode the route from the island back to the Spagonian continent. Providence Bridge was merely the first leg: An atmospheric achievement, the bridge skipped out from the coastline to hold hands with the manmade island. A "North Star" in the most artificial sense, it became the most modern Wonder of the World.

The multinational summit between the first-world nations had concluded, and it sounded like things were flowing smoothly. It was only a matter of time before the west could join railways with Shamar, Chun-nan and Adabat. Mazuri was included into the mix, but relatively low interests in intercontinental travel were considered. Perhaps more domestic transportation options would procure an, otherwise, out-of-the-question change of heart, Balder had pondered.

Besides, there were Lumen roots ingrained in the southern continent, as well.

Balder retrieved his attention once again. In that moment's pass, his personal aide Daniel had served his supper. Before him Daniel had lain a Caesar salad topped with croutons, salmon chunks, grape tomatoes, and balsamic vinaigrette. Beside him was a dark claret wine, as well as a somewhat ordinary cup of cottage cheese. Steady hands poured both the vinaigrette and wine with no trouble. The train glided along the rails; there was nothing for Daniel to worry about.

After a dutiful bow, Daniel took a seat across from Balder.

"Strange…"

Curious moonlit-ocean eyes looked back at the elegant man.

"I thought I felt one of the Porta Del Paradiso open."

Daniel took a moment to ask, "Ah…Did you, sir?"

"It's not an issue, really. No need to worry, sweet Daniel." He sipped his wine. The single black glove on his right hand glistened cleanly; Balder's wrist swirled the rubicund liquid around and around, in an almost hypnotic manner. He took a bold sniff before imbibing it. "Tell me, Daniel." He set the glass down, locking eyes with the faithful young man. "Have you ever seen…Paradiso before?"

Wild blinks, and Daniel's mind was thrown askew. "Why, no. Never. I don't think my spiritual connection is anywhere near as strong as yours, sir."

"Nonsense. I could show you Paradiso. But, I'll need you to stay by my side…as my 1st Envoy Extraordinary, Odin."

Suddenly, a mysterious glint outlined Daniel's eyes. His pupils burst with light, not the shadowy aperture in normal Human anatomy.—"I need you, Odin, for you are wise and diplomatic. Your interpersonal skills are a treasured asset to me. Do this for me, and your escort to Heaven will be ensured by a ride of Valkyries of my own…!"—Ancient runes emblazoned his iris under brighter aquamarines—"Your service will not go unrecognized. Your heart is pure, your intentions clear. Be not dissuaded from this task—one that only you can do."—The ancient scripts came in the tongue of the Angels—"Be the voice that will revolutionize not just Spagonia, but the entire world. Be my voice, blesséd Odin."

Then, Balder's eyes matched Daniel's.

"CHRISTEOS BUSDIR…" both men spoke in unison. "JUBILEUS QAAL PIAMOS."

The wine glass flinched to the train's curve. Not too far, now; Spagonia was nestled beyond the mountainside.

Spagonia Train Station – Two hours ahead (7:56pm Spagonia Standard Time)…

Darkness had befallen the city's transit station. Notable glasswork stood between the incoming moonlight and team of Umbra Witches. Leading the pack was the ever-vigilant Menhit the Swallow. Kiseru in hand, her hummingbird-embellished zori clacked noiselessly across the floor's steely façade.

Her decorative robe was a shrug over her true uniform: Natural colors mingled with white down. Along her waist, a dark-purple orchid trailed up. Mimicking a kunoichi's under-armor, her eggplant feathers crosshatched from her neck to her thighs. Flaring from her mid-biceps were split kimono sleeves. Triple-belted bands secured the pair.

Sky-tinted glasses allowed her to scan the area, enhancing the moonbeams that poured in. Upon spotting some departing Humans, her silver Umbra Watch flickered. She exhaled a puff over, "It's almost like everything went back to normal after that fight with Fortitudo." The observation made her cross her arms. "Huh. Leave the citizens unsuspecting, eh? It's not like the Coliseum's off-limits or anything," she tagged on, bitingly sarcastic.

