Petos walked the path he'd been given, the moon shining overhead as the only light amidst the gloom as he paced slowly towards the meeting point he'd been given. Was it foolishness or overconfidence that had caused this mistake at the final moment.

Had the leader of the Black Rose grown overconfident enough to invite him? Was it a lack of knowledge of the true direction of the divine teachings? Was it a trap meant to call him out knowing that he would be the only priest confident enough to speak to a demon?

The first was the most attractive because it was a wonderful thing when your enemy made mistakes. Another lucky chance like the misunderstanding that had given him his own first step into the Cult when he'd stumbled on the chance that had led him on his first step into the abyss. It was also a poison to allow it to infest your thoughts, that the goddess watched over him when he needed to watch out for himself.

The second was possible for the Divine Teachings were a powerful cult operation, but in that same vein it belonged to Loki first and foremost. In Orianna where Mordred held his own power close to his chest there were just fewer chances for the Templars to take hold, and those that did would seem to be Mordred's foes.

The third all too likely, and he'd confided in it to the closest members of his own team. He'd brought five of his strongest to Orianna as a failsafe because he was an intruder and Mordred had as much a reason to hate him as anyone else. Even if he was not a match, it would be worthwhile to spite Loki for supporting him in his ascension. But then if Azrael was confident enough to fight Mordred, he should have been confident enough to kill him outright.

Still, one could not gain an advantage without taking a risk and just to see and prove that ten other members existed would be a priceless boon. To know their names when they had contested Mordred for so long he felt the need to hide them from the rest of the Rounds. That was a lever he could put to good use and so he had come.

And this was not the first chance Beatrix had placed in front of him to test him in his path. He would walk on under her protection for as long as his luck held out. He would merely walk under her light until he found the answer he sought.

And speaking of Beatrix she was the first of the members present he recognised. The fabled swordswoman of legend who had gone missing ten years ago, vanishing from the face of the earth. There were some who'd said she'd met her match, some who thought she was dead. He had thought Fenrir had killed her honestly it had seemed like something he might do. Which unfortunately meant he'd spent no time looking into her rumoured disappearance.

But it seemed she'd found the other shadowy organisation instead, ten years spent joining the Black Rose, beyond that she was a legend of war itself and he knew nothing else.

The second he knew of was simple. Sancho Panza had once been captain of the guard, a firebrand who when Raphael had first ascended to the throne had worked alongside him to push dark knights back to the fore of society. They'd failed miserably speaking to empty rooms, and nobles not caring for their words. Until one day Raphael had given up on it, and Sir Panza had retired from his command in shame.

Except instead it seemed he'd found a new master and his descent had been into the darkness rather than obscurity, a deal with the devil elevating him to new heights. His age and growing weakness had only been an affectation to hide the unbridled power than now radiated free.

His eyes flipped to the next face he knew. Dr Faustus Foster, formerly from Laugos. The city of science held loosely to the Divine Teachings, always in conflict with the religious centre of Orum that they even were supposed to hold a secret forbidden library of knowledge considered heretical. It was of course all a lie, for like all the Free City State Alliance they held only one master, Loki. The forbidden library had been a trap to pull in dissidents to recruit into the cult themselves, and to kill those who went too far.

But when the old tenth had died Loki had stepped out to seize as many assets as he could. And Faustus had stepped in and taken something from the library important enough that his benefactor's fury had been palpable. The entire Church called on to hunt him down even as he seemed to have disappeared. A series of coincidences and nothing more it had seemed at the time.

Yet if the Black Rose had been involved then there were no coincidences at all. Only a perfectly executed heist from an organisation that had arranged the death of his predecessor. Just from knowing the names he was already fitting the pieces of countless incidents that had at first seemed unconnected but now took on a new light.

And that was before he considered the final and most important piece he'd met before.

Lutheran Barnett. Sir Gaunt the only Knight of the Round to have lost his position and then regained it. Who had declined in ill health and then returned in full glory on the wake of the destruction of the Cult's presence in Midgar. Had he always been a mole for the Black Rose, or had he accepted an offer for a return to his former glory in exchange for the Cult's secrets.

Each on taken from a fall from grace and remade, a gathering of those dismissed and abandoned restored to their former glory and given a chance to surpass it.

