Sophia's Chronicles

Recap: Sophia ended up in her doppelganger's universe—the one who had married Michael instead. Michael took her to Rigalia, which is the capital of the archangels in the other world (like Heaven). She is locked out of the Void, so she has to find the ingredients she needs to open a portal to get back and Lucifer decides to help her. In our universe, Lucifer had pretended to be an angel to convince a lone pastor Jim Pickens that he was special and needed to do God's work, which included killing his own town in a grand feast using poisoned pufferfish. The angels, on the other hand, had indoctrinated human soldiers to fight off the demon scourge on the planet caused by Lucifer's rise to power, especially since Lucifer reverse Uno-carded a smiting back to Heaven.

Chapter 93: Freaky Friday

Rigalia, Some Universe

It was a good thing that I got back when I did. I heard sounds of argument outside the bedroom door. Quickly, I stashed the cloak into the closet and rushed to clear the books from the dresser.

"Sir, she said not to let anyone in," I heard the guard's muffled voice.

"I'm her husband, dammit!" More aggressive pounding on the door eventually gave way and Michael stormed in just as I shut a drawer. Once he saw me, the fire behind his irises soothed. All that was left was an eerie quietness in askance. "Why didn't you answer?"

"I… was resting. In the other room," I pointed behind myself at the inner garden room. "Just needed some time to gather myself."

That seemed to assuage him. "You could've asked your servants to help. And you haven't even gotten out of that armour," he pointed out.

"I'm perfectly comfortable as is," I monotonously said. He looked at me deeply again. I struggled to keep up my strong defences. With a slight turn of the head, he shut the doors to the room. I sensed a talking-to coming.

"Is there something going on?" he asked softly, stepping closer. "The cruarchs said you chased them out before they could prepare you for the meeting. This isn't like you."

"Maybe I just need some alone-time. Did you think about that?" I rebutted.

"Alone-time is all you've been having since you returned," he shot back. "This isn't the way to behave, Sophia."

If there were words to send rage through me all at once, those were it. "Don't ever speak to me like that," I warned, eyes frozen wide. He reciprocated the frown but was taken aback. "I am your wife. Not a child."

I swept my hair back with a hand and sat defiantly at the dresser. "I know that, but do you?" he pressed. "I haven't seen you once take any responsibility since arriving here. I just want to know why you're acting like this. So… closed-off. You used to tell me everything. You used to say, 'Duty above all'. So we fought once. I thought we were past that."

"We are," I added, not wanting to go through that again. "I don't know why you're arguing with me."

Silence punctuated our conversation, before he placed a hand on my shoulder and his voice returned. "So be it," he dismissed wearily. "I should hope that seeing your sisters reminds you of what's at stake here. Your family needs you. Trust is lacking and direction is ambivalent. Your confidence and determination in defeating our little pest problem will give them the enthusiasm that they need to stand behind us again." His hand attempted to massage my shoulder but I had never been more stiff. He leaned in closer to my ear, tightening his grip. "So I'm asking you, if not for me, perhaps for this universe of yours, remedy this attitude and act like the Archon you have always been. Let me remind you that your obligation is here first, and the Void second."

Every miniscule movement of mine was under his immense scrutiny. I feared that the slightest twitch would give me away. So I said nothing, even as he unclasped the back of my armour.

"Let's find you something more appropriate to wear," he unravelled the laces at the back of the chest-piece and the shoulder pads, causing them to peel away from the smooth black fabric underneath. With his expectant glare on me, I picked out something to wear. When I urged him to give me some privacy, a sullenness fell over him but he did not deny me. The long, flowing black dress was pinched at the waist and had laced sleeves reaching to my elbows. I was ready to leave but he was still unsatisfied. "Your crown?"

The obsidian crown rested easily on my head. Its thin, crooked columns reached up like a little prison. Fine inscriptions in gold read a divine affirmation of its power while impressive crystals embellished the sigils. I could get used to this. It finally appeared that Michael was assuaged and we marched towards the other end of the level, hand in hand. We were back in the room with the sturdy table and balcony where a few others had congregated. My own heart wanted to stop.

The anti-Archs' eyes lit up so eagerly. All I felt was an avalanche of hugs and kisses. I was not expecting such a warm welcome, let alone from such… oddly familiar faces. I was positive that I had never seen any of them before yet I somehow felt like I knew them. All of them had archangel eyes but with black sclerae, much like my own Dark form, and a grey (but not dull by any means) pallor characteristic of Mother's creations. There was Erin, the Sage with the meditative hazel-brown aura. Therin, Warrior of salamander fury. And Sova, the Healer with a lavender glow about her. Forty-Two's sisters.

What could I do but display some meek smiles and gestures in hopes that this would pass? When they had returned to their seats, all on one side of the table, I saw a bored Lucifer watching all of this from opposite them. When I was cleared from their ambush, his eyes scanned me from head to toe and his lips stretched a lascivious grin. Seeing that, Michael placed himself in the seat between us.

"How long has it been, Sister?" Therin began in her rich, unwavering voice. "You didn't think to visit us not once?"

"We were beginning to worry," Sova added with a more silvery tone. "Your omens had been feeling a little sparse. We feared the worst."

I could sense Michael's tense inhale. "She's well, as you can see," he gestured to me. Unlike their animated and eager dispositions, Michael and Lucifer were rather aloof and blunted in affect. Having lived on their side of the universe my whole life, the difference in mannerisms were stark. I hadn't realised how much I'd gotten used to these masculine traits.

"And quiet," Therin pointed out with a huff. "What's wrong, Adhya? Did the male folk finally tame you?"

"Tame her?" Lucifer smirked. "You give my brother too much credit."

"What other explanation is there, then?" Erin chimed in this time. "She's been so absent, we thought she might have gone the way of Amara!"

The women erupted in giggles and I weakly reciprocated. "I'm here, now, because Michael brought up some concerns," I began. I hoped they couldn't see me plucking words out of thin air. "I wish I could've made it earlier, but as you know, I've been away."

"And where… exactly?" Erin asked, leaning back into her chair. The other sisters shared the same concerned look.

"There were some disturbances," Michael interjected on my behalf. "In… Purgatory. I know that place seems a little too normal for you, but back where we're from, that kind of situation is messy. Can we get to the matter at hand?"

