~~Day 123~~

~~David~~

They still had a week to go to reach the spire, but this close to the center of the province, apparently they were in the more 'militant' areas. Less roaming bands looking for easy kills, and more actual members of the military. Case in point: Sazillia.

Sazillia was a fujara tetrad with a thousand demons behind her. A literal thousand, vrats and brutes at the front, gargoyles and satyrs behind them, with some tigers running the flanks. An actual formation. And each demon wore armor, the slabs of black metal bent into smooth shapes that fit their muscles, instead of the misshapen mess most meera armor was. Even the brutes wore some armor.

Sazillia herself was a walking stereotype, with short dreadlocks around her four horns, and hard eyes that betrayed no emotion. Muscular, lean, and a huge scar ran across her neck, as if someone had once tried to slit her throat with a wood saw, but had only gotten halfway. And like Laoko, she wielded four swords--probably just the normal thing to do if you had four arms.

Laoko took the lead. David let her. The two groups faced off.

"Sazillia," Laoko said. "Angels are looking for us. You must hide! This army is too large and will garner attention."

On a dime, Sazillia turned and barked orders at her army. They dispersed immediately, turning into small roving bands that spread out among the red pits and anthills of the terrain.

"Do not worry," the bailiff said, still approaching, but still with weapons in hand. Even with that, the body language looked almost inviting, like she was happy to see Laoko and the others. Maybe not so emotionless after all. "We saw the angels, and they have drifted closer toward the River Styx. But yes, they are a concern." Wow. Sazillia sounded reasonable? Madness. "This close to the capital, many battalions wander the ground, looking for any who might have snuck their way in from the Fields. I think the eyes above will not notice us anymore than the others."

Laoko nodded, but stayed ahead of David, her swords out and two pointing to the side, keeping her swords between him and the bailiff.

"How did you know we were coming?" Laoko asked.

"Scouts spotted you and ran ahead." Sazillia shrugged and gestured back at her army. "Tregeeras can be fast when they want to be."

David looked down at Caera at his side, and she shrugged.

"Hey, I can be fast," she said. "But you won't see me running for days just to get ahead of a group. No thanks."

Perfectly reasonable. Demons hated long distances. David chuckled.

"You have scouts near the Scar?" Laoko asked the bailiff.

"Yes, of course. Say what you want of Tarkissa, he has ambition. Or had, so I am told. You killed him?" She pointed a sword at David.

"Sorta," David said. "Me and the army did. The Scar's under new management, and I'm in charge."

Sazillia tilted her head and laughed. She put her swords away, finally, and stepped forward, leaving her army behind. No one stopped her from getting nice and close, but Laoko and Moriah stayed near her sides as she strolled up to David and squatted in front of him. Damn, that was a nasty scar.

"You truly are unmarked," she said. "Have you come to attack us, the same way the other one is?"

"No." He put up his hands and shook his head. "I'm just passing through. But I'm not an idiot. The other unmarked should head in the same direction I am, but she isn't. I'll probably have to fight her. On top of that, I didn't expect to get through your province undetected." He gestured back to Tatiana. "I brought a negotiator."

One look at Tatiana was enough to make Sazillia laugh. Okay, maybe she wasn't a stereotypical badass G.I. Jane type, but more like a viking warrior woman?

"Tatiana," Sazillia said. "Khazeer will be happy to see you. He's been stressed lately."

"Stressed?" Tatiana asked. "Is it that bad?"

The bailiff nodded. "Yes, it is. The other unmarked has been slaughtering our forces. First she used a strange magic to attack us with Hell herself. But then she changed tactics. Now she warps her own body, and slaughters our forces with strange... growths."

Growths? David froze and looked down at his arm. The arm had morphed, changed on him, when Latia had nearly died. Was that was Sazillia was talking about?

"Strange growths?" he asked.

Sazillia nodded, standing back up. "Yes. Do you not use that ability?"

"I uh... No, I don't."

Everyone in David's crew looked at him, tilting their heads, waiting for more information. He had none.

"That is unfortunate," Sazillia said. "But, as you said, you will fight the other unmarked? And you trust this unmarked, Laoko?"

"I do, very much," Laoko said. "He's come all the way from Death's Grip to defeat the alien invader."

"From Death's Grip? That is a long journey for a demon, let alone a soul. But I suppose with angels, a tetrad as known as Laoko, and even a spire mother at your side, anything is possible." Sazillia frowned, looking down at David and idly running a few claws along her scarred throat. "And the alien invader? I have not seen this monster, only heard of it."

David forced his eyes away from his hand. "Yeah. The invader is the big problem. I have to keep going to put a stop to them, or we all die. That's the journey, but those are the only details you're getting."

Sazillia smiled lightly. "And if I wanted to force more details out of you?"

He didn't flinch. "Then I'd kill you, your army, and keep going. You need me. I don't need you."

The tetrad chuckled. A pleasant sound. She reached out, making Moriah step in closer, but all she did was put a hand on David's shoulder and give it a squeeze.

"I like you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Well, you did it again," Jeskura said, leaning over his shoulder from behind. "Got another pussy for the crew."

"What the fuck, Jes." He rolled his eyes and didn't bother looking back.

The gargoyle laughed and gestured ahead at Sazillia leading the group with Laoko. "You heard her. She likes you. Nail her with your aura and fuck her."

Caera growled up at Jes and hip-checked her, sending the gargoyle teetering and almost knocking her over. Which earned some angry clicks from Daoka, and she hopped over, stomping her hooves as she pushed the huge tiger. Or, tried to, but Caera had to weigh at least thrice what Daoka did.

David smiled. The girls bickering was a good sign, considering how precarious the situation had grown. Surrounded by demons they didn't know, and a lot of them, while being escorted to a spire. Last time this'd happened, Azailia had tricked them.

But even surrounded by a thousand demons, David wasn't scared. Moriah and Tsila had insane reflexes, and they'd sound the alarm if the demons went on the attack. They'd defend him, and Laoko would drown the area in hellfire before he'd even have the chance to say 'don't'. Not to mention the other girls were all capable of fighting, especially Caera and Jes. And even without them, David could fight the small army off, or at least defend himself if it came down to it. Killing a thousand demons would be tricky and might summon the invader, but he could do it.

Maybe it was that confidence that had the demons not even looking at him, or at least not with the usual hunger demons had, often joined by drool and teeth-licking. Far as David could tell, the demons had no intention of trying to kill him or his girls, or Tatiana and her crew, either. Tatiana was probably off-limits at Khazeer's order.

So, all in all, it was a quiet walk through Hell's tortures. He almost wished for a fight, so the remnant screams wouldn't seem so loud.

"I'm not fucking anyone else," David said to Jes. "Or, I mean, I don't plan to. If you wanna throw another succubus orgy at me, for political reasons, I guess I'd be down with that?" He put up his hands before Moriah could comment. "But that's not the plan."

"You have enough women for a lifetime," Moriah said, glaring back at him with her red eyes.

"Agreed! So, yeah, I'm not gonna fuck Sazillia. That's even assuming she'd say yes. Just because she likes me doesn't mean..." All the girls stared at him, eye-rolls implied. "Okay, yeah, I get it. Still, not happening." He reached down and slid his hands into Caera's short dreadlocks, earning some quiet rumbles from her as the tiger walked beside him, enormous tail slithering behind her.

Pegasus looked at Caera in that sideways way horses did, and came up on David's other side. He pressed to him, shoulder rubbing against David's hip and wings hooked snug to his back. He was getting better at figuring out where his wings were, like a dog finally learning it had a tail.

Latia left her fellow Las and walked beside Pegasus, too. "Can ride him yet?"

David laughed. "Not yet. And besides, you're still wearing your armor. You might hurt him. That shit's heavy."

The red goblin looked down at her meera armor, a few chunks of bent black metal haphazardly strapped snug over her chest and one leg. "Not that heavy."

David reached down and grabbed Latia's axe, unhooking it from her hip. It had to be at least twenty kilos, and he groaned as he struggled to keep it upright. Not super heavy, but borderline impossible to keep straight when all the weight leveraged onto his wrists, and he dropped it. Latia laughed.

Acelina laughed too, walking behind them. A far more seductive, almost evil laugh.

"You are but a weak boy, David," she said. "Your pet is a hellbeast and can handle much more than you."

Axe back in Latia's hands, the little La nudged up against Pegasus's side, goblin smile of sharp teeth gleaming.

"Soon, right? He's looking bigger already! Soon."

"Sure," David said. "Soon. Assuming he doesn't buck you off. I'm not going to force him like some goort. This isn't the Scar."

