FINALLY! *triumphant trumpet music blares rather loudly in your ear* I FINALLY GOT THIS DONE!

I've been saying I was going to write this for at least a year now, and I finally got it done!

*halfhearted applause mixed with booing*

So, yeah. This is actually one of the few fics for which I have almost the entire thing planned already, which I am really proud of. I mean, it's not like I have every chapter worked out to the most minute detail, but I already know the lore of this AU, I know where I'm going with this, and I know basically how I plan on getting there. Trust me: for me, that's pretty much as crazy-prepared as having the whole thing written in advance. Usually, I just sort of play it by ear. Or, you could say I... wing it! ...eh, eh?! ...I'm sorry.

In any case, I do not own Professor Layton, nor do I own Kid Icarus: Uprising, although I do own this story itself and the original ideas contained within. Seriously, though... I'm not gonna sue you if you steal this idea. In fact, please do. This site needs more Professor Layton and/or Kid Icarus fanfics.

With all that out of the way, let's get this party started!

Prologue
Fight or Flight

It had been a normal day until Aurora screamed.

And... okay, that couldn't be much farther from the truth. After all, it had been only yesterday that they discovered a girl who survived in a hunk of ice for millions of years, had said girl kidnapped from them by a cult/gang, retrieved her from the gang only for her to run off and unearth some ancient Azran ruins in the middle of a lake, and solved a puzzle with beams of ethereal light to find the locations of five ancient relics that were basically the keys to unlocking the secrets about the universe itself.

Not exactly average.

But, nonetheless, it had at least been comprehensible—crazy things may have happened, but there were at least scientific explanations for them. It was mind-boggling, sure, but it didn't alter the way that any of them perceived reality as a whole. There was no magic, no witchcraft, and no horde of enormous eyeballs encased in slimy pink flesh floating through the air and shooting balls of lightning at London.

But it seemed like that good luck had ended.

Strangely enough, Raymond hadn't been the first to notice them. Maybe it was because of the way they were close to the ground, clustering around larger buildings. Maybe he just really needed to invest in some eyeglasses. Either way, it was Aurora who saw them—so Aurora was the one whose eyes widened fearfully as she pointed in their general direction and screamed.

Very quickly, the rest of the Bostonius's crew came running. Luke ran from the kitchen, dropping the extra biscuit he'd been sneaking. Emmy had only one arm through the sleeves of her yellow jacket, and Layton came behind her with a patch of shaving cream still on the corner of his chin. Sycamore seemed to materialize out of nowhere by Raymond's side, straightening his glasses and pulling what looked suspiciously like a curling iron out of his hair.

None of them were prepared for what they saw.

"My word," Layton breathed, brushing the white off of his face and staring in solemn awe at the sheer destruction wrought upon London. Several buildings were in shambles, most of the visible streets were nigh-demolished, and cars that tried their best to drive away were quickly vaporized by the balls of improbability being shot at them. Even as they watched on in horror, another office building crumbled and crashed to the ground so loudly that they could hear it past the Bostonius's engine and propellers.

But even that wasn't really what they were focused on. No, the real kickers were the monsters.

Because, really, "monsters" was a kind word for the creatures that were currently attacking their city. "Abominations" was more accurate. Besides the previously mentioned pink-clad eyeballs, there were also a myriad of other hell spawns, both floating in the air and running amok on the ground. Barely aware of her own actions, Emmy whipped out her camera and began snapping pictures of green spheres with huge, flailing tongues and what appeared to be fat orange squids spewing rings of purple smoke. Jaw falling open a bit, Sycamore stared in disgust at a Frankenstein's monster that seemed to be comprised of several others—two pink blobs, a green blob, and a huge nose.

The only one not looking at the monsters in morbid fascination was Luke. He was leaning against the glass, frantically taking in the utter annihilation of London. His face twisted despairingly as he witnessed a long tongue stab through a window, drag out a screaming businessman, and throw him up into the air, where he was torn asunder by an enormous two-headed axe spinning through the sky.

Turning to Layton, Luke gripped the man's black jacket with both hands. "Professor!" he cried fearfully, getting Layton's attention with the panic in his voice.

Upon taking in the terrified, yet oddly guilty look on his apprentice's face, Layton quickly put the pieces together. The color drained from his face, his dark eyes widening. "Luke, my boy," he muttered, just barely loud enough for the others to hear, "you can't possibly mean to tell me that those are..."

He trailed off, but Luke nodded hastily, and Layton quickly pressed his palm against his mouth in a rare display of shock. Picking up on the man's peculiar behavior, Sycamore turned to the two, his gaze fixating on the blue-clad ten-year-old. "Do you know something about those... things, Luke?" he demanded, not seeing any other explanation for the boy's odd reaction to them and Layton's vague response.

