+-+-+-+-+-+-+ Chapter 33: Angels Descend +-+-+-+-+-+-+

The orb was now rotating faster as it reached the arch and the Daemon King held an open palm above it. Like an animal regurgitating its meal, the orb opened its mouth and began to bleed; thick, black viscous fluid that smelled strongly of iron, dribbled from its mouth and unto the floor where the arch met the bridge. Strangely enough the blood that pooled around Lucifer's hooves began to move in opposite directions and the archway began glowing red. Runic symbols appeared where the blood travelled upwards towards the crown of the arch, uncovering an invisible double steel door.

"Hold the Shades at bay!" Lucifer growled angrily as he approached the door, preparing himself mentally as he placed his clawed hands against it, cementing his iron will against the impending pain he knew would come.

With the howling of the angered dead beyond the doors loud in his ears, Lucifer gritted his teeth and pooled his strength to his core, his muscles bunching under the weight of the enormous pair of double steel doors that had remained shut for a millennia. Where his palms met the smooth unassuming surface of the enchanted doors, they crackled and smoked, the smell of skin burning to the flesh flamed the already chaotic crescendo around them. An ancient fire elemental spell had been woven into its machinations, effectively preventing any entry or exit into Oblivion and the realm beyond it. Only he, the King of Infernus, was allowed to physically open the steel doors and to bear the unearthly pain burning through his exposed skin: his personal punishment for entombing his fallen brethren.

The Sister Fates had been cruel in their vows to punish Lucifer for turning against their Wheels of Fates, and against his own Father, the Almighty God. If only he had listened to God, they said, and bowed to Adam, they said – that traitorous excuse for a creation – God would not have forced Fate's hands and enslaved Lucifer in his own personal Hell. God – being the eldest of the Creators – was, is and forever would be universal law. His words were decrees of the highest orders. God, Sister Fates, Death, Mother Earth; Lucifer spat vehemently inwards, centuries of his miseries were attributed to them. The power hungry, fear mongering, irresponsible deities of the ancient universe had nothing better to do with their time. Their laws and prophecies obscured at best, destructive at worst. One would think they had thought through their actions before attempting the creation of life. Like sending pigs to slaughter, their endless fascinations with trials and errors – unforeseen circumstances, collateral damage for the better of mankind they said – had cost Lucifer everything. To this day, as the acrid smell of burning flesh pierced his nostrils, he still fought against their insane meddling.

Why create life but put them through centuries of endless sufferings? To entertain the sick and twisted depravity of their endless curiosities? To push against the boundaries of creation to see how far they could go before their creation fails and breaks? Then what? What will happen after they have broken their toys? Discard them? Cast them aside for newer, shinier, flashier toys? We are all but puppets to these sick bastards, marionettes that they barely understood, unable to completely control, and then they get pissed when one of us breaks their fucking rules.

"Fuckers," Lucifer breathed, gritting his teeth as he spat the curse out.

With the last of the dark thoughts festering to the surface of his mind, Lucifer gave a mighty heave and slammed the doors opened. The assaults to their senses were instantaneous: shrill wailings from the dead grated against their eardrums; the putrid sulfuric smell of decaying matter rotting within the bog pierced their nostrils; their eyes watered from the viscous green fumes slowly curling around their ankles; oh… but it was the cold that had stabbed the most. It seeped, crawled, sliced into their skins down to their very bones, a piercing chill that found its way to their hearts unlike no other.

"Elementa mando vobis manserint illuc! In Lucifer nomine, luciferum, lapsis angelus, ego praecipio vobis!"

Brilliant crimson lights crisscrossed from behind the Daemon King, immediately incinerating the closest Shade who had its filthy jaws wide open; ready to gnaw through his face. The crimson energies crackled through the darkness, providing an electrical fence-like barrier against the Shades pushing against it. It wouldn't hold very long though, Lucifer thought darkly as he stood to his full beastly height, his chest heaving from the effort as he rubbed both his wrists alternately. These were very hungry Shades, he groused inwardly, his eyes quickly scanning the situation before him to deduce its safety. The electrical fence would hold for now, he reasoned, as every Shade that tried to barge into the crimson energies burned into ashes. Calling upon the quiet calm that was the epitome of his strength, he placed both palms against each other, ignoring the sting of the burnt skin upon contact. Bowing his head in a prayer formation, he called the summoning spell for the caretaker of this forbidden lake.

