The Guardian Temple

Table of Contents
Chapter 17 l Chapter 18 l Chapter 19 l Chapter 20 l Chapter 21 l Chapter 22 l Chapter 23
Chapter 24 l Chapter 25 l Chapter 26 l Chapter 27 l Chapter 28 l Chapter 29 l Chapter 30 l Chapter 31
Chapter 32 l Chapter 33 l Chapter 34 l Chapter 35 l Chapter 36 l Chapter 37 l Chapter 38 l Chapter 39 l Chapter 40 l Chapter 41l Chapter 42l Chapter 43 l
Chapter 44 l Chapter 45 l Chapter 46 l Chapter 47 l Chapter 48 l Chapter 49 l Chapter 50

Epilogue.

A middle aged woman with messy auburn hair and emerald green eyes sits up in her bed, in a cold sweat.

Her heart hammers in her chest as she looks around the room, bleary eyed.

“Asmodai…?” she whispered softly, shaking her head “...Wait.. what?” She groans as she clumsily reaches for a pair of glasses on her nightstand.

She slides the heavy prescriptions onto her face, blinking the sleep from her eyes as her wild and frazzled hair blocks her vision.

As she clears her hair away, she rubs her temples, “...What was that dream about?” She shakes her head, the memories fading rapidly, “Something about… Some big tall man… with blue eyes,” she blushed, “Hmm… shame I can’t remember it.”

Her phone continues to blare a loud alarm, and she picks it up, turning the alarm off.

She glances at the time, and to her texts.

The time is 8:00 AM in the morning, and a number of texts are waiting for her.

“Ugh,” the mousey woman sighs, flipping through the messages.

The messages were all from her known contacts.

Jason: “Happy Birthday, Mom! See you at 6!”

Dad: “Happy Birthday, Sweetie!”

Mom: “From the proudest mom ever, Happy birthday!”

David: “Happy Birthday, Sara! A big breakfast is ready when you wake up.”

Sara sighs, replying thank you to all, saving David’s for last.

“I wonder if I should tell David about that risque dream I had about the tall dark and handsome fellow with blue eyes?” Sara thought to herself as she merely texted David that she was, indeed, awake and would be right down.

As she was about to place the phone down, another message popped up.

David: “Do you need help getting out of bed?”

Sara’s face fell as she looked at the message, typing firmly, “No. I’ll be down on my own, thank you.”

“On my birthday, David? Really?” Sara thought to herself as she leaned over the side of the bed and pushed her folded wheelchair opened.

With practiced expertise, she pushed the sheets off her thin legs, and slid herself into the chair. After a few moments, she undid the wheel brakes, and pushed herself towards her bathroom.

“I’m not helpless, and never will be,” Sara thought to herself as she wheeled herself past the bathroom threshold.

She disrobed completely, and transferred to another chair within the bathroom in order for her to shower.

After completing her morning routine, she was dressed, her hair washed and brushed straight. Her wardrobe for the office cleanly adorned her lithe body. The skirt and shoes even did well to hide the emaciated legs that had failed her when she was only 18.

Sara rolled herself to the dining room, where she found her husband David waiting with a large breakfast.

He wore an apron, his brown hair well combed, though a receding hairline was visible. His brown eyes happily looked to Sara as she rolled into the kitchen. Under the apron, he wore a pair of simple slacks and a dress shirt with a tie.

Pancakes, eggs, sausages, and bacon along with a rather large mug of coffee.

“Figured once you hit the shower you’d be out in about 34 minutes,” David chuckled as he placed the food at the only place on the table which didn’t already have a chair. He gave Sara a peck on the cheek.

“Oh, have you timed me that well?” Sara grinned at him, looking at the food, “You don’t expect me to eat all of this, do you?”

“Well, whatever you don’t eat, I will,” David laughed as he sat down near her.

“And you’re here and not at the office, why?” Sara questioned David.

“Told them I’d be late, as it was your birthday, and I had to get a decent breakfast for you,” he grinned, “Perks of, you know, owning the firm.”

“Oh? And why is this year different from other years, Dear?” Sara asked.

David chuckled, “You don’t turn 50 everyday you know.”

Sara narrowed her eyes on him, “...35, dear.”

David chuckled, “Right, right. For the… tenth time, now?”

Sara took her fork, pointing it menacingly at him, “Don’t make me put you in a wheelchair, Mr. Miller.”

David mockingly placed his hands up, “Okay, Okay. 35, got it.”

Sara rolled her eyes as she dug into her breakfast.

David turned on the TV, flipping on the news, “Wonder if you’re going to get any coverage.”

Sara glanced to the screen, seeing the news scrolling along.

Demon incursion of 13 years ago all but quelled. Visas’ offered for Thralls and Half-Demonic entities. Martial Law ending?

“I think there’s plenty more going on than just a cure for ALS,” Sara quipped, smiling with a mildly smug grin.

“Right,” David shook his head, “Should still be a big deal.”

“People will find out, mostly those who need it,” Sara sighed, “Just glad I won’t lose my arms.”

“Was it all you or some of that advanced technology that the Empress brought?” David asked, pouring himself a coffee.

“You do realize all medical research is built by standing on the shoulders of others, right?” Sara quipped, “If not for me, no one would have thought to synthesize the retrovirus that stopped the nerve degradation. So don’t think I didn’t earn my keep,” Sara joked, frowning slightly, “Your father at least thinks I’m the only one who controls it, that’s for sure.”

“Dad just doesn’t want to see you waste a good opportunity,” David defended.

“Your father just wants a slice of the pie,” Sara sighed, “He’s always thinking of the money, and nothing else,” she pushed herself from the table, “Well, Sir, the meal was very good. Do I pay here or up front?” Sara joked.

“Right here is fine,” David said as he moved to Sara to give her a kiss.

Sara kissed him, though as the kiss broke, she felt it paled in comparison to another kiss she had recently.

“That must have been a hell of a dream,” Sara thought as she blushed.

“Hmm… haven’t had that effect on you in a while,” David grinned, “Breakfast that good?”

Sara cleared her throat, “...I should get going, or I’ll miss the train.”

David chuckled, “alright then, leave me to clean up, I see how it is!” He smiled and cleaned up the dishes.

Sara rolled to the door, grabbing her purse and heading out, “I’ll meet you at Jason’s around 6?” she shouted.

“Sure thing, sweetie! 6 on the dot!” David shouted as Sara rolled out the door.

Sara heaved a sigh as she slowly made her way down the ramp in front of her home, and onto the sidewalk.

Her phone rang, and she glanced at the caller ID. Murray Miller.

“Ugh,” Sara grumbled, picking it up, “Hello, dad.”

“Sara, excellent!” Murry Miller’s boisterous voice chimed in over the phone, “So glad I could catch you before you got into the office. Firstly: Happy Birthday.”

“Mhmm… Thanks,” Sara said curtly.

“Oh, come now, is that any way to talk to your father-in-law?” Murray complained.

“It is when said father-in-law is desperately trying to undermine my work,” Sara countered.

“Undermine? Sara… I’m just making sure you and David are financially secure. This whole cure thing you have is amazing, and I commend you on it… but surely to just… give the patents away can’t be your actual decision, can it? I have friends in the Pharmaceutical industry who would happily assist you in not just making this a dedicated product, but also ensuring that those in need got discount coupons so they could afford it. It’s a win-win! Please, just let me connect you with my colleague in Pfizer-”

“No,” Sara snapped, “We’ve been over this. David makes enough money as is, I don’t want to make this some get-rich quick scheme where all the big pharmaceuticals get a piece of the pie. This isn’t just for people who can afford it, it’s for the whole world.”

“Sara, listen to me! Everyone is covered these days thanks to the Penthasilian Health Services, you’d be a fool to not partner with someone to bring this to market in the most profitable way for you and David!”

“Stop saying ‘You and David’, you want us to be stinking rich like you were in the early 2000s,” Sara growled into the phone, “David and I are comfortable. You are comfortable. We don’t need yachts and mansions or estates!” She hissed, “I am releasing it not just to the PHS but to everyone, for free, and that includes the Soviet Alliances.”

“Why help those idiots? And how would you even get it to them, the new Iron Curtain is damn near impenetrable! You’re just being obstinate!” Murray shouted over the phone.

“No,” Sara growled, “I’m being Ethical. I worked hard to make this cure for everyone who had this disease. I don’t care who they are, Americans, Penthasilians, Russians or Chinese: Everyone who needs it will have access to it. Now goodbye, dad!”

Before Murry could argue, she ended the call.

Sara took a heavy and deep sigh, before she turned to her right to see she was passing her favorite local bar. “...It’s 5pm somewhere.” Sara turned and rolled into the building, happy to see it opened.

“Bit early for an Irish Coffee, isn’t it Sara?” the bartender called out to her, chuckling as Sara rolled over to the end barstool.

Sara locked her wheelchair, grabbed the handle of the bar, and pulled herself up to the barstool, “Yeah, well…” Sara sighed, “I turned 50 today, Pete.”

Pete, the bartender, let out a whistle.

“No one knows that, by the way. You tell a soul, and you’re dead,” Sara mock threatened.

“Hey, I’m a bartender,” Pete said as he poured a fresh coffee and added a shot of whiskey, “What my customers say to me, stays with me.”

Sara smiled as the glass slid her way.

“Though I don’t recall seeing you during other birthdays, issues?” Pete asked.

“My father-in-law is demanding I take my great contributions to mankind and turn them into a quick buck,” Sara sighed, “David is half on his side but…” she shook her head, “There’s more to life than money, you know?”

“I find that folks who say that tend to have more than enough money,” Pete quipped.

“Yes,” Sara said with a smile, “and I have plenty. I don’t need more.” Sara took a heavy sip, “Mmm.. top shelf Pete?”

“Hey, Happy Birthday,” Pete said, “On the house.”

“Aww, thanks Pete,” Sara said as she glanced up at the TV.

On the screen was Grand General Zepherina, commander of Penthasil’s armed forces, as well as the defacto ruler of the entire Penthasilian Empire, which, sans some large portions of Asia, ruled most of the civilized world.

“Oh, great… Wonder what she’s on about now?” Sara sighed.

“Oh, you didn’t hear?” Pete said, turning the volume up, “Big announcement.”

Zepherina’s voice was unmuted as she spoke to a large crowd. “It’s been several years since the demonic incursion and I know that we all lost a lot. But I’m proud to say, with the efforts of our esteemed soldiers, the cooperation of our religious leaders, and the diligence of every citizen of the Empire, we can finally declare the war against the demonic forces, over!”

Sara sipped her coffee, “and here I thought she was going to hold onto power indefinitely.”

Pete chuckled, “Oh yeah. Like we had it so good before she showed up, right?”

Sara glanced at Pete, “I do recall voting…”

“Mhmm, and that did us so good, didn’t it?” Pete chuckled.

Sara took another sip of her coffee, glancing up to the screen.

“As the war is over, so is the Martial Law I imposed, under authority of my Mom, Empress Ranga, forever Her soul rests in power,” Zepherina paused.

Pete whispered, “Forever Her soul rests in power.”

Sara frowned, turning back to the TV.

“With the end of Martial Law, comes the return of your local elections and the restoration of statehood for many of the Empire’s Nation States,” Zepherina announced.

“Heh, guess we get voting back after-all,” Pete chuckled.

Sara sipped her coffee, “Yeah. With General Zepherina always at the top,” she thought to herself.

“I am sure all of you expected this announcement,” Zepherina continued, “What I announce now is that I am abdicating my rightful claim to the throne.”

Sara nearly spat out her Irish Coffee.

“The fuck?!” Pete shouted, looking intently at the screen.

“She’s stepping down?!” Sara said, now interested in the announcement.

The crowd was just as flabbergasted.

Zepherina lifted her gauntlet clad hand to silence the crowd. “I am a General and I plan to remain one henceforth. As such, I do not believe my time as the leader of our armed forces will translate properly to managing the Nation States in peacetime. That is why, from this day forward, Princess Lucilla Hyppolite, my sister, will be crowned as your new Empress of the Penthasilian Empire.”

Sara scoffed, “Oh like that’s so much better.”

Pete barely paid much attention to Sara as Zepherina made way for a smaller, by comparison, woman.

She stood slightly over 185cm tall, had long red hair, and similar violet eyes. Her eyes seemed to have a defined glow to them, her angelic wings were black, with white fringes along the edge.

Zepherina hugged Lucilia, and stepped away from the podium.

“She’s like… What… 16?” Pete asked out loud. “Maybe 18? I can’t remember…”

Sara frowned, “Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t change anything.”

“I think it does,” Pete said as the TV continued.

Lucilia’s voice carried outward, “I know that maybe I am new to you. Apart from my relationship to my sister General Zepherina Hyppolite. You know her great work protecting this grand Empire, and our entire world, but little of me.”

Sara looked down at her drink, her eyes moving to Pete as he watched the announcement with rapt attention.

Lucilia continued, “I want to express that General Zepherina will continue to protect us all, that I will be here to manage your matters of state. I will facilitate the elections of your local representatives, the formations of your parliaments and senates, as well as-”

“Turn it off, Pete,” Sara asked, agitation clearly in her voice.

Pete muted it, keeping the captions on the TV, “Eh, it’s not so bad.”

“Mmhmm,” Sara took another sip of her coffee, “It isn’t until someone comes into power who is.”

Pete rolled his eyes, “Yeah, Yeah,” he headed to the other side of the bar.

Sara stared at the coffee cup, looking at herself in the reflection of the liquid.

That’s when a smooth voice chimed in from over her shoulder, “Something troubling you, young lady?”

Sara turned to spot a man in a white suit, an old style hat, and striking amber eyes. He smiled broadly at her.

“I did catch your name, but I feel it’s rude to not properly introduce oneself,” He grinned, “Benjamin Leibel is the name.”

“Sara,” Sara said shortly.

“I know,” Benjamin grinned wide, “I overhead.”

“Mhmm,” Sara said, taking another sip, “So, I’m married, though I doubt you’re hitting on me.”

Benjamin gave a haughty laugh and sat at the stool next to her. “Nothing of the sort, not that I’m disparaging you. I mean, you can’t help the body you’re born into,” He chuckled, “Well, Normally.”

“Normally?” Sara asked.

“Mmm,” Benjamin smiled at her, “I have a proposal for you Sara, and I’m certain you’d be interested.” Benjamin slid a glass of water to Sara.

Sara glanced at the water glass suspiciously, “So, I have a drink, thanks.”

Benjamin grinned, and tapped the glass, the water turning to red wine, “I’m an angel, Sara. Not like the Royal family. I can perform miracles. I want to perform one for you, you see. To help you.”

Sara looked at the glass, picking it up and sniffing it.

It was wine.

“So, if you’re an angel, where were you when all Hell literally broke loose?” Sara questioned.

“Oh, Sara,” Benjamin chuckled, “The war? I was busy fighting! But all that’s over. Now I just want to get back to doing the work I was doing before the war.”

“What work would that be?” Sara questioned.

