Sorry for the long wait; when writer's block hits, it hits hard. Chloe is Monaco.

Anyway this isn't the last part. There will be one more part after this.

Edit! This use to be chapter 25 part 2. It is now chapter 26, obviously.

The distinct lack of sunlight—or any light—was doing nothing to help him feel like this could end in any way that benefited him. Everything had a dark shade to it, like all the light that should have been there was sucked out, or consumed by the ever-expanding darkness this realm so easily immersed itself in. He should feel at home here; the darkness coupled with the corrupted energy flowing freely through the air was remarkably similar to Hell. However, only half of him felt comfortable, and only in a purely physical way. His mind, both sides of it, dreaded what he was about to do.

For once both sides of him agreed on something. Al was dangerous, as he'd known since his creation, but now he was realizing that he'd rather die than continue living in this manner. Al took everything he wanted and destroyed those who got in his way. He manipulated, he cheated, he seduced and he killed, all without remorse or guilt. Despite being born an Angel he was more of a Demon than Ivan could ever hope—or want—to be.

He was standing on the edge of what he believed to be another memory of Alfred's, though which he had no way of knowing. The realm they were trapped in occasionally showed its prisoners memories of their pasts, probably just to drive them slowly insane. Ivan wouldn't put it past a realm controlled and only accessible by Demons to try and do something like that. He was lucky because a vast majority of his past was happy: escaping Hell, meeting Katyusha, living freely for years with a real family, meeting Alfred. Only the last few years of his life had been turned into nightmares, shackled as he was to a monster.

Whatever the memory was from it looked pleasant enough. Ivan knew it would be more so if there was a sun, or wind, or color, but there was only darkness and silence and blackness, everywhere, pressing in and suffocating.

He'd completed the first part of what he'd promised. The others where safe in the realm, already moving on to their destination. Now came the second part: distraction. He shuddered at the thought, because there was so little that could keep Al's interest. The only mildly-successful way, he knew from experience, was either sex, violence, or both mixed in some horrifying combination that made him sick with himself for days afterward. But he didn't have a choice now; if he wanted his own Alfred back, he'd have to take one for the team, as the human expression went. Surprisingly accurate.

He stepped onto the grass of the park Al was lounging in. Why Al was relaxing in a relatively peaceful environment was beyond his understanding, but he wouldn't question it. He would simply do what was needed of him.

He found Al easily through their link, but he stopped a few feet away, imaging just for a moment that it was his Alfred sitting there, eyes closed and face tilted up towards the sky. The illusion was shattered as Al spoke.

"Ivan," Al acknowledged, opening his eyes but keeping them fixed on the dark, foggy "sky" the realm was trying to imitate. Ivan noticed that one of Al's hands was stuffed in his jacket pocket, the other behind his head. "How nice to see you again." The sarcasm was heavy, the words having a sickeningly sweet edge to them. Al obviously didn't want to be anywhere near him, not after their last confrontation on the bridge.

Ivan couldn't blame Al for acting so flippant about his approach. After all, it was always Al who sought Ivan out, and never the other way around. Ivan simply didn't want anything to do with Al, as the man was a constant reminder of his failure to protect his most important person. Somehow, he felt as if he was losing some twisted game by seeking Al out.

Remaining silent, he strode purposely over to where Al was relaxing. Hearing his quick approach, Al opened the eyes he'd closed when Ivan hadn't responded, and when Al saw him standing much closer than before, he sat up slightly and glared. But before he could say anything else, Ivan lunged at him.

His forwardness worked to his advantage, as he planted both hands on Al's shoulders and pinned him to the ground. Not relaxing for a second, he held one knee in position over Al's stomach for added measure, and growled because he was trying to be as threatening as possible, and it was an automatic reaction. One that did little to actually threaten Al, but he couldn't fight instinct in this situation. Plus, it showed he was serious. However, the look Al was giving him almost had him let go and cower, because it promised pain and suffering, and Ivan could only hope Al didn't break too many of his bones, or outright kill him.

Determined, he sacrificed a hold on one of Al's shoulders to grip his jaw, and pressed their lips together before Al could snarl out a protest, or a threat that would work ten times more effectively than any growling Ivan did. For a moment he knew only hatred and self-disgust, but then he felt Al smile against his lips, and his blood might as well have been turned to ice.

Al was stronger than him, and proved it by pushing him over to roll on top. Ivan kept his hold on Al's shoulder, and adjusted by sliding it over to grip the back of Al's neck, using his new hold to pull a willing Al down to his lips again. It took everything in him not to gag, and even more not to simply let go and give Al what he wanted: a good fuck.

His internal agonizing must have shown on his face, because Al pulled back and stared down at him. With little effort he pulled Ivan's hand away from his neck, and let it fall limply to the ground. He was confident Ivan wouldn't attack him, and pleasantly confused that the half-Demon was even doing this.

"What's wrong now?" He purred, arching a bit and pressing certain parts of their bodies together. Ivan's face twisted into something dark.

"As usual, our sessions never cease to fill me with hatred and disgust. Did you know that? I hate you so much, and the happiest day of my life will be when you are destroyed, purged from this world like the disease you are." He made no attempt to hide the biting, ice cold edge to his voice, because he knew it would not deter Al; just the opposite.

"Ooohh," Al shuddered, rocking his hips back and forth absentmindedly, making Ivan's fingers dig into the black earth. "Babe, you know how that talk gets me..."

