Chapter Eight
Nova Babylon, Lucifaad Territory
Cyrus was in a state of pure delirium.
His consciousness faded in and out, manifesting into a numbing sensation. In other moments he felt his body floating through an imperceivable darkness.
His mind drifted, and his senses played tricks on him.
One second, he was back on the streets of Ferax; in another, he was knee-deep in Covenant bodies trying to climb out of the suffocating space.
A haunting voice in the darkness beckoned him forward.
I HAVE WALKED AMONG MEN AND ANGELS
The message repeated over and over in a timeless loop. Something called to Cyrus, seeking to drive him into the same madness it exuberated.
A rough hand dragged him from his toiling slumber, and a pair of amber orbs glanced down in concern.
"Time to wake up, brother." Ghislaine comfortably whispered into his ear, allowing the tension in his arms to whither a fade as Karal watched their Fallen guest closely.
It took Cyrus a few moments to remember that their environment was no longer the cushy Government quarters but instead the district where the forgotten lived.
It's also where Viktor hid his insurgents.
The slums district was one of the most dangerous assignments for a Legionnaire during the 56th Legion's occupation of Nova Babylon. The Centurias assigned to this sector were often forced to deploy en masse to avoid unnecessary casualties.
The negligence of Nova Babylon's Nobles only escalated the anarchy within the slums. In the past, Legionnaires were sent in to pacify any foolish devil that dared to stake their claim as sole ruler of the district.
Patrols would tick up in frequency, and martial law would be enforced until the Nobles deemed their soldier's efforts to curtail the insurrection adequate enough to order a withdrawal. That directive often only came after the body count was sufficient enough to remind everyone in the district of their place in the city's social hierarchy.
Beneath the boots of their lords.
The slums were ripe pickings for rebellion, and Cyrus knew that the Skin Walkers were using this district as a staging ground. His main problem was obtaining reliable information that constituted a significant deployment.
To send the 10th Cohort blindly into that viper's nest would do nothing but get most of his men killed in the process. The slums were the largest and most densely populated district in Nova Babylon, and 3,000 Legionnaires alone weren't going to cut it when push came to shove.
Venelana would not dare to march on the slums without sacrificing the majority of her garrison, and Viktor Nebiros had enough spies within their ranks to assure that every conventional sortie into the district would fail.
But he couldn't predict a new Cohort arriving in the city practically unannounced and a Cadre sent by Azazel himself to curtail his efforts.
Penemune managed to locate one of their main encampments deep within the slums, but Cyrus wanted a visual confirmation of Viktor Nebiros and his Fallen collaborator before committing his men.
Karal and Ghislaine severely disagreed with his decision to trust the Fallen Angel to this extent, but Cyrus would have none of it. He didn't tolerate inaction on his part, and as his Cohort had come to understand, there was no chance that Cyrus would send his men into the abyss without scouting it out first.
He appeased the duo by allowing them to join their reconnaissance mission as long as they remained silent.
A decision Cyrus was slowly starting to regret on account of Ghislaine's constant griping. Karal's role as Night Warden made this task a breeze since he could quickly shift into his shadow and still maintain his duty as his protector.
Ghislaine was much more difficult to handle.
"I don't like this." Cyrus shot his sister an annoyed glance.
The trio were wedged within the confines of a claustrophobic alleyway within the slums district, desperately trying to avoid as many eyes as possible.
Viktor almost certainly had lookouts stationed amongst the civilian population, and even a fleeting sight of Legionnaires could set off an alarm and drive the Nebiros back into hiding.
That could not happen, and Ghislaine's vocal distrust of Penemune constantly hampered their attempts at subtly. It certainly didn't help that his sister spent most of her time glaring at the back of the crow's head and not watching her surroundings.
"You don't have to like it," Cyrus scolded under his breath, drawing an amused glance from the Fallen. "But you're going to deal with it."
Penemune's nature as a Cadre was a closely guarded secret, considering the Fallen's reputation as a Devil-Killer. Her deeds during the Great War solidified her infamy among the Legions, earning her the nickname "Butcher of Uvall."