“Well,” Benjamin snapped his fingers, a scroll appearing in his hand, “Helping people achieve what they couldn’t before. I could make your legs work, and even fix your vision. Make you whole again, Sara. All I ask is a stake,” He grinned a million watt smile, “in you. So to speak.”

Sara glanced at the paper, took a heavy swig of her coffee, and spat it out on the contract.

Benjamin shot up from his seat, shocked.

“Fuck off, yah prick,” Sara said as she pushed herself from the stool, and onto her wheelchair, “Later, Pete!”

As Sara rolled out the door, Benjamin, better known as Belial, the former Demon of Flesh and Lord of Lust, grinned at Sara as she left, “Well well well… Little Sara still has some bite to her,” he grinned wickedly, “I’ll find a way to get you yet, Sara Baker.”

“I bet you will,” a voice chimed in behind Belial.

Belial turned to see a woman with long blonde hair, dressed in all black. She wore fishnets, a pair of calf high boots, with her nails painted black. She had a tattoo of a golden apple on her shoulder.

The woman stood, lithe and petite, and mostly unassuming. Her build was thin, far from frail, but her face did appear as if she had been malnourished. To most, she would appear as a beautifully thin young woman, maybe in her late 20s.

To Belial, he could see there was something far more to her as he looked her over, “...and you are?”

“Your new best friend,” the mysterious woman gave Belial a warm smile, “You’re kind of special having survived the wall and all.”

Belial lifted an eyebrow, and grinned, “I have my ways.”

“Things are boring,” the blonde woman said in an exasperated tone as she stood up, “Really boring,” she grinned, “but you seem to me to be the kind of person who I could count on to stir things up.”

Belial chuckled, “What ever gave you that idea?”

“Pft,” the blonde grinned, “you used the same fake name that you did with Fred.”

Belial’s smile faded slightly.

“Belial,” the blonde whispered.

“You know me, and far more than most do in the world,” Belial whispered, “Yet I don’t know you. You are…?”

The blonde woman giggled softly, “Oh, just someone who hates when things are boring and predictable,” she shrugged, “What’s fun about the world if there isn’t just a little bit of,” Her eyes flashed with a devious energy, “Chaos.”

Table of Contents
Chapter 17 l Chapter 18 l Chapter 19 l Chapter 20 l Chapter 21 l Chapter 22 l Chapter 23
Chapter 24 l Chapter 25 l Chapter 26 l Chapter 27 l Chapter 28 l Chapter 29 l Chapter 30 l Chapter 31
Chapter 32 l Chapter 33 l Chapter 34 l Chapter 35 l Chapter 36 l Chapter 37 l Chapter 38 l Chapter 39 l Chapter 40 l Chapter 41l Chapter 42l Chapter 43 l
Chapter 44 l Chapter 45 l Chapter 46 l Chapter 47 l Chapter 48

Fire and brimstone burst into horrific plumes over the desolate canyons, cliffs and hillsides of a barren wasteland.

The cries of many are heard as horrific vestiges of man and beast crawl, fly and meander over the ruined landscape.

The air is hot, thick with fumes and choked with smoke and dust.

High in the far corner, a pile of writhing bodies pulses and drips with blood and sinew.

A pile of corpses, a number of which crushed under the weight of those above, adding to the screams of the damned. Those few fortunate enough to be at the top of this pile, claw and drag themselves out from the crush of bodies.

Hurtling downwards from above, faster than most, is a single figure.

His back shows where a pair of wings once sprouted, his hair a mixed salt and pepper and his face that of a middle aged man.

A tattered uniform covers his body, a golden gauntlet on his right hand.  

He holds this gauntlet clad hand out as he falls towards the stone floor of the Hellish domain.

As he lands, his gauntlet shatters, his arm breaks, and he tumbles haphazardly across the ground.

He lays still for a few painful moments, his breathing heavy and labored before his voice, filled with hatred and vitriol, escapes his thin lips, “...I will make every last one of them suffer for their betrayal.” 

With agonizing slowness the fallen man heaves himself to his knees, his crimson red eyes slowly focusing on the world around him.

The man is Xyphiel. The former Scribe Lord once known as Kirggary and most recently: former ruler of Hell and Avatar of Pride.

Fallen now from his previous stations, his damned soul smashed upon the rock, Xyphiel struggles to merely stand. His spirit battered, battle scarred, and hindered as he shakily managed to his feet.  

“I will…” Xyphiel coughed up a glob of blood before continuing his tirade, “Claw my way up from this pit…” Xyphiel cursed at no one in particular, “And I will exact my revenge!” He wheezed in anger.

“Will you, now?” A condescending feminine voice called from behind him before the sound of feet landing dainty on the stone nearby caught Xyphiel’s attention.

Xyphiel turned to see a surprising sight.

Standing before him was a woman, her black angelic wings sprouting from her back proudly.  Her hair was black, with streaks of red, her eyes emerald green.  Her lips were blackened as well, and she wore a rather smart blouse and set of pants.  Her feet clad in leather boots with a short heel, the soles metallic in nature.

As she approached him, the click of her metallic boots on the stone grew clearer to Xyphiel’s ears.

Xyphiel grinned mischievously, “Well well… is that you, Saint Dinah?”

“Very funny,” Dinah snapped as she strolled towards Xyphiel, her eyes narrowing the crows feet on either eye folded ever so slightly.  She stopped less than half a meter from Xyphiel, looking him up and down, “You look like shit, Xyphiel!”

Xyphiel grinned through his pain, “I don’t recall you being so vicious the last time we met.  It’s oddly refreshing”

Without much hesitation, Dinah slapped Xyphiel across the face hard enough to send him to one knee.

As Xyphiel fell to his knee, Dinah let out a satisfied sigh, “That felt far better than I imagined it,” she said as she flexed her fingers.

Xyphiel’s shattered gauntlet rose to his cheek as his arm painfully healed from his tumultuous landing. Xyphiel’s face had fallen briefly, but his wry grin quickly returned, “You’ve grown feisty.” 

Dinah lorded over Xyphiel’s form as she regarded him with nothing but contempt, “You’ve not changed, I see.  At least none for the better.”

“I cannot say the same of you,” Xyphiel said as he stood back up, looking her over, “...Why does it seem you are so much more attractive this way?”

Dinah’s face cracked a wry smile as she cocked her hip to the side, “Of course you’d find me more attractive…” her smile dropped as her ire returned, “I’ve taken on our daughter’s sins.  Such things you found so attractive.”

Xyphiel scoffed slightly, closing the distance between them, “...So you mean to tell me you know all the naughty things Rachel and I have done, and have taken them on yourself?  No wonder you seem so enticing now.”

Dinah looked Xyphiel in his eyes as he drew closer.

“I must admit… I am feeling something of a rekindling of our previous engagement.  Do you feel the same?” Xyphiel asked.

Dinah averted her eyes, “...I would lie if I didn’t feel some level of attraction to you, as always, Xyphiel.”

Xyphiel closed his eyes and moved in to kiss her, only to open them in pain after Dinah had slammed a dagger into his groin.

Xyphiel cried out in pain before Dinah covered his mouth with her hand.  Xyphiel’s hands moving to hers, unable to budge them one centimeter. 

Dinah growled, twisting the blade, “Yet it still seems you struggle with the concept of consent!” Dinah pulled Xyphiel closer to her by his mouth so she could whisper in his ear,  “While I wish this was more satisfying, it somehow rings hollow.  It should give me no greater joy than to see you suffer at my hands for once!  Yet… Even as I see this dark dream come true… it too is naught but ash in my mouth.”

Dinah let Xyphiel fall forward, the dagger now in his hands as he pulled it from his crotch, “Damn you, woman!” Xyphiel roared in pain as he fell to his knees again.

“Rather late on that bit, Xyphiel,” Dinah said flippantly as she pulled out a cigarette of sorts and wrapped her blackened lips around it.   The end ignited as she inhaled, pulling blackened smoke into her lungs.   She blew a stream of dark smoke from her lips directly into his face, “I suppose every aspect of this place is to be unfulfilling.  But, then again, what more did I expect?” She turned to Xyphiel, “We are in Hell, after all.”

“So this is my punishment?” Xyphiel growled as he pushed past the cloud of smoke around his face, “Being abused by you for all eternity?  Whilst you yap at me?”

Dinah’s upper lip quivered in anger as she looked down on him.  She stormed over to him, picking him up by his shoulders.  Her sharp nails dug into his flesh as she glared into his eyes with utter disdain, “Your punishment?!  I cannot even begin to explain what you deserve… What ought to be done to you!” Dinah hissed, her rage giving way to her eyes watering, “...What should be done to you, to make up for the pain you’ve caused.  All the lives you ruined.  The suffering you propagated.”  Dinah released Xyphiel, turning from him and taking another drag from her cigarette as she wrapped her arms around her own shoulders, her wings wilting.

Xyphiel heaved a frustrated sigh, staggering towards her, “What are you seeking?  An apology?” Xyphiel’s eyes narrowed on Dinah, “It was you who turned your back on me!”

Dinah looked ahead as Xyphiel ranted behind her, her sorrow slowly returning to a neutral and indifferent expression.  

“You who abandoned me!  Who labeled me as unforgiven!” Xyphiel spat, “If you had aided me in breaking that vile curse on me, or at least on Sume, then I wouldn’t be who I am today!  It is entirely your fault any of this ever happened!”

Dinah tossed the cigarette aside after a final drag of it, “Never the one to blame, are you Xyphiel?”

Xyphiel narrowed his eyes on her, growling to himself.

“Are you rather finished?” Dinah asked as she looked over her shoulder.

Xyphiel remained stoic.

“Good,” Dinah said firmly, spreading her wings, “You have an appointment.”

“Oh?” Xyphiel chuckled, “Where?”

Dinah pointed to a large blade-like ivory tower in the distant sulfury haze, “The Tower of Pride, of course.”

Xyphiel looked to where Dinah pointed, walking to her side, “Well… I do suppose I should take my rightful seat upon the throne.”  Xyphiel turned to Dinah, “Since, I take it… Lucifer is no longer here?”

Dinah wordlessly offered Xyphiel her hand.

“Oh?” Xyphiel chuckled, “So you’re not the one in charge, I take it?” Xyphiel asked.

“I never said I was,” Dinah narrowed her eyes on his hand, “take my hand.  The less I touch of you, the better.”

Xyphiel took Dinah’s hand, she quickly flapped her dark wings and soared into the air, without giving him so much as a warning to her abrupt take-off.

Xyphiel grunted in pain as his arm was wrenched from its socket.  He held on tightly to his bicep with his other hand, glaring up at Dinah, “Foul woman!  How dare you!”

Dinah let a cocky smirk cross her face as Xyphiel’s eyes narrowed on her.

“Oh… You think that this will go without reprisal, wench?!” Xyphiel barked at Dinah.

“As a matter of fact,” Dinah said without even casting her eyes to Xyphiel, “I know it won’t.”

As the pair soared over the once overcrowded landscape of Hell, there was a noticeable drop in the population.

A scant few demons roamed the infernal planes, and as the pair flew over the Fields of Lust, they appeared all but vacant.

Xyphiel’s eyes scanned the smoldering ruins, “What’s become of the souls of the damned?  There should be legions of them…”

“A shift in management,” Dinah spoke firmly, “Worry not.  All will be revealed to you shortly.”

As the pair neared the ivory Tower of Pride’s topmost point, a large balcony could be seen at the top of the tower’s peak.  

Xyphiel turned to Dinah as they grew closer to landing, his arm having finally returned to its socket, although painfully so. 

Xyphiel looked Dinah over, and considered a different approach as he took stock of his surroundings.

“Dinah… I understand you feel that I hurt you.  But if not for my actions, then you never would have had our child.   Search our daughter’s memories of our time together… Of the pleasures she and I shared.  Certainly you must have some feelings towards me.  You must understand my reasoning for how aggressive I was with you.  The betrayal I felt?  As far as I was concerned*, you* were the sole cause of my fall.  But if you search her memories you will certainly see I was a much more tender lover to our Rachel,” Xyphiel reasoned.

“You were a tender lover with your Daughter,” Dinah recoiled with disgust.

“Yes,” Xyphiel said with a sly grin, “But now our daughter’s sins are yours.  As such… You can certainly reminisce upon them, yes?  Perhaps… Together… Consensually the two of us could accomplish great things.”

Xyphiel’s feet touched the balcony first, Dinah still holding his hand as she landed gracefully ahead of him.

Dinah turned back to Xyphiel, appraising him critically.

“You said you weren’t the Queen of Hell,” Xyphiel smiled wickedly, “But you could be.”

Dinah smirked, her hand still holding Xyphiel’s, “Is that so, Xyphiel?”

Xyphiel moved closer to her, “Yes.  I can make it so.”

Dinah scoffed, “I see why the Avatar of Pride clung so well to your feted soul, Xyphiel. Even now, you are still full of Pride,” she chuckled, “Perhaps that’s where She gets it from?”

“Who?” He asked, his eyebrow raised.  Xyphiel's body has nearly recovered completely from his initial fall, even his most recent injury felt slightly less painful as he spoke.  Though his strength was returning, he did his best to hide this fact from Dinah.

“Come, Xyphiel,” Dinah offered, “The Sins await.”

Xyphiel’s lip lifted into a sneer as he followed after Dinah, “Traitorous swine… I’ll see they have their comeuppance.   Has any one of them run afoul of you?  I highly doubt one of them and you share any similarities.”

“All but one,” Dinah spoke, not to Xyphiel, but out loud as she walked towards the grand and imposing entrance around the mighty balcony.

The grandiose opening had tattered gossamer veils around its oblong entrance, stretching almost one hundred meters into the air, and twenty five meters across.  From the outside, nothing but darkness could be seen.

“Then join with me Dinah, and we’ll turn this nightmare into a dream the two of us can share,” Xyphiel said with a grin as they passed the threshold of the entrance.

Xyphiel paused as he took in the six figures that were set before a massive set of stairs stretching high up into the darkened ceiling.

The figures were kneeling when Xyphiel and Dinah entered.

But as they approached, five of the six figures rose from their kneeling positions.  

The closest to the door was the demon Mammon. His eyes had changed, strangely.  Wisps of yellow rose from a pair of golden spheres which sat nestled in his eye sockets.  Silvery chainmail adorned his massive off-white wings, while he wore a tight wool-like shirt with a tail-coat, giving him the appearance of a grand duke.  While his pants and boots mirrored a more military fashion.  

Mammon had several golden and platinum bejeweled piercings along his lip and eyebrow as he narrowed his golden yellow eyes upon Xyphiel, “Well… Look who finally arrived.”

Xyphiel’s eyes narrowed on Mammon’s, “I thought the eyes of Greed burned red.”

“Pardon me for wishing to no longer share something with you,” Mammon grinned, his tone turning to ridicule as he mockingly bowed, “Lord Xyphiel.”

Astaroth chuckled, his fiery orange eyes flickering as his hulking form loomed nearby, “Seems you hold more enemies here, than friends. Perhaps you were a bit too greedy during your brief time as our Lord?” 

