13 DAZE: A Bloodstained Cross

by Heath Oslo

Fallen in the clutches of the devils, will the young dragon ever be set free from his chains? Through tragedy and suffering-this is the story of Issei Hyoudou and his War of Change. A more philosophical take on the events of DxD with some existential themes.

25. Act 23

Act.23 Alize Blue & Moscato: Shidou Fiasco

13th September, Vatican City, Rome, Italy, 13:47 pm

"Take aim. Do not break formation.", Xenovia took the chance to command the rest as she waved her arms to gesture in a series of fluid motions. She was floating two meters above the ground with multiple hexagram pentacles spinning around her, each having a different configuration and purpose for spellcasting. "Prepare for the first wave."

The fifteen members of the Last Battalion plus Irina took various stances. They removed their hoods and entered a battle formation before Xenovia and Saint Lucca of Sicily, each one holding various armaments as the cloaks were pushed behind their shoulders. Some held heavy automatic firearms, another used dual light blades while some held other various tools like blades, knives and small firearms to fight back.

The command was given.

Lucca stabbed an injector with booster drugs into his neck as everyone else did the same to grant them far more speed and strength than their regular base human strength. They were mortal, weaker and fragile in comparison to most paranormal creatures so they had to compensate through tactics, superior tools and drugs to be able to stand up to their foes.

The Angels that were on the ground were of a lesser rank, bearing the standard two wings total, crafted armaments of light and wove mana into various elemental spells to fight back and repel this incoming troops.

Irina found her injector in a pouch on her uniform, twirled it with her free hand and stabbed it into her jugular vein to use the special drug, a one of a kind type using Angel blood to grant her heightened core strength and increase her speed. She emptied the injector and threw it aside, holding her Blood Excalibur in the Excalibur Rapidly configuration as she took out the standard Browning pistol she used in her other hand.

From the other side the footsteps of a legion were echoing. Heavy steps, the sound of a bloodbath coming straight ahead for them. Black clad figures of various height were marching together in a tight knit formation, medium armored in metal and tactical gear. They were humanoid, resembling humans if it were about their stature and shape. They had pure white Venetian carnival masks with black optics behind the material as their heads were covered by hoods that ended into small capes upon their shoulders, bearing no facial expressions due to the eerie masks they used to hide their features. The only thing obvious was the crest of Beelzebub etched onto their shoulders, displayed for all to see their belonging to the rightful heir of the title.

The way they advanced was somehow odd. They were moving fast but it felt quite strange. They held halberds and a riot shield in a tortuga formation, standing close to each other as their steps echoed loudly. The way they ran was like that of some soulless machine, fearless and heavy with each step of their boots.

Dreadnoughts fell from the skies at different spots, emerging from the rubble to join the extermination squad when they flexed their limbs and roared by opening their saurian jaws in a challenge to the defenders. The fifteen meter spawns joined the ranks at the sides as they eyed the smaller number of troops on the other flank, twisting their plumage and javelins to prepare for the first stage of the siege.

"They are coming. Do not let them get past us. This is our last mission.", one of the men spoke grimly despite the fake tranquility he displayed on his rough features. His black hair shone and his eyes were set upon the strange humanoids as he clutched his sabres, clanging against each other in demanding blood. Ewald Cristaldi was ready for battle.

"It seems this is where we get some recognition. Fuckin' Devil scum...", Teodoro Legrenzi cursed. A boy no older than 14, he was thrust into battle under the tutelage of Touji Shidou and Vassily 'Vasco' Strada, both of whom he missed dearly. The margarine blonde boy spread out his angelic wings wide and stood behind a female who held a FR F2 riffle, guarding her back and acting as a support. "Let it be a good hunt and let us not make haste."

"We're already used to big fucks like these. Nothing unusual except it's my free day!", the woman he hid behind shouted in sheer annoyance. She had margarine blonde hair in long tresses with a fringe between her eyes, bluish eyes of a light shade and she looked like someone particular. She wasn't so tall and she was more on the thick side for a body type. "I didn't sign up for a world destroyer event."

"Shut it, Lucina. We're going to die anyways, be it a free day or not.", Irina growled at the female in fright. Her hand held the sword readied while her firearm was loaded and ready to roll.

The incoming troops were nearing them.

Some of the Angels threw light spears at their direction, testing the waters to see how they would react. The spears collided with the riot shields, cracking them in various spots and reaching inside the closed formation to kill the troops.

But the surprise came afterwards. The broken shields were discarded to reveal the unscathed Venetian carnival masks shining with a barrier spell encasing the legion as a protection. The javelins were a mere ornament they stabbed into the ground to act as a resonator field, activating a medium scale spell that disrupted the resistance the barrier had cast on them. It opened a hole large enough to pass unhindered.

From the hole bursted a massive horde.

Deranged, enraged to insanity and dangerous. Flaming fists, elemental tools of celestial design glowed. Spears and axes, multiple levitating swords of Blade Blacksmith hovered lazily while other various Sacred Gears materialized upon command onto the horde. Men, women, children were advancing towards the inside in no set order, running frenzied with no shred of self-preservation nor a sense of fear to detter them from entering the premises in heaps and rows upon the entrance. There was no structure, no order in their ranks as only the drive to slaughter pushed them forward.

And there weren't a few of them. Each one was nothing more than a drone. A mindless, hellbent automaton with no free will and higher cognitive functions other than being able to call forth their gears.

"Okay. We're fucked in the ass really hard.", Teodoro spoke up, stunned and shivering as his real colors revealed themselves and he ignited two light constructs within his palms in a lance formation.

XXX

[~AND Compositions - We Walk Amongst Titans~]

The horde was incoming. Their pace hurried as the Dreadnoughts advanced further, step by step onto the streets. They were still a bit far but it was only a matter of time before they would get here. There was no time to waste, every second was of importance.

Saint Lucca of Sicily brought down his light rapier wing of illumination as a gesture of commanding the forces to mobilize. Men and women formed a thick line in a V-formation, akin to the blitzkrieg tactics of the Deutsch army. The Angels took up into the skies, flapping their wings and charging new armaments of light to attack while some started forming barriers to make shields. They stood close to each other, forming a wall to safeguard the position.

"Wait for it.", Ewald bellowed in a hardened tone. His muscles tensed and he felt the heavy rush of the booster drugs taking effect. His focus intensified and so did his strength and speed.

The horde rushed forward in the same pace, pushing each other and having no formation, save for it's overwhelming number that rivaled the defenders. But all of them had Sacred Gears, deadly and effective and most certainly at a heightened frequency due to the tools used to make an army out of them.

"Wait for it.", Ewald gripped his armaments, waiting for the right moment to strike. "Wait till they cross the line."

The horde was advancing further, unrelenting and spiraling in perpetual madness, craving for blood and carnage with each clang their tools made. They were nearing the line, unfocused and disregarding anything else but to charge forward and overwhelm them with sheer numbers and tenacity.

They reached the aforementioned line.

"Now! Fire at will!", the dark haired man screamed in a war cry as he gave the command to fight back.

The earth shook in forming spikes of concrete and cinder blocks, tall and rigid spines erupted beneath the horde's feet in piercing them at various spots. The spikes were growing in size upon impaling the enemies on sight, stabbing into their bodies and riddled them with bloody holes. They started to stack corpses upon them, dripping with blood and writhing screams echoed in pain.

However, they did not stop.

Climbing over the corpses were new drones, bashing their Gears upon the makeshift wall and flurries of elemental magic flew past them. Blade Blacksmith swords cleaved the concrete formation to free some of the impaled drones who slumped back and yet they kept moving despite their bleeding bodies. Bullets and a rain of spears fell upon them in a storm of shrapnel and mana blasts, blasting holes and puncturing their bodies at various points further, enough to slow down and criple any ordinary man, save those hellbent to take down the enemy with their dying breath.

Humans lost limbs to the counterattack, pushed away by the concussive force of firearms, losing body parts and being soaked in metal slugs and bloody wounds. Ragged, beaten up and reeling back, they paused for a moment before the advance would continue anew.

Those who took the brunt of the attack were still going on despite the wounds that should have put them down - those with lost limbs used their Sacred Gears to form new ones and continue, those who could not proceeded to drag themselves ahead with any strength they had.

Slumping, sprinting, trotting men, women and children from the front row marched forward despite the grievous wounds they had sustained, something sinister drove them to walk further despite the fact that they should be dead. These were no more humans, they were nothing but deadly thralls surging over the bodies of the fallen ones to reach faster their designated target.

The Dreadnoughts took the cue to jump high, spreading out their limbs as they climbed upon nearby buildings and brutally tore apart some of the Angels stationed there. Javelin stabs, ripped cadavers into pieces by the use of their plumage hooks. Torn heads flew down as the echoes of death renewed. Some managed to avoid them, moving away to relocate and fought against the fifteen meter spawns valiantly. Alas, more and more fell victim to the merciless hovering blades of Blade Blacksmith into being pinned and bifurcated at different angles despite their best effort.

A second volley followed to thin out the line but the thralls had adapted enough to make use of the remaining Dreadnought spawns that stood on the ground, the spawns grabbing human bodies and flinging them like cannonballs. The black clad troops had not advanced at all, they crafted barriers to protect the horde from the incoming projectiles as they hid behind the drones.

"Blaze Meteora.", a wave of fiery tongues spread out across the street in rapid succession by moving like a sentient being upon the drones. Those words were squeezed out by the horrified Xenovia as she nearly gave into fear. The Azure Priestess saw their faces; dead and croaking with missing skin and muscles, hanging jaws or eyes peered at her way with no sign of protest or even pain...

She had no choice. If she was to live she would put these things out of their misery.

Her features sharpened in hateful fury as her hexagram pentacles started to spew out more flames to engulf the drones in hopes of burning them. Her grimoires glistened with pure mana as she twitched her fingers in a wide variety of gestures, chanting at a high speed in using Speed Casting. "Scorch the earth in fire, set ablaze thy enemies, Blaze Meteora!", she intentionally made pauses to divide the two line chant into three as to tweak it's purpose. Torrents of flames curved downwards like a staircase upon spreading over the bodies and some Red Dreadnought troops, blasting them with fire from her position.

They still pressed on.

Snipers shot at the thralls with bullets straight for the head, blowing off gray matter in the process. Heads were torn open as blooming flowers upon the cold asphalt and pavement while blood leaked like a river.

The thrown humans dashed across the air in reckless abandon, having a set trajectory as those were picked up because of their Gears. A fan of blades with the properties of the wind popped up in spreading like wings on one of the thralls, making it glide as a sharp metallic messenger of death. The crash course was quite fast as it tore through the left flank and the restless drone swung both appendages into a few slashes with precision, deeply ingrained into the man when he spun and jammed his blades into the face of an Executor and then swiftly dealt a blow into the nether regions of another.

This one began to carve fellow humans left and right, severing tendons with superhuman strength. Executors fell under it's blades before the creature was put down with three bullets to the head. But the human corpse blew up into pieces by a surgically attached bomb inside his stomach wall, taking several men and women with him.

More of these were incoming.

"Charge! Now is the time!", Saint Lucca led the Last Battalion fighters who were on the ground forward, spearheading the retaliation in battle ready cries with his light rapier wing tucked closer to his chest.

The blitzkrieg formation sprinted head on - blasts of arcane mana lanced forward as they pressed on, shooting down the incoming human shaped projectiles. More and more Executors followed suit and gave chase with courage beating into their hearts.

"Come forth, Garmr! Sea Bishop!", Irina growled in rage as two custom pentacles formed, each one bearing a different elemental Affinity to summon two of her middle tier Guardians simultaneously. Due to their low maintenance cost they would be the ideal beings to evoke in assisting her.

The pentacles glowed as a black dog with ruby spines burst out in seeking it's prey. Red bloody eyes and ugly fangs with dancing flames poured out of the dog's mouth as it lept forward for the kill. A small sized fish with faded blue scales and a tail of a similar shade came forth, cyan blue eyes shone as a single gem rested upon it's head.

She dashed forward, readying for the collision. Her use of Rapidly accelerated her body beyond human boundaries, making her leap ahead in one unnatural jump as she took aim and pressed the trigger of her firearm, blowing up the head of a woman carrying a flaming axe of some darkened metal. Her Blood Excalibur was swung as she met the first combatants at her direction, parrying a blow and she ducked to the left before she brought her leg against the woman's knee in a kick. Her next move was to bring down her blade upon her head, splitting it into two as the edge caved into her neck. She placed her gun into her chest at point blank - shooting her right into the heart and freeing her sword from the mushy neck to avoid getting cleaved into two by the dying swing of the axe.

"S..u..m...n...all...m...e..."

Garmr moved near her back in biting down a child with metalic blades in place of it's arms, digging it's teeth into the shoulder area and drawing blood as the drone rattled in an attempt to free itself from it's clutch. The summoned creature pounced back before it spewed out flames from it's jaw at the child's legs but it stood strong and extended it's hands to become elongated spears that stabbed an Executor in the leg.

The man was preoccupied in fighting off three drones that were overpowering him until the Sea Bishop crafted icicles from the moisture in the air, producing frosty projectiles that shanked two of them in the head and in the back. The Executor managed to cleave the third one with two strikes at the chest in leaving bloody deep gashes that made the thrall reel back in pain, if it actually felt pain in the first place.

Ewald was killing drones left and right with his swords, parrying the flesh from their bodies as he tried to keep them at a distance. His merciless onslaught continued on until a Sacred Gear user drove a spear against his back, tearing the cloak and rattling him even through the armored plates on his back. Another one, a woman whiplashed her icy claws at his arm in cutting him in a few places before she was shot down by supporting fire from the margarine blonde female Lucina.

More and more bullets rained upon the woman as they left holes in her flesh and singed her limbs in metal slugs that ripped her body apart.

Teodoro Legrenzi threw one of his lances upon an elderly man but the lance dispersed as it was consumed by tendrils of darkness bearing snake heads. The man had foam across his lips while his Gear lashed back on command, sending shadowy snakes that quickly grinded fangs over the hastily made barrier the boy made. They cracked the surface in prying open the shield, slithered inside and met a second wall of light with pikes extending from it. Those pikes impaled the snakes but more and more drones came upon him in bashing against the makeshift light barrier.

Before his shield could be breached, help came from the Executor with the big braid on her back.

Xenovia was hovering in the air, gathering mana to craft a series of threads that merged into spears with tips made from ethereal light. "Have a mouthful of heavenly love!" she bore a sneer when she threw down those armaments upon the ground, stabbing several thralls but it only gathered their focus onto her. She saved Teodoro in the last second but she could not save others in dire need.

A few Angels were brought down and torn asunder beneath the unforgiving might of flaming swords and metalic talons shredding their wings. Thralls dug hands and swords into them and tugged - blood and dying screams were heard but it was too late to save them.

"There's no end to them! They keep getting back!", Linda Sellzen yelled in fear and frustration. The sister of Freed Sellzen was nicked and had slashes at her arm and her thigh as she fought back in trying to cull the thralls. Dejection and hopelessness were growing but she didn't stop, no matter how many she cut down. "Francesca! Support!"

A petite woman with auburn hair threw Black Keys with Uriel's name in Latin engraved on the shaft at the incoming thralls. The blades resonated with one another in casting divine wrath onto the mindless thralls; the twin short swords burst into flames as they shanked two drones in the head and in the shoulder, connecting the fiery wisps into a binding chain that gave time for Linda to kick one back and the other fell with it due to the chain.

The darkness user crashed his snake tendrils over the corpse of an Angel and threw the bloody cadaver against Lucca, flinging him to the ground where a small girl struck at his light wing with a hammer of water. Another one pounced over him, twin daggers of gold aimed at his eyes.

"Fuck you!", the auburn haired Luciano Alba swore with disgust when he pried free his light rapier wing and cut the dagger user right in the neck and broke the leg of the girl, leaving a deep gash that made her slump back before he rose up and rammed his limb across her face in putting her down. Upon contact with the two Sacred Gear daggers, Luciano used his Miracle of Almagalm to merge them with his light wing to cover his other arm in a protective casing with serrated edges that could rend through mana with ease, acting as a canceler and a secondary defense.

The girl was struck. The blades dug into her and cauterized the wounds before they separated from the main body. She had no time to respond properly other than to sluggishly lift her war hammer and thus limped on the ground, jerked and the bomb planted in her stomach was triggered.

He had only a moment to rearrange his limb into a protective casing to survive the explosion, throwing him off into crashing against several deranged thralls in knocking them down.

"Lucca! I'm coming, brother!", the voice belonged to Irina in a cry for the man whom she considered as a brother. No wonder people called her Little Lucca due to her fawning over the pupil of her dear, missing father. She dashed across, jumping higher than a human could due to the acceleration and booster drugs acting up before she switched Blood Excalibur to the heavy Destruction formation, landing with a weighted blade that dug into the asphalt upon touch.

Cracks spread in succession at the center, offsetting balance and focus for a second to make the nearest Sacred Gear users fall on their faces, knees and more. The signature of Destruction flared up to life in striking a few more. More bullets went around from the snipers at the roof. She crept with heavy steps and gasped for air because she was getting tired - it was hell when two Dreadnoughts, one black and one red jumped near her position, squashing Executors and thralls alike in barring the way to Luciano.

The two fifteen meter titans roared in a battle cry as they prepared their armaments to initiate combat.

"Dear god...", Irina froze upon the sight of these hellish spawns barring the way. Thralls were incoming, leaving her with no option for escape but to hope she could get away in the nick of time.

"..Call...m..e.", that ringing she heard again but couldn't understand clearly.

The black Dreadnought stomped the ground with the heel of it's foot, sending a tremor strong enough to shake anything in it's wake as the second one swung it's javelin straight for Irina before any other drone would rush and end her life.

Her Sea Bishop defended her by phasing before her and made a physical barrier of ice by using the moisture in the air. Transparent frozen layers bonded together in a simple squarish shield that met the javelin's edge head on, breaking underneath the pressure the creature put through it's swipe, but despite the ice Guardian being of a mid tier, it withstood and ice began to spread over the mass of the javelin in traveling upon the shaft to the arm.