Caera nodded, walked closer to Pegasus, and brushed her side against his, a giant tiger walking beside a Great Dane dog. Pegasus took the invitation immediately and frolicked ahead, literally, jumping side to side as he ran. Chuckling, Caera chased Pegasus in a slow circle around the crew. David watched, and he knew he was smiling.

Sazillia slowed down until she walked near David, and she looked back at him, and the small, winged horse coming to a panting stop beside him.

"That goort is... unique," she said. "How old is it?"

"A bit over a week now," David said. "Crazy how it's only been that long, and he's already grown a bit. And walking and running around."

Using 'he' earned an eyebrow raise from the warrior woman. "And how did you gain it? Or, him?"

"Hell birthed him for me."

"Birthed him for you?"

David nodded. "Yeah. Why?"

"The other unmarked has a creature of her own. A fassila spider."

"Oh. Oh shit." It'd been a while since they'd run into a giant spider, and the one they'd dealt with, they'd found already dead in the Grave Valley forests outside the Scar. It'd been six or seven meters long, from leg to leg. Much, much bigger than fallo spiders. "How big?"

"Four times the size of any fassila spider I have ever seen. She rode it on a throne of bones."

David stopped. The girls stopped in a moment, and everyone else a second later. Even the thousand demons drifting around them, trying to look casual to any spying angels above, slowed and stopped.

"She has her own pet?" he asked. "A unique pet?"

"Yes. An enormous creature, with other features not seen on fassila spiders. Strange spikes. Strange eyes."

He stared up at the bailiff. "You've seen it? And the unmarked?"

She nodded and rotated her shoulder. "I ordered the retreat. I was the one who lost our border to the spire ruler Morgana's push. I saw the other unmarked's power firsthand, but not her transforming abilities. Those I have only heard of." Growling, she looked ahead and flexed her fingers, grabbing something that wasn't there. "And now, here I am."

She started walking, and David followed her. Like a herd, the group resumed.

"You got demoted or something?" David asked.

"Ha. I suppose. This is Hell, unmarked. We have no rank. But Khazeer thinks perhaps Zaavras will do better." Shrugging, she stuck her arm out to the side and flexed it again. Maybe not reliving a memory, but working the arm? An injury, maybe? It'd have to have been an insane injury for her to not heal yet.

"Zaavras, the other bailiff? He gonna be a pain in my ass?" David asked.

"Perhaps. He is strict. Khazeer is also strict. But if you work with him, he will work with you."

David sighed with relief. "I gotta say, you've been a lot more cooperative than I expected."

Sazillia shrugged and looked back at him again, grinning. "This is the Red Pits. We are not the mindless, roaming tribes of Death's Grip, the squabbling factions of the Grave Valley, or the Scar's politicking volas. We are strong. We are strength. And we do not let our appetites rule us. We have warred with Navameere Fields since the beginning, and whoever lets weakness blind them will be destroyed."

"That's... a unique stance to take. So far, every demon I've run into has been pretty Darwinian," he said. She raised an eyebrow. "It means survival of the fittest."

"Ah, yes. There is truth in that philosophy. And we embrace it. But instead of letting random chance kill the weakest of our kind, we do it ourselves."

He gulped. "Eh?"

"Those who cannot handle training, die."

"I'm afraid to ask--"

"If they fail in basic training tasks, we rip out their hearts and feed them to demons worthy of continuing their training."

"Yep, I was afraid of that."

Sazillia chuckled. "Afraid? That is life in the Red Pits! And the Navameere Fields."

Sighing, David looked back. The Scar province was just a blur, the two colossal mountains blending into the haze of fire and ash of Hell's air.

"I don't suppose you know about Apollyon and Abaddon?" he asked.

Sazillia tilted her head. "I have heard the names before. The Old Ones?"

"Yeah." David counted off on his fingers. "There's Malphas, Molech, Beelzebub, Asmodeus, Belial, Astaroth, Azazel, and then those two, Apollyon and Abaddon. And those two are going to get in my way."

Sazillia almost tripped. It was oddly funny, seeing a ten-foot-tall woman of muscle, with clawed feet and a tail, nearly fall.

"What?" she asked.

Sighing, David shook his head as he looked at his nine raised fingers. "Old Ones are involved. And I've been told Apollyon and Abaddon are up ahead. You say the Red Pits and Navameere Fields have been fighting since the beginning?"

"Yes," Sazillia said, staring down at him.

"I was told Apollyon and Abaddon have been fighting, are still fighting, and I bet that's what's happening, what you've been doing all this time. Fighting their war."

It was a big gamble telling Sazillia all this stuff. As long as she didn't know where he was going, it was probably fine, but most demons thought that the Old Ones were dead and gone. If Sazillia was in a similar boat to Tarkissa from the Scar, making deals with the Old Ones for power, telling her he knew about them could backfire. Khazeer might try the same thing.

But from the way Sazillia moved, she blared the honorable -- if viking-ish -- warrior stereotype so loudly, even he picked up on it.

"That is why the Red Pits and Navameere Fields fight? Because... the Old Ones do battle?" she asked.

"Maybe," he said. "If my guess is right, they're under the ground, manipulating events. They are strong, very strong, with the same abilities to manipulate Hell like I can. It wouldn't surprise me at all if they've been manipulating the two provinces since the First War, but I have no idea. Navameere--that reminds me. You got any idea where Navameere Fields got its name?"

Caera immediately came in closer and stood up, walking on her hind legs. "Anything, Sazillia? We know it was a woman, and she had to be from the First War, but that's all we know."

Sazillia shrugged. "Old runes in the ancient language we can't read may speak of it, but no. I know nothing. What use do we have for old stories?"

David smiled, but didn't say anything. He'd already shared enough secrets.

Caera groaned. "History is valuable, Sazillia. Everyone should learn history. Otherwise, demons just keep making the same mistakes. What's the expression, David?"

"Those who ignore history are doomed to repeat it. Paraphrased." He smiled at Caera and resisted the urge to drown her in adoration. There was just something so damn hot about a girl with a hobby.

Sazillia laughed and clapped David on the back with one of her many hands. "A philosopher!"

"Uh... I guess?" He didn't have the heart to correct her.

"Hell has little room for philosophers. We do what we've always done. Fight, kill, eat, and devour the souls the portal leaves us."

"Times are different now," Caera said. "Things have to change. We can't keep doing what we've been doing for a billion years. So we need to know things. Anything we can learn about history is knowledge we might need."

Sazillia shrugged. "You're asking the wrong demon, tregeera. Maybe Khazeer will know more, but I doubt it."

"That's fine," David said. "Just show me any sort of ancient relics or places you have, and I'll handle the rest."

Pegasus ran ahead and did something he'd never done before. He ran up to a remnant crawling her way out of a red pit, and squashed her. He trampled her. Pegasus had a bit of bulk on his frame now, and with a heavy hop, landed directly on the remnant's head. Hooves crushed skull, and the remnant died in moments.

"Pegasus?" David said. Pegasus didn't respond. He hopped around a bit more, breaking some of the remnant's torso bones before leaning in and tearing at her skin with his sharp teeth. "Pegasus!"

Pegasus froze and slowly looked David's way, bits of flesh hanging from his teeth. His eyes were wide. Confused, or shocked, maybe.

"Pegasus, what the fuck?" David marched up to his pet and pulled the skin out of his mouth. A delightful new memory: the texture of dangling remnant skin clinging to his fingers like plastic wrap. "Don't touch the remnants! Don't--"

"Leave it be," Laoko said.

David snapped his head around and glared up at the tetrad. "What? Why?"

"It... he, is a hellbeast, David. Hellbeasts kill remnants. They scavenge them for essence and resonance."

"More than that," Tatiana said, the succubus joining the conversation. "We've tried raising thousands of goorts, and we've learned a few things. If you don't let them hunt remnants, they get anxious and violent. And clumsy. They learn how to move and hunt and kill on remnants."

David closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was easy to think of his precious baby horse as a precious baby horse, and not a hellbeast creature that would normally grow up and hunt souls. And while a baby, it made sense for them to learn the ropes on hunting remnants.

"Shit," David whispered. "Shit. Sorry, Pegasus. Sorry." He gestured down at the dead woman. "Uh, um... hunt? Eat? Someone, a little help here?"

Laoko clicked once, a heavy cluck in her throat. Pegasus pawed at the ground and went back to biting at the corpse. David didn't watch.

"Are you serious?" Sazillia asked, unimpressed. "With the wake of corpses you've supposedly left behind you, unmarked, how can a hellbeast toying with a remnant bother you?"

"Because I'm still human. And according to Moriah and Tsila, kind of a nice guy. Seeing people die hurts. Seeing remnants die hurts."

Sazillia stared at him, eyebrow raised. "You sound like a human from the scrying pools."