Astaroth’s armor was darker than Mammon’s.  The heavy plate was blackened by ash and flames on both his shoulders and gauntlets.  Though along the breast plate, nearest his mouth, stains of black appeared far more like drippings of fluids.  The steel and black complementing the amber gemstones set into his belt and gauntlets.

Astaroth’s wings were gray and covered in rusted and worn chainmail, the wings appearing almost too small for the mighty bulk of the avatar of Gluttony.

Xyphiel narrowed his eyes on Astaroth, “Oh?  If I recall, I devoured you, after you failed us.”

Astaroth’s smile grew to reveal his yellowed teeth, “There is only one failure here, Lord Xyphiel…” Astaroth’s orange eyes shifted to a figure across from him, “Though, that number might be larger, given our current company.”

Astaroth’s eyes were fixed on Asmodai, who turned to greet Xyphiel.  

Asmodai’s wings were as black as ever, his full demonic armor had been restored.  The Ram and Bull heads on either shoulder.  The salivating mouths of the armor appeared to grin tauntingly once they regarded Xyphiel.  Though now the eyes within burned with a pulsing blue.

Even Asmodai’s armor, where normally tabards of crimson had been adorned, now hung with cyan and cerulean hues.

Asmodai gave a dismissive grin to Xyphiel.  His deep voice greeting the fallen ruler in a laugh as his now blue eyes fixed upon him, steam rising from them like dye dropped into clear water rather than a vapor.

Xyphiel glanced at Asmodai as he was addressed, “...You?  You’re Asmodai.  You were wrath.  What is this?  What has changed?”

“Much has changed,” Asmodai chuckled, shaking his head, “I have left my anger behind, though my lust burned all the stronger.  To the point as such, Lust found it suitable to reside within me,” Asmodai grinned, “While I have regained my place as a Prince of Hell.”

Xyphiel growled, “One whom I am sure could serve Hell well.”

“As always,” Asmodai bowed.

“I do believe Lord Xyphiel is out of the loop,” a woman’s voice called from beside Mammon.  She towered over the others, nearly eight meters high herself.  Her large black horns rose above her head, with blackened skin across her body.  A dress made of massive dark green draconic scales ran down her body, making her appear like a tall and looming serpent.  Green flames flickered within her sockets as she looked down upon Xyphiel, “Xyphiel! My, do you seem unimpressive from up here.”

“Zelletia…” Xyphiel hissed, “I gave you all you have!”

Zelletia’s clawed hand moved to her chest as she bent forward slightly, “And yet… it was not enough, now was it?” Zelletia said with a wide grin, large teeth on full display as she swished a serpentine tail behind her, scaled wings shifted along her mighty body.

A flash of red light caught Xyphiel’s eyes as he turned to see the face of a woman Xyphiel knew as Bella, glaring at him with contempt.

Bella’s black and gold dress was pressed firmly to her half human, half demonic body by a tarnished rose gold corset.  Her black hair and horns flecked with rose gold jewels which flickered with the red flames flashing from her eyes.  Bella’s mighty black wings, although wrapped in rose gold chainmail, glittered in the light like glass.  Her lip lifted in anger.

“Ah…” Xyphiel grinned to Bella, “Speaking of those who owe me.”

Bella took a step forward, a black cloven hoof lined with a rose gold shoe clacking on the floor.  Before she could advance further a hand reached out and stopped her advance.

Bella’s ire had shifted to the figure whose hand held her back.

A weak bluish aura surrounded the kneeling man as he smiled weakly, looking ahead at nothing in particular.

“He,” the man’s soft voice echoed through the halls, “is not yours to punish,” Belphegor reasoned, barely moving his mouth as he spoke.

A deep laugh grew from Astaroth, who stood to Belphegor's left.  Orange flames licked at his empty sockets as he turned to Xyphiel.  Astaroth’s figure towered over Bella and Belphegor, dwarfed only by the mighty Zelletia’s stature.

“Indeed… Lord Xyphiel has quite the promises he fell short of…” Astaroth growled, “so few were devoured… And yet I do admire his hunger for power.”

“So, I have your respect, at least, Astaroth?” Xyphiel asked as he lifted his eyebrow.

“For what that respect is worth,” Astaroth chuckled as he stepped aside.

Xyphiel looked to Dinah, then to all the Lords of Sin around him.

Dinah shrugged, taking a step back.

Xyphiel walked past all of them, moving to stand before Belphegor who remained knelt.  “So… You are still loyal, Belphegor?” Xyphiel grinned, “The only Sin who gave me their power willingly.”

Belphegor looked up to Xyphiel meekly through a gaunt and wrinkled face.  He wore simple robes, his hair was unkempt, and he appeared as if he was only recently awoken from a long slumber.  “Loyal?   I do not believe you understand, Xyphiel.”  Belphegor looked around the room, “Loyalty here is nothing.  There is none.  Fealty is earned only by the ranking of power.  Those who have power, in Hell, earn their following only due to a path of least resistance.  No Loyalty exists here.”

“Is that why those I previously chose to take your roles were removed?” Xyphiel asked.

Mammon chuckled, “La Cruz was always mine, when I returned the entity of Greed sought to return home, and as such La Cruz had no choice but to release his claim.”

Asmodai grinned, “Lust chose me, once Khairunisa had proven an unworthy vessel.”

Xyphiel’s eyes moved to meet Zelletia’s green ones, “And what of you?  Beelzebub should have taken your position, yes?”

Zelletia grinned, “Seemed he lacked my disdain and thirst for power… Envy is mine,” Zelletia’s fiery green eyes glanced around the room, “But now that you’ve finally arrived, I suppose we can conclude our last bit of business.”

Xyphiel nodded, “Yes… Seems you’re a sin short.”

Dinah looked to Xyphiel, “Are we now?”

“Unless I am not in my world, and I sit in some alternative reality’s Hell,” Xyphiel proposed, “I am confused as not so long ago each of you were dragging me down into Hell… Yet I fell alone.”

Bella scoffed, “Alternate reality?  We should be so lucky.  No, Xyphiel, this is the world you were born in.  The one we all were born in, and bound too!” She growled. “Your judgment was deferred, for a time,” Bella explained as she turned towards the stairs before her, “For us, It has been 23 years since you were defeated.  For 23 years we have waited in Hell without your influence or your ego,” Bella turned to Xyphiel with a scoff, “It was rather liberating.  The rebirth was truly a sight to behold,” Bella said, her hand upon her chest as she looked upwards at the dark above them in reverence.

“Rebirth?” Xyphiel scoffed, looking around, “Explain.”

“All was remade,” Belphegor said in disappointment, “Reality, which had nearly broken and turned to void?  Mended,” Belphegor lamented, “So it continues… this dreadful existence known as Creation.” 

“But without me… You couldn’t remedy that issue, now could you?” Xyphiel boasted. “You were waiting for this day, yes?  For the New Lord of Pride, to return to his absent throne?”

“Who said that the Throne of Pride was absent?” A feminine voice bellowed through the air.

Xyphiel turned to Dinah, who merely pointed to the top of the mighty staircase that was previously shrouded in darkness.

There a glowing set of violet flames slowly descended towards the other six sins.

A small imp fluttered down to the base of the steps from the top.  His red skin and small horns were pristine, his form wrapped in a formal black tuxedo, as if he were a butler.  He cleared his throat, announcing, “All kneel, for the Lord of Pride, and all of Hell descends!”

Xyphiel’s eyes lifted up to follow the two violet flames as they slowly descended from the darkened throne.  

Xyphiel could see from the corners of his eyes all around him as the other sins knelt.  His lip curled as he saw this show of fealty. “Who would dare steal my throne…?” 

Stepping down from the darkness was a small girl, no taller than 168cm, her hair was long and black, a twisting crown of silver thorns woven through her hair.  Her lips were thin and pale blue, her burning eyes flickered with violet light as they tracked Xyphiel.  

Her wings were black, and had no form of armor wrapped around them as the other sins did.  The dark angel’s clothing was regal.  A black bolero jacket wrapped around her upper body, a pale violet shirt fitted firmly beneath. Under the jacket a small silver waist cinch and a number of petrified wood and silver necklaces around her neck hung down to her chest.  

Only her fingers were exposed, displaying black fingernails, sharpened to points.

Her legs were clad in long blackened leather boots which laced from her ankles to her thighs, with matching satin pants.  A small belt with intricate silver and violet buckles held them up.

“Steal?” Her voice moved through Xyphiel like an icy chill, “I inherited it, Father**.”**

“All rise for Eve Hippolyte, Lord of Pride,” the imp turned to Xyphiel with a toothy grin, “And Queen of Hell.”

Xyphiel scoffed, “Evangeline?” He snarled.

“Eve,” Eve hissed as she narrowed her eyes on Xyphiel, “Father. About time you finally arrived.”

“Finally?” Xyphiel quipped, “I died mere moments ago, and these lackeys claim you’ve waited 23 years.  What treachery is this?!” 

“Time, as you experience it, matters not,” Eve quipped as she stood at the base of the steps which led to the Throne of Pride, “What matters is what is to happen now that you have arrived within my domain.”

Xyphiel chuckled, “Eve… have you forgotten what you signed?” Xyphiel said with a smug grin, “Did you forget, whilst you sat here biding your time, that I own your soul?!” Xyphiel reached out to Eve with his golden clad hand, the ruined metal of the gauntlet squeaking, dangling from his wrist and fingers as he closed it upon her chest within his vision. “Now, Give me the power of Pride, the title of King of Hell.”

Eve remained unphased by Xyphiel’s command.

Zelletia’s chuckle was the only sound filling the room.

Xyphiel glared at Zelletia, “...What?”

“Oh… Xyphiel…” Zelletia’s voice lilted, “You should be more familiar with soul contracts than that, yes?”

Xyphiel narrowed his eyes upon Zelletia.

“Where are your wings, Xyphiel?” Zelletia asked as she lifted an eyebrow mockingly.  

Xyphiel reached behind him, a panic on his face for a moment before he realized his wings were gone.-

“Transubstantiation before death,” Asmodai chimed in, “Means Transubstantiation forever after death… unless you of course, can gain back your power through other means.  Although, it doesn't mean your previous contracts are returned to you.”

Xyphiel glared at Eve, “I am aware how Hell works…” Flames sparked around Xyphiel, “If you will not relinquish the power I seek yourself, then I shall seize it from you!” Xyphiel’s body was soon wreathed in flames as he dashed towards Eve.

“Oh, Honestly Father…” Eve bemoaned, exasperated by Xyphiel’s stubbornness. She did not move as he dashed towards her, “Did you think you held some form of power over me?”

A scraping sound of glass on glass was heard, and in a blur of red and black Bella appeared before Xyphiel, her hand gripping his neck as Xyphiel’s flames surrounded both of them, causing neither any harm.

Bella’s fiery red eyes fixed firmly on Xyphiel’s, a look of pure rage burning into Xyphiel as she held him firm.

“Belvanna,” Eve said as she walked towards Xyphiel, looking up at him, “I need not your hand to stay him.”

Belvanna narrowed her eyes, burning with ruby flames, upon Xyphiel, “He is not worthy to be felled by you, My Queen.”

Eve turned to Belvanna with a shrug, then to Xyphiel, “Father… It seems it’s my task to deal with you for the foreseeable future.  Do follow me, if you would.”

Xyphiel struggled in Belvanna’s grip, speaking shortly, “Bel…vanna?”

“I chose a new name when I reclaimed the title of Lord of Wrath here in Hell… My father had named me Bella, and he is only partially responsible for my rise.  So, I decided a change in decorum was required,” she smiled to Xyphiel, “Do you like it?  I had considered others but… Belvanna had a lovely ring to it,” she said with a wicked grin.

Xyphiel grunted as Belvanna and the other sins took to the air, her grip still firmly around his throat.

Xyphiel could see the Tower of Pride vanishing into the distance as they flew outward and onward.

Dinah flew a not-so-short distance away from the Seven Avatars of Sin as she followed behind.

Xyphiel struggled, attempting to speak, “What is it you plan to do to me?”

Belvanna chuckled, “You’ll find out soon enough.  Be patient,” she taunted, “You’ll have all eternity with it.”

“Belvanna,” Eve chided.

Belvanna’s fiery eyes focused on Eve, “My apologies, my Queen,” she grinned, “Of course… no spoilers, yes?”

Xyphiel lifted an eyebrow as the odd quip from Belvanna.  In all the time he knew her as Bella, never had she shown anything he’d consider a sense of humor.  A self entitlement that made her cocky to taunt her foes, certainly.  But not an ounce of playfulness that he could recall.

But that sort of quip to him sounded familiar, and eerily so.  

Xyphiel struggled for a moment before his eyes fixed on Belvanna’s wings.  The feathers appeared like black glass.  Wings that were unique, he had only seen them on one other angel before.  

“...The Science Experiment,” Xyphiel thought to himself. 

Belvanna’s fingers dug into Xyphiel’s flesh as they flew, passing over the burning landscapes, “Shh…” Belvanna chided, “Your mind is on full display here.  Best keep such musings to yourself.”

Xyphiel’s eyes scanned below, noticing a smaller population once more.  “So… How many were destroyed?  The legions are all but gone.”

“The Guardians saw fit to give most a second chance,” Dinah informed, looking at Xyphiel, “Some made the same mistakes again, others chose to remain here.  Belvanna, for instance, has no faith in humanity’s ability to redeem themselves, so she opted to remain with us.  Asmodai and the others made similar decisions, as did a small handful of demons and fallen… But far more have decided to take the Lord’s offer of redemption and been reborn in a new world.”

Xyphiel hissed, “A new world… As if it will be any better than before.”

“It is lacking you,” Dinah quipped, “So by that measure alone, it is already a marked improvement, Xyphiel.”

“Say sayeth you, Dinah,” Belvanna quipped, “We can work on unmaking it going forward,” Belvanna’s red fire flickered in her eyes, “Finally.”

The Avatar’s of Sin and Dinah landed near a large plain, overseeing a massive chiasm in the distance, no more than 500 meters away.

Xyphiel grunted as Belvanna thrust him to the ground.  Xyphiel tumbled in the dust, grunting in pain as he rolled from the thrust.

“Oh dear…” Belvanna said, raising her hand mockingly to her mouth, “Did I let you down too hard, Lord Xyphiel?”

Xyphiel growled as he got to his feet, dusting himself off, “We can dispose of the pageantry…” 

Asmodai chuckled, approaching the edge of the chiasm, his deep blue wisps flashing to Zelletia as he looked upon the eternal void, “Bring back memories, Zelletia?”

“Yes, of more desperate times.  I debate whether or not you did me any true favors, to be honest,” Zelletia mentioned as she looked at the sins around them, “I see even Belphegor decided to attend.”

Belphegor walked slowly, his hands behind his back, hunched over slightly, “I was promised nothing, after all,” he said with an overly sweet grin, “Of course I would be here.”

Mammon turned to Xyphiel, “To be fair, I expected a bit more of a fight… But I suppose you are in the state you were,” Mammon chuckled, “Defeated.”

Asmodai chuckled, “And to think… You had all our power at your disposal, and still, you failed all those years ago.”

