Solar Flare: Redux

by qwertykid

The darkest shadow is always cast by the brightest light. Two souls undertake the same journey of self discovery to figure out their destiny and who the real enemy of all truly it. This fic is an alternate universe rewrite of Bayonetta 2 and is a direct continuation of Eclipse. Contains an OC, new lore and a whole bunch of Bayonetta goodness. Or so Loptr would have you believe.

11. Side Mission 2

Author's Note: I own nothing from Bayonetta and Devil May Cry

Side Mission 2: Seeker of Truth

…

"Daddy! Look!"

Cereza's cheerful tones piped up from somewhere behind him and Balder sighed. Lowering himself back down to the ground, he slowly cracked open his eyes and let the sun's warm rays fill them. It died down to reveal luscious, vivid colours; flowers and trees of all shapes and sizes populated his garden, all carefully cultivated by him over the last three years.

His daughter ran up to him, appearing from his left, holding a blossoming oleander flower in her hand. "Look! It's so beautiful!"

Balder lifted one arm and gently grasped at the stem, pulling the flower away. His eyes narrowed with a slight frown; he did not remember planting these. The only bushes Rosa had touched were the rosemary she had personally planted to remember her days as an Umbra Witch; toxic oleander wasn't something that he would even want in his garden.

"Cereza, my dear sweet child," he murmured, keeping his eyes on the flower. "Can you please go and find your mother?"

"Okay! I think she's still inside, fixing the m- m- mach-" She stumbled on the final word and he looked up to her with a smile.

"Machinery. Now, please go and find her."

Cereza's bright smile melted his heart and he could not help but return it. She turned and ran towards their home, stopping briefly to stand on her toes to reach the door handle and open it. His smile fell when she closed it behind her.

The scent of rosemary intensified.

"Lord Balder."

Balder closed his eyes and a glowing portal encased him, moving his entire being into Purgatorio. The sight that greeted him was expected, but still troubling and confusing; a trio of Joys were standing before him. Their expressionless faces bore down at his, not moving a single muscle.

"Why are you here?" He tried not to let fear quaver his voice, but there was no chance they had not seen his child. Both himself and his wife had known the risks their union would bring; they had gone to such lengths to hide both themselves and their love, and now some coincidence would tear them apart.

"We do not come to speak ill of your child, milord," the central one spoke. He assumed they were the leader. "We come to warn you."

"Of what? You've summoned a terrible fate upon my family and myself?" he sprung to his feet and readied magic at his fingertips. "Speak before I am forced to destroy you!"

"Calm yourself! We do not wish to fight!"

The smaller one on the left stepped forward, their hands held in a peaceful gesture. "We are here to warn you of them! The Lumen Sages are coming!"

Balder froze. His heart stumbled and world shattered into a million, razor sharp pieces, each one directed at him. "You lie."

"Paradiso is poisoned. Your reason to leave the ranks of the Sages never sat well with our superiors, nor yours. Investigations upon investigations have been occurring for the last year, all of them inconclusive," the Joy on the right spoke up, their voice timider and more reluctant than their siblings. "We do not know what changed, but they came to the conclusion that you were charmed by a Witch."

"But… how? I had legitimate grievances with the docile nature of the Elders. I made sure my love for Rosa was not discovered. Our child does not legally exist in any country, let alone Vigrid. It should have been impossible for anything to be discovered!" Balder knew that his release from the Sages wasn't as smooth as it could have been, but he had confidence that no one knew his true reason for leaving. Rosa did not have the same problem; some of the more famous Witches had left the clan of their own volition. She had walked out the same way Morgana Le Fay had, citing she wanted to start a family and that she would be back when she was ready to return. The difference was that she fully intended to do so.

"Our belief is they were informed. There is no logical reason that they would jump from an inconclusive question to a solid decision of finality," the leader answered solemnly. "Someone knew."

Who?

Who?

Who?

Balder's thoughts were going haywire. He had told no one. Absolutely no one had seen him whenever Rosa had managed to drag him away for a date. He had left them all behind before Rosa had convinced him to have a child.

"This is all meaningless. Your family is in danger, milord. You must take action or they will be lost!" the timid one shouted, then covered their mouth with their hands. The Joy opposite them gave them a supporting tap on the shoulder. They glanced up to see their heading nodding with approval and their resolve visibly returned.

"Why do you all care? Is our family not an affront to your beliefs? We have sired a child of light and dark, the ultimate fear of everything in existence?" he all but shouted. Balder knew his fear was becoming too much, but what else was he meant to feel? "Why are you not taking her away and erasing her existence?"

"She is innocent. Your daughter may be part of Loptr's Prophecy, but she has no say in who she is or what her role in history is meant to be," the leader said with a soft smile. "If we are being honest, those who seek to prevent a prophecy are those who ultimately fulfill it. As far as we are concerned, all we have observed is a loving family who are not deserving of the fate others wish to force upon them."

The door opened behind him and he glanced back to see a spectral Cereza leading the charge. She pointed at his last position, her face screwing into confusion when she couldn't find him. Rosa appeared in the doorway, her fingers instantly tapping her glasses to peer into Purgatorio. Her expression fell from confusion to terror and she barked to Cereza. A sigil appeared in front of her and the former Witch stepped through, Unforgiven appearing in her hands in a flash of green smoke. "What the fuck is this!?"

"Madame Rosa," the leader acknowledged with a bow of their head. "We do not bring good news-"

"Balder, can you please explain why there are three fucking Angels trampling our garden!?" he flinched at the tone. The only thing worse that a woman scorned was when his wife was angry at him.

"They have brought news that the Lumen Sages have found us." The words were ashes in his throat. But she had every right to know.

The reaction was immediate, albeit delayed. The fire and passion that always lingered in her eyes died into despair and her guns lowered, inch by inch until they were helplessly held by her sides. Her mouth opened and closed repeatedly, unable to form words or even sounds.

"Rosa, I-"

"We did everything right. We gave up everything to make sure we could not be found and our love not disturbed," she whispered, her voice dead. "And it wasn't enough. If they know, there is no place in the world we can run to hide. They'll find Cereza and-"

"They will not touch our daughter. I will not let them."

Balder reached across and gripped his wife's shoulder. "I swear upon my honour that our daughter will not be taken. I-"

"If the Lumen Sages are pursuing her, there is very little you can do to hide her." The timid Joy bowed their head. "We felt her radiance the second she was brought into this world. Power cannot be misdirected, and she burns the brightest of all."

"Your best course of action is to appeal to their humanity."

"They will kill her! Both the Umbra and the Lumen swore to never let a union such as ours to be formed; if they know we have sired their ultimate fear, they will not stop until she doesn't breathe!" Rosa burst out, slapping his arm away and moving towards the trio. "At best we could appeal for a humane execution and not some sick, twisted-"

"The Umbra have moved on from their decadent excess, Rosa," he reached for her again; this time, she offered no resistance and let him pull her close. "Their fear will not let them perform anything on our daughter. If they find her."

"They will." Rosa shuddered in his arms. "They know."

"I will not let them. I promise."

The leader of the trio tapped the side of their head. "Paradiso calls. We are apologetic, but we felt it was best to give you both some warning of what is to come."

"Thank you," he whispered gratefully. Swallowing, he pointed at them. "What is your name?"

The Joy considered the question for a second, then smiled briefly. "Our name is Benevolence, as gifted to us by our peers."

"Thank you, Benevolence. I hope we meet again in the future."

…

"Me? I'm the final legacy of Balder."

The Sage teleported to a roof of a nearby building, his thoughts racing and trying to make sense of anything he had just witnessed.

The Umbra Witch had a brother. Bayonetta had accomplices in Paradiso. She had enthralled a mortal.

But at the same time…

The brother was his final legacy? In what possible world did that make sense? Rosa did not have twins, nor did he ever break his commitment to her. This 'Damien' – a name he had gleaned from that traitorous Joy – felt like an amalgamation of existence. There was power evident within him, that he could sense and pinpoint, but everything else was a whirlwind of chaos. Lagunan, Infernal, human… He felt like a vortex of every possible being.

And that was discounting the familiar sensations that kept pinging from him. He wasn't sure what aspect of the man was giving him this feeling as everything seemed to be. He knew the human. He knew the demon. He knew the Angel. But at the same time, he did not.

And it was another question added to the pile that was growing larger and larger in every passing second.

Crouching down, Balder crawled over to the edge of the building and peered over. The Witch had grabbed both men by their ears and was dragging them towards a nearby bench. Both seemed to be talking over each other, evidently trying to appease her in some manner.

She was obviously the leader, as they were subservient. But why would a pair of enthralled beings need to explain themselves?

They were not enthralled, logic whispered. But are accomplices through and through.

That would make sense for the brother. Humans, as far he remembered, only lived for around forty years; a five-hundred-year-old human would a be miracle, but extremely unlikely.

Something wasn't adding up.

He kept his gaze on the brother. Ash blond hair adorned his scalp, a far cry from the raven locks of Bayonetta. His features were sharp, cold and harsh; again, a far cry from his supposed sister's rounded and welcoming face. Both had long bodies and longer limbs; the brother was thinner, but Balder could not attribute that as a clear genetical difference. Nevertheless, it still set the pair apart, just like his golden eyes clashed with her grey irises.

Someone he knew with golden eyes flashed through his mind, and Balder rolled his own with derision. Khepri's human form had them, yes, but that was mostly an in-joke between herself and Rosa. The Madama of Time was in no way, shape or form related to this… winged thing that claimed itself to be his legacy.

So, this Damien was Bayonetta's sibling? He ruminated on the question as the human stood up and started explaining something about Paradiso and answers. From every logical standpoint, every possible conclusion, the answer was no. He could not be.

But then why did Bayonetta react the way she did? If he truly wasn't her flesh and blood, then why did her reaction of surprise and relief look so genuine?

They could be the same as yourself and the Sages, or Rosa with her Witches. Bound by code and oath, not by blood.

Logic once again struck true. Observing the two again, he found that the looks they were giving each other, their relaxed body language and small touches of affection were genuine. They had to be. Surely an accomplice to a murderer wouldn't allow themselves to be so casual, so close.

Whoever this Damien was, he truly believed himself to be her brother.

Balder shook his head. This was just an act, meant to thrown him off his game. Loptr had already warned him about the enemy-

Wait.

Why didn't Loptr warn him about this brother?

The main reason he retreated was that he had no interest in fighting multiple opponents, nor ones he had any clues about. Bayonetta was an Umbra Witch; Clan tournaments and Rosa's flirtatious sparring sessions had given him more than enough experience to be comfortable with battling them, but he had never fought an amalgamation. He had also very little experience with Angels, but Balder was under the impression they fought like Witches. It still didn't make up for the fact that a winged man had shown up with magic he had never even heard of before and started hurling it around like it was second nature.

Five hundred years of history was what he had missed. There was a high chance that what he had understood of the branches of magic had warped and evolved, but this was something that he didn't recognise at all.

But that was getting beside the point. This Damien was a threat, regardless of his relation to anyone, and he wasn't even informed of his existence. If that was the case, then just what else was Loptr hiding? Was there an entire Bayonetta family out there, waiting in the wings, to foil his plan for revenge?

More of 'Damien's' words echoed out, as if in response.

"Ask the children he tortured to death."

His eyes closed as anger spiked through him. It was one thing to attach your existence to his legacy, whatever that meant, but to accuse him of daring to harm children? Balder knew what it was like to lose a child; why would he ever dream of bringing that pain onto another parent?

At the same time, something was asking him why. Why would someone who claimed to be his last legacy also turn around and claim that he had tortured children to death? Damien had been derisive of the former, in his defence; the man had not given him the impression that he was at all proud of the fact.

A final glance at the gathering beneath him solidified his decision. Something had happened in the last five hundred years; he was going to find out what.

Bayonetta turned to the mortal and began talking. The content of her words did not interest him, but one word stood out. One that gave a name to the face he would be hunting;

Luka.

…

The party had decided to split, or so it seemed.

Loki, Bayonetta and Damien were continuing onwards towards the mountain, evidently non-plussed by his appearance and unfazed by the growing threat to them. Balder respected that tenacity, but that was as far of a positive he was willing to give them. The Angel and the mortal had split off, seemingly heading in a random direction. As tempting as it was to follow the trio, he already knew where they were going. It wouldn't be too difficult to find them again.

Besides, if the mortal was not a thrall, then information would flow freely.

Taking care not to be seen by mortal or Angel eyes alike, Balder trailed the pair at a distance. The traitorous Joy had transformed into a simple-looking woman with auburn hair, wearing a speckled green and white sundress. They had attempted to match the population, but it was very clear who was the human and who was just pretending. Snippets of their conversation floated down to him, carried along the wind in the silence of the night.

"Do you really have to be transformed?" the mortal asked. "It's kind of distracting."

"Distracting how? If we are in the mortal realm, we should take care that we are fitting in," they answered, stumbling slightly. "Although these shoes leave a lot to be desired."

Balder glanced down on reflex to see that the Joy was wearing flats. The mortal voiced exactly what he was thinking: "Shouldn't that make it easier to walk?"

"We were born walking in heels. This… flat nonsense is not what we are accustomed to." A short meent passed and they chuckled. "Besides, now you can understand us without the need for us to replenish that translation spell constantly."

"That's fair. Why does it have a time limit?"

That, he knew the answer to. Balder slipped behind a building and followed the alleyway down, stopping and crouching in the shadows of the exit. Some magics, especially those that changed perception, were only as strong as the one who cast them. This Joy many be able to cast this spell, but from his own prodding at their defences, he was assuming that they weren't strong enough to keep it up for a long time.

What use to Bayonetta would a weak Joy be?

His question was answered the instant he saw them walking around the corner of the building. The face of the disguise was plain, unassuming and completely and utterly forgettable. The role of the Angel was never to duel the Matriarch's of the Nightstalkers, or to be able to channel Paradiso directly; it was to infiltrate and assimilate to those around them, then assassinate their target once necessary. Even if some of them were skill fighters, their intention in the grand scheme of Paradiso certainly wasn't.

A person as despicable as Bayonetta would not stop themselves from stooping to this dishonourable low.

"We need to practice. We rarely linger outside of Paradiso long enough to use this spell, and the times we do it is sometimes wholly unnecessary," they explained with a shake of their head.

"Hey! Practice makes perfect. And I guess with the current situation inside of Paradiso, that makes those opportunities all the easier."

The what?

Balder unconsciously craned his neck forward, hoping that the Joy would address this particular statement. They, unfortunately did not.

"We'll remove this horrid disguise once we reach our destination. Then, while we search, we'll try to keep the spell up for as long as possible."

