Returning to the King's grounds was surreal. It was like wandering through a distant dream, one that could not be believed as fact, and yet here it was. Amon flew close to Nike, for he could tell her experience of this was far more intense than even his.

"It'll be alright Nike; we won't stay here for long. We have a cozy firepit to return home to once business is done," he soothed.

She took that comfort and nodded her head back to him as they began to fly over the various demon camps. The tribes were looking much shabbier than Amon remembered. Their numbers had seemed to dwindle and the once-proud spirits they had possessed were nowhere to be found. It sent a shudder up the beastia's spin to see how bad things had become.

The further in they got the more wandering glances they found themselves caught in. Onlooking demons viewed the two incomers, they stared on, as if watching a ghost roam the Earth.

"We're nearing our destination, remain alert!" Satan called back.

The demons did as they were instructed as the king's castle loomed above them. The musty smell of the inside brought Amon back to a time settled deep in the sediment of his mind. The further in they went the more the beast recalled each detail. Almost nothing had seemed to change, all except the bustle. There were almost no other demons around, and the few they had seen appeared feeble and beaten over.

"My lord you have returned."

The sudden arrival of the new voice snapped Amon out of his trance. Satan's righthand assistant, Jenny, had floated her way back to his side. He seemed quite pleased to see her as he tipped his head respectfully.

"Greetings Jenny, I trust all went accordingly while I was away?" the lord asked.

"There were two more attacks, taking a toll on our dinazo armies, but besides that, there is little to report master," she answered.

Amon noticed a sudden sourness in his lover's face. Before he could even query her about it, she leaned in and whispered.

"Oh, the pet found a new teacher I see."

The great devil had to stifle a snicker, doing his best to find a new distraction. It appeared he wouldn't have to look much further for as soon as he turned his head, he caught sights of someone familiar. Her eyes were baby blue and glistening, sharing the same sense of disbelief and shock.

"Amon?" she questioned.

"Sirene," he murmured.

Her gaze of disbelief lingered as she slowly started to approach him. When at last her expression changed it was when she noticed the one next to him. Her lip curled and her eyes narrowed in disgust. She didn't address her immediately, however, as it seemed her interest in the great devil overrode all else.

"Amon, you've returned. After all this time. What made you, at last, come to your senses?" She questioned with suspicion in her voice. Amon couldn't muster his words instantly, as he mulled the situation over countless times. For some moments the three of them hovered there, with even Satan and his assistant noticing the tense air.

"I never lost my senses Sirene, if anything I gained a few more. I'm only back here now because things have become dire, and I must defend my fellow devils. I'm here to keep my word, nothing more," he stated.

Sirene didn't appear entirely convinced. Her face was still scrunched and unwavering. It was then finally her eyes flicked to the one beside him. Her repugnance was pertinent.

"And what of this? I haven't seen you around here in some time, I thought you had at last gotten yourself killed."

The initial shock Nike held on her features dissipated instantly as it shifted into one of annoyance. Her head tilted to the side slightly as she crossed her arms.

"Sorry to disappoint you, I just left on my own actually. I can only take listening to someone fawn over themselves so many times before I must distance myself from it."

Sirene somehow managed to make herself appear even more cross, "Good riddance. I can only take listening to so much bitterness before I would destroy it!"

Nike outwardly displayed her contempt and was ready to let loose a savage tongue lashing, that was right before she found herself interrupted.

"I hate to break up such a reunion, but I feel the need to remind you both, we have matters to attend to," the angel cut in.

Amon's vision shifted between the two. He could see the aggression on Nike's face and instinctively he raised his arm, taking her away from the situation gently. He didn't like seeing her work herself up, even if he knew she was more than capable of defending herself.

"Yes Nike, we can deal with it later, alright?" he reigned her close to him. She still was notably perturbed, sharing the same evil eye Sirene had.

"Yeah…" she replied distractedly.

"Don't be long Amon, it's been far too long already!" the sultry sound of the demon bird touched the demon's ears as they turned away. The beastia, didn't acknowledge her, even though deep down he knew she'd never let him ignore her. He was simply content they could at least part themselves from her for the time being.

The small traveling party continued on. It wasn't much further ahead the lord and his assistant stopped to face them once more. They stopped and hovered before what was once Zennon's throne room. Satan had a pleased expression as he looked at Amon.

"I'm sure you recognize these doors, correct?"

The beastia didn't need to speak a word to show his knowing discomfort.

"Do not fret you are still working with me. I just figured for old time's sake Zennon would much appreciate welcoming you back," the angel explained.

