Dr. N. Tropy stepped out of his portal, winding up in the same clearing with the crystal pool as he'd been taken from. Much to his surprise, the Bandicoots and the N-Team were all there, as well as Azraphael. Sahl'resh was nowhere to be found. Everyone but the Angel looked at him in shock and disbelief. He locked eyes with them; they were taking the form of the young woman with jet black hair and emerald eyes, and he was delighted – no, overjoyed – to find that he didn't feel a thing beyond hate and murderous intent when staring them down. He waved his tuning fork, sealing the portal behind him, and sneered maliciously at the entire group. He figured he'd come back and kill off the rest of them once his work with the Prophet was done, to tie up loose ends, if nothing else. Letting out a dark chuckle, he began to pace back and forth, keeping his eyes locked onto Azraphael's. They looked him up and down, their gaze sharpening with each passing moment.
"I've learned a good deal since last we met!" Nefarious moved to smooth his hair, but found his helmet in his way – it was just as well, since he'd always preferred wearing it. He took a moment to admire his own strength; what a relief it was to be unhindered again, to be pain-free again! A deep chuckle resounded in his chest, giving way to a maniacal laugh.
"What the fuck did you do?" Azraphael stepped forward, shielding the others behind them. Their voice was hard, if not frigid. "Answer me!"
"Oh, it's not a question of what I've done, but what you have, you infernal beast!" Nefarious' smile faltered, and his face grew grave. "You have quite a bit to answer for, wouldn't you say? No, no! Don't speak. I'm rather sick of your lies and deceptions!" He tapped into the power of his armor, and began to hover a few inches off the ground. He'd not felt so alive, so in-control, since before his last defeat at the hands of the bandicoots. "I'll tell you what I've done…I've freed myself from your grasp! I've regained my sovereignty! I- "
"Sovereignty?!" Azraphael barked at him, cutting him off, and advanced another step. They held their right arm behind them, silently telling the group to stay back. They remained still, some of them holding on to one another, watching the exchange between the Doctor and the Angel in awe, and fear. Nefarious backed up a few inches, then thought better of it, and advanced a foot. He refused to show them any weakness ever again. "You think that trusting Satan gives you sovereignty?!"
"More than trusting you!" He snarled, baring his teeth. He was beginning to see red. "You've brought me the most grief and misery…I waited for you! I searched for you! I trusted you! And what do I have to show for it?! Nothing! Nothing but a constant, nagging reminder of how false you truly are!"
"Simon, please, listen to me!" The Angel pleaded with him, beginning to close the distance between them. Their face was torn between anger, sadness, and desperation.
"NEVER CALL ME THAT AGAIN!" In a surge of rage, Nefarious whipped his tuning fork around, and slammed the tongs into the earth. A fissure opened up, and Azraphael had to jump aside to avoid falling in. The crack ended just before reaching the N-Team and the bandicoots. Azraphael glanced over their shoulder at them, then turned back to face Nefarious with a hard glare. "I'm done listening to you! I'm done accepting your lies! And I'm done with allowing you to write my future as you see fit!" In an instant, a look of horrific realization dawned on Azraphael's face, and Nefarious cackled with glee. He relished their shock, using it to fuel the fire of his decision. "Oh, yes! I know all about this supposed 'Prophet!' And I'm going to have such a wonderful time destroying them!"
"You have no idea what you're doing." Much to the Doctor's surprise, Azraphael responded with perfect calmness at his declaration. "Don't try it…you'll regret it."
"What I regret, is ever allowing you to haunt me for millennia!" He moved another foot forward, and Azraphael inched back, still shielding the group of onlookers. "The first thing I'm going to do, is prevent us from ever meeting."
"Don't do this!" Azraphael's voice began to distort; their teeth started turning sharp, and their eyes were taking on that hollow vacancy. For the briefest moment, Nefarious was afraid of them, but his fear was pushed back by a new certainty that further ignited his fury: they were perfectly willing and able to harm him. What kind of "Love" would allow it? None, in his mind. More than ever, he was convinced that his life had been spent in vain. When all was said and done, he was going to enjoy his freedom. However, he had to consider the Angel's potential; they'd never shown him exactly what they were capable of, and he had to proceed with caution.
"Enough!" He snapped, swinging his tuning fork out behind him. A portal opened up, and he began edging backwards. "I'm ending this, once and for all!" Azraphael lunged at him, but he vanished through the portal at the last second. The familiar sensation of gliding along the passages of Time was exhilarating. He weaved between the threads of the Multiverse, laughing gleefully, almost like a child playing with their favorite toy. A clawed hand snatched his coat, tearing it, and he looked over his shoulder. Azraphael was right behind him, half-transformed into a menacing creature. Nefarious pushed for speed, putting a little distance between himself and the Angel. On impulse, he shot himself into a timeline that was far-removed from the one he was aiming for. The Prophet could wait – he had to keep Azraphael busy long enough to give them the slip.