Before Luke could answer, Aurora gasped, pointing once again. "Look, Professor!" she called, her Scottish accent much more pronounced due to her fear. "Th-that big one is making... more of them!"

She wasn't the only one who gasped upon seeing it. What appeared to be a gigantic pale green whale with a red-and-gold crown atop its head was flying—yes, flying, flapping its over-sized fins like wings—around the outskirts of the city, its cruel red eyes narrowed. Then, rearing back its head as if to take a deep breath, it snapped its jaw open and spewed out a puff of purple mist, out of which popped another horde of hideous creatures.

"I say!" Sycamore couldn't help but shout. Aside from just being monumentally gross, the idea of a monster that puked up more monsters was downright terrifying. Briefly, he allowed himself to wonder if the whale-like creature had an endless supply of allies constantly being created in its stomach. He hoped to God not. "Raymond!" The ground shook under them as something collided with the ship's hull. "Land wherever you can before we crash instead!"

The aircraft banked sharply as Raymond jerked the wheel aside, throwing her passengers about like ragdolls. "Hold on!" he yelled over the chaos, veering sharply away from the center of the action and heading for the largest empty space he could find.

Emmy quickly turned to Layton and Luke, both of whom were still staring at the green thing. "Luke!" she yelled, snapping him out of his reverie. As soon as he'd turned and begun paying attention, something slammed roughly into the Bostonius once again, making the vessel tilt and nearly knocking them both off of their feet. "If you know anything, now would be the time to share!"

All eyes were on him in an instant, even Raymond looking away from the wheel for a split second before refocusing. Uncertainty flashed across his face and he shot a sidelong glance at his mentor, who merely set his mouth into a grim line—this was something Luke would have to consider on his own.

Before he could come to a decision, another impact, this one even harsher, threw the airship off course, sending them spinning. The sudden change in motion sent all of them sprawling, Raymond included, and, with no one to man the wheel, the ship's nose dipped and she plummeted towards the ground.

Just when Luke was sure they were going to hit the ground and be crushed within a mangled claw of red-painted metal, their sudden descent stopped entirely and the ship became motionless. Her occupants slammed into the floor, Sycamore's glasses breaking along the bridge and his nose following suit. Emmy was similarly unlucky, as her arm was caught under her and wrenched right out of socket.

For a moment, the only sound was the dangerous creaking of metal as the Bostonius groaned and dented. As the figurative dust settled, Layton dragged himself to his feet, rushing to the others' aid. "Is everyone quite alright?" he called as the ship's lights flickered out, leaving them in only the faint light filtering in through the windshield.

Emmy rose unsteadily to her feet with a wince, tightly gripping her dislocated shoulder. "Alright over here," she half-fibbed as Layton helped Luke and Aurora to their feet. Luckily, both children seemed unharmed, save a few minor scrapes and bruises. "What about you, Professor Sycamore?" she asked, turning to face him and Raymond.

He seemed the worst off: blood was streaming down his face from his broken nose, which he had remembered to pinch shut a little too late. As he turned to face her, his busted glasses toppled off of his face and hit the ground below with a clink, leaving his eyes to squint themselves shut in their wake. "Ugh," he groaned, halfway between exasperated and exhausted.

With a sudden metallic screech, the floor under them shook, eliciting another shriek from Aurora. Without another shred of warning, a flash of purple tore through the Bostonius's hull like tissue paper, ripping the entire top of the vessel clean off and exposing her passengers to the brisk London air.

That was when they got their first look at cruelty personified.

The remaining scrap of the Bostonius was clutched tightly in a purple-skinned hand bulging with pulsing red veins. Long fingernails—more of claws than anything, really—pinched into the metal like it was nothing, keeping it pinned in place. Attached to the hand was a dark purple arm with long red tattoos running up and down it, and attached to the arm was a purple-and-red-skinned "man" that towered above them, at least the height of a couple skyscrapers stacked on top of one another. The "man's" wild, wispy hair floated about him in a mix of purple and red that faded to green at the tips, and his eyes were only red pinpricks.

"Oh, my." Unexpectedly, the creature spoke, his voice booming but dripping with fiendish bloodlust. "I thought I sensed something interesting here, and it looks like I was right."

Reaching another hand down into the speechless crowd after discarding the top half of the Bostonius, the thing stuck a fingernail through the collar of Luke's blue cardigan, plucking him out of the bunch. A cry of fear escaped the boy against his will as two other fingers crushed against him from either side, pinning him in place and making his ribcage groan in protest.

