Chapter Text

Yeah yeah I’m back. Another global crisis, another escape into fanfiction for me. 

For the sake of continuity, this will take place after the first season of Hazbin Hotel and the second season of Helluva Boss. And as fair warning, besides Lucifer, I will focus much more on the characters of Helluva Boss than Hazbin Hotel.

If you want to listen to the music that inspired this story, feel free to check out my inspiration playlist here. It will automatically update with each new chapter to avoid indirect spoilers for the future.

Illustrations are done by the wonderfully talented Krofty!

Lucifer stood before the golden gates, trying to not notice Peter staring at him over the edge of his book. 

He hated coming back here.

The fallen angel looked down at his sleeves again. He fiddled with his golden cufflink. Again. From the corner of his eye he could see Peter’s little blond swirl trembling beneath his halo. A peek of blue, and then he ducked his head back down behind his book. Lucifer took a deep sigh. “So how are they treating you up here?”

“Hm? Oh, you mean the whole Keeper of the Keys to Heaven?” He lowered his book, running his fingers to flatten the pages down. The smile on his face was a practiced one, Lucifer had seen it many times before. “It’s, ah, it’s a good role! Still is, since the last time you asked me. How about you, how’s things with your daughter?”

“She’s fine, she’s fine! Her hotel’s working out okay, we got it rebuilt and everything after… you know.”

“Right, right, right.” 

A few more seconds of awkward silence. That grin staring at him. Lucifer pulled back his sleeve to look at his watch. The 18th century mechanisms still ticked along, informing him that he was still a full minute early. For fuck’s sake, Sera. He sighed… and offered a weak chuckle. “Still not tired of it up here?”

“No, not quite, it’s still Paradise after all!”

“Yeah,” Lucifer smirked up at the gates. “From some people’s point of view.”

The clock struck the hour, and right on cue the gates cracked open, just enough for Sera to step out. Prim and proper as always, slender hands clasped before her. Peter was visibly relieved. “Hey! We were just talking!”

Barely. Lucifer suppressed a roll of his eyes as he walked up, “Sera, hi! It was good to hear from you, been a while! What, it’s been five, six decades?” 

She just gave a gentle smile at the barbed words. “Thank you St. Peter. I appreciate your patience.” 

“Anything I can do, ma’am!” 

Now she turned to Lucifer, and gestured away from the gates. “Come, let’s find a space where we can… as the most recent parlance is, ‘catch up.’” 

She led him away, towards and then off the edge of the clouds. A small cluster of mist lingered beneath their feet as they walked out into the open air. Lucifer found his step uncertain. It’d been so long since he was here. The way the clouds would ever so slightly give beneath your step, it could be tricky to get used to. Hell, when they were first created, he remembered stumbling forward and landing face-first in the swirling fog. Sera had laughed at him, before suddenly tripping herself, and he’d laughed at her. An eternity ago, before Earth, before—

“Seven.”

“Huh?” He broke out of his memories at her voice. 

“It’s been seven decades. It was your trial, following the humans’ second Great War.”

“Oh right! Yes! That!” Oh he was so thrilled she brought this up. “You all dragged me up here because you thought that I had something to do with that! And then it turned out I’d just been focusing on getting girls to wear their dresses higher, and had nothing to do with the fact that humans just wanted to kill each other that badly! Now I remember that, yes!”

Sera turned to face him now, the thin smile on her lips. “It’s good to see you again, Morning Star.” 

He was lucky that Sera was so good at actually exhibiting the patience that she was ordered to; many other angels wouldn’t be as accommodating as she was. Lucifer shook his head, looking over the edge of the clouds. Down below was a patchwork of fields, a city sprawling out nearby, slowly sliding past with the rotation of the planet. He held the slender black rod of his scepter in both hands. “I’m guessing this is about Charlie.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Oh please,” he looked back up at her; they were both seraphim, and yet she was almost twice his height. “If this was just a sisterly check-up, it’d be the first one. Let me guess, Dad’s real pissed that we killed the first human.”

She didn’t respond at first. Oh he hated that trained expression that angels all wore, the one that gave away no feeling at all. “...No, He has said nothing about it.”

“Right, shouldn’t be surprised. He doesn’t like to say a whole lot these days, does he? Silent treatment and all. Guess it’s you then? Or maybe Lilith’s finally coming at me for a custody dispute?”

She closed her eyes again. Finally, he was getting her to act normal. The moment passed, she looked back down at him. “...Lucifer, it is good to see you again.”

The little flame biting at him, raring to go, suddenly quelled. He lowered his scepter. “Sera?”

No response. She looked far away, over the land below, over the coastline where it became ocean, to the distant curvature of the planet. At the very edge of the horizon the sun seemed to turn the water fiery gold. 

“...Sera, what’s going on?”

Her eyes came back to him. “Father did actually say something.”

No. His fingers clutched his scepter tighter. 

“‘It is time.’” 

“No… no, it’s not, it can’t be time yet! You must have heard him wrong!”

“There’s no mistaking it. The day of Armageddon is upon us.”

“No, no no no no no, Sera there must be some kind of mistake!” 

His wings spread and he flew up to her face, but she stepped back. “I’m sorry, but this is His will. Preparations are already in motion that cannot be stopped. But,” she raised a hand, cutting off his interjection, “for the record, we only found out about the date yesterday. And,” her eyebrows raised, “ I insisted you be informed as soon as possible, since you are actually acting the part of King of Hell again. You and the hellborn will have your part to play in the apocalypse.”

Lucifer was still panting, unable to even accept this. Of course Sera paid no mind to him, she was just plowing forward. It made it so difficult to argue back at her, she’d just assume you agreed with her and move on. But he didn’t have the energy to keep on his main point. “...Right, yes.”

She stared past him, and recited, her words turning his blood to ice: “‘The Beast was given a mouth to utter proud words and blasphemies and to exercise its authority. It opened its mouth to blaspheme God, and to slander his name… given power to wage war against God’s holy people and to conquer them. And it was given authority over every tribe, people, language and nation. All inhabitants of the earth will worship the Beast…’”

He swallowed. “...Riiiight. I remember. So, I rule the world for forty-two months?”

“I’m afraid not. You will rule the world, yes, but we have decided that a more appropriate amount of time would—”

“Wait wait, hold on.” His shock was giving way to his usual annoyance. “I read your damn book front-to-back hundreds of times. You know. Because you made it a sin to read your own fucking holy book.” 

“That was the humans’ rule.”

“Okay whatever. I know it says forty-two months in there. We get three and a half years to do what we want!”

“It’s figurative, Lucifer. We have decided—”

“IT’S ALWAYS FUCKING FIGURATIVE!” She actually recoiled a bit as flames burst from his sleeves, as fury filled his eyes. “Whenever something’s a little fucking inconvenient for you in your shitty book, it’s figurative! Newsflash Sera, that ‘Revelation’ was some dipshit human marooned on some island in the middle of nowhere who went on a bad trip! Look at me! LOOK AT ME! Do I look like I have seven heads and ten horns?! I know that’s also in there! Or am I not the Beast, have you all ‘decided’ that too and you decided to not tell me, because you don’t tell me ANYTHING!”

“I am telling you now!” 

Oh he’d gotten to her. Her face was cross, her voice hard. He kept seething, glaring up at her. His horns had come out, his tail too, he hadn’t even realized it. 

“I did not make you decide to all but abdicate your throne, so you could waste your time building… toys of ducks, alone in your room. The throne of Hell laid empty and Satan is not exactly receptive to any attempts to contact him. Now that you are actually in the public eye again, yes, I am now telling you what was decided in your absence. When the time comes, we will rapture the pure souls from the world. You and the demons of Hell will be granted dominion over the mortal realm for forty-nine days.”

“FORTY-” Lucifer bit his tongue at another glare from his sister. 

“At the end of this time, Armageddon occurs. There will be the apocalyptic battle between Heaven and Hell, and the Last Judgment. You and the hellborn and the fallen humans will be thrown into Eternal Torment. And a new, pure Kingdom of God will reign forever.”

It was happening. It was actually happening. Lucifer shook his head, trying to stoke his anger, because the alternative was to let the creeping horror consume him.

“I’m sorry Lucifer. At the end of these forty-nine days, Earth and Hell will be destroyed.  There’s nothing I can do. It’s His word.”

He turned, stormed away, the clouds keeping pace with his feet. They churned grey and black beneath his stride… then he turned back. “And what if I refuse?! You know, Mr. Bad Boy over here!”

“Then the humans wake up to find their innocent vanished, puzzle about it for seven weeks, and then they are destroyed. And Hell afterwards. The prophecy cannot be swayed, Lucifer.”

“You can’t—” 

But he caught himself. What was he supposed to say here? Heaven couldn’t do this? They had spent centuries coming down to his domain, slaughtering sinners in the open and hellborn in secret… wait a minute. 

“This is about my daughter, isn’t it?”

At that Sera’s face actually gave way to surprise. “No, no it has nothing to do with her, or the efforts she’s making to rehabilitate sinners. It’s just a coincidence, the timing of it all.”

“It’s a real funny coincidence. Too bad you were always a terrible comedian.”

Her eyes fell again, “‘About that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven—’”

“Can you stop quoting that stupid thing at me?! I know what it fucking says, and I know how you fucking use it. Whatever you want to do, you just pull some passage out of your ass, but if I try the same trick, that part’s not meant to be taken seriously! And you win because you have legions of divine angels, because you’re in Dad’s good graces, and I’m the piece of shit who got kicked out because I wanted something a little bit more for Creation!” 

With a furious yell he kicked at a wisp of cloud. Lightning cracked across the sky. He stood there, fists clenching so tight he feared his nails would bite into his palm. Everything in him was burning, smoldering, even as Sera came up beside him. Go ahead, he spat in his head. Say I deserve it, that it’s my punishment a long time coming. Or try to make me feel better. Go ahead.

“Get yourself and the Sins ready. We will give the signal when your time starts, at the unlocking of the fifth seal.”

Oh so the sealed scroll got to be literal. He bit back the barb though to ask, “What about the first four seals? Conquest, War, Famine and Plague?” 

“They have been open for some years now.”

He opened his mouth to protest… but then he considered the past several years on Earth. “...I probably should have realized that already.”

Lucifer looked down again at the city. Over the course of their conversation, it had slid farther away, towards the patch of golden sunlight. Even all these many miles up, with his celestial sight Lucifer could look down into the streets. A mother juggling five kids and a phone call. A group of young men in suits laughing at a cafe table. An old woman stringing her clothes in a line over an alleyway. By now his horns and tail had receded, but his wings stayed up.

“How many are you sparing?”

Sera looked down with him. “There’s been… disappointment, I know, in the moral fiber of humanity. The powers of temptation have been great.” He could feel the pointed remark digging into him. “Even those who most loudly profess to be holy followers, are some of the most wicked of all.” 

“How many?”

“We will spare the small children, those too young to understand how to sin. Otherwise, there are precious few with truly good souls. Almost everybody will be left. The living will have a last chance at redemption at the Last Judgment, but they will still have to face the tribulations.”

Lucifer could see it… the city burning, the oceans red with blood. Rents in the ground opening up, stars striking the surface, all beneath a festering sky. So many lives that would be upended, both here and down below. “Was there anything else?”

“Well… I have been meaning to ‘catch up’ with you. Your daughter caused quite a stir in heaven, she’s certainly yours!”

“Don’t.” Why did she always do this? He shot a glare back up at her, just in time to see her attempted smile disappear. “Don’t try to pretend you care about me. You want to catch up, maybe feel like you were a good sister, knowing that I won’t be alive in two months? Is that what you want, some kind of absolution?” He brandished his scepter up at her. “That ain’t exactly my thing, if you haven’t noticed.”

Her face returned to neutral. Then she bowed her head. “Thank you for coming.” And she turned, to retreat back behind the golden gates.

Chapter Text

Octavia hunched over her glass, the stirrer swirling around and around, her finger moving above it. The bright red drink inside caught the light of the chandeliers above. It had no ice; there was no need for it, not with Uncle Andy here…

“BU-HAH!”

Speaking of… 

“Oh you are so fascinating!” Andrealphus let out his usual insufferable guffaw. He was deep in conversation with Duke Flauros, a leopard Goetia dressed in a flowing red cape and dark-colored armor. Her mother was also there, pretending to be interested in his words. Just like everyone in this fucking party was only fucking pretending to be interested in each other. She hated these things; that’s precisely why her mother forced her to attend even more lately. 

Well, then she can cover for me.

Giving a wide berth to the other demons her age, Octavia made her way over to her mother and uncle. Flauros was just starting another tale. “This would have been, seven hundred years ago? Some European peasant summoned me, she had some petty squabble with a neighbor. If I recall, it was over courtship with some boy?”

“Hmph!” Stella let out a snort of amusement, before downing her seventh drink of the night.

“So, she summons me, asks me the truth of the affair. And I tell her, ‘Oh darling, my heart breaks for thee. For though his words flatter you, his eyes and heart yearn for Ayna in the house across the field! But…’ and this is where I began to have some real fun, ‘I see even further than that. I see another girl, her name is Ketlin! And she also seeks the hand of your beau!’”

“Ohhhh hohoho,” Andrealphus leaned close now, swirling his wine excitedly. “Flauros, you are a troublemaker, I like that.”

The leopard’s grin flashed his fangs, and in his golden eyes Octavia could see he was relishing this memory. “Oh she got livid. And of course, that’s when she asked me for my other services. And she had other grievances, she named the city bishop for being an overbearing tyrant, and her parents too! And she promised me her soul, if I would remove these obstacles to her happy life.” 

Stella leaned close, “Mhm, yessssssss?”

“You act as though I am a fiend of some kind! Of course I did as the poor girl asked!” Flauros let the suspense build as he raised his glass, gave it a few laps with his feline tongue. “I rode through town, my legions behind me, and we burned every scrap of wood and fabric we could find! Ketlin, Ayna, the bishop, so many more caught in our path. Oh the horrified look on her face, as her home went up in flames, her parents inside!”

Stella and Andrealphus both cackled as the story took its hilarious twist.  Flauros kept his composure better, but the leopard still allowed himself a handsome lopsided smile. Octavia watched her mother gasp for breath, “Those humans never fucking learn, do they?! They’d sell their soul to punch themselves in the face if you told them not to!” 

“Oh, I think they learn their lesson eventually. Don’t they, Omelina?” With a cruel chuckle he lifted his other hand; a series of bracelets ran up his arm, each set with gemstones. A blue sapphire gleamed, and something about the pattern inside seemed to shift as Flauros called out the name. Then he turned his attention back to his hosts. “And that’s not even the end of it.”

“Oh! Oh tell more!”

“I was just finishing my ride through town… when I heard the guards begin accusing each other of arson. Apparently there had been more tension in the city than I thought. And as I ride back to Omelina to conclude our business, I hear musket fire behind me. The fools were already turning on each other!”

Andrealphus scoffed. “I’m not surprised. The mortals are always so short-sighted, aren’t they? Stupid bumbling buffoons, can’t go more than a day without getting their hands on each other!”

“Are you sure?”

Octavia finally spoke up, and all three faces turned to her. Andrealphus seemed shocked, before laughing it off. “Of course I am! Why do you think so many humans end up down here?”

“I mean,” she nodded at Flauros, “are you sure there were muskets? You said this was seven hundred years ago, right? They didn’t have firearms for a while on the continent.”

The leopard’s brow raised. “Ah, well…” He drained his drink, still thinking, “it may have been another weapon I was overhearing. Blade on armor…”

Stella was quick to cut in again, “It’s alright! No matter what specific weapon, it’s not important to what you were saying!”

“Yes, yes. Here, I must stop for another drink.”

He stepped away, not looking as he set his empty glass on a tray carried by a tuxedoed imp. Octavia watched after him, a sinking feeling in her stomach. And that feeling was confirmed by a careful but powerful grip on her arm. Andrealphus leaned close to her other ear. “Darling… when a Duke of the Goetia is talking, we listen and agree with whatever he’s saying.”

“But it’s not even true! He makes shit up! I can’t even ask a question about it?!”

She could hear his teeth gritting. “If we want to make friends with the other Goetia — and we very much do — we have to learn to smile and make nice!”

“Oh, leave off her. Let me,” Stella waved her brother away. She set her hand between Octavia’s shoulders and led her to the side of the room. Her touch was far more gentle. “Never mind your uncle, he can be passionate at times!”

Despite the niceties, Octavia could feel the pit in her stomach still. “I’m sorry, I’m not very good at this high society stuff…”

“It’s fine! It’s fine! You are still young! If anything, I wish I could have gotten the chance to teach you these things earlier! But now you finally have a chance to learn. Turn around now.”

She did so. From the edge of the ballroom, she could see the demonic lords all gathered in, all different species, broken off into multiple conversations while servants weaved in between. 

“What do you see?”

“A party?”

“A battlefield. Oh I’ll take that,” Stella snatched an entire platter of hors d'oeuvres from a nearby imp, much to his chagrin. Her voice dropped. “Now keep your eyes on me, but take a side look at the group near us…” 

She did so. 

“They’re united by a common disdain for Forneus, which they consider an open secret. You don’t ask them about it, they’ll deny it, but it’s true…” Her eyes focused on the food though, before plucking up a single overdressed tart. “What they don’t know, is that a little over half of them have been fucking Forneus!”

Octavia couldn’t help but choke back a laugh. 

“I mean, can you blame them, have you seen the man? But, to focus back, many of them have seen fit to share their secret with a good friend, so far removed from the drama that she wouldn’t have anything to benefit from exposing it.” Her eyes narrowed, and her grin widened. “But there’s always a benefit to holding secrets, Via. Take another glance, tell me how happy they look.”

She gave another awkward glance, keeping her face trained towards her mother. “...They don’t look very happy.”

“Someone heard from a friend of a friend, that despite their best efforts to bring Forneus to his knees, someone in their little clique is secretly getting on their knees for him. And everyone else can feel it in the air. And that is very good news for Forneus… whom I have a rather discreet but fruitful business relationship with.” With that she finally popped the tart in her mouth, chewing and swallowing. “And I’ve made sure that he’s heard all about this.” 

Octavia nodded along, daring to tilt her head to look around again. Goetia in fine robes and dresses, some with costumes dating back centuries, others with outfits right from the living world’s latest fashion, all swirling and speaking, making and breaking connections. Between them all, the imps still worked, shuttling empty glasses and dishes to the kitchen before emerging with never-ending refreshments. Octavia knew that they were driven hard, both by Stella and Andrealphus. She had overheard one particularly loud disciplining, “YOU FUCKING MORON! DON’T YOU DARE SPEAK FIRST TO OUR GUESTS!”

“I know,” the same voice spoke to her now, “it’s so much to take in, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s a lot.”

With a dramatic sigh Stella held out the platter again, forcing another passing imp to accept it. “Much as I hate to admit it, your father knew how to work the political game. Oh he would pretend to wear his heart on his sleeve, of course. He could be clever like that, make people think that he truly gave a shit about their problems.”

She felt her stomach turn a bit. Both hands gripped her drink a little tighter.

“He could have taught you so much if he gave half a fuck.” She shook her head. “But don’t worry, I’ll teach you everything I know. And you’re such a smart girl too, you’ll figure it out. Don’t mind your uncle, he’s a pain in the ass, I know.”

“Thanks Mom.”

She held out both arms for a hug. Octavia stepped forward, felt the warm embrace. “I know it’s been a hard year for you, darling. But you’ve been so brave and strong, I’m so proud of you, you know that?”

And Octavia couldn’t help but hug back. She closed her eyes, and she let her heart melt a bit. Her mother wasn’t perfect, but at least she was here, and that had to count for something. Right? “Thanks…” 

“Ohhhh…” Stella pulled back, a gentle smile on her face. “I love you so much honey. Now,” she glanced, pointing at the younger demons present, “why don’t you go and say hello? You have to be a good host after all, if you’re going to be a good princess.” 

“Yeah, okay.” She felt… curiously brightened by that encounter. Another sip from her drink, check her dress. The light purple shimmered with every step, more slender than her mother’s wide poofy outfit. It was the sharp profile of someone due to inherit such a prestigious title and the holdings that came with it… 

Ahead of her she could see other demons, some having already been invested with their own titles, others still waiting for adulthood. They were all snickering — but one by one, all eyes turned to her as she approached. 

The newfound confidence evaporated. 

“Hey, uh… how’s everything?” Octavia tried to put on a cool face, swirling her glass in an intimidating manner. At least she hoped it was.

“Oh the party’s delightful,” a draconic young female nodded. She was dressed in an old-fashioned robe, “I’m so glad you decided to join us, we’ve been missing you!”

“You have?” She did her best to appear detached, aloof, but the answer filled her with both curiosity and dread. Octavia barely knew their names, and even that much only for half the people in this group. 

“Of course we have! You’re our host today, it’s an honor to see you, Princess! An honor I was afraid you’d deprive us of!”

“No! No, I wouldn’t, uh, dream of depriving you of the honor!” It felt so unnatural in her mouth. And from the dragoness’ amused smile, everyone else could tell too. 

Quick, what had Uncle Andy said?

Octavia gave a laugh, a smile of her own. “So, what were you all talking about?”

A male crow lifted his glass for her attention. He had a more modern tuxedo on, “A recent deal I made with a mortal. A political leader on the surface, he had some… troubles, with his opposition, I don’t fucking care, he just wanted my help to get them to listen. Tried to sell me the souls of all his citizens.” 

“What?! But he can’t do that! That’s not how it works!”

“I know! But, I told him that I’d accept, and here’s how I said it, ‘All souls under your power.’ And he shook my hand on it. He’ll have a real fucking shock when he ends up here himself!”

And again laughter at the story’s retelling. Octavia joined them. “I’ve only spent a day in the living world so far. My uncle’s planning to show me how to handle mortal summonings, he said. Once I receive my titles.”

“Yeah, when is that? Andrealphus has been stewarding your legions for almost a year now, right?”

“Soon, in the next month. Then we’ll be petitioning Satan to have them formally handed over.”

“And he hasn’t even taken you to the mortal realm yet?”

“...No, not yet.”

The crow exchanged a knowing smile to the others, and Octavia could feel a wave of amusement pass over them. 

“It’s not like that. He can be obsessed with himself, but my mom’s not going to let him try anything.”

“Look out,” the dragoness spoke up again, “I think she’s going to end up like her father.” 

That prompted open laughter now. Shit. Octavia couldn’t stop herself from zeroing in, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know I mean nothing by it. But, all of that conspiring against Satan, and he didn’t even let his patsy take the fall correctly… forgive me, but I thought Stolas was meant to be one of the wisest of the Goetia?”

Oh what they didn’t know. That was no mere patsy, the confessed conspiracy was all a ruse. If they knew the truth, that he had been fucking an imp… Yes yes, cheating on her mother was bad, but Octavia had picked up that their marriage wasn’t exactly a happy one years ago. 

It had been the way that he’d brought that imp on their ‘father-daughter day.’ The way that he’d forgotten Azathoth’s Tears because he’d been too busy arguing with his wife over their divorce. It had fueled the fear she had, a fear that he’d always managed to quench with every reconciliation. Every time they’d talked and made up, she’d hoped that she’d never have to worry about it again. And then… something else would happen. Every ‘sorry’ had led to another blow. 

And now he was gone. Exiled from their home altogether, blocked from seeing her. He’d insisted that wasn’t what he wanted, but the pills she found… were they just for her mother, his bitchy wife? Or were they because of her? And if they weren’t because of her, why hadn’t he told her? Why had he just left her here with the wife he hated, and her fucking uncle, didn’t even try to call until the morning after his conviction?

All for that imp. 

“Yeah,” she cleared her throat, trying to hide the way her voice cracked. “I thought so too. But he’s just a fucking moron in the end.”

The silence grew uncomfortable around her. She looked into her glass. By Satan, what did she just say? She downed her entire drink. It burned in her throat and her eyes squeezed shut as she blindly held out the glass. An unseen imp took it. With a sigh, she opened her eyes again, looked around her peers, and forced a smile. 

“What? I answered your question, didn’t I? Oh, nearly forgot, as for my uncle? He tries anything, I've got plans for him."

"Really? Like what?"

Shit she called the bluff. Octavia grabbed the first thing that popped in her mind, "I already have Zepar on my side.”

Oh that fucking did it. Octavia felt a grim satisfaction at their surprised faces. “How do you know him?” the dragoness tried to push back. “You’re not at these events!”

“You don’t see me, that says more about you than me.”

The crow laughed at that, this time laughing with her. “I didn’t know you had that in you Octavia! Fuck yeah!” The dragoness looked away, the others smiled again. But Octavia could feel the stare in her back. She turned her head to check. 

Stella lingered at the edge of the ballroom, watching intently. She gave an approving nod. 

Relief flooded through her.

Chapter Text

Millie perched on the corner of the cabinet, her axe over her thighs, running a whetstone along the curved edge. For just a moment, things felt close to normal again. 

Since last Sinsmas, her year had been filled with ups and downs. She’d been terrified to tell Moxxie about the pregnancy. Terrified of what, she couldn’t name. Their relationship splintering? Her work straining? Their lives changing for the worse? Millie rarely felt afraid, but that moment when she’d sat him down and told him about the test, she’d been terrified.

It turned out she’d been afraid of nothing. 

Moxxie suddenly shrieked, “What is that?!” Her head jerked up to see him scramble to the baby carrier. The infant was strapped inside, her lips on the grip of a pistol, bright shining eyes looking up as her father leaned in. His voice went sweet. “Mackie sweetie, can Papa have the gun please?”

With gentle fingers he managed to take the weapon from her hands. She tried to grasp for it, and Moxxie snickered, tickling her nose. 

“Awwwww, who’s the cutest little imp in all of Hell? It’s you! Yes it’s you!” He offered her the binkie that had fallen to the side — then retracted it, to quickly wipe it clean, before offering it for real. Mackie accepted, and Moxxie patted her head. Then he stormed to Blitzø’s office, threw open the door with a ferocity that surprised Millie. “DON’T GIVE THIS TO THE FUCKING BABY!”

“What the fuck Moxxie?! I’m talking to a fucking client!”

“How many times do I have to tell you?! Nothing above a .22 caliber before six months!” He slammed the door, and with a huff slipped the pistol into his jacket pocket, shaking his head at Millie. “Doesn’t know the first thing about being a parent…”

She laughed. “You know he’s going to chew you out for that once he comes back out here?”

“Yeah well, he should’ve been more careful about what he gave to Mackie,” but she could hear it, he was already starting to regret raising his voice at Blitzø. “I’ve told him a hundred times! Dr. Phillip clearly says—”

Loona sighed, lounging behind the desk, rolling her eyes up from her phone. “If you say that stupid fucking goat’s name one more time, I am actually going to kill you.”

“HEY!” Moxxie grabbed the book off the desk, holding it out. A baphomet with long horns and shaggy black fur dominated the cover. “Dr. B. Phillip’s ‘Complete Guide to Imp Infancy’ is the single best-selling source for information about raising a healthy baby!”

“Yeah, a whole lot of money made off of neurotic dumbasses like you.”

“Well excuse me for caring!” 

Loona just looked back at her phone, muttering. “A bigger baby than the actual baby…”

“Come on Mox,” Millie hopped onto the floor again, axe over her shoulder. “She didn’t mean nothin’ by it. Blitzø was just trying to be nice, and everyone’s still getting used to seeing you so intense.”

At that he softened. “I know, I just… I really want to try, you know? Want to make sure I’m being a good dad and all.”

He rubbed the back of his neck… and suddenly jolted in delight as Millie kissed him on the cheek. “I think you’re being the best dad.” 

He turned towards her, they rubbed snouts playfully…

The door slammed open. “Break it up you fucking lovebirds, one baby in the office is bad enough!” Blitzø stalked out, glaring at them. “Alright, new job, pretty standard. One asshole fucked over another asshole, second asshole wants to fuck the first one over right back, blah blah blah blah blah you get it. Rich prick so he might have security. We’re all going topside for this one.”

Moxxie whirled his head around to Millie. “You feeling good today? Sure you can make it?”

“I’m fine, really. I’ve been working again for a few weeks now!”

“I know, but Dr. Phillip says—”

“Mox,” Blitzø pinched between his eyes, “if you say that fucker’s name one more time I am actually going to kill you.”

“Thank you!” Loona echoed.

Moxxie just glared at them both. Then he turned to Millie, “Can I take Mackie this time? You had her on the last job.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Sure, it’s your turn.”

“Yes!”

He ran into the other room for the baby harness. Blitzø glowered after him, then at Millie. She already knew what he was going to ask, “I promise, we’re only having one.”

“Yeah you fucking better,” he spat. Of course that was just his thorny exterior talking, Millie knew that. He had a very loud and very coarse bark. But even when he griped that she was out of commission through her pregnancy, he found her supporting mission roles. Even as he lamented his best killer couldn’t swing a warhammer, he never actually asked it of her. And even now as he muttered under his breath, going to the desk to pull out fresh bullets, he toyed with the baby. “It’s a good thing you look like your mom, can’t take another Moxxie…”

Millie drew closer, and really took a look down at Mackie. She still couldn’t believe it. Having kids had always been for when she was older, when she was a ‘grown-up.’ Now it was actually here. Mackie had her father’s freckles, but otherwise definitely took after her mother with the black hair and the little horn nubs coming in early. She looked up at her Uncle Blitzy, her fist curling around one of his fingers. Then she let out a laugh. 

“What? You think I’m funny? Am I some kinda joke to you or something?” He waved his hand back and forth gently. “When you gonna pick up a knife and start earning your keep around here, huh?”

“We’ll train ‘er up right, don’t you worry. You’ll have a third imp running around here in no time.” 

“Yeah I sure—” Suddenly his cellphone rang. He pulled it out, and sighed. “Fuck me, hold on.” One hand still claimed by Mackie, he answered his phone, eyes rolling up to the ceiling. “Yeah Stolas? You get the return done?”

Millie turned away, pretending to not overhear the conversation. She had to admit in retrospect, divulging the pregnancy news and all the excitement after it had been a welcome diversion from their drama. It wasn’t that Stolas was an unpleasant person, per se. If anything he’d actually been a helpful source of advice for caring for Mackie. He just had to transition from being an aristocratic Goetia noble to a normal every-day demon. That’s what Millie repeated to herself at least. He was certainly making improvements, but still…

“Christ on a stick…” Blitzø sighed again, turning away from Mackie, gently negotiating his hand from her grasp. “No. You can’t just put it back on the shelf and take another one. You have to go to the counter first, show them the item, show them the receipt, explain that it doesn’t work, and then get a new one.” He kept listening, pacing around the desk. “They post it on the fucking wall, you just have to read the instructions! You love reading! They tell you how to do it!” Quiet again, then he suddenly pivoted. “I am not being rude! You called and asked me for help, I’m fucking helping you!”

Meanwhile, Millie went over to the safe on the other side of the room, pulling out her smaller throwing knives, slipping a few larger ones around her ankles. Should she bring her machete? Blitzø had said there’d be security, but it was also just one guy… better to have it and not need it, right? 

“I really can’t do this right now, we’re about to go out for a job. I’m gonna lock the door, when you get back just open it again and do your thing until closing. Alright? You got that? Okay.” He hung up, scowling at the phone… before throwing his head back with a last exasperated sigh. Blitzø pocketed the device, and Millie turned around again before he could see her looking at him. “Loona, get your shit together, we’re going.”

“I’m gettin’, I’m gettin’.” 

She grabbed the black backpack behind the desk, just as Moxxie returned to the room. A fabric harness was now strapped over his belly. He cradled Mackie in his arms for a moment before slipping her inside, “Ready for a little field trip? Wanna see Mommy and Daddy work some more?” His back was turned so he couldn’t see Blitzø rolling his eyes again. Moxxie fastened the last buckle before he turned profile, thumbing over his shoulder at a rifle slung over his back. “Packing light this time. Besides the essentials, three pistols and an automatic.”

“Ahhhh no, no can’t do that.”

Moxxie turned to Blitzø, confused.

“Yeah, see, apparently some important doctor guy says ‘No guns for babies’, so sorry.” He shrugged, and Moxxie glared. “Anyways enough chit-chat, let’s get this shitshow on the road!” 

He rubbed his hand over the Asmodean crystal on his sleeve. A portal opened, and everyone hopped right through to a rooftop.

Millie looked about. They had landed in a city center, albeit one with humbler buildings only about twenty stories high at her estimate. Mountains etched along the bottom of the sky in the distance. Across the skyline she could  see an American flag, a water tower atop a run-down tenement building… and when she turned around, the building they were on sported a fresh billboard above the access entrance: ‘RE-ELECT GOVERNOR JACKSON SHAW’ with a smiling man to one side. 

“Guy we’re looking for is a Lyman Cushing. Rich asshole, you know the type.” He held up a photograph of a light-skinned man with swept grey hair, a pointed chin, and the kind of joyless smile you could only learn in business school. “Client said he’s due in town meeting this Shaw guy, apparently they’re buddy-buddy, so they’ll be at a hotel and out of his mansion. Best time to strike. Loona! We need eyes in the sky!” 

“Already on it.” She sat cross-legged, a computer opened across her lap. With a few keystrokes a small red drone buzzed up out of her backpack. No rotors, a blend of modern technology with Hell’s infernal power. 

“See if you can find him from the windows. Not that I’d mind tearing through a few extra shitbags here, but I just wanna do this clean today.”

Millie watched it descend down the front of the building, before turning to Moxxie. He was standing at the opposite edge, pointing into the distance. “And see those? Those are also mountains. I know they look different from the Wrath Ring, stuff’s real weird in the living world.” 

Mackie just listened along, following where her father was pointing. Once Millie came up beside them though she turned. Her face immediately brightened.

“You excited to see Mama and Papa work today?” She gave Mackie a pinch on her cheek, making her squint one eye cutely. “We’re gonna kill some people together! Yes we are! Oh yes we are!”

While she talked, Moxxie took out one of his handguns, double-checked it. “Good to go…” He stowed it away again, taking out the next one, glancing at Millie. “Now if you start to feel winded, or you need to fall back, let me know and I’ll cover you, okay?”

She straightened up, “Mox, I promise I’m feeling fine. I can do all this just about the same as I used to!”

“‘Just about’ the same?” 

He gave her a sharp look, and she rolled her eyes. “I’m feeling the same. You’re too sweet Mox, really. If I didn’t feel ready to be in the field again, I wouldn’t be here.”

“I know… just, promise you’ll tell me if you need it.” 

“I will.” She reassured him, but as she turned to pace back over to Blitzø, she couldn’t help but feel… exasperated. And she felt bad for feeling that way about Moxxie. He had been nothing but kind and supportive and enthusiastic through her pregnancy and now into their parenthood. He had been everything she’d hoped he’d be. So why did it leave her feeling so exhausted to be asked on an hourly basis if everything was fine, if she was okay, if he could do this for her or that for the baby? At a certain point it just felt overwhelming… 

“Alright, got him!” Everyone perked up at Loona’s voice. “North side, four floors down, big lounge area.”

“Fuck yeah, a killing floor with a view! Come on guys!” Blitzø had been cutting open the air duct cover, and now opened it like a door. “Ladies first!”

Millie nodded as she passed him, and slipped out two small knives. Punching into the metal walls of the duct she began to descend. She could see Moxxie’s silhouette cast above her. “...Uh, do you know if this place was checked for asbestos? I wouldn’t want Mackie to—”

“GET YOUR ASS IN THE FUCKING AIR DUCT MOXXIE!” 

He obliged. 

Minutes later they were all crawling forward, Blitzø leading them towards the north of the building. “Lounge, lounge, lounge, where the fuck’s a lounge…” 

Moxxie suddenly shushed him. 

“Don’t fucking shush me Moxxie! I’m leading right now!” 

“No seriously, shhh! Listen!”

They all paused. A conversation, just ahead and down the right branch of the duct system. Men’s voices, and then “...appreciate it Lyman…”

The trio made a beeline for the voice, and soon surrounded a grate opening into — sure enough — a luxurious lounge. The ornate plush furniture hadn’t been updated in decades, but it served its purpose for the wealthy and powerful that convened here… such as their target, talking to the man Millie had just seen on the billboard outside. Shaw had a narrow face, a head of curly hair, and a voice that was soft and yet sharp at once.

“The polls are looking very favorable. I do hate to tempt retribution by celebrating early, but, well…” He cocked his head. “I’ve already been thinking about my administration for the next four years. Much as I am heartbroken about the unexpected passing of my last Head of Building Codes and Standards, I think it’s only a service to the people of this great state to have a replacement picked out right away.”

Lyman nodded, a glass of wine in his hand. “I totally agree, Governor. And I’m glad you see the sense of putting a man with years of construction management into such a relevant role. Cushing Construction… and of course, other such companies throughout the state, will all flourish.”

Millie silently scoffed to herself. It all came together now, the motivation and everything. Easy open-and-shut job this was…

The governor continued, “I know they will, I know they will. By the way, I know you were close with Reed, right?”

“Yes, we were in college together. We had some bad blood near the end, but… deep down, I never stopped wishing the best for him.”

Moxxie slipped his hand over his mouth to keep himself from laughing. 

“If it’s quite alright with you, I’d like to lead us in a little prayer for Reed. I know some folks might find it improper, but I know you and I both appreciate the role of God in our lives.” He held his hands out, and Lyman set his wine down to take them. “Heavenly Father, we speak to you this day concerning the soul of Reed Cooper. In this life he was a devoted public servant, a brilliant business mind, a good friend, but most of all a man who knew God and family.”

Blitzø sneered in disgust, before pulling out a walkie talkie and very quietly whispering into it, “Loona, we need a distraction. Get the governor guy out of the room.”

“We pray that you have taken this good kind soul into your heavenly kingdom, and that he enjoys eternal paradise with you for all the virtues he showed here on Earth. We ask that we act with the wisdom he showed, and the love he professed for us. We ask that you open our hearts, so that we may always remember Reed and the good that he did. In the name of Christ our Lord, amen.”

“Amen,” Lyman replied, picking up his wine again. “Very beautifully done. Those years on the stage really gave you a gift with words, Jackson.”

“Please, I was just a vessel. God was the one who did the talking. He has been my compass and always will be. Why do you think I still return to my church every Sunday? Nothing, and nobody, is more important to me than God.”

Blitzø gave a dramatic silent retch. Millie and Moxxie both snickered. Luckily before the man could continue any further, the door opened. “Governor, someone from the campaign team called, says it's urgent.” 

“Ah, we’ll continue this discussion later.” Shaw stepped out of the room. The door shut… and Lyman finally let out a sigh. 

“‘Do you wanna pray for Reed’,” he snidely imitated, before downing his wine. “Fucking Jesus freak. Can’t believe he’s popular as he is.”

“He talks about the issues,” came a man’s voice from out of sight. That’s one guard…

“Launching a moral crusade against table foosball in 2025 isn’t talking about the issues, it’s bullshit. I can’t wait until I get my fucking department so I can get the state off my fucking back so I can run my fucking business in peace.” 

“Oh I don’t know if you gotta worry about that much longer!” 

Lyman’s eyes snapped to the vent as Blitzø announced their presence. All three jumped down and into the room, landing with a practiced grace. Millie quickly checked around. Two guards, caught unaware. Perfect. She motioned to one, Moxxie nodded. Meanwhile Blitzø pulled out his gun, trained it on their target. 

“By the way, you’re right, that whole prayer was bullshit. Reed’s not waiting for you in heaven , motherfucker.”

Millie and Moxxie each pounced towards a guard. She pulled a smaller knife first, and with inhuman speed scaled his body! Before he could reach his pistol she had the blade to his neck. “You don’t move now, y’hear!?” 

Moxxie had vaulted over a couch and raked his claws over his target’s face. As he yowled, the imp snatched the gun from the holster, aimed it up through the man’s neck. 

BAM. 

He jerked back and collapsed against the wall, choking on his own blood. Then Moxxie pounced onto the couch again. Millie kicked off from behind her human, and with another BAM he was dead. And then a third BAM. 

Lyman staggered sideways, and fell across the floor. A chunk of his skull was now missing. 

Blitzø raised his brow, blood covering half his body, nodding. “Damn. Almost went too quick for me. But, good work team, easy money’s the best money!” 

Moxxie was stepping back over, slipping the stolen gun into the first guard’s hand, and cooing down at Mackie. “See that? You gotta be sneaky sometimes. Now, they think it’s this guy’s gun that killed them. Pretty smart huh?” 

Millie snickered, walking up to Blitzø photographing the body, then giving himself a selfie with it. “We better get movin’.”

“What’s wrong Mills? In a rush?” He stuck his tongue out, winked, flashed a peace sign over the bloodied corpse. 

“They’re gonna hear those shots, we should get outta here.”

“Yeah yeah, hold on, I’ll open a portal for ya.” He rubbed at the crystal on his sleeve, smearing blood over it.

Nothing happened. 

“...Blitzø?”

“That’s weird…” He rubbed again. “Shit, they’re being too sensitive again, can’t get the right rub on them.”

“So… how do we get down out of here?”

Blitzø froze. 

All the lights went out, leaving only the window light. And then they began blaring red, a siren sounding. “THIS IS A CODE RED LOCKDOWN, PLEASE SHELTER IN PLACE. THIS IS A CODE RED LOCKDOWN, PLEASE SHELTER IN PLACE.”

 “Shit! Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit!” Blitzø scrambled about, trying to rub both crystals, looking for something to help… and then decided on the window. “Quick, out this way!” 

“We’re fifteen stories up!” Millie followed him, “Unless there’s some kind of conveniently placed window washing platform just out of view there, then I don’t know how—” Then she looked. “Well I’ll be damned…”

The glass shattered. Two very confused human workers looked up as Blitzø leapt down between them, bared his claws, whipped his head about like a rabid dog. “RAHHHHHHH I’M A SCARY DEMON I’M GONNA EAT YOUR FUCKING SOUL RAHHHHHHHH!” The pair both leapt screaming, falling, falling to the ground below… and Blitzø looked back up with a cheerful grin. “Okay it’s safe now!”

They rode the platform all the way down. Luckily everyone else was too busy rushing into the building to notice the pair of dead bodies on the far side of the entrance. Once they made it to the ground, Blitzø leapt for the grass and began wiping his crystals clean on it. “These fucking things, pain in my little, red, hole.” Finally with a huff he lifted his arm again, gave a rub… and the portal opened. “FINALLY! And still, no one saw… us…”

In his celebration he hadn’t looked back at Millie and Moxxie, both staring at a grizzled old man on the street who clearly hadn’t bathed in days. He had a picket sign over his shoulder, and gaunt eyes were wide as he took in the creatures before him. 

“...Well no one who’ll be believed. Alright, through the portal before any more complications happen! Gotta get one back up there for Loony too. Come on,” he shepherded Moxxie through, then Millie. 

She looked back at him as he glanced at the human one last time. Through the portal she could see the letters scrawled on his sign: ‘THE END IS NEAR’.

“Pfft. Yeah right, pal.” Blitzø gave him a wink and click of the tongue, before disappearing into the portal himself. 

Chapter Text

Lucifer leaned forward with his elbows on the stone tabletop, red light streaming in through the ornate windows around him. Seven stone seats sat around a massive ring perched on the lip of a fiery crater, crags jutting out of the lava below. Each seat was marked with the sigil of its respective Sin. The largest seat was Satan’s of course, hulking hellbeast that he was. But the tallest seat of them all, elevated even above Satan’s… was Lucifer’s, perched atop a column of living rock. It was an ancient chamber, at odds with the phone he pressed against his head. 

“Charlie honey, I hear what you’re saying, but this is going to be a lot worse than what we fought off. I don’t really know what we’re going to do, that’s what I’m going to be talking to the other King Sins about right now.” She kept talking, of course she was, never one to accept a bad situation. She still had utmost faith in her cause, even now…

He heard the unlatching of a door echoing in the distance.

“It’s time, I have to let you go, I’ll tell you what we decide later, and not a word to anyone else until I say so, okay? Okay, love you, bye.” 

Lucifer stashed his phone away as the others began to arrive. He could see Mammon lift his hand to shield his eyes and stare up at him, checking that he was even actually here. It had been years since he’d called court like this, and he knew people were already talking. From this distance he allowed a moment to collect himself…

“Hey Lucy!” Beelzebub’s voice echoed up to him. He glanced down at her. “Long time no see!” 