A bright and vibrant city loomed on the horizon of this new Universe, approaching rapidly as Nefarious sped towards it. He could practically feel the Angel on his heels, and swooped down between skyscrapers as he entered the city limits. Holding out his weapon, he created a sonic boom, which shattered glass and broke down the very foundations of the buildings near him. Never before had he known such acute power – he craved more. Azraphael's scream of distress made him laugh. He looked over his shoulder at them; they were scrambling to assist the people in the most immediate danger, and the Doctor used the opportunity to escape into another rift. He chuckled to himself, glancing at the crackling blue orb over his left gauntlet. Without stopping in his flight, he input the coordinates the Devil had given him. Just as he was about to fly off in the direction of his target, the Angel let out the most terrifying, unholy shriek he'd ever heard, and his blood ran cold. Once more, they were hot on his trail. One look at them told all: they were pissed. The energy radiating from them was hot enough to nearly sear the Doctor's skin. Azraphael had fully transformed into that strange creature with a spine-crowned head, and bioluminescent markings.
Nefarious, having to stop himself from panicking, took another detour, this time winding up near a hydroelectric dam. On any other occasion, he would have stopped to appreciate the breathtaking view of the mountains and forests around it, but his gaze fell upon a small town instead. It sat within a mile from the dam, quiet and peaceful, and completely unaware of the peril it was in. A malicious smirk touched his lips. He rocketed off towards the outer wall of the dam, and slammed his tuning fork into it as hard as he could. Satan had clearly done something to enhance his equipment. The stone wall caved in, and a massive spiderweb of cracks sprawled out from the crater. Water began spilling rapidly, forcing its way through the damaged barrier, and widening the already-critical wound in the dam. Nefarious hardly had enough time to move out of the way before the wall outright burst, sending a violent torrent to decimate the defenseless town. He decided to take a moment to enjoy his handiwork and watch the carnage, but his smug grin vanished entirely when he saw Azraphael. They had positioned themself over the sandbar by the town docks. The water stopped mid-flight; Azraphael held up both hands, and ground their teeth, exerting as much energy as they could muster to trap the flood in a forcefield.
"WHY WON'T YOU JUST QUIT?!" Outraged, and without thinking it through, Nefarious bounded towards the Angel, completely intent on destroying their focus and letting the flood claim them, and the town. He readied his weapon, gaining momentum as he closed the distance between them, but was shocked to find himself pulled into the turbulence of the water and dam fragments. He was trapped in Azraphael's forcefield, and narrowly avoided having his head crushed by a free-floating chunk of stone. Looking at the Angel's face, he could tell they wouldn't be able to hold it much longer, so he jumped ship, falling back into the space between Universes. Convinced that Azraphael would be tied up long enough for him to complete his task, he wasted no more time in reaching his destination. Once more, he input the coordinates, and fell through a portal into a most peculiar setting.
He staggered, the rift closing behind him, and found himself in a large, loud room with a few tables, a fridge, and an industrial smokehouse. The concrete floor was slick with what appeared to be bacon grease, and the walls surrounding him had a brownish tint which suggested the everyday use of the smokehouse. On one side of the room, there was a lone figure, sharpening a knife on a stone. Nefarious recognized the knife to be the very same one Azraphael had used to skin the boar, and knew that he'd found his target. The Prophet wore earbuds, and was bouncing slightly to the rhythm of whatever they were listening to. Their jeans were worn and stained with fresh gore, as was their white apron. Once satisfied with the sharpness of their blade, they turned around to head back to work, and stopped dead upon seeing the Doctor. In their shock, they dropped their knife; it skittered across the floor, stopping at Nefarious' feet. He bent over and picked it up, taking a moment to admire their skill – it would be the perfect tool for cutting open their throat.
"I knew it…" The Prophet muttered, pulling their earbuds out, and edged closer to him. He was taken completely by surprise; they were utterly lovestruck, and looked at him with total adoration. Their smile lit up their whole face, and the corners of their eyes glistened with tears. "I knew it! I always knew you were out there!"
"Silence!" Nefarious attempted to shake off his confusion. He brandished the knife, taking a threatening step forward. "I've come to put an end to your meddling, Prophet!" He was met with a bewildered look from them, which only served to fuel his rage. "Don't play coy! I know you've been writing my Fate, toying with powers that are too far beyond your meager ability to comprehend!"
"Hey, now…I'm not a writer, I'm a butcher." The Prophet shook their head, placing a hand on their hip. The way they looked at Nefarious was positively infuriating – how could they be so enamored? Shouldn't they be scared out of their wits? They spoke to him so casually, they either knew what was about to happen, or they were foolish enough to not fear Death when it was staring them in the face. "Sounds to me like you got the wrong Universe."
