Disclaimer: I do not own HunterxHunter, nor do I profit commercially from these writings.

Part 4

JUSTICE

It's strange, he thought as he ran down the dark staircase.

Further and further down into the deep, deep Earth. The more he descended down the staircase, the more he felt like he was descending into the bowel of Hell. The aura of insidious corruption grew stronger as he plunged deeper into the thick darkness. A glance to Kurapika showed that she felt it as well, the almost invisible frown marring her face. A glance to Noah showed him the same reaction, as the child was more receptive and sensitive than others. Noah had a very troubled look, and he had unsheathed his blade to force some sense of security into his heart and mind. Sarai was as blissfully unaware as one could be; she was more preoccupied by the thought of saving her "most favourite uncle in the whole world."

Down, down, down they went, their light footsteps making faint echoes in the deserted staircase. Deeper and deeper they dived into the cradle of darkness.

He couldn't help the grimace of irony, because they were right in the heart of Hiera Sedes. Right above him was the home of the Holy Saint; the supreme ruler of the Order.

But perhaps it was just fitting. After all, it was in the natural order of the universe that everything should have an opposite. Water and fire, earth and sky, female and male, yin and yang, darkness and light, heaven and hell. Nothing was pure in this mundane world, anyway. Just like Kurapika; who for all her sense of justice and righteousness, was no saint. And just like him; who was a thief and a murderer, was no devil either.

So down and down they went. Deeper and deeper into the darkness.

Clad entirely in pristine white and gold, an old man sat by the great window of his private office. His gaze fell to the horizon in the distance, where the sun was setting and twilight was falling. The setting sun bathed the sky in bright orange and red, but today's twilight felt eerily ominous; almost like a prelude to a great bloodshed.

"They are here." He whispered to the other occupant of the room.

Sitting on one of the chairs in the room was a person of indeterminate gender. The person was too beautiful to be a man and yet too masculine to be a woman. The body was too slender to be that of a man, and yet not curvaceous enough to be a woman. What gave away the nature of the person's existence the most was the gentle glow surrounding the body; bright yet soothing to the eyes, and the pair of pure white wings gracefully spreading from the person's back.

Indeed. The angel said with light voice, the voice sounding like a gentle choir.

"How did they manage to elude my Holy Knights?"

They are a group of very competent fighters. They have someone within their rank who can render their presence invisible. The angel said with eyes closed, the third eye tracing the Nen cloaking the invading 'army' to the source.

The angel could see it. Her. A young girl; alone in a tiny island and encased inside a giant sentient machinery. A young girl, miserable, regretful, and dying, the poison eating her away from inside out. The angel vaguely wondered why the girl's parents are not attending to her and making her rest instead of letting her abuse her own body. Are they even aware that she is dying? Likely not.

What will you do, my dear Saint? The angel asked.

The old man; the Holy Saint of the Order, did not answer straight away. Instead, he gripped the wooden frame of the windowsill until his gnarled knuckles turned white.

"Is it wrong of me to find no fault in the man's desire to save his undead friend?" The Holy Saint asked with uncertain voice. "I do not condone his thirst for revenge and bloodlust, but…Is it wrong of me to feel relief when I realize that these people can obliterate the entire Crusader sect? To erase their existence so their purpose can be erased as well?"

As the Holy Saint divulged his most secret longing, the angel glided to stand by the old man's side. The angel was an imposing figure, towering over the Holy Saint's figure like a parent towering over an adolescent child.

You never do approve of the Crusaders. The angel said, neither reproachful nor approving.

The Holy Saint shook his head with a grim expression on his weathered face.

"No. My predecessors created them. I don't… I feel distaste toward their purpose and methods… It is not right for men of God to take up arms in offensive." He said, frustrated and weary.

He could feel them; the undead's friend and his small army descending closer and closer to the subterranean chamber. He cringed at the thought of that particular feature of Hiera Sedes. The torture chamber, the skeleton in their closet… A place of worship, prayer, and sanctuary should never have such hideous place for such abominable purpose installed anywhere near.

And yet… The chamber had been there for centuries.

"What should I do?" He asked, voice soft yet tone pleading.

The angel observed the stooped figure of the Holy Saint with unassuming and unjudging eyes. At length, the angel said with gentle voice:

We are not here to commandeer you. You have been gifted with free will and wisdom. Use them well.But do remember, my dear Saint. In deciding to not take an action, that is an action in itself.

The angel then bent down to kiss him tenderly on the brow. The gesture suddenly brought back profound memories long forgotten since the days of his childhood; of the times when the angel would visit him and kiss him on the brow oh so tenderly when he was feeling sad, confused, or scared. To comfort him when he; as an orphan, had nobody to comfort him. It reminded him of the angel's distant reassurances in his past; that whatever happened, the angel would always be there with him. He would never be alone. Whatever he did, the angel would always be there for him. That he would not be forsaken, no matter the mistakes he made.