"O Apolin, Maraloch, Berith, Sathan, Beliath, Belzebuc, et Lucifer, supplico vobis vt precipiati magistro - in eo loco - vt ipse debeat venire cras ante solis ortum ad me et docere me talem scienciam sine aliqua fallacia, per illum qui venturus est iudicare viuos et mortuous et seculum per ignem,"

A gust of cold air carried across the dark waters before a glimmer of greenish-silver light appeared in the distance. Upon noticing its appearance, Lucifer stood straighter, his form imposing – that of the royal Father of this realm, the self proclaimed God of Hell. His jaw began to clench tightly; his eyebrows furrowed; his eyes focused on the cloaked entity as he looked upon the strange contraption serving as this realm's ferry rowing towards the pier. The quiet lapping of its singular oar against the watery darkness beneath was audible to the sharp hearings of the imperials as it approached closer.

In the shape of a traditional Venetian gondola, the ferryman approached the edge of the pier, skillfully turning the contraption on its side by pushing against the steps at the edge of the pier. The gondola was unassuming, made of sturdy dark wood, small enough to carry three or four persons in its hollowed out bottom. The ferryman, however, was subject to more interest. Cloaked in a dark robe that hung over its physique, it revealed nothing save the two skeletal arms that protruded out of tattered sleeves, holding onto the singular oar. The being stunk of rotting flesh, its back hunched low, like an old man eaten away by age. The hood of its robe was pulled low across its face, hiding away the faceless being from the scrutinizing eyes of the company before it.

"My King, my King, my King… What have you come here for, my King? It isn't a safe place for royals such as you. The Shades are hungry you see, very hungry," the faceless being bowed even lower than was thought possible after turning his torso to face the Daemon King, the patronizing tone did not escape Lucifer's ears.

"Haros, Charon, Caretaker, by these names I had called upon you. I have need of your services," Lucifer replied, his tone formal and clipped, ignoring the poor attempt to rile his anger, "Child, come here," addressing the angelite who immediately snapped into attention, "Two angels, Charon, have you seen them?"

"Angels? Ah! Yes! Those must be them. Hours ago, two beings not of this world had come barreling down through Heaven's Gates. But my King, they do not… feel like angels. Something isn't quite right with them. I say they are spies! Cloaked in some form of spell to try and blind Infernus to their true nature! Let them die, my King, it wouldn't be long now. As we speak, they are choking in our air. I will harvest their souls after they ceased to breathe! Not many can survive the toxic fumes of Oblivion, my King," The ferryman rattled after a short silence as it looked away, seeing something in the darkness that the others were blind to; its insidiously patronizing tone thick with a hint of misplaced fascination and a morbid eagerness at the prospect of a fresh meal.

This revelation bothered Lucifer. Something isn't quite right with them? The ferryman's words triggered warning bells in his mind. Cementing his resolve, unwilling to break the binding contract he had made with the Sister Fates, Lucifer nodded to the little angelite standing beside him, standing barely below his heart, and pointed his chin toward the gondola. Almost immediately; without the slightest, remotest attempt at her usual line of questioning; Aki jumped into its hollowed bottom, securing her seat in the middle, tucking her wings behind her in a heart-shaped dove curve. At this almost spontaneous action, Raiu, who was closest to her, nearly stepped forward to stop the angelite but caught herself in time. The Priestess immediately lowered her outstretched hand and frowned at herself. This foreign feeling of protectiveness she was physically exhibiting bothered her gravely.

"Find them, child. Bring them back. Charon, I trust you to navigate Oblivion in safety. The safety of these children is of utmost importance, do you hear? We need to retrieve the fallen angels immediately!"