Biting back the nasty retort on the tip of his tongue, he resigned himself, finally, to his fate. He'd approached Al and he'd been the one to initiate what was surely going to be a violent and unhealthy sexual experience. For him at least, because he knew the bastard above him would call it a win.

Shakily, he pulled Al down to shut that stupid mouth of his. He hated this. He hated this Alfred, hated this place, hated what he'd become. What could he have possibly done to deserve this fate? Surely this had to be worse than death. Maybe it was pursuing the relationship in the first place. Sure, he hadn't know what Alfred was, but Alfred would have been able to sense what he was. And yet, had still accepted offer after offer for lunch, dinner, anything Ivan could think of to just...be around the peppy blond. Maybe it was their fateful meeting in that gym all those years ago which derailed their futures. If so it was his fault, and for that he'd never forgive himself.

Once again Al smiled against his lips, and his hate grew deeper, if possible.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice?" Al asked suddenly, pulling away. There was an expression on his face Ivan couldn't figure out; not completely a glare but mixed with something darker. Coupled with his question Ivan got the feeling Al knew something he shouldn't have any knowledge of.

Sharp claws along his sides had him hissing out in pain. They dug into his skin, drawing blood that stained his already ruined clothes. The grip intensified before loosening slightly.

"Answer me."

More pain; Ivan was a weak man now, after years of mind games and abuse. "What do you want to hear?" He bit out between clenched teeth.

Al laughed, the sound distorted from the original in Ivan's mind. Those claws pressed harder and harder into his flesh each passing minute. "Oh Ivan. You've been very admirable these last few years, I must admit. But playtime's over, do you understand? I am not going to ask again."

Even more shadow around them; Al had his wings out. Ivan could see a whip-like tail flicking back and forth out of his peripheral vision. The claws at his sides dug in almost unbearably. This was bad, really, scary bad. Al knew...about the others? The alternates? The thought invaded his mind and prickled along his spine and nerves.

In his panic, the soft touch to his cheek almost wasn't registered, but the two hands cupping his face broke through the haze. Focusing above him, it took his brain a few seconds to accept the person leaning over him, smile so sweet it reminded him of hot nights and tall grass and flowers. Of open fields with hundreds of stars at night, a warm hand tucked in his own...

He didn't know when the tears started.

Alfred was above him. Alfred with his bright blond hair and stupidly happy smile and beautiful blue eyes. Alfred with his favorite jacket and pair of jeans. Normal. Pure. And all his.

"You would never lie to me, would you?" Alfred asked, acting shy as he smiled at Ivan.(Beneath his "innocent" exterior laid a Demon, a monster ready to prey upon the weak, all sharp teeth and cutting words, hissed promises of death and painful suffering. He longed to free that side of him, but first, the delicate art of manipulation.)

"N-No, never, I could never lie to you." There was a desperation painting his words, controlling his posture and shining through his eyes that Alfred loved to see. He was lucky to have been banished with such an interesting and fun plaything.

The more Ivan looked into Alfred's eyes, the calmer and foggier he became. "Good," Alfred cooed, leaning down to stare him more directly in the eyes. He watched, transfixed as he'd always been by Alfred's eyes, as the color bled into white until nothing but radiant blue showed. Then came a white slit, straight down the middle, and Ivan's world was no longer sunshine and daisies.

His world was pain, raw, unadulterated agony. He was proud about resisting any and all of Al's torture techniques, never giving in completely and never giving Al exactly what he wanted.

There was no other way to put it: he screamed. He yelled out in such agony he was sure his friends could hear it wherever(whenever)they where. But though he yelled and struggled and genuinely feared for his safety, Alfred didn't break eye contact and didn't let up, sharp nails pressing his shoulders to the ground. The pleased smile on his face indicated just how much he was enjoying Ivan's pain.

The two sides of him were waring, one in his command and the other being drawn out—against his will—by the Demon above him. The pain of fighting his own mind was becoming too much, the two sides tearing and grating against each other. Al wanted the Demon part of him front and center, and Ivan just wanted that part gone and buried. But like all things Al wanted, he'd get his wish. Shattering, his human conscious was pushed to the back as his Demon side was forced to the front.

Unfortunately for Al, he had some things to deal with: a certain annoying Angel that needed to be reminded just who he was dealing with. He'd have to find another time to torture Ivan. He felt the Demon come to the surface and intensified his gaze until Ivan's yells finally died down and they had matching eyes, Ivan's dark purple instead of blue. There, that was much better.

He patted Ivan's cheek, leaning down to nuzzle against his faithful servant. This Ivan he preferred undoubtedly over the soft, pathetic one. This one was worth his attention.

He stood up and held out a hand for Ivan, who grabbed it to pull himself up, but didn't let go. Instead, he tugged Al rather harshly to himself, indulging in the kisses just moments before he'd been so reluctant to give. Smiling as kissed turned to bites alone his neck, Al held up his left hand and admired the ring resting snugly on his ring finger. They thought they could fool him? Ivan thought he could go against him? Betray him?

He was going to rip his enemies to shreds, piece by piece until their intestines hung like streamers across the surrounding ruins, until their blood painted the ground red.

Looking around nervously, Alfred couldn't help but shiver. The desire to turn back was strong, and probably radiating off him just as strongly as well. The temple looked exactly like he knew it would. Though he hadn't had the nightmare recently, it was so ingrained in his mind he could mentally walk through it. At a time like this, when his reality was so easily overlapped by his nightmare, it was hard to keep himself in check and from flipping the fuck out, as he so wanted to. It probably wouldn't look good to have a mental breakdown at this time(later, when this was all over—and if he lived—he might consider that freak out).