"Horrid? I mean, I guess you are having trouble walking, but I think you look nice." The Mortal rubbed the back of his head awkwardly and Balder almost rolled his eyes. "No offense, but the form you chose is quite pretty."

"It is plain and simple. What is pretty about it?"

"I don't know. Sometimes I get the vibe that some people who are unnaturally beautiful are trying too hard to hide something. Jeanne used to be like that before she started dating, you know?" he said. "And we figured it was her past still catching up to her. Now-"

"Are you calling Jeanne beautiful? Luka" The Joy turned to him with a look of faux-offense. It uncannily reminded him of Rosa. A twang of longing passed through him, not for the first time.

"Wha- NO! I'm not! I respectfully call her attractive, because she is! If anything, Damien would be the one calling her beautiful, not me." The man's words rushed out like a waterfall. They stopped and he took in a long breath, one that seemed to calm him down.

"What do you mean by that?" The Joy asked.

Luka gave them a look of confusion. "What do you mean by what?"

"Damien calling Jeanne beautiful. Is she not betrothed to another?"

The man rubbed the back of his head with a nervous chuckle. "I wouldn't put it like that, but yeah, she basically is. And boy, does he know it."

That brought about a stare of pure confusion, amplified by the Joy's lack of precision with an unfamiliar face. "What could you possibly mean by that?"

Luka just stared at her incredulously. "Have you not seen the way he looks at her when he thinks no one is looking?"

"The last time Damien and ourself were in the same area was at Isla Del Sol, which did not feature a Jeanne. We've been out of touch since then, mostly because of our commitments to our realms. We have absolutely no idea how he looks at her," the Joy replied with scorn, stumbling over their feet again. "Does he look at her the same way you look at Bayonetta?"

Balder let the pair pass his crouched position in the alley with a raised eyebrow. So, it wasn't a coincidence that Damien had arrived when he did; he was another love-struck fool looking for some form of validation. Perhaps Jeanne's fate had been elucidated to him at a different time and made his way to Noatun then.

It still didn't explain why Loptr had not informed him of the man's existence.

The Joy's innocent statement did not go unnoticed. Balder narrowed his eyes at the mortals tightening posture, taking note of just how uncomfortable he was becoming.

"Wha-no! We are friends, that's all! And that's all there will ever be to it! Sheesh, why can't a guy just be friends with a girl for once!"

"She is considered extremely attractive for a human," the Joy mentioned.

"And?"

"You are attracted to her."

"I'm not! Gah, just forget it. There's nothing between us and, in regards to Damien, it's all just a theory anyway. We both know he would never admit to anything. You know what he's like." Luka sighed and pointed to a nearby fork. "Let's just get back on track. According to Loki, the library should be through this street and on the left."

Why in the blazes would they be going to a library?

Libraries were vaults of knowledge, yes. But these were pawns of Loki, accomplices of Bayonetta; what use would a library be to them? Every piece of information they could possibly need, they should already have.

He was still blind, yet but a lamb in the grand scheme.

Balder jerked upright and crossed his arms, frowning. He felt that he would have arrived at the same conclusion, not exactly referencing himself in that manner, but that was a little too fast for how he normally worked through problems.

The question then posed from that revelation lead to one answer; that was not his thought.

Voices inside his head were definitely not something he was unfamiliar with, as both himself and Rosa were used to conversing with their Contracted mentally. But aside from a brief alert from Temperentia to inform him that his powers were back, he had not encountered any of his former confidants. He hadn't sensed anything enter his mind.

Just who was out there?

Was it an Umbran trick, an attempt to throw him off his game? Balder dismissed the thought as it arrived. Bayonetta was clearly a fighter; any tricks would be physical, not magical. Her brother seemed more inclined towards that school of magic, but he seemed far too brutish for subtlety.

You should pay more attention to your surroundings, Onythyll. Who knows who might be listening in.

Something withdrew from his mind, and he felt a shadowy presence across the street. Glancing up sharply, Balder noticed a figure standing there, watching him. Every part of their being was hidden in the darkness, but the Sage knew their lips had twisted into a cruel smirk.

The figure blurred, then vanished into the night. Balder clenched his fist and slammed it against the wall in fury.

More unknown parties. Just who else was on this accursed island?

…

The library of Noatun, aptly named the Biblioteca, was a modest building situated about four streets from one of the three rivers that quartered the city. It looked to be about four stories tall, standing taller than its neighbours but not extravagantly so. The only reason he knew it was the library was because Luka and the Joy had walked inside.

Well, 'walked' wasn't the correct term to use at all; Luka had attempted to pick the lock only for the Angel to simply kicked the door down in frustration about three seconds in.

Balder glanced around, checking that no one was coming out of their homes to investigate the disturbance. As much as staying in Purgatorio allowed him to remain hidden from prying eyes, dragging mortals into the realm-between was forbidden. He still adhered to that part of their code; interrogating Luka there and exposing him to the dangers was an unnecessary risk to the man, which was something he was not particularly comfortable with.

Moving swiftly, yet with a calm poise of belonging to not arouse any suspicion, Balder crossed the street and pushed aside the ruined remains of the door. He paused before entering, turning around with a crawl up his spine; someone was still watching. His gaze trailed around the rooftops, trying to find a hint of anything out of the ordinary.

Nothing.

Balder assumed that it was the same figure as before, but at the same time he knew that assumption was as likely to be wrong as it was right.

'You seem apprehensive.'

Loptr's voice calmed his nerves to a point. Frowning slightly, Balder shook his head and returned to his task.

Have you told me everything about this situation? There was no use in playing dumb. Bluntness would give him the answers he desired.

'I gave you all the information necessary to help you with your revenge; the who, the what, the where and the why. You have seen the how. What else could you possibly need?'

You did not inform me of this brother. Or the Angel, or the mortal. Balder figured that answers would come if he approached them one at a time.

'The brother should never have existed,' Loptr instantly responded, his tone now sharp. 'No future's I have seen have ever involved it. Do not worry yourself with it at all.'

He almost questioned that, but then he remembered Loptr's title: the Prophet. That was what the being had initially introduced himself as, only giving him his true name later. The name itself was familiar, but Balder could not put his finger on why. Loptr was not a common name; he could not remember anything from his studies or anything else that he could clue his struggling mind with. It had to be nothing, he reasoned to himself.

But then why would the name resonate within him?

Why would you not see him? From my brief interaction with him-

'You have met?'

He swore he heard the smallest amount of panic in those words.

'Hmph. This brother is meaningless in your revenge. Ignore it.'

And just like that, it was gone. The abrupt change in demeanour threw the Sage off, but he tried to see the logic through it. Bayonetta was the executioner; not her brother. The vile Witch was who was working for Loki, not the brother. Besides possibly sharing her blood, another prospect he was highly doubtful of, the man was innocent in all of this.

He had to at least confirm his theory; is he innocent? Did he have anything to do with the murder of my family?

'Innocent? Hardly. That… abomination is all that is wrong with the world right now. It is not directly involved with their deaths, no, but it is connected in all other possible ways. Do you want to know what it is?'

Balder froze and focussed on this statement. You know?

'Some of the Umbra decided to simply construct their own child of light and dark. That 'brother' is a poor child who was experimented on until they become something beyond human,' the Prophet's words bristled with barely hidden anger, and each word was a burning dagger that melted his body. 'Bayonetta decided that giving up her baby brother was the best choice for these experiments.'

He couldn't stop himself. Balder threw open a portal to Purgatorio and screamed. Every emotion, every possible feeling was rushing through him. Fury.

Anger.

Hatred.

He had sacrificed so much. Rosa had sacrificed even more. All for their child that had to be hidden from the Umbra and Lumen.

And they had simply gone ahead and made their own!? What was the point of adhering to the Prophecy out of fear-

The Witches.

His fist tightened and he punched the doorframe. Whatever was left of it flew into the street, clattering and bouncing along the cobblestones. None of it gave him any reprieve.

The Umbra had discovered them first. They told the Lumen. The Lumen captured them. Rosa and Cereza were then handed over to the Umbra, who finally discovered just how strong a child of light and dark was. They killed them, just to hide the fact they were going to create their own as a weapon against all of reality.

Correction; they created it under the orders of Loki. Just so he could rule over all of existence unimpeded. The Father's sermons played over and over again in his mind, each word ringing truer and truer.

…

"Come on!"

Norik's youthful voice dragged his eyes away from staring the intricate designs of the cathedral. Balder blinked and shook his head, attempting to refocus on his friend. A flash of bright red hair passed by him and he found himself looking straight at a toothy grin.

"We are going to miss our first sermon as Lumen Sages! We have to-"

"Norik, we are not Sages yet. We are merely beginners of the clergy, not anything to be compared to our brothers," Balder corrected, reciting the passage from memory. "And besides, the schedule says that we do not need to be here for another-"

"Who cares about what the schedule has to say? We are here now! We can get in and get the best seats!" Norik grabbed at the sleeve of his smock and tugged. "And once we have them, everyone else will have to look past us!"

Balder internally shuddered. "Look, we should not be assuming ourselves better than anyone. We merely have begun our journey; hundreds of years will need to pass before we even get a chance to be counted amongst the ranks of the Holy Warriors."

"Ehh, we'll get there. They always say that the next generation will outclass the previous, and that's not to mention we were both selected due to our potential. I think we'll be just fine."

He pulled his sleeve from Norik's grasp and raised it up. Holding it against his chest, he slipped his fingers around the cross on his necklace. "I believe that She Above All will judge us when the time comes, friend."

"Have some faith, Balder! Anyway, the doors are open; let's go!"

And he was correct. The massive, carved stone doors of the cathedral were opening up, slowly and noisily dragging themselves along the floor. The crowd around them began to slowly move forward, increasing in pace as the entrance widened up. The pair were swept along with the mass of humanity, with Balder tripping as he was pushed around by the fervour that was sweeping through those.

He couldn't blame them. His own excitement and anticipation were building up, almost causing a giddy smile to break out on his face. But he did not let it. A Sage controlled his emotions and never let them affect his centre. Swallowing everything down, he straightened his face and continued onwards.

The interior was just as magnificent as the exterior. Large, vaulting columns rose up from the floor, carved from ornate white marble. Rows upon rows of pews surrounded a raised centre stage, each section coloured by a radiance from the ceiling. Frowning, Balder craned his neck back and his eyes widened at the sight. Stained-glass illustrations made up the ceiling, each one portraying events from throughout history.

The creation of the world, as formed by Omne.

The fissure of the world, along with She Above All, Aesir, and Argosax.

The Betrayal of Argosax, showing the fall of the former Lord of the Underworld.

The split of Aesir, portraying the two Eyes of the World.

And finally, the betrayal of Mundus, illustrating the final stand of Sparda and the seal he created with Temen-Ni-Gru to lock Inferno away forever.

Light shone through each one, illuminating the sections beneath it with a myriad of colours. The sight was breathtaking; there was nothing the Umbra could do that rivalled the magnificence of this. There was nothing the Nightstalkers could do that belayed the majesty of this.

It was simply incomparable.

"Come on Balder! They are about to start!"

Norik's voice again broke him out of his reverie, bringing his attention away from the glorious sight of the cathedral and to a nearby pew. The pair scrambled to take a seat, with his friend throwing him grins of both nervousness and excitement.

"Aren't you excited?" he asked, nudging his shoulder.

Balder hesitated, then answered plainly; "A Sage does not show emotion, nor partiality."

Norik raised an eyebrow. "You said we aren't Sages yet."

"That is true." A thin smile broke out on his face. "Then I supposed I can admit I am very excited."

A hush fell upon the crowd and the pair instantly were glued to the centre platform. The Lumen Father was descending from the heavens, his peacock coat billowing from a non-existent wind. His half-mask covered the right side of his face, contrasting against the blue of the Right Eye of the World.

Balder swallowed and bowed his head at the sight. That was the treasure he would dedicate his life to protect, above all else.

"My Lumen Brothers, my family…" His voice was old, yet powerful and kindly. Balder's fingers found his pendant again.

"I welcome you today for, of all things, a joyous welcoming to all of our new family. This year is the first to provide us with more than thirty aspirants who have chosen the path of the Sage. Every one of them had sacrificed their previous life to be with us; let us pray that this is not in vain."

The crowd muttered a small hymn in prayer, and Balder found his lips moving along with words he did not recognise or understand. This must be the holy language of Angels they were speaking, Enochian.

A nudge from his left again drew his gaze in that direction. Norik pointed at themselves with excitement in his eyes; "That's us! He's talking about-"

"Silence!" he hissed in return. Norik instantly quietened down and bowed his head as well.

"Thank you," the Father said once the hymn had finished. "I do bring good news from our sister-clan of the Umbra; they too had a large yield of aspirants who seek to fight against the darkness and protect the Left Eye of the World. The mortals of the world are slowly acclimating themselves to our presence, which can never not be a boon. The more protectors to Aesir's legacy, the stronger that defence becomes."

"But… that is not all. I have communed with the Elder's of the other clans, and it has become more apparent with each passing year that separation is not an objective of our core beliefs any longer."

That caused some discontent in the crowd. There was a smattering of mutters and murmurs in the silence that followed, but they all died down within seconds.

"We protect Aesir's legacy, as do the Umbra Witches. To become stronger, we need to align our goals and teachings with each other. As such, this year's aspirants will be subject to joint classes and studies with our sister clan."

Balder expected there to be an uproar, a cacophony of disapproval from the crowd. He certainly disapproved; the teachings of the Lumen were far more than necessary to teach him. That was all he needed to know! The Umbra could not teach him anything about devotion or humility or honour.

But there was only a shocked silence.

"Now, you must understand that not everything is as it seems. A storm is approaching, violent and unpredictable. The Umbran Elder knows this, the Night Mother knows this, the High Priestess too; inter-clan relationships need to be stronger and tighter. As the Nightstalkers and Desert Walkers are a little further out than we can afford to travel, as they are well beyond my reach, both myself and Matryona decided between us to allow our clans to interjoin our learnings for this inevitability."

The Father paused, as if to gather his thoughts. "But we must still be vigilant. The Prophecy of old still lingers over our heads and, above all else, we cannot let it come to pass. The Umbra will be your colleagues, your allies; they are not your friends. They are deceitful and cunning, the opposite to you. Even if you keep on your path of purity, they will tempt you. Treat them like one of your contracted, and nothing more."

…

The memory faded, but his fury did not. Balder closed his eyes, holding back tears, anger, emotions…

Everything.