"For her safety now, a casket of ancient gold coins of your Zenith, my King. For the safe return of all three children afterwards, three caskets are my price. Those are my requirements," Charon rattled in an almost painful wheezing; extending a skeletal hand, palm facing upwards.

"You will have ten times your weight in Zenith gold, Caretaker, upon safe return of all my children. Though what you have need for gold, I do not comprehend," Lucifer growled as he snapped his forefinger and thumb together, agreeing to the Caretaker's first request. A casket that could fit a man appeared behind Aki, sinking the already flimsy boat deeper into darkened waters.

"What else will you give me as proof that you will keep your word, my King?" Charon replied, a wheezing rattle that almost sounded like a laugh escaped along with the insolent tone, "These angels are better off dead than alive. My offer still stands. Let me feed on their souls and save yourself the trouble…". It was a barter trade; Lucifer knew Charon would not give in so easily, trying to bargain for more than just gold.

"As soon as Heaven abandons them, Infernus embraces them. They become a child of Infernus. You have my word, Caretaker. Bring back the angelites safe and sound, and I promise you… No harm will befall you when you return," Raiu – impatience pushing her already waning energy – growled, her voice low and harsh, stepping to the front before her King had a chance to bargain anymore. They were already running out of time and she was anxious. She had lost too much blood from the gate's sacrifices and she wasn't sure if she could keep standing for too long to aid her Father.

"And you are, my lady? Who are you to command a being as old as time as I am? I answer only to my King," Charon chuckled, the wheezing sounds of his laughter grating, like nails dragged slowly across the expanse of a chalkboard.

"You…" Raiu groused, her features darkening as her right hand rose to slam a spell into the caretaker. Immediately, an almost painful squeeze of unsheathed claws on her shoulder stopped her from casting any forbidden spells to the surface. The priestess gritted her teeth, her jaw visibly clenching as she swallowed the spell that had begun to form on her tongue, painfully, reluctantly.

"She," Lucifer answered, narrowing his gaze upon his daughter, cutting off any protests and aware of the ticking time, "is my true daughter, Charon, the High Priestess of the seven levels of Hell. If I were you, I would heed her words. My daughter is as powerful as I am, and I gather, though you are ancient, you do not possess the powers of the universe as she does,"

"Very well, my Lord…" Charon nodded, his tone thoughtful as though weighing his options. The master of this realm was a manipulative fallen angel, his words charming and persuasive, "Very well. I hold you to your word, Priestess. If you break your bond, and harm falls on me before I return with your precious cargo, I will curse you to eternity without salvation for your soul on your deathbed. You will be one of my Shades,"

"Melius est vinculum," Raiu replied through gritted teeth, sealing the promise with a spell despite the now sharp painful squeeze to her shoulder which had not gone unnoticed. She knew her Father would have a few choice words for her later on for this recklessness but they were racing against time, and this bastard bag of bones was playing goddamn games! No one… she knew, her heart heavy, no one makes deals with powerful demons such as this one but the King.

Seemingly satisfied with the turn of events, the ferryman nodded and pushed away from the pier with a thrust of the oar against its wall. A silent protection spell was casted for the angelite now facing the darkness beyond alone. Be safe, Raiu whispered inwardly, sending the message across the dark waters. As though the angel heard the intimate call, Aki turned her head around, a small smile gracing her lips in acknowledgement of the quiet command before returning her attention to the darkness beyond her. Raiu sighed in resignation, there was nothing they could do now but ensure the crimson fences remain intact as they waited anxiously for the return of the trio. Raiu could not allow the strain on her body to eclipse her will but her knees almost gave way under the weight of her weakness. She bit back the fatigue with force, breaking the skin of her lower lip and tasting the salty tang of iron on her tongue. She needed blood and healing, months of healing. The Priestess turned her body towards her father's chest to bury her face, quickly finding solace and warmth in her father's embrace. Nothing would quiet the uneasiness stringing into her black heart until the rogue angel, her angel, came back to her in one piece - nothing.

