· · · · · · ·
Life had almost gone back to normal and wham, war with the gods. Right on top of her head. Wonderful. Amazing. Exactly the sort of thing she'd normally teleport away from, but now she had a job with complications. Dammit.
Cerberus had a spot in the hills where she had installed a long distance communication beacon for quick updates to Helheim. The beacon was weak, not enough to really teleport independents, but also weak enough to avoid human magic trackers, and the thing itself was in a cave one could only teleport into. The screen flickered on at command, revealing Lucifer on his throne. Still reading the same book, of course, and radiant as ever — he'd fallen without the grueling process and so retained his divine aura. She always had to stare because pretty, even now.
"Lord Lucifer, may chaos spare you. We have a slight situation," she said.
He didn't even look up from his book. "And what would that be?"
It wasn't like he'd smite her instantly or anything. He'd just be very disapproving and that was almost worse.
"We're pretty sure that human heritage offers resistance to the green stuff and Azazel planned a rebellion to defeat Charioce with this hybrid that he found. It didn't work. Charioce captured Azazel and put him in the arena. He's surviving, but ... Heaven also has a hybrid now. They're going to attack. We could use the chaos to break into the arena, but we could use help, if you please?"
Lucifer looked up by now, his eyes boring into her. "Why didn't you tell me before it failed?"
"Well, you see, we had an agreement. If his rebellion worked and I helped out, I'd get a few things I really wanted. I figured you wouldn't send armies anyway, so we went ahead with it using only local people. And uh, I was afraid you'd shut it down."
"And then you wouldn't get what you wanted."
A silence fell, long enough for Cerberus to risk a subdued, "Lord Lucifer?"
"What do you expect me to do? Get countless of my people killed trying to save just one?"
"No! I have new fighters in place."
"Hybrids again?"
"Pacted humans also work," Cerberus said. "I wouldn't mind some reliable back up, but it's really the ability to get away that we need. He's kept in a place with walls charged with Dromos—"
"Dromos?"
"Oh, yeah, it turns out that's the name of the green stuff. That bounty hunter god told us."
"Can't he do anything?"
"He disappeared some time during the strike."
"As you all should have done when you had the chance. That hybrid should have been brought to me first thing."
"We initially didn't realize it was an immunity. Azazel just thought she was that powerful."
"The point stands. Anything else?"
"You're really not going to help, lord Lucifer?"
"I will not," he said. "They've got ways to cancel out immediate teleportation, it will likely do the same with gates, and I will not send more to their death."
"But the humans will be busy fighting the gods, there will be less enemies around!"
"You don't understand gods if you think that makes it safer for us. Whatever you do, don't be seen."
He shut the connection.
Dejected she popped back into her home.
Nils was in the foyer, fretting when he should be packing. She'd picked him cause he was one of those few him humans who more or less bothered to care about demons, so she didn't want him dead. He even paid them.
"Why are you still here? Get out! The gods will kill you if they win and find you colluding with demons!"
"Oh, are you sure? They are the gods, they won't kill a harmless old guy, right? I really don't want to go out there ... "
"No, they absolutely will." She grabbed the nearest bags and shoved him onto the street. "Dietlinde, you too, get the hell packing and scram!"
"I'm still a fugitive, bitch!" came from the restaurant.
Her core group came down the stairs.
"No luck. Al Miraj, anything useful you can tell us?" As a fallen moon rabbit, she might have some clue on Vanaheimr's methods. "Times, maybe?"
"Gabriel will not have made that announcement if she did not already have an army ready," Al Miraj said. "She will not give orders to target demons, but if they have survived Charioce, the judges will not hesitate to strike us down."
"Get me some nice positives in here," Cerberus grumbled. "Anything nice like a little skyship we can crash close to the arena or anything?"
Al Miraj shook her head. "Afraid not. There will be only one ship, their very best."
Not much use from them in getting azhole outta there either.
"Alright, you girls stay here and fortify. I'm keeping my eyes open for a safe route to my cave once the evacuation is over."
What else to do?
Belphegor's trio had been informed of her survival and her likely plans to break open the arena a little bit, and been told to stay out of the way. They were trivial, though Adva was told to hang out outside in case her flight was needed.
Durahanem had been taking care of the tiny hippogryph and the carriage of the gods. Cerberus had found it near the end of the trail to Bacchus and Hamsa, hiding in a crevice. It'd been convenient to take along, but she'd since been unable to grow it back to normal size. If she could though, the plan was to load it with Azazel and anyone else likely to attract a purg, with the enemy knowing he was gone. She had Durahanem take the set out anyway and told her to wait around the arena, in case Azazel's godly heritage could make a difference.
"Trismegistus, Walfrid!" When no answer came, she followed their scent down to the brothel's restaurant, where they were having a feast just between themselves and Dietlinde. They both got anxious during silence and constantly sought stimulation, so keeping them in one place was difficult. She jostled them into moving.
Favaro was asleep on a table in the attic like nothing was wrong. She almost considered trying right then and there to figure out physical pacts, which could be forced. But nah. She wasn't Martinet, it wouldn't work.
That all set, she figured she'd let the world burn and consider it done. If Lucifer would punish her later, if that time ever came, there was little else she could do to soften the blow now.
· · · · · · ·
Among the former king's other bastards, Boruck was the most promising soon to be -soon-to be Charioce XVIII. Charioce XVII signed the order to recognize his royal lineage, which would have him brought into the palace and given further education. Boruck wasn't entirely a stranger to the court, having been among the candidates for the throne ten years ago. Charioce had convinced him to abdicate, and the man had been smart enough to recognize the trail of harassment and bodies he might otherwise have joined.
It was last minute to introduce him to the power of Dromos, but it would have to work out, if he himself didn't survive.
The form signed, he sat back and looked out of the window, allowing himself a moment of rest.
His eyes fell on the island, visible just barely through the window. She'd be there, toiling under the rocks until her soon to come death. No doubt the giant Dromos would level the entire island, crushing her along with everyone else.
... he could evacuate the island. The workers could be useful elsewhere. She could be useful elsewhere. Order knew he could use the money from selling her, or even renting her out. The issue of her rebellious voice could be fixed.
She didn't have to die. He could fail this test without catastrophic consequences, or so it seemed.
If only she had never entered his life, he wouldn't be tormented by these choices. He had all the power of the world at his beck and call, it was so easy to stray from his goal.
Chris raised his hand and a servant approached. So easy to command them the message for an evacuation to be set in motion.
The servant waited.
He cast another look at the island. Memories of their dances, their meetings and her laughter played through his head. His heart sped up, treacherous with wishing for her return. The simple, empty joy she represented.
All he had to do to be rid of this weakness was nothing.
The servant still waited, eyes respectfully down.
"Never mind," Charioce said.
· · · · · · ·
Favaro woke up from a nap feeling rather more urgent about saving Nina. It wasn't anything big, and it wasn't anything new, he wouldn't have paid it any heed if he didn't know as he did.
Amira sat opposite of him at the coffee table he'd been leaning on, a serious look on her currently demonic face. She had that determined, worried fate is up to something look, but unlike usual, she didn't move.
He pulled out an earlier picture of Nina on the island. She just nodded and tapped two fingers straight down, the gesture for now.
It wasn't out of character for himself to consider any of what he had considered just now. That was the devious part of it. Nothing about the mechanics of fate was really noticeable. Mostly. He'd never really been able to make sense of some of the decisions of the gods and demons ten years ago.
It didn't always serve to defy fate just for the sake of defying it, but that didn't stop him from fretting over it. Did he really determine his own life? Did fate adjust to his inclinations or steer them outright? Was fate using that he wanted to save Nina, or was him wanting it fate? There were plenty of people within this world that weren't suspecible to direct influence by fate. For all its power, it hadn't been able to either predict or prevent the birth of Gilles De Rais.
One thing that wouldn't do for either him nor fate was to stall. He wanted Nina saved, fate wanted it, and they wanted it now.
The obvious thing to do would be to jump onto a boat and rescue her himself. Who knew what would happen on the island? He had a few smoke bombs, Amira to serve as extra eyes, and potentially fate. But that's where decisions came in. That'd be what fate wanted.