Three others he didn't know in the slightest. A therianthrope with the relaxed confidence of a warrior wasn't unusual it was the standard. A serving girl could have come from anywhere, could do anything and who would ever notice their absence. A middle aged noble when there were thousands of them. He'd picked and chose who to focus on with good reason, and yet those he did know were treating them with a wary respect so of course their credentials must be just as good.

The kind of people one would overlook for their normalcy when they had been the true mastermind all along.

The vampire. Blood staining the world around her with such force that it dwarfed Hel even at her height, a veritable swell of power standing in the centre of their group. She was old, but bore none of the hallmarks of it, none of the rumours of towns vanishing overnight that should have come from such an ancient monster.

But before he could ask the last two members had arrived. The towering behemoth that was Azrael rattling with every step. "It has been so long since our full might has assembled in one place."

Seated on their macabre leader was another therianthrope wearing her own hat that she'd broken by force. A light-hearted smile that seemed out of place even as the combined tower of people loomed as large as Hrungnir ever had. "Boss there are eleven of them there are."

"Of course Sara, I have recruited a new member. But you can rest assured that I have vetted them properly and they bring a vital benefit that will become apparent in time."

The girl nodded and flipped off her seat on his head to land next to the other therianthrope, a sing song answer falling easily alongside her. "That's good enough for me."

He stood up a bit straighter in his own position, because he wanted to give a good impression. While having the respect of the leader was important, having the respect of them all would give him more inroads to work with. And while he wouldn't mention the Cult of Diabolos of course he had a well-prepared excuse for what made him a worthy member to stand amidst the rest.

"But times are dark and soon the Demon King begins to act, hoping to open a gate to allow the demons back into the world once more and we must gather to cast him down." Azrael started his tone dark indeed.

The vampire followed it up. "The Black Rose will open once again and swallow up the Sun, casting a long night over the world." And with those words went any chance they didn't know exactly what the Black Rose itself referred to.

But there was no harm in offering up knowledge they already had. Doing so would prove he had the worth to stand amongst them as he added his own voice. "Soon Ragnarök will attempt to step through in all his demonic glory, but we will be ready."

The guardian of the keep, who had watched over the castle for so many years in hiding as a thorn in Mordred's side. It explained so easily why the king had the courage to stand against Mordred at all.

The two therianthropes had been responsible for the slaughter across Midgar. A piece falling into place for the identity of who had torn through Fenrir's forces over the last few years.

The doctor was studying his own transformation into a demon, and his body had changed at those words his hand taking on a quality more like Azrael. Someone who was just stepping into his own immortality.

Beatrix spoke up. "My last ten years have been spent investigating and culling the various human trafficking organisations that roam the land in search of something precious to me." She moved to continue her words.

But the Therianthrope Sara appeared in front of her mid-sentence. "Fight me."

Beatrix turned to Azrael and he laughed. "Have fun."

The embers of a rivalry burning in the therianthropes eyes as she dragged Beatrix off for a spar, truly a long-held enmity between the two of them but the moment to ask had already passed. And it was time for his own introduction as he settled into his seat having already come to terms with what information he was willing to give. "Father Fusk I am technically in charge of the Templars attempt to investigate the Black Rose. Although it seems I will be coopting it for our own purposes."

The ripple that spread out through the crowd at his words was palpable, hidden looks of shock and attempts to cover their surprise open to him as he read them like a book. Yes like that they would all understand why he'd been allowed in as a new member. Because to be able to turn such an important and vital part of the world's apparatus to their own cause would be something anyone would aspire to.

But before the shock or silence could last the middle aged woman stepped up, her face melting away as the lines faded to youthful exuberance and she smiled sweetly. "Infiltration amongst the noble factions, I have split my time between arranging numerous accidents amongst our foes, and also looking after the Princess while she was far from home." A moment later her face was back the lines returning. A shapeshifter was troublesome but not unheard of, merely that the level of magical control to shape the body always made for a fearsome opponent.

"If we're talking about Midgar." Lutheran smiled easily enough. "I believe you will have all heard of what went down recently, as one of the key players in Shadow Garden behind the scenes I was instrumental in orchestrating it."