"Yeah, that's because I am."

Laughing, Sazillia gave him a slap on the back as she walked past him. "I don't believe it. The surface overflows with weak-willed little saplings of men. No power. No grit. No will. They break at the first sign of difficulty."

Like she'd struck his funny bone with a metal bat, he shivered from head to toe. Oh boy, this conversation. Mia would tear this woman apart if she were here. But she wasn't, so David would have to do.

"Okay," he said. "Imagine you had a tiny pebble in your shoe, bailiff. Imagine the little pebble cutting into your foot every single day. You're not allowed to remove it. It never heals. You never really get used to the pain. Each and every day, the pain gets a little worse, and the pebble cuts a little deeper. You start to limp. You start dragging your leg. Each and every single fucking day, life cuts into you just a bit harder than the day before, so every single god damn mother fucking day, is the worst day of your life. You wake up, and you know that, no matter what you do, you're in for a new degree of pain and misery that you've never felt before, because that tiny pebble in your foot has slowly worked its way up into your fucking insides and it's tearing you apart and there's nothing you can do about it! No one cares. It kills you from the inside, and the greatest sign of strength you could hope to have in that situation is finding the will to not blow your fucking brains out!" Hopefully, they understood the gun reference. "Weak-willed saplings? Try courageous for having the fucking determination to get up when life itself has become a disease that kills you from the inside. When your own life is your worst fucking enemy, but you get up and fight the fight anyway!"

Sazillia stopped and stared at him. Everyone was staring at him, including the thousand demons surrounding him and the crew. Even Caera stared up at him, her single eye searching his. He'd started yelling and hadn't realized it, and his aura of rage pricked at the air. Apparently, Sazillia had found one of his triggers.

He sucked in a breath and started walking again. Mia would have handled that better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You can craft caves?" Sazillia asked, staring down at the huge pit he'd carved in the ground.

"Yeap." He climbed down into the hole, and with a silent song, made the hole spread wider and wider, raising the ground around him as he did. With a happy clop clop of his hooves, Pegasus hopped down after him, spreading his wings enough to catch air so he landed softly. Already almost gliding.

Tatiana snorted a laugh. "But he can't dig a tunn--"

Caera slapped the skinny succubus's naked ass with her giant tail, and Tatiana squeaked as she fell into the hole. David made to catch her, but, nope, she landed on her palms and knees on the rock, and hissed up a storm as she turned and glared at Caera.

"I'll see you burn for this, tregeera."

The threats rolled off Caera like probably a million others, and she laughed as she climbed down into the growing pit. David built the walls a few meters high, sloped, so people could literally climb or slide down them before he was done.

"Everyone accounted for?" he asked, and he spared a suspicious glance at Sazillia. "If there's one betrayer missing--"

"We haven't touched your crew," the fujara tetrad said, squatting at the end of the pit. Her tail slithered behind her in that slow, almost sensual way demon tails did when they were happy. "My demons obey me."

"They better," David said. He hated sneaking a threat into every word, but Sazillia didn't seem put off by them. If anything, she looked happy, and she grinned at him from her perch.

"So you all sleep together?" Sazillia asked.

"Tatiana, the other volas, and the betrayers get their own room." David raised his hands and summoned a wall of rock down the center of the pit.

Sazillia tilted her head. "Not what I meant."

"What?"

Daoka hopped down with him and chirped up at Sazillia. Whatever she said, it got a few laughs out of the tetrad.

"I had a feeling," Sazillia said. "From the way the girls are looking at you, and from the way you look at them. First time I've ever seen a soul with their own harem in Hell."

"Wha--oh. I mean, uh..." He squirmed. "They're not a harem."

"He lies," Laoko said. The enormous woman stepped into the pit with him, shaking her head so her absurdly long dreadlocks bounced around her waist. "This little man has us all on his length every night."

He groaned and looked at Caera, but the tiger just laughed as she nudged up against Pegasus's side.

"Laoko's right," she said. "David's seduced us all."

Again, Sazillia stared down at him, surprised. Tatiana to the rescue. The succubus stuck her head up from her side of the pit over the wall and shook her head.

"The boy has not seduced me. He is far too tiny for my tastes."

David gestured to her. "See? I haven't seduced everyone."

Tatiana frowned at him, rolled her eyes, and disappeared behind the wall again. Her crew climbed down the slope into her half of the soon-to-be cave, and Naoko smiled and waved at him before joining them.

One by one, his crew joined him in the pit. Acelina sat in her typical feminine, half-on-her-hip kinda way, and immediately the Las joined her and explored her long, thin wings, looking for any random lodged pebbles or tiny scratches. Jes and Daoka did the same for each other. Laoko sat by herself, but Moriah and Tsila joined her; maybe they were getting along? Caera stood beside David, waiting.

Sazillia grinned down at him. "I don't suppose you'll make a cave for us?" A joke.

"Nope. Survive the way you've been surviving. My crew and I will be safe in our cave, and I'll sense if you're up to something while we're sleeping. Do anything stupid and I'll shove spikes up your ass and out your mouth before you even realize I'm attacking." Another threat, and like the last one, it got a smile from the bailiff tetrad.

"So you really sleep with all these ladies?" the bailiff asked.

"Yes!" Laria said, and the shortstack gremla sat on Acelina's lap. "Lots of sex. All the time."

Acelina let a small, sinister smile appear on her black canvas face. "David is truly an insatiable little creature."

The Las nodded. Everyone nodded.

David put his hands on his hips and glared at his girls, but of course, that just made them laugh more. The same thing had happened at the university. Maybe he should stop putting his hands on his hips when trying to look upset.

"Well," Sazillia said. "Maybe I'll join you sometime." Before David could respond, the warrior woman stood up, licked a fang, and walked away.

Jes laughed, sitting behind Daoka and checking her spikes. "Told ya."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With the cave ceiling built and everyone safe deep in the ground, the crew went to sleep. David, Moriah, and Tsila took the first shift.

He sat back against the cave wall, and Pegasus immediately joined him, getting cozy between his knees. Sure, Pegasus crushing and munching on a remnant had been disturbing, but with just one look into the winged unicorn's red eyes as they closed, relaxed and safe, the memory vanished. Or maybe not vanished, but it wasn't so gross anymore. Pegasus was just too damn adorable, hellbeast or not.

Moriah sat on David's right, Tsila on his left, and the gabriem reached out and petted the horse nestled between his legs. Her fingers explored the unicorn horn on his forehead, and she giggled quietly as she ran a finger to the tip and pressed on it experimentally.

"The Great Tower surprises us so much lately," Tsila said. "For thousands of years, nothing ever changed. Millions. Now things cannot stop changing. I wonder how many things will change in the future."

Moriah sighed, leaned in, and rested her head on David's shoulder; an awkward position considering she was almost seven feet tall. The touch was a little more familiar than he was prepared for from the angry angel, and he stiffened. If Moriah noticed, she said nothing.

"I... think change is good," she said. "So many angels suffer the dread. It is a blight that sweeps across Heaven. More and more angels come to Hell, just to ease its sting. Some even seek the taint of demon resonance, thinking it will fight off the dread."

David winced. "I remember Tsila calling it the taint, the day she joined us. I uh... hope all the forbidden fruit you've been eating has dodged the issue?"

"It has," Tsila said. "But I admit, demon resonance is... stimulating. I miss it. It is good to not have it, but I do miss it."

David shook his head. "Yeah, but you don't get memories from it like I do."

Moriah reached out a giant wing and stroked the white feathers along Pegasus's back. "Do you know why you absorb memories from hearts yet?"

"I mean, I have a hypothesis. If the Great Tower is all of existence, then memories are important. Human, demon, and angel memories. Memories define who we are. Memories are pretty damn existential. So I can only imagine the Great Tower doesn't just abandon memories. I bet it saves them. I bet people live on in the Great Tower even after they move on from Heaven, or die enough deaths in Hell. And... And I guess I can absorb those memories, too, like the Tower can." It was a disturbing thought. "You said Heaven has a river of memories?"

"Yes," Tsila said. "One of the greatest joys of being a gabriem, is helping a soul pull the memory of a pet out of the river, so it can live again and spend years, perhaps centuries, with their owner. In such a circumstance, Heaven even bestows the pet with the gift of a soul, something it cannot do for recalled humans." Voice full of quiet joy, Tsila set her temple on his other shoulder. Both angels were resting on him.

"So you are part of the Great Tower," Moriah said. "A child of the Great Tower. I wonder then. Could you control Heaven if you somehow reached her?"

"Maybe?" he said. "The presence I feel when I play the music too loudly feels specifically like she's a part of Hell. Or is Hell? I don't know. None of this makes any real sense."

