A/N: Hi everyone. Let me first THANK YOU for the 100th follower and 100th reviewer. The fact that this story could still garner your interest humbles me. In fact, I don't really know if anyone reads this anymore because I've been so slow in my updates. Secondly, my apologies for the late update. You see, I'm sick and I've just been… procrastinating. I've finished this chapter a week or so ago but I kept tweaking it because it didn't feel right. This chapter is now the turning point, which means, it's the halfway point for the story and I wanted to do it justice. Jump on the bandwagon and lesssgggoooo! Dedicated to my muse, my lady, ToktelasAndTea who never ceases to amaze me with her talents. Disclaimed.

Chapter 25: Darkness, Defeated

Daughter of Darkness
Other World

Cocooned in a crystal bubble, her soul – a mass of black and crimson light – trapped within her own dying body, she watched helplessly the trails of crystal-like cerulean-colored energy criss-crossing above her. Her consciousness was there, she knew she was not quite… dead but she also knew that her body had been injured grievously in that blast. Damn, Nii-chan, a little control would've been nice, she thought softly, it would take awhile for this body to heal, though. As she watched the trail of energies closing and repairing wounds to her internal organs, expelling the toxic venom from the beast her brother was harboring like a fugitive, she noticed a strange stream of silver energy infusing with the cerulean energy of her daemon kind.

Curious, she leaned closer to the bubble wall protecting her soul and inspected the flow with the eyes of a dark sorceress. The silver trails were soft, graceful even, sparkling against the sharper planes of its cerulean counterpart. It danced and weaved and followed the blue trail everywhere. I have never seen this in my centuries of healing, the sorceress thought to herself, unconsciously tapping an apparition-like slender finger against ghostly lips. She continued watching the intricate dances between the two energies and decided, after a moment, that she was weary. The soul quietly returned to the center of the glass bubble, curling in on itself and rested. Holding consciousness was too draining and it would affect her body's healing process.

Nii-chan… It's not your fault… I'll be all right…

The last thought left her mind as the dark priestess allowed her soul to succumb to sleep; unaware that the silver energy had caressed the crystal bubble and cosseted it within a protective web.

Son of Darkness
Pandaemonium Castle

"She'll be alright, Masamune,".

The voice of the daemon lord was laden with uncertainty and the daemon prince knew his father only needed to say it out loud to assure the both of them. His eyes followed the trail of blue energy reverberating around the bodice of his unconscious sister, weaving in and out, repairing damages unseen to the naked eye. They had spent countless hours channeling their energies into the High Priestess, swaying from the toll it had taken on them. The injuries inflicted by a daemon onto another daemon were far more precarious than damages done by angels. Daemons had built immunities that could withstand the force of light emanated by angels after centuries of battles but to be hurt, gravely at that, by the darkness that was akin to second skin? It wasn't a thought any daemon would spontaneously entertain.

Masamune lifted the back of his hand to wipe the crimson sweat dotting his eyebrows away. He was pallid; the beast within him had sapped a good chunk of his energy. His heartbeat thudded erratically hollow against his rib cage and he knew he would collapse if he forced what little remaining energy he had left to heal his sister. He could feel the beast lurking underneath his skin, curious, satiated for the moment that its adversary was out of commission. Like a second soul, a parasite using his body as a host, the beast simmered and bubbled inside him contently. Now that it has awakened, it waited patiently for the opportunity to break free of its captivity once again. Masamune knew it was only a matter of time before the beast became restless once more. He knew he had to find a way to control it.

"Before it kills me," inadvertently the whisper left his lips, loud enough for his father to hear.

A worried frown marred the beauty of Lucifer's angelic face as his head snapped up to that small confession. He took a step towards the son he nearly lost but almost immediately, Masamune backed away, his palms facing upwards, halting the Daemon King from advancing. Masamune turned his face away, hiding the shame of what he had done to his own family. He knew, he knew that until he was able to control the beast of Armageddon that resided within his battered body, he was a death threat to everyone within arm's range. Lucifer understood why but his heart ached for the pain and the fear that was so evident on his son's face. His prince, his right hand man, his son… who had never known fear until this moment was now a mere shadow of his former self.