It was enough so Irina could pounce back and spin in sending a flury of Destruction as the shield collapsed into bits, aimed at the freezing limb of the spawn. The wave crossed the line, smashed against the appendage and it was no more. The titan tumbled for a second in registering the lack of it's limb but a lance of fire scorched the eyes it had into blinding it. Garmr had arrived to assist his Summoner in tearing through thralls but it had sustained injuries that limited the time it had to manifest to mere seconds.

A thrall was about to stab her axe of earth into the twin tailed Executor's lower back while another one leapt at her with bearing red steel arms with sharp claws to make paste out of her head. The second Dreadnought threw it's fist forward to act as a battering ram with the goal of killing her in one blow.

Two Black Keys shot at the man and woman; gutting them in the chin and the other suffered a blow to the head when they reached their target, forming earthly walls through the name of Archangel Michael engraved on the shaft, thus buying time and making a shield to slow down the red spawn.

Irina seized the chance as her Sea Bishop made a pillar that shot her in the sky, making her twist in the air and she was above the spawn when she gripped Blood Excalibur Destruction in an inverse grip and left the rest to gravity. She fell down in gaining momentum with an inertia dampening sigil glowing on her forearm. Destruction went through the beast's head as she screamed, covered in blood and having discarded her Browning pistol, forcing her blade to resonate and unleash a pulse into it's whole body.

It was about to explode until Luciano stabbed his wing into it. Utilizing the Gear he merged temporarily with through his Miracle, the auburn haired man turned the big monster into dust before it could kill more, swiftly having knocked down a few thralls to do it.

Irina was pulled back by a stepping seal through Xenovia's casting, evading more Sacred Gear users and threw her back far away from the skirmish to land somewhere safer. A bolt of blue mana crashed against one of her hexagram pentacles, imbalanced her enough to fall onto the ground. Yet, the Azure Priestess curled and relocated one of her pentacles beneath her back to break her fall and spring onto her feet as more flight enabled users rushed to end her life.

One of them was a child with red hair and freckles, flying through the use of hovering crystal wings and shot green shards at her while the other one was an elderly man with missing legs and jaw that used watery limbs to dig into one of her protective hexagrams.

The cobalt haired Executor chanted, "Iron cage around my body, heed to thy master, keep me from the hands of wicked!", calling forth iron to seep through her pentacles in stretching like a blanket around her to meet the water limbs and protect her from the shards. She felt the impact on her shield in pushing her down to the asphalt where she slammed and spat blood.

"Xenovia!", called out Linda Sellzen who rushed to her aid, slicing troops before her, sustaining an arrow to the shoulder as she dove further and threw one of her sabres into the skull of a burly man battling an Angel.

Suppressing fire continued to rain, metal slugs and pellets flew in blowing ruinous craters into men and women who stood in the way. Blasts and arcane mana responded in kind.

Ewald managed to grab Lucca and lifted him up, standing back to back and furiously fought with ferocious frenzy - parrying flesh from bone and ending lives with no finnese was his speciality. The problem was not the strength of these thralls, they've killed many High-Class Devils before and subdued an Ultimate at a great price. It was because they were so damn many and didn't stay down! These things were no human beings despite looking like that, they were nothing but soulless machines of slaughter coming and coming back for more.

"We need to fall back, Captain. We can't put all of them down.", he spoke through spitting some blood, never taking off the terrible, horrified look on his face. The second-in-command looked around him, seeing a massacre unfold. More and more fell victim, struggling to breath men were chopped to pieces by the Sacred Gear users and Dreadnought troops.

Flying debris fell onto the ground; chunks of buildings rained, smoke and concrete marred the ground in smashing the asphalt into bits. Craters formed upon each hit while squashing humans left and right. Some of it killed a few Dreadnoughts, taking down Sacred Gear users and Executors alike in a merciless storm of shrapnel.

"Shit. Look out!", Ewald pushed Luciano away in the last moment, sending him backwards and kicked him next to get him away with his enhanced strength. Luciano fell flat a few meters away in a hurried pace as he gave into fear and moved away seconds before the impact.

A chunk of concrete landed in the previous spot. Exactly where Ewald Cristaldi was standing, being impaled in the ribs by a filthy thrall and the man cleaved his head with a final swing of his weapon. He only made one quick smile that his comrade could not see.

The debris sprayed blood. Ewald Cristaldi was no more...

"Retreat! Fall back!", Teodoro roared as he started to run for his life, driven by the primal necessity of survival. Fighting turned into a full blown retreat under the support of fire suppressing drones to make an opening.

Xenovia and Linda rushed back to the defensive line where the Azure Priestess wove walls of concrete and asphalt to rise as more and more retreated in a bid of survival. They were demoralized, morale was weakened and only survival dictated the course of action to be taken. Irina was shooting thralls with her second firearm, lending support to Lucina and the snipers who fell back from their hiding spots. Angels hovered above the walls in a panic, giving into irrationality in the wake of the unrelenting drones who did not stop despite grievous wounds and missing limbs.

Teodoro was struck in the left wing by a knife as he was rushing to safety, falling on his feet and three thralls with an axe, claws and a wispy arm pounced at him. There was no time to defend, the walls were closing up and he couldn't fly over due to the knife being lodged into one of his joints. He tried to get back up but the child with the claws gripped his ankle and began to drag him back despite sustaining a light lance into the jaw by Teodoro's hand.

"Not today...", he was about to die. He didn't think any further but to twist his lance and make mush of the child's face, no sympathy or disgust could bring him to spare the enemy because it was a child like he was. Screw it! His own life mattered far more.

The woman with the axe raised her tool with both hands, aiming for his head while the elderly man brought his wispy limb to break his other wing. About to be carved and bashed to death, he rolled around and stabbed a pike into the leg of the axe user. It wouldn't have been fast enough to kill them as he was about to be surrounded.

A bullet struck the elderly man in the forehead while a wing of light split the woman from the shoulder down. Saint Lucca managed to reach him in the brink of time, killing the woman but her axe instead grazed into the boy's shoulder, leaving a gash on the surface but not so deep. He kicked the old man and picked up Teodoro with his normal hand and dragged him towards the walls.

A hole opened in the walls, where Francesca Bianchi and Lucina Vincente picked them up a second before the spawns and thralls could get a hold of them. The hole closed, crushing the arms of a drone that tried to enter.

"Balance...Break!", finally, one of the Venetian mask clad beings muttered under it's breath the key to the gates of oblivion.

The said figure walked a few steps before the rest in a dignified pose of victory, confident in their own power and unparalleled ego to show off. The German accent was quite heavy behind each word no matter how much they tried to speak English without it.

Behind the soldier who stepped forward something begun to take shape, gaining mass and combusted to take a rudimentary shape before it spread around her like willowy wisps or tendrils. The wisps started coiling around each other in forming a structure, resembling an ancient crucifix as the air burned with the putrid, unpleasant smell of brimstone and incense.

It was a two meter tall crucifix of purple flames that further expanded to change shape into something mobile and humanoid in wake of it's master. Six wings composed of purple flames with a white outline burst from the cross as a maddening screech followed - legs spread out and arms covered by the sleeves of a nun's habit followed. Clawed and wrapped with rosaries were they as they wove an Executor's sword within the right palm and a spade in the other. Next, the rest of the body materialized upon the cross with an Inquisitor's plating on the breasts standing over the clerical garments, a beaded rosary rested on the surface as the face of the creature was revealed. Patches of straight hair cascaded around it's neck, reaching down to the chin in flat bangs while a symmetrical, evenly cut fringe rested on it's forehead, nearly reaching the eyes. Those were seen underneath the headpiece of fire, being made of the same type of matter as the whole mannequin.

It had two empty sockets instead of eyes and wide stretched lips in a Glasgow smile where the edges clearly separated them from the healthy look they should have. It was a mockery, resembling more a wretch than the typical image of a nun. The large crucifix rested on the mannequin's back and twisted until it became an X while smaller ones manifested around it as levitating crosses around her head as if they were a halo.

[Incineration Anthem: Santo Dell'Ira Il Martire Sulla Croce!]

The Venetian mask was removed to show the face of a young female of twenty years in age. Symmetrical thin eyebrows and a small nose, puffy cheeks with a rosy tint upon white skin were shown. She wasn't anything extraordinary, bordering between pretty and unattractive in the middle ground of average if her thin, luscious lips were to be ignored as her defining trait. Features marked by nothing more than the plagues of the mind was her visage, lost in the moment of admiration for the carnage her mindless comrades performed even if she was stunned herself by their sheer brutality and efficency. The eyes of murky and watery blue with a bluish-grayish scattering around the pupils blinked twice.

Flaxen blonde hair in a chin length hime cut with sharp bangs at the ears, a fringe similar to that of her mannequin stood on her head in pure mimicry. The girl even used a black hairband diadem with a small violet bow on the right side as an accessory to make herself look better or even cute in her demented judgement. It wasn't a bad look if only the disgusting smile forming on her lips wasn't there.

"KILL THEM ALL! To the last man and woman in this city! Not a single one is to be left alive!", her manner of speech was mostly composed of commingled English and Deutsch pronunciation in communicating through her accent, belonging to that of the cities in Western Germany.

Cold, unsympathetic, full of hatred and pride it was when the girl narrowed at the walls erected before her. "Ich brauche einem sport. Das ist so gut für mich! Ahh, ja!" she switched to her mother tongue as she relished in giving commands over others with no reservations or anything to stop her as some higher authority.

Walburga Dressler, former(escaped, as a matter of fact) asylum patient from Bremen and current matron of the Hexenacht Faction was here to lay some waste. Her mannequin was a reflection of herself, mirroring her looks and being symbiotically bound to her in acting as an avatar of her will. It also doubled as a Channeling tool for her spellcasting abilities and hexes, requiring no one else other than herself to bind a fragment of her psyche into the crucifix to animate it. And she was one mean, mental bitch with a severe case of paranoid schizophrenia and megalomania.

A wave caused the remaining Sacred Gear users to initiate their Balance Breakers on command. Compelled and silent they stopped any movement to tap into their powers to bring out the next level of a Sacred Gear.

Cloaks of darkness formed. Multi-limbed appendages spread out in holding weapons as claws sharpened and some became armored shells to bind the broken bodies into place. Wings of elemental magic fanned out with zeal. Metalic suits and weapons were brought out, animalistic forms took over the human bodies to call forth the beast within.

Animated snakes and metal skin clad some of them. Swords with different properties made limbs and users became centaurian in shape. Pinions of steel encased the back of one. Hammers and flaming swords with a luster glowed in demanding blood. Hounds and leonine based Gears took over thralls to give them a hunting pack and an lion avatar in the body of a small girl, making her sprout all of the features of a feline while maintaining her humanoid form.

[~Robert Slump - Abandon Earth~]

"Now then.", Walburga addressed her mysterious peers in Venetian carnival masks with a gleeful, sardonic smile that seemed rather civil in comparison to her usual outburst of violence. "I'm sure my mother would be proud of me. I even had an epiphany earlier so... Let's make mother proud, my dear.", she turned to her mannequin Saint Ira as if it were her very own mother Augusta Dressler.

A memento of the deceased hedge witch left in the care of her daughter(she always thought that way even if it was never true), Walburga purred in a cringe inducing tonality that was like nails on a blackboard.

It was quite twisted given that she thought her mother was evil for having sent her off to a mental institution for nearly killing a few hedge witches over a teddy bear familiar back in the days. It was done as the painful last resort because she was harder to control and she wasn't so easily restrained. She didn't take her pills and lashed out at her mother at the slightest provocation she perceived as an insult to her greatness.

"You can slaughter them now. I need to go home at six." the flaxen haired blondie waved her arm in pointing at the walls. She was absolutely calm, maybe even bored by the way she responded with a mere civil smirk that was anything but pleasant and nice. It was quite stupid and strained as if her life had no meaning. "So make it quick. Chop,chop the golden slayer. Cunts and hoes are best deposed. Flame them up like roasted chicken. Tear them till those pervs are weeping. I don't care about no peeping.", Walburga sung a song she made up on the spot.

Then she yelled out, "Kill them all!"

The thralls resumed their attacks, trampling over the bodies of their slain comrades and dead Executors alike. Sprinting slower than before but as twice as frenzied than earlier, the wounded ones really slowed down as the damage was starting to affect them like it should have but they continued to run towards the walls.

Walburga herself walked cackling as her Saint Ira mimicked her actions, since it was her in a way so it was quite adept at imitating her master/self. Inverted pentagrams were made by both mannequin and hedge witch as a means of using long range magic.

The other masked beings started walking besides her as equals, silent and menacing. Around ten magicians and hedge witches aided their leader by appearing through the asphalt as the barrier had almost repaired the hole from whence the drones sprang forth, making it so only a mere ten could have passed and not the whole platoon of Walburga's Faction.

Those other beings were perhaps Devils but they would be weakened as they could not get near any holy establishment nor consecrated land. The same applied to any member of Celestial who tried to go down in Hell; risking the loss of their powers due to the lack of connection to Heaven and the daunting prospects of the darkness weakening them in a Devil infested domain. Only those who were specifically chosen to preside over the boundary between both realms were truly mighty in either spot. The same applied to any high ranking Angel.

"Ohhh, I'm so gonna get laid tonight. I'll have that ginger boy for dinner~" Walburga hummed as she was about to break down the defense.

XXX

13th September,Casa di Cura San Pio X hospital, Via Francesco Nava 31 street, Milan, Italy, 13:35 pm

"Why do i have to do this again?", Eleonora Florence-MonBlanc murmured in pure annoyance over the task she had to accomplish. The tall girl was waiting in the custom made, four seater Lamborgini Murcielago of her cousin who was currently working in the operation room. Even if she had agreed to help, the blonde woman was more than annoyed for the earlier mention of the stupid fucker she hated so much.

She was sitting on the front seat as Castor made sure to keep her away from taking the back seat. Because if she did, they would have had to listen to unpleasant banter between her and Vali who wasn't going to keep her mouth shut and it would escalate to some serious nuisance both men did not want to have any part in. She was kinda sour on the way to the hospital, frowning and chewing on some snacks to keep herself occupied as she didn't quite feel like talking with the silverish blonde girl being around.

Castor was sitting in the back, patiently waiting for his closest friend to finish his work and get ready for the day. It was today, the one they had anticipated to happen and took precautions. The African Major tapped on the seat before him in trying to ease his mind and remain aloof. He chose to answer her question with a mere reminder, "Because we need the big guns, Eli. Thus we brought you here. Please be patient and it's time to roll, soldier.", he retorted in his usual calm, softspoken voice with a confident tone. He moved his fingers around the two dog tags he always carried around his neck as it was a reminder of the many battlefields he had fought upon.

And the city of Rome was going to be the next one. Another battlefield to fight upon with the stakes raised higher than before.

Eleonora blinked and narrowed her gaze upon hearing that. It did spark her curiosity as to turn around and peer past her seat in a look demanding an explanation, curiosity and mere interest. "So we go and bust some fuckers, get out and call it a day. Sounds just like a job for me then. As i told you, I'm in. And do i get a suit or something?", her green eyes with greenish-gray scattering peered in a mellow gaze despite the sourness she usually presented on her face, becoming a bit more comfortable and the way she said that was her ego speaking. She was prideful and smug after all so she couldn't exclude those in anything she did.

Vali shrugged in looking through the window, watching for something to happen as time seemed to go slow for her. That child earlier made her remember the times when she used to be like that and it had her thinking about her late mother and those beautiful summer days she would take her out in the park back at her home in Sofia. Seeking something while gawking at the distant past, trying to stop herself from thinking about anything, Vali fiddled with the flower in her hair to fix it. Wearing the dress wasn't that bad even if she was not used to things like these, she felt girly for a moment and it wasn't that bad actually. It was like looking at a different person in the mirror for her.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's get this over with.", disinterested she was when she said that out of habit. She didn't pay attention to the fiery girl in the front, they were quite similar so they would probably clash and the thought about what she saw earlier still haunted her. That thing... so that was the sort of monster the Brigade was trying to free by breaking the seals scattered around the world. Guilt took her by surprise for having aided that plan, it might have been a way to get closer to her grandfather and kill him for everything he caused her but she always felt conflicted about some of the things she had to do.

Eleanora huffed. She crossed her arms before her chest and looked at the mirror in seeing her distracted face casually peeking at her and then swiftly glance at the other side as to avoid her. Truly, the first impression both had of each other wasn't quite good and neither one of them did anything to change it. "I don't like you. I'm just doing this for my cousin and those children."

"I don't like you either so let's just leave it at that." the ocean blue eyed Vali retorted back with her eyes rolling. She couldn't bother to fight with this chick now nor did she felt like it was the right thing despite the need to slap her for her behavior. It was quite funny how she got annoyed by the aspects of her personality that she herself possessed - arrogance, smugness and a sense of pride that were a coping mechanism. "But it seems we'll have to pretend to get along. I need some fresh air, this colar is tight."

The Cambion tried to unbutton her sleeveless dress shirt but the buttons didn't seem to budge. The skirt felt odd and the corset below her bust made her uncomfortable so she opened the door and went out of the car for some fresh air.

Castor nodded and did the same, leaving the Calamity Queen alone for a moment.

He went around the car and opened up the trunk to unearth two big paper bags and a pack of candy bars. He tossed one of them to the White Dragon Empress in sending her a friendly smile to relax and make sure she felt right. He was a man of few words, speaking only when it mattered the most as someone was needed to say it.

"I saw you earlier with the kids. You seemed happy in a way, you know." he left the bags and took one of the candy bars as he leaned over the hood and took a bite from his dessert. "I guess it reminded you of many things. But don't forget that life continues on. Be it hard and heavy or something uneventful, we would always carry our regrets to the grave with us. So why not try to make the best out of the situation and turn that frown upside down?"

"It reminded me of my mother... I miss her dearly and i would do anything to even the score. I was all alone...", Vali looked down at her feet in reminisce, painfully eating her candy bar while her tone grew more sentimental once again before she looked up at the sky in a grim expression. "...i still don't see why you would spare someone like me. If it were me I'd have probably killed you instead of letting you live." she didn't deny anything.

"You're not as bad as you think. Sometimes we need to do everything in our power to survive. The world is bigger than you could ever imagine but that doesn't mean that you should give up and drown in hatred.", the African man relaxed further as he continued to speak. "I used to be angry at the world. I hated how much i couldn't change things but i let it go. I did what i had to do. But then everything changed. I met people with whom i could feel content and live together, so why don't you try it? You needed some help so why not take it?"