"Luke!" Layton cried, feeling a pulse of fear enter his own voice. He jumped forward, reaching up to catch the boy around the ankle, but a simple flick from one of the giant purple fingers sent him flying back, crashing into one of the Bostonius's many control panels. Luke opened his mouth to call his mentor's name, but a squeeze from the fingers reduced his voice to a choked gasp of pain.

Emmy rushed to the Professor's side, but he was already propping himself up on quaking arms, his eyes fixed firmly on Luke's weakly struggling form. "Didn't expect to see an angel here so fast." All five other members of the Bostonius crew were far too shocked to comprehend the word "angel", so none of them reacted. "Well, not quite an angel, I suppose. You're clearly half-bred," came the mocking drawl. The grip around Luke's chest only tightened, so he could respond with nothing but a wet wheeze as the breath was wrangled right out of his lungs. "Or more like half-dead at this point. And here I was excited for a fi—"

"Let go of him!"

Blinking once at the unexpected voice, the not-quite-man glanced to the side just in time to see a pinwheel of yellow, white, and brown. Emmy's boot slammed into his knuckle in a vicious flying kick that was strong enough to bend the joint back the wrong way before she somersaulted back to the Bostonius floor. This loosened his grip just enough for Luke to wriggle free, and the boy plummeted towards the tile, only to land safely in Emmy's arms.

Coughing and hacking, Luke desperately sucked in air that knifed through his sore chest. Emmy quickly launched them backwards, trying to distance them from the huge hands that hovered overhead, but the motion was pointless, because the "man" didn't seem fazed at all. "My, my—not bad," he offered, although he sounded anything but sincere. His finger bent back into place with a crack. "Although hardly necessary. I never understood why mortals feel the need to delay the inevitable."

Finally getting some air back into his lungs, Luke forced his eyes open, still panting for breath. Emmy was crouched to the ground, her arms wrapped around him protectively, and both Professors were at her sides, Layton pushing Aurora behind him. "H-Hades," he croaked, eyes travelling up to the blurry magenta figure that stood before him.

With a simple swipe of a multicolored hand, the adults and emissaries were swept aside, leaving Luke alone. Mercifully (although he doubted it was mercy; probably just a sadistic need to play with his food), Hades didn't try squeezing him like a human lemon again. "Well, look who's back. Ladies and gents, the world's smallest lung capacity." Sarcasm was thick in the Lord of the Underworld's voice as he offered fake applause. "Honestly, you'd think even a half-breed could last a little longer than that... Luke, was it?" Luke didn't even flinch.

Collecting what remained of his glasses, Sycamore held them to his face and scrutinized the huge figure. "Hades as in the god of the dead in Greek mythology?" he whispered, feeling rather sick. There were only so many reality-shattering revelations a man could take in the span of five minutes.

For the second time in the past two days, Layton responded with a murmur of "Surely that's impossible..."

Luke, however, had long since gotten over his initial fear and was left with just bitter abhorrence. "Hades," he spat again, pushing himself to his feet and stubbornly refusing to stumble. "Last time I checked, you were dead. What, did Thanatos run out of soda and get bored?" The boy's fists clenched as he took a step closer, glaring steadfastly at the god who'd tried to end the world thousands of years ago. "Or maybe coming back from the dead is just a regular thing for you. You know. Like a cockroach."

A long, low whistle. "Oh, look. Bluster. How original."

Luke rolled his eyes. "Oh, look. Sarcasm. How original."

Ignoring that last comment, Hades continued, "You shouldn't be so surprised—distract Thanatos with a shiny object and he'll leave the back door wide open." Here, he pouted slightly, if the lord of darkness could pout. "Even though miss Medusa was being a total spoilsport."

"Oh, I'm so sorry someone rained on your parade like that. I'm sure it was such a bother." By this point, Luke's voice was almost as sarcasm-ridden as Hades'. "Yeah, tell that to all the people you've killed. Oh, wait! You can't. Because they're dead. Logic."

Hades shrugged, completely unaffected by Luke's attitude. "Well, dead people always were my specialty. With corpses, there's none of that pesky small talk or running away screaming. Just blissful silence and a nice treat." With a long sigh, he rest his chin in his hand like a dreamy schoolgirl. "And, of course, more fuel for my army. Although it's still not as large as I'd like it to be."

Luke's eyes narrowed. "...you came back to kill as many people as possible before Palutena catches wind."

"Ding, ding, Luke Triton. Tell the boy what he's won." The mockery was evident in Hades' slow clap even without the aid of his voice.

Crossing his arms, the brunette shifted his weight, raising one eyebrow. "If we're talking prizes, an ounce or two of common decency would be nice."