The Father had been right. He should never have fraternised with the Umbra beyond their professional relationship. All it had brought was-

No. It would be an insult to Rosa and Cereza to even begin to follow that train of thought. Without rebelling against his orders… he would have never met Rosa. As much as his younger self would have objected otherwise, Balder's years after leaving the Lumen and living with her and their child had been the happiest of his life.

'Now do you understand?' Loptr spoke up, a calm amongst the chaos. 'I knew and lived amongst them. The hypocritical whelps never once thought about the consequences of their actions, and yet force them upon others.

The Umbra wanted their God. The Umbra wanted something far stronger and powerful than their peers and enemies, so that they were the supreme force. And look what happened; they killed those they could not control, then those who opposed them. An abomination was born, their hypocrisy wrought into existence, at the cost of their life.'

Balder opened his eyes. Why would they need such a creation?

'You know of Cereza's potential. Imagine the possibilities of something of her potential left to grow unchecked,' he answered. 'They created something that only a Primordius could hope to contain.'

The fury dropped and the hairs on the back his neck stood up. That was a turn of phrase he had not heard, either in his studies or in past conversations with Loptr.

But at the same time, something wasn't making sense. The man he had fought was not much stronger than the Witch, who wasn't even as strong as himself; how was a primordial being considered the fail-safe? Balder could admit he was not fighting at his full strength against either Bayonetta or Damien, as he was still trying to test them for weaknesses, but it felt that they were not performing the same tasks as he was.

In what way is that possible?

'When their true potential shines, you will know.'

Their?

There was no answer. Loptr receded from his mind, and Balder slowly turned back to the library, his mind trying to make sense of what had just transpired.

Riddles could wait. His mission could not. Clearing his head ofall thoughts, Balder strode into the library with renewed vigour.

…

The library was abandoned, as he expected at this time of night. Treading softly once he had entered the atrium proper, the only sounds that echoed through were the footsteps of his prey and the crinkling of books. The room was dimly lit by sparse candles that glowed in a set pattern, obviously by the Angel to keep track of their path. Of the seven rows of book-laden shelves, only the two furthest to the left were illuminated.

An intelligent move, to be sure. But while in unknown territory and when they knew there were foes unaccounted for?

Balder's gaze lifted to a painting that overlooked the three central aisle; it depicted an old interpretation of Death, cloaked in darkness, overlooking a field of Elysium. The longer he stared at it, the more unsettling it became. Each soul was screaming in the fields of paradise and the skeleton seemed to be grinning directly at the painter, its fingers wrapped around a strange weapon composed of intersecting swords instead of the typical scythe.

Just what was the artist depicting? He shook his head and moved on, each step away still carrying the uncertainty that something was watching. It was definitely not the painting.

He found the Angel first. The Joy had a trolley full of books and was flipping through them at an alarming rate. A glance at the spines made him frown; all of them were books detailing history and myth. He knew the pair had come to this library for a reason, presumably research, but this? History? What was in the past that they needed to know?

"Useless…" the Joy spat, tossing the book in its hands onto the growing pile of discards behind it. It had shed its disguise and was roaming in the mortal realm as an Angel, and the incongruity of the scene finally clicked a previously unseen puzzle piece into place in Balder's mind. Access to the mortal realm had been closed off for all Laguna long before his time, unless they were summoned via a conduit. This one had seemingly entered without any issues; something else must have changed.

"Found anything?"

There. The mortal was a few shelves across. Balder gave the Joy one last glance and slipped across the aisle, finding him perched on a ladder, reaching up to the top shelf as he continued to speak."For me, I've found one snippet on Loptr, nothing on Loki, and a boatload of nothing on Aesir."

Shouldn't Loki have told them who Loptr was?

"Keep looking," the Joy said after a pause. "There will be something. We are certain of it."

"Gah. Considering Aesir used to live here, it makes sense for someone to take everything with information about them away so we are still left completely in the dark. Luka leaned his elbows on the shelf, resting his weight against it. "But Loki and Loptr? Surely, they would have something on them?"

"This is Loptr's domain. If he wishes for no one to learn about this place, it makes sense for him to-"

"You think Loptr is the Prophet?"

They did not know anything. Balder began to approach the mortal, each step another silent curse at their sloppiness. The only logical explanation was Loki had set them up to fail.

But why?

Loki had some very powerful, if not at least useful, puppets at his disposal. Wasting them on busywork was pointless.

"Who else could it be? Loki has a brother, who is known as Loptr. Our adversary has some kind of connection to Loki as well, so we imagine that the connection leads there."

Luka scoffed, stepping down from the ladder. "Aesir, and Loki by association, are thousands upon thousands of years old. And that's understating it by a lot."

"Your point is?"

"There's gotta be someone else he's pissed off in that time. Maybe one of the other Primordius-"

"This is not Mundus or Argosax's style. The Prince of Darkness has his own methods of causing insurrections, and his base of operations is Mallet Island," the Joy cut over him, their voice sharp. "The Despair Embodied has not been seen in a millennium."

"What about those rumours of Dante killing them?"

That name again. Loptr had mentioned something about a problematic Dante before, and had withheld answers when Balder had tried to inquire further. The best he had was that the man was a Devil Hunter.

Which, of course, confused him to all end. Why would Loptr care about a Devil Hunter? The only logical explanation was that he was trying to stop the man from destroying the demon they had used to steal Jeanne away, but Balder knew that incursions into Inferno were difficult since the raising of Temen-Ni-Gru.

"Considering there was no body and we can still sense them lurking in the depths of Inferno, they are possibly unfounded."

Balder noticed a doorway off to the right, labelled with 'meeting room'. Edging towards it, he began to close the distance between both himself, it, and the man.

"Well, no use in discussing hypotheticals. Gotta keep on looking, and look we shall." Luka stretched his arms above his head. "Do you want me to keep quiet?"

"We prefer silence when studying," came the curt answer.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Balder slowly wrapped his fingers around the handle and reached out. The room had no windows in from the library itself; it would be perfect for a conversation without prying eyes.

In one smooth motion, he grabbed hold of Luka's collar and opened the door. He pulled the mortal back before he could register the sudden change in scenery, twisting around to haul him bodily off his feet and tossing his hat of their head. Closing the door silently, Balder summoned half of his glaive and pressed it against his prisoner's neck.

"If you scream for help, you'll never scream again," he whispered, and the mortal stiffened in his grip. "Now, I'm going to let you go. When I do, you will sit in that chair. Understand?"

"Yes."

He hated how terrified Luka was. This was all sorts of wrong, and he knew it. Mortals were supposed to be prideful of their protectors, both Sage and Witch, not cowering from them in terror.

"Good." Balder released him and dematerialised the glaive. Luka practically threw himself at the chair, staring back at him with fear-blown pupils and a face so pale Balder wondered whether or not he still had blood. He clicked his fingers, and the room briefly glowed gold from the Lumen Symbol appearing on the door. Satisfied with the silence spell, he focussed on the man sat before him.

He took the time to take in the mortal's appearance. He was young, perhaps slightly younger than Balder's own visage, with smooth brown hair reaching just past his chin. His eyes, darting around the room with increasingly rapid agitation, were a clear and pleasant grey. Even the unkempt stubble on his chin looked more like an intentional choice to frame his face as opposed to a sign of sloppy hygiene, which is more than Balder would have said of most of his peers around the same age. It felt safe to assume the primary reason Bayonetta would keep someone like this around was for eye candy.

He was, as Norik would put it, quite the looker.

"Who are you?" The name was known; Balder wanted something a little more substantial than that.

"Fuck you."

He was impressed by the fire of rebellion that was still burning, despite the obvious terror. But still, the vulgarities were very disagreeable. "You do understand that I could have killed you just as easily as I brought you here, correct?"

"Well, then why haven't you done so?" Luka asked, still not answering the question.

"Why do you think, Luka?"

A strange shiver convulsed the mortal, his eyes bugging out almost comically. "How do you know my name!?"

"There are many things I know, Luka, but who you are is not one of them. I wish to learn." Balder reached up, removed his mask and lowered his hood. His long, silver hair cascaded down his shoulders, finally free from its cloth prison. He almost let out a sigh of relief, but he controlled himself. "Please, tell me who you are. I will not ask again."

Luka sat in stunned silence, his eyes boring into Balder's with shock and confusion. He swallowed and, after a few seconds of opening and closing his mouth repeatedly, said, "I don't owe you any explanations, pretty boy."

Balder closed the gap between them in the space between seconds and grabbed onto the headrest of the chair. The mortal shrieked and covered his head, cowering in fear. "You will tell me who you are, mortal. I can drag your answers out of you if I need to, or I could simply take them straight from the source." He tapped one finger against Luka's temple. "I'm merely giving you the luxury of being able to tell me yourself under your own free will."

He was bluffing. Balder had no intentions of harming Luka, unless the man wanted to escalate the situation. Taking a few steps backwards, he waited for the mortal's next move.

"I'm Luka," came the defeated answer. "Luka Redgrave. My friends call me Cheshire and no, you are not my friend."

"I'm not planning to be, Redgrave. Who are your family? I do not recognise the Redgrave name, nor its bloodline."

"Dead. My mother died from… medical complications, and my father was murdered by a Lumen Sage."

Balder could not stop his sharp intake of breath. He narrowed his eyes and folded his arms. "Explain yourself. Why would a Sage want to murder your father? He was nothing more than a mortal, correct?"

"Of course, he was just a mortal; he's my Dad! My father worked with the 'great' Lumen Sage Balder, finding out all of his dirty secrets in the process. Once the asshole had no more further uses for him, he was deemed… expendable." The last word had a deeper tone to it, as if he was mockingly paraphrasing someone.

The inadvertent insult from the man barely registered on his mind. Balder could count on one finger how many Lumen Sages had the name Balder; this man was specifying him. But what in the glory of the Creator would possibly drive him to murder, presumably, a mortal? Mortals were mortal; they expired. Any secrets they had would die with them.

And what secret would he have-

"Your father knew about my daughter!?"

Within a blink he had slammed Luka against the wall, fingers wrapped tightly around his throat. Anger was burning through him; death was but a mere release for Luka's father if he had been the one to inform his former brothers of Cereza's existence.

"Why… why would Balder c-c-care about…" Luka wheezed, his own hands ineffectually prying at the death grip around his neck.

And with those words, logic began to break through. The mortal had no idea that he was Balder. His father would have been murdered in, at most, the last twenty years, given his age. Cereza died over five hundred years ago.

There was no possible connection between the two.

The anger faded and guilt clawed its way into the forefront. Letting the mortal down, Balder turned around and began fixing the chair back upright. "I apologise. My daughter was murdered, and I've only learned of how and why very recently. I do not blame you, but-"

"You were affected by him too? Sheesh," Luka massaged his throat, his eyes relaxing in understanding. "I guess it makes sense, trying to create a child of light and dark from someone already of the light."

What?

The Sage halted in all movement and tried to think about how he was supposed to approach this. He had stolen children in an attempt to create another child of light and dark? That… It was completely nonsensical! The Umbra had been the ones to commit this atrocity! The Prophet had just told him!

"I mean, if all the Clans were killed off in the Witch Hunts, then turning to your own brothers for experiment material makes sense," the mortal continued, completely unaware of Balder's internal conflict. "And here I thought you were trying to avenge Balder by going after Bayonetta."

"I have a score to settle with the Witch, mortal, one that can only end with her slain at my feet," he snapped. Balder did not know exactly what Luka was implying, but he would be damned if it included himself and the Witch on the same side.

"What's your problem with her anyway? She's never met a Lumen Sage besides Balder," Luka said, frowning deeply. "Just who are you?"

The answer was upon his tongue before he could consider the question. "It doesn't matter. If you will not tell me about yourself, then tell me about her."

The mortal shook his head and took a step backwards. "I don't think-"

Balder summoned an orb of fire and tossed it at the wall. It exploded in an array of reds and oranges, bursting outwards like a blooming flower that blackened into ashes. The sudden flash and noise drew a terrified squeak from Luka, who flinched and cowered away from him. "I am tired of your insistence to not give me any answers. Tell me about her, mortal. I want to know."

"What else is there to tell! She… she was torn from her family as a child, raised by the Umbra – who, by the way, quite frankly would have rather left her in a ditch to die – and then she was put to sleep by her best friend for five hundred years for her protection!" he burst out, emotions running high. "And when she wakes up, she has no memories and has to navigate a world that's completely alien to her, around people who want nothing more than to abuse her for her power and people like me who wanted to kill her!"

Luka then shook his head, almost in sadness. "And you know what? It gets even more fucked up! So we get to the man who had ruined her life, and he's murdering millions in an attempt to create her a brother? Why? Because he could. He took her family away from her, ripped away every single fucking thing she held dearest, because he could. He took way her best friend for no reason other than he could!"

Balder stood motionless, trying to analyse everything the mortal had said. Why would the Umbra take in a child they obviously despised? Why would he order – actually, that was easy to explain. It would make sense for him to keep a close watch on the other Clans once he returned to his time; if they began to stray from their purpose, then they too would face judgement. The new information about Bayonetta and Damien's relationship was starting to paint a clearer image of why the pair shared no physical traits.

But the man could be lying. The truth, as told by Loptr, was already disproving a lot of what Luka's story supposedly 'explained'. Bayonetta had not been put to sleep; she had been murdering his wife and child, then tossing her brother towards Umbran Sorceresses for experimentation. The mere fact Luka was telling him that he was the one to perform these experiments was nothing short of maddening.

Balder managed to keep his temperament in check. Swallowing to make sure his emotions did not swell over, he responded briefly, "What was this 'Balder's' plan?"

"Pretty simple. Reawaken the Creator, recreate the universe in his image, and rule over it as a 'benevolent dictator.' And guess who stopped him? His long-lost daughter."

A cold chill spread through Balder, tingling and burning. His eyes hardened and his breathing slowed to a crawl. "What did you say?"

"Balder had a child, you know? A Child of Light and Dark," Luka started, each word a biting bullet that burst through his body, splitting him open in every passing second. "He enthralled her mother, made an innocent child believe she had a loving family when all-"

He had heard more than enough. Balder summoned his glaive and pointed it at the man's throat. "Do not utter another word about them."

"Why? You know how many times I've had to console her while she cried for someone to fucking love her, because her parents surely didn't?" The mortal snapped. "Balder saw both of them as nothing more than a tool to use and throw away. She's never mentioned any theories or thoughts about it, but I believe that he personally killed her mother just to tie up loose ends-"

"ENOUGH LIES! MY CHILD IS DEAD!"

The door burst open, flying apart in shards of wood and a strange blocky substance. The Joy from before stood there, lowering their leg with a hat held in one hand. Their mouth was set in grim determination that quickly fell apart into shock when they got a good look at his unmasked face.