She thought again for a moment.

"Hmm, you might be right about me. I guess it doesn't hurt to try, right? I'm not the stupid girl i used to be. My eyes are open now and i know what i did was wrong so i want to be better. Do better, be a stronger person and prove them wrong. I'm not a monster.", Vali slid her hand inside her dress shirt and took out a silver sun rosette on a silver chain to take a good look at it.

A symbol of her heritage. It was a present from her mother Lyudmila for her seventh birthday as a memento to never forget who she was, where she came from and to never forget her identity as a human being.

She gazed upon the rosette her mother gave her, inscribed with various sigils and the Y with two lines in the middle, with hope. It was a symbol the Bulgars wore on their necks before the rise of Christianity back in the sixth century before Khan Asparukh founded the First Bulgarian Empire in 681. Back when the God of the Sky Tangra was venerated as a guardian of the many tribes that set foot on the Balkan Peninsula and fought with Byzantine many times.

"И точно затова ще започна първо със себе си(And that's why i will first begin with myself)", she now shot a determined glance at him, making an involuntary smile on the bright chart of niceness. She dispelled the negative thoughts she had about this. The smugness came back full swing as she arrogantly curled her lips into something she wanted to present with pride. Her bright smile with the feeling of snark and the glamour she had.

"Well said for a gold digger. I must praise you for your sincerity even if you're a terrorist scumbag." clapping was heard from the front where Eleanora stood amused. There was some lightness behind her tone, not being snarky nor overbearing but aligned to a far more whimsical nature. The thin blonde girl leaned on the front door and bore a lax smirk like what could be expected from her whole familia. She and Doctor MonBlanc were the more normal ones of the family which didn't speak any better about them since they were from the eccentric side of their club.

"We're not together, you damn woman. I'm his assistant or something.", dignified was the correct word to describe the pose Vali took at the moment as to stand up.

It wasn't so begrudgingly false as she used to think before but it didn't mean she had let it go about being kidnapped as some damsel in distress and getting embarrassed by the Doctor. It was like some hobby of his to cause mischief and spew awkward questions at her to make her feel puzzled. "And you're a mean bitch, too."

"A really sour, mean bitch with anger issues and a heart of gold. Emphasis on the mean bitch part.", Castor added his two cents to the conversation in pure honesty. He had a sense of humor after all.

This made the Italian girl cross her arms and switch to an awry grimace that seemed rather cute than anything menacing she could normally produce. Her pride would not allow her to show weakness before him, she did try to present her better side while she was around people she liked.

"Dammit, Cas. Not you too?! Am i really that bad?", she carefully tested the waters by appealing to the Major's goodness as to know how to get back at him in a sticky situation where she would return the favor. It was quite the frazzled look she had now upon having heard that. She did sour a bit. Just a little...

"No kidding, girl. You got nothing on me. Let's begin." he threw her one of the bags and the other one found it's way in Vali's hands. Those were specifically designed for them to use because what sort of idiot ran into a fight with no protective gear or a damn kimono?

He seriously questioned that Pendragon boy and his feline compatriot Kuroka about their choices in apparel.

"We need a good spot to change since i can't use magic." Vali muttered with a very narrowed look at the extremely tall man.

XXX

After some minutes the two girls and gentleman returned.

Eleanora had switched her jeans and jacket for something that was requested by her cousin and approved by her. Her tall and thin form was now clad in a full body catsuit with a big zipper on the neck. It was quite tight and shiny underneath the rays of the sun; it consisted of a black catsuit with various padded sections on the back, elbows and kneecaps as those were extremely vulnerable. It had a high colar with two metal studs on it as well as a bullet resistant Kevlar plating on the inside of the chest area to cover her breasts and she wore an reinforced, microfiber brassiere. Comfortable shoes and weighted biker gloves were included. It had some red accents on the biceps and a few lines on colar.

She still looked fragile and her thin legs didn't seem like they were racking in experience for running. She had good proportions and symmetry so the catsuit showed everything there was about it. Her light blonde hair was brushed past her shoulders and retained the pink bow. Her sharp eyes of a very light green with a grayish-green scattering were covered by a pair of black sniper shades.

The skinny, tall girl grimaced in a coy look with her right brow raised as if she was asking for confirmation about her appeal. She oozed confidence and appeal in everything she did, making it known by any means necessary. Eleanora stretched her arms a few times to get used to it and pulled on the catsuit to adjust it properly.

Vali Lucifer had a skintight suit with no accessories other than some zippers and a belt on her waistline. It had a high colar and some white lines here and there, running shoes and she kept the gloves from earlier since they were pretty comfortable. She unzipped the front a bit to make it easier to breathe, pulling down the zipper midway to reveal her cleavage as she always did when wearing a V-neck shirt. It wasn't so much as to flaunt herself but more on the habitual practice with a sense of pride in her looks. Yet, she smugly gleamed at the other girl in a mockery of a smile, conceited in showing her who was better as she slid her hands down to her perfect rear and closed her left eye in trying to make some dastardly cute expression.

Maybe in the end she did want to flaunt her breasts since they had good volume and hit the 88 number.

She left the long silverish blonde hair, which was past her mid-back, to flow freely since she ditched the big braid to return it to it's usual form. The yellow clip and the flower accessory were removed. Instead, the Cambion placed a leather jacket over her shoulders and a black cap to make it a little less conspicuous.

Not that anyone would recognize her except for a few individuals because she always used the Scale Mail for any meetings between the other sub-factions of the Brigade. Almost everyone thought that she was a man because Albion had exerted his influence over the system and always picked men to be his hosts while she was the first female host in history.

"Now all we have to do is wait.", Eli took that as a challenge and unzipped her catsuit as well. She wasn't going to take this provocation lightly, she had her own charm to compensate with. Because of her superior height and frame she looked less endowed despite having roughly the same size with an inch or more on top. If that bitch could show some sex appeal then she could too!

"Dear gracious, do i have to be the judge in this?", Castor spoke in a frustrated intonation. He towered over both of them, dressed in his tactical gear from the days when he was a Major in the African army and the nickname stuck since then.

Eleanora eyed him in a serious glare, putting up a questioning look behind it that literally meant "yes, you should." This was going to be a serious matter if he didn't make them get inside the car and cease any possible hostilities for the time being.

The Doctor returned to the parking lot behind the hospital, carrying a suitcase and wearing his hospital scrubs over his regular clothes as he strolled around rather nervous upon reaching the car. He took the driver's seat and handed the suitcase to his cousin next to him as he put the belt on.

"Stella will seriously kill me for this... Oh, well. That's her job anyways so let's hurry up. I don't know if we're gonna make it on time." he expressed worry in any possible bickering with the remote control unit he had brought from the world he was stranded before having found his way back home. He always took advantage of the situation in getting some free time despite being responsible but he had to juggle between work and other activities that demanded his attention.

He placed the key, turned it on and started the engine. "This is going to be one hell of a ride. Don't die, okay?", he made it awfully clear to run away when the heat starts packing. No matter the circumstances. Nothing else mattered since they were doing this by their own volition.

He left the parking lot as he drove away and headed towards the street with the intention of getting on the highway road to make it faster.

"Covering this up would be really hard. The government is onto something and then again", he mussed over with nothing serious behind it, "this is so gonna hurt on the taxpayers but it's not like any officials would give a fuck about it. It's all gonna be the taxpayers finances that would have to cover up the damage. Aside from the rest of the world growing suspicious every day, it's only a matter of time till they get enough proof and take actions against the paranormal. They're onto something."

"We can worry about that later. Minimizing collateral damage and casualties is the top priority at the moment.", the taller man grumbled. "And something has been bugging me since awhile."

"What is it, Cas? Is it about our secret plan to murder your ex-wife and get your son back?", subtlety was not one of the Italian girl's strongest suits. The calmness she displayed while saying that was a testament to how much she was holding back out of respect for the gentle giant. It was no secret that she despised that abusive woman and always made sure to scare her away every time she saw her.

The surgeon nodded in agreement with his cousin. He didn't feel guilty admitting that because they really cared for their companion as if he were family. And if anything happens to befall one of the familia meant you mess with the whole house.

"God, no! You still can't give that up, can you?", flabbergasted and sighing in exhalation was the reaction he displayed towards that mention. She had misread his intentions so he took the chance to gently correct her assumption and dissuade her from such thoughts. "Back then Kokabiel asked me if i was one of the new ones. It felt odd because Angels can't procreate so easily which leads me to suspect...", he paused to take a deep breath, "the enemy has made it possible to inflate their ranks and give birth to new celestial beings or rather found a way to convert them. Chesare, does your father know anything about this?", he directed his inquiry towards the mischievous surgeon at the front.

"Beats me. My father is just a local pastor back at the church. If anyone would know it's probably my cousin Dulio." he finished afterwards upon fixing his mirror. "Given how the Underworld has it's method of conversion it's perfectly fine to assume an alliance of sorts or the former case."

Dulio Gesualdo-MonBlanc was the son of his mother's brother, first cousin to the both of them. And he was as eccentric as they were, perhaps even more so. They were a really eccentric Italian familia after all. He had two sisters and a younger brother while Eleonora was the only single child among them.

"I know your feelings on the matter, Cas. I really do-

Castor stopped him from continuing with that. He wanted to say something himself before they would venture down the path. Something in him hardened and his gaze bore an intense feeling of pity, anger and acceptance. He wasn't a person to be ruled his emotions. "It does not matter. Every life matters, be it human or paranormal. Even if they had forgotten, I...have not. There is no difference, each and every life has the same value because we are equal."

"Except social justice warriors. They're fucking ignorant trash. Screw being politically correct and trying to fabricate and twist the truth just because someone isn't happy with reality." the green eyed girl with glasses muttered with disgust when it came to this topic. She was all about naming things with their real names and hated silliness like the terms 'war on terror' because it was utter crap.

"We should get some booze afterwards and throw a party or something. That is, if we make it out alive in one piece. The rest would be waiting for us there." Vali spoke.

"Tina, what time is it?", displaying his showmanship skills with a pure joyous clap of his hands, Doctor MonBlanc fixed his glasses with a finger and jested for her to reply. Somehow it felt lighthearted despite what was incoming, she knew what they could do and how they talked casually like nothing was wrong puzzled her deep down in her core. "And your real name is so much better than that alias you use. I like the way it sounds. So... what time is it, Valentina?"

"Showtime. Fire it up. But we'd be late.", Vali reacted rather emotionally to her real name because only Azazel and her late mother called her that way. It was something special to her.

"Oh, you're damn wrong, girl. We'd be just on time~", Eleonora waved her hand up and the car started to levitate slowly in the air. She was going to use her Gift of Telekinesis for this task, she seriously didn't give a damn about being seen since anyone who did would forget about them.

The rest knew that face very well and what it encompassed; shit was about to get real.

"And Chesare... shave that stupid beard already! Or I'll do it myself!" she raised her voice and slapped his thigh, forcing him to hit the pedal to the metal.

The car literally flew up as it gained momentum, cloaked in a barrier that made it undetectable to the radars and unseen to the naked eye.

"Goddammit! You're fuckin' crazy?!", were the words Vali Lucifer shared as she sunk back in her seat.

XXX

[~Revolt Production Music - Splendor(Extended Version)~]

The hurricanes produced by the wings of Raphael shot down like bullets to meet with the face of a seventy five meter Bandersnatch spawn as weapons and magic supported the incoming attack with zeal. On the other side, Rahab commanded the rays of the sun to gather upon his right hand as to craft a series of pikes made out of sunlight while others called for their arcane powers to shape various sigils.

The unnatural wind dealt damage to the black creature; enough to immobilize it for Jegudiel to command the clouds in gathering together. Pure lightning struck it right in the neck, dealing heavy burns that the Ophanim exploited in dealing additional damage by sending torrents of water and slashes of pressurized air into the wounds. More and more projectiles followed by the second, not sparing a single moment to deliver pain upon it. The hurricanes ruptured the Bandersnatch spawn into pieces that spread all over the place, dealing more collateral damage to the city.

It was down. It didn't rise up.

The pikes rained upon the filthy spawns, impaling them in various areas while the hurricanes ripped apart the torso of another Bandersnatch before it could swung it's massive arms in retaliation. The sunlight pikes darted over the thick skin in spreading like a fire as they connected with each other in a net to constrict the movement of the spawns even if for a moment.

That's what they needed - Raziel's arcane magic was thrown down upon a specific one while on the ground there were fists of earth mass that made their way up the creature in digging into it's limbs and begun to pull down despite the creature's struggle to free itself from the forms that trapped it. Volleys of arrows followed as they were backed up by arrows of dust and earth. Chains and multiple pentacles crashed against the creature in subduing it for Selaphiel to call forth his heavenly armament in the form of a sun wheel that spat out ice and light in the shape of crescents that struck the beast.

The Erelim banded together in conjuring a combined blast of light and elements, joining the fray in blasting a hole through the thick skull of the said monster as the other consecutive attacks landed till the only thing left of it was the massive legs that supported the Bandersnatch. The magnitude of the blasts was tremendous, shaking and rattling the ground like an earthquake when the legs fell down in crushing several living facilities.

Two of the second line of Bandersnatch were down.

"Defend the barriers! We must not let them get past the line!", Barachiel flew straight for the barrier that the main Jabberwocky and Bandersnatch were gunning to bring down. On his right stood Sauriel while the older Zechariah zipped past him alongside Uriel to defend the remaining two barriers and to aid the ones made by their brethren.

Dreadnoughts were thrown towards them but they were blown away by Gadreel's darkness infused spades as the Cadre joined them by acting as the rearguard in bringing down as many of these pests he could. It only made them fly faster to reach out to their brethren who stood unrelenting in defending their post. A part of the Principalities raised walls from the debris over the barriers, making use of the gathered mass to conjure long spikes from them to push away the main Annihilation Maker monsters. Upon those bridges were Powers who threw their armaments simultaneously.

One Principality used the air to gather enough hydrogen and flung it into the open mouth of a Bandersnatch as the weapons of varying nature and the elemental spells merged to force it back. The hydrogen blew up inside it's jaw, making it stumble back with the lower line of teeth missing but it stood tall.

The thirteen main ones were tougher and nearly unstoppable. All of their efforts were nothing but trying to tire them out and pile wounds over wounds in a war of attrition in hopes they would cease their movement and be incapacitated.

Three Bandersnatch flung fists against the constructs, bringing unnatural pressure that ripped apart the walls and killed a good amount of Angelic warriors in the aftermath. Some survived the initial strike so they banded together in weaving a secondary barrier over the already existing hexagonal one, layering defense upon defense as Zechariah commanded them.

Uriel stood in the center, Zechariah was on his right while Sauriel took the left side. Barachiel was behind the Flame of God. They chanted together with Uriel, who raised Deus Solaris above his head, a high ranking spell as the interlocking pentacles of both Seraph and high ranking Angels piled over each other in spreading out and Latin scripture started to etch itself on the surface. It grew bigger and bigger, gaining power and momentum until it became a huge shield of Divine Flames, Light, Water and Air that went over the rest.

It was the Angel Halo of Protection. An eight tier spell that they opted to use. It would offer them enough to gather strength in executing their plan due to the nature of those flames keeping the thirteen harbingers of doom at bay.

"Sister! It's time to show them how too much of anything can become a poison." Sauriel ushered a war cry towards someone specific that lowered herself behind them and flipped the bird to the 200 meter Jabberwocky. She was known to go overboard with anything she did. "Penemue. Now!" he screamed in pure righteous fury, giving her the command to do what she was infamous for.

Penemue focused her mana into several twenty meter long spears of electric green that sizzled with poisonous light. Her Poison Affinity was sublimated through her spears in coating them with a specific light she had used during the Second Faction War. A light poisoning that had killed many, many Devils upon contact that left them to rot, unable to shake off the extreme pain they delivered after removal. The secondary function they had was none other than a regeneration canceling factor that perfectly worked on normal Regenerators and dealt lots of suffering on a True Regenerator.

Penemue smiled in a disgusting grin that was anything but civil - her lips curled upwards since she couldn't hold back at all and with a flutter of her wings did the abnormally long spears levitated past the Angel Halo barrier. Instead of coming out like usual they were amplified into huge polearm structures that glowed electric green with the Divine Flames of Uriel swirling around them.

Penemue sneered as she brought down her hand, cracked her fingers and ushered her polearms forward. "Die, you big fuck! Die!", the projectiles flew straight ahead for the Jabberwocky where they rammed against the cheeks of the beast, there where the armor was thinner.

The special spears connected with it, spreading out like a curse upon it in delivering poisonous light like the x-rays to hamper it's healing factor and give it a good amount of pain. The flames of Uriel danced over the spots they landed on, burning the outer layers of protection while the poison was taking it's time to slow down and possibly cancel the regeneration it had in it's arsenal. The Jabberwocky roared in outrage as it stopped for a moment to regain composure as the properties of the spears were eating away at it's flesh but it was anything far from over.
In response to that, the Jabberwocky opened the two jaws upon it's chest to stretch out. Dark miasma was spat out against the barriers like a garden hose watering plants in the garden. The barriers and shield withstood the taint belched at them, sliding down like raindrops on the surface where it would reach the ground in massive drops.

This wasn't good at all.

From the mass arose warriors. Black lanky figures with sharp sinewy hands and strong legs emerged. Clad in some armor of sorts and bearing filthy wings, these creatures were roughly human sized in comparison to a Dreadnought. They fully formed into something ugly and sick, twisted forms that were only wrong. The creatures took flight, rushing upwards by the beat of tainted wings. Their eyes were purely white, faded and murky pits that held no actual life within them.

Those who could see them felt like their hearts broke into pieces, revolted and fearfully they brought their arms in defense as those things were a hellish phantasm of abominations.

"...no...no...how could...you ...", Sauriel was stunned and shivering by the sight of this. No words did he have in stock to vocalize what he felt. The uncanny valley effect was in place, the sheer revulsion and frightening prospect of this act shook his psyche.

They were clad in celestial armor on their bodies. Garbed in the sashes some wore. Metal clung onto them as before. The wings that dimmed out in holding no more light nor any feathers upon their bones flapped.

Angels.

