Two figures were walking down a great corridor, their shapes reflecting in the polished stone of the floor, the gilded accents running along the walls in flowery, twisting patterns lent a stately air to the space through which they moved. One of the figures, a man, clad in an intimidating, militaristic uniform of flowing black robes and mirror polished, onyx armour, turned to the other for a moment to regard them before looking dead ahead again. But now he opened his mouth to speak. "I take it you know why you've been summoned. I'm sorry to have to bring you here so abruptly." The other figure, a small woman in white robes of similar design to his, bore an unnerved expression, her blue eyes never leaving the great, ornate door of oak and gold at the far end of the hallway, where the man was now taking her. "I have some idea." She said, her brows coming together. "But I don't know if I'll be of any use. I did not manage to learn all that much in my time there."

The man regarded her again in his periphery, his mouth cast into a hard line. "I won't pretend to know what motivated you to go on your little expedition… but I wish you luck." They had arrived before the oak doors now, where there was a square seam in the wall, before which the man went to stand. As he approached, the seam gave way to more, and the mirrored, silver parts of a contraption revealed themselves, coming out of the wall, suspended on seemingly nothing and re-arranging themselves into a small, floating pedestal, a space large enough to fit a hand. He pressed his hand to the surface, and a series of symbols lit up across the arch over the door, as if carving themselves from the beige stone. The doors swung open, and the woman looked now at the man, questioningly. "Will you be coming in with me?" She asked, her expression becoming strained. "No, this hearing called for you alone. But I'll be waiting right here." He said, gesturing to one of the small waiting benches to either side of the hallway. "Just answer them honestly. It's in your best interest. They'll know if you're lying… stay calm. You've done nothing wrong, remember that."
She nodded in silence. He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. "May the Father guide you." He said.
She smiled now, her terror giving way to new resolve. "Thank you. The same to you, dad." She said, before she walked through the arch, and the great doors closed behind her.

She could see now that the doors led to a great room, an octagonal behemoth where rows upon rows of beautiful seats were arranged, ascending at each side save for the one directly before her, where a great raised podium stood. However these seats were mostly empty, only a handful of angels watched her now, but she cast her focus to the podium before her, where four figures sat, bathed in such shadow that their features were totally obscured. "Thank you for coming. Please have a seat." One of the voices spoke, a husky voice of a man, like warm honey. She looked about the great room noticing an ornate, wing-backed chair beside her, that she was entirely certain was not there when she came in. However she complied, sitting in the chair and keeping her hands folded neatly in her lap, appearing greatly refined if not obviously nervous. She stared at the figures, scrutinising; something about them seemed very familiar, but she could not now determine what. But her musings were broken when another of the four spoke, a woman this time, her voice resonant with her power, that the young woman in the chair could feel in her very bones. "Are you the angel named Azazel?" She asked. There was a moment of silence. "Yes." The young woman replied. "I'm sorry, but I'd like to know, if I may, why I've been asked here?" She asked, doing her best to look confused and helpless, thinking that one does not spend many months living with demons and not learn at least a little deception. But they gave no answer, instead giving another question of their own. "Is it the truth that you had spent the last two earth cycles in Hell and thereafter in a human domicile?"
She could feel something begin to take root in her, a certain coldness the flowed through her veins. "Yes. I was conducting research. On demons." The figures looked to each other, engaging in an obvious conversation, but not a sound came from them. After a moment they settled, the light around them rippled, and the male spoke again, his voice too, now held that resonance, as if he could will her to come apart if he but said the words. "And was there a human in this domicile?"
"Yes." She answered, perplexed that the speaker had shown no regard to her statement about her research. He was still speaking. "And did you make contact with this human?" He asked, causing a murmuring among the assembled host. "Well… Yes, I did. Listen, I have all my notes, I can show you my research and you ca-"
He interrupted now. "We are not interested in your research." The man said, beginning to sound mildly annoyed. "The human. Did they remain in the house during your stay?"
"Yes," she began, "It was his house. Please tell-"
"And were the two of you alone in the house?" The female asked now. "No," Azazel answered, her fear at mentioning her friends before the council was moving through her like a caged animal, snapping and clawing wildly in every direction. "Who else was in the house?" The woman asked again. The cold feeling building in Azazel's spine had reached a peak now, and her mouth had gone dry. "There…" she hesitated, attempting to appear calm despite her heart hammering in her chest. "There were eight…Demons. Well, technically ten, as one had two additional bodies an-"
"Let me understand you correctly," A third said, the voice of a young girl. "You lived with ten demons escaped from hell, and never once did it occur to you to report such a clear breach of protocol? Are you aware of the seriousness of failing to take action in such circumstances?"