"Balder?"

"Balder?" the mortal cried out and a quick glance showed the Sage that he was on the edge of a panic attack. "Balder!?"

Balder swung his body around until he was pointing his weapon at the Angel. "You recognise me, traitor. How?"

"What are you doing with Luka?" They ignored his question, tossing the hat aside and transforming their hands into guns. "Get away from him!"

"Answer my question first."

The Joy braced themself by spreading their legs out to give them a sturdier base. Their upper body was still loose, ready for any action or reaction they would need to take. "We were there, five hundred years ago, when we warned you about the threat to your family. And you repaid that gesture of faith with the genocide of millions."

"I have done no such thing," he growled in response, swinging the glaive across to hold it with both hands. "Your accusations are unfounded, traitor."

"We are not traitors! You gave up on your oath, you enslaved Paradiso-"

"I do not have the power to usurp She Above All, traitor. If you know me, then you would know that." Another statement that made no sense. If he wasn't already prepared to kill both Bayonetta and Loki on sight, Balder would honestly be interested in sitting down and listening to their whole fabricated story. It was very fascinating.

But what if they were ri-

No. Loptr was right. He would not doubt the path laid before him.

"You did! Do not try to delude us into believing our history is false!" the Joy snarled. "You took my sisters, my family, my life from me!"

"Can we go back to the part where my father's murderer is standing right there!?" Luka cried out, pointing towards him. "And I thought you were another victim of… yourself!"

"I killed your father?" Balder spared a single, incredulous glance at the mortal. "I have no idea whom your family is!"

"Luka, get out of here! You know Bayonetta would kill me if a hair on your head was harmed," they snapped, moving aside to open up a gap between themself and the doorway.

"I just want to know why this fucker is still alive!" He shook his head. "I'm not leaving until I find out."

Had they not worked it out yet? Balder scoffed and lowered his weapon slightly: "I am from the past. Whatever happened to my future self clearly has not occurred yet."

"We were wondering why you looked so young…" the Joy muttered, then shook their head. "It doesn't matter. You are here to harm the Arch Eve and Luka. You are still a threat, regardless of who you are."

Balder gritted his teeth and returned his glaive to its offensive stance. He could sense the mortal to his right, tensed and ready for action. The Joy copied his movements, still trying to herd Luka out of the room.

They need not have bothered.

He started by splitting his glaive in two and spun both to imbue them both with energy. Balder then slammed them against the floor, launching out a concussive blast with himself safe at the epicentre. The unreinforced wall that divided this meeting room from the library was obliterated, along with the closest row of books. The mortal was flung back into the wall with a meaty smack. One sharp cry of pain erupted from his throat, and then there was silence. The Joy rode the blast out, flipping to land against the second aisle.

Magically formed bullets flew at him. Balder summoned a barrier in response, reforming his glaive into one and watched as they impacted ineffectually on the golden surface. The Joy dropped down from the shelf, crouching and flipping forward in a very Umbra-like manoeuvre. Their heels spilt the shield in two, only to be met by a thrust from his glaive.

The Joy spun around his blade, transforming their guns into a pair of short, curved swords. One slashed down at him from the right, aimed directly at his neck. Balder leaned away and split his own weapon into two as well, flinging one at the sword held in their left land. They collided with a dull 'clang', spinning out of both of their grips and across the room, and they were both once again left with one weapon apiece.

Balder wasted no time gripping the elongated handle of his glaive with both hands, kicking the Joy's remaining sword out of the way and raising his own above his head. His follow-up slash missed as the Joy disengaged with a twirl, morphing their weapon back into a single pistol. More bullets sprayed towards him and he simply raised his left hand in response. Reality flickered as time crawled to a halt, allowing him to close the distance with a sprint. He drove his free arm's elbow into their stomach and followed up with an uppercut slice that began to launch the Angel upwards. A click of his fingers restored the natural passage of time and the Joy slammed into the ceiling, causing dust and debris to rain down.

The attack only temporarily stunned his foe. They pulled themself free from the wood and stone and transformed their weapon into a whip. It struck out with several ear-shattering cracks, forcing him onto his back foot in order to duck and weave beneath them. Landing softly on the stone tiles, the Angel took the advantage and rushed forward, returning the whip back into its longsword form and disappearing with a flicker of gold and green flashes.

Balder jolted back, frowning intensely. Was that a cloak spell? Teleportation? What had-

His instincts screamed from his left, and he resummoned the second half of his blade to deflect a thrust from the Joy's sword with mere milliseconds to spare. Joining its halves back together, Balder rotated his glaive in a wide arc and flipped over his swing to blast the Angel with ice. He missed, unfortunately, and watched as the Joy disappeared again.

This time, the attack was from behind. Balder managed to anticipate this one, turning and grabbing the sword with one hand as it thrust in. With a grunt of exertion, he pulled it backwards to knock the Joy off-balance. They stumbled forward, and he took advantage of the lapse of defence and splayed his palm out.

A blue orb of lightning formed over his hand, then launched itself at point-blank range at the Angel. It connected, shocking the Joy into distorted screams of pain. Balder then dismissed his glaive and reached up with one hand, silently gathering his power. A larger glaive-blade formed above him, then slammed down onto the defenceless being with a loud and resonant clang.

Only it didn't. The Joy disappeared with a flash of green light, then something tumbled onto Balder and knocked him over. Before he could even begin to comprehend what was happening, a fist began to smash repeatedly into his nose. The first strike broke it, and the remaining began to splatter blood and cartilage everywhere. With a roar, he resummoned his glaive and kicked the Joy off him, warping himself back into a standing position.

The Joy flipped backwards with the momentum, cartwheeling out of the way of Balder's follow-up slam. Balder delayed for a second, then pirouetted into an overhead spin. The forces pulled his body horizontal and he became a whirlwind of death. The assault was not lethal, however, but it was effective; it sliced up both the floor and the Angel's defences, slamming the Laguna into the ground repeatedly and tearing its body to shreds. Gasps of pain echoed through the building, each one music to his ears. Twirling back upright when he began to fall back to Earth, the Sage merely raised his fist and punched the falling Joy in the head.

The heavy blow launched them, sending the Angel crashing back into row two. This time they fell back to the ground, landing heavily against the stone floor. Golden ichor leaked from every wound Balder had inflicted in the flurry, spreading in contrast to his own red blood that lay in puddles, staining the stone.

"Did you really think you could challenge me?" Balder growled, raising himself back into a standing position. Green energy spread out from his glaive, healing every part of his injured body from the brief skirmish. He summoned an orb of fire above his free hand, holding it aloft. "You are weak."

The Joy slowly began to raise themself off the ground, each movement aggravating their bleeding wounds further. "We know. But we had to try."

"Why does Bayonetta keep you around? Are you her pet, like the mortal?" He tossed the fireball at them, watching it scald and blacken their chest Garbled screams ripped from their throat and he slammed the flat side of his glaive against their head to shut them up.

He should kill them. This Joy would be another loose end that would need addressing before he was finished here.

But at the same time…

Why would they so foolishly throw their life away for a murderer? Why would they heed themself to the command of the one who was manipulating fate to his design? The proud Laguna bowed to no one but Jubileus; why would this be the path they had chosen?

"Who are you, Laguna?" Balder spoke in Enochian, lowering his blade into a neutral position, hanging loosely by his side. This battle was very clearly over.

"We… We are Hope… as… titled…" their voice was failing. Death was but a certainty for the Angel now. "…by… Benevolence…"

That was a name he did not expect to hear. He had harboured doubts that this Angel was one of the three that had approached him on that fateful day, but true names of Laguna were not shared so easily. To know it with such familiarity confirmed their identity.

"Why did you come back now? And not when my child was slaughtered, along with my wife!?" he burst out, fury building back up. "Where were you!?"

"You…" Hope slowly turned to him, their hidden eyes accusing. Their movements were becoming increasingly sluggish and heavy. "You changed. We couldn't… find you… for four years… and when you returned… you were… different."

The rage subsided and he narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean, different?"

"We're dying…" they whispered, fading out of consciousness.

A second passed, and Balder knew what he had to do.

The glaive disappeared and green energy coalesced around his hands. He quickly knelt beside the Joy and placed them on their shoulders. The spell passed from him into the Angel, and all of their wounds began to knit themselves back together.

They had attempted to save the lives of his family. It would be wrong for him to let them die.

You tried to kill them, did you not? Why save your enemies when you could crush them?

That voice again!

His head snapped up, looking towards the darkened sections of the library. Again, he could barely make out a shadowy figure, watching and smirking at the scene before.

And that is why you are weak. You know what you must do, yet you do not have the strength to do it.

Something rustled, and the previous feeling of being watched came back, this time one-hundred-fold. Balder's eyes slowly dragged themselves away from the figure to the painting-

It was empty. All it depicted was a golden-brown field under a black sky.

A shriek of laughter broke through the silence, followed by a chorus of giggles. Balder slowly stood up, his eyes darting everywhere in an attempt to find the culprits. His glaive reappeared in a flash of light, both hands gripping the handle loosely. He left the Joy, their wounds still knitting back together, and stood up to face the darkness.

"What sort of devilry is this?" he asked the echoing laughter, not expecting an answer.

He got one anyway.

Five of those strange, intersecting weapons phased through the bookcases around him, each one snapping shut and opening repeatedly. Skeletal hands gripped the ends of these conjoined and crossed swords, followed by billowing cloaks of pure darkness. Four of these figures had pale, expressionless faces that stared blankly at him; they seemed to be attached to the cloaks themselves, changing his earlier assumption that there were bodies underneath. Those same four also glowed a deep purple, a colour that was only distinguishable through the black due to the fifth being at their centre.

The leader, or so he assumed, did not carry a conjoined pair of swords. It carried a pair of scythes that burned with orange fire; the same colour emanated from it in a glow. This one's face was a cow's skull, glowing red with a piercing gaze of pure malice.

"A Death Scythe…" Hope was behind him now, their voice strained. They had not healed fully yet, but they were still ready to "And Sin Scissors. Both of which should be impossible to be here."

"Well, they are. But what do you mean?"

"Mundus's power and influence fell once he was stripped of the Rule of Inferno, and his Primordius status," they answered, their hands forming into guns. "His servants abandoned him and flocked to Sheba. This is unlike her."

That was surprising. "Madama Sheba is the Empress of-"

"Queen," Hope instantly corrected.

"It doesn't matter. Sheba never liked Sages to begin with; to defeat the last living Sage would be a pleasure for her all the same." Balder watched as the five spectral Demons began to circle above the pair, laughing and clashing their weapons together in a primal form of intimidation.

"Sheba knows what's at stake. She would not dare harm the human."

"Luka? She wouldn't care about-"

"There is much you do not know."

There is much you both do not know.

Both statements arrived simultaneously. Balder's frown deepened and his unease grew; as much as he did not want to admit it, both were correct. The events, as told to him by Loptr, were starting to lose credibility with every passing second-

Why was he listening to a Joy, especially one that worked with his enemies? Or to a shadowy figure that was still too cowardly to show their face?

The Death Scythe then decided it had waited long enough. A piercing wail erupted from its lungs, rippling through the air as a miasma of despair. Balder flinched at the onslaught, but raised one hand and closed it into a tight fist.

"LEVANAEL!"

Lightning struck true, knocking the Demon out of its sonic attack and staggering it down to Earth. Before Balder could capitalise on the opening the four Sin Scissors swarmed forward, their blades opening wide. He rolled beneath them and felt the stiff breeze that followed their strike blow past. The force from their speed alone was enough to stagger him into a braced crouch. He stayed on the ground, relaxing his muscles and watching the Demons vigilantly.

The Joy sprang into action, leaping over the sweep and bouncing off the head of the closest Sin Scissor. Their hands transformed into dual maces, and they brought them down with a cry of exertion-

Another Sin Scissor barrelled into them before they had the chance to strike. The Demon laughed as the pair flew at the third bookcase across, slamming into it and knocking it over into number four. Two other Demons flew after them, their weapons clashing and clanging in a sporadic pattern. Balder slowly stood up and gathered his wits as the fourth demon began to circle around him; this may have been an unfamiliar foe, but his quest would not end here.

Tossing his glaive forward, Balder spread his arms out wide and thrust them forward to release a beam of concentrated time. The weapon was parried by the… – he was going to call these intersecting blades shears now – but his magic landed true. The air rippled and distorted around the partially frozen Demon, and Balder knew he had to strike now. The glaive reappeared in his right hand as he sprinted forward, looking up at its expressionless mask; that was where Hope had initially focussed. Considering it was one of two tangible objects on the Demon, it had to contain something; either its core or a weakness.

Leaping up, Balder pointed his glaive down and tried to stab it into the mask. It deflected off ineffectually, and for the first time in his life the Sage cursed himself for not choosing something more suited to bludgeoning as his favoured weapon. Landing on its shoulders, he noticed that there was an indent running around the mask.

The mask was atop something. It was a layer of protection; he had to strip it away.

Balder broke his glaive apart and pierced both halves into the gap. With a mighty wrench the mask popped off, revealing a fleshy, pulsating ball. He stared at it for a solid second of disgust, then thrust one half of his glaive into it. Fire wrapped around his palm and snaked its way into the flesh, blackening and burning it. The time spell weakened, then collapsed, releasing a shriek of pure agony into the world. Flipping off of the burning corpse, Balder combined his glaive again and watched with satisfaction as the shears fell from its hand to the ground, penetrating the stone with ease.

A chorus of shrieks grabbed at his attention, pulling Balder back to the three other Demons floating above. Their expressionless masks were fixated upon him, but their agitated movements told him they were anything but calm.

A smirk slowly formed upon his lips. "I know your weakness, fiends. You will no longer be a challenge."

Before either he or the remaining Sin Scissors could act, a whip cracked and one of the three was instantly dragged down. Balder watched as Hope morphed their hand into a mace and clubbed the stone mask of the Demon, shattering it completely. They disengaged with a twirl, transforming the mace into a pistol and firing into the true body. The Demon exploded and their shears went flying, spinning and bouncing off the nearby wall.

"Do not lose focus, Balder!" Hope called out, focussing their attention on the remaining Sin Scissors. "We will handle these two; you must finish off the Death Scythe!"

Laughter echoed in response, and Balder turned around to find the aforementioned Demon floating a foot above the ground, its gaze boring into his own. The scythes twirled and something launched him into the air. Quickly recovering his orientation, the Sage found himself being tossed by pillars of hardened fire and light. He could see something approaching him from the corner of his eye, and he swung his glaive to parry the first strike from the foe.