Nodding, Moriah reached out and slowly turned him to face her. For just a second, he thought maybe she was going to kiss him, or hop on his lap; damn girls putting sexy thoughts in his head. But no, she stared at him from point-blank with a soft gaze, her ruby eyes drinking in his green eyes.

"You have the eyes of a soul," she said.

He gulped. "You sure?"

"Yes." She nodded, but didn't break eye contact. From this close, the red of her eyes sparkled, a stark contrast to her slightly furrowed eyebrows. But even those softened as she stared into him.

Tsila took his jaw, turned him to face her, and she smiled at him as she did the same. Drinking in his eyes, she leaned in, nudged her nose into his, and stared. Her gaze had none of the bite of Moriah's, all softness and joy, emerald eyes that sparkled, too.

"Angel eyes," David said with a gulp. "Your eyes, uh... are they special, or something?"

"No," Tsila said. "But humans notice them, gaze into them, and that lets us gaze into theirs. Perhaps that is why our eyes shine? Ruby eyes, and emerald, and silver. Eyes of sapphire, onyx, and obsidian. Eyes of quartz, amethyst, aquamarine, and diamond."

"Shit, some angels get diamond eyes?"

Tsila nodded, warm smile unending. "To say eyes are the windows to the soul is a surface expression, but perhaps there is some truth to it? We do not know, only that angels have eyes that shine more than a human's eyes."

Moriah took his jaw and turned him to her again. More soul gazing.

"Human eyes," Moriah said, "are... different. They are subtler. There are thousands of shades in your eyes that defy patterns. Blues inside greens. Browns inside blacks. Hints of gold you have to dig to find. But they are there, like... cracks in a vase. There are a million experiences hidden in your eyes that speak of nuance we angels cannot grasp."

Again, Tsila turned him back to her. "Did you know angels can become addicted to worship, David?"

He gulped harder. "Addicted?"

"Yes. The eyes -- or touch -- of a human who adores us is addicting. I suppose a human does not have an understanding of it, but to us, it is... ambrosia. When a human meets our gaze with pure adoration, fascination, and obsession in their eyes, we feel bliss deep in our grace. I cannot think of a comparison for the surface, but it is a pleasure that devours us."

"But this is okay?" he asked, pulling his head back a touch.

Moriah turned him back to her. "Yes. You do not worship us. And I am no gabriem, a weak-willed angel who cannot resist the lure of hungry souls."

Tsila turned him again. "I am no mikalim, blinded by an ancient creed. I devote every day of my life to serving the souls of Heaven because it brings me no greater joy than to witness a soul find peace. And pleasure."

Slowly, David reached up, and gently guided both ladies' hands down and away from his jaw.

"If you two need to look into my eyes to feel good, I'm happy to oblige. But--"

"Don't worry," Tsila said, and she giggled. "You've grown quite attached to Caera, haven't you?"

He peeked over Moriah's shoulder at the tiger lady, lying on her side against the wall. Half dog, half cat, legs out. David smiled.

"Yeah."

Tsila tapped his knee. "Why?"

"Why?"

"Yes, why? You met Daoka and Jeskura first."

"Hey," he said. "I love Dao and Jes, but not like that. They love each other, and I'm pretty sure they still think of me as some kind of pet."

With another giggle, Tsila gestured out with a wing to the others.

"You are surrounded by women who intrigue you in some way or another, do they not? The Las adore you, and are full of endless joy."

He scratched his scalp through his shaggy red hair. "I like the Las. I mean, what guy doesn't love shortstack goblins? But it's not like I can sit down and have a conversation with them about stuff."

Tsila nodded. "And Acelina?"

"Acelina..." He looked at the tall, curvy woman, sitting near Laoko with the Las between their thighs. "She's scary. Half the time I'm afraid she's going to eat me." For more reasons than one.

The gabriem chuckled. "You like scary."

"I mean... a bit, yeah. But I don't know. I like her a lot, but I think she's..." How to put it? Acelina almost felt like she could be a villain in another universe, an evil queen who crushed unruly peasants under her hooves, and demanded perfection from every servant. By Hell's standards, that wasn't all that bad. And despite himself, he did like talking to her. There was something about chatting with an evil queen that was oddly intriguing, and fun.

"And Laoko?"

It was his turn to laugh--quietly. "I like her a lot, I do. But not like that. I'm more worried about her eating me than Acelina. Or, you know, becoming my closest confidante, all so she can steal my riches and slip me some poison."

Tsila smiled. "And Moriah?"

"And..." He turned and looked at the angel on his right. Moriah frowned past him at Tsila, but set her ruby eyes on his again, half frowning, half... what? Half worried? "I like Moriah a lot," he whispered, straight into her face. Her expression eased. "But I worry she still hates me for killing her friends."

Moriah closed her eyes, leaned in, and set her forehead against the top of his head. But she said nothing. The proximity was enough.

"And Caera?" Tsila asked.

"Oh, that's easy. I can talk with Caera. I can actually talk to her about stuff. Just, talk, you know? You can't have a romantic relationship if you can't connect intellectually." He held up a hand and counted off on his fingers. "You need an intellectual, emotional, and sexual connection, to have a romantic relationship with someone. Or at least, so Mia says. And I believe her. I connected with Caera emotionally when she was obsessed with revenge against those Cainites. We talked. We... connected?" He shrugged. Where was a poet when he needed one? "And we get along. Talk about things that interest each other, you know? And I uh... think I connected with everyone sexually." Woops on that. "You know what I mean, right?"

"No," Tsila said. "We don't know."

"What?"

The gabriem shook her head. "We don't know. To connect, soul to soul, on three levels?"

He shrugged. "I mean, the three levels thing is just a generalization, I--"

"It is not something angels or demons can truly understand." Tsila nudged her head into his. "We can try. And we gabriem understand it academically; we must in order to do our jobs. But a true connection on so many levels? Something that we feel from the top of our heads to the bottom of our feet, a connection with someone that deep? It is... a struggle, for us to understand that."

"She does not lie," Moriah said. "My relationship with Shaul before he... devolved, was full of love, but I cannot say it was full of nuance. It was simple." She gestured to Daoka and Jeskura. "I am not saying simple is bad, but there is a difference."

David looked down. "I guess."

Tsila gestured to Caera again. "Do you love her? Romantically?"

He looked past Moriah to Caera again. The sight of her sleeping the night away was wonderful.

"Yeah, I think I do."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~Day 120~~

~~Keziah~~

The Heavenly Island Azoryev was a mess. A group of angels had returned from Hell months ago, and tried to convince the rest of the Heavenly Island that the unmarked, or at least some of the unmarked, were not the enemy. That they were trying to stop the alien invader, and not bring about Armageddon. Some angels believed them. Most did not. That was Azoryev, determined to obey the last order from the council: kill the unmarked who try to reach the Forgotten Place.

Yathael, Keziah's home, was far more united. They took to the skies between the Heavenly Islands and blanketed the air with their wings. Below, the endless clouds of the afterlife went on and on, an infinite expanse of light, kindness, and perfection. Above, the starry night showed the cosmic wonder of the Lord's power, nebulae, swirling clusters of stars, even threads of flickering matter that connected galaxies like silk webbing reaching across the black voids.

In front of Keziah, a hundred battalions floated, wings spread, batlam runes equipped, and weapons drawn. A hundred thousand angels. To her left and right, the same. Two armies.

The souls within the gold cities below knew nothing of the battles, and that was how it was going to stay. Even in the deadly silence of the council and the growing civil war, all angels agreed to leave the souls of Heaven out of it. Would Heaven even allow anything to happen to the souls? Was it possible for a soul to die before it was their time, like the damned did in Hell? No one knew. No one wanted to find out.

"It doesn't have to end this way," Keziah's general said. Each island had three generals, one for each breed of angel, though the members of their contingents could be of any breed. Keziah's general, her captain's superior, was a mikalim, and he floated before the army, sword and shield at his sides. Tzorael.

A rapholem hovered in his path, colossal great shield and spear at his sides. Kamael, rapholem general of Avinoam, here to block Tzorael from entering Hell. It was not the first time an island had interfered with another, and some of those battles had ended in blood. Angels had died.

Kamael held his spear out to his right side, and his right wing with it.

"The council are silent and no longer fit to rule Heaven, old friend," Kamael said. "We must have change."

But Tzorael would have none of it. "We have not had change for two billion years, old friend."

"And in those two billion years, the Great Tower stood alone, but no longer!" Kamael raised his shield. "An alien comes for us from without!"

Tzorael shook his head. "They have given us an order. We will expunge the unmarked, and the alien will be defeated."