Azazel looked to the floor now, feeling as though trapped into a corner. "They didn't escape. They came with the human." She said, at which another round of murmers erupted amongst the council-members. "Please repeat that." The woman said; Azazel could all but feel her gaze narrowing. "The human, he came down into hell. I don't know how. He went from place to place, gathering up demons as he went along. At the end of his journey, ten along with myself had chosen to come with him. There we lived with him, until now." She could see the space around the podium ripple again, whatever magic that was used to ensure their privacy. When it rippled again, the woman spoke. "And what did you do, while living with him?" She asked, her tone sharp. Azazel could feel a great tide of doubt wash through her, wondering why the hearing in which she sat seemed to be far more about the Helltaker than herself. As his face flashed through her mind, she couldn't help but think of all that they had done while living there, praying the council could not see the colour of her face now. "We simply lived there." She repeated curtly, hoping desperately that this particular line of questioning would come to an abrupt end, that they would ask her no more about the Helltaker or the Demons, who had become to her like family. But she could never say such words before the council. "Are you aware," the woman continued now, "of what has been happening on earth since you were recalled?" She asked, standing now from the podium and moving to come down the stairs leading to the dimly lit, open space where Azazel sat. As she left the obfuscating magic of the podium, Azazel could see her now, clad in white robes much like her father's that hugged her arms, having forgone wearing armour with only an ornate, purple sash tied around her waist. Her straight, platinum-blonde hair was cut neatly, angling down just above her shoulders, with brilliant emerald eyes the shape of almonds staring ferociously into Azazel's own.

"Their world is ending." She said, her eyes still trained on Azazel as she took one methodical step after another towards her. Azazel felt a bolt of ice move through her heart, a thousand thoughts scattering, rising like a whirlwind. She did however, have certain suspicions. "You're lying." She said, attempting to banish the ice spilling into her heart through sheer force of will.
"Why would I lie?" The woman answered, a slender eyebrow raised. "It would give no benefit to me."
She thought of her friends, of the Helltaker, hoping absolutely that they were safe. "In any event, the problem you've caused revealing yourself to a human will fortunately sort itself out. They will almost certainly be killed in their apocalypse. You are quite fortunate."
Azazel's breathing had broken from its measured rhythm, and her terror had risen to a fever pitch. in a moment she lost control of her finely restrained emotions. "You're wrong!" She said, almost shouting. "Lucifer would never allow anything to happen to him!" Her eyes stretched wide the moment the words left her mouth, her hands flew up to her face, partially covering her lips. The woman's head had now snapped to her direction, and she looked at her darkly.

"What did you just say?"

"I…. That is to say…-" she began to stammer, realising now the enormity of her blunder. "Lucifer? One of the demons you spoke of, were they the demon known as Lucifer?" She asked, striding quickly towards Azazel, her piercing gaze never leaving her. Azazel remembered what her father had said; that she could not lie, as they would know. She was backed into a terrible corner now. "Yes." She said, slowly, unable to lift her eyes to meet her interrogator's stare. "You lived with the Chief Executive Officer of Hell for two Earth years, and you never saw how serious a problem that is?" She all but hissed, grabbing Azazel by her chin, forcing their eyes to meet. "I should have you stripped of your Halo and order your wings to be cut. Fortunately for you, the council will decide your fate."

She turned and left, going up to the podium to join the others. There was a terrible silence, like the great calm before a terrible storm, and Azazel was looking across the room at the rows of faces staring at her, hoping to see the tiniest semblance of pity, perhaps even understanding in the sea of faces, some old and weathered, some young and beautiful.

But she found none.

"This meeting is concluded." Spoke the man with the gravel voice, whose features she could now see, staring into her eyes with such ferocity she felt as though it would burn her. "You will appear again in four days, and the council will vote on the next course of action." He turned and left among the grumbling of the other council-members, who glanced at her and spoke among themselves. Before she could think to do anything, she was grabbed at the arms by two other angels, clad in full armour, their faces obscured behind reflective blue glass. They took her to the door, and as it closed behind her she fell to her knees, and wept in silence.

"What's taking so long?" Said Lucifer impatiently, watching Pandemonica dip a thin tube into the vial of blood, and draw various symbols and concentric rings that floated and glowed eerily in the air. "Oh I'm sorry your highness, would you like to take over considering I'm taking too long? Think you could do it better?" Pandemonica rolled her eyes as she continued to draw. Lucifer smirked. "Just find it." She said.