It was unrelenting; the dual wielding had the disadvantage of lacking a sturdy defence, but its offensive was practically doubled in exchange. Balder found himself at a complete disadvantage in this fight. Not only was he currently airborne with no real way of returning to the ground – his least favoured form of combat – he could not find an opening to exploit. Every swing and parry were mirrored by a swing from the opposite scythe, forcing him to defend or be sliced apart by the blade.

The Death Scythe retreated back, then began to spin its arms around its body. It approached him again, the air beginning to shimmer in a tornado. Balder's eyes widened in alarm. What was he meant to do in a situation like this?

'Do not panic, my lord,' Temperentia's voice echoed in his mind. 'There is a way.'

Time slowed down as the Lord of the Winds bolstered Balder's resolve. The Death Scythe was still moving at incredible speeds, but he now had more time to think. Balder started by looking down to figure out why he was held aloft; it seemed that these pillars were inverting gravity, if not removing it entirely. Thrusting his palm out, he tried to counteract the spell but he could not figure out how to interact with the magic.

He didn't really have a choice, but he could make do with this aerial assault. It would be an insult to his training

Balder looked back up to see the Death Scythe mere metres away. Aligning himself upright, he closed on fist and gestured with the other.

"ALLAR DE OL!"

A golden chain burst from his hand, wrapping around the closest scythe. Balder gripped onto the chaim, pulling back on it once it tightened. Time resumed as normal and the scythe was torn from Death Scythe's grip. The spell beneath Balder crumpled and he began to fall to the ground.

In the background he could see the pair of Sin Scissor sweeping their blades at Hope, who dodged with an acrobatic leap. They landed on bookcase five, grabbing the top shelf and hurling it at the closest Demon. The projectile shattered into splinters and paper, but the Demon shook it off with a giggle.

The Death Scythe roared and Balder return to see it whirling its weapon above its head, holding it now with both hands. A new barrage of attacks forced him to duck and weave under some, and to deflect those that came too close. Growling with exasperation, Balder whipped the chain up in an attempt to throw the demon out of its fury.

It worked… to an extent. The Death Scythe merely countered with a swipe that tore apart the chain, but it had stopped its advance on the falling Sage; Balder once more had time to think. Bracing himself, he landed on the ground with a roll and glanced up to see that opportunity had now passed. The Demon had recovered from the momentary distraction and was hurtling toward him.

Magic seemed to be an issue for it. Maybe he should try that.

The glaive disappeared and he spun his arms around in a circle, staring down and raising them up above his head. Power surged through him and he released it with a single word:

"QUANSB!"

A portal of red and white opened in front of him and a meteor ripped through, colliding with and obliterating the Demon in one strike. It continued and burst through the ceiling, causing a support beam to fall down and annihilate the bookcase Hope was standing on.

"Really?" came the exasperated cry. Balder merely shrugged and turned his attention to their two final foes.

It was lucky that he did. One had drifted towards his position and now seemed intent on avenging its fallen comrade. Halting the channelling of the meteor spell and leaving the stray rock to fly into the depths of the ocean, he summoned the glaive and hurled it at the Demon.

The weapons struck together in a horrible clashing of metal. To his benefit, it knocked the Demon off balance with a surprised screech. Balder knew he had an opportunity to strike and he took it. Flaring his palms out to use a wind to give him a boost, he jumped up and swung his foot in a roundhouse kick. It collided with the mask and knocked it clean off. The pulsing orb at the centre was revealed and a lightning bolt from the heavens annihilated the rest of it. The shears flew off into the waiting hands of Hope.

"Time for a taste of your own medicine!" The Angel ripped apart the shears and began slashing wildly at the remaining Demon. For the first time in this skirmish, it was on the back foot, forced to defend. The Sin Scissor shrieked against the onslaught, then knocked Hope back with a wild swipe downwards. It followed up with a spinning slash, twirling its entire body into the motion.

Hope parried it effortlessly.

That was all it took to throw the demon completely off balance. The mask slipped and revealed the flesh beneath. Hope took advantage instantly and stabbed one half of the shears into the exposed weakness, then the other to finish it off. Black smoke billowed from it, dissipating its form from existence in seconds.

Balder resummoned his glaive back to his hand and held it loosely by his side. "Thank you for the aid, Lagunan."

Hope seemed to be breathing more heavily than he would have expected. They jumped down and leaned against the ruined bookcase, their hands gripping the shelving for support. "We… it's nothing."

There was still tension in the air. Balder did not fault them for it and decided to address the obvious; "I do not trust you with anything further, Hope. We may be allies for the moment, but you have decided to join forces with that accursed Witch. I cannot stand that."

"Why are you hunting us, Balder? We are all distanced from any quarrel you could have had five hundred years ago; Jeanne and Bayonetta were mere children when the Clan Wars occurred!" they fired back, dropping into a defensive stance. "They are innocent in all of this!"

"Jeanne was the daughter of the one who consigned my wife to death," he snarled. "She is hardly innocent."

The tension was beginning to rise. Before either of them could act upon it, a voice cut through everything:

"You held yourself against her estimations. Impressive."

Both Balder and Hope turned towards the darkness. He could make out the shadowy figure once again, and a small gasp from the Angel reassured him that they could see them too.

"Her estimations?" Hope was the first to respond.

"I do not particularly care who she is, shadow," Balder cut across both of them before the figure had a chance to answer. He pointed his glaive at them and growled "but you have been watching me for the last half an hour, if not more. Show yourself, or I will make you."

"Balder, Balder…" the figure shook their head. Footsteps echoed throughout the library and they finally stepped into the light. "What would be the fun in that? I am here to test you, not to play at socialising. But I suppose that, again, you have surpassed her expectations, much to her dismay; I must play a part that was regarded as unnecessary."

The figure was clad in black formalwear from head to toe. Balder did not recognise the fabric nor the style, but it vaguely resembled the clothing he himself had had to wear to official Sage gatherings. His hands were ungloved, showing off sickly pale skin. His head was the same hue, and was completely hairless; an ugly red scar covered the left side of his face as the only real distinguishable feature. His eyes were clouded by darkness, but glowed a piercing red and green all the same.

Heterochromatia. That was a rarity.

"You!?" Hope exclaimed in recognition. "You can't be here; you died!"

"Don't you remember how Devils and Angels work, my dear Laguna? You kill us here, in this mortal realm, we just go back to our home and reform." The man's lips curled, as if in distaste. "Everyone believes I perished on that fateful night nearly twenty years ago. But here I stand before you all, as corporeal and as real as can be."

Balder narrowed his eyes and peered at the man, scrutinizing him. He had assumed him a mortal, but now…

The stench of Demon was impossible to miss. It was overwhelming and sunk into every pore, suffocating him with its intensity. Balder withdrew his senses and coughed reflexively.

"The mistress found and gave me new purpose, returning my form to me well ahead of schedule. And now she has found… people of interest. I am here to determine whether or not you are worthy of her attention."

"Who is your mistress?" Balder asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" came the immediate reply. The curl of his lips became humoured with a cruel upturn. "And as for my assessment, you both exhibit no reason for her to become enamoured with you. You may be powerful, perhaps even strong enough to pose a threat to her, but you are both lambs, being shepherded right into the slaughter. You both have little idea of what you are truly dealing with."

"What do you mean?"

"Enough riddles, Demon!" Balder growled. Both advanced upon the figure, but he did not back down. If anything, he spread his arms out slightly as if to welcome them. "Speak the truth; who are you, and why are you here!?"

"Must I repeat myself?" The man smirked, raising his arms. The burn seemed to move by itself, crawling and rippling all over his face. "Wouldn't you like to know."

Hope was the first to lunge. The man merely faded away and disappeared from sight, leaving the Joy to tackle nothing but air. Balder instantly turned around, covering their rear and tried to find a glimpse of the man.

I have other matters to attend to. We will never have cause to meet again.

And with those words of finality, the presence and stench of Inferno receded, leaving the pair standing in a ruined library.

Balder relaxed himself and faced the Joy. "Just who was that?"

"That was-"

Something collided with the back of his head and Balder immediately fell into the realm of Morpheus.

…

The metallic clang echoed throughout the library, followed by the painful smack of flesh on stone. Hope stood staring at Balder's crumpled body, their thoughts racing. Their gaze rose to settle on the mortal and their mouth fell agape.

"Luka!" they exclaimed after reapplying the translation spell. "Why did you-"

"Hey, if you hadn't noticed, that's fucking Balder!" Luka clutched the silver bollard tightly with both hands, his entire body trembling with adrenaline. "He ruined all of our fucking lives-"

"Luka, calm down." The Joy closed the distance between the pair and gently grabbed the bollard. "Something is wrong-"

"Something is wrong? You know what's wrong? Me and you not killing this asshole right now!" He wrenched the weapon back and set his sights on the unconscious man. "He killed my father, and he was only one of millions that he's murdered! He's ruined countless lives! How could anything be possibly wrong!?"

Hope reflected on Luka's rage with pursed lips. They did not blame him for his anger; it was fully justified and, given any other circumstance, they would have moved aside for him to claim his rightful vengeance.

But that was the key word; rightful.

They had never told Cereza or Damien that they knew Balder from before. As far as they knew, Balder had always been a power-hungry maniac who had ruined their lives. But from that brief, five-minute interaction before all of the Onythylls lost their secluded, peaceful life to imprisonment, Hope came to know one thing at the very least: Balder did care for his family, or at least he had at one point.

This was that Balder.

There had been no lie in their words to the Sage earlier; once they learned of the farce of a trial that had occurred in both the Crescent and Sunrise Valleys, both themself and their sisters had attempted to find him. But whatever the Lumen had done to their former champion, they could not find him. Even the power of the Eye of the World was suppressed and only reappeared along with Balder four years later.

That Balder had instantly turned to Paradiso and started corrupting everything and everyone within earshot, a far cry from the man they had observed. Something had changed.

"Luka, we know that you are angry and frustrated and we understand that," they started, reaching out to the bollard again. "But you need to calm down and listen to us for just a minute. That's all we ask for."

"I… God! I fucking hate him! Why are you defending him?"

"Because he changed. We knew him, when he lived with his family. He loved them-" they tried.

Luka cut her off with a scoff. "Yeah, right! He admitted to Bayonetta that he literally only used her mother to create a child of light and dark. If that's love, then the asshole deserves everything he gets!"

"Luka, please! Listen to us! Just… put down the bollard and we will try to explain," they begged. A tense moment passed, and they were afraid that they would need to take action. Fortunately, Luka swallowed and hurled the bollard down to collide hard against the stone with a loud 'clunk'.

"Then talk. You know if Bayonetta or Damien were here, they would have killed him by now!"

Hope swallowed, then pressed on with a nod. "We met with Balder and warned him that the Lumen and Umbra knew about him, his relationship and his child. We could not interfere, but after the trials that sealed all three of their fates, we tried to find him. Four years later, he resurfaced and began to corrupt Paradiso."

Luka lowered his head, processing the information. "So?"

That was a response designed to infuriate them. Hope did not rise to the bait: "What happened in those four years?"

The man did not answer, as he could not have. He instead swallowed and waited for them to continue.

They gestured to the body on the ground. "This man obviously has not had any thoughts about creating another child of light and dark. He seemed confused when we accused him-"

"I literally repeated to him what his… older self told us and he got pissed." Luka interrupted, turning to look at the fallen Sage. "Then he told me his daughter is dead."

It all clicked. "Oh no…"

"Oh no? 'Oh no' what?"

The only reason Balder would assume his daughter was dead was because someone told him so. The only reason Balder would be targeting them was because that same someone had told him that Bayonetta was responsible. Hope was willing to bet this was the same person who had told the Lumen that a child of light and dark existed. The one person who had been playing chess for seemingly over five hundred years with everyone's lives and had always been several moves ahead.

The Prophet, or Loptr as it was increasingly looking like, had gotten to Balder.

They turned to Luka and pointed to the door. "We need to get to Cereza and warn her. Is that connection with Damien still there?"

"It should be- what the fuck? It's gone!" He instantly pointed an accusing finger at the Sage. "It's him! He did it! For fuck's sake, I knew he-"

"Balder would not know what to look for," they briefly glanced around, finding nothing but more ruins in the library. "There's more to this puzzle than meets the eye."

"Fine. But the second he proves himself as nothing more than a A-tier asshole, I'm going to make sure Bayonetta or Damien skewer him," Luka promised, glancing at them with fire in his eyes. "And I'll be the first to say 'I told you so' in regards to sparing him right now."

"You would be justified," Hope agreed, crouching down to flip Balder onto his back. Blood poured from the wound on the back his head, but they placed their hand on his cheeks. The flesh and skin knitted itself together with their healing spell, and they let his breathing even out before leaving him be. "But we hope it doesn't come to that."

…

The dimly lit classroom felt Umbran.

Balder knew he was being facetious. He had only been in Vigrid, capital of the Witches, for a scant couple of hours, but the alien atmosphere and sensations that constantly washed over him had to be those of the Umbra. They were nothing like the familiarity of the roaring cathedrals or humbleness of the churches; arrogance and excess seeped into these walls, decadent as they were vain. He stared at the closest wall with a scrutinizing gaze, trying to perceive anything.

You are in the closest thing to the realm of Demons, Balder, he reminded himself. Logically speaking, it would feel like them.

A soft tutting drew his attention across to their tutor and a strict voice followed: "Are the walls so interesting, boy?"

Balder had a brief moment where he thought he would lie, but it went against everything that had been driven into him since birth. "Yes, Madame Le Fay. They are much different to what I am used to at home."

The tall, blonde witch folded her arms beneath her feathery cape, tilting her head slightly. Her hair, stylised into four hornlike-trails, swayed with the movement, settling back down gracefully after a few seconds. The gap of silence was filled with snickers and chuckles from the other trainees and acolytes, causing a blush to spread across his cheeks. Still, he did not look down to hide his weakness, and continued to meet her gaze.

"Different how?" Her voice had become softer.

"I… I can't explain it. But I can feel them," he muttered, each word sounding more ridiculous than the last. "Just how I can feel you and your power."

The Witch raised an eyebrow at that. "Interesting. To those who laughed, did you not feel the same?"

Muttered 'nos' and awkward shuffling answered her. Madame Le Fay shifted on the arch of her heels and settled her gaze on Norik. "You there. Tell me, what do you sense in these walls?"

"Warding enchantments," his friend answered after a second. "After all, we are meant to be learning combat here. Balder is a little weird at times, so it makes sense to me that he's-"

"Incorrect. You there," she pointed to a Witch. Balder was morbidly curious about his friend's expression, but kept his attention on the tutor. "What do you feel?"

