Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater.

THE BEGINNING OF THE END

…SEVERAL WEEKS AGO…

It seemed so surreal, looking down upon Death City and the blanket of peace that coated the rooftops like freshly fallen snow.

4 years and I'm still not used to it…

"I'll never get tired of this view. What about you, Kiddo?"

Sighing deeply, his hands clasped together on the stormy grey balcony wall, Death the Kid allowed a smirk to curl across his lips.

"I'm still having a hard time believing its real, Maka."

"I know…time's just flown by. I wonder if it's the same for everyone else…"

Kid shook his head empathically. "I miss them, too."

"It was the right thing to do, wasn't it? I mean, I don't regret staying at Shibusen."

"Don't worry. You'll make a great teacher, Maka."

"Yeah…Marie's given me a lot of help, and Rex has been a great friend."

"…But," Kid keyed.

"But – But I miss the old days!" Maka caved, her face flushing with colour. "I don't have any regrets, but, I still miss the way things used to be, even though they were bad times. Is that wrong?"

Kid gazed at the dozing sun. "Don't worry, we'll see them again. Black Star can't train forever."

"I didn't think he was serious, but he went back to Japan…and Tsubaki went with him."

"I know. The peace feels strange, even now."

Maka nodded understandingly. "But, Soul…"

Kid stood, now a head taller than Maka, moving his hands to entomb them in his pants pockets. "I get why you're glum, Maka, but you achieved your dream. Soul's a Death Scythe. You should be proud. I'm sure your mother would be."

Smiling inwardly, Maka's eyes danced out of sight as they glistened. "Still, I wish he didn't have to go to Oceania so suddenly…Marie's a great teacher, don't get me wrong, but…"

"Soul can take care of himself, Maka. Don't worry. Don't make Rex worry."

Maka let out a laugh. "Rex's great, a talented weapon. But, he's not Soul, you know…"

As Kid passed the second semester star student of Shibusen, he rested a hand on her shoulder. Maka acknowledged his sincerity, covering his hand with her own. Briefly, Maka sniffed back her tears. Empowered, she released her grip and Kid copied, admiring the darkening sky.

"It's getting late," Maka noted. "We'll miss dinner at this rate. Rex is a great cook when he puts his mind to it. Are you, Liz and Patty still joining us?" Silence. "Uh…? Kid, is everything alright?"

"Something's not right." His eyes narrowed on the horizon. "Something's not right at all."

Following the young Shinigami's gaze, Maka raised her hand against the growing ball of distant light. "What an earth is –"

Their shouts echoed as the ground shook, shuddering in fear. Sprawled on the balcony titled floor, Kid scooped Maka to her feet, her face as pale as his.

Clutching his shoulders, Maka turned to face the horizon. "What…What was that?"

"I don't know," Kid denied. "But I'm sure we'll find out soon enough."

Out of sight and out of mind, another pair of eyes studied the horizon with an unparallel hunger. Darkness closed in overhead, casting shadows across the impersonal stone walls. Torches of the deepest red were lit by disembodied voices that chanted with menacing passion.

"Lord Havok," bowed a man, his face shrouded in shadow. "We're ready."

"Thank you, Raphael. We'll be along shortly."

Raphael dismissed himself, turning down one of the eerie illuminated endless corridors.

Inhaling, Havok exhaled his fear and rose from his throne. He trekked down the corridors himself, turning left and right without concern. Arriving at a lone, ceiling-high, dirty silver door, Havok rammed his knuckles against the cold metal. TANK, TANK, TANK.

Havok was too accustomed to the door opened unaided for it to faze him. He took five generous steps before falling on bended knee. "My Queen, Lord Raphael has assured me everything has been taken care of."

Strolling in from the balcony, high above, the incessant chatter of the Queen's blind children commanded her attention. She raised a limb as pale and as delicate at the Japanese spring blossoms. With a click of her fingers, silence rang like a church bell at a funeral. Her fingers shifted, inclining her servant to raise his head. Havok obeyed, meeting her large, insipid black eyes. They hid beneath curtains of hair stained blood red, streaked with the blackness of her soul.

She clicked her tongue. Havok stood at once, bowing his head as she passed, her velvet evergreen emerald dress trailing behind her. Mentally, Havok counted before he followed, fully aware of the doors creaking shut behind him.

The dungeon doors opened inwards sending a breath of air as stale as death wafting through the air. Collectively, the candles shuddered, but the torches beamed like miniature stars. Cowering in the centre of the expansive circular room was a tattered woman, her clothes torn, her hair an unruly mess, and her skin scarred with her own blood. She shivered and shook, her eyes widening with terror at every step her captors took. Closer and closer. She whimpered.

"Pl-Please…please. Please! I won't tell anyone, I swear!"

"A broken spirit…but a strong soul," the Queen hissed.

Havok and his Lords arched their heads forward, stepping sideways in sync.

"N-No. No. No! No, wait, please!" she begged, scrambling to her feet as the dungeon doors shut. She was yanked to the ground, her chains constricting round her flesh like the muscles of a ravenous boa constrictor coiling around their prey. "What do you want?!" she shrieked.

The Queen smiled, showing her duel pair of protruding fangs, as she knelt before the woman, tilting her chin towards the light as if she were inspecting live stock. "Your soul!"

"Your soul," the servants echoed like thunder. "Our soul. Our power. Your possession. Your sacrifice. Our salvation." Their words summoned the angelic lines of a glaring pentagram. Before the woman, the Queen cast her hands forth, her fingers stretching - snapping her bones - to encompass the woman's face. "Take this gift of mortal coil and consume your fill. Rise from your prison, awaken from your hell. We, the Lords of Chaos, give you the gift of freedom. We, the Lords of Chaos, grant you the power to kill!"

Endlessly, the woman screamed and shrieked, but nothing could dissuade their chant. Her life coured through her blood and up through the fingers of the sadistic Queen before her. The light from the floating pentagram blinded their eyes. Even the torches closed their eyes. The ground shook and the corridors ecoed with the crashing and shattering of glass. The Lords of Chaos fell on bended knee. Darkness had fallen, and out of the flames and ashes rose the Devil.