"I'm sure he would…" Amon muttered only loud enough for Nike to hear him. Without hindrance, the witch took his hand. Supporting him as they began to step through the giant wailing doors. The recollections ran through the demon's head, already guessing what was to be expected. He knew of all the grandeur and elegance. He knew of Zennon's high lifestyle and how he wore himself, only as Amon stepped inside, the room he was met with was nearly unrecognizable. The interior was nearly barren and seemed to have been that way for some time by the accumulation of cobwebs. Scanning over the whole area, it appeared as though it had been entirely abandoned, that was until Amon recognized someone was here.

His ears rose slightly, as did his brow. There looked to be a slumped figure sitting motionlessly on Zennon's thrown. It took a few double glances before it finally sunk into the great demon that this listless lump was in fact Zennon himself. Amon did not possess a high affinity for the demon king, but even he admittivity found the sight troubling.

The black mass of fur rustled upon hearing them enter, and almost immediately he shot up from his spot. His demeanor completely spun around as his gaze greeted them. It was impressive how quickly he could throw on a false face. Amon chalked it up to centuries of practice.

"Amon! The great devil, you have returned to us at last!" Zennon proclaimed in a booming voice. He descended the crumbling steps of his thrown with open arms. The red beastia was not as warm, but at the very least granted him a respectful acknowledgment. The king seemed to be able to sense the dissonance as he cooled his approach.

"Greetings Zennon, I figured you'd be much pleased to see the guests I have found," Satan announced.

The demon of legend watched closely to the king's body and posture. He was a subtle devil and hid much of his true nature, however, there was something most certainly off about him. By all appearances he was putting on the same show of grandeur and control he always had, only now he seemed much smaller. Outwardly he had stayed the same, but inwards he had become much more reserved, especially around one particular participant. When Satan's voice grew Zennon diminished. When Satan stepped forward, he stepped back. When Satan's head rose the king's bowed. It was not addressed to him, but Amon did not need to be told to know there was a new ruler amongst them.

"You presumed correctly; this truly is a delight! Amon…" Zennon trailed off as his gaze wandered to the female next to him. "And what's this? Nike, the master witch herself… the ghost of demonkind's pride…" he practically feasted on the sting of those words. "I believed much less I'd ever see you again. I'd guessed you had ended your existence after such shames you suffered. I'm curious, after everything, why come back, and especially with such a magnificent devil as Amon?"

Amon could practically feel the disdain rolling off Nike's very skin, and he couldn't much blame her. He could tell she was holding back her tongue, wanting to remain as poised as she possibly could. The beastia never fully understood their relationship, but he knew the toll it took on her to endure him again. Her face was cold and difficult to read but if one was to stare long enough, they might find a pinch of sadness beneath all that fictitious apathy. The enchantress eased ever so slightly as if releasing the hate she held in her heart for the king in one breath.

"It certainly wasn't for your sake, that's for sure…" she said barely above a whisper as her pupils avoided the mass of a demon. It was all she would allow herself to say.

A coy simper softly decorated Zennon's lips. It was the first genuine smile he had made the whole visit. The moon demon wanted to claw that look right off his face.

"What is this? I did not come all this way, only for you to belittle me or my mate further as you once had!" Amon rose his voice.

At first, the dark-furred demon seemed somewhat startled by the reaction, but that soon evaporated. He recalled Amon always was rash. Satan seemed even less pleased with the situation, sending Zennon a disapproving glare. Oddly enough if the warrior wasn't mistaken, Zennon appeared somewhat more troubled by this than himself.

"Oh, of course not," the king diplomatically assured. "My apologies if that came off unfortunate. I am very much glad to see our Nike return to us, I'd say we need her now more than ever!" he leaned around Amon to view her again. "Do not take any of that negatively dear, we always did like to bicker and prod one another, hmm?"

Nike's face remained sturdy and stagnant. Her sharp eyes dug into him without warmth or belief. Even still, she didn't press it responding only in a hum of concession.

"Yes, do forgive that misunderstanding. We are simply elated to have you both here," the angel cut in calmly. "There will be a small celebration in gratitude of your return, but of course, there is business to attend to."

Amon could already feel the shift in mood. The part he was most concerned with was now arising. He did not know what the angel had in mind, he just hoped it would be something worthy of his return.

"Zennon, how about you go and begin our preparations for tonight, I have negotiations I must discuss with our allies," Satan ordered.

For a split second, the king seemed a tad put off guard as he raised a look at the angel.

