A/N: So…erm…I planned for fifty chapters. But depending on how this goes…well, we'll see.

May go slightly more than that. Either way, next chapter is going to be really long, so just a heads up there!

My sister would like you all to know that she appreciates the comments and does plan on drawing more art for the series in the future. Also, it's hard to coordinate chapter review between three time zones, hence why this chapter has been stuck in editing hell. Here it is now, though. Thank you for your patience!

Review Responses:

Anonymous, aww, thank you so much. I'm glad you liked it, and sorry to make you wait so long for this installment. I don't think my sister is going to draw their kids, as I typically draw the line at third generations, but there is a batch of younger siblings that we occasionally scheme about! Enjoy the chapter!

Diana Raven, yep, Maka's not pleased. Thanks for the review and your patience! As noted above, I have been slowing down a bit writing them, and then there's some added time (usually a week of back and forth) while I try and get my sister to beta for me while she's off enjoying summer vacation on the other side of the country, haha.

Karma88, Clark was referring to the Fate Stay/Night series, specifically Unlimited Blade Works, the latest installment. It seemed like the sort of thing Clark would be into. Thanks for the review, and glad you liked the chapter!

Emelisa, oh no, please don't die! Clark and Morgan aren't changing weapons, but it's good to know that they can exchange weapons if they have to. (Mostly this is because of Clark, as Morgan does equally well with both Cassie and Vayne, but Clark's kind of hopeless with Cassie). Enjoy the chapter and thanks for reviewing!

skullcandyklive, Cassie's an interesting character, in that while she's perfectly open with being nerdy (she is a book, after all), she doesn't necessarily like to let on about the extent of how nerdy she is. So it's more her feeling secondhand embarrassment that Clark doesn't feel, or something (despite the fact that, let's be real here, out of all of them Cassie's probably into the weirdest stuff .). Glad you liked the chapter!

pokelover01, thanks, I'm glad you liked it! Clark was absolutely referencing Fate Stay/Night, as he is a big fan. Sadly for Annie, the Morrigan's plans for her require her to be injured at least once, but hopefully everyone will get her back! Glad you enjoyed the fights and the reunion between Morgan and Vayne, and hope you like this chapter!

Wisteria, thanks, glad you liked it! The fight scenes are starting to wear on me a little (they're half the reason the chapters take so long now, but we're so close to the end!) As far as Crona and Ragnarok go...well, since I don't want to spoil anything, let me just say that we have seven more chapters (at least)~

Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater or the Fate series.


CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Fata Morgana Pt. 4, The Path I Choose


Rei was falling.

The wind whipped around him as he fell, cold and harsh, the gray bulk of the castle fading away. Above him, he heard a sound like breaking glass, heard someone shout his name. He felt his awareness slipping away, the net of his Soul Perception receding with him as he plummeted towards the ground. At first he could feel only Mordred, then he felt Vayne and Morgan, the airship, the souls of the DWMA operatives that were waiting for their chance to enter the castle. One by one, those lights faded away, starting from the farthest ones, and then he was alone.

He tilted his head back, his stomach lurching as he fell through the sky. The ground was still a long way off. The castle and the airship were far away, and getting farther. He should have been terrified, he should have been screaming. But from this high up, none of this felt real.

This is it, he thought, testing the words out in his mind. This is how I die.

His eyes started to close. Faces flashed through his mind as the world disappeared behind a curtain of black, his sisters, his parents, his friends.

I'm sorry, Annie, Cori, Mom, Dad…

Everyone…

Ayame…

Ayame.

Light flared into the empty net of his Soul Perception, a single bright pinprick. Arms wrapped around his neck, something warm pressing against his chest. He opened his eyes, inhaling deeply in surprise.

Ayame was falling with him, her arms wrapped tightly around him. His mind worked, putting together the sound of breaking glass, the shape that had leaped off the top of the tower. Ayame had broken away from Mordred's hold, had leaped from the tower to catch him. But for what? She was shouting in his ear, but the roar of the wind was stealing her voice. For a moment, he couldn't hear her—

—and then he could.

"—Rei!" she was shouting, her voice sounding small and far away. "Don't give up! Don't give up, Rei!"

Don't give up.

He didn't want to, but—he didn't see what else they could do. They were too far away from the castle. Even the Cloak of Shadows didn't have the reach they needed to get back to where they needed to be. They were in freefall, alone in the sky. From this height, from this speed, it wouldn't even matter what they landed on. At this speed, water would be as hard as land.