Maybe he could try something else.
What little he knew of the standard demonic pact came from Amon, who had been free to go about his life and retain his powers. If Azazel had any strong hold on him through magical means, it wasn't apparent in the way Martinet's infection had been. Amon just stood to risk losing his powers and possibly life if Azazel hadn't liked what he'd done. Cerberus might be a similar threat, or not. She was rather more airy.
There was the question whether him stalling taking that pact was also fate, and to what degree the idea actually depended on there being a distracting chaos to accompany a jailbreak. Ah well. He got up, found Cerberus amid the packing up and said, "Yo, I changed my mind. I'll make a deal with you and help you with whatever thing you want to do in this city if you go rescue Nina."
· · · · · · ·
The chants were audible before they even past the forest between castle and upper district.
"No war with the gods!" Over and over, until they reached the gates of the castle itself. They'd never get through, but the noise was a bother, and worse, an insult to the sovereign power.
"Silence them," Kaisar said.
Dias nodded and went to give the organize exactly that. It didn't take long before the lower knights marched out, and went to work on the citizens. No swords, but beatings and kicks in armor cause plenty of lessons.
Kaisar kept an eye on the event from up the walls, to ensure they didn't go too far, which was where Athos joined him. The man's skills had gotten him a high rank among the knights, but no official leadership role yet. Simply, too good to waste on this.
This man now grimaced at the sight. "Teutoikas has the potential for grandness, this is unbefit to it."
"Surely peace will return after his majesty's victory," Kaisar said, as befit to his station. Never question the king openly.
"These are our people, foolish however they be. Such treatment is to be reserved for demons," he said.
"My knights were trained as per the instructions of the king. Revolt must be met with strict countermeasures."
"That was a peaceful protest," Athos said.
"I won't be once it gets out of control. These are just the early stages," Kaisar said. "Better to subdue them now than after the war."
Athos gave him a long, cold look and walked off, muttering something about the king just wanting silence.
A little later, Lao in dragon form swooped over the walls and landed on the wide street. That got the crowd to disperse without further violence. Kaisar felt a twinge of regret he hadn't thought of this.
· · · · · · ·
The gods only had a single warship, but El was assured it was all they needed. Gabriel was pricklier than usual though, and El wondered how much needed meant. Not that ne knew much about it, nur mother had never said much about warfare.
Under Gabriel the general was Badb Catha, an angelic war goddess. Maybe it was the kind of specialization Bacchus and Hamsa had spoken of. She was another one of the rare gods who still could, despite the lack of faith, invoke the energy inaccessible to most. If so it was a little strange though that war would be something that could fuel heaven.
Urlain, Reinier, Baldr, Camael and Martiel were the five core warriors who would advance on the city. They'd be flanked by a second wave of common soldiers led by Dione, Schwertleite, Surtr, Gracchus and Shiva; the latter three not winged but competent enough with a floating platform to be reliable.
Surtr and Camael had the ability to control fire. Most of heaven did not burn easily, but the city would. A smokescreen, Badb Catha said. El worried in silence. Sure, the city would be evacuated, but didn't people have to live somewhere afterward? They had a dragon anyway and all the related wing magic anyway.
There were ways to fight that avoid so much damage, and people who at least somewhat thought of it. So El spoke up.
"I want to take down the arena first," El said. "If we free the slaves there will have a lot of extra soldiers."
El couldn't pin point why it was unpleasant to say anything that didn't mesh with Gabriel, but it was a feeling ne got fed up with.
"Those slaves are all demons, El," Gabriel said evenly.
"Yes, it's where they keep the strongest," El said. "They'll help."
"Lady Gabriel, the demons have aided us before against Bahamut," Sofiel said.
"They only did so at the last minute, when they had no choice," Gabriel said. "We will not be adding trouble to this delicate operation, and I wonder what makes you desire such trouble. Perhaps it has anything to do with someone in the arena?"
Everyone stared, and it was that same uncomfortable, judged feeling as when humans looked too long.
"We will talk of this later," Gabriel said. "All you have to do is go out there, and from your safe distance disable the enemy's accursed power. All else will be handled by gods who know what they are doing."
None of the others heeded El. They didn't even really wait for Gabriel to finish talking as they filed out.
"Make sure not to touch the arena," Gabriel said, after them. "We cannot use the extra problems."
A few stopped and acknowledged it, then it was just El, Gabriel, Sofiel and the pilot in the central room.
· · · · · · ·
Jeanne's voice had gone dry hours ago. She'd kept talking, but it became less and less. Nina didn't ask her anymore to keep talking, not if it hurt.
By the time the torches had burned out and a little bone stuck out of her bloody knuckles, it was clear the cells weren't going to be emptied today by the guards. All the better for them. Nina could still see because the pink glow surrounded her. Just weak tendrils, not strong enough to pull her to the other side yet, like her instincts were on high alert. Couldn't change into a dragon, not here, but locking it up entirely wasn't good either.
Try again. And again, and again, until her power was sharp. All her force used to lift, concentrated on one point. She couldn't make it a knife, but she could limit the range of a whole boulder to one point.
The screws at the edge of of the door squeaked. Nina gasped with the first sting of victory. Perhaps she hadn't outright cracked the rock, but it was something. She went all the way to the back of her cell and ran right ahead, launching a kick at it.
With a loud clang, the entire steel wall fell down. Nina was at Jeanne's cell right away, setting her hands between the bars. Pushing with all her strength, she bent them apart. Jeanne was so thin, she managed to squeeze through without much effort.
When out, Jeanne held out a map. "The work of years."
Nina smiled and leaned over, letting the dim light of herself shine upon it. "Oh, you can draw well!"
They ran down the hall, into the upper levels. Nina was ready to fight whoever came their way, but nobody met them. Even if something exploded, they would just be put to work elsewhere, so it couldn't be that. But Nina hadn't been here that long.
"Where are the guards?" Nina asked. "Rachel said there never were days off ... "
"They just left some time during the night," one of the prisoners around them said. "Say, glowy girl, can you get us a key?"
"I know where the main station is, they may still have the keys there," Jeanne said. "Nina?"
"Of course!"
Jeanne gave her directions along with the map, and Nina ran.
The torches had gone out everywhere, so her glow was the only light. The guard stations were all abandoned too. Nina grabbed all the keys and every torch and lighter she found, stuffed them in a bag and hoped people could read the tags to know which went where.
Jeanne met her halfway and led her to the cell block where Rachel was first; said she wanted someone she knew could help organize the outbreak. Nina didn't really get it, wasn't everyone gonna run?
When they stepped into this hall, a lot of murmurs rose from the dark.
"I think I see scales ..."
"So there really was a demon sentenced here!"
"Enough!" Jeanne called. "Nina is in the same place as all of us, and if you ever reach freedom it will be because of her."
Nina reached into the bag and pulled out one of the keys.
The women quieted. Jeanne set a fresh torch on a holder and after finding the right key, she started unlocking the cells. One by one took long, so Nina went to the other end of the hall to do things her way.
Jeanne took control of the emerging group, choosing the strongest and sending them off to unlock the other blocks. To Nina's surprise, she was good at compelling people to cooperated, she hadn't imagined it from her subdued ways.
Rachel got the rest of her crew out, and Nina got some more suspicious looks. Once Jeanne had chosen a few more sub leaders, she gathered them in a group and said, "We are on the eve of war with the gods. If we get out, it may very well be into the middle of a siege. Many of you have these green gems leeching on you. If you come across a god who feels threatened by it, tell them you are an ally of me, Jeanne d'Arc."
"How do you know there's gonna be a siege?" Rachel asked.
A few muttered disbelief she was even Jeanne d'Arc at all, but Jeanne said, "Did you hear rumor Charioce recently visited? They're true. He wanted to persuade me to call off the war, because someone I know is a key figure. I rejected, of course. This is a chance to get off the island, but also a reason for concern. A siege shouldn't mean that all stations are deserted. We must be prepared for something unusual, so report to me or any of the subleader anything out of the ordinary. Understood?"
"Yes, saint Jeanne," more than a few said. Nina saw a bitter twitch on Jeanne's face, which she smoothed away quickly.
