"Octavia!" Moxxie shouted.

There was no response.

Damn it, Octavia.

You're not dying on me.

Not after all we've been through.

He pressed his ear up to her chest, listening closely for any semblance of a heartbeat And to his relief, she still had a pulse, albeit a weak one. He knew she didn't have much time, which only made the situation more dire. Moxxie's main first aid skill was bandaging and cleaning wounds, but actually stopping the bleeding and keeping people conscious wasn't something he had ever had to do before.

It made the stinging in his shoulder and the heavy bleeding coming from that wound seem like the least of his problems.

Moxxie wasn't an idiot, he knew that his own wound was going to catch up to him eventually, but he sure as hell had more time left than Octavia, who looked like she was on death's doorstep.

The color was already beginning to drain from her face, and as he moved he tried talking to her to keep her engaged, even though it was futile. If they didn't get help in the next few minutes, there was going to be a royal funeral. Her limbs appeared to be growing cold as well, which was either from their almost drowning in the hallway or the massive blood loss. Neither option was good.

"C'mon," he muttered, "Stay with me. Almost there."

He approached the entrance to what appeared to be the lower portion of the grand staircase, listening to the loud voices of milling passengers, who didn't seem to be fully aware of what was going on. They were laughing and drinking like nothing was happening, none of them even noticing him carrying the body. A large chandelier brought about a golden glow to the room, and the familiar smell of fresh pastries filled the air, slowly becoming overwhelmed by a musty salty odor.

There were a few faces around that he recognized, mostly famous faces from the higher circles of power. One of the local governors of the wrath wring, a few smaller nobles, and other wealthier men and women, easily identifiable by their extravagant clothing.

If the situation hadn't been so stressful, he might've taken the time to admire the famous faces more, but for now his main objective was getting onto the deck and seeing if he could find Stolas. It was the only place left that they could be, with most of the inside of the ship having flooded.

Keeping his head down low, Moxxie pushed through the throng and towards the base of the staircase, checking Octavia's pulse every couple of seconds to make sure she was still with him.

A tap on his shoulder made him jump, expecting Monte and Stella to be standing right behind him. They weren't supposed to know that they were still alive. Them finding out would quite literally put the whole operation underwater.

Turning around, however, he was met with a face that he vaguely recognized.

A demon with a red suit and black bowtie was staring back at him, concern painted on her face. Blonde hair dangled down from her head and past her shoulders, matching her pale white skin. It took a few seconds for him to register the familiarity, but when he did, his mouth was soon hanging open in surprise.

Sure, in his time on the ship he had seen royals and nobles alike, even some smaller government officials. But this, this was a sight to see.

Standing before him was none other than Charlie Magne, the princess of hell and the third-highest ranked official currently living. Her parents were none other than the mythical King Lucifer and Queen Lilith, the rulers of hell itself. Everything and everyone in all of the seven rings were under their control, and to see her moving around so casually and without security took him by surprise.

"Can I help you?" she asked with a suspicious tone before pointing to Octavia, "What do you have there?"

Moxxie looked down and realized just how suspicious he looked carrying around what looked like a dead body. And the last thing he wanted was the princess of hell getting any bad ideas about him. There was an important choice to be made.

There had been plenty of media coverage about Ms. Magne's recent actions, and he knew that she could provide help if he needed it, judging from what he had been told about her by others. Charlie wasn't like most other demons, having some semblance of a moral compass and even working towards redeeming sinners with a rehab facility further away in the pride ring. And if there was any hope of getting Octavia the help she needed, Charlie could easily provide that.

He could either lie his ass off about what happened in hopes that she would ignore him, and go on with the original plan of risking it to find Stolas. Or, he could try and explain what was happening and see if she would sympathize and try and help.

For a few seconds, he only stared back, his mind short-circuiting for a few moments and his body seizing up.

"Hello?" Charlie asked, tapping him on the shoulder, "Anyone home?"

Time was running out, and Moxxie did something that he wasn't sure he would come to regret.

"Princess Magne," Moxxie said, bowing with respect while also trying not to drop the limp figure in his hands, "There's...um...a lot going on, and as rude and prudish as it may sound, I must request your services."

"And what for?" she responded, "I assume it has something to do with...whatever this is?"

"Yes. And it needs to be fast."

"You have my attention. Go ahead."

He took in a deep breath, before explaining as vaguely as he could.

"My friend and I got caught in the flooding, and we sorta...fell...and hurt ourselves pretty bad. I got off with only a scape on my shoulder, but she um...didn't have as much luck as I did."

Charlie stroked her chin and stared quizzically, both of them calling bullshit on the story. Moxxie was about ready to pass out, knowing that her family had the power to wipe him and everybody he loved off of the face of the ethereal plane, and nobody would notice. Just look at what Monte and Stella had done. The Magnes would be smart enough to get the job done correctly, and could easily kill off anybody who tried to help him escape.

It was clear in her eyes, however, that she was still going to try and help. The deep empathy and concern flashed across her black irises, and a sympathetic smile began to overtake the suspicious scowl-half smile on her face.