A moment passed and a sigh of despair followed. "I apologise Madame, but I feel nothing."

"Good. You were not supposed to." Le Fay unfolded her arms and walked over to the nearby wall, placing one gloved hand on it. "Normally, this entire building is warded against Paradiso; to be specific, the entire Sunset Valley is. I made sure to remove these for this session."

Her gaze found Balder's, and the young man felt her grey eyes penetrate straight through him. There was no magic involved, but he could sense that she was reading everything about him in one, fell swoop. "Normally, we start by obtaining you all a contract before even thinking about moving to basic combat training. But if you can sense these walls, maybe you need to obtain a contract before your contract obtains you."

He broke the impromptu staring contest and stared down with shame.

"Why so glum? Onythyll, there is not a reason to feel that way. You merely have more innate abilities than most, which is nothing to be ashamed of." A light, teasing smile graced her lips. "And besides, I have no idea how Lagunan contracts work. I will not assume that you are any immediate danger, but it would be very helpful for me to be aware of any potential incursions that may occur inadvertently."

Oh.

"But that brings me back to my initial point for being here; basic combat and magic. As I just stated, normally the process can be expedited with successful formation of a contract. However, both myself and Father Mathias believe that appropriate instruction for you all should begin with the basics of the basics. Elemental magic-" she clicked her fingers and an orb of water formed above them, shimmering and refracting in the light, "-is something that we all should know. It is the core root of the tree of magic; everything you learn, whether it be light or dark for Sage or Witch respectively, stems from it. Now, who can tell me the five elements?"

"Earth, fire, wind and water!" a Witch cried out immediately.

"Three of those four are correct, Miss De'Arc," Madame Le Fay turned to the red-clad acolyte. "But I asked for five."

"Isn't it lightning instead of earth?" a trainee asked from his left.

"Correct. But that is only four of the five; what is the other one?" Madame Le Fay waited half a minute for any response. None came. "Soul. Each of the five elements cannot be broken down further; any attempt would just reduce the amount."

"Pah! Isn't there documented evidence that we can break down water?" Norik questioned with a confident smirk.

"The physical elements differ massively to the elements of magics. Water is used for the basis to heal," one hand raised and began to glow green, "and combined with fire it can be used to destroy."

The glow faded and a sharpened ice crystal formed above her palm. She thrust it out and the missile flew right beside Norik's head. His friend shrieked and ducked his head on reflex, much to the amusement of the Umbran acolytes. "I wish not to make an example of you, boy, but your tone is very disrespectful."

Norik would never attempt to make amends; Balder knew he had to say something. "My apologies for Norik's behaviour, Mada-"

"Do not apologise, Onythyll. His words and actions are his to bear." She smiled, retracting her hand and clasping them both in front of her. Her voice changed tone as she turned her attention to one of the Umbra; "Florecer!"

One of the Witches moved forward in response. Balder recognised her friend, who was dressed in red, as De'Arc from before. His gaze followed her movements and his throat constricted with a reflexive swallow. Each step was lighter than snow and more graceful than a cat, accentuated by her long legs. Her clothing hugged her body, flaring out only at her sleeves and ankles. There was a sight sway-

And that was when he forced himself to look well away from her. She was a Witch-to-be, and he was a Sage-to-be; he would not let himself be distracted by such… carnal desires.

"Yes, Madame?" Her voice was sweeter than-

Balder nearly slapped himself.

"You were the highest ranked in the initial trials. Onythyll was recommended by Matthias as someone to keep an eye on. I would like you two to work together."

Florecer turned around, her gaze finding his. Grey eyes, teasing and full of mirth, were the only visible feature on her head. Her mouth and lower face were covered with a tightly-woven cloth that wrapped around like a mask. Her hair was hidden behind a tall hat, woven with the same black cloth as her suit. Butterfly glasses framed those bright eyes, made with black steel, speckled with red and silver that glinted in the flickering candlelight.

"Me and you?" Her voice was inflected with humour. Her eyes didn't leave him, but she turned towards their tutor. "Are you sure, Madame? He looks like a scholar, not a warrior."

"Step forward, Onythyll." Le Fay ignored her and began to shepherd the rest of the students towards the walls. They obliged and left the three standing in the centre of the room; Florecer was bemused, Le Fay was ambivalent.

Balder was terrified. He had not received formal combat training in his brief time at the Lumen before being transferred here. All he could do at this moment was summon small wards to defend himself. This coming sparring session would be nothing more than slaughter.

"Hmph. You want me to fight this runt?" Florecer smirked, placing her hands on her hips. "You know this is just a waste of both of our times. What would we even learn from this?"

Was it truly arrogance if she was right? Balder asked himself.

"What you can learn, Rosa, is humility. You may be gifted, but you have had no formal training, just like him," their tutor answered. "If you are so powerful, then this should be a… what do they say, now? Walk in the park?"

"I question why you would pit a scholar against a warrior-"

"May I speak plainly, Madame?" he interrupted.

"You may," came the reply.

Balder hesitated, then bowed his head. "If you are to teach us combat, why trial by fire? Would it not make sense to begin with the basics?"

A soft chuckle was her answer. Madame Le Fay folded her arms and took a few steps backwards. "I cannot teach without a baseline, Balder. Knowing is half of the battle."

She clapped her hands and two sticks appeared in front of both himself and Florecer. Balder snatched the training weapon instinctively and held it with both hands. Then he stood there awkwardly, terrified of what the Witch opposite him could do.

Rosa did not copy his actions; she merely snorted and slowly pulled the weapon from the telekinetic field holding it aloft. Placing one hand on her hip, she lowered the stick and held it in a fencer's stance. Confident. Arrogant.

"Come on; let's dance, boy."

She rushed forward, thrusting at him. Balder yelped and parried wildly, throwing the girl off-balance and causing her to fall. The result surprised him, and then he understood why.

Rosa was arrogant. Not skilled, only arrogant. She was all show.

She looked up, recovering and getting back to her feet. Gone was the humour from her eyes; now she was furious. That fury coiled through her body and then expelled with a cat-like hiss. Balder took a step backwards, now completely unsure of what to do. He didn't want to make the Witch angrier and risk becoming injured in a simple training exercise, but he knew that logically now was the best time to strike and end this before it escalated further. Looking over to Madame Le Fay, he tried to read her expression for any help or aid.

She only watched intently. There would be no answers from her.

A howl brought his attention back to Rosa. She was swinging wildly, uncoordinated and extremely ungraceful. The trainee Sage attempted to block some of the strikes, but then thought better of it and simply began to flee. He could hear the laughter from the crowd around him and the embarrassment did burn, but what else was he supposed to do?

Magic.

Balder formed an orb of light and tossed it behind him blindly. A sound that he thought was not be possible burst from behind; the sound of Witch Time.

Evidently, he was not the only one with abilities.

Rosa appeared in front of him and drove her stick straight into his stomach. All air was driven from his body and he fell forward, onto the trainee. She shoved him off and he felt his body slam against the ground awkwardly. Another strike hit his stomach, drawing a pained cry from his throat. A third strike hit his nose and blood spurted onto the stone in front of him.

"ENOUGH!"

The roar halted all movement and the only sounds were Balder's whimpers and Rosa's exerted breath. He began to curl into a ball, reaching up to try and stymie the blood flow. A pair of heels clacked across the room and then a meaty smack rang out.

"What in the blazes are you doing!?"

"He embarrassed me!" came the outraged cry.

"You are embarrassing the Umbran clan and yourself!" Madame Le Fay replied. "Get out of my way. Now."

A soothing hand was placed onto his shoulder and warmth spread throughout him. Balder's nose reknitted itself back together and his tenderised flesh stopped throbbing.

"Stand up." Le Fays' voice was not attempting to be kind or gentle. The Witch was furious, but Balder understood it was not directed at him. He followed her instructions and scrambled up, standing with his head bowed.

"Your arrogance, Florecer, has caused this. We are meant to be learning; what did you learn?" she snapped, keeping her gaze firmly on Rosa. The Witch was rubbing at a pink bruise on her cheek, her eyes burning with indignation. "Nothing! You have some powerful, innate abilities that most Witches don't even learn yet until they are well into their third century; in what way is using them to… assault a defenceless boy appropriate?"

He glanced across to see Rosa bristling with anger. For a brief second his thoughts turned to pity and he addressed their tutor for her; "In a real fight you take whatever openings you can get. Do not blame her, Madame; she was only doing what she deemed necessary."

Le Fay blinked, taken aback. Her mouth opened, then closed into a thin line. "Onythyll, she took advantage of the fact you are a novice in every aspect. My intent was to pit you both against each other so I could gauge what you knew; cruelty is not that."

"Then let us battle again," Florecer said, stepping forward. "If you want a fair test, then we won't use magic."

She turned to him, her eye studying him with a critical gaze. It closed with a wink. "And I won't lose."

A long sigh filled the gap. "I don't trust this, Florecer. But I don't believe I can convince you otherwise. Are you fine with sparring again, Onythyll?"

Balder swallowed, unsure of whether or not he should accept. "I-"

"Or would you be branded a coward before the Umbra?" Rosa faced him, smirking arrogantly. "Go on; kneel before Mummy and beg for mercy."

He marched over to his fallen stick and grabbed it, manoeuvring it until it was held low in a two-handed grip. Balder set his mouth in a determined line and directed its tip at her.

"So you want me to make you beg?" Rosa laughed, twirling her own weapon in her fingers. "This will be fun!"

A tense moment passed as their tutor walked back to the group. "Begin."

Rosa lunged forward and Balder parried with a swipe of his weapon. The Witch spun with the momentum this time, utilising it to perform a swipe of her own. He brought his stick down and they clashed with a cracking of wood and splinters. The pair stayed locked together, each trying to eke out an advantage.

The Witch was the first to break away, twisting and bouncing back to create space. Balder did not give chase and merely lowered his weapon back into what he thought was a defensive stance. She landed in a slight crouch, only to return to her arrogant, one-handed fencer stance. Her head tilted slightly and her lips pursed.

With great speed she raised her stick and brought it down, attempting to break the weapon over his head. Balder stepped to the side and blocked the follow-up flick with a rigid swipe.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

The sticks clashed three more times before they became interlocked once more; each time, Rosa was the aggressor. Balder continued to stay on the defensive, trying to think. It was hard to learn combat. Each time he tried to dedicate his focus towards getting an advantage, it was taken away by needing to block the strikes that were aimed for his head.

He supposed the training they would receive would give them some sort of combat instincts that made this whole 'block and attack' second-nature for them. But at the same time, Balder felt that this was almost impossible to learn. There was just so much going on!

CRACK!

Their sword-sticks connected together once more, this time with Rosa bearing down on him with all her weight. Balder buckled slightly, but held firm. She was above him, gritting her teeth and exerting heavily.

She was tiring! That was the key!

A glance down at her legs showed that she was perched on her heels awkwardly. A good kick to her ankles would definitely cause them to buckle and the body would go tumbling after. Balder did not want to potentially break her ankles, magical healing or not, so he opted to sneak one of his boot-cladded feet around her footwear and pull backwards.

It worked spectacularly. Rosa tumbled to the ground, her weapon falling from her grip and her arms flailing wildly. Balder retreated and let her body hit the floor, before tapping his stick on her backside to signify he had won.

"Enough."

Balder relaxed and held his weapon down, letting out a well-deserved exhale. His limbs ached, his fingers tingled from the repeated jolts they had experienced, but he felt pride. He had won, with no training, against someone with a small amount of training.

Logic said that meant they were of the same skill, but he allowed the feeling.

A hush had fallen upon the audience. There had been no noises from them in the brief skirmish, but now he could tell it wasn't a respective or awed silence. It was unsettling.

"I lost!?"

Rosa was incensed. She scrambled over to her fallen weapon and grabbed it, only to hurl it at the ground. Balder dropped his own and moved over, holding one hand out.

"Rosa." The name slipped from his tongue like water in a stream. Natural. Fitting.

Her head whipped around; eyes ablaze with fury. She took one look at his outstretched hand and slapped it away with all of her might.

…

The first sensation Balder became aware of once he rose from the grogginess of remembrance was a throbbing sensation in the back of his skull. He didn't open his eyes just yet. Instead, his thoughts drifted to the memory that had just played out; the first meeting between himself and Rosa.

She had been an arrogant woman. Rosa had told him later that her ego had been fed by thousands of mouths of adulation, each one telling her that she was going to be the best; she was going to be the strongest Umbra Witch ever. While they weren't wrong in their assumptions, it was still a poison that shaped her perception. His tactical defeat of her in their second spar had turned the arrogance into hatred; Madame Le Fay had paired the two together and she had shown him nothing but scorn.

It had taken decades for them to become amicable. He remembered how she had taken a full minute to confess she did not hate him and then the five, agonising minutes more that she thought of him as a friend. That drew a faint smile to his lips.

His eyes opened to a dark ceiling and ruined bookcases.

Sitting up, Balder rubbed the back of his head with one hand and groaned. A glint of silver in the candlelight drew his gaze to a curiously shaped object on the ground. He reached out and lifted it up, raising an eyebrow at its weight. Whatever it was, it was probably what caused him to fall unconscious.

He tossed it away and quickly gathered information around his surroundings. There was no sign of Hope and he could not sense Luka in any of the rooms of the library. They must have left long ago; his gaze found the candles and he noticed they had not melted further than he had expected.

That still did not allay his fears that he had been unconscious for hours and hours upon end. Candle technology may have been improved massively in the last five hundred years, for all Balder knew.

Loptr? He cautiously asked into the void of silence.

The reply was instantaneous; 'Where have you been?'

How long have I been silent for?

Loptr sighed. 'A little over five minutes. Why haven't you delivered Bayonetta and Loki to me yet?'

Balder was about to answer truthfully until he remembered Hope's words. He knew it was idiotic of him to even entertain the lies the Angel had spoken and disregard the benefactor that brought him here, but he remembered one, single truth that all Angels followed.

They could not lie. Misrepresent, partialize, but not an outright falsification. The words Hope spoke were spoken from the heart, as if they were completely true to them.

I was ambushed and left for dead. I only just returned to consciousness a few seconds ago.

'Hmph. I thought you were much stronger than that. If you are looking to get back on track, the one you are seeking vengeance on is approaching the Cathedral of Cascades. I'll slow them down so you have a chance to… catch up.'

The way Loptr phrased that was… disconcerting. Balder had not told him anything about his location, nor that he had lost track of Bayonetta and her companions, yet he had correctly guessed the Sage had lost them.

Guessed was not an appropriate word. Loptr knew.