· · · · · · ·
"And my father was beaten up when he attended a protest. He can't walk right, let alone help pull what we hope to secure," Felicia said. "Are we even going to make it up the hills? I'm sure the captain can arrange something for you, but who am I to impose?"
The housekeeper clearly wanted to impose, Belphegor knew. "Hard topic to breach, isn't it? Dear captain, you ordered my father beaten, now help him get out? I could breach it for you, if he shows up today at all."
"Oh, he won't," she said, picking back up the basket of sheets she'd been collecting. "He never does when there's big things going on. And this is bigger than anything yet. A war with the gods! Honestly what is the king thinking?"
Felicia ended up declining an offer to help packing, so Belphegor let her legs rest a little more before she had to leave. There was expected to be a lull after one or the other side won, then she would move. The siege itself she wouldn't risk. After that, whatever happened, she would be gone. Belphegor had been here a little over three weeks, the fact that she could walk without crutches at all would rouse suspicion, she wasn't gonna risk longer anyway.
One of Cerberus's dogs had dropped by with the message there would be helped and she better have some bombs, little more. Tasro and Rocky would have to go somewhere. She had nowhere to send them, though many a child had found their way to the slums on their own, and Tasro was healthier now after good sleep and food. They'd be alright, probably. Wishing that was all she could afford.
She was just in the middle of folding up her little laboratory when something dark flickered into being, opposite of her spot at the table. Belphegor froze.
Horns sprouted where her eyes would have been once. Dark gray, and leather wings, plates covering her at random. A fallen angel who had given into chaos entirely, uncanny in ways that had no immediate cause.
"Who are you?" Belphegor whispered.
"A curious one." That felt absurd at once, because only people — not things and phenomenons — could be curious.
Tasro clutched at her arm, Belphegor felt the same need to hold onto someone. This thing was ...
Gone already.
Indescribable, she wouldn't even know whether it was hollow or malicious or obsessed.
After time she couldn't measure, spent shaking, the door opened and Felicia stumbled in.
She shook just as much as she said, "Did you see it? Did you?"
"Yeah, we did," Tasro said while Belphegor still sought her voice.
"I thought this accursed mist made us see illusions, but I suppose there isn't enough in here ..."
Belphegor had no way to contest that without revealing herself, and little interest either. Her own curiosity didn't stand up to how wrong that whatever had been.
· · · · · · ·
The distant crowd outside didn't mean anything to him, humans roaring over one or another thing. He'd heard the rumor of the war. Mugaro might show up today if the gods were so foolish to bring her out here. Would she bother coming here, had they already told her of his past? He might find out soon. He might not. Mugaro might die too, and he couldn't even wish to go back to the days when something like that hadn't mattered to him.
A circle appeared on the ceiling, where the power of Dromos was not directly installed. Out of it leaked an oily form that hardened into someone only barely recognizeable as a fallen angel.
He'd heard of her as Angra Mainyu.
Once her presence would have set him on high alert, now he couldn't muster to care.
"You found a way to fall deeper." Her voice was dry as the moon, all life wrung from it. "And you left your sworn brother. Why?"
"Who cares."
"Ironically, I do."
"Don't lie, you never do."
"I always do." With that she vanished, and he was too tired to even think about what was up.
· · · · · · ·
The city grew quiet during the evening, the evacuation complete save for the demon zones. Now, the much renowned Olivia made her first official entrance to Cerberus by just sitting in a poofy chair, with tea one of Cerberus's girls had served. That seemed enough of a truce sign, albeit rude — she hadn't been invited — so Cerberus figured she might as well ask.
"No, I will not help you on such a silly errand," Olivia said. "Honestly, I am too busy."
"Aren't you allied to lord Lucifer?"
Olivia tilted her head. As if. "I am aware of you and your lord's loyalty to the morning star and while I greatly respect either, I owe them not my energy."
"Lord Lucifer might not like it if he learns we left his favorite general rot."
"Freeing anyone from the arena shall be redundant once I am done with my efforts," Olivia said. "And with all due respect, the morning star has done little more than represent the chief of the moderate faction by grace of being the most powerful entity within. He had ample time to unite the scattered tribes under his rule, yet he still lives in his library. The allies of the bygone lord of flies drift as they ever do, while the morning star's own allies scarcely have grown greater loyalty to him. Even the scapegoat went his own way."
"Uh huh," Cerberus said. "And where does that put you?"
"Here." She sat back with a content smile. "The abyss gains greatly from the one who has no leader, yet the earl of lies starves in his wake. I desire an outcome where both my dearest allies thrive."
"Call'em by their names already, I don't know all these titles."
Olivia just kept stirring her tea like she hadn't heard a thing. Cerberus had been in her presence for mere minutes and hated her already, even though she had no solid reason. Just the way she did things.
"I suppose you didn't come here just to turn me down. What was that about, when your servant came by to check out whether spiderweb burns, hmm?"
"It was for the purpose of a coalition of powers."
Olivia snapped her fingers. From the shadows emerged a humanoid man with the head and legs of a fanged deer, thick antlers and batlike wings that appeared crafted from wood more than flesh and bone. From the membrance hung arms, while the withered lower body dragged after with a burning tail. Stringy white hair fell down from its head and its eyes were pitch black, framing a sense of agelessness. Jarring to the infernal appearance was the soft edge of white feathers across the frame of the wings.
Cerberus whistled. "Now that's a nasty piece of work. Nice. Where'd you find that one?"
"The scrapyard," she said, which prompted snickers from the demon.
"Do you have a name you can tell me? Something that isn't a fancy title?" Cerberus asked him.
"Furfur," it croaked.
"Right," Cerberus blinked. "On second thought maybe you should stick with whatever title she gave you."
"Do pardon me, but are the names of your little dogs not something of similar tone?" Olivia asked. "Where are they, anyway?"
"They are cute, it fits them!" she said. "And they're running errands because I have my priorities right at least."
Olivia shrugged. "Well, I may have those errands include not coming into my way."
"Don't get in mine either," Cerberus said. "And we should get along just fine."
"Ah, a deal? Naturally. I have no spite with the hound of Hades." She crooked her finger. "Weaver, I shall have your service tonight, because indeed, she does not need you as I do."
Cerberus narrowed her eyes. Forced or not, she had taken in this miserable lot. They were hers now.
"Or do we have spite?" Olivia asked.
Sort of only. It wasn't her rebellion. "No, we do not."
Arachna inched forward and Olivia opened a gate for them. Furfur pulled Arachna through it, while Olivia teleported away.
A coalition for what, exactly?
· · · · · · ·
Oh dear, not so good. Adva withdrew the tendril of water from the ceiling and sat up. "None of them are making plans to help the slums, and Arachna's gone."
Kolraun and Durahanem looked ready to throw any plans, and she couldn't blame them. Durahanem at most had physical strength, which at most helped in digging people out of rubble afterward. She could ask Tipa to share the song, but she hadn't really joined the rebellion, and Adva knew all too well isn't fair to ask for aid from those just trying to survive. Bringing Tipa out into a war zone wasn't something she was keen on anyway.
There were some others though, based on rumors she'd heard in her life cycling through castles of high lords. She suggested the other two remain in place and went alone.
They were at their usual elevator spot still; Malphas smoked and Divesepid chewed some animal carcass while looking all too calm. Had to be the ages.
"Hey," she said softly. "A word, please."
Malphas lowered her bottle and glared. Swallowing her nervousness, Adva pointed at the wall. The riverside of the ghetto were walls that lay way below the water surface. Only solid magically enforced rock prevented the rivers from eroding it away.
"If anything of that breaks, this place is going to flood," she said. "We can't expect the gods to be careful. Malphas, I heard that in your glory days you specialized in construction. Is this true?"
Malphas looked skyward and grudgingly said, "I suppose."
"I can deal with the water a little, help us fortify the earth, please."
"Well ... it's not strictly speaking rebellion," Divesepid said. "And we do need living customers."
"Bah. Alright." Malphas planted her bottle down too hard and it shattered. "But we're out the moment the gods so much as look funny at us."