Dead Angels who were raised to act as the brood of the hellish creature. Tainted, pale features looked at them with no sentience behind them to say they were once something intelligent. Dolls, dead dolls held together by the tainted matter of the World Destroyer. Their brethren were denied a warrior's death, stripped of the safe passing and dignity they had to become something disgusting... No more were they people. They were a brood of an even uglier kind.

The twelve Bandersnatch dispersed, putting distance between each other as every step razed buildings, cars, homes, pavement and anything in their way. Their steps squashed the defenders on the ground into a bloody mess. The bombardment on them did not stop but it would not be enough to completely anihilate them. The Bandersnatch monsters bore ruinous wounds and various marks from the combined efforts of the reinforcements. It didn't stop them from turning tail and moving away from the flames that kept them at bay. Their steps were terraforming the region, causing waves after waves that killed left and right indiscriminately.

The dead Angelic warriors rushed to reach the barrier in a mindless charge, bearing no memory of the thousands of years in experience. There was no gracefulness left in their movement, those were only animalistic cravings encased in a humanoid form.

Menacing. Ugly. Cruel. Lost.

"...Forgive me...my brothers...my sisters...", Uriel did not avert his amber eyes from his fallen brethren for a moment. The fury was gone. It was replaced by morose contemplation, a sense of loss was his visage. To see his very own family being reduced to this state struck his core like the thrust of a blade deep into his chest, where fire burning was only lit up more. "...Forgive me...", he shed a single tear before he brought up Deus Solaris and ignited the Flaming Sword that was the bearer of the original Miracle of Separation that Durandal shared with.

Uriel braced himself as he swung Deus Solaris downwards - the white flames with a red tint sprang into action in the shape of leonine constructs that pounced straight forward to put the dead Angels out of their misery. Divine flames met the fallen protectors head on, bashing fiery claws and bearing mighty jaws in clashing versus their former allies. Penemue charged her spears in a barrage while Zechariah created orbs of compressed air to strike down his enemies.

Barachiel swiped his wings left and right, calling forth chains of light with an orange glow to their making as he brought out Deus Temperamentia in the form of a crossbow of celestial design, swirled and loaded with arrows of light as he sent out projectiles that ionized the air upon traveling while his chains lunged out to greet former kin.

Sauriel and Gadreel who had catched up to them combined their water and darkness tainted armaments to send out shadowy snakes over the water serpents that shot down like thunder.

Principalities and Powers gathered together to send blasts after blasts to put an end to their advance. Flames boiled their flesh, air dismembered the bodies as light burned through the shadowy forms. Serpentine forms snapped jaws at the creatures, drowning them inside for snakes of darkness to clamp on them and devour anything in their way, gaining more mass for Gadreel to command.

The strength applied was tremendous in putting them down. They were not that tough to anihilate but their sheer tenacity was the problem. Yet, that was remedied by the use of more force to break them.

They burned as they fell, scorched and damaged beyond any means of prolonging this charge. The dead warriors dropped like flies before the strength of the defenders for these creatures could not use their experience nor their higher abilities. They were mooks, nothing but pale imitations to the way they were when alive.

The taint was gathered around Gadreel, drawing more and more from the dead to cleanse their forms as to offer a final respect to these brave people. He might have fell but he never forgot that they were one and the same, brothers and sisters they had been even in his Fall.

The gathered miasma expanded like a blanket in offering a partial defense over the already made layers, further bolstering the fortitude of their stronghold.

"Wait...That's it! It's the sun! It's the motherfuckin' sun they need!" he swore in realization after having noticed how the Bandersnatch miasma relied on light to expand. Without a good source of light, no shadows would form and they would not be able to multiply. He pointed at the sun but saw clouds gathering.

"It seems someone already had that idea, Gadreel.", Zechariah spoke in his aged tone to the Cadre, a little bit snarky like the old man he was. "Count on Raphael to show his ingenuity at the time we need."

It was a thunderstorm forming.

"This is not the time to be talking amongst ourselves. The beast still lives...", solemn in his gaze, Uriel brandished his sword against his armor before he took a stance with his six blazing wings compressing to aid him.

The weather was changing. More clouds gathered in the skies as it darkened like the twilight, the winds were blowing viciously with cold air as well as mist forming all over the city below. The sound of thunder echoed through all corners, crackling and thundering booms broke into the fight. Everything was getting darker and darker. The light was dying out, only to obscure the sun as to shut out any possible source of light that big as Raphael had figured it out.

It made sense now, how to stop them from multiplying further.

"Good job, Dulio.", Barachiel spoke in a tense, cautious tonality as he saw what was about to happen. He knew it was the Italian priest who had called for the weather to assist them. "Shields! Hold the line! Hold the line!" he was practically screaming at this point.

Principalities started weaving shields to withstand the heavy pressure. Powers used their elements to reinforce the bindings to buy enough time for other Angels nearby to be able to cast their spells in the brink of time.

However, it wasn't much as the main Bandersnatch returned with their slow steps, the Jabberwocky leading them for another bout. It had casted aside some of it's armored parts like the spiked shoulders and knee horns to gain mobility, having regenerated enough to make it hell for them so it roared.

The vicious growling it made shook the secondary barriers through sheer force of sound, crumbling away the surface of one of the hexagonal barriers as it opened the jaw on it's face to fire a mana blast that would disrupt the Angel Halo of Protection. The Jabberwocky took different spots and they started thrashing the various layers in sync, bringing fists and tails in deadly swipes.

The titanic Jabberwocky fired at will.

The incoming blast smashed into the Angel Halo, putting up enough force to pass through the darkness veil and crushed secondary hexagonal barrier before it exploded onto the main barrier Uriel had casted. The blast was heavy ladden with force, it sent shockwaves through the city in droves, further razing more buildings to the ground.

The Coliseum would have been destroyed if it wasn't on the opposite side of the creatures. The path it carved was spanning in kilometers. The Angel Halo sizzled out due to the strain but it contained the majority of the blast, absorbing the damage it accumulated and redirected it as a kinetic force strike through the use of a water hand that was thirty meters wide - it punched the Jabberwocky in the knee, sending back the stored force it applied to the barrier.

And for the twelve Bandersnatch who smacked at the layer... The Flame of God made sure their wounds would burn till he would die. That's what you get for ramming your fists into the flames of Deus Solaris - they would burn until the taint would be purified completely.

That broke the plating on the leg, snapping bones even with that incredulous durability; it made the leading spawn tremble and halt. It was pushed back only a good 300m which wasn't much in the span of events. But it dealt enough damage to slow down the already slow behemoth.

Only that the Bandersnatch gave their best in returning the favor by tearing holes in the other regions of the hexagon shield. Of course, they suffered greatly in damaging their fists and mace tails so much that it would cause them to cease activity before they would venture deeper. The death toll was further raised, blood splattered upon their fists. The Angel Halo preserved the actual barriers but it faded away from existence as soon as the leftover energies were scattered. Many Fallen Angels died falling from the skies in irony - once they fell and now their fall would be of a deadly nature.

"Enough is enough..."

A Dominion that was behind the leaders murmured through bloody lips while clutching his chest. He spat blood and most of his wings were damaged; he was standing there by some miracle as his flight appendages were starting to mend themselves. He was a three meter tall man with dark hair and black eyes that dripped tears down his cheeks. Horror was written on his face, how would they fight back if they had to defend the city? For that reason did Uriel and Raphael withold six of their wings as it would destroy the whole area.

"No more will you take from us! It is our turn, now."

He was cast in immaculate light, warm and gentle, acting as a beacon to signal it was the time to utilize what every Dominion had within them. Dominions and Powers were drawn towards this specific one, whoever could reach his location was blessed since the surviving forces retreated behind the barriers and raced against time to reach him.

[John 15:13 -Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends.], he was quoting the Gospel of John to rally the incoming allies into one specific formation. It was used as a chant to bolster morale for this one last time. It was the battle to prove that they would not stand idle when the destruction of the world was at a happenstance.

Chains of light burst through the Dominion, glowing and resplendid illumination bathed him as his whole body glowed in a divine aura, drawing near the Angels who were racing against time to reach him.

The echoes of a hymn spread out in one unified roar for justice. An Aria beckoning all celestial beings to join hands and stand together once more. Wings resonated with each other as the light further spread in connecting like an array network between Powers and Dominions. Chains wrapped around them in bringing them close to each other as their collective shine grew in magnitude to call forth one of the abilities of a Dominion. Before His passing they would have had enough strength to do this on their own but now they had no such option.

Around the Dominion were Angels who stuck closer to him and in multiple other places the same was happening. Uriel looked back in despair, knowing what this would bring out and the sacrifice they would have made for their brothers and sisters.

[John 3:16 - This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters.]

The light merged into one unified essence. The veil of darkness was torn apart by their aura, their courage and their selfless sacrifice. In those various spots where Powers aided Dominions stood figures of an ancient nature. Archaic forms only known to the age of old formed in an instant as the light ceased to radiate and died out for a second.

"...No...Don't do this! Stop! Don't!", Barachiel broke down in weeping, his scruffy features could not hold at bay the despair creeping upon them. That course of action was the last resort they had, an Angel's vow of undying loyalty to their loved ones. He could not stop it, he had to accept it for as it was.

He bitterly bit his lips and placed his fist upon his chest as to pay his final respect to these brave men and women who had reminded him of what they stood for. Their valor sparked a flame within his chest, igniting a feeling he had long ago forgotten. The sense of duty called for them to band together in this final bid to hold their ground against these monsters.

A corona of light erupted like waves in coating the Angels with pure seither or also known as godsair, a higher form of mana and life force that only beings of divine nature could harness due to it's properties. The wounds on many were healing, patching them up and empowering them by sharing godsair with each other.

From that spot emerged a humanoid of pure white - armored by metalic skin that held the force of hundreds of Angels in one vessel. This being stood at forty five meters of height, clad in ivory and gold accentuated armor that had no chinks to expose flesh. Gold lines spread across the orb of light in it's chest as it's arms tightly clenched to form a guard. Upon it's back were ten gigantic wings with glowing feathers of steel and various masks rested upon the joints in different colors. Golden grieves and pauldrons shone in the darkness, segmented fists clutched together in crafting pentacles were seen. A face of unmoving metal guarded it's visage where pure white eyes blazed with fearsome glory and it hovered before the barrier.

[Adonai Tzabaoth: El Re'em]

The Dominion's ability to change size was unveiled in a different way. They were not alone, they were one. There was no going back from this, unlike before time this could not be reversed so easily and neither would they waste time in doing so.

Other beings like this formed at different spots. Heaven might have been weakened but it's residents had taken it upon themselves to gain power to compensate for their state. Not all of the Powers and Dominions had merged into these forms as they were needed to carry on the word of their tale. Because dead men told no tales.

Penemue solemnly brought down her hand in a singular gesture, expressing her sadness upon her face as her outrageously long blonde hair was ruffled by the air. Even if she had fallen from grace she still had it in her to sympathize, to mourn the losses of her family, irregardless of belonging. Her black wings glowed for a moment, twitching and convulsing as if she was trying to get something across.

Her only command was to yell out in a booming voice, "Charge! Take vengeance for your loved ones! It's now or never!", she raised her hand and multiple light constructs were knitted out of thin air.

War cries followed her in response.

The altered Dominions of forty five meters sprang into action! The metalic feathers spawned swords to rain against the shells of the Bandersnatch spawns who were still suffering from the burning flames of Uriel. Multiple Dominion forms flew towards the creatures, their greater size assisted them and their higher mobility would aid them further.

They flew around the spawns and hastily brought fists against them. One of them struck a Bandersnatch in the chest, pounding and trashing it with the punch of metalic limbs over and over with pure strength as it used two sets of it's flight appendages to punch further. The Bandersnatch was sustaining hits but it would not croak under the pressure even as it's arms were burning. It's superior mass and height gave it resilience to withstand the strikes. Bolts of varying nature and heavenly armaments bombarded it's side as the Dominion fought on primal aggression in breaking a part of it's armored sections while another one broke a goat horn from it's head and stabbed it's left eye. The spawn roared out in pain and rage, waving it's titanic hands in a frenzy in trying to swat away the damn pests.

It was being distracted as much as possible, sustaining damage and taking outworldly hits that should have crippled it. The Bandersnatch spawn swerved around with it's mace tail swinging in a violent trajectory, about to smash in the barrier before a shield would stop it in it's tracks. A Dominion held on, using magic and it's body to save the Erelim at that post on the west side.

The surface started cracking as the shield collapsed into bits with the Angelic soldier being pushed away against it's peers with tremendous effort. The combined Angel slammed against the barrier, sustaining more damage as the vessel was about to leak out the contents.

It regained flight as it's metalic wings materialized stepping seals to propel it forward under the defense of friendly fire paving the way for it to renew the attack. Gaining momentum further, it accelerated further to move away from the barrier and it's peers because it knew that time was running out. The Bandersnatch beast it targeted reached out for the layer sluggishly due to it's size but the merger between angelic beings zipped straight ahead like a projectile, leaking out seither as if a broken dam, intensifying it's light as it glowed white hot and met with the chest of the beast.

Only a blinding flash was seen, the monster tried to pry it off but the construct held on and dug all ten wings into the massive body while it continued to raise the intensity of light it had...

Light came afterwards. The sound wave followed, blowing away the nearest Principalities who tried to bring up barriers to defend their peers.

That Dominion blew up. The last of it's shine was gone, the lives that made up it's form were extinguished and converted into pure heat and kinetic force was generated. The damage was critical - that specific Bandersnatch halted as the result was evident. Scorched marks and a big hole in the chest oozed tainted miasma from it but despite the roughed up appearance it still had some strength in it for a last resort attack.

Their best efforts were being thwarted, their sacrifice was pointless no matter how much they fought back and tried to deal damage. Other Angel mergers were being trashed around and fought to a standstill, their numbers lowering at the hands of the thirteen harbingers of death. A few were torn apart with great difficulty, more exploded in trying to take down the twelve with them only to damage them enough but not outright destroy these creatures.

The Jabberwocky opened the snapping jaws on it's chest, used the colar of horns around the neck to encase it's face into a protective layer and used it's third red eye to take aim as it slowly took position to focus despite the constant bombardment it endured. It was going for a different mana blast this time, one mixed with miasma and the armored shell of horns and swords on it's back spread out to blow away the smoke and mist around it.

If that second blast met the makeshift layers over the two big barriers it would be game over. Heaven was going to lose.

Right off the bat Uriel brandished his sword and swiped down a large gash across the air; the Flaming Sword was able to cut through the fabric of reality as it was one of the ways to reach the gates of Celestial by tearing a hole in space. The cut was spreading but it wouldn't have made it in time to deflect the blast. Angels started weaving shields upon shields to survive, stacking debris over and over to be able to prolong their defense a few more minutes. It was hopeless, it felt for naught but it was too late to stop. There was no choice but to withstand or lest Rome would be annihilated completely, possibly the whole of Italy would follow next if they didn't try.

Angels retreated while casting barriers. Anything that could save them was used.

Zechariah, Barachiel, Sauriel and Uriel combined forces to make another wall simultaneously even if it were nothing but an obstruction. Penemue commanded the Fallen to flock close to each other while Gadreel took a hold over the darkness in conjuring more veils by exhausting what strength he had left in him.

They were tired, demoralized and drained even with the strengthening their brethren offered them.

The remaining Dominion mergers used their seither by slashing their bodies to cause it to leak, manipulating their contents into crafting force field domes before the rest like a protective wall before the cut in space could block the blast.

The remainder who were battling the second line of 75 meter spawns could not reach them in time. Raphael blew a hurricane straight for the back of the Jabberwocky to try punching a hole in it, however, the shell darted swords of horn growths in a jetstream.

Thus breaking the formation behind it and killing a portion of the forces.

The Jabberwocky was done charging the mouths on it's chest, waiting for the command to bring down these pinpricks that stood against it's way to victory. Atleast the Bandersnatch halted to await the moment for continuation. Some of them were ready to fall any second as the wounds had pilled up, thus rendering them at a lower capacity as combatants so those were to be used as battering rams.

The blasts were charged already, the final trigger was about to be unleashed...

This was probably where it would end. Even if compressed air walls were raised it wouldn't amount to anything due to the anti-magic properties of the World Destroyer. Physical barriers would be easily trampled under it's feet, it could amass an army by spitting out miasma. It could adapt to the circumstances and that insane durability only made it harder. Only blunt physical damage had shown itself to be effective so far.

Penemue screamed as the Jabberwocky was about to release it's charged blasts to finish them off.

"We're not gonna make it in time!"

Despair was the only answer before them. Complete annihilation was the only prospect left.

The Jabberwocky fired it's twin mana blasts.

This was the end.

The twin blasts traveled straight for the target... Only to be met by a wall of shields that were outside of reality's scope, rendering the attack unable to damage the defense for a mere ten seconds while the twin arcs of mana were balanced and lowered to a point that made the regular protections hold out.

Balanced.

Space-time shifted so they would become inconsistent, uneven and ultimately useless projectiles with no punch behind them.

[Divide! Divide! Divide! Divide! Divide!]

The light died out. The tear in reality traveled and expanded in crushing two Bandersnatch into oblivion, cleanly cutting through them and leaving only the lower body intact.

Someone protected them with all they had. It didn't matter what had happened but what was before them.

Uriel stood there in shock, not having registered what had happened so fast in these few seconds since the light died out. Nothing but the question how the Angels in his vicinity were alive boggled his mind if he even had the time to think about it. He uncovered his body by flapping his wings away, retracing Deus Solaris closer to his body as he eyed what stood before them.

Everything was so damn fast it was hard to keep track of what was happening at all. Too many feelings raced past his head to get a hang of it.

Angels focused their gazes upon the figure standing before their leader. Some of them had yet to even catch a breath since the adrenaline hadn't gone down at all.

"W-who...are you? What a-are you!?" a Principality spoke fearfully.

The figure turned it's head around only a little as to show a dark eye looking back at their commander in nothing more than a mere glance with nothing behind it. No warmth was present in the words it shared. "Just the son of a father. You always forget the faithful men who serve your kind. But i haven't...", it turned around to face the beasts with a conflicted smile.

That deep baritone and the wording was not coincidental at all. It was a reminder. "Not for a single day did i forget that evening... Nor did i forget my father like you did..."