"Now we wait. It will take all our concentrations to hold the Shades away from us," Lucifer said quietly, cloaking their presence from the angry souls of demons past, as his brethren strengthen the electrical crimson walls.

Misaki…

Where am I?

Misaki…

Where… where am I? It's too dark to see anything. My body hurts all over. I can barely move a muscle. What happened to me? Where am I? Why is it so cold? Akihiko? Akihiko! It's so dark, where are you? Are you near? Can you hear me? Please, is anyone near me? Where am I!? Is… this death? Is this Hell? I see nothing but the endless emptiness of darkness. But… if this is death, then why do I not see anything? Is there… is there nothing beyond death?

It's so cold. Where are you, Akihiko? I miss you. I miss your voice. I miss your touch, your inappropriate cuddles in broad daylight, and your embarrassing proclamations of love – bears, food, toys. I miss your scent the most, like rain on a warm summer night; a hint of dark, rich sandalwood. I've always loved that about you. I was your winter, and you were my summer. We were opposites you and I, but we fitted together, perfectly, like a hand-made glove. I miss your body against mine, imprinting your larger frame against my back. Have I ever told you that you always made me feel safer that way? But you're not here… I guess now you'll never know.

Misaki…

I'm sorry, Akihiko! I could not stand up for you. My family you see, they would never understand. I would've followed you to the ends of Heaven but I couldn't leave my brother. Takahiro needed me and I couldn't leave him. I couldn't embarrass him. I was so angry with you. Why did you have to fall with the rest of Lord Sataniel's infantry? Why didn't you stay? I suffered so much loneliness because of you. I miss you. No, that's selfish of me. I know. I know you had to go. You had your loyalties; you had to. I knew you also did it to keep me safe. I know that now. How I wished I had known sooner. I doubted you. I was so angry. I'm sorry. Now it's too late. I will never know if you will ever forgive me.

Misaki…

Your voice keeps calling to me but this is just a dream… isn't it? I am neither of Heaven nor am I of Hell. Is this Limbo? I feel like I'm floating. Is this punishment for denying you? Hurting you all those centuries at war? If it is, please, no more. I cannot bear your disappointment. It will kill me. It will. Though this feels like a dream. Akihiko, I'm so cold still. Where are you now? Do you still remember me… the way I remember you? Everyday, every second, my thoughts, my days; they were all of you. I cannot bear living without you anymore. It's been centuries, Akihiko.

You know, when I saw you, when Lord Michael sent me to Earth to find the Light of God? I hated the way you looked at me. You looked right through me. You blasted me out of the sky. I was too shocked that you were there that I didn't have time to protect myself. I know you were doing your duty. I knew you were only protecting the Hell Priestess but I could not shake away that dead look in your eyes. You saw nothing of me, you saw only an enemy that needed killing. It hurt, Akihiko. It hurt so much. Did you not see me? Did you not realize it was I that your demon friend knocked out of the sky? Did you purposely shoot me out of the sky? Did you… ended up hating me after all?

But of course, Akihiko, you couldn't have known it was me. I was foolish to harbor such pain and hurt over your actions. How immature of me to think that you would've seen through Lord Michael's cloaking. Of course, the Archangel would've resurrected us from our human forms without revealing Heaven's sentinel angels. He would've cloaked us in invisibilities, that's only expected of Heaven's mightiest archangel. No, Akihiko, it wasn't your fault but oh God, it did not make the pain any lesser a burden to bear. Why do I have to be so devotedly in love with you, Akihiko? All you brought me were pain and tears…

Misaki…

It's so cold, Akihiko. It's too cold to stay awake. This darkness is consuming me…

"Misaki! Misaki! Oi! No, this isn't good! No, no, no! Your light is dimming, this isn't good! Misaki! Wake up, goddammit!" Kusama swore, panic clutching his heart as he tightened his hold on the roughened up angel against his bodice. He began vigorously rubbing what was left of Misaki's bruised back with his free hand, hoping his high temperature would keep the petite angel warm.

It didn't seem to be working at all. The angel only grew colder.

