When they get outside, chaos is reigning.

"What the fuck is going on?" Maka asks to the nearest person darting by, a NOT class kid who stops only long enough to answer.

"The witches are rebelling, apparently the truce negotiations went to hell," the kid says in one breath before running off.

Maka pales. "Shit. Then that's why the phoenix was so happy to go to the meetings."

"We need to fix this," Soul says from her side.

"Transform, we're flying there- oh wait."

"Right," he flatly says. "No body, remember?"

She chuckles awkwardly. "Yeah. Let's get moving, anyway."

They manage to avoid an incoming attack from what appears to be a pigeon witch, and nearly get sliced in half by a meister with a katana before they've even walked two blocks, which doesn't fare well for them. Halfway through, a misdirected attack from a DWMA student wielding a morning star weapon makes the front wall of a building come crumbling down.

"Who are you even trying to attack?" screeches Maka, at the same time that a very disgruntled Gopher appears in the midst of wall plaster.

"We're trying to have some privacy here," he snaps, and from behind him come three shirtless Noahs that try and coax him back inside, where they start feeding him grapes and massaging his back.

Both Maka and Soul try to shake the disturbing image out of their minds as they keep running.

A bewildered Kid is standing at the foot of the steps leading to the DWMA while Liz and Patti bark orders and demand explanations behind him.

"Maka!" he sighs when he sees her, relieved. "Thank Death. Where have you been? What's going on?"

"To put it short?" she groans. "An evil phoenix-thing stole Soul's body, and apparently it's been wrecking the peace with the witches."

Kid pales. "Oh dear. That's not good."

"No shit," Liz says from behind him. "How did that happen, anyway?"

Maka shakes her head. "No time for explaining. We just have to get Soul's body back and get everyone to stop fighting now."

"That won't be easy," Liz dryly says. "No one has even bothered to stop and explain to us what the hell is going on."

"Is everyone from Spartoi here?" Soul asks, and Maka passes on his question to the others.

"No, Tsubaki and Black*Star are in Japan, and Ox and Harvar are on a mission in Canada- Wait, what do you mean 'Soul asks'?"

"Soul is here," Maka explains, waving her hands in the air non-committally. "Non-corporeal at the moment, but here. Or not here. Or something. We really don't have the time for this."

"Agreed," Kid nods, and calls for his weapons. "You two try to get his body back before any more damage is done, we'll try and take care of the rest."

They only hear Patti cheer, "Yay! We're gonna kick some ass!" in the distance before they start running yet again.

Maka doesn't go very far before she crashes into someone - someone gigantic-sized, with threatening, bulging muscles- and a white-haired companion.

"Oh," gasps the witch, extending a hand to help her up. "It's Crona's friend. Do you know what is going on?"

Relaxing her fighting stance, Maka takes the offered hand, recognizing Eruka Frog and Free the Werewolf. "You're not our enemies anymore?"

Eruka and Free share a look, shrugging. "We were only in on the fight because Medusa was making us. We kind of got sick of it, though, so we ran off."

"Oh. Okay, then," Maka says, still eyeing them somewhat warily. "Wow, this is weird, but I'll try to explain this fast because we need all the help we can get. So, apparently an evil bird took over Soul's body and ruined the treaty between the witches and the DWMA, and now everyone is fighting - can you help spread the word that this is just a major misunderstanding?"

Free offers her a wide grin, pointy teeth all out; if she didn't deal with Soul on a daily basis, she would have thought of it as intimidating, but as it is she can recognize it for the friendly gesture it is. "Sure thing, little meister. Try to not get in too much trouble, will you?"

Eruka scoffs. "Like you're the kind of person who can say that, you hypocrite - all you ever do is get in trouble!"

The werewolf kisses the knuckles of her fingers in return; the witch flushes darkly before snapping her hand back and yelling, "You can't solve all your problems by fighting or flirting!"

Free fails to look properly chastised. Maka sweatdrops.

"Uh, I really should be going-"

"Oh, sorry!" says the white-haired witch. "We should be going as well. Good luck!"

"And try not to fall over anyone else," guffaws Free, waving at her disappearing form.