He didn't want to gaze at the treasures adorning the walls, as no matter what he was sure he'd see dark stains and death. Instead he focused on the woman standing by a window. She had dirty blonde hair in a side braid, and a slender but powerful build. The large bow in her hair was an odd choice of accessory but suited her, as did what he was surprised to see were spectacles.

"Thank you for coming," Alison said to her, and the mysterious woman inclined her head slightly, slight smile coming to her face. From how stern she'd just looked, Alfred was positive this was one of the rare times upturned lips appeared on her face.

"It's my pleasure to assist you in any way possible."

Alison turned to them. "This is Chloe. She's the Divine I was telling you about. If anyone can help you, she can."

"It's very nice to meet you," Katyusha said, and Ivan and Alfred nodded in agreement. Chloe eyed them, her smile receding and taking all emotion with it. "You three have been touched by Somndus, the Realm of Sleep. And...two of you are Demons." No one denied her claims. "Interesting, I must say. None of us have yet been able to enter Somndus, as Demons flaunt full control over it. But it has properties that are, as of yet, unknown to us." She looked them over. "You three are from the future, correct?"

Once again Alfred looked down at his t-shirt and jeans, thinking they probably would have fit in better wearing bedsheets than modern clothes. "Uh, yeah, it's pretty obvious, isn't it?"

"I'm afraid so. I've never seen such strange apparel." Her and Alison both wore tunics, much like his in his nightmare. Maybe that's why he was wearing it—because it was the clothing of choice in Heaven.

A sudden chill swept through the temple. Alfred shivered again and glanced around, paranoid something was going to happen. It wasn't his fault, really; his nightmare was fucking terrifying. Why wouldn't he be nervous about entering the setting it took place? Still, he couldn't help but think, Why me?

The hand on his shoulder made him start, and when he turned to look at Ivan, he could see a mix of emotions, of which confusion and worry were the most prominent. Looking to his right, he could see a variety of expressions on the other three around him, confusion common between them all. Chloe, however, looked less confused than everyone else. She was staring intently at him, which unnerved him more.

"You are Alfred I presume? Alison told me it is you who requires assistance."

Alfred cleared his throat, his panic dying down as the chill started to disappear. "Yeah, that's me. So you're going to help me with me Dark Angel problem?"

"Dark Angel? Decantoris?" Chloe looked at Alison so fast Alfred's own neck hurt in sympathy. "You did not mention there would be a Betrayer involved."

"I'm sorry, but I know how you feel about them. They need help and you are the only one who can assist them in such a short period of time. I was afraid you wouldn't come if you knew what they were dealing with."

Chloe sighed and played with the end of her braid, the first normal indication of...anything, Alfred had seen from her. She was clearly lost in thought, gazing at them but seeing something else entirely.

"It's alright. I wouldn't turn my back on a friend," Chloe finally said, turning to Alison. "What's this about a time period?"

"They say they only have five human days to stay. Based on what Alfred needs to be able to do at the end of those days to defeat the Betrayer, I know it's going to be a lot of hard work with little rest." Alison shook her head. "I know this is a lot to ask but you're my only choice."

"As I said, it is fine. I do not mind making such a small sacrifice it if is for you." Chloe and Alison shared a look that made Alfred feel as if he and the Demon siblings were intruding on a private moment. He shuffled his feet and looked away.

But, as soon as they locked gazes, they both turned to him.

"Shall we move to the stadium? If we are to teach you, I advise we start immediately. Come," Chloe said, leading the way through the center archway. Just like in my dream, Alfred thought, wary and scared of what might happen. But this wasn't a time for fear. If he couldn't get over his fear, which he knew stemmed from dying just as much as losing his family, his chances at defeating Al were severely slimmed. Putting on a brave face and nodding his readiness to the silent siblings, he walked on, Ivan falling into step beside him with Katyusha close behind. Despite his resolution to deal with whatever was coming, he felt much better knowing Katyusha was behind him as a comforting presence.

The first hallway was okay, he could handle weapons and stone tablets with strange symbols. It took little effort to control his breathing, as natural curiosity made its way through him. He was in Heaven, which no longer existed—in this state—in his own time. This was a once in a life time opportunity, and he knew he'd beat himself up later for missing such an experience because he was having doubts and concerns about something clearly larger than him and his problems.

Only when he saw the shield did he start to think walking through the halls might be harder than first thought, because in his nightmare there were specific points that really kept him up at night. The shield, discovering the ring, the—oh God, the bodies—Al ripping his heart out.

As if on impulse, he glanced at his reflection as he walked by. He would never know if the image was a trick of the light and his overactive, freaked out imagination, or the actual image from his nightmare, but either way he only got a glimpse of his nightmare self—torn, dirt caked tunic, dark eyes and all—before he blinked and it was gone. Unsettled but still functional, he continued on with barely a break to his steps.

They approached the first room, and Alfred dreaded what he'd see. Would the bodies be there? What would he do? He really didn't want them to be there, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad. He couldn't even make out any features, and with how often he'd been subject to the nightmare, he'd seen it plenty of times for there to be no surprises.

Although, surprised he was when he walked through the arch to see the empty room. In his nightmare the walls had been covered, but he could see now there were detailed sketchings of various landscapes and people. The floor was a pristine white, and their steps echoed as they shuffled through the room.