"The council have said nothing of the alien! They ignore our plight. They ignore the dread. They ignore--"

"Enough!" Tzorael aimed his sword at his old friend, and his wings glowed gold. "You stand against the council. You stand against Heaven. You--"

"You cannot let Moriah's rashness send this avalanche down on everyone's heads, Tzorael! Too many angels have died to angel blades and arrows already. This must stop."

"Then step aside!"

"I will not!"

The unstoppable force was about to meet the immovable wall. Keziah had yet to meet another angel in battle, and most skirmishes between angels had resulted in no deaths. But slowly, surely, with each battle, the angels grew more violent. Some had died. And some would die in this battle.

The battalions, silent as stone, turned their heads to witness a new set of wings. From within Yathael, a blazing light of speed and power shot toward them and came to a stop in front of Tzorael, facing him. A rapholem, but not a rapholem. Both armies stared as the guardian angel spread his wings, and his calm eyes met Tzorael's.

"Netanel!?" Tzorael asked, voice almost a gasp. "Do you intend to interfere as well?"

Netanel? Kelila the muse had spoken of the guardian angel, and told Keziah he might wish to speak to her. That had been ten years ago. It never happened.

But there he hovered, brilliantly large wings slowly flapping. Normal angels wore armor of silver and gold, with hints of white silk that hung from the joints between the layers of armor. The greater angels were different, but Keziah had only heard of the menacing silver of the reapers, or the glorious gold of the guardians. She had never seen them with her own eyes.

Netanel, the guardian angel, was a tall man. His armor was true to legend, shining gold in every groove and curve, even thicker and heavier than the armor of other rapholem, and hints of black silk hung from the joints. A wall of holy metal. It showed none of the flowing lines of other angels' armor, and instead carried an embossed shield on the breastplate. And on the helm and bracers, an embossed eye, wide open, with embossed angel wings sprouting from its corners.

"Go back to your walls and your city, general," Netanel said, voice full of bass. In a flash of gold light that streaked with black lighting, the guardian angel summoned his weapons, and Tzorael inched back from the shield that dwarfed any of the rapholem in his army. And his spear looked less a spear, and more a halberd, the mirror blade shining in the starlight.

"This is no concern of yours, exarch," Tzorael said. "Go back to your endless watch." He gestured to the eyes on Netanel's armor. "The surface needs your help. The afterlife is our domain."

Netanel did not so much as shake his head. He simply floated there, between the two generals, facing Tzorael's army.

Did he look Keziah's way?

The air rumbled with the depth of the angel's voice. "All of the Great Tower is my domain, general. And here I make my stand. Maybe tomorrow, things will be different. But today, I am deciding the outcome of this battle. Go home."

Tzorael floated closer. Netanel would have none of it. He held his halberd to the side, and a golden wall erupted from his wings. Rapholem could summon holy barriers, the strongest of them summoning walls of thirty, even forty meters across. Netanel's wall forced both armies back with wrists raised to block the light from scorching their eyes, as the colossal barrier stretched from one end of the armies to the other. A kilometer? Two kilometers? In all directions, the wall cut across the sky, radiant and magnificent.

"Go. Home," Netanel said, voice unchanged.

In the deadly silence, a hundred thousand angels from Yathael looked at Tzorael, waiting.

Tzorael looked past Netanel to Kamael, both struggling to pierce the barrier with their eyes. Whatever they said in their gaze, both angels turned, and left. Their armies followed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Keziah did not reach the wall of Yathael. As angels spread out and took their perches upon the golden stones, abandoning their armor and weapons, another angel followed her, one she did not recognize. A kilometer from her familiar post, she turned and faced the follower.

Normal angels wore potram runes of white silk, gold jewelry, and gold tattoos of flowing, elegant lines. This angel looked different. His silk toga was not as revealing as others, and black thread danced patterns on the white fabric. Only greater angels had unique-looking potram runes.

"Netanel?" she asked.

The man nodded, face hard and unyielding. "Keziah." It wasn't a question.

Netanel was well over seven feet tall, and a juggernaut of broad muscle. His skin was pale, dotted with freckles, head shaved smooth, and his red beard was long and done into small braids. And his emerald eyes looked at her mercilessly, leaving no room for her to so much as breathe, let alone squirm.

"You stopped the battle," she said. Speaking was difficult. Kelila was a muse, and her presence had been enough to shock Keziah stupid. A guardian angel was a different obstacle entirely.

"I did. Your general is shortsighted."

Keziah looked down at her dark skin and the gold rings on her fingers. Eye contact with this... being, was a struggle.

"It is not my place to question my general. I follow the orders of my captain. He follows the orders of the generals. The three generals of Yathael follow the orders of the twenty-seven council of Heaven. Who am I to--"

"A single angel, in a moment of rage -- brought on by the dread more than anything, I imagine -- cut down a fellow angel. And since then, others have used that excuse to kill more angels. I try to stop the violence, but it is a losing battle. I cannot be everywhere at once, and--look at me, Keziah."

She gulped and forced her eyes back up.

"This must stop," he continued. "But that is not why I have come to speak to you."

"What would a greater angel want with a lowly first rank like me?"

With his arm across his chest, he stared straight into her grace. "You are no first rank, and you know it."

"I am only fifty years old," she said.

"And you know you have the power of a second rank soldier." He came closer, wings barely flapping as they hovered high above the clouds. "And perhaps more."

It took all her strength to keep eye contact. How could a guardian angel look so menacing?

"I... am stronger than my years would suggest, I believe," she said.

"And your..." Finally, the angel looked away, his eyes drifting to the side as if caught by an errant wisp of light. "Come." The guardian angel flew down into Yathael, and Keziah flew after him.

It was not an angel's place to question why. It was not an angel's place to question at all. And more than a mikalim or gabriem, it was a rapholem's duty to stand tall and strong, a wall against all threats. She felt threatened, less by the guardian angel, and more by the chaos the conversation would no doubt bring.

Netanel landed upon a beach. Empty. Many souls wandered the beaches of silver and gold, with crystal waters that sparkled, but the guardian angel picked a stretch of beach far from Yathael's populace. She landed behind him, but with a gesture of his arm, she stepped forward and walked beside him.

"You... look well," he said.

Keziah stared at the tall man. "Netanel, you confuse me. What is this about? I look well? Have we met?"

But the guardian angel shook his head and kept walking, face made of stone. It took time before he spoke again.

"What do you think of this war?"

"It is the most horrible thing to happen to Heaven since Lucifer's betrayal. Every moment, I ache. To think a single angel caused this avalanche..."

"Moriah," Netanel said. "Mikalim, third rank, of Azoryev. I asked, and learned that she lost her friend, and her ex-lover, to an unmarked. And when she met other angels with Yosepha, an angel helping an unmarked, she convinced them to capture her, and crucify her to a cross of truth."

Keziah winced. Yes, she had heard the stories. Not in Keziah's life had an angel suffered such shame. Not since the betrayal of Ramiel, where Ramiel's friends had been crucified, but to no avail. To this day, no one knew what Ramiel had done on the surface.

Wait.

"Moriah had an angel for a lover?" she asked.

"Yes. But perhaps Heaven is better off without him. I learned he was succumbing to the dread, and was staving off its weight by sneaking down into Hell and eating demon hearts. He was becoming violent."

Keziah stared, every word carving a hole through her skull. "I have heard of the taint, the way a demon heart can affect us. I did not realize it could change an angel so deeply."

"It can, over thousands of years. Moriah's lover Shaul never hurt another angel, and so it is with all angels who suffer the taint. And until it drives an angel to hurt another, I doubt the council will do anything, if even then." He walked forward as if his words, heavy as they were, did not crush his shoulders as they did hers. "The council will do nothing, no matter what."

"So you believe the reaper Ezekiel then?"

Netanel turned and stared into her grace. "And you do not?"

"I... I am young. I--"

"You believe the council is a dead, bloated carcass that refuses to sink, Keziah. You and many angels of Yathael think so."

She sucked in a hard breath. "I will not speak ill of the council."

"They are not gods. They are not God. You do not sin to speak ill of their folly."

It was too much. She looked away. "You are trying to turn me against the council, and the generals of Yathael."

"I am not."

"Then why speak of these things?"

The guardian angel said nothing, resumed his walk, and she followed. What else could she do? Nine million angels, and one of the greater angels was speaking with her. Why?

From a place of sorrow, Kelila had said, but that had been ten years ago. Was Netanel connected to the strange visions she was having?

"I understand I have confused you," he said. "I do not speak to you to make you do anything, Keziah. I speak just to hear myself talk. The other exarchs do not make for fine company. They watch, and listen, and sit on their thrones for centuries at a time, unmoving."

Exarchs. An old word for the greater angels.

"So you speak with me? A young rapholem?"

"Yes."