Ghislaine's brimmed with silent fury and a flash of pain at his cutting words. "I thought you, of all people, would understand my…our position."
The Devil's hatred for their Fallen counterparts could be understood considering his own prejudices concerning the Covenant, but the enemy of my enemy was my friend in this circumstance, even if that saying cut both ways.
However, Cyrus didn't care if his men inevitably disagreed with his decision to work with the crow.
As far as his Centurions were concerned, Penemune was a low-level mercenary on Venelana's payroll, and she was afforded certain luxuries.
Fallen Mercenaries were a common theme in the Underworld during the Civil War, but the Loyalists didn't employ these mercs because the entire reason for this internal conflict was to reengage the Great War.
Employing Fallen Mercs went against their ideals and quite possibly would make them out to be hypocrites. This was why Hadriel willingly working with Viktor Nebiros, even in secret, was cause for alarm, and that suspicion was only escalated by Satanael operating inside the city.
It didn't make sense on a political scale, but right now, all that mattered was tearing down Viktor Nebiros's insurgent network, and if that meant killing a Fallen Angel in the process, then Cyrus was all for it.
"I do understand." The Spartan stressed. "But we don't have the luxury of arguing against this judgment. It was made long before we arrived here, and Cedric has already signed off on this operation."
"Just keep her away from me," Ghislaine's words struck a chord within Cyrus. He didn't have time for her attitude and severe lack of discipline right about now, so he opted to remove her from the equation before she became a bigger problem.
Cyrus grew tired of appeasing everyone around him.
"Head back to the camp and get the Cohort ready for deployment." The Nekoshu went to argue, but the admonishing glare kept her silent. "Once we receive confirmation that Viktor is inside the slums, I will need every Legionnaire to lock down the district."
Ghislaine hesitated, trading uneven glances between him and Penemune before growling in frustration and disappearing down the alleyway. He kept silent, but the Crow bristled with amusement at their argument.
The pair traveled wordlessly, dodging civilians and armed insurrectionists alike before scaling a two-story building overlooking the sprawling district.
Cyrus was just getting used to the quiet before Penemune decided to open her mouth. "Your sister doesn't seem to like me."
"I can't imagine why." He glanced at the Fallen from the corner of his eye with discontent. "You butchered her Cohort in a field outside Uvall. She has every reason to hate you."
"But you don't share her sentiments."
"I was barely a twinkle in my father's eye back then. A hundred years is a long time to hold a grudge." Cyrus didn't miss the hypocrisy in his words considering his own eternal hatred of the Covenant.
"A hundred years isn't long enough for a devil to forget." Penemune admonished with a coy smile. "Maybe a human considering their short life spans, but you wouldn't know anything about that, little Devil?"
This conversation started to delve into areas Cyrus didn't want to visit. Her words constantly alluded to the stark difference between himself and his kin.
"Enough talk, Crow." He needed to head off this line of thinking before Penemune started hitting the nail in the coffin. "The sooner we snatch Viktor and Hadriel, the sooner you'll be back in Erebus, and I can return to the front."
Cyrus was in the midst of turning away when a hand gently seized his shoulder. Karal nearly jumped from his shadow in retaliation, but a burst of arcana from his charge kept him in place.
Penemune's slender arm slithered across his shoulders to respond to his placating actions until her side was pressed firmly against his. Cyrus sneered at their close proximity, but she again ignored his discomfort.
"Is all this cloak and dagger not your forte?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
"It just so happens that I do." Her eyes and demeanor shifted into pure compassion and understanding he was ill-prepared for. "Are you sure you're a Pureblood?"
Penemune wasn't probing for the sake of her amusement.
She challenged the assertion that one of his parents hadn't decided to partake in the forbidden fruit of bearing a Hybrid.
It wasn't the first time someone doubted his legitimacy as a true son of Kimaris.
"Completely." Cyrus rebuked her inquiry and extracted himself from her grasp. "Why do you keep asking me these questions?"