· · · · · · ·
Preparations for war kept Kaisar to late hours at the castle, which met its end when Charioce gave speech. His words were of glory, of ascending to their proper place in the world, of pride. One line stood out in particular which Kaisar could not shake.
"This war has no room for knightly chivalry. Our differences require merciless, unrelenting harshness to be met. Rid yourself of obsolete ideals."
Besides him, Dias gave forced cheers while Allesand hollered with all of his might. Down with the gods, a sentiment much stronger in the castle than on the streets.
If there was one thing that both sides had in common now, it was that they called his ideals obsolete. How could he side with either, when these ideals were the very foundation of his life?
When he returned home on a bad whim, Belphegor was filling up a backpack. Rocky darted over the table to help her; he had slipped into the role of assistant with practiced ease.
"Did you actually discover anything useful from that rock?" he asked.
Scientist mode tickled, Belphegor forgot packing at once. "I don't know! If I break it down to its components, I get a bunch of random conductive elements. All conductives that mean nothing when put together. Most of them are things I can find around your house. Silver, iron, wood dust. Amber is the only thing I couldn't find here, but it doesn't have special properties anyway. It shouldn't make a difference." She ran a hand through her messy hair. "I know I'm missing something big, it's not some kind of inherent magic. It's more like it invokes something, so that might be blocked. But it also means I can't really examine it in detail."
Having no clue what any of that meant, he set it aside and said, "Felicia is still packing down there. Following her you might be able to get out of the city within the chaos and it wouldn't look strange right now to go around cloaked."
"No, she's gonna be busy helping the father that you ordered beaten up," she said, resuming her packing. "Anyway, I will be leaving, but on my own. Lord Azazel might survive the arena, but not any gods who feel like culling us while we are weak. Especially if they recognize him."
She stood up on weak legs, tied the backpack in place. The table was mostly cleaned up, the canister closed and the tools either stored or poking out of the backpack. He couldn't stop her, now she had reason to expect empty streets. Whatever she did probably would get people killed, so it still felt like he ought to stop her. Matter of duty. That probably didn't matter to those locked in the arena, though.
As she closed the last straps on her backpack, she asked, "And what are you going to do this fine night?"
"The king says we must fight without honor, but I think—"
"Spare me that. I can't hold your honor and it seems you yourself can't even do anything with it," Belphegor said. "I meant about Azazel. Despite the odds, I'd hoped you'd help."
"Tonight? I could have arranged something on longer terms, maybe when the arena gets a new batch of fighters, but ..."
She didn't have to cut him off this time, her sharp look was enough. Enough postponing, he guessed.
"I have to defend my capital against the gods," he said instead. "Surely you understand this is a crisis situation."
She didn't answer at first, leaning down with the child, giving instructions on what to do after the streets were empty. When she stood, she looked him right in the eye.
"So you will fight even the gods? I don't expect your care for the demons, your alleged chivalry aside, but the ancient ally of humankind? Doesn't it at all bother you to learn that your king holds captive your captain, the chosen saint of the gods?" Belphegor asked. "What was she to you, if anything? Nothing, just like the gods?"
Kaisar had done a very good job at not thinking about that right until now. He chose to just answer the last part.
"She was my captain and the saint of our people. She led us to many a victory even without her lost magic, a skilled leader. The people loved her and she inspired them, as she did us."
"A hero, an idol, I see. Was she your friend too, or your adviser, your comrade? Whatever it must be, it can't be greater than what you feel for Charioce XVII. Come on, I have some time yet, I find your silence on your king more engaging than your honor. Answer me."
Quick, divert. "What is Azazel to you, that you risk yourself to save him?"
He didn't quite go as far as saying he would risk himself for his own king, how it was the same. Right?
"I admired Azazel because he came to our aid when we thought ourselves abandoned. I saw the decay of old indifference and the chance for our tribe to truly shine. Since then I've learned he's rotten enough to deserve the fear of humans, yet I wasn't entirely off. I would still call him savior, I might call him my friend too. What is he to you, that his fate concerns you at all? Can you at least answer that?"
"He destroyed my family, ruined my life, and would have had me kill my best friend. If I can forgive even him and live my life better, it is my strength. Other than that, he is but a wayward demon on my path."
"Ah, just your chivalry specified. Well, Charioce did all of that to me an thousands of others," she said. "He's still doing it. You have a luxury : you don't have to consider forgiveness while Azazel continues to target either you or others you care about. And I have one luxury you don't : regardless of what I think of Azazel, he is one of the few chances my people have while lord Lucifer is in ..." She didn't trust him enough to say where. "So I have no fretting to do over whether I should save him, and much to gain for my people. If you have not enough care for my people, you might at least consider what your saint can do for your own."
He stood stock still, staring at the table. It only held the open canister now, the gem within it shining dimly, and Rocky probably staring back.
Belphegor was almost out the door, but paused and leaned back to say. "Or you could go beat up a few more your citizens. Azazel never asked me to do anything like that. I wonder what I'm missing out on."
Then she was gone, staggering out of the house.
The child ran to the window and waved after her, but Rocky faced Kaisar with pinky and thumb crossed. The middle three fingers were crooked. Kaisar got the distinct impression of a judgmental frown.
"Don't look at me like that! What am I supposed to do? What can I do? I'm just a captain!"
Rocky pried the canister open, grabbed the gem and planted it in his palm. He pointed at Kaisar, back at the rock, then at himself, while the rock blended into the flesh.
Rita had often joked Rocky was their son, but once she's said it was part of him, given life on memories of the same source that made zombies under an illusion fog resemble the past, minus the fog. So when Rocky launched at him, crawled down his arm and settled in his old spot, he wasn't sure whether he really disagreed.
Beyond cooperation, this time it was merging. The rock pushed a sickening yet exhilarating rush up his arm, into his lungs, heart, further to his neck. He learned that the soul is only harnessed within a single organ in his head and all set askew in a way that had him see the edges of matter and magic. From the vessels of his blood to the pockets of energy that he might invoke to cast spells, to the fibers of his own mind. A vast realm of control at his disposal, but altogether lacking the knowledge to use most of it.
The invasive power coursed free through his body, bolstering what it saw fit and uncaring for the pain it caused. There was a mild tug in his forged arm that kept it from taking over entirely. Ultimately it was still Rocky, an independent being, that held the stone.
Kaisar had just long enough to remember that when Rita detached her arms she could launch and control it still, before Rocky anchored in the fabric of the world and pulled him out of the room. His head hit the doorway, but Rocky just kept pulling. All he could do was run after, past a baffled Felicia, stumbling over what she'd packed and out the door, onto his still saddled unicorn.
· · · · · · ·
Favaro sat in the crook of a chimney, observing the city and waiting for Amira.
Over the hills across the river, the clouds parted for a massive golden, radiant gate disc. Descending came a white ship of segments in a near complete circle. Nothing like the crude ships of hell, old rock mounted on skybeasts.
The king's armies went to war, shadowplay against the radiance. Any other time it might have been mistaken for light versus darkness, when the world was simpler.
A single bright star emerged from the ship's centerpiece at the end, while other segments released smaller points of light.
Front line were a giant alight with fire and a smaller angel with similar fiery reign. Not good, this city was as flammable as any. Smart, though. Maybe he'd have to get out of the city — the demons would be fine, he would not.
And then, just like that, the giant fell, as did his companion. It happened so swift and anti climatic he had to do a double take.
Yep, they really were down. Huh. None of the other gods descending met this fate. Looked like someone wasn't into competition.
· · · · · · ·
"What?" Gabriel said.
"Camael's gone," Reinier reported.
On the screen, Surtr buckled through his knees before being enfulged with purple energy dragging him under. She couldn't get a closer view, something blocked the magic.
"Reinier, report!" Gabriel asked.
"Some kind of demon" he said through the link. "They teleported too fast for us to see. What shall we do?"
"Proceed," Gabriel said without hesitation.
Sofiel wanted to scout this problem out, the fog was already suspicious enough, something was wrong. Granted, she couldn't tell what. For all she knew, this was her just sensing war. She knew war from theory, but had never dwelled on it, so she kept her tongue and worried in silence. Over everything. The outcome, El, Jeanne, and she didn't have enough heart to handle that all. So she just didn't think about it.