"And I have been keeping track of the rest." The servant girl stood with poise unbefitting her assumed station. But then it was an assumed role and not her real one if she stood amongst such titans. "Vegalta is arming in the short term but their eyes are cast wide between elven lands and the growing problems in Midgar. And there is a schism developing, as some of their hinterlands are threatening to join the Free City Alliance. I have put my thumb on that scale and could easily push it into a full blown war if we need a distraction."

He grimaced in the back of his mind. Because it was true that Loki had been making such moves, ever since Gorman's death and considering Midgars weakness he'd been pushing for a while now. Would it take much to get Hrungnir to push back?

Out of the corner of his eye he watched Beatrix and Sara fight. The latter having grown her hands in black claws and her body covered in similar demonic markings to Azrael as she tore the ground around her asunder. A trail of devastation as she pushed Beatrix back across the arena they'd set up. Hopefully not everyone in this room was that monstrous a combatant.

The best thing about having friends in high places was you could get them to order people about. Right now when he wanted to introduce his new team to the court normally you would have to find a scene he could fit them into.

King Raphael had just ordered them all to turn up, and while they could choose to ignore his words the tantalizing prospect of the information placed on the meeting had meant few would. For the mystery of the Black Rose hung in the air, and the King had gone on about them a great deal to recement his position amidst the court and now they might finally be seen,

And the secrecy of who would play the piece to open the court session had left them wondering if Shiron would play, although they would be mistaken.

Philistines, barbarians, uncouth savages.

The words followed his entrance in subtle whispers and not so subtle snide remarks. Curiosity held in their gazes as easily as contempt for they were knights and not musicians and thus far less interesting to the nobles in waiting.

He let their words wash over him and embraced them for just a moment. Because the last laugh would be on them of course. His stride undaunted by their words as he made his way to the piano in the centre of the room.

The piano in the centre of the room called to him, the thrill all the more enticing for hearing their whispers. He would show them all, turn their jeers to ash in their mouths and cement the Black Rose into the minds of everyone present as a player in the game. That he knew how their court operated and could string them along whenever he wanted to.

For Azrael was strong beyond belief just as they'd said. Yet he was no barbarian unfamiliar with the subtler arts but a master at them. A scion, a virtuoso who knew more about music than they had ever dreamt possible. Sliding calmly into his seat in front of the piano even as he imagined the shock on some of their faces.

There was one base line considered so easy to work on and improvise your own tune that Mozart had done so twelve times, and any piano student could do it. 'Ah! Vous dirai-je, maman' or the base tune for twinkle, twinkle little star. While he was not quite Mozart he had one trick Mozart had never had.

Four arms fell to the piano in front of him, and with four arms he could play twice as many melodies at once to reach beyond what other musicians could only dream of. With the first pair of arms he played in Allegro, a quick and lighthearted jaunt that danced across the piano, the whimsy of a joke echoing through the room.

For the second he played in Adagio, a slower more dramatic piece that rang alongside it as a darker undercurrent. For before the joke was done he would see half of them hanged and he wanted them to feel that unsettling truth even as he let it play out.

Even if it was not his best piece perhaps it was enough for a smattering of applause to ring out at the conclusion. He had a full slew of pieces to play across the session, proof that the Black Rose deserved to stand amidst Orianna high society as easily as the battlefield, even if none of the other members could play a piece. For he alone was enough to play until the session ended, to dominate the court through his own majesty.

And as the song ended he rested back with the same confidence he always did and allowed the applause to flow in. What started as a slow clap quickly erupting into thunderous cacophony even as the first to clap begun to approach him. "There are so few who know how to play a four hand piece even after I had asked so many, it seems I was searching in the wrong place."

He grinned behind his mask and bowed his head lightly. Because even if he could not see her face, she had the most perfect magic control of anyone in the room and there could be no doubting her identity. "I have before been called the father of the four hand piano, for when I first grew my second set of arms it was a style I invented. Although others have since tried to match my work by having two players to match me I still have my own tricks."

Epsilon nodded along even as she thought. "I can see the old style in your work like in pieces such as 'les soldats se lamentent'." Which was of course true as it was a piece she'd handed to him yesterday and he'd used it as a reference.

But it was a piece without an author, the name lost to the sands of time, so he could naturally claim it as his own. "I composed both that and this 'Intrigues Judiciaires' and I can play it for you later."