Gadreel gleamed in recognizing a pair of white angelic wings jutting from it's back. It was a man reaching the height of 1,95 meters, towering over a good portion of them, dressed in tactical gear bearing the African army logo emblazoned on the shoulder in white letters. This was impossible. This was not real, it couldn't be real at all...

Barachiel broke the silence. "...Marcus Zeble...the fourth Heavenly Summoner. How is this real?!", it was pure outrage speaking within his voice. It was unbelievable, it was impossible to think he was alive.

"...No, it's not that.", Sauriel added. "This is not Paladin Zeble... Dear Lord... it couldn't be true... "

No response followed.

Something else entirely happened.

The white wings on his back unraveled as durable, long bones with separate joints and elongated radial bones stretched from the stumps where the feathered wings once stood. Leathery skin formed upon the bony structures as they grew further to a massive wing span reaching 18 meters, black scales manifested over the flight appendages as his body began to morph into something far scarier than a mere angelic messenger. His body frame was expanding exponentially, muscles grew in size by ripping the sleeves of his tactical gear uniform and horn growths spread over his spine as a muscular tail covered in black scales formed instantly to offer balance.

The hands became strong claws capable of shredding through reinforced doors and delivering deadly swipes at whatever was in their way. The legs gained clawed toes and expanded with more scales forming over them where the boots were before. Layers of merged flat scales formed on the kneecaps in ending with two spiky protrusions that were the same as the ones on the thorax around the collarbone, the chest bulged in size with semi-conjoined keeled scales to defend his body.

As for his shoulders, they had pinions perched upon them while the same scales spread underneath his eyes and the sides of his face, his lenghtened neck and lower jaw.

Two sets of demonic horns grew from his forehead like a crest upon his bald head. The facial structures barely changed except for the white lengthened fangs sticking out of his jaws.

And those pure white eyes with no iris or pupils formed as the Harvest had used the remains of the dead Cannibal King Dragon to give him a temporary use of it's powers, making him grow up to ten meters. Half the size of the creature it had devoured. The nightmarish monstrosity that brought carnage and death wherever it's Toxic Breath reached.

The infamous tenacity and deadly strength of the King Bahamut were brought out to be put up to good use for this one moment it had been intended.

Castor nodded back before he unleashed one deafening growl that bore the bloody mad screams of the cannibalistic dragon that had razed the city of Munakata.

It resounded across the air, wretched in it's twisted ugliness that screamed for justice and bloody vengeance as the animalistic, mindless instinticts of a dragon hunter that devoured it's very own kind announced it's presence to the world for all to look upon it and for all to hear the battle cry in his heart. His calling, his very own cry for help.

His very own story that day twenty years ago...

It was signaling the arrival of a protector. A soldier on the battlefield like many others. A brother in arms in desperate times of need. A father like many others. A mere human standing against the face of death with a deadly wrath upon his eyes.

A mere human.

"This is my fight as much as it is yours. My father died protecting us all while you never answered his call." his soft spoken, baritone voice was altered to a menacing chortle of an abominable beast.

Zechariah tried to impart a few words only to be met with an quick grunt that hid no animosity whatsoever.

"Save your breath, it ain't gonna cut it."

Something in his tone felt dreadful and animalistic, barely restrained behind the seemingly humanoid form that shielded Uriel. "I'm so gonna fuck you up like it's Christmas till you get the jimmies rustled, boy! Stand up and fight, you damn pansies! This fucker ain't gonna kick the bucket itself." he finally swore with nothing left of his gentle disposition as he pointed at the spawns preparing for the next battle.

"...I-I'm sorry...", the Archangel tried to apologize to the African Major instead.

He only looked him dead in the eye as a response to shut the fuck up. It did not matter anymore, the past was the past but the future had to be secured by saving the present. This was the killing machine unleashed.

"Let's take down this big bafoon. You're just a big baby! Why don't you go cry to your mama!" and of course, Penemue swore at the Jabberwocky since it's attack did not reach them. Her pleasant mezzo-soprano voice was expressed in some typical crisp accent. She was a woman of many things, indeed. Swearing bloody murder was one of them. And flipping the mightiest of birds was another one.

"Good. Very good." Castor mumbled to himself as he opened his jaws to begin charging the corrosive, acidic Toxic Breath of the King Bahamut and the beat of his wings kept him steady in preparing to shoot.

He was not alone in this fight. Even among the people he could never forgive he was not a lone soul. Help had arrived in a timely fashion when it certainly meant that the reaper was hiding at the corner.

Thousands of sparks appeared all around the barriers. Luminous and small as a baseball they were but their light cut through the smoke, mist and darkness. They started taking shapes, humanoid shapes of different size and frames that manifested into the world one last time to seek vengeance for their passing. They were dead, they were killed in a conflict that was never meant to include them. Their rage and hatred were the driving point in seeking a moment where they would fight back.

The souls of everyone who died in Munakata escaped the arm that held the Harvest in it. They were released to pass on but not before they would give a good fight as their final earthly deed. All of them had been drawn to that arm to be sealed and used as fuel that had made those shields that defended the barrier by cutting it off from reality for ten seconds.

The dead wanted to have their revenge. By any means necessary.

They were with him as he was with them.

He was not alone.

He was never alone to begin with.

XXX

13th September, Realms of Asgard, The Cave, 14:00 pm

Asgard. One of the nine realms of the Aesir, where the Vanir and the Aesir lived together in awaiting the arrival of Ragnarok. The home of the venerable Wotan himself was quite peaceful as the gods of the Norse world were partaking into their usual activities every day without having to be disturbed by the machinations and events of the mortal plane. It was a place that still prospered despite the setbacks caused by the christianization of Europe, the gods not falling into obscurity due to their veneration, popularity and various portrayals in the world of art and entertainment.

People still remembered them, read about them and enjoyed watching the adaptations about their various tales with the Allfather Odin himself having taken the time to see how Sir Anthony Hopkins had portrayed him in the Marvel movie series adaptation of Thor.

Some did not like their portrayals, some had a few gripes but otherwise were totally fine with it. It was remembrance after all, people still knew of their tales and that has not changed even when they had ceased to partake in the world they called Midgard for such a long time that most had even forgotten how it looked like.

And today it was another day for the ageless gods of the Aesir to lead the life they had while preparing for the beginning of Ragnarok.

Aside from one woman who had been faithfully waiting for the promised day. In a cave where the one of the enemies was being held captive, bound and subjected to the humiliation for his betrayal and multiple transgressions.

Once, as written in the Prose Edda of old, there was a son of a frost giant who rose to prominence as a god of the Aesir, just like how the son and daughter of the Vanir, Freyja and Freyr had been drafted to the Aesir after the Vanir-Aesir conflict, a war of the old times long forgotten in the passages of time.

Inside the dark cave stood a man, bound to a monolithic rock by the entrails of one of his very own sons, who had been forced to be killed by his brother and his guts were spread around the cave in being morphed into gigantic, iron chains of the strongest binding to prevent his escape. It was a dark place in the outskirts of Asgard where there was nothing but barren wasteland and frozen tundra with no vegetation growing.

The wind blew cold air and snow, blizzards were the norm around the cave as to prevent anything from getting near this forsaken prison of a conspiring traitor. The entrance was shrouded in snow and ice, blocking the view in the distance where time did not matter for the imprisoned being but only to bid his time in planning his rise against the woman who had bound him in the first place.

Shrieks and pained grunts echoed through the vast cavern of the cave, the rattling of the iron chains ominously reminded of the fate of the traitorous jötunn of ice as his pains were growing stronger and his hate did not quell for a single day.

A woman stood there, holding a bowl within her palms to tend to the accursed jötunn every single day for centuries. Having taken up the oath to ease his pain, the woman would come every day and night and to place the bowl before his visage as to collect the dripping poison from the snake above his head, giving him a mere release from the pain the serpent inflicted upon him.

And even now she was here to fill the bowl.

She was a fair beauty of short stature, bearing golden locks of straight hair up to her chest in a simple hairstyle with her fringe being parted to the left while her longer bangs were brushed behind her ears. The rest was left to flow freely, unrestrained by any accessories to hold it in place. Her body was lithe and her build sinewy with lean curves, having not lost her beauty even in her current state despite the cold blizzards that blew onto her fair skin. Her features were divine, bearing not a single blemish or a defect in her visage but a more humble disposition in the way she looked. Soft features and smooth skin, godly greenish eyes with the shade of a clover softly looked at the bound jötunn in trying to ease his pain.

Her body frame was light and she was not lacking in curves but her disposition and appearance belied a far cry from any other goddess who was the epitome of desire in the hearts of men. Her body was covered by a beige criss cross shirt with strings holding it together at the front, displaying an average bust poking through the cross section of her apparel, made from a normal fabric.

Upon her legs she had garbed herself with a simple pair of pants made from a heavier fabric to withstand the cold, giving her a baggy look due to her act of placing dense fabric of a normal tailoring upon her thin legs, her upper body was protected by a large fur coat made from the pelts of bears and wolves in a commingled mesh of skin over skin with a fur linen colar that was partially unzipped.

She had a hood over her golden locks as to keep them from the hazardous winds that did not stop to blow day and night. Her feet she protected by mere shoes, plain looking and patched together to support her.

She was standing before the cave, walking into the darkness with a torch in her hand and the bowl within her other one as she had ignited the torch to illuminate her way to the center of the cavernous space.

"I have come, my beloved. I am here to ease your pain.", she spoke in a comely voice of beautiful tonality, between the divine and the mortal spectrum, at the end of a mezzo-soprano in the higher octave. Even with her beautiful voice, it sounded nothing more than a hallowed shadow in the way she spoke. The sound of the winds muffled it enough to blend in with the cry of the storm but enough to echo in the cavern.

Sigyn. The faithful wife of the bound jötunn Loki was here to collect the venom from the serpent above his face that caused him immeasurable pain.

Onto that monolithic rock of three was the bound Loki. His pale skin shone with a bluish hue due to his Frost Giant pedigree, having the chains dig into his skin and making him unable to move a finger. His body was clad in a sleeveless black top that could not protect him from the cold weather, his lower body had black garments and metalic knee guards of an arcane steel and no shoes as to add further pain onto his being by being unable to cover his legs from the frost. His hair was white and went down to his chin with one half of it covering his eye as the fringe was parted to the right side of his face and the one behind his ear, showing black marks like a runic brand onto the surface of his forehead, caused due to the venom of the wretched serpent the goddess Skadi placed above his head.

A black eye peered at the incoming Sigyn with a sense of relief and pity for having her share his fate; she had lost her sons due to Skadi having turned Valì into a great wolf and forced him to tear apart Narfi for the gods to create the iron shackles that secured him onto the rocks till the day of the Ragnarok where he would slip free and wage war onto the Aesir with the jötnar.

Even in his weakened state he did not give up, even when the poison caused him suffering he did not waver from his goals. Atleast Sigyn was his comfort in the long nights and days in this frozen wasteland.

Sigyn lowered her gaze to the Frost Giant as she knelt and left the torch on a stand to shed some light for her to raise the bowl above his face to collect the venom. She did not complain, she always stood there and held out her hands to snatch any drop the serpent dropped as to ease his suffering. She would speak to him when he had calmed down to the point of being able to converse, sharing the details and knowledge of the present day to prepare him for the world he had been torn apart from.

Yet, as she stood there, she heard the sound of footsteps and the slither of a beast incoming. Sigyn turned around to peer into the darkness and somehow managed to distinguish the steps from the screeching blizzards outside. Something in her gaze darkened, her clover green eyes narrowed in dread as to whether it was another god or Skadi to mock Loptr once again for his pitiful state.

Then the glimmer of two yellowish eyes cut through the darkness while sparks of static electricity jolted in the pitch black cave in the distance, only giving a vague shape of a humanoid being clad in some sort of armor. But then again she noticed the eyes of a serpent narrowing in a predatory gawk at her.

"Sigyn... run...", the shapeshifting trickster uttered in a low, pained voice that had no presence behind it. There was compassion for his faithful wife in trying to avert her faith. He had expected this sooner or later due to the fear his peers held for him as much as the contempt they had for his act. They would not forget his deed towards Baldr.

Instead, the serpent lunged towards them but not to hurt either one of them. It brought it's massive jaws against the snake that dripped venom, biting into it's head mercilessly as to kill it in one clean grind of it's jaws, ending the life of the poisonous creature.

"Thank you, Python. Now... Let's free him." a deep voice replied to the creature in making it stand back and make way for the owner of the voice to take a step further.

He brought his hand with some sort of weapon against the chains, making them rattle but they did not snap yet. Next, the big hands belonging to two other beings gripped the constraints around the shapeshifter and tugged with all their might as the weapon was once more brought down onto the iron in breaking it apart and freeing Loptr from his prison.

The chains snapped, leaving the god free to take a step forward while his wife held onto him as support.

"Who...are you? Reveal yourself.", Loki looked at the figures and noticed that the big serpent had slithered behind the back of his savior. He was tired and still in the grasp of pain as he bellowed in whatever strength he had to speak. Weakened, pained from the poison he had been but he was liberated, tasting the sweetness of freedom he had not felt since the day of his imprisonment into this cave.

The being in turn made the torches on the walls light up to bask the cave in dim light. They ignited by a spark of his weapon, finally revealing his identity to the weakened god and his wife.

"I have come here to liberate you, God of Mischief. I believe you seek retribution upon your jailers, do you not?" he spoke towards him.

Before them a serpent of ten meters stood tall, bearing ashen scales onto it's body with a similar shade around it's underbelly covered in segments. It resembled a draconian entity but as well as a mighty snake with two horns over it's sickly yellow eyes bearing slits upon them. It was ugly, massive and definitely as ferocious and ugly as a wretch. Massive jaws of white poisonous fangs opened up to take a gust of breath before they closed up not to frighten the fair blonde goddess.

In the center stood a being clad in golden upper body armor with inscriptions of Sanskrit swirling across it's surface. Round pauldrons glistened in the dim light, heavy arms in forearm pieces stretched out before the wrists while the same material was used to craft human-like gloves with pieces attached to them on the back of the hands, the palms bearing a black surface with Sanskrit lettering.

The chest was broad and shimmering in a illustrious glow while the gaps showed a black suit onto which the individual pieces were connected. His head had a helmet and a serrated mouthpiece to guard his face and lips and blue optical coverings protected his visual organs from the heavy storms.

His lower body was less armored as to give him mobility but still had the similar sabatons and knee guards onto them. He was a godly being in yellow and black with blue accents like rain over him...

And in his hand he held a Vajra...

Next to him two beings of considerable height stood side by side to reveal themselves. Pale from the lack of sunlight and after being imprisoned for so long, they had appeared to be weakened as it took effort to destroy those chains. Each one wore armor of the antiquity, bare chested and having a red loincloth drapped around the waist. One had dark hair and a beard while the other one was of fair skin and had ashen blonde hair.

Two more of them were waiting at the entrance with a black haired woman near them, having the features of a woman from the old age, namely a female of Greek origin. She was beautiful - thin and sensual with raven hair and black eyes with great symmetry and allure of a seductress. And still she felt monstrous despite the seemingly human form she assumed as to fit in the cave.

"What would you say now, Loki, Son of Laufey?", from behind the mouthpiece spoke Indra as he took a step back but no more than to inspire trust. The God of Rain had liberated the prisoner with having in mind an offer that would benefit both of them in what they desired to have. "I offer you an alliance that would satisfy both of us in our respective goals. Join us on our quest and you will not regret it. For how long have we endured the ridicule and scorn of those foolish gods that bound you and took what is ours?"

With a stroke of his hand, Loki eyed the other beings surrounding Indra and considered his chances. He knew of Indra's existence and what history had done to his myth in demoting him to a mere nuisance when once he was a mighty god of the skies. The tinge of hatred he noticed and thus compared to himself - they were both considered fools and nothing more than a mere nuisance, no matter how powerful and dangerous they were. But so far he did not know who the rest of these odd creatures were in reality due to his long stay in the cave.

"An alliance... I like the sound of that. But i ask of you, God of Rain, who are thy companions and why should i trust you?", he was suspicious of the truthfulness of his claims. Sigyn was behind him so he took a shaky step to shield her. It was too good to be true, he thought. As a trickster he knew he could not be so easily tricked yet he always had his reservations.

The bearded man took the cue to introduce himself before Indra could do that for him. "Crius of the Titans. Former prisoner of Tartarus. This mighty Titan is Hyperion, the father of Helios the Sun." he concluded in short.

The ashen blonde man nodded in confirmation. "And this is Lelantos the Titan. This is Iapetus. Brother of the great Cronus himself. We were freed from the clutches of Tartarus by our savior before you." he finished his part of the story. "We come here in offering you a hand and your freedom. We had been prisoners for way too long, have we not?", he grossed.

The serpentine creature was Python. Resurrected and breathing for the sake of revenge against Apollo for his death and theft of his oracle. Indra found him and through his power returned him to the world of the living to aid him in his uprising against the current order.

And the last being was the woman near the exit. Her monstrous nature was none other than that of being the former jailer of the Heccathonchires and Cyclops in Tartarus, the slain by the hands of Zeus drakaina Campe.

The monstrous half-woman, half-eldritch abomination Campe smiled in a vicious grin when she saw the face of Loki sharpen and his smile to grow in calculating his next escapade. She had been resurrected by Indra as well but sadly they could not free Cronus from his sweet dreams in the illusion of being in Elysium while he was bound in Tartarus, chained in the darkest pit of the Underworld. With her revival came the ability to gain a compact human form so she eyed Sigyn in a few strange gawks upon seeing her legs, mostly out of jealousy but now more in recognition of their marvel.

It felt different in having two legs now.

She did smirk as her hoarse voice echoed in a lighthearted manner.

"It is time for revenge, Trickster. Do you not see the gravitas of our own union? Your daughter Hel was most pleasant as to let us free Nidhoggr from Niflheim the previous week. The poor lindworm was so fed up that he couldn't wait to break loose from the roots of Yggdrasil and swear bloody vengeance on the stupid rat and the feather-brain above." she was enjoying herself. She found it funny in a way that the psychomp that brought the dead to Niflheim and imprisoned beings was so complacent when it came to her father.

They had done all this in less than a week, breaking into Tartarus and Niflheim to gather allies and strike fear into the rest. It was extremely hard to get past the all-seeing eyes of the phantasmal frost eagle Hraesvelgr but somehow they succeeded in doing so with some outside help.