· · · · · · ·
The prison elevator was up, of course. No amount of strength would get it to stop being up, no one to threaten into lower it around.
"It's up by default exactly to counteract outbreak," Rachel said. "That's what makes this such an effective prison : the only two ways out are locked from the outside."
"What's the other way out?" Nina asked while forcing away the disappointment.
"The rock deposit, from years ago when they had demons hollow out the island," Rachel said. "It's unused except for when they bring in things, giant stone tablets according to the rumors. That hasn't happened for years now, but it's at water level so maybe you can punch it open. And I bet you'll have to."
When they arrived at the emptied quarry hole, Rachel turned out right : the entrance had been sealed up by collapsing it. They hadn't intended to bring in more of whatever it was, or bring it out again.
If Nina hadn't been starving and exhausted, she could have tossed the rubble aside with ease. This would take longer, but she went to work anyway. Over time more people drooped in to join at the sides, clearing rocks with makeshift levers. The glow around Nina faded, for better or worse.
· · · · · · ·
Allesand hated this. The gods plowed through soldiers, sorcerers and knights alike. The Onyx Knights were nowhere to be found. Kaisar had vanished, so here he was, hiding behind a wall with Dias. If Dias died too, Allesand would be in charge. He had wanted the glory, but not like this! He'd be dead sooner if they learned he was the leader. He'd be dead anyway if they got any closer!
And then, to make things worse, Kaisar showed up running through the hall with incoherent yelps. He had his hand raised, showing off a shining green gem.
Oh, that did it. "Why did he just get a promotion? It's not fair! He already has so much!"
Kaisar skitted to a halt before them, almost toppling over, his hand still raised. The green gem was ... was that a new hand? It came with regeneration powers too?
"Dias, where is the district master of the arena?" Kaisar asked.
"Dead," Dias said. "Where were you and why do you need him? How did you even get one of those things?... and a new hand?"
"It comes with the package," Kaisar said, dripping with pride no doubt. "Anyway, I need the spell for the zommorod floor trap."
"We could use you leading here," Dias said. Not what Allesand would have asked. Kaisar was probably on some super secret mission for the king now he had this promotion.
"Dias, please tell me where you think I can find the code."
Allesand would bet he could've done it just as well. It really wasn't fair.
· · · · · · ·
Charioce's troops fell like flies. The child's power was tremendous now he had wings, or perhaps it was guidance he had lacked before. It didn't just cut off the power of Dromos, it knocked out anyone it touched. Wyverns and riders alike went down, and even the skybeasts trembled under it. No more betting the father was Michael himself.
Well then. He stood up from his throne. "Prepare a route for my passage to the island. Prioritize over anything else, have Merlin be primary cover."
Imamu bowed before saying, "Your majest, please reconsider. You were never meant to wield Dromos twice."
Reconsider how, to what point? If he failed now, then he would have failed the second time. He would win.
"Must I repeat myself?"
"... No, your majesty."
· · · · · · ·
In lieau of that last boulder, Nina got her first breath of fresh air in weeks. It was still night. The river rushed on in cold, stirred by falling wyverns and their riders. A scorched giant lay a little bit off the shore, sending a sickening bloody scent over the water. Beyond was the city, its upper district burning a little, and the castle surrounded by stars.
Heedless a few people ran into the waves. Most of them were torn along and vanished below the waves.
"Damn fools. Nobody here's fit to swim," Rachel muttered. "We gotta get some of the boats they keep on the stairway side. Failing that, we can tear down the building atop, I doubt they took along the furniture."
"Once at shore we could steal a boat for the others," Jeanne said, but it didn't get much enthusiasm. Nina didn't blame them, why would they want to go back to the island after escaping?
A poof of sound from the halls caused everyone to turn around to the entrance. "Ah, I thought I heard something."
"Cerberus!" Nina ran up to her. "And Mimi and Coco. How did you find us?"
"The noise. We wre looking all over for you inside, but your blood all over the place was confusing. Too much Dromos too, I hate it," she said. "Anyway, hold still. This is going to eat my own energy."
Cerberus grabbed her by the arm, expanding her magic with a satisfied grin. "Good, this place has no anti teleportation. Hold still now ..."
Nina jerked loose, letting her last transformation power flare. Cerberus growled. "Don't do that, that's the kind of thing that blocks it!"
"It's supposed to," she said. "I'm not done here."
Cerberus cast a disdainful look at the humans. "Oh for chaos's sake. Really? Look, we got nothing useful, not even the carriage. You choose : leave with me, or rot here."
A silence fell, while Nina tried to think up an answer. No dragon; some of the freed men might've been attractive by they were too sickly now. Would Cerberus know how to kill her just slowly enough to trigger it? Could she even trust herself to bother swimming these people across?
"Cerberus? The Cerberus? Uh ... can you by any chance turn into a giant dog?" someone in the crowd asked.
"Yeah that one," Nina said. "It's her puppets that turn into giant dogs, though ... hmm."
"Hmm what?"
Nina snatched Mimi and Coco off her hands. "Hey, puppies, do you wanna help? We're just playing reverse fetch, you bring something away from the boss lady, got it?"
The plan was simple, have them drag people along as they swam, and Nina knew just the thing for that. Cerberus sputtered, but caved and sent her dogs along to the elevator.
A new cluster of people had gathered there, recently freed. Nina directed them to the fresh exist, while the dogs popped away to the top. Pretty soon they reappeared. "We loosened the bolts up there, give it a shot."
Nina broke open the cabin, braced a foot below a jutted rock and pulled at the chains. It brought down the entire upper platform, but she did get the chains.
Back at the riverside Mimi took one of the chains in her mouth, while the prisoners tried tying themselves to it as good as possible. Nina would hold up the chain for as long as possible. After range ended, they'd have to go underwater for a short bit, but Mimi assured them she could swim across quick enough to prevent drowning.
While Mimi walked into the water slowly to give the people holding onto the chain a chance to get used to the cold, the forest around Charioce's castle started burning.
Cerberus flicked her tail as she leaned on the edge, calm until she tensed up. "Oh hell. Everyone, back away from the entrance!"
"What's the matter?" Nina leaned around the edge.
A boat crossed the water at high speed, pulled by a large fish. On it stood a pale shape, cape waving in the winds. All around the divine armies gathered, forced off by a single but powerful magician on a dragon ... wait ... it was too dark to see, but didn't the shape match one of her village?
"What's the king doing here now?" Cerberus said.
Nina was torn between turning away and taking a dive. Instead of either, she took Jeanne by the arm and pulled her away from the crowd. Jeanne gave her a curious look, letting it happen.
"Whatever reason he's coming down here for can't be good. I'm going to help the people still back there. If I get captured ... " She pressed her lips together for a moment. "My full name is Ninati Navrátil. I can't be summoned on the basic name of a dragon or humans, but it should work with my specific name."
"I can't summon," Jeanne said.
"Oh. Okay ... but maybe you'll run into Rita. Please keep my name safe anyway, okay?"
Jeanne nodded. "By the gods, I will."
Cerberus still stared outside. Quickly, Nina grabbed a torch and went back into the tunnels.
· · · · · · ·
As he approached the island, Dromos began to awaken. The early momentum only pushed a single vein out of the earth, sporting the pilot platform. His sorcerers made a stairway of magic circles, which he ascended with a steady pace. Merlin held the enemy at bay well enough to allow him the concentration he needed.
The platform looked meager, just wood and metal. Only the control panel had a radiant green point. Taking seat, he stuck his hand into the glowing opening.
Dromos latched on. The trivial concern fell away when the barrage of sensation pushed into his mind. Familiar enough, it had been there the moment he put that bracelet on his hand, but this ... this was everything. He might as well be Dromos now. The force like an extension of his body, but not outright the muscle. Just the flesh. Uncontrollable yet, it encapsulated him, grew like a tree until top unfolded, producing a singular, gigantic sphere untouched by gravity. Himself the very heart of it.
Forced into his mind was every rock as it scattered under the touch of Dromos. A morbid, weak part of him wondered whether any of the corpses the black matter touched was Nina.