"Masamune…"

There were no words that he could string to soothe the child he had raised for over 6000 years. At long last, the eloquent Daemon King, the ruler of Infernus and the Underworlds, known to have manipulated words to lure, entice, seduce thousands of souls into succumbing to their inner monsters, was at lost.

"Papa… I have to leave," Masamune whispered, "I can no longer be here,"

The chanting in the healing chamber came to a halt as the words left his lips. The daemon prince gritted his teeth to prepare for the argument… that never came. As the silence continued, he looked up to see the eyes of his uncles and the eyes of his sentinels watching him, shocked. He turned to look at his father and saw the anger flickering in the eyes of the patriarch. Masamune took a step towards his father but just as immediately, he could feel the hackles of the beast rising, its body tensing, its teeth bared at him from within like a wolf cornered by hunters. Clenching his fist to his heart, Masamune bowed his head and fell to one knee, kneeling before the Daemon King.

"I am not running away… It's wary, Papa. My sister had tried to kill it once, it does not trust the company I keep now," Masamune pleaded quietly, seeking his father's blessings, "Until I can control it, I am a threat to all of Pandaemonium. Please Papa, I beg your forgiveness and understanding,"

"Return to your holding chambers my son," Lucifer replied in a strained voice, "We need not make rash decisions in the light of what had just happened,"

"But Papa–!"

"Do you think you can leave Infernus again, Masamune? It is not as easily done as said! The Sisters Fate and Mother Earth had punished you the first time you ascended Earth! Do you remember what happened when you left Infernus to be born into the human realm? The pain? The memory lost? Eighteen years, Masamune, eighteen years I waited for you and your sister to return to me!"

"Papa…"

"I will weigh your decisions with the imperial council, but right now…" Lucifer breathed deeply, his gaze falling on the comatose body of his daughter, dispelling the tension from the explosive tirade, "Right now, I cannot lose you both again,"

The quiet agony in the patriarch's voice as he spoke his last words hurt the daemon prince more than the physical pain he had caused his family to suffer. Even after all he had done, and failed to accomplish, his father had already forgiven him. He stood up and bowed low, turning on his heels soon after; leaving the healing chambers of his sister to lock himself in elsewhere before someone could see the tears that had gathered in his eyes.

Chambers of the Angel
Pandaemonium Castle

She woke up to the unfamiliar sights of a different bedchamber, one that was not her own but better than the dungeon she had occupied in what seemed like eons ago. A pang of sadness enveloped her. Too many things had changed in the last few days that had made her questioned her faith in the Archangels and ultimately in God Himself. Her tired eyes quickly took stock of the bedroom and sensing no immediate threat, she lifted herself from under the covers. Her barren feet touched the cold floor gingerly. A quick glance towards the fireplace in the centerpiece wall of the bedchamber revealed the dying embers of a fire that had kept her warm while she slept. There was no one in sight and as she rubbed her eyes, she inhaled sharply, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand. Almost immediately she regretted that action. She wrinkled her delicate nose in disgust as a frown marred the smooth planes of her forehead. The unmistakable stale scent of tobacco permeated every fiber and fabric of this room and now that she had fully awakened, she was tempted to throw open the windows to air it. No doubt the daemon who resided in this room before her was an addict to the human drug, nicotine.

"Nii-chan, you still smoke like a chimney," the angel whispered as she lifted a hand to release the latch on the window closest to her.

Resting her elbows on the window ledge, the angel raised her gazes into the crimson sky, towards the eclipsed sun. How symbolic, she thought contemplatively, the ring of fire visible around the black moon was akin to the infinite circle of life, forever bright, forever living, never ending – like the war between good and evil, of angels and daemons, of Heaven's dominance over Infernus. The thought came unbidden to her mind. Good? Evil? Who was which? The ring of fire was like a cage, an enclosure that had for eternity held darkness at its bay, ready to burn trespassers alive. A shudder ran up her spine and the angel looked away as another thought seeped its way into her mind. How does it feel to be caged away… forever? Sensing that her thoughts were taking her down a path she had never once noticed, the angel took to the doors, needing to know the truth of their very existence in this universe.