Loki was thinking about it. What did he have to lose? He was one of the most venerated and well known gods of the Norse in the mortal plane, giving him a strong territorial boost in the lands where he once roamed and where people widely knew his name. He could enact his revenge, gain power and allies and share the spoils of war. He had been waiting for this moment for so long. Skadi would die before his feet, he would survive Ragnarok instead of being killed by Heilmidr and would reign upon all of the old world.

"...Let the venerable Loptr think. He must be still intoxicated by the pain afflicted from the venom. He would need time to consider."

It was a human voice that spoke from behind the two titans at the exit. It was that of an middle-aged man speaking old Greek with a regal tone of a king. Even the clothes he wore were over more than 3000 years old but faded and torn at some points, he felt ancient and somehow prideful but more than enough to make his scorn evident on his bearded face. He seemed to be in his early forties at best with short black hair and bronzed skin.

"This doesn't concern you, King Tantalus. We have no time to frolic. We need to go now before the stupid bird would sound the alarm and the old idiot would be upon us." Campe spat the words right back at him, not hiding her annoyance with the attitude the human had.

The mythical King Tantalus had been freed from his horrid fate to act as the human factor in this ragtag bunch of scorned gods and monstrosities. Upon his exposure to the Shades of the Underworld he had gained some power of his own to use the dark connection he had to the pit of darkness. Manipulating shadows and having Shades to become a container for his psyche. He had been incarnated into his previous form through this convolluted way and it fooled the jailers into thinking he was imprisoned.

"I accept your offer, my friend. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. " the Trickster chimed in a wondrous tone of pure bliss. Loki was beginning to return to his normal self by the minute, bearing a lackadaisical smile of ecstatic joy as he narrowed his eyes in a half-serious look of dazzling glory. "The god of everything mischievous has returned to put a wrench in the plan~! My kin of scorn... let us make war onto the filth that denied and destroyed us." his black venom marks moved in agitation over his carefree moment of dastardly bravado. They reformed into something like the ancient Nordic marks to better suit him.

His black eye shone in promise of something mischievous... very mischievous in fact.

Python slithered in accepting the god's declaration in glee, trying to smile but he had no lips to make the expression so he waved his tail like a street dog in having found food and communicated through slithers and hissing from time to time.

Loki grabbed Sigyn's arm for support, tapping into the small residual mana he had in himself to create a warlock cloak and sprawl it over his bare shoulders and focused on making more for himself. Through his magic, the white haired giant crafted a pair of fisherman boots for his feet, a belt with his insignia and within his free hand a wide brimmed hat manifested. It was similar to that of a stereotypical witch with a red band over it and being made of leather.

"Lead the way, gentlemen and ladies.", he bowed in his usual humorous sense of theatrics, being grateful for the freedom he was about to taste. "Yet i wish for one meager favor you would grant thy~", and in no time he placed the leather hat onto his white hairs and tipped it forward with his eye, covered behind the fringe, glowing in a sinister coloration of impending death. "The death of Skadi... And Gungnir since I'd really need some symbol of power, you know?! Ain't fun when i got nothing to swing."

Iapetus grunted. "Can't we pick the imprisoned Typhon in Mount Etna? Maybe Nyx since Zeus fears her more than Typhon."

"Lovely. I am certain Ixion would be pleased to hear that since he hates Zeus too.", was the only thing the man calling himself Tantalus said since awhile.

They started walking with Indra being in the lead. Another two had joined their deadly alliance - it was just the beginning.

Indra chose to deliver some words on the way out as if it were the best time to show his greatness. "Loki, Son of Laufey. Sigyn, wife of the Trickster. Welcome to the Khaos Brigade, comrades."

Loki smirked in madness with his visible eye widened in anticipation of the incoming storm. This was his ride, the spreading of chaos and pulling off tricks at those stupid Aesir pricks was his calling. To the point of getting aroused by the mere thought of balling them hard and leaving a message on the way out. He only spoke in enthusiasm the words he wanted to say all this time.

"Loptr is back in the game, bitches! Time for some family reunion, old man. Daddy needs to express some rage~. So let's get it started and the get the gears rolling."

"The last laugh is mine, Father. Let's see how you handle the prodigal son..."

"Welcome to the Khaos Brigade, brethren.". Indra repeated as they headed for the exit.

XXX

13th September, Vatican City, Rome, Italy, 5 minutes earlier...

The car stopped by at a safer spot if there was one to call as such. The rumbling of destruction echoed through all of the city, smoke was rising from the distance as it had not yet reached this area that seemed totally contrasting in appearance to the ravaged city.

The car was placed at some narrow street where the occupants exited through the doors in a timely order. Vali went out of the back seat in a worried step as she wanted to puke what she had for breakfast because of the insane stunt the other blondie pulled off. She felt sick and the abhorrent, nauseating feeling of wanting to regurgitate made her pounce out and try to get a good footing by holding onto the Murcielago at the back with her hand pressed against the window.

Eleanora opened her door, satisfied and thrilled by what she had done. It was no secret she loved pulling off stuff like this on a weekly basis to her own delight. When she looked at the city something in her was horrified, something ugly ran across her visage where a different emotion flashed right away. Fear. Anxiety for what was about to come.

"Damn gracious... This is like the story about the battle for Tideborn against the Marobal...", she made the immediate reference to one of the stories her cousin had told her about when he was in Mundus for God knows when. "What the hell are we gonna do?! This might get ugly...", she was hesitating now unlike earlier. She was pretty squishy and small in comparison to such beasts.

The Calamity Queen was a human.

The suitcase she carried was left on the hood of the car.

The smell of burning materials hit her in the nose. It was really unpleasant.

The front and back door opened up for the two men to exit.

The Italian man did not say anything about it. This gave him so many memories about the past - the March, the siege in destroying Lleons and Phylods by pitting them against the Academy in Ferkina and so many other events. All hard won battles with extreme planning and tactics. As well as burning down nine camps belonging to the Champion of Cenithar, the so called Wicked Man or the Great Monate.

It was all a memory now. Memories and people he would not forget for a single day. Comrades, friends and enemies he would remember always.

He turned to his cousin with no bravado present in his voice. It was grim and dark, crestfallen in the way he spoke because even now he was afraid. He never denied it. "...listen, I'm scared as fuck. I know what we are but even now i feel afraid. I can't do this alone, guys...", no matter how inhuman they had become, they were still normal people and had normal reactions to things like a miniature apocalyptic event that would probably spread out to include other cities.

Namely his home and that house at the outskirts of Milan where all those children resided.

"...But...if we don't try all of them would die. I can't let that fucker kill my mother... And everyone i care about. It's... I don't know what to say..." he shakily fixed his glasses before he went to open the back of the car.

"Do you remember?", he heard his companion raise his voice. That was quite the rare sight for the soft spoken man who kept his cool at all times.

"Where's the glorious bastard who bitch-slapped an Aspect of Fate on the way back?!", Castor had to give him a pep talk to rile him up to work optimally under pressure. His stature towered over him frighteningly, even more so when he saw the flashes of anger swirling within those dark eyes.

He was a man of few words. He spoke when it mattered the most only.

"This... We've fought worse. Way worse than this. Think about for what we are needed at the end. Or did you lose your damn sack on the way out?!", now he was letting go of his benevolent nature and delicate disposition to drill some courage in him once more. "Get your ass out there and make it work! Right now... So let's move or everyone you know would become everyone you knew..."

That was painful to talk about. He turned around to hide his conflicted emotions from being seen but it was obvious that he felt terror like all of them. "Don't make the same mistake twice."

"You don't have to tell me twice about that.", Chesare only responded in a cold, clinical tone as if it was sterilized of anything human. He gestured for Eleanora to open the suitcase where he had prepared a few useful tools that would get them some extra strength in the long run. It had definitely reminded him of something he never wanted to talk about in public.

"Not all of us are as tough as you are, you know?", he snapped back in anger. But it was more out of sadness and remorse for something else entirely.

"You're the toughest bastard i know. Don't forget it." was the response that met his.

The tall girl unearthed the contents to pick up a syringe with booster drugs and a small canister with some pills in stock. There were a few more syringes inside and a really specific injector with a label written in English. There was also a small package wrapped in some white paper with a marker drawn tag of highly explosive on it.

Eleanora picked up the syringe and grabbed the other ones to distribute among her peers while she pulled back her sleeve and tapped her wrist to make the veins appear to insert the needle and inject the performance enhancing drugs into her bloodstream. The canister she cracked open with her teeth, spitting out the plastic binding and with her tongue she picked up two of the pills. She made a really sour, disgusted look when she swallowed them, almost choking because of their awful taste.

Vali eyed the syringes and couldn't help but feel curious about them. Especially that strange injector had caught her attention, something like this had actually captivated her in trying to remember where she had seen it before. So she had to ask.

"What's that? Never used anything like this before.", curiosity was evident in her intonation when she tackled the question.

The African man looked at her, tense and on edge, but still chose to answer her. He placed the needle into a visible vein on his hand, turned towards her and spoke, "Some good old booster drugs to kick back harder. You might want to use this, girl. You'd need all the heat packing if you're up against what's over there." his gaze was transfixed upon the rising flames in the distance.

The Cambion understood the gist of it so she took the syringe designated for her rather haughtily, stabbing it in her neck since she thought it was far better to use it there. And then she felt the rush; her pupils dilated when she experienced the initial effects of using these, her heart rate increased and so did her body ache for a moment.

But it wasn't going to be enough. Her Gear was blocked, her mana was cut off to prevent her from using any magic she knew but most of all her demonic attributes were suppressed by those freaky constraints that she had been branded with during her stay in that horrible, dull room.

She was still spiteful for that. She never let it go but she didn't plan to run away just yet. She could learn so much more if she stayed where Azazel had decided to remain.

She would have to request the bindings to be let loose to use her full arsenal.

The phone in the Doctor's pocket rang in some upbeat ringtone that only made his cousin facepalm hard. It was totally not cool when it wasn't even funny - A-RISE's Shocking Party! It had to be that song always...

"Get in the car. Now." was his command.

Eleanora threw the suitcase on the front seat because she wasn't going to the same location as they were. Her role was completely different than theirs, thus requiring to stay at this spot for the trick she had up in her sleeve. The rest got in the car fast - the call was picked up.

["Rendezvous point at the center. Kill any opposition that comes at your way. High ranking Brigade members are a priority. Don't be late."]

The instructions were really simple to understand. No prisoners to be taken alive. Exterminate all opposition encountered, irregardless of status and abilities.

["Understood. Did you bring the rest with you? What about the summit?],
Doctor MonBlanc had to ask even if he was in a hurry. ["Just wait for the signal, then we go check if Kuoh is in the air."]

["No idea but the Professor would handle it. I've asked for some friends to join. You know, Roman and the Undead King are on their way. I'll be waiting. Good luck, lad. We'll need a lot of it."]

The call ended abruptly by the sounds of falling rubble and explosions muffling it. The signal was cut off, there was no connection.

He only murmured under his breath, "Sir Mason, you just had to hype me up like some kid over the next episode. Fuck it, this is what i live for!", he brought back his mobile in the pocket of his medical scrubs in one fluid motion. A humm escaped his lips in reminiscing over so many events he had participated in. It was nostalgia playing with his emotions, that desperate need for satisfaction was burning in his chest.

The girl behind him noticed that right off the bat. Eli knew what he was thinking when he would do that half-brooding, half-heartless grimace and what usually changed it afterwards.

"Let's begin, Chesare."

"You ready, cousin? It's been a while." he addressed her question.

"It sure has. Get going and leave this place to me." the tall blonde was gunning to kick him as to get him going. It was annoying how he had to waste her time like this but even now, be it from fear or neurosis, she laughed in a despicable, maniacal chuckle to vent out some stress.

Suddenly as it had happened did it go away. There was no more laughter present. Silence was shared between them. It was the time, the time has come.

Both took a deep breath before they whispered together a single word that meant something special to them. It was who they were, the mark of a lineage shared between two worlds existing so close to each other.

"Malakkar."

A bloody red insignia in the shape of a two headed eagle manifested on his upper back, over the clothes, while the same on spread out over Eleanora's chest in glowing for a mere flicker of a moment before each mark dissappeared back to whence it came upon a mental command.

He entered the car and drove away, leaving her alone to fulfill her duty.

"Let's get this started.", Eleanora closed her eyes to concentrate in the empty street, focusing her attention to her feet or more precisely, the pavement on which she stood upon. But something flashed in her mind. An image, a person of whom she would not think of as much as possible. It always filled her up with fiery rage as her mood would take a rapid turn in the other direction.

The mental image of the Dragon irked her like nothing else in the whole wide world.

She roared out in one mixed sound of annoyance and loathe. A mesh of embarrassment and most definitely anger."Sorry for having to rely on you to get going.", It was what she needed to forget about the situation for a moment.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

"ISLEY! YOU MOTHERFUCKER!"

XXX

13th September, Vatican City, Rome, Italy, 13:56 pm

Xenovia was retreating with the remaining forces that had survived the carnage a few minutes earlier. Her two grimoires were levitating around her as did her Bible before her. She was in pain. That slam had hurt her badly even if she managed to use an inertia dampening sigil to survive but it didn't mean she had avoided the painful kiss with the pavement. Traces of blood were staining her lips before she wiped them off in her hurry.

There were not many of them left. A good amount of Executors were cut down by the relentless drones who could even match an Angel due to their state and numerical advantage. They were just a bunch of horrified, badly wounded and demoralized men and women in a race against the end that was coming for them. They were roughly forty or less in numbers, some injured and some begging for medical attention.

The Angels who had managed to get out of the massacre were around twenty five or something like that, holding the wounded and carrying those who had been paralyzed by fear.

They had to find a place to regroup.

Things weren't looking good at all. They lost Ewald Cristaldi even if the rest of the Last Battalion was alive. It was a huge blow to their morale. He was a dear friend and a brother to all of them.

The corner at the left side was a suitable spot to hide. The buildings there stood in pristine condition and it had a drugstore on the right where they would be able to get supplies to tend to the wounded. It was a narrow street so they took the corners and used the entrances to hide. Xenovia rushed to the drugstore where she found the necessary tools and painkillers to assist the rest. The absence of people on the counter wasn't surprising at all to her.

She went out with as much as she could carry on her arms; bandages, medical patches, iodine and alcohol plus some other things. Those had to do. It wasn't like she wanted to pillage a drugstore but the necessity was far greater than to worry about that now.

Irina was tending to Linda Sellzen's wounds while Lucina and Lucca held Teodoro still as they had to remove the knife lodged in his wing to patch him up. Angels had the capacity to fix their wings as it was the only part of them that had a healing factor because if an Angel were to be fully stripped of their wings they would be rendered powerless and with no greater access to their abilities. Something they noticed when the drones targeted their angelic compatriots earlier.

"Come forth... Huan Po..."

Irina called for a low tier Guardian she had a friendly bond with - one that had a healing capability that had saved her a few times.

A lime green pentacle formed upon her palm where a small being of twenty five centimeters in height manifested. It was a female one, clad in a grass green dress with wings made of oak tree leaves. Her legs were bare and so were her shoulders. She had brown hair, tied in a long singular braid with a bell and her eyes were greenish like the grass.

The small Huan Po was mending her wounds while others were casting healing spells with whatever strength they had in them. It wasn't much but it was better than having open wounds and nasty slashes to hinder them.

The knife was removed from Teodoro's wing, pulled out rather fast and he was made to bite down on the hilt of a blade to prevent him from screaming and giving away their location. It was nasty, it had damaged a nerve that prevented him from retracting his wing as it needed around a minute to close the stab and regain use. Just in case they cleaned up the wound and patched it up to help with the process undertaken.

Linda Sellzen grated her teeth against each other in sadness. So many had been lost, people she knew well and socialized with on a daily basis.

She knew what her job was, she understood that but it was still painful for her. She voiced out her frustration a bit louder despite the conflicting desire to break down in tears. "There's no way out...We don't have the necessary tools to fight back like in previous operations... We're all...going to die, aren't we?", she made fists before they unfurled weakly on her thighs. It was the odds that had crushed her. They had fought far dangerous things but each and every experience was different.

"...brother... I'm sorry... I wasn't there. I wasn't able to do anything..."

Her brother could not be saved, she wasn't able to give him his final rest for his tormented soul ever since that change happened with him.

Irina's hand touched her shoulder in an attempt to ease her if possible, to offer consolation to her restless soul because if she lost it they were dead meat. "We need to move, Lin. Maybe if we reach the vault there would be something we could do." her brows were raised unconsciously because she couldn't control her expression at this point. Deep down she did not believe that even if they reached the vault there would be something to help since it had lost some of the anti-demonic tools it had. They were stolen.

"What can we do, Shidou?" said Teodoro in some snarky, aggravated tone. He looked at her miserably in pure frustration. He was about to rage at her despite knowing it wasn't her fault at all. "They clearly got us. There's nothing we can do! Can't you see it..." the margarine blonde boy hit the wall he was leaning on in anger.

He was giving up and nobody could blame him for that. "We... h-have to accept it... Ewald... he's dead! We're nothing! We're just nothing!", it was his emotions ruling him at this point. He couldn't focus because of the pain, he was blindsided by the odds he couldn't beat.

The female Executor's hand tightened around the pommel of Blood Excalibur. He was right, she didn't want to admit it but she knew he was right. What could they do? Those things were unstoppable, they were relentless in their pursuit.

The tides were changing.

Yet, it still forced her to talk back at him. "Do you think i don't know?! Do you think I'm not scared? Fuck you, Teo. I hate it when you're right...", she looked away in trying to avert her gaze from his. "We don't have a path to the vault... We don't have enough manpower to storm this. Even if we did... We can't stop those big things. Fuck , this tupid ringing in mw head won't stop!", she growled in annoyance.

"That's it... A clear path." Xenovia murmured as she tended to an Angel. She stood up on her feet, refusing to stand idle while others were caving in. Realization dawned upon her as she took off her gloves and looked at her fingernails - they had transparent nail varnish over them with a series of drawn patterns that were masked as simple nail polish in azure.

"Both of you... You're wrong. It's not hopeless yet... Not yet." her amber eyes shone with a new feeling pouring out of them.