Zennon started sheepishly, "My apologies my lord, but I supposed I believed that I would-"

"Be joining us? That won't be necessary. I would much prefer for you to do as I said before."

The offense bit the king's nose causing him to wince, but not a word of defiance left his lips. He took it, like a child with a slapped wrist, he backed away limply.

"Surely you understand your highness," Satan said bluntly.

"Why yes, of course," Zennon retorted with a chipperness Amon did not believe. "I was thinking the same thing myself, see to it, my lord."

"But of course," the light being smiled chillingly. "Come now, Amon, Nike, Jenny and I will guide you to the war room."

He started off, allowing his lacky to linger behind and walk at the rear. Amon kept hold of Nike's hand. They could not speak directly to one another, but both understood the unease of the situation. The grand door's opened with a whine as the group entered. The room was just as Amon had always known, only now it appeared as though no one had been there in several years.

Satan stood beside his chair and motioned for Amon and Nike to take their seat first. They did so, going through the motions as if on autopilot, but even then, every move was precisely calculated. Neither end wanted to take a single wrong step.

The angel sat with them peaceably enough but certainly had an agenda in mind. Time was of the essence, and he didn't seem to want to waste another second.

"I think it's rather clear why I brought you both here today, so I will not go over that again. We are allied together by a common goal and that is good enough for me. Now for what I wanted to discuss is tactics and my overall plan of advancement."

Amon's ear's curiously perked, "You already had a plan laid out before we even got here?"

"Why of course, a good general prepares for many outcomes. Luckily for me you choosing to return has allotted me the use of my most ideal course of action," the lord clarified.

"And what would that be?" Nike inquired.

Satan seemed pleased by the question, as his prideful chin rose higher.

"We shall take the fight to God himself."

Hearing that, hit the demons like a whip. Amon felt the coil of apprehension snake around his lungs as his breathing became somewhat stunted. A glance darted between the lovers before Amon found the means to open his mouth and speak again.

"Take the fight to God? Doesn't that seem a tad bold to you?"

A chuckle emitted from Satan, "It would appear that way. You must see though, God likes to think he knows everything, he would never suspect such an action from an army like our own."

"Yes, and for good reason. Our kind is at a disadvantage compared to theirs. This sounds like a suicide mission. God will simply wipe us out upon declaration of war," Amon protested.

The blonde being's hands rose coming together and allowing his chin to settle on his knuckle's peak. He had tepid features as his eyes rolled over the two.

"Yes, in any other circumstance that would be true, but we have something God himself fears. That being you Amon. Fear is not something God often contends with. I want to see his fright and feel his hesitancy. We will fight in the glory of his own light and make it our own, we will make a mockery out of him as he had done to us!"

The angel's voice and gestures became more expressive and grander as he spoke. The delight he took in this plan he had composed was evident, and in the demon's eyes overwhelming, to say the least.

Amon shifted in his seat, and he could see Nike was about to explode with distaste. As a matter of fact, before he had a moment at all she was already speaking up.

"Well, isn't that just nice? Basking in the glory of war and victory, while standing in the blood of both friend and foe. But what does that matter when you feel the warmth of such honorable light shining down upon you. You won, nothing else in the world matters!" she exaggerated. Her face crossed immediately after presenting her true feelings. "I once lived for this. There is nothing noble about it. It's hollowing and superficial and the weight of those you sacrificed to get there will pull you down for the rest of your life. We do not need to throw our soldier's bodies at the enemy to win this war. I say we think of a new and better plan, to Hell with the bells and whistles, all we need to do is neutralize this threat with as little casualty as possible."

Satan's pale and motionless body could have easily been mistaken for a delicately carved stone. The only semblance of sentience that passed over him in those critical moments was the ever-creasing of his honed stare. Those eyes locked to her with a deathly glare.

The air in that room had become nearly toxic to breathe the strain ran so high. Amon's ears pulled inward as he tilted his body carefully, attempting to shield her from where he sat. The lord noticed.

In one swift breath, the stifling sense in the room had evaporated as Satan sat back, returning to his much more welcoming means. It was as if all the unrest he had radiated was all sucked back to where it had come with one inhale.

"You make a very wise and experienced point Nike, but I must say, experience can deceive us. It can lure even the mightiest and most successful generals into a state of underestimation. The foe we face is much different than any of the others you have ever encountered."

Nike hardly reacted; she wouldn't want to give him such gratitude. Her feathery tuffs simply fell back, and her face remained hard. She didn't believe a word, but there was also no evidence she could call upon to prove it.