He gave her a smirk she couldn’t even see, a nod. Leviathan, Asmodeus, Belphegor… and finally, in a column of flame, Satan appeared standing before his seat, towering over all the rest. Again, except for Lucifer. 

The fallen angel stood now, adjusting his suit. “It’s, ah, it’s been a long time, guys.”

Silence greeted him. 

“Been a while since we formally got together, to talk about things. But, ah…” He rubbed the back of his neck, deciding to break the news with an awkward smile, “...this is probably going to be the last time we do this?”

Even from this distance he could see the sins react. Satan’s eyes narrowed and he leaned forward. 

“I don’t really know how to sugar coat this. Armageddon is in about two months.”

Beelzebub and Asmodeus and Mammon and Leviathan all jumped to their feet: “We didn’t even get to know—” “—going to happen to all the hellborn—” “—TELL US about this huge fucking—” “—outrageous, to just drop this on—”

Satan’s wings beat dramatically, silencing the rest. He stayed sitting but his burning yellow eyes narrowed as he focused on Lucifer. “When did you find this out?”

“Just today. I told you all this was an emergency.” He glared back, before looking around again. “The prophecies of St. John are already unfolding. In a few days Heaven will open the fifth seal, the righteous will be summoned to their side, and we will be granted rule over the living world.”

Oh at that… the energy changed. The fury dissipated, replaced with a dawning excitement. Even Satan, for once, seemed at a loss to attack him. Mammon broke the silence. “Soooooo… when you say we get to rule the living world, you don’t mean just, we get to tempt them more? You meeeean…”

“That’s what we’re going to decide here, how we use our seven weeks. There’s one and only one objective for us to focus on: preparing for battle against Heaven. Surviving the battle against Heaven, and preventing the part of the prophecy where we’re all killed.”

Lucifer stretched his hand out. The open space between them was filled with images illustrating his words:

“In the recent skirmish, we saw firsthand that the forces of Heaven can be harmed with blessed angelic weapons. If we could prepare and train every sinner and every hellborn to use these, then we would have a chance.”

“If,” Asmodeus interjected.

“...That is the problem we’re facing. From what I understand, Carmilla Carmine only has a limited amount. And any hellborn or sinner without angelic weapons might as well be cannon fodder. This isn’t going to be like a regular extermination either. Every angel in Heaven, and all the humans they’ve gathered over the years, will be coming at us. So we need a more solid plan.”

Lucifer paused. Nobody answered.

“Ideas? Anyone?”

Mammon raised his hand. Lucifer gestured to him. “Can we go back to the part where you said we’re gonna rule Earth?”

He shut his eyes, clutching his scepter with both hands, forcing a smile over his mouth. “We’ll talk about that once we start getting some solid ideas for a strategy to not die.”

“Don’t speak to us with that tone…” 

But it wasn’t Mammon… 

Satan kept sitting, clutching the stone armrests as he leaned forward. “You abdicate your throne for years, neglect your duties as King of Hell, and then come back and reassert yourself? And you expect us to bend the knee just because you say so?”

Yes, actually. That’s the retort that Lucifer desperately wanted to spit back at him. But, he knew that would only cause more problems. Dammit he was never good at this royal politics thing. “It’s not that simple. There was… I had things to deal with, okay? I was very busy, and my attention was taken away. It’s not like Hell burned down or anything in the meantime though! If there was a real problem I would have come back to deal with it! Like I am right now!”

“Yes… now you’re back,” the draconic lord tilted his head. Steam curled from his nostrils, and claws clicked upon the rock. “And at such a convenient time too. Your daughter provokes Heaven, you finally stand up to the exterminations, and in retaliation they announce the end of times. How very, very convenient for a man intent on using a crisis to assert himself.”

“...First of all,” Lucifer stepped up onto his stone table, giving himself just a few more feet of height against Satan, “don’t you dare bring my daughter into this. Second, it’s actually rather inconvenient for this to be happening right now. It’s going to be very ‘inconvenient’ for all of us…” He lifted a hand again, and the images floating in the air turned graphic, “to be pierced through the chest, or chained for eternity in a lake of fire. This is the issue we have to focus on right now, our survival. We can’t be arguing about the semantics of where I’ve been and—”

Satan’s fists slammed down, and he stood suddenly. His wings spread wide. “That’s not even what ‘semantics’ means! DON’T!” He jabbed his finger at Lucifer before he could reply back; his hand shredded the visuals. “You dare condescend to me? I have ruled Hell before you even knew this place existed. I am focused on the issue of our survival, and how likely we are to achieve it by following you!”

At that Lucifer’s wings flared and he leapt into the air! He could see his shadow against the light streaming through the window. His tail and horns materialized again and fire curled from his mouth, “ You don’t talk to ME that way! I am trying to help you and you can’t see past your own ego long enough to realize that?!”

The dragon snarled, one side of his snout flaring… but then, there was a gleam in his eyes. He straightened up. He smiled. “You’re right, your Majesty. I apologize. Please ‘enlighten’ us then, O Lightbringer. Before I interrupted,” Satan lifted his hands to either side, looking at the other sins present, “you were telling us your plan?”

…That’s right. Lucifer looked down at the others. Bee and Ozzie were a little more neutral, with expressions like kids watching a sibling get scolded by a parent. Mammon and Leviathan were leaning forward more intently, drinking in this glorious drama. Belphegor… was asleep already. He exhaled, smoke rushing past his teeth. “...That’s why I called us all here. To figure that out,” Lucifer repeated. 

That only made Satan chuckle. “No, you called us here to figure out a plan, for you to then take the credit for. So that everyone will cheer and adore and praise your ego. Isn’t that right?” 

Lucifer curled his fists again, and he had half a mind to just blast the dragon right here and now with all of his celestial power. But it wouldn’t be that simple, not with a King Sin and especially not with Satan. And the last thing Hell needed was a civil war to distract them. So he had to tolerate the words being thrown at him…

“You’re a ruthless attention seeker. It got you thrown out of Heaven, and it led to you being an absent monarch here in Hell as you pursued only your interests. Meanwhile I have stewarded the Seven Rings, I know exactly what we are capable of. And I know how we can find a solution.”

At that Lucifer broke out of his fuming rage, at least a bit. 

“The Ars Goetia scour the furthest stars and the most arcane secrets of Creation for ways to further the cause of sin. Their noble minds will surely be able to build a weapon that can destroy Heaven’s armies. And in the meantime, we will plunder the living world for its resources and technology.” 

“Plunder…” Lucifer had a feeling it would lead to this, but to hear Satan actually suggest it…

“We will have seven weeks without the interference of Heaven. It is only logical that we take the mortal realm for ourselves. It’s what the prophecy entitles us to. Unless…” Satan took a step closer, “...you have a soft spot for the humans?”

He pictured them, the mortals… mad emperors burning down their own capitals, horse riders looting cities, great artists and thinkers martyred across history. 

“Well?”

Lucifer snorted. He suddenly flew right up to Satan’s face, looked him in the eye. “I don’t care what you do with them. I already said I only care about the survival of Hell.”

“A welcome change in priority…” The dragon sneered. Then he stepped back, lifted his own hand. An image of a city conjured up now. “But we won’t only take their resources. There’ve been rumblings among the lower races of Hell, discontent. It will be good for them to, how do you say… let off steam.”

The little humans between the buildings were suddenly beset by monstrous forces in red. Lucifer could hear them screaming. He looked away. Bee and Ozzie, again a pair, watched with mouths hanging open slightly. Mammon and Leviathan meanwhile had a dark glint in their eyes. He could already tell that they were on board with this. “So, we’re going to approach it more literally then. Sinners and hellborn walking the Earth.”

“HA!”

The sheer power of Satan’s voice made even Lucifer recoil. The dragon lurched forward, eyes ablaze. 

“I knew you still had a soft spot for those mortals! Even now at the end of the world you’d have those damned souls lording over our creations! They had their time on Earth! Your humans, your sinners and their overlords, will stay in the Pride Ring through our invasion!”

Okay. This was crossing a line. “You do not give me orders! You do NOT give me demands! And I do not give a SINGLE! FLYING! FUCK about the humans! I have had it with your disrespect! I shouldn’t have EVER tolerated you trying to usurp me!”

“I usurp YOU!?”

“Okay!” There was a zip in the air, and suddenly Lucifer found Beelzebub between him and Satan. “Okay, listen, there’s… let’s just calm down, okay? Satan, baby,” she gave him a playful look, “let me talk to Lucy here a minute.”

He narrowed his eyes… but the dragon relented, with a hint of smirk on his face. Lucifer watched him sit back down, before focusing on Beelzebub. “Bee, I appreciate you wanting to keep the peace, but I have to very nicely ask you to let me go so I can kill him!”

“Lucy, listen to me, okay?” He just looked away. “Are you listening?” He had to pause, before finally nodding. “I know he can be an asshole sometimes, he can get heated. But… he does kinda have a point.”

“About the plan? Yeah I guess, it’s the best we have right now.”

“Well that, yes. But he’s also right about the hellborn.” 

Lucifer stared at her in shock. “I didn’t think you had a grudge against the humans?”

“No, it’s not that. And it’s also not the whole ‘social control’ thing, the guy’s… been really weird this past century. It’s just…” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Look, let’s be real here. We’re probably not going to survive Armageddon.”

“We can! We just need to focus and get our shit together and we can come up with a plan!” 

“Okay, I do like the attitude, very inspiring. But my point is, there’s at least a chance we don’t win, right? And if that happens… I want my hellhounds to have had at least a little time on the surface, having a bit of fun before it all goes away. A little bit of time where… you know… they don’t feel like they’re bottom of the barrel?” 

That last bit, he could feel the pointed words. A caste system had plagued Hell almost since the moment it was born — not the least because Satan deliberately built his own race of creatures to be servants. But Bee actually cared about the creatures she’d made, and they’d gotten it the worst. He knew that. 

“Do this for me. For Ozzie, look at him.” Lucifer did so; Asmodeus was looking up at them, but clearly not paying attention, drumming his fingers on the stone, in deep thought. “I know he’s worried about his incubi and succubi. Please.”

Lucifer hesitated. Then he turned, looking at everyone.

Satan cut in again, his voice calmer but still just as imperious, “As I said, it would be prudent for us to give the hellborn an outlet for their growing dissatisfaction. Keeps ‘em docile. The plan does not work if they continue to be at the mercy of sinners and overlords.”

There were nods down below. Fuck, they were really going to force his hand. “Fine! Let’s vote on it. All who support restraining the sinners to the Pride Ring during the invasion?”

Satan, Mammon, and Leviathan all lifted their hands. Bee did as well. Ozzie snapped out of his worries, and he was a little more bashful about it, but his hand also went up. The only other holdout was Belphegor… still snoozing. 

Mammon elbowed her. “Hey! We’re voting on something?”

“Eh, huh?” She woke up, blearily rubbing her eyes and raising her hand. “Aye, I’m voting for it! What are we voting on?”

“Unanimous then,” Satan smirked. “Unless his majesty would care to go against all the other sins?”

Lucifer sighed. Here he thought they’d be able to come together again, for once. Come up with a coherent plan, for once. Rally together, for once. But as usual, egos almost as big as his own had to come in… “I literally don’t care what you do on the fucking planet. Just…” He shrugged. “Do you even need me here then? I’ll just fly around and blast things in Armageddon, I’ll just do whatever you tell me I need to do, since all my ideas are so terrible.”

He turned away… but felt Bee take his elbow. “Hey?”

“What?”

Her eyes were warm. “It’s good to see you again. I missed you.” 

For a few more seconds he met her gaze. Then his eyes fell to the grip on his arm. Lucifer pulled himself free and glid back to his seat.

“Awwwww, come on Lucy!” Mammon called from down below. “Don’t be so sore! It’ll be great fun! Gonna start planning a new mansion and everything! It’ll be GREAT!”

Yeah… Lucifer mused bitterly to himself, settling back at his seat, as the conversation continued without him. Yeah, it’ll be just as great as everything else they’ve fucking accomplished so far here…

Chapter Text

Stolas leaned forward, fingers on the keyboard and mouse as he clicked his way through two menus…okay, and then “print” again. 

The printer whirred to life beside him. 

“YES!” He threw both fists into the air, laughing in triumph. Just wait until Blitzy got home and saw—

And right on cue, he heard three bangs on the front door. “Stolas! Little help!”

He raced over and found Blitzø struggling with a pair of paper bags. “Oh, here…” 

Stolas took one.  The imp slipped past his legs and dumped the remaining groceries on the counter. He took a moment to catch his breath again. Then he dug around, grabbed a six-pack of Beelzejuice, and took it over to Loona’s door. “Loonieee!” He knocked. “Got your drinks!”

The door cracked open just enough for her to grab them before slamming again. 

“You’re welcome!”

He laughed it off before turning back to Stolas, who was itching to show him what he’d done. “I got everything fixed with the printer!”

“What really? How the fuck did you do that?”

“I don’t know really, I just… I looked up what was wrong with it and followed the directions.” That’s really as simple as it was to him, and yet Stolas had found that apparently reading directions on how to fix something and then following them was a unique skill. He had to admit it felt good to have a skill like that, even if it felt as natural as just reading. 

Blitzø pushed in beside him, no concern as usual for personal space. He typed out a string of gibberish and sure enough, it printed. “YES! FUCK YES!” He cackled. “Okay now we can print out those flyers without having to deal with that dipshit at store. ‘Menace to life and limb and property’, I’ll fucking show him menace…”

With the imp now fully commandeering the computer, Stolas stepped away, taking a watering can on the counter and striding over to a few pots outside on the balcony table. Some humble sprouts perched in them with vines unfurling over the metal grating. “Thirsty, little darlings?” 

Their leaves twitched and relaxed as he watered them. His mind went back to the first plants he’d cultivated when he first began exploring herbology. They’d grown to be so proud and mighty… up until he’d been kicked out of his home. And by now if they hadn’t been frozen over, that bitch Stella and her brother had certainly tossed them out!—

No. 

Stolas shook his head. No, he was getting caught in that thought process again. He’d get so caught up in his hatred towards them that he’d only distract himself. Just… one thing at a time. First, the plants. He kept measuring out their water. Then, time at home. He had specifically scheduled  ‘unstructured free time’ today so that he could come back tomorrow refreshed and ready to crack the problem. Appealing his case was already difficult when he had, of course, openly confessed to conspiracy. Appealing such a difficult case to Satan was going to take longer than the ninety-nine remaining years in his sentence. 

And then there was Via. 

Stolas couldn’t help it. He let himself get distracted, looking over the edge of the balcony to Imp City.  The avenue below was filled with imps criss-crossing the streets and sidewalks. In the distance taller towers reached the red sky, and he could just make out a screen advertising VoxTech. On the far distant side of the Pride Ring near Pentagram City, he knew, Via was huddled in the manor. 

He still couldn’t believe himself. He could’ve come up with another story, made some other statement to the court, but he’d just said the first thing that came to his mind to save Blitzø’s life. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Now she thought he didn’t care about her, that he’d been trying to escape her. She hated him, and… it was his fault. 

So it was on him to fix this.

“Hahaaaa, we are good to GO!” Blitzø came out behind Stolas, a thick wad of pamphlets in his hands. “Tomorrow I’ll send M’n’M out to run these through the sinner neighborhoods. Get them on every light pole. Holiday season’s coming up, deadliest time of the year in the living world, so that means plenty of fresh customers!” With a satisfied sigh he looked out over the street and city along with Stolas. Then back up at him. “Whatcha looking at?”

“Oh nothing, just thinking…”

“Yeah? What about?”

Stolas just met him with a sad, pointed look. 

“Right, right…” Blitzø looked away…before rushing back inside. “Hold on, stay right there, don’t move. I was gonna save this for later but fuck it.” He dropped the papers on the counter before rummaging into the bag again. “You know something? Streets were crawling with reapers today, saw like three of them!” The imp started ripping open some containers.

“Really? Must have been looking for someone. Either a sinner got too big for their boots, or a hellborn crossed one of the Goetia…”

Blitzø scoffed at the twisted humor, “Don’t I know it. Whoever it is is a poor rat bastard…” He came back out to the balcony again. “Guess what I gooooot. Horse dovers!”

“...I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me right! Horse dovers! Rich people food!” And with a grin he held up a plate. It was filled with plain soda crackers topped with ripped up slices of cheese and salami  and olives, all held together with toothpicks. 

Stolas blinked, and despite the clouds in his mind he smiled. “It’s…” He couldn’t bring himself to correct Blitzø’s pronunciation, it’d be a slap in the face to his kindness . “It’s lovely Blitzy, thank you.” He accepted one. It was a far cry from the fine sausage and sharp cheddars he’d enjoyed in his manor; it also tasted far more comforting. “It’s very kind of you.”

“Yeah, I was just thinking, we’re coming up to the one year anniversary of…you moving in, and thought you could use a little taste of home.”

“It is very lovely,” Stolas accepted a couple more of the hors d'oeuvres. “I just…don’t know what to do about it. Every time I think of what to say to Via, it just falls apart in my mind. And then I think actions speak louder than words, but I can’t think of anything that I could feasibly do that she’d want to see. And it just cycles in my head.”

 Blitzø slid the plate onto the table beside the plants, setting one hand on the railing and looking out and away. “You’re real good with the computer stuff, you know that?”

“Heh, yeah, guess I am…”

“I know I give you shit about fitting in with us normal lower-class folks here, but you’re not stupid. I’m sure you can figure something out.”

“Thank you, Blitzy. But…well, people are a lot more complicated than computers. I can’t exactly look up a guide to apologizing to Via.” He sighed, leaning forward over the balcony railing himself. “I just…I want things to go back the way they were. If I could just do it over again, I wouldn’t be such an idiot …”

Blitzø was quiet for a moment. “ Just the way things were?”

“Of course.”

The imp was quiet again. “Here, I’m gonna put away the rest of the shit. Finish up the rest of these, I gotta—”

Blitzø’s phone buzzed.

“Oh for fuck’s sake it’s my day off, if that’s Moxxie I swear I’m gonna rip him a new asshole!” 

But as he pulled his phone out, Stolas’ also went off further in the room with a blaring tone. Then again from inside Loona’s room. And echoing from down in the street dozens of times. The TV suddenly turned itself on and the screen showed the sigil of the Seven Sins. The words on the screen matched the voice that started echoing outside:

“The following is a decree by the Seven Sins. Full obedience is expected! By the authority of His Majesty Lucifer Morningstar, all infernal hosts are being formally—”

Loona’s door opened, and she stepped out, staring at her phone. “Uhhhh… what the fuck is going on?” 

“Shhhh!” Stolas tried to quiet her, listening to the television set. Whatever this was, it could not be good. 

“—are to report to their native rings.  There are no exceptions. Any attempt of a hellborn to remain within the Pride Ring will be—” 

Pounding on the door down the hall. Stolas whipped his head around and heard through the door, “Clear out! Get out of here, get back to the Wrath Ring now!”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?!” That was the neighbor. “I just got the message, gimme a fucking moment to pack!”

“No packing! Everybody out NOW!” 

Blitzø’s voice got his attention again, “What the shit…” He wasn’t looking at his phone, he was looking down over the edge of the balcony. Stolas rushed over beside him and looked again. 

In just a few seconds the street had already transformed. Baphomets in the red peaked caps of the Sins’ enforcers had appeared and were hurrying down the sidewalks, pausing to talk with people, pointing them towards the end of the road. A reaper stood on the corner watching the proceedings unfold. The screens in the distance no longer showed advertisements for overpriced goods or the newest pornos; instead there were arrows, pointing to nearby elevators. 

“—not attempt to gather your belongings. Do not return home if you are out. Proceed directly to the nearest elevator for transit.  Sinners, remain indoors to avoid—”

Hammering on their door now. “Open up! Under the authority of the Sins!” Stolas could see Blitzø’s face take on a genuinely terrified look, that he hadn’t seen since that fateful day in court. The door rattled again. “OPEN UP!” Blitzø pressed back into the railing…

Loona saw this, and suddenly moved to open it herself. Blitzø started forward. She yanked it open and roared, “We HEARD IT! We’re coming!” 

“One minute to be out this door,” and he moved on. 

“Stolas…” Blitzø’s voice was uncharacteristically meek as he held his phone up for the owl to see the message. “You know about this kind of shit. What exactly do they mean by ‘mobilization’?”

Stolas thought about it. Then his eyes suddenly snapped skyward. The most recent extermination had just been canceled, there wasn’t some unannounced retribution, was there? Was Hell being invaded? But he saw no angels in the sky. Unless Heaven’s armies were literally inside the rings he couldn’t see a reason for such an expedited movement…

“Guys! Come on, grab your shit!” Loona snapped at them as she disappeared back into her room, breaking Stolas from his frantic thoughts.

“They said not to bring anything though.”

“Yeah well fuck that.” Through the door Stolas could see her grab the drone bag, then yank her phone charger from the wall. Phone charger! Yes! Stolas quickly raced to grab his and Blitzø’s both. 

The imp was slowly unfreezing, wandering into the living room, hand rubbing at his chest, realizing they weren’t coming for him personally. “Stolas, what do they mean by mobilization? Isn’t that some kind of army thing?”

“They’re mustering the hosts of Hell. And remember, the hosts of Hell are made up of all the hellborn…”

“What, am I getting fucking drafted or something?! Nobody’s given a shit about which host they’re part of in centuries! What the FUCK is going on?!”

Oh for Satan’s sake, “I don’t KNOW Blitzø! In case you didn’t notice, I’m not exactly on the inside of these things any more!”

“Don’t start talking down to me, I’m just asking you a fucking question!”

“YOU don’t start yelling at ME again!”

“WELL I’M KINDA FREAKING THE FUCK OUT RIGHT NOW!” 

“DAD! Stolas!” Loona got between them, “Can we not do this right now?! Come on, let’s just get out of here before that guy comes back!”

Stolas followed the others out into the hallway. The printed flyers, the dressed up crackers, the groceries on the counter, would never be touched again. 

Other imps were making their way to the exit too: a lone man in T-shirt and jeans, a small family dressed like a Dickensian novel, two women in bell bottoms and tank tops, all of them similarly confused and hesitant and yet moving their feet in compliance. Stolas hardly knew them beyond the petty bickering of icy neighbors, but for now all of that didn’t matter.  Outside the announcement was already repeating:

“By the authority of His Majesty Lucifer Morningstar, all infernal hosts are being formally summoned. All hellborn are to report to their native rings.  There are no exceptions.”

Stepping outside, the street was almost unrecognizable now. Sidewalks were filled with imps, with a smattering of other hellborns here and there. A hellhound mother had her baby lifted out of its stroller as she nodded along to a baphomet’s instructions. People were spilling into the road and drivers leaned on their horns, ranting out their windows, while the pedestrians shouted back, and again the officers were trying to intervene. All of them baking and sweating under a ‘sunny’ blood red sky.

Stolas towered over the crowd taking shape around them. In every direction he could see chaos slowly sweeping them down the street, around the corner. Honking. Shouting. Babies crying. A grocery store abandoned with stands in front; a pair of sharks passed by, glancing around before snatching some food and stuffing it into their jackets. 

Coming up to the intersection Stolas saw a reaper standing in silence, glaring without eyes at the shepherded hellborn. Blitzø spotted it and froze; it nearly got him bowled over by the folks behind them. “Hey keep moving ASSHOLE!” “Dad, come on!” Stolas set his hand on the imp’s shoulder, guiding him forward, turning his own head to fix his gaze on the creature. The words still bounced off the buildings around them from a dozen different points:

“Proceed directly to the nearest elevator for transit. Do not attempt to gather your belongings. Do not return home if you are out. Proceed directly to the nearest elevator for transit.”

There was the sound of chopping in the air, before a helicopter glid overhead low to the ground. Flyers ripped off of light poles and fluttered in the wind of the copter blades. Its shadow swept down the road over the crowd, before crossing the entrance to the elevators.

“BLITZØ!” 

That was Millie’s voice. She cleaved through the crowd to reach them, dragging Moxxie in tow, who in turn had Mackie hugged to his chest. The baby looked about, mouth hanging open, struggling to take it all in; Stolas could tell she was on the brink of crying. Moxxie meanwhile kept his eyes darting around. “What the fuck’s going on?! What host are we even supposed to go to?!” He directed that last question at Stolas.

“I don’t know!”

“How do you not know?!”

“You’re a Goetia!” Millie chimed in.

“You think I gave a shit about who was or wasn’t in my hosts?! HEY!” 

An imp had suddenly elbowed him. “Watch where you’re going jackass!”

“I’m just trying to get there!” He sighed as the imp just shuffled away still swearing under his breath, the space now opening up as they reached the elevator station. Then he returned to Moxxie, “This hasn’t happened for hundreds of years, and I can’t remember the last time it was on such a scale. I wouldn’t even know where the records are!” 

“Leaving for the Greed Ring!” A baphomet held his hand out to a nearby elevator car. “Sharks only, for the Greed Ring!

The station here was always crowded, but now it was borderline deafening from the shouts and commands echoing off the gilded walls. “Now arriving for Gluttony! Gluttony Ring, all hellhounds onboard!” 

“Holllld on there,” a baphomet grabbed Loona’s wrist as she tried to edge past. 

“What — hey!”

She instinctively ripped her hand out of his grasp. The officer recoiled in confusion. “Hellhounds are boarding here!”

“Uh, no!” Blitzø finally snapped to his usual self and barged right into the baphomet’s face, “She’s my daughter, I legally adopted her, she’s coming with us to the Wrath Ring!” 

But already another pair of officers were coming up, and a reaper was starting to look their way. Stolas lifted his hand, “Blitzø, I think—”

“Don’t you FUCKING DARE take their side! Come on Loona, hey! HEY! GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF HER!” 

The officers grabbed her wrists. She tried to pull back. This time they anticipated her resistance and yanked her forward. Loona snarled, reared her head. “Fucking LET GO OF ME!”

A black chain materialized around her neck and she was wrenched forward. The chain led to a reaper’s mottled fingers. “Imps to the Wrath Ring!” His free hand pointed to the distant elevator. “Hellhounds to Gluttony! No exceptions!”

“LOONA!” All fear leaving him Blitzø lunged forward. Stolas had to grab him off the ground. He squirmed and kicked. “LET GO OF ME! THOSE FUCKWADS AREN’T GONNA TAKE HER!” 

“Dad!” Another pull, she was trying to strain against it, but the reaper’s magic was too powerful. Meanwhile the baphomets tried to herd the rest of them away.

“Let! Me! GO!” He began beating Stolas across the back, the blows raining on his back and shoulders and flank, and then twisted to bite at his arm!

“Ach! BLITZØ!” Stolas finally held him out in front of him, grip tightening “You can’t do anything here! None of us can! You’re going to get yourself arrested and put on trial again and this time I won’t be able to save you! We have to figure something out later!”

“Oh right, you’re the last —” He was about to spit something out… but he faded into a murderous scowl, unable to finish his words. 

Stolas could guess what he was going to say. He turned his head to the reaper and the officers. “Where am I supposed to go then?!”

“Just go to your native ring!” 

“Will you look at me?! I’m not an imp or hellhound or anything listed here! Where am I supposed to go?!”

The reaper actually paused. The shapeless void gazed into Stolas’ eyes. He could feel a quaver deep in his heart but he fought it down. “...Any ring, just bring yourself before a Sin.” 

“I will go with Loona then!” He faced back to Blitzø. Thank Satan it seemed to actually calm him. “I’ll go with her, she won’t be alone. I’ll find a way back to you.” 

He set the imp back on the ground. Blitzø pointed up at him, eyes narrowed. “You better fucking promise.”

“I do!”

“Say it.” 

“I promise we’ll get back to you! If it takes days or weeks, we will both get back to you.”

By now Loona had also calmed. Stolas walked over to her; the chain dissipated from around her neck, and with a snarl she ripped her hands from the two baphomets holding her. 

“Come on, it’ll be okay…” Stolas rested her hand on her shoulder, helped to guide her into the golden elevator car. She glared around, still baring her teeth, but he could feel that she was trembling. He turned his head all the way around to look back. Even as hellhounds filled the space behind them, Stolas could see Millie and Moxxie watching, and Blitzø between them with a steely glare. Stolas nodded.

He really hoped he could keep his promise. 

The elevator door shut, and the announcement trailed off as they began to descend, “By the authority of His Majesty Lucifer Morningstar…”

Chapter Text

“This way, my Lord, your Highness.” 

Octavia followed behind her mom and uncle as they were led from their carriage. A crack of a whip from the driving imp and it took off again, skeletal horses pulling it into the air. The three were now surrounded by other Goetia.

“Eugh, the Wrath Ring…” Stella stepped over to the edge of the plateau. They stood atop a massive stone butte, looking over the desert plain and other formations around them. A volcano smoked in the distance, glowing orange in the night sky. As Octavia drew close to look down, she could also see people. Thousands, hundreds of thousands of imps pouring into the wide open valley below. 

“Mom? What’s going on?”

“Shhhhhhhh…” She gripped Octavia’s shoulder and led her away from the group. “Don’t say that out loud. Remember what I taught you?”

“Uh… don’t let other people know what I don’t know.”

“That’s a good girl! Now…” Stella forced her closer, whispering quietly yet sharply, “what your uncle was told was that the hellborn are being mustered, and Satan wants to speak with us Goetia in particular afterwards.”

Octavia tried to think again. “Why are the hellborn being mustered?”

“This hasn’t happened in thousands of years. There’s only one explanation for it—”

“Stella?” Flauros was looking down on the crowd of imps as well. His eyes narrowed as he pointed. “Right there… isn’t that the imp that your husband was fucking?”

“WHAT?!” Abandoning her thought mid-sentence she stormed over beside him. She twirled her fingers to produce a spyglass and looked down into the crowd. Octavia tried to see for herself, to catch where her mother was looking, but from this distance it was difficult to tell where one imp began and another ended. “Oh you are right! He’s got the scar on his face and everything! And he’s got those other two with him… but where the fuck is Stolas?”

Flauros’ tail flicked. Octavia could see the leopard’s fangs sneer, “Maybe he already got bored of his toy…”

“HA! Sounds about right for him!” Stella tossed the spyglass away before putting her hands either side of her mouth: “HEY YOU FUCKING HOMEWRECKER! HOW’S IT FUCKING FEEL?!”

Octavia just looked away, rubbing her arm.

Flauros tilted his head. She met his gaze. Then he gestured for her, “Come, young princess. May I draw you a seat?” Without waiting for her reply he lifted a hand. The stone nearby began to glow, crack apart, thick lava shoving upwards into the air. It formed itself into a simple stone throne. “Please, I insist…” 

“Uh… thank you?” 

“Anything for the newest member of our ranks…” The leopard grinned. His eyes flashed with fire. “I take it you’re as… enthusiastic about the news as I am?”

Remember what Mom said… “Yeah! Yeah it’s great news. Now that all the hellborn are being organized, well, we’ll be ready!” 

Flauros lifted his brow, and gave a nod. “So you have been informed! A high degree of trust I would not have expected. I was in fact hoping that you and I and your uncle could form a sort of… mutual partnership of sorts?” With a gesture he conjured his brass javelin, lifting the point before his face to inspect. “A little extra cooperation couldn’t hurt, especially since we’re facing an enemy as merciless as Heaven.”

Octavia felt her heart skip a beat. Heaven? “I—”

“Ohhhhh, that’s quite the proposal!” For the first time in her life, Octavia was happy to hear Andrealphus’ voice. His slender hands pulled her back onto her feet, close to him. “But while her titles and all their privileges are under my stewardship, it’s only proper that you ask me.”

Flauros just grinned. “Come, there’s no harm in a friendly, mutually beneficial exchange. Maybe I can offer a little more for you, Andrealphus…” He took a strong stride forward, clapped a thick handpaw on the bird’s shoulder, and brought his head down to whisper: “Maybe a few favors under the table… and I don’t mean money, Marquis.”

Octavia grimaced at the lewd implication, but she could see her uncle’s feathers bristle. “Oh… oh, Duke, you know how to drive a good bargain! How about I fuck you later—FIND you later!” He laughed it off as he led Octavia away, before bending in close. “You have to be careful with these other Goetia you know! Especially with people like the Duke. Don’t promise them anything!”

“I didn’t promise anything.”

“Don’t be so curt with me, you know very well what he wanted and he almost talked you into handing yourself over! To a duke!”

“Handing myself… you think he wanted to marry me?!” 

Uncle Andy wheeled around and was about to chastise her again when the ground shook. All eyes turned to the next stone butte over. A massive dark shadow sprouted from it, before splitting into wings. They lifted to either side… and now, Satan towered over both the Goetia and the imps down below. She knew her uncle would never admit it, but the way his grip tightened… she could tell he was cowed. 

“Esteemed members of the Ars Goetia…” he extended a hand to them, “thank you for accepting my invitation to this great moment. And to impkind…” Four gleaming yellow eyes looked down on them, “I’m sure you have questions…”

Loona felt her heart hammer as she and Stolas jostled through the streets of the Gluttony Ring. Here in its heart towers stretched upwards, filled with ads for food and drugs and Ozzie’s toys. Orange honeycomb filled the sky overhead and felt warm and close as ever, but just as always Loona felt out of place here. The swooping curves of the modern architecture and the various growths of exotic plants had clearly been lifted right out of the living world’s recent trends. They traced out the gardens and manors and apartments of countless hellhounds. So many homes, so many parties that she’d never been invited to…

Stolas’ voice shook her from those memories: “Loona? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. The reapers didn’t really hurt me or anything.” But she instinctively rubbed at her wrist, she felt the pinch around her muzzle where the cuffs had seized her…

“Well yes, that too. But I mean, most demons seem to be more comfortable visiting their native rings.”

“What makes you think I’m not comfortable, huh?” 

She turned to glare at him. Stolas paused, his eyes widening a bit… before he tilted his head, recapturing his poise. “Your tail hasn’t wagged once since we got here.”

“Sorry that I’m not exactly brimming with glee with all the shit going on.”

“We just need to think of something. At the moment the best I can think of is trying to get Beelzebub’s attention, but there’s no way she would pick us out of so many thousands of hellhounds—”

“Loona!” Bee caught them both by surprise, suddenly alighting before them. All four of her hands were filled with junk food. “Heyyy, good to see you! Long time no see! Need something to eat?”

Loona paused, before accepting a stick of cotton candy. The moment she took it Bee materialized another in her hand. Stolas declined. 

“You surrrre?”

“I’m quite positive, thank you though your Majesty.”

“Eh eh, I don’t do that shit here. I’ll accept ‘bitch’ or, if you really insist on being formal, ‘bad bitch.’”

“Ah, okay… bitch?”

Despite everything, Loona snorted at the way Stolas looked so uncomfortable addressing a Sin like that. Bee of course only grinned. “This isn’t the courtroom, okay? It’s my ring, my rules, and I don’t wanna deal with all that bullshit. Candy?” She paused to hand off food to another hellhound nearby. “Just trying to calm everyone’s nerves before the big announcement, you know? ‘A bite here or there, keeps the stress not… aware’, okay I fucked that up. Just have something to eat and chill okay?” 

“Thanks, that’s… really nice of you, and all.”

“It’s nothin’! Gotta say though, didn’t think you’d be here. Thought for sure you’d go to Wrath with your dad. Where is he anyway, drinking again?”

“No, uh, I was going to but…” Loona furrowed her brow. “The reapers separated us. They said I wasn’t allowed to go with him.” 

Bee’s smile vanished. “They what?!” 

“Yeah, they… you know, we all had to go to our native rings.”

“Why didn’t you tell them you were adopted by him though?”

“I did! But they insisted that…” Loona fell silent as Bee leaned closer and squinted her eyes. For a second she had no idea what she was doing… until she realized her snout would still be marked from where she’d been chained. 

“Oh for the love of…” She shoved all her food into Stolas’ arms, leapt into the air, searched around for a reaper. “Hey! You!” Bee gave a whistle and called him over. 

“Yes, your Majesty?”

“Can you explain to me why your guys roughed up one of my hellhounds for trying to stick with her dad? Huh?”

“Your Majesty, I know of no reason why they’d go out of their way to break up hellhounds on their way—”

“Her dad’s an imp, actually.” Loona watched Bee fold both sets of arms, fire in her eyes. 

“...Well then, your Majesty, we would have to separate them. The Goetic legions are divided very precisely by race, we must have order and—”

“Can it. When we get done here, you’re going to take her to the Wrath Ring and you’re keeping her assigned with her dad. Got it?”

“Yes your Majesty.” 

“And for Lucifer’s sake, I told you don’t…” She just shooed him away. “Just get it done, okay?” 

“Yes y—” The reaper fell quiet at her glare. “...Yes, bad bitch.” 

“That’s better!” Then she turned to Loona with a softer expression. “Sorry about that, these guys are such hard-asses. Problem solved.”

“Wow, uh…” Loona’s head spun. It had really been just that easy for her to deal with. “Yeah, thanks Bee.”

She gave a wink. “Aw it’s nothing. Uh, you might wanna find a spot to see things though, I’m gonna get started here.” 

With that she zipped up and away. Stolas watched after her, mouth hanging open. “I never would have thought that a Sin would do something like that.”

“What? Helping out the race they created?”

“She was so generous! And…” He looked down at the food she left in his arms. “I didn’t know Sins would be so benevolent!”

“Yeah. She’s real great.”

“Here, do you want some of this? I couldn’t possibly stomach all of it, or even most of it really! And she was just handing this out to everyone…”

“I get it! Bee’s super great and wonderful and everyone fucking loves her!” Loona grabbed everything out of Stolas’ arms and tossed it on the ground, “Can we just go find a spot so we can hear whatever the fuck’s got us all in a tizzy so we can maybe go home?”

She grabbed his hand and stormed forward. Stolas tried to keep pace, “You know, we didn’t have to waste all that food.”

“It’s the Gluttony Ring, we’ll get some more!” Getting back into the crowd, she worked her way through an intersection; all the sleek sports cars had stopped, surrounded by hellhounds looking up at the screens hanging off the sides of the skyscrapers. Whatever this was, it’d better be good. Loona managed to wedge herself and Stolas between a wolfish hellhound on one side, and a Dalmatian on the other who seemed to be staring at her…

“Hey… you were on TV, right? Your dad was working with that Goetia, who…” He trailed off when he spotted Stolas just behind her. “...Sorry.”

Stolas just sighed and shook his head, turning away. Loona similarly tried to ignore him. 

“Sorry, just recognized you! You were on TV and everything, and… and you guys would go to the living world, right? I always wanted to go! But we’re just not allowed, you know?”

She kept trying to ignore the Dalmatian.

“What’s it like up there? I think you’re like, one of the only hellhounds that goes up there all the time!”

“It’s full of shitty humans doing shitty things.” She pulled out her phone to hopefully get him to take a hint, which he did. It was only a short time afterwards when the screens all cut to the same image.

Beelzebub could be seen in the middle of the city’s central plaza with a microphone in her hand. “Alright, can you hear me? Am I coming through? Good! So, hey everyoooone! Sorry for the short notice, but it’s all gonna make sense right now. It’s good to see you all again though!” 

And there were cheers answering her back, including from the Dalmatian right next to them. Loona leaned away, one eye closing slightly in response.

“Alright alright, that’s enough. I have to get serious though, we have something of a bad news, good news situation here. The bad news is that, well… the world’s ending in a couple months.”

Millie gasped at what Satan said. Instinctively she grabbed at Moxxie, and he grabbed her too. She could tell he was just as shocked. Even Blitzø stood there, trying to process what they’d all just heard. Armageddon was finally happening. 

Satan leaned forward. Standing in the middle of the mountain, lit from beneath by boiling fire, his massive clawed fingers clutched at the rock. “That’s right. The Final Judgment has arrived. And the prophecies state that Heaven will finally destroy us, that the Kingdom of God will rule over Earth, and we will all perish.” He chuckled. “...But you don’t really give a fuck about what Heaven’s prophecies say, do you?”

Millie looked around. Thousands of imps watching Satan’s words, fear and terror on all their faces. Frightened whispers, asking what they should do, where they should hide. But at that last bit, there was curiosity…

“When I created you all those millennia ago, you were made to be dutiful and obedient. And outside of the odd exception, you have served well. Hell is strong and powerful because you have borne the burden on your backs. You didn’t think I wouldn’t reward you for your obedience, did you? And for your reward, I offer you… the living world. ”

All whispers were silenced. 

“If there’s one thing we know about Heaven, it’s that they are hypocrites! And that will be their own downfall. They so blindly follow their own words, they are so quick to deal out punishment, that they will ‘permit’ us free reign over Earth. And after seven weeks, they assume that we shall obediently roll over and die at their command. But on Earth we will prepare ourselves for the coming battle, scour the lands to seize what we can. Our finest minds will design a weapon that will catch Heaven unprepared. We will break the prophecy. We, the hellborn, will triumph over Heaven in the battle of Armageddon. And then… the mortal humans will be at our mercy…” 

Millie felt something stir inside her. She glanced at Mackie, their child, barely having had time to live. They needed a future for her. And at the same time… the idea of finally getting their collective hands on those humans was oh so sweet. Moxxie was clearly on the same page. And Blitzø’s eyes burned with fantasies of revenge…

“Since the dawn of Creation they have been pampered in the celestial hierarchy, looking down on us, sneering down on all of Hell, flaunting that they are the chosen favored children of Heaven. I know you can close your eyes, picture a sinner that treated you like dirt. Hold onto that fury, nurture it, stoke it to a fiery rage, for soon you will return it to humanity a thousand times over.

“They are weak, spineless, gutless. They will bow at the slightest threat. And for those few who’d fight back, what mortal weapon can compare to the magic of the Ars Goetia? What soldier is brave enough to outmatch the combined races of Hell? Without the protection of Heaven, humanity will crumple…”

“And when we take the surface,” Belphegor read out over a droning intercom to the baphomets through the Sloth Ring, “all of our work will be done. Heaven will lie in ruins, and with the humans beneath us, there will be no need to spend our time in toil.”

“It’s gonna be so fucking SICK!” Mammon called out from his stage, cackling. Thousands of sharks crowded close, eyes gleaming with the thoughts of the endless pillage they were about to enjoy. “Wanna go big, loot one of them big gold vaults? Or just grab some sad fuck and turn their pockets out for whatever they got? Whatever the FUCK you want!” 

“You guys are gonna be so good up there. I would know, I built you after all. And once we win, we’re gonna have the best fucking party! It’ll never fucking stop! Anything you want, it’ll be there! As much as you want, there’ll be even more! Come on guys, who’s ready for it!?” 

Bee threw back her head and howled. And despite any other misgiving she’d have, Loona couldn’t help but relish the idea of finally not being on the bottom rung of society. She joined in the howl, every other hellhound did the same

Stolas was silent beside her. If his face wasn’t already white from his feathers, it’d be pale from fright. 

“Come on, I can’t hear you guys!” Another howl...

“Those fucking humans have had it too good for too long, haven’t they?!” Leviathan’s heads alternated sentences as she spat the words over the crowd of possessors. “They have been made soft under Heaven’s protection. How many thousands of second chances have they had, when the hellborn don’t even deserve one? This will be OUR justice now!”

“And, uh…”

Asmodeus stood on his balcony, looking over the incubi and succubi on the floor of his factory, glancing up at the screen that he knew thousands more were watching. He rubbed the back of his neck. The way they were looking up at him, he knew they could tell something was wrong with his words. Fuck, he was blowing this…

He heard Fizzarolli’s legs extending beside him, felt his hand on his shoulder. They exchanged a look. Those eyes… Asmodeus sighed, before pressing on. 

“...When we’re on the surface, we’re going to do everything we can to get ready. Because if we’re not, there’s no second chances. Heaven will destroy us and everything we have. That is our most important goal, making sure that we will live past the end of the world.”

“That is all I ask of you,” Satan began to rise up even higher. “Defeat the forces of Heaven. Win the battle for Creation. That is the last thing I will ever ask of impkind. And after you achieve that… you will have everything you ever wanted.” 

She couldn’t help it, Millie fantasized about it. Endless target practice, an entire wide open world to do whatever she wanted in, whatever they wanted! 