Amazed that such a devastating part of his nightmare didn't transition over, he perked up, optimistic that maybe this wouldn't be so hard. He'd had enough hard times recently, he felt it was due time for him to have a break. The reflection earlier had to have been his imagination.

Past the first room, past the second hallway—which wasn't covered in slime and held more weapons and scrolls—came the second room. The bodies probably(hopefully)wouldn't be there, but still...he knew when this was all over he'd never be able to forget what his family looked like dead. Just thinking it made his heart hurt and now that he knew who was the cause, his anger rise. Al was the one behind everything, Al had ruined his life, but what Al didn't know is that he'd supplied Alfred and his family the opportunity to unite, and become stronger because of their common foe. Alfred was going to defeat Al using the strength his family gave him.

He did hesitate outside a few steps away from the archway. Alison and Chloe, who were already in the room, paused and turned to watch him, questioning looks on both their faces.

Katyusha came up to his side, opposite her brother, and together they put a hand on each of his shoulders. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and whispered, "Thank you," before entering the room.

The room was colder than the others, cutting to his bone and igniting his nerves. Images of the dead bodies flickered to and from this reality, but beyond that nothing happened. Relieved but keeping his eyes on the ceiling, he quickly walked past Alison and Chloe, who continued staring at him, to the other side of the room and out the archway.

Once out of the room, a hand on his shoulder caught his attention. Expecting Ivan and coming up with a quick excuse, it died on his lips when he turned and, to his surprise, saw Alison had been the one to stop him. Her touch was warm and something in him reached out to her, but it wasn't strong enough to come to fruition.

"Is everything alright?" She asked, kind and sincere. Alfred couldn't lie to her.

"I'm...I don't know. I used to have this nightmare, guess it scared me pretty badly 'cause I'm seeing things from it."

Chloe came to stand beside Alison, looking imposing and like she'd really wished he'd told her this earlier. "Pestus," he heard, and Alison nodded her head in agreement. "The signs are strong," she added.

"What?" Alfred asked, and maybe if times weren't so trying at the moment he'd be blown away because he's only now starting to realize that they speak another language—a language he was born to never know.

"Cursed sleep," Chloe explained, looking him over. He felt self-conscious somewhat, because they didn't have the foresight to freshen up. His clothes were wrinkled and he's tired, as it's most likely midnight where his body is. He thinked. It might be, but he wasn't too sure about the whole time difference thing.

"What do you experience in such a state?" He blinked, uncomprehending as the odd words started sinking in until he grasped their meaning.

"In the nightmare?" He had the intense urge to rub his neck, or fidget, or maybe lay down because why can't everything be a dream? But he stayed put and answered as best he could. The nightmare might have been lingering but that didn't mean it was welcome. "I walk through this temple. At first I'm running from shadows, but once I enter the temple I see the bodies of my family and friends. At the very end Al rips my heart out. There's black sludge everywhere too, if that matters."

Chloe's eyes had narrowed before the end of his little recount. "And who is this 'Al'?"

Shit. He looked to Katyusha, because they were going to keep as much a secret as possible. She gave him sympathy in return but didn't bail him out. Ivan was no help either, shrugging his shoulders as if to say, You got yourself into this situation, you explain it.

"Uh, Al's...the Dark Angel. That's his name."

"I see." Chloe watched him, blue eyes intense and penetrating. She probably had a whole assortment of abilities that let her cut right through the crap he'd just tried to give them to see the truth. But if she found more than he'd be willing to give she didn't call him on it. "If you allow me, I can perhaps supply you with the means to not experience that which unnerves you so."

Before he could even come up with a response, Katyusha finally intervened. "I'm sorry," and she looked sorry, "But, Alfred, remember the potion? We're tied together. I'm afraid anything she might give you will include Heaven's own energy, and being Demons, we will be injured, and in turn, so will you. I want to help you but I think we should avoid that."

"It's okay Katyusha; I can handle it." Well, he wasn't too sure he could. Getting one's heart ripped out was pretty intense, and painful. It might have been a dream, but it felt real.

He looked around and saw they were standing before two archways. This was were he saw Vanya looking at him sadly, and now that he knew the whole situation between Al and Vanya, he couldn't help but feel exponentially sorry for the poor half-Demon. But there was a strength there too, in his being that it seemed only Al could bring out of him. By hurting his friends and loved ones, Al was giving him everything he need to properly motivate himself into action.

The archways were clear, and he almost wanted to take the right one. But Alison and Chloe moved towards the left, and honestly he was leaning more towards the left because that's how he went in his nightmare, but just the face that the right archway was clear made him curious. He stomped it down and followed.

They passed the curved path with no trouble. The wall didn't cut away and ha didn't feel as if Vanya was watching him from the other hallway. All for the best, because he didn't want to see Vanya—any version of Ivan—like that ever again.

Once clear of the path, the next room was a complete surprise to Alfred. In his dream it'd been covered in sludge so thoroughly nothing could be seen past it.

It was like a trophy room. Trophies of all shapes and sizes lined the walls: belts, medallions, cups, even some weapons and the occasional article of clothing. Anything that could be won or lost was up for display.

"What is this room," he couldn't help but ask.

Alison answered, her tone implying she didn't particularly favor the room. "It is a place for victor's to display their prizes. We hold tournaments and battles in the stadium, and the winners get the right to put their winnings on the wall so others will know of their strength."