"Is that why you're insistent on mobilising your army to Necropolis?" Sova questioned, eyebrow raised. "The way our people are—it's just messy to you? I want to know what my sister thinks about this."

All eyes were on me. "I…"

"She agrees with-" Michael said.

"I said," Sova cut him off decisively. "I want to hear from my sister."

I was at once both amazed and unsettled. "If Michael thinks that this is something that needs to be addressed, I… trust his judgment," I shrugged. "There is dissidence rising in Necropolis and we should quell it before it becomes something bigger."

Michael nodded solemnly, gaze sweeping over the table. I was relieved. Until Therin had something to say. "But this happens all the time. Necropolis is the most unstable, chaotic land known to all of us. The moment they form some semblance of order, prop up some leader to challenge us, it all comes crashing down again. That's just how they are. Sister, you know this," she persisted. "Tell us why your husband really wants to go in on Necropolis."

Michael did not like that. "See what I mean?" he told me. "They refuse to see the problem for what it is. It's not just 'another leader'—this specimen was trained by the Order of the Grave. Their powers are far too mysterious for our liking and their leader has lasted way longer than any of her predecessors. This revolution is here to stay, whether we like it or not."

"Let's consider, for the sake of argument, that your judgment is sane," Erin gestured with a hand. "Your solution is for us to resign all control to you? And let your angels trample all over our land?"

"What you're asking, is for our people to obey you," Sova added. "You were supposed to leave us our sovereignty to rule as we wished. We already have this situation, and several others like it, under control. That's why our other siblings couldn't make it here. They're out there guarding the realms."

There's more? I wondered.

"You're also forgetting the most important thing about Necropolis," Therin continued. "It's the epicentre of Dark energies. The rest of our universe depends on the anger, the misery and desperation of Necropolitans almost boiling over. You cannot just march in and threaten our power source."

Lucifer sighed. "I'd be upset if Michael tried to tell me how to rule Hell too," he shrugged. His chin sunk deeper into his supporting palm.

"Not helping," Michael sternly warned him. "Sophia, back me up here."

I cleared my throat. "What Michael is trying to say, is that we should face this head-on, together," I said, avoiding everyone's gazes. "What's the point of saying 'our' this or 'your' that? Michael is trying to protect the delicate equilibrium between our universes. Isn't that why we're all here? You think of it as an invasion of rights, but maybe it's a chance for us to prove that we can all look out for each other. Today, you let the angels do their 'Passover special' in Necropolis and tomorrow, we let the cruarchs thin out the Leviathan herd in Purgatory."

From the corner of my eye, I noticed the gradual incline of Michael's brows. "We will?" he whispered at my side.

"Truly, a master of compromise," Lucifer complimented. With a wide grin, he downed his glass of wine in one gulp. I suspected that his glee was born solely out of Michael's apparent discomfort.

"What you say… sounds reasonable," Erin conceded, though uncertainly. "I didn't realise that Heaven's archangels were suddenly so comfortable with our cruarchs' powers. Normally, your kind would recoil in horror."

"Well, there has to be a first time for everything," I smiled warmly. Almost immediately, I saw the same warmth twinkling in their eyes. It sparked an absurd tenderness in my chest. "Isn't that right, Michael?"

"Yes… dear," he said reluctantly.

"If this is what our Archon desires," Therin agreed. "We should expect shared trainings and weapon exchanges between the angels and cruarchs."

"And celestial transferences," Sova further stated.

"And gifts of scholarship," Erin piled on.

"Never miss an opportunity, do you?" Michael muttered under his breath. "Fine," he took a deep inhale. "It's done."

Soon, a contract was drawn up and what was spoken was immortalised on parchment. By this time, 'night' had fallen over Rigalia. Unsurprisingly, this signalled the rise of the incandescent moon which shined light over the lands. Some saturation returned to the colours but everything remained of dark essence. Interestingly, 'torches' that sucked brightness from the surroundings were lit along the walls. Lucifer was the first to sign his name. "I'm embarrassed to sign a deal so fair," he protested jokingly. "I shall be off, then. Important things await," he eyed me for a second longer. "Ladies. Michael."

"Where's he off to?" Sova grumbled.

"To give our whorehouses good business, probably," Therin huffed. "Wonder what kind of heartbreak made him lose direction in life."

Oh. Some things started to make sense now. I thought back to my Lucifer. I could imagine so vividly how upset he'd be if I had left him the same way that my doppelganger did. Is this where it all ends? I wondered bleakly what I would come home to. For both our sakes, I hoped he still had some faith in me. But what would I do if he didn't?

"My brother chose his own path," Michael stated, snapping me out of my thoughts. "If he chooses to be a degenerate, that's on him."

"And what does it say about his elder brother who just left him to suffer?" Erin pointed out. "We didn't give up on our brother, Rumi, when he believed that Amara was wrong in compromising with God. Look at him now, spreading the glory of our great Archon to the furthest reaches of the universe."

"You have no idea-"

"Michael, please," I quieted him before he could speak his mind. I was highly experienced with the temper tantrums of archangels so this was an easy choice. "She means well."

When the meeting was adjourned, it was just Michael and me. "What the hell was that?" he questioned, clearly bothered.

"I thought it went well," I earnestly said. "They're going to let you do as you wish with Necropolis. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"You promised them that the cruarchs could cross over into our world. You know how this makes us feel," he uttered with force behind every word. "That kind of energy in Heaven… it's unnatural. How can a sanctuary overflowing with God's Light ever welcome beings of shadow and gloom?"

"It sounds to me like you have a little bit of a prejudice problem," I all but rolled my eyes. "I mean, our angels are stationed here. Not to mention Lucifer. They've been welcoming to all of us. We could return the favour."

"What's gotten into you, Sophia?" He ran both his hands into his hair and down the sides of his face. "You know that I just made up that banter about Purgatory. Purgatory hasn't been a problem for ages. That farce is now part of an empyrean contract. What have you done?"

"You're the one who brought me here, Michael," I sombrely maintained, crossing my arms. "Don't put this on me. Makes me wonder what your real intentions are with Necropolis."

"Makes you wonder? You know what I want," he frowned deeply, inspecting me with a tenacity I wasn't used to. "The plan was always to get them under our heel. Don't you remember?"

Okay, I may have miscalculated on that one. "I do… but just…" I stuttered and shrugged. "Things went so well. They were willing to concede."

