It was getting dark outside, and Louise was hard at work. She had commandeered the blackboard Tiffania usually used to teach her charges, and was busy drawing numerous equations and spell matrices onto it.

Tabitha was watching with interest. Tiffania was pleasantly confused.

"What are you doing, honoured Louise?" she asked finally.

"I'm trying to piece together a spell matrix," was the absentminded reply. "I am after all the top of my class in theory, even though the practicals go wonky due to power overwhelming." Louise underlined an equation. "There. Tabitha, what do you think?"

"Interesting," was the stoic girl's reply. "Would that work?"

Louise exhaled in aggravation. "The theory is sound. The practical... well. You know what they're like."

Tiffania was chewing on her lip. "What are you trying to accomplish? It feels like your magic knows what an end result should be, and accomplishes it in an unorthodox way. From what I have seen. That is." She was fidgeting slightly.

Louise looked at the elf. Then at the board. Then back at the elf. Then growled. "Fuck. That's exactly what it does, doesn't it?" She started swiping the blackboard aggressively. "I might as well just point my wand and hope for afuckingmiracle, because that's all this thing is good for, isn't it?"

"Thought process helps," noted Tabitha, a thoughtful look on her face.

Louise stared at her for a long moment. Then, with a strangled cry, she started rescribbling the equations she had just swiped off. Tabitha palmed her face.

Q U E R Y

Ramiel floated over and made a questioning noise, shuddering violently due to the fact that Tabris was perched upon its currently cuboid surface and wasrefusing to get off of it gross gross gross. Still, it had enough presence of mind to wonder what Louise was doing, and if it needed to help her with higher order math equations.

Louise rubbed her eyes. "I'm trying to figure out how to get us off this floating rock - no offense, Tiffania, it's a lovely place - and therefore breaking down a Levitation enchantment. I'm hoping that -" she gestured at a particular set of equations - "since Sylphid is out of commission and you can't fly, I'll be able to get that shipwreck into a semi-usable condition to get us back to the Academy." She laughed bitterly. "Theoretically, the arithmancy is sound. Practically, my magic is probably going to refract through your dimensions and we'll end up with something completely unrecognisable."

She underlined another equation. "So unless you have a solution you can pull out of your metaphorical ass, we're stuck here for the time being." Louise paused. "Unless we go steal another ship."

D E S T R U C T I O N

Ramiel answered rather bluntly, shifting its surfaces around and dumping Tabris on his ass as it all but begged for the chance to blow shit up. Which, honestly, wasn't surprising in the least to Louise. It paused for a moment, then considered what Louise had actually just said.

F L I G H T

With an almost exasperated sounding tone, Ramiel reminded everyone that, yes, it could in fact fly, but not while it was so small. If it grew to its full form, then it could easily get back to the main continent.

Louise rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "I... hadn't considered that. To return, in a massive superfortress that just so happens to be my Familiar, and dare I say, friend..." She smiled. "I can see that happening. Of course, it would completely negate any form of stealth, but somehow I doubt we'd need it all that much anymore... I should be proud of you, don't I?"

Tabitha raised her hand. "What of logistics?"

Louise gave her a look. "What do you mean?"

The wind mage rolled her eyes. "Carrying us. How?"

Louise paused. "Oh. Right. Er." She gave a helpless look at her Familiar. "Howwouldyou carry us all, Ramiel?"

Ramiel just made a hum of annoyance and shifted shapes once more, flattening out before all but scooping Louise up onto its top surface, doing the same with Tabitha and Sylphid before growing and growing andgrowingto gargantuan size, to the point that it became a nearly mountain sized cube with a tiny divot at the top large enough to hold a house, where upon the three of them sat.

Louise blinked. "Right. That works." She looked around. "Tabitha, could you direct my voice down there? I want to thank Tiffania for her hospitality."

The other girl smiled slightly and scooted closer to Louise, whispering an incantation while holding her staff tight in one hand. With the other, she hugged Louise.