'It would be best if you started moving, Balder.' Loptr continued, the statement holding finality. 'I cannot delay them forever.'

The presence of the being receded from his mind and Balder was left unsettled and alone. Standing up, he cast his senses out. The presence of Demons and a Witch met him, along with the lingering aura of Divinity. The Angels he could not place, but the Demon and the Witch were definitely known to him; Scolopendra and Bayonetta.

It seemed that a battle was taking place.

…

It didn't take long to find them. Scolopendra had raised a barrier that glowed an alien red against the whites and blues of Noatun, and Balder simply traversed the rooftops until he found a perch to observe the proceedings in front of him. It was rather calming, in a sense, to watch-

What was he actually looking at? Bayonetta looked like a mixture between a Centauri of myth and Diomedes of Inferno. That was no power he had ever seen before. She was challenging a group of five beings that he recognised as Laguna, but did not at the same time. They both seemed… artificial. Fake. False.

The brother was the one facing off against the Demon. Balder ignored him for now; he seemed to be struggling and was not particularly interesting.

He could attribute the false Demonic scent from a logical thought that Bayonetta was imbuing herself with their power for some form of boost. It was actually something Rosa had once mentioned that was theorised before she left the Umbra; perhaps Bayonetta had uncovered something that allowed her to bring theory to practicality.

Before his thoughts could tangent elsewhere, Scolopendra exploded.

Balder's gaze left Bayonetta instantly to look at what he could only describe as a pure Demon. Black tendrils flowed from its head to float around five outstretched wings; one was covered in feathers, whereas the other four were leathery and bat-like in appearance. His eyes were now bulbous orbs of horrible yellow, and his body was replaced with inky-black darkness.

Bayonetta seemed to be apprehensive and almost fearful of what her brother had become. Balder leaned forward, staying hidden atop the roofs, feeling anticipation build.

A primal roar erupted from the Demon's throat and they charged forward, aiming themself at their sister. The sight filled him with both dread and hope; Balder believed he understood enough about the man to know he wouldn't attack his sister while sound of mind, but the idea of an ally in the making was very tempting.

The pair battled in a brief, fast-paced skirmish to begin with. After forcing them back with a headbutt, Bayonetta spread out a pair of her arms – Balder had now just noticed she had two pairs of arms and four pairs of legs – and spoke in Enochian; her voice was strained with emotion and the words were whispered, but Balder heard them all the same.

"I do not wish to hurt you, brother. Please, it is up to you to make this madness stop!"

Damien did not back down; if anything, he began to circle around her like a wolf before its prey. The words, meant to calm, had done nothing but agitate him further. Balder questioned the purpose, or whether or not the Witch was particularly smart, but then he remembered one of the first lessons that he had been taught for combat was to fight calmly.

The words were very deliberate.

The pair jumped back at each other, both of their weapons raised and poised to strike. Before they could meet, something green burst out from the Demon's chest and erupted into an explosion of the same colour. Balder shielded his eyes with one arm, then lowered it to a sight he never expected to see again.

Madama Khepri.

…

The house was a slow, arduous build. Balder had no idea how to construct anything, let alone a habitable home, but Rosa had known. Somehow. He didn't question it at first, but as the days went by she somehow, someway, knew the answer to every possible problem they ran into.

He brought it up on the night they had finished, while they were sat at the small table in the 'dining' room. Rosa sat across from him, hair down and mask off, her lips curled into a soft, contented smile, and Balder questioned himself before he said anything.

"Rosa?"

Her radiance turned to him, dazzling and disarming. "Yes?"

"How did you know?" he asked, noticing that he was going straight to bluntness once again.

"Of what? You will need to be a little more specific."

"To build. To construct. We aren't taught skills like this," he gestured to the house around them.

Her eyes turned mischievous. "What if I said we were? And you didn't pay attention?"

"That would be impossible." He smiled. It wasn't that long ago that those kinds of innocuous comments would upset and insult him, but Balder had learned that it was a form of affection from some people. "I would remember it."

"Correct. But I have had some… extra-curriculars with my patron recently. I asked her the viability of building this ourselves and not only did she insist that it was possible, she gave me the tools to do so." Rosa leaned backwards on her chair slightly, stretching out her legs and toes. "And here we have the results of that."

"Is your patron the Demon of construction?" he asked the obvious question.

"Oh, Gods no. She would be insulted if you implied that was the case." Rosa stopped stretching and leaned forward. "Do you want to meet her? She's been dying to meet you."

"Dying to meet me? I am just-"

A finger stopped his lips from moving. "You are the wielder of the Right Eye and are one of the most impressive Sages of all time. Of course she would be interested."

Balder shook his head. "I'm fairly certain the second reason is just your opinion."

Rich laughter filled the silences between the crackles of the fire. "You do have me there. But she is interested."

"Then summon her, if you so desire."

Rosa pushed her chair back and nimbly stepped towards the centre of the room. She ran her fingers through her hair, resettling it back in waves down her back. Before she began to summon, she turned to him with a grin. "You'll like the view, darling."

Before he could even start piecing together what she meant by that, she twirled on one foot and struck a pose, her clothes flying off and forming into a weave that pierced into a portal to Inferno. Balder caught a glimpse of one bare breast and buttock before covering his eyes and keeping her modesty sacred.

(A voice inside of him reflected that if she did not want him to look, she would have requested it.)

"PDEE BARMA!"

Another portal erupted behind him, and then closed after a few seconds. The stench of Inferno lingered, but then dissipated into a homely, welcoming scent. Balder frowned; no Demon he knew wanted to be welcoming. Every skirmish he had encountered and his very brief meetings with the Demon Sparda always carried the same sensation of despair, disgust and unwantedness.

A hand tapped on his shoulder with a giggle. "You know I want you to look, Balder. But you can open your eyes now."

And he opened them to not just his wife, but a green-skinned woman with kind eyes as well.

"Rise, my champion," she murmured. "The Master of the Heavens."

…

He didn't know how to feel.

Madama Khepri had acted like a mother to both of them, and even kept watch over Cereza when she was too young to be left alone. There wasn't a moment where she wasn't doting upon them, and despite the paranoia that a Demon was doing all of this, both he and Rosa trusted her completely.

But here she was, consorting with the person who murdered both of them.

Balder tried to rationalize it. Why would she? Was this event something she was obligated to take part in? Clairvoyancy was-

She foresaw their deaths.

She had to. Khepri could see the future.

She had foreseen their deaths and done nothing to stop it.

Rage threatened to overwhelm him and Balder struggled against its tide. He wanted to scream, to shout and expel the emotions, but he needed to stay rational. To stay calm. Why would she have done this? There had to be a reason.

Or maybe both Rosa and himself were played for fools. Khepri had simply extracted what she wanted, Rosa's soul, and moved onto her next victim.

He took a glance back over the wall to see Loki, Bayonetta and Khepri talking, with the former holding an unconscious Damien. The Madama looked extremely uncomfortable, whereas Bayonetta was very agitated.

"That means you can tell me. I can deal with whatever it is! Please, Khepri; I beg of you. Tell me."

Balder knew for certainty now. Khepri was a liar.

"Miss, why don't you want to tell us? Will it affect us?" Loki asked, his voice both certain and completely unsure.

"Of course, it will. Every action has a consequence; you both should know this," Khepri answered with a slightly exasperated tone. "I'm not holding onto this information because I want to."

Liar.

Loki pondered that for a few seconds, then nodded. "Is there a future where he doesn't go on a path towards this… non-existence?"

"Every future I've viewed leads to the same choice. And every time he chooses what will lead to his own annihilation."

Liar.

"I don't know the context."

Liar.

"I don't even know what the choice is!"

Liar.

"All I know is that he takes it."

LIAR!

He could kill them all right now. They were too focused on themselves and not their surroundings. Sloppy. Unfit to be even referred to in the same breath as his wife. A spell cast directly at them would be unnoticed until they were nothing more than ash.

But then Bayonetta raised her head and he could make out faint lines trailing down from her eyes. Wet lines that glistened under the strange light from the lamp opposite him. "Can you please tell us when? Please. I need to know how much time I have left."

It just didn't make sense! Loki was the mastermind, not Khepri! Bayonetta was a heartless murderer, not some caring fool. What did- why did-

He missed Khepri's reply, but not Bayonetta's reaction. She was staring at the Demon in complete disbelief with dread building in her eyes. Her mouth quivered, like it was trying to say something, but completely unable to form any words. Swallowing, she closed her eyes and walked away.

"Bayonetta?" Loki called after her and attempted to follow, but one hand from Khepri stopped him. Balder eyes did not and he watched the Witch wander over to a bench and sit down, her head falling into her hands in a defeated pose.

"Let her be. She needs to digest this."

"We're on a time limit, remember? Her friend is dying in Inferno and all we are doing is nothing-"

Khepri's sharp voice cracked over him. "Must I remind you who asked for this information? I apologise if it was not what she wanted to hear at this moment, but she insisted."

Loki folded his arms and gave her an irritated look. "You know, for someone who says they care you have very little tact in addressing others. Is there a reason you have to be so blunt?"

"Do not assume anything about me, Aesir. You have no idea what I will have to sacrifice for this."

He had never heard Khepri so emotional or so angry. She stalked over to a separate bench and gently placed the man in her arms onto it. "Every single passing moment I've dreaded this day. I don't know why he never told anyone, but I specifically told him about it when he asked. I suppose it either slipped his mind or he didn't want to burden others."

"But what about you?" Loki asked. "I've known you for about three minutes and already you've been hiding big secrets from some of your closest allies."

"Friends," she firmly said. "They are my friends. And I don't tell them these 'secrets' all the time because some are best left for them to discover. Or –" she held one finger up "– it's vital that they don't know."

"If you say so. What's the plan?" Loki asked.

"You should either check on Bayonetta or try to use that remembrance powers of yours to do something about this cathedral," she answered. "By the time either is done, Damien should have woken up."

The boy turned and walked towards Bayonetta, not bothering to look back at the Demon. "You're going to do something about him?"

"No. I have something I'd like to look at."

The way she phrased that was odd. The Sage frowned and watched her intently, trying to decipher what she meant. Seven seconds passed, with no real answers – then she turned and looked directly at Balder.

Khepri's lips parted into a smile.

Balder gasped and fell back, his hands finding grips on the roof beneath him. It was not possible. There was no way she had noticed him. There was-

"Hello, Balder."

His glaive appeared in a flash and he tried to put some distance between himself and the Demon. She was leaning against some sort of ventilation shaft that hummed constantly. Her red eyes seemed to be glinting with nostalgia and sadness.

"How did you find me?" he asked, keeping a defensive stance.

"Put that thing down. I'm here to talk, not fight." Khepri stood up and walked towards him, her hands held out in a peaceful gesture. Balder retreated to maintain that distance and her expression became hurt. "Balder, I knew you-"

"I thought I knew you. I thought you were a friend, not a foe, and here you are fraternizing with that monster!"

She blinked. "What?"

"Is she your latest pawn, one that you'll use and abuse until she cannot?" he accused, watching her expression fall further and further. "Just like you did to my Rosa?"

"What in the nine circles are you talking about?"

"You knew Rosa was going to die! And you let it happen. You treated us like family, and you-"

The abrupt stillness in her figure made him pause. Her gaze had fallen to stare at the floor in an attempt to avoid his own. He knew what she was feeling.

Guilt.

"You knew." The words were spoken with absolute certainty. A semblance of a tremble laced through his voice, something that he tried to supress.

"I did."

His world shattered again. A sob erupted from his throat and he almost threw his glaive down in anger. Swallowing, trying to keep his centre from spilling off into the deep abyss of despair, Balder kept his ground. "You… All of what you did… All of that advice… Was it all just to feed the lambs to slaughter?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Then why did you let it happen!? Why didn't you warn us that our actions were going to lead to their deaths!?"

Khepri looked up, her eyes beginning to burn. A strange, golden tinge was beginning to run through them, reminding Balder of the fire he wielded. "Did you think I just let it happen? Do you even know how Rosa died?"

"Bayonetta murdered her, then Cereza. Must you be reminded?"

"That's not- did you say Cereza is dead?" Khepri just stared at him, the fire dying down. "Do you even realise what you are saying?"

"I mean every word I say, foul demon," he spat out. "The truth was given to me by the Prophet Loptr; his words are yet to be proven wrong. And you! You are a liar. Why should I even be entertaining you?"

"Because you are my friend-"

"You forfeited the right to address me like that when you ruined my life."

"Balder, this is madness! Listen to yourself! I did not-"

"Silence!" Balder pointed his glaive directly at her, replacing his mask onto his face. His hood followed and he began to channel his power. "You do not belong here and I will banish you from this world forever!"

The Madama closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. "Then you have chosen madness. I do not wish to fight you, Balder, but you are seemingly indiscriminate from your future self."

A long, curved sword – an odachi, to be precise – appeared in her hand with a flash of red fire. Khepri brought it to her side, held point down, and placed one hand on her hip. Baler recognised the stance and he knew it was meant to be infuriating.

That was Rosa's stance.

"I hope my contracted doesn't mind me borrowing this, but be warned, Balder; one touch from this weapon and your soul shall be taken," she said, beginning to stalk towards him. "This is your last chance; do not challenge me."

Balder rushed forward, splitting his glaive into two. He tossed the left at her head and swung the left low at her ankles. A clash of steel informed him she had merely deflected the first and then the jarring 'clang!' when she blocked the second. Summoning back the deflected blade, he began to attack with a flurry of strikes. Left, right. Left. Left. Right. Right. Right. Right.

Khepri grunted in annoyance, but managed to deflect every single swing with a flick of her wrist. The odachi then struck out, and Balder was forced to defend himself with a parry; as much as he didn't trust the Demon, he did not want to find out if her words were true.

She followed up with two overhead slams that Balder avoided with a twirl. He rejoined the glaive and struck at Khepri's midsection with a feint, only to slam his head into hers. She stumbled backwards and he took advantage with a swipe that caught her in the stomach. The blade bit deep and pushed the Madama back.

"Doalim Cordziz!" came the pained hiss. She had doubled over with her left hand pressed against her side, the odachi falling limply by her side. "No wonder why Rosa gave up fencing. Perhaps this will work a little better!"

The wound on her stomach closed and healed before Balder could blink. Khepri stood up tall, her wings flaring out to amplify her presence. The sword remained by her side, but now it was gripped loosely with an air of confidence. Magic began to swirl around her free hand, sparking with arcs of lightning or bursting with the reds and oranges of fire.

Before Balder could adjust to this new-found confidence, Khepri disappeared.