"I call upon the Sight of the Seers of my forefathers and my ancestors, lend me your eyes so that I may see the truth for myself," she whispered, "Videte,"

The soft pads of her delicate fingers traced the slightly raised scriptures chiseled into the romanesque, gothic-styled walls as she wound her way around the maze that was Infernus's heart, the Pandaemonium Castle. Her feet made no sound as she noiselessly moved her way across interweaving granite and marbled floors; lithe, agile, light on the tips of her toes. The memories in the walls of this unorthodox palace had called to her. As a descendant from a bloodline of pure seers, her every touch rekindled nuances of memories embedded into these very walls. Unlike her brother, who had the ability to foresee the future, she had the ability to recall the past of the living or dead. When punishments needed execution, she would be the poor soul's last line of defense. Her ability to see past the lies fabricated by souls allowed her to become the Archangel Gabriel's Sentinel; for her words alone could condemn a soul to its fitting death.

As images flitted dimly in her mind, her eyes began to darken and glistened with understanding, and with it, sadness and regret. Centuries of lies had been shoved down her throat and she had swallowed them loyally, unconditionally, unquestioningly. Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat, she continued to trace her fingers along the walls; forcing her inner eyes to see the truth, seeing what others could no longer see. These walls held within them the savage blood-red memories of the dead; of daemons mutilated and wounded in battles with the Archangels of Heaven.

Amidst the shadows of their pain, she could feel their unwavering loyalty to the Lord of the Underworld; their bond of brotherhood unbreakable, their sworn pledges to fight to the death unshakeable. The Sentinels, the ministers, Lord Lucifer himself, and his two children were at the forefront of each war; battle ready and battle scarred. They protected their wounded, ensured that they were taken care of and jumped into battle as soon as those who were injured were attended to. How different were their war strategies from those of Heaven. She turned her head slightly towards a high window and was taken aback by the disgust she felt in what she saw. Seeing from the eyes of another daemon soul, the Archangels of Heaven were the last to leave their posts. Their manic eyes and excited sneers revealed the blood thirst they had for the war, eagerly drinking in the view below them as they ordered soldiers after soldiers into the battlefield.

Where were they? Where was she? She, along with the other Sentinels stood loyally, like well-trained dogs, behind their masters, expressionless, emotionless, cold and detached, ready to fight to the death in the name of Heaven. She watched in repulsion as the Archangel Michael, manic-eyed, ordered another battalion of soldiers into the field, spittle accompanying his screaming commands, getting off on the bloodshed beneath his feet. She watched in horror as lesser angels, centuries younger than herself; shook in terror as the daemon legion descended upon them. They were mere children sent forth into battle to be slaughtered by seasoned hordes of the daemon legion. But what's this? Instinctively the angel craned her neck, as she caught an echo of a command from the Daemon King who led his cavalry.

"Do not kill them, they are children! Punish enough only to paralyze the soldiers from ascending our wounded!" came the command, repeated many times in unison as the message was passed on, "Let them return to their families alive,"

The angel staggered backwards from the force of the memory, bile rising in her throat and she emptied the contents of her stomach onto the floor. The Daemon King had led his cavalry into battle himself, placed his life and the lives of his ministers and sentinels on the line of Death before his soldiers! He even placed the lives of the soldiers he had wounded above himself! She blinked and forced herself to continue watching, tears streaming down her cheeks from centuries of lies and denials, sifting through the memories of battles long gone. She caught another memory, of a daemon soldier who wounded a young angel but did not kill him. She saw the anticipation of Death and the confusion on the angel's face as the daemon shook his head and moved on. She saw more similar memories; Heaven's angels were wounded grievously but they had survived, crippled but alive. The Daemon King had shown them the mercy the Archangels did not give in return.

They were weary, their numbers dwindling as more angels descended upon them. Wiping away the rivulets of tears that had made twin paths down her cheeks with the back of her hand, she recalled the last crystal clear memories of the soul she had looked into. Lord Lucifer didn't run away. He didn't retreat out of defeat. She saw the determination in his eyes as he gunned for the Archangel Michael on his demonic Night Mare. The imperials ordered the retreat because so many were senselessly wounded and despite the hatred she could feel emanating from that memory, worry was paramount above all – not worry for his own safety, but worry for the well being of his daemons. He was not about to let the Archangels obliterate every last one of his daemons even if they had the heart to sacrifice their soldiers while they waited and sat on their high plinths, safely out of reach. She felt the disgust in Lord Lucifer's anger as he saw the Archangels watching the battles raging below their feet; smiling as though they were enjoying a show.