"That's exactly what I was about to say." Azraphael's voice thundered from behind Nefarious, and both he and the butcher jumped. Nefarious dropped the knife, spun around, and began backing away from the furious Angel. They were completely soaked, and their upper lip trembled in their effort to bite back their rage. "You were given false coordinates." Their head snapped in the direction of the butcher, and they gave them a curt nod. "Get out of here. Now." They stopped only to collect their knife, but while making a break for the door, Nefarious grabbed them, snatching their blade away. He pressed the edge against their throat, eliciting a small whine of terror from them. Finally, a reaction that made sense!
"This ends here, Azraphael!" Nefarious shouted, locking his gaze on the Angel. They let out a long, shuddering hiss, clenching and unclenching their fists.
"Didn't you hear me, jackass?! YOU. HAVE. THE. WRONG. PERSON!" In a split-second decision, desperate to get the Angel away from him, Nefarious dragged the knife across the butcher's throat. Azraphael howled in a mixture of pain, grief, and pure, unadulterated rage. Their hand flew to their own throat, closing around it, and they breathed heavily.
"FREE AT LAST!" Nefarious cackled, letting the corpse fall to his feet. The butcher hadn't even had time to register what was happening, their face was frozen in shock. "Now, begone, foul creature!" The Doctor waited, but with each uneventful second passing by, he became increasingly aware of his folly. He watched in horror as Azraphael straightened out, releasing their throat, and cracking their neck. They fixed their invisible gaze on him, boring into his Soul, silently telling him he fucked up bad. "N-no!" Nefarious stepped back, then thought better of it, and stayed still. "You should be gone!"
"Wrong. Fucking. Person." Azraphael's voice was cold and venomous, dripping with a malice that the Doctor had never heard from them before. They summoned their sword, then, slowly advancing towards him. He'd never been more certain in his life that he was about to die.
They were on him in a flash, cutting across the clockface on his armor. He staggered backwards, and they took his helmet in one of their massive hands, yanking his head forward and slamming their forehead into his. His vision went black for a moment, and he saw stars spiraling around before it came back. Azraphael shoved him through yet another rift, following him through to the other side, and rained down blow after blow into his chest, shoulders and back. The back of their fist crashed across his face, shattering his nose, and dislocating his jaw. The next thing he knew, was that he was bouncing across a rocky surface, sliding to an abrupt halt when his back collided with a boulder.
Nefarious groaned, digging his fingers into the ground, attempting to pull himself up. Azraphael caught him by the wrist, and lifted him off the ground. They dug their fingers into his damaged armor, and ripped it off of him – it crumbled like dried mud. "Y-you can't kill me!" Beginning to panic, Nefarious grabbed at the only thread of hope he had left. "You'll collapse a timeline! You'll kill trillions!"
"Oh, I'm not going to kill you," the Angel growled. "I'm going to break you." They whipped him over their head, and slammed him back down, popping his arm out of its socket. His right leg struck a rock, and the force of the impact was enough to fracture his femur once again. He howled in shock and agony, hardly able to believe what was happening to him. What had gone wrong? Shouldn't the madness have ended with the Prophet's death? The realization of Satan's lies, and betrayal finally began to sink in – he should have just listened to Azraphael. The butcher was innocent.
"WAIT!" He screamed as the Angel lifted him up again. His voice cracked and distorted to the point of being unrecognizable. "AZRAPHAEL, PLEASE! WAIT!" His heart pounded rapidly, almost threatening to burst through his chest. Azraphael dug both hands into his side and hoisted him up above their head. "M-MERCY! HAVE MERCY!" He was in a full-blown panic now, flailing in a vain attempt to make the Angel release him.
"Believe it or not," Azraphael sighed, digging their fingers harder into him. Their voice held a distinct note of pain and sorrow, further cementing the truth in Nefarious' mind that he'd been played. "I am showing you Mercy." With that, they thrust him down hard onto a rock – he could practically feel each of the cracks forming in his vertebrae. He shrieked and howled, falling to the ground as they finally let go of him. His body twitched and convulsed uncontrollably; he was racked with such immense pain, he barely caught wind of the exchange between Azraphael and Uriel before blacking out.
"Call Sahl'resh," Azraphael commanded, their voice harder than the stones that they'd used to break the Doctor.
"Are you out of your fucking mind?!" Uriel nearly screamed at them. He was about to say more, but Azraphael cut him off with a terrible shriek.
"JUST DO IT!" They weren't going to hear it. "I will take full responsibility for everything that happened, as I should!"
"You're not making it out of this one, Azraphael!" Uriel protested, his voice thick with his own rage. "The Council won't – "
"Fuck the Council! This is my job, and I will see it through!" They paused; their voice then became quiet, if not tearful. "I can't give up, Uriel. You know full well why I just can't do that."
"God damn it, Angel…" Uriel sighed, accepting defeat. "Fine. I just hope you know what you're doing." Nefarious was sure that more had been said afterwards, but he lost consciousness before he could catch anything else. It came as a deep, blissful, mercifully dreamless sleep, allowing him temporary relief from all his pain.