"Any ideas on where the damn bird is?"

Soul groans. "And you only ask this now?"

Maka smiles sheepishly. "I kind of forgot."

"No," her weapon says. "I don't know where it is. But I think I know of a way to get my body back once we find it."

"Why haven't you mentioned this before? Kid could-"

Soul interrupts her. "Kid can't do anything, okay? It's between me and that damn thing- and you."

"Me?"

"Yes, just-"

"Makaaaaaaa!"

Maka groans. "Not now."

Spirit Albarn nearly manages to tackle his daughter to the ground in a pouncing hug. "Maka, my babyyyyy, you're okay!"

She bats away at his hands, growling lowly in the back of her throat. "Now is not the time, Papa!"

"Papa knows, darling- But Papa saw your stupid dumbass weapon wandering off without you. I should have never have trusted that stupid boy to keep you protected-"

Maka freezes. "Wait, you saw Soul?"

"Yes, and I'm going to kill that awful boy when I see him-"

"Where was he?" she snaps, pushing him back firmly. "Papa, where was he?"

"In the academy, near Lord Death's office, but-"

"Thank you, Papa!" Maka yells, and runs off towards Shibusen yet again.

After the treaty had been established, most of the witches living under disguise in Death City had come out of hiding, ready to live their lives without fear of being hunted down for their souls - though the prejudice is still strong in people's hearts. The new opportunities offered by the treaty had had even more of them moving in; the sheer numbers of the witch population in Death City are only clear now, when the promise of peace is gone, the new lives they had been promised quickly degenerating into fighting for their lives once again.

"We really need to stop this," gasps Maka, feeling the beginnings of a stitch developing on her side. "We have to reach Shibusen fast, before it gets away."

"We'd be there right now if someone hadn't taken off without even having a direction," Soul deadpans.

"Shut up," she snaps. "I'm not feeling up with dealing with your snark right now. At all."

Soul wisely chooses to keep his mouth shut until the giant staircase that leads up to the academy comes back into sight; both weapon and meister let out a sigh of relief when they see it.

"Almost there," Soul encourages.

They race up the staircase, Maka already out of breath; for once, Soul is glad for not needing to breathe in his state. These past few weeks without missions and recovering from injuries have taken their toll, and Maka feels it more than ever.

"It's probably going in search of Lord Death's secret files," Soul says, looking helplessly at his panting meister. "Look on the bright side, at least the office is not on the top floor."

"No shit," Maka pants. "Oh, Death - I haven't felt this out of shape since I was a rookie."

"You just raced all the way across the city, most people couldn't have made it through more than a few blocks," he comforts. He also deliberately ignores that 'most people' don't fight corrupted souls on a daily basis and swing around heavy weapons all day if necessary.

Even within the DWMA everything is a mess, NOT students panicking and running around aimlessly; two or three crash into Maka and don't bother to apologize as they keep running and running and fucking running all over the place like ants.

"Why the fuck does everyone keep getting in my way?" Maka hisses as she shoves yet another pair of students out of her way. "We're kind of in a hurry to stop a war, people!"

"But they don't know that," Soul replies. "At this point, getting a megaphone and yelling at them would be a better solution."

The meister groans. "None of this would be necessary if we hadn't gone after the damn phoenix in the first place."

Soul looks guilty. "Yeah, about that. I was trying to tell you a few minutes ago, but-"

Maka squints at him suspiciously. "What did you do?"

"I made a deal with it," he confesses. "With the phoenix."

"You what?"

Soul tries really hard not to wince at what he sees in his meister's eyes. "I made a deal with it." Maka tries to interrupt, but he cuts her short, knowing that she'll probably repay him with plenty well-deserved Maka-Chops when he gets his body back. "No, just listen- If I hadn't, neither of us would have come out of there alive."

Maka shakes her head. "There's no way you could have known that."

"It spoke to me, Maka. That thing? It can get inside your brain, talk to you without anyone else listening, stop you from functioning. Trust me, I know what it would have done - if one of us hadn't come out, how long until someone found our clues and lost their soul down there as well? They wouldn't know about the danger; at least this way one of us made it back and was able to stop anyone else from coming."