Because he was just human, imperfect yet adored in his endeavor to be perfect.

We are here for you, my dear Saint. With you. Always.The angel whispered to him, before a gentle glow suffused the angel entirely, leaving nothing but the glowing silhouette of the angel.

Do not be afraid, the angel's voice echoed softly in the Holy Saint's chamber, fading into gentle whispers that gave him strength.

"Holy Saint?" A muffled voice called from behind the thick door of his chamber, followed by the polite knocking on said door. The sharp sound of the knock; like metal hitting wood, identified the caller as a Holy Knight. Perhaps they had sensed something unusual entering the 'sacred' domain of Hiera Sedes, and thus sought his counsel.

The Holy Saint stood with his back to the door and facing the open window that overlooked the town of Hiera Sedes. He stood straight and firm; his withered appearance regaining lost vitality and confidence of his youth and faith. His pure white garb billowed wildly as a gust of wind blew into the chamber, as if celebrating the Holy Saint's resolution.

He never heard the knocking of the door, nor the voices calling from the door.

His consciousness came and went. However, when he was conscious, he could feel them coming closer and closer. Toward him. Were he not in pain, he would have smiled. Alas, his body was numb from the pain and no smile graced his lips. So he hung there, expression frozen in a visage of empty resignation; his facial muscles could no longer afford to reflect the hope, joy, and gratefulness he was feeling.

So instead, he did the one thing he could do in his condition.

The moment Lucifer barged—with a dramatic flair, he must add—into the torture chamber with his army behind him, he greeted him.

"...Lucifer."

So Lucifer would know that he was still alive. That he was waiting for him.

That he was saying thank you.

It was a massacre.

"Lucifer?! He said Lucifer! The devil! The Devil has come with his army in human form!"

It commenced the very moment Kuroro Lucifer laid his eyes on his long-time friend and sworn brother.

"Take him down! Purify him! Your faith is your shield!"

He was hung up crucifix style, staked through the wrists and feet. Drenched in Holy Water that was acid and poison to him.

"The Holy Water doesn't work on him! The Crucifix too!"

His skin was suffering from what looked like a deep third-degree burn, almost leathery and deathly white, disfigured, scalding and smoking as if he had been doused in high-concentration acid.

"Aaaaaaah! Run! Ruuuunn!"

The sickeningly acrid, sweet stench of burning flesh permeated the chamber.

"Please don't kill me! I have a family! Please!"

Blood was pooling underneath where Lucian was hung up, testament of how much he had been mutilated before they resorted to Holy Water.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

There were scars all over his burned body, crucifix shapes overlapping on top of the gashes made by blades.

CRACK

His hair covered most of his face but they could still see the disfigurement and laceration on it.

RIIIIP

But worst of all...

SPLATTER

...He looked too motionless to be alive.

CRUNCH

"Those sonnuva bitch..." Nobunaga hissed, his hand gripping the hilt of his katana so tight until his knuckles turned white. Lucian might not be a Spider, but Nobunaga and some others still considered him as their brethren in some ways and they would be thrice-hell-damned if they didn't avenge their brother.

In some of the Ryodan's eyes, this was the Mammon Massacre all over again. The only difference was that their Danchou was not using that scary-ass demonic ring. He had vowed never to use the Ring unless it was short of an apocalypse. Nope. He was massacring the clergymen and the Crusaders using his bare hands.

"This is history repeating itself." Shalnark cringed when he saw Lucian. He remembered Kurapika in the same position and damage as Lucian, so many years ago.

To be honest, some of the Spiders found it very disturbing. In terms of physical strength, their Danchou wasn't the strongest. However, the feat that he was doing was something that only someone with Uvogin's raw strength could do. The Spiders didn't even have to do anything to clean up the chamber. In fact, all they needed to do was to block the only escape of the chamber so nobody could escape the massacre.

"Lucian!" The children cried out in chorus as they ran towards the fallen vampire.

For once, Kurapika wasn't giving Kuroro the evil eyes for his blatant act of massacre and in front of the children to boot. In fact, she hardly paid attention to it. She even let the children clear the path—rather enthusiastically—as she marched her way to the dying vampire.

Heen quickly detached himself from the Spiders and dutifully followed Kurapika in her mission to reach Lucian. He owed the vampire his life. The vampire had helped reconstructing his body, replacing his metal body parts with organic equivalents so that he could have a semblance of humanity with his body. He owed Lucian his humanity, and he would be damned if he didn't pay back his debt.

"No! Don't take out the stakes!" Kurapika hissed at the children when they innocently attempted to take the stakes out of Lucian. She didn't want to risk more bleeding from Lucian if she could help it.

"But how do we take him down?" Heen asked as he inspected the slab of solid wood that was Lucian's 'crucifix'.