Keziah found the courage to eye the man, tilting her head slightly. But she did not ask why.

"Exarch," she said at last. "I... I have been..." Tell him? In the absurd chaos of everything, of the unmarked, of the rumours of the strange alien invader, her flash visions seemed irrelevant. And yet here stood a guardian angel, speaking to her, randomly, for no reason at all. There had to be a connection. "I have seen things, Netanel. I have never branded damned souls at the Gates of Hell, and yet I know what the gate looks like. I know its smell. I know the screams of the newly damned. I have read the Estian runes on the archway of bone and death."

Netanel kept walking, but lowered his head. The weight of Heaven's growing civil war could not break this man, but her words had?

She continued. "I have seen things through someone else's eyes, guardian. I have seen Heaven through visions. I have--"

And with a voice as empty as the void, he spoke. "Forget them."

"Forget!? I cannot forget them, Netanel! They plague my mind. What are these visions? Are they memories? Are they visions of the future?"

"No one can see the future, rapholem, just as no one can change the past. The chain of causality is immutable."

"Then... then they are memories? But how? I am a newborn angel. I stepped out of the fountain of rebirth with no knowledge of any previous life. Libraries of knowledge exist within my mind, but it is the information all angels are born with. These memories are not!"

Again, Netanel shook his head. "Your life will be easier if you do not think about them, Keziah."

"And yet think about them, I must." She reached out and touched the man's shoulder. He had come to her. Surely he knew what was happening to her. "Tell me, guardian."

But the man would not be swayed. He walked, and she walked beside him, with a galaxy-sized rift between them.

Eternity passed before he spoke again. "There are more reasons than you know, young rapholem, to question the council."

"But you will not tell me them?"

"No."

She could not keep her voice under control, and it boomed. "Then why are we having this conversation!?"

The guardian angel set his emerald eyes on her, and she petrified until stone lined her veins.

"Heaven is broken, and I am doing what I can to keep angels from killing each other. I speak to you because... because I wish to be reminded of a previous time. A quieter time. It was a mistake." He turned and made to leave.

She did not let him. For all the rock in her gut, she grabbed his shoulder between his wings and turned him to face her.

"Am I the only one?" she asked. "Are other newborn angels seeing the memories of other angels, as well?"

Slowly, the guardian angel looked over his shoulder at her, and nodded.

"There are others," he said. "But understand, Keziah. Heaven suffers. We do what we can to protect the Great Tower. And this problem, this failing of the fountain of rebirth, is yet another crack in the foundation. But I did not come here to dump these troubles on you, young rapholem. I came for selfish reasons. It was a mistake. If we are lucky, we will not speak again."

For a moment, she thought perhaps he would stay. But again, his heavy emerald eyes pierced her grace.

"The unmarked are the heralds of the end," he said. "But that does not mean they are the enemy."

And then he was gone. Her fingers fell from his shoulder, and the mighty guardian angel flew away, leaving her in the wake of his terrible message.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~Day 116~~

~~Mia~~

When Mia opened the cave back into the forest of crosses, Noah and Azreal stood there, waiting, looking as stern and intense as ever. But they both raised an eyebrow when they looked the crew over.

"Did something happen?" Noah asked.

Mia smiled and shook her head. "Noth--"

"There was an orgy," Julisa said, nodding as she stepped past a cross. "Romakus is to blame, but then, of course, Mia made it worse. Everyone enjoyed themselves." She wagged her tail and pointed it back at Mia, currently riding Vin's back again. "Though, as usual, Mia enjoyed herself more than anyone."

"Hey!" She frowned down at the tetrad from over Vin's shoulder--damn, he was tall. "We ended that night with me and Yosepha pleasuring you!"

Julisa rolled her eyes. "I suppose that is true."

Yosepha and Mia grumbled before trading some quick glances. Was Yosepha shy? Maybe a little, or maybe just feeling guilty about enjoying having sex with demons. Mia was definitely feeling shy. Cuddling Julisa's absurd tits and fingering her was one thing. Doing that while practically holding hands with Yosepha, fingers mingling together inside the huge tetrad woman? Holding hands was naughty! In that context, doubly naughty.

"I suppose," Noah continued, "that our leaving gave you the room to relieve stress."

Adron nodded. Kas grunted. Vin grunted deeper.

"You could have joined us," Julisa said.

Azreal frowned at her. So did Noah, but it didn't have the same venom.

"I think not," Noah said.

"Oh come now, angel. Yosepha and Romakus are an interesting pair. Why not us?" Julisa leaned down over the much smaller man, ass sticking out and tail slithering about. "I would treat you right and drown you in the pleasures of my perfect body every night."

Mia rolled her eyes. Okay, yes, Julisa had that bad girl look going for her; the bald head with the four enormous black horns really sealed in the look. But Mia knew the women Azreal liked based on the story he'd told her about a girl named Odette. And later, Noah confessed to her he'd had his own romances with souls, but they'd been interrupted before Mia could learn more. Still, she was pretty sure Noah would have similar tastes, and that just wasn't an aggressive, arrogant, pushy woman like Julisa.

If Mia were a guy, it'd definitely work on her. Did David have any big, mean bitches pushing him around and trying to get in his pants? Or, toga? Mia smiled and chuckled to herself.

David. He was alive. She'd yet to get a vision of him. The knowledge was like a flashlight she could turn on in the dark, making her feel better immediately, even while she and the crew walked through a forest of literal crosses, each holding a crucified remnant. The screams were endless, blending together into a constant background noise that bordered on a hypnotic choir, and nails on a chalkboard. But nearly four months of Hell had helped her ignore the sound, like learning to sleep with a snoring spouse.

Cerberus walked up to a cross, put his front paws against it to stand up, and tore into the remnant, ripping open his guts. Mia winced and looked away. Okay, yes, she could tune it out, but it was still horrible letting her hellbeast indulge his instincts like that. Julisa was right, though. Better to let him do what hellbeasts did and kill remnants.

The next cross Cerberus strolled up to, Mia froze.

"Cerberus!" she yelled, voice cutting through the endless choir. "Don't!"

Cerberus stopped at the feet of a remnant, looked back at her, and all three heads lowered as he walked her way. Mia wanted to feel bad, but as Hannah stared at her from the cross, she couldn't feel anything.

Everyone turned and looked at her, then Cerberus, and then at the cross with the naked woman crucified there.

"H... Hannah?" Adron said. His tail went limp behind him, and he dragged himself up to the cross and stared up at the remnant nailed upon it. "Hannah?"

Shit. Mia climbed down Vin's back as the group came to a halt. Cerberus followed on her heels as she joined Adron, the two of them staring up at the dying woman.

"M... ia," Hannah said. The beauty of the woman was gone, her short blonde hair and blue eyes worn to ruin. She was emaciated and covered in small cuts and bruises, like she'd spent a lifetime trapped in the depths of a dark cave. Split fingernails and bleeding lips, cheeks sunken, and small drops of blood fell from her nailed wrists and feet.

Adron turned his head with a snap, stared down at Mia, and slowly forced his furious eyes back to his old betrayer.

"A... dron." Head heavy and lulling, Hannah looked down at Adron again, and let out a quiet, long, raspy wail. "Adron." The number 658 was etched into her forehead.

"What's going on?" Adron asked. "There's... There's no way she'd just appear in our path like this. There are millions, probably billions of remnants in Hell, growing and dying all the time. This isn't possible."

"I don't know," Mia said, shaking her head. "It's... happened before."

Again, Adron snapped his glare down at her, and Mia winced and backed away.

"Hannah's remnant has been following you? And you never told me!?" His yell punched through the remnant forest, and Vin growled down at the man. Adron didn't so much as glance up at the titan.

"I... I think she's following my music," Mia said. "Asmodeus found Azreal and Noah because they have some hint of my music on their bodies. You all do, I bet. Maybe Hannah is doing the same thing? Maybe remnants can hear the music?"

In the corner of Mia's eye, Julisa watched. The bitch wasn't smiling. Or at least, not smiling as much as Mia figured she'd be.

"So what do we do?" Adron asked.

"Do?"

"She's right there!" The man gestured up at Hannah, and he stared into her eyes. Mia couldn't. Hannah's sunken, mad eyes were worse than staring into the chasms of the alien.

"There is nothing we can do," Noah said. He stepped up to the cross, but facing Adron, gaze solid and calm. Adron's opposite. "Mia knows of no way to affect the remnants. She knows of no way to affect the damned, beyond her aura. There is nothing to be done."

Adron aimed his rage at Noah and grabbed the angel by the neck. The large angel did not react as the larger demon pulled him close and snarled into his face.

Azreal shoved Adron back, and his back crashed into the cross. Hannah howled.