“Mere moments ago, to me!” Xyphiel motioned to Eve, “Surely you all cannot be so easily fooled!  That in mere moments my daughter claims the throne and yet all of you kneel before her?!  Allow me to fight at my former prowess and I will take her place in an instant!” Xyphiel demanded.  “She ruled over you in the blink of an eye!”

All were silent until Eve spoke, “Twenty three years have passed since the day you failed the demons of Hell, and were defeated by the forces of Heaven.  Do not think that the sins you see before you have not tried and failed to usurp me, Father.  Your arrival is only auspicious in one regard.”

“And what regard is that?!” Xyphiel bellowed.

“It heralds the next phase of the rebirth,” Eve said flatly, “The time when we are no longer bound to allow the Goddess’s plan to run unhindered by our designs.”

“Designs?” Xyphiel asked, walking towards Eve.

Eve nodded, “There can be no Good without Evil.  Nite proved that, for when there is no evil to measure against good, otherwise good people do horrific things.  Without a moral compass of what is devilish or angelic, people often treat each other well in good times, and viciously in bad times.  Heaven has had time to prepare… and now that you are here, it is time for that peace to come to an abrupt end.” 

Xyphiel chuckled, “Eve… If it is war with the Heaven you prefer, then I can assure you, you need me! Allow me to help you.  They may have thwarted me once, but you and I together?  I am certain we can bring the Heavens to their knees.”

Xyphiel looked to the sins as they each began to laugh.

Xyphiel glared, “So, what then?  You have a myriad of torment for me?” He scoffed, “Go on, every sling and arrow hurled at me will only empower me to destroy each and every one of you!” Xyphiel glared, “I have an eternity imprisoned alongside all of you!”

The laughter of the Sins remained before Eve lifted her hand to bring them to an instant silence.

Eve’s violet eyes turned to Xyphiel, then straight ahead. 

The Sins all stepped aside, allowing Xyphiel forward.  

Xyphiel looked at them all quizzically, but slowly made his way past them.  

As Xyphiel passed Eve, he took a few more steps towards the edge of the Chiasm, only for the ground to shake and roll.

Xyphiel jumped back, though no one else reacted as the ground shook and the sands burst upwards.  

As dust rained down, the sight before Xyphiel was that of a massive snake-like creature.  It had four scaled arms with massive black and green colors.  The upper body was that of a woman, her shapely and massive form covered in scales.  Though her mouth was exposed, the remainder of her face was covered in a thick bone-like mask with tribal symbols etched across it.

Xyphiel glared at the mighty creature as he heard a female voice speak.

“Do not give up hope yet, little one… Listen to the Mother of Demons before you seek absolution…” the massive figure lowered their face towards Xyphiel for a moment, “...Oh.  It’s you.” The serpent woman looked to Eve, “Has it truly been twenty three years already?”

Eve nodded silently.

“Does that mean that I can…?” the serpent woman whispered.

“Your instructions are to be followed to the letter,” Eve said, narrowing her violet eyes, “Your time safeguarding your young has now officially begun.  Do not interfere more than discussed.  Do I make myself perfectly clear, Lilith?”

The Serpent woman, Lilith, nodded, “Perfectly, My Queen.” Lilith bowed.

Asmodai looked up to Lilith as she slithered away, “Mother…” Asmodai called out.

“Yes, Asmodeus?” Lilith called back, almost hopeful.

“I hope you fail,” Asmodai said, his eyes looking forward. 

Lilith scoffed, and slithered down beneath the sands.  

“Free passage to the physical realm… and you send that bleeding heart?” Xyphiel said as he turned to Eve, “I can see you’re already preparing them for failure.”

Mammon’s lips curled into a smile, “Oh Xyphiel… there is no more loss for us.”

Xyphiel’s face fell, “What?”

Belphegor sighed, “Yes.  Seems we will persist regardless… Our tasks are as they have always been.  Unending…” Belphegor shook his head.  “In this regard, Xyphiel… I do envy you.”

“He really does,” Zelletia chuckled. 

Xyphiel lifted an eyebrow, “Why would you envy me?”

Eve approached Xyphiel, “I’m afraid your destiny has ended, Xyphiel.  The only fate that awaits you is what is beyond that chasm.”

Xyphiel turned to see a dark chasm which didn’t have a bottom.  It stretches downward and onward, the darkness unlike any Xyphiel had seen before.  “What?” 

Almost unlike any he had seen before.  

Xyphiel’s face fell, “...Wait, no.” he turned to Eve, Xyphiel’s face of pride and contempt cracked a moment, “Is that… the Abyss?  You couldn’t… wouldn’t cast me in.”  Xyphiel chuckled nervously, his attempts to hide his growing fear failing.

Eve’s eyes turned to Xyphiel, “I can, and will.”

Xyphiel balled up his golden gauntlet, turned and tried to run from the edge, only to find his feet sinking into the ground as light blue flames licked at his hips, “Release me!” Xyphiel cried out.

“How unfortunate…” Belphegor’s voice called out, his eyes fixed on Xyphiel with a silent and burning rage.

Xyphiel’s eyes frantically turned to Belphegor.  Xyphiel was shocked as the Avatar of Sloth showed an emotion other than indifference.

“Even though you claimed to strive for a return to entropy… You cling to existence.  Your goals were never absolution.  You deceived me,” Belphegor hissed, his bluish eyes producing a flame for the first time Xyphiel had ever seen.

Xyphiel struggled to escape, but as he did Eve backed away slowly.

“On the subject of entropy,” Eve said as she and the other sins backed away.

Rising from the pit was a black and blue mist, filling the area with a scent of the sea and dense fog.

“What is…” Xyphiel started to ask before the vision of a lithe girl surrounded by decaying sea life and saltwater floated near him.  

Her eyes were closed, but her pale skin and dark soaked hair, as well as the black clothing she wore with etchings of dark runes gave Xyphiel the cues he needed to identify the figure.

“...Meri,” Xyphiel whispered, his voice catching in his throat.

In a song, Meri’s voice lilted through the fog, “Hello Daddy….” she opened her eyes, revealing two blackened orbs, “I have such wonderful things to show you.”

“NO!” Xyphiel roared as black tendrils of shadow ripped out of the chasm and wrapped around him, “NO! MERI DO NOT DO THIS! EVE! DINAH!  FORGIVE ME!” Xyphiel’s voice called out in horror as he was dragged towards the Void.

Meri’s laughter filled the air as the tendrils pulled Xyphiel deeper.

“You’ve so many friends down below you’ve disappointed…” Meri sang softly, “They have so much to talk about… for so long… So many voices, Daddy…” Meri moved her face near Xyphiel’s ear, “Yet they’re so very quiet…”

Xyphiel screamed, begging incoherently as he was dragged away.

Dinah turned from the sight as the other sins watched on emotionlessly.  

Meri’s laughter reached a crescendo accompanying Xyphiel's screams before they were soon both gone forever. 

Belphegor heaved a sigh, “And so ends the mortal upstart.  Lucifer’s greatest failure, Xyphiel.”

“Good riddance,” Zelletia said, spreading her wings, “I can attest that Xyphiel has been disposed of, the Old Ones are satiated, for now.  Are we all in agreement?”

The other sins nodded.

“Then, My Queen, with your permission I request to take our leave.  As the armistice is now over, we have much to do,” Zelletia declared

Eve nodded, “Indeed, you are all dismissed.”

The sins all flew away, aside from Belvanna, Eve, and Dinah.

Dinah sniffled, turning to the chasm.

“Do you mourn him, Grandmother?” Eve asked, her voice no longer carrying the weight of her authority.

“Do I mourn Xyphiel?  The man who raped me and befouled our daughter?” Dinah sniffled, shaking her head, “No.  I mourn the loss of the man he could have been.”

“We saw but an echo of Kirggary Misho,” Eve explained.

“No.  Not even that echo,” Dinah sniffled, looking down into the abyss.  “The Guardians provided me with two visions, Eve.  One was where we are now.  Of destruction levied by Xyphiel should our rejection come to him and he meet our rejection with wrath.  But the other?  The proper vision…” Dinah whispered, sniffling. 

Eve and Belvanna looked to Dinah silently.

“He was my soul mate,” Dinah said as she dried her eyes, “He and I were to have Rachel, and she would be the Metatron.  Together we would live out our days in happiness after Xyphiel atoned for all his sins…” She shook her head, “I mourn that.  I have always mourned the loss of my love, in that Xyphiel destroyed my heart, my Kriggary, forever!”

Eve glanced to the Abyss, then to Dinah, her authority returning, “I do still need you, Grandmother.  In the coming centuries.” 

Dinah nodded, “I am aware.  I will not fail you.  Now, I think I’ll take my leave as the others have.”

With that, Dinah spread her wings and took flight.

As Dinah flew away, Belvanna moved towards Eve, approaching the precipice of the abyss.  Her hand gently placed on Eve’s shoulder, “We’re alone now.”

Eve nodded, “Good.”

Belvanna’s wings opened and wrapped protectively around Eve, “...It wasn’t hard for you?  Disposing of your father?”

Eve shook her head.

“Even with all your Grandmother said?” Belvanna asked.

“This was my plot from the moment Meri and my mind converged all those years ago,” Eve explained, “The dark knowledge that tainted me.  The true nature of the void and darkness, conveyed to me, corrupting my mind…” Eve’s voice trailed off.

Belvanna lifted an eyebrow, folding her wings and stepping back from Eve, “So then, what’s the grand scheme of it all?”

“My new destiny,” Eve looked out, “Whether intentional, or if I gazed too deeply into the vision provided to me by the Guardians, I don’t know for certain,” Eve turned to Belvanna, “The Guardians are not the sort to make mistakes.

“On that you and I can agree to disagree,” Belvanna said, her fist clenching, “I still feel my conception to be an egregious error.”

Eve sighed, “You have your place, Belvanna.  The Guardians' vision showed me the steps to take to lead me here. Why do you think I sold my soul to Xyphiel?  That I prevented him from harming Xei?” Eve looked out at the now distant Tower of Pride, “It was to lead me here.  To this goal. To grasp this seat of power for myself.” 

Belvanna frowned, “If you followed the vision provided, are you not following The Guardian’s design?”

“In some ways… Yes,” Eve heaved a sigh, “Their plan required me to kill my mother.  That, I will admit, was hard.  I think that act alone hardened my heart more than anything else I had to do.  Though it was necessary to bring my Grandmother to Hell to prepare the way for me.  I knew my mother would go to Heaven, so in a way it was a kindness.  It was the only way to unlock Zepherina’s full potential.  The only way I could be destroyed without being transubstantiated was if Zepherina destroyed my entire physical body.” 

Belvanna smiled warmly to Eve “I am well aware of your machinations,” Belvanna glanced around to ensure no soul was within earshot, “Sister.” Belvanna chuckled, “Why do you think I betrayed Xyphiel?  I knew you were here, lying in wait,” Belvanna explained looking over the Hellscape towards the Tower of Pride.

“Did you?” Eve paused, “Then, do you think that Rachel and Zepherina do not recall me because I deviated from The Guardian’s original plan?” Eve asked. 

Belvanna paused, “Small details which caused your plan to unfold slightly differently could have caused that.  Maybe Ragna wasn’t pleased with your deception?”

“Or your attempt to devour Zepherina,” Eve added, turning to Belvanna.

Belvanna shrugged, “Did that truly alter things for the worse?”

“No,” Eve said, “It didn’t.  And to be honest, it is rather pleasant having a deeper connection to you, Belvanna,” Eve turned to Belvanna, her burning violet eyes sympathetic, “The world above treated you far too harshly.  Your anger, your wrath, was more than deserved.  Truly, the Avatar of Wrath could never have passed to anyone after it found its place within you.”

Belvanna lifted an eyebrow, “So, must it be kept secret still?  Our link?  Your plot?”

Eve nodded, “Yes. That link between Zepherina, you and myself is something to remain between the two of us.”

Belvanna smiled, “Yes… From her I received a sister.  From me Zepherina received-” Eve shushed Belvanna quickly.

“Speak not of it,” Eve snapped, “That will come in time.”

“All will come in time,” Belvanna said as the pair walked from the chasm, “We have all eternity now, and even if it might be a filthy virtue,” Belvanna’s eyes flashed with a pulse of red flame, “I have patience now.”

Table of Contents
Chapter 17 l Chapter 18 l Chapter 19 l Chapter 20 l Chapter 21 l Chapter 22 l Chapter 23
Chapter 24 l Chapter 25 l Chapter 26 l Chapter 27 l Chapter 28 l Chapter 29 l Chapter 30 l Chapter 31
Chapter 32 l Chapter 33 l Chapter 34 l Chapter 35 l Chapter 36 l Chapter 37 l Chapter 38 l Chapter 39 l Chapter 40 l Chapter 41l Chapter 42l Chapter 43 l
Chapter 44 l Chapter 45 l Chapter 46 l Chapter 47

Zepherina

It’s been very hard to keep my thoughts straight, lately.

It’s why I was meditating in the basement of the Capitol building.

I’ve been reading through my own journal entries because I feel like these days it’s more consistent than my own memories. That is why I started taking the notes, after all. 

But, even if the journal is a disorganized string of ramblings, it is slightly better than my own head, sometimes.

What prompted all of these thoughts? Oh, right. Everyone is waking up. The last one seemed to be Demond.

I know that’s both good and bad.

When the battle had been finished, and we had our moment of victory, I was shocked when my Mom appeared.

Standing there with her bident, a bizarre look on her face as she looked at us. Sorrow, mourning and expectation.  

I thought I was going to just get a pat on the back and my hair ruffled as she congratulated us on our victory.

I recalled falling to the ground, my strength draining from me. My body became younger, shrinking. I saw the towering column of light behind Mom. I thought I was dying along with the world.

I mean, I was, sort of. But remade, not dying.  

Once I saw the light rush towards me, my next memory was waking up in bed in my 8-year-old body and talk about being shocked.  

I was a kid again!  

Mom and Momma came by and explained what was happening to me and I was pretty pissed.

I remembered everything, I didn’t have a ‘predesigned’ life, as Mom called it. I was just starting over again, from 8-years old.

Lucilia, on the other-hand, was aged up.

She was four years old.

Okay, maybe not the biggest age up, but that’s where we started.

Ragna, my Mom, said the Guardians gave Her a task. She was to shepard all the damned souls of Hell towards redemption.

In exchange, She was going to have time to raise us together, as a family. 

To accommodate this, She went backwards in time to rearrange some events.

For me, it was going through some of the worst parts of my life all over again.

Theodora? She still died. I was just as enraged, maybe more-so, but I was much less brutal than I was before.

I knew what I was doing, where I was going and the end goal.

Ragna said that those who were felled, good or bad, would all get another chance soon - so that I shouldn’t care about casualties.

I’m unsure if her Godhood has made Her more, or less empathetic, but that comment alone was fairly horrifying. 

Penthesil still became the global power.  We consolidated almost everyone and everything, except for China, Russia and Pakistan.

A New Iron Curtain was established for the most part for those states, at least until the Demonic Incursion came along.