"Stay back."

Everyone turned around and, to their surprised, saw Nobunaga standing a few steps behind them. The samurai was poised in a stance; knees bent and a hand hovering just above the hilt of his katana. His eyes were glued intensely to Lucian's mangled figure, and his Nen was cloaked strongly around him. Heen, apparently, recognised this stance.

"Kurapika, make way. Kids, you too." He told them quickly as he himself took several steps back.

Kurapika didn't know what Nobunaga was planning to do, but if he knew what he was doing then Kurapika would trust him. This was no time for petty squabble that the two of them usually engaged in.

"Get him when I'm done." Nobunaga said gruffly as his posture intensified.

Heen solemnly nodded and shifted his stance as if he was preparing to run for his life. Nobunaga took a deep breath and exhaled soundly, and all of his Nen surged into his katana and condensed. He took another breath, held it…

And he lashed out.

Kurapika didn't know what exactly happened, but her trained eyes could discern blades of Nen flying out in a trajectory from Nobunaga's katana as he slashed into thin air toward the general direction of Lucian. She didn't know how he managed to do it, but to her amazement those projected Nen blades managed to cut through the solid wood without touching Lucian at all. It was as if the Nen blades just passed through him. In any case, he managed to 'dislodge' Lucian from his 'chain'.

Heen was the first to make a move. He rushed to somehow gently grabbed Lucian's mangled arm, and Kurapika quickly copied him. She supported the other arm with as much tenderness as she could afford.

"Get his feet. Gently." She commanded the children.

All children moved with military efficiencies that would have made any drill sergeants proud. Lucian sagged painfully against Kurapika and Heen, and they lowered him down to the ground as gently as possible.

"Nobu." Heen called out as Nobunaga withdrew to join his fellow Spiders.

"Hm?" The samurai responded gruffly as he looked over his shoulder.

"Thanks." Heen said earnestly.

Nobunaga merely shrugged and continued walking.

"Just make sure the idiot stay alive."

Heen nodded to his direction even when Nobunaga wasn't looking. He then turned around to join the others in tending to Lucian. It was a sad affair.

Kurapika had tried using her Healing Chain on the gaping wounds on his torso and the cuts all over his body, but to her dismay it couldn't completely heal him. The wounds were sterilized and stitched back together by her Nen, but it didn't manage to completely heal the scars. Kurapika surreptitiously glanced at the scars on her palms. She had purposefully left the scars there, but what about Lucian's case? Why couldn't she heal them?

Was it the Holy Water?

She was also painfully aware that her Healing Chain didn't replenish the copious amount of blood that he had lost. When she swiped away the hair covering his face, however, Kurapika felt bile in her mouth. She heard Meta gasping in horror and Heen cursing in his native language. Sarai had promptly burst into tears and was weeping into her twin brother's shoulders, unable to take in the grotesque sight. Noah hadn't made a peep, but his eyes were ablaze and his face twisted into a mix of grimace and scowl as he bit down his lips until they bled.

Half of Lucian's face was close to being disfigured and she dreaded to know what happened to the eyeball beneath that half-fused eyelids. Only one eye seemed to have remained generally unscathed.

"Oh, Lucian you poor thing..." She whispered to him as she caressed his intact cheek, afraid of aggravating the scalded skin of the other cheek.

"Mama, is Lucian…?" Sarai asked in her sobs, unable to finish her sentence.

"He is alive." She answered, voice harsher than she intended. She could feel the very faint pulse under his thickened charred skin, but she didn't know how long he would last.

"What do we do now?" Meta asked in horror, voice uncharacteristically small and afraid. It had been a long time since the last time he was this scared and lost. He had always been confident on the invincibility of his family, so seeing the state Lucian was in had been a wake-up call to reality for him.

"I don't know...Uhh... Aah..." Kurapika muttered despairingly. What did Kuroro tell her about Lucian?

"For vampires like Lucian, blood is the life. Whenever they are damaged too much, they simply need blood to get their reparative system going."

"Blood. I need blood." Kurapika looked around. There was a body of one clergyman near Heen.

"It has to be fresh blood, though. Dead blood amounts to nothing for him."

No good. Fresh blood, she had to find fresh blood. She looked down her hands.

"And he can't drink our blood either, nor the blood or any other supernatural being. His blood diet is limited to animals and humans, and his Sire. Our blood is mixed with Ishtar's, and therefore poisonous for him."

She looked at the clergymen and Holy Saints who were still fighting and running from Kuroro. Should she sacrifice them? Some of them were mangled enough that they wouldn't survive the night, if they survived Kuroro's genocide-mode at all. Perhaps….Perhaps she could offer their blood to Lucian? It could be a mercy-killing in a way, right?

So caught up she was in her dilemma, she didn't notice the danger she was sitting so close to.