“Humanity, groveling at your feet. Every one of their billions of souls for you to command. You will ravage their cities, burn their homes, grind them under your boots. And then we will pour into the gates of Heaven…” Satan lifted his hand, “And at long last, we will rule Creation! We will write the future of every soul on Earth and every star in the sky. And you…”  He clenched his fist before the faux moon hanging in their sky, “shall feast in the halls of Paradise!” 

Millie roared along with millions of imps, raising her fist, Moxie cheering along with her. Blitzø threw both hands into the air and howled. Their voices echoed off every mountain in Wrath, filling the fake sky above them, as Satan lifted his wings and cast his long shadow across the crowd… and over the Goetias, themselves also cheering. 

Octavia watched her mother cackle, her uncle’s eyes were fill with sadistic schemes. Flauros thrust his spear into the starry night sky. The only one not cheering was Octavia herself, her mouth hanging open, heart hammering. 

Hell was going to war. 

Chapter Text

Fizzarolli pressed his head against the heavy door of the royal court, straining to hear inside. Ozzie was meeting with the other Sins, and from what he could gather they were having a very intense debate on who would get what after the invasion. 

“...already taking so much shit in Asia, you’re really gonna bring this up again?!” That was Mammon’s voice.

“Why should I not take it?” Satan’s distinctive growl. “It is called Sin City! It is only fitting that I am its lord and master!”

“Yeah, see…” Bee’s voice now, “...that’s exactly the kind of attitude that makes me worried you’re just gonna ruin it. The whole ‘enslave the mortals’ thing will kill the vibe.” 

“That is ridiculous. And Mammon, you have no right to criticize me, after you ‘called dibs’ on the wealthiest city on the planet!”

“Not my fault you were too slow! Gonna tear it the FUCK! UP! In DUBAI!” He cackled, before Bee cut in again. 

“Look, I still think it’s a good idea for Ozzie to take that city. You can still have all the other shit around there! Just let him have that little bit, he knows how to put on a…”

Fizzarolli sighed and turned, now flopping back against the door. He looked up at the grand arches rising above him in this infernal palace. People passed back and forth in front of him. Lots of grins, lots of excitement, even among the succubi and incubi. There went a shark with a box of grenades. A pair of hellhounds admiring the blades they’d been handed. A group of imps rushing past—

Wait a second. 

He started following Blitzø, Millie and Moxxie as they rounded a corner out of sight. Blitzø called out, “LOONY!”

Fizzarolli caught up just in time to see him practically leaping into Loona’s arms, prompting her to get on one knee to reach him more easily. 

“Oh are you okay? Did they hurt you? Does Daddy need to kill a motherfucker?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” Even though she winced away from his aggressive kissing, it was clear that she welcomed her father’s affection. Stolas was standing behind her, looking the worse for wear after being stripped of his titles. Seeing them all together, something suddenly occurred to Fizzarolli…

“Blitzø!”

He immediately snapped, “Fuck off we’re having a sweet emotional moment!”

The others’ eyes did begin turning his way though. “You guys all got put together?”

“Yeah, now we did. They took Loony away and I’m gonna fucking strangle those Reapers the next time I see ‘em!”

“Which Goetia are you with?”

“I told you you’re killing the fucking vibe!” But he finally let go of Loona to face him, folding his arms, giving a smirk. “Some asshole named Flauros, gonna be fucking shit up in Europe! It’s gonna be awesome!”

Even he’d gotten into it. Incredible really, for years Fizzarolli had cursed Blitzø’s very existence. Now his mind scrambled for the right words to save him from the front line’s carnage. “You know, if you wanted… you actually belong with Ozzie’s share of the hellborn.”

“What, why?”

Fizzarolli pointed down at his cuffs. “The Asmodean crystal, you’re on his books technically. You don’t even need to answer to a Goetia, you and your whole team could report directly to Ozzie.”

“Huh. I mean, do I have to? Mox was already excited to visit Australia, apparently there’s some music shit he cares about there.”

“It’s Austria. ”

“That’s what I fucking said Mox!”

Fizzarolli looked them over… then shrugged, slipping his hands into his trouser pockets. “I mean, fine, suit yourself. Was just hopin’ for a bit of company in Vegas…”

“Whoa whoa whoa wait, LAS Vegas?! You’re going to fucking Vegas?!”

Got him.

Sera closed her eyes. The pristine walls of the tabernacle around her glistened with an unearthly pure white. Seats were arranged before a raised dais, and in its center shone down a pure column of light. 

The presence of God Himself. 

Present, yes, but silent as ever. For all the prayers offered here in this holiest of holy places, He had grown only more brief over the centuries. Quiet for longer and longer, and when He spoke fewer and fewer words. Sera bowed her head and prayed, reciting the words she knew, but even she couldn’t help but to let her mind wander, back to the very beginning of Creation, once again looking for anything she could have done differently…

It had been so long ago. Sera could still remember hearing the swishing of grass as she weaved between the trees of Eden. And she’d heard his voice, “Yeah, that’ll mix things up a bit! Oh who’s a cute little guy, you are, yes you are!”

“Lucifer?”

Sera emerged from the brush and made her brother jump. He was clutching a creature under his arm, red eyes wide… before sighing. “Sera, I told you not to sneak up on me like that!”

“I apologize,” she smiled. “You missed choir again today, Father asked me to come looking for you.”

At that Lucifer rolled his eyes and groaned. “Right, that was today. Sorry, it’s just hard to tell time apart now. The sunrise and sunset thing’s throwing me off. When is He gonna get around to naming the days? That’ll make things easier for us.”

“I think He wanted the humans to name them.” She tilted her head. “What is that?”

“Oh! This little guy,” Lucifer held out the critter, cleared his throat. “This is going to blow everyone’s minds, okay? So the humans already named all the animals, and I think they’re starting to get bored. So! Tail of a beaver, bill of a duck. It’s a mammal, but it lays eggs. It sweats milk. And! Just to keep things interesting, venomous barbs on its hind feet!” Right on cue the creature kicked at him. Lucifer yelped more out of surprise than genuine pain, of course the barb didn’t hurt him. He looked down at it in betrayal, before picking it back up again. “No no no, you don’t poison Daddy, okay?”

Sera couldn’t help but smile. “It’s really great to watch you work Lucifer. You have such an… interesting perspective on everything.” 

He shot back a knowing look, he could tell there was a second meaning to her words. “Somebody here has to.” Lucifer hugged the creature closer to his chest though. Sera hated having to do this. “Come on, lighten up, please.”

“Lucifer. You know the rules. We can sculpt the world as we please, but true creation? Only Father’s allowed to do that.”

“I didn’t create him! I just combined other animals together that Father made, that’s it!”

“It’s… it’s a little odd though. We’ve been very carefully balancing ecosystems all over the planet, and something this… unique, it could upset that balance.”

“I thought of that! This thing eats shrimp and clams and worms, it won’t bother anything. Come on,” he gestured out over the valley nearby, visibly annoyed, “you guys made, what, fifty thousand kinds of beetles? Let me have a fun thing here for once.”

Sera shook her head. This was a pattern with him. He went off on his own so often, coming up with wild ideas and executing them without even asking. Mostly they were harmless, but when his saurian race of dragons got out of hand Father had needed to basically restart the entire landscape. That’d gotten Lucifer his first real scolding. Since then the other angels had seen fit to gossip about his transgressions behind his back. And it was a shame because Lucifer was clearly just so passionate about everything going on with Creation…

“Sera?” He spoke in a small squeaky voice, holding up his new creature to pantomime. “If you let me live in Creation, I promise I’ll be a very very good animal. I’ll be nice, I won’t even poison anyone. I super duper promise!”

That got a laugh out of her. “Okay. Okay, let me see it…” Sera accepted the baby creature. She had to admit, it was in fact very cute, once she got past the weird medley of features. “Know what… I think we can find a place for him in Creation.”

“Really?! Oh thank you, thank you thank you Sera! Come here!” And he flew up a few feet to give her a hug. Admittedly, it was nice to have one sibling who was more open with their emotions. “Okay, you take care of him, I’m gonna go try and make up choir, that good?”

He was already flying away before she could answer him. Sera just shook her head in amusement. “Yes, that’s very good…” How could she have known then how far he would push things…

“Sera.”

Sera’s mind snapped back to the present as she opened her eyes. Lute had come up behind her. “Yes Commander?”

“The ceremony is starting soon. We should be there.”

“Thank you.” It could be so easy to lose track of time in here. Sera rose from her seat, bowed to the dais, and then followed Lute towards the side of the tabernacle. The Exorcists’ new commander had her regenerating arm in a sling. “Everything is prepared for the assumption of the righteous souls.”

Lute snorted. “Yeah, all two dozen of them.” 

“Actually there are about three dozen million marked for entry,” Sera didn’t look at her as they walked together. “And you and the other Exorcists will be most pleased to welcome them to Heaven.”

“...Of course, your Highness. I apologize.” 

“You would do well to remember that we serve the chosen children of God. This is not a punishment we are handing down upon Earth. This is a gift we are giving to them, a final chance to reckon with their sins and the restoration of Father’s kingdom. It is not meant to be sport for the Exorcists.”

“Of course your Highness. I would never make light of the sacred duties I perform for Heaven.”

Sera let the silence answer for her first. “Is your arm healing alright?”

Lute’s wounded arm shifted a bit in her sling. The great part about being a divine being in a divine realm was that medical miracles were incredibly easy to conjure up. But even with that, losing an entire arm took time to recover. If only she and Adam hadn’t gotten cocky… “...I don’t want to hear any more lectures, we have important sh—” She caught herself, “...important stuff to deal with.”

So forward. All the confidence of someone who knew she was irreplaceable. Adam’s death had taken a toll on Lute in many ways, but what Sera noticed most of all was how it had stolen away her courtesy. “As you wish.”

Within minutes, they reached the Hall of Apocalypse.

Angels flanked the walkway down the middle in their full unmasked forms: wings, bands, eyes around their edges. Around them was a large crowd of the saved, human souls who’d earned their way to Heaven. They sported every appearance from modern haircuts and suits to ancient beards and robes. All of their eyes filled with an intense eagerness. At the end of the hall was an immaculate white altar, and upon it a shimmering scroll. Three silvery ribbons with red waxy seals wrapped around one end of it; four more ribbons laid under the paper towards the other end.

Sera swept forward, her eyes fixated on the next seal in line. All eyes focused on her. She took a deep breath, and produced a golden blade in her hand. “Heavenly Father, with the breaking of this seal, we honor and fulfill Your word. The souls of those who served You faithfully grow eager for justice and redress. Their wait grows short, and their anticipation grows great.”

Lute stepped forward, and recited her line: “How long, Sovereign Lord, holy and true, until you judge the inhabitants of the Earth…” Her wounded arm shifted again, “...and avenge our blood?”

The knife slipped underneath the ribbon, and Sera pressed her fingers against the seal. “As it is written, Heavenly Father, the veil of the divine shall be lifted from Earth. The tribulations of St. John’s revelation shall be unleashed. Your will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven. For the Kingdom, the power, and the glory are Yours, now and for ever. Amen.”

The last word echoed from all others. Sera brought the blade up. 

The seal snapped.

Pam hit her brakes as the man cut into the street in front of her. “JESUS FUCK! ASSHOLE!” 

“Watch where you’re driving, stupid bitch!”

“Oh fuck off!” She flipped him off, and he returned the gesture. Pam shook her head and scowled… before remembering that she was right behind a bright yellow schoolbus. A bunch of kids were looking out the back windows at her.

Well congrats kids, your first lesson today is that people fucking suck. 

She flipped the radio on for something, anything to calm her nerves. “—re-elected Jackson Shaw as their governor just last week, but there’s reports that his campaign may have engaged in—” 

“Oh fuck that,” Pam turned it back off, then stared at the time on her dashboard. Fuck it. She pulled out her phone with a huff and dialed, waiting for it to be picked up. “Hannah? Yeah, listen, I’m gonna be late.” 

“What? You’re supposed to meet with Sister Valerie in fifteen minutes!”

“Don’t take that tone with me! Just cancel it, I wasn’t going to give her the money anyways.”

“...But she’s with Mother of Mercy? The orphan’s hospital?”

“Oh stop whining Hannah, be a good intern and learn: we’re not running a fucking charity.”

“We literally are.”

“Yeah well my brother needs the money more anyways, go tell Sister Valley that she can tell those kids to pick themselves up by the… boot straps…”

Hannah’s reply warbled into strange distorted static, but Pam had stopped paying attention, distracted by the flash of light from inside the bus. What the hell, all the kids had pulled away from the windows. She watched as the bus kept sitting still. Then… an adult man, must be the driver, coming up to the rear window. His face was pale and panicked.

“Shit. Hannah, if you can hear me, just cancel it. If she cries, call the police and tell them she’s trespassing. Just got even more delayed.” She hung up, cursing whatever kind of shit the kids had pulled in front of her. And she could hear a massive truck behind her now, she couldn’t wait for him to start blaring on his horn, must be up on her bumper the way her car was shaking.

Pam checked her rearview. There was no truck. 

Her eyes snapped to her water bottle. Ripples shook across its surface. Shit, was her car acting up?! She killed the engine… and still, the rumbling, the quivering on the water… and then the reddish glow coming from outside. 

Pam’s skin began to crawl now as she turned her gaze upwards. A massive red gash cut across the sky diagonally, an otherworldly hum shaking the entire city more and more. Opening her door Pam stepped out to get a clearer view. Behind her she could see the red line reach a sharp point and turn back to cut over downtown. Clouds churned around it. People were now stepping out of cafés and hotel lobbies and corner stores to crane their necks and look at the strange sight above their heads. 

A woman raced past her car on her foot. Pam watched her go, and then hurried to see where she’d come from, past the bus in front of her. There was a bright light in the middle of the avenue, and someone inside it. 

…No, some thing. 

There was a commotion, shouting, and Pam could barely make out what she was even looking at through the crowd of pedestrians and vehicles both. But then her attention again was yanked away by the sound of gunshots, not on the street… but coming from the subway station nearby. People were running out in terror. 

“Shit, shit shit shit,” it had to be a terrorist or something. Pam scrambled back into her car, turned the key. “Come on, come on…” Her engine roared to life again and she turned her steering wheel all the way to the side. Fuck pedestrians, she was taking the sidewalk and getting out of here! She kept watching the subway entrance, more people running out, and now they were collapsing, the lights of muzzle flashes, oh the gunmen were getting close! She had to get out of here right—

Something threw open the back door of the bus and landed on her windshield. Pam looked up and saw a demon staring right in at her.

Red skin. Horns. Dark clothing. Evil fanged grin. Yellow eyes. Tail lashing in the air and an animalistic hiss and a forked tongue—

“WHAT THE FUCK?! 

Pam hit the gas and the creature lost its grip, trying to grab on but rolling off to the side. She didn’t care about the gash carved into her doors from catching the corner of the bus. She didn’t care about the hot dog stand or trash bags exploding as she sped through them. She didn’t care about the gang of other demons also emerging from the alleyway right in front of her!

Pam shrieked as she barreled right through them. They just barely dove out of the way, some of them raised guns, she could see as she drove past and confirmed when her rear window got shot out! She blared her horn, “OUT OF THE WAY!” as she reached humans again! Then a blast as her rear tire got shot out! “No no no no no,” her rearview, the demons were definitely coming for her now. And through her windshield, down the street, the light had more of those things coming out! 

She bolted from her car now, heart hammering. Danny’s Bagels. Pam worked her way around the front of the car only for more gunfire to send her cowering on her knees. “What’s the matter dumb bitch?!” It was them. “Not so tough without your fuckin’ car, huh?!” 

More gunshots beside her! Pam shrieked and a hand grabbed her and she tried to fight it off—

“Get inside, now!”

Oh thank God it was an officer! A human police officer! He kept firing and forcing the demons to take cover just long enough to retreat inside the bagel shop. Pam collapsed as soon as she crossed the door. Two other officers were inside, along with a few other patrons and the two men behind the counter. “Oh my God, oh my God, what’s going on?!” 

The officer activated his radio, “This is Officer Adams, eleven-nine-nine emergency! I’m at the corner of 31st and Fifth, got multiple ten-thirty-twos! I-I can’t identify them! Need backup immediately!” But Pam could hear it, even as he shouted for help, dozens of other voices were also demanding backup, some of them screaming. “Come on, we gotta barricade the door!” 

Several of the others around Pam began to grab tables and slide them sideways against the door. One of the employees rushed forward, “I can try to close the grate real quick!”

“No no no they’re just around the corner! They’re— SHIT!” She couldn’t see from where she was curled up against the wall, but Pam cowered again as Adams raised his gun and fired, the two others as well, shattering the glass and prompting angry hisses from outside the door. “Fuck! Here, gimme the key, I’ll lock it, I’ll lock it, I’ll… wait, what the fuck is that!?” 

Pam heard a laugh from outside, the lights flickered suddenly, and Officer Adams spasmed. He stayed standing, still looking out the door, lowering his gun in both hands. 

“Adam?” One of his fellows drew close. “Adams, what is it?”

The man didn’t answer. That is, other than suddenly raising his pistol once more and shooting his partner right in the head.

“ADAMS WHAT ARE YOU—” 

The third officer was cut off by a bullet as well. Pam shrieked and tried to crawl past his feet, everyone in the bagel shop freshly panicked, as Adams turned to face them. His face was a resting neutral, tears flowing down from his eyes… glowing yellow eyes. A voice that wasn’t his own moved his mouth: “Now let’s not have you causing any more trouble for us…” The gun lifted to his own temple. 

Pam didn’t watch but she heard the splatter. She just fled for the kitchen, hearing the voices around her, “No you can’t be back here, it’s not safe!”

“For fuck’s sake Joey drop it! We gotta go before those things come back!”

But right on cue gunfire tore through the front door. More impacts above her head as Pam managed to just round the corner and hit the alleyway. Run, run away from the road, she could turn back and see more figures in the streets. And then a beam of something, some kind of energy! What was this, what the fuck was this?! 

An explosion ahead of her made her pause. At the corner of a tower a block away, visible far above the lowly rooftops around her, she could see the smoke trail of a rocket and the explosion where it’d struck its target. Or maybe that wasn’t its target, maybe that was just an accident.  Collateral damage, she suddenly mused to herself. Was this how it felt to be ‘collateral damage’ in a war? A war against whom, she didn’t know, but she had to find somewhere to hide because apparently they had no qualms about shooting innocent people like her, and who knew if there was anything worse that… they might…

Her thoughts trailed off at the sound of something wet tearing nearby. The sound of chewing. Slowly Pam turned her head… and in the shadows of the alleyway, she could see a trio of sharks, sharks with arms and legs like people, leather jackets and pants, and they were all crouched around a spreading pool of blood. A human arm lay just in view. Pam’s heart stopped.

No.

No. 

She must have made some kind of noise, as the shark closest to her sat back on his knees, turning to face her. Rings ran around his crazed pupils, and he grinned with the horrible sharp teeth expected of the species… and blood across them, across his face. “Second course already?” He chuckled. 

Another shriek. The world didn’t feel real any more. Pam’s vision blurred as she barrelled away to the next street over. Normally she’d hate running in her heels, or really running in general. None of that mattered now. Run, get away, escape the chaos. Except the chaos seemed to be unfolding all around her, where else could she get to? Back in the open now, weaving between the traffic, there had to be somewhere she could hide! Already she could see blood splattered against one storefront, a werewolf or something having caught some poor girl by the neck and thrashing her about mercilessly! Glass shattering above as a man in a suit was thrown out of his office window, screaming before cracking on the asphalt! No no no she had to turn back, Pam wheeled around.

Another red demon was right behind her, and he pounced.

The last Earthly sight Pam had was his wild yellow eyes. 

The last thing she heard was his leering voice, “Aw, spoiled the chase…” 

The last thing she felt was the knife slicing across her throat. 

…Except it wasn’t, she could feel herself falling, falling as the blackness of death gave way to a smoldering red glow. And she landed, hard, in another alleyway. “What?! What, what, what, where am I?!”

And she heard a laugh. Pam turned onto her back. She could see a red sky overhead, the decrepit state of the buildings around her, a strange moon in the sky with a pentagram on it… and gleaming eyes in the darkness, as some inhuman thing prowled closer! 

“Looks like the fresh meat’s finally dropping in. Welcome to Hell, let me show you how things work around here…” 

The sinner pounced.

“HURRY!” 

The Swiss Guard had quickly changed from their delightfully quaint ceremonial dress into their black outfits, and formed three rows just inside the entrance to St. Peter’s Basilica. The front row dropped to their stomach, the second knelt, the third stayed standing, and all trained their guns on the doors. A huddled mass of tourists and clergy gathered behind them, watching the doors with terror in their eyes. 

There were three knocks.

The colonel shouted, “No matter what comes through that door, do not give another inch! Remember your duty men! Remember your oath!”

Quiet. Stifled sobbing from a few folks behind them. 

The doors exploded inwards in a spray of dust and debris! Molten bronze speckled over the polished floor. The dust began to settle, as a figure stepped forward calmly. Six wings flared out from behind his back.

Over fifty automatic weapons loosed against him. Spent bullet casings clattered to the floor and more screams erupted from the crowd as gunfire echoed all through the cathedral, almost a purr of fire. 

The figure didn’t even break their pace. 

One by one the guardsmen ran out of bullets. Some of them started reloading. Others didn’t even try, all falling quiet as the strange figure approached. Blond hair, red and yellow eyes, the sharp white suit matching the alabaster skin. And his face, unimpressed. Bored almost. 

“Right, are we done with that now?” He spoke in perfect Italian. With a twirl of his fingers he produced a thin black walking stick as a scepter, gesturing with it. “If that’s your introduction out of the way, I’ll go next. Though I imagine you already know me, name’s—”

Footsteps came racing up behind him and then splash! An entire bowl of holy water splattered over him! He just closed his eyes silently. Then, slowly, he turned to glare at the terrified nun standing with the bowl in her hands. She had been so confident that would work… 

He just glared at her for a few moments. Then gave a sneering smile. “Lucifer. Nice to meet you too. Handshake?”

And he actually offered his hand to her. In response, she fainted away. He gave a chuckle, then snapped his fingers. “Go ahead, help her, I’m feeling nice.”

“We don’t take orders from you, Satan.” 

“Right, fuck, I’m getting ahead of myself. First of all, not Satan. That’s another guy actually. Yeah, sorry, your little book’s not as infallible as you thought. Second, I demand your total surrender and fealty, blah blah blah, I’d love to skip the formalities really.”

Lucifer could see it in their eyes, many of the young men were already eager to surrender. But the colonel, bless his heart, he was brave and courageous, still had the idea he’d be made a martyr and a saint. “Never. We will defend the house of God to our dying breath.” 

For a moment Lucifer considered it, looking back and forth around the room. He could do this the messy way, or do it the way that’ll save him trouble down the road… yeah, the image of the Swiss Guard turning tail would help a lot more. “So about that… let’s have a little chat. We got anyone important here?” He spotted some cardinals nearby, and he snapped his fingers for them to come closer. “I’ll get right to the point because I might be eternal, but I still value my time too highly to waste it arguing with you mortals. You think that if your god was here, he’d have let me just waltz right in? He’s not coming to save you, and you’re not going to save yourselves.”

He spotted someone still loading their rifle. Striding forward he grabbed their gun and pressed the barrel to his forehead. His fiery eyes looked right into theirs, and he had to admit it was fun to see the terror on the boy’s face.

“Go ahead. Pull the trigger. Show me how brass and lead have managed to outclass a seraph. I’d love to see it, could use a good laugh from my new subjects, one of the few uses I can think of for you.”

The young man quivered, quailed, collapsed backwards among his comrades to scoot away. Lucifer kept the gun in his hand and with a thought melted it into slag, letting it drip through his clawed fingers to the marble at his feet. His eyes drifted to the colonel again, and he could see the man’s resolve crumbling. 

“You’ve seen too many movies. Do you really believe I’ll turn into a groveling mess if you wave a crucifix at me? Say a prayer at me? Ruin my suit with holy water?” 

He glared again, and sure enough a couple of soldiers had gone over to check the fainted woman. Speaking of… his eyes scanned the crowd for a particularly frightened boy. 

“You.” The young man jumped as he was pointed out. Lucifer unbuttoned his jacket all the way, rolling his shoulders to peel off the garment and reveal his red striped vest. Then he tossed it at his selected lackey. “Make sure this isn’t damaged, I want it back by sundown.”

He struggled to speak, looking at the colonel, Lucifer, the holy imagery around him, Lucifer again. Finally, he lowered his eyes in shame, “Y-Yes sir.”

Once again he snapped his fingers, pointing for the exit. He let the man get a head start. “Now for the rest of you…” 

He took on a terrifying grin, rose into the air with his wings flared out, and threw a pair of fireballs that shattered the mosaics on the ceiling.

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY NEW PALACE!” 

Oh the way they screamed and scrambled and stampeded to get out of his way, it felt so good! He cackled as he swiped his hand and scorched the Latin prayers out of the walls, hurled more fireballs at the iconography in the golden frames, blasted the stained glass windows out to show the burning skies outside. And finally, he reached the papal throne. Just a wave of his hand and it exploded. Another wave, and sharp black stone broke through the flooring. Lucifer turned, sat himself down. Look at me, Peter, I’m in your chair, he couldn’t help but muse to himself. Here he was, sitting victorious inside the largest church on the planet, the strongest pillar of Christendom shattered before him!

But the fun was already fading away. 

Lucifer sat there, the grin growing weaker and weaker. He rested his face on one hand. “No, still too formal…” He tried shifting, lounging sideways across the stone armrests. “...No…” Sitting forward, no. Slouching back, hand resting on a scepter? No… 

With a sigh he stood again. One more dismissive wave of his hand, and the throne sank back into the ground. 

Lucifer stood there, hearing the wind rush through the broken windows and out the ruined doorway, the basilica scarred and littered with rubble. He stepped towards the exit again, despite the length of the church, his boots echoing every step even above the chaos in the rest of Rome. 

Chapter Text

“Admiral, General Miao’s on the line, we’re just waiting on word from Washington.”

In a long squat building on the outskirts of Mons, Belgium, Admiral Melody Barite paced back and forth through the command center. She’d already skipped dinner to rush this meeting. It’s not like the anxiety would let her eat anyways. Hell, she didn’t even know if it was entirely legal to be doing this. But she’d always been one to fix things first and ask questions later. It was an attitude that had gotten her this far, all the way from the Royal Navy to Supreme Allied Commander for NATO. She’d reviewed and tweaked and re-reviewed countless plans for any number of contingencies: Russia or China declaring war, Russia and China declaring war, Britain going rogue, the US going rogue. 

So it felt very strange to be taken off-guard for once.

Large screens across the distant wall showed news outlets from different countries, respective languages showing in the captions. Phone camera footage of chaos in the streets in Santiago; a helicopter watching inhuman monsters scramble up the side of the pyramids in Cairo, jeering and flipping off the camera crew; bizarre shark-like monsters beaching in Singapore in the darkness of night, already chasing the nearest people they could grab. Any pockets of armed resistance that had managed to pull together in the few hours since this incident started, all the fledgling counteroffensives from the units that could be raised nearby, had been blasted through by even more powerful beings…

“Admiral?” her secretary spoke up again. “Should we keep them waiting?” 

She took a moment to measure it… “Fuck it. We need to get this started.” Walking back to the camera setup, she tried to sort through the documents in her hands, hastily stuffing them into a binder to give at least some indication that this was a well-planned and well-assembled presentation. One by one the screens changed to the heads of men calling in from around the globe.

Okay, time to put those diplomacy lessons to good use. 

“Thank you for calling on such short notice. General Miao, Minister of Defense for the People’s Republic of China?” 

He nodded, sitting with a finely trim uniform and a terrible webcam in what was clearly not his usual office. 

“General Subramani, Acting Chief of the Army Staff of the Indian Army?”

A man with bronze skin gestured greetings, his face grim.

“General Aksanov, Deputy Chief of Staff for the Collective Security Treaty Organization?”

 A Russian man looked to the side off his screen, and she could hear a translator speaking to him. Then he replied, before the words were repeated back to her in English: “I do not want this to take long, there are many important things taking my attention right now.”

Oh he was going to be like this. Great. “I understand that. I’ve done my best to condense the information we have down as best as we can, and hopefully we can work together to solve this problem affecting all of our countries. Now, here we have—”

Miao’s translator cut her off, “Shouldn’t we wait for the American commander to join?”

“We have had… great difficulty in contacting anyone from the Pentagon. We’ve gotten visual confirmation that Washington DC has also been attacked. Given their close relationship in our alliance, whatever is discussed here will come back to them.”

Aksanov began speaking again. “I must say, it is very strange that you prioritize calling us over your own allies.”

“Well,” oh she wanted to bite back at him, “we are facing a very strange threat. And that can make for strange bedfellows.”

Barite listened to the translation on his end, and he gave a snort. He muttered to himself, “Speaking of bedfellows, it’s about time they gave the eye candy uniforms over there…” 

“Could you repeat that?” She answered back in perfect Russian. Yeah, look shocked you fucking pig. “Gentlemen, you’ve all seen the news by now. This is an enemy facing all of us. We need to cooperate and collaborate if we are going to win. Consider this,” she held up her binder, “a gesture of goodwill from NATO and her allies.”

With that she began, showing photographs one at a time:

“Approximately three hours ago, an unknown hostile force made a series of breaches across the Earth’s surface. Every breach has acted as an entry point for this hostile force to make landfall and begin a clear and unprovoked assault against whatever city, whatever country they’ve landed in.” 

She paused to let the translators catch up.

“We have catalogued a total of seventy-two incursions so far across the globe. In our own member states there’s eight in North America not counting the breach in Mexico City. On this side of the Atlantic we have forces in London, Paris, Madrid, Rome, and Istanbul. The overall pattern seems to be a focus on population centers, which tracks with a heavy concentration of breaches in both China and India. General Miao, if our intelligence is correct, you’re facing sixteen incursions just within your country alone?”

He nodded. “That is correct.”

“At the other extreme, we have a total of six incursions across the entire continent of South America. Targeting our population centers indicates both a strategic desire to quickly disrupt our fighting capabilities, and a high confidence in their own capabilities.” Melody pulled out another photograph now. “Speaking of, they do appear to be extremely formidable. The vast majority are armed with weapons similar to our own, firearms and blades, but a select few have some kind of technology that allows them to do everything from throwing fire to inducing freezing temperatures, without any visible equipment.”

Again a pause to let the translators catch up. At least all three men were leaning forward and paying attention. Sure it was the least she could ask for that they find an invasion of inhuman monsters from another dimension interesting, but she’d take it.

“So far these more powerful combatants appear distinct from the majority of the invaders, but there’s few unifying features between them. As for the bulk of the invading army, we are looking at anywhere from five to eight distinct species. All bipedal, but with features ranging from reptilian, to shark-like, to wolf-like,” With each description she pulled out a matching photograph. “Of particular note are these fish-like creatures. We’ve observed they possess a technology that can let them dematerialize, to effectively vanish. We’ve also received reports of them ‘possessing’ people in the field. Given the other abilities we’ve observed, it is possible they have some means of controlling the minds of nearby humans. Yes, General Subramani?”

He’d been holding up his hand to speak. “I appreciate there’s a great deal of uncertainty and fear right now. I just want to make sure that we do not start seeing the supernatural because of that fear. You describe abilities like teleportation, conjuring fire and ice, mind control. I want to say I appreciate you describing them as technologies we do not understand, and to highlight to the rest of the group here that we must follow in this approach.”

Melody nodded. Thank God, they might have a chance here. “Thank you, General. We need to keep level heads about this.”

“Admiral,” her secretary suddenly cut in, “we have the US president on the line.” 

She gave a sigh of relief. “Gentlemen, we just got news from Washington, we have contact with them. I hope you’ll bear with me if I have to repeat any information.” Melody turned to collect her next folder, she could see a screen on the distant wall change. “Mr. President, apologies for starting without you, I was just about to discuss more theories on the nature of the threat—”

“Is it not obvious?”

It was a grim aged voice that didn’t belong to the president. Or the Secretary of Defense, or Chief of Staff or anyone else she knew for that matter. Melody whipped around. On the screen was an old man with sharp blue eyes, white hair framing his head. She could have sworn she saw him in the news somewhere, somewhere she didn’t like. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve been introduced?”

“Jackson Shaw. Acting president of the United States of America.”

Wait, that’s right. “Governor Shaw. I… I hope you understand, even given the unusual circumstances we’re in, this is extremely irregular for a state governor to be representing the country.”

“These are unusual circumstances, yes. And if there were any alternative I would have taken it. But you’ll remember that the Hope’s Peak Mountain Complex is still in my state’s borders. And when my National Guard made contact here, I was informed there were many messages from your office that begged for a response, and at the same time there was no such response from the president or Congress or the cabinet. I don’t know if you’ve seen the news lately, Admiral, but the national government has been decapitated. I fear that may even be literal. ” 

Melody let him talk, but she could sense the condescension in his voice. Keep calm, this is not the time to let emotions get the better of you. Think strategically. “If you are the only representative we have from the United States, then I will share what we know. As long as you are on a secure channel.”

Shaw turned in his seat. Behind him, she could see a NORAD crest on the wall. “I’m calling you from the mountain now. If this device isn’t secure I don’t know one that is.”

“Very well…” She still didn’t feel quite right having him here instead of someone more official. But, again… desperate times, desperate measures. “I was just about to talk about possible origins of the invading force. At the moment the leading conjecture is an extraterrestrial origin, we have been poring over recent readings to see if we can find—”

“Extraterrestrial?” It was Shaw again. “Again, should it not be obvious, Admiral Barite? Or are you so desperate to not face the truth that you’ll grasp at whatever materialist theory soothes your soul?”

Oh she could tell what was coming. “Forgive me Governor, but I don’t see your point. I am working off of the best intelligence we’ve been able to gather from the field. Do you have your own theory on what the invaders are?” He was an American politician, she thought bitterly, of course he did.

“In between all the carnage on the TV, have you not seen the thousands of missing person reports today? For years, have you not seen the signs? Pandemic, war and terror across the globe, hunger starting to nip even at the heartland of the world’s richest nation. These are the harbingers of apocalypse… the End Times, as foretold by the disciples of Christ.”

Melody could see Miao and Subramani trying to hide that they were checking out already. Aksanov didn’t even make that effort, his lip curling in an amused smirk as he listened to his translator. When he began replying, even before the translation his mocking tone was clear, “A little push, and the Americans are already losing their minds!”

“None of you believe me. It’s okay Admiral, I know you don’t either. But let me play you something I saw, just before the call here. This was just on the news…”

He had pulled out his phone, and brought up a clip that had just been posted. The chyron read Bogotá, Colombia, and the news camera grew shakier before being dropped to the ground. One of the reptilian red creatures grabbed it and held it in his face with a wild grin, “¿Qué tal perras ? ¡Estoy en la tele! ¿¡Listos para irse a la mierda!?”

Shaw turned off the clip. “Did you hear that? That was Spanish.”

“Governor,” Melody was already rubbing at her temples, “if you’re about to insinuate some conspiracy with illegal immigrants then I’m going to have to cut you off here.”

“Not at all. If anything, my pastoral flock before my governorship has been welcoming to all peoples. I have nothing against Spanish, it’s a lovely language. A very human language…”

Melody stopped rubbing her head. Wait a second…

“Let me ask you Admiral, when has a conquering force ever burdened itself with learning the language of their new subjects, instead of imposing their own language?  Above Manhattan burns a scarlet pentagram. What are the chances that invaders from another world, or another dimension, would take the time to learn and use these symbols that are already loaded with meaning to us? Why would they use our symbolism and our tongues, unless they were also already familiar with them? They are not from another world, Admiral. They are from our world.”

The other generals had also started listening. Even Aksanov’s smirk had disappeared, and he was leaning forward.

“I realize that for those who’ve not followed their faith, I sound like a madman. But I implore you, don’t waste time daydreaming some convoluted theory when the simple reality can be seen from the photos in your hand. These are not aliens. They are demons.” Shaw’s eyes seemed to cut through the screen. “The denizens of Hell, walking now upon the Earth.”

She shook her head. No, that was ridiculous. Just the ramblings of the kind of overzealous nutjob that Americans loved electing.

…But was it any more ridiculous than the alternatives she was proposing?

“Mr. Shaw,” Subramani spoke up first. “I appreciate your perspective. But I was just saying before you arrived, we cannot jump to supernatural conclusions. That will lead to hysteria, it will lead to demoralization, and it doesn’t help us to explore and build countermeasures.”

“General,” Shaw’s voice never raised, stayed at once raspy and authoritative, “please take no offense, but how many incursions is India facing?”

“...What does this have to do with anything?”

“Just a simple question, please.”

Subramani was visibly put off by the question. “...Nine. We have nine confirmed breaches on Indian soil.”

“Nine in India. Sixteen in China. Is it coincidence that those countries who rejected the God of Abraham are facing such an intense concentration of Hell’s soldiers?”

Oh Melody could see Subramani’s jaw drop, his rage lighting off. Miao similarly scowled. She interrupted, “Shaw this is not the time and place to be talking about this! If we’re going to stand any chance we need to unite and come together, and divisive rhetoric isn’t going to help that.”

Again, he stayed calm, maddeningly so at this point. “This is precisely the time and place to be talking about this. This is a sickness as much as it is a war. And the path to victory lies in repentance. All of us have failed the test and been damned. We must repent of our sins, purify our souls, lest we face the Final Judgment and be damned to hellfire. We must turn to the true God and carry out His word. That,” he emphasized, “is how we will win.”

Melody glared up at him. “Governor, if what you say is true—”

“It is.”

Oh she was gonna love shutting him up here. “If what you say is true, then you have been damned as well. Because you’re also still here. So I don’t care what you have to say about my soul. Disconnect him, we’ll wait for a real contact from the US.”

“Admiral, you are making a mistake—”

Those eyes disappeared from the screen.

“...Now, as I was saying gentlemen,” and Melody continued on with her prepared remarks, putting forward the idea that there was some kind of extraterrestrial infiltration à la Stargate. She put aside Shaw’s prescription of repentance, and the way he was so willing to insult critical allies. 

And yet, in the back of her mind, she couldn’t fully dismiss the idea that maybe… just on the idea that they were facing Hell itself, maybe on that question… he was correct. 

She could tell the others felt the same. 

In the same way, her words tormented Shaw. He sat there, turned away from the desk, head in his hand. As much as he could tell, he had lived a righteous life. Whatever failings he’d had, whatever temptations he’d failed to resist, he had tried to outweigh them with his drive to support the kingdom of God. 

Those works were apparently not enough.

Where had he gone wrong? What failing had been the breaking point? What sin could he have committed that had left him behind in the Rapture? Had he not led his flock to pure thoughts and deeds? Had he not as governor crusaded to cleanse society of its moral failings? Where had he gone wrong?

“Governor?” He looked up. “The agents are here.”

“Very good. I’ll come to meet them.”

He couldn’t stew in his failures right now. He had to prove himself worthy. That’s all this was, a final proof of determination and righteousness. Right now, his people needed him and his leadership. America needed him. 

And he needed people who knew what was going on. 

The complex he was in had been built beneath the living stone of Hope’s Peak. Able to withstand all but the most direct hit from a fusion bomb, Hope’s Peak had been openly used for decades as a nerve center for military command in the western half of the country… and secretly used for any experiments that might need shielding beneath yards and yards of heavy stone. Agencies and teams had flitted in and out over the years, pushing the boundaries of what was possible. And one of those agencies happened to be very relevant right now…

Two agents greeted him on a nearby metal balcony, one a lighter-skinned man, another a darker-skinned woman, both in suits. The first sprang forward to take his hand, “Mr. Shaw! It is an honor to finally be meeting you!”

And then the second grabbed his hand, “You’ve been a big supporter of our agency! And a very, very generous funder!”

He could see the desperate smiles on their faces and he withdrew his hands, holding them up warmly. “Please. There’s no need to play the patronage game. Your work here is important and I don’t want us to waste time with pleasantries.”

“Really? Oh thank FUCK!” Both of them relaxed. Shaw could tell they’d been smiling until it hurt. “Anyways, Agent One!”

“And Agent Two!”

“Reporting for duty!” they said at once. 

Shaw nodded with a wry smile. “Okay, one request. Mind your language please…” Then he stepped past, looking up at the device before them. “So tell me about this, then?”

The Department of Heavenly, Occult, and Ritualistic Knowledge and Sciences had been in rough straits the past couple years, since an incident had wiped out most of the staffed agents. There’d been a partisan effort to shutter the department entirely, but Shaw had pulled some strings with a local representative and kept these vital preparations going. So many people said they believed that God existed, and yet so few acknowledged they must therefore believe that the Devil existed too. And the Devil had to be opposed on every front. That’s where DHORKS’ research would prove oh so valuable, like the portal that Shaw now stood before.

“Oh, this bad boy…” Agent One leaned on the console like he was showing off a sportscar. “Yeah, this is nothing. Just a backdoor right into the topmost level of Hell itself! And we’ve even been improving it! It’s now actually wide enough for a fully grown adult to walk through!” 

“We ran a mission through it to the other side!” Agent Two chimed in. 

Shaw nodded, impressed. “Who ran the mission?”

“Uh… we don’t need to talk about that.”

The governor whipped his head around at the squeaky voice. Then he did a double-take and startled back. “What are those?”

Three infantile winged creatures had come up behind them, and they recoiled when he did. The leader had the look of a pudgy baby. He quickly recomposed himself and saluted. “Uh… CHERUB sir! Cherubim of Heaven! Here to help support the cause of goodness! Sir!”

“Cherubim? Angels?” They nodded back at him. He kept staring… then shook his head, “Well, any help we can get is welcome...”

Agent Two got his attention, pointing to a nearby monitor. “We’ve had to scale back a lot of projects, our Episcopal Echelon program had over ten thousand armed clergy, but uh… well, most of them wanted to get paid. And those left over turned out to be… on the run…”

“SO MANY OF THEM were fucking groomers!” 

Agent One gave a grunt of disgust, and Shaw shook his head in agreement, choosing to ignore the use of foul language. “We don’t need them anyways. Now more than ever we need a single united movement for the glory of God. And that will require a single vision. Your tools and knowledge will be valuable, yes, but they are just that. Tools. We will not win this war with flashy gadgets. This war must be won on our knees, with utter devotion on our lips, and the will in our hearts to continue the work of the Lord. We must act quickly. The National Guard are already working on evacuating people to safety here. This…” 

He turned about, taking it all in.

“This is where the Kingdom of God shall begin.”

Chapter Text

With a final kick, Blitzø broke open the door to the C-suite offices. The rest of the team flanked him. Shades cast the room into darkness, but he could still make out the dipshits in their fancy suits cowering under the table in the middle of the entrance here. 

HIs boots hit the carpet as he strode forward. Mmmmm… he didn’t really feel like doing a lot of clean-up here, and he had something more fun to try anyway. He couldn’t help but give a smirk, and he gestured to the others to stand aside. Then Blitzø took a deep breath:

“Alright shitbags, building’s under new management! Get the FUCK out!”

And he emptied the magazine of his gun into the ceiling, cackling as he watched a dozen humans go racing out the door in terror. Moxxie and Millie watched with wide grins, and Loona playfully growled at one man as he tried to slip past. Stolas was the only one who tried to get out their way. 

Blitzø finally ran out of bullets, and the office quieted. Stepping over to a window he grabbed the curtains and yanked them open. The churning cloud cover smoldered red, accented by the pentagram-marked bubble that now filled the valley. From this third floor view they could look south over the houses across the street, and past them to the Las Vegas Strip. Small trails of smoke curled between the casinos and hotels. There was the faint distant sound of a fire truck or ambulance or whatever the fuck it was. Either some human still trying to actually answer an emergency, or a demon having a joyride. 

Speaking of, he heard a jingle in one of the offices. “Oops,” Loona chuckled, “someone forgot to grab their car keys on the way out.” She opened the window inside to look down into the parking lot, and clicked. A car chirped back at her. Her grin fell. “Great, one of those fuckass grey box trucks…”

With a sigh she tossed it away, while Moxxie and Millie were scoping out a couple of rooms nearby. Millie was carrying Mackie while Moxxie darted from one door, in the other, then back into the common space. He tried to frame the view between his fingers. “We can put the crib here, so we can both be near her while letting her have a little bit of time on her own, and she can see everyone coming through. Yeah, and then look, this bit of wall in here, we can use this for our gunrack, and then we can keep the blades in there, and it’ll be like our little personal offices.”