But, I’m getting ahead of myself.  

The awakening of those in the Guardian Temple was something Mom told me about.

Wait, now that she’s God, is that ‘Foretold’?  Ugh…

Anyway: People waking up means that the forces of Hell are now consolidated.

Those who remained in Hell, the Lords of Hell and Avatars of Sin? They were told that they had to stay their hand until everyone who was part of the final battle had awakened.

So far, most of them are now awake.

Demond and Rasper were the most recent to awaken. That leaves only Timothy and Sofia… I hope they stay the way they are. That way the devastated forces of Hell wouldn’t be trying anything until Timothy and Sofia remember.

Besides the whole “Hell’s leaders can’t do anything” aspect, Timothy is dating Sofia, and starting to experience a normal life. To some, that sounds boring, but for me it’s such an exciting idea.

I wonder, briefly, what it would be like to have that. To just be normal.

I mean, okay fine, Timothy isn’t normal per-say.

Timothy is still heir to the seat of the Metatron, but he has the luxury of waiting for our Mother Rachel to grow old and pass on before he needs to worry about that.

For all we know, he could have a kid with Sofia by then and pass that burden to the next generation.

As I thought about this, I flexed my hand, slowly removing my gauntlet. 

My palm still bore the Seal of the Scribe Lord, or the Seal of Solomon. Whatever you’d want to call it, there it was.

Etched ominously into my palm, like a brand, taunting me.

It’s why I couldn’t be the leader of Penthesil after the Demonic Wars finally ended. I knew I’d give that up to Lucilia thanks to meeting myself in the Tower of Mourning, but now I knew why I had to give it up.

It’s my job to protect the world. To be its defender, not its leader.

A title that comes with great personal risk and a gnawing temptation of power.

I closed my fist.  

Kriggary was the first Scribe Lord and he became Xyphiel. It wasn’t instant, it was slow and gradual.

I looked up to the massive seal that lay dormant under the statue that was all that remained of Kriggary Misho.

It was quiet here and I seemed to be the only one who could enter this section of the Capitol building. It was a sanctuary where I could reflect in private, a luxury these days.  

Lucilia can’t see it and she can’t see down here. She says I ‘Disappear’ whenever I enter the Sanctuary, like the Guardian Temple.

Within the Sanctuary and the Guardian Temple, Lucilia can’t see. Lucilia complained of this to me once, or let it slip, that even with our mother Rachel’s help, she couldn’t see.

Personally, I think this has to do with Vael. Vael’s not too keen on technology, and despite Lucilia’s best efforts, all attempts to open communications between The Guardian Temple and Penthesil always failed.

Well, failed or resulted in stern warnings from Vael to the tune of: “Only the worthy or lost may enter the Temple. To permit those whom are not chosen to seek those who are within, is heresy.” 

The only exception seems to be my mother.  Rachel, of course, would never be one to give up her nanities. Even when taking on the role of Metatron, she said that they would enhance her abilities.

Mom even tried to convince her, giving her a couple of years with us as a family before, finally, the injury came that would lead to our momma having the Nanite procedure.

While she was certainly more humble than I recalled, she was still Momma. Queen Rachel Hyppolite of Penthesil.

Granted, Momma wasn’t brutal like she was in my previous memories. She never killed anyone and the law that anyone could challenge the Queen for her throne with a battle to the death was never made real.

The Queen of Penthesil had real respect, thanks to our grandmother. I still never got to meet her, by the way.

It’s said Ragna came much sooner in this version of reality, and so Ragna became Empress of Penthesil, even before I was born.

Still, an assassination attempt is what started the whole war with Penthesil and the rest of the world proper.

There were certain events Mom told me I could not change. Theodora had earned her place in the Ageian Fields, because of that, her death couldn’t be undone. It sucked, but… I knew when she was going to leave.

I made the most of the time I could with her.

You’d think that would make things easier, right? No. Not in the least.

I think that’s why I got as angry as I did.

Knowing that in death I’d never get to see Theodora again, that she’d be beyond my reach forever.

My mom, as a note, was very helpful in this. For her, she’s lost countless friends and those she’d considered family, some who she’d never see again.  

Even now, as the stand-in for the Guardians, or God.

I slowly stood up, looking at Kriggary, “Time to get going. I’ll stop by to visit again soon.” I whispered softly.

I was unsure if the statue could hear me. If there really was anything left of Kriggary. Did that tiny sliver of him that I pulled from Xyphiel burn away when he made the Seal?

I couldn’t be sure.

Whether the warm peace I felt here was just my own emotions or if it stemmed from Kriggary, I wasn’t sure.

Personally, I didn’t need to know.

I turned and made my way up the stairs.

“I should have known you would be down there,” Lucilia’s voice echoed in my mind.

“It’s either there, or the Temple, little sister,” I responded.

“We are speaking prior to this event, yes? I’d hope I could get your attention, at least for that long,” Lucilia complained.

I sighed.

Lucilia was every bit my sister, in that she was the full fledged daughter of Ragna and Rachel.

So, every personality trait I found insufferable in my parents, plus insecurities of a young adult, had been rolled into one.

It didn’t help that, despite growing up with her as a child, I still had my adult mindset and memories.

The age gap was pretty clear, is my point. “I am very confident you can handle this, because I know you. I’m on my way, of course. No reason to panic.”

“I am not panicking!” Lucilia countered, clearly panicking. 

This was going to be Lucilia’s first time addressing the nation and the first day I would announce the end of Martial Law and the beginning of Lucilia’s administration.

Despite everything she had, she was nervous.

“Are you in your small quarters?” I asked. That would be the small container that Lucilia would rest in to perform her simulcasts, as I called them.  

Our mother Rachel had told Lucilia about the dangers of replicating herself, so the chamber’s main point was just to allow Lucilia to have her consciousness reaching out to multiple places at the same time.

Well, to us it seemed that way. For Lucilia, with a brain mixed with nanties that had grown with her, and were beyond anything even my Mom Ragna could cook up, it was just her doing a lot of tasks all at once. 

“...Yes,” Lucilia admitted.

By the time she had done-so, I had reached Lucilia’s room and found her in the large cylinder.  

The front was a frosted glass, the rest all brushed steel reaching from the floor to the ceiling at a very slight angle.

“Mind coming out?” I asked.

Lucilia’s cylinder opened with a hiss, a flood of fog which cascaded across the floor and multiple LEDs, beeps and hydraulics powering down.

“I don’t see why I cannot just do the announcement from here,” Lucilia’s voice called out as she stepped gingerly out from the vessel.  

Lucilia was barefoot, though her body was covered in a form fitting bodysuit from her ankles up to her neck.

Her shoulders and arms were bare, Lucilia’s black wings slipped out, glinting with an iridescent shimmer as her long red hair swung down around her face.

I smiled at her as her violet eyes shifted from the swirling, crawling set of nanites to what some would consider normal iris’s.  

“Welcome back to the real world there, Neo,” I chuckled.

Lucilia rolled her eyes, “What is with you and classic movies?”

My eye twitched slightly as she jabbed at my age, “Some things are timeless, Lucilia.”

“Yes yes, Tempora mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis,” Lucilia said facetiously, walking towards her closet, “What’s the proper attire?”

I smiled, “Whatever you think is proper, you’re going to be Empress.”

She fretted near the closet as she went through her options, “What did Mom wear when She was Empress?”

“Times change, huh?” I chuckled.

Lucilia glared at me, arms crossed, “You're the one insisting I do this in person! I could just do it remotely,” she scoffed as she turned to the closet, “Like I always do.”

“Oh calm down,” I walked over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder, “Pretty sure Mom wore whatever She wanted,” I grinned a bit, recalling some of Mom’s flashier outfits. The armor paying homage to Alexander the Great was always a favorite of mine.

“You are maddeningly unhelpful,” Lucilia griped, “You’re supposed to be my big sister… I could use some sisterly advice!”

“Now who's quoting old movies?” I snickered as I  walked over to her and hugged her, “Settle down.”

Lucilia froze for a second, sighed and hugged me back.

“That’s my advice,” I said, smiling at the much shorter Lucilia. She took after my mother Rachel, heightwise.

Lucilia rested her head on my shoulder, “...Okay, so, I’m not panicking but I am nervous.”

“Explain the difference?” I asked, smiling down at her.

Lucilia rubbed her exposed bicep and looked to the floor, “...I’m not afraid. Does that make sense? I’m not scared but I’m… worried? Excited? I don’t know how to explain it.”

“You just never expect it to really happen, couldn’t imagine it even though we planned for it for years and now that it’s happening you’re feeling a bit anxious, that’s all,” I said, trying not to diminish Lucilia’s misgivings.

Lucilia was normally very analytical. I mean, why wouldn’t she be? She’s got advanced cybernetics.

She told me once that I had a cold or something because she detected a ‘biological virus incursion attempt’. Then spent the entire day ‘reinforcing’ her immune system.

Seeing this much raw emotion from Lucilia was rare.

“But I knew this was happening! Why is it right now, mere hours before we go out there, that I am so… flustered?!” Lucilia complained.

I laughed, “Because you’re not a machine?”

Lucilia looked up at me, her eyes shifting to their nanite infused state, “Really?”

“Yes, really. You aren’t. You have some machines in you, but that’s not what defines you,” I smiled, “It refines you, slightly.”

Lucilia closed her eyes, opening them again to appear normal, “...Thank you.”

“Anytime. Now get dressed, okay?” I grinned at her.

“Okay,” Lucilia sighed, turning to her wardrobe, “One crisis at a time…”

“And do not simulate the effects your outfits will have on specific demographics,” I advised her, “Just wear what you want.”

Lucilia nodded, her eyes scanning the wardrobe meticulously, likely against my suggestions.

...

I stood at the Capitol’s massive balcony, before a massive crowd of reporters and citizens of the Empire.

Mothers, daughters, citizens and soldiers all.

I cleared my throat, “It’s been several years since the demonic incursion and I know that we all lost a lot. But I’m proud to say, with the efforts of our esteemed soldiers, the cooperation of our religious leaders, and the diligence of every citizen of the Empire, we can finally declare the war against the demonic forces, over!”

The crowd reacted, cheering, flashing photos as the cameras rolled. I simply smiled.

“As the war is over, so is the Martial Law I imposed, under authority of my Mom, Empress Ranga, forever Her soul rests in power,” I said, giving the crowd a moment to pause.

I could hear a large portion of the crowd repeat, ‘May Her soul rest in power.’

Much like the ‘Amen’ of the Empire now. I’d be concerned if not for the fact that, well, Mom was basically God now.

“With the end of Martial Law, comes the return of your local elections and the restoration of statehood for many of the Empire’s Nation States,” I stated concisely. The authority in my tone was firm and I was keeping myself as calm as I could.

I was getting increasingly excited because I had rehearsed this a million times in front of the mirror.

I was about to pull the rug out from the entire population and it was going to be epic. “I am sure all of you expected this announcement. I would also like to announce that I am abdicating my rightful claim as Empress to the Penthesilian Empire's throne.”

There was a long deafening silence. After what felt like forever, growing slowly at first as a murmur and escalating into a roar, the crowd began to roil into a fervor. Yet more cameras flashed, the reporters were all looking back and forth from their notes, staring at me in shock and confusion, as they were forced to draw up questions on the fly.

After a few moments I lifted up my hand to compel the crowd to silence.  

“I am a General and I plan to remain one henceforth. As such, I do not believe my time as the leader of our armed forces will translate properly to managing the Nation States in peacetime,” I explained, my eyes looking out to the crowd.  

The shock on everyone’s face was an odd sort of satisfaction and I realized why Mom always liked her big flashy announcements.

They were fun.

“That is why,” I continued, “from this day forward, Princess Lucilia Hyppolite, my sister, will be crowned as your new Empress of the Penthesilian Empire.”

Oh man, did they start to panic and freak out!

Everyone knew I would announce the end of Marital Law, yes. They were also expecting me to take on the official role of Empress.

No one expected me to give up my power.

I turned to let Lucilia take the podium.

To her credit, she had put on something that was similar to what Mom would wear, but her own style none-the-less.

The armor was light, just a pair of plate shoulder guards. Her coat had five huge brass buttons closing over her left side, starting from the left shoulder and ending in the middle. Mom liked those asymmetrical looks for some reason. The fabric was heavy wool, a dark royal blue hue, along with a simple short collar.  

A small silver chain ran from her breast pocket to the central seam of the coat, hooking just under the third button. Slacks and thigh-high boots seemed to be the normal sort of thing to wear around Penthesil and Lucilia was no exception.  

On her head was an ornate, but thin, crown. Platinum with a smattering of crowned jewels, a tanzanite gem at the center.

Lucilia walked up to me, as she made her way towards the podium.

I hugged her and whispered into her ear, “You got this.”

Lucilia hugged back. After the embrace, she held me at arms length and locked her eyes on me. She gave me a firm nod and a slight smile, before she moved to the podium herself to address the masses.

“My people, thank you,” Lucilia announced to the crowd.  

Many clapped and shouted, but Lucilia continued to speak over them.

“I know that maybe I am new to you. Apart from my relationship to my sister General Zepherina Hyppolite.You know her great work protecting this grand Empire, and our entire world, but little of me. I want to express that General Zepherina will continue to protect us all, that I will be here to manage your matters of state. I will facilitate the elections of your local representatives, the formations of your parliaments and senates, as well as hear all of your wants and desires. I will work to show you all why it is that my sister has chosen me for this all-important role. I promise you that, under my leadership, we shall all find prosperity and peace.”

There was uproarious applause and I smiled as Lucilia gave her first public address.

I heard a door close behind me and turned to see the Guardian Temple door just standing there. 

It was far back from the podium and the balcony where none from the ground could see it. I slowly walked towards it and reached for the heavy handle.

I opened it and stepped inside, finding Vael waiting in the threshold of the foyer for me.

“Greetings, Scribe Lord,” Vael chimed.

I closed the door behind me, “Vael? Did you summon me?”

“Indirectly, yes I have,” Vael informed.

“Who told you to summon me? There’s an extremely important event occurring,” I quipped.

In a contest of ‘who’s the more logical automaton’ I sometimes wondered who would win between Lucilia and Vael.

Both were young, both were highly intelligent, though Vael did often have a stoicism to them that was beyond most.

“Again, no direct order came to summon you and your sister. I made this decision because it was the most likely desire of our Lord,” Vael said, “And to expedite the current visitation, before it causes further complications.”

I was about to say something before I saw Mom walking out with my mother, heading from the Guardian Chambers.

“Mom?!” I shouted, rushing towards Ragna.

Mom smiled and opened her arms to me.

I hugged her tight, squeezing her firmly as I pushed my face into her shoulder, “How long are you here for?!”

“As long as I can manage…” Mom chuckled as she held me.

“Preferably a shorter duration.Your power has grown considerably, My Goddess, and even the confines of the Temple struggle to contain your awesome power,” Vael said, bowing their head, the many eyes on their crows closed in reverence. 

Ragna seemed agitated and snapped her fingers, a pulse of power surrounding Vael for a moment, “I trust that’s sufficient to prevent any damage, yes?”