There was nothing he could do. There was nothing they could do. It wasn't a question of giving up. They had done all they could, and they were out of options now. He tightened his hold on her, opening his mouth to tell her that.

Her soul flared up inside her chest, a brilliant star. Power pulsed within her, resonating with something inside of him. His heart thumped hard, once, his soul pulsing in response.

The world slowed, the endless sky changing from blue to black in that heartbeat. He was falling through syrup, Ayame clutched tight against his chest, the orb of her soul a brilliant gold in the blacks and whites and grays of this new landscape. There was something in that light, a power that watched him.

No, the power was everywhere. He could feel it in the black sky, in the world around him, could feel it studying him, a presence that watched him from the beyond the black.

Time slowed to a crawl, a trickle.

Eyes of gold appeared in the sky, and behind them formed the body of the stag, melting out of the shadows. It turned its head to face him, and he could feel the weight of that gaze directed on him, directed on the thin wisp of gray light that hovered in the center of his chest, a paltry comparison to the brilliance of Ayame's soul.

A soul that just wanted to hide. That didn't want to be noticed.

A ghost.

No. What was it he had wanted to tell Mordred?

He wasn't a ghost anymore.

"So, little ghost," the stag said, the words echoing in the space around him. "Now, you know who you are."

Yeah.

Rei thought the word as he fell, a wisp of gray in an endless black sky. He understood now, or at least he thought he did. Who he was, and what he wanted to be.

I'm not a warrior, or a demon. But I'm not a ghost.

I still don't think that I have to decide—that I have to pick a path between those three. But if I were a ghost…I'd be helpless.

I wouldn't be able to protect the people important to me. The ones I love. I wouldn't be able to change anything.

I don't want to be a warrior or a demon. I don't care about either of those paths.

I want to be able to change the world. I'll take the path that lets that happen.

And if neither of those paths will fit…

Then I'll just make my own.

Silence. He felt the weight of the stag's regard pressing against his mind, felt the weight of Ayame's soul against his own, the feel of her pressed against his chest. He felt time, second by second, beginning to slip away.

And then, slowly, deliberately, the stag inclined its head towards him.

"Very well, Rei Evans," Rei heard him say. "Show me this new world."

Power flooded through him, bright and hot. Time returned, color bleeding back into the sky as he started to plummet, falling faster and faster towards the earth. The bright orb of Ayame's soul had grown even brighter, larger, swelling until it filled the space around him, until it began to encompass him. And the soul inside of his chest reacted to it, twisting and writhing in the sudden influx of power.

It was euphoric; it was almost painful. Rei tilted his head back, his eyes widening, his mouth opening as his soul shifted within him.

The ghost, forced to reveal itself.

No, Rei thought. Not a ghost anymore.

The orb of his soul twisted and turned in his chest.

On either side of its smoky surface, two forms sprouted, stretching out.

Wings.


Morgan's hand closed around the handle of the pendulum blade, and as it did, Vayne felt himself changing. Her soul expanded to fill the space around her, her wavelength sharp and powerful as it flooded through him, his form changing to suit her. The blade seemed to fold in on itself, the massive pendulum becoming more like a slender dagger. A thin chain extended from the dagger's hilt, wrapping around Morgan's fingertips.

It was more a dart than a pendulum, but in this new form, Vayne felt lighter, able to move quicker. It was as if all of the energy that was normally locked up in the pendulum's mass had been released, as if a whirlwind of power had been unlocked inside of him. Morgan shifted her grip on the chain, catching the flat of the blade lightly with her fingertips as she drew it back to her side. She bounced on the balls of her feet as she took a stance, testing its weight.

"Hmm," she said, as if surprised. "Not bad."

"Well, I'd like to say this doesn't happen often," Vayne said, grinning. "But you know—."

Morgan rolled her eyes, turning to face the giant that stood before them. "Don't make me throw you out of the window, Vayne," she said.

The giant charged, raising its club over its head as it stepped towards them. Morgan raised her hand and lowered her head, muttering an incantation under her breath.

"Corvus, fata, fata morgana…"

Power swelled around her, turning into a cloud of shadow that hovered at her fingertips. The cloud spread out, forming a solid shield at the last moment before impact. The giant's club descended on the shield, bouncing back with a loud clang. Spikes sprouted from the outside of the shield, digging into the giant's skin, but the giant simply swept the spikes aside with an annoyed arm, the shield shattering beneath the impact. Crystals of shadow scattered across the floor, but by then Morgan was already gone, a scowl on her face as she leaped out of the way of the blow, her back to the window.