"We don't want concession. We want submission," Michael affirmed. "Your siblings think that letting things run amok and cleaning up after with brute force is what it means to have control. You and I both know that that's obtuse. Our current arrangement benefits both our sides, sure, but with every conflict they fail to prevent, it's our end of the trade that's compromised. This can't keep happening. We need to seize sovereignty from them."

My jaw tightened. So this is who you become, huh? It wasn't hard for me to imagine that the very same Michael that my Lucifer scorned would be this cold-hearted and megalomaniacal. "Well I did the best that I could to put that in diplomatic terms," I stood up with a sigh.

"Where are you going?" he asked. "We need to make arrangements."

"I just want to clear my head. Do I need your permission for that too?" I groused. Luckily, he kept his mouth shut as I retreated to the bedroom.

Somewhere in Ohio – February 2013

The sky was pitch black at this macabre hour. Human eyes dared not check the dark corners where shadows were strongest, except for the select few who had been touched by angels. The Children of God, they called themselves. All dressed in pressed white shirts and dresses, they patrolled the places others dared not. When the clock struck three, they returned to the dilapidated church with their bounty.

"You think I fear you virgins?" the demoness spat blood at them. She was bound to a chair inside a Devil's Trap, outside of which the angel's chosen stood in a circle with their hands linked. Hanging in clumps, her greasy dark hair obstructed the maniacal glee written across her jaw. Though the circle made her heave heavy breaths, her bulging eyes portrayed no weakness. "I who feed on your flesh and drink your blood have undeath eternal, lovelies."

The leader of the circle, a lean adolescent boy with parted hair, led them in prayer. "Princeps gloriosissime caelestis militiae, sancte Michael Archangele, defende nos in proelio adversus principes et potestates, adversus mundi," they chanted.

The demoness roared with an inhuman might. "You fools!" she hissed. The words twisted and turned in her skull, thrashing her spirit about in her mortal vessel. "Satan has risen! He will bring me back, and you will receive your fair penance!"

"Rectores tenebrarum harum, contra spiritalia nequitiae, in caelestibus. Veni in auxilium hominum, quos Deus ad imaginem similitudinis suae fecit, et a tyrannide diaboli emit pretio magno…"

Their tempo grew with every verse, as did the force behind their words. The demoness' howls and moans of gloom made the younger of the Children break out in a freezing sweat—such was the prickly determination of her vocal chords. Still, they held fast until the end of the prayer. She thrashed and tossed about in her chair. The protests of her unholy spirit tugged at the human skin until burns and pustules etched themselves on her face, neck and chest. "You cannot contain me!" she screeched. "You cannot! Never! Ave Satanas! The Dark Lord is my armour!"

"Offer nostras preces in conspectu Altissimi, ut cito anticipent nos misericordiae Domini, et apprehendas draconem, serpentem antiquum, qui est diabolus et Satanas, et ligatum mittas in abyssum, ut non seducat amplius gentes…"

The chorus emanated from the depths of their pubescent diaphragms, exploding with energy as they spat it out against the evil spirit. The angelic support was unmistakable; the lights began to flicker, Zion winds were stirred and the ground rumbled beneath them. It was certain that the demon wouldn't last against such firepower.

"AMEN!"

The demoness' mouth was pried wide open. Her head shot back in rigid shock. Complete silence fell over them. She remained like this but the crucial indication was missed. No black smoke, nothing.

"Is…" one of the girls meekly began. "Is she gone?"

Dark veins spread out from the demon's eyes and lips. Mouth still agape, her lips stretched with ear-bound trajectories. "Did you think it'd be so easy…" she smirked, bringing her chin down to enjoy their Satan-fearing trances. "If only you knew the things we do to your kind down in Pandemonium. I see the desire in your eyes, boy…" she stared deep into the leader's skull. "…it's not too late to join the other side."

She licked her lips as if to marinate them. "This isn't over," he asserted with a tight jaw. "Don't lose faith, my brethren. The angel warned us this would happen. Beseech the Lord."

And so they began the next prayer. "Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name, save us from the time of trial and deliver us from evil…"

Shrieking in laughter, the demon bawled, "Our Father who art in Hell, unhallowed be thy name, cursed be the sons and daughters of thy nemesis who art to blame!"

Yet again, the end of their incantation was met with wicked taunts. Despite the cold twilight breeze, waves of heat settled upon their bodies. The circle was briefly adjourned so they could convene in submission before the altar. Outside, the two teenage boys who had been assigned to stand guard were fighting the fatigue in their eyes. One of them let out a long yawn. The other one was just about to jibe at his partner when movement caught his eye. "Hey, look," he snapped the other one awake.

A dark figure in a thick coat, hands in his pockets, stepped into the lone light illuminating the front. He bore a gentle smile and a silver beard. "Who goes there?" one of the boys asked, voice cracking.

"Fear not, dear Children," he took off his fedora, revealing the grey hairs peppering his balding head, and respectfully held it against his chest. "Father Jim Pickens, at your service."

"But… how?" the boy wondered, exchanging a look of awe with his comrade.

"I heard your prayers," Jim reassured them. "By God, it was loud. If I'm not mistaken, my services may be of use to you, might they not?"

"If you'll excuse me for one moment, Father," the boy bowed and excused himself to consult the leader of the Children. That left Jim and the other kid alone with the chirping insects.

"Say, what's a child like you doing hunting demons?" Jim pondered in a 1930s accent.

"Th- the angels told me to, s-sir," the boy stuttered, partly due to the cold.

"Sonny-boy, even devils were once angels," Jim sighed, shifting his weight from one leg to another. "Those who are gullible may find themselves in a true pickle, it's true."

"B-but it was real," the boy defended. "I saw their Heavenly light, sir. It couldn't have been a deception."

"We'll know in the end, won't we? Who walks with God and who with the sinner."

The boy blew warm air on his palms and rubbed them together. He had no good responses to what the pastor had said. Thoughts of Hellfire swirled in his head, especially to see the morning star twinkling in the sky, almost like a mischievous wink.

"Say, that buddy of yours is taking his own sweet time," Jim checked his watch. A rustling broke the night's silence, drawing both of their undivided gazes. The boy stepped towards the edge of the porch, curious. "You should check that out," Jim suggested. Seeing the boy's hesitant demeanour, he urged, "God's light be with you."

Just then the kid from earlier emerged through the doors with their leader, who instantly asked, "Did the angels send you?"