Coming up beside her were three of her compatriots.

"More importantly…am I the only one feeling all this bad juju? Or is it just my nerves?"

"No." One contemporary, Jyeshta the Cat, approached her from behind. "The air's pungent with rosemary. Balder wants us to stay away."

Menhit smirked. "He knew we weren't going to listen, so all he really did was give himself away."

Jyeshta growled, her fur standing on end. "Let's get this over with. Here they come!" Then, she threw herself into a felid combat stance.

But then, a bold swagger.

To it, Menhit arched a brow. "Hpmh. Feeling courageous…acolyte?"

After the final word, mystical rays beamed through the stained glass, as if to compete with the moonlight. Angelic sigils barricade the exits, and silky fog clambered over the floor and hid the train tracks. As a departing train's headlights disappeared, an even brighter light burst to life. Fiery glints raced by; metal on metal glided along the tracks. Then, defying gravity, they ran up the walls.

Lips were licked. "One, two, three…Six Enchants."

Anahit the Bat, fully regaled as an Umbra warrior, nodded slyly.

The Angelic wheels chortled at the sight of the women—BANG!—but it was cut short by the newest addition to their ranks.

"No worries."

It was him: Stylo the Hedgehog had returned; albeit with a much darker, yet more confident, aura surrounding him. He could see the Enchants shivering with fear and dismay. His bold sashay crossed in front of the girls. Sleek leather encased most of Stylo's feet, leaving only his arches partly exposed; nearly Saddle in style, but militaristic in grade. Front laces left no bow or tie of any kind. A daring cat-suit all his own graced every curve and every edge. His fur looked like he'd dove into an ink well and let it dry in the sun. Prussian-blue traces meandered throughout the uniform—even dyeing his palms guiltily. Strong magic wafted off the young man, unlike any Witch the world had never known. Especially without a remarkable bust size. His neck ruff remained a snowy white, while a matching trellis sketched out a delicate spider chrysanthemum on his waist.

Fearsome dark-pearl revolvers were anchored to his shoes, as well as taking up both hands. One revolver stayed locked-on to the squadron. "I can take 'em."

"And steal my thunder?" Menhit teased back, "As if."

"What's wrong, Menhit-san?" Stylo winked. "You jealous?"

An irritated flush. "Masaka! Damare! Don't get snippy with me!" She gave him an arrogant snort. "Remember, you still have a final exam to pass, acolyte. Until then, stick with Anahit."

Despite their shivers, the Enchant refocused on the battle at hand. Without too much resistance, they charged at the enemy group. They blared a battle-cry in unison before careening downward. Back-to-back, all four Witches—Menhit, Jyeshta, Anahit, and Stylo—somersaulted out of the way.

Thus, triggering Witch Time: Under the first clock-tick, Menhit brandished her haunted katana, Shuraba. After another, Jyeshta activated her demon-claws, Durga. Then, Anahit blew a kiss over Flighty Freedom's barrel, its rose charm sparkling mischievously. In the final second, Stylo made it count by putting himself in point-blank range of an Enchant. Magnificently tarnished gold greeted its marble forehead. A gymnast's sidewinder maintained perfect balance and accuracy; his body flexed on its own, moving several times faster than normal. He ended up doing the splits, at one point or another. Regardless, he kept pumping bullet after magical bullet.

He felt a smirk upturn one corner of his mouth. "No problem!"

In that moment, Stylo realized a self-assuredness like he'd never felt before: His new weapons—the Twilight Triggers—were going to serve him well, from now on.

I am unsure now, Mother, if I am still seen in Your Order as "good."
This new power has propelled me into a new chapter of my life.
This mysterious destiny has empowered me.
It's also given me a higher—though, dichotomous—purpose.
But, somehow…it feels really fucking good.

In the Quintessence of Proserpine, Amen.