"It could have been you, though," Maka bitterly says. "It would have been better if you were the one to come back. It should have been you, so why me?"

There is a sad, self-deprecating smile drawing itself on his lips. "Because I'm selfish," he says and the words taste like truth to him. "Because I can't imagine this world without you in it."

The background resonance is pulsating wildly, and it tells him that she'd very much like to punch him, scold him, and maybe, perhaps, drown him in her affections once the anger went away.

"It's the same for me, you fucking idiot. How did you think I felt?"

Fuck. There are tears swimming in her eyes- He made her cry. He's making her cry. Shit. Shit. Shit.

He waves his hands helplessly around her shoulders, remembering belatedly that he can't touch her in his non-corporeal form. "Shit, Maka, I-"

"I can't believe you went and sacrificed yourself again for me. We talked about this, Soul!"

"It's not like there was time to think about it," he snaps. "It was this or die. Listen, we'll talk about this later, okay? There are lives at stake here."

"Fine," she grumbles, narrowing her eyes at him. "But we will talk about this later, mark my words!"

"I'm almost sorry to interrupt your lover's spat," comes Soul's amused voice from behind them. Maka jumps, immediately adopting a defensive stance while the real Soul tries to put himself between his meister and the incoming threat, only to be reminded that there isn't much he can do in this form. "But I'm actually not."

"You," Maka hisses.

"Yes, me," it smirks, walking deliberately towards them. "I was waiting for you, actually."

Soul and Maka exchange bewildered looks. "What?"

"You see, I quite like this body." It narrows its eyes, the red so characteristic of Soul nearly unrecognizable. "So I'll make it permanent - and for that, I need to get rid of your soul."

"Not when I'm around," Maka snarls. "Soul Resonance!"

Her fingertips are sizzling with energy; it travels up her arms, spreads over her chest, flares up wildly as their souls come together even more deeply. The background resonance is nothing compared to this, even their strongest doesn't reach the level of this one; this is an all-consuming fire, but benevolent and fierce and bright unlike how the flames from the phoenix had been. This is the merging of their souls into one, the Soul Resonance in its purest form.

I can feel you, comes a whisper in the mind; neither of them is sure on who said it, or if it evens matters. His hands are hers, hers are his; there are no more borders between their beings, their minds, their souls.

It feels like life and death and love, and they are one.

What's going on?

I don't know, but it feels good.

They flex their fingers.

Do you think- ?

Let's try.

Electricity snaps in their veins; there is a weird, sliding sensation in the back of their arm that Soul knows well but Maka doesn't. There is a blade sprouting out in a flash of light, a zigzagging pattern of green and black decorating the deadly weapon.

Did you know we could do this?

No. Maybe it has to do with your weapon gene - we're still in your body, after all.

Maybe. We should talk to Kid about this, later.

Later.

"What did you do?" the phoenix hisses, eyes darting wildly. "You stupid fucks. I'll kill you both now!"

But the attack it throws misses; they avoid it by a wide margin, flipping out of the way with ease. The tips of their hair float into sight, less ash-blond and more white; Soul snickers inwardly.

Hey, why don't you grow some wings as well? Seeing as you're super-soul-weapon now and all.

Shut uuuuup.

More blades sprout out nearly effortlessly, guided by Soul's weapon instincts and years of practice; they slice down onto the imposter in Soul's body but are also blocked by its own set of blades.

"You're not the only ones with weapons around here," it snarls, and gigantic balls of flame fly in their direction. The phoenix doesn't give them time to rest; when they aren't blocking attacks from the incoming blades with their own, they're avoiding fireballs, flipping away from sharp feathers that seem to fly out of nowhere.

We can't hurt it - if we do, it's your body being wounded.

I know, Soul's part of the mind growls. But look at it. It's not even trying to hurt us. None of the attacks were the kind we couldn't avoid, it's just trying to tire us out.

It can't hurt us for some reason. Soul, you said you made a deal. What exactly did you agree on?

Dread coils in the bottom of their gut; one of the sharp feathers nearly slices their left arm, and they don't miss the panic in their opponent's eyes.