"Not angels plural, no, but a lone angel, God's own son, hath come to me in the very same realm of dream where they recruited you," Jim uttered with the consistency of butter. "His eyes were an endless depth of fire, a sea ablaze. It is by his command that I have sought the Children of God."

"Very well, then," the leader beckoned him in with a tilt of the head. The boy, still entranced by the disturbance in the foliage, ventured into the unknown despite his partner's warnings. A long moment passed and the boy had yet to return.

"Jeremy?" the remaining guard stared into the darkness. No answer came. He too stepped down the porch, following his friend's footsteps. He parted a large leaf. Something sticky left a residue on his palm. He sniffed it, only to recoil at the pungent metallic whiff. That's when he saw his friend. A gasp was stuck in his throat. Jeremy was stood taut against the bark of a tree, eyes half-closed. The reason for his perfect posture had become obvious – he was nailed to the tree by a single knife stapled through his throat. "No!"

He ran towards the dead one. A single step in the wrong square foot triggered a click, pulling a rope in a hidden contraption. With a snap, another knife soared through the air to lodge itself in the curious boy's carotid artery. He fell to the ground choking on his own blood and seizing up in an effort to resist. But death would have the last laugh.

"As you can see, she's a persistent one," the lead exorcist told Jim. As they entered the clearing in the middle meant for the demon, the other Children and the she-demon were engaged in a battle of devotion. Each of their sanctified verses were met with the demon's unholy rebuttal.

"Hail Mary full of Grace, the Lord is with thee…"

"Hail Sophia full of Disgrace, Lucifer is with thee!"

"Blessed are thou amongst women…"

"Cursed are thou amongst witches!"

"Oh my, it's worse than I thought," Jim remarked with a controlled gasp.

"Have you seen anything like it?" the teenager asked.

"So many in one place, no," Jim was fixated on the scene before him. "The Lord has herded all his sheep in one place. It's a feast tonight for the wolves."

"I'm… I'm sorry?" the kid tilted his head. A faint stirring in his gut grew as he turned to look at the Pastor, but of course, Pickens was eerily focused on the ritual. Unknowable calculations wrote themselves in his mind.

"Don't be," Jim fished out a pair of sleek night-vision goggles from his coat. "These are trying times, and it ain't no happenstance that the Devil turned your faith against you, boy. You really think you work for angels? I know it's an honour but I'm sorry to say, only one man on this planet's been chosen by an angel. The Lord's messenger revealed that all others are harbingers of evil. Can't be me, so it's gotta be you."

In the same breath, Jim pulled out a silenced gun in a swift, smooth motion and aimed for the single overhead light. Sparks flew and glass shards sprayed down, landing in harsh cuts on some of them. Before the leader could react, a bullet was lodged in his forehead. Some of the others began to cry or scream, but that only made it easier for Jim to aim the gun in their direction. While he finished the ones who were rooted to the ground in shock, another had rushed to grab a shotgun. Jim barely dodged the pellet as it unfairly splintered a wooden bench. He rushed to the cover offered by the bench as another shot missed him. Luckily, an opportunity presented itself.

He grabbed an injured girl and held her before him as he stood to confront the one wielding the shotgun. That gave the kid pause, making him lower the gun ever so slightly. Rookie mistake. While they were exchanging teary-eyed glances, Jim coldly fired at the kid before he could respond, and finished the girl off promptly. The demon, of course, was watching all of this with unabated interest. "Ma'am, would you mind playing your part?" Jim asked her, shooting the devil's trap to rupture its integrity.

As soon as he did so, she shook her wrists just once to escape the ropes. "Oh I'll play alright," she vowed, senses growing heightened at the trembling of her captors. With Jim picking up the shotgun and the demon screeching a battle cry, the Children of God were no more. When they were done, she slowly rose from the corpse she'd just vivisected, blood running down her hands and chin, and turned to him. "You're him… aren't you?"

"So it is confirmed. I was right all along," Jim deduced. "I am the chosen one. You recognise me."

He smirked, beaming with pride as he put his fedora back on. She retained her crooked scowl but her silence was as much solidarity as she could offer.

"Thank you," he uttered from the depths of his heart. "I know I've been in God's service for years, longer than these Children were ever alive. If it ain't so adorable that these kids thought God's angel would choose them over me, I might have some regrets."

"You're doing good work, Jim," the demon praised. "You're worthy of the title."

"Strange as it is to hear God's affirmations through the mouth of one so profane as you, who am I to question His ways?" he ruminated. "All I know is that I was sent to stop those false Chosen from spreading their blasphemous mission across the lands. For that, I suppose the Lord has pardoned you, fiendish one, to continue in your ways. So off you go, then, and find me more of these Children of God. We shall put this corrupt Order to rest."

Heaven

"Watch your step," an angel warned.

Naomi stepped carefully around the fissure on the ground. It was one of many which contained toxic levels of God's power shielding Heaven from other realms. One misstep and it could cause severe burns to the angel. They knew this, unfortunately, because of the numerous angels rushed to the Infirmary. An angel's agony was no mere cry of pain—it was the unstable, lashing out of a celestial body which only added to the existing frenzy.

"Jedidiah, what's the status of the Sanctum Sanctorum?" she inquired as she marched towards said destination. The angel at her side carefully avoided the cracks and the other desperate angels around them struggling to keep all the structures from falling apart.

"Not good, ma'am," Jedidiah reported. "There seems to be a leak somewhere."

"A leak?" Naomi puzzled.

"The souls are escaping. To Earth, we think. But we can't find the source of the leak," he continued. "Overall distress levels are rising. If each soul's Heaven continues down this spiral…"

"All of Heaven will crumble, I know," Naomi realised with a deep sigh. Just then, a whole structure which used to form the angels' shrine leaned dangerously. Angels flew swiftly towards it before it could collapse and precariously held the pieces together as another crew came along to repair the structure. "It was God's design to link the integrity of our home inextricably to the power of the souls and angels. How could we have known it was all just so that He could leave?"

"What should we do?" Jedidiah asked. "Only the archangels have the expertise to deal with Heaven's core workings."

"No talk of archangels could ever go over well with Raziel and his posse. Besides, we're fresh out of them," Naomi muttered. "We'll just have to face this one problem at a time."

The moment they entered the Sanctum Sanctorum, Naomi braced herself for the worst. White hallways lined with pristine doors. Not even a murmur could be heard.