She nodded in understanding. "The joys of music that hide the machinations underneath the surface, and interesting piece to start with for such a court session."

She understood him well, even if hopefully she hadn't figured out it was actually him. He merely nodded to her assessment. "But I digress." He turned to the throne itself. "My King I have brought your court to order that you might speak."

The king took his cue and stepped forth into the spotlight. "Of course, it was a wonderful piece as always my old friend." The lie was perhaps a bit stilted but that was fine because he was less off balance than everyone else in the room. "But then war is afoot in the country and the situation is so severe that I have had to call you all back for the battle at hand,"

A swell of courage from the crowd, because even if they appreciated the music Orianna did not want a war. "It was but one act from Perv and while I recognise it did you great harm your majesty it can hardly be called a war."

A murmur of discontent rising up around it even as he used his magic to single out the perpetrator, rising back to his full height and appearing before the man in a moment. "That one act is not the war no." He let his words carry into the crowd, magic used to empower the whisper until it felt like he was whispering in every ear at once. "But my war with Mordred is coming, I even have a declaration of it right here." He handed one more letter over to the man.

The King took his cue. "Ah wonderful, then Count Rennes here can be our messenger to the Demon King. How kind of you to volunteer."

"I don't understand why you're handing this to me, I don't have any such connection." The count who'd insulted him was looking at the letter in his hands like it was a viper waiting to strike.

He cocked his head looking down at the shaking man in front of him. "You don't need to deliver it to Mordred, it is waiting for him to collect it from you. For his eyes are everywhere and I know he will find a way to obtain it. Your insignificance doesn't matter because you're a piece and not a player."

The poor little Count sputtered caught between the desire to deny he was useless and the fear of admitting he worked for Mordred. "Then if I don't know who that is do you mind if I burn it." It was an attempt at courage he had to admit.

He bent unnaturally to meet the man face to face and while he couldn't grin he could still let his mirth fill his voice. "You would dare decide what Mordred deserves to see yourself against his wishes. How brave of you to make the choice all on your own, to declare yourself able to choose what your master needs to see and what he does not. It seems this will be our last meeting but know I admire your courage as you march into the flames."

He heard the swallow, held his position a moment longer and then launched himself back up to his full height and turning away as he surged back to the piano. Leaving the man to stew in his thoughts, perhaps he even would burn it and he'd have to come up with a new plan.

He doubted it because Count Rennes was still trembling where he'd left him. The man clearly looking around as though hoping the Earth would swallow him up rather than make that excuse in front of Mordred.

Still, he could drive the point in further. "My King would a funeral dirge be appropriate for the next piece? That we might all appreciate Count Rennes decision to stand up to Mordred in spite of his weakness."

But his own course changed before he ever reached the piano, taking a step behind the king and shadowing him even as he received an assent. For all plans required the wit to roll with new developments and the vampire girl had her own recorder out and had taken the seat instead of him.

A mournful dirge, low soft notes reverberating around the room like a funeral march and he laughed in his own head at the jest. The crowd parting around the lone man as he sat in abject silence waiting for his demise.

But it was not all silence, and in the clusters around the room still some spoke in hushed voices. As quietly as possible to be lower than the dirge but that was the best place to let them plot. He let them come up with whatever plan they wanted because it was all beneath him, for whatever tricks they thought up would not be enough.

He let his senses touch on the other members of the Black Rose to see if any of them were going to pick up an instrument.

Perhaps the clergymen could play an organ, but they lacked one in the room. Could Lutheran play anything? But he seemed the type to spend more time on research and it had never come up in conversation. Sancho and Faust looked like no from how they were reclining unable to truly appreciate the music but Elaine.

Elaine was used to attending diplomatic functions in the country of music itself, so it was only natural that she could play something. If she had been bad then she could have never gotten anywhere. At his nod she pulled and tested an instrument that looked somewhere between a guitar and a lute from the wall. Seating herself for the next piece after Mary was finished.

"A rousing piece my lord, for those that still remain." Her mask was a smiling theatre troupe mask, but it was plainly evident there was another more mirthful smile behind it. She was clearly enjoying having the chance to actually stand above those who she would normally have to bow to.