Shit. Maka, no.

Tell me.

I-

Tell me!

They lunge for the impostor's arm. It's by instinct that it turns around and kicks them in the stomach, sending them flying out of the nearest window in a shower of blood and glass at the same time the nature of the contract is revealed.

"MAKA!"

The voice of her partner is a blessing amongst the pain in her back; his hands are the best thing she has ever felt as they caress her face, her arms, comb through her hair and soothe the buzzing sounds in her ears.

"It's gonna be alright, Maka," he chokes out. "It's gonna be alright. You've been through worse. You're a bit beat up, but you're going to have to get up, okay?"

"My back hurts," she hears herself say. "And I'm kind of dizzy."

"Your fall was cushioned but you went through glass, so I know you aren't feeling the best. We'll take care of it - but you need to get up soon, like now,"

"Why? she moans. "I don't want to."

"I know you don't," he strokes the hair over her forehead, getting it out of her eyes. "But there's kind of a giant evil phoenix flying towards us, so we need to move!"

"What?"

"Exactly what you heard," says another voice. The sounds interfering with her hearing start to disappear, and now all she can hear is the urgency of his tone. Her eyes snap open.

"Soul? What's going on?"

But it's not Soul who answers. Maka turns to Kilik as he gestures towards the flaming predator soaring across the sky, Pot of Thunder and Pot of Fire written over the metallic combat gloves settled comfortably on his hands. "Giant evil bird thing, you know the drill."

"Oh," she faintly says. "Right. That's not good."

"Understatement of the year," her weapon dryly says, helping her up. "Fortunately, you appear to have friends that refuse to let you go."

Maka looks to where she had been laying, not hard enough to be the asphalted ground she had been expecting. "Oh," she gasps again.

"Yep," Kilik smiles. "Apparently locking themselves with Asura on the moon is not enough for some people."

"Crona," Maka whispers, and realizes that her friend had been watching over her - because even with crushed leaves and petals, she can still recognize Crona's roses, the same ones that had been sprouting everywhere since the battle of the moon.

"No one even realized it was from Crona," Soul explains. "But apparently they learned some tricks from Arachne and split pieces of their soul."

"And sent them to Death City," Maka breathes. "To watch over us."

It's still daytime, far too early for the moon to be up, but Maka looks up towards the sky with tears in her eyes and a 'thank you' on her lips.

"Incoming evil thing alert!"

Confused screams sound out as a great wave of flames invades the streets; Kilik shakes his head. "We need to evacuate the civilians, but it's going to be pretty hard with all the fighting going on. Any ideas?"

Soul shakes his head. "We already kind of ruined its plan, I figure that now it's just in plain rage mode."

"Wait," Maka looks bewilderedly at her weapon. "When did you get your body back?"

"Jeez, you only noticed now?" He shakes his head with a grim smile. "The contract was broken when you got hurt - only now we have a raging firebird attacking Death City."

"That's never a good thing," comes an amiable voice from behind them. It's deep, almost musical-sounding, and terribly familiar even though Maka is absolutely sure she's never heard it before. Soul freezes beside her. "Nice to see you, little brother."

"Wes," Soul starts, and Maka notices that he's shaking. "What are you doing here?"

"Came for a visit," the voice says, and Maka turns at last to face its owner, seeing as it looks like her partner won't be doing it anytime soon - she can nearly taste the apprehension in his soul. "Though this might not be the best time for it."

At first glance, he looks just like her weapon; at a second look, he does not. They could not be related at all if it weren't for the bone structure, the somehow elegant half-slouch they carry themselves in, the long fingers built for creating all kinds of wonderful things. Wes has the kind of look that stems from long-term confidence though, and the kind of clothes and manner of talking that speak of a classy upbringing. She wonders how different the brothers had grown after Soul had left and found her.

"You must be Maka," he charmingly says, walking over to her and kissing both her cheeks. It's a strangely European gesture; it startles her before she returns the greeting, blushing all the while.

"Yes," she says, casting her weapon another glance. "I am. I'm guessing you're Soul's brother?"