"Well, isn't this a miracle?" she remarked as she placed her palm against the wall. The facility felt hearty under her touch, save for a few inklings of blemishes.

Jedidiah did the same and retracted his hand slowly, staring at it in bewilderment. "Just earlier it was throbbing with volatile energies," he remained concerned.

"We may have a fix," a third voice interrupted them. It was none other than Raziel himself who greeted them from the end of the hallway.

"Raziel," Naomi approached him with some reservation. "Is this true?"

"My Seekers and I have been working day and night on this. Allow me to show you," he led them both deeper into the maze-like configuration. The Keeper of Knowledge walked in a precise path which soon separated from the souls and led to a confined area where the strangest of sights appeared to them. On a pedestal in the centre of this little area, a cylinder of light extended from floor to ceiling. Leading up to the pedestal were platforms of fractals each containing a unique weaving of primordial sigils.

"What is this place?" Jedidiah pondered.

"This is the Anima Invictus," Raziel explained, entranced by its glow. "The soul of all souls. It's what keeps the Sanctum Sanctorum running. When Lucifer struck us, it was damaged. That's why the souls were leaking."

As he spoke, Rahab, who had been exclusively attending to the fractals that needed to be fixed, gave a nod in their direction. "We need to fix the alignment- Qué cabrón!" he cussed as a spark flared out at him from the sigil.

"Be gentle. It's a delicate thing," he warned his subordinate. Back to Naomi, he said, "It's been hard to troubleshoot but we've been finding some success with an old recipe for Tonic of Aster. It's only a temporary solution, however. The issue remains that the Anima Invictus needs to be restored to its original configuration. At our capacity, it is going to take a while."

"Interesting," Naomi glared at him, though her interest came with a frown. "Truly, it's impressive. How did you figure all of this out?"

"Keeper's intuition, let's call it that," he shrugged. "That and millennia of dedication to studying Heaven's secrets."

"Keeper, we are lucky to have you here," Jedidiah thanked. "Absolutely no one else could have figured this out."

"Except archangels," Naomi replied, refusing to spare Raziel with her keen focus. "I don't recall this being under the purview of you or the other Nalkam."

"Ever the sceptic, Naomi," he calmly rebutted as his hands dug into his coat pockets. "The Seekers seek knowledge of any kind. Our unbound curiosity comes at the benefit of the rest of angelkind."

"That may be, but the mechanisms here far predate our perceptions," Naomi pursued. "The writings are in proto-Enochian. How could you possibly have deciphered them? Unless… you had the help of someone who knew better."

"I think…" Jedidiah interfered right when their postures became too rigid for comfort. "What Naomi is trying to say, is that such things have traditionally been accessible to the archangels and God alone. But of course, you were trained to think so deeply by an archangel herself."

"Indeed," Raziel confirmed. "Should we so question solutions that work at a time like this? I'm just trying to help."

"It just seems a little too good to be true is all," Naomi relented. "But if you're really a secret master of archangel sciences, we should hope to see this side of you more often."

"With such optimism from you, certainly," Raziel sardonically replied. "If you'll excuse me, I do have to take care of the situation in the Infirmary."

"You have a remedy for everything, don't you?" she mumbled before taking her leave.

With just Raziel and Rahab left, the two released a sigh of relief. "We could abolish all evil and she'd still find a way to be suspicious," Raziel lamented.

"To be fair, she is right," Rahab contended. "You did have help from Sophia's Repository."

"It's 'We', Rahab. Don't put it all on me," Raziel defended. "These are desperate times. After all, isn't that what the Repository is for?"

"Maybe. Maybe not," Rahab remained ambivalent. "I hope Zara gave you enough answers to dodge Naomi's questions."

"I can't access the Repository myself to find out, but perhaps that's what Sophia intended. She entrusted it to Zara alone. It's probably better that way," Raziel concluded. "In any case, Naomi has her eyes on us. We have to be wary. She's always up to something."

Once Naomi and Jedidiah stepped out of the facility, she had to pause by the demolished fountain just to gather her thoughts. "Can you believe any of that?" she asked him.

Jedidiah's face contorted in confusion. "B-but the Keeper is trying to solve our problems," he worded carefully.

"Don't be so gullible. It's Raziel. He's always up to something," she swore. "How are we doing on the Children of God end?"

"Um…" Jedidiah gulped. "We haven't heard back from them in a while. Some bodies were found."

"What?" she frowned deeply.

"The cause is mysterious. What if they're being hunted?" he posited.

"That's preposterous. We bestowed upon them enough power to ward off demons," she huffed. "Why is everything going wrong at once?"

Silently, they both observed the scene before them. The task of repairing Heaven would be odious. It was a vast territory with mysterious underpinnings, all of which seemed to be unravelling all at once. The very thought of attending to every fault was daunting. It was at a time like this that the Eastward winds coalesced, bringing with it a pure, unadulterated light that almost gave Heaven its immaculate shimmer back.

"What is that?"

The remnants of Heaven's buildings were a weak visage yet their torches managed to come alight in welcome. A heavy flutter of wings sounded, the kind that was only possible with a dense array of metallic feathers unlike any that angels could have. The realisation struck a cold spike within the angels. All of them froze in the middle of their work, slowly standing or dropping their tools. The moment that those footsteps landed on the ground, there was a collective shudder. Mustering her strength, Naomi forced her legs to follow that sound. She didn't have to go too far because the white suit appeared rather distinct against the background of the infamous mural painted by Sophia—the depiction of all angels arranged in concentric circles according to rank, with God and the archangels in the centre.

Lucifer was lost in the level of detail expressed by the painting. Amidst the debris, this one stretch of wall had remained untouched. "Indestructible, isn't it?" he remarked.

"Lucifer," Naomi was the first to speak out. The other angels slowly huddled behind her. "How did you get here?"

He turned around slowly, all while looking completely unbothered. The blonde hair of his vessel appeared light under Heaven's glow. His halo was much wider than they remembered, casting its radiant rays in all tangential directions. It would have been blinding if he hadn't decided to tone it down. And his wings—he stretched all three pairs in a glorious display, allowing each and every one of his white feathers with scarlet specks to reflect light in a scattered array. As he neared the crowd, it took immense strength for them to keep their knees from collapsing. "Why, I just walked through the front door," he said. Placing both hands on his hips, he contemplated, "Seems a little busted open. Not like your guard dogs had much to work with."