"You don't act like one." All manner of taunting was absent in Penemune's voice. "Your tolerance of me is astounding because most of your kind can't stand a Fallen. It's suffocating for you devils, and your natural instinct is to butcher me until nothing but sacks of meat remain. However, with you, it's different. Why is that?"
"Irrelevant." He put some distance between them, but the Fallen could find the slightest hitch in his step that only seemed to embolden her further.
"I say otherwise, Little Devil, and I'm certain you know what I'm talking about. You're just neglecting to share."
"What gave you that idea?" Cyrus reproached, earning a cheshire grin from Penemune. "Was it me constantly dodging the question with silence?"
"Something like that." He stepped into her guard, momentarily surprising the Fallen before her expression fell at ease.
"Then let me rephrase it for your tiny brain to understand." The Spartan spoke with disdain that surprised Karal as much as Penemune. "My personal life is immaterial to the mission, so let's focus on that instead of me."
"As you wish." She gave in to his demands but did so of her own accord and not because he demanded it. "Follow me. The insurgent camp isn't far from here.
Penemune turned on her heel, stepping off the edge of their rooftop and billowing her wings at the last moment to avoid colliding with an adjacent structure. Cyrus expanded his arcana, manipulating every speck of darkness in plain view, and shadowed the Fallen's flight path.
She led him into the easternmost parts of the slums, where the district's lawless nature became evident in the oddest ways. Cyrus was used to the racketing of civilians going about their daily lives, but you could hear a pin drop for miles in this isolated section of Nova Babylon.
Fear was a prevalent emotion that seeped into the very walls of each rundown building and cracked roadway. Insurrectionists patrolled every inch of space, their civilian attire marred by poorly maintained carapace armor and the horned helmets covering their faces.
Cyrus easily avoided each sweeping patrol, ducking in and out of the shadows before anyone caught a glimpse of his figure.
Penemune led him to a corner building a hundred meters from a makeshift checkpoint guarding the main encampment. Unlike its tranquil surroundings, the encampment occupants seemed to revel in the regular debauchery fit Devil nightlife.
The two glided through the building, clearing it of insurgents, before crouching behind a series of windows to observe the campsite from a safe distance.
Cyrus kept count of their manpower; by now, he'd already reached nearly two hundred militants. Not for the first time, he silently wondered how Penemune got this far without triggering some response.
Penemune's perceptive violet orbs noticed his silent musings.
"I was invited by a retinue of officers under Viktor's command for my…." The Fallen gestured to the black-feathered wings attached to her back. "…Exotic physique."
The scowl etched into Cyrus's expression brought a mesmerizing mirth to Penemune and further soured his mood.
In hindsight, he should have known that the only reason a Devil would ever tolerate a Fallen was their desire to satiate their lust. These creatures are far too easily subdued by their sentiments, and quite honestly, it annoyed Cyrus's militant mindset.
"And Sataneal didn't notice your presence." One would think they could make out their colleague suddenly attending their….festivities.
"Well, he was busy with a nice pair of tits in his hands," Penemune muttered under her breath, drawing an unimpressed glance from Cyrus.
While she waited for a shift change at the checkpoints, he pulsed his arcana and linked his mind with his sister. Ghislaine finally reached the Legion's encampment and prepared them for immediate rapid action deployment.
A staple tactic of the 66th Legion was to utilize a technique called Caiseag Sgàil, Shadow step in common tongue. This method creates temporary portals stable enough to transport men and equipment over a limited distance. It requires two Kimaris users to sync their arcana and conjure a connection between these gateways.
One of the many skills that made the Black Guards of Kimaris stand out amongst their sister Legions.
"Ghislaine." Cyrus felt a dark haze consume his vision, and within mere moments he found a pair of familiar crimson orbs staring back at him. "Are you in position?"
"The Cohort is ready and waiting." The Nekoshu replied. "Lady Gremory has tasked her Cohorts to storm the district once we've made contact. You have 12,000 Legionnaires ready to take this Loyalist Stronghold. You need only pave the way for us."