"We are the last line of defense! Watch the stupidity of the Daemons! They never learn from their mistakes! Look to the daemons, children of Heaven! Watch how they run away with their tails between their legs!"

Those words echoed in her mind as she recalled Archangel Michael's taunt at the end of the last battle. She had seen victory for Heaven that night and had celebrated with mead and joy with the remaining angels. Good had triumphed over evil once again! Never once had she thought of why Lord Lucifer retreated…

What have I done…

The question remained in her mind as reality returned to her. Shame filled her every core as she silently wept. She could not unsee what she had just seen. She could not deny the truth her sight had presented her. The shame of sacrificing so many angels in the name of God paralyzed her as she fell to her knees. They forced her to bow in shame for her part in centuries of mindless, mechanical massacre. Flashes of the fallen angels and daemons she had wasted in her warpath over the centuries began to rise to the surface of her memories. She had distanced herself from feeling any guilt, believing she was carrying out God's justice. She never saw them as more than daemons. She, like the Archangels, treated the fallens as nothing more but filth. But they weren't filth… Not at all… The images that had unfolded from the memories of souls killed in the battles descended on her, accused her, judged her. In the name of God, she had slaughtered and butchered her own childhood friends with her bare hands. Friends she grew up with and thought she was redeeming; friends who looked at her sadly in understanding as she raised her holy scimitar to deliver the final blow; friends… who, moments before Death greeted them, had smiled at her before they closed their eyes. She never understood why… until now.

"Child… What are you doing so far into the castle? You shouldn't wander about unguided,"

A warm hand pressed itself atop her head and she looked up swiftly. The melodious tenor held genuine worry and the obvious concern she saw in the Daemon King's human expression brought a well of fresh tears to her eyes. Standing behind the Daemon King, their expressions mirroring his, were his ministers. The silver-haired daemon sentinel broke rank and stepped forward quickly, gathering the angel into his arms, worried that she might've accidentally been hurt.

"Aki, my King is right, you shouldn't wander about. The castle is built with hidden traps that could kill you," Akihiko whispered, an exhausted smile on his face as he wiped his sister's tears away with the pads of his thumbs.

"Nii-chan…" Aki whispered, renewed tears threatening to spill again.

"Akihiko, please guide your sister back to her bedchambers. She would be safer there until we can hold council. It is not safe out here," Behemoth instructed his Sentinel, his gruff voice surprisingly gentle, "I dismiss you from your duties,"

"Yes, my Lord," Akihiko bowed his head, his voice almost in welcomed relieve, betraying the weight of his exhaustion, "Thank you,"

"My brothers, my children, it be best that all of you return to your chambers and rest. There isn't much that can be done now. My daughter is sleeping the sleep of artificial death to preserve her soul and my son… my son will be fine. He just needs time," Lucifer interjected, letting a strained chuckle escape his lips as he turned on his heels, his cloak trailing behind him, billowing about his ankles, waving and calling out, "…and I need sleep. You young ones will be the death of me,".

"My Lord–!"

"Wait–!,"

"Aki! Don't–!,"

"Hmm?" Lucifer turned, no longer masking his fatigue as something had grabbed hold of the edge of his cloak, pulling him to a complete stop. He smiled endearingly at the sight of the little angel who barely came up to his shoulders, shaking horribly in her stance, as though he lived to entertain the whims of an impertinent child, "What is it, angel of Heaven?"

"I… My Lord…" Aki whispered, lowering her eyes to her feet as she let go of the Daemon King's cloak, her hands held tightly to her thudding heart as earnest tears escaped the confines of her long lashes, "My Lord, please forgive me,"

The air was pregnant with silence. It was so thick that one could slice a knife right through it. Collective breaths were held as they awaited Lord Lucifer's decree. The Daemon King was already at his edge, he had been injured hours ago and was still not completely healed, the venom in his shoulder was taking a while to expel itself. He had used up energy he did not have to preserve the daughter who had sacrificed her life for him and to lock the beast that lurked inside his son. His mind was filled with thoughts for his only son. This moment, he was a deity not to be trifled with by a mere angel casted out of Heaven begging his forgiveness and seeking redemption.