"I'm trying!" Pandemonica snapped in frustration.

"But you had me hide it in such complex pocket dimensions, it's proving much harder to recall it than I thought." She was moving her hands in the air in a series of twisting, fluid gestures, with the rings turning upon each other, the symbols shifting and changing as the rings adjusted. Suddenly, her eyes went wide. "I think I have it!" She focused now, and slowly she reached her pale hand into the center of of the floating blood, where it seemed to disappear, not coming out the other side. When she withdrew her hand, she had clasped in it a bright red and black stone. Before she had the slightest chance to admire it, it flew out of her hand, right into Lucifer's outstretched palm. "This is it. Excellent." She said, staring deeply into the reflective polish of the stone as if there were something within that she alone could see. Pandemonica waved her hands apart, the blood dissipating into nothing. "What now?" She asked, a single thin brow arched, the slightest concern coming to her at how Lucifer was looking at the stone, turning it in her hands, unblinking. It reminded her of something the Helltaker had made them all watch that Malina had loved, some terribly long series of films where a decrepit creature was obsessed with a stone… or was it a ring? She couldn't quite remember. "I don't suppose you'll be calling Death over for tea in my bedroom." She said, sarcastic.
"No. This is a powerful heavenly artefact. We will need to take it to one of three possible locations. I'll keep you informed." She turned to leave, but heard Pandemonica clear her throat. "We had an agreement. You want me to help? Then tell me." Lucifer did the tiniest dance of frustration, before she turned to her, smoothing her expression with a defeated sigh. "Fine. I can't activate it myself. It uses special magic that I, as a demon, cannot use anymore since I fell. This isn't some inter-dimensional phone. It's a summoning beacon."
Pandemonica was still now, her breathing measured and her eyes closed. She stayed unnaturally still until she let out a breath, opening her eyes to hold Lucifer's. "Are. You. Actually. Insane?" She said, her voice more hoarse with each word. Lucifer returned her gaze now, raising a brow, tilting her head to further voice her confusion. "You want to bring us close to an Archangel!?" She spat. Lucifer's confused expression only deepened.
"I thought you knew. You made a joke not two minutes ago about Death in your bedroom for tea."
Pandemonica all but lunged at her, taking a great stride forward. "Exactly! I was joking!" She hissed, grabbing hold of Lucifer's vest. "I didn't think you'd actually want to bring us within smiting distance of one of the fucking Horseman, you crazy bitch!"

"You'll be fine. I promise no harm will come to you." Lucifer said, trying to usher as much calm into her voice as she could.
"Pandemonica seemed totally overrun with her fear, appearing now like a comic opera loon, bereft of all sense. "I mean, will I even survive standing in their presence? Will I just combust if they look at me?" Her raving was brought to an abrupt halt when she heard a bell like cackle. Lucifer's shoulders were shaking, her face contorted in genuine amusement.

"You can't be serious." She said, folding her arms as she stood against the door.

Pandemonica let her features give way to her annoyance. "What I mean," she said almost through her teeth, "is that we don't know what happens when Death arrives. They are an Angel. We are Demons. You know what they are supposed to do when they encounter demons, yes? Or have you forgotten?"
Lucifer regarded her impatiently now. "You all really do comprehend so little. Tell me then, if that is true, if they are compulsive, mindless slayers of demons whose protocol dictates action, why did Azazel not kill us all in our sleep? She had plenty of opportunity in the last two years."
Pandemonica opened her mouth, but stood motionless for a brief moment in the warm light, her expression shifting. "I suppose." She said. "But still. I'm not very happy about it. But if there's a chance…I'll do it. But only for him."
Lucifer nodded slowly, staring into the distance as if something had distracted her there. Pandemonica spoke again. "What now?"
"You wait." She replied, turning to the door. The door had closed and left the room in a deafening silence before she could say another word.