Vael opened their many eyes, now glowing with newfound energy, “It will suffice for the time being, My Goddess. I shall ensure the Guardian Temple is properly fortified to withstand your might.”

With that, Vael vanished.

“Vael summoned you, didn’t she?” Ragna asked.

“Seems so,” I smiled, “I’m glad she did. How long have you-”

“Just a day,” my mother, Rachel sighed, “So far, anyway.”She glanced around, “Where is your sister?”

“Giving her coronation speech,” I said with a smile.

“Ah,” Rachel said, surprisingly indifferent, “I do hope Vael left the door accessible for your sister as well.”

A few short moments later I heard soft footsteps, “Mom, Mother?!” Lucilia shouted, rushing to Rachel and hugging her tight, “Oh, it’s a little reunion!”

Rachel looked at Lucilia with a small smile, “I heard you just gave a speech…” She looked Lucilia over with a wry grin, “Is that what you wore to address the people?”

Lucilia took a step back and blushed, “Y-Yes.”

Ragna smiled wide, “It’s lovely.”

Rachel, for her part, seemed a bit more reserved, “I do agree… Lucilia, sweetie, I have a few things to talk to you about.  Come, let's leave Ragna and Zepherina to catch up for a bit.”

Lucilia looked longingly at Ragna.

“Go, I promise we’ll have time together, little one,” Ragna said with a warm smile.

Lucilia beamed and nodded, following Rachel into the Guardian Temple Chambers.

I turned to Ragna, “What was that about?”

“Your mother likely wants to discuss some statehood with your sister,” Ragna smiled, placing her hand on my shoulder, “I’m sure there’s a lot to go over.”

I nodded, “Yeah… So, if you’re here for a visit that means it’s about to start up again?”

Ragna nodded as she walked towards the stairs heading downward, “Yes. Walk with me, Zepherina.”

I nodded and followed.

As Ragna walked, I could see the ground under her boots light up, small cracks forming in the material of the Guardian Temple. The cracks healed slowly after each step.

“...I don’t remember that happening before,” I commented.

Ragna sighed as we walked down the steps, “I’m getting more adapted to the task The Guardians gave me… meaning my ability to exist here is quickly eroding.”

I frowned, looking ahead, “Is this the last time I’ll see you?”

“I wish I had an answer for you, Zepherina, I do,” Ragna sighed as we reached the Overlook, the many stars reaching out before us.  

“You must see this all the time,” I chuckled.

Ragna’s eyes scanned the nearly infinite stars before us across the void of space and heaved a sigh, “No, I don’t, actually.”

“What is it like, then?” I asked.

“Everything is everywhere, all at once,” Ragna chuckled, “It’s a terrible way to describe it. Sifting through things takes so long… And to add to the matter, the better I get at it, the further away from time and space I become,” Ragna turned to me, “I'm not even certain how many times I've visited you, since I left you all to begin my service.”

“This is the fifth time, actually,” I smiled.

Ragna chuckled, “To me, it’s the 2nd. So, if I’m behind on things, I’m sorry,” she shook her head, “You’ve probably told me so much but that was, to me, something that would happen later. I came when I did today because I’m trying to prevent another catastrophic event.”

“Like a major flood?” I asked, lifting an eyebrow, “I thought the Guardian Temple Angels handled that.”

“The Guardian Temple Angels handle the works that I give to your mother. From there they prevent things from reaching catastrophic levels, at least on a universal scale,” Ragna sighed, “It’s why what I did to the Temple the first time was so detrimental.”

“The first time?” I asked.

Ragna held out her hand, a sphere appearing. At the center, was a tiny representation of the Guardian Temple, “This is the seed of all creation for this universe. The Guardian Temple remains as the linch-pin that holds it all together.”

I saw cracks form in the Guardian Temple replica within her palm.

“Damage to the Guardian Temple can have lasting repercussions, as a result,” I saw the sphere growing dark in some places, cracks forming along the surface.

“Damage?” I asked.

“When I destroyed the Guardian Temple in my mortal life, I caused this,” she showed me the sphere, “From that point onward, a tear was forming in reality. Slowly growing worse.” 

More cracks formed in the Guardian Temple as it grew dark, with more cracks appearing in the sphere around it.

“Timothy did well to stop it, of course,” I watched the Temple slowly change. Growing whiter, the cracks almost vanishing. The cracks in the sphere did not. “But the damage was done… That was the first thing I had to do. Repair the cracks. It’s why I kept some Angels here and others left.”

“Who left?” I asked, “and when?”

“From here forward, Zepherina, the guard has officially changed hands,” Ragna sighed, looking out to the vast sea of stars. “Uriel has all but vanished. He did so the moment The Guardians stated They were leaving. The Underworld is now managed entirely by my Mother, Persphone. Though, of course, I know she’ll keep Sheol in good condition,” Ragna smiled, the cracks vanishing in the small sphere in her hand.  

“Did anyone stay?” I asked, wondering if the ArchAngels would still be around from here on out.

“To my shock, Gabriel did,” Ragna chuckled, “Though it wasn’t for me. I believe they had someone who wanted to remain, and as such, Gabriel decided to remain here. A Reaper by the name of, Elon.”

“Really? I thought the Angels were loyal to a fault,” I forced a smile, “But, that Gabriel stayed for Elon, that makes sense.”

“Well, I was rather surprised,” Ragna said with a faraway look, “Gabriel was no fan of me, truth be told. They were disgusted with the news that I would be allowed to speak to The Guardians. They had some… chorus lyrics to sing to me as I left them for my audience with The Guardians.”

“But…?” I asked, waiting for the rest of her story.

“But, Gabirel came back to me, apologized and asked to remain in this world. I told them I had no issues and would appreciate their help,” Ragna turned to me, “As a reward, and a show of no hard feelings, Gabriel now holds Michael’s previous position as the ArchAngel.”

“Oh,” I blinked, shocked, “Wow.”

Ragna chuckled, “Yes. As you can imagine, there were some other promotions,” Ragna’s gaze remained set on the stars in the distance, “A certain Reaper now holds Gabriel’s previous position.” 

I smiled, “You mean, Elon?”

Ragna nodded.

“So, the Winter Brothers are both Angels, huh?” I chuckled.

“Yes,” Ragna sighed, “It doesn’t mean everything is going to be easy for you.”

My smile faded, “I know. This is when things are going to get tougher.”

“I need you and the others to focus on redemption. The more souls who go back to The Guardians and to Heaven, the less forces Hell has,” Ragna explained.

“Right…” I sighed, “Mom, what happens when all the souls of Hell are judged?” 

“Neo-Genesis,” Ragna said firmly.

“The what?” I frowned.

“A turning point, spiritually, where all new births will have fresh souls. Those new souls will be made in my image,” Ragna turned to me, “it will be subtle, but a clear shift.”

“So, you can have the new souls worshiping you directly?”  I asked.

“Well, more souls, yes,” Ragna chuckled.

I gave her a quizzical look, “The people of Penthesil respect you, but not many worship you as a Goddess, yet. Do they?” I asked.

“It’s not them… oh…” Ragna chuckled, turning to me, “Right. You’ve not met the others yet.”

“Met the others?” I asked, my curiosity peaked.

“Now, now,” Ragna placed her hands on my shoulders, “All in due time, you'll meet them soon enough,” Ragna smiled at me, “Come on, let's go find your mother and sister, we don't have much time.”

We headed back up the stairs and saw my mother and Lucilia walking towards us.

“Do remember what I said, dear,” Rachel said to Lucilia, “Now, go say hello to your Mom.”

Lucilia nodded and rushed Ragna. Jumping into the air, “Mami!!” Lucilia shouted in child-like glee.

Ragna caught her and spun Lucilia around, “Oh, there’s my little one…!”

I turned my attention to Rachel, “Did Mom tell you She was coming?”

“No,” Rachel said, her eyes fixed on Ragna, “She works in mysterious ways.”

“Mmmhmm,” I shook my head, “What did you tell Lucilia?” I asked.

“Just some advice on how to best handle certain cultures and situations,” Rachel said simply.

“All that in like, a few minutes?” I chuckled.

Rachel’s icy blue eyes shifted into swirls of tiny nanties for a moment as she smiled to me, “Minutes for you, perhaps.”

A chill ran up my spine. 

The nanites always gave me the creeps. How mother and Lucilia could be so comfortable with those things inside them always baffled me.

“So, advice, I guess?” I asked.

Rachel closed her eyes and sighed, turning to face the large angelic statues adorning the foyer, “My only time to escape this place. To commune with Lucilla and see what’s really out there. But yes, advice as well.”

I frowned, “Escape?”

My mother chuckled, “Zepherina… Do you think I wanted this?” She turned to me, her face falling, “My mother had a plan for me. A destiny. One I never wanted. Yet, despite my wants and desires, she foisted it upon me. Even in my death, when she took on my sins to allow me into Heaven, why do you think The Guardians allowed for such a thing?”

I frowned, “I thought because, as your mother, Saint Dinah pleaded to Them and offered to suffer your punishment in your place.”

Rachel scoffed, “I doubt she’s suffering. If she is, I have no pity for her.” She crossed her arms, her wings wilting, “The mortal realm is the last place I wanted to be. I would rather be in Heaven with Ragna, not this place. It’s nothing but a prison for me, made by my mother. I’m certain she knew of this outcome, or at least that it was a possibility.” Rachel's tone had grown accusatory, “Oh, She had no qualms condemning me to the task of the Metatron.”

“Mami, it’s not that bad,” I tried to force a smile, “You get to talk to Mom all the time.”

Rachel rolled her eyes, “No. I hear Her edicts. Occasionally they will come with a comforting message for me, or a pet name, but they are edicts to be enacted by the slowly growing forces of the restored Guardian Temple Angels.” She shook her head, “They’re not even all here yet, by the way.”

“Who’s not all here yet?” I questioned.

“The other Nephilim who will serve as the Angels of the Guardian Temple,” Rachel clarified, moving a strand of long red hair from her face in annoyance.

“I’m still confused. You’re not a prisoner here, you’re the one in charge of the Temple!” I said happily.

“In charge?” Rachel scoffed, “Tell me, dear: Can you leave the Capitol whenever you desire?”

“Well, yes-” I tried to add before Rachel interrupted.

“That is a luxury I do not have,” Rachel growled, “Unlike you and your sister, I am bound to this place.”

“But everyone here has to do what you say,” I added, “It doesn’t seem so bad.”

“A beautiful prison is still a prison,” Rachel countered, “Yes, I can ask Vael to do anything I’d like. Make me a new bed, redesign my chair, produce whatever I desire. But I cannot leave and I cannot speak to all my children.”

That’s when it struck me, “Wait, is that why Lucilla can’t see inside the Guardian Temple?”

Rachel nodded, “Yes. That is Vael’s doing. There’s no distrust, just preventing me from speaking to anyone without officially bringing them to the Temple, under supervision and extreme scrutiny,” Rachel’s eyes locked on mine, “Why do you think an Angelic Construct as potent as Vael was allowed to exist here, despite her mere existence being a paradox?”

I frowned, “I don’t know.”

“Because I required a proper jailer,” Rachel said, her fist clenching, “One even I couldn’t circumvent. Though, I must admit,” she smiled wryly, “It is flattering that I required such a potent and elaborate prison to keep me bound.”

I shook my head, “Mami, you cannot consider this place a prison or your job a sentence.”

“But it is, my sweet daughter,” Rachel’s face fell, “I never wanted this. I wanted to be free. But your grandmother got her final wish. Here I am. Doing exactly what I did not want,” Rachel’s gaze turned to Ragna, “As I watch my lovely Ragna slowly grow further and further away.”

I frowned, glancing at my mom, Ragna.

“She’s different, newer this time, but every other time she changes,” Rachel said softly. “Her concepts of time and space are warping the more time she spends tending to the wounds she inflicted on the universe. The more time she spends remaking the universe, the farther and more distant your Mom grows. This? This is a welcome change,” Rachel sighed.

Ragna and Lucilla were speaking happily and I did notice Mom was far more open and emotional than the last time she visited.

Lucilla was so happy.

“It’s torture,” Rachel hissed.

I turned to her, frowning.

“But,” Rachel said, taking a deep breath, “I know it’s deserved.  My mother took the memories of my sins, yes. But that doesn’t make me unaccountable for them,” she glanced at me, “I’ll tell you an interesting secret, dear daughter.”

I turned to Rachel, my attention fixed on what she spoke to me.

“It’s not God, or the Angels, who reject or keep souls from Heaven,” Rachel said softly, “It’s the weight of their sin. Uriel was a cruel and harsh judge not because he is vicious or spiteful, but because he had to measure against what souls could, or could not, walk across the fields of Heaven.”

I blinked, confused, “Wait, what do you mean?”

“It means it’s sin, my daughter, that keeps us from Heaven. Sin and sin alone that drags us from the highest of places,” Rachel chuckles, “You don’t even have to praise a deity to enter the Heavens. You just need to be righteous, good and remorseful of your ill deeds. Though there was a system in place to more effectively remove sin, it was the sin alone that would damn a soul for eternity.”

“What system removes sin?” I asked.

“Forgiveness,” Rachel said softly. It was the most sincere I had ever seen her. “It’s through forgiveness you can remove sin and nothing else. True forgiveness, by the way, a deep and sincere effort to right your wrongs,” she looked to the large angelic statues, “No one is perfect, certainly. Everyone makes mistakes. But it’s the effort you go through to undo them that will actually save your soul. Not whom you pray to.”

I smiled softly at Rachel. I rarely saw this side of her. “That’s… kind of nice to know, Mami.”

Rachel heaved a sigh, “And a final truth to give you, as your Mom already imparted it to me. You and I share a lost knowledge, it would seem.”

I felt a sinking feeling as Rachel spoke, “I think I know what you mean.”

A more serious tone moved through Rachel’s voice, “One of my sins, it seems, was in raising a child with resentment. A child I do not remember. Either born of Xyphiel or another, I know I cannot, and should not recall, from either of my memories.”

“So, I do have an older sister?” Ever since I spoke to Rasper, I knew there was something off.

Rachel pulled me close, whispering softly, “Do not speak her name, should you hear it,” she glanced at Ragna and then back to me, “And should you hear that name at some point, treat it with fear and caution. Tread carefully. For whatever reason it is, Ragna has said we cannot know of her. If even your Mom is wary, I do not wish for you to cross her path.”

I nodded. An odd sort of De’ja vu came over me as I wondered, briefly, if I had fought this sister before.

I must have. But I must have won. Which would mean that she’d likely be out for vengeance, “I’ll be careful, Mami.”

Rachel nodded, “Be careful going forward, my dear.” She took a step back, “Because with your Mom making Her arrival as she has, it means that the awakening is complete.”

I smiled, “Timothy’s not going to wake up?”

Rachel shook her head, “He will wake up if he is needed,” she glanced at Ragna, “Pray we do not need Timothy or the Avatar of Samael in the future, Zepherina.”