Millie nodded, “Hmmm… I guess we could do that.” 

“What’s the matter? You don’t like it?”

She set a hand on his shoulder, leaned her face close to his. “Well, I was kinda hopin’ we could have a private office, together.” Moxxie gave a playful purring growl, the pair bumped foreheads…

“Who the fuck said you were getting a private office, huh?!” Blitzø couldn’t help himself. “Maybe I’m gonna make that a horse room or something! And that one’s gonna be a massage parlor! Shit, actually that might be nice. Maybe get a human in there too, they got nice big meaty hands… Whatever, point is, it’s still my fucking building ‘cause I fucking say so!”

Moxxie just stared back, completely unamused. Then he glanced at his daughter, “See that? What your uncle’s doing right now? That’s called ‘being a dick.’” 

“Oh fuck you!” But he was still grinning as he went for the CEO’s old office. The nametag on the door said… oh who gave a shit? Without even bothering to read it, Blitzø flicked out a knife and scraped it off in one stroke as he waltzed inside. One of those minimalist offices that were in fashion the past couple decades, with expensive but empty shelves, some stupid trophies from conferences nobody gave a shit about, a sleek desk and a two-monitor computer. Again the blinds had been drawn down, and he yanked them back up, not caring that they got lopsided and tangled. He’d get someone to fix that later. 

Stolas ducked his head to fit through the door as the imp leapt into the chair. “Not to imply anything about where we’ve been the past year, but… this place is much nicer.”

“Oh it’s fucking awesome here! ‘Specially once it’s got a demon’s touch on it.” Blitzø folded his arms behind his head and kicked up both boots on the desk, toppling over a file folder rack. Sharp red fingers plucked a quote-a-day calendar off the desk. “Look at this shit. ‘November 13: To handle yourself, use your head; to handle others, use your heart,’ Christ on a stick.” He threw it aside in disgust. “Humans can’t even sin right. ‘Look at me, I'm a fucking millionaire, I only eat one meal a day and keep a bunch of feel-good bullshit on the desk.’ Pa-the-tic!”

Yeah, that managed to draw a laugh out of Stolas.

“What’s the matter? You not having fun?”

“Oh, no! Not that! It’s just… you know how I am. Lots of crowds lately, it can all be so overwhelming. Plus, you know… only a month and a half away from the end of the world, and Heaven coming to kill us all. Again, you know how I am, just worried about that…”

Blitzø watched as he looked out the glass to the ransacked city. The imp tilted his head… and then laughed. “Oh fuck that noise! Satan said the Goetia are workin’ on something for that! Didn’t he?”

“...He did.”

“Soooo, either it works and we got nothing to worry about… or it doesn’t work and we can’t do shit about it, so there’s nothing to worry about! Stolas,” the owl turned to look at him, “Earth is ours. And we’re in Vegas!”

It was funny on at least some level. In the bedroom, Stolas was the most depraved little fucker he’d ever met. Those wild red eyes would beg for whatever kinky abuse Blitzø could dream up. But the moment the clothes went back on, he became such a different person. And right now, those red eyes brimmed with secret thoughts and layers of calculation. He could tell Stolas had a lot of stuff on his mind… and he could almost certainly guess what one of them was. 

With all the upheaval, could he somehow get through to Octavia again? With the new countdown placed on their lives, would he have the time to do so?

They heard the sound of roaring engines far in the sky. Stolas and Blitzø looked out the window again. A pair of fighter jets raced along the edge of the dome. Each tried to fire a missile that burst against its surface. There was a ripple of energy, but no luck. Of course not. Blitzø’s grin widened. Yeah, these little fuckers had no idea what they were dealing with. They were protected here… they totally had time.

“Soooooo…” 

He got Stolas’ attention again. The bird looked away… then rubbed the back of his neck, gave a small smile. “I suppose… it wouldn’t hurt to enjoy just one day. We are in Sin City after all… what, ah, what should we do?”

Blitzø narrowed his eyes. “Whatever we fucking want.”

11:24 AM 

Millie laid on Moxxie’s lap as he drew his bow across the violin strings. He rested against the head of the gondola, and she could see stars in his eyes as he sang: “Aprimi il petto e vedrai scritto in core: Amarilli, Amarilli, Amarilli è il mio amore…” Then he snickered. “Should tweak that a bit, instead of Amarilli, ‘oh my Millie’? But might be too many hard consonants there…”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” she grinned up. 

He bent his neck down for a kiss… then playful annoyance on his face, as he looked over his shoulder. “Hey! What are you staring at?!”

The human gondolier, already trembling, jumped at the imp snapping. “N-Nothing sir! Wasn’t staring!”

“Really? Well why not?! Never seen two beautiful people in love before!?” Moxxie cackled. “C’mon, take us round again!”

The pair kept lazily drifting through the canals of the Venetian shops as chaos unfolded to either side. Terrified human receptionists cowered behind their counters to watch demons crowd into their stores and just start grabbing stuff off the shelves. Loona watched all of this with amusement as she sat in some bougie rare books store, Mackie on the table in front of her, legs splayed out as she scribbled in a tome with a five digit price tag. 

Babysitting duty wasn’t that bad in a place like this. 

Across the way, Blitzø raced into a shop with Stolas close behind him and raised his arms, “C’mon, up! Up, I wanna see!”

Stolas obliged him, and Blitzø now knelt on the glass separating him from timepieces that cost as much as a house payment. Gaudy gold and diamonds sparkled beneath his fingertips.

“Hey dipshit!” He snapped his fingers at a nearby human dressed in a tuxedo and cowering on the floor. “I’ll take these!”

“Uh… oh, well, ah… h-how will you be paying?”

Oh Blitzø loved seeing the nervous smile on the man’s face — and seeing it vanish as he sneered back. “I said, I’ll take it.” And he smashed his fist through the glass. “C’mon Stolas, grab somethin’!”

12:37 PM

“Ah! Stop! Please, that’s everything! FUCK!”  A pair of sharks grinned as they held a suited man by the ankles and shook him out right on the sidewalk, phone and wallet and cards falling from his pockets. 

Just nearby, Moxxie sat with Mackie on his lap, leaning into Millie, looking out at a massive pool of dancing fountains. “Look at the water! Isn’t that so cool Mackie?!” The infant responded by reaching out as far as she could, trying to grasp at the water yards away. “You like the water, huh? Hmmm, wasn’t there a lazy river or something at the end of the strip?”

“I dunno,” Millie thought out loud, “wanna do some stuff closer here first? Otherwise we’ll be on our feet a lot…”

“They got the bus! It’ll be fine! Besides, we got alllll day, and then some.”

The sharks dumped the human on the concrete, scrabbling for their loot and racing off. Shaking sobs as the man curled up and trembled…

And then a blast blew a hole in the casino’s facade! The three imps just casually looked up to find fabric, upholstery, and lumber raining down around them, as well as painted canvases vandalized with crude graffiti. In the smoking gash above, Blitzø cackled.

“...I gotta admit, it’s nice to see him happy for once.”

1:13 PM

“And you guys just fucking serve that?! Not even since we got here, you just normally have it?!”

Loona stared slack-jawed as the human behind the counter practically poured sweat from every pore on his body. “...Yes?”

“A hundred fifty dollar burger with gold and wagyu?!” Then she paused. “What the fuck is wagyu beef?”

The man’s face paled, and he shook his head. “...I-I don’t know…”

“...Oh fuck it, gimme one!” She slammed her hands on the counter, tail wagging excitedly at the way it made him jump.  Man it felt so fucking good to scare them like that! The humans in the back were already scrambling to handle the mad rush…

“Alright, next in line, keep it moving,” a shirtless incubus waved her aside. “Let them work.”

“FUCK!”

That was her dad, currently standing on the stool at a blackjack table and hunching over the board. He had the dealer by the shirt collar, yanking her forward. 

“The deck’s fucking rigged! I know it!”

“Sir! Sir please, I swear it’s a good deck! I wouldn’t rig the game!”

“You wouldn’t huh? So you’re saying you can?”

“No! No sir! Please!”

Stolas was leaning over the table beside him, and set a hand on his shoulder. “Come Blitzø, let’s not spoil our fun by killing the dealer…” 

The imp snarled at him… but released the human, and sank back down onto his seat. Claws tapped the table before pushing forward a stack of chips. “Deal me in.” 

The cards were passed around. Blitzø’s tail lashed sharply. 

“Hit me.” 

The dealer gulped. With trembling fingers she set a card down. Okay, he didn’t bust. Then she revealed her own card…

“FINALLY!” He grabbed the chips piled in front of her, dragging them over. “Alright, let’s fucking go again!”

2:31 PM

“What’s the matter?” The succubus grinned down at the man she had cornered against the wall, “I know I caught you staring…”

“I, I-I,” he straightened his glasses, “I didn’t mean to, I-I’m sorry I—”

“Shhhhh,” she set a finger on his lips. “Didn’t say I minded…”

His eyes widened, his cheeks flushed… but their moment was interrupted by Blitzø strolling by, “Careful bud, they don’t call them succ-ubi for nothin’!” And he cackled, leading the group to their next stop… “Oh that’s gotta be fun!”

3:02 PM

“Come on! COME ON!” Millie cheered as she watched the roulette ball spin and spin along the wheel, a crowd of other demons all about her eagerly waiting to see how their bets landed. 

No luck. 

“God fucking dammit!” She slammed her fists on the table. The dealer quivered at the blow, trembling at the incensed horde pressing in. “One more time, ONE more time!”

“Bad roll, huh?” Moxie reappeared beside her, a pair of expensive martinis in his hands. Millie grabbed hers and downed it in seconds. “Hey dealer! Mind helpin’ out a lady here?!”

“I, I-I’m sorry that’s not how it works…”

The crowd roared at the human, “What about MY bet?!” “Yeah, make ME win too!” 

And as the chaos unfolded, one floor up Loona wandered the tourist trap exhibits because they were kind of like museums, and you were supposed to take kids to museums right? Mackie in one arm, her other wrist adorned with the gold jewelry they had lying around the King Tut thing next door, they now looked at a series of bodies and organs that the humans had decided to display themselves. Like the slice-by-slice view of an entire human encased in resin. That the humans decided to put on.  “Fuck me, these guys really are freaks,” she muttered to herself, before turning her attention to Mackie again. “So uh, yeah, you feeling educated yet?”

The baby just looked back. 

“I’ll take that as yes, means I’m doing my job.” She went to the next room over, and found one of the security guards backed into a corner. Oh, she couldn’t help herself… Loona stepped towards him, escalating his fear, and gave a fanged grin. She pointed, “See that, Mackie?”

She actually did look. 

“That is a jackass who thought he was so much better than us. I think he’s also learning something today…”

4:25 PM

Moxxie reclined on his tube, sunglasses on his face, palm trees passing by beneath the churning red sky. Slowly he took a drag on the cigar, felt the smoke curl into him… until he suddenly coughed and choked. 

“Doin’ alright hon?” Millie was just nearby, staying linked with their tails. He could hear the amusement in her voice.

“Gah! Still getting used to it. Did I almost look cool though?”

“You always look cool to me.”

“Oh shush.” He sighed, holding the cigar to her. “Try just a bit of it. It’s actually so much better than the shit we got in Hell.”

She almost took it… but they got disturbed by a sudden splash down the way, and some humans screaming. Moxxie lifted his sunglasses to see another group of imps carrying some Earth sharks from the aquarium nearby and dumping them into one of the other pools. 

“Well this should be interesting,” Moxxie snickered. 

As they went around the water again,  inside the resort Stolas was looking up, up a shelf full of wines extending four stories high. “Oh my…”

“What d’you got that’s good?!” Blitzø demanded of the man behind the counter. He was about to speak but Blitzø cut him off, “Actually, Stolas, you want something good or something expensive?”

“Good point…” That was one of the most eye-opening discoveries he’d made the past year, he hardly knew if he could stomach the palace food even if he did somehow get back. Not that that option was any more likely now… “...Fuck it, what’s the priciest bottle you still have? We try it and don’t like it, we don’t have to drink it.”

“Oh yeaaaaah, good point! Come on, tell me you got somethin’ five digits! You gotta!” 

“Uhm… I-I think we just got some new inventory in…”

“Wait are you fucking serious?! I was JOKING! Hold on, I wanna see myself!” And he darted over to the shelves, “C’mon get your ass over here!”

“S-Sir, hold on, let me get it for you!” The human began reaching up — until Blitzø grabbed him by the tie.

“I can get it myself fucker!” And he yanked him down to the floor. The man struggled to get onto his hands and knees, perfect for the imp to step up onto his back. “There, that’s being helpful.”

The human grimaced as he knelt there as a stepstool for Blitzø. Stolas watched with wide eyes… and he looked away, flushing slightly. He envied that human right now…

5:13 PM

Loona carefully brought her tray back to the table with the other hellhounds, piled high with literally everything they had to offer. “Holy fuck these buffets are great!” And they all began gorging themselves on the tower of food, just as Moxxie and Millie were in a heated argument upstairs. 

“I-I’m sorry,” the woman running the roller coaster entrance stammered, “but it’s for your own safety!”

“Y’think we’re not capable of making our own choices about our safety!?” Millie slipped out a knife, eyes narrowing. “We are getting on that fucking coaster!”

“But, the height — i-if you get hurt, who do you think they’re gonna blame?!”

“Does it look like our fucking problem? Come on!” 

She grabbed Moxxie’s hand and pulled him through the queue. He grinned, “Oh I love the way you handled that…” 

Minutes later they were strapped onto the ride, Millie screaming in ecstasy, Moxxie screaming in terror, as they raced around a miniature facade of New York City. As the car roared past they could just catch a glimpse of Blitzø and Stolas and Mackie on a makeshift platform layering more graffiti on the Statue of Liberty.

“Hold that paint bucket, alright kid?” Mackie only stared back silently. “No snark, I love it. Best employee I got!” Blitzø passed the brush up to Stolas, as they tried to spell out a large red I.M.P. “Look at this fuckin’ real estate! Folks still gonna need some hitmen right? We’re gonna be the top assassin joint on the fuckin’ planet!”

Stolas looked out over the area… and then froze. “Blitzø?” When he didn’t answer, he tapped the imp on the shoulder.

“Little busy right now Stolas.” 

“Blitzø, look.”

“Ugh, what the fuck is your…” He turned around, and saw the massive sign on the castle-themed resort across the street advertising some medieval dinner show. With a knight rearing up on a massive stallion. 

The brush fell from Blitzø’s hand. Everything faded around him. 

“Holy fuck…”

5:26 PM

“Come on, come on, come on,” Blitzø bounced on the balls of his feet, hands clenched at his sides, waiting in the middle of the dirt arena. Stolas couldn’t help but notice how this was different from his usual impatience, where he’d cross his arms and snidely insult anything in sight. Of course, usually when Blitzø had to wait, it was for something stupid and not one of his greatest dreams come to life… 

The human woman finally returned, leading a mare out. 

Blitzø inhaled so hard that Stolas feared he’d pop like a balloon. Then he ran for it.

“Uh… s-so, this is one of our calmer horses here, but you still have to be—”

“Shut the fuck up!” Blitzø shoved her to the ground and grabbed the reins. Of course the mare immediately chuffed and retreated, and he instantly switched tones. “No no no, not you! Not you, oh you’re a beautiful horse, yes you are!”

Stolas stepped closer as well. Obviously the horse was skittish around a hellborn demon, but… not as much as he had feared. He glanced at the human lying on the dirt and trying to scoot away. Their gazes met. Stolas motioned with his head for her to go, while Blitzø was distracted, and she took the cue immediately. Then back to the imp, who was actually managing to keep his hand on the horse’s snout, calming it down. “I have to admit, I didn’t think you actually knew how to handle horses.”

“Bitch, I grew up in a fucking circus. And you know how many horse movies I’ve seen! Come on, help me up!” 

Stolas slipped his hands under Blitzø’s arms and hefted him up onto the horse’s back. The animal suddenly began to tense. “Uh, I don’t think this is a good idea…”

“Hey, I just fuckin’ told you. This is the part where the horse doesn’t trust anyone, but the unshakeable rider will hold on and HUAAAAAH!” 

The mare suddenly lunged to the side and began kicking, spinning, Stolas had to recoil back to avoid getting hit! Blitzø laughed madly as he clung to the animal though. He kept shouting in between the constant bucking.

“See — This — is just — part of — the process — of bonding — with the — horse! — I know — what —I’m doing!”

“Blitzø, please be careful! I don’t think this is working the way it’s supposed to, Blitzø!”

The mare now rose up and gave a great neigh, Blitzø clinging on with one hand out, looking like a master equestrian. Stolas took in the sight… and for a moment, his heart did flutter. 

Then the horse threw itself backwards and slammed Blitzø into the ground beneath its body.

“OH SATAN! BLITZØ!” 

The mare rolled off and galloped away, leaving the imp pressed into the dirt, limbs pointing in different directions, eyes doing the same. Blitzø’s tail looked crooked, flopping feebly as he gave a groan. Stolas fell to his knees beside him. 

“Blitzø! Come on, say something!”

The imp closed his eyes, and groaned. “That… was FUCKING AWESOME!” He lifted his trembling arms and let out a laugh. Stolas couldn’t help but feel a wave of relief. “I LOVE THIS FUCKING PLACE!” 

“Oh don’t you ever scare me like that again! Here, let’s go find a baphomet, they’ll patch you up…”

He carefully cradled Blitzø in his arms, the imp still throwing his fists in the air. “Best fucking day EVER!”

Chapter Text

Art done by the great @gosuguinn on BlueSky!

Sera chuckled as she slowly navigated the crowd of children around her knees. “Careful now, careful. You’ll all get your turn…”

The Rapture had brought all the youngest children of Earth here to Heaven, along with the few truly pure and good souls. The initial confusion was quickly quelled, and what followed were hours upon hours of sorting everyone inside. Older new arrivals began helping to shepherd the young ones through the bright golden gates. Angels carried infants two at a time.  Even two days later, the influx was still dissipating. The kids old enough to walk raced and scampered about, admiring how high up above the clouds they were. Usually it was only grave tragedy that brought such a young human to Heaven early, but Sera had always found them the most endearing. True, many weren’t old enough to have learned inhibition, but their desires were the most basic and their joy the most pure. Even in their mischief there was a level of true innocence. 

That was small comfort to St. Peter right now though, as a pair of eager twins yanked on his feathers.

“Owww! What the—” He craned his neck to see over his shoulder and the edge of his wing. In his arms he balanced two babies. “What do you think you’re all doing, huh?”

“Sorry!” 

The apology was laced with a giggle. Peter rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Oh you… go on, get inside now. Go on!” He shooed them away, before turning to another girl looking up at him.

“Are you really St. Peter?”

“The one and only!”

“You don’t look like St. Peter.”

“Mmmm, let me guess, old guy, dark hair and a beard?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you wanna know a secret?” He looked both ways, before crouching down to whisper, “Up here in Heaven, they got places that can make you look any way you want. Few centuries ago, I had a red hair phase, let it get allllll the way down to my shoulders too!”

The girl giggled, “No you didn’t!”

“I did too! I’ll show you a picture. Now run along, we have to close up here!” Peter motioned her towards the gates, then followed after. Another angel met him partway, and he handed off the babies, before returning back outside. That was, finally, the last of them. Peter returned to his podium… and Sera could see him linger there. He had a certain sadness in his eyes. 

“Peter?”

With a blink he met her gaze. “Oh! Sorry Sera, was just… getting my stuff put away here! You know. For the last time… yaaaay!”

His hand lingered on his book. Peter’s grin faltered as he kept looking down on it. Then, he opened it again. Reading through the names, billions of names, his eyes flitting over each one. The older ones naming a person and their hometown, the recent ones with modern surnames. 

“...It’s been a very full two thousand years, hasn’t it?”

“And you served admirably, Simon Peter.”

His eyes lifted to meet hers. “Thank you Sera. I always hoped I was. You know how it is, eternal afterlife is a long time. All the time in the world to go second-guessing yourself… did we get everyone?”

“I should ask you that!”

“We have every name in the book, but I meant… ah, never mind.” Peter gently closed his book and picked it up. Despite its heft and his own slender build, he held it quite easily. Slowly his podium descended out of sight into the clouds.

“Trust the divine plan Peter.”

“I know.” Step by step he approached her looking over the edge to the planet below. Sera turned, and swept her hand through the air. 

Down below them, the grey blankets of stratus scattered. Now they could see the surface. The narrow border of twilight ran right past them, so they could see the familiar glittering lights of cities… now punctuated by dark crimson clouds churning over the landscape, red pentagrams burning above them. Sera shuddered to herself. Part of her wanted to try to peer through the clouds to the surface underneath, but couldn’t muster the courage to right now. 

“...Sera?”

“Yes?”

“What’s going to happen next?”

She looked at him surprised. “...You know what happens next. The final battle of good and evil, and the ultimate victory of Heaven.”

“Yeah I know that, but I mean, what does that actually look like?”

Lute’s voice cut in, “I’ll tell you what it looks like…”

She had stepped up unheard to the edge of the cloud cover, just on the other side of Sera. Peter jumped a bit at her arrival. 

“It looks like everyone getting what they deserve. Everyone who did what they were supposed to do finally gets Creation to themselves. Everyone who couldn’t follow basic directions?” The angel drew her blade dramatically, glaring down at the surface.

Peter kept clutching his book close to his chest. “We’re not killing… everyone who’s left down there, right?”

“So what if we are?” Lute interrupted before Sera could answer. “They had their chance. They made their choice. And if they chose badly it’s their own damn fault. We’ve been coddling the mortals for too long down there, I’m so sick of seeing them—”

“Lute.”

Sera raised her hand to force quiet. The angel finally broke from her smoldering rant, and looked across at St. Peter who was holding the book tighter and tighter, eyes turning more and more away. “...Right. Sorry, Peter.”

“It’s okay.” He kept looking away.

“I’m not talking about people like you. Okay, you’re a good person. You made it here after all!”

Peter didn’t respond. 

“Oh for the love of… look, why do you suddenly care? Didn’t they crucify you too? Upside down?”

“Yeah. I guess they did.”

“...You mortals are so sentimental.” With a disgusted scoff Lute rolled her eyes, before addressing Sera. “You’re needed inside.”

“Just a moment.” She waved Lute away, before turning back to Peter. He was starting to relax a bit again. “I’ll talk to her about being mindful of her words.”

“Again?”

“...Again.”

Peter kept looking down at the churning atmosphere below them. He held his book a little closer to his chest. Infernal lightning crackled across the tops of the clouds below.

“When Armageddon comes, those on Earth will have a chance to pick their side. There’s some hope for them yet, Peter.”

He gave a gentle nod, and finally turned, to step back inside. “It’s alright Sera. Really. I know she’s got her job to worry about and all. Sometimes she’s just a little intense about it.”

“I know. We all have our parts to play…”

It was not the first time she’d said those words.

“He was over there!”

Adam pointed to the other side of the small valley, and sure enough Sera could see Lucifer fretting over a large animal, some kind of horse. “It’s okay Adam, I’ll talk to him.”

“I just… I don’t get it.” His eyes were wide. “Why did he get mad at me? I was just hungry!”

“I’ll talk to him. Don’t worry.”

As she got closer she could see it was in fact a horse he was working on. His back was to her so he couldn’t see her approach. Lilith circled the creature in the meantime, totally nude, watching him fret over the creature. She smiled at Sera’s approach, not a hint of self-consciousness. Lucifer sighed,  “No, no no, it’s still not right! The legs are still too skinny! I swear we had it!”

“I’m pretty sure that the shoulders were leaner, and it had more of a curved back?”

“...Yeah, yeah that was it! Oh you’re a genius!” He held his arms out and leapt into the air, meeting at her level.

They shared a kiss.

Sera froze in her tracks. She kept staring as they kept locked in that embrace. Lilith’s eyes opened and looked at her, full of mirth, before breaking to call out, “Hi Sera!”

Oh that got Lucifer to whirl around. “SERA! Sera, I, I didn’t hear you! Hi! Uh, h-how long have you been standing there?” 

As he stammered, Lilith kept watching him in amusement, and slight confusion at the way he was acting. Sera glanced at her, “Lilith, would you please head back home for now?”

Lilith looked from her to Lucifer, then back. “Do I have to?”

Sera almost didn’t process it at first. Do I have to? It was the first time Lilith, or Adam for that matter, had declined a command. She could see Lucifer’s eyes getting wider and wider, he started rubbing at his arm. “I just… need to speak to Lucifer alone. Please.”

Still she hesitated. Or, hesitation wasn’t the right word, she was actively considering whether or not to do it. “...Alright.” Lilith finally walked off, very pointedly not in the direction of home. She looked over her shoulder, “Lucy, come find me when you’re done, okay?”

“Okay! Will do, hon— will do!” He laughed it off, Sera could see the sweat beading on his head as they waited for the human to be out of sight. “...Sera please I promise I can explain—”

She silenced him with a raised hand. It took all of her willpower to not just tear into him right now. “Adam came running up to me a little bit ago.”

“Oh! Adam! Yeah! How’s uh, I mean I’m sure he’s doing fine!”

“Actually, he was very upset. He told me that you yelled at him.”

“Uh… I, yelled at him? I, uh… I don’t know if I—”

“LUCIFER!”

Sera’s voice roared, letting slip the mask she wore over her angelic form. She could feel dozens of eyes open across her wings and limbs, all glaring at Lucifer who flinched away in his robes. 

“I cannot believe you! Were you just about to lie to me?!”

“No! No no no, I, right! Yeah, Adam! I did get mad at him earlier, that’s right! He was… you know, he did something that… he wasn’t supposed to do?”

“Did he eat from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil?”

“...No.”

“That is literally the only thing they’re ‘not supposed to do’. Tell me Lucifer, what did he do then?” Oh she already knew, but she had to hear it from his own mouth. 

Lucifer took a deep breath. Then he stepped over to the beast he’d been fretting over, “He ate my horse!”

“Your horse?”

“Okay, my upgraded version of a horse. He came right up to it, hit it over the head, and started cutting into it!”

“He was hungry. You know that it’s natural for them. They were given the animals to steward and to feed upon.”

“But you know how long I spent on it?! You know how messed up they are?! I just…” She could tell, he was no longer thinking about Adam, “why would we create an animal whose whole thing is that they run, and then they practically fall apart while running?! Look at these legs! How are they supposed to hold up a body like this?! And then their lungs get all shredded! I fixed it, and then that idiot went ahead and ruined it!”

“Lucifer.”

Oh he could hear the venom in her voice. It was the first time she’d pulled him out of one of his obsessive monologues so quickly. 

“Your enthusiasm for Creation has been very endearing up until now. But you would do well to remember that it does not belong to you. We all have our roles to play. Father made Creation for the humans. They are His chosen children. We serve Him, and by extension we serve them. That is our role. They will shape the world as they see fit. Not as we see fit.”

His eyes were downcast. “Yes Sera.”

“Look at me.”

He did so. 

“What did you just agree to?”

“Uggggh,” he pressed his palms to his eyes, “I’ll let the humans do what they want! I won’t get mad if they ruin anything I make! Which,” he cut her off before she could interject, “I won’t be making stuff any more because Creation is for humans!”

“...And Lilith?” 

Lucifer froze. Sera turned to see the human woman peering through the branches. Of course Lilith didn’t bother retreating upon being found. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, not in her mind. “Yeah?”

“Go back to Adam. He misses you.”

Lilith grimaced, “So?”

“...So, you two were made to be partners! To populate the world together! You are going to be the mother of all humanity!”

“I don’t want to. I like Lucifer instead.”

Oh. Oh she was going to tear into Lucifer right in front of Father. It was bad enough that he was frightening Adam for no reason, but for a seraph like him to be courting a mortal? “Lilith. It’s not appropriate for you to be with Lucifer. It’s not the way things are supposed to be. Adam is your partner. You need to go back to him.”

“No I don’t. I don’t want to.” She was getting confused. “Why can’t I stay with Lucifer? I like him better!”

“It’s difficult to explain, but he did something that confused you. Just come with me…”

She took Lilith by the hand — and was astonished by the way she yanked it away. “No! I said I don’t want to!” 

Sera’s mouth hung open. “Lilith, what’s gotten into you?” She crouched down, trying to address her better, “You and Adam were made for each other! I don’t know what Lucifer did to you—”

“SERA!”

Somehow that was even more startling, Lucifer coming around to put himself between her and Lilith. She’d seen him passionate before, upset, even angry. But she’d never seen this fiery look in his red eyes before. 

“I did nothing to her! You want to know why she likes me more!?” He stepped aside, gesturing. “Lilith, tell her what you told me.”

The human looked up, not a trace of anger in her eyes, “Adam keeps telling me what to do. Things that I don’t want to do. If something is boring, he says I have to do it. But if it’s fun, he won’t let me do it! He wants me to do things that hurt. If I ask him for anything, he won’t do it. But if I don’t do something that he asks, he gets mad!”

Sera felt a pit in her stomach as she heard all this. She had overheard the pair of them squabbling, but had resisted the urge to interfere because she wanted them to learn to work things out themselves. If she had known things were this bad… “Well… what if you and I try to talk to Adam together? I know not every part of Creation is fun. But I’m sure you and Adam can figure out a way to share the things that are and aren’t fun.”

“I tried that. I told him the same thing, and he just laughed. Lucifer…” she looked at him, “he doesn’t make me do things I don’t want to do.”

He stood there, glaring up at Sera. When Lilith came over to him though, and bent over to kiss him on his alabaster-white cheek, his expression softened. He took her hand, kissed it softly, and she gave a laugh. 

Sera stood and looked up to the sky, oh this could not be happening. Oh if anyone else found this, Lucifer would have been chained up for years. This was going to be such a headache to fix. Adam needed a partner, the humans needed to procreate. But… she couldn’t very well drag Lilith back to Adam kicking and screaming. 

“Okay.”

Both Lucifer and Lilith looked up at her. 

“I will go back. I will have a very long talk with Adam about his role as the first man, and how he needs to be more respectful. And… I will figure out a way for him to have another partner. I will tell the others that Lilith wandered off.”

“Really?!” Lucifer’s face brightened along with Lilith’s. Oh that grin, he really thought he was going to get away with this. “Sera, thank—”

“But I will be telling Father.”

Yeah that wiped out his smile again. 

“This doesn’t change the rest of what we discussed either. The Earth belongs to the mortal humans. That is non-negotiable.”

With a wave of her hand, the horse he’d been working on dissolved back into loam and sand. Lilith startled away in surprise. Lucifer took it in… and his expression hardened. “...That doesn’t seem fair, does it?”

“I’m sorry?” 

“Is this supposed to be a fair exchange? You’re going to ‘talk to Adam’? What is he going to understand? Of course he treated Lilith like garbage, he has no concept of what it means to be ‘fair’ or ‘unfair’! Sera, he needs to be able to tell the difference between good and—”

She seized him by the front of his garments and catapulted them both into the sky above the garden. Lucifer let out a shout as Sera pulled him close, far out of Lilith’s earshot:

“You will do no such thing.”

“I-I didn’t say me! I didn’t say I would!”

“They are innocent creatures. They literally can do no wrong. We eat the fruit so that we bear the burden to guide them. You will not abandon your duty so you can go play around in the garden some more!”

“Sera!” He caught his breath, tried to remove himself from her grasp. She refused. “Sera, please… We literally have only two humans on the planet so far and already things aren’t working out! Think about how much easier we could guide them, how much more they could achieve if they could see for themselves what goodness is!”

“Because Lucifer, if you thought about things from someone else’s perspective for five seconds, you would realize that the moment they discover ‘good’, they also discover ‘evil’. And that is not Father’s plan!”

His breathing was still strained. But his teeth gritted. “...Now who’s the one taking Creation away from the humans?”

With a disgusted sigh Sera tossed him away. He recaptured his balance in the air, wings flared, his face thunderous. “Lucifer!”

“What?!”

She raised a finger. “You are a seraph. If I find out you took advantage of that mortal to any degree, I will drag you to Father’s feet personally.”

Lucifer had never forgotten that, even thousands of years later. Not that he’d needed the warning of course, he’d never dream of forcing himself on Lilith. No, it was the fact that Sera had seen him as capable of doing such a horrendous thing. The look in her eyes, that disgust, that anger… it was the first time anyone had looked at him in such a way. Things had been different after that. He and Lilith had retreated to their own secret place in the garden, and outside of Heaven’s eye, he’d kept working… but he didn’t want to think about that right now.

He sighed as he soared through the air. It had been a long time since he’d let himself freely roam like this without any regard for disguising himself. Lucifer didn’t have anywhere in particular he was trying to go. He just needed to stretch his wings in the fresh air of the living world. He was the king, right? Kings got to do whatever they wanted. 

From Rome he’d just started off in a direction, flying over the Balkans and the Black Sea. The open water reminded him of the very early times, before the landmasses had even been sculpted. Then the Caucasus Mountains, skimming along their edge, lost in his thoughts until a pair of Russian jets had tried to intercept him. Honestly… it felt kind of good to flip over onto his back, fold his arms behind his head, shoot them a wink, and then shoot off faster than they could ever go. Mortals with their silly little machines… 

From there he’d skimmed east, right past Islamabad and Lahore… the latter under siege from the forces of Hell. He skipped over to the ridge of the mighty Himalayas where they met the wide open Indian subcontinent. He could still remember Michael and the others building the mountains up to be even higher, oh that had been fun. And then southeast more. 

The rolling green fields of Bharat. The occupied city of Kalkut. The blue waters of the Bay of Bengal. Bangkok already sporting a massive statue of its new Goetian master. And soon, he was over the southwestern tip of Indochina, above Saigon. Another point of attack that had been decided. And to think, this city barely had fifty years of peace since the last war these mortals raged over books and flags… 

With a pitying sigh he took himself down on the outskirts of the city, a grassy hill overlooking the siege. It was night in this part of the planet, so the firelight of the war colored everything he could see. Down in the distance silhouettes of armed men and modern tanks, the sharp shapes of imps and sharks pouncing. Their inhuman physical abilities already gave them an edge, and with Leviathan’s possessors? The Goetia’s magic? Any temporary win the mortals could gain would be obliterated. All of this, this is what Hell had been so eager to unleash across the world… 

He heard a soft sob in front of him. 

Lucifer froze in place. The tall grass he’d been standing in was just beside the road. He crept forward. On the other side of the asphalt, clinging behind a tree, was a girl also watching the conflict unfold. A young girl. She couldn’t have been older than ten. 

And Heaven had deemed her old enough, intelligent enough to be guilty of sin.

Lucifer looked at her. No, he shouldn’t… 

Another shuddering breath from her as she hid there watching her home go up in flames. She hadn’t noticed him yet…

“It’s okay.”

She whipped around in fear as he emerged from the grass. He’d willed himself down to two wings, his hat and scepter vanished. When he spoke, it was in fluent Vietnamese.

“Do not be afraid.”

She still recoiled from him as he came closer. 

“No no, it’s okay! Here, let me…?” Lucifer held out his hands, and began to sit cross-legged on the ground. “I’m not going to hurt you. What’s your name?”

She struggled to watch him and the destruction at once. “Are you one of them?”

“No,” he was used to lying. “I promise.”

“...What are you?”

 “I’m an angel.” Technically not a lie. “Or a thần, if you understand that better.”

“What… what’s going on?! My family, I can’t find them, and the city’s being destroyed by monsters, they say they’re like the Christian demons, I-I don’t know what to do, please!”

“Shhhhh. It’s alright. You’re going to be okay.” 

“No I’m not, I’m not!” She had her hands in her hair, on the verge of a breakdown. Lucifer needed something to distract her… 

His black fingers plucked a pebble from the ground. “Hey. I have a gift for you.”

She stared at the stone. The sheer absurdity seemed to get her mind off the horrors unfolding behind her. “...A rock?”

“For now! But watch…” He curled it into both hands, and blew inside. A little golden glow between his fingers to accentuate the transformation… then he showed her. 

The stone had been transformed into a beautiful flower mantis, sitting in his palm. It was one of his favorite creatures, high praise since he hadn’t even designed it! And the girl was astounded. “Wait, how did you do that?!”

“I told you. I’m an angel. But I can teach you. Here…” He patted the ground next to him. She hesitated… but accepted it. Lucifer swept his hand across the road behind them, gathering a fistful of dirt. “Hold out your hands.”

She did so, and he poured the dirt in. Then he laid his hands over hers. 

“Now you try it. Turn it into anything you might like.”

The girl looked from his face to their hands. So uncertain. But she dared to close her eyes, concentrating so hard. Lucifer carefully let his fingertip brush over the edges of her palm. Then his fingers lifted away. 

Slowly, the dirt began to clump together. She opened one eye and gasped in delight, interrupting the process.

“You’re doing it! Keep concentrating, it’ll get easier. Anything you want.” 

She kept focusing, and bit by bit the dirt shaped into a handful of spiky litchi fruit. Her eyes filled with glee. “I… I can’t believe it! Oh, I haven’t eaten since yesterday, thank you!” 

And she seized him in a sideways hug. 

Lucifer sat there, surprisingly taken aback. The joy on her face, and what she’d wished for. He’d expected another cool bug, or gold or a weapon or something. Perhaps a side effect of striking deals with sinners for millennia.

And Heaven had left her behind here. 

Slowly, the wing by her settled around her shoulder. For a moment, Lucifer could almost imagine being back in the garden, back when he’d first met Adam and Lilith, and their eyes had been so wide and trusting…

“I swore I saw someone behind here!” 

A cruel cackle. The girl gasped in fear, but Lucifer gestured for her to stay down. He rose to his feet, eyeing a trio of imps coming down the road with guns in hand. 

“Oh shit! Hey Lu—”

He snapped his fingers, and they froze into stone. “Get up, quickly.”

The girl did so, struggling to hold the fruit in her hands. 

“What you’ve just done with me, that power? You have that now. But you need to do something for me in return.”

“What?”

“Hide. Hide yourself wherever you can. There will be more coming, more dangerous than these demons here. Hide, promise me that!”

“I promise!”

“Then go!” And he sent her off, racing down the road, away from the advancing grip of Hell. Lucifer kept staring after her. Then back to the city overrun by demons. Then the churning clouds… and up beyond them, he knew, the golden gates of heaven.

Chapter Text

Art by Eagc1995!

Octavia carried the grimoire under her arm as she picked her way along the Andes, far enough north of Santiago and south of Lima to be free of the smoldering cloud cover. On this half of the planet it was still the early days of summer, so even night time was pleasant and balmy. Still though, she clutched a small flame in her palm as she walked along the trail from where she’d portaled in… 

And finally she reached the summit. From up here, she could see the stars glimmering in all directions. The Milky Way reached across the sky. Something very familiar twanged in her heart, and she gave a sad smile. 

The stars always reminded her of her father. 

Shaking her head and pushing that aside, Octavia opened the grimoire now. Inside the book were several small sheets with intricate geometric designs her uncle had drawn up. She lifted one hand, and conjured a small celestial sphere around herself, highlighting where all the stars were.

“Okay, and then, six weeks from now…”

Carefully she shifted her hand along, and the sphere followed her motion. Now the projected stars and planets and moon showed where they’d be when Armageddon happened. She took one of Andrealphus’ drawings and lifted it. The complex sigil projected onto the edge of her sphere, and Octavia began trying to align its edges and elements to the cosmos. She turned around, kept sliding it and turning it to try and find some kind of match. 

After about five minutes she set the drawing down, marked where she could get any alignments, and picked up the next one. Bit by bit though she grew more frustrated. No more than four notable celestial bodies at a time lined up with any of these designs, and even then the best of these could only fit two stars and a planet. If they built this sigil and positioned it just right, it could collect enough power to burn a house down. Not nearly enough to be an effective weapon against Heaven. 

With a growl Octavia clapped the grimoire shut again in one hand. The celestial sphere vanished. Now she stood beneath the unspoiled night sky, only a few scattered clusters of lights off in the distance. Octavia barely spared them a look as she opened the portal again, and returned home. 

Well… as much as the Palace of Versailles could be considered ‘home.’

She was greeted by the familiar sound of Andrealphus’ voice shrieking, “—had wanted you to waste a glass of water by bringing it all the way to my study, I would have ASKED you for it!”

A stammering voice speaking in French, “Sorry, my lord! Apologies! I just thought you had—”

“Ah, that is the problem. You mortals think way too much! I do not require you to think, I require you to obey!” 

The door to her uncle’s study flung open. A tuxedoed human threw himself out just as glass shattered against the frame! Octavia recoiled from the splatter of water, from the poor servant nearly barreling into her, “Sorry, so sorry Your Highness! Apologies!” He barely caught himself and scurried off. 

Octavia watched after him. Then she turned back to Andrealphus’ door, flipping the book open in her arm again and waving her free hand. The shards skittered back together, the water congealed together, and within seconds the glass had reassembled itself. She couldn’t help a small smile, she had gotten good at that one. 

“Via, don’t clean up that mess! That’s what we have servants for!”

Of course her uncle’s scolding wiped the smile off her face. Whatever. She still stooped down and picked the cup off the floor before entering the study completely. This palace had already been an icon of opulence, a monument to decadent royals of the past. Somehow, her uncle’s and mother’s tastes had managed to push it even further. A gilded orrery hung from the ceiling, and one wall of the room had been removed to make space for an astrolabe. On the opposite side of the study, her uncle stood before a large ornate desk that he’d forced their imps to drag up from Hell. All of the fine palatial furniture here was of course human-sized, too small for him to use. That had been a great start to his mood, and things had only gotten better from there…

“Don’t debase yourself with such a menial task. You have far more important matters to attend to! I asked you to go test those designs an hour ago!”

“What do you think I was doing?” Octavia set the glass on the nearest shelf before yanking his drawings out of the grimoire. “None of them are working yet.”

Andrealphus took them, shuffling through, his eyes scanning each slip. “Fuck…” He turned back to his desk. Strewn across the top were wire shapes, different prisms and pyramids outlined in brass. Large scrolls of parchment were unrolled with numbers and letters and runes and characters Octavia had barely even seen before. They surrounded intricate designs of overlapped stars and circles and triangles and rectangles drawn out centuries ago. Overlaid on the scroll were scraps of paper with her uncle’s own wild scribbling and sketching. “There has to be a pattern here that we can use…”

“Didn’t Duke Berith say something about lead when he visited last night? That’s associated with Saturn, and it’ll be near Pisces on the day of Armageddon. Maybe something with discipline mixed with renewal, is that anything we can work with?” 

He dropped his hands and papers back to the desk, sighing, looking up into nowhere in particular. “The constellation there, the planet… and then we etch the sigil into lead…” Slender white gloved fingers began to motion in the air as he worked the idea in his mind’s eye. He paused. Then he grabbed another sheet of parchment and scribbled down another note. 

Octavia couldn’t help but feel like she was in over her head on this. She was struggling to achieve competency over what was already written in the grimoire. Now she had been thrust into researching a new combination of magic that would allow them to defeat Heaven. Suddenly she was expected to comprehend alchemy and arithmancy and the webs of connections between their symbols and astrology and it all made her head spin. Add onto that the diplomacy she was still expected to balance, and keeping straight all of her uncle’s contacts, such as—

“Evening princess.”

She whipped around as an imp emerged from the shadows. The cowboy outfit, the trim black mustache, the wild yellow eyes, she recognized him alright. Octavia was never made privy to what kind of stuff Striker did for her uncle and mother, but she knew enough to realize she didn’t want to know more. “Hi…”

“Come now, is that any way to greet a family friend?” He sauntered towards her, head tilted back just enough so that the brim of his hat met his eyes. Sharp fangs filled his grin. But despite his swagger… his arm was in an impromptu sling. “I’ve been real busy…”

“I’m sure…”

Striker suddenly drew a sharp blade from his belt, and began to admire the serrated edge. “Gotta admit, the little fuckers up here are pretty tough. Got a lot o’ fancy toys. Fighter jets, gunships…” His grin widened. “Guess I should be grateful.”

“...For what?”