The eyes watched her round the corner, something peculiar twirling between her fingers. They narrowed, staring at the door she had closed as if it were a door behind which unspeakable events were taking place. She knew that Lucifer visiting 'Monica's room could only mean that not everything was as it seemed. She barged into Zdrada's room, where she lay on her back upon the bed. Taking notice of Melina, her full lips twisted into a cocky grin. "So, what? Now that there's no power to play shit, you come to me for entertainment? You must be really desperate." She said dryly, her gaze returning to the roof before the lids closed. But when some time passed and she'd had heard no reply, she opened her eyes to regard her sister, who was sitting on the carpet, her back resting against the door. She was staring out before her, eyes wondering around without focus. Finally they stopped, and she fixed them upon zdrada. "Lucifer is planning something." She said plainly, as if it were an obvious fact. Zdrada scoffed, rolling her eyes, her mouth twisted into a contemptuous sneer. "As if I give a single deep fried fuck what that bitch is doing. It's not like anything can get worse."
Malina held her gaze now, her eyes searching until Zdrada turned away, uncomfortable. "Do you really want to jinx us?" She said, brow raised. Zdrada laughed bitterly. Melina stared at spot before her feet. "At least we still have shelter. And whatever the fuck is out there isn't trying to kill us. I almost feel sad for these humans. Gotta suck to see your place get wrecked."
Zdrada shot her an inquisitive look from her bed. "Yeah, but they're like rats. They'll find holes to hide in, wait 'till all of this blows over and repopulate." Malina considered her words for a moment. "And what it you're wrong? What if this only ends when they're all gone and the Angels swoop in to cut down every demon they find? The fuck are we gonna do?"

Zdrada's mouth twisted again. "Would you shut the fuck up? They're not coming. Why haven't they arrived then yet huh? It's been four days. Nobody is coming to save this planet. Let them die, it makes no difference anyway." Malina shook her head in frustration. "You say this now. But what would you if he was still alive?" She asked, watching her intently. Zdrada's eyes flew to the roof. She forced down the feelings threatening to surge through her chest. "Did he really take all of your fight with him?" Zdrada turned her whole head to Malina, sitting up on the bed. "You know what, fuck you! I don't need anyone to give me fight, I am the fucking fight! Fuck off and go be sentimental somewhere else. Get it through your skull. He's dead. None of the shit that used to, matters anymore. He. Is. Gone. So if you want to get all weepy, go do it by The dog or the slut. They'll be happy to join you." Zdrada might've seen a moment of hurt flicker across Malina' creatures, her scowl give way to pain. "Suit yourself." She said numbly, and went through the door, slamming it behind her. In the wake of the eerie silence, zdrada only sat on the bed, staring at the door, only noticing a moment later the tear running down her cheek. The flood of thoughts and the storm of emotion came without warning. She thought about him again, the feelings it stirred washed over her like great waves over a boat lost at sea, caught in its wild current. She turned, and falling into the bed, began to sob into her pillow. As her sobs began to subside, she could feel again the ghost of his arms wrapped around her, his warm, hulking frame pressed to her naked back one morning, long ago.

Zdrada awakened, nearly jumping up into a seated position, having come from a pleasant dream to find she had fallen asleep with her headphones on, the sweeping symphony left on loop. She chastised herself, a bolt of fear going suddenly through her. She couldn't afford to do such a thing - if any of the others found out she enjoyed classical music, her reputation would be tarnished, all but obliterated. She took the device, paused the music, only to be met with the most peculiar sound. She lifted the expensive headphones from her head, finding it to be no trick of the mind.

The house was utterly quiet.

She sat still, listening a moment longer, eyes drifting across the room. She moved from the bed, going out the door of her room, down the hall and looking down from the balcony overlooking the front door. Indeed, not a soul stirred in the house - or so she thought, until she heard someone moving in the kitchen. She passed through the doorway to find only the Helltaker, peacefully reading the newspaper, utterly alone, not the smallest trace of any of the others. A terrible smile came to her features, and using all the skill she could muster, she moved silently until she stood behind him, arms poised to give him a fright. But before she could move, he spoke. "Hello Zdrada. I see you're finally awake." Her eyes stretched, completely caught off guard, and her pose deflated like a balloon into her usual, carefree demeanour. "How did you know?" She asked, bringing her hands down his shoulders and snaking them down his great chest, musing to herself that he felt very warm beneath her fingers. "Well," he answered, putting a great hand on hers and trapping them to his chest. She could feel now the beat of his heart, which sent the smallest, pleasant shock to her. "Aside from you being the only one home, I can smell the cigarette smoke."