"There has to be something!" Adron said, snarling. Adron never snarled, not like that. "She's right there! We have to--"

Kasimiro stepped up to the cross, stood up to his great height, and sank a claw into Hannah's skull. Hannah didn't react. She didn't have time. The light went out of her desperate eyes the moment his claw pierced bone. Quick, and painless.

With a quiet grunt, Kas got back on all fours and looked up at his friend. He clicked twice in his throat, barely audible over the forest of the crucified, and nudged Adron's hip with the back of his hand.

Adron stared down at Kas, juggling who knew how many emotions in his eyes. Kas held his gaze, the eyeless demon waiting for his friend to do something. Attack him, maybe? Scream at him?

Kas hadn't told Adron about Hannah, either.

Finally, Adron let his shoulders relax. He nodded, tapped the back of his hand against his old friend's shoulder, and left. A last glance back at Hannah's corpse, and a flick of his eyes to Mia, before he pushed past and further into the forest of crosses.

"Should have told him earlier," Julisa said, grinning at Mia.

"Fuck you. I... I didn't know how."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~Day 118~~

Two days later. No more sex. She wasn't in the mood, after seeing Adron get hurt like that. No one was in the mood.

And that sucked. They were on a mission to save the world, maybe all of existence, and dealing with a literal Hell terrain full of deadly creatures and demons and angels who wanted to kill them. It didn't get more stressful than that. Stress relief was important.

Time to fix this.

She climbed down Vin's spine and slowed until she walked with Adron in the back, Cerberus following beside her. Instead of walking through a forest of crucified remnants, ruins welcomed them. Destroyed churches, toppled over with the wear of time. Some were made of stone. Some were made of wood. Some had glass windows and fancy spikes like a gothic cathedral. Some were foreign--or at least, foreign to her. Hell was happy to make a mockery of all religions. Toppled towers, palaces, other structures she couldn't understand in their ruined state, were the crew's path toward the spire.

"Sorry," she said, eyes aimed down. "I should have told you about Hannah."

Adron said nothing.

"We ran into her randomly in Angel's Spine. I think I heard her again later, but couldn't be sure. This was the third time."

No answer.

"I didn't tell you because I... I don't know. I guess at first it was because I thought it'd just hurt you. I didn't want to do that when there was no point. But I guess I really just wanted to avoid this conversation because I'm a pussy."

That got a small smile out of Adron, and he poked her with his tail.

"I don't blame you," he said. "For not telling me, I mean. This journey is important. My problems are not."

She smiled back at him, relief washing over her like a warm shower.

"You should blame me a little, right? I let this happen when I could have warned you."

"Yes. But Kas... Well, he knows best."

'Knows best' meant killing Hannah's remnant and moving on, and not letting the situation fester. Like a surgeon doing triage, it was brutal and necessary.

"I feel responsible," Mia said. "Hannah died saving my life. The rider woulda gotten me instead of her if she hadn't yanked me out of the way."

"Yeah, probably." Adron shrugged. "But don't think I ever wonder if I'd be happier if Hannah was still alive and you were dead, Mia. What-ifs are a really, really stupid way to think about any situation."

She stared at him. God, she was dumb. Adron had been one of Zel's best men, a guy who knew how to survive, and how to think. He wasn't young, and he was smart. Here she was, worried he'd be full of angst. Sad, sure, but angst? Apparently not.

"I think demons are entitled to a bit of rage, though," he said. "Don't you think?"

"Uh, yeah, sure?" she asked.

"I never thought Hannah would actually die. I kept her safe. She was my pet, my betrayer. Death's Grip got ripped in half before she died. And now she has to die a full six hundred and sixty-six times before she can move on. I'm not angry at you, Mia, but I am angry. Seeing her just brought it back to the surface."

"Oh. That's... yeah. That makes sense."

"I know you can't save her, but if you can make it easier for her to reach her necessary deaths, I'd appreciate it."

"I... I hadn't thought of that." It was a nasty thought, and she winced. "I suppose if we can just keep summoning her somehow, she could reach zero a lot faster than other remnants."

"You think that'd be violating the cycle in some way?"

Mia shrugged. "No idea. Hell burns away the bad resonance, leaves the good, and the Great Tower uses the good to grow. If Hell necessarily needs to 'torture' souls to get rid of that bad resonance, I don't really know. Maybe? I... I don't think it's a perfect system, honestly. The Great Tower, I mean. It's more like an ecosystem than some perfect, balanced algorithm. So, maybe?"

Adron's smile grew. "Then, if you see her again, do me a favor and kill her."

That was the most fucked-up sentence Mia had heard yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A portal opened above, a shrieking, howling thing with teeth that ripped open reality itself. She couldn't see behind it with it being almost directly overhead, but she knew, from the side the portal didn't exist. There was nothing behind it, but from the front and looking in, it was a long, dark tunnel full of fire, bone, spikes, and howling remnants grabbing at the fresh souls falling into Hell. A thousand, two thousand, maybe ten thousand souls fell through the enormous gaping lamprey mouth, and plummeted toward the cruel ruins below.

Before they hit the ground, they slowed. Dying on impact was not permitted. Some landed hard, maybe hard enough to break bone, but not a one died from the landing. If the portal had an intelligence, it was a cruel one: it didn't want anyone to die too early.

As the last few souls fell, thousands of screams erupted, but not from the souls.

From within the ruins, from underneath toppled walls and hidden basements, from around fallen walls and from above collapsing roofs, demons swarmed. It wasn't the first swarm Mia had seen attack a fresh drop of souls, but there was something different here. The demons tore at each other as they ran, some drooling, all with eyes wide and fangs bared. Some tripped. Some outright faceplanted, but instead of lifting themselves and resuming the race for fresh food, they drove themselves forward, dragging their faces across rocks and dirt before finally getting back to their feet.

Mia poked out from behind a ruin's wall. The surrounding stones of the crumbled church were good cover, but only Mia was small enough to take a peek without risking someone spotting a horn or wing.

"What the fuck," she whispered. "These demons are crazy..."

Holed up in their ruin, Mia's crew were well hidden and buried in shadows, but they held perfectly still and shut up when demons ran overhead or around the ruin. Imps and grems, vrats and gargoyles, even a few brutes and tigers ran by, heavier bodies going thud-thud on the stone and black wood of the building's carcass. They didn't so much as look into the ruin, as if they couldn't smell Mia and the others. Or maybe something that subtle just didn't register anymore in their crazed minds.

"Yes," Romakus said. "We're getting closer to the spire. More and more demons have Belor's old spire seal marked on them."

"These demons are over two thousand years old?" Mia asked.

"I doubt it. Some, maybe, but most can't be. They're new demons getting the seal."

"If Belor's dead--"

"He is dead," Noah said.

But Mia shook her head. "No no, let's not do that. Hell keeps throwing us curveballs, so at a certain point, we have to expect the unexpected. Maybe Belor is alive? Maybe he's sitting on the spire throne right now, with that amber horn in his head, and he's branding people with... whatever that ridiculous final spire aura was. The spire's not giving off any aura now, but a spire leader can still burn the aura into people?"

Romakus nodded. "Yes. Seal in the aura into a rune, and the aura is localized to the branded demon's mind. That lets it last for a long time, even for a time if the demon leaves the province."

"No idea how long?" she asked. "I mean, if they stay in the province?"

"No idea. A long time."

"Belor," Azreal said, "used the great forge to arm his demons. Endless swarms of demons armed in meera metal, and when he could, aera metal. Are those demons wearing meera metal?"

Mia poked her head out again. Demons wore random scraps of bent black metal, barely held in place by leather straps, but messily. A forearm here, a leg there, all random, like a bunch of rabid psychos had found a junkyard and strapped convenient bits to their bodies.

"Uh, yes, but it looks like old, beat-up stuff," she said. "Looks like they've been fighting each other for it, maybe?"

Noah grunted. "Belor did not let his armies fight amongst themselves, or wear poor armor. His armies were well-armed and in good condition."

"Like those other provinces? The Red Pits and Navameere Fields?"

The angel nodded. "In a sense. Those provinces use an organized military, a poor facsimile of the armies of the surface. But..." He looked at Romakus.

Romakus groaned. "When Belor was in charge, he kept everyone ground down under his heel. We obeyed. There were no strict military groups, no regiments, no battalions, just demons who knew if they stepped out of line, he'd kill them."

A deep rumble vibrated through the ground. It took Mia a minute to realize it was Vinicius.

"Vin?" she asked.

The giant demon breathed in the air, smelling it like a hungry predator, and he set a hand on the ruin wall they hid behind.

"A fresh batch of souls," he said.