Even if unseen he would grin back as he answered for the King. "A nation can't grind to a halt for one naysayer now can they?" She strummed the opening bars and his faith in her was rewarded for she was good.

But it was the least interesting thing happening right now, for all the pieces moving around the room had finally come to their decision.

As one the members of Count Rennes clique gathered around as a wall, covering the man from sight for over a minute in a brazen display of numbers and power that might leave an onlooker questioning just who had taken the real letter away.

A shell game where they made no pretence that it hadn't been moved, and merely relied on numbers and sleight of hand to leave you guessing which had taken it away. The crowd dispersing all at once even as a dozen of them left the room as though they had received something.

They hadn't the letter was still in the room, but at least Viscount Rennes no longer had it. Those who had left returning back to their own cliques where it traded hands once again, and then a third time as though they could keep him guessing on who to follow.

Mordred really needed to teach his minions better decorum, because it was all futile in the first place. The letter itself pulsating out a pulse of magic invisible to the naked eye, but oh so obvious to his own magic sense.

But the fun was in knowing something they didn't and watching as they tried to pull their little tricks not realising they were in front of a master. They weren't even in the same league, pawns to toy with before he found his way to the puppet master.

The music was loud at least and that was a comfort, because he didn't want to be overheard. His footsteps feeling heavy as he approached their supposed leader. Raphael though had been clearly uncomfortable at his every move, his actions laced with the kind of uncertainty that was obvious to anyone who knew him.

Sancho paused in his thoughts, well anyone who knew the man as well as he did at least. Which meant that the Black Rose hadn't really been guards in the first place, and so he followed to confront the obvious mastermind, at least here in the corner it was private enough to speak. Public enough that it would be unwise to murder him in front of the crowd.

"Speak already Sir Panza, my time is important." It didn't before to turn to face him, the voice sounding out as a whisper somehow loud enough to be clear in spite of the music.

"You aren't actually a Knight of Orianna, and never were either." The accusation did not carry out into the room, but the creature heard it all the same.

There was no tell, no concern just a continued dismissal of his presence. Not even bothering to turn and face him in spite of the accusation. "You have gained such doubt, shall I put that fear to rest?"

"I may not know you, but I know Raphael and he lies every time he says you have been a servant of the crown."

"I was never his servant it is true, but I serve Orianna itself and not any mere King." The creature beside him twisted unnaturally until it's face was level with his own. The rattling of its limbs echoing as two arms braced against the wall and he met the pitch blank face. "Have you told anyone one else about this yet?"

The strength that had flowed through him disappeared as all the extra power he'd been given rebelled, a single finger poking against his forehead as the monster watched him. "Yes I have."

"You're lying, you'll need to get better at that." It twisted back to its full height as it towered above him. A single hand came crashing down on his head… patted him lightly on the head the wave of power returning tenfold as even more strength flowed through his form. "Because now that you know it's a game that makes you management."

"Management?"

It nodded calmly as it folded all ten arms. "I can hardly put a new member in charge now can I? As one of the few members who has seen through the trick it's now a part of your duty to keep the game going on until no one else can tell the difference."

He blinked as his eyes met the faceless mask as unreadable as it ever was. Complete indifference to the plight of humans more than any lie of concern. But it must have sensed his concern regardless for it spoke again.

"We are surrounded on all sides by the enemy, united they could break down the gates and crush us with sheer numbers. But they are not united, for each of them has infiltrated the Black Rose. Each of them has seen that we have the backing of the Templars, that Midgar dances on my hand. Though they outnumber us they cannot realise it and through that there is time."

"Time to tear down their strengths and to gather our own forces while they fight their own shadows." The blank face was inches away from him. "If you think the Black Rose is a lie then all you need to do is keep going until no one else can separate lie from truth. Until it is a truth and you may wield it against any foe you have."

The promise echoed down his spine, even as he trailed behind the figure, heading not towards the king but to the princess smiling in the shadows back at them. "

He'd been her instructor for years in swordsmanship before she left for Midgar, and yet she addressed Azrael first. Still, he hadn't spoken to her in a long time now. "You are looking well Princess."

She bowed her head to him for but a moment before her gaze turned back to Azrael, like a maiden in love with the monster. Even as Azrael spoke to her without any formality. "It seems Sir Panza here has grown wise to the ways of the game we're playing."