It made sense, but he was getting a high school-ish vibe from the description. More like a contest of who could win the most competitions, like one's worth was only summed up by their victories.

"Let us move on though, we should not waste our time, especially in rooms such as this," Alison said stiffly, spinning around and marching through the nearest archway.

Alfred caught himself smiling, and once that realization sank in he also felt a bit of fondness over Alison's actions. She reminded him of someone, but nobody immediately came to mind. He glanced over at Ivan and Katyusha, and recalled what they'd told him earlier, about her being his mother. But that couldn't be, right? It was too perfect, too story book, and yeah, so he always liked a happy ending, but this was real life. Stuff like this just didn't happen. Then again, neither did Demons, Angels, and magic, yet here they all were.

Shaking his head to dispel his thoughts, he followed after Chloe as she walked through the archway, Ivan and Katyusha close behind.

The room was large, larger than he might have expected. He should have known though, because duh, stadium. The stadium room consisted of one large flat slab of rock in the middle of the room, and on either side seats carved out of the walls. They ran like bleachers around the stadium, with one large throne-like seat on the opposite side of the archway they'd just passed through. Not as big as, say, a football field, but large enough that he could see several people being able to compete at one time.

His heart thundered in his chest, his palms were slick with sweat, and his eyes wouldn't stop scouting the room for potential danger. Any second now-

Intense, sudden pain seized him, and for a moment he wished death upon himself for surely that would be better than this, but it ceased after only a few seconds. Still, he found himself breathing heavily, skin feeling too stretched around his bones, and heart trying to beat out of his chest. The only explanation was that he'd just experience a shadow of getting his heart ripped out. Or he'd had a heart attack, which wouldn't surprise him with all the stress he was feeling.

He kind of wished it had been a heart attack. He was due for some normalcy by now.

Chloe walked passed them, to the stairs heading up to the large slab in the middle of the room. He turned to look at the Demons and Alison, who caught Ivan and Katyusha's eyes before nodding to one side. Looking back at Alfred, she gestured for him to follow Chloe, offering a small smile as well.

Ivan and Katyusha follow Alison to the side, where they took a seat. Spinning around, Alfred walked determinedly to the stairs, bounding up them without a second thought. Too late to turn back, he told himself, The only way to go now is forward.

Al was tempted to stick around and watch the Angel. Having arrived at the temple just as Alfred had, it had taken a lot of willpower to not totally fuck with Alfred's head. After all, this was his realm. He was the most powerful Demon around, he controlled the realm with ease, and if he so chose he could have destroyed Alfred and his guard dogs. But what fun would that have been? He wanted to see how far Alfred would go in his fantasy world where he actually thought he had a chance. Al still chuckled when he thought about how foolish the Angel was being.

He shadowed Alfred through the temple, calling up certain moments from his creation. He was pleased to see the little shifts in Alfred's body that signified a reaction. The fear rolling off him in waves felt absolutely wonderful.

But, he was a busy man. He had places to be, people to terrorize. But he looked forward to facing Alfred in battle, and even more so, anticipated crushing Alfred's spirit.

Slinking into the shadows, unnoticed by those present, he faded away to his next destination.

She didn't know what woke her. One moment she was floating through a gray haze, in between dreams, when something brought her out of sleep. Staring at the ceiling, she stilled, remembered her parent's training and took deep, calming breaths. Her whole body froze as she listened for what could have awoken her, but the only sound she heard was the clock ticking on the wall.

Finally glancing around the room, she saw nothing out of the ordinary. Shrugging, she rolled over to her side, facing the room, and sighed, closing her eyes to go back to sleep.

Just as she was about to slip into unconsciousness, something brought her back to herself for the second time. Furrowing her brows, she opened her eyes.

Nothing.

Everything was where it should be, so what kept her up? Frustrated, she closed her eyes and snuggled down, only to be pulled from the brink once again.

Huffing, she flipped onto her back. The house settled, and she tensed instinctively.

Once the creaks and pops stopped, she closed her eyes but didn't actively try to go to sleep. Instead she thought about all that had happened, and about her charge, who slept in the room next to hers. She loved him dearly, and worried over his—everyone's, really—safety. She knew she'd die for him but she didn't want to leave him.

A sudden knock made her jump, so intently was she lost in her thoughts. Blinking, she threw the covers off and trudged up to the door, stretching on the way there.

Cracking the door open, she peaked through. The hallway was dimly lit, but she could easily make out Alfred's profile. Smiling and opening the door wider, she whispered, "Alfred," acknowledging him while being mindful to her sleeping neighbor.

"Hey Bella," he said lowly, rubbing the back of his head. It was a gesture she knew he did when he was nervous, and probably subconsciously too. "Can I come in?"

"Of course," she said, like he was crazy to think otherwise. He stepped into the room, and she closed the door behind him.

Alfred stood, choosing to do so even when Bella offered him a seat at the desk. She herself sat on her bed, still tired(but probably unable to fall asleep).

"What's on your mind?" Poor Alfred, having to go through all this. Him and his family must be so stressed out and nervous. As Lovino loved informing them, there was a very real possibility that every one of them could—and probably would—end up dying.

"I was wondering if Lovino has seen anything. About our futures, I mean. Anything different or unusual?" His question stroke her as oddly timed. Couldn't he wait until morning and just ask Lovino himself? Maybe he'd been having trouble sleeping as well and needed this knowledge in order to ease his mind enough to let him sleep. And coming to her only made sense, because Lovino would not be happy at all to be woken up at this hour. Still, she felt like something was off.