“Well, now I don’t have to feel bad when I don’t hold back for those fleshy fuckers.” And he turned the blade over, dragging his slim forked tongue over the flat edge… and Octavia’s stomach squirmed when she saw dried blood on the metal. “All that bluster, all those gadgets they tinker with… and all it takes is one portal, a couple of possessors, and a dead officer to send them into a frenzy. I’d almost feel bad if they didn’t have it coming…”

“Oh I know,” Andrealphus, despite his frustration, still managed a laugh along with him. “Come here, I’ll fix that for you.”

Striker sighed as he came closer, undoing the sling, then gingerly removing his jacket. For all his bravado Octavia could still see a wince of pain crack the edges of his grin. At least for a moment. His black shirt hugged his body as Andrealphus’ slender fingers traced around the bullet wound. “How’s the fuckers doing here? They broken in yet?”

Andrealphus shook his head, a particularly nasty smirk on his beak. “If they were good at doing what they were told, Heaven wouldn’t have left them down here…”

“Oh we’ll make them learn, alright.” Striker’s eyes trailed over to Octavia again. She took a step back away from him, and immediately hated herself for it when it made him chuckle. “Don’t worry Princess, do I look like the kind of guy who’d go for regicide?”

“...Yeah? Kinda?”

“Oh you flatter me,” he laughed. “But I got my hands full already. Eight billion humans are a lot to cut through. Gotta say, feels good to knock ‘em down a peg at long last.”

“He does do a splendid job of it, Via. Sometimes I watch him work, and he is spectacular.”

“A compliment, from your lordship?” Striker snickered, and narrowed his eyes. 

“I have half a mind to scrounge up some angelic weapons and send him to Heaven alone!” Andrealphus suddenly paused. He glanced to Octavia, then to the darkened night sky outside the windows, a dull reddish shade.  Then he turned back to Octavia. “Why don’t you retire for the evening? We can’t work without proper rest, you know. I’ll play with the numbers some more, and come up with some new sigils.”

Like a switch flipped, Octavia felt a great relief and a great fatigue both descended on her. She’d been given permission to be tired. Plus, she had an excuse to not be around this… freak. Even by imp standards Striker was intense. “Thank you…” On her way out she grabbed the glass to take back to the kitchen.

“Oh you can leave that, please. I am a bit parched.” 

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Lucky they couldn’t see. They continued their conversation as she left, and she worked her way across the Hall of Mirrors to the rooms on the other side, where she and Stella were living… and where the kitchen was. 

Turning the corner Octavia spotted a couple more human men, again in tuxedos, one carrying a large silver platter overflowing with fruit and the other a crystal glass jug of water. At the sight of her both quickened their pace and ducked into the kitchen. From inside she could hear a mix of clattering dishware, running water, a television reading off news, and voices. One of those voices was quite agitated, and she could overhear it as she drew closer, “I can’t do this any more! The son of a whore threw a glass at me! All for doing what he told us to do yesterday!”

“Shut up!” 

“Don’t tell me to shut up! You know as well as I do we’re all dead, even if we do everything he says, so why are we—”

The voice was muffled, “One of them’s coming you idiot!” 

Octavia paused just outside the door, looking inside. Five humans looked back at her, with one man forcing his hand over another’s mouth. She could practically hear their hearts hammering in their chests. In the corner of the room the television showed the news, a little fuzzy, “—narrowly voted against the authorization of nuclear deployment. Opponents of the measure argued that the collateral cost of lives would be too high, and tensions ran—”

Already she was walking away, retreating back to her room. Octavia tossed the grimoire on her dresser before sitting on her bed. She slipped her earbuds in, before flopping back. The living world felt so weird. Last time she’d come to the surface, she thought it was just off-putting because it was Los Angeles. But no, if anything she actually wished she was back in the city. Around here, the air felt so empty without constant heat and the smell of sulfur. And the humans… back down in Hell, obviously none of the hellborn races dared to openly oppose the Goetia. Yet it was still normal for them to roll their eyes, to mutter and curse under their breath if they hated an order. It was an expected give-and-take. Here, the way the humans just cowered and pleaded the moment they were cornered…

Her door creaked open behind her. 

Octavia sat up and turned, removing an earbud. It was the same human again, his face pale. “Your Highness, ah… I apologize for bothering you, I was wondering if I could get you anything?” He forced a frightened smile. 

“...Don’t do that.”

“I-I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t call me ‘your highness’. I’m not even an actual princess yet anyways, I don’t actually receive the titles for another few weeks.” She got up and off the bed.

“I, ah… I understand. But Lord Andrealphus ordered us to only address you all by your proper titles—”

“Oh fuck that!”

The man fell silent, wide-eyed.

“My uncle’s an annoying prick who’s just happy he has some new toys to push around. And my mother’s even worse. Yeah, I fucking know.”

He visibly struggled to find his words. “I… I could never say such things about them, I’m afraid.”

Octavia just stared back for a few moments. “If you want to last any length of time here, you gotta get better at lying.”

“Whatever you think you overheard me saying—not to say your hearing is bad or anything, but I-I just mean that there might have been some kind—”

“Stop it! Seriously! Fuck!” She buried her face in her hands. “I just told you I don’t give a shit what you say about him! I don’t give a shit what you say about my mom, I don’t even give a shit what you say about me! For the love of sin just be normal!”

She looked back at him. Great, now he was just more scared. 

“...Okay, don’t believe me if you don’t want to. But I’m not going to tell my uncle what I heard you calling him. I promise.”

“I… thank you, yo—” The man caught himself. Right. He probably hadn’t even been told her actual name. 

“You can call me Octavia. Or just Via.”

“Of course, thank you Octavia.” He hesitated again. “...My name is Jacques.” 

“Jacques.” She nodded. “It’s nice to meet you for real.”

He kept standing there, visibly uncomfortable, unsure what to even do with his body language. “Lord Andrealphus is your uncle, then?”

“Yeah? What’d you think he was?”

“Apologies, but… the assumption was that he was your father.”

“Ugh!” Octavia grimaced at sheer thought of it. “Fuck no! No no no, my dad’s…” She’d been so repelled by the concept of having to grow up with Uncle Andy that for a moment she hadn’t even considered the baggage her actual father had. “...He’s not in the picture.”

“I see… I’m very sorry for that loss.”

Okay that did get a snort out of her. “He’s not dead either! It’s just a long story. But your turn now, what’d you do before you ended up here?”

Jacques began to answer, but Octavia felt her phone buzz. And then again, and a third time. Oh she already knew who it was…

“Shit, hold on, sorry, I think that’s my mom…”

Sure enough, ‘OCTAVIA.’ ‘GET IN HERE.’ ‘OUR SHOW IS STARTING’. 

“Fuck… I’m sorry Jacques, I’m not trying to be rude, I do want to hear more later, okay?” 

He nodded. “Tour guide.”

“...What?”

“That was my job here. I was a tour guide, and was trying to shelter in place when the other demons came in. It’s… the longest I’ve ever spent at work, you might say.” 

He offered a weak laugh, and Octavia smiled back. “I’ll think of something to try to help you guys out, I promise. For now, gotta go keep my mom happy…”

A large drawing room had been modernized into a living room, with a massive flatscreen installed on the centuries-old wall. Stella lounged across a couch that she just had to have brought up from Hell. She didn’t notice Octavia enter, her attention was only the screen. Of course she was watching 666 News, with Katie Killjoy speaking in a far more gleeful tone than the human anchor had been: “—former United States! Seems those dipshits can’t even decide who’s even in charge now! Every governor and secretary and general they have is trying to say they’re the president, and so far the frontrunner seems to be some shitbrained wackjob hiding in a mountain!”

It cut to an old man with a suit and a flag pin, standing in some army hanger, flanked by soldiers. He began saying something about the grace of God and how to evacuate, but Stella had finally noticed her: “Oh you’re just in time! Sit down sit down, they’re going to be starting the trials again soon!”

Octavia trudged over to an armchair and flopped down, pulling out her phone. She glanced to her mother… then went to her text messages. It’d been almost a year since she last tried texting her dad, and honestly she’d been comfortable with that. The past week though… with Armageddon looming, she couldn’t help but just look at his last few messages again. 

“Oh will you get off that fucking thing! You really can’t tell me whatever you’re doing on that is more entertaining than THIS!” 

Her eyes flitted back to the TV. It was a clip of more fighting, a couple of imps trying to circle around a tank and getting caught by gunfire.  But before the mortals could advance, Duke Flauros leapt atop the turret and drove an infernal spear right through the top. Lightning arced across the armor for just a few seconds, before he yanked his weapon back out and held it above his head. The leopard let out a roar, baring his fangs and claws, bullets striking at his fur and sparking off his armor. Not a single round was able to wound him. 

“Ohhhhh the ways I’d let him FUCK me!” Stella cackled. Octavia just squirmed in quiet disgust, trying to not let that image linger in her head. “Look at them fucking run! Oh they’re so PATHETIC!”

“Mom didn’t you say you wanted to watch the trials or something?”

“Yeah yeah I’m switching it over!” She twisted around, searching for the remote in the couch for a few moments before finding it. “Can’t wait until we’re out of this miserable little hovel…” She flipped the channel, and it showed Satan seated atop some human palace in London…

Hubert was thrown onto his knees, certainly scuffing his suit pants. He could hear the chuckling of the imps retreating away behind him… as he now looked up, up at the massive dragon sitting upon Buckingham Palace. Even with a pair of searchlights illuminating him his four yellow eyes stood out brightly. Clawed fingers rested on his knees. Hubert felt very much like an insect being inspected, evaluated… 

“Well? Introduce yourself!”

He lifted both hands to cower, “Right! M-my name’s Hubert Addington!”

One finger tapped impatiently. “...And?”

“And, ah, and I’m senior vice president at June Tree Financial!”

“You are senior vice president?”

That sparked a snicker from the audience all around. Massive stands had been erected and they were thronged with the hellborn — though of course the topmost tiers were reserved for Goetia taking a break from expanding their new domains to watch the show. Hubert glanced around in terror, before turning back to Satan himself towering overhead. “...Y-Y-Yes?”

“Hmmmmm…” All his fingers drummed on his knees again, as he straightened his head to look even more down upon the human by his boots. “Well then, how do you plead?”

“...M-May I ask what the charges are?” That only sparked another roar of laughter from all directions. Hubert looked around frantically, what was so funny?! 

Satan smirked down as well. “I don’t think you understand. Your guilt has already been determined. This is merely a sentencing…”

“What?! No, no there must be some mistake! I’m a good person, I shouldn’t even be here! I give to charity! I, I…” 

But with each point he made, Hubert watched as Satan counted them out on his fingers, a knowing gaze passing over the hellborn. “Is that it?”

Suddenly the dragon was on his feet. A boot as long as Hubert was tall lifted and then crashed down into the brick plaza cracking the ground! The schisms burned with hellfire, and smoke hissed out while Hubert screamed and recoiled. 

“Is that all you have to say for yourself?! You mortals disgust me, it’s the same excuses, every damn time!” Steam curled from his nostrils, a terrifying snarl was now etched across his snout. “You’re a good person. You don’t belong here. You give to charity. Tell me, Mr. Senior Vice President of June Tree Financial, how did you get all that money you gave to charity?”

“No! No we weren’t one of those companies! We helped people! We only sold them things they actually wanted or needed!”

“Is that so? Then you’d be happy to tell us all here,” he held his arms out, “how did you make money from money?”

“I, no, okay we didn’t do anything illegal! It wasn’t like that! I swear we weren’t like that!” 

“Nothing illegal,” Satan chuckled to himself. “Another classic. I’m normally not opposed to it, Hubert, but I think for your sake at this moment you should stop lying. Especially to yourself. You earned a living sucking on society like a tick, and to make yourself feel better about it you forked a little bit over to another rich man who promised he’d do very nice things with it. And for that… you feel entitled to Paradise!?”

“No! No no no!”

“You just said you don’t belong here! You believe you belong in Heaven!”

“I mean, I thought so!”

“With all your work, with all you’ve done in your life, you had a chance at Paradise that anyone here would have killed for…” He paused to let the jeer answer him. “And you squandered it. Just the way the rest of you humans squander everything you have been given. You, the stewards of Creation, what a waste.”

“Please, I didn’t know, I thought I was doing the right thing! I went to church every Sunday, I did!” 

And at that Satan gave another sharp laugh. “Now you’re just trying to piss us off, aren’t you?”

“No, please, please okay I admit it! I wasn’t as good a person as I said I was!”

“We are finally in agreement then! Now we can actually get to business with the sentencing, which I will need your help with.”

Hubert quivered silently, but gave a shaky nod. 

“You see, there are two options available. Either you live the rest of your natural life out here on the surface, before you die and are sent to languish with all other sinners for eternity.”

“...O-Okay?”

“Or…” He clenched his fist, and flames sprouted from it, “we can send you down to Hell now.”

“I… the first! The first option! The first option, I can be useful! I promise I can be useful!” 

“You promise you can be useful?”

“Yes! I can do anything you ask!”

Satan’s eyes narrowed, and his arms folded across his brawny chest. “Your skills as a, what was it again, a ‘senior vice president’ have a lot of use to serve the hellborn?”

“I, ah, I could be a middle manager or something! Really! I can represent you and try to make sure other people are doing what you say!” Hubert could hear some low ‘boos’ from the stands, a hiss. Oh… he just misstepped here. 

Satan stepped forward a bit more, one boot punching down right beside where Hubert was cowering, again splintering the brickwork of the plaza! Then his knee came down, once more pulverizing the ground, as he crouched right over the human. “I must admit, while your excuses have grown tiresome, it  is always so interesting to hear you speak… to hear what you consider the lowest of the low is. What you consider the most soul-crushing menial labor that you can imagine yourself stooping to. It shows just how entitled you are.”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, you’re right! Okay, I can—”

“You can what?”

“I was trying to say I can—”

“What? What can you possibly do to make up for the years you have spent pissing away everything you have received on a silver platter, while the hellborn were left with nothing to hope for?”

“I don’t know, maybe—”

“You don’t know?!” 

“No, I do know!”

“So you’re lying to me again?”

“NO! PLEASE I CAN—”

“I’ve heard enough!” Satan suddenly rose to his feet again, fast enough to cause a rush of wind! Hubert felt it whip around his body. “Hubert Addington, as the Sovereign Sin of Wrath, I sentence you…”

He braced himself, he was so dead, he was going to be crushed under the boot of Satan, no, not like this… 

“...to live.”

“Hoh! Wait, oh, thank you! Thank you thank you thank you!” He clasped his hands, practically crying with relief. At least… until he heard more snickering from behind him. Hubert turned around, and saw the two imps coming to collect him again. “...W-Wait…”

Satan just grinned, as he sat himself upon the crumbling palace once more. “Never let it be said I’m not merciful. At least, not less merciful than the old fool you wasted your life praying to every Sunday.” He lifted his hand, “Bring out the next prisoner!”

Chapter Text

Vaggie stood by the gate of the hotel, spear casually nestled in her arm, and looked up at the shadowy scarlet of the sky. More souls than she'd ever seen before were raining down into Hell, and so the overlords were growing stronger. It was a bloodbath out there, literally and figuratively, as thousands of souls were agreeing to be bound to the existing rulers of Hell. But some were managing to follow the signs that Charlie had put up: promises of safety and sanctuary and, just maybe, a second shot at Heaven.

Some… like the couple that were rounding the corner across the street. Vaggie gave them a nod and motioned with her head. They began to quicken their pace.

There was a snarl behind them. They looked back in horror and began to run.

Oh shit.

Vaggie gripped both her spear and the gate, "Come on," she began to whisper. Her voice kept rising, "Come on, come on, come on!"

The frightened fresh-faced mortals sprinted forward across the street. A more established sinner was chasing them.

"Come on, come on come on COME ON!"

The moment they crossed the threshold she yanked the bars shut behind them, just in time to catch a snarling werewolf-like monster. Vaggie quickly raised her spear but the demon simply raged in fury at the gates, shaking them but not near breaking them.

"Fuck…" Vaggie turned to look at their newest refugees. They were clinging to each other, each of them still relatively humanoid but with horns and wings and a tail now. "You guys okay?"

There was a crash like lightning outside the gate, before a gratingly familiar voice answered her instead: "I don't know, they are in there after all…"

God, this fucking guy. Vaggie turned around, making sure to position herself between their two newly saved souls… and Vox, standing so smug amidst the gory remains of the sinner that had just been pursuing them. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry? I thought this was a place where all sinners were welcomed!" He put a hand to his chest, pretending to be offended. "And to think I had had a change of heart, and was going to come be rehabilitated. Guess I'll just give up that dream then…"

"Cut the shit. Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Like what?! Try to escape?! Last I checked, your girlfriend's daddy has us all under lock and key here!" His eyes flitted to the pair behind her, and his face turned smug. "Oh yeah, this hotel here? It's run by the Devil's daughter. She didn't put that on the signs, now did she?"

Vaggie heard them give a whimper of fear, and she turned to face them again. "It's not like that. She's actually really nice, she's not going to hurt you. She wants to help you, help everyone. Everyone who'll accept it, at least…"

She returned her glare to Vox, who just chuckled. "Right! Helping people! And she's so good at that too! Tell me, how many months has she been at this whole 'redemption' thing? And how many people has she actually redeemed?"

"We're… working on it!"

"Oh don't you dare use that language on me. I'm a fucking CEO, I'm fluent in bullshit." Then he addressed the pair again. "You want to know something that's not bullshit though? For seven years, Heaven has been coming down and killing sinners as they please. And they did it because, again, her girlfriend's daddy allowed it. Then suddenly they change their mind, they tried to 'fight back' right here at the hotel. You know when that was? Just a few days before Heaven decides it's time for the apocalypse. It was their fault that-"

"SHUT UP!" Vaggie jutted her spear between the bars. That actually made his smile falter as he recoiled. She loved to see it. "It was NOT her fault! It was a coincidence!"

"…I suppose so," Vox began to recompose himself, adjusting his suit. "Correlation isn't causation, as the smart men say. But… a smarter man knows it's still a good place to start."

"Leave. Now."

"I'm just saying! Either the Morningstars are scheming with Heaven to throw all of us under the bus—"

"I said LEAVE!"

"—or, dear Charlie really was stupid enough to provoke Heaven!" Still addressing the other sinners, he turned and pointed at Heaven up in the sky, "And that means in six weeks, when those exorcists come down to skewer us all, where is the first place they're gonna go?" And he lowered his hand, to point at the hotel.

"Don't listen to him," Vaggie growled. "He just wants your souls for his own!"

"Well, how about that? Go ahead, do you trust the man who's telling you the truth and lets you make your own decisions after listening to all sides? Or do you trust the woman who has to resort to threats and telling you to not trust what you hear and see? If you ever have a change of heart, and get a chance to escape…" His screen changed to his logo, "VoxTek will be waiting with open arms!"

With that he dematerialized, lightning disappearing into a nearby street camera, leaving Vaggie to comfort a pair of terrified sinners.

"Love you sweetie!" Millie gave Moxxie a kiss on his cheek. Then she stooped to do the same to Mackie. "And don't you cause trouble today, you hear?"

The baby just buzzed her lips, reaching for her mommy's axe.

"Soon, okay? Maybe we'll get you a little toy axe for Sinsmas next month."

"A little practice one!" Moxxie nuzzled Mackie's cheek playfully, before looking back at Millie. "Hopefully they won't even need you today."

"I dunno, it'd be nice to feel useful for once. Well, seeya!"

With a playful salute, and her axe over her shoulder, Millie sauntered down to the boulevard leading to the Strip. What was left of the Strip, at least. The little neighborhood they'd decided to settle down in was just near the northern tip of the district; rows upon rows of little houses, nothing too fancy, but just right for an influx of hellborn eager to claim their little slice of the surface. It almost felt like a TV show, seeing their new neighbors outside milling about admiring their property. Mostly incubi and succubi of course, since this was Asmodeus' territory, but still a few other folks of different species mixed in.

Closer to the Strip… that's where the apartments were. Millie couldn't help but smirk as she neared the bland housing blocks that nobody wanted and therefore had been designated for the humans. After spending years having to play nice for sinners, to cede whenever they wanted something, it did her heart good to see humans crowding the balconies or moping listlessly in their doorways. A couple of sharks swept past her, seemingly taking note before continuing on. Despite Asmodeus' control, apparently a number of these blocks had been snatched up by a hellborn tycoon. How Greed Ring of them, she thought to herself. She'd sure hate to be living here! For a number of reasons…

Finally she'd reached the boulevard. Millie now stood at the foot of a spire that towered above the rest of the skyline. There was nowhere else that could possibly be Asmodeus' abode. She sauntered inside, through the lobby and gambling floor still crawling with demons, all the way to the incubi bouncers at the elevator. "Mildred Knolastname, here to report in!" And she was allowed on, speeding up and up the tower, all the way to the top. The door opened, and… Millie would never say this out loud for obvious reasons, but Asmodeus had way more style than Satan did.

A rotating restaurant had been outfitted into a massive office with windows facing in every direction. In the center of the space was a projection of a globe before a large desk. Right now the office was filled with incubi and succubi, excepting only herself. It was a very casual scene. Yeah, this was going to be quick again.

"Alriiight," Asmodeus now stepped into view, dressed in only his bathrobe. "At this point you know the drill, let's get this over with. Roll call, reporting in, Antonio?"

"Hey," he nodded.

"Ariadne?"

"Yeah," a succubus responded without looking up from her phone.

"Brianna, Carter, Chelsea, Dominick…"

Asmodeus began to rattle off the names without even pausing, already sounding half-asleep. Only Millie put in any kind of enthusiasm when her name was called. Come on, if she'd known that they would be so lax here, she would've had them stay where they were in Flauros' legion!

"Okay, all present, uh…" He sighed. "'Troops', uh, stay in place and keep an eye out for anything suspicious. Alright, dismissed, fall out, get out of here."

The same thing as three days ago, and Moxxie had had the same experience twice already. Millie began to return to the elevator.

"Oh actually. Millie?"

She whirled around.

Asmodeus pressed his palms together, approaching her. "I could use an imp right now. There's an important mission, but it'll take you outside the barrier. Are you okay with that?"

"Am I?!" She gripped her axe and flashed a manic grin. "Point me at some skulls and I'll fuckin' split 'em for you!"

"Ah… hahaha, no. No no, nothing like that. Hopefully." Asmodeus got distracted by Fizzarolli tugging on his robe and saying something about someone waiting for him. "I don't have time to explain the whole thing right now, but you'll get the mission on the way. But I have you working with someone you know, it should go smoothly!"

With a smile he gestured at a succubus… and Millie clenched her axe handle tighter as she did indeed recognize the face. She did her best to hide her distaste. "Hiiiii, Verosika!"

Verosika was equally pleased to see her.

Within minutes they were in a former police SUV, taking the freeway southwest out of town. Millie looked out the passenger window. They passed a huge unfinished casino tower, the dirt around its base only partially paved. Massive trucks sat unmanned, unclaimed. Minutes later, they rolled past a military base that they'd overrun. A trio of imps clung to the turret of a tank as it roared in circles through the desert, as a baphomet was trying to direct them with a pair of glowing wands. She gave a smirk, "Oh, I gotta give that a try…"

She could practically hear Verosika roll her eyes. No matter.

"Well, Ozzie said you were gonna fill me in? I'm still waitin'!"

"Your mission is that you're gonna wait in the fucking car."

"Oh FUCK you! He wanted me on this mission for a reason! Let me guess, we're going somewhere dangerous, and he needs me to protect you. Someone who's better at killin' than fuckin'."

"One, I can be perfectly deadly if I need to be. Two, the moment he put you on the mission you started fantasizing about cutting people's heads off, so I think he's already regretting it."

"Excuse me? I said I'd 'split them open', not cut 'em off. There's a difference, sweetie."

Millie could see that she was getting under her skin. "Well that's even worse. I actually have something important to do and I told Ozzie I didn't need an escort!"

"So I was right then." She leaned her elbow on the door, feeling quite smug, even moreso as Verosika silently fumed. Her axe on her lap, she began inspecting it as she continued. "Gotta pick something up then? Scout out somewhere? We gonna be making an attack finally?"

Verosika glared at Millie… but finally gave in. "We need to clear a route from here to LA. Primm is a town about an hour outside the city, Ozzie wants to work with them to keep the highway clear."

"Work with them? Why wouldn't they, bunch of Greed Ringers or something?"

"…They're not hellborn there, Millie."

At that her face changed. "Wait, why would WE work with THEM?! It's our planet now! They're gonna do whatever we tell 'em to, or we CRUSH them!"

"I can't fucking deal with this right now. We just are, okay? Ozzie said so."

She couldn't help herself. "No wonder Blitzø broke up with you."

Verosika's nails dug into the steering wheel. "…You are so lucky right now that your sin is Wrath, or I'd slam these brakes and rip you in half."

"Mmmmm, I'd like to see you try."

But Verosika just shut her mouth and kept focused on the road as it narrowed to only two lanes, and began to snake through the desert, coasting along the base of some low mountains. Millie dropped her needling and stared out the window again. The base of the pentagram bubble was quickly approaching. Verosika slowed the SUV, they were almost upon it…

There was only a slight catch in their momentum, like landing on a trampoline before passing through it. Now they were outside the actual territory of Hell. Well, technically all this belonged to Hell, but it was just a matter of making sure everyone knew it. Sure enough, the dark clouds still hugged close to the ground, churning and flashing lightning. Besides that though, the vistas were beautiful. With its open horizons and arid shrubs and gentle mountains the land honestly reminded her of the Wrath Ring. Oh her parents would love it up here, maybe they could get a house and bring the whole family up, get all their livestock through as well…

"We need to clear a route to LA so that we can have a route to meet up with Satan's folks there," Verosika suddenly spoke again. "Portaling everything in from Hell or between cities is too slow, there's only so many Asmodean crystals to go around. That's why we need to get this route opened up."

"…Okaaaaay," Millie drummed her fingers on the door. "…That still doesn't explain why we're asking the humans nicely to let us through."

"Mildred, what exactly do you think we're going to do with the humans? After all this is over, we win the war and we stop Heaven and everything, what are we gonna do with them?"

"I dunno." With a shrug she lifted her axe, spun it around in her grasp, "I kinda thought we'd just enslave 'em all or somethin'."

"You really are Satan's creatures."

"Well if we just kill them all, we won't have any humans left!"

"Okay there are other things we can do with them. Look, Asmodeus wants to try to rule them. Like, actually be their leader. So this is a diplomatic mission. Celebrity goodwill tour. Gonna win 'em over…" she smirked, "with sex appeal."

It was Millie's turn to roll her eyes. "Right, I'm guessing that's my job then?"

Verosia laughed. "You are hilarious, Mildred. But no. You're here because Ozzie's still worried someone's gonna try to kill me, when I told him I could fend for myself."

"Eh, we'll see. I'm better at killin' things than keepin' 'em alive. Plus, if you want me to make the effort, you better start bein' nice to me."

"Fine. Please, go fuck yourself."

"Hmmmmm," Millie gave a little grin, before turning to look out the window again. There was a turn-off to a little dirt road, and a rusty gate keeping it shut. The only such exit for the past few miles. "Why does he even care that much about humans anyways?"

"I don't know if it's really that. The way I see it, can't really get people hard if they're slaves. Well… unless they're a really specific type of freak." Okay, Verosika did get an actual laugh from Millie with that. "It's easier for us to do our jobs if we're at least kind of nice to them."

"But that's still so boring! I still like my idea better."

"I'm sure you do…"

Another wide curve around a mountain, and Millie could see it. The wooden strutes of a roller coaster jutted from the landscape around the 'town', though that was a generous term for it. A single road passed over the highway and they exited onto it. The whole place fit into the four corners resulting from the intersection: a handful of fast food restaurants, a large gas station, a strip mall, and three sprawling casinos. One of those casinos was connected to that roller coaster. At the moment, of course, it wasn't running. Up above, the infernal cloud cover was just starting to thin and fray. Millie could feel herself go a little more on edge. It should still be enough to keep most of the humans' air missions away, but some of their higher end craft might be able to bear it. Not like they were a priority target, right?

Verosika lingered at the exit ramp, searching the area. "There," she turned right and followed the road leading to the truck stop. It was choked with abandoned traffic, doors still hanging open on some cars. Truck trailers filled almost every spot in the lot and then some. "This is perfect. These were all supposed to be delivered to Vegas. If we offer to pay them for it, at least some of them will agree."

Millie wasn't so sure about it, but she didn't say anything. Her heart started to pound faster and faster though. It was the thrill of the hunt again, it was just like another contract. Except now, the entire world knew she was here. And the entire world… was missing. Not a single human had appeared in view since they pulled off the freeway. Even in the wide windows of the truck stop's convenience store, shelves and racks had been arranged to act as cover. Verosika was just unbuckling, and she flipped down the visor to eye herself.

"Shit, gotta touch up. First impressions matter after all. I'd offer you some of my makeup but, let's be real… there's only so much that'll fix all 'that.'"

Millie didn't respond. Her eyes were on the windows. She could tell that Verosika was disappointed she didn't get a rise from her, and just went back to the mirror. There was movement through the glass… the door opened. A rifle peeked out—

"GET DOWN!" Millie grabbed Verosika and sank to the floorboard. Three shots rang out. The windshield shattered, and two holes were punched where the succubus' body had been a moment before. She gritted her teeth. "Alright, now we do this MILLIE'S way!" She reached up and grasped for the door handle.

"No! No, no," Verosika grabbed the loudspeaker microphone still installed on the dashboard, "WE'RE HERE TO TALK! We're here to talk! We come in peace, or whatever, FUCK! Stop shooting us!"

Millie could just make out an old male voice from inside, "Go back to Hell you motherfuckers! We're not letting you take us alive!"

"Verosika, I'm going after them! Wait until I give you the all clear!"

"You're gonna get yourself killed, dipshit!" Shit, she was right. Verosika went back on the speaker, "You know who I fucking am?! I'm Verosika Mayday! I'm not here for you, but if you kill me then ALL of Hell's gonna wipe you off the fucking map! Now calm your FUCKING tits!"

Her words hung in the air… there were no further gunshots.

"Now can I get out of the car without you assholes shooting me?! We just want to talk! Talk, with words, you know how to do that?!"

More silence again. Millie clenched her axe tightly. She whispered, "Why the fuck didn't Ozzie give me a gun?!"

"We don't need one! Can you just stay calm and not immediately kill the first thing you see?!"

"THEY opened fire on US!"

"Yeah because they're scared! But if we can just—"

"We are sending someone out to talk! We have seven armed men watching him, if you try anything funny we WILL open fire!"

Verosika went back to her loudspeaker, "Okay, thank you! I'm getting out of my car now! My partner's gonna come back up too, but she's not gonna do anything, she's just here to protect me!"

Great, her first actual mission against the humans and she was being relegated to timeout. Millie had half a mind to just sneak out and launch an ambush anyways, really get some blood flowing, but… they did have at least one gun, and probably seven if they weren't bluffing. Meanwhile, Verosika opened her door, pushing it all the way, and began to emerge from the vehicle. No gunshots.

Millie climbed back into her seat, carefully, her eyes flicking from the meeting to the windows to try and see where all the guns were. One still peeked out from the main door, as a large man with black pants and a garish red-and-yellow polo stepped forward. He had a matching round head and a goatee and glasses. Despite his efforts to appear stoic, he was visibly scared shitless.

Yet still, he stepped forward without flinching. His eyes fixed on Verosika who was approaching him with an extra little sway in her hips. The man stopped once they were only about six feet apaart. "Okay, Let's talk."

"Finally. One of you's smart enough to try talking to the pretty girl…" She had her hand up, fingers folded in, showing off her nails. Even though she could only see from behind her, Millie could tell she was giving her best 'fuck-me' smile. From the way the human's eyes were moving, it was working. "Look, Ozzie just wants to make a deal. We need to use the station, and if we try to take it by force, things are gonna get ugly. So, agree to work for Asmodeus, and things go a lot more smoothly. Besides, these things gotta get out of here, right? Ozzie will pay for them himself in Vegas, whatever the drivers were gonna get paid? They get out of here, we get some supplies we need. I call that a good deal. C'mon, the quicker we make this happen here… the more time we can have to chat?"

The man visibily flushed, biting his lip, looking away. "Ma'am, you're… you are very, very flattering. But…" He took a deep breath. "We're not going anywhere."

"Please, you're all out here without any power. You don't need to put yourselves through that."

He simply pointed to the other side of the freeway, "Solar cells, actually. And on the California side too. We appreciate your concern," he said firmly, "but we are not going anywhere."

Verosika's wings fluttered a bit, a sign of frustration. "Wellll, I don't see any farms around here. How much food do you have in there, and how many people? How long can you last?"

"We can make do."

Verosika took a deep breath in. Oh, her patience was being tested. Millie scanned through the windows again. This time she could see eyes peeking between the shelves and racks, watching the exchange go on.

"You'll have to forgive me, but if you actually do want to strike a deal here, you have to tell us the catch."

"The catch? What catch, big guy?"

He tilted his head. Then gestured with both hands. "You're demons. It's what you do, you make a deal that sounds really good and then you trick us. We've been watching everything on TV, you know. Suddenly you're worried about whether we have electricity, whether we have food? If we go with you back to Vegas, we are not getting the warm welcome you say we will. I don't even want to know what you do have planned for us. But we're not falling for it."

Verosika took a step back. Her posture changed… "Alright. I'll cut the shit then." The man braced himself. "Millie? Step out of the car, would you? NO KILLING."

Damn. She'd almost gotten excited. But, she stepped out of her door and sauntered around to stand beside Verosika. Leaning on her axe, she looked up at the human man. He had an alarmed look on his face. Millie just shot him a nod, "Sup?"

"This, is an imp. They love killing things. You said you've been watching everything on TV? There's another army on the other end of this freeway, with a lot more imps, and they are not gonna give you the same deal Asmodeus will. They will burn this gas station and cook you alive in the flames. Do you wanna deal with the sin of wrath? Or the sin of lust?"

The man scanned Verosika's face very closely. Then he looked back at Millie. Then the SUV, as if looking to see if anything else was going to come out. Then back to Verosika. Millie could tell, he was starting to actually consider it.

"If you don't believe me, I can get Asmodeus on the phone for you. Honestly I don't totally get why he's doing this either. But you can talk to him."

"…Let me talk to the rest of the folks inside."

He retreated back in. Verosika sighed, shaking her head and turning to lean against the front of the SUV. "Fucking hell, they really don't listen, huh?"

"I'm just sayinnnn'," Millie spun her axe around again, "I can make 'em listen!"

Verosika ignored it. Millie felt very satisfied with herself though, and looked through the windows again. A couple had pushed aside some boxes in order to get a look through the glass; the moment the imp's gaze swung over them, they retreated out of sight. Millie stopped spinning her axe.

It was just a matching mustache, the hair off to either side, just a coincidence. But from the corner of her eye… two of the humans inside kinda looked like her parents.

The mess hall of Hope's Peak filled past capacity. Soldiers in fatigues and civilians in all manner of clothing squeezed together at the tables. Above their heads, regularly placed television screens showed the news. Colonel Quentin Xavier stood and watched one of these screens. Incredible how after only a week, it already felt… normal, to see the inhuman monsters racing through the streets. The Sydney Opera House sported profane graffiti across its side. Imps scaled the walls of tenement flats in Bangladesh. And now the weatherman was gesturing at a map not of cold fronts and pressure systems, but of a massive red blob stretching from Chicago to New England, from Toronto to Virginia, and warning it was spreading…

"Jesus Christ," Quentin heard a man grumbling at the table near him, "why can't they just serve the food normally?"

"Shhhh!" A female voice, "It's good for us to do this! It's good for the kids too."

"Ridiculous, I get yelled at for being one minute late to mopping duty, but they can take their sweet time with dinner?!"

Quentin kept his mouth shut.

As if summoned by the complaint, the screens finally switched over to Jackson Shaw sitting behind his desk. His hands were clasped before him, and he was flanked by a pair of American flags. When he spoke, his voice carried its usual solemn tone even through the tinny speakers around the room: "My friends, before we have dinner tonight, I have a very grave announcement to make. We have a traitor in our midst."

Quentin perked up at that. Wait, he was not informed of this? What was going on? A murmur rippled through the crowd. Shaw raised a hand to the camera and gestured forward. At that cue, a pair of military police walked in from the main entrance. In between them stumbled a woman. Her arms were locked in theirs and she was scared out of her mind. Quentin looked back and forth from them to the monitor.

"This woman came to us, and we brought her in, accepted her into our sanctuary, asked nothing of her, the same kindness we have offered all of you. And in return, we found her in the pantry earlier today, trying to steal from the entire community."

The people's concern curdled into a simmering disgust. And she didn't help her case as she blurted out, "I'm sorry, okay?! I was just really hungry!"

"In this time of crisis, when we all have to cooperate and sacrifice, there will be no tolerance for crime. Much less a crime against the community. As you eat your dinner tonight, I want you to take the time to see what a criminal looks like, and remember her face. As for her, she's already had more than her fair share for the day, so she will watch as you eat."

Quentin strode between two tables to the middle aisle of the room. At the front of the mess hall, the woman was being handcuffed to a radiator. Her eyes darted around, looking for any sympathetic face. Finding none she sunk to the floor, her eyes downcast, one arm still chained to the wall. This was all Quentin could see as Shaw began to speak again:

"Heavenly Father, as we continue our daily struggles, please grant us the wisdom and virtue to act according to Your word. As we face enemies inside and out, we rely on You for strength and courage. Even in this difficult time, through Your mercy and love we have found our way to each other, so that we may continue to have hope. We thank You, O Lord, for the food we are about to share, for the light You bring to the darkness, and for all the blessings you have granted us. In Christ's name we pray. Amen."

But Quentin had already left the room. The governor's voice echoed through the base, following Quentin up the stairs, all the way to what was supposed to be the commander's office. Moments after Shaw had finished, Quentin burst into his office.

"—tonight, the arsenal should be ready to use…" Shaw had just been speaking with those two agents and the three cherubim that always lingered near him. The governor looked up at him. "Commander Xavier. Something appears to be troubling you."

He wanted so badly to slam his hands on the desk, to demand what the hell had just happened, but he managed to keep himself cool. "Sir, I was not informed of any theft that occurred on this base."

"I'm very sorry to hear that. But you already have so much to worry about, I simply thought I would handle it myself."

"Sir…" he decided to probe, "I should have been informed that there was a trial, or a tribunal, or something happening."

"Well there we go. There was no trial or tribunal to inform you of."

There it was. Quentin glanced at the others around, "No trial. No tribunal. Governor, forgive me, but this is unacceptable."

"President." For God's sake, this again. "We have enough problems without squabbling over succession laws. And I do forgive you, Colonel. I understand that you're struggling to accept the reality that we live in nowadays, a reality where the souls of all humanity are at risk."

"That's not an excuse to just throw our morals to the wind!"

"That," Shaw began to stand up from his desk, "we are in agreement on then."

"No we are not! What you did to that poor woman was cruel and unusual punishment!"

Shaw looked at him, then to the monitors on his desk. He clicked on something and turned his screen around. Security footage of the mess hall, with the offending woman in the corner. Everyone else was continuing their meal as normal. "They don't seem to agree with you."

"What? 'They'?"

"If what I was doing was so outrageous, then the people in that room would be outraged. But no one stopped the police from dragging her down the middle of the tables. And no one is helping her now, because they know she did wrong and must atone for it."

"Right, I mean," the sheep cherub spoke up, "she did try to steal food."

Quentin still didn't feel comfortable around these three. "This still isn't justice though!"

"Isn't it? Her theft was returned, and everyone has been informed of the crime that was committed against them. She will be handcuffed there for one meal and then allowed to rejoin the community. That seems like justice served to me. Or…" Shaw tilted his head, "are you still stuck in a mindset that 'justice' requires months of paperwork and procedure? Months that, frankly, we do not have. Would you find it more just to have her locked in a room while we think about maybe bringing her to trial? To strike a deal behind closed doors? To keep the peace by not telling people the truth?"

"Stop it," Quentin backed away, his heart hammering. Of course he'd heard the political attack ads labeling Shaw all manner of unsavory things, but he thought they were just that. Attack ads, hot air. Hearing him now though… "This isn't how we do things. It's not right and you know it."

Again he gestured at the screen. "The people in our care seem to think it's right."

"It's not."

Shaw looked back at the two agents flanking him. They were busy hunched over a tablet, focusing on the latest updates from the invasion. Then back to Quentin. "I didn't see you at service, by the way."

"Don't change the subject, that has nothing to do with it."

"I mean nothing by it!" Shaw chuckled. "Just an observation that I felt like bringing up to you."

"If it's meant as an attack on my character, I assure you I'm a very upstanding man. I'm just not—"

Quentin stopped himself, glancing awkwardly at the three cherubim.

"Not what, Colonel?"

"…I'm not a religious man, is what I was going to say."

The trio visibly soured. Shaw came around the desk, approaching him. "I think now might be the time to change that. The Last Judgment is six weeks away. It sounds like you have a lot to make up for…"

"Governor," Quentin made one more bid to get back on track, "all I came in here to ask, is to let me execute my own duties as commander of your national guard. It is imperative for the smooth operations of the base. Our base."

But Shaw leaned closer. Quentin felt like he was being examined as a specimen. "…I can tell what you're thinking. You consider me a tyrant. An oppressor. You're also convinced that if you could have it your way, everyone would be dazzled by your reason. But mark my words, if we allowed the people in that room to choose, they would pick me. That's what they don't teach you at boot camp, that's what they don't teach you at officer school."

It was all spoken with a quiet tongue. Yet Quentin felt each word cut into him. He tried to take himself back to the days where the drill seargeant screaming into his face to test his resolve. Go back to that, put that shell back on, just wait for it to end… until, he saw the security footage again. And he couldn't help but feel a small leap of vindication. "Governor. The people might not be so fond of your justice after all."

Shaw turned to the screen too. A man had risen from his seat, plate in hand, and was walking towards the chained woman. She looked up at him as he brought the food over to her.

"See? They do feel bad for her."

The man stood above her. And then he turned over his plate, dumping its contents across her hair and clothes, before callously tossing the empty dish onto her.

Quention's pride collapsed. He didn't meet Shaw's stare as the governor turned back to him.

"If we are going to insist on proper titles, then… that will be all for now, Acting Commander…"

Chapter Text

Art done by me!

"Dad—"

Loona's eyes snapped open from her nightmare. The scream on her lips became a whisper in her room. Her heart was pounding. The reapers, they weren't coming for her. She wasn't being dragged away again. 

She was okay. 

Slowly, Loona shifted to sit up on her bed. The shutters kept out most of the reddish glow of the pentagram in the sky, but there was still enough light to just make her room visible. She'd already begun pinning up new posters, after tossing out everything that had been left behind here. It was their house now after all. Her house, her dad's house, Stolas' house. 

Their house. 

With a groan she grabbed her phone and opened up Sinstagram. Her feed started with something from Verosika Mayday, snapping a selfie in front of some bumfuck truck stop. 'Mission Accomplished! Welcome to @ozzieman's kingdom, bitches!' Behind her was Millie, posing with her axe, and a bunch of very confused humans coming out into the open. Posted yesterday. 

Loona scrolled. Mammon was riding in a Lamborghini in the heart of Dubai, the glittering towers all around him, sunglasses on his grinning face. The description was spammed with links for some shit he was selling. She scrolled more. Vortex with a massive fanged grin, on a beach in Brazil beneath the churning cloud cover. He only captioned it with a winking kiss emoji. Scrolled again. Bee flashing a peace sign as she posed in front of a massive wall of junk food, ‘EAT UP BITCHESSSS! #surfacelife’. 

Know what, she should add to it. Loona shifted on her bed, turned her camera on, and flashed her best cocky grin. She could see the room behind her. "Nice new room I grabbed!" Maybe a few laughing emojis, add on #surfacelife as well. Post it. Yeah, a few likes were already coming in…

Just the same as it'd been in Hell. 

Loona swiped further and further down her algorithm. That dalmatian guy she'd run into during the mustering, he'd ended up in Flauros' legion too, he was looting a Tesco. Whatever that was. Sharks flaunting their newly nabbed wealth, baphomets reclining in penthouse suites, imps cackling as they burned anything in sight. It was everything they had dreamed the living world would be. 