"Then I should bring him up to speed on everything he needs to know." She was more comfortable with him than Raphael had been all day.

The monster patted Princess Rose on the head lightly. "Good as long as you understand, I have an important job to do right now. My piano is calling my name, it sings to me that I must prove its superiority and dazzle their minds." With those words the figure crashed over to the centre of the room, bathing in the gaze of the audience.

"Is that really someone you can trust Princess?"

His student looked back at him without a single doubt in her eyes. "More than anyone you can trust him."

It would have to do for now even if he wasn't sure how well it was deserved.

The music thrummed through the room loud enough to cover all the whispers around the room, and in his own corner he spoke his own whisper.

"Shadow has said you are exceptional, a boon to his forces and so naturally I wish to test you for myself. Tonight, when we strike I will be letting you be in charge of one squad, two other members. If you do well they will be able to say it easily, and if you do not I can trust them to pick up the pieces regardless." It was a challenge and a disguise all in one go.

Lutheran nodded in assent calm as ever. "A wise decision I will be sure to show you how much I can accomplish. Better to prove it from the beginning then let you waste my talents on the battlefield."

He grinned behind his mask. "Perhaps but you will find we operate differently from your Shadow Garden, for I expect my troops to be able to operate on their own, far afield from my gaze without their leader standing over their shoulder. If you need someone to hold your hand through the darkness you will fail."

Lutheran spoke with mirth in his voice. "Haven't we already managed to free Midgar? You need not worry I am a cut above them, a class of my own. I assure you even if your subordinates do not meet my expectations, I alone will be enough to turn the tide and crush whatever foe stands before me."

He turned to walk away. "See to it that you do." It would have to be quite impressive considering he was going to give him a wild goose chase to run off on, but it would be funny to try and see him spin it as a vital success.

Nu was sitting there watching him as he approached. "I would have thought it was better to have no spies in our midst, but you brought him in as a member of the Cult." It wasn't an accusation at him, but one at herself for not understanding why.

He tapped his fingers against the extra arms as he considered his words, and then went straight through with the best answer. "It is something to watch isn't it? Lutheran thinks he is playing me and can subvert things from the inside and yet all he does is dance on my palm unaware of the truth. Gaunt knows nothing, and so can only tell Mordred the lies I give him. And each time Mordred hears them he will wonder how far Gaunt has fallen and what else he has missed. Mordred already trusts his subordinates poorly, he keeps them weak for he cannot trust anyone as strong as he is. How useful it is to know he will cast away his closest allies when he should have turned to them for help."

Nu nodded in understanding and thanked him for his made up wisdom and quickly disappeared back into the crowd.

Servants had come and gone, supplies had moved in and out of the castle. Nobles had made their way home and in the midst of one entourage, one of the King's ostensible supporters the letter had passed out through the gate.

He'd merely waited and watched from afar because there was no point in springing a trap before the bait was even taken. What use had he for capturing a minor servant when he wanted a lieutenant, a commander worth taking from Mordred.

Only once someone with the magic sense to notice the trap had sprung it would there be a head worth taking. Yet they'd only taken it to a minor post office, the building a sorting house for letters as though you could hide a needle in a haystack.

When he had a magnet hovering just over it rendering the whole charade pointless. He hummed under his breath and waited, resting lightly as it changed hands, passed through the backrooms and finally found someone willing to open it.

He eyed the room carefully and found it dull. The man inside had no magic either and seemed only a patsy, so he waited. Waited as the man pulled out more paper and ink and transcribed the words to another sheet, and it was true that the ink was laced with magic so changing it was the right choice. That there was a trap in the paper so a new sheet was necessary.

It was a commendable play, a beautiful display of paranoia that not even a single trace of the original letters existence would remain when they transferred it to its actual destination.

It had been the wax as well which he'd replaced with a slime substitute that pulsed magic once a minute radiating it's position. The moment the seal had been broken he'd channelled the magic contained within and marked the man writing it as well.

Said man had carried off the new letter, his presence pulsating outwards every step of the way so no matter how many side passages he wandered down, or how many twists and turns he took to evade his pursuers he may as well have been holding a neon sign the whole time, lighting the path through the night.