"As far as I know, nothing's changed in the last couple of days. The visions all tell Lovino that some—if not all—of us die." She shrugged. "But the future's subject to change. It's not set in stone or anything. Lovino could see all of us die one moment and see us triumph the next."

Alfred stared at the ground, seemingly taking in her words until he nodded to himself. "I see. Good."

Good? "Alfred, are you alright?" She asked, slowly because was the room getting darker? Was it always this cold?

"I'm glad everything is how it should be. Tell me, what would you do for Lovino?"

Her mouth wouldn't work right, but her mind supplied the answer, indifferent to whether or not Alfred(not-Alfred, whoever this imposter was)could hear it.

Anything. I would die for him.

"It's your lucky day then."

As her vision faded to black, she caught sight of dark wings and cold eyes before she was dragged under.

With a gasp and start, Lovino sat up. Panting, he scrambled out of bed, cursing loudly when the sheet kept him trapped in its warm embrace. Hitting the floor after clawing to the side of the bed, Lovino kicked the offending sheet away before staggering to his feet. Panicked, he rushed out his door to Bella's, entering without bothering to knock.

It was empty.

"Goddammit! Fuck!" He hissed, shakingly lowering himself to the carpet. He wanted to be angry but every time it rose to the surface it was beat back by a pervading sadness, a deeply routed devastation that swept through his body until he felt hollow.

Bella was gone. Taken by that fucker to her death. To all their deaths.

He slapped his hands to his face, rubbing them up and down roughly to wake himself up and push down the emotions threatening to overtake him. While he really wanted to curl up on the carpet and die, he instead picked himself up, hazel eyes burning with his barely contained fury and poorly suppressed tears.

Marching out of Bella's room, he made his way to the library, the place he knew Arthur and Francis to be. Focusing on the visions was impossible in his current state, but he managed to learn that both of them were awake and that was enough for him.

People were probably asleep but since he'd wake them up in a bit anyway he made no move to quiet himself as he stormed through the house. Crossing the library's threshold, he hurried over to Arthur and Francis, who stood upon seeing him.

"Lovino...?" Francis got out before Lovino threw himself at him. Arms full of shaking Italian, Francis looked to Arthur for help. Equally shocked and at a loss, Arthur shrugged and motioned for him to do something. Parental instincts kicking in, Francis return the hug and rubbed Lovino's back soothingly.

"Lovino, my friend, what's wrong?"

Shaking his head, Lovino pressed one hand to Francis's shoulder and reached the other out to touch Arthur's arm. As soon as he made contact with both men, he showed them as much of the vision he'd dreamt as he could.

Darkness all around, shadows in every corner, closing in. Bella, tossing and turning on her bed before giving up. Alfred, but not Alfred, darker and heartless, stealing her away and leaving a challenge behind, a clear message to come and get her.

The images started repeating themselves, becoming more and more disjointed as Lovino lost his control on them. Separating from the link, he sagged in Francis's grip. Worried and confused, Arthur and Francis helped Lovino to the couch. He sat slumped and immediately lowered his head.

Arthur and Francis looked at each other, debating silently before it was decided Francis, who Lovino had thrown himself at, should talk to the man.

Pausing to collect his thoughts after that invasive display of images he as trying to sort out, Francis again placed a hand on Lovino's back. Matthew always liked having his back rubbed, Francis remembered fondly.

"Lovino, what happened. I'm afraid your visions were too...unstable, for us to understand."

At first he thought Lovino wasn't going to acknowledge him there, and he looked back to Arthur for help. But Lovino spoke, turning their attention back to him.

"I'm sorry, for doing that to you while like this. But...Bella's gone. Al has her."

Sucking in a breath, Francis sat down next to Lovino and let his hand fall away. Arthur sighed deeply and started pacing about the library.

No one spoke, allowing Lovino a moment of silence for Bella before Arthur felt the need to sort out this whole mess.

"Lovino," Arthur said, pausing when the seer's oddly blank gaze rose to meet his eyes. Seeing Lovino like this was horrible, and unsettling to an extreme degree. Lovino was a very expressive individual(even if he usually only expressed annoyance and irritation), and seeing him like this only solidified into reality that Al was one cruel sonuvabitch determined to destroy their lives.

Struggling for words, he could think of nothing save ask the seer for advice. Arthur may have been older, but Lovino was more knowledgeable than he'd ever be. It came with being able to see the past and the future. "What can we do?" Belatedly he thought maybe the others should be here to hear this.

Lovino closed his eyes and concentrated on his visions, pushing useless images to the side while sorting through the important ones. He didn't like what he saw(them dead more times than them alive), but one particular image caught his attention. Grasping for the fragile vision, he focuses wholly on it and it alone.

In this future they'd won. Alfred stood, wounded but strong, and victorious. Ivan was alive, Katyusha was alive, Arthur and Francis and Matthew were alive, he was even alive. Bella...

Lovino forced down the nausea at seeing that Bella hadn't made it, lying still in his own arms. He ignored that part, blacking it out as unimportant while he tried to make sense of the events leading to this future. Going backwards, his confusion grew more and more until he actually had to track into the past, but only by about an hour or so.

Opening his eyes, he saw Arthur and Francis both staring at him. And much closer than he'd prefer. Annoyance quickly made its course through him as he ground out, "What are you two looking at?"(Maybe with a bit more hostility than needed.)