Louise felt a telltale tingle of magic around her mouth and ears, and flashed Tabitha a smile. Then she leaned forward and called out, "Thank you for letting us use your house, Tiffania! Don't get too perverted with your familiar! We'll try to visit sometime!"

She heard an answering call of thanks and grinned, nodding at Tabitha that she could drop the spell now. "Okay then, my magnificent Familiar! Do yourthing!"

With a shriek of what could only be assumed to be joy, Ramiel immediately took off over the horizon, AT-Field shimmering as it propelled itself off into the sky and over the edge of Albion, shining in the sun and reveling in the fact that it was big again. As it crossed the sky and made its way back to Tristain, Ramiel's geometry changed slightly, keeping the platform for its passengers while shifting the rest of it to a more aerodynamic shape to conserve energy.

Louise hugged Tabitha to her, ignoring the other girl's tiny squeak, and whooped with glee as the wind blew in her hair.

~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, at Villain's Vale, Diablo was scheming up a plan to get new recruits. And then a pit opened up in front of her six-villain strong group.

While the other four were nonchalant about it, Matilda and Pete froze in terror. What in all the worlds could possibly be spit from that red maw of horror? Why, it could be any number of horrors! A demon, a dragon, a devilish lord, even the legendary Master Octomus!

But what it appeared to be was something far more human. An elderly man hoisted himself onto the edge of the ground above the pit, nearly collapsing. His chrome-colored hair was tousled, his black robes stained red with blood. A bloodstained sword clanged to the ground beside him, dropped from his hand.

"At last…" he panted, in a voice like honey. "I have…I have proven my virtue…no longer can the fires of Hell hold me…as never they should have!"

"Whoa, whoa, hang on for a minute!" Evolt interrupted.

The man flinched, recoiling; he hadn't realized there was more.

"Are you saying that's the pit to Hell itself?" Evolt asked.

The man scowled. "You speak of it with no fear, no respect. Had you just fought your way through each and every ring of the punishment of sinners, as I have done, then you might be singing a different tune."

"You just fought your way outta heck?" Pete's eyes were wide. "That's no mean feat!"

The man was wresting himself to his feet, already quite tired of this entire discussion. "I was not meant to be among the damned," he stated. "That conviction I held in my soul. It was what allowed me to take up the blade and begin my sacred mission to save my own soul. Not to mention that when one is faced with eternal torment, one also has an eternity to figure out an escape."

Diablo was many things. For instance, an opportunist. And also rather chaotic. These two things combined as she observed Hell's refugee; "Heyyyy. A guy like you, I could use on my team. You, me and my little crew, we could figure out a way to take over everything!"

"And why should I waste such a blessing on you?" the man spat.

"'Cause you may not be in the drink," Pete reminded him. "But you an' us, we're still a couple of lost souls. Which means we're stuck all the way down here 'till some big name villain decides to take pity on us…or we take matters into our own hands!"

"Hmph," the man sniffed. "A pagan."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Evolt mocked. "Did this look like the world you were from to you?"

The other didn't want to admit it, but eventually relented; "It seems my punishment did not end in Hell. The truth is far worse than I ever realized."

"Huh what now?" Matilda asked.

"I devoted my life to our Lord," the man stated proudly. "I purged the world of sin in his name. He sent me his blessed angels to do his bidding: the creatures of golden eyes who hide in shadow. My only crime was that I was seduced by a woman – a woman who deserved to burn! It was I who cleansed our city of those who did not truly believe in the Lord above! And my reward for such piousness? Damnation! Eternal damnation!" He gritted his teeth. "If this is what the Lord wills…then I have lost any inclination to serve Him. Perhaps giving in to the Devil would have been the more rewarding outcome, loath as I am to admit it."

"Huh." Pete thought it over. "You sure you didn't do, y'know, some of that bad stuff that people do in the name of all that churchy stuff?"

"My will was PURE outside of the work of that witch-woman!" the man growled. "Though always within me raged a spark, a spark that could have blossomed into the flames of Hell…and now, I will ignite it in my final act of defiance against the Lord who shunned my devotion!"