Without ever once stepping foot onto the same street, he watched the man approach a meaningless building drab in its mediocrity and then felt the letter fade away. Not due to the magic being cut off, but the weight of the earth enough to prevent even him finding it.

As the pulse became weaker and weaker as they disappeared into the depths of Mordred's base. He laughed at the thought of it, for when he'd been invited he'd assumed Mordred had some kind of palace due to being friends with the chancellor.

It was an underground lair, the madman had gone all in and carved it into the very bedrock beneath the city so he could call himself the lurking darkness within the heart of it. How far did his evil lair manage to extend? Was there just one of them beneath the city or did he have several?

No wonder everyone aboveground was just expendable and the true darkness hidden within the country lay beneath the surface.

A lovely X marks the spot, and he could bring his little minions to dig up all the treasure he wanted.

Petos thought Gaunt was a traitor, Gaunt thought Petos had betrayed them. Both messages passed on to one of his subordinates as though it were full of information. Yet everything else contained within them was the same.

They were both compromised which would have been a problem if he ever let them in on anything. All the two of them knew was a number of drops to pass a message on and not the ways into his base. Because as much as they were allies, the leaders of the cult were also his worst enemies and any one of them might have decided to help a little rebellion to see what he'd gained from Morgan all those years ago.

Noone with power enough to contest him could come and go as they pleased, that was what it meant to be safe within his own lair. Except Vafthrudnir had recently proved he didn't know it half as well as he thought he did. So now he was tracing his way over the designs, for anything that looked as out of place as the last blunder.

The moment he felt it he left his own lab, crashing through the doors with purpose as he forced down the flames from touching his own experiments. Each pulse of magic was obvious to his senses as he homed in through the halls until he came face to face with the idiot who had brought it in. "What are you doing?"

The child of about twenty shook at his coming and presented a letter to him. "For you." Head bowed and form in total fear as he should be.

His own hand reached out, brushing free the magic construct bound to the idiots form, his own flames ready and surging for the trap beneath it as it burst free. The child screamed of course at the burns, but it barely mattered as even as it broke the magic within changed.

A voice echoing from the droplet suspended in midair. "Mordred I heard that you wanted a drop of demon's blood, so I decided to donate one of my own to you. Think of it as a gift to commemorate the start of our wonderful game."

The path to his lair was known then, for anyone who had mutated themselves to such an extent could see through it. But he had kept them incompetent himself so there was nothing else for it except to accept that he knew where they were going to attack from. "If you have the courage to enter hell itself, come then into my lair let us see if you can leave it."

The voice echoed in a laugh afterwards. "I will be coming for you, even if I have to wade through an army of demons." With those last words it fell inert, the power spent as the droplet fell into his hands. The magic contained within sputtering as one last harmless flare and evaporating as its power was exhausted.

He was already moving back further into his base. Heading for the room they'd left Freya in to get acclimated to her newfound freedom.

The door slammed open the girl inside shuddering for a moment, struggling with the way her own hands shook. He could spare her only a moment though and she understood as she reached for her sword. The voice strong enough despite a lifetime of screaming. "The enemy comes I take it."

He raised a brow, because while she looked healthy her heart clearly wasn't in it. "If you're unable to fight yet it's better that I leave you here you understand?" He wouldn't deal with a broken piece.

She shuddered once more, and then the room began to cool as a mist spread out around her. All motion in her presence coming to an end as she stood frozen in place as the shakes ended. "I can still fight so…" She trailed off her words for a moment before appearing resolute. "Even if I die I won't back down."

He inclined his head in understanding. They both knew what being a failure entailed having seen just what her former prison looked like. "I would think the pain from doing that to yourself would be indescribable. But if you are capable of fighting like this then I shall allow it."

She walked past him a grim smile forming. "It hurts much less than being Diabolos cage did."

The night was still long, and he knew the way in. The pulse of magic that ebbed ever so slightly from underground proved his recorded message had gone off without a hitch. So now all that was needed was to set everything off.

Ten members stood to his back, he'd called them all once he'd found his destination, although they would not all be coming with him.

He'd set up two dead drops at some modest buildings that were out of the way and obviously unused. Boring amidst the colour of the rest of the city yet not quite macabre enough to be actually foreboding. The rest of the Black Rose would head to them and find nothing while he took the main stage and wiped out the only entrance worth visiting.