"Understood. Standby for deployment." Cyrus momentarily disconnected the connection and turned towards Penemune. "How many Loyalists were inside the camp during your…prolonged stay?"
"A little over a thousand." The Fallen supplied without hesitation. "Outside the perimeter are around six hundred guards meant to keep an eye out for people like us, but they did a shit job tonight."
"Their mistakes are to our benefit, and it's up to us to exploit them." Black tendrils of darkness expanded in all directions seeking out every Insurgent toiling within the confines of their encampment.
Penemune placed their total manpower at over a thousand, but as Cyrus latched onto the shadows of each Devil, he found the exact number closer to fifteen hundred.
He utilized their shadows like beacons in his mind, mapping out the estimated details and size of their encampment to deduce the most effective locations to deploy the 10th and establish a chokehold around the insurgent base.
Viktor and his officers were in a heated discussion at the heart of the encampment. The Nebiros Heir was leaning over a war table with beads of sweat trailing down his forehead and a startled look that put Cyrus on edge.
He manipulated the black tendrils into one, allowing him to hear the exact nature of Viktor's anxiety.
"I want the watch doubled." Viktor bit out with strains of fear in his voice. "If that fallen angel bitch shows up again, our position here will be compromised!"
An Insurgent officer stepped forward, drawing Viktor's attention. "What if she goes to the Kimaris boy? He wouldn't hesitate to attack our stronghold even if a Cadre gave him the information."
"She wouldn't dare." Another officer spoke up. "The six-winged whore would be accused of espionage, and her presence violates the temporary cease-fire agreement signed by Azazel and the Renegade Government."
Cyrus snorted at the Insurgent's misinformed opinion. They believed the crow to be a Fallen agent, not a Cadre that could flatten the district in a blink. He was set to return to his previous task when the same officer threw out an inquiry.
"What about Hadriel? What are we to do with him?" The Spartan's eyes subtly narrowed on Penemune.
"We should kill him." A red-haired insurgent announced with glee before her compatriots shot down her assertion.
"We were fortunate that the Fallen whore only slaughtered twenty of our men before she escaped into the slums yesterday." Now that was a bit of new information that intrigued Cyrus, but before anyone else could go into detail, Viktor dismissed his officers and retreated into his cabin.
According to Penemune, she didn't make contact with the Insurgents and managed to slip away before anyone was the wiser.
Clearly, that was a lie she perpetrated, but the reasons for her deception were…peculiar.
The Spartan found it increasingly odd that there was no mention of Sataneal and his coincidental departure overlapping with another Cadre infiltrating their stronghold.
To further confound his perceptions of Penemune, Hadriel was seemingly held captive instead of acting as a collaborator he and Lady Gremory were led to believe.
Cyrus quietly contemplated the odd circumstances as he placed the final pieces to his Caiseag Sgàil for the Legionnaires to utilize.
Why would Sataneal willingly work with the Loyalists?
There was no conceivable logic to the Fallen angel's actions.
Even though Sataneal holds a profound animosity for his Heavenly kin, he still sided with the wrong faction.
At the very least, Cedric and the other Praetors would uphold the deal on principle, while the Loyalists would stab him in the back at their first opportunity.
So the question remained why is Sataneal working with the Loyalists?
Hadriel was little more than a logistics wizard, but Sataneal was one of the Grigori's best field generals.
Cyrus found many reports detailing his actions during the Great War. His contemporaries and rivals held him in high regard, but his fanatical loyalty to Azazel set him apart from the rest of the Fallen.
However, this loyalty was supposedly rattled after Azazel withdrew his forces back to their homeland when victory was within their grasp. From then on, there was little activity from Sataneal besides participating in a few skirmishes along the border.
There was a piece to the puzzle that Cyrus was missing, and his mind raced to fill in the missing parts.
In his distant past, he hunted and interrogated Insurrectionist leaders and agents. Locating these deviants required understanding their impulses and motivations, leading them to take up the sword.
To know your enemy, you must understand why they fight.
Cyrus glanced towards Penemune as her words echoed to the front of his mind.
"Sataneal wants to instigate another Great War with Heaven, and he believes the Loyalist can help him."