She smiled down at him, raising an eyebrow. "Bullshit. You know I don't give it off out of my skin like a human. I could smoke a hundred packs and you wouldn't know how many I've had."
He squeezed harder, sending another tiny thrill through her heart. "Yes, that's true. But it still sticks to your clothes." She raised her eyebrows, surprised at his simple, accurate logic. "So what are you saying? If I want to sneak up on you, I have to do it without my clothes on? I'd bet you'd like that, perv."
He smiled, taking her hands and pressing his lips to them. "Maybe, but you don't need to sneak around if you want to take your clothes off."
Her breath hitched, a seductive smile forming on her full lips. She looked down at him, seeing the smile he veiled under his tilted head. She was lost in thought a moment, wondering if she would entertain the direction of play he was now leading them in. Perhaps, she felt, it could indeed be very entertaining. It had been very long since she had been intimate with anyone, and the thought awakened now a dark hunger in her, latent and dormant, and demanding to be sated.

"You know," she drawled, bending over to bring her lips to his ear, letting her hot breath wash over his face. "We could practice sneaking together, if you want…"

She felt the grip on her hands tighten, the rise and fall of his chest as his breathing deepened. He stood now, towering over her as he turned to face her. She had perceived the difference in the size of their frames before, but now as he stood with such hunger in his eyes, it sent a thrill through her that had heat pooling in her.
She took the opportunity his relaxed stance presented, and jumped onto him, wrapping her legs around his waist, throwing her arms around his neck. They were so close now he could feel her breath on his neck, and let out a growl when he felt her legs squeeze and her hips roll, grinding into him. "Where?" He whispered, pressing his lips to her neck and kissing the soft skin. "I don't care," she mewled, sighing as he his mouth moved on her throat. "Just fuck my brains out." She giggled now as he began to move, quickly moving up the stairs, all the while kissing up and down from her collar to her ear. They arrived in her room, where he threw her off of him onto her bed, which had her giggling as she watched him remove his shirt. She quickly did the same, exposing her impressive chest cradled in expensive lingerie, where her crucifix fell in the valley. "Do all of you just wear sexy underwear all the time?" He raised an eyebrow, but the questioning expression did little to hide the hunger in his eyes. "Uh huh." She answered, rolling back to remove her pants. "For just such an occasion. Girl's gotta be ready in case the day finally comes." He answered with a predatory smile, his eyes tracing across her athletic frame, the toned legs, the milky white skin contrasting deliciously with the black silk and lace. She brought her closed legs apart, and beckoned him with one finger. Without hesitation he moved forward, falling onto his stomach and bringing his face to her thighs, kissing down and pressing his mouth to the layer of silk between his lips and her core. She let out a moan and the sudden warmth and pressure, bringing a hand to his head and grabbing my a fistful of hair. He placed a few more, firm kisses on her aching core before he slipped his fingers in the band of her underwear, slowly pulling it down. She arched her back enough for him to slide the thin silk down her legs. He took the bunch in his hands and pressed it to his nose, savouring the scent of her arousal. The sight only served to arouse her more than she already was, and she was beginning to drip now, as she unclasped her brassiere, letting her round breast into his sight. He stood a moment, drinking in the sight of her, his approval in the hitch of his breath. She blushed for a moment under his silent praise, giving way to an expression of her lust. He moved between her smooth legs again now, her thighs propped up by his broad shoulders. He pressed his mouth to her dripping core again, the sensation of his warm lips and tongue making her back arch, and her eyes roll into her head. Soon they found her sensitive hood, and she clamped her legs around his head, throwing her own head back into the pillows. "Oh fuck yes …" she hissed, dragging her pitch black, painted nails across his scalp in ecstasy. As he continued, she was writhing and moaning, grinding her sex into his face to increase the pressure. "Please… please… keep going, I'm gonna cum, I can feel it…" she begged, her eyes closed. At last she began to quiver, letting out a drawn out string of moans and mewls as she rode out her bliss. As she came down from her climax, she relaxed her entire frame, and the Helltaker's head shot up as he inhaled dramatically, as if he had been starved for air. "Fuck you!" She laughed as she slapped him across the face playfully. "But be a good boy and stand by the bed, I wanna try something." She said in low, husky voice. He complied, standing at the foot of the bed, the edge pressed to his thighs. She moved over, turned on her stomach, and took his hard sex in her hands. "Ooooh, all this for me? I'd say some bullshit about flattery getting you nowhere, but… let me make my point this way…" she then took him into her mouth, and brought her hands around to the back of his thighs, pulling herself forward to take his whole length into her throat.

He growled as she slipped her head back and forth, closing his eyes as he placed a hand gently on her head. She released now, coming up for air, a long string of spit dangling from her mouth to his tip. She brought her hand back and forth around his hard sex, giggling as she looked into his eyes. "I want you to cum down my throat." She said, smiling seductively as she kept her rhythm. Before he could respond, she had him deep in her mouth again. Soon he felt the tension mounting again, and he spoke softly in warning. "I'm close. You sure you want this?" She withdrew again, never ceasing her assault on his hardness, moving now so she was on her knees on the floor. "Do demons have horns?" She asked.

