The journey was discombobulating. Afriel and Ariel clashed in the light, fighting for control of the vessel as survival instincts trumped their plays in the long game. None of that made a damn difference. Ariel had been played, again.

Make sure that Dean Winchester stayed on the path. That was what Michael ordered her to do. Why did that supercilious fool not tell her that the Apocalypse is coming? She would have trained with Dean, maybe even with Sam. Would have prepared them for the fight, instead of sticking her damn head in the sand and praying that her worst fears wouldn't come to pass. Dammit! Both Ariel and Afriel hated not having the whole picture!

As the light overpowered them and they hit the floor of the Citadel, Ariel took control and began to walk towards the war room. Afriel tucked herself back in the midst of the so-called imprisonment sigils, hiding in plain sight. She hated this place, but then, demons tended not to be invited to the headquarters of the angels for many reasons.

None of that mattered to Ariel. Covered in demon blood, her feet leaving burning footprints as the infernal blood sizzled, she had only one goal. She needed to talk to Michael. No more tests, no more trials. No more fucking around. Answers, plain and simple. It was about time.

Just as Ariel turned the corner towards the study, a new complication made itself known. Zachariah... fucking pompous jackass. Firmly upper management in the scheme of things, Zachariah had ambitions to join the Council and help shape the policies of the heavens. How he managed to look nonchalant and yet self-satisfied was beyond her at this point. His greyed thinning hair was combed back from his face, but he had not bothered to hide his form's obvious corpulence underneath the suit he was.

"Zachariah." Ariel all but spat out the name. He was a pestilence on all angels. And right now, he was in her way. "Get out of my way. I need to speak to Michael."

"No can do, Ariel." He looked at his nails, completely ignoring her. The old Ariel would have closed her eyes and begged him for entry. Nowadays... well, she was much different now. Ariel exhaled sharply before summoning her powers and pushing him aside. Now was not the time for old pissing contests and she knew that. But then, she always did have her qualms with authority, even before her sojourn as a Knight.

Opening the doors to the war room, Ariel stalked up to a confused-looking Michael and knelt at his feet. "General, I must report a grave miscalculation on behalf of Castiel." As she stood up, Ariel was aware of how she must appear, covered in demon's blood.

Michael nodded his head, and began to walk around the room. "Is this to do with Alastair's interrogation? I assume you have brought answers for me?"

Ariel chortled grimly, her face a death rictus. "Oh, yes." She reined in the anger slightly. She had to appear compliant, at least for the time being. "The angels were not killed by a demon. In fact, I know that you already know that it was another angel in Castiel's battalion doing so." That was a huge bluff on her part: there was no such information confirmed.

Michael continued to nod. "Yes, I was aware. It was Uriel. He rebelled, wanting to join our brother's cause." The smile dripped from his face as Michael's voice oozed disgust like acid.

Ariel's teeth showed in her death grin. "Then, this was another test, yes? Another way for you to convince Dean Winchester to join the cause? To stay the straight and narrow?"

Michael's face grew solemn. "It was a test, but not just for Dean. It was for you, as well." Michael sat down behind a desk in the corner of the room, watching Ariel like a predator watching a tiger stalking.

"Tell me why, General." Ariel didn't ask this time. "I have done everything you have asked of me. Four thousand years of penance, and I served without complaint or question. But now... you owe me this." She made sure never to lose eye contact with Michael as they turned around in the room. She couldn't trust that he wouldn't stab her in the back for whatever he considered sedition these days.

It was Michael's turn to chortle. "You forget your place, Ariel. I owe you nothing. I gave you a second chance, after you killed hundreds of us. I gave you re-education, a purpose. It is you that owe me, and don't you dare forget it." He rubbed his hands down the lapels of his suit jacket, cleaning off some invisible contaminant. "You must realize, by now, that the only thing that awaits you after your service is complete is death. You will never see peace when you die in my service, and you will die. You're a soldier, Ariel, nothing more. What you need to do is get on board with the plan that Father made for us."

Ariel fell her face turn pale, and her strength left her again. As if a puppet cut from her strings, she fell to her knees before Michael. Tears streaked through the blood on her face. Her sobs were empty and quiet. Hope beyond hope's end was a terrible curse, and some small part of her had hoped that, deep down, Michael still loved her. Why else would he have saved her all those years ago? Afriel was right, in the end. It was terribly good propaganda to show that a Knight of Hell, fallen angel in all her infernal glory, could be brought back to the light, to the side of the angels. To use might for right, not might as right.

"The Apocalypse. You want it to start, don't you?" Ariel put the puzzle pieces together, becoming horrified as they began to fit. "You don't want Dean preventing it. You knew about the first seal, how he was the one. You want the Cage opened, and him free. You want to kill Lucifer, don't you?" She waved her bloody hands around the room. "It never mattered what Dean or Sam did to prevent the Apocalypse: you want the cage match."

Michael's face grew solemn. "It's not 'want', Ariel. I need to kill him, because I am a good son. I have always obeyed our Father, and you will not stop me." His fingers tapped on the desk. "You cannot stop me, little sister. Your only job is to make sure that Dean becomes my vessel. That's the job, Ariel." A chortle escaped him again. "And you're not doing so great at that, either."

Ariel felt her body grow weak. "I never wanted to stop you, Michael." Her words were a whisper in the stark of the room. "I would have stood aside and watched the world burn for you once, Michael. I would've lit the torch and did it myself. I would have walked through whatever you told me to do." The disbelief in her voice kept it quiet, echoing in the room's power. "I chose you, Michael. I chose to follow you in the Great Fall. I would've done anything for you, my big brother."