Soul is glaring at him, eyes firmly fixed on her burning face and on the hand that rises to lightly touch the places she had been kissed. She flushes even more when she sees him watching her, and quickly turns her head away.

"Soul never talked much about you," Maka says. "But I'm glad to meet you. I'm just sorry it's under such a situation."

"It's fine," the young man dismisses, waving his hand nonchalantly. With every sentence spoken he looks less and less like his younger brother. "I'm terribly sorry I arrived without warning, but we tried to call several times and the call only got through once - and that time it was very hard to understand what was being said."

Soul still hasn't moved from the same place, but Wes gets to him in two strides and pulls him into a tight hug. His voice sounds choked when he says, "I've missed you, little bro."

And then Soul hugs him back, his soul overflowing with the kinds of feelings that bring happy tears to Maka's eyes; the tiny bits of his soul that are still damaged are finally starting to heal, and she couldn't be more glad.

"We really have to get moving," Kilik whispers in her ear, not wanting to ruin the moment either.

"I know," she whispers back. "Just give them a minute."

And she wipes away a tear.

"THIS IS A MAJOR MISUNDERSTANDING, PEOPLE - STOP ATTACKING EACH OTHER."

A deer witch and a Shibusen pair stop in the middle of an attack, looking at them with a confused expression.

"We're at war, though," says the meister, and the ax he's wielding momentarily grows a head that nods along to the words.

"Yeah," says the witch, looking at Soul venomously. "He made sure of that."

Soul holds his hands up conciliatory. "That was actually an imposter, not me. I'm all for the peace thing we had going on. If you see a giant evil phoenix, that's who- what brought us back to war. Believe it, I'm not the enemy. "

"Oh yeah?" The witch narrows her eyes, and her deer hat does the same. "Prove it."

Soul simply points up as the firebird flies across the sky, setting everything on its path on fire. Both opponents blanch.

"Oh," they faintly say. "Okay."

Maka groans. "There's still like half of Shibusen fighting with the witches all over, we'll never be able to warn them all."

"We don't need to," Soul replies. "They'll catch on soon enough - the word will spread, plus it's kind to miss that monster bird blowing fire all over the city."

Maka hesitates. "I guess."

"Sooo, you guys do this kind of thing every day?"

"Kind of," Maka amiably answers. "Sometimes it's better, sometimes it's worse."

"Yeah," Soul snorts. "At least this once we only nearly died three or four times."

"I see," Wes pales. "You shouldn't tell Mom that when she arrives."

Soul pales as well. "Mom is coming?"

Maka smacks him. "Haven't you heard what your brother has been saying? They're both coming."

"Mom and Dad?" His voice sounds high and panicky; for her weapon's sake, Maka tries not to laugh.

"Yep," says Wes, then frowns. "Hey, isn't that the new Death God over there?"

"Kid!" Maka shouts. "Wes, can you do us a big favor and go and inform him of that thing we talked about before? We still need to draw the phoenix over here so we can contain the damage."

"Sure," he says, though he looks slightly nervous. "Meeting a Death God. Fighting an evil firebird. How lovely."

And he takes off. Maka snorts. "Well, at least I know who you got your snark from."

"Shut up," Soul mutters, leading her towards the nearest building. They walk in through the smashed door, and walk up the stairs to the highest level - Kim had made sure that the area had been successfully evacuated.

They take a few moments to steel themselves for this next battle, never letting go of each other's hands.

"We should do our best not to fly unless it's absolutely necessary," Maka instructs quickly. "If it used that screech again and disrupted our abilities, we'd be done for."

"If it uses the damn thing we'll be done for either way," Soul says, but nods.

"Okay," she breathes. "We can do this."

"Let's go."

"HEY, YOU UGLY THING!"

"LOOKING FOR US?"

It's not the best plan, and both of them are all too aware of it. Cold sweat and fearful knots in their throats have been commonplace for a while now, though, so they do their best to ignore them even as the large creature descends towards them with an angry cry.

"Let's just hope that Kid understands it on time," Maka whispers, and they're off.