"Yes of cour-" she cut him off, taking him into her mouth again, and working her tongue on the underside of his shaft. He took her head in his hands, thrusting back and forth into her mouth, her head trapped between him and the edge of the mattress. The final string snapped for him, and he was pushing himself deeper into her mouth, as he spasmed and moaned, releasing all he had into her waiting throat. As she pulled away she had a great smile, getting back into the bed. She opened her legs, slipping a finger in and massaging. "You naughty fuck. Look how wet you've made me. You'll have to take responsibility for this…. mess you've made. But that was even more fun than I imagined," she moved onto her back, her head inches from his hardness, hanging off the bed. "Fuck my mouth more." Wasting no time, he pressed his cock into her mouth again, thrusting back and forth until his whole shaft had disappeared behind her lips. As he kept his rhythm, she snaked a hand down her belly, slipping a finger into her hot center. He put his hands on her ample breasts, massaging in circles and pulling on her nipples, which brought a pleasurable hum from her. She pulled him from her mouth, humming pleasantly. "Oh fuck yes… squeeze my nipples…They really don't get enough love." She went back to her ministrations, and after a while she tapped his thigh, and he pulled himself from her. "Ok that's enough. I need to feel you inside me now." She said, moving over so that her behind was pointed to him, her glistening slit before his eyes. "Come on. I want you to re-arrange my fucking insides." All but drowning in his lust now, he slapped a hand to her rounded flesh, eliciting a pleasurable yelp and string of giggles from her. He began to rub his tip on her entrance, and she moaned, squirming, unconsciously moving herself back to get more contact. "No fair…" she said between breathy sighs, looking back at him through her periphery. "Stop teasing… I need it! Mess me up!"

Before she could continue, he was sliding his whole length into her, and she let out a long, shuddering moan until he was fully imbedded in her.

She was a twitching mess for a moment, before he pulled back and slammed powerfully into her again. She all but melted, whimpering, letting out a pronounced moan as he drove into her again and again. She had dropped her torso, resting her head on the pillows, feeling the pleasure increase with the new angle she had given him. She felt the familiar mounting tension in her core. "Keep going, fuck me harder! I'm so close! Fuck me!" She called to him. He continued his rhythm, the pronounced slaps filling the air as he put his hands on her wide, generous hips, pulling himself harder into her. Her eyes had fallen into her head again. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…." She repeated this again and again with each moment of contact, until she came again, her legs quivering as she let out a scream into the pillows. She seemed barely holding together, her voice wavering as she drunkenly turned her head to look at him. "The wall…." She said, and he understood. He picked her up, weightless in his strong arms, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he embedded himself in her again. She wrapped her arms around him in a secure ambrace, revelling in the feeling of the cold wall against her back as he drove into her as fervently as before, seeing stars as her mouth hung open in ecstasy. She was beginning to feel such pleasure that a blackness was creeping forward from the depths of her mind. She was kissing him, first his shoulder and neck and then soon her lips found their home on his, their tongues caught in an intimate dance. She felt the tension snap again, squeezing onto him like a vice as she quivered and yelled, "holy fuck~!" Stifling the latter part of her scream by biting into his shoulder. The pain had him growl and thrust hard into her, which only brought another wave upon her. They had now moved back to the bed, where he continued his work on her sex. "I'm close." He said suddenly, and she responded by moving herself into his lap, straddling him. "Fill me up," she said hotly. "Cum inside me, please!" To illustrate her desire she rolled her hips into him again, and he growled into her ear as she held him, thrusting faster and faster. He pressed his mouth to her breasts, kissing down the valley of her chest and taking each into his mouth. She sighed contently and brought her arms around his head, pulling him, yearning for more pressure. But he felt his own tension overflow now, and pushed hard into her, holding there as he coated her, feeling her orgasm milking him for all he had, both crying out their bliss into the air. They fell, he on top of her. She stared into his eyes, searching. "Kiss me." She asked sweetly, and he obliged. But this was not the heated passion that had burst out before. As she kissed him now it was slow, wanting, needing. "I love you." She said, as she broke from him. He kept his eyes on her red pools. "As do I love you." He said, kissing her neck softly as he turned to lie down and to ambrace her, holding onto her possessively. She put her hands on his own, wrapped around her waist, revelling in the warmth of his chest pressed to her back. In a moment, she had fallen asleep, content, smiling.