"Well, uh..." "Are you sure...?" They both started, but halted once Lovino raised a hand. He stood up, and the other two did as well. "Follow me," he said, and trusted them to do as told.

He made his way through the house, checking in the rooms he knew would be empty just to confirm what he already knew. Making a sound in his throat after checking Katyusha's room, he lead the confused couple to a seemingly random spot on the third floor.

After staring at the ceiling for a few minutes, during which Arthur and Francis feared for Lovino's sanity, Lovino abruptly turned to Francis. "Go and wake Matthew."

Francis, beyond trying to figure out what the hell was happening in Lovino's head, just nodded and went to fetch his son. Arthur and Lovino were then left in a strange silence.

"Ah, Lovino—" But Arthur cut himself off simply because he had no idea which way to start a conversation. He was slightly worried for Lovino's mental state. Nevertheless he continued, somewhat hesitantly. "Perhaps you could explain your plan? And why we're up here?"

Turning to look at Arthur with an unusually calm countenance, Lovino explained as much as he was willing to Arthur without Francis and Matthew. "We're waiting."

So helpful, and cheery, Arthur thought crossing his arms and biting his cheek. No shit they were waiting. But for what, other than the wolves because there had to be something else going on.

"Cut the crap Lovino. Why are we here and where are Alfred, Ivan, and Katyusha?" He'd been surprised and worried when both rooms had turned out empty, because Bella had just been kidnapped so what about Alfred? Where was he? And most importantly, was he safe?

Narrowing his eyes did not provoke Lovino into spilling what he knew, so tapping his foot and cursing up a storm in his mind, he waited.

Francis and a groggy Matthew arrived moments later. Lovino wasted no time with pleasantries, instead commanding, "Change."

Francis, once again not bothering to ask questions, started taking off his shirt, a confused but complacent Matthew following. But Arthur would not stand by without some answers.

"Now hold on a damn moment! What the hell is going on!"

Lovino, for his credit, didn't get overly angry like was his custom. Instead he leveled a calm gaze at a frustrated Arthur and finally explained.

"Alfred, Ivan, and Katyusha are in the attic."

Arthur waited for Lovino to continue, because great, they were in the attic, but why not just call to them?

"And?" Arthur prompted through grinding teeth.

"We need to be there."

Lovino was probably getting some sort of sick joy watching Arthur struggle not to explode into a tirade. Matthew eyed Arthur and, out of sympathy, turned Lovino's attention to himself.

"Why? I mean, why are they up there? And can't we just...use the latter or something?" To Arthur infinite frustration and ire, Lovino's explanation was much more detailed.

"There is no latter to this attic. Katyusha has designed it in such a way that only her or her siblings may enter. It accepts their energy and no other. Lucky for us, however, it doesn't care much for physical force." He looked pointedly at the wolves. "I need you to change forms, and tear through the ceiling so we may wait for them to wake up." Turning to Arthur he said, "I will explain fully once we're there."

Father and son looked at each other, then shrugged, continuing out of their clothes. Once fully undressed they changed, until two furry, large wolves stood in the middle of the hallway, looking ridiculously out of place. Unable to communicate without Alfred, they simply looked to Lovino, who nodded. A sign to start.

Despite himself, Arthur was always interested in not only seeing them in this state, but also how they acted around each other. They looked around the room instead of going right at the ceiling like he'd been expecting. But maybe because it was awkward for them. On their feet and upright they could only barely reach the low ceiling. It would probably be hard for them to claw at something just in their reach. As if in agreement, Lovino slapped his arm, pointing to the floor and mimicking a wand waving around. "Raise the floor to help them."

Arthur summoned not a wand but his staff. Concentrating on the floor he poured magic into the trusted wood until it glowed with an unnatural force of energy. Raising the staff slightly, he brought it down harshly to the floor.

Both wolves back away while the floor stretched up somewhat. Not enough to prevent movement(the wolves were rather large)but enough so they could use their mouths if they wished. Returning his staff, he watched as the wolves went to work.

Some minutes passed, but eventually they got a sizable hole through the ceiling. Satisfied, Lovino announced they were finished, and that they could change back now. Waiting for them to complete the change back and put their clothes back on, Lovino moved directly under the hole, beckoning the other three closer.

"Arthur," he instructed, "Give me a boost."

Grumbling about not being as strong as the wolves so why did he have to assist, he crouched down and interlocked his fingers for Lovino's foot. Once situated, he gave a mighty heave upward. Lovino grabbed onto the edge and hoisted himself up. Francis did the same for Arthur, but then jumped and grabbed onto the edge himself. Matthew followed in the same pattern.

The room was dusty, old and unused. There were no lights, so Arthur summoned his staff again and immediately filled the room with a soft glow. To their left sat a line of cots, and on three rested Katyusha, Alfred, and Ivan.

Arthur stepped forward to get closer to his son, but Lovino held him back with an arm across his chest. Glaring, he stopped and waited for that explanation Lovino promised.

"You may get closer, but you must not touch them, under any circumstance. Doing so will insure our defeat. Remember that you didn't even know they were up here, and so everything you might see should run its course, without interference."

It was hard being told to not touch his boy, but for Alfred's sake he would listen. Lovino dropped his arm and Arthur walked over to Alfred, observing him since there was little else he could do.