· · · · · · ·
Nina got lost halfway through, found a few more cells to open and got directions, only for a deafening roar to throw her off her feet. Dromos's power rippled through everything. The rock split open all around, the wood of the walkways splintered under solid darkness.
She turned and ran, no time to think, knew she couldn't get out. Nobody else could keep up, and even she was not fast enough.
A rock hit her in the back and threw her against the wall, just around the corner. She spun around and braced her hands against the mass, as if trying to lift it, pushing with all her might and magic to keep it from crushing her. She could lift boulders, but not herself out of this grave.
· · · · · · ·
He had to own it, both this power and the weaknesses of his heart were a distraction. The sphere was the muscle, controlled by the unique gem on his wristband. The cheat code, access to fast power if only his mind would bend it. He wasn't facing Bahamut as intended, but perhaps this was the exercise he needed.
And a worthy exercise it was. So many gods lined up to kill. Now that the world knew what he did, he couldn't ask for a better retaliation. The holy stood out in clarity, despite being surrounded by this mass. His left eye burned, and almost as if to match the way his power worked, Charioce's won left eye started to pulse with power.
Dromos geared up for battle. It sought a form and ... was going to take his hand. This was just silly. He was going to have a word with Chabrol about how this thing was built, and make sure he could use a more epic proxy next time, like his sword.
· · · · · · ·
The world tearing apart was a metaphor that no longer was worth using, when the truth of it was this. An abomination within the structure of life itself. The rising black mass unfolded into a gigantic hand, drawing together all the raw force of the foreign power. El could know no greater flaw in the world, though ne had yet to meet Bahamut.
"Dromos!" Gabriel cried out. She'd spoken of it before, warned of it, but hadn't believed humans would be able to create, let alone control it.
"Retreat! Everyone, return to the ship now!" Gabriel's voice echoed within the center and far outside.
The voice of Reinier came through, objecting indirectly. They were almost at the castle, and had reason to suspect Charioce might even be off the secure area; no diversion puppet under Merlin. Almost had won. Why retreat now?
"Why aren't they retreating?" Gabriel muttered.
El didn't know about the others, but had nur own reason clear enough. Finding use for neglected telekinesis, ne grabbed the control panel and squeezed. The flicker of an unused halo guided it to clarity and it exploded. Disbelieving, Gabriel turned around.
"No!" It wasn't that difficult anymore to sound harsh. "We haven't saved anyone yet!"
El stretched nur hands and seized the channels of the ship, pushing all nur power into it as a conductor. Nur left eye burned, pulsed, almost ached, but it had to be done. Now. Nur mother was on that island and that abomination was in the way.
"El, that is Dromos itself," Gabriel said. "A force of raw destruction on par with Bahamut, you cannot fight it like this!"
El smirked. "I can, and I will."
The giant hand forged a sphere of power, concentrated illness. El charged the entire ship with nur own power, found the cannon system, pushed it into a single ray.
The hand fired at the same time, meeting it into an explosive center. The shockwave sent the water rushing away, the trees crumbled, the warriors out the sky. El couldn't afford to help them, only focus on this ... this ...
Push it away, tear it back together, close the wound.
Let them watch. It wouldn't matter.
The green power pushed back, further and further, tearing the world and soon the people.
No. El would fix the world.
The angel with the pale orange hair stood by, eyes wide in shock, or perhaps pleading. Other vaguer shapes gathered by, watching El's power from beyond the veil.
El would fix the world.
The green ray approached, unraveling El's power at the seams. The watchers faded, the veil drifted away.
El would fix the whole world.
Dromos tore into the ship and fire burst into all directions, and El lost.
· · · · · · ·
Air grew thin. Her breath rasped in short bursts, her thoughts became unsteady.
Had to get out. No transforming in tight spaces. She would die either way. Her hands were only barely claws, maybe she could dig, but if she let go the rocks might crush her. Maybe the knees she'd braced too would hold.
Nina shifted her legs and carefully drew back one hand, trying to keep the crushing weight on the others.
It was enough of a loss to matter.
A crack in her other arm sent her screaming. Her legs crushed to her body, rock dug into her back and stomach and head and the light broke out — she fell into the lifelessness between dragon and human where she had no body to inhabit — stayed longer than normal — remembered having been here so often only now — the dragon broke free. And live.
Her flesh pulverized against the nigh unmoving rock, her bones broke, her skull cracked. Reflexively she turned back to human form. A mere second left to her to brace her legs against the rock collapsing back.
The world froze again around her, herself suspended with feet against an opposite wall, just barely lying against a steep slope. The transformation had pushed enough rock aside to crack a narrow opening above her, leaving in fresh air.
For a moment she was nothing but grateful for the frozen state, even as her legs started to hurt again and her knees might break anew. The opening was too far above, but since she always reappeared as human where her dragon head had been, she was further up than before.
The downside was that down was many meters below, so now she had to support not just the crushing rocks, but her own weight from dropping down.
The waves of the river crashed nearby, there were far away screams and a poofing sound right below.
"I figured that was you, ruff!" came somewhere down there. "Stupid girl, shouldn't have gone back in."
"Coco?"
"Yours truly. I'll have you out soon!"
· · · · · · ·
Adva collapsed against the broken pillar, not daring to look back. Both rock and water had rushed into the slums, far more than she could have hoped to stop. Whether Malphas had bothered to help she couldn't even tell. Her magic was voice based, better for wide range than dexterous use. She could halt waves and spin them elsewhere, but not really do much with it in the way she could with rain. This wasn't cleaning either, her hands were too small.
She stayed there, panting and a hand on her throat. On the opposite riverbank lay the broken ship of the gods. What remained of their armies was still airborne, now focused on the dimming monstrous hand. With all that demanding attention, she almost missed the white shape scurrying up her own riverbank, off to the left.
Mimi in her boney white monster form emerged from the water, a chain in her jaws that dragged on land a row of humans who clutched the chain. In the dark of the distant fire they were only shadows, save for the occasional green glint.
Adva landed before the dog. "What's going on?"
"Nina wouldn't let Cerberus try teleporting her away unless this lot was safe," Mimi snarled. "Honestly, if it wasn't important for the rebellion, we wouldn't bother. Look at this weak drag."
They were a mess, but for reasons similar to demons. Ragged, starved, beaten.
A middle aged woman stomped up from the chain's end, setting down someone she'd pulled out the water. "Rebellion, you said?"
"Rachel, no," someone sputtered, only to be ignored.
She stopped before Adva, a head taller despite standing a little lower. "You the welcoming comittee?" she rasped, half coughed.
"Uh ... actually. Yes. I'm here, and you're welcome to hide in the slums."
"Don't," Mimi whined.
Don't do this, don't do that. It had taken mere weeks to learn after they'd been abducted. Adva took a deep breath and grew her wings as large as she could, just to give herself some semblance of authority.
"We are of the demons of the anti Charioce rebellion." Okay, could've sounded more impressive, but it wasn't a whisper. "We had a blow ourselves not too long ago and are low on numbers. Interested in joining?"
"Man, you're blunt. Can we first get a roof over our heads, whether or not we join?" Rachel said.
"Will a cave wall do? It's rather collapsed and flooded, but we're working on it. Any enemy of Charioce is welcome, willing to fight or not."
"Then I'm in. The cave, and the rebellion." The woman held out a hand. "Name's Rachel."
Careful, she shook the human's hand. "Adva."
"You doing anything rebellious tonight?"
"We most certainly are."
"Actually, I don't think—" Mimi started, only to be pushed aside by Adva's wing.
"We're in the middle of getting our two best fighters, Nina and Azazel. Speaking of that, Mimi, where is Nina? And Cerberus?"
"Freeing more people, and you shouldn't be—"
"Of course I'm not organizing anything, just showing people the way around. We'll bring the most sick to the tunnels first. You can leave, I have it covered."
She gave the hell hound another wing shove and inwardly screamed at herself over what she was doing, but she did it anyway.
· · · · · · ·
The city lay deserted enough that Belphegor could go by horse, something her still sore legs needed. She had to make detours not for enemies, but the strange damage the gods had left. Frozen patches, strange glows, fields of swords. She didn't trust any of it and went around.