"Immune to magic," she muttered under her breath. "Of course it is."

And then, before Vayne could make a comment, she threw the dart underhand through the air, keeping a hold of the chain with both her hands as Vayne shot directly towards the giant's eyes.

The giant snarled in annoyance, swatting the dart out of the air, but Morgan simply adjusted her hold on the chain, tugging it downwards. The motion brought with it a change in momentum that Vayne didn't hesitate to take advantage of, banking sharply in the air. At this smaller size, he had more control over his movements, and the dart turned at a sharp angle, shooting straight for the back of the giant's neck.

The giant let out a frustrated growl, sweeping its club back in an attempt to knock Vayne out of the air, but Morgan moved her fingers over the chain in a movement that was both gentle and precise, and pressed down. Vayne felt her intent travel across the chain towards him, borne aloft by the currents of her soul wavelength, so that it was almost as if she was there with him, whispering into his ear.

His heart leaped as he followed, the dart and chain wrapping tightly around the giant's club and forearm. He grit his teeth, translating as much of his strength and momentum into the chain as possible, so that when Morgan planted her feet on the ground and tugged sharply on the chain, the whole giant came falling over, crashing face first into her desk and crushing the structure beneath it.

Morgan wasted no time. She tugged on the chain to unwind it from around the giant, making a run for the door. Quoth swept down from the rafters just as she reached it, claws digging into her shoulder as he spread his wings to soften his landing. In the room behind her, the giant growled, sliding one arm beneath itself as it tried to get up. Before it could, though, Morgan tugged the dart back into the hallway behind her, then raised both of her hands, one pointed towards the tower ceiling and the other towards the door.

"Be sealed," Morgan muttered to herself, swiping her hand across the doorway in a complicated pattern. The other hand, the one pointed at the ceiling, burst into flames. Dark fire hovered in the center of her palm, wreathing her fingertips, and the tower ceiling crumbled as she thrust her hand up, flames engulfing the stones as they came crashing down towards the giant.

It was almost an explosion. Vayne stared, looking up from the ground at Morgan as she lowered her hands, staring at the flames that filled the space where her old room had been. Her face was flushed with fury and exertion, and there was something on her face that he wasn't sure he had seen before.

A grin, almost manic as she surveyed the flames and destruction on the other side of her barrier. Vayne cleared his throat.

"Uh—Morgan?" he began.

"I'd forgotten what it felt like," Morgan said, power still crackling around her. "This much magic, this much power…"

She exhaled, curling her fingers inward and flexing them again, sparks of magic dancing across her skin. Then, her eyes seemed to clear as she reached out, the fingers of one hand brushing against a black cord tied to her wrist. She wound the chain tighter between her hands, lifting the dart up off the ground.

"Come on," she said, turning towards the stairs. "Let's leave this place."

Vayne nodded as she turned, running down the stairs. She didn't look back.


Micah raised his sword as Angela approached, batting away her initial spear strike. The wind spears followed behind her, shooting towards his chest. His free hand moved, a card flashing in his palm as he held his hand out towards the incoming spears. The Hierophant. A barrier formed in the air in front of him, catching the spears and bouncing them back at her.

The spears parted before they could strike her this time, Shelley's glasses gleaming in the white void of her soul space as she extended her hands to either side of her. They reformed behind her as Angela shifted her grip on her spear, sweeping the blade beneath Micah's sword and slashing at his torso.

Micah jerked back, avoiding the blow. He left a card behind as he leaped backward, the card hovering in the air where it had been. Angela had half a second to glimpse the image inscribed into it—The Sun—before the light that surrounded the card spread, forming a ball of searing hot fire. It shot towards her, enormous in the enclosed space, filling up her vision. From somewhere behind her, she heard Cori scream.

Angela's eyes widened, and she leaped backwards towards the girl, the wind pushing her onward as the flames rushed towards them both. She let go of her spear, the point thrusting down into the ground as she wrapped her arms around the girl's shoulders.

"Infinite Spear Strikes: Salvation!" she shouted, shutting her eyes.

An array of spears appeared in the space beside the spear she had thrust into the ground, four of them in all forming a half circle around her and Cori. In the last instant before the flames struck, a wall of wind rose up between the spears, the flames striking the wall.