Diablo wasn't really sure this man's will had been anything close to pure. But maybe if she played along, she could get the Hell-slayer to agree to his terms. "Well, you know what'd really tick off the big guy upstairs? If we overthrew him and ruled as the new gods, nay, the Crow Legion!"

"Indeed," the man mused. "An act of ultimate defiance…"

"Whaddya say, pal?" Pete asked, extending a hand. "Diablo's brains, Evolt's powers, Flotsam and Jetsam's deal making skills, Matilda's magic, my brawn and your brawn, and we take over the cosmos?"

The other flinched. "And what reason do I have to align with you?"

"'Cause boss knows magic like the back of her hand," Pete explained. "Trust me, me, her and the eels were in with the guys who ran this whole shindig. We got all the ins and outs! Well, most of 'em, anyway."

"If this is not true," the other threatened, "then you will meet your rightful end at my sword."

"Uh…good luck with that one, pal," Pete sighed. Maybe demons could be killed by the dead, but Pete was pretty sure dead couldn't kill other dead. "But you're saying you're in, right?"

"I suppose…"

"I'm Diablo, and yes, I'm a girl." Diablo stated.

"Flotsam and Jetsam, we were a sea witch's pets." Flotsam stated.

"We followed her every whim." Jetsam stated.

"I'm Evolt, of the Blood Tribe." Evolt said.

"I'm Matilda de Sachsen-Gotha, Fouquet to my employers." Matilda said.

"Name's Pete!" Pete said proudly, retracting his hand (which it was obvious his new partner wasn't going to shake) and using it to thumb at himself. "And who're you?"

The man drew himself up as tall as he could be. "Minister Claude Frollo."

~~~~~~~~

Tabitha, if she was being honest, could hardly recall a situation where she had been happier. Sure, the surface was hard, and sure, the wind was cold, and sure, she was toeing a line (or perhaps even playing jumprope with the line as far as Joseph would have been concerned), but all the same, as the girl she was definitely falling in love with hugged her close, she simply could not keep a goofy little smile from blooming onto her face.

Maybe things could just... work out after all?~~~~~~~~

Tiffania looked away towards the rapidly departing blue diamond. She glanced at Kaworu, at her new Familiar. "Do you think they're going to be okay?" she asked. , a small chill going down her spine at the strange expression on his face.

Kaworu just hummed, his hand resting on his chin as he watched them leave.

"... They should enjoy their peaceful lives while it lasts."

~~~~~~~~

"TA-DAAAAAA!" Diablo gestured out to the expansion Diablo made to Villain's Vale. "Welcome to Casa de Diablo."

The seven villains stood atop a set of wide, flat stairs leading from one level of brown cobblestone to another. Wooden buildings with distinctive Victorian flourishes surrounded them; brightly-lit signs labeled an Accessory Shop among others.

Frollo sniffed. "What a garish little town."

"I don't get it, boss." Pete scratched his head. "Why did ya make this place?"

The sound of fluttering wings. "Hush," Frollo whispered, sensing it. His hand went to the hilt of the blade on his hip.

"Ohhh," Pete said knowingly. Then, very loudly: "WELL, AT LEAST IT'S A TOTALLY NORMAL PLACE WHERE WE CAN TAKE A REST!"

A whoosh. Something descended. Diablo turned quickly and pummeled her fist directly into it.

A humanoid form shot back from it, straight across the cobblestone, head over heels. A white mask with only dark eyes and mouth carved in tumbled off the assailant's face, leaving him clad in black robes. A knife also skittered across the stone. When the attacker hit the wall of the nearby cafe, he came to a halt, then lay there for just a moment, thinking all sorts of obscenities.

"Hehehehehe!" Evolt guffawed. "That guy thought he could get the drop on us! How'd you know he was one of the bad guys, anyhow?"

"I can always sense the presence of a demon," Frollo stated smugly.