Naomi's eyes widened. Some worried glances were being exchanged. "Did you-"

"They're alive," he reassured them. "Because I come here in good faith."

"What faith of yours could possibly be good?" Naomi asked bitterly.

A smirk lit up his jaw. He hung his head for a moment and turned back to them. "Look around you," he raised his palms by his side to gesture. "You tried to smite me and look what happened. You're reaping the rewards. But even for me, this is sad. After all, this used to be my home." He pressed a palm to his chest. "I can't bear to see some things go…" he looked back at the mural. "…even though the same courtesy was never extended to me."

"What are you trying to say?" Naomi said.

"It's quite simple, really," Lucifer began. "I can help you. You know I can."

A shuffling burrowed through the crowd and out came Raziel. "What are you getting out of this?" he spoke what was on everyone's mind.

"Please, why's it always so transactional with you people? Can't I do anything from the goodness of my heart?" he implored them. Before the crickets could sound, he quickly followed up, "Do you really think I want all those souls dripping onto my Kingdom on Earth? It's unsightly. You people better get your act together. So, what's it gonna be?"

"The council will deliberate on this," Raziel proclaimed. He advised the other angels to return to their posts save the twelve who formed the angels' elected. They formed a closed circle which Lucifer saw somehow as an invitation.

"Now that the rest of them are gone, we can really talk," he began keenly. The others remained silent.

"This is a private discussion," Raziel flatly informed him. "If you'll kindly wait somewhere over there."

"Jeez, tough crowd. I'll be in my office, or what's left of it," he mumbled with an eye roll. "But don't keep me waiting. I've got a planet to rule."

Heaven's tallest building, the one with the magnificent round spire in which God and the archangels once resided, laboured to remain standing. Though portions of the structure were missing, the topmost floors were largely intact save for some cracks. Once Lucifer spread his wings and ascended to his floor, the angels finally had some space to breathe.

"This has to be a trick," Duma was the first to express. "I think we all agree on that."

"Certainly," Ezekiel agreed. "We cannot give him what he wants."

Tyrus, the angel with the curious black tracksuit and gold chain around his neck, had a different take. "That's the thing. He's all-powerful. He's gonna get what he wants either way. Comes down to whether we're gonna get anything out of it too."

"That's no reason to suck up to him," Raziel argued.

"Isn't it?" Naomi wondered with a sigh.

That surprised the others for sure, especially Dinah, who said, "Naomi, you can't seriously believe what he has to say."

"Just think about everything that's happening now," Naomi rebutted, arms hugged close to herself. "We're stretched out paper thin."

"I hate to agree," Bartholomew shrugged. "We can't just sit around and wait for things to get better."

"But they will," Shemsiel argued. "We don't need anyone's help. We can do this on our own."

"Can we, though?" Naomi remained sceptical.

"You just saw what happened with the Sanctum Sanctorum," Raziel pointed out. "It's only a matter of time before we get everything up and running again."

"I have a hard time believing that, considering we don't exactly know where you're pulling your little tricks out of," she sharply asserted.

"Seriously? This isn't the time for this," Raziel reciprocated the tension.

"Please, both of you, let's calm down," Ezekiel urged.

From Lucifer's vantage point, the conversation may not have been clear, but the dynamics certainly were. Just in case, he had sent an invisible mirage of himself as a fly on the wall. He had reached the very edge of his patience before they finally sent someone to see him. A knock resounded. The door swung open.

"Thanks for coming to see me," Lucifer greeted. "Brave of you to come without your herd."

"The others are wary of you," Naomi sat opposite him at the desk. She glanced momentarily at the door, where two of her subordinates stood guard outside. "The council's decision is-"

"You don't seem too happy with it," he cut her off.

"But you haven't even heard the decision," she tilted her chin up slightly.

"I don't need to. It's some variation of 'no', isn't it? I figured that much," he admitted, resting his clasped hands as he leaned back into the chair. "Look, Naomi, aren't you tired of all this?"

"Of what?" she grew tight in her seat, unsure of where this was all going.

"Of the Council. It took you this long to come to me with an answer which you already knew they had their minds set on. So what was the point of all that blabbering?"

"We believe in due process," Naomi defended, lines of age deepening on her vessel. "The reality is that now we don't have an authority to follow. This is the best system we could come up with to run Heaven. All viewpoints are considered and weighted to come up with a solution."

"Is it really the best, though?" he questioned. "You have an acute sense of fairness, Naomi, I can tell. All I saw, was you standing your ground rightly for what I assume is a fair assessment of the odds, and the others ganging up on you to impose their emotional arguments. Yes, it's true—can't say too much from just watching all that from up here. But am I wrong?"

She took a brief moment to craft a response. "I see what you're doing," she recognised. "You're trying to sow distrust. That's not going to work."

"See, sharp as a tack," he pointed out. "I'm just saying: wouldn't it be a lot easier if they just listened to someone who knows what they're doing? Someone who'll make the hard decisions, that aren't necessarily going to be liked by everyone, but who cares? Medicine is bitter. That's how Heaven used to be, isn't it? Back when there was an actual order and the angels were a force to reckon with. Now look at you. How many of you are injured? How many forced to neglect their offices just to make sure Heaven doesn't disintegrate?"

"To be fair, a lot of this was caused by you," she countered. "Letting you have your way might be easy, but that doesn't make it right."

"Then what would be right?" he asked. She was taken aback by the question but his pause indicated that he truly expected an answer from her. "What is your solution to all of this?"

She gulped, looking down once at her hands. "Ideally, we would need the help of an archangel to patch up the damage. We are just not equipped sufficiently, even if Raziel thinks he can cook something up," she sighed. "But there are no archangels around that we can truly rely on. No offence."

"None taken," he shook his head. "I get it. I really do. You have people who rely on you and if you do something that they don't approve of, you just lose everyone's trust, regardless of the whether it works. They just see the- the surface level features and then slap a label on you." Naomi couldn't help but pay attention, even though she was determined not to be swayed by his words. "Such a far cry from what it used to be, you have to admit. I remember the old days when you worked harder than everyone to be at the top of the game. No doubt Michael and Raphael saw your acumen too. This council… the way they treat you after all your valuable experiences… I just want you to know—I see you."