Azazel had been staring at the wall for what felt an eternity now. The gorgeous mural in many stages across its length depicting the rise of the angels, the expulsion of the fallen and finally the role of the angels as protectors of humanity, a silent, invisible hand guiding them through the darkness. But now she felt the mural was empty, almost as if a gross fabrication of falsehoods in many respects. The great eternal city she returned to, seemed a hollow shell of the noble history and idealism portrayed in the breathtaking art. As far as she had been home, she had been treated as a leper, outcast, traitor and criminal. She found the waiting perhaps the most maddening. Senseless, meaningless, without end. She could not sleep at all, haunted by night terrors wherein the Helltaker lay on the floor, dead or dying in her arms. The parting of the gilded doors behind her draw her attention with a start. Another angel stood before her, her halo like a dull bulb close to fading. She was young, not yet grown in power. She was however dressed sharply in the signature military robes, immaculately pressed, sturdy material. "Miss Azazel," she said, reading from a device, four corners of patterned gold that held a wall of floating text, suspending the words in the air. Azazel turned to her, subconsciously straightening her own robes; the indication of her military lineage. "The council of elders has requested your presence." She said timidly, her eyes glancing to Azazel's halo. Azazel looked around the room again, a collection of tapestries, murals, statues and paintings, an assurance of glory, a museum of victories. A mausoleum for a bygone golden age. The girl passed from the room, and Azazel followed. They moved down the enormous, high ceilinged hall, the ornate gold twisting into overlapping patterns too complex for the eye to follow. The girl was glancing to Azazel's head. "Do you wish to ask me something?" Azazel asked, noticing the girl's intermittent stares. She looked embarrassed now, fidgeting with the data pad in her hands. "Well, yes. You don't have to answer if you don't want to." She said. Carefully considering her words. Azazel moved on in silence, prompting the girl to continue. "How is your halo so bright?" She asked, the words rushing from her mouth. Azazel blinked, then frowned, contemplating the question. Her halo had ever been particularly bright to her, less so when she was in Hell, and had nothing to compare it to. "I didn't know it was. To be frank, I've never paid much attention to any such thing. My research has always been my life."

The girl stared at her sceptically. "Well," she said, turning the data pad in her hands, "it is. For how old you are I mean. Not many angels have it so bright when so young. You must come from a powerful family."

Azazel focused on the intricate gold patterns on the floor for a moment. "Maybe. I don't know." She said, turning her gaze and looking out at the endless expanse of clouds through one of the great windowed walls as they passed it now, seeing the stars, the planets, the great expanse of gorgeously coloured gas clouds. This place that was everywhere and nowhere at once, that spanned the space and fabric of seemingly infinite dimensions was her home, and yet she longed more than anything to be somewhere else. On a tiny blue planet, an insignificant grain of sand in a great desert. The most important place to her. They came to the great gilded doors, and the girl began to type something in her datapad. Staring at the impossible, swirling, patterned gold of the imposing chamber entrance, Azazel felt the familiar ice begin to form around her heart, the tightening of her chest. "Would you mind answering one more question, before you go in?" The girl asked looking up at Azazel from under her lashes. She was caught for a moment, lost in her fear, before her attention returned to the other angel. "Why not," Azazel said, her gaze flickering back to the door, thinking of the imposing figures on the other side. "It might just be the last time we ever speak." The girl's eyes betrayed a flash of emotion, a genuine sympathy. After a moment she asked, "There's been talk… I mean, word got out, about where you've been…. Who you've been with." She rushed again now. "I was wondering… what is he like?" She glanced off to the side, as if there were something there that had captured her attention for a brief moment. Azazel's mind began fervently rushing forward in confusion, going through anything she might have said, might have let slip. She thought now that she had never mentioned the Helltaker, wondering how the girl could know. The girl perceived her changes in expression, and began to speak again. "I mean, you actually met the fallen Angel Lucifer! Is he as handsome and persuasive as the stories say?" Azazel felt a great relief wash through her, the secret of the Helltaker intact. " She. " Said Azazel knowingly. "And yes, she is very beautiful, and can be very persuasive. Very pragmatic. She knows how to bring you to her conclusions."