Hades whistled, shaking his head in mock shame. "Ooh, fresh outta decency. I'm sorry; would you like a cookie?"

A snort. "I didn't think the mighty Lord of the Underworld would deign to lower himself to such childishness. I guess I was wrong. Then again, maturity was never really your thing, was it? I mean, Phosphora is more grounded than you, and she literally flies everywhere."

Meanwhile, the two Professors, Emmy, Aurora, and Raymond were gawking at the audacious display from the normally reserved Luke, not to mention the almost playful bickering between the two. They were acting like old rivals, not like a little boy talking to a god of death and destruction. Not that they could follow half of what was being said; the names being thrown around buzzed in one ear and out the other.

Hades opened his mouth to respond, but stopped midway. Suddenly, bellowing laughter ripped through the air, shaking the Bostonius so much that Luke staggered, then fell back into Raymond's pilot chair. "Oh, I see what you're doing." Luke's stomach flipped, a sudden ball of weight curling up in it. "You're stalling for time. Truly a classic technique, little Luke."

It happened so quickly, that no one could really react. It was all the adults could do to stare in horror as Hades' hand flashed forward and grabbed Luke as easily as one grabs a fork or spoon. "A noble effort, to be sure," he drawled, squeezing Luke's form in his fist; something cracked and Luke gasped in pain, arm straining to reach his bag. There had to be something in there that could save him. "But completely useless in the end. See you in the Underworld, little Luke."

"Stop!"

Layton's head snapped to the side as Aurora suddenly charged out from behind him, beating even Emmy to the punch. She was glowing slightly with bright blue light, and her hair was streaming out alongside her despite the relative lack of wind. "Stop it!" she cried, the fear in her voice evident but backed up with just enough assertiveness. "Let him go! He hasn't done anything to you!"

At this, Hades laughed again, although his good humor was clearly dwindling. "How quaint. Girlie, I don't think you get it. That's the point." He paused, looking her up and down, then grinned cruelly. "But I guess I might as well kill two birds with one stone, little miss Azran." With that, his fingers opened just long enough to catch Aurora within them as well, crushing her taller frame against Luke's.

Winding up his arm with a wicked grin, he chortled out, "Batter up!"

They went flying.

"NO!"

None of them knew who had yelled. It could've been any one of them; it could even have been a couple of them; or maybe it was them all in unison. All they knew was terror as they heard Aurora's high-pitched scream fade into the distance, both children's small bodies plummeting to the ground below.

Hades let go of the Bostonius.

After that, everything was a blur. They tumbled through the air with the hull of the Bostonius like a box full of dolls, the ground spinning closer and closer, and then—

Fwoom!

Suddenly, they were snatched up from the air, a flash of impossibly bright light momentarily blinding them. The whinnying of horses echoed in their ringing ears as the wind was suddenly impossibly strong, tearing away their body heat and threatening to tear away their clothing, too. As it was, the Professor's top hat went flying, as did Emmy's camera. In the next instant, they were thrown down to a hard surface, piling on top of one another, and then the wind was gone, replaced by the distant sounds of London's destruction.

"You four alright there?"

Layton peeled himself off of the bottom of what seemed to be a chariot, untangling himself from the mess of other bodies there. "I am," he assured without looking up at the source of the voice, instead focusing on helping the other three rise unsteadily to their feet. "Is everyone else?" For a moment, he caught himself looking for Luke among them; then he remembered and, despite himself, nearly felt tears well up.

"He's gone."

Emmy was the only one who didn't rise, instead remaining curled up in the bottom of the chariot, staring blankly at the side of it. "He's gone," she repeated disbelievingly, voice cracking. "They're both gone." Her eyes squeezed shut, and Layton got the distinct impression that she was fighting back tears. "Luke... Aurora..."

That was when there was a small, uneasy laugh from behind them and all four adults froze. Even Raymond could identify that laugh, and he hadn't spent nearly as much time with the boy as the others.

"Miss me?"

Slowly, incredulously, they turned around.

Behind them, flying about five feet off the ground, was Luke. Cradled in his arms was the pink-clad form of Aurora, and she looked just as awestruck as they all felt. His jacket was long gone, and his sleeves were rolled up; in one hand, he held what appeared to be a large, intricate bow with pale gold and crystal blue markings, and a gleaming crown of golden laurels was hugging his usual blue cap.

And there were two large white wings sprouting out of his back.

Oh, yeah.

I did.

I made Luke part angel.

MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Anyway.

Next time! Luke and his angel buddies save London and then explanations are in order! How, exactly, is Luke part-angel? And what did Layton know about all this? And what ever happened to Sycamore's glasses?! You'll have to wait and see because I'm a sadistic, sadistic lady!

Ta-ta!