The world turned white behind her eyelids, and Angela could feel the heat of the flames against her back. Beneath her grip, Cori went tense. Angela could hear the little girl's breath coming hard and fast in her ear, her heart racing.

Then it was over. The roar of the flames died down, the heat dying with it. She opened her eyes and spun quickly, turning to face Micah. He stood on the other side of the burned and gutted library, his eyes sweeping over the shelves and walls with a look of regret. For a moment, he seemed to have forgotten that she was there.

The Sun card drifted to the ground, its energy momentarily spent. Angela stared at him in disbelief, pushing Cori back into the safety of her corner.

"Are you insane?" she asked. "You could have killed her!"

"A waste," Micah agreed, "But I was running out of options."

His tone was genuinely regretful, enough that for a moment Angela stopped. Then, she realized that his regrets weren't directed towards her or Cori, but to the books that had burned in the attack. Anger flooded through her, and she reached out and grabbed the spear's shaft with one hand, feeling the warmth in the metal from the heat of the flames. In her soul space, Shelley breathed hard, exhausted but ready.

"Are you telling me you didn't even care about Cori at all?" Angela asked, her eyes narrowing.

Micah glanced at her, a questioning frown on his face. He looked almost sad that she had asked the question. "Of course I care," he said. "But you saved her, didn't you?"

Images flashed through her mind—her first day at the DWMA, deciding to partner with Shelley, meeting Micah and Luna. Her excitement when Shelley and Micah first started dating, having to take Shelley's call the day that Shelley discovered the truth about what Micah had done, having to hold her partner while she cried and screamed and raged about the injustice of it all. Having to watch the light die from her partner's eyes, only to watch it come back slowly over a period of two years, only to see it die all over again.

It had been Shelley that Micah had hurt the most. But that didn't mean that he hadn't hurt Angela too.

He had hurt all of them.

She grit her teeth and sucked in a breath, feeling the wind patterns change around her, Shelley's ability reacting to the shifts in Angela's soul wavelength. Unlike most witches, her magic didn't have a destructive component. It was incredibly useful, could do a lot of things, but it had never been destructive. Like Kimial Diehl, she had grown to maturity never having to worry about the Pull of Magic, at least not the way other witches felt it. Her 'Pull' had been mischievous, more a temptation to pull pranks or skirt the boundaries of the law than to cause any grievous harms, and even that Pull had been tempered by both Kim's magic and Mifune's teachings.

She had never felt the urge to hurt and destroy. To kill.

But now, standing in front of Micah, feeling Shelley's power in her hand, the way her wavelength fed her weapon's, she wondered if this was what the Pull of Magic was supposed to feel like. Because for the first time in her life, she wanted to tear him apart.

Breathe, she told herself, remembering Mifune's teachings. Don't let him get to you.

"…Angela?" Shelley asked, looking back at her.

She didn't answer. "No harm no foul?!" she asked Micah instead, incredulous. "That's your excuse for this? You could have killed an eight-year-old girl, and your only excuse is that it didn't happen?!"

Micah scowled at her.

"I knew you would save her," he said. "I'm aware of what you can do. If you want to keep her safe, then stop fighting. The only reason she's in danger right now is because you barged in here in the first place, trying to save her. And for what? She's safer with us than she would ever be with you."

A thousand words passed through Angela's mind at once, a thousand outraged responses. She was aware, on some distant level, that if she was thinking more calmly she would have tried to pick apart his words more, tried to see what he was getting at, what he might have been giving away, but at the moment she only saw red. Cori was only in danger because of them? Cori was safer with Micah? None of that made any sense.

And she was sick of it. There were a thousand words she could say.

But at the end of the day, she didn't say anything at all.

She tightened her grip on the spear instead, ripping it out of the ground as she let power run through it. The wind spears that had protected her and Cori rose up as well, their points shooting towards Micah.

"Infinite Spear Strikes…" she said under her breath. "Retribution."

The spears shot towards him at once, the full weight of the power that had been built into their wall rushing towards Micah. His eyes widened, and he leaped back, avoiding the first of the blows and summoning The Hierophant a second time to block the others, but Angela was already moving. She ducked beneath his shield, using Shelley's wind to speed herself up as she leaped into the air towards him.

"Infinite Spear Strikes," she said, stabbing her spear down. "Dissection."