"You mentioned a flooding hallway," Charlie said while reaching into her bag and pulling out a small bottle, a few drops of a glowing blue liquid inside of them, "Is there something wrong with the ship?"

What?

How the hell do you not know what's going on?

"Well," Moxxie responded, watching her take a few drops of the bottle's contents and drop them onto the bloodied wound, "The ship is sort of sinking."

The blue liquid fizzed on top of the wound, before the skin began to grow back like magic, as if she had never been shot in the first place. It had to be some sort of heavenly spell or something, because not even nobles of Stolas's status had access to such amenities, and he could only imagine how powerful it had to be. To heal injuries caused by blessed weapons like they had never happened was something that Moxxie hadn't thought possible, even in hell.

"What?!" Charlie asked, sounding concerned, "What do you mean 'sinking'?!"

Moxxie hadn't intended to trigger such a response, and he hoped that his next words wouldn't cause her too much distress.

"I-I thought you guys knew. We hit something a couple hours ago from what I heard, and water is getting in fast and taking us down…"

Now the rumbling he had heard all those hours ago was making sense.

He paused as a different horrible memory hit him, remembering his calculation based on the lifeboats and their capacity from the first day on the ship..

There weren't enough for everybody.

"And you're going to want to hurry up. The lifeboat situation is...not good."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Why do I have to be the one to say it?

Don't make me fucking say it.

Please.

"There...aren't enough for everybody. Only about half."

Charlie frowned and shook her head, but also didn't appear surprised.

"Rich jerks couldn't afford just a few more boats, couldn't they?" Charlie sighed, "Idiots, every single one of them."

Her calm tone surprised him, until he realized why.

Nobody in their right mind would deny her a spot. If anything, she seemed more pained at the thought of the hundreds of deaths that were almost certainly going to happen tonight. It seemed very in character with Charlie, at least from what he had gathered about her from outside sources. Never in his life had Moxxie imagined he would find himself talking to the future queen of hell. Never.

Right on cue, she spoke while holding the empty bottle in her hands, "So many people are going to die...So many people…"

She wasn't wrong. From what he had gathered, there was only enough room for about half of the passengers. Which would leave well over a thousand people onboard to die.

Moxxie found himself struggling to comprehend such a huge number of deaths. What was that saying, "A single death is a tragedy. A million deaths is a statistic."? Whatever it was, he found it ringing truer now more than it ever had.

Charlie rubbed her fingers together and placed her fingertips on Moxxie's own wound after pouring more of the bottle's contents onto them, a tingling sensation emanating from the spot on his shoulder and beginning to glow blue.

"She'll be awake soon, just give her a few minutes to recover," Charlie said, "If you give me a second, I can escort you guys to the deck. They're not going to deny you guys a spot in a boat if they see us with you." She leaned over and shouted over her shoulder, "Vaggie, get over here!"

A grey moth-like demon stepped up to Charlie's side, Moxxie assuming it to be the wife that Charlie had mentioned in earlier broadcasts on the news. They were a big power-couple from what he had observed. They would make a wondrous set of queens one day, and Moxxie still had trouble believing that he was in their presence.

The moth-demon, Vaggie if he remembered her name right, stared at him with the same suspicious gaze as Charlie had, although this one was much more accusatory and condescending as Charlie's had been.

"Charlie," she said, tugging at her wife's suit, "You have a lot of fucking explaining to do."

Moxxie's gaze shifted over to the lowest door of the staircase, water beginning to creep through the sides.

"You might want to hold off on that." Moxxie said, pointing to the incoming flood.

They all turned around to face the water, and Charlie took both of their arms and practically dragged them up the stairs.

"We can worry about that later," Charlie said, "But I'd prefer to stay alive, so we're going up until it's safe."

The group began to rush up the stairs, Moxxie watching as the heat and color slowly came back to Octavia's figure. Blood no longer dripped from her wounds, a large blue scar taking the place of the entry point.

That was a close one.

This was like what, the third time they had almost died? It had been interesting the first couple times, but now it felt like it was getting repetitive. And he wasn't mentally ready to deal with a death, not when his psyche had been so severely damaged as it was. Getting away from Monte and Stella had been the first step, now they had to escape the doomed vessel in one piece too.

With a princess and her bride on their side, however, Moxxie hoped that for once, the odds would be in their favor. For once, maybe they had a chance of getting away without any extra craziness. There wasn't much left that could happen without killing them.

"Glad you're not dead," Moxxie said to Octavia, the owl-demon still unconscious, "But I' m not sure how much longer our luck will hold out for."

Millie wiped tears from her eyes, her body and mind too exhausted to even sob.

This isn't happening.

This isn't happening.

No way.

I'm not taking it.

He has to be out there.

Right?

Moxxie dying had been the final straw. She was done.

The only thing keeping her going now was the dream of getting her final revenge on the two that had killed them. The ones that had filled his final moments with turmoil and pain, and killed him alone in the dark.

The ones that had killed a demon that had so much left to live for.

At least when they had been searching, there was still hope for his rescue. There was still a chance that he was out there, alive and well and out of harm's way.