The gondola carrying the angelite moved slowly along the strange lake. Aki peered over the sides to see bubbles popping and hissing, emitting a disgusting smell akin to rotten eggs. She fought the urge to pinch her nose, unwilling to seem delicate to the strange being ferrying her across the dark waters. Blinking rapidly, Aki's eyes had begun to adjust to the darkness surrounding the gondola. Shadows of rotten trunks, twisting and turning into haphazard shapes loomed before her. The gondola slowed even more as the ferryman, silent as the night, navigated its way into a tight opening, pushing its ageing oar against unseen roots and decaying trunks underneath the dark waters.

It was clear to Aki that they had somehow squeezed into a river swamp. The smell of death clung here, even more overpowering than it was across the lake. Bizarre vegetation hung low, eerie and threatening; lifeless, leafless and twisted beyond recognition. How these strange trees were able to breed here was beyond Aki's comprehension. She was sure that nothing could grow here, much less this looming forest of death. Darkness had clearly given birth to darkness. The lazy slap of water against the side of the flimsy boat was almost hypnotic and Aki found herself in a state of enthrallment, barely able to keep her eyes open. There was a spell here; she noted dimly, a spell so strong that it could make the weakest of minds fall into a slumber.

"Stay awake, child, I do not want the wrath of the fiery God on my head if you fall into the sleep of death,"

The sudden raspy warning from the ferryman jolted Aki awake, as though it had physically prodded her with its skeletal hand. Swallowing an apology that bubbled up almost automatically, the angelite blinked her eyes rapidly and bit her tongue down, nodding vigorously instead, agreeing in silence with the ferryman. This was no time to doze off, Aki. The ferryman's words rang loud in her ears. The wrath of the Daemon King was not to be trifled with. Despite the earlier jabs against Lucifer, Aki knew that underneath the dimly veiled façade of bravery, the Caretaker, the ferryman was fearful of the almighty daemon it called King.

Forcing herself – and her mind – into silence, she instead listened intently for a particular humming; the soft whoosh of an angel's wings flapping in the air. Her eyes had dilated into deep purple amethysts as they begun to paint the details of the forest around her. This was no forest, her earlier thought of a dense thick vegetation of shapeless branches and bizarre leafless trees bolted from her mind. Her heart began palpitating faster as recognition dawned on her. This was no forest, she repeated to herself, this was a graveyard!

Legions, legions of fallen angels from centuries past were before her. Their remains had turned to stone, their faces forever frozen - etched in anger, despair, desperation, pain, fear. Their limbs broken, twisted beyond any mortal being's ability to contort themselves. Their wings, their poor wings, were whittled down to the bone, featherless, flightless. What was left of a once proud army of angels had been reduced to this rotting matter of frozen corpses, doomed to never find peace, doomed to an eternity of darkness, of emptiness, of no salvation.

"Why are they still here?" Aki whispered, unable to restrain her horror.

"This is God's punishment, child," the ferryman rasped quietly, "To those who did not make it out alive, those who died when they fell, are doomed here. Their corpses frozen, distorted, displayed for all intruders to see. Forever rotting, never seeing salvation, never turning to dust, never returning to the universe to be reborn. A severe warning of what happens when you defy God,"

Aki swallowed her horror, her heart breaking for Lucifer's original army of angels. This was too cruel a punishment, a sea of corpses that continued to rot for eternity. Her heart cried for the souls that forever haunted this doomed land. Until the day the universe itself exploded, they would never be free. God was too cruel in His punishments, too cruel.

Shedding a tear that had escaped the confines of her lashes, Aki suddenly perked up, twisting around dangerously on the flimsy boat, almost tilting her over to one side. Her senses had gone into overdrive as her eyes strained to see into the darkness. The humming she was waiting for begun as a low key – too low for any mortal being to hear at first – but it had grown louder as they approached a sharp corner on this meandering river. The air around them seemed to vibrate with a serene musical note; the slight whooshing of wings alternately moving in the air emitting ripples of humming.