The spear struck home, all of the wind that she had brought to bear focusing at the point of the spear's blade. That wind came apart, an infinite number of tiny blades erupting from the spear's point at once. It was a cruel attack, inflicted on a person. Her most powerful attack at close range. Easy to dodge, but if it landed, if it managed to find an unprotected point, the power behind it could easily reduce a person into a fine red mist.

Angela had never used it against a living person. She didn't use it against a living person now.

The point of her spear sank deep into the guard of Micah's sword, knocking the sword out of his hands with a twist of her wrist. The wind exploded outwards from the tip of her spear, tearing the blade apart.


Maka charged at the Morrigan without hesitation, swinging Soul's blade overhead with a shout of fury. The Morrigan stepped away, all grace and shadows, her arm tightening around Annie. She was still smiling as she landed on the ground, the fabric of her dress settling around her.

"Now, Maka, that was reckless," she said. "What would you have done if you'd hurt this sweet little angel?"

"We'd never hurt Annie," Maka said, her eyes narrowing. "Let her go."

"Or what?" the Morrigan asked. "You'll kill me? You'll find I'm not as weak as the witch whose soul powers your partner there." She inclined her head towards Soul with a nod, the smile never leaving her face.

"Huh, that's interesting," Maka said, tucking Soul's handle under her arm as she shifted her grip on him to one hand, the scythe blade stretched out to her side. "You'll find we aren't as weak as we were when we killed her."

The Morrigan's smile widened, threatening to split her face in two. In her arms, Annie squirmed, struggling to break free. The Morrigan tightened her grip on her, and Annie let out a pained squeak, falling still.

"You never fail to amuse me," the Morrigan said. "But I'm afraid we're out of time. Give your Shinigami my regards."

"Maka!" Soul said, his eyes wide with warning.

Maka's eyes widened as she saw the Morrigan reach back, her hand passing through a shadow behind her. The shadow stretched and grew, becoming a thin portal the Morrigan's height, a tear in the fabric of reality. She reached for her Anti-Magic Wavelength, charging forward with a shout of rage.

"No!" she screamed, stretching out her free hand towards Annie, struggling to send that power forth, to stop the Morrigan from stepping through the portal.

Annie pulled her arm out of the Morrigan's grasp, her eyes wide and face wet with tears as she stretched her hand out, reaching for Maka.

"Mama!" she screamed, leaning forward.

Their fingertips brushed against each other's. Maka saw Annie start to glow, start to transform. She raised her hand, ready to catch her daughter's weapon form.

Then the Morrigan fell backward, dragging Annie with her through the portal. Annie screamed as the portal rose up to engulf her, the light around her fading. Maka spurred herself forward, her eyes wide, her hand outstretched as she tried to will herself to go faster, faster as Annie started sinking, shadows encircling her.

She was so close. She was almost there—

She wasn't going to make it in time.

A black chain shot past her, wrapping tight around Annie and the Morrigan both. The chain went taut, pulling the two of them out of the portal. Maka's eyes widened as a presence filled the air, someone landing on the ground behind her.

Black Star grinned, gripping the chain with one hand, the other hand wrapped tight around the long blade of the Chain of Blackness, the sword curved wickedly behind him. He straightened up, his eyes on the Morrigan.

"Found you," he said.


"Ah, why do I know what that is?!" Cassie shouted, pressing her earphones against her ears with both of her hands as light flared up around her, filling the void of her soul space. "Why do I know what that is?!"

Light emanated from inside the Grimoire, growing and expanding as it poured out into the space around Clark and Grayson, transforming it. Clark grinned as he turned to face Grayson, the book in his hands dissolving to create the illusion. An endless desert, populated with swords, their points stabbed deep into the earth. Grayson blinked, halting his charge as he looked around, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"What?" he asked. "What did you just do, Greysteil?"

Clark didn't bother to answer. Instead, he ran towards Grayson, grabbing one of the nearest swords with his right hand. He leaped into the air and thrust the sword at Grayson's face, already reaching for another. When Grayson raised his arm, blocking the thrust with the metal of his gauntlet, Clark quickly twisted around, pushing off of Grayson's arm and bringing the second sword to bear as he slipped beneath Grayson's defenses. He lashed out with the sword, slashing at Grayson's midsection.

Grayson snarled, shoving at Clark with the side of his gauntlet. Clark jumped back before the blow could connect fully, so that the end result was that he was gently pushed away from the other boy. He landed lightly on the packed earth, feeling the weight of the swords in his hand, feeling a grin start to spread over his face.