The gates to the arena were intact and none of the explosive spells she knew would take on the walls. She had a new gas bomb ready, but that was it. It was up to whomever Cerberus could add. In habit of things going askew, Cerberus did not show up at the designated area. Walfrid, Trismegistus and Favaro did; all wearing Orleans knightly outfits and on horse. She hadn't recognize them until Trismegistus gave the signal and entered her alley.
"It's us." Trismegistus held up her hand. "Face skin, hair color changes, curtsy of my concoctions."
Belphegor gave an appreciative nod.
"Hey, don't think we've met," Favaro said, holding out a hand. "I'm Favaro, and you are?"
"Belphegor," she said, shaking his hand. "Are you here to help, and if so, what can you do?"
"I've got some smoke bombs, excellent markmanship and a radar much better than highly visible pomerians." He handed her a paper with a layout of the arena.
The place was mostly evacuated, remaining were a skeleton crew just enough to keep the prisoners in place should something go wrong. Favaro had marked, somehow, where exactly clusters of guards were within the arena.
"He won't tell us how he gets this stuff," Walfrid said. "But Cerberus says he's gonna help so that's what we're betting on."
"I was gonna have us enter the dramatic way, but we're getting extra help ... right about now," Favaro said.
There was the sound of galloping ... in another street. Favaro sighed. "One moment."
Favaro darted to the edge of the street, made an owl's call and waited.
Not long after, a familiar unicorn and rider raced into the alley, Kaisar raising his hand for some reason and — by chaos what had he done?
The unicorn stopped, but Kaisar sailed off the saddle pulled by the zombie hand. He collided into the wall behind the group with a half groan, half scream. Rocky pulled him to his feet and around.
That hand had been cute when it was her friendly assistant, now she saw it drag around a whole person it seemed less so. More worrying though was the green gem of Dromos. Black veins ran across Rocky and up Kaisar's arm.
"You just had to be dramatic again, didn't you?" Favaro said to Kaisar, which got him worked up at once.
"I was not being dramatic! Rocky's just very insistent on timing." He made a broad gesture with his own hand, while Rocky crossed fingers. That got his fingertips next to the glowing gem, and he twitched as if burned. Kaisar twitched too.
"Rocky, why did you agree to this?" Belphegor said, giving the hand a stern stare.
"Uh, are we missing something?" Trismegistus asked.
"Yeah, Kaisar's hand is an independent zombie," Favaro said. "Just roll with it."
"We thought it would be useful," Kaisar said.
"You have no idea how much," Favaro said. "Here's the story : in the aftermath you caught this rebel leader and you want to store her so you can return to your duties. Your new duties as an Onyx Knight, now we got this."
Belphegor preferred that much over going violent all the way. She pushed down her discomfort with being tied up by knights, thought of her gas bombs and their limited range inside, and of anything else.
Kaisar kept his distance, barely talked even when Favaro tried to joke around. He gave curt instructions on how everyone was to act, and how to postpone the inevitable fighting as long as possible. He asked that death would be avoided.
As all was set, Belphegor found a moment to tell him, "I'm glad you finally changed your mind, sir knight. Even if it took you long enough."
She'd at least expected a smile, or something else, but he just frowned and looked vaguely troubled.
· · · · · · ·
The lock cracked and the door swung open. A silhouette against the torches tiptoed in, two corpses of guards lay in the hallway.
Oh, her. They were going through with it.
Nishaol lifted the rocks on which the circle was inscribed, breaking it that way rather than try magic. Next she unlocked the chains binding him to the ground using a set of stolen keys. Somehow the underlying spell had to be gone, because nothing actually by default.
He moved at once. Out the door, out the other doors, to the right where they kept the rest.
Nishaol was right behind him. "Don't go there, the back up is the other way!"
He kicked open the nearest rig. The place was darker, but the sound got all the guards running. His prime handler wouldn't be here to activate the collar if Nishaol took him out, which gave him plenty of time to slaughter these guards. He barely paid attention as he tore an arm loose and tossed the body aside, and another body, and more. Systematic, and on. Next were the locks of the cells. His arrival caused hollers and cries, and begging for him to hurry. He went as fast as he could tear the locks off. Large and small and injured poured out, away without sense of direction.
"Wait!" Azazel carried enough dominion yet for all the demons to freeze and look back, as far as they hadn't vanished yet.
"Don't go left," he said. "Gather at the concave place where the guards have their table, and fortify it. I will catch up.'
He had no business asking anyone to follow him, but he couldn't do this quick enough alone, nor keep them all alive if they weren't in the same place. "Nishaol, get the other keys and be useful!"
"We need to leave," she said, almost desperate.
"We need to set them free. Are you going to be a problem, or not?"
By now, guards flooded in from the other end, including handlers already chanting the torture spell. None of them were his own, though. He flexed his claws and ran at them, slashed them apart, stole a blade along the way and made short work before any got in a sphere or full spell. It put him at the edge of focus; his body might endlessly regenerate but he couldn't see enough. When Nishaol materialized before him he almost struck her, but pulled back in time.
"For hell's sake, stop! Do you think I'm going through all this trouble to save you just for a noisy jailbreak? We have to do this as quietly as possible. We can't afford a huge—"
He shoved her away and continued down the hall, tearing off lock after lock and occasionally bracing against the wall. He didn't stop, didn't speak anymore.
· · · · · · ·
Sofiel pulled El from the wreckage, glad to find nur alright. It appeared to be only exhaustion. In fact, it was nothing short of a miracle that no debris had hit anyone in the room; they really ought to have checked what other powers El had.
After lifting El in her arms, she looked back at Gabriel. Lacking her regal flair, Gabriel sat on her knees, hands on a screen of the battle before her. Even after the defeat the troops kept fighting.
"Why didn't they fall back?" Gabriel sputtered. "We'll be annihilated at this rate!"
Sofiel didn't dare answer that.
Badb Catha teleported onto the ship. "Lady Gabriel, can the cannons still fire?"
Gabriel whipped around. "No! We have to retreat. Do not get cocky just because your travelling range."
"I am not," she said lightly, though Sofiel sensed the underlying discontent with Gabriel. "Your orders?"
"Do not go near the Onyx Knights, but retrieve anyone you can find without doing so," Gabriel said. "Sofiel, prepare a gate to heaven."
Badb Catha bowed and teleported away, while Sofiel found a place to lay El down.
"Lady Gabriel, is there any chance I might go down to see whether I can find Jeanne d'Arc? I have found her once before just by following a dim sense, perhaps I can do it again."
"No. We're going back to heaven this instant."
"El will be very disappointed," she said.
"What did I just say about gods with range not being cocky?" Gabriel snapped.
"I will not go anywhere near—"
"Now!"
Sofiel was too taken aback by the outburst to answer right away. Gabriel caught herself and said in a calmer tone, "We do not even know whether she is alive."
"She is," Sofiel said. "I can tell."
Somehow that got her an skeptical squint. Gabriel turned back to the screen and left bitterness hanging in the air. "Prepare your gate."
· · · · · · ·
Jeanne struggled onto the first shore she came across, only to find herself back on the island. The smoking remains of the damned machine lay dimming before her, its dreadful power going to sleep but not above, the gods desperately trying to reach a small point amid it. Between their target and them, countless Onyx Knights back in power, throwing shields and captive spheres at them.
Following the fall of a distantly familiar angel, one accompanied by two ravens, she could only watch her die. Two Onyx Knights were upon her at once.
"Don't ... "
Uriel, at her hands.
One drove the wristblade through her neck as the other held her down, sending a spray of already glowing blood across the earth. Limp she fell to the ground, and so did any other god that fell all around. Streams of blood turning to golden light never met the water's edge.
Raphael, at her hands.
Gods of all kinds, small and gigantic alike, went to their deaths. For seven years, this had been happening in heaven already. Every time he raided the sanctuaries ... this ... she should have killed when she had the chance. He who murdered gods and didn't even seek to suppress the worst of himself.
And her beloved Michael, at her hands.
"Don't kill them!" Her hands trembled for the weapon she had long lost and no longer trusted herself to wield.
Someone grabbed her by the arms and clamped a hand over her mouth. "Quit drawing attention."