When she had stood up her big braid swung left and right like a metronome in giving her the idea she needed at this point. Never mind the fact it waved kinda sexy over her back but it wasn't the time for that. One of her grimoires fell into her hands so she started leafing the pages in search of something.

Her experience was barely worth more than two weeks and a few days given her condition. She was not a master in casting but she was smart and creative with what she knew. The rest was compensated by her grimoires and combat experience. She did not need a sword to be able to cut down enemies. Her mind was her sword, a sharp cleaver and her knowledge a shield.

"What are you doing?", one of them asked her.

Xenovia ignored that to focus on finding the right answer to her idea. There had to be something in there that matched it, there had to be or lest it would not work. Her fingers swept past pages after pages until she found what she needed - despite the situation she just smiled. It was probably her stress making her do that, she wasn't the type to smile in a time like this.

The cobalt haired Executor placed her palm on the cold pavement, letting the seals to flow out onto the surface in etching over the ground, thus forming a makeshift overlay that shimmered for a few seconds before it enlarged in size. It was a link, a gateway to the vault that had the same marks on the inside of the door to connect them as a portable armory. Cardinal Giovanni had made sure she was well prepared in having a good inventory to answer her call in a time of need.

"Evening the odds." she spat.

From the gateway emerged canisters. White metal casings shone together in cracking their seals open to be used. More and more of them popped out.

Those were the prototypes of a new breed of weapons; swords shaped like oversized khyber knives in a gunmetal silver coloration. A hand guard in a simple cross shape with cut in fullers for a better grip, an elaborate wing pattern was engraved onto the flat surface while a single black streak marred the cutting edge with spiraling forms extending onto the flat surface.

In some other canisters were similar tools but differing in size and shape - halcyons, throwing knives, specialized high caliber bullets, a bow and last but not least one casing that held an entirely different blade.

Angel Blade v.1 were a brand new series made from the metalic feathers of certain Angels to craft weapons that would do much better than the standard light blades that were based on the recreation of the lightsaber by professor Michio Kaku on one of his Discovery Channel shows.

Men and women picked up blades and bullets. The last casing was left for Irina to take; it was a short rapier modeled after the original form of Durandal. An extremely inferior build that looked nothing like the stolen one, being inverted in color and bearing silver accents on it. It did not have the Miracle of Separation but it was enough to assist her.

"One last time... That's all we have left. Go for the main building.", flatly the Azure Priestess commented as her spell was disrupted and closed off on it's own. "I'll be right behind yo-

An explosion was heard. Something had pierced through the wall in making a huge hole in it, bypassing the defense and bringing down an adjacent building. It started crumbling before their eyes with more echo being produced. The heavy trotting was growing stronger the same way clattering halberds screeched against the pavement. Beastly throes spread out like flames in a forest. Screams were the next wave of acoustics afterwards.

The horde was coming. Mana flared over stores and cars, flames danced behind the mist and smoke as their arrival was drawing near each passing second.

"They're here! Make a run for it!" screamed an Angel trying to fly away.

...Only to be impaled by the shards of a Balance Breaker drone.

Before he could do anything he was riddled with projectiles and his head was blown away by a long range magic spell.

The corpse fell near Teodoro...

"Retreat! Take evasive action!" commanded Saint Lucca of Sicily when he picked up Legrenzi on his arm and started running to the end of the corner with others following suit.

The evacuation of the wounded took priority.

Irina pulled Xenovia by the shoulder in trying to get her going but she couldn't move. Her legs were frozen in place, she was standing there waving her hands for a goodbye. "Let's go! Come on, go,go,goooo!" Irina bellowed in an animalistic, gnarly pitch that was like that of a lioness. There was no time to waste. They had to move right now.

People were running in a panic for their lives. Pushing, jumping, rushing to safety was their priority. There was no formation when it came to the battle of survival. Anything was permitted, anything was justified.

Xenovia pushed her away. She did not face her at all. It didn't matter anymore. Nothing was of importance to her.

"Xenovia! You fuckin' idiot!" cried out Shidou.

"I know... Tell my sister...", Saint Quarta called out to her in her sincerity. Xenovia had to gain their attention or they wouldn't get away in time. At this one moment something broke out of her lips in honesty, she could never deny it because it was the truth. Her own quest in find the truth. Irina saw her eyes finally.

So much passion was there. So much care and love that had not been extinguished when the truth had been revealed to her. There was regret underneath the love she displayed, that loyalty to her friends...

"...Tell Asia that i love her, no matter the circumstances. No matter the cost.", the right eye was getting soggy by the tear welling up at the edge. She might have been at the point of crying, it wouldn't have been surprising if she already did that. "Because she is my sister and i want her back... Tell her that I'm sorry!"

Two of her light blade hilts were pulled out of her bicep straps, twirled in a X formation before she swung them apart in lifting her arms horizontally with each grip igniting for the light to be focused on the lens inside the construction.

Xenovia yelled in defiance. "Get going, you damn idiot! I can't deal with you now."

Afterwards the pavement moved at her command as if it were a living creature and not a road to step on. Her body was ready, her wrath was her motivation to stay behind to buy enough time for the retreat. "Wall of Stone, grind the earth of thy origin, engulf the pertinent, and bow to me." the bricks in the street were animated by the breakdown of her Speed Casting into a four sentence command by becoming blocks that began to wall off Irina to block her from trying to pull her away.

The segments of the wall connected with each other despite the screaming girl trying to reach her because one of them struck forward to push her away and make her running as another one shoved her further away.

[~Audiomachine - Godspeed~]

Heavily breathing, the caster brought down her limbs in a guard, stepped back with her left foot and set her eyes on the goal. Her grimoires levitated around her once more as they used the same property that made her levitate to put on the cowl over her head and a piece of cloth over her mouth and nose, masking her face to act as a filter.

"Body of Beryllius, Negative Impact Shield." she spoke up as her books radiated a small illumination around the edges. She wasn't going to stop at two only. "Mana Pulse, Triplet Caster Magic, Physical Ward,Shroud of Darkness, Mana Flow, Blessings of the Wind", she was casting all of these second-third tier spells on herself to maximize the duration of time she could win for her compatriots, risking to exert herself and render her higher casting ability to be sealed for a specific time period if she made a mistake in adding too much spells on herself. Too much buffs and they would clash, possibly overloading and messing up her nerves.

"Elemental Ward,Silent Prayer of a Martyr,Greater Magic Wall.", she was almost complete with the casting before she added a final boost to herself. The one that defined her as a person. A whisper in the back of her head, a mere thought that flashed in her mind.

Invictus.

Another building was shot down like a mere glass window being broken. The crumbling of the wall echoed again as the steps of frenzy were nearing. The sound of wings announced their arrival.

Xenovia gripped her blades tighter as the self-imposed casting produced a good amount of layers over her form with Shroud of Darkness rendering her camouflaged due to the mist and darkness all around her. If she didn't come out the legions would likely go for anything alive so it was her best shot to stall for time as much as possible. For a few moments. It was enough for her, she was going to go out as she wanted. It was her atonement for the cruel words she had said to Asia, having rejected her sister despite knowing it wasn't her fault. She was kept in the dark about her father's absence all this time.

"I'm sorry for everything. I hope you would forgive me one day. Because i have forgiven you already."

She was waiting for the moment when they would get near. It was the precise time she needed as to show up and do this. Her body remained still in anticipation. Her muscles were coiled and tensed in preparation.

...Then the Sacred Gear users burst in the street like flies.

Men, women, children, elderly, sickly, insane. All of them marched forward in destroying what they saw as their flight enabled drones skidded in the air, delivering destruction upon the streets where the eye could meet. Fire was everywhere, signatures of varying elements were glowing relentlessly. The mindless thralls were running, sprinting, trotting, flying and any possible form of movement was available to them.

Dreadnoughts had found their way here.

The Venetian mask legion was marching in a heavy step without undertaking any action other than aiming to rush forward till the command was given. The ten magicians that had passed through the barrier were raining mana and spells that made the ground shake. Debris was falling, flames were spreading out. The raging of maddening creatures was the painting that was the reality of this time.

Walburga herself was walking casually like she didn't give a damn about anything around her, humming to herself a tune she had learned by heart while her pentacles were annihilating whatever caught her attention. Her Saint Ira gleefully imitated it's other half in immolating whatever it could reach with the Executor sword and the spade in it's hands, striking many cars and scorching the very ground they stepped on with each move they made.

"Come out, come out wherever you are~. I'm waiting!", the flaxen blonde haired girl purred in deranged ecstasy before her mood suddenly switched to cold apathy. Her brows locked down in grimacing over the nuisance this task was since there was no challenge whatsoever. It was too damn easy for her to waltz in like that, burn everything in sight and get back home at six... Or she thought she had one.

"Urgh! Was ist die zeit?! Ich brauche eine menschen für das nacht.", Walburga stomped the ground with rage, causing her custom seal to materialize over the pavement in a violet shade with Latin/Deutsch lettering forming over it.

It was complex, bearing four different layers and three smaller pentagrams that formed an inverse triangle by drawing lines between them. The inversed pentagram was modified, after all.

"Shock, Bolt, Thunder!", she flatly stated by using Shorthand Chanting.
With a raised hand she pointed at the drug store corner in bringing down her appendage like a shooting mechanism, cocking her hand as if it were an old revolver. The index finger wagged down in meeting the middle one, acting as the trigger for sparks to start around her fingertip, upon raising said finger it shot a streak of concussive force right at the edge of the building where electricity traveled to the instalation.

Blasts were focused upon it. It was set on fire soon after by a dark spell.

Shorthand Chanting was a casting style that reduced a verbal spell's long verses into a compact, essential one liner that maintained the core of the original one. It was a style only applicable to magic that did not go past the third tier but required précise memorization to be utilized. No beginner was able to use it with ease because it also required an emotional state that would supplement a specific spell.

Purely destructive ones were best suited for people like the psychotic Walburga Dressler.

A blast of mana was shot back from a different angle. It traveled forward between the drones with the target being the witch.

Incineration Anthem's mannequin responded blindingly fast by wrapping it's six wings around her accomodator, blocking the shot upon unfurling the flaming wings that caused a small recoil in the footsteps of the mad bitch.

She was only grinning. It hyped her like crazy - her sickly smirk and those maddened eyes bore a delightful insanity in the way the girl responded in showing her teeth. "Can you smell the fear, Mother?", despite everything the girl was a showman. "Because i smell a filthy little amateur... Oh,yesss... Come to mama!" now she was in the mood again when she addressed Saint Ira like she would her mother.

Three drones immediately pounced towards the corner. One of the centaurian legged Sacred Gear users, a woman in a metalic suit and a little girl with black hounds raced towards it before the rest would try to do a zerg rush there. The magicians prepared to shoot while the mysterious masked individuals stood close to each other to defend themselves.

The first to reach was the man whose lower body had been damaged so his Balance Breaker had made new limbs for him to use. His front legs smashed in the ground while his arms were thrown to block something. Some strange noise followed afterwards - the sound of snapping, crushed bones were heard first. Then grunts had been the second thing in the moment the man slumped back with his blood dripping out, crushed to death if one noticed the individual rocks used the in pavement sticking in his skull.

Xenovia emerged from the spot to meet the two women who had reached her.

The suit clad one drove her hand forward to make use of her sharpened fingertips while the hounds of the other one leapt for Xenovia. Instead of trying to attack, she used the rocks beneath her, the wall next to her to break the woman into the other building by the bricks hitting her with inhuman force. It was faster than expected, the hounds were already in the air when she used the Blessings of the Wind to slice them apart in a second.

She had only two more uses of that spell preloaded so she had to think of the timing.

Her light blade found it's way into the little girl's skull like a cake being cut through the center. The hound user could not do anything else but attempt to claw at her with canine claws unsuccessfully because Xenovia rammed the second one in her neck to split it.

The corpse slid down near her feet when she brandished her tool by swiping it like a real blade with blood on it.

Drones were instantly attracted to the sole fighter like hornets in a beehive. They reacted on instinct by being driven like a hive mind that would be enraged by the loss of one of their own. The elderly man with the shadowy snakes was among them; his Balance Breaker had caused him to gain wings constituted by the snakes he commanded in also gaining hardened obsidian skin where snakes coiled over his body. This specific drone had caused her a lot of trouble earlier, nearly suffering deadly blows due to his involvement.

Sword Birth blades that had evolved to become arms spread out akin to a bird's wings in fanning out. They were encasing drones in a defensive cocoon to withstand physical trauma better. Other ones turned into severely degraded copies of demonic swords to be held by other users.

"Alright. You can kill her now.", the flaxen blondie clapped hands together.

Leonine Gear users leapt for her, followed by the second line of darkness shroud clad users who formed appendages of their element to act as piercing tools for an easy kill. Flight enabled Balance Breaker drones targeted her from the sky by charging metallic projectiles that would expand in weaving pikes upon hitting the terrain. Their other brethren forced the wings to shoot steel feathers with binding properties or supercharged aluminum to make good bombs of them.

She was definitely going to die since she was alone.

The only option was to build up enough walls to slow them down so the people she left behind would reach the rendezvous point.

"Triplet Caster Magic! Release!"

Three different hexagrams in colors were made real by command. One had a green light signature, another was gold in color while the last one was dark brown to signify the spell combo she was trying to complete. This one offered the capacity to cast three different spells of varying nature simultaneously by using only one to act as the ignition key.

The burning buildings nearby sent bricks at her way to act as a shield. The rocks beneath her boots were raised in tune for a combined layer that would make the Wall of Stone. It grew in size by forming in a second - it was basic attraction to a certain point in building up defenses. Next followed a resonance spell that would trigger the earth to rise up as rudimentary constructs that barely matched a high quality Golem. The final one was a barrier with the Light Affinity being drawn in the process to gather mana from the ley lines to power up.

Now Xenovia ran forward with everything she had in her legs to safety. She couldn't fly because she would have been shot down immediately by the thralls that were capable of the same thus forcing her to sprint like a gazelle, away from the pursuing lioness packs.

They advanced further. It meant nothing to them when they had almost reached her if not for the walls erected a second ago. Flaming hammers with the ability to disrupt magic struck the brick-rock composite in pure aggression - others bashed limbs, tools, wings against the barrier until the snake user used his body to send out serpents traveling like bullets. The jaws opened up to sink in as the futile attempt did nothing extraordinary unless if you counted the ruined teeth of those constructs that shirked away due to the illumination.

The rudimentary figures were wiped completely by the advance of human drones. It meant nothing to them, no pain, no fear and most certainly no self-preservation instinticts could stop them from continuing the massacre.

One of the ten Hexennacht casters uttered, "Empusa. Break the shield."

One of the Venetian mask's stepped forward to the caster. It was a female creature that made her tail burst out of the suit. It was a black snake that hissed and when it's maw was open a resonance ability broke the barrier in a mere second. The Empusa was a mid level being that had the natural capability to pierce barriers with her tail, be it an Elemental or a Physical Attack Barrier. This was child's play for her.

Drones climbed over the walls, jumping over them and flying above the constraints. There was no stopping them.

A pack of flight enabled ones caught up to Xenovia fast. One glided past her and turned around; shooting green crystals that were supercharged in her direction. Another slammed it's diamond covered fist over her back in a certain deathblow that would disable her while ten of these shot fire, ice, air, darkness and other elements without a care for their comrades who were close to her.

To counter the projectiles before her, Body of Beryllius activated to withstand any strike damage attacks such as blunt trauma or projectiles. That was her physical shield as the crystaline formations met her body and bounced off her armored parts but not without ripping her cloak apart. One had managed to cut her in the left biceps, revealing bare flesh to bleed.

The punch she withstood by the use of the same buff at the price of feeling the pain race through her upper body, nearly tumbling before she regained her pace at the last moment before the wing of another drone could attempt to claim her whole arm. She couldn't even yelp because she had to run and live a little longer.

"Elemental Ward!", were her words as she used her second buff to disable the attacks from killing her, making them bounce off her but not without suffering more pain and the impact of a fist at her leg that brought her down.

The Blade Blacksmith swords that were turned demonic flew straight for her as the three thralls were about to rip her to bits with limbs and deadly pressure. Upon hitting her they triggered her Mana Pulse into action, making a kinetic force slam that threw them off several meters away thus saving her from death. However, she had her bones rattling and felt the aftermath of pain drive her to pounce forward back on her feet and throw her secondary light blade into the attacker before her as she leapt with ferocious steps to press forward.

"FUUUUCK YOU MOTHERFUCKER!"

The Azure Priestess used her elbow the moment the drone deflected her sword. It was a fast smack into his jaw so she knocked him over without stopping for a second.

She had use of eight preloaded spells only. Her Body of Beryllius would last only for another impact while her Triplet Caster Magic had two more uses, same for Blessings of the Wind.

The whole horde was after her. And she was so close to the next street to swing by another corner. If she did she would be stuck in a tight spot but it would give her the advantage of narrowed space. Yet it did not negate the advantage of flying combatants so she ditched the idea to head for the right to a bigger street that led to the next main street where shops stood.

The choice of action was to take one of her other light blades from her other bicep strap. It blazed to action upon her press of the trigger.

She couldn't win. There was no way she could win against such numbers the way she was now. Not that she had a chance before either. Her stalling of the inevitable was only making her suffer further when the snake Sacred Gear user sent his darkness serpents upon a car and threw it in her direction, backed up by the throw of debris from multiple Dreadnoughts.

The car flew really fast in her direction, about to squash her like the squishy human being she was. The rest of the debris hit buildings in trying to make enough rubble to bury her alive. There was no rest for the wicked but what about the good?

Her grimoires never left her, they followed her no matter how many times she fell as they had been bound to her newfound hovering ability.

Triplet Caster Magic flared up again. A red, black and brown hexagram came into existence for the ground to rise up behind her, the rocks beneath her to act as a stepping pad in propelling her forward to levitate. The last one was a third tier Wall of Stone that curved over her in acting as a corridor when the debris hit them and the car blew up.

Searing heat bathed her yet did not hinder her because of Blessings of the Wind acting up for a second time in propelling her even further before it could reach her. She had only one use of it left.

Thus she became faster than most of the troops, barely faster than they were. It meant nothing when she went out of the protective tunnel because her Body of Beryllius had activated once more to have her survive some of the chunks that were chipped off the defense.

Those would have killed her if she hadn't buffed herself with these spells.