"GET AWAY FROM HIM!"

Before she knew it, Kurapika found herself bodily snatched away from her post next to Lucian. Vaguely she heard the children screaming in terror and scrambling away from Lucian. To her horror, she saw a clawed burned hand swiping at the air where her chest had been a second ago. Kurapika blindly gripped at the bloody arms that were keeping her steady.

"What—?!"

"Heen, paralyse!"

There was a chilling shriek as Heen zapped Lucian with his Nen similar as how people were stun-gunned. Lucian body twitched violently, his back arching and his fanged mouth shrieking like an angry Banshee. This blood-curdling shriek completely obscured the screams of death that rang in the background as the Spiders finished the massacre for their distracted Danchou.

"...why?" Kurapika whispered in breathless voice.

Kurapika almost couldn't believe her eyes. She had never seen Lucian like this before. He looked feral; his iris red and his sclera bloodshot, and his fangs elongated beyond normal. His mouth was drawn back into a nasty bloodthirsty snarl, his scarred face scrunched up into the likeness of a demon. The children instinctively backed away from him, maintaining a safe distance from the feral vampire. At that moment, Lucian looked exactly like the bloodsucking creature of legends. He had never looked like this before. The Lucian they knew was always the lovable vampire who always got into troubles and always meddling with their family affairs.

"No..." Kurapika whimpered tearfully. This was too painful to watch. She couldn't help the tears that were streaming down her cheeks incessantly.

"At least he's still alive..." Kuroro growled, and yet there was relief in his voice.

"Kuroro, why—?"

"The immense lack of blood sent his survival instinct into overdrive. Right now he isn't lucid. This is his instinct personified. It was trying to attack you to suck you dry."

"The Holy Knights are coming!" Bia announced suddenly through their communication device Nen-linked to Bia's Aranha. Indeed, their devices received a feedback of many armed men running towards the dungeon they were in. "You have to go now!"

They all moved with military precision, as if this was a drill that they had been practicing just for this kind of occasion. Kuroro leapt to stand by Lucian's side even as the deranged vampire was twitching and growling like a mad beast. He seized one of Lucian's wrist, just as Heen also leapt to seize the other wrist. Kurapika immediately hooked her arms around Kuroro's waist, while Meta immediately scooped the twins into his arms; one kid in each arm.

"Shizuku, clean up. The rest of you, go!" Kuroro all but barked the order as he summoned his Nen book.

As the Spiders made their escape and Shizuku took out her Deme-chan, Kurapika pumped her Nen into Kuroro as he used his teleportation skill to spirit all of them away.

Even as Kuroro was insanely powerful, there were still limitations to his skills. His teleportation skill when executed on his own could only teleport at most two people in short distance at one time. For long distance teleportation with multiple targets, he could only do with with Kurapika's assistance. The first time he tried such feat, he almost died from sheer exhaustion and immense overtaxing of his Nen, which rendered him Nen-less for a month.

The moment Kuroro and his party teleported away, Meta immediately bolted out of the dungeon with the Spiders taking the front and the rear. As the ran up the darkened staircase, Meta's Nen suddenly flared up and a portion of it detached from his body and flew toward the dungeon. It didn't go unnoticed by the Spiders, but they didn't question it.

A while later, there was an unholy shrieking from the direction of the dungeon.

True to their professionalism, the Spiders never stopped even as the shrieking caught all of them off guard. It didn't stop Nobunaga to make a fuss about it, though.

"What was that infernal noise?!"

"That was just me. Shizuku's fine." Meta said succinctly with satisfaction in his tone.

"Brat, what did you do?!" Nobunaga yelled.

"Personal revenge." Meta growled with sadistic smile stretching across his face.

His father had hogged all the pleasure of retribution by massacring everyone in the dungeon almost single-handedly. Meta wasn't satisfied, and so he had summoned the one daemon that he had never summoned before because he didn't have cause to summon said daemon; Erinyes, the Daemon of Revenge. With every shred of vindictiveness, the firstborn of Kurapika Kuruta and Kuroro Lucifer had cursed the place so that members of the Order who stepped into the dungeon would experience Lucian's pain; make them suffer as much as he did.

Years and centuries later the chamber came to be known as the Chamber of Agony, and nothing could destroy the place.

Author's Note: Meta evidently inherited Kurapika's tendency of vindictiveness. I am truly sorry for disfiguring Lucian so *hides away from Lucian's enraged fans* Here you go, my dear readers! A longer chapter because I've been absent from quite some time. Too dark? Too much pain for Lucian? Would he regain his awesome handsomeness or would he remain disfigured? *mobbed by angry readers*

Please don't read too much into this. I know I've said that the Holy Saint is the equivalent of the Pope in this story, but I am not trying to slander the Pope by using this story. This is just fiction.