"What is this?" Grayson asked, gesturing at the field around them. "What the hell did you do?"

"I opened a book," Clark said. "I know that's a foreign concept to you, but try to keep up."

Grayson growled, his face contorting in anger and rage. "You'll pay for that!" he said, launching himself at Clark. He moved with lightning speed, drawing his hand back. Clark's eyes widened, and he quickly darted back, getting out of the way. The blow, when it came, split the earth where Clark had been standing a moment ago, kicking up clods of dirt.

"Enough bull-baiting!" Cassie said, her voice coming from nowhere and everywhere at once. "This is kind of an enormous working, so if you could—you know—beat him up already?"

"Aw, but I haven't even said the chant yet," Clark said, looking up from where he was running away.

"No!" said Cassie. "No chant, no time! You aren't Archer, so get a move on!"

Clark sighed, skidding to a stop so that he was facing Grayson. "Fine," he said. "Whatever. You win. Trace on, then."

"Shut the hell up," Grayson said. "What makes you think you can beat me alone? I've gotten stronger. I'm not going to lose to you!"

Clark shook his head, holding a sword in each hand as he faced Grayson squarely. "See, here's the thing, Grayson. You're not the only one that's gotten stronger. And, you made a mistake." He reversed his grip on one of the swords, readjusting the way his fingers rested around the hilt. "I'm not fighting alone."

He charged at Grayson then, a whirlwind of steel. Grayson's eyes widened and he stepped back, automatically raising his gauntlet to protect his face, but this time Clark didn't even attempt to slash at him just then. He leaped into the air, planting his foot squarely on the side of Grayson's gauntlet and kicking off of it. The force behind the kick made Grayson stumble back, and Clark used his newly acquired momentum to land on the ground just behind Grayson, slashing twice with his sword in quick succession. The blades struck home, two shallow cuts appearing across Grayson's back and shoulders, nearly parallel.

Grayson let out a shout of rage, spinning around to face Clark with surprising speed. Clark turned aside, shifting his weight as he reached up with his sword. He didn't attempt to block the incoming punch head on, but instead used the flat of the blade to deflect it, using Grayson's energy and strength against him. The blade slid along the inside of Grayson's metal gauntlet as he stepped in, slamming the hilt of the sword in his other hand into Grayson's chin. Grayson grunted, the blow making his head snap back, but he recovered quickly, planting his feet and letting out a shout of effort as he swept his arm through the air where Clark was standing. Clark quickly ducked out of the way, sliding underneath Grayson's arm so that the two of them were nearly back-to-back. He hooked his ankle around Grayson's own and pulled. Grayson went down like a sack of bricks, slamming into the earth.

Clark didn't waste any time. He followed Grayson down, digging his elbow into the space between the other boy's shoulder blades. With his other hand, he reached around, slipping the sword beneath Grayson's head and holding the blade to his neck.

"What do you think?" Clark asked, breathing hard and grinning. "Ready to give up yet?"

Grayson's reply was a roar of rage. He slapped at the earth with his gauntlet and turned, the energy behind the motion enough to send Clark flying. The sword scratched at the side of Grayson's face as he fell, but the wound was practically superficial, and Clark struck the earth hard, the blow almost enough to knock the wind out of him. He hit the ground and rolled, one of the swords flying out of his hand, the other snapping in half as it hit the bare earth.

Grayson charged at him, nearly incomprehensible with anger. Clark grit his teeth and scowled back, leaping to his feet and grabbing the nearest sword.

Alright, he thought, feeling electricity start to course through his veins as he wiped dirt and sweat off of his face. We can play it your way.

He turned aside Grayson's blows with his sword, stepping nimbly out of the way. As he moved, he looked up at the sky, searching for any sign of Cassie. "Hey, Cass," he said. "I need a chain."

"What kind of chain?" Cassie asked.

"Uh—I don't know," Clark said, stepping back. "A long one. Look, sorry, can you—can you be Vayne?"

"Wow," said Cassie. "Can I be Vayne? I feel so valued."

"Well, can you?" Clark asked, turning away a blow to his face.

"One ridiculously oversized weapon coming up," Cassie said with a long sigh. "Seriously, Clark, you compensating for something?"