Ragna turned to us, noticing our tone, “Enough of that. Come on, I don’t have much time and you all will have plenty to ruminate on what your tasks are going forward.” She approached me, Her hand moving to my shoulder, “How about a family dinner? I haven’t eaten in…” my Mom paused, “I can’t even quantify it.”

Lucilla smiled, “Kabob?” 

“Lamb sounds nice right about now, actually,” Ragna chuckled, her smile weakening, “Oddly fitting, but nice.”

I smiled as Lucilla, my Mom Ragna and Mother Rachel walked towards the dining area. I felt a roiling mixture of emotions.

Fear for what was to come.

Joy for what I was about to have with my family.

Regret over the friends I had lost along the way to get here.

But one thing was certain in my mind: This was the start of the real work.

Restoring more than just the Guardian Temple. Rather, restoring the souls of the forsaken and the damned so they can be redeemed.

I felt the Seal of the Scribe Lord grow warm in my hand, and I sighed, as I swear I could hear a calm, soft voice speaking to me.

“The Scribe Lord is the protector of Creation. Creation’s protector must have faith, but know more than that, I placed my faith in you, little one.”

I smiled, looking at my hand, the seal hidden under my glove. I walked to join my family, looking at my Mom as the final words of my grandfather, Kriggary Misho, echoed in my ears.

“For what it’s worth, you will always have my Eternal Faith.”

I smiled, looking out at my family as I felt love and hope swell within me, “It’s worth more to me than you’d ever know,” I smiled, “Grandpa.”

Table of Contents
Chapter 17 l Chapter 18 l Chapter 19 l Chapter 20 l Chapter 21 l Chapter 22 l Chapter 23
Chapter 24 l Chapter 25 l Chapter 26 l Chapter 27 l Chapter 28 l Chapter 29 l Chapter 30 l Chapter 31
Chapter 32 l Chapter 33 l Chapter 34 l Chapter 35 l Chapter 36

Xyphiel

“Synchronous! Release Runic Restriction Level 0!” Ragna shouted as her last breath.

I grabbed hold of her throat, lifting her up and glaring daggers into her eyes, screaming into her mind.

“What have you done, sister?!” I hissed into her mind.

Ragna’s only reply was a weak grin, followed by a cough of blood as it oozed from either side of her lips like a cursed smile.

I held my hand over her forehead, “I’ll rip your plot from your mind!”

Before I could pull Ragna’s mind from her dying body, I was slammed to the ground by an immense force.

Everything spun, my ears rang and I found myself thrust to the ground.

My jaw ached and I heard the frantic calls of Zepherina to Ragna.

“Mom!? No! Mom! I’ll save you! Oh shit, I took too long to recover! No, I won’t let it happen, I’ve got you!” Zepherina shouted.

My vision barely cleared as I focused my gaze on Zepherina, lifting Ragna’s listless body into her arms and spreading her wings.

The science experiment narrowed her damned violet eyes on me, pulsing with white and violet energy, “If she dies, I’m going to come back and end you.”

My jaw cracked back into place. I must admit, the little bitch had struck me with a significantly potent blow to the jaw. She had far surpassed Ragna in raw strength. She caught me by surprise, it would not happen again, “When she dies,” I corrected, with a grin, “And who says you’re going anywhere?” I hefted myself back to my feet, now recovered.

Zepherina launched herself into the air.

I summoned up Lucifer’s bow, taking steady aim at Zepherina. I considered merely striking Ragna’s corpse. She was dying, most certainly, but I wondered if there was some horrific sacrifice Zepherina would be willing to make if she could somehow save Ragna at the absolute last moment.

A strike from Lucifer’s bow would lay Ragna’s body completely corrupted and cement her death.

But a strike to Zepherina would hinder her escape and seal Ragna's fate all the same.

I let the bolt soar towards Zepherina, the arrow arching flawlessly towards her chest.

The bolt stopped, unexpectedly, hovering in the air as pink bolts of lightning arced from its tip to the end.

“Pink?” I questioned.

Who’s aura was pink?

Tasha was the most likely consideration, but her powers were not that of her own, she only acted through the divine intervention of God.

I turned to see Timothy standing before me, in his Black Niten Dragon form.

Though something was remarkably different.

One eye was the ice-blue eyes that I had given him, but the left eye was glowing pink, with arcs of that same energy bouncing between it and his left horn.

A horn that was no longer straight, but rather curved and branching, like an elk.

“What have you allowed Synchronous to do to you, Boy?” I demanded.

Timothy spoke with his voice and another.

A woman's voice.

A voice I knew was Sync's, but not the spirit behind it.

I recognized that voice.

I would always recognize it.

“I've brought forth the one who might actually hate you more than I do, Father,” Timothy's voice echoed, but behind the word father, that voice which I recalled eons ago spoke my name, “Xyphiel.”

She spoke it with such venom, such contempt!

I sneered, “Teryn.”

Timothy's light hand rose as the pink energy arced around his body, the more ornate horn radiating with an otherworldly pink glow.

“I will avenge my husband!” Teryn's voice cried out, “Give me back my Kriggary!”

Runes began to glow all around me and I blocked them as best I could as waves of pinkish energy poured out from the runic constructs rapidly forming.

I tried to swing my bow at them, only for the runes to catch and begin to shake violently.

I released the bow, leaping away as it burst into a massive wave of… Rose petals?

The once mighty bow was now raining down all around me as a shower of falling rose petals, the smell of roses and sweet flowers heavy in the air as they did so.

“What is this?!” I shouted, my rage boiling over as I called the Puriel blade back to my hand.

The blade caught in mid-air, my eyes narrowing as I saw something holding it.

Not one thing, mind you, but many small glowing creatures. Tiny little humanoids with gossamer wings and glitter fluttering about them.

“W-what?!” I stammered in shock.

The little sprites chirped and giggled as I rushed towards my blade, only for Timothy to dash forwards, slashing at my face.

My mana blasted outwards, normally enough to blind or disorient, but the glowing runes shielded Timothy.

The pink arcs of energy continued to bounce across his body as more runes appeared in the air.

“Murderer, Charlatan!” Teryn's voice decried, hatred in her voice as she called out, “Give me back my husband's soul and maybe I'll be kind and keep you in a jar within my palace!”

I glared upwards to Timothy, and Teryn, “You damned bimbo, I am your husband! I am Kriggary!”

Teryn let loose a horrific scream which blasted me backwards several meters.

My ears rang as I struggled to regain my senses.

Had I been mortal, Hell had I been less than what I was now, the scream alone would have ended me.

A Banshee's cry.

“How dare you disrespect Teryn, Queen of the Fairies, by claiming you are my dear lost husband!” Teryn's voice hissed, “You are not even an echo of him! Vile, wrathful, prideful monster!”

I rose up, pulling a crimson feather from my wing and dashed towards Timothy/Teryn.

Fairy Queen? What fear should I have for the likes of the Fae! Mere tricksters who prey on mortal children and nightmares. Nothing more!

Teryn thinks she's claimed some sort of throne?! I'll show her the power of what I have claimed over the millennia.

Then I'll reclaim her. My Teryn.

My beautiful wife.

My blade slashed at the ornate horn on Timothy's head, striking it, but causing nothing but a high pitched ringing sound. It rang out like a bell as runes glowed all around the increasingly potent horn.

Timothy's claw rushed towards my throat before I caught his wrist with my hand, keeping one hand on the blade, narrowing my eyes on the glowing pink eye of Teryn's, “Queen of the Fae, quite the rise, Teryn… from the mere place of a priest's wife,” I whispered, “My Wife.”

“You are not Kriggary!” Teryn shouted, Timothy's voice echoing behind hers.

“Let us have this conversation in private,” I suggested pleasantly, casting my mind out into Teryn's.

The world around me vanished and I was surrounded by rows upon rows of towering trees. Their trunks reached so high into the air that the sky was not visible.

Yet no light came from the sky.

Pastel moss and leaves glowed faintly, illuminating the landscape in a gentle glow which beguiled the danger I could sense all around me.

In the trees, I could see tiny specks of light fluttering about. Tree branches cracked and shifted, glowing eyes belonging to unseen creatures gazing down from various branches.

The trees were in nearly perfect rows, reaching out endlessly. The dark forest surrounding me in all directions, reaching out indefinitely.

Not far down one of these rows of mighty towering trees, I saw her, standing there with her beautiful wings, her emerald eyes and fiery red hair.

Teryn's red wings were softer, the feathers lighter and translucent. Upon her head were a pair of large elkish horns.

“Ryn… You look beautiful,” I whispered to her. If I could win her over, perhaps I could regain the love I thought I had lost forever.

“You aren't Kriggary,” Teryn spat.

“I am!” I roared, storming towards her, her mind filled with mighty violet and rose colored trees reaching high into the air.

Rose petals slowly fluttered down all around me.

I approached her slowly, my wings wilting behind me as my hand moved to my chest, “It's me, Teryn. It's your Riggary.”

Teryn shook her head slowly.

“Ryn…” I whispered with a soft smile.

Teryn closed her eyes, turning from me.

“What happened to you?” I asked, astonished.

Teryn scoffed, “What happened to me?!” her voice echoed through the shadowy woods.

I paused my approach, “Queen of the Fae?” I asked, “How did that come about?”

Teryn paused before glancing out of the side of her eye, “Pat.”

I waited for her to continue.

Teryn rolled her eyes, “Pat, my friend. She's Persephone you know. Queen of the Underworld,” Teryn fixed her eyes on me, “Sellenia's birth mother.”

“Ah,” I said softly, “That explains her whole ‘Demi-God’ thing, then. Potent mix, Cherubim and Goddess.”

Teryn shook her head at me.

“Sorry, you were talking about… Persephone?” I pried.

“I came down to the Underworld and Pat caught me. She told me I didn't have to go anywhere if I didn't want to. You hadn't passed yet, so I decided to wait for you. I never submitted myself to the judgment of Uriel and Pat let me stay in the Underworld. Pat declared me ruler of all the Fae and the Fairies took me in as their Queen.”

“It's good to have friends in powerful places, it seems,” I said, approaching her.

As I did, glowing figures descended from the tree canopy and alongside the woods.

Dryads, Fairies, small gnome-like creatures. They were human-like, but their eyes were blackened, teeth like small needles, their skin pale.

“And those who follow me, the Fae-folk,” Teryn moved her hand out, a small faire fluttering onto her elegant and extended index finger. “The kind…” she whispered sweetly to the small chittering sprite.

A snapping of twigs caught my attention as a massive creature slunk from behind a tree. Its eyes pulsing in an eerie glow of crimson, liquid like steam rising from its eyes as they fixed on me.

The creature's body was that of a flayed horse, bits of sinew and muscle flexed in the bright light of its eyes. Where there should have been a neck, however, sprouted the torso of a flayed man. His teeth were also needle-like.

The human part appeared normal, sans the lack of skin and its hands. From the forearm onward, a pair of sharpened spear-like protrusion of bone extended almost a meter and a half each.

Saliva dripped from its maw as its gaze fixed on me.

A Knucklavee, if I recalled the folk-tales.

“...And the violent.” Teryn ended.

“I'm not a child, your nightmares pose no concern to me, Teryn,” I said softly, “Fiendish as it is.”

“Only fiendish to those not pure of heart,” Teryn stated.

“So, rather fiendish to mortals, yes?” I asked.

Teryn grew silent.

“I know your Fae only come to the pure of heart. When was the last time the Fairies fluttered freely in the mortal realm among the pure?” I motioned to the monstrosity looming to my left, “and when was the last time the Knucklavee reaped impure souls?”

Teryn faced me, her arms crossed, “You're one to talk. You're the most impure thing here.”

“They did this to me,” I growled, “I was a priest, remember?”

“Yes,” Teryn snapped, “I remember. A priest who wouldn't have harmed a soul! Now look at you, killing and maiming, with more blood on your hands than anyone!”

“Don't talk down to me about body count!” I roared, pointing to the Knucklavee, “How many nightmares have you unleashed on the mortal world? How many Fae have stolen infants and terrorized humanity? Do not think I'm ignorant of the Wild Hunts, Teryn! They are no kinder than me!”

“No Fae has ever erased an entire world from existence!” Teryn roared back at me, the trees glowing with pink energy.

Every Fae around me grew in strength as Teryn's anger rose.

“My Fae have lashed out against prideful humans, sure,” Teryn explained, “But none that passed Uriel's judgment,” she shook her head, “None who have slain billions. With a B!”

I furrowed my brow, trying another approach. “My dear, this isn't necessary.” I looked around at the radiating trees pulsing with Teryn's aura, “Is this your Underworld?”

“Pat's Underworld,” Teryn corrected.

“It's beautiful,” I smiled warmly at her, approaching her as I held out my hand, “My Teryn… Please, do not fight me. I will leave your Underworld be. I've no quarrel with you, the Fae or anyone.”

Teryn's arms uncrossed, “I'm not selfish like you, Xyphiel.”

“Kriggary,” I whispered.

“No,” Teryn snapped, “You're not him.”

“I am!” I shouted, “Why do you and Sellenia not see it?! Is it out of convenience?!”

“It's out of heartbreak!” Teryn shouted, tears leaking from her eyes, “Because if you are Kriggary, truly and completely…” Teryn trailed off, shaking her head, “Then that means…”

I approached Teryn, the Knucklevee standing back, but still I kept the beast in the corner of my eye. I hugged her and she hugged back. “Ryn…”

“It means you've fallen,” Teryn looked up to me, tears in her eyes, “Completely.”

I dried her eyes, “They took everything from me. Yet, when I came to Them, and put myself at Their mercy, They gave me none,” I hissed, “Was it worth it?! For Them to shun me? I shall destroy everything They sought to create and I will rebuild it better than They could have ever dreamed!” I pulled back slightly, “They took from you too. Your life? Your world? Our son?”

Teryn's face hardened, “They didn't take our son.”

“Yes, They did. Robbed him of a life twice over. First taking his parents, then us. Him, dying on a failed escape pod, alone…” My hand shook, “He didn't deserve that.”

“He died at the age of one hundred and forty seven,” Teryn said firmly.

I paused, “What?”

“He died, with four children at his bedside, in a world you had a destiny to save, but didn't,” Teryn hissed. “Because while he was living a beautiful life, you were out there, killing, raping and warmongering!”

I let go of Teryn, my eyes wide, “...But… that's not-”

“The survivors of Nite and Dei? They lived and they loved and their story continued on!” Teryn shook her head, “But you, too full of hate and anger, you were too busy burning everything down! Throwing a damn tantrum!”

I clenched my fist, “Enough.”

“You could have been there, Kriggary!” Teryn roared, the pink energy pulsing around her, “But you just had to…” Teryn paused, taking a slow and deep breath. The pink lightning died down slightly and she offered me her hand, “...Come with me. Stay with me, in the Underworld. You can be king of the Fae, alongside me. We can live, be happy and maybe… maybe somehow…” Teryn smiled warmly to me, “Maybe… I will find my Kriggary again, somewhere in you.”

My lip moved up into a sneer, “You want me to just give up? After all I've sacrificed?”