The girl stopped, her eyes wide and staring into Azazel's own cerulean. "She…" she tested the word, as if she had heard it for the first time in her existence. "The Angel Lucifer is a…." She was still staring into Azazel's eyes, who merely winked at her, the doors having opened. She passed through without another word, leaving the girl standing to stare as the doors closed. The great chamber was exactly as it was before, immaculately decorated, however dark, especially in the upper tiers of its octagonal stands where the highest ranking councilmembers sat. Only now the entire council was assembled, the the central podium where the four sat, had each of its occupants in place, the imposing silhouettes before her like terrors in the darkness. Azazel saw now the same chair as before had appeared behind her, and she sat down.

"This court is in session." Called an angel from the upper level. The central podium shimmered. "The Angel Azazel," said one of the four, a man, but not the same as before. The voice that had spoken to her when last she sat in the chamber was a soothing, honeyed baritone. The voice speaking to her now was as the grinding of gravel, that seemed to reverberate through her. "four earth days prior you were called before this council. After much consideration, the court finds you guilty on the following charges: breach of the fourth command, to never reveal yourself to a human being, one charge. Harbouring and aiding the Demon prince Lucifer in escaping their post, one charge. Failure to report the presence of demons on earth, twenty four charges. Failure to intervene where demons attempted to make contact with a human being, ten charges. Entering the realm of Earth without approved documentation permitting you to do so, one charge. Do you wish to plead innocent on any of the aforementioned charges?"
The chamber had sunk into a disturbing silence. Azazel's chest had all but flooded with a most terrible cold, and she knew now she could deny none of the things that she had been found to be guilty of. Yet she felt no guilt, not the slightest slither of remorse. She would, given the chance, do it all again. "No." She said curtly, knowing it to be futile to attempt to deny anything. The chamber was silent again, the faces staring at her like skulls in a thick fog, their halo's casting disturbing shadows upon them. "Very well." Said the dark voice again, breaking through the silence like a crack of thunder. "The council finds you guilty on all charges, and hereby sentences you to summary execution, four days hence." A murmuring rushed through the gathered council. But Azazel sat eerily still, staring before her, the tears rushing down her cheeks in silence.

Lucifer's eyes traced the expanse of roads, paths, and markers, over the notes scribbled in her hand, the red strings connecting various sites and landmarks. All composed around a photo of of the Helltaker, as of all paths literally led to him. She heard a knock on the door, and turned around, a bolt of fear washing through her. "It's me, 'Monica." She heard the muffled voice call from the other side of the wooden frame. She moved to the door, opening it slightly, staring suspiciously past Pandemonica. "You are alone?" She asked, her voice low. "Yes." She replied, glancing around her. The door swung open only far enough to allow Pandemonica to pass through. "Quickly!" Lucifer hissed, staring into the darkness past her, closing the door as soon as she could. Pandemonica was now staring at the board Lucifer had built over the window frame of the room, the layers of paper in maps, notes, photos and strings, the papers scattered on the floor. "You've been busy." She said, staring at the planning in awe. She squinted to read the writing in the candlelight. "What is it?" She asked, turning to Lucifer who stood now at her side, her own eyes scanning over it all again. "Where we need to go. There are many possible sites. Each could serve our purposes. The closest is here," she said, striding over and pointing to a red circle on the map. Pandemonica's eyes widened as she looked where she was pointing. "Mexico. The closest place is in Mexico?" She asked, a brow raised. "In Chichén Itzá, the Yucatán peninsula." Lucifer added. "Better than the next. Unless you really want to see Egypt." She quipped. Pandemonica ran a hand over her face. "I actually do, but rather under better circumstances." She said. "Mexico it is then."
Neither of them had seen the shadows shift beneath the door, and both jumped when it flew open, where Malina stood, the light of the moon casting an eerie silver around her, as if she were a an apparition. Her eyes darted to the board, and then settled on the two standing before it. Lucifer's expression twisted into one of utter outrage. "What the fuck do you think you're doing, barging into my room? I gave you no permiss-"
"Enough." Malina interrupted her. "I've watched you two sneak around for two days now, and I want to know what you're up to during your little girl-to-girl hangouts. And I want to know what it has to do with him." she pointed now to the picture of the Helltaker pinned in the middle of the mass of papers and lines."
Lucifer and Pandemonica looked to each other, unsure. "Just tell her Luci." Pandemonica said, her expression soft. She has as a right to know, she has a stake in this too. And you were going to tell everyone in time anyway."
Lucifer sighed, defeated. "We're going to go on a... quest of sorts." She said, folding her arms over her chest.
"Ooooh! We're going on a quest? Count me in!" All three jumped, turning to the door to find Justice had poked her head into the doorframe, a wide grin on her face. Below her three more, identical smiling faces appeared.

"Fuck." Lucifer sighed.