Until a warm hand cupped her right cheek.

Aki looked up and saw the tired smile etched into the face of the Daemon King.

"All's well," he whispered, before turning to leave.

Aki watched in awe at the retreating figure of the King of the Underworld. It was centuries of training that had held her feet firmly on the ground for she was about ready to collapse out of fear and relief. For all of his transgressions against the human race, and against Heaven, he did it out of the belief that he was right to rebel against the injustice that had done nothing but destroyed him. From the shadows of Death, he had persevered against all odds, took his punishments in stride and honed his inhumane powers. He was indeed more angel than any of the Archangels put together…

Son of Darkness
Reflections

He had let him in the way he had never let anyone else in before; he had weaved his way under his skin, irritated him, bemused him, enthralled him; he had lodged himself in his heart, carved a home in it, locked the doors and threw away the keys before he knew it was even happening… and he had let himself fall deeply in love. An equation he did not anticipate to a Fate so cruel. He scoffed at the thought in his mind. What goes around comes back around, he jibed. He was born into the daemon race, honed in the fires of Hell, prince to the underworld, heir to the throne. Yet, none other than love had all but clouded his judgments and weakened him.

"Love, neither is it good nor evil, it is all consuming, it destroys the heart of the bearer and cripples his mind. Oda Ritsu, how you have consumed my thoughts and my being, how you have destroyed my heart and crippled my soul. For once, in this lifetime, I questioned my own judgments. I, Prince of the Underworld! Legions of daemons in my command! I, whose soul carried the taint of the Beast, the harbinger of destruction! The Destroyer! I… who fell prey to this notion of love. How foolish love makes us become, Oda Ritsu,"

The name of the angel left his lips in a whisper, letting the warm breeze carry his plea to the ends of the worlds beyond that of his own world in the hopes that it would reach him, wherever he may be, his love. For a moment, the Dark Prince stood there on the balcony overlooking the courtyard; his liquid gold eyes gazing forlornly into the faraway distance. He stood there contemplating throwing himself over the balcony over the disgrace he had painted onto his Father's face, over in so much as falling in love with an angel he was supposed to destroy. Why didn't he destroy him? Why let him in? Why?

Pushing himself away from the edge of the balcony and the temptation to destroy himself, he returned into the thresholds of the bedchamber he was now occupying. There was a sheen of an electrical charge around the room, cocooning it no doubt with a protection dome, to keep an eye on him, to keep him under control and he more than understood why. How selfish of him to only think of himself at this very moment when… when his own flesh and blood had been mortally wounded because of him. His memories were hazy, only bits and pieces at best but he knew deep down inside, if he dug deep enough he would remember every single atrocity he had committed against his own family because of the angel he had fallen in love with. He would remember what he had done, how he… how he nearly murdered his own sister, how he had injured his own father… how he was so overcome with the red lust for blood. So, why hadn't he done so? Fear. Fear of the unknown crippled him every time he found the courage to seek the truth in his mind and find the beast. Fear of the guilt that would have consumed him mind and soul had he seen what he had done.

With every passing second, he could feel the beast lurking beneath the surface, growing stronger each moment. Taunting him, laughing at him for his weakness. Sighing heavily to himself, Masamune sat by the chair near the fireplace. The opened balcony allowed a soft breeze to flit in and out of the room, attempting to soothe his regrets, his sadness and the hopelessness he felt right now. He had no choice but to wait for the council. He had to wait for his Father's punishments. It was only fitting after what he had done. He would not forgive himself so easily as long as his sister was still asleep in the shadows of Death.

Leaning his head against the chair, his gaze fell on the view outside the balcony. Beyond the castle grounds and as far as the eyes could see, everything he saw, he drank in sadly, like a sailor lost at sea missing home. This was home; this was where he truly belonged. Not on Earth, and certainly not in Heaven but… as a thought penetrated his exhausted mind and as his heart clenched tightly… I belonged with him.

"Oda Ritsu…"

Shutting his eyes, allowing the enchantments of sleep to overcome his exhaustion, his last thoughts were on the emerald-eyed angel he had lost. His true home.