Some blasphemous thought crossed her mind and she just had to look away to process things. "Whatever it is you're trying to accomplish here, it's not going to happen. The angels don't want you here."

"Okay, harsh," Lucifer shifted in his seat. "There's not much I can say to that, except look at Earth. The results speak for themselves. I'm not just here to smash Dad's toys anymore. I'm going to run things in a way no one's ever done before. With a strong hand and using whatever means necessary to impose an order. Surely, you can understand the value of such an approach." He stood up and buttoned his jacket. He sauntered over to her side, poised to leave. "If a change should befall your mind, know that confidentiality is one of my highest priorities."

Naomi could finally unclench her fists now that he was gone.

Rigalia, Some Universe

According to the map, the Sacred Forest was a good distance from the palace. It stood alone like an abandoned fortress while the bordered palace was thriving with guards and soldiers around every corner. It was a nice distraction to be out here without all those eyes on me, especially with what passed as night in this place—a cobalt sky with minimal light spreading across the lands, like if the sunrise I knew had remained shy. I could see the grass in all its desaturated beauty as it separated the forest and the palace. Venturing into the forest, I felt like myself again. This connection wasn't so bad. It reminded me of Gaia, so there was some peace to be had. A distinctly bright orb of light peeked through the tree barks. That had to be Lucifer.

"You kept your promise," he shouted from the other end of the lake as I sauntered over to him. "So you're not that much of a rebel."

"You have things that I need," I reminded him. He had been tossing balls of light over the stagnant water, watching them skip over the surface and disintegrate into little fragments that rapidly spread across the lake. "Did you get the items?"

"The Azurite, yes, but the anti-Reaper's husk is going to take a while," he tossed another piece of light.

"Why?" I demanded impatiently. "It's just a Reaper. Kind of."

"Patience, madam," he urged nonchalantly. "They don't just grow on trees. I'll find one soon enough."

Great. That probably meant I'd have to be here longer. I just stood there, staring at him, but he still seemed engrossed in his current activity. "Lucifer?"

"Hm?"

"The Azurite Dust?"

"Oh, right," he realised what I was getting at. "You'll get it. Later. After our time is up."

I rolled my eyes. "So why'd you even want me here?"

Again, not paying heed to my question, he treaded across the soil and found a nice place to sit with his legs pulled up to his chest. "Sit."

I obliged, though I kept a distance from him.

"How long has it been since we just sat like this? Just the both of us," he pondered.

"Too long," I answered, though I was recalling different memories than him.

"I just think about everything that happened. Way too often maybe," he admitted. There was a kind of acceptance about him, though there were murky waters under the surface.

"You're definitely one to hold a grudge," I pointed out.

"And you're awfully calm, considering everything," he rebutted. "I have to admit, seeing your disposition to me change like this was a little suspicious. I'm more used to your glower."

"Well I can't care about those things anymore," I observed the gentle ripples lapping on the lake's surface towards the shore. "There's an unknowable force of hatred unleashed in the Void. I need to put it to rest before it spills over to our world. It's a little more pertinent than whatever happened between us."

"Wow, are you even the same person?" he huffed. "No seriously, what you did at that meeting earlier—came completely out of left field."

"You seemed very agreeable to my proposal," I recalled.

"Yeah, because it was decidedly not what Michael wanted. I've never seen you blatantly disregard his opinion like that," he chuckled lightly, etching his dimples on either cheek.

Really, never? Forty-Two just went along with everything? I supposed I ought to look at my own involvement as Queen of Hell before questioning her ways. To be fair, I did give Lucifer Hell when I thought something was wrong. "It's about time I was honest. I don't have time to put up a face anymore," I muttered.

"I knew it. I've been right all along," he congratulated himself.

"Don't get ahead of yourself. I don't need any trouble with Michael," I warned. "It's probably hard for you to understand, considering your nihilistic lifestyle."

"Hm." He nodded his head back. "It's not that that I don't desire duty, Sophie. I just don't see anything that's worth it anymore," he said. "Even every sin, every murder or act of degeneracy feels the same. I want nothing. I strive for nothing. I always wonder how swirling galaxies with my finger at the beginning of creation became this. This abject sense of… emptiness. I don't even care that I'm spilling my thoughts to someone who's hated me for the better part of fourteen billion years."

My jaw grew tight. I couldn't say I didn't understand this. But if I knew Lucifer—which I did—this only meant something devious lay ahead. When Lucifer was down, he refused to be sad. He would only take revenge on the cosmos for making him feel such a thing. So wrathful were his emotions. "You don't have anything to lose now," I told him.

"Exactly. That's right, isn't it?" he agreed, and then let out a swift exhale as if something clicked in his head. "I almost felt bad for doing this but… You're right, you know," he beamed. "I do hold a grudge."

I felt a cold sharp prickle on my throat. It was a knife. I sharply inhaled as it was pressed threateningly against my neck. While he'd been talking to me, he had conjured another avatar of his to sneak up behind me. "Did you even intend to make good on our deal?"

"Oh I will, but not after I make the best out of it. This isn't just a date," Lucifer revealed.

"Shocking," I momentarily widened my eyes. "Listen, this has been fun and all, but I'd rather not squander time like this. Why don't you just tell me what you want and get it over with? Let's make it choppy."

The clone lowered his blade. "There's something I need you to do," he said with a malicious twinkle in his eye. "It won't be easy, but you're the only person who can do it. If the thought of straying should cross your mind-"

"You'll hurt me. I know," I rolled my eyes as I sighed. "What do you need?"

"A simple task, really. There's a little cottage not too far from here. Only one being lives there. I need you to pass a message to him."

"That's it?"

It seemed so. He led me to the cottage, with the clone following closely behind me with his knife extended. The message was simple, as promised, but I had no clue why it was so important that he had to threaten me at knifepoint. I went up to the door alone, knocked and waited. The one who answered did give me somewhat of a surprise. It was… a nephil. It wasn't that fact that had me rooted to the ground, it was his eyes. The background of his pupils was black, with the pupils themselves being a scarlet red. Needless to say, I was bewildered. From his agape expression, I guessed he was too.

"How did you find me?" he asked. He stepped warily away from the door, as if terrified of me.

"I know everything," I said according to Lucifer's instructions. "I didn't come here in hostility."

"Really?" his piercing gaze contorted with relief. He even seemed to tear up a little.

"Yes, your father told me everything," I continued. "He told me to check up on you, see how you were doing."