Ariel felt herself go hard and stood up slowly. She glared at Michael, appreciating the dichotomy of it all. She, a soldier, standing bloody and defiant against her general, clean-pressed and manicured hands. Michael rarely took the field, not since he dragged her to the Citadel in the Flood. But, he held the power of the Host in his hands. Had spent millennia perfecting his skills against the best of Heaven. Well, she had tested her mettle against the best of Hell, was one of the best.

Ariel straightened her spine and stared at Michael, calm in the midst of rage. "I will complete this order, and then? I'm through. I'm done."

Michael said nothing, just cocked an eyebrow.

"I will no longer choose between my brothers, Michael. I won't let you make me choose." Ariel glared at him, sticking her chin out.

Michael chortled, before giving way to full blown belly laughs. The tears flowed from his eyes as he laughed so hard, his face turned red. It seemed almost obscene, just how long he laughed for. "Of course you will, Ariel. You'll choose, again and again."

Ariel just stood there. Michael thought that she was kidding. That was... actually quite funny, in its own way. But, all good things must end. Even this lovely convo.

"Aw, isn't this precious?" A voice from behind her made her growl. How did Zachariah get in here? This was a private meeting! She turned and saw him with four other angels armed with their swords. "Big sister trying to grow a pair."

Michael was catching his breath, rubbing the tears away from his eyes. "Zachariah, now, now. She's just angry. She can be, as long as she follows orders." He took a few more breaths, trying to centre himself again.

Zachariah's goons came forward, grabbing Ariel and forcing her to the ground. One pushed her face to the floor as she tried to buck them off. Their swords would do nothing against her. She was still an archangel, Fallen or not. It would take more than their little pig-stickers to kill her.

Michael's shoes came into her vision. "Strip her of the swords, Zachariah. It appears that Ariel requires some time with Naomi." There was a rustle above her. "You'll need these."

At the sight of the leather cuffs, Ariel roared. "NO! NO MORE! Fucking twats! GERROF ME!" None of her strength was enough for the sigil-laden manacles, tied into place and secured once more. As her Grace was locked away, Ariel saw Afriel in her mind's eye, bashing her hands bloody against the mirror. She wanted so badly to reach for her shadow, to let her darkness consume her.

As she bucked and fought, the angels began to beat her. No... 'beat' was too gentle. They mauled her. A cacophony of fists and kicks fell on her as the angels tied her in place. Ariel could feel the bruises forming, the blood falling down her face. It didn't matter: no more! She had done enough, had paid enough!

"That's enough, brothers." Michael sounded his self-assured self again. "I want her in one piece for Naomi."

Obedient to the core, the angels stopped and moved away, leaving Ariel bound and fettered, bleeding before his throne. He knelt before her, and grabbed her hair. Ariel couldn't stop the groan as he pulled her head back.

"I gave you purpose, Ariel. I gave you a second chance." His voice was quiet as he looked over his handiwork of bruises and blood that was Ariel's face. "And you wasted it, with your feelings and your thoughts. You have only one thing saving you: Father has a plan for you. So, you will not die today. You will learn, again, and then you will serve. This time, Naomi shall take no quarter. No mercy, for the sake of my sister. You squandered it." He pulled her head closer to him, whispering. "I just wish I could be there when you break."

Ariel's throat had been kicked, her voice stolen in the beating. So, she did the next best thing. She gathered up the blood in her mouth and spat it in Michael's face. Smirking, she watched it stain his immaculate dress shirt.

"Zachariah!" Michael whipped out a handkerchief, wiping down his face. "Take her." His voice was like thunder in the storm, echoing in anger.

There was a finger snap, and two of the angels still in the room tucked their arms under her shoulders. They dragged Ariel from the war room, following the strides of Zachariah down the hall. Once again, the halls became lined with those that were once her family. They turned away at the sight of her apparent gross disobedience, whispering words of another Lucifer as Ariel closed her eyes and tried her best to ignore them all.

At the doorway to the room, Ariel was dropped to the floor without any ceremony, her head yanked back by her hair to stare up. Zachariah simply stood over her, that pompous triumphant look on his face.

She didn't struggle, not this time around. She had been to Hell and back, literally. What could Heaven do to her that was worst then that?

"Well, well." Zachariah knelt before her, carefully not to get any of her blood on him as he rubbed her face in a mockery of concern. "You've been a naughty girl, haven't you, Ariel dear?" He moved a lock of her hair off her face. "Or should we just call you Afriel instead?"

She still couldn't speak, so Ariel spat in his face. That earned her another punch in the chin, breaking her jaw. Ariel could feel Afriel trying to break out, but she tamped down on her friend. She could take it. She had been to the Table before, and she survived then. She was older now, far more jaded and cynical. What new things could Naomi do to her that she had not experienced at the hands of Asmodeus and Alastair a thousand times over.

"Now, now, Afriel. You know the rules for disobedience as well as I do, remember?" That smile on his face, it was more than enough to make a saint swear. "Don't worry: Michael wants you alive after this."

She made a promise to herself as the angels dragged her over the threshold kicking and screaming until one of her enforcer brothers decked her out cold: she would get out of here, and then she would kick Zac's righteous ass from here to kingdom-fucking-come.

Then... she was coming for Michael.