"We are close," the ferryman informed Aki moments later. It too sense the change in the air. As the oar broke against the waters, propelling the little gondola towards the source of the humming that had increased in vibration, Aki was greeted with a sight she never would have at all imagined had she not seen it with her own eyes.

It was Nowaki-senpai; turning around so sharply – eyes ablaze with panic, fear and desperation before succumbing to relief as his stormy blue eyes laid themselves upon the wide-eyed newcomer.

"Aki-chan! Is it really you? Is it truly you?! Help me, please! It's Misaki-kun! He's dying! He's dying!" Kusama tripped over his words, his voice was high-pitched, constricted as he flew urgently towards the gondola. His wings screamed in relief as they were tucked behind him. He wasn't sure if he was hallucinating. His mind was a desperate mess of chaos. He had tried to revive Misaki but all his attempts and coercions were fruitless. He looked up into the lavender amethysts that were a prevalent prominent trait of the family of Seers, begging silently that she save the lifeless bundle he had dutifully carried in his arms for untold hours. They were different now, harsher… darker. It was their beloved Sentinel sister, it is her, it is Aki, who had long been casted away from Heaven. He was not dreaming, she was here in the flesh, staring right back at him in disbelief.

"Nowaki-senpai… Right, give him here, let me hold him. Whatever you see after this, please do not think badly of me," Aki snapped out of her disbelief, pulling the lifeless body of the angel who was a few centuries younger than she was, into her lap. "Charon, take us home,"

"As you wish, child," the ferryman, who had said nothing of this strange scenario before it, turned the gondola around, ferrying three Children of Light back towards the company waiting anxiously by the peer.

"Do what you need to do, Aki-chan, save him! I beg of you! I would never be able to forgive myself if he died in my watch! What will I tell Usami-senpai? How will I ever face him if Misaki died?" Kusama, who was never hysterical, was clearly out of his depths now – his voice high, strained and exhausted.

"Let me concentrate, Nowaki-senpai," Aki quieted him with one sharp look.

Aki took a quick inventory of Misaki's bruises, detailing them in her mind so she would be able to administer the right healing rites for him once they reach Pandaemonium Castle. His skin had already been tinged blue, his lips had turned white and his forehead was cold. His heat source was dimming greatly and they were running out of time. They were too far from the imperial court to wait for their aid, and Aki knew what she had to do. She had no choice, she had to administer – force – a blood transfusion.

Aki laid two fingers against Misaki's throat, pressing deep to find the jugular artery, and to her insane relief found a weak beating against her fingers. There was no time for delicacy as her incisors lengthened considerably – much to the frozen horror of the angel sitting across her – and she tore open a wide gash on her free wrist. Aki pressed the bloodied wrist against Misaki's cold lips, forcing his lips to part and tilted his head back so the blood would find its own way into his stomach.

"Aki-chan… you're a… you're a…" Kusama whispered, wide-eyed, shocked and suddenly overcome with frozen horror, realizing the full extent of Aki's actions. Only daemons – by law of their carnivorous nature – provided blood to save their own.

"Daemon, Nowaki-senpai, I am a daemon in transition," Aki murmured, her lips and incisors smeared red with her own blood, her eyes avoiding contact with her former Sentinel, "With this, I'm sorry, I really am, Nowaki-senpai, Misaki will also be transitioning into one as he heals,"

Aki ignored the heavy awkward silence as she massaged Misaki's throat, compelling the crimson liquid of life to flow deeper. She could feel Misaki's heat returning – and hers, waning dangerously– as Misaki's skin began to take on a better shade. Lifting her wrist, Aki pressed it against her tongue, her saliva coagulating her own blood, effectively stopping the bleeding. She had given more than she should have, a throbbing from the lost of blood began to pound between her eyes as she swayed a little in her seat, but Misaki was out of danger for now. He would need continuous blood transfusion as he heals, Aki thought to herself. Pressing her wrist against her shoulder to stem off further bleeding, Aki looked up to find her senpai staring at the floor, his face a mask of sadness.