A reminder ping. Shit, that's right, she had to 'report in' today. All the trouble to get dressed up and go there and do nothing. What was even the fucking point? 

She coped with the frustration by still scrolling. Scrolling. Scrolling, sitting on her bed in the dim room. The rush she felt from her post was already beginning to fade…

The whole house shuddered from banging at the front door. Moxxie screamed, "STOLAS! HELP! IT'S AN EMERGENCY! MACKIE IS SICK!"

Oh, that jolted her into action alright. Still in her pajamas, Loona rushed into the living room to find Stolas already flinging open the door.

"Oh thank Satan! Please, you're a dad right?! Can you fix her?!"

Moxxie thrust the baby imp into Stolas' talons. The owl took her carefully. Mackie stared back up, cooing softly, as peaceful as ever. "Ah… what seems to be the matter?"

"It, it, look, here," Moxxie patted down his pockets until he pulled out that stupid book again, flipping to a page and desperately pointing at it. "'At four months, chuckles when you try to make them laugh.' She's four months and a day and she hasn't laughed once! WHAT ARE WE DOING WRONG!?"

Loona and Stolas both stared at him. Blitzø emerged from the bedroom in loose tee and shorts, already fuming. "That fucking does it. Mox, gimme that book."

"What, no! No it's important, it's helping me keep Mackie healthy!"

"It's keeping ME from MY health! Give it to me!" 

Blitzø actually marched over and began trying to grab it from Moxxie's hands, prompting him to circle around Stolas' legs for cover. "No! No! Without Dr. Phillip I won't be a good dad!"

"Yeah?" He stormed around Stolas, glaring as Moxxie tried to escape again. "Well I'm gonna burn that fucking book, and then I'm gonna hunt down that dipshit goat and kill him myself for the CRIME of plaguing my fucking life!" He lunged, fakeout, and darted the other way. The pair of them circled Stolas who kept watching, his owlish head turning all the way around before finally having to rotate back. Loona just stood there, rubbing her forehead. Great, she'd come out of her room for a stupid false alarm… 

"Blitzø!" Stolas finally tried to cut them off. "Blitzø! That's enough, I'll go help them!"

"Seriously?! We have plans this morning! We need to get the new office ready to open!"

"If they need help with their baby, the least I can do is offer my experience. Besides, the office is almost ready."

"Fuuuuuuck, fine! Loona, it's you and me then. Get dressed, we gotta—"

"Can't. Gotta go to the spire today."

"Okay, well, you're coming right back, right?"

"I dunno. Millie actually got a mission yesterday, I might get one today."

"Well if you don't, you're coming right back. Right?"

She shrugged her shoulders. 

"Well, it'd make your Dad very very happy to have his daughter helping him set up his new place of business, okay?"

Ugh, he was shooting her those big puppy dog eyes again, why did he have to act like this? "Whatever, I'm gonna get ready to go." Some things really never changed, did they?

By the time the next hour struck, Blitzø was in his new office building, getting it spruced up. He'd thrown open the windows to get the last of the lingering human smell out of the carpets and walls. The cool breeze of a Mojave winter frisked through, and he couldn't help but give a happy shiver. After spending years a few degrees from broiling in Hell, the refreshing chill of the surface world made him feel like royalty. 

"Okay," he quietly spoke to himself, and began walking through his thoughts. "Client comes in from the lobby, steps off the elevator, right? Maybe we put photos on the walls of our best jobs, Mox can make himself useful with a camera or something, he likes shit like that. Do we put a reception desk right in front here? Or at the end of the hall, so they walk past and see us all working? Maybe me at the end of the hall? Big dick energy, having me right there, but then no privacy, maybe not such a good—"

The window at the end of the floor exploded.

 Blitzø broke from his daydreaming. What the fuck?! He stayed frozen for a couple of seconds, waiting for what would happen next…

A small rock flew up from outside and shattered the next window over. 

"What the shit was that?!" His boots crunched over the broken glass as he raced to the window at the far edge of the floor. 

Down in the parking lot was a human kid: a girl with curly hair, another rock in her hand, and eyes shocked to see him. Immediately she tried to run.

"Oh you little fucker!" Blitzø crouched before pouncing from the second floor, somersaulting to his feet when he hit the ground. From there only a few steps before he grabbed her arm. "What the fuck you think you're doing to my property?! OWWW!"

She'd turned and kicked him in the shin. Hard. Even with his boots, the blow hit him where it hurt, and he stood there bouncing on one leg in pain as she tried to switch tactics and flee for the bushes by the building. Like she was going to lose him there. Blitzø snarled, pulled out his pistol, made sure to deliberately aim wide—

The gun fired. Glass shattered, the bullet struck the ground-level window right beside her head. That made the girl freeze. Shoulders hunched, panting, not daring to take another step as the rapport of his gun echoed around them. Blitzø limped closer, glowering at the vandal. She must have been around twelve or so.  "Oh, oh ho ho ho, do you have any fucking idea what you just did?"

Slowly she turned her head to face him. Obviously she was scared… but her eyes glowered. "Yeah. I just broke your fucking windows. I’m not stupid."

 Blitzø had to admit, the attitude made his own sadistic grin falter. "Two of my…" He paused, looking at the pane he'd shot. "Three of my windows! On my fucking business! I couldn't have it for two weeks without you dipshits already ruining it! Well you are so fucked now!"

Okay, that got to her. A little bit, at least. Still though, she snorted, defiantly meeting his gaze. "Yeah, well, it's not gonna un-break your window, dipshit. What are you gonna do about that?"

Holy fuck. Of all the humans who didn't run crying like a baby at the sight of his fangs and claws… "Ohhhh no. I'll tell you what you are gonna do about it, shithead." Keeping her at gunpoint, he jabbed his finger at the building. "You're gonna clean up the mess you made. And in return, I won't fucking kill you. Deal?"

She looked at the building, then back at him. "Fine." 

The girl began to trudge towards the door, but Blitzø clicked his tongue. "Ah ah ah, you always shake a demon's hand when you make a deal. What, they didn't teach you that at Sunday school?" 

With a sigh she turned, and accepted his outstretched hand. "…Didn't even go to stupid Sunday school."

"Huh, guess we found out why you got left down here!" Blitzø cackled at his barb. 

Minutes later, he was standing with arms crossed, supervising the human girl as she took a broom to the first floor mess. Bristles whisked over the carpet, bits of glass clinked in the cheap plastic dustpan. Blitzø leaned against the wall. His little vandal looked up at him, as if to check he was still watching. He gave a cheeky wave. She went back to cleaning, but also looked around the office. "What even is this place?"

"What, an office building? You too stupid to know what an office is?"

She rolled her eyes. "You said it's a business, right? I don't think you're the computer design guys on the sign outside."

"Oh yeah, gotta get that swapped out, heheh. No no, we are I.M.P., Immediate Murder Professionals!" 

"We?" She pointedly looked at the very empty office space. 

"Okay, not 'we'," he gestured between himself and her. "I mean the team. Yeah, I got a whole fuckin' team, and I pay them, it's a real fucking company. And we kill people better than anyone else."

"Hmmm." The girl shook her head. "Wow. You must be making a fortune right now, huh?"

"Nah nah, we get hired by sinners usually, but… actually wait, I… oh FUCK!" Blitzø clapped his hands to his head. "Oh I should have tried to get a contract with the sins! Christ on a stick, I pissed away so much MONEY!" 

In his fury he grabbed a nearby desk and shoved it over. The girl just kept watching, still cleaning. Blitzø caught her watching him. 

"What are you staring at? Keep working!"

"I am just looking at you. I can sweep and look at you. Besides," she got snooty, "it's polite to look at someone if they're talking to you, and I don't want to get in trouble."

"Do not take that tone with me!" Blitzø stormed over to her; she stopped sweeping and straightened up, looking down at him. "First of all, if you gave a shit about being polite, Heaven wouldn't have dumped your sorry ass down here with me. Second, I am a hellborn. You," he gave an evil smile, and tapped her nose with a claw, much to her unamusement, "are a fleshy, smelly, stupid human, and you gotta do what I say."

She recoiled away from him finally, still scowling. "Like hell I do."

"Yeah, exactly!"

"Oh for—you know what I meant!" She picked up the dustpan. "Where do I dump this shit then?"

Blitzø kicked a trashcan over to her, leftover from when the former employees had fled the place. A few more shards here, and now the girl was upstairs. From here they could see over the neighborhoods stretching east, then the desert, then the mountains. Red light radiated from the dome beyond them. "Hate to admit it," Blitzø decided to needle some more, "but you guys actually did have it really good up here. Lot nicer than Hell at least! Shocker, huh?"

"Well, usually that isn't in the way," she gestured her head at the bubble, and the clouds above it. "And also, we usually get to see the sun once in a while."

"Ah they won't keep that there," the imp leaned back against the wall again. "Once we kick the shit out of Heaven, and get you guys under control, we'll open it up again. And it'll be Hell on Earth. 'Cause it's our fuckin' turn to be on top!"

The girl kept sweeping, pointedly ignoring him. Blitzø kept watching her. Come on, act at least a little scared? 

"Speaking of, why the fuck did you think it was a good idea to do this, huh?" He nodded at the shards on the floor.

She sighed, "I don't know, I was bored. There's not any school, and I couldn't be in the house when my dads were talking to the new landlord."

Blitzø actually perked up at that. "Your dads, huh?"

"Yeah." She stamped her broom on the ground and turned to face him now. There was a glint in her eyes she didn't have before. "My dads. You got a problem with that?"

"Whoa, hey, not at all," he chuckled. "Okay, keep going."

The girl kept glaring at him… but finally she shook her head. "Dad always hated working at this place. He always told Pop his boss was an asshole. I did not know you were in here. I didn't know it was your new business or whatever. I just wanted to come by and give the place an 'up yours' because I thought nobody would care."

Blitzø cocked his head, listening to her talk, watching the way she seemed a split second from spitting fire at him. She was a far cry from the sinners that had been dropped into the Pride Ring all his life, with their unleashed powers. Yet she still acted defiantly. It was like watching a puppy try to play tough. "Huh… turns out God’s favorite little creatures are just as rowdy as a common imp."

She just snorted, turned away, and muttered under her breath, "Bitch…"

"Oh, I heard that!"

"Right! I’m so sorry!" A mad expression of fake ecstasy came over her face as she finally snapped. "I meant to say asshole!"

"Jackass!"

"Douchebag!"

"Pissant!"

"Dipshit!"

"Dickhead!"

"FUCKFACE!"

She roared the last one so loud it made Blitzø's skull tremble. By this point she was panting, teeth gritting, but she wasn't immediately flinching away in regret. No. She stayed there, glaring down at him. The imp folded his arms. "…What's your name?" 

An eyeroll answered him. 

"I'll give you mine. Blitzø, Blitzø Buckzo. Now come on, what was that about being polite?" 

"...I'm Ember."

"You know your way around town, Ember?"

"I… yeah?"

"Good. Get the rest of your shit cleaned up here. I got another job for you."

"Ohhhh no," she started, "our deal was that I'd clean up the glass and then you let me go!"

"Yeah, go do what? Huh? Besides, you said your dad's job was here. It's not any more. Your other dad have a job?"

"He's working on it."

"Long complicated way to say 'no'. Here's the new deal." He disappeared into his own office, and came out carrying a massive stack of posters. "I need someone who knows where to put shit, and so far you're the only human that didn't fucking piss themselves talking to me. So congrats. You're hired into the prestigious role," the papers thumped onto the table, "of 'package monkey'." 

Ember looked at the tower of paper. Then back at Blitzø. "You're gonna actually pay me?"

"Why? You volunteering for free? I would loooove that," his tail swayed. 

Ember didn't find it nearly as funny. With a sigh she grabbed a thick pile of them, felt their heft in her hands. "How much?"

"Twenty bucks for the whole stack."

She tested the weight of them again. "Thirty."

"Twenty-two."

"Twenty-four."

Blitzø narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Twenty-three and a half."

"Fine." With that, she went for the elevator.

Only a few blocks away, Antonio sat in his cheap folding chair at his cheap dining table in the cheap little apartment he and his husband and his daughter had been forced into. His hands were clasped on his thigh. It was the best he could do to hide how scared shitless he was right now. 

Tyler sat next to him, re-reading the contract they’d been given. Across from them sat an imp with a pinstripe suit and a cigar in his hand. A pair of sharks flanked him. He blew out a long stream of smoke. “I know y’mortals aren’t the brightest bunch, but it’s a one-page lease. It ain’t that hard to comprehend.”

“I’m sorry! I just, you know, I want to see what’s in it, t-try to see if there’s anything—”

Tyler cut himself off. That quiver in his voice — hearing it made Tony’s blood boil. If there weren’t armed sharks in every corner of the room he’d tell that little red asshole off. Speaking of, the imp leaned forward. “See if there’s anything… what?”

“Anything… you know, any kind of, like, fine print, or—”

“Any tricks? Any little catches? Why? Because I’m a demon?”

“I, no, I didn’t mean it like that! Honest!”

“Typical,” he shook his head, feigning offense. “I open my heart to you apes, I say I’ll give you a place to lay your head as the world burns around youse, and it’s still not enough.” He looked to the side. “But ain’t that just the way your story goes, huh? How many second chances did Heaven give you, how many times did you fuck it up?” 

“I…” Tyler clearly didn’t have an answer to that. What would someone even say to something like that? Instead, he handed the contract over to Antonio.. It was extremely short, basically just that they would be paying a lot of money for this one-bedroom space. It wouldn’t even be enough space for them, he and Tyler would have to crash in the living room for their kid to have her own bed. 

“You wanna know,” the imp kept rambling, “how many chances my kind had, to get to Paradise?”

Tony looked up at the imp, then at Tyler, who was actually trying to answer, “Ah, I… I imagine not as many?”

“Zero.” The imp made a circle with his fingers, turning back to face them. Tony could see hatred in his eyes: inhuman, infernal eyes that wanted to pierce right through him. The gaze lingered for a few seconds… before he grinned again. “There’s something liberating about it though. When y’don’t have to worry and fret, well, heheh, you get to just enjoy livin’...” 

Tony finally spoke up, careful to keep his voice steady. “We don’t mean any offense, sir.” 

“Please… call me Crimson.”

“We mean no offense, Crimson. We’re just not used to contracts like this being so short. There are usually pages of terms and conditions, legal disclaimers, things like that? So it makes us wary, that’s all.”

The imp cackled. “How about that? So used to gettin’ fucked over by your own kind. Least I’m givin’ you the deal straight, not tryin’ to trick you into thinking I’m doin’ you a favor. Makes you feel any better, last guy who ran this place… gave him a real taste of Hell.”

Crimson snuffed out the last of his cigar directly on their table. Tyler squirmed like he was going to be sick.

“Look, you don’t like it, you’re free to walk away. Really, go ahead.” He tilted his head forward, so the brim of his hat hooded his eyes. “Walk back onto those streets. Roamin’ around, seein’ who’s gonna take you for cheaper. That’s the same fuckin’ deal a human’d give you. I’ll call that my charity work for the day.”

God, that grin. Tony had learned to temper his emotions for years, but the way that imp grinned at them, the way he was practically rubbing it in their faces… and the worst part was that they had no better choice. Most of the other apartments around here had three, four different families crammed together. Asmodeus was trying to get the existing residents into the hotels around the Strip, but of course they couldn’t take away too many of those from the demons pouring in. He glanced to Tyler. If they had this chance now, they should take it.

Plus, the sooner they got this over with… the quicker they could go make sure Ember hadn’t gotten herself in trouble. It was still better she wasn’t here when these goons were, but he wasn’t delusional about how things were out there…

With a sigh he leaned forward, setting the paper on their side of the tabletop. “I need a pen?” 

Crimson slid one from his breast pocket. Right at that point the door opened, and another shark entered. Tyler took the opportunity to lean over and whisper, “Antonio, where are we going to get the rent? My job doesn’t exist any more.”

“We will figure it out. We always do.” He was already signing his name on the line.

“There we go,” the imp accepted both pen and paper back. “Now—” He paused as the newcomer shark bent down and whispered in his ear. Crimson nodded. “Apologies, gentlemen, for a sudden departure. I have a… family reunion, to attend to…”

Chapter Text

Art by @circa1700 on BlueSky!

Stolas sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the couches between Moxxie and Millie, who were similarly seated facing each other. Moxxie had thankfully calmed down, much to Millie's relief, but he still held Mackie out to face him. "Come on, look at Papa! Isn't he so funny?!" He shook his head back and forth wildly, before suddenly pausing with his eyes crossed and tongue sticking out.

Mackie only looked back.

"See?! She's not laughing! How could she not laugh at that?!"

Millie leaned forward, setting a gentle hand on his leg. "Hon, she's only 'late'," she did finger quotes with her free hand, "by a single day. I'm sure she'll be fine!"

"But what if she's not? We should act on it as soon as we know something's wrong, right? Right?!"

He directed the last bit at Stolas, who nodded quietly. "It's very admirable that you're so concerned for your daughter. I think at this stage though, this is an acceptable little hiccup."

"What? What do you mean by that?"

"I mean, while having a timeline in mind can be helpful, things don't always go according to plan. May I?" He held out his hands for Mackie. Moxxie obliged. Stolas folded his arm to cradle her, years-old muscle memory kicking in. The little imp looked up at him. She was just the same size Via had been, though Mackie didn't have nearly as dramatic a growth spurt in her future. Stolas smiled down. "Again, it's a testament to your dedication to her that you have that book and take it so seriously. But sometimes kids just take things at their own pace. Whether they're Goetia, or imps."

Moxxie bit his lip, visibly thinking over Stolas' words. "…You're sure we shouldn't worry right now?"

"I am sure. Please, I've been a father for so long, I… I'm…" He knew that's why the pair even turned to him for help in the first place. Saying it aloud to himself though, Stolas suddenly thought of Octavia, the way she'd turned away with tears in her eyes before the ice blocked her from view… and suddenly he was back in the imps' living room. "Ah, though, you might want a second opinion of course, heheh. I wouldn't say I'm exactly an expert…"

Millie scoffed, waving him down. "Oh please. Stolas, you are so smart, and you've been doin' this for so long. If you ain't an expert, well we're even less so."

"If you insist… you're very kind," he nodded, gave a smile. Thank Lucifer they couldn't see how deep his self-doubt actually went, he didn't think he could handle them being overly nice to him right now. It was always so awkward, and worse he felt he would owe them for it afterwards. All his life, every interaction was a quid pro quo. Every piece of advice, every slight favor, it would be repaid in time. That was how Goetic court life worked. Even after almost a year, he wasn't used to how casual life was with IMP.

Moxxie sighed. "Alright, if you're sure, but…" Once again he took the book and buried his face inside. Stolas caught Millie giving a quick roll of her eyes, shaking her head with an exasperated smile. He returned it. "Look, different ways to amuse your child, I tried all of them! Funny faces, funny sounds, all of it!"

Stolas studied the page. "Have you tried peek-a-hoot?"

"Huh?" Moxxie cocked his head. "That's not one of the options there…"

"Well, try it. Mackie," Stolas got her attention. Then he took a cushion off the couch behind him, held it in front of his face. "Where's the owl?" He lowered the pillow. "Hoo!"

Mackie stared slack-jawed.

"Where's the owl?" He repeated the motion. "Hoo!"

Mackie cracked a big grin… and she giggled.

Stolas couldn't help but feel great at that. Millie clapped her hands, "Alright, way to go!" She smacked him way too hard on the shoulder but he felt too good to even register the pain. Meanwhile Moxxie stared, flabbergasted.

"Where's the owl? Hoo!" Another delighted laugh from Mackie.

"Wow…" Moxxie slowly smiled himself. "Oh Satan, she sounds beautiful…"

Stolas felt himself beam as the baby imp kept smiling. Her teeth were just starting to show, little yellow points sprouting from her gums. Infants were really so precious at this age. He remembered when Octavia was just a hatchling, the way he would hold her in his arms. The way she'd smiled like this. Stolas found it hard to remember that he was capable of sparking joy…

A knock sounded from their front door. Moxxie perked up, "Oh, I'll get it, here you go…" He slipped Mackie into Millie's arms before getting up. Millie waited for him to disappear before turning to Stolas. "Thank you for finally gettin' him to calm down about the laughin' thing."

"If I can help, I want to," he nodded. "But, again, I'd still recommend asking other folks. And not just the book. At a certain point you just have to go with your instincts, you know?"

"I guess. My folks are helpin' out too, and my sis Sallie May. I try to not bother you too much when I can help it."

Millie winked, bouncing Mackie on her knee. Stolas returned a soft smile. "What about Moxxie's family? I'm sure they'd be happy… to…"

He trailed away though as he watched Moxxie backing into the living room, his body language stiff. Following him inside was a larger imp with white hair and a pinstripe suit and a grin that widened on his face upon seeing them.

"Ahhhh, it's about time I get to meet her!"

Millie's eyes filled with alarm and she was on her feet, already backing away from the newcomer. Her and Moxxie's reactions put Stolas on guard immediately. The imp looked between the both of them, and raised his hands in a shrug.

"What? No love for grandpops?"

Moxxie gulped, stammering for his words, "I, ah… sorry, sir, ah, I wasn't, if you—"

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" Millie snapped.

"I'm makin' a friendly housecall! You act like that's a crime now! That's no way to treat family, is it?! You don't even have the courtesy of introducin' your old man!"

He directed the last bit at Moxxie, who shuddered at the reprimand. "Ah… sorry, sir. Stolas, this is, ah… Crimson. My father."

Stolas was getting to his feet as Crimson approached, holding his hand out with a smarmy sneer. "You wouldn't happen to be the Prince Stolas, would you?"

"Yes. I mean, I don't currently hold the title, but yes."

"I thought I recognized you from the small screen. Crazy to think a Goetia could be treated like that…"

Stolas accepted the handshake. and the imp gripped his slender fingers. Tighter. Yet tighter. He couldn't help but wince at the pain. Crimson seemed to relish it, while Stolas tried to hide how taken aback he was. "Ah… ah, I'm afraid it's not a regular occurrence, but I think we were, aha, all a little surprised!"

The imp chuckled, and finally released his hold on Stolas' hand. "Shame we haven't got a chance to meet yet. Woulda happened sooner, if my son had any respect for family."

"Why you LITTLE—"

Millie's outburst was cut off by Moxxie holding his hand out to her. He trembled visibly… and yet, he had a fury in his eyes. "I have plenty of respect for my family. M-Maybe that's why I didn't let you near them!"

He seemed to almost immediately regret his words as his father glared back. But then, Crimson softened, "Ah come on, you gonna be this heartless to your old man? We had our differences, but can't I at least see my granddaughter one time? We got five weeks before the end of the world, you really wanna be so cruel to me?"

Moxxie paused. "They're not… they're not gonna end the world, we're gonna win!"

"But what if we don't? And what if the last thing I think to myself," Crimson pulled a long sad face, "is how I didn't even get to tell Maxxie how much I loved her?"

"…Mackie."

"See, I don't even know her well enough to have her real name! Why would you keep me from her like that?"

Moxxie's eyes darted to Millie and Mackie. Millie shook her head, before curling a fist and flexing her arm pointedly. Moxxie took another deep breath in to fortify himself. Then he turned back to his dad… and struggled again.

"What, y'gonna grow a backbone by becomin' an asshole to your own flesh and blood who raised you?"

Moxxie finally spoke again. "You just wanna see her?"

"Yes! And you're actin' like that's too much to ask for!"

He gestured. "There. You're seeing her now."

Mackie had turned her head to follow the voices. Her eyes met Crimson's. A small pitiful whine escaped her, and she quickly looked away.

"You got what you wanted. Now f—" Moxxie faltered once more as his father turned back; Crimson was no longer even trying to keep up the act. "…now, please leave, if you want, sir?"

His eyes narrowed, but the cruel grin returned. "This what you call protectin' them? Huh? What, you gonna try to tell me off again, like y'did on your second wedding day?"

Stolas blinked, "Second?"

"Don't ask," Millie quieted him.

"You ain't nothing but a spineless little bitch, and I don't want my grandchild growin' up without someone in her life to show her how a real imp's supposed to act. None of this sissy musical theater shit, she's gonna learn to be a killer and put it to real use."

"I'm a, I'm a real killer—"

"Go ahead and be a smartass right now. I know what you're really thinking, you're ashamed of me. You don't want nothing to do with me. That's the truth, isn't it?"

"I—"

"Isn't it?!"

"That's enough!" Millie cut forward between the pair of them and actually made Crimson step back. She glowered at him, "I think it's time for you to leave. And don't you think of comin' back, y'hear?"

He quickly recovered his composure, looking over her, then Mackie, then Moxxie a final time. "Go ahead, be whatever kind of man y'think is better than me. But you gonna decide for her that she doesn't get meet her grandpa? And maybe never will? You're gonna make that choice for her?" Crimson backed away towards the door, "Yeah, way to be a 'better' father than me, Mox."

He cast another glance to Stolas, his lips curling.

"Your Highness…"

Finally he turned, and left. Millie followed him to the door, locking it and deadbolting it. "Can't believe after what he fuckin' did to you, and all this fuckin' time later, he has the GALL to try and come in and see OUR baby! But you did so good honey, you held your ground and—"

She finally saw Moxxie. His face was filled with fear, disgust, he bent over with his hands on his knees. Stolas had never seen him like this before. Millie came closer, Mackie still in her arms.

"…Mox?"

He startled back, looking at her, looking to Mackie. "I…"

"…Look, what he was sayin' there, it was all bullshit. He's tryin' to get under your skin. You're being such a good dad, you are!"

Moxxie gulped shakily. He looked at Mackie again… then the book still where he'd left it in the living room. "I'm… I'm sorry, I…"

He suddenly dashed over, seized the book, and disappeared down the hallway, locking himself in one of the rooms. Stolas stared after him, mouth hanging open.

Millie knocked on their bedroom door a few minutes later. No sound on the other side. Opening it she found Moxxie curled up on the floor beside the bed. He was hugging his knees close, back against the wall, his tail wrapped in front of his shins. His eyes met hers before casting down again.

"Hey," she closed the door behind her. "Don't worry, your dad's gone. I ain't gonna let him back in here to mess with us!"

"…You mean like how I let him in?"

"No Mox, I didn't meant it like that! Really." She stepped closer and sat next to him, hands to either side, back also against the wall. Moxxie buried his face between his knees. "He took us off-guard, that's all. All of us. He didn't hurt anyone. And you told him off too!"

He shook his head, still not looking up. "No I didn't."

"Yes you did! Could it have been stronger, yeah sure, but you still let him know he wasn't welcome here. And that's what really matters!" She could see him starting to peek at her again, good sign. "That still counted as standing up to him. That was good!"

"…You're just trying to make me feel better."

"I mean, yeah, duh," Millie rolled her eyes with a chuckle, "but it's also true."

He held her gaze. Then with a sigh he lifted his head and thumped it back against the wall. "What am I going to do?"

"Well, much as I'd hate to badmouth family, y'could always ask me or Blitzø to deal with him pro bono."

"Not that. What if he's right about me? What if…" his voice wavered, "Am I going to be just as bad as he is? Am I going to hurt Mackie like that?"

Millie felt her heart quiver. Suddenly she understood. She looked around him, then turned her head to find the book thrown against the opposite wall. Her eyes snapped back to his face. "Moxxie, you listen to me and you listen to me good, y'hear? You would never be like him. You are loving, and kind, and you only ever want what's best for our child. Don't you think for a second that you're gonna end up like him."

"I…" he still struggled, "…but he's right, I'm making that choice for her of who she can or can't see, and that's not right, I'm already messing up!"

"If you're messing up on that then so am I, because we both agreed that was the best decision. You gonna sit there and tell me I'm a bad parent for wantin' to keep my baby away from a man like that?"

Moxxie's face was thunderstruck. "No, no no that's not what I'm saying at all!"

"Then you don't get to beat yourself up for that same choice. Mox," she gently laid a hand on his shoulder, leaning close, "the fact you care this much already makes all the difference. Don't let that son of a bitch make you doubt yourself."

He sniffed, wiped his nose on his sleeve. "I just don't know… what I'm doing, you know? I guess I know what not to do, but I just… those instincts people keep talking about, I don't feel them. I don't know what to do…"

But he was calming down now. Tears beaded around his eyes, his voice still shook, but at least his words were coming out. Millie wrapped both her arms around him from the side. "That's why there's two of us."

She gave a smooch on his cheek. That brought a crumpled smile. "Thank Satan…" He embraced her back. Still though, she could tell something else was weighing on him. "I don't know why, but I thought that we'd just… never see him again, once we came up here."

"Hm?"

"You know. A new world and everything, a fresh start for everyone. New house, new neighborhood, new everything. For a couple weeks, I kinda forgot my dad even existed. I mean… I just can't believe it, he could have gone literally anywhere on the planet, and he still chooses to come after me…"

Millie rested her chin on his shoulder playfully. "If it makes you feel better, I also forgot he even existed. And it was great. Let's try forgetting about him again, huh?"

His eyes met hers. He took a deep breath, stabilizing himself. "Yeah... that'd be nice…"

Admiral Barite watched as only a few stray hands raised around their table. Her secretary counted out the Nay votes before declaring, "Decisive majority. It is now official: we are recognizing the enemy as the inhabitants of Hell."

She could hear the exhales around her, some few still annoyed by the perceived jump to irrationality. But also there was a certain finality that resonated in her mind, in the minds of others around her. At this table sat officers that she knew were level-headed and gruff; for the first time their wrinkled eyes betrayed uncertainty. Melody knew they needed a direction. Now.

"Okay gentlemen," she stood up, "we have our consensus. Now we act on it. First of all, I want to read you a communique I received upon requesting official contact with the leadership of Hell. I wanted to hear what their demands were. The message reads…" With a sigh she held up the transcription, "'Eat shit you bitch ass cunt, kiss my ass. Sincerely, Fuck You.'"

She lowered the paper, glancing around. A few surprised faces, and she didn't blame them.

"So, here's the situation as it stands…"

Their table held a large elliptical projection of the Earth's surface. As she spoke, lower-ranking officers stepped around and moved pieces on the map. In short: the situation was not good.

North America was in utter chaos. In the wake of their entire line of succession getting wiped out, the former United States had splintered, with two separate compacts in the west and east forming between remaining governors and military leadership. But with Los Angeles, Texas, New York and the Beltway all under demonic occupation, their strength was going to be crippled. Already there was rationing and the expected protests in response. And of course, rogue elements like Governor Shaw were just another thorn in their side. The crisis was only more complicated by the incursion in Toronto, and already it was proving difficult to navigate the competing demands of the two countries within the alliance.

Here on the continent, Spain and France and Italy were all desperately fighting the invasions in their own borders, making Western Europe unstable. Türkiye had their own incursion in Istanbul; already the Hagia Sophia had been stripped and redecorated into an elaborate throne room for the two-headed demon calling herself 'Leviathan'.

At the moment the priority was to assemble a defensive line from the western tip of the Alps to just south of Belgium. Just charting that line itself had been a process as they traced the fate of villages and towns: who would be behind their steely wall, who would have to be bussed to safety, who would have to be left behind. Melody's stomach churned as she directed battalions that might not exist any more, allocated supplies that might not actually arrive. At least on the eastern side of the continent, Russia was already digging in around the Moscow incursion so they didn't have to worry about that one. Yet.

Britain was another beast entirely. The London incursion had quickly spread, and now everything south of Birmingham was held by Flauros. Grisly images already emerged from his reign; if anyone seemed to relish being a lord of Hell, it was him. Seeing the iconic landmarks of her childhood charred, mutilated bodies hanging over the streets she'd walked for years… it made Melody's stomach turn.

And there was still more to worry about beyond their NATO members. Global partners were all clamoring for cash, weapons, supplies, food, manpower, anything. Japan had three incursions and only their limited self-defense force to combat them. Pakistan had two invasion points, Australia and Iraq and Colombia each had one. South Korea in retrospect was lucky to have Seoul close to the border; the moment the hellborn neared North Korea, they had found themselves facing a fresh assault.

But that was also part of the problem they had to answer today.

"There was actually a successful counter-offensive on the part of Pyongyang that chased a group to the southern side of the border, recapturing a village. And then… their troops stayed there."

Disquiet among the gathered men. One younger officer spoke up, "Do we have reason to believe that they have ill-intentions?"

Melody hesitated. She really didn't want to get this ball rolling, but… "There are reports that they erected their own flag in the village, and raided the local school to clear out 'propaganda.'"

"Mon Dieu," another officer at the table groaned. "Do we not have enough to deal with?"

"I have already raised the issue with General Miao, I am hoping to receive a response soon. We really can't afford to have opportunism disrupt our united response to the threat. Unfortunately because the village is beyond the incursion, there's little we can do enforce proper boundaries."

Another voice, morbidly amused, "Perhaps we should consider ourselves lucky Hell didn't invade Taiwan…" Nobody laughed.

"This is an issue that I am coordinating a response to, and I believe it can be handled diplomatically. If we must press it further we will, but at the moment we do have other priorities." Melody turned the page in her folder. "Our economic capacity, as you can imagine, is crippled at the moment."

The past couple weeks had been ugly. Between the mass assumption and the urban areas being occupied by Hell, roughly ten percent of humanity had been effectively lost. Then of course, the fact those urban centers were major hubs for highways and trains and ports. Industrial areas, communication towers, electronic servers, they were in enemy hands. The last showing from the New York Stock Exchange was basically a line straight down before the whole place went offline, but the economic chaos affected something far more tangible than securities futures right now…

"We need to redouble the war effort, and communicate to our respective governments that this is the most critical national emergency they have ever faced. We have our countdown: five weeks, until the angels arrive to help us. In the meantime, we need to minimize casualties, we need to slow down and disrupt Hell's advance. To do that we need total mobilization on a level we have not seen before. Pass these around," she handed a sheet to her assistant, each written with the respective representative's language.

Eyebrows began to raise almost immediately. One old general sat forward, "Commander, all due respect, this will never get through. Remove environmental protections, shutter schools, remove labor laws, rationing? The Americans are already protesting and they are only being asked to turn their lights off during the day. No one will accept this."

"They don't have to accept it, they just have to tolerate it. For five weeks."

Even her assistant paused at the tone in her voice. She could tell she was getting concerned stares. And she met them back, forcing a steely look to her face.

"Do you think anything I wrote there isn't something I'd follow myself? I have not had a day off since this invasion began. I have not had a full night's sleep since the invasion began. I have been relaying information, watching shipments, trying to balance what goes where. Is it too much to ask that everyone pitch in a fraction as much as I'm pitching in here? Yes, we need weapons and we need factories to make them and we need materials and power and people to run them."

A sigh down the table. "Kiss goodbye to the climate accords…"

Her hands slammed onto the table, her eyes glinting. "If we do not defeat Hell there won't be an environment left to protect. Whatever damage we do in five weeks we can deal with after the fact. These are not normal times so we CAN NOT let our usual problems get in the way here! This should not be so difficult to ask for!"

There was still some grumbling, but her words seemed to be settling in… except for the younger officer again. He hadn't complained or griped at the paper yet he still clearly had something on his mind. "Commander?"

"Yes?"

"…Are we sure that Heaven will be here to help us?"

"Of course they will."

His lips pursed together, clearly not satisfied with her reassurances. "I just worry, because… if they thought we were good, we would be in Heaven already, right?"

"We don't need to worry about that right now," Melody lied. "For now our focus needs to be on the enemy we have in front of us. Do you understand?"

He still didn't seem mollified though. She tilted her head forward, silently encouraging him to continue. He struggled, "I, with all due respect Commander, have to disagree."

Dead silence around the table. She motioned once more for him to continue.

"I'll admit I've not been the most religious man in my life. But I know politics and diplomacy. For Heaven to leave us behind, to let loose Hell on us, for what? To 'test' us?" He shook his head. "I'm sorry, but that's not the way an ally treats an ally."

"Bite your tongue, young man," an older man answered back. "Of all the times to blaspheme, honestly…"

Melody, however, had paused. The man turned to her now, aghast.

"…Commander, you cannot honestly be considering what he said?!"

"These are strange times, General. Every angle must be considered. Every option must be laid on the table. Every assumption should be challenged, like you just did," she gestured to the young officer. "I will consider if a contingency plan is necessary."

And such a contingency would require… unusual bedfellows. She kept her words vague for now, both because she had no idea what such a plan would look like, but also because she knew the more conservative staff and representatives around her would erupt if she actually began planning aloud. She just needed to keep all doors open.

Every option must be on the table.

"Let's focus on our western front on the continent right now, we need to have a defense that's both secure and flexible, to account for—"

Melody was interrupted by the door slamming open, and a staffer running in, "Commander! Another incursion! Amsterdam!"

It was the first time since the initial invasion that another major city had been targeted. In seconds, Melody could trace out in her mind's eye what it would look like if the new invasion force linked up with Paris…

"That would put Brussels behind enemy lines," she stood immediately, gathered her materials. "Get whatever ships we have in Amsterdam out of the harbor. We need to relocate somewhere more secure. Now. Everything!" People were starting to rise from their seats, the staff starting to agitate. "Whatever's necessary, get it mobile now! Come on! And you?"

The staffer who broke the news paused, whirling back around to face her again.

"The moment we get word from Beijing, to me. Above all else." Klaxons began to whoop around them, and Melody had to raise her voice now to still be heard over the growing clamor, "Come on everyone, move your asses!"

Chapter Text

Days ticked past. Fifty miles north of Nagpur, Santosh watched a few more stragglers flee across the bridge towards them. They were the last of a long stream of refugees pouring from the south, clamoring to reach the last crossing over the river. Far above them, the infernal clouds crept across the sky. It was the first time in three weeks that they had spread this far north. The reach of the shadow, and the way the human exodus had slowed to a trickle, those were the first signs of the approaching enemy. And then explosions in the distance, a fireball on the horizon an hour ago.

Hell was almost here.

Santosh's naik left his makeshift cover to intercept the fleeing family, "Hey, I'm sorry, but we need to scan you." They all started pleading, begging to just keep going, to not be held up, "No no, it's protocol. Please, it'll only take a second, we just need to make sure you're not demons…"

He pulled a slim flashlight from his breast pocket. One woman managed to calm herself enough to step forward. The light passed back and forth over her eyes, and the naik stepped back.

"See? That's all I want. You next, please."

Santosh felt his heart continue to hammer, watching them intently. He'd already been caught off-guard once before by one of those fish-like possessors, it'd taken over a havildar in his platoon and gotten into their base and set it ablaze. The yellow glint in the man's eyes, he still saw it when he tried to sleep…

A voice squawking over his radio. "We have footage on the drones, enemy is rounding the bend! Snipers, get in position!"

It sent a shock through the entire team. The last few civilians were hurried on their way. Santosh knelt down behind a pile of sandbags and turned his sights to the far end of the bridge. His fingers went not for his rifle, but the detonator he'd slipped into his vest. Come on you devils…

The road extended a short ways before cresting over a hill, limiting how far they could see. For a moment, nothing. Then the wide flat face of a truck rose up into view. It had been spray-painted and graffitied with streamers flailing about on either side.

Santosh heard his naik speak into the radio, "Snipers, do we have visual on the driver?"

"Negative, the windshield's painted over."

Fuck. With how colorful it was, Santosh could tell the demons wanted their attention drawn to it. They probably wanted the van to be fired on… which meant inside were probably civilians, or prisoners. Or that was what the demons wanted them to think, or else just be distracted and confused, and they'd loaded the truck with explosives as a rolling battering ram bomb. If only they could see past it more clearly, but it was so difficult to get communication across the infernal frontline. And speaking of…

"Naik, we're starting to get interference on the drones, we have to ground them."

"What about our air support?!"

A pause. The truck rolled closer, closer. Santosh glanced upwards again at the infernal clouds, swirling and choking out the beautiful sky he'd grown up beneath.

"What about air support?!"

"They're going to make one more circuit, but the electronic interference is getting too strong! If you do not call in the strike they will return to base!"

Santosh gritted his teeth. After all the time they'd spent setting this trap, they couldn't waste it now. At this point in the conflict, the only thing they were laying down their lives for was to buy a few more hours at a time for people to flee northeast. It seemed almost futile.

But it meant that family just now, that they were able to get away.

The truck barrelled forward, almost to the bridge, it wasn't slowing down. "Engage!" At the naik's command sniper fire shattered the windshields, and four rounds embedded in the head of the driver's seat. No one was at the wheel.

It was a rolling bomb.

"Blow the bridge! Now!"

Santosh was all too happy to oblige.

A string of flashes raced up each side of the structure, and the asphalt fractured and fell away. The truck only got about a third of the way across before it was free-falling and then hit the water. A massive fireball exploded upwards. Santosh could feel the heat on his face from here, but it was harmless. The demons' trick foiled.

That was only the first part of their trap here.

"Very good! Very good! Snipers, keep us covered as we fall back!"

The radio crackled to life again… but it wasn't a member of the platoon. Santosh's blood chilled as he heard a chuckle, a rural drawl speaking Hindi, "Sorry, but the sharpshooters are ill-disposed right now…"

Santosh whipped around to see a portal wink out where one of the sniper nests had been. Of course… have them fire on the decoy, expose themselves with their muzzle flashes!

"FALL BACK! Protect the assets, bring them with us!" The naik's orders were left unheeded as men scrambled back away from the edge of the bridge. All according to plan. Santosh did his part to pantomime, dipping into the wooden guard booth, stooping to pick up one of the crates like he was going to carry it away.

A portal opened nearby. Shit.

"The fuck you think that was gonna do?" A cruel laugh. One of the imps, in an American cowboy outfit, a wide hat, wild yellow eyes. His naik shouting for him to get out of there, Santosh dropped the crate and sprinted, over his shoulder, more demons crawling from the portal and clamoring for the crates left behind, the imp was already raising a gun and aiming… before his attention was drawn by the sound of a jet coming in hot.

The sharp craft roared overhead. Napalm burst from the side of the road and swallowed the imps.

Santosh cried out in instinct; even with the distance he'd put between himself and the strike zone, the chemical fire felt hot against his body. He dropped to the ground and rolled over, peeling off his jacket, convinced he was actually ablaze. But no… no flames, he was okay. He panted, seeing his platoon racing for the trucks, scrambling for their next move. Santosh turned onto his back to see great roaring plumes twisting into the sky. The brightly-painted wood of their decoy stations were already ash. Treelines nearby burned, the price to pay for killing one of the advance strike teams.

Something emerged from the fire.

Santosh froze in place at the sight. The imp who'd emerged from the portal first, he walked right out of the churning napalm inferno. Some flames licked at the brim of his hat before dying away. His eyes had a crazed energy to them.

His mates were calling for him, they had to retreat now. Santosh couldn't move. Why hadn't this worked? All of that effort, a trap to target at least the vanguard that always struck first… even that much, they couldn't get.

The imp slowly stepped forward, black and red boots on the concrete road. Firelight burned behind and he cast a shadow now over Santosh, closer and closer, making the human's eyes go higher and higher. He paused now, tilting his head, looking down at the soldier. "Don't tell me you're extractin' a thorn with a thorn, now."

Santosh shook his head, progressively more and more terrified. All his training, why wasn't it coming through now?!

"Y'know, some other parts of your world, they say 'fightin' fire with fire'. Seems quite fittin' here, wouldn't you say? What do you think we got plenty of down in Hell?"

Santosh tried to scoot himself away, only for the demon's tail to suddenly whip around and seize him by the ankle.

"Speakin' of Hell… my employer's been lookin' for something like you." He gave a cruel chuckle, as more imps emerged from the flames, eager to chase down the retreating forces.

Octavia felt her uncle's hand on her shoulder as they strode into the massive infernal amphitheater. For the first time, she would be attending the Goetic Court. It was a supreme privilege, even her own mother wasn't allowed to attend, but with Octavia only a couple weeks away from investiture it was deemed wise to have her start to learn her role.

Jacques was also coming. But then again, he didn't count as a person anyways.

Andrealphus guided her to their spots in the gallery ringing below the central dais. That freed her up to turn back, keep a side-eye on Jacques. The man was clearly making an effort to keep a brave face. They shuffled along to their spot, and from here they could see the Sins sitting one ring higher, including Lucifer himself. The sight of the fallen angel made Jacques blanch, but still he kept following closely.