Instantly the man was on his feet. Or perhaps "boy" was more accurate – he seemed on the older end of teenagers, with a little bit of dirty-blond scruff and bangs that fell into his newly-exposed eyes. "Not a demon," he corrected with a smirk. "Reaper. Or Shinigami, if you want the technical term."

"I have already slain hundreds of your kind," Frollo warned.

"No," Diablo corrected. "You killed hundreds of demons. I'm assuming. Dead souls can kill demons. They can't kill Reapers. Reapers kill dead souls all over again. Ghostface can send you right back to whichever afterlife you started in if he wanted."

Frollo flinched. Then: "You're BLUFFING."

"Why come after us, huh, pal?" Pete made a fist. "We didn't do anything to ya! …Yet."

"I know," The boy said with a shrug. "I just like the thrill of the hunt. Ever since the other Reapers kicked me out, thankfully not taking my powers, I've finally been free to do what I want. No rules. The only problem is…no UG to go to means no fresh blood. Until you."

"You will speak proper French this instant," Frollo snapped.

"That's what you think you're speaking, isn't it?" the boy mocked. His wiry black wings shuffled, re-folding behind his back. "It's all the same in here. French, English, Japanese…now I can threaten anyone in any language. Who could ask for more?"

"Now hold the phone!" Pete snapped. "What's all this you're talkin' about? Reapers? UG? Who left? Why? Answer me!"

"Why should I?" the boy asked cockily.

"'Cause if ya don't," Pete growled, "ya get another knuckle sandwich." He drew back, winding up.

The boy – the Reaper – actually flinched.

"He can be threatened by the dead after all," Frollo said smugly.

"Let me ask you this question instead," the Reaper said. "Why are you here? What are you looking to gain from all this?"

"What is rightfully mine," Frollo seethed. "A way to dethrone the Lord, and affirmation that I have been driven to this wretched state by the neglect of our own Lord."

"I'm lookin' to help boss lady take the throne!" Pete added. "That way, we can get to conquerin' and the whole power-riches-revenge combo!"

"I must admit," Frollo said, "in this light, I cannot say power, riches, or especially revenge is a dissuasion."

"Power, riches, revenge," the Reaper repeated. "And murder?"

"If it is necessary to get our greater goal," Frollo answered.

"What he said!" Pete nodded agreement.

Diablo laughed. "You just might be all right." She turned to look out over the First District of Traverse Town. "I got this, cause it was a world for people who need somewhere else to go. A man-child from another world came here looking for a place to stick his friends…because he'd blown up their world. He wanted so badly to make up for the destruction that he caused, moments after he'd caused it. I can't believe anyone could be so hypocritical and not just…revel in it. Anyway, they called him Joshua. Joshua Kiryu. But officially, he was the Composer. In his world, he turned the Netherworld into a giant game. Souls would play to either come back to life or get shoved into the next afterlife. Or erased, if you really messed up. When he came here, he turned this Netherworld into the same thing. The 'UG,' or 'Underground.' He brought all his little Reaper friends, set up the game so his friends could play for all eternity without realizing how much he ruined them. And that's where Ghostface came in. You could say he was just…passing through after he was horribly murdered by an amateur who used dirty tactics. But he played nice, and then Joshua let me in on his little game. He claimed to be omniscient, but he didn't realize for so long that Ghostface was reaping souls right out of his clutches! It got down to so few from that world…I think he had a crush on one of them, so his claws came out. But Ghostface here is good at what he does. He thought it was someone else. Another pair of Reapers. He waved his magic hands, brought them back to life, and now the garbageman and his little sister can't play anymore but he never caught the ghost. Oh, he found out it was him. He let him know. Ghostface watched the horror in his face as he realized he'd been picking off so many of his little friends. He tried to end him on the spot. There were four special ones he just didn't want dead. He welcomed the challenge. But then he conspired with an angel to bring their old world back to life, and the ditz, the dumbass, the annoying kid and the one he liked all got to go back home. And Ghostface? He just stayed out of sight. He stopped being the cat so he could play the mouse…and let me tell you, he never found the hole he was hiding in. He was smart, though. Once you set up a UG, you can't take it down. But the only way to become a Composer of an existing UG is to kill the last one. He just transferred his power back to his first one. This UG has no Composer. It barely has any souls in it. It's just a lawless wasteland…which is good for him." Diablo grinned. "All he wanted was some bloodshed. So I took Traverse Town and added it to the Vale."