Back before houses were as big as they were now, Arthur would always find small shacks where he and Alfred could rest while on their travels. A long, long time ago, when people wandered the land on foot and life was much simpler, he and Alfred wouldn't have a choice but to share a bed. Alfred, who had been just a kid, never really complained. At night, sleeping sounding, Arthur would stay awake and just watch his son—his son—sleep. And never mind that Alfred wasn't related to him by blood; they were family in all the ways that mattered.

Seeing Alfred now, face slack and peaceful, Arthur had the strong urge to run his hand through Alfred's hair. But he couldn't, and it almost physically hurt.

The sound of metal grating against wood filled the room with a terrible whine as Matthew and Francis tugged an unoccupied cot to rest in front of Alfred's cot. Sitting heavily on it, he allowed them to sit close to him, offering him the familial comfort Alfred couldn't.

Lovino started without prompt. "They're dreaming. Or more specifically, Alfred's dreaming and the Demons are along for the ride. He's gone through with his plan."

Arthur shook his head and lowered his gaze. He should have been angry, but after Yao's visit and the realization of what he'd done to Alfred, there was no place for anger now. Instead he felt guilt, and sadness, and hope only that Alfred didn't hate him.

"Bella's—" Lovino curled his hands into fists, piercing into his palm with his nails. Remembering what had just recently happened still ached, and it took a lot not to break down. As it was he was repressing a lot of his personal feelings to get things done, as he did every once in a while when life chose to slap him across the face. "Bella's capture hasn't changed the future much. If anything I'd say she's now the reason we'll be going to the forgotten realm. As you could most likely imagine, once we all meet in one place the battle will start. I can't see into the realm itself, but Alfred's future is powerful enough to allow me glimpses."

"Do you...Do you know what happens?" Matthew asked. Seeing his brother lying there, it wasn't hard to imagine him dead. His family was everything, and he and Alfred were such good brothers now. If he died—if any of them died—Matthew knew he'd wished for the same. As they all knew, there was a possibility they could all die. They knew that and accepted it, joining with Alfred to defeat Al. But knowing it could happen and experiencing it were two different things, one a lot easier to handle than the other.

"Not with as much confidence as I'd like." And some of the normal Lovino, the one they were used to seeing returned, frustration seeping into his words. "I may be a seer but the future is not always written out permanently. And with cases like this, I could see the wrong future until the very last possible moment." Lovino looked down and away, so Matthew guessed that he'd probably lived through that once, and didn't recommend it.

"So what can we do?" Francis asked, pressing into Arthur's side. The man was quiet, head bowed but Francis knew he was staring at Alfred.

Lovino shrugged. "We can wait."

Breathing heavily, Alfred brought his arms up to block the kick aimed for his head. Pushing the appendage away he swung out a hand to catch Chloe off guard but she was quick, spinning and deflecting the blow so he staggered. Following with another well-aimed kick, this one charged with the least amount needed to make it count, contact was made as she forced him to the ground. Again.

"Fight like you mean to win!" She commanded, no longer pausing to let him center himself again. Cursing, Alfred blocked with his bruising arms and rolled away, getting back onto his feet with the momentum. The ache in his side hurt, as did the bruise on his face and multiple other spots. Chloe was brutal in her approach.

As a way to gauge his fighting ability she'd demanded they fight. He was against the idea, not because he thought she'd be easy to beat but because was it really necessary?

He also felt bad because everything he experience was sent to Ivan and Katyusha, but for all that was worth they didn't appear bothered. He could see the matching bruises, but they both smiled when he looked over(which he didn't do often since Chloe didn't like him switching focus like that). Still, he felt bad.

"Use everything you can, do not hold back!" Her voice was severe, commanding and demanding respect. He'd be foolish to disobey, and he knew he was suppose to give it his all, but it was hard when he wasn't a fighter at heart.

Still, the air was charged with the energy she used in her attacks, and it was obvious to him she wanted him to do the same. He'd trained with Arthur about implementing magic into a fight, knew how to use his abilities to fight for him. He could see the opportunities where a nicely timed punch or kick could bring down Chloe's defenses, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

Chloe came at him again, using every trick she knew to test his ability and knowledge. It was disappointing that he didn't use his energy to fight her, as she'd expected more.

He dodged punches, deflecting when he could or otherwise absorbing the blow with his forearms. He did fight back though, minimal and pointless as it might have been. She dodged and deflected easily, practically pushing his arms aside to deliver punishing blows to his upper body.

Gritting his teeth through the poorly blocked onslaught, he felt something in him shift. Suddenly angry that he couldn't even block correctly, he instead grabbed her leg when it came up to kick him and swung her off balance, using her leg to throw her away from him. She reacted quickly, rolling upright as soon as she hit the ground, like she'd not just been thrown off him.

He let energy gather in his hands, a sign clearly reading any hits he'd get in were to be painful, but she smiled, and moved into a defensive stance.

He charged her this time, hands making offensive blows instead of defensive blockades. The energy in the room tingled along his skin, making it burn with the drive to do something. And it felt so natural, like he belonged soaked in it and had been living his life in a desert, and now Heaven was accepting his as its own and drenching him in natural, pure energy to draw strength from.

She was skilled but he was strong, using brute force to force his way past her defenses. Open, he took the chance and landed a solid right hook.

He blinked rapidly, the heat in him cooling down under a layer of ice as he froze, fist still posed. He'd hit her, and it felt both wrong and so good at the same time.

She'd staggered back, but when she looked up her lip was split and she was smiling.

"Again."

This was the start of Day 1.