"Keep up," Andrealphus sneered at him, before looking down at Octavia again. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah. I studied, I practiced, I'm ready."

"Good girl, you'll do our family very proud. And remember, don't be frightened of Lucifer. We are his favorite creations, so don't be afraid! But do be respectful and deferential or there will be consequences."

"Thanks, that makes me feel a lot more confident about meeting him."

"Hmmm, good," Andrealphus was oblivious as usual to her actual feelings. Then he turned and addressed their human servant again. "You, you should be frightened of Lucifer."

Jacques gulped. "I understand, my lord…"

The seven Sins sat around the dais, Satan having shrunk to a more manageable size; he was only about four times the height of everyone around him right now. Lucifer stood now, wings unfolding, and cleared his throat. All went silent. Octavia braced herself for a terrifying bassy voice, laced with cruelty and impossible demands…

"Alright, let's not waste any time here."

He was surprisingly normal. Octavia readied herself as Lucifer gestured with his hand. In the center of the room now, a massive globe of the Earth appeared.

"So, uh, we have a new Goetia who will be joining us soon. Great timing, I have to say…" Everyone laughed at his joke except Lucifer himself. "One of the things she's been practicing is divination. Some of our vested members said it'd be a good idea to have her work this planning session, and I don't have any problems with that."

His eyes glanced to Andrealphus, whose chest puffed out in pride.

"Octavia, please come here."

Her heart leapt. Uncle Andy pushed her forward and Octavia complied, clutching the grimoire to her chest. She glanced back to see his face encouraging her forward, to see Jacques trying to subtly put distance between himself and Andrealphus. Now she was climbing to the very topmost ring, where Lucifer was waiting with one hand out.

"You read through everything, right?"

"Yeah, I'm ready!"

"Good. Come here, now…" He guided her to two exposed plaques of gold, each marked with ancient sigils surrounding a handprint. "Go ahead, set your hands there, it'll let you commune with the map."

"Right. Got it." Octavia set the grimoire down, and placed her hands where they were marked on the metal. And… nothing happened. Lucifer kept watching her, before sighing and closing his eyes.

"Open the book and put it in front of you so that you can read the incantation."

Right. Yeah that would be important. Octavia flushed a bit, "Sorry sir, sorry, I should've—"

"It's fine, just do it."

Octavia got herself set back up again, and she began to read: "O mighty cogs of space and time, reveal to me thy inner workings, show me the workings that connect the stars to the finest motes, that tie all things living and dead in finite knowable ways, gift to me thy sight…"

As she spoke the plaques began to shiver. The globe above hummed, and suddenly in her mind she saw a flash. Clearer than recalled memory yet just as ephemeral, she could see a crowd of humans clinging to a train. Hellhounds crouching out of sight as bullets whizzed past. Focus now. Octavia imagined the borders and countries she'd studied, the positions she'd been handed, the numbers and images swirling together. In many ways the spell was restricted from the things they didn't know, but on a macro level it had proven a trustworthy source so far.

She could hear Lucifer's boots pacing away from her. "Is this looking accurate? Anyone have any objections?"

Quiet, a few scattered negatives.

"Very good. Well done, Octavia."

She opened her eyes long enough to meet his gaze, "Thank you sir!"

He nodded, before stepping back to his seat. "Satan, take it from here."

The draconic figure rose from his seat now. Octavia shivered as his wings spread, and his voice was frankly what she'd expected from Lucifer: "The mortal armies have been just as fragile as we'd expected. Already we have dozens of their proudest cities under our control and each day we advance more and more. Our losses have been as we expected, a few tens of thousands hellborn. For that small price, we have obtained over a billion souls, and our conquest only grows easier as time goes on. Soon we will be mopping up their towns, their villages. Octavia, if you would please, show us the next month…"

She shut her eyes and concentrated. All the information she had been fed, she delivered it to the globe. Now the enchantment ran through different random scenarios, trying to measure what would happen next. The images fed back into her psyche. Human leaders shaking hands, then suddenly shouting at each other. Demons arguing with each other, demons side-by-side. Skulls on posts. Imps running waving a white flag. Satan seated upon a massive building with mountains in the background. Humans in chains dragging stones up ramps. Every possible outcome, to the best of their pooled knowledge.

"Five out of eight timelines," Satan mused aloud, "we win. Two out of eight timelines, we deadlock by the time Heaven attacks. One out of eight timelines, we lose."

Octavia could hear murmuring from all directions, someone hissing that she was underestimating Hell's power. She tried to ignore it.

Beelzebub's voice, "So what happens in the timelines we don't win? How do we lose there?"

Satan motioned over the globe, watching the events unfold. Octavia dared to look again, and saw his snout curling into a grin. "The timelines where the mortals manage to actually cooperate with each other…"

A sigh of relief, some laughter, still some grumbling. Octavia felt the need to speak for herself, "We need to think of every scenario, right? I, I didn't even come up with that one! It was the map that—"

"Don't you worry now," Satan gestured for her to quiet. "It never hurts to be thorough at times like these. But outside of any, pardon the term, miracles," the Goetia let out a mocking laugh around them, "the mortal nations are already crumbling apart. Just as expected, they are short-sighted, selfish, paranoid creatures unable to cooperate even in the face of annihilation. We can begin to consider what our rule over the surface will look like. To that end, Duke Flauros and I have been speaking…"

Oh great. That guy. Octavia tried to focus on her simulation as she heard the sound of Flauros' armor stepping up to the dais. "Thank you, my Lord. My fellow Goetia, look here!"

He drew a sword and pointed it at the globe; the sphere zoomed in close, showing Great Britain. The lower half of the island was shaded red.

"This was one of the proudest of the mortal nations. A century ago, this city was considered the capital of the world! Now… well, I'm returning it to proper glory."

He willed an image into place. London half in ruins, with Flauros' seal smoldering in the face of the clock tower. A massive statue was being assembled, and while so far only the paws had been built Octavia could tell it was meant to represent himself. Up above, the now-familiar burning clouds provided a dreary backdrop to the shattered metropolis.

"Also, I'd be remiss to not mention how Lord Satan has been a welcome presence in the city. Many of these foul beasts have faced proper justice under his wisdom."

Satan gave a snort, steam bursting from his nostrils. "Watch your praise, Duke. You draw close to sycophancy."

"Of course my Lord! But I mean it with every ounce of black blood in my beating heart." He let out a proud sigh, leaning his sword against his shoulder. "I have sadly been away from my new fiefdom for some time, aiding my fellow lords as they push through the tough early resistance we expected. But by the end of the week, I shall complete my conquest of the isle…"

Again he pointed, this time with a clawed finger. The image of the isle again, now filling with red all the way to the northern edge.

"It will be the first piece of land on the planet to be fully under our rule. And there we will begin building a proud new Hell, upon the bowed backs of what was previously Heaven's favored race…"

Octavia could hear the nasty sneer in his voice when he said that. Her stomach twisted. Most everyone else here seemed to love it though from what she could hear.

Flauros cockily stepped back, "I cede the floor, my Lord."

Satan nodded. "Very good. On that point, I know there has been prior debate on whether we should bring the seven rings to the surface. After some deliberation, I've actually come to change my opinion on it." Excited chatter all around. "If the rings are kept sealed, then I believe it would be worth the effort. It could do the hellborn good to have a zoo to visit, watch as we toss fresh souls in for the animals inside." Cruel laughter rang out. She'd been born and raised in Hell and still Octavia felt her spine shudder at the sound. "If no one else has new points to bring up, I motion for—"

A cellphone rang through the hall. Lucifer pulled his device out, and rolled his eyes. "Ugh, hold on, I gotta take this. This bitch won't stop pestering me. Sorry guys! Hold on…" He answered it, and willed the video up into the air to see more easily, obscuring part of the globe. Octavia saw a human woman in a uniform, framed awkwardly in a plain white room with blue flags flanking her. Lucifer sighed, "Yes?"

She seemed surprised to even be acknowledged. "Lucifer! Let me speak! I'll admit it, we are desperate! We want to negotiate, can we at least open a dialogue to discuss—"

"I already told you there's nothing to discuss. Don't bother me again unless you're surrendering." He cut off the call before throwing his hands up, exasperated. "Nothing ever changes, they don't fucking listen."

More laughter from all around. From Octavia's perspective, it seemed everyone was on the same page. And yet… "Uh, excuse me?"

Her voice dissipated the cackling. She lifted her hands off the plaques, leaving the globe suspended in the air behind her.

"I'm just curious… why don't we just talk with them? If we can make a deal with the mortals that's favorable to us, then we can get what we want without anyone else having to die?"

Silence around the hall. Then one of the Goetia called out, "Who fucking cares if more humans die?!"

Octavia felt her stomach curdle as open mockery began. "I-I mean, hellborn lives! We could—"

Different voices, "Like he said, who gives a fuck?!" "She wants to take away their whole purpose, how cruel!" "Get back to running the globe, dipshit!"

Andrealphus' voice raised now, "Please, you'll have to forgive her naïvety, her father planted all these disordered ideas in her head…"

"Okay, okay!" Octavia held her hands up, "I get it now! We don't care about that kind of thing, I was just asking a question!" Why did she open her big mouth, she's gone and made a fool of herself in front of the entire court, in front of Lucifer. She turned to see the damage she'd done; he was slouching in his throne again, looking around at the jeering faces, then back at her. His eyes were far less harsh than she feared they'd be…

"ENOUGH!"

That was Asmodeus. Once again the cacophony silenced, even faster than at her own voice. He was on his feet, and the flames about his heads blazed hotter than before.

"She will soon be the newest member of this court, and she has brought a new fresh perspective to the proceedings, and all you do is mock it. You act as if there are not Goetic lords, as if there are not us Sins, who would support her."

One of the lords behind him raised a hand, "It's 'us Sins whom would support her.'"

He whirled around, "Shut the fuck up Cimejes! I will not be disrespected when I am speaking here! The war has already served its purpose, the hellborn have had their time to run amok and air their grievances towards the mortal humans. The young Goetic lady is right. Now is the time to treat, claim our wins, and focus more energy on the actual threat facing us. We're only a little over a month away from Heaven's deadline and we are still trying to discover a way to stop them! We will still need to find a way to harness it and scale it and build it. We are running out of time and yet we are devoting all of our focus to kicking the humans while they're down!"

Asmodeus stood there panting. Silence.

"Bee, back me up here. I know you dislike this," he motioned at Flauros' images still hanging in the air, "as much as I do!"

She did actually rise from her seat — at the same time as Satan. He stood tall, spreading his wings, looking down with a dark glare. Bee's ears folded back, and she sat down again. Satan snorted, before looking down at Asmodeus. "Such bold words, from someone refusing to fight the war altogether."

"Don't you fucking dare. I have been keeping my people mobilized! You want my roll call lists, I'll give 'em to you! Every single day for the last three weeks! Just because I don't treat the mortals like animals, suddenly I'm not worth respecting?!"

Satan kept glowering down. "Are you quite finished?"

"…You know what? No, I'm not! Bee, come on, stand back up! I know you wanted to say something!" She stayed seated though. Asmodeus shook his heads, before meeting Satan's gaze again. "Ever since we left the garden, you act like you can tell us what to do, that you know what's best. You're just lucky that he doesn't give enough of a fuck to tell you off! No offense, Lu."

Lucifer perked up from his throne, "Huh, what?"'

Asmodeus rolled his eyes, but kept standing there beneath Satan's shadow. The draconic figure loomed above him with gleaming yellow eyes. "You believe your approach is superior to mine?"

"I'm one of the only people here ruling over a functioning city!"

"And do your people not resent you? Not your collection of pets. Your incubi and succubi, do they not resent you prioritizing the needs of an already privileged race above their own?"

"I am not doing that."

"You would coddle those apes the same way Heaven has treated them with kid gloves for thousands of years."

"You're not fucking LISTENING to me! I have done everything in my power to reward the hellborn and let them have their fill! I've just found a way to do that that doesn't completely fuck over the humans, because I think they still have a part to play in our plan! You act like that's unreasonable!"

Octavia watched the whole exchange, feeling self-conscious that she sparked this open conflict. As they kept going back and forth, as she saw the expressions on the Goetia around them, she could tell that few minds were being changed here. Hoping to avoid further escalation, she just slid out some pages from the grimoire, the 'intelligence' she'd been given about where the human armies were, along with notes about what they didn't know. Secret installations around the globe; without their exact location, there was no way to portal in. But they ultimately held little import in the grand scheme of things, more akin to nests to be slowly starved out and dispersed over time…

Deep under Hope's Peak, Quentin shuffled into the back of the main hangar. A yet-unfinished stage had been erected at the other end. Screens hung on the wall, still black, but one more screen on the ceiling showed Shaw before the crowd, the light turned to highlight him. The three cherubim flanked behind, delighted just to be included. A headset amplified his voice through the whole space as he lifted a Bible in one hand and spoke. The frontmost half of the crowd raised their own Bibles in the air, and repeated along with him:

"This is my Bible. I am what it says I am. I have what it says I have. I can do what it says I can do. Today I will be taught the word of God. I boldly confess my mind is alert. My heart is receptive. I will never be the same in Jesus' name."

God, Quentin really did not want to be here. Over the past week though, he'd been getting side-eyes and jabs from Shaw's more committed followers. They had no time to be worrying about authority like this, so fine. He would attend the services if it would get everyone on the same page.

Shaw set the Bible down on his podium, and began to pace back and forth across the stage. Despite his slow gait and receding white hair, his eyes shined bright: "Today I want to speak to you all, about purifying ourselves. In these dark times, as we await the final judgment of Heaven, we must look inside and ask what keeps us from God's gifts. What actions do we take, what thoughts do we think, what company do we keep that keeps us from grace?"

Oh, Quentin had a few thoughts on who exactly was keeping people from God's grace around here. Some of Shaw's more-established congregants were weaving between people right now, each with a stack of books in their arms, offering them, "Bible? Bless your soul, now's the time to have one! Bible?"

"Now more than ever, these questions matter. We must look into our own lives for our own sake, we must look into each others' lives for each others' sake, if we are to survive the Tribulation and be worthy of Paradise. We must remain vigilant of those temptations, those who mean ill who would turn us from the path of righteousness."

"Bible?" An old woman presented one to Quentin, a smile on her face… and yet an incisive look in her eye. He glanced back and forth, people were watching him. Reluctantly he accepted one, and her smile brightened. "Just try it, you might be surprised!"

It wasn't a matter of 'not trying it' for him, but trying to explain that would cause more trouble than it was worth. Quentin held back a sigh and just held the book in one hand, folding his arms and listening to Shaw continue:

"One of the beautiful things about becoming a purer version of yourself, is that you learn to appreciate even the difficulties in your life more. We call these times the Tribulation, yes. And yet it is now easier than ever to hold faith. Now we can see the proof that the Lord our God is real and waiting for us with open arms at the end of this long ordeal. How many years has it been, since the faithful have had the presence of angels to assure us of our righteousness?"

He turned and gestured to the trio behind him. Quentin winced as the infant-like cherub zipped into the air and opened his mouth and let out that grating voice, "That's right folks! We're here to help you on the right path into Heaven!"

"And your assistance is greatly appreciated!" Shaw smiled, even giving an easy laugh. "Some will require that assistance more than others though. To that end…" His face grew somber as looked into the crowd, "will the turncoat come forward?"

Silence descended upon the hall. Even the smiling friendly folks distributing Bibles paused where they were, watching. Quentin felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle.

Shaw paced back and forth across the stage. "There stands now in our midst a Judas, someone who would sell us out for their own gain, their own pleasure. I have seen it, I see everything that happens in these walls," he gestured at the screen up above. "Yet I cannot know why they do it. I cannot fathom a heart who would turn away from us, from all we hold dear. Someone who has seen fit to undermine the work we do to keep ourselves alive. Someone who has sinned in their minds and in their actions. A traitor, and the most insidious kind, one who through inaction has made us all unsafe. Now is the time for them to offer themselves willingly, to return to Heaven's light through your free will, before we seize upon you by force and—"

"HERE!" Quentin heard a woman's voice, it was one of the people who'd been passing out Bibles. "This young man, he was just trying to leave! He's the traitor!"

The accused's protests were drowned out by a swell of gasps and commotion. Quentin could just barely make out "—do anything, I swear! I just had to go to—"

"Bring him forward!" Shaw's voice never raised to a yell, and yet carried far more force than one. "Bring the turncoat forward!"

The boy was wrestled to the stage; he was only in his early twenties. Quentin didn't recognize him, but he did recognize the woman who'd seized him, the woman who was now dragging him up.

She had been the one chained in the mess hall.

"Holy shit…" Quentin felt like he had to act, he glanced around looking for his men. One of them was nearby, thank God. He shuffled closer, getting their attention, "We need to stop this. Now. This is getting out of—"

"But Colonel!" He was interrupted by the same person who'd pushed a Bible into his hand, her eyes were wide and innocent now, "Pastor Shaw is just trying to protect us!"

"THAT is not protecting anyone!" The young man was now being forced onto his knees on stage before the crowd. Shaw stepped closer, as the trio of cherubim stood behind. Even their faces seemed surprised. "We need to put a stop to this!"

But the soldier he was speaking to… just tilted his head, "Well… if he did something wrong, the governor has to deal with it."

"…Are you kidding me? This is not how we deal with it! Come with me, we're getting the others together and we're stopping this! That's an order!"

"Colonel, don't be hasty!" The woman again, 'Let the pastor talk! You wouldn't disrupt our service, would you?"

As Quentin kept trying to talk sense into the two, Shaw approached the young man. "My boy, you have committed a grave sin not just against your community, but against God. Do you deny it?"

"No… I mean, yes, I, look I was just trying to leave because—"

"Because the guilt grew too strong for you."

"No! No, it wasn't that I promise!"

"I see… so you have been pure of heart, pure of mind, pure of deed? You have been kept up with your duties? And please bear in mind, we have the eyes and ears of Heaven to witness your answer."

"I…" He looked back at the three cherubim. The trio were just staring, put on the spot. "Yes! I swear! I have been!"

"My boy…" Shaw crouched down now, to look into his eyes, "lying is both one of the easiest and gravest sins."

"I'm not lying! I swear I'm not! I've been good! I haven't done anything!" He knelt there, hands raised. The spotlight paled his skin as he knelt before the hundreds gathered, withering under their gaze, begging for mercy. "I, I don't know what you're looking for! Is this about the shift I missed yesterday?!"

Oh don't say that. Don't give them that much. Quentin nervously ran his fingers through his hair as he felt the crowd turn on the young man.

"Sloth. Indolence. You would leave us defenseless for your own leisure. You disgust me."

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, please!"

"Oh it's not me you need to apologize to…" He gestured to the crowd.

"I'm sorry, okay?! I didn't mean anything by it! I promise!"

"And will you apologize to Almighty God?"

"Yes! I apologize to God! I apologize! I'm sorry!"

"…Or is this the contrition, are these the crocodile tears, of a man caught in the act?"

Quentin couldn't take it. He was trying to push his way to another man in his unit, someone he could talk sense into. He couldn't just leave this boy to this fate; actually, he apparently couldn't leave anyways. There had to be something here he could do!

But his mind went to other matters, as the floor began to rumble.

The tremors caught everyone off guard. Even Shaw looked up, sharp eyes scanning around. Across the state, the earth trembled.

The colonel turned to the man he'd reached, "Get the others, get this shit shut down! I have to see what that is!" And he raced out of the hangar, thankfully everyone's attention no longer on rooting out 'traitors.'

Outside, on the surface of Hope's Peak, an Army Ranger on recon frantically pulled his binoculars from his jacket pocket. He was the first to look out and see, a hundred miles east on the edge of the horizon, the ground itself crumbling. Evacuated single-intersection towns shattered as the very soil they sat on broke apart, abandoned homes and vehicles and fences and roads all as fragile as toys.

"What the hell is going on out there?!" Quentin burst into the portal room, where the pair of DHORKS agents had activated just a small entryway. It was flickering and flashing, and Agent Two turned to the colonel.

"The connection's getting screwy! We're having trouble tracking our usual access point, the coordinates are shifting! Our rover's gotten flipped over in there, we can't—"

"Shhh!" Agent One cut her off. "This report's for President Shaw's ears only! We ain't talking to nobody who don't outrank us!"

Quentin could see their screen though, and he knew what it must be. Even if their camera rover had overturned, it looked up between the sharp buildings of Hell, and on the pentagram above there was sod disintegrating, darkness giving way to a red sky. And on another monitor, a view from their camera on the very summit, watching a massive dome rising out of the Great Plains to the east.

Only minutes later, the Pride Ring sat less than a state away from Hope's Peak, still under its sealed dome, with the other rings just underneath. Just another one of Hell's claims here on Earth.

Chapter Text

Ember lay in bed, the now-familiar red of morning filling her window, hearing the inarticulate arguing of the neighbors on the second floor above. She couldn't go back to sleep; instead she was left with her thoughts nagging her, pulling her back and forth.

Know what, fuck it. She was going to do it.

Her room was a lot smaller than what she'd been used to. Not much could really be done about that right now. Boxes were piled in the corners, the family's possessions stowed wherever they could fit without a garage or broom closet to spare any more. There were similar stacks in the combined living room/dining room. Ember carefully lifted her backpack off one of these piles. Dad and Pop were sprawled on the couch, passed out each with an arm around the other. Pop still had a stained black apron on from last night, while Dad leaned his head on Pop's shoulder. Ember felt another pang of guilt. Then taking her bike from beside the door, she painstakingly left as quietly as possible.

Her eyes stayed vigilant as she rode through the neighborhood to the library. The route was familiar to her, and if it wasn't for the overcast dull glow of scarlet she could almost convince herself things were still normal for a block at a time. But then she'd see an imp coming out into the front yard with coffee in hand, or a pack of hellhounds lingering at an intersection. Ember caught the eye of a shark who tried to catch up with her, "Hey kid! Hey! Wanna make a quick buck?!" She'd sped away without any acknowledgment.

She had to admit… not that much worse than before.

Finally she made it to the library. The windows had been smashed in, and some display cases just inside looted. Ember ventured further into the darkened building, pulling out her phone for light, her heart hammering. Okay, mythology, that would have been upstairs right, since it counted as nonfiction technically?

…Okay, at this point, definitely nonfiction.

Ember crept up the stairs. At least the skylights let a little more light in on the upper floor, but still she hated the atmosphere that the library had now. She could see herself sprinting up the stairs a few years ago, just behind Pop as he waited for her to catch up, eager to get his own books. A few years before that, storytime with Mother Goose the floor below, featuring one of the older librarians in a cheap Halloween costume. Even at such a young age Ember had seen right through the outfit, but it was still fun to pretend, even if it was stupid…

Thumping, smacking, ahead of her.

Ember gasped and hid at the very top of the stairwell. It was coming from behind the shelves just nearby. More smacking, a moan. Steeling herself, she peeked around the corner, her phone lighting a small shaky circle across a row of books. Red skin, sharp black wings, dark clothing moving behind the stacks.

Then the movement stilled. A feminine voice, "Fuck, what? What's that?! Who's there?!"

Ember braced to run.

A pair of succubi emerged from behind the shelves, quickly adjusting their clothing back in place. The first demon took one look at Ember and rolled her eyes with a groan. "It's a fucking kid. You said nobody came here any more!"

"They don't!" Her partner locked eyes with the human, "The fuck you doing here?!"

Slowly Ember rose to her feet, her mind racing. "…I was looking for a book?"

"Okay, well go look for it! Over there! Fuck me…"

The first succubus grabbed the second by the wrist and led her farther inside, looking back to make sure Ember wasn't following them. Luckily what she was looking for was in fact in the other direction. Some of the shelves had been toppled together like dominos, and a few books had been ripped apart and scribbled in. Ultimately though, the vandals had found little of value here and moved on to flashier targets and loot. Ember found the shelf she was looking for leaning against the next one over, with its contents spilled over the floor. Philosophy books (The Power of Positive Thinking by Richie Nepoman), religion books (Being God's Best Friend by Jackson Shaw), and finally… "Yes!"

Ducking under the shelf on all fours, Ember sorted through the spilled titles and grabbed whatever she could on demonology. At least seven of them, looking for the older and thicker volumes. The slimmer books with the flashy pictures, those were just make-believe. But these… these had to have something in them she could learn from.

She hauled her find to the nearby reading table, gingerly balancing her phone between two of the book spines, before opening one up. "The Abridged Testament of Solomon," she read aloud, fingers sliding over the aged paper, "A Treatise on the Arts Goetic, Theurgic, and Natural." She didn't know if she was pronouncing those correctly, she didn't really care. Ember flipped forward, heart pounding. Between the text lay lithographs of seals, small scurrying imps with pitchforks, beastly hellhounds, and all manner of unusual figures.

Flipping back to the front of the book she scanned the table of contents, before jumping forward again. King Asmodeus… the image was a far cry from the reality of their new ruler, but it still had the three heads. The demon of lust.

Okay, these old guys were actually onto something.

What was the name of that guy her boss hung out with? Stolas? She flipped there now. Again, the image of a lanky owl with a crown on its head was a ways off from reality. Yet, the owl shape… she could use this. What she was going to use this information for, she didn't really know yet, but it had to be good for something.

Slipping it and a few other titles in her bag, Ember made her way home again. By now the morning light gave a slightly stronger crimson glow through the clouds. A few more demons milled about at this point, but all these weeks later she was hardly on their radar. As she came up to their apartment, she could hear arguing again. This time though, it was her fathers.

"—else we're gonna do?! We don't have any other options!" That was Dad.

Pop answered him, "I know! I know that, you think I don't?! That doesn't mean I can't still feel like shit about it! She shouldn't have to be working to help the family!"

"Well I have been trying my best! Job market's not exactly real rosy right now!"

"I know that too! I wasn't trying to yell at you, I was trying to encourage you!"

"Bringing it up over and over isn't really encouraging! We're lucky you even got the dishwasher job!"

"Lucky?!" Pop scoffed, "Ty, you think I like going back to doing this shit again?! You think my back's not already killing me at the pace they have me going?"

"Okay, then you shouldn't've—" Dad cut himself short.

"Shouldn't've what? Come on, say it."

"No. It's not fair for me to hit you with that."

"Say it! I want to hear you say it!"

Ember felt that was her cue to make a show out of arriving, stamping her feet outside the door like she was just getting off her bike. Her two fathers quickly shushed each other, and she opened the door.

Pop breathed a sigh of relief, "Ember! Where were you, we were worried sick!"

"I went to the library, it's… you know, been a while. Is everything okay? I heard shouting when I was coming in."

He turned to face Dad; Ember could see contrition across his face. "Yeah… yeah, you know, Dad and I were having an argument, we're trying to figure out what to do and we both feel very strongly about it, but we are going to figure out. Together."

Dad gave a small smile, and walked over to Pop, setting a hand on his shoulder. Ember felt a relief at the way they shared the moment. Then Dad turned to her, "We're glad you're home. That's what matters. Are you hungry?"

"Yeah." Ember honestly had only meant to drop off her books and then hurry to work, but suddenly she really wanted to stay here just a little bit longer, to let Dad cook for her.

A couple hours later, Blitzø walked the Strip on babysitter duty for Moxxie and Millie, pushing Mackie in a stroller, Stolas following along for once seemingly content. He pressed his phone to his head, waiting for Loona to pick up.

Finally a click, "Yeah?"

"Hey Loonyyyy! Just calling to see if you had any messages!"

She gave a long sigh. "Absolutely sweet fuck-all. Just like the last time I was working."

"Uh-huh, right, well don't forget when you answer the phone to say it's I.M.P. so that people will feel nice and welcomed, okay?"

"I know."

"I know you know!" He still wore a pained smile, "I'm just a little worried 'cause I just called now and you didn't do that."

Another sigh. "Whatever, I'll do it next time."

"Atta girl! You keep up the energy, alright? Love you, proud of you, bye bye!" Blitzø hung up, before dropping his forehead against the handle of the stroller with a heavy sigh.

He felt Stolas' fingers tentatively resting on his shoulder. "Don't worry, things will turn around."

"It'd be nice if we got a call back about that stupid fucking show tonight."

"Even if it doesn't come through, there'll be business soon…"

Blitzø shook his head, forehead still stuck to the handle. "I fuckin' hope so…" Finally he straightened back up, and kept pushing the stroller. "We don't got any sinners, hellborn just wanna kill people themselves, and I'm not workin' for a fuckin' mortal human!" He scowled, before something caught his eye on the building nearby. "Oh speaking of, you see this shit yet?"

Stolas followed Blitzø's pointing finger to a restaurant just above them. It had wide windows and white siding. He read the sign, "Hell's Kitchen?"

"Yeah, that's not one of our places! Fuckin' humans, whole goddamned planet wasn't enough for them. It's motherfucking cultural appropriation, that's what it is!"

It felt good to vent. A welcome distraction from his business troubles, and Stolas and Mackie both were willing to tolerate it. Walking again he kept his eyes up on Stolas, who was genuinely in thought. "Well… have you considered pivoting to something else?"

"What, another industry? Besides contract killing?"

"Perhaps, but also trying to find another market? Like you said, sinners can't hire you any more. Have you tried petitioning to Asmodeus? He's pretty reasonable..."

"I have, like every single fuckin' day. Nothing. I tried asking Fizz if he'd talk to him about it, but abso-fucking-lutely nothing. I don't think he's even trying, I think he's mad at me again." Blitzø looked down at Mackie, who'd woken up and was now staring up. "Yeah kid, better learn that fast. Everyone in the world's here to fucking screw you over."

Mackie responded by lifting a rubber pentagram and mouthing on it, yellow eyes fixated on her uncles.

"See? She gets it."

Stolas shook his head, amused. "Maybe you can try to reach out to other Goetia, but that would mean you have to move and be part of their legion."

"Aw fuck that. They're gonna make me actually follow orders, fuck that noise!"

They crossed an interesection, all while Stolas was still visibly thinking. "Only other choice then that I can see, is opening up to human clients."

"Ugh, never mind, I'd rather take my chances getting orders from the pompous dickbags." It took him a moment to realize whom he was speaking to. "No offense."

"I… appreciate it?"

"Fuck, you know what I mean. Most of the other demon lords, they fuckin' suck. Besides, my whole point was that they're not as bad as working for a fuckass human. The sinners were already bad enough, romping around like they owned the Pride Ring. You want me to work for a dipshit like that?!" He gestured at a lanky man with a bright vest, trying to sweep trash off the sidewalk. At Blitzø's words he perked up, confused why he was suddenly a center of attention. "Yeah, full offense to you. Fuck off."

Stolas kept following behind as they moved past an ornate fountain, and then a series of large screens that'd been rewired. Katie Killjoy's voice could be heard fading into view, "…big push to the top of the island, starting at midnight tonight! That's midnight on the giant fuckin' clock they have there in London, so make sure to pop some popcorn and tune in to see the living world get their asses thrashed! This is Katie Killjoy, reporting from inside a giant fuckin' bubble that nobody can escape from!"

Blitzø glanced at Mackie, making sure she was paying attention to him, and gestured with his horns at the screen, "Yeah that bitch is kinda crazy. Not a bad voice though." He chuckled as they moved onto the next screen… and passed by a massive three-story digital billboard. On it ran a countdown:

30:04:47:32

The seconds ticked, ticked, ticked. Blitzø barely gave it any mind, still focusing on his niece, "Trust me kid, show biz is not what it's cracked up to be. Buncha dipshits. C'mon Stolas, what you staring for?"

Stolas had craned his neck up, watching the countdown march on. At Blitzø's voice he quickly followed again, but kept looking back up.

"Y'think it's gonna stop if you keep watching it? C'mon!"

"Sorry, was just… thinking about something…" Stolas shook his head, clearly on another train of thought.

Before Blitzø could say anything more about it though, his phone rang. He scrambled with it, "Y'ello, Blitzø Buckzo of I.M.P. speaking!"

A gruff voice on the other end, "Hey, you signed up for the show later tonight, right?"

His heart leapt. "Yeah! Yeah yeah, I did!"

"Good news, you're in."

"Oh, FUCK YES!" He thrust his fist into the air, laughing. "That's so fucking awesome! Stolas, we just solved all our problems with the business!"

"Seven o'clock, make sure you got your crew of six ready to go."

"Yeah yeah we'll be there, we'll be ready! Four imps, a hellhound and an owl guy. You don't mind one of the imps bein' strapped to the other right, in a little baby carrier thingamawhatsit?"

Quiet on the other end. "…Infants don't count."

Blitzø paused. "Right, okay, infants don't count, uh… just to ask, six is just a maximum, right?"

"Exact number. No more, no less."

"Is there… any wiggle room on that?"

"Yeah. You don't have six people, you don't show up for the show, we get someone else."

"FUCK! FU-U-UUUCK!"

"Is there a problem?"

"No! No fucking problem, I just sprained my dick, gotta take care of that, we'll be there, all six of us, bye bye." He hung up. "GOD FUCKING DAMMIT I CAN'T CATCH A FUCKING BREAK!"

"Are we… not in the show?"

"Yeah but we need a team of six! There's you, me, M and M, Loona, but the fuckin' baby doesn't count!"

Mackie watched the outburst without any concern.

"We need someone else, and if we don't get them then we can't go on! FUCK ME! Okay, okay okay, maybe if I reach to Fizz he'd be willing to—"

"Hey!" The voice caught their attention. Ember was jogging their way, a drink in either hand. Finally reaching them she panted, catching her breath, "Okay… black coffee?" She handed it to Blitzø. "Sparkling pomegranate… whatever it's fucking called?" Handed off to Stolas. "Alright, anything else?"

Oh. Perfect. Blitzø grinned, "Yeaaaaah, know what, something just came up. Tonight we got a special assignment, we're all doing a show at Treasure Island, and you're gonna be part of it."

Her face twisted in derision. "A show? What, like a circus act or something?"

He felt his temper flare. "First of all, don't you dare fuckin' diss circus performers, alright? That's some real shit that needs real talent and they deserve your fucking respect. Second, no actually. It's gonna be like a competition, and when we win we get a big fucking jackpot. I'm sure you noticed business hasn't been so hot, so we need that money if you wanna keep getting paid. Got that?"

Ember had been giving her usual attitude all through his diatribe… until he reached mention of the jackpot. That perked her up alright. "How much is the jackpot?"

"Few thousand, should get us through the next month. I imagine business will pick up after that." Oh he could see she was actually interested now. Come on, ask for it, he wanted to dare her to do it.

"I want a piece of the jackpot."

Here we go. "Yeah, what makes you think you deserve it, huh? You think you got a choice? I'm your fuckin' boss, you do what I say!"

"If you were a good boss, you'd know people work better with an incentive. Maybe I'll just go and be shit on purpose, doesn't matter to me."

"Oh you wouldn't fucking dare."

She shrugged, "How important is it for you?"

He grinned. "You little shitbag… alright, you get half his share," thumbing at Stolas.

Stolas blinked. "Wait a minute—"

"Full equal share," Ember fired back.

"Ten percent. Take it or leave it."

Ember opened her mouth… then considered. "Fine. Deal." And they shook hands. "What even is this show anyways?"

The sky was already dark when a floodlight illuminated the massive ship outside Treasure Island. Blitzø strutted along the railing in a black-and-gold captain's jacket and hat, grinning at the crowd of hellborn cheering from below. "Oh, music to my fuckin' ears…" He turned and looked up at the flag: black with a red circle with horns, the I.M.P. logo, flapping proudly in the wind.

Ember followed his gaze before looking about the rest of the crew; the two shorter imps had sailor outfits, the female with a baby imp strapped to her front. Stolas had an ornate jacket of his own, the hellhound looked like a tavern maid, and she herself had been forced into striped leggings and a puffy shirt that was at once too baggy around her body and too skinny for her arms. And it itched. "Fuck…" She tried to back herself to the wooden mast and scratch herself using it.

"Allllright my mateys, front and center on the deck!" Blitzø drew a saber and faced them, all his sharp teeth showing. He growled to try and match the famous 'pirate voice', "See those scalawags across the water?"

The 'water' in question was the artificial lagoon of course, and sure enough on the other ship they could see the rival team: a half-dozen sharks leering at them, as a flag bearing shark teeth flew above them.

"That there's our enemy! We have-th to get across and battle them and tear down-eth their flag, uh…" He leaned on swordpoint, eyes dropping, "Fuck I think I'm just talking old-timey now."

Loona let out a sigh of relief. "Thank fuck, that was already getting annoying…"

"Hold ye tongue, landlubber!" The other male imp cut in — Moxie, Ember believed his name was Moxie? Like the word? "That there's the captain ye speakin' to! We be headin' into perilous battle on the high seas, thar be no time for runnin' ye mouth like some scurvy dog!"

Oh he was clearly getting into this. Blitzø grinned, pointed his sword at him, "That's the fuckin' spirit! I might just promote you to First Mate!"

The imp's eyes glittered, "Aye, really Captain?!"

"HA! Fuck no! But good initiative anyways! Okay, in normal people talk, get on their ship and get their flag, protect our flag. Now get the fuckin' cannons ready!"

But Ember was more focused on the sword he was brandishing. Wait a second… she felt for the handle of the dagger she'd been handed, and pulled it out. Really inspected the edge, running her thumb along it. "Ow!"

It was sharp.

"Wait! Wait wait, these are real?!" Ember looked around in alarm.

"Uh, yeah?" The hellhound looked like she'd just exclaimed water was wet. "Where's the fun with toy shit?"

"I don't know, stage swords or something!"

Blitzø was shoving a cannon sideways, "Relaaaaax, it's just for fun anyways! They're not trying to kill us!"

"Really?"

"Yeah! At most you'll lose an arm or an eye or somethin', nothing to worry about!"

"You better get me my FUCKING MONEY!"

"What'd we just say about talking back to the captain?! Millie, ready?"

"I'm SO fuckin' ready!" She swung out a pair of axes, not the slightest inconvenienced by the baby on her front.

"Mox! Got your flintlocks?!"

"Arrrr, ready t'swing over and give 'em a taste of Neptune's wrath, captain!"

"Keep up the good attitude! Stols and Loona, keep this deck clear, and kid, make yourself useful and stay in one piece! Ready, set, hit the fuckin' deck!"

Before Ember could say anything he yanked a string on the back of the cannon and BOOM! Two more reports answered from the opposite end of the harbor and Ember instinctively hit the ground. Timber cracked as a pair of iron balls slammed into the side of their ship. "HOLY SHIT!" She crawled forward on her belly, trying to stay in cover as the rest of the team jumped into action. The three imps seized ropes and swung out of sight. A clash of metal, some gunshots, and three sharks now leapt onto their deck.

Ember choked as she scrambled onto her feet. Just in time too, to find herself staring down a lanky shark with wild blue eyes and a curved cutlass. "Ohhhhh, you guys were really desperate huh?" He advanced with a chuckle.

Ember darted backwards, drawing him up the deck. The shark followed. She leapt over a pile of rope and rounded the steering wheel. Still he kept up. Now she wished she had one of those pistols too, just LIKE THE ONE HE WAS DRAWING NOW! She threw herself behind one of the masts as the bullet whizzed just past her!

"Come out come ouuuuut," the shark purred as he drew closer, "I just wanna say hello! You weally scared of a widdle demon like me?" His voice turned mocking… and his shadow betrayed where he was.

The moment Ember saw him pulling his arm back to swing, she ducked and thrust her blade out at whatever body part was closest.

"FUUUUCK!" Right in his thigh!

His cutlass clattered to the floor. Without another thought Ember seized it by the blade and pulled it away, dashing towards the others. Loona grappled with one of the invaders using a chain. Another climbed the rope netting towards their flag. Stolas clung to an ankle, and the shark was trying to kick him off.

"Move!" Ember shouted, "Move move move, look out!" Stolas' eyes widened and he obeyed as she swung her new weapon and cut one corner of the rope ladder. The shark shouted as he swung through the air and slapped against the side of the mast. Her heart pounded. She looked about.

Her original assailant limped at her. One hand clutched his bloodied leg. The other held her dagger. His eyes seemed somehow even less friendly than before.

"Hold him off! PLEASE!" She shrieked and tossed the sword at Stolas before beginning to scale the mast herself. Ember carefully avoid where the other assailant hung tied up, writhing in the ropes, one eye fixed on her. Clawed fingers strained to grab for her. Never mind that, keep going. Up, up, and then out onto the spar that the ropes were on.

Ember was suddenly very thankful for all the time she'd spent on jungle gyms.

She could see down below, Stolas barely holding off the shark with a wavering swing of the blade. Not the fighting type, just like it'd said in the book. Ember scooted herself out more on the wooden spar, grabbing one of the ropes, sliding back. Okay, just hold on, hold on, no matter what…

Her stomach flipped as she let herself fall. There was a sharp pain as the slack rope snapped taut! But it still gave her enough horizontal motion to get her across the water, much to the astonishment of the crowd, and then she let go and tumbled across the deck of the enemy ship.

"Kid?!" Blitzø was pressed against a crate nearby. A gunshot, more bullets just past her head! Ember scrambled into cover beside him. "The fuck are you doing over here?! Is shit that bad on the other side?!"

"I don't know, okay?! You didn't give me a part in the plan!"

"You're here so that we can fucking qualify!"

"Well fuck you!" She looked around as Blitzø rose out of cover to fire again. Millie clashed steel with another crew member, and Mox had resorted to rolling across the deck in a mortal wrestling match.

…That meant…

Ember darted out of cover and went for the mast. She began climbing. "FUCK! She's going for the flag! Stop her!" Quickly she crossed her hands and swung around just before a shot splintered the wood right where she'd been. One more step, another step, keep going, don't stop, don't look down, don't think about how high you are or how fast the sharks might be climbing after her even when she could hear them catching up! All the way up, to the crow's nest, right to the flag, she pulled herself over the side and collapsed, gasping for air.

Clawed fingers gripped the other side of the crow's nest.

One last burst of adrenaline. Ember scrambled up and seized the flag right when the shark vaulted over. She gave a tug. He grabbed the other side and yanked it right back towards the mast. Another tug. Another yank. Another tug. Another yank and he was pulling her closer. Another tug and she stepped forward. Back and forth, his sneering fangs and demonic eyes just within biting distance.

And within punching distance.

Ember socked him right in the nose. He recoiled with a yelp, both hands on his snout, right before she gripped their flag and gave a final pull. The fabric ripped. She tossed it over the side of the crow's nest.

The crowd went crazy.

Ember clung to the wooden siding of the crow's nest, panting for breath, looking down below. Mox and his foe flopped out beside each other, no longer grappling. Millie raised her axes into the air in victory. On the other ship one of the sharks had thrown his cap to the deck and was stomping on it.

It was slow-going getting down, bit by bit, hearing the crowd continue to roar around her. Reaching the deck, Blitzø was on her. "Holy SHIT kid, you won it for us!"

"I… yeah…" It was still sinking in.

Suddenly he grabbed her shoulders and was shaking her — but, in a happily excited way. "Why didn't you fucking tell me you were so good at this!?" Finally he let her go, cackling in victory, leaving her reeling from the rather rough expression of camaraderie. Ember stumbled back, her heart racing anew.

Yet… she found herself smiling too.

Chapter Text

The first thing Flauros ever saw was light. A gasp filling his lungs. His very first mouthful of air: that's why he didn't know right away how foul it was.

"There, it's all right…" A hand guided his body to sit up, a body that Flauros just now realized he had. He blinked, still trying to draw breath with freshly born instincts. "Calm yourself…" Flauros' vision began to sharpen. The light was a hungry yellow, a crackling orange, rising in a column from a fissure of rock. Silhouetted against it was a face of alabaster white, red eyes, golden hair, all leading to an scarlet robe. The face spoke with a cautious smile, "Can you understand me?"

Flauros opened his mouth. A response formed in a language he didn't remember learning, and he whispered hoarsely, "Yes…"

A brighter smile. "Very good Flauros. That's your name: Flauros. Here, look at yourself…"

The figure conjured a small disc of silver, slipped it into his hands. Flauros lifted it and beheld himself for the first time: spotted fur, a strong snout, piercing eyes, rounded ears, whiskers. He brought clawed fingers to his cheek, carefully stroked along his own skin. His mouth hung open as he beheld his own form. Then he looked back. "Who are you?"

"My name's Lucifer. I'm your creator. Can you stand up?"