"Now hang on for just a minute!" Pete realized. "You said this game could bring people back to life?"

"You want it for you?" the Reaper taunted. "Good luck. There's no one to run the game, and you'd have to be playing it."

"Another god who abandoned his domain," Frollo spat. "Who allowed injustice to reign."

"Yeah, well…we can't be Composers," Pete realized, "but we could still run the game thingy, right?"

The Reaper laughed. "I'm glad boss didn't kill you a second time. You might be worth it after all. Yeah, it's possible."

"You will show us how to take advantage of this…game," Frollo demanded. "And you will tell us your name."

"It's Kieran," the Reaper answered. "Kieran Wilcox. But people liked to give me a little nickname. 'Ghostface.'" He chuckled again. "If only they knew."

"You know me, Kieran, it's Diablo, the rest are Flotsam, Jetsam, Pete, Evolt, Matilda and Claude." Diablo said.

"You will refer to me as MINISTER FROLLO," Frollo seethed.

"Trusting me isn't a good idea." Kieran stood, unfurling his wings. "But if you really think I won't kill you, then follow me to the River."

He took off at a slow glide, enough for the other seven to keep pace.

"Be at the ready," Frollo hissed. "I expect this demon to turn on us the moment we let down our guard."

"I gotcha," Pete said with a nod. "One wrong move and he's toast."

Kieran led them into the Second District of the town, into a back street, through a gate that led to a waterway within a carved green cavern. At the end of a long channel was a mural, a sun and moon intertwined.

The living would have had to stop there. But Kieran and Diablo phased right through the mural, indicating to the others that they could do the same. Once all eight had passed through the wall, they found themselves in a cavernous subterranean room, like that of a chapel, lit by several braziers that still couldn't quite chase all the shadows out of the buttresses above. A single throne adorned the far end of the room. Many arched doorways branched out to lead to other quarters.

Kieran fluttered, landed, and put out his arms. The walls sprang to life, showing visions of the town as it currently stood. It had a few citizens, the refugees of other disasters, who went about a daily life as anyone would. They seemed happy.

"No souls but us," Kieran remarked. "Not yet. But the nice thing is, if one of us takes over the game, you can bring them in yourself, from any world you want. Reapers can't, but souls can."

"So what's the game we make 'em play?" Pete asked.

"Make them team up with someone they don't like," Kieran explained. "Then give them tasks and set a timer. If they don't finish on time…poof!"

"And the tasks can be…?" Pete asked.

"Whatever we want," Kieran answered. "Make a sandwich. Cure cancer. Break the Geneva Convention if you're feeling playful."

"So we could use 'em to figure out a way to take down the big guy!" Pete realized. "All we gotta do is send 'em on the assignments to do the hard work for us!"

"Do you not see the greater implications of what is at our hands?" Frollo looked nearly giddy. "The Lord has abandoned us, not to elevate the sinners and condemn the devout. But to hold His divine power in this world alone. It is in our hands now to collect the sinners, to punish them for their misdeeds, to put them through a Hell of our own design! A purpose for which I would revel in working with a demon of my own."

"Reaper," Kieran corrected. "But go on."

"You could be an arbiter of judgment," Frollo seethed, "a tormentor of the damned!"

"I like the way you think!" Pete crowed. "Just, uh, one thing. We can't make the chores too hard, or else we don't have any dead guys left!"

"I guess we could leave some standing," Kieran sniffed. "But I wouldn't make it too easy, either. We've gotta have a little fun around here."

"Well, whaddaya say, everyone?" Diablo suggested. "Let's get to work! Oh, and one more thing: dibs on the throne!"