Light materialized in the space in front of him, between his swords and Grayson's next blow. Clark dropped the swords and quickly grabbed at it, twisting away from a punch that threatened to take his head off. The light began to shift and change, becoming a passable imitation of Vayne's weapon form, complete with chain. On the outside, it looked almost indistinguishable from Vayne's pendulum blade, but it felt—wrong somehow. Different. It didn't have any life, any soul. He understood as soon as his hand closed around its handle that it wasn't Vayne. It wasn't even Cassie. It was just Cassie doing her best to create Vayne's weapon form from memory.

But that was fine. It was close enough.

As Grayson charged in, Clark wrapped the chain tight around his fingers, charging forward to meet him. He met Grayson's punch with the side of the false pendulum blade and flung his other hand out, tossing the chain around Grayson's neck. He caught it as it came around, doing another loop around Grayson's waist, around his arms, around his leg. By the time he pulled away, Grayson was thoroughly entangled in the chain, and he let out a curse as he fell to the ground, landing with a sharp thud and starting to thrash.

"Oh, stop that," said Clark, letting a trickle of his Paralyzing Wavelength move from his soul to his fingertips. He jabbed two fingers into the small of Grayson's back, and Grayson tensed before his head lolled forward, his mouth falling open. The space around him faded into light as Cassie released her hold on the illusion, the light coalescing into Cassie's human shape as she landed on the tiled floor beside him. She looked at Grayson with alarm.

"Clark," she said, "Is he—?"

"He's not dead," said Clark, frowning as he flexed his fingers, his eyes fixed on the palm of his hand. "I only used a little bit of it."

The power was still there, still inside of him, still aching to be used, but he had managed to cut it off this time, to use only a little of it. It wasn't something he wanted to do again. He clenched his fist together tightly, feeling his nails dig into his palm, the sensation bringing him back to reality.

He was breathing hard, covered in sweat and exhausted, body and soul, but at least that was over. They had beaten and captured Grayson, they had managed to get away from the Morrigan's security, but he couldn't get into another battle. The only thing he could do now was hope that Vayne or Rei had managed to find Morgan, that someone had managed to find Rei's sisters. He turned towards Cassie, about to tell her that they should call for help with Grayson and head back to the ship, when he caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye. Clark spun, putting himself between Cassie and the threat, his arm out to stop her from moving forward.

His eyes widened when he saw who it was, a wave of cold running through his heart.

Elaine Greysteil stood in the entrance to the hallway, the pale pink glow of the Magatama around her hands, her eyes, cold and dead, fixed on him.


The sky fell away beneath them as they rose, the wind whipping around them as they shot towards the sky. Rei soared higher, wrapped up in the feel of the power coursing through him, of Ayame's wavelength suffusing his soul, a fire deep within his chest. He could still see the stag's golden eyes as he rose, could feel the power that crackled around him like lightning.

Higher and higher, until they had passed the airship, until they had crested the top of the tower. Until he could see Mordred standing there, could see the sorcerer turning towards him, eyes wide with surprise.

Sunlight gleamed off of the bladed edges of his wings.

The Cloak of Shadows had been transformed completely, wings sprouting from either side of the garment's back. They gleamed black, feathers made of shadow and steel. The wings stretched on either side of him as he hovered in the sky, pulsing with the power that came from the little winged soul inside of his chest.

His Grigori soul.

Mordred stared up at him, surprise and disbelief written all over his face.

"No," he said. "That's not possible."

In response, Rei stretched out his hand towards Mordred, wind whipping at his hair and the fabric of his clothes.

Feathers shot through the air towards Mordred, a rain of blades. Mordred's eyes widened, and he raised his arms to protect himself, a dome of power and light appearing in the air around him. Dust rose from the rooftop as blades crashed down, tearing through the stone and obscuring Mordred from view.

Rei sank down out of the air, landing softly on one of the tower's crenellations. His foot touched the stone first, the rest of his weight sinking down behind it as he looked across the top of the tower, at the dust cloud where Mordred had been. The rooftop had been pitted and scored by the blades, gouges in the stone at his feet.

The wings retracted at his direction, slowly folding inward. Rei glanced at them out of the corner of his eye, flexing one of them with a thought. He felt the strength contained in this new form, the bond between him and Ayame. Within her soul space, wrapped up in this new Cloak, in the formation of these wings, Ayame breathed hard, her violet eyes gleaming.

"Huh…" Rei said, speaking under his breath. "Not bad."

"Seriously?!" Ayame asked, looking up at him in disbelief. "Could you be any more anticlimactic?!"