Having that hope taken away drained all of the energy from her, an invisible heavy blanket of millions of pounds of sorrow and weeping descending upon her. She was on the verge of collapse, and with this new hit to her hopes, she was ready to give up. They had failed their mission and let him die, and it was something that Millie would never forgive herself for. Ever .

Loona led them ahead to the boat deck, tears visibly welling in her own eyes. For all she had said to Moxxie, Millie knew deep down that she had cared for him, if not only with the faintest form of affection.

If only Moxxie had lived long enough to see it.

Blitzo had a strained expression on his face, clearly holding back a flood of emotions too. One of Blitzo's many talents was emotional suppression, after all.

Stolas appeared completely calm and composed, which to Millie was probably the most notable reaction of them all. She could only imagine the pain that man was in right now, facing the loss of not only a distant acquaintance, but his own daughter as well. That was a pain that not even Millie could comprehend.

She noticed him clenching his fingers into a fist, so tight that he was beginning to cut through his own hand. She didn't point it out, however, since it was probably the only thing keeping that man from snapping completely and breaking down, or killing somebody, or both.

It still felt like Moxxie was right at her side, a ghost of sorts, haunting her with memories of what once was and what had been taken away from her. A foggy, but lovely dream that wouldn't leave her head.

To think that his comforting and warm presence was gone forever was too much for her to process, and she shoved the feeling back and tried to let numbness take over. Numbness would be far better than whatever emotional torment was waiting for her, and she was going to push it off for as long as she possibly could.

"Damn it, Moxxie…" she whispered, "We were so close to you…"
A heavy swallow clogged her throat.

"And now you're fucking gone. Forever."

The words didn't feel right. She knew what they meant, but her brain wasn't processing the meaning. Numbness was taking over, and she was going to welcome it with open arms.

Her face went numb as they stepped out onto the deck, the entire group remaining quiet.

Their lifeboats were neatly stacked against the side of the ship, officers in blue leaping ahead to rip the covers out. Crowds of panicking demons were huddled at the edge of the deck, more people than the ship could hold. And it only filled her with more dread.

Gunshots rang out, and Millie flinched at the noise. She saw the officers raising guns to the air, fighting off the violent masses. The others in the group were huddled on the ground in front of her, having heard the shots as well and diving for cover.

"Fuck," Loona muttered, "Can this trip get any fucking worse?"

"Don't challenge it," Blitzo said, his voice quaking, "Don't fucking challenge it."

They all knew what he was referencing, and nobody wanted to speak up and address the elephant in the room.

More gunshots rang out, and it quickly hit them that getting off of the ship was going to be a far more challenging task than once imagined. There was barely enough room on deck for them, let alone in some rickety lifeboat that could collapse at any given moment. Her will to go on was already dwindling, and she was running out of reasons to keep pushing on. And this wasn't helping manners.

"We're fucked," Millie said, "Completely fucked."

"Dammit! C'mon, we're getting out of here!" Monte shouted.

The waves had knocked them down and pushed the two of them out of the hallway, and then away into the darkness. The ship was sinking faster than he had once imagined it to be, and for the first time in a long time, he found himself filled with panic.

They were back up against a wall, with the flooding continuing to accelerate. And blessed weapons would do no good in taming the wild beast of nature's fury. It was one of the only things that truly struck fear into his heart, and one of the only things that he had absolutely no control over.

"Where the fuck do you want us to go?!" Stella hissed, "There's only one way out, and it's blocked."

Monte scanned the room, through the darkness and waves.

And right in the nick of time, something caught his eye.

There was a vent to his right, and although it would be a tight and dangerous squeeze, it was the last chance he had.

It would also be the perfect opportunity for him to ditch Stella. She had paid him shortly after their kill, and she was officially useless to him now. Her mistake had been paying him in advance, before he killed off the entire group Not that he wasn't still going to do it, but if she had waited a bit longer perhaps she would have had a chance to survive and get off alive.

It felt almost ironic. Here he was, almost condemned to the same fate that his victims had been condemned to, doomed to die in a watery grave. Moxxie and Octavia had been in the same situation not long ago, and part of him felt like it was the universe's attempt at karma.

"Sorry Stella," Monte said, ripping off the vent cover and crawling inside, "But sometimes, sacrifices have to be made for the greater good."

Damn, that was a good one. I'm keeping that.

"What?!" Stella hissed as Monte crawled further into the vent, "You motherfucker! You can't just leave me back here like this!"

Watch me.

"Watch me," Monte laughed, slamming the vent shut and crawling his way to a supposed freedom.

The space was dark and cramped, and in spite of his aversion to tight spaces, it was worth it to finally get away. To leave behind his partner, now having an imp and soon to be three royal deaths on his list.

"You bastard!" he heard Stella shout, the rushing waves drowning out her voice.

He was so caught up in his success, that he had completely forgotten about the book that he needed so dearly. The same book that was still off in Stella's hands.

"Taa taa, darling!" Monte said tauntingly, listening as her cries faded away and he neared an exit, not sure where he was about to be spat out.