His senses screamed at him and he turned to block a swing from the Demon. She immediately disengaged with a swipe at his toes, of which he played into her hands by also retreating back from. Khepri twirled and swung her odachi in a cross-like pattern. Shockwaves roared through the air and Balder attempted to parry the first blow that arrived.

The glaive being ripped from his fingers and his body being flung across the rooftops informed him that was a very, very bad idea.

Another shockwave slammed into his side, and he caught a glimpse of Khepri teleporting again before he was tossed to his left. The presence of Loki, Bayonetta and Damien were beginning to fade and Balder understood her intent; get him away. A fifth shockwave drove him back again and he began to formulate a plan.

Step one: get close.

Recovering with a kick off a nearby wall, Balder flung his palm out and implored upwards to the heavens.

"LEVA-"

Something covered his mouth and he could sense the Demon directly behind him. "Shhh… We don't want to wake those who need their rest."

As frustrating as this position was, Balder allowed himself a smile of triumph; she had played straight into his hand. Step one complete. Step two: get rid of the sword.

The glaive reappeared in his hand with a flash and he swung it with an upwards slash at where he envisioned her head to be. A clang of steel informed him he was not successful, but he used his momentum to flip him up and atop her shoulders. His legs wrapped around her neck in a chokehold – a move he had borrowed from Rosa – and he reached down with his free hand to grab the odachi by the blade.

It burned.

A scream erupted from his throat as he pulled his hand back, only for the odachi to come swinging at him. Balder swung his glaive to meet it in a parry of pure desperation. She was not lying about the potency of her blade; a scratch could prove more than fatal.

The blade did work as a fine distraction. Something grabbed the front of his robes and ripped him from his position atop her shoulders. Then he was flying through the air and landing on the rooftop in a sprawl. Balder returned back to his feet as fast he possibly could, turning to find Khepri leaping at him, her odachi held high. Splitting the glaive and placing it in an X formation, he held it up to meet her.

CLANG!

The force behind her swing jolted his entire being, but Balder did not falter. They stayed interlocked, their eyes meeting.

"I have to admit, this style of battle is very liberating," Khepri commented casually. "No rigidity? No rules? No guidelines? Maybe the Umbra should have never been taught battle properly."

"What?" He did not let down his guard. Khepri was very obviously trying to get him to relax and then seize the opportunity; Balder would not let that happen.

"My contracted just fights as his instincts let him. You should try it too, Balder."

"Who is your contracted?" Balder growled, his eyes darting over to the odachi for a second to analyse it. They widened once he realised that he recognised it. "That abomination of a man?"

"He is no abomination! That slur has no place here, anywhere or especially from your mouth!"

The sudden shift was an opening. Balder let a sly smile crack his composure and he slowly, deliberately, dragged his gaze back to Khepri. "He isn't? Then where is his humanity?"

Balder later reflected that he wasn't sure what he was expecting. The barb was meant to infuriate, to anger, to draw her into a state of rage so deep that she would become predictable. For anyone who had an emotional connection with another, this was how they normally reacted.

Instead, she froze. Pure terror and shock spread across her like a crack in glass, instantaneous and sudden. Khepri's grip slackened and the pressure she was exerting lessened. As much as Balder would have liked to question this, it was an opportunity and he would not let it go to waste.

Before he could capitalise, the shock disappeared. Her eyes turned yellow and a red aura started to emanate from her entire being, clouding and tinting his vision. His confidence faltered.

Her fury grew.

"You dare!? How could you possibly know!?"

A rush of wind blew him back and Balder braced himself against the rush. A small portal formed next to the Demon and she thrust her hand through it. A larger portal opened above him and he barely dodged the enlarged fist that rained down from it. He recognised it as something akin to a wicked weave; a technique only available to the strongest Umbra.

It seemed that those sparring sessions with Rosa was preparing him for this battle.

Another fist rained down and Balder flipped back to dodge it, then released a stream of pure time at the Demon. It had worked wonders against Hope; surely-

Khepri merely absorbed it, her eyes burning. "Did you really think you could weaponize time against the Mistress of Time? Not only are you insane, you are completely delusional!"

Fire enveloped the odachi and she rushed forward, roaring in Enochian. Balder watched her movements carefully, then parried her swing with one half of his glaive and thrust the other into her stomach.

Khepri's choked cry was the only sound above the crackle of the flame. Then that disappeared too and silence remained.

"Khepri…" Balder whispered. "Why?"

"Why what?" she returned, the odachi falling from her grip and clattering against the rooftop.

"Why didn't you warn us? Why do you play all of these games with all of these secrets? Are we nothing but-"

"Balder, even if I could save Rosa…"

The Madama pushed him away and Balder let himself retreat; this battle was over. Khepri was doubled over, her hands clutching at the blade embedded in her. Her eyes had returned to their natural red and that aura was gone.

"I have foreseen every possibility. I changed every combination of events, accounted for everything and Rosa always dies. And it is always by his hand."

"Loki's?" he snarled.

She shook her head. "The knowledge would destroy you."

That made no sense. Balder wracked his brain for a meaning behind those words; she had never outright said it wasn't Loki, but at the same time he could tell that those words did not refer to him. Then who was she referring to? What knowledge could possibly destroy him?

Khepri then straightened herself and ripped the blade from her stomach like a stick from a tree. Balder instantly readied himself to continue, but she tossed it back to him and folded her arms.

"As much as I like entertaining one of my favourite people, your weapon is naught but a pointy metal stick. If you wish to continue this absurd and pointless quest, you will need upgrades," she cooly said, her mouth twisting into a smirk. "My, I've forgotten how fun this is."

"What do you mean, upgrades?" he blurted out. His confidence had long faded; it was beginning to appear that he had never had any control over this situation.

"Use your imagination. But for now, please take care and please…" she bowed her head to him. He had no idea if it was in respect or fear. "Please look at events objectively before you do something you will regret."

And then she disappeared.

Balder turned back in the direction he had came from, then thought against it. He needed to talk to Loptr.

'You needed to speak with me?'

Speak and he shall arrive. Balder did not know what upgrades Khepri could possibly be referring to, but he had an idea. The scene of Bayonetta lying beneath him with a cut up her leg played though his mind. If she was any competent Umbra, then she would have healed it long before now.

But what if it never healed?

He shared his plan with Loptr. For a brief moment he thought his request was impossible, but his benefactor answered with glee.

'I thought you would never ask.'

My First Journal

Enemy Data

Hope

One of Uncle D's closest friends, and a very helpful confidant in Paradiso. They are the closest being you could label as a 'truly benign' Angel, but honestly they are the awesome other Aunt/Uncle that I've never had. They are really awesome! And cool! And kinda creepy. Not having eyes makes it hard to know what they're thinking, although those lips are very expressive.

Anyway, they fight like a mixture of Mummy and Aunty J. Which is a weird thing to say, because Mummy and Aunty J fight very similarly in the first place, but once you see them it makes sense? Maybe? Hope is very aggressive, like Mummy, but has a whole suite of weapons like Aunty. Grandfather, during his brief… thing with Loptr, fought them in an attempt to gain information about Mummy and Uncle D. He was successful, but it seems that his faith and resolve crumbled as he did. Did Hope… give him hope?

HA! I hope that Aunty J is reading this for my fantastic puns. I know she loves them!

First appearance: Bayonetta (2009)

Theme: Riders of the Light (EP solo version) – Bayonetta 3 (2022)

Dear Violetta,

Please stop making puns when you are meant to be writing reports on what you have experienced. And why have you put one of our friends in the ENEMIES section?

Jeanne De'Arc

Author's Note: Hope is the Joy that steals Cereza briefly in Paradiso in the original game.

Sin Scissors

Scissor-wielding servants of Mundus. Dante and the rest of the Devil May Cry crew have both fought these in the Mallet Island and during the Red Grave City incidents respectively. According to Aunt Trish these ghosty bois are 'supremely loyal' to Mundus and only Mundus, which makes any appearance by them outside of the former Primordius' whims very rare and OOC.

Grandfather fought a few with Hope during the Noatun incident. They seemingly were summoned and controlled by the MYSTERIOUS MAN who, at the time was very MYSTERIOUS. Ooh! Ahh! MYSTERIOUS!

Do do do do do dooooo (Dun-dun-dun da-da-da da-da-da da-da-da)

First appearance: Devil May Cry (2002)

Death Scythe

A Necron flying unit-

Shit. Wrong thing. Uhhh, a Death Scythe in Inferno is basically the upgrade to the Sin Scissors and act as their 'field commanders' to direct traffic in the heat of battle. They are almost zealot-like in their devotion to Mundus, so it's surprising that they allowed themselves to be ordered by another person.

They fight with two scythes (wow I know right) and utilise gravity magic to keep their prey both off balance and an easy target. Their mask holds their weak point behind it, but Grandfather proved that you can simply just explode them instead of fighting with their rules.

First appearance: Devil May Cry (2002)

Rosa Florecer

Grandmama! She's so awesome! And cool! And a badass motherfucker!

Sorry, got carried away for a second there. Turns out Mummy's Mummy was a bit of an ass in her youth. She was told that she was going to be strong, if not the strongest Witch ever and it really got to her head. When the Umbra and the Lumen joined together to further both their teachings and learnings, she was paired with Grandfather as a way of giving her humility and him confidence. They sparred many times, with neither truly being the victor in the end.

Uncle D says that I got my hot-headedness from Mummy, and that she got her hot-headedness from her Mummy too. I wonder if it's genetics or just an Umbran thing? Could be both; Uncle D gets very aggro, but he is both of the Umbran and is Mummy's brother. Do I care? Nah. Mummy says that who I am is who I am, and I shouldn't change for anyone.

Cept for the GF, ya know. But she deserves it!

In this battle, it was proven that brute force and intelligence could be keys to victory. Daddy says I should be more like Grandfather and exercise more caution when I fight. Mummy says otherwise and that bashing Mab Dachi on my enemies is just as effective as any thinking.

First appearance: Bayonetta (2009)

Theme: Battle for the Umbra Throne – Bayonetta (2009)

Madama Khepri, Protector of Time

Uncle D's contracted Demon and one of the four Madama's of the Court. She's the most well-respected by the other three, despite not being the strongest physically or with magic; I guess that has a lot to do with her powers of clairvoyance and seeing-into-the-future. There have been a few times where see has threatened annihilation of someone, so I guess that's how she pulled the other three Madama's into submission…?

She fights like a mimic. I watched Uncle D fight, only to watch her repeat his actions one after the other. According to Mummy, she also utilises Grandmama's stances and patterns as well. I know for a fact that the only two people she has contracted is Grandmama and Uncle D, so I guess it makes sense that she mimics them… but there's something off about it all. Uncle fights his own, unique way that Aunty J can't even replicate. I guess she's been within him for so long that she can do anything he does, but…

Idk. Khepri hides a lot of things. If there's something to hide, she already has it hidden away and we wouldn't even know what to question.

First appearance – Bayonetta 2 (2012)

Theme: Madama Absolute (Jenova Absolute Dual Remix by JdotSweapA - watch?v=Ob8SUSTpv8A&list=WL&index=29 )

Jukebox

No Updates… :(

Character Data

Norik

One of Grandfather's oldest friends.

From everything I've heard about him, he seemed to take advantage of Grandfather for his own benefit. Or at least to try. He kinda threw Grandfather to the side once he was caught.

No one gives him any more thought, not even Grandfather. I guess some things are best left forgotten.

First appearance: Original Character

Mysterious Man

HE IS SO MYSTERIOUS!

Well, not really. Since parts of this journal were written after I found my family again, his identity is kinda fucked up but expected at the same time. It's amazing how weird things can get if you apply internal logic across universes.

The only spoilers I'm willing to share right now is that he is a visitor on behalf of someone with an invested interest in the multiverse. Someone who is completely wrong and I do not want to talk about it anymore.

First appearance: ?

Theme: Disappeared: Opening refrain – KH2 (2005)

Morgana Le Fay

An ancient Umbra Witch of legend. She rose into power without a contract as one of the strongest 'sorceress's' ever, and then obtained a Demon to further her powers. She became a teacher for the Umbra and taught both Grandmama and Grandfather everything they knew. Well, most things. The basics, the middle, some of the advanced…

I wish I got to know her. She was banished by the Umbra at some point for an unknown reason that not even Aunty J knows, but to official records state that she left the clan of her own volition. It's strange that they lied like this, as they normally do report when people are banished, but I guess there was something wrong with Morgana. Perhaps she was the first Umbra to ever fancy a Sage and threaten their sanctimony of peace.

As far as I know, she has no recorded descendants and disappeared into the wilderness to die alone, stripped of both her power and her dignity.

First appearance – Bayonetta: Origins

Theme: Overture – Bayonetta: Origins (2023)

Post Notes:

I'm back, and with a vengeance. At a little over 24k words this will be the second largest chapter across both Eclipse and Solar Flare. I imagine that the only other chapter that may come close is the final chapter of this story, as I am going to try and split Blood Moons chapers into shorter, more digestable installments.

But onto the contents. I tried to mimic an actual Bayonetta chapter, along with verses and cutscene downtime, in the construction as to make it feel like a natural piece that could have happened in-game (those who have read the various interviews from Platinum Games will remember that Balder was meant to have his own story and there does exist assets and gameplay footage to back these claims). A more accurate representation would feature more verses of Demons and perhaps a few Angels to break up the boss-fights. The Sin Scissors and Death Scythe fight was something I originally planned in this chapter for a long time, so to be able to showcase this vision to you all makes me very happy.

And boy and girls, people of all genders, there are some bosses. The Hope fight is something I've had in my mind for a little while and I'm glad to see it fully realised here. Hope is an interesting character because they don't have a truly unique style, but at the same time they do? In being the weakest character (outside of the ordinary humans) they do have to be a bit more aggressive and desperate, but its definitely interesting to portray.
The Rosa fight came about after I did some internal brainstorming and realised that the best way for them to meet, and the most logical outside of a Romeo and Juliet situation, was for them to fight. Now, as we can see, this isn't fully powered Balder and Rosa having a flirt-fest but a far more brutal and inelegant fray. I also wanted to showcase Rosa a bit with this chapter, and I do feel her sections tell you all how I want her character to be portrayed.

Because, ya know, she's a major player in B3.

But onto the final, and probably the most relevant, we have Madama Khepri. A boss fight I imagine none of you saw coming, but to me its the perfect way to capstone this chapter. I hope you enjoyed it and I will leave you to ponder all the implications I've made.

The mysterious man is someone who you could know, depending on where you've come into this fic from. And Morgana has more appearances to come, I promise!

I hope you all enjoyed this marathon of a chapter and I hope to see you all next time when we get the plot moving forward!