Sataneal…..
The Loyalists….
Their goals align….
But they also contradict one another….
Wait….
"Penemune." The Fallen's attention was torn from the encampment, and an effortless smile graced her succulent lips.
"Oh, you're using my name now. We must be making progress in our relationship." He ignored her taunting remarks and subtly gestured a signal that only Karal would understand with his right hand.
"When did Sataneal leave?" Her brows furrowed with confusion.
"Yesterday after I departed the encampment." Cyrus shifted his left foot back, drawing a curious glance from the Fallen, but otherwise, she remained passive.
"And why is he working with Viktor?"
"Because Sataneal is a fool that wants to start another Great War." Penemune shrugged off with a smile. "Why is that so hard to understand, little Devil."
"It wasn't."
At the slightest twitch of Cyrus's finger, Karal slipped from his shadow and fell upon the Fallen Angel, taking her entirely by surprise.
The Night Warden dug the center of his Griycium spear underneath her chin and drove her into the far wall forcing Penemune back with a vicious snarl.
"What are you doing!"
A black tendril dug into her throat, and Cyrus glared at her with a piercing stare, silencing her outrage in one fell swoop.
"You lied to me about Hadriel." The Spartan whispered just loud enough for her ears to pick up. "Viktor had him locked up in a cell when you told me he was a collaborator. "
"I can assure you that-"
"Let me paint a picture for you, Crow. Hadriel is a two-winged fallen who's good for logistics and nothing else. He is weak enough to be considered an ant, but his talents are useful to Viktor. If a Cadre approached the Loyalists, they would use that meeting against you to throw the Devils into a frenzy."
Cyrus was damn near certain that Bashalum would use the attempt at political interference from the other factions to his benefit.
Devils are prideful creatures, and the mere thought that the Angels would interfere in their business was a crime they would not stand for.
The Renegade's entire philosophy is to achieve peace by any means, but it only works so long as Heaven and the Grigori stay out of the Civil War. That's why Venelana is willing to work with you in silence, and that's why Cedric signed off on it.
Azazel can disavow the actions of a soldier but not a former high-ranking member of the Grigori, and he would sooner kill Sataneal than let him within an inch of Devil territory.
The resignation in Penemune's eyes only seemed to press home the reality of their situation.
"You're not here to arrest Hadriel for treason. You're here to pull him out before he gets killed and his death brings another Great War. Sataneal was never here, just like you're not supposed to be."
He didn't doubt for a second that Lady Gremory and Cedric knew the true purpose of Penemune's presence. In fact, he would go so far as to believe that this entire operation was meant to quietly clean up a failed infiltration by Azazel's agents and that every accusation against Sataneal was window dressing to get him onboard.
Cyrus and his men were being strung along at the end of a string, and he hated every second of it.
And despite herself, Penemune couldn't help the chortle of amusement from exiting her lungs.
"You are different, little Devil." Penemune relaxed her posture, and Cyrus allowed Karal to loosen his spear away from her clenching throat. "So, where do we go from here?"
"Why the deception? What was the point in all of these charades."
"It's as you said. My people aren't supposed to be here, and it's easier to explain trying to apprehend a rogue collaborator than an agent intentionally placed to intervene in a Civil War." The Night Warden eased up, allowing the Fallen more gasps of air to fill her starving lungs.
"Hadriel supplied your father critical information on Viktor's network for months…." Cyrus had to commend Penemune; that was the first time she spoke without lying out of her teeth.
As a reward, Karal was dismissed, allowing the Cadre her personal space and time to recompose herself before continuing.
"…When you traveled into the Blighted Marshlands, Azazel approached Cedric and covertly offered his support. He accepted, but he would only allow a few of our agents into Devil Territory, and if he found out that others were operating without his approval, we would be in for another Great War…."
Cedric's ultimatum didn't surprise Cyrus, but he kept his thoughts to himself as Penemune continued.