Mia tilted her head. "You ate yesterday." She'd gotten good at growing forbidden trees and forbidden fruit. It was almost a nightly thing now, keeping everyone well-fed, making life infinitely easier for everyone.

And yet, Vin slowly peeked his head around the wall, risking their lives with his big-ass head and big-ass horns sticking out in view. He licked his fangs, long tongue reaching out and practically caressing his teeth. He breathed faster, and a tiny smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Vin?" she asked again.

Vin closed his eyes, and everyone listened. Tooth and claw shredding through flesh. Souls screaming. Distant battle, demons roaring at each other, shoving each other, fighting over the kills as souls ran for their lives. Nearby remnants and their unending screams were just background noise compared to the slaughter of fleeing souls.

Mia pulled her head back and pushed back at Vin. He didn't move.

"Vin!" she whispered. "Hide!"

Vin did not hide. He watched the distant fight, inching further and further out from their hiding spot, eyes growing wider by the second. His tail flowed behind him, all too much like a crocodile drifting through water.

Romakus and Kas each grabbed one of Vin's arms and yanked on him hard. The colossal demon half fell in toward the center of the ruin, spun, snarled, and reached out for the two demons with fangs bared. He got his massive hands around their throats, and like they were dolls, he threw both demons to the ground and pinned them.

Cerberus jumped back, snarling, eyes darting back between Vin and Mia. He didn't know what to do. She didn't know what to do.

Azreal and Noah jumped Vinicius. They couldn't use their wings, not with them wrapped in fragile remnant fabric, but they got their hands around his other two hands, put their sandals against his back, and pulled, prying Vin's other arms back. Yosepha and Julisa dove in and pried the demon's fingers off Kas and Romakus's necks, but it took time, and Kas and Romakus coughed horribly as they got in some desperate breaths.

Mia grabbed her necklace, the leash, and--

Adron stepped up, unhooked his sword, grabbed the blade by its blunt edge, and swung. The metal grip nailed Vin in the forehead between two massive horns, hard, and the resounding thunk of metal on flesh and bone silenced the crew.

Vin stared at Adron, a toddler compared to him, and slowly relaxed. His arms went limp as he sat back, and the demons and angels backed away from the titan as he pressed his spine against the ruin wall.

Mia stared at Adron. Adron winked at her. If Vin was in the mood, he could rip Adron in half before any of them could stop him. But Adron just smiled, stabbed the floor with his sword's tip, and leaned his weight on its grip; no wonder it was so blunt.

"Vin, what the fuck was that?" Mia asked, voice biting through clenched teeth.

Vin said nothing. He looked down, a heavy, snarling rumble vibrating through his body and into his still tail.

Mia would not be dissuaded. She marched up to Vin and jabbed his side with a finger.

"I asked you a question!"

Slowly, the titan aimed his short dragon snout down at her, squinting. "My hunger grows."

"Hunger? I keep you all fed! The fuck--"

Julisa chuckled as she helped Romakus back to his feet. "You remember the statues, Mia."

"Statues?"

"The statues showing children of the Old Ones, fighting each other?" Of course, Julisa didn't find the situation problematic at all. She smiled, gave Vin a few lustful glances, and looked up and around at the cracks in the walls of their hidey-hole. "I've told you before, unmarked. Demons crave violence, even Kasimiro and Adron here desire it. A child of the Old Ones, the first 'normal' demons, must crave it deep in their bones, in their sin. I bet the children slaughtered each other in droves, didn't they, Vinicius?"

Vinicius growled at Julisa, a clear threat. All it got from her was a purr.

"And," she continued, "you keep him on a leash, Mia. Perhaps you should let him off the leash? Or at least indulge his desires?"

Time to make a point. Mia marched up to Julisa, glared up at her, and stabbed her in the hip with a finger, too.

"Vin is not a mindless, rabid animal. The leash is just there to help him control himself, okay? Vin wants to help us." She gestured to him. "Right?"

It took a second, but the titan nodded, and slid a set of claws down his chest, from the thin black chain around his neck, down to his sternum.

"We must... save the Great Tower," he said.

Mia nodded. For a dangerous moment, she wanted to ask him to apologize for attacking the others, a dumb mommy reflex that would undoubtedly backfire. She bit her tongue, shut up, and peeked around the ruin wall to the distant slaughter again.

She fell back on her ass when a damned soul ran into the ruin. A man, older, naked body covered in blood and eyes wide with panic. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and an arm dangled limp at his side.

He stared down at Mia. Mia stared up at him. 348. He opened his mouth.

Vin snapped a hand out, grabbed the man around the throat, and squeezed until something cracked. No sound came out of the man's mouth as Vin pulled him deeper into the ruin. A gross, popping sound filled the sudden silence as Vin got another hand on the man's waist, and pulled.

The soul's head came off. Mia looked away, but caught a peek of the man's eyes as he looked down and realized his head had separated from the rest of his body.

No one said a thing as Vinicius let out a long, satisfied sigh, plucked the heart from the corpse, and chewed it. He didn't have to chew, mouth and throat big enough he could have easily swallowed it whole. He chewed it anyway, making a big, unnecessary mess of blood leaking down his jawline.

"Vin?" Mia asked.

The titan set the body aside and nodded. "Forbidden fruit does not have the taste."

"Forbidden fruit taste divine," Julisa said, nodding. "But they do not have the... spice of a damned soul's heart. Demon hearts also have the taste, but it is different. Equally good, but different."

Mia winced. Spice was not the word she'd use to describe the flavor, but she knew what the tetrad meant. Demon hearts and damned souls had something to them that was nasty, but also sent a thrill through the body, something that awakened all kinds of dark desires in the moment. Demons hearts were especially potent.

Something to do with the memories, maybe? She still had the memories of the demon and human hearts she'd eaten, filed away in her mind, easily retrieved if she made the effort. Eidetic memory? She most definitely did not have a special memory; school proved that. But something about hearts and the memories that came with them, she kept in her mind in permanent detail.

Of course, those memories had to be nasty.

Azreal and Noah exchanged glances before looking down, shoulders slumping slightly.

"What do we do now?" Yosepha asked, and she gestured to the wall and past it the feast happening outside.

"The swarm will be gone soon," Romakus said. Getting choked by a titan didn't seem to have bothered him at all. "These feeding frenzies never last long. The few souls that escape will be hunted down. I'm sure a few will find other souls, get together in numbers, and try and protect themselves. Sometimes they succeed, for a while. There are Cainites in False Gate, and they gather in the larger buildings on the province's outskirts. Other souls will be captured by demons, eaten later, or maybe -- if they agree to it -- get turned into betrayers. Or maybe cannibalized by other souls." He shrugged. "Or at least, that's what used to happen. False Gate is not the same place I left."

Mia peeked around the wall again. The demon swarm was still there, ripping and tearing and feasting. No more screams, though.

"Okay," Mia said. "Romakus. Plan?"

"Honestly?" he said. "We're under the gun, right?" She did not point out the surface expression, much as she wanted to. "We should just get out there and march. S'long as our angel friends keep their wings wrapped up, all anyone a couple miles up will see is demons fighting other demons."

"What? You want us to just... walk out in the open toward the spire? We're not worried about demons reporting..." She peeked out again. The demons roared, snarled, and laughed with evil cackles as they indulged in the swarm. And the moment they stopped eating, they drifted around aimlessly, getting into tussles, or parking their asses against random boulders and chuckling as they swung their blunt weapons in the air. Some fell on their sides, and, like before, didn't push themselves to their feet immediately, instead pushing their torsos around as if they didn't know how to stand at first. Like they were drunk, or maybe suffering some kind of nervous system disease.

She looked back at Romakus. "You think we can just walk straight to the spire, and kill any demons we run into?"

"I think if we're quiet and smart about it, yeah, we'll have to kill a lot of demons that throw themselves at us, but it'll be doable. And unless the spire's come under new management no one's aware of, there's no spire ruler to deal with. We just march our way straight to the goal."

Mia shook her head. "But someone took the rune stones from the shoreline. Someone's trying to stop us."

Again, the tetrad shrugged, getting up and rubbing his throat. If he had a grudge against Vinicius, he didn't show it, not even glancing the titan's way as he pulled out his huge sword.

"You're right. But we don't know who. So, we either sneak our way to the spire and take a month, or we just march our way there now and be there in ten days."

Demons didn't like long stretches of marching. If Romakus was making the suggestion, he was serious.

Mia looked at the others. No one disagreed, and from the looks on Julisa's and Vinicius's faces, they were outright excited for a chance at some killing.

"I... I guess we can try it that way," she said. "If all the demons in False Gate have lost their minds, then... then I guess we can try the direct approach? If we keep an eye on the sky, maybe this will save time?"

Everyone nodded. Noah and Azreal didn't look happy at all.