The person dragged Jeanne behind an outcrop. The glimpse of a red boot with gold ornaments reminded her of Nina's ally, Cerberus. She was still here?
Ascertaining Jeanne didn't make further noise, Cerberus released her grip.
"You're having a phase," she said. "Bad memories taking over, right?"
Jeanne nodded numbly.
"We're here. You breathe for a bit, don't make more noise. We'll leave once Coco finds Nina."
Behind her, the slaughter continued. Her heart hammered in her chest, her blood pushed and begged her to save them or stop being here stop all this stop beg fate to stop.
She covered her ears, closed her eyes and thought of El — El who was alive, still somewhat safe in heaven, they must have gotten away — El had to be safe. Nina would have to arrive soon and they would have to get out of the city and find El. Hope was all she could do when she was no more knight.
Well ... a sneaky little thought emerged. The demonic promise of power to save her people from her king wasn't new; Martinet had so tempted her. This demon might be able to make pacts too, and had a stake in helping Nina somehow. She had believed to receive a demonic pact as usual, powers to use as she thought she would. Such arrogance, to overestimate her spiritual purity and think she would truly do it, truly save people. She had gone to kill the gods instead, her enemies now, her betrayers, or so it had felt. Right now she felt betrayed by her own king more than anything. Would a pact now drive her to attack the right people, or would she join the slaughter of gods again?
There was no telling whether a pact with this demon was even on the table, but the thought tickled at her. Nina had seemed to have no trouble doing good things despite her demonic heritage, and if there was even a glimmer of clarity on her words on Azazel's treatment of El, then perhaps ... maybe if she was stronger ... maybe demonic power wasn't guaranteed to drag up the worst of herself.
"Can you ... I think I can ... "
"What?"
"Never mind."
For the umpteenth time, Jeanne asked herself what the world had come to, that he own people slaughtered gods and she was (once again) hiding with demons. Maybe she'd been fated for demons. After all, the true knight for the prophecy had not been herself, but a stray bounty hunter, son of a pirate.
· · · · · · ·
Azazel had at least five handlers who knew the spell to activate his collar. Two of them he'd caught before they could speak, using the chaos of the outbreak. The others were left somewhere, not found before he passed the room where he and Mugaro had once worked. The frantic rush driving him subsided, he had to enter, struck by the absurdity that this place he'd hated so much now was missed.
Mugaro's writing on the old book were still there. Nishaol had not changed much, though there was more blood and the hearth reeked of blood. She lacked Mugaro's telling power; now it seemed Charioce as right, he'd been a fool to never have realized. Only gods died into the embrace of light.
He leaned on the table, but refused to let himself collapse. Not now he was moving, however slim the chance was they'd really escape.
Someone burst into the room and he whirled around. An Orleans Knight. Within an instant he closed a claw around the man's throat, lacking any weapon to snatch and use. The only reason he didn't squeeze through was confusion at the strange putty that got on his skin.
"Dammit, stop!" the man choked in Favaro's voice.
Azazel let go the guy, who stumbled back against the wall and starting clawing at his face and hair. It revealed darker skin and bushier hair below that goo, which he flicked away. "Y'know, that alchemist lady's real good at what she does."
"What are you doing here?" Azazel asked wryly.
"Isn't that obvious?" Favaro said, gesturing exit way. "We're breaking you out, which would be much easier if you'd been closer to the entrance."
Mocking laughter escaped him. "You're insane."
Behind them, more people entered with strange faces and familiar voices.
"Nishaol, what went wrong?" Walfrid asked.
"He wanted a total prison break," Nishaol said.
"Well, if that's where we are, why not work with it?" Favaro said.
"They'll go after me first," Azazel said. "Priority class, I bet."
"Huh?" Favaro asked.
An undisguised face entered, Kaisar. "It's a system in case of outbreak. Gladiators are assigned a threat level to ensure the worst get apprehended first."
Right after him was Belphegor. She pushed past everyone and stood before him, looking entirely too worried. She lightly touched one of the snakes that had emerged from his arm. "Lord Azazel, what's ails?"
He didn't even know.
"The primary field is off," Kaisar said. "I got the code and deactivated it, you can remove the collar without the emergency protocol flicking on."
Trismegistus raised a finger and approaching, working her elemental magic on the collar's lock. With a crack and a rush, the metal turned to splinters.
Careful, Azazel probed his power — wings ready, serpents writhing. That he felt sick to the bone didn't matter. Had no business to matter. He still had something to do, however slim the chance. He didn't try the walls, knowing they'd be enforced like Onyx shielding. Those weren't emergency and couldn't be turned off just like that.
Nishaol led the way. Belphegor kept throwing worried looks at his arms, he ignored it.
The halls were still full of emerging demons, with Nishaol hopping all over the place to instruct where to go, and whom not to attack. Walfrid was in the middle of peeling off the remnants of his disguise, and Trismegistus paced ahead to deal with any enemy and their damn spells. Belphegor used up her last gas bomb to knock out a group who came from behind; still having to be careful of the all too human Favaro.
He followed, insisting to himself he was whole, but wasn't even surprised that when they reached the gates, those were locked and guarded by a whole mass of casters. Going out there would get everyone killed, he had no good shield. They retreated back into another underground tunnel, were followed, everything went wrong again, Azazel was expected nothing less.
It didn't matter much he didn't have a collar on. When they chanted the activation spell, the very walls burned with green power. The hall set ablaze and all demons were sent screaming to the ground.
Trismegistus planted her hands on the walls and set in motion her magic, forcing the rocks out. Matter not prepared for her required the hell pact, it shouldn't work, yet ... it did. Not as well as he knew her to work, but she got the rocks to shrivel and reform into a wall that threw the handlers back.
Favaro and Walfrid picked Belphegor and Nishaol up and ran out of range. Azazel tried to get up, but bled more readily than they did, so Kaisar slung Azazel's left arm over his shoulder and dragged him along.
"When I told you to start doing something, this wasn't what I meant," Azazel muttered.
"Really? It feels like I'm quite in line with what you asked me to do before. In fact, I'm taking it a step further. Unlike those ladies, you're important for the rebellion."
"Really," he scoffed. "I brought in Merlin. I messed up Nina."
"Yes, you mess up a lot, no doubt," Kaisar said. "But you're not gonna sort any of that out when dead. Come on now, work along. Trust me, you don't want Rocky dragging us."
Kaisar held out his once amputated stump. The hand Rita had reanimated her merged back on, now sporting a gem and pulsing black veins that flowed over into Kaisar's living flesh. Any desire to crack a joke about where Kaisar's mind had gone died when Rocky spasmed, twisted unnaturally and grabbed the wall, pulling Kaisar ahead. Azazel wasn't good at sensing energies, but sensed enough to know something was too alike what he'd noticed from Charioce before.
Heh, he hadn't even tried to ruin Kaisar this time and it still happened. Typical.
· · · · · · ·
Nina dug her fingers in the edge, but still needed Coco hauling her by the shirt to get out. There she fell to her side, panting, unable to move on her pained limbs right away. All she could do was breathe for a while.
Coco remained until she could try standing. Her arms hurt like hell and her skin had broken. Every movement hurt, she had to hold onto Coco's matted fur to fight off dizziness.
"Where's Jeanne?" she rasped.
"Cerberus found her, alive," he said.
Holding onto Coco, she staggered across a sharp slope. On the terrain below were the remaining prisoners fighting a weak battle against the Onyx Knights, only alive because the latter had had a siege behind them. Rachel and a few others made unstable expulsions of the green magic, but it only bought them some time.
Some of them were down and didn't move anymore.
Many of them were already dead deep below the ground or slung into the river, to be crushed or to drown.
The last remnants of golden light vanished into the sky, the dying gods no more.
The dragon within her might as well be dead too, irregardless of need.
And above her was a small platform between the steaming black matter.
"Coco, please go help the others."
"No can't do, Cerberus is only supposed to be getting you," Coco said.
What was the point of her, otherwise? Go back home, pretend like nothing had happened? As if. She had to do something, and Chris was right there. The fear holding her back struggled against the fear of losing her friends, or the fear of being put back underground, and lost.
"No," she said. "We need me to be a dragon now."
· · · · · · ·