"…Hadriel and I were sent to assist your counter-insurgency operations. He ingratiated himself into Viktor's camp, and I spent time in Lucifaad and Nova Babylon gathering vital intelligence on Bashalum's troop movements. Hadriel was caught two days ago, and I came here to get him out, but we are operating at the edge of a knife. If my involvement was discovered-."
"Then the entire war effort would be compromised by your involvement." The Cadre nodded at his summarization of her motives for the deceit. "Loose lips sink ships."
"Correct, little Devil." Cyrus turned his back on the Cadre and used his arcana to signal Ghislaine to prepare their men for deployment. Deception or not, he wasn't about to let Viktor slip from his grasp. "What now?"
Penemune took a tentative step forward when he refused to answer. Cyrus was starting to become more than an aberration in her millennia of dealing with Devils.
"We do what is required," Cyrus glanced at her from the corner of his crimson eyes. Demonic energy began to build up around the Insurgent encampment, startling its occupants as shadows started to lick at their perimeter.
The Kimaris heir emerged from his hiding place in full view of the two dozen militants on watch duty. They were so enthralled with his appearance that they overlooked the large pools of shadows forming in the darkness.
"Halt!" One of the rebels hollered. "Who goes there?"
A war horn bellowed in the night, and the clatter of Griycium Spears and Carpance armor echoed for all to hear. The insurgents on duty were helpless to save themselves, as Ghislaine, her Night Warden, and several Legionnaires from the 66th Legion slipped from the black puddles and butchered them to a man.
Ghislaine rushed to Cyrus' side as Arkias and his Cohort stormed the encampment, leaving more corpses waiting for Cyrus to step over.
"Miss me?" The Nekoshu teased, pointedly ignoring the Fallen Angel at his side.
"Barely." Ghislaine took his words at heart with a knowing smile, and within moments the trio worked in seamless harmony alongside their Night Wardens, clearing entire sections on their own before Legionnaires arrived to assist.
Cyrus drove his arm through a belligerent insurgent's chest, observing the audible clash of arms echoing throughout the encampment. The 10th Cohort was wading into the meat grinder, but it wasn't easy to ascertain where he was needed most from his current position.
The Kimaris heir dropped to a knee and splayed his right hand against the blood-soaked grounds. He scoured the encampment for Arkias's shadow and found his Primus fighting alongside the 1st Centuria to the south of his current position.
"Arkias…." The Primus Legionnaire flinched at his lord's commanding voice brushing against his ear. "…I need a status report on all Centurias."
Cyrus no longer possessed the pitch of a child stumbling through the darkness. His speech was a caustic whisper, neither loud nor abrasive, but capable of instilling terror into the souls of those who did not find comfort in the darkness.
"The 1st and 2nd Centuria's have broken through the outer perimeter and are pushing for all points of ingress," Arkias slammed his foot into a dying militant's throat and yanked his spear from their stomach. "Centurion Mernith is maintaining our rearguard and reporting several incursions by Loyalists patrols returning to base. Viktor Nebiros and his officers have garrisoned their forces around the command building. It's a heavy slog, but we're breaking them down bit by bit."
"Understood. Ghislaine and I will be with you shortly, maintain pressure, and keep them occupied."
"Yes, My lord." Cyrus pulled from the shadows and watched his Legionnaires fan out toward their objectives. The insurgents were fanatical but ill-prepared to face down a veteran Legionnaire in a straight-up fight.
"Come along, Ghislaine," Cyrus glanced at his fallen compatriot. "You as well, Crow. We have loose ends to tie up."
Viktor Nebiros and his Skin Walkers die tonight.
l==l
Amidst the imperceivable darkness of the Shadow Realm, a voice haunting and low echoed through the night.
An entity as old as time itself watched Cyrus with great interest, perceiving his thoughts even as he sought to hide them behind his fragile shell.
This…Devil was different from the others, a contradiction of raw emotion and constraint that beguiled what his race indeed was.
But…the entity already knew that.
Soon Reclaimer, Soon.
An ancient pretext from a long-dead people etched a warning into the stars.
We exist together now, Reclaimer—two corpses in one grave.
Be wary of what toils in the darkness.