Teryn's hand dropped, her smile remained, “Yes. After all you have done, give it all up and come to me. Come home.”

I thrust my hands out, sending a wave of energy to Teryn.

She tried to play my own game back at me, as if I were to be taken for a fool!

How dare she!

Teryn's hand rose up and the energy wave was halted.

I jumped back as the Knucalvee roared, its spear barely missing me as it sunk into the mossy earth below me.

“So much anger and rage,” Teryn shook her head, “I guess that's it then. You have to lose even more before I can get my husband back.” Teryn cast her hand out, flecks of gold whipping out before her.

Once it hit before me, it ignited in pink flames.

“I suppose my only choice is to get rid of you,” Teryn said succinctly, “So that maybe I can keep a tiny part of you in the hopes it grows into my sweet Kriggary again,” she sighed, “Maybe I can stop you, before you end up killing yet another one of your children.”

I slashed at the Knucalvee's spear-like arm, slicing it off at the forearm.

It reared back in pain for a moment before the spear regrew.

Right. I was in Teryn's mind and she was clearly far more powerful than I anticipated.

I had to escape.

“Leaving so soon?” Teryn taunted, “But you just got here. Come on, stay a while, make yourself comfortable.”

A trio of fairies fluttered over my head, gold dust sifting down around me.

I rolled out from under it and let out a massive burst of dark energy.

With that, it was just enough to distract Teryn and allow my escape.

I rolled back, now out of her mind and in the real world. The Puriel Blade had dropped to the ground.

I dove to it, rolling and grasping it firmly in my hand.

I jumped from the ground, moving to impale Timothy, and Teryn, from behind.

I felt a force pull me back, runes shaking in the air all around me.

“Dishonorable bastard,” Timothy and Teryn's voices hissed as I felt myself flung backwards.

I slammed into the wall, grunting in frustration.

Those runes weren't just controlled by Teryn. Synchronous was doing the heavy lifting.

Somehow she went too far and reached out to Teryn.

I considered my options, when out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Arioch.

I swung the Puriel blade in a wide arc at Timothy, forcing them to shield themselves and dashed to Arioch.

Arioch knelt before me as I grew near, “Lord Xyphiel, my Mistress Bella was felled… but Zepherina remains utterly defeated.”

“I'm well aware Zepherina is not dead, you fool! How dare you claim that she is defeated, that damned science experiment has already absconded with the corpse of my sister,” I spat as I saw Arioch lifting up Bella's essence in his hand.

A small gem, the size of a large egg, pulsing with radiant green energy.

“Please, Lord Xyphiel, restore her. My lady shall be a grand asset in this fight,” Arioch said as he offered Bella to me.

I took hold of her, letting another swing of the Puriel blade loose on Timothy and Teryn. I grinned, “Indeed, she will be. Just not as you would like to believe.”

I opened the seal in my palm, pulling Bella's essence in, her power along with it.

“Xyphiel, you traitorous bastard!” Bella’s voice roared in my ears.

“You'll have pleasant company, my dear Bella. Besides, consider yourself in the safest place during the end of all things,” I assured her as I felt the essence of wrath fill me.

I clenched my fist, green energy surrounding my gauntlet as crimson bolts arced across my fingers.

I took a deep breath, feeling my anger redouble and multiply.

My own wife turned against me, my sister, my children, who else could the Guardians choose? I saw Timothy rush out of the dust and debris, runes shimmering on his body as he dashed towards me.

I grabbed his throat with my gauntlet clad hand, grinning wickedly to him, “I'll make it quick, Boy.”

I tried to pull him into the seal, but runes radiated around my hand, protecting his essence.

“Fine,” I snapped, “Then, I’ll do it slowly!” I smashed him down into the ground. Then lifted him up, placing my knee on the ground, ready to break his skull apart.

If I aimed to strike where Synchronous was, I may knock Teryn out of him completely.

Before I could, however, my gauntlet cracked and Timothy leaped away.

I glanced at my hand or what was left of it.

The runes had sliced my hand off, right at the wrist.

Timothy pried my dismembered hand off his throat, showing me the seal on it, “Now, lets see you hold the power of others without this!”

I chuckled, lifting up my stump, my hand reforming.

Timothy's eyes widened as the hand he was holding within the gauntlet vanished.

“Boy… I am Cherubim now,” I chuckled as I flexed my fingers, the crimson seal glowing on the palm of my reformed hand, “You're going to need to transubstantiate me before you can do anything else of merit.”

I cracked the knuckles of my reformed hand, grinning to Timothy.

Timothy took a fighting stance and more advanced runes floated around him. The horn on his right side grew larger, even more disproportionate to the other on his head, as some scales around his eye grew pink.

“Now, enough playing around with you,” I drew the Puriel blade, “I'm over humoring my ex-wife,” I taunted, “Let's send her back to where she belongs, and you, Timothy, can join her.”

…

Zepherina

Mana out, Mana in, Mana out, Mana in…

Ascended forms are a bitch. The form I managed to achieve above that? Extra bitchy. Somehow it was even more taxing when it took damage.

Bella did a number on me, way worse than Eva managed, that was for sure.

I literally had to reform my entire physical body, and to say it was painful would be an understatement.

I could feel every restored cell in my body screaming in confusion and agony.

My wings spread out, I managed to finally push the last bit of oversaturated mana out through pretty much every single pore of my body.

Which, sadly meant I was vomiting Mana for a good ten minutes.

I got to my feet, shaking as my muscles got used to being muscles again. I glanced up at the hole in the ceiling.

“Enough downtime, I got to go,” I only hoped Vael was able to do some good while Bella wasted my time.

I rocketed out of the hole and scanned the area for Mom and the others.

My eyes went wide as I saw Xyphiel holding my mom by her throat, her wings cut off.

I clenched my fist and ascended, flying as fast as I could towards Xyphiel.

I cocked my arm back, and the absolute second I spotted my opening, I slammed my right fist hard into his chin.

The most satisfying point of my life was this moment: laying Xyphiel out on the fucking dirt with one punch! Man, it was awesome!

My arm, however, from fist to shoulder, felt like I had sent a lightning bolt through it. But, it was worth it.

I turned to mom, my eyes wide as I saw blood seeping from her mouth.

“Mom!? No! Mom! I’ll save you! Oh shit, I took too long to recover! No, I won’t let it happen, I’ve got you!” I shouted, scooping her up gently, “Mom, can you hear me?!” I tried to speak to her mind.

“Zepherina? It's so dark,” Her voice called out.

Her eyes were open, but she couldn’t see.

That was bad.

Xyphiel was already recovering from my punch and I glared at him, “If she dies, I’m going to come back and end you.”

I took to the air immediately, knowing I had to get far enough from the corrupted capitol to open up the Guardian Temple doors.

I kept flying, knowing Xyphiel was likely going to try to stop me. I just had to get far enough away to open the gateway to The Guardian Temple.

“Zepherina…?” Mom’s voice called out.

“I’m going to save you, I promise-” I tried to reassure.

Mom’s voice cut me off, “I’m not worth it. Save yourself. Save them. Lead them, please. You must.”

“Not my destiny,” I confessed, “I won’t lose you too!”

“I’m… Proud of you, Zeph…” Mom’s voice seemed to fade out.

“Mom?!” I looked down, her face was still. Mom never used my nickname.

I looked forward, seeing a door appear in the air.

I pushed through it, closing my wings and coming to a stop in the Temple foyer.

Every step felt like pins and needles as I rushed through the foyer, past the massive angel statues and down the steps.

I sprinted past the expanse as fast as I could, making a break towards the fountain.

My heart hammered in my chest as I rushed down the steps, stumbling and barely able to even feel my feet as I rushed towards the Fountain.

Once I got there, I didn’t hesitate.

I jumped in, carrying mom, and submerged both of us in the waters.

Nails screeching on a million chalkboards rang through my ears as the Sanctified Mana purged through my mind, body and soul all at once.

In what felt like an instant and a lifetime, I whipped my head up over the surface, gasping for air.

My heart slowed and I felt a calmness settle over me.

I shook my head, climbing out of the fountain, catching my breath.

I looked at my hands. Empty.

What was I carrying?

Mom!

I turned around and looked into the basin of the fountain.

She floated there, motionless. Her blood seeped into the waters of the fountain.

The blood seeped from her body slowly, without any other movement.

I swallowed hard.

That meant her heart had stopped.

I pulled her out, ripped her chest piece off and started to give her chest compressions, “No!” I screamed, “You’re not leaving me alone! You still have to train me! We still have to defeat Xyphiel!” I screamed as I tilted her head back and tried to blow air into her lungs.

I was met with a mouthful of blood.

I gasped and then spat it out. The overwhelming coppery taste in my mouth was dizzying, but I kept trying.

I was pushing hard on her chest, hoping to get her heart going again. Even as no breath came from her. Just the sounds of my own ragged breathing and heartbeat.

I went to breathe into her mouth once more, only to be met with another mouthful of blood. I spat it out faster and went back to trying to get breath into her.

I was certain I heard a rib crack.

That was fine. Ribs healed. Hearts didn't.

I had to bring her back.

I couldn't let her die.

Even as she grew paler. As the blood pooled around my knees, I kept pushing.

My mother is the Empress of Penthesil. The Ragnarök, The Daughter of Lucifer! She would survive and we would take vengeance against Xyphiel for daring to wound us! I would not let her die like this!

“Zepherina,” I heard a soft male voice call out to me from the stairs, “Stop.”

I turned to the voice, spotting Jorge, “Jorge, good! Help me! I need a towel or medicine! Call Irfan, maybe he has a potion…” I trailed off as Jorge’s face met mine with empathy and kindness.

Jorge stood at the steps, now cleaned up from the battle. His salt and pepper hair was clean cut, wearing his suit and a bolo tie with a small bronze cross on it.

Next to him was Rosalie, holding little Lucilla.

“Zepherina,” Jorge said as he approached me, his hand moving to my shoulder, “She's gone.”

Jorge's hand brought my heart to a momentary stillness. I looked down on Mom, blood trickled from her mouth and nose.

I had never seen my Mom, so sickly, weak and broken.

Her wings were cut, her flesh pale, her once mighty form withered and drained of its strength. She hardly looked like herself.

Death seemed to change the shape of people when it came for them.

My mother Rachel and now my mom, Ragna.

If it weren't for the gentle, yet firm hand, on my shoulder, I would have collapsed. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I tried to come to terms with reality.

Rosalie’s sweet flower framed face, long pinkish petals which appeared as hair looked shyly to my mom and glanced up to Jorge, “Mr. Chavez, why is that lady sleeping on the floor?”

Jorge’s hand rested on Rosalie’s smooth green skinned shoulder, “Little one, take the baby to her big sister, so they can say farewell.”

Rosalie frowned, “Is she leaving?”

“Yes, Little one,” Jorge explained softly, “go now.”

Rosalie padded over to me, handing Lucilla to me gently.

Lucilla cooed as I took her from Rosalie's green hands, making sure to avoid the thorny points on the back of Rosalie's fingers and forearms.

I furrowed my brow, looking between Lucilla and mom’s still form, “S-Sorry Lu. I… I did everything I could. It wasn’t enough.”

“You still have more to do and to offer them,” Jorge said as he knelt by me, “Angels don’t have any will to give up,” Jorge said with a warm smile, “Even ones who might have been outside of God’s original plan.”

I sniffled, cradling Lucilla, “What is God’s plan?” I looked up to Jorge, “It just seems he wants us to suffer.”

Jorge nodded, “It would seem that way to someone who doesn’t understand the difference between the will of God and the will of man,” Jorge explained.

I looked at him curiously as he made the symbol of the cross over Ragna’s body.

“The will of God is that all men follow His laws. Follow His teachings. To make the world He left them a good and prosperous place. But man has free will,” Jorge turned to me, a calmness in His mesmerizing eyes, “That will let them choose. God’s will or Man’s.”

I felt a slight chill run down my spine and through my feathers. I had never seen Jorge like this before. The simple man who helped Timothy run the Guardian Temple. Yet in this moment, I clung to every word he spoke.

“Man chooses wealth over faith. Violence over harmony. War over peace,” Jorge whispered, “And then people blame God for the turmoil they must face.” Jorge shook his head, “God cannot change man. He cannot change what He has already created,” Jorge sighed, pulling a small vial from his coat pocket, “He can only guide them and hope that they heed His direction.” Jorge smiled at me, holding up the vial of dark red fluid. “But even then, men try to knock down doors God has given them the key to. Men shield their eyes from the guiding light, fearful it would blind them. Never shy away from the light of God, it is there to guide you.”

I frowned, unsure where all this was coming from. “Jorge… I don’t know how-”

“Your Mom, Ragna, she has a final journey to take. You brought her here. That was what you had to do,” Jorge placed the vial in my hand, his other hand holding Lucilla firmly in my arms, “Because it brought you here. It brought Ragna here to be collected.”

“Collected?” I frowned.

I turned to Lucilla, who was looking up and to my right for some reason.

As I turned to look at what had caught Lucilla's attention. I noticed where mom’s body was. Now, nothing but her armor lay on the floor.

I looked up further, spotting a massive scythe floating above me.

There, clad in dark robes and holding my mother’s body, barely clothed in her undergarments, was Elon.

Elon’s golden eyes looked down on me silently, as he bowed his head to me, “I’m sorry for your loss. But, Ragna is needed on the other side.”

I watched, shocked, as behind Elon, a massive black Seraphim appeared.

It had three massive heads, four arms and looked down at Elon with one of its many faces.

“Time to leave, my sweet,” I heard the voices of Gabriel whisper.

Elon, the massive vision of Gabriel and my mother’s body vanished, Elon's voice echoing, “I'll see you again soon, Zeph. But, I come not for you, yet.”

I swallowed hard, as Lucilla cooed and whispered, “Bye Momma.”

Tears ran down my cheeks as I hugged Lucilla tight to me. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you can’t see her.”

Jorge’s hand squeezed tightly on my shoulder, “I’d not ask this of anyone else but you, Zepherina.”

I cleared my eyes, and turned to him.

“Give that vial to Xei and Tasha. No matter what condition you find them in, understand?” Jorge requested.

“What do you mean, ‘No matter what condition’?” I asked.

Jorge’s brow furrowed, “Sacrifices need to be made. This time, I cannot be the lamb,” He looked to the vial in my hand as he gently took Lucilla back in his arms, “Tell Tasha that is the blood of the covenant, poured out for many,” he smiled, “She’ll know what to do from there.”

I looked at the vial curiously, turning it in my hand, “This is blood.”

Jorge nodded.

I frowned at Jorge, “Who’s blood is this, exactly?” I asked curiously

Jorge smiled warmly, chuckling as he turned to walk away, Rosalie following in tow.

“I wanna hold the baby again Uncle Jorge!” Rosalie complained.

“Jorge,” I called out, “Who’s blood is this?!” I demanded.

Jorge was half-way up the stairs, “It’s Mine,” He said simply, “It’s always been Mine. Give it to Lady Tasha and she shall make the sacrifice this time.”

I blinked, confused.

Jorge whispered, “The Sundered Child is coming.”