"Three paths I have set in motion to find the entrance to Mordred's lair, how far into his base they have been taken is yet unknown, and yet time is against us, so the only option is to push into the lion's den." He rose towering over his little minions even as he let his arms rattle for dramatic effect. "Three teams, Lutheran and Sancho can take charge."

The two of them nodded in assent and he grinned beneath his mask. Even as he gestured lightly for the other members to their team, a carefully orchestrated display of going with whoever you were standing closest to when he'd decided things.

With one hand he reached out and snapped his fingers, the explosions rocking off in the distance beyond his magic sight, and yet he didn't need to be able to see them. A flourish to his right, "Lutheran go." A flourish to his left, "Sancho."

Until he stood surrounded only by the members of Shadow Garden he'd brought with him. Delta. Pi and Nu settling in behind him as he nodded his head. "Theirs is an easier mission for we alone are prepared to face off against Mordred himself. Come."

"Don't let it touch you." Eta's words fell without concern even as the vial was handed over. A poison to slather over their weapons, one that should be strong enough to affect even a demon. She incorporated it suspended amidst a series of slime constructs for when the time would come.

But there were still more things contained within the vast set of apparatus Eta had brought with her. A machine to absorb magic to set the trap based on what the Cult had used previously. A barrage of automated weapons that could fire off without a care in the world.

Lights, and lots of them. "You think the face covering is more important than the other eyes he's supposed to have?"

Eta nodded calmly from where she was still unpacking more explosives. "Worth a shot, if so the mundane weapons will unbalance and maybe even damage him."

"The demon at Midgar was able to regenerate almost effortlessly, we should assume Azrael can do the same." Although even then Shadow had proven that it was possible to cut it up enough to stop it for a time, and it would leave them with plenty of extra organs their lord could experiment with.

"What the poison is for." Eta nodded to whatever kind of sedative it was she'd given her already. A lighter form of the true horror she was keeping hidden in her own care.

A single final box she hadn't let any of them touch. Her words enough to guess just what she'd brought, because there was nothing else that needed such security. "The dragon poison then."

A lidded gaze stared back at her, eyeing her lightly as the scientist looked her up and down. "Of course we're using the dragon poison, I've brought everything for it."

Zeta smiled softly back. Because she was right and there were some things so obvious they didn't need to be said. "I will make sure the other two are ready for the battle ahead then and leave it to you."

Eta went back to unpacking her last box. "If I use this, make sure to scoop up the remains."

Well Eta was half likely to fall asleep once they were done, so she had been planning on that from the beginning. "Of course."

AN: 100K words. Which ffnet at least feels is significant so go me.

The Orianna music is not keyed to actual songs unlike each of Cid's Earth pieces which are things that can be looked up and is just me using google translate to write things in French. I apologise greatly if it is horribly butchered to anyone who actually does read French.

I am trying a new summary in the hopes that it brings in more readers, but alas if it does not I'm still enjoying the writing of it so oh well.

Update on this, the new summary has brought me the most new readers in a single day since February 9th. And its second day is still more than any other day since early March. So it is at least doing better at getting new readers than the old one.

Anisomeone: 1

Present in Orianna
Shadow Garden: Epsilon, Chi and Omega - Zeta, Eta, Victoria and Iris

Black Rose (Core Shadow Garden 4): Cid, Delta, Nu and Pi
Black Rose (Fake 5): Beatrix, Mary (Vampire hunting vampire) [Sir Sancho Panza (Knight), Lady Elaine (Diplomat), Dr Faustus Foster (Doctor)] these three are made for this story
Black Rose (Known Cult of Diabolos 2): Lutheran/Gaunt, Father Fust/Petos

Cult of Diabolos: Mordred, Freya, Vafthrudnir (Advisory role only), Mordred's First Children (So far not shown.)

2) Eta and Zeta are plotting to assassinate him, everyone else is sort of following Alphas orders for noninterference.

3)
3 factions as you have said Shadow Garden, Black Rose and Cult.
But just as you feel confused, Cid is pushing for the cult to start friendly fire against each other, and causing his own side to get friendly fire as well.