They haven't fought together for too long; it's comforting to have his weapon form safely wielded by her skilled hands as they move together as one. They twirl and shift and avoid the fireballs sent their way, deadlier each time they miss their target.

Their opponent is angry and far more powerful than they can ever hope to be, and they're aware of that; they won't survive this one if this battle doesn't end soon. It slices at them with sharp, fiery wings; the creature is hot, flaming, and it distorts the air behind it with the force of the sheer heat it emanes. From the distance, Kilik wields Azusa and lands a few strikes when he cans, though it's hard to do aim while they're moving around as much as they are, trying to remain alive.

Then, a pumpkin floats up.

It's not very large, nowhere near enough to do real damage, but as they all stare bewildered at it, it explodes, coating the creature's eyes with slick pumpkin guts. It screeches distressedly, but another pumpkin is floating up to the top of the building, and this one is much larger.

Large anough, in fact, to hold three people - or rather, one cat, one meister, and one Death Scythe.

"Yoo-hoo! Bu-tan is back~"

There's no time for crying, no time for greetings. Soul sends comforting waves to Maka via their resonance, but not even that is enough to calm her down.

Soul-

I know.

Soul, it's Mama!

The woman wielding Spirit Albarn's scythe form is not very similar to Maka. The green eyes are there, the same shape as her daughter's, and her lithe form is the same, but taller - but her hair is of a soft brown colour, rather than ash-blond, and instead of a ready smile, the adult seems to have a permanent calculating frown on her features. She's a meister through and through, though, and a force to be reckoned with, dealing blows upon blows on the phoenix while they had barely managed to even defend themselves. Soul can finally understand why Maka holds such admiration for the absent woman, but can't help but feel that it's still far too much; Blair seems to share his opinion as she nods at him and gives him a look that says that they'll talk about this later.

They join in on the ongoing battle once more, flipping out of the way when Spirit's scythe nearly hits them.

"Hey!" Soul complains, glaring at its wielder. "Watch it!"

Kami Albarn doesn't even spare him a look. "You kids should get away, this isn't your battle."

"Only it is."

"Soul!"

As if it had heard them, flaming, titanesque wings unfurl subitally, nearly knocking them all out over the edge of the roof.

"It's going to try to get away!" Soul warns, and Maka's grip on him tightens.

"We're not going to let it escape. Not until Kid gets back."

"As you say, angel." His blade shortens, wings growing out and flaring with light. "Let's go."

They take off as worried shouts come from the adults on the roof, the rushing of air against their ears making it easier to ignore them. It's just them, the sky, and the phoenix; this time, they aren't lost and afraid and trapped, and help is coming. They just have to hold it off long enough.

The gravity pulls at them as they shift back into yet another familiar routine: fly high enough, transform into scythe, attack, deffend, shift back onto flying form. It's dizzying, both for him and for her, and far more dangerous than it has ever been before - if they take too long, there's nothing to stop the creature from disrupting their abilities and resonance yet again, not to mention that they're in its domain. The phoenix is still a bird, after all, and the sky is their element; too many attacks hit their target, and his shaft is quickly becoming coated in his meister's blood. They're doing their job, and doing it well.

They try the Kishin Hunter, the Witch Hunter, all kinds of special attacks they managed to develop over the years, but none of them hits; eventually, they have to stop trying out of fear of damaging the city below.

We're running out of options!

Then, there's an opening.

Maka, no!

She flies at the creature underneath them, scythe in one hand as she holds onto the flaming feathers with the other. It burns her, burns them, but she grits her teeth and hold on even though her gloves are quickly turning to dust and blisters are rapidly forming on her thighs. He makes sure that his blade is sharp and buzzing with power when she shoves it into the monster's neck, and then they are crashing down onto the ground.

"It's still not dead."

They are both nearly unconscious, exhausted from the fight and from their injuries, but it doesn't stop their insides from freezing with dread when they see the wounds on the creature's neck starting to heal.

"FOOLS!" comes a voice from the distance, and then the Mighty Sword Excalibur is being stabbed deep into the firebird's heart by its wielder-

Who just so happens to be Wes Evans.

"What the fuck," is all Soul manages to say before he passes out, his meister safely within his arms.