"You have no idea how much this means to me, Your Majesty," he went down on his knees and touched my feet. Caught aback though I was, I urged him to get back up. "I don't want to hide who I am anymore. And neither do the others."

"Trust me, Astaroth, the King and I want to welcome you with open arms in front of the whole world. You shouldn't have to live this way," I parroted Lucifer's words. "But, as you know, it won't be easy. I came to ask you a favour in hopes that it will show everyone how loyal and worthy you are."

"Anything, my Archon," he wiped away tears that generously streamed down his youthful cheeks. "I'll do anything."

"There is a war brewing in Necropolis. Michael has asked that you take the others with you and head down there to support our battalion," I ordered. "Your father has already made the preparations for you to be received."

"I'll leave immediately," he assured me, holding both my hands within his. "I don't know how to thank you."

"By being the best defence our great army could ask for," I replied. With that, I took leave while he gathered his things. Once I snaked back into the woods far enough, Lucifer re-joined me. "It's done. He's leaving."

"I'm impressed. You actually did it," Lucifer smirked. "Part of me thought you'd slay him there and then."

"Be honest with me. Is he yours?" I said, tight-lipped.

"What? No. He's your brother, Athreya's," he defended with a frown. "You really thought that?"

"There was a resemblance, and you seem to be doing a lot of… cloud-seeding in your spare time," I reasoned with an eyebrow raised. Why do I even care? "So why'd you want him in Necropolis?"

"You'll have to pay me for the answer," he grew sombre.

"Oh, please," I grumbled dryly. "Let's look at the evidence: Athreya's bastard son, hiding in a forest—I'm guessing Athreya didn't want anyone to find out about his mistake, but somehow, you discovered this juicy titbit. If you send the nephil to war, Athreya is going to freak out and everyone will find out about his dirty secret, which is going to really hurt my siblings' trust in Michael once they find out 'he' was the one who sent the bastard there, among other interesting arguments. Did I miss anything?"

He stared with a curious tilt of the head. "Okay, you're starting to freak me out. But it's not just one son. Your brother's been really busy in that department."

"You just want to see chaos, Lucifer. That's just who you are, I know," I shrugged. "You really thought I couldn't figure that out?"

"No, but I also expected a little more… disgust," he elaborated. "You're taking this a little too well."

"And you were ready to slit my throat," I countered. "Should I spar with you now?"

"I hate to invoke the Nazarene, but Jesus," he cussed. "Just so you know, that nephil, and the other bastards, have a great welcome arranged for them. You see, my brother was right about the Order of the Grave. They're dangerous. So much so that they could give those nephilim enough of a hard time. Athreya's going to be furious and with great anger comes great conflict." A pause fell between us. "How does that make you feel?"

That was a decent plan, if I cared about it. "I presume you will be by Michael's side, whispering sweet nothings in his ear," I deduced. I crossed my arms as I bought some time with tension. "Can't say I didn't see this coming from you. But Michael should've known. I've warned him many times about you. It's not in my hands now."

He mulled over that response and slowly nodded. "I'm feeling so attracted to you right now," he shifted closer. I shot him a glare just as he reached an arm towards me, so he backed down. "You'll see, woman, where this road takes us."

As much as I wanted to throw it back in his face, I had to admit this was a little enjoyable—only because I was so far from home. "You're getting your hopes a little too high," I warned with a one-sided grin. "I'll take pleasure in seeing you spiral all over again."

"You'll be wrong about that, because you know what I see? You, randomly showing up at the brothel, eavesdropping on me right when I'm getting it on. And worse yet, somehow materialising in the bathhouse for some accidental fun and now pretending that it never happened," his voice sunk into an ear-tickling low timbre. "No matter what you say, I can't wrap my head around that. Maybe it's you who'll fall for me. Then I get to shatter your precious heart to smithereens."

As he said that, each word pushing out his chest with more force, something seemed to change. For a single second, a little softness slipped through his gaze. That was enough to send a spike through my heart. The next instant, he pulled me closer and pressed his lips into mine. Though it felt like a lethal flashpoint had been reached with just a kiss, I had to push him away. Our mouths were painfully apart, his arms still wrapped around me, as we shared a mutual look of defeat. "We can't," I whispered.

"Why?" he asked so demandingly.

"You are not the one I married," I expunged. "You are not him."

"But do you feel this with him? Could he ever love you like I did?" he assaulted with his words. I weakly pulled away to stand on my own two feet. "You said it yourself: you can't put up this façade anymore."

"You don't understand," I turned away and sought stability from a nearby tree. "I have to get back to the Void."

"You are needed here," he argued. "You have a responsibility, dammit!"

"You don't care about that," I pointed out.

"But you do. It's about to get apocalyptic here. How can you just leave this? How can you leave me?"

"Because I have to," I said. "I don't need to explain myself to you or Michael."

"Then take me with you," he suggested. I dared chance upon his face again and saw that he was dead serious. "I don't know much about what you do over there, but if it is anything like you say, I have to see it."

"That's not happening," I remained firm. "This is something I have to face on my own."

The hollows of his cheeks undulated with a hard gulp. "Then I'll damage everything you and Michael built, in every second that you're gone," he threatened, irises boring into mine as if ransacking my mind desperately for authenticity. I couldn't look away.

"And what will be left when I'm back?"

"Absolutely nothing. You'll have to start all over with someone. Pick up the pieces with a deviant like me."

"Wouldn't that be nice," I muttered under my breath, thinking back to what I would have to face upon my return.

"You and I—we could kill the other archangels. Take them out silently, before they even catch on to us. Everything they have will be ours and ours alone."

"You talk a big game." I miss my husband. "Will you… wait till I get back?" I spoke with a lowered tone, channelling that sorrow well. His eyes contorted in anguish.

"Only if you promise," he said sincerely. "Promise that your heart will be mine again."

"I… promise," I lied. The moon was beginning to wane, which meant that it became dark again. His crimson and my emerald glow gradually became more prominent. A sombreness befell his demeanour. He reached into his pocket and brandished a cloth packet. It was the Azurite Dust.

Just as I took hold of it, he grabbed my wrist. "I hope you know what you're doing," he said more as a threat than a concern. Even then, sorrow never fled his expression. "I take promises very seriously."

"Oh, I know," I asserted, not straying from eye contact. "You're the most serious person I know, Morningstar."