"Nowaki-senpai, what's the matter?" Aki probed, as she carefully gathered Misaki in her lap, noting with concern the young angel's shallow breathing and strange complexion, swallowing the sudden blood loss nausea that was threatening to rise up her throat. The rocking of the gondola was not doing her any good either.

"I'm… glad, Aki-chan," Kusama murmured, much to Aki's surprise, as he looked up, tears swimming in the corners of his stormy blue eyes, threatening to break away from the confines of sinfully long lashes, "I'm glad you're alive and well, I'm glad that you came when you did, daemon or not, whatever you are, whatever you choose to become, you saved Misaki, you… saved us both. I am forever in your debt,"

"Senpai…" loss for words, Aki reached forward, instinctively lacing her free hand with one of Kusama's own. She blinked rapidly as she did so, her eyes unfocusing at the sudden vertigo. She was glad that he didn't flinch though. Instead, an action unbecoming of an angel who had been at war with daemons for centuries, he returned the gesture, squeezing her hand in nothing but the sincerest of gratitude.

A small wheeze, almost unnoticeable if she had not been paying attention, escaped Misaki's lips. Snapping her attention to her frail charge, she pulled her hand away from her senpai and placed it across Misaki's forehead.

"What's wrong, Aki-chan?" Kusama whispered, fearful something was happening before they reached safety.

"I don't know, senpai. He… He isn't responding as I thought he would," Aki murmured in return, concentrating her attention on every slight nuance on Misaki's face, all the time trying to keep herself from falling face first to the floor.

Spreading her wings wide, Aki pulled them forward, enveloping the fragile bundle in her arms in the warmth of her wings. She could not breath with relief yet. Misaki's breathing was too labored – it became even more prominent as they exited the small opening towards the dark waters of Oblivion's lake. She had given him too much of her blood, perhaps too much too quickly, she gathered. Misaki's temperature was spiking haphazardly, alternating between sudden chills and hot flushes in a matter of seconds. Could he be reacting to my blood? Am I… Could I be poisonous to him? She lifted her eyes and turned to look around towards the dark distance, all around her she could see almost nothing saved the mirror-like darkness of the lake. The occasional pulsating glow from the electrical fence engineered by the imperial court could be seen reflecting against the watery darkness, like an almost invisible wall protecting them from harm. She swallowed again, her throat cumbersomely dry. She needed blood soon. She was glad Nowaki-senpai was not paying attention to her but to Misaki. She could not afford for him to be worried about her as well.

Fog began to circle the gondola's floor and a cold she hoped never to experience ever again seeped slowly into her already chilly body. She knew the pier was closer now, her heart hammering against her ribcage, as the fog grew thicker. Kusama unconsciously moved closer to her, as though realizing that something was awake and alive around them. The fog itself seemed alive, pulsating with energy, finger like tendrils tickling against their exposed skin – leaving an unpleasant feeling crawling against their spines.

"We're here," Charon, the ferryman, rattled suddenly.

The moment the words left the unseen skeletal lips, the pier came to view. Aki almost wanted to cry with joy, her nerves had wound tighter than she thought possible. What came next was a flurry of confusingly swift actions: there were shouts, snappy orders, flashes of rubicund lights, unearthly growls, hands grabbed at her, lifting her and her companions out of the gondola effortlessly, pushing them away from the edge of the pier. Aki barely remembered turning around, to see where the ferryman was, to maybe bid the being farewell but before she could get a glimpse of what was happening around her, she found herself immediately cloaked in a dark robe, a cold palm against her forehead – strangely providing her with a sense of relief and foreboding at the same time. The hood of the robe was pulled over her head instantly, obscuring her and her eyes from sight. She found herself slipping into darkness, like a veil was suddenly placed over her, her eyes closing of their own accord, her mind quickly dimming into nothingness.

Nothingness saved the echo of a curse she knew was aimed at her.

"Damn angel,"

Disclaimer: Sekai-ichi Hatsukoi and Junjou Romantica characters belong to author Shungiku Nakamura Sensei. Other character designs in this story belong to author Raiu Corvus.