It was a tactic only a defensive caster usually used or extremely unexperienced ones to compensate for their lack of ability in casting right off the bat. It was working so far until Walburga whistled to make the drones change path towards the other streets since she had her fun in chasing the pest for a minute or two. It was enough time lost. Work had to be done on time.

However, the advance was far from over.

One of the female witches sunk down in her pentacle as the rest followed her in mimicry.

The Dreadnoughts crushed the wall by merely kicking it away. It opened the path for the legions to sweep in the now free entrance to the next street.

Walburga wasn't even having fun at this point. Her boredom turned to brooding in a matter of seconds. It was irritating her if she had to be blunt, so much as to flaunt a little spark of mana and yell out some command here and there.

At this point Xenovia slowed down to catch her breath before turning back to check if she was being followed. It seemed that nothing was tailing her anymore, thus bringing a sense of peace in her mind as well as dread in which she sunk in.

Her breathing was heavy for sure. At this point everything ached for rest because she was getting really tired plus the pain was the only thing keeping her awake. Sweat dropped from her forehead down to her frightened eyes of amber. Her cloak was torn off, her biceps was bleeding because of the wound earlier as to hinder her movement in that limb.

The Executor grunted.

"Fucking hell... I'm a-alive... Did they make it, i wonder?", between each breath she exhaled and inhaled in spite of the chilling responses her body sent to her brain. The look on her face did not change much aside from the added concern in it, it was still kinda ugly and primal. Nothing more than pure survival was her drive now. Atleast she bought a few minutes extra to give them a chance or she hoped it was that way because she feared it would have been for naught...

Or she might have been the last one still breathing.

"Not quite."

Only for her intuition to tell her to roll out.

A crescent of darkness nearly had her shoulder if not for her fast dodge at the last moment, nearly destroying her shoulder plating in the process.

Ten casters were surrounding her location from the exits and from above her. That path for escape was cut off. It was a stupid idea to have done this act was what she was probably thinking.

Trying to swing back with her weapon only to be blocked by a shield, Xenovia tried to use her Blessings of the Wind again...

"Delay."

It failed miserably in the execution when another caster disrupted it. Afterwards a strong punch in her neck followed to bring her down on the floor.

Of course, she attempted to get back up only to be kicked in the stomach.

Each one created a different tool to indulge in one of their bloodier practices ever since Walburga Dressler replaced her deceased mother as the matriarch of the coven. It was a rite involving the shanking of a human by members to coat themselves in blood to be able to use a much darker, forbidden style of Blood Arts as a strengthening Channeling ritual to improve one's ability in the dark arts.

A woman among them took the honor to be the first in this bloody practice due to her seniority. A jagged dagger was twirled in her palm in her attempt to land the first blow in the stomach. Crouching down to stab it deep, it was met by an activation of the Physical Ward buff midway.

"Unwind, disrupt and shatter!", it was canceled out despite the struggling girl's efforts to avoid it.

So the only thing left to do was bring up her foot for a boot blade to snap open. The surprise came when her knee bent and struck forward with the small blade being rammed in the woman's thigh or so she thought.

It stunned her enough for Quarta to sling back a few steps to use the conditions necessary to utilize one of the buffs she used on herself. That one that wasn't able to be negated because it had already taken effect in the sure certainty of death.

Silent Prayer of a Martyr could be used by one of the cloth at a moment where death was certain. A time when nothing else would have the potential to prolong her life.

Light wrapped itself around her, derived from her Light Affinity by triggering the pentacles of the four Archangels on her hands in starting Mana Flow - her very own hexagram had etched the space where she stood. The four directions of the world, the four Classic Elements were further charged by Mana Flow in doubling her depleting mana for one big boom!

Uriel's Divine Flames were burning the woman and those who were near her. Atleast six of them caught fire that would automatically burn anything aligned with the wickedness of the dark. The second attribute of this spell was the particular effect of collapsing - anything that had been foolish enough or tainted depending on how low they were in depravity was pushed back by pure kinetic force into the walls.

Splattered upon the walls and the bodies collapsed in blood and flesh dyeing the walls.

It took no time to waste in getting back on the run for the Azure Priestess. The problem was those four hovering witches who had far superior skills in casting, no doubt. Aside from that the element of surprise was out of the picture so it would lead down to one single thing.

Physical combat.

Xenovia levitated through pure drive by leaping forward at the edge of the left building; clinging to the wall and pouncing at the other one, she did a back flip to grab the ankle of a woman through the momentum she had gained. Upon her body twisting at a near 120 degree did the second foot blade spring in stabbing her lower back. Then through pushing herself away, Quarta had the chance to kick away with the second action being two Black Key handles enlarging in blade length from their compact forms that she threw right into the other two as she was falling.

One bore Gabriel while the second had Michael on the handle.

Shields were raised to block, only to initiate the properties of thy name engraved in the form of ice spreading over the flat defensive spell by upsetting it's shape to transform it into a dome where the witch was crushed before any retaliation was available.

The second one darted the mage in earthly spears that breached her defensive ward. Impaling the dreadful woman in the head for a sure kill.

Only one remained.

This one threw a dark bolt that ate away at any light source in panic. The woman had not expected Xenovia to be able to fight at close quarters since most casters skipped physical combat to focus on razing their foes through the arcane forces. The bolt was atleast two meters in length like a scar, flying straight for the falling girl on the roof of the building.

Assuming that it would definitely kill her due to her Light Affinity, the bolt only met something that would always repel it's effects due to it's specific design. So the Azure Priestess only had one moment to pull it off right or die.

"Negative Impact Shield!", it booted up by flattening out like three squarish windows in a dark violet shade that was like a screen. It started up the second she smashed on the roof and her body curled in a ball to roll out but she hit into the door of a smaller roof building extension.

The shield took the brunt of the attack violently, curving inwards to make it redirect it's path by bouncing back at it's caster. Doubled in strength and taint.

It was much faster than expected when she tried to block it, only to fail at the last moment where the bolt went through her left side of the waist and passed through her chest and right shoulder, cutting her in two before she had realized it.

Death claimed another one due to her arrogance.

"Owww...god! This is so not real... I gotta move...", Xenovia held her right side with both hands, beginning to feel the strain she was put under as the adrenaline levels were cascading down. By her expression it was obvious she didn't think the plan would work at all, she was definitely surprised by her tactics which made her think how to further expand them.

"..I need.. To reach the rendezvous point...", looking down at her feet as she leaned on the door, Xenovia forced herself to stand up by holding the doorknob as support. "T-that bitch... I need to kill her before she kills the others. She's... What if she's controlling them?"

Taking off her mask she tightened it around her wound to secure it. That hand brought her pain when she moved it but there was no care about it. It had to do the job.

Only that horror struck again when she saw the Dreadnoughts coming her way...

And Walburga being held by her Saint Ira, flying by it's unnatural wings. Long range bombardment spells were knitting around the appendages as the wicked Witch of the Dark was grinning madly in trance upon seeing her. The distance was shortening, the bitch was coming to finish what she started without minding the drones advancing without her.

They didn't need her to do what they were made to do. She was here to cause mayhem for her own sick enjoyment, not so much as to help but she tagged along since the rest were her comrades.

It would take time for her platoon to enter but who cared? This was like the time of her life to revel in fun because it wasn't like she often went out for something like this.

Xenovia was prepared to run. Atleast she had four extra light blades on her lower body straps, a few more Black Key handles at her disposal. And of course one last Triplet Caster Magic, another Negative Impact Shield and Greater Magic Wall preloaded. Her grimoires slid in their holsters while the bible went into a small pouch underneath the crucible steel plates on her hips.

Walburga clenched her fingers together, extended them back to make a V-sign and crossed them once before she separated them while yelling like some freaking bloody lunatic at her in pure aggression mixed with ecstasy. She loved a good show herself so she always made it like a vaudevillian theater premiere. "Come to mamaaa! Gimme dat ginger boy, you damn cunt!", she had her eyes widen for a moment to look at her, "Here comes the hotstepper! Can i get a what?"

"Seems like I'll have to buy more time, Irina... Then it's time to make things right atleast once." she was done with running away. Two Black Key swords spun in her fingers upon her levitating off the roof with multiple feelings that forced her to stand her ground to the bitter end.

Atleast she would fight as a free woman. With dignity plastered on her face.

"Come and get it, you ugly bitch. We don't like hoes around here. Especially people like you."

XXX

13th September, Las Vegas, Nevada, Casino, Caesar's Palace, 03:01 am

Issei crawled towards Hilda, dragging himself through the corpses and blood on the floor in shambles. Even in the darkness he saw enough light from the various holes in the premises, crawling towards her way with a fastidious step akin to a beast on the hunt.

He was scared. He was shivering as chills went down his spine, searching for her in a hurry.

He crawled to her, bringing his body closer and closer over her until he grabbed her within his embrace and pushed her naked body to his chest. They were alone among a pile of corpses, hidden by the darkness they dwelled in for so long.

Her wounds were patching up but she was dead tired, she only glanced at him in weariness since the strain had rendered her unable to move but she could talk atleast for now.

"...i told...you. I just need a minute to g...get back up...", she feebly muttered as she tried to stand up but she could not. Her breathing was heavy and hitched, struggling to stand on her own if he hadn't caught her to support her. "...fuck, i need...a beer right now...", she smiled with nothing behind it, an subconscious smirk that gleamed back at him in tranquil sincerity.

The Dragon grabbed the skintight suit and dusted it off to cover her with it. It didn't matter if it was covered in blood, it was far better than nothing.

"...you could have died... Do you realize that?", now he couldn't keep it steady because of what he saw. He was miserable, he was cracking up because of the sudden pain that hit him right in the heart. The cold visage loosened up to a mere grimace that had some feeling behind it. "Let's run away. Now. I'm scared... We need to go...", he had lost his composure. The sharp eyes were now swimming in dread and terror as a display of actual emotion.

Hilda wheezed in pain before realizing she was naked and covered in blood. It was a secondary thought that didn't matter much at this point. Even in the condition she was she burst out in mad laughter to cope with it, that terrible fear of death she met for the second time. "...jeez, now i get you...emotional... And you practically saw my tits just now...great...", she rolled her eyes in relief. She was alive, she felt more alive than ever before. Nothing else mattered because she was alive. The thrill, the rush of adrenaline. Everything.

It didn't last long before she broke down in tears. It was too much to handle, the feedback of emotions and pain brought her down to a miserable, pitiful crying fit with her arms gripping his shoulders tightly as to never let go.

"You idiot... Don't you want to live?! Live, damn it! I hate you... You drive me crazy.", she pounded her fists over his back now in using strength to bash him. It was ugly, it was desperate, it was frustrating and spiteful in the way she glanced at him with those damn eyes of her's. "I hate you so much! I hate you... I hate you... But if you leave me...I'll kill myself. And...", she broke in another crying fit as she gave up in trying to hit him. Her wails were so ugly like the wretched scream of a dying animal but as ugly as the screech of a demon. She burrowed her face into his chest and hugged tightly, trying to bring out some strength in her to do it but her arms slid down helplessly.

He only nodded in acceptance. He felt empty and like being nothing. "I...know you do... But isn't that why... Forget it...", he stood there silent in having nothing else to add. Anything more and she would have continued to beat him, he chose to remain silent out of shame and guilt.

Silence was the veil over them. Everything else was redundant.

The short girl was in one big emotional blender, her face unrecognizable in a mixture of conflicting emotions that were so hard to read as her crying died out like the last flicker of a flame. It was empty now, she had to filter everything she felt to gain clarity or she would have been crushed under the emotional duress.

"...I'm sorry... I need help... Comfort me, please...", it was hard to decipher what she wanted at this point exactly. Everything felt so weird, it wasn't anything strong but neither was it weak. She just wanted someone to tell her it was alright, that it meant something at all. She spat blood that had made her feel sick, a bloody spit upon the nearest corpse did she release.

The devilish Dragon was the same. Restraint he lost when he grabbed the back of her neck and pushed her quadra-tails to the side. It wasn't anything done out of love, it was because both of them were so fucked up to care about anything else at this point. It meant nothing else but the need to feel alive, any contemplation and reasoning were thrown away when he brought her closer and closer...

She gave in, it didn't matter who it was as long as it made her feel alive. They needed it, it was a way to relieve stress and get a good hang of it. Even if it meant casting aside any reservations.

Her bloody lips pressed gently against his before she completely lost it, gripped his head and pried open his mouth to slide her tongue in it. It might have been selfish and greedy but they didn't care about anything like that. The blood soaked both of them, smearing over each other's skin as they started to kiss in a red dyed tongue play of pushing back and forth in delirious comfort.

Her body pushed him down as they completely left any morality behind, only reveling in the fact that they were alive and breathing. His right hand grabbed one of her naked breasts to knead and squeeze it, smearing the blood further over her cleavage in a ravenous rub. It was their victory over having beaten the crap out of the filthy Asura Dragon and for having dealt crippling blows to the adversary of the God of Rain.

It was the wrong time for sure. It wasn't because they needed any attachment or attraction to do this, anything would suffice because it was comfort. Even if it would hurt their feelings and make everything awkward, however, it was necessary to keep it together.

It was so wrong on it's own that they did this. His hand tapped her back to make her stop, both separating with a bloody trail between them. It was confusion painted on their faces, they had no idea why they did that. Kissing while they were standing in a bloody mess of organs, blood and dead bodies. It was so wrong and disgusting but it didn't matter because it felt better for a moment. No strings attached, no necessity for guilt and no feelings to screw things between them.

She only looked back in the same disbelief and confusion as he did. It was way too messy to determine anything at this point. But it was enough to give them some peace of mind, even for a moment.

Issei undid her anchor clips to let her hair flow freely and cover her naked bust with the tresses. They were a mess, ruffled and dirtied. The stench of blood was like a coating over their forms, a badge to add on the trophies earned with each victory.

Her sound attacks had hurt him quite a lot even when he kept his distance, their specific frequency had dealt serious damage to his body due to the Evil Pieces nearly being disrupted for a few moments. His body had flickered between existing and nonexisting like before if she had not anchored him back by reconnecting their bond through something that could do it. They didn't have any life to sacrifice so they opted for the blood on them and some intimacy to give him a little push to make sure he would not fade.

"...I'm sorry... I", she tried to respond but she did get the chance once he placed a hand over her lips.

"Boot Up. Plating Ensemble.", he muttered only in a strained voice that was spilling out the contents of his mind.

The skintight suit of her's stood up as if it were a person, went behind her and broke down into a malleable form that stuck onto her body into reforming back to it's previous version, suiting her up. It was cleaned now and so did the kevlar plates align back to where they were.

The boots and belts jumped at her to clip and slide on her body afterwards.

He lifted her back on her feet and picked up the AK-47. "Can you stand? Can you move?", it was more out of habit than actually having any meaning. He placed his hand upon her shoulder to initiate a healing buff with the intention of using something else to speed up her recovery.

What better way than to boost her physical parameters? It would also enhance her physical recovery as the body would speed up in fixing itself.

[Boost!]

Then he transferred it to her through the Transfer function. It should be enough to enable her to walk out of here but a hospital would have been the best idea.

Her gaze darted back to his in trying to see what was there. She saw blackness with spots of green, a tiny yellow, deep red and a disgusting violet shade that told her one thing - it was pure, soul crushing terror spreading over him. Her hands shivered at the thought of nearly dying again, it made her so sick as to wish she could vomit to ease herself.

Her soprano voice faintly uttered the question in fright... "Who... w-was th-that... What-

He averted his eyes from her in trying to protect his sanity, fearing to answer her question. He was tense and stiff, his blood froze, chills crept upon his spine. So did the helpless desire to scream, sadly he could not get the words out of his throat. It was burning, it was eating him from the inside if he tried to tell her.

Her hand gripped his palm in a reassuring tug, pulling him closer. It was the simple act of giving comfort. She was still woozy, frightened enough to shake and for her teeth to clatter uncontrollably. "...it's ok-kay... Izzy, someone is calling for you... You should go..."

She noticed the sealing mechanism pop out in resonating with a specific frequency she could hear and understand due to her Sound Affinity, it was a cypher in expressing one clear message that was like a computer code, a text message in likeness. It was linked to another mechanism of the same kind.

Issei coldly responded, knowing what she meant by those words. "I know... I owe you big time. ", his eyes were slowly returning to their sharp, piercing qualities with the melancholic, rotten gaze that always clung to them like glue. It wasn't completely there but a sense of closeness he did express. He knelt down to grab her hat, placing it upon her lovely patches of blonde hair.

"Thank you for believing in me, Hilda."

It was quiet. It was like the whisper of a ghost in it's delivery. Yet, he did it with no aversion to using her name as a sign of closeness. The professional, formal tone he did not drop but the feeling behind it counted much more.

And there was a thin, almost invisible smile on his lips.

With his right foot he drew the outlines of a rectangle, manifesting the door they usually used to access the bar from multiple spots all around the world.

It was finally available to them after the demonic dragon had disappeared from sight but not from their minds.

Of course, something else caught his attention. Nearby, where Vritra stood before were the chipped off remains of it's armor plating and a pair of tentacles that were in an arguably good condition. The chest segmented armor was there along with the big orb that was a part of it. And another one that was smaller in size, that one had been a part of the multi-plated shoulder plating. All of those were materials to be used for something he could make - precisely, it was a resource he would not leave behind.

He picked up her coat, carefully moving between guts and bodies to reach the spot, retrieving the left behind pieces by using the uniform as a bag with the sleeves locked in a knot to transport the materials easily.

He raced back to the door, kneeling to open it. The way he chose to adress her inquiry was the blunt truth he did not spare for nothing in the world. It was a promise he had made, one both parties swore to enact if the day when it would be necessary should arrive. There was the clear intention in his brown eyes, it was a promise he would keep. And in return he knew she would do her best to keep her end of the deal.

"I'm not going there to save her... No, it's nothing serious like that. What I'm going to do for Sitri is keep my promise...", Issei scrunched his brows in a serious expression like usually. It was morose and pensive, devoid of sentiment and no emphaty did he direct when he finished his sentence.

"I'm going to kill her before they do."

The door beneath them opened for them to fall down and dissappear without a trace. The casino complex crashed in on itself because there was nothing to support it. The roof caved in, and the corpses and the blood were erased as if they had never existed.

XXX