Amon assessed her emotions, knowing the discomfort she felt. He himself wasn't the most at ease, but he worried for her. His hand rubbed at her back as he tried to reach her eye line.

"Are you alright dear," he whispered. She met his sights and the instant she did, so her harshness melted away. Discretely she leaned closer to him, attempting to whisper in his ear.

"Amon, I don't trust him."

"I know, I don't completely either, but he is the only one who knows the enemy so well. I think it best I hear out his suggestions at the very least. Would you perhaps like to wait outside and collect yourself?" the beastia gingerly offered. Her bottom lip protruded as if to pout, but even then, it was noticeable on her face she did not dismiss the notion.

Across the table the angel's small wings twitched, listening as closely as possible. Through their faint breath, he gathered the gist of their conversation. He eyed Jenny, signaling for her to find her way to the door. That was all it took for his assistant to move into action, as she floated to the room's entrance.

Nike and Amon both heard the doors squeal into an open position. The harpies gaze tapered; she didn't like their added aid in this matter. Her mouth was set and ready to lash out and confront the lord on his eavesdropping, but the sensation of Amon's strong hand at her back coaxed her into relaxation. Even then she did not wipe away her appearance of contempt.

"See to it you do what you believe is right, Amon," she said as she at last lifted from her seat. At her core she knew this was not her fight, and all she could ever do was direct her lover. With a hopeful heart, she garnered the strength to leave that table, to remove herself from such an irksome situation.

"I always will dear," he replied seeing the smile she allotted to him alone. It took seconds before Jenny and Nike found themselves at the opposite end of that door, only leaving the last two participants remaining.

"She is a bright demoness; you should be very lucky to have such a mentor around. But unfortunately, beings of the Earth can only understand Earthly matters. She could never know the information I possess, nor would she understand the way both you and I could. No mortal could really. That is why both you and I saw it best to see her dismissed, for her own sake that is," Satan spoke in a clinical tone.

Amon didn't express himself to be as perceptive to the lord's words as one may have hoped. He sat there staring him down, with a coarse look.

"Don't discredit her or other mortals so frivolously. I have learned many things I would have never considered if not for them. Now go on, tell me what you know, that is the reason I am here, after all, nothing more."

A miffed shudder slashed across the angel's person. It was so quick Amon barely even acknowledged it. Now comfy on Satan's lips sat a bemused smile. It was untrustworthy, but hard to describe exactly why.

"Right, forgive my presumptions," the unholy lord muttered. "Surely though you see my point. God is a pompous creator, and using that pride against him will be our victory."

Amon adjusted himself in his seat buying some time for contemplation.

"I see what you're saying, but God is such an immense being, I'd think he would not allow himself to fail by something so trivial. I mean is he not supposed to be the most powerful thing there is?"

Satan's lip curled, "That's true, but then again, he was afraid of you, now, wasn't he?"

The great devil sat back, being genuinely stumped by the reminder. In all his lifetime, God was always this untouchable force, even beyond him, but perhaps his perception had been all wrong. He crossed his arms over his immense chest and pondered. Could he really be the true rival to God? Yes, he had always heard others claim so, but it never felt tangible. That was never how he saw himself, but maybe now, it could actually be true. Maybe he and God were not so different, maybe even God questions himself.

Solemnly he lifted his view, "Look, I'll hear you out Satan. I'm just not particularly fond of this plan. How's about we construct a new one. Maybe we could use you as a distraction and then I could come in from the shadows leading the rest of the demon army? That way we can still use your tactics while also harboring a surprise attack."

The opposing side took a moment in garnering a response. He seemed dubious and thoughtful as his figure became so stiff, he could be mistaken for dead. The reaction that cracked his demeanor was an unexpected one. He chuckled through a smirk staring at Amon as if he were an adorable child.

"Perhaps we could reconstrue a few things, but those kinks will have to be worked out in time. I believe your celebration is in order next, and of course, we'll have to be getting to some more training," Satan eased his form.

The demon was shocked to see how well his counterpart had taken the suggestion. It was too easy in fact. Deep down his trust waned but for the time being, he nodded along and counted his fortune.

"I am grateful for your selfless decisions Amon, I have high prospects for our future," he came to his feet. Lifting his arm he gestured for the devil to go before him. Hesitantly, the guest arose walking alongside the angel as they made their way to the large impending doors.

"What about you Amon? Would you not agree?" the question was posed flatly. Satan faced ahead, seeming completely unphased, even though something about the quarry felt off to the beast.

Amon did not attempt any eye contact, instead, his vision drifted to the floor softly.

"…I hope so."