"I… can try," Flauros set the mirror aside, and began trying to rise to his feet. He clung to the hand Lucifer offered him. A bit wobbly. Careful, careful… he let out a gasp, finding his balance, looking down at himself standing now. "Thank you, this… is incredible…"

Lucifer smiled still. Now that his vision was getting better and better, Flauros could read… a hint of sadness, in that smile. "Welcome to Creation, Flauros. Or at least our little corner of it."

Finally he looked about. They were in the plaza of a large villa, and beyond the long low roofs were craggy peaks just barely visible against the shadow hugging the landscape. The only light he could see came from the column of fire flowing from the ground… and a globe of white up in the sky, sheltered behind white feathery wings. Lucifer followed his gaze, before sighing.

"That's not our part of Creation, I'm afraid."

"What is that?"

"That's Heaven."

"Can we still go there?"

"No."

"How come?"

"We just can't."

"…Why?"

Lucifer finally snapped, "We just can't!"

For the first time Flauros felt shame, having disappointed his creator. He tried to pivot, "Did you make all this too? Heaven, all of this?"

Lucifer shook his head, "No no. I wish, it would look a lot nicer!" Thankfully a grin returned to his face, making Flauros relax. He held out a palm. "Let me show you something…"

Flauros accepted his hand, and then Lucifer suddenly leapt! He effortlessly lifted Flauros into the air too, both briefly slight enough to alight atop the villa's roof. From here, Flauros could see that they were on a raised hill, with a road winding down to a village of hovels with flickering lights. More figures milled about, difficult to discern, squabbling here and there. Glowing caverns pockmarked the landscape; Flauros could hear the clinking of pickaxes and shovels on stone, boring down...

"This is the Pride Ring of Hell. Flauros, you are royalty here."

That got his attention.

"You are immortal. You are now one of the Goēteia lords."

The groaning lords, the wailing lords… Flauros' excitement at being royalty quelled a bit. "Why such a name?"

Lucifer pointed up at Heaven, giving Flauros permission to consider it again. "Heaven is Paradise. We are not allowed inside. I am not, you are not."

"W…" Flauros thought better of repeating his question. But Lucifer nodded, gesturing for him to get it out. "Why am I not allowed in?"

"Because I made you. Because you were born here in Hell, and we exist in a state of sin. We are separated from God, the Father, and…" He blinked for a moment, looking away, his expression darkening, "we always will be. Does that explain the name now?"

Flauros struggled to take it all in, his brief innocence punctured and deflating. "Forgive me, I don't understand… Have I done something wrong? Am I punished for just existing?"

Lucifer shook his head. Again, Flauros was treading towards something his creator didn't want to speak of. "It is unfair. But I'll tell you what you can do about it. On another world, a race called humans are building their own civilization. They're not like us. They are mortal. And they are Heaven's favored people."

Flauros' stomach clenched. "I see… they must be better than us."

At that Lucifer laughed. "Oh, far from it! Far, far from it…" HIs laughter died away, and his voice grew more bitter. "They are short-sighted… arrogant… petulant... They have been crowned stewards of Creation and they squander it. They must follow only a few simple rules to reach Paradise at the end of their life. Even if they do break them, they only need to apologize…" He gestured to the sprawling huts at the base of his villa, "These are the thousands of souls who couldn't manage that. They are sent here as Sinners, damned in the same way we are. Except they actually had a chance…"

Flauros looked down now, at the souls of the damned back and forth. They were supposed to be better than him? For what, just because they were born a human?! He was royalty, and these mortal creatures were offered the paradise he was denied! His heart hurt, it began to burn. His clawed fingers clenched.

"You want to hurt them, don't you?"

He caught himself. "I'm sorry, is that… not right?"

Lucifer didn't answer at first. He turned back to the sinners below. "I have… low opinions of them too. Sometimes I see the way they plead for mercy, over and over, only to continue making every wrong decision. The way they feel entitled to Paradise, immune from their consequences…" He shook his head. "In those moments I do find myself hating them. It's part of my punishment. The most wretched souls that they produce, they are sent here to me, so I see them."

Flauros swallowed. "Punishment? For what?"Lucifer kept his eyes flitting over the hovels down below. No response. By now Flauros had learned to not press the matter. He fell quiet again.

"…But even if I could leap down there and rip them apart, it wouldn't help. No… I keep my eyes lifted…"

He raised a hand up under Flauros' chin, and tilted the leopard's gaze back to Heaven in the sky.

"They're the ones who created Hell in the first place. They're the ones who barred us from Paradise. They're the ones who chose to privilege humanity above all others. They hate us. Duke Flauros, it's very right to be angry at the injustice done to you, to all of Hell. Hold onto that anger. That is righteousness."

Flauros nodded, trembling. His stomach felt sick, but it quickly broiled over as he felt his fury roaring hotter.

"You will join your brethren to go to the living world. There, you will lead the humans further astray. You will take advantage of their nature, and lead them to the damnation we already face. This is how we will carve out our justice from Heaven, bit by bit… This is how we'll prove to them that we prescribe the true order to Creation." Lucifer looked back, eyes glowing red even in the firelight. "Can you do that?"

Thousands of years later, Flauros gripped the soldier by the back of her neck as he drove his sword through her. A scream, ripping flesh as he tore his blade out, the body hitting the ground. Delicious music.

All around him, the city of Manchester felt the full fury of Hell.

Imps leapt roof-to-roof. Infestors broke the minds of officer after officer. Hellhounds and sharks and baphomets flooded every street and every alleyway. The sky churned an unholy black, clouds like clotting blood flowing overhead, spreading north. Humanity fled before them, their mighty warriors no match to infernal power. All of it, making excellent television on hellborn screens across the globe as camera drones flitted about.

Flauros grinned, sauntering forward to the fortified positions at the end of the road. A simple road bump in their advance, really. His crimson cape billowed dramatically behind him as he advanced. A dozen men were already trying to fall back, weapons trained on him. Bullets hammered all over his body, not a single one piercing even his outfit. Pathetic. Even with all their intricate technology, their automatic firearms might as well be sticks against steel. The Goetia let them keep firing, just to flaunt his invulnerability, before raising his sword and swiping.

An arc of fire swept out, blasting an entire side of the fortification away. The remaining soldiers jumped at the display, shouting, tried to retreat. Flauros eyed the tank they had here, the cannon turned against him.

With a sneer, he swung his sword up. This time the blow sliced right through the armor. The whole thing buckled and lifted into the air, before the two halves twisted back to the ground.

"Is this what your technology got you?!" He cackled, grabbing a man cowering on the ground, holding him aloft with a wild grin. "Take a good look around! THIS is what we should have done with you a long time ago!"

The terrified soldier looked about at the infernal sky, the fires burning throughout. Something on his radio crackled, "…fall back, get below…" Flauros tossed the human aside, not even caring whether he lived. His paws stepped through what remained of the barricade, pads and claws against the broken cement. He now set his sights on a massive bronze statue, commemorating some historical figure these mortal bugs found important. Another swipe of his sword, and the head flew off, embedding into the asphalt yards away.

This was a nice place to install a statue though. He'd have to remember it for later.

Screams from the building next door. The hellborn had gotten inside and were chasing the inhabitants out, what few had elected to remain. His pulse still racing, Flauros lifted his blade to point at them. Their terrified faces filled his heart with sadistic glee.

"Do as you please with them…"

Snarls, fangs, tearing, more shrieks. Flauros looked over the skyline of the city just as lightning cracked the sky. He could see it now, a new Hell for all of them, built upon the bones and ruins of humanity. Creation reshaped by its rightful heirs, its rightful lords!

"Whoa, fuck!" An imp pointing to the sky, "They're actually trying to fly in!"

Flauros turned at the shout. The mortals' air superiority was no longer a factor in the war, with the cloud cover interfering with the electronic equipment all their modern craft had. Any missions flown had to be dangerously low to the ground without any sensors or interfaces. But sure enough, a trio were coming in now.

Flauros sneered again. He gave his blade a dramatic twirl before swinging it overhead. An arc of energy sheared a wing off the rightmost plane, fire blossoming as the jet veered into a tower. The remaining pair only managed to get off a single missile before peeling away.

"Go ahead, run! Try your best! I am a lord of Hell, and you will all bow at my feet!" He roared, baring his fangs, lifting his sword dramatically, the city crumbling around him.

Night turned to day.

Heat flooded his back. Something on his arm. Flauros cut his roar off. Air rushed past as he lowered his hand again, fist still clenched around his hilt.

The cloths around his arm burned. His fur blackened, curling like embers. His skin smoldered. Pain. So much pain. Flauros' mouth hung open as he heard screams again, this time not just of humans, they couldn't see, they'd gone blind. He turned to see the city being consumed not with the familiar crackle of fire, but something purer. Buildings shattered, trees vaporized, human and demon alike swallowed up, cars hurled through the air as the shockwave raced forward and caught the Duke of Hell like a leaf before the wind.

The last thing Flauros ever saw was light.

Chapter Text

Stolas stood in the entranceway leading to the elevators, at the base of Asmodeus' tower. He didn't want to sit on a bench; he felt like that'd be resigning himself to wait longer. At the same time, though, the way he stood there… it felt so awkward.

At least most attention focused on the screen nearby. Live coverage as Duke Flauros tore through human troops like it was a sporting event. A number of hellborn, especially imps, watched in rapt delight. They let out a loud cheer as he grabbed a soldier, ran them through with the sword. Stolas averted his gaze. Flauros had always been one of his least favorite among the Goetia, always so brash and eager to kill. Now there he was, having the time of his life, people cheering him on. It made Stolas feel sick. He was sure people could notice his dicomfort, he felt like they were staring.

Know what, fuck it. He crossed his arms. Let them stare, he had something important to do and he was going to get it done no matter what! Damn his sentence, he was still Stolas, his name still meant something! Incubi and succubi, as well as other hellborn and humans, went back and forth around him, looking up at his steely face. He was not going to be ignored.

An incubus put a finger to his earpiece, before gesturing to his partner. "We got a problem guy coming down, let's be ready…" They strode up the steps; Stolas watched them position themselves in front of an elevator. The doors opened to reveal an irate shark.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOUR SIN!?"

"Sir, it's time for you to leave—"

"Don't you give me that SHIT! Your fucking boss is a moron! I'm not gonna do a goddamn thing he tells me to do, it's my RIGHT as a hellborn to do what I want with my fucking humans!"

"They're not your humans, we don't do that here. Leave, now, or we'll make you."

"Oh, I'm so scared, pretty boy lust demons gonna hurt me? What you gonna do, jerk me off until I—"

A punch landed across his face. The shark collapsed into one of the incubi's arms. "Fucking Hell. Come on, grab his feet…"

They carried the demon out, followed shortly by a group of humans in suits all sporting red buttons labeled Local 226. Their eyes were all wide, and Stolas saw one lean over to another, "I can't believe that actually worked…"

"Stolas?" A succubus got his attention. "Ozzie will see you now."

He walked to the upper level, having to duck his head to even fit inside the elevator. It whizzed him up, up, up to the very top of the spire, before opening into a wide lounge. Slanted windows offered a panoramic view of the nighttime city, the lights gleaming brightly as ever on the Strip, dimmer towards the residential areas.

"Stolas?" Asmodeus' voice called from past his line of sight. Stolas followed and found the Sin of Lust behind his bar, mixing himself a drink. His faces all betrayed a deep fatigue. "Please tell me this is just a pleasant house call."

"Ah…" His confidence faltered. "I was… actually hoping you could help me with something…"

All of Asmodeus' eyes rolled as he sighed. He swiped a bottle off the counter and added it to his concoction; Stolas could read 'extra proof' from here. "Let's get one thing straight before you begin."

"Okay?"

"You are not Prince Stolas right now. You are Stolas, the ex-Goetia who ranks no higher than the imp you slept with."

"I understand." And he did. He and Asmodeus had had good rapport in the past, but ranking had to take precedence over that.

Asmodeus nodded, before capping and shaking his drink. "Before I hear you out, you need to hear me out. Because you're one of the only other Goetia I can have this conversation with normally. Deal?"

Stolas nodded. "Very well. What's on your mind?"

His drink slammed back onto the counter. Asmodeus let his heads hang, and the exhaustion suddenly overtook all his expressions. "Do you have any idea what running this place is like?"

"Judging from the fact you're preparing something that would kill a mortal, I'm going to assume it's not an easy task."

"And I thought the Lust Ring kept me on my toes!" Asmodeus reached down and presented a glass that would be a full punchbowl for a human. "Do you want some?"

Stolas raised a hand in polite refusal.

"Good. I didn't really want to share anyways."

He watched Asmodeus put the finishing touches on his cocktail, before glancing around. The decor still appeared refined, upscale. It still looked like the attraction it had been before the invasion; most of the other Goetia would have turned it into a sadistic torture dungeon by now. Not surprising, honestly. "Your previous court visitors made a bit of a scene downstairs. At least, one of them did. I'm assuming you sided with the humans?"

Asmodeus thumped the cocktail shaker down on the bartop. "I'm keeping the peace. We're going to get more out of the mortals if we give them some concessions, if we just keep taking shit away from them then we're not going to—"

"Asmodeus." His sharp tone got the King Sin to look at him. "You don't have to play that game with me."

He kept staring at Stolas for a few moments. Then he sighed, rubbing his main head with his hand. "Right. I keep having to justify myself to everyone else, it just becomes automatic."

"At least your incubi and succubi are taking it well."

"For the most part. Everyone's in such a frenzy, and nobody wants to stop and think about what happens after we beat Heaven. We're going to rule Earth. So why does everyone want to trash it along the way?!"

Stolas shook his head. "Blitzø and the other imps I'm staying with, they've been having the time of their lives. I think they're just excited that they're not the bottom of Hell's hierarchy any more."

"I understand that. I even sympathize with that. Satan's not entirely wrong when he says the hellborn have been wanting to let off steam. But they all keep taking and taking, and soon we're going to lose everything we thought we'd win. " He pinched his eyes, letting out another sigh. "Does that even make any sense?"

"It does. And, I do agree. I've never been one for fighting much myself. So, I appreciate that you and I are on the same page."

Asmodeus' eyes rested on the bartop. "I know that Lucifer signed off on all this, I know that I'm supposed to hate the mortals because Heaven loves them so much. We're supposed to resent them because they're privileged in the cosmic order."

"…But?"

His gaze met Stolas'. "They didn't ask for that."

"Of course not." Stolas watched Asmodeus pick up his drink and come over to him. "I appreciate you thinking strategically. Hopefully more of the Sins, and more of the Goetia, will follow your example."

The Sin's brows lifted. "Be careful who you say that to. Don't forget you're excommunicate, Satan will make the time to haul your ass back in front of him for insubordination."

A perfect in. "Actually… that's what I was hoping to talk to you about. If that's alright."

Asmodeus froze.

"…May I speak?" Stolas was so unused to having to ask.

"…Very well, you've held up your end to our bargain. What are you looking for?"

"I need a retrial. Please, just another—"

"No."

"Asmodeus!"

"I want you to save your breath."

"You said you would hear me out!"

"Know what, fine." Asmodeus gestured to one of the seats nearby, before lounging on one of the couches with his drink in hand. "Tell me what your argument will be. How will you argue against yourself confessing to conspiracy? Conspiracy against the Sins of Hell, no less. It's your word against yours. What are you going to say to defend yourself?"

"I'll figure something out! But I know it takes a while, can you at least get me in front of Satan so I can—"

"Figure something out?! Here I was, looking forward to speaking with someone rational tonight…"

Stolas took a deep breath. "It might be my only chance to see Octavia again before the world ends."

Asmodeus finally quieted again.

"I know I'm rushing in without a plan. I know I have almost no chance. But that's better than waiting for the clock to tick down while doing nothing. Please, I can't have us both die with her thinking I don't care about her."

Asmodeus sat up more. "What makes you so sure we're going to lose?"

"What makes you sure we're going to win?"

An uneasy silence between them. Asmodeus hadn't even taken a sip of his drink yet.

"Please, I just need some way to see Octavia again. Some way to get close enough so I can talk to her. Okay, a trial's a bad idea, we don't do that. But something. You can help me with that, right? Please..."

Before Asmodeus could answer, the door dinged open, and a frantic voice, "OZZIE!"

"Huh?" He sat up all the way now, watching as his partner came sprinting over. "Fizzy, what's wrong?"

"Turn the TV on! The battle, the, whatever the fuck Flauros was doing!"

"You know I don't watch that shit." His brow furrowed. "I thought you didn't either…"

"JUST TURN IT ON!"

Both Asmodeus and Stolas were on their feet as Fizzarolli scrambled for the remote for the screen on the wall.

Private Kim groaned as he dragged himself out of the sewer drain. Burning dust choked his lungs, and he coughed again, taking another rasping breath, finally pulling himself all the way onto the street. Shakily rising to his knees, his head pounding, he looked around in the flickering firelight.

Bodies all over the ground. Buildings barely standing. Rubble, debris, broken pieces of homes and cars and furniture scattered about. A stuffed animal facedown beside the twisted remains of an imp. An overturned armored carrier thrown against the corner of a bank. Power lines spilled across what had been an open plaza.

Above it all loomed a pillar of nuclear fire, and its still-swirling head punching a hole through the fraying cloud cover.

Kim knew it had been coming. He still hadn't wanted to believe it. Just something else that the higher-ups said was technically on the table but wouldn't actually come to pass. The Crown, Parliament, the Ministry of Defense would never actually launch a strike on British soil. They wouldn't hit their own men on the ground.

Yet the proof towered overhead.

The pain in Kim's head throbbed. With a hiss he pressed his palm to his temple. He'd heard the warning come in, he'd managed to get below ground. Yet the impact had been so terrific it'd shaken a chunk from the ceiling of the sewer line. He'd been knocked out for who knows how long. Pulling his hand away, he could see it covered in thick scarlet.

He staggered forward, couldn't walk straight, could barely think straight. Find a unit, try to regroup, wait for orders. Wait for orders. Would orders even come? Or would they not bother, and write off everyone here as killed in action? Already putting together consolation packages for families, for his parents? Would they even bother in the midst of the war?

A whine to his right. Kim recoiled. One of the demons, a hellhound, with the spotted sleek build of a Dalmatian. It slumped against a low brick wall, clutching a blooded arm, dressed in only a tee and pants. Kim panted harder, despite the dust only choking him more, and patted his hips for his pistol. Long gone. His eyes scanned the road, found a rifle, grabbed it before staggering over to the hellhound. More whining, the ears went down, the demon lifted a palm and cringed away. Kim struggled to aim. Those eyes, something about them just like Buddy's back home…

"Stop it."

The hellhound only cowered even more, quietly begging, a long low whine. God dammit, it had to look and sound just like a real dog!

"Shut the fuck up…" he gasped out, "You're not… you can't do that to me now, I'm…"

The dog squeezed its eyes shut. No! It's NOT a dog! Kim struggled to keep his thoughts straight… he struggled to stand, actually… suddenly the rifle had more utility as a cane than a firearm, he set the muzzle against the ground, leaning forward, groaning. Not his legs, they were starting to give…

Kim fell forward, twisting so that at least his back hit the wall, and he slid down barely half a meter from the hellhound. He kept panting. The hellhound did the same. Kim could see the wound more clearly now, a piece of glass embedded near the demon's shoulder blade. Black blood trickled down the sleek arm, pooling over the cobblestone. It was practically dead already.

"Is…" the canine gasped out. Kim struggled to focus. "Is this… a draw then?" A weak laugh.

Kim just turned his head away, no mood for jokes.

"I wonder… where, the duke is…" The canine kept trying to speak. "Must've been… blown a long way away, to not be back yet… bet he'll be real mad at me, for not ducking…"

Fuck. Of all the people to be stuck next to in his final moments… Kim could see the hellhound lean back again as it struggled to find something to say. It wanted to talk at him? Fine. "What's it like?"

"…What?"

"Hell. What else would I be fucking asking about?" Kim lolled his head to the side, so he could look the demon straight in its red eyes. "I'm not going to Heaven. They didn't take me already. What do I have to look forward to?"

"It's… well, I didn't spend much time in the Pride Ring. That's where all the sinners go. But, you'll land there. And then you have your own city, and… I-I don't know, whatever you want, I guess."

Kim narrowed his eyes, still panting, every breath ash in his mouth. "That's it?"

"I don't know. What else would there be? You get your afterlife." The hellhound suddenly coughed, drawing a rasping breath. Something that sounded like a sob at the end.

"What are you upset about? You're just going home, right?"

Another weak laugh. Those canine eyes met his again. "Nah… no, it's, we don't get afterlives. It's… it's not in the cards for us hellborn."

Kim blinked. "So… what happens then? When you die?"

"Nothing. Just… nothing. Oblivion. I don't even really know what that's going to be like, it's… our souls just scatter, really…" Those eyes began to water. "If they… if they ever let you into the other rings, you should see Gluttony. It's very nice, for Hell at least. It's… the sky, it's like honeycomb, and there's food around every corner, and…" Another rasping breath. "I know it's Hell, but it's not… that bad, really. Not the worst way to spend eternity…"

Another pang. The human pressed his eyes shut trying to ride through the throbbing headache. This darkness he was looking at now… is that the hellborn saw? Was this all they could expect for the rest of time? Or even less than that…

A gasp beside him. Kim looked again, expecting the Dalmatian to have died. Instead its gaze had turned to the sky. By now the clouds had thinned and broken, and through them winked a few stars. "Are those… is that where Heaven is?"

"I…" Kim didn't know why he wanted to answer. "I don't know. I think they're just stars."

"Stars…" The hellhound leaned back, head against the wall, muzzle lifted towards the pale pinpoints of light far above. "They're beautiful. And you got to see them, every night?"

Kim didn't say anything. It didn't dull the demon's weak smile.

"Wow…" the voice barely registered above a breath now. "I almost… didn't get to…"

The smile faded. Eyes unfocused. The hellhound slid sideways… and he left a black smear against the brick, as he collapsed against Kim's shoulder.

Kim blinked, mouth hanging open. He didn't even have the energy to move any more. He just… he needed a nap, that's what he needed. Kim closed his eyes, let out a sigh.

His mortal body never moved again.

In the cracks of the cobblestone, red blood pooled with black. All around them, demon and human, soldier and civilian, scattered in callous randomness between lingering fires under a toxic sky.

Picking over them was Lucifer.

He'd crossed a thousand miles in mere minutes, a golden streak across the sky, and now he desperately searched collapsed buildings and abandoned motorways. Flauros? Where was Flauros? The dust, it was so hot, so thick, he coughed and tried to press his sleeve over his mouth. Where was he?

A red cape crumpled over something in an alley.

"Flauros!" Lucifer called out, landing and shaking the body. "What happened? Why didn't you answer me? Flauros!" He gripped the leopard's shoulder and flipped him onto his back. Half his face had been scorched, fur gone, skin burned. Lucifer leapt to his feet again, staring with wide eyes. Flauros didn't stare back at all. He was dead.

A Goetia was dead.

No.

Lucifer shook his head, backing away. No. No, this was impossible. More dust, it burned. Lucifer coughed again into his sleeve, this time even worse than before, something hacking up from his lung…

He froze. His stomach sank worse than it ever had before.

His arm trembled as he lowered it from his face. There, on the white fabric of his sleeve, were droplets of golden blood. For the first time in his entire eternal existence, he felt conscious of every breath he took, every beat of his heart, the ground beneath his feet as he stumbled backwards. His eyes darted around at the bodies, bodies in every direction.

Lucifer turned and bolted into the air.

Chapter Text

Art by... me!

Octavia had been dozing off with her head on her desk when her uncle woke her up and rushed her to Rome. She barely registered any of his words, but she could tell something was wrong; he wasn't as gleefully pompous as usual. A step through a portal, and they were now standing in Lucifer's new palace. But he wasn't there, at least not in the open. Still struggling to catch her waking brain up, Octavia followed as they were guided down a long hallway. Andrealphus fumed aloud, "Of all the fucking… couldn't direct us to the proper room to begin with…" Yet she could still hear the anxious edge in his voice, and felt it rubbing off on her, too. 

Finally they were directed into a narrow but lavish alcove. Octavia stepped through the door — and the shock nearly drove her back again.

Lucifer slumped on an ornate chair, centuries old and priceless. He was topless… and his alabaster skin was spackled pink with blisters and rashes. His face twisted in pain. The other Goetia crowded around him. The image seared into her mind like a brand.

Duke Vepar crouched at Lucifer's side, dabbing over the diseased skin without looking. Instead his eyes searched the pages of the tome he'd opened on the seraph's thigh, flipping through desperately. Prince Orobas had Lucifer's jacket lying on a nearby table, trailing his fingers over the surface in careful examination, equine face fraught with confusion.

"Make way! Make way!" President Buer brushed past Octavia, arms filled with both modern and medieval books, dumping them on the table much to Orobas' annoyance.

Lucifer shook his head, only managing a groan, grabbing Octavia’s attention again. She fixated on the edge of the markings… and she could see them starting to fade. He was an eternal seraph after all. The fact that he got wounded in the first place though, and his healing was taking so long…

The leonid President Marbas ushered Andrealphus closer, gesturing over Lucifer's body. "Do you make anything of this?"

Octavia watched him lean in. Andraelphus swept his fingers just above the spoiled skin, not daring to touch. "Your Majesty, did Heaven break their truce? Did you see them?"

"What? Weren't you watching the broadcast? It was a human weapon that did this!"

"This is no time for comedy, Marbas."

"You did not see it! There was a blast of light, all the cameras died, Lucifer went there and now he's sick!"

Andrealphus' attention turned now to the president, "You will not speak to me in that tone! I outrank you, you will treat me with the respect I deserve!"

"I am just informing you what happened! We don't have the time to—"

"ENOUGH!"

Lucifer's red eyes had snapped open. Everyone in the room fell silent as he glared around.

“You. Give me your hand.”

Andrealphus obliged. Lucifer forced a handshake and looked into his eyes. 

“You will tell no one what you’ve seen here, you’ll tell no one that you’ve seen me in a vulnerable state, you will diagnose and treat me and then you will not speak a word of this again. In exchange your soul will be left intact. Deal?”

Octavia watched her uncle somehow pale even whiter than he already was. “Of course, your Majesty!”

Infernal chains wrapped around their hands as they sealed the deal. "Call the other Sins and Goetia. Now." His gaze fell on Octavia. "Come here, take the oath. Then get her out of here, I don't want her seeing this."

"Of course your Majesty. Come here," Andrealphus motioned her inside. Octavia hesitated, but accepted the outstretched hand. The moment the chains faded, she was promptly whisked out the doorway. Her uncle slammed it shut after her.

A short time later, the activity moved into the crossing of the basilica. The papal altar had been removed, and instead a familiar dais had been built in its place. Once more the Sins and Goetia took their place, this time with far graver attitudes. Lucifer suppressed a wince as his burns suddenly smarted again. He found himself retroactively grateful for all the time he’d not been in pain before this. 

At least he'd heal though.

Four imps dragged the covered body through the portal down the middle aisle where the Goetia were seated. Lucifer checked that everyone was present and attentive, before gesturing to one of the imps. She grabbed the covering now, and yanked it away. 

Flauros was still just as dead.

The reveal sent a shockwave through the gathered demon lords. "What is this?!" "How did we allow this to happen?!" "Did Heaven break their treaty?!"

Good. He'd gotten through to them. Lucifer let the fear grip them a few moments longer, let them start to really think about the shit they were in now. Then he leapt into the air, spreading all six wings, and his skin gleamed brighter than sunlight. “ENOUGH!” 

The angelic display cowed his creations into silence once more.

Returning to a more approachable appearance, Lucifer similarly felt the return of that old thrill of leadership. It had been centuries since he’d actually needed them to listen to him. Not that they’d done that good a job of it in the past, but hopefully they would now that it mattered. “This was not Heaven’s doing. This was the humans. Not the sinners, still-living humans.”

Andrealphus scoffed, “The mortals? There must be some kind of—”

“Some kind of WHAT?” Lucifer suddenly zipped close, his face merely inches from the marquis’. The peacock immediately quailed. Oh it’d been years since he bothered to rip into this asshole. “Go ahead! Finish criticizing me, clearly it’s more important than what I was saying!”

“I… I, no, your Majesty. It wasn’t.”

“Oh it must be!” Lucifer shifted himself upright again, folding his arms as he hovered just above Andrealphus. “Come on, say that I made a mistake! Go over there, take a look at the body and come here and tell me that I made a mistake!” 

“Your Majesty, I didn’t mean to imply that!” The peacock scrambled to appease him, “I just find it absurd the mortals could build such a weapon alone, they must have had Heaven’s help! I had a slip of the mind and tongue, I spoke without thinking and with poor phrasing, I assure you it will not happen again!”

“None of you have known the mortals as long as I have, none of you know more than me what they are capable of!” He backed away to the dais before landing once more, red eyes burning as he surveyed his fell congregation. “Any other valuable comments, or may I be allowed to speak?”

No one dared. Lucifer sighed before continuing. Behind him, a montage of humans with various weapons began to play. 

“We have spent the past several hours in the mortals’ libraries, to find out the nature of the weapon they used tonight. See, humans have been unable to kill you for millennia. Never has a mortal weapon so much as drawn blood from a Goetia.” Knights gave way to soldiers with rifles, trebuchets faded into artillery. “Even as their methods progressed from stone to steel, even as they drew fire from the elements of the earth, no blade or bullet or bomb has ever harmed one of Hell’s nobility. We thought these ‘atom bombs’ weren’t any different…” All the imagery faded. Lucifer shook his head again. “But they are.”

A small orb appeared, orbited by spinning rings. Most of the Goetia expressed confusion. It looked like no celestial body they had ever seen. 

“The mortals managed to peer down to the microscopic layer, and they found this. Countless specks that serve as the basic building blocks of all Creation. So tiny that they escaped our notice for millennia. Yet the mortals seized upon them,” a pair of hands grabbed one of the rings, before the whole display shrunk out of sight, “and unleashed a power we never thought they’d have.”

Bright white erupted from the dais. Unsettled whispers. Lucifer watched as they shielded their faces briefly from the blast behind him; his shadow stretched all the way to the end of the basilica.

“This is no ordinary fire. This is not even hellfire. This is something far worse. Even its ash poisons the ground, the water, all life mortal and immortal.”

Suddenly a wet splattering sound. One of the imps that dragged Flauros in had doubled over, vomiting black onto the marble flooring, coughing and spluttering. Lucifer felt the back of his neck prickle. His hand pressed against his forearm, still stinging in pain. The other imps rushed their comrade out of sight, apologizing for the unsightly mess. Thick tension hung in the air, freezing everyone in place. 

Lucifer finally broke the silence, “We have to rethink our strategy. Andrealphus, send your niece up here again.” 

He watched the young princess slide out from her pew. As she approached, Lucifer circled the dais. Asmodeus just nodded with a grave expression. Beelzebub gestured him closer, her face mortified. “When you were there, were you able to save any of my hellhounds?” 

“I’m sorry Bee, everyone I found, they were already dead.”

She leaned her forehead on one of her palms, staring blankly at the stone tabletop before her. Most of the others didn’t seem as torn-up about their respective creations. Satan once again sat far above the others, and he watched Lucifer stride by his feet. He snorted, “They would unleash such barbaric weapons on us… a new low for their wretched race…”

Lucifer shook his head, completing his loop, and guiding Octavia to the simulation again. She bowed her head, “Your Majesty, I’m sorry.”

“...What?”

“I, I didn’t see last time that they had this weapon, and that means I ran the simulation wrong, and now there’s been a big disaster and—”

He cut her off with a wave of his hand. “Don’t wanna hear it. You didn’t know about these, so you didn’t factor them in. Don’t apologize for stuff that’s not your fault, it wastes everyone’s time.”

“Yes your Majesty. Sorry, your—” He gave her a pointed look. “Right.” 

She set her hands back in place. The globe projected above them again in a bright blue. This time around, golden light showed where Hell reigned. With his seraphic sight, Lucifer could see the little models of buildings, the billions of lives being considered by the enchantment. Billions of data points, billions of cogs measured. “Alright. Show us what happens if we continue our conquest as normal.”

Octavia closed her eyes. The gold began to spread. Across the globe, hundreds of little portholes opened, little launchers drove out into the open and raised up, submarines emerged from the oceans. Thousands of warheads arced through the air. Then they burst, shattering the domes shielding Hell’s incursions.

Fiery red began to consume the gold.

Lucifer swallowed as he watched sharks throwing their arms over their faces, imps scurrying for cover, hellhounds grabbing each other before shattering in the simulated blasts. And around the demons, humans were trapped in the cities with them. Numbers floated in the air tallying the death count; the hellborn casualties now rose far more quickly than before. Octavia’s face blanched as the scenario played out in her mind’s eye. 

“Again,” Lucifer gestured. 

The simulation ran again. The same outcome, the same carnage. 

“Again.”

“Wait, hold on.” Bee pointed at a few of the trajectories. “Some of these… they’re not going towards us.”

Lucifer glanced across the map. Splotches of red appeared on cities they hadn’t invaded. Strikes hit far from Hell’s reach. Of course… Even in this, the literal end of the world, old rivalries and suspicions and paranoia would make the human governments distrust anyone else’s use of these weapons.

“...Again.”

Ten more runs. Ten more times ending in total destruction and crippling defeat. Sometimes they struck all at once, sometimes they showed hesitation before hitting the metro areas. Sometimes they even targeted each other first before hitting the hellborn. But the end result was always the same. 

“New approach. Subterfuge, cloak-and-dagger, we have a ceasefire but we portal in to take them down slowly while we work on our weapon. Run it with that approach.”

This time a few days passed peacefully. An assassin found out, the missiles launched. 

“Again.”

Sabotage disrupted, the missiles launched. 

“Again!”

Infestors sent to every base they knew of to take over the missiles, all at precisely the same time. Submarine fleets were impossible to track, the missiles launched.

“Okay, what if we pull back and they try to cooperate?”

Octavia squeezed her eyes shut. This time around it was just Hell’s forces struck… until one nation decided to hit an incursion on someone else’s territory. And then the same result.

“Again!”

This time their alliance barely lasted before they struck each other and then Hell. 

Lucifer turned to face Octavia again, “I said make them cooperate!” She gave no sign she heard him. “Again!”

Once more they managed to hold together only a few days after hitting Hell, before someone got trigger happy.

“Alright! We cease fire, we don’t provoke them at all! AND they try to get along! Best case scenario.”

Octavia gulped, and she willed the scenario into existence. Now the missiles didn’t fly… and the days ticked on. No apocalypse. 

“So we simply don’t advance any more?” Satan sneered down just past the edge of the globe. “Millennia of waiting for this moment, and you ask us to simply not take what we’re owed?!”

“I know it sucks! I know it!” Lucifer fought back the urge to come to blows with him right now. “But what else are we going to do?! Some of those weapons, by the time we know they’re coming, it’s too late to even teleport away. Until we can figure out some kind of solution, some kind of agreement, we can’t disturb them any further!”

Their staredown was interrupted when a tiny virtual Heaven materialized between them. 

That’s right. The countdown. 

Lucifer watched helplessly as the legions of Exorcists streamed out from the golden gates… and they were met by the long slow arcs of the missiles. Heaven blasted apart, smoldering chunks of buildings falling to Earth. The same carnage again. 

He was finding it difficult to breathe suddenly.

“Again. From that best case scenario.” Octavia rewound it. If Hell had their superweapon ready, their strike on Heaven would only provoke retaliation. The same outcome. “Again.” If they allied with some of the most powerful nations, the remainder grew afraid and struck first. The same outcome. “Again.” If Lucifer tried to cross the Earth at his fastest speed, he’d stop only a fraction of the missiles. The same outcome. “Again.” Another time. Every time. Heaven obliterated and Hell annihilated. City after city wiped off the map. Forests set ablaze, grasslands poisoned, seas sterilized, the sky rendered toxic, Creation itself envenomated by a thousand blows. The globe no longer bothered turning back to blue after every run. A constant scarlet glow as the world ended over and over. The Goetia rose from their seats in silent horror. All three of Asmodeus’ faces were slack-jawed. Bee had two hands over her mouth. Even Satan’s claws dug in on his armrests. And Lucifer… he realized he wasn’t even asking for the simulation to repeat any more.

He turned to look at Octavia. She stood over the plaque, eyes wide, shuddering, shaking. The world ended again. Her mouth hung open. The world ended again. She didn’t even look what she was doing. The world ended again. It was all she could see. Again. Her body began to crumple. Again. Her hands stayed on the plaques. Again. Lucifer ran over to her. Again. His arm caught across her torso. 

Screams. Fire. Eight billion souls worth of terror and suffering and regret in the instant it took him to tackle her to the ground away from the globe. It flickered out of view above them. 

She finally let herself gasp, blinking away the visions. “Oh my stars… oh… oh we’re… I’m sorry…” The young Goetia finally noticed Lucifer kneeling over her. “I… I’m sorry, your Majesty…”

He opened his mouth to remind her what he’d said about apologizing… but just shook his head. “You did well. Don’t worry.” Slowly he rose onto his feet, helping her up.

“Okay, maybe they don’t know!” Another one of the Goetia piped up from the rows, more than a hint of desperation in her voice. “Maybe the mortals haven’t realized yet that Flauros is dead! We have his body here, right? Maybe we can bluff and make them submit before they find out!”

Right on cue, Lucifer’s phone buzzed. Shit. He put the caller up into the air. 

Admiral Barite was waiting there, a binder in her arm. The last she’d called he hadn’t bothered to take a good look at her. Yet this time around, he could tell that her face no longer sagged with dread. In fact, as she saw him… she probably could read a tell on his face. It was the only way to explain the confident way the edge of her mouth curled up. 

They knew. 

“Lucifer,” she repeated. “We want… to negotiate.”

The truck’s tires skidded to halt on the dirt road just inside Cameroon’s borders. Striker jolted awake at the sensation, before swinging down to the side of the cab. “What’s the matter? Why we stoppin’?”

“New orders,” the baphomet inside set the brake. “We hold the line. Ceasefire.”

“WHAT?! You can’t be fucking serious!”

“Take it up with the prince, not me.”

Striker growled, “Can’t fucking believe this. Some idiots think we’re actually gonna strike peace…” He hopped off the footstep of the truck, rubbed at his crystal, willed himself back to Andrealphus’ huge fucking palace. “Hey, that army’s a bust, they’re convinced we got ourselves a cease fire or somethin’! Got someone else I can tag along with?” 

His laughter was cut off by a flurry of hellborn and humans carrying all of Stella’s belongings from her room. “Don’t you dare drop ANY of it! Each one of those is more valuable than all your lives combined!” Her shouting wasn’t colored with her usual sadistic delight… 

All through the palace hallways, Striker could see servants of all species carrying away the Goetias’ belongings, along with whatever they could loot from the palace for themselves. Octavia rushed past, still stuffing the last of her things into a duffel bag and struggling to carry it. At the sight of a human struggling with a vase, she dropped her bag to help him, shuffling it outside. 

He kept turning in place, so much so that he almost didn’t see Andrealphus sweep past. The marquis didn’t even acknowledge him, only focused on his old-fashioned telephone, “—new place, at once, in the heart of Paris. Right in the most crowded neighborhood there is.” He pointed a painting out to a pair of imps. They began taking it off the wall, as Andrealphus went back to his phone. “I don’t care if they’re hellborn! I want that place ready now!”

 Striker just kept staring. Hours ago he’d fallen asleep to the sound of jeering hellborn clustered in front of a screen. And now… “...What the fuck happened here?”

Chapter Text

Artwork by Charlotte, @lottieandluno.bsky.social!

If I find out you took advantage of that mortal to any degree, I will drag you to Father’s feet personally.

The words had hung in Lucifer's head incessantly since Sera hissed them at him. He'd been offended at them, he would never force himself on Lilith! And yet as time had gone on, he wondered if that was really what Sera had meant. The terrible thought nibbled bit by bit at his peace. Now he wandered back to the edge of Eden where he and Lilith had withdrawn to, away from the disapproving sneers, away from the prying and judging eyes of his siblings.

In his hands he held an apple..

He felt the gravity of every footstep on the grass as he scaled the slope, approaching the mountains ringing the garden. The trees grew close to the sheer rock face. Behind them he'd carved a cavern into the living stone. A small but cozy home for her and himself.

And their six little ones, of course.

"Hey Asmodeus," Lucifer spotted him outside, "What are you up to?"

Asmodeus, the Delight of Love, was picking flowers near the cave's entrance. The little guy barely came up to Lucifer's thigh. "I wanna give these to someone."

"Yeah? I think they'll like it! Here, come inside, it's dangerous out here, remember?"

"Okaaaay…" He stepped back in, rounding the bend that kept their home out of sight.

The stone walls surrounded a smooth solid floor; Lucifer's sandals and Asmodeus' bare feet clicked and padded along respectively. Around the corner now was the large main entranceway, illuminated with stars that Lucifer had lit from his fingertips, with hallways leading to more rooms. Lilith stood naked at one of the walls, turning her head only enough to see Lucifer from the corner of her eye: "Welcome back!" A tiny star floated near her head as she patted paint against the stone. She composed a mural of Eden, of Heaven, the angels and the sky and everything around it. Already she was a natural, so… well, creative. Maybe that's why I love her, Lucifer mused to himself.

His attention flitted to Asmodeus though, toddling over to Beelzebub, the Delight of Food. She had gathered a pile of lychee and plopped down beside it, peeling open each one by one; the mound of fruits was taller than she was right now. Bee didn't stop peeling even when she noticed Asmodeus approaching her. The little guy nervously stood there for a second, before thrusting the small bundle of flowers at her, bashful, unable to meet her gaze.

Lucifer chuckled to himself… but then saw another pair of them starting to creep closer to the lychee pile. Mammon, Delight of Treasure, motioned for Leviathan to go forward; the Delight of Ambition took another step and stretched out her hand, trying to swipe some of the fruits for herself and Mammon…

Satan cut them off with a hiss. On all fours he flared his wings, arched his back, and showed his teeth. The duo collapsed backwards and scrambled away, their plot foiled. Bee turned and stared after them, no real reaction. She was too busy munching.

Lilith sighed, turning to face them. "You get along now, okay?"

"She's right, listen to her." Lucifer snickered as he approached Mammon and Leviathan; Satan sat before them now, looking on as severely as he could for a creature not even the size of a bobcat. "Here, Bee?" She looked up. "Could you share some with these two here?" She nodded and went back to her own fruit, Asmodeus sitting down beside her now and weaving the flowers into her fur. "Go ahead, Mammon, Levy?"

Satan gave a curt nod and allowed the pair to pass, each of them grabbing a handful and running off to the other corner of the room. Lucifer crouched down and picked up the small dragon. Satan squirmed a bit, but relented.

"You did so good protecting Bee's food," he grinned. "You're our little Delight of Righteousness, aren't you?"

"You have to change that name."

Lucifer blinked over to Lilith. "What? Righteousness? I don't know, I could be more specific, the Delight of Justice maybe? You like that Satan?"

"I mean, 'Delights'. It feels such a mouthful. Maybe the 'Joys'? Or the 'Pleasures'?"

"I thought you liked the name! We can't change it now, it'll confuse them!" Lucifer was smiling though, even as Lilith rolled her eyes.

"They have their own names too. They'll be okay." She shook her head, before finally noticing what he held. "What's that?"

Right. Lucifer suddenly felt nervous again, nervous about what this might do to Creation… and nervous about what this might do to Lilith. For a moment he considered telling his six little creations to go in the other room in case this went for the worst-case scenario. But… no, that might just prime Lilith to react even worse. He took a deep breath, before holding up the apple. "This… is from the tree of knowledge of good and evil."

Lilith smirked. "You walked all that way to bring some home to eat?"

"Yes, but not for me to eat. For you."

Her brow creased in confusion. "But it's not for humans to eat."

"I know. But still, I want you to."

"I thought it was dangerous?"

Lucifer had to take a second to think about how to answer that. "No. It's not dangerous. If you eat it, you'll become like me. Like Sera, the other angels. You'll become wise. It's… it's important wisdom."

Lilith accepted the fruit casually. She had no idea the gravity of what she was doing, but she was clearly still puzzled. "I don't understand. Everyone said not to eat it. But you say I can eat it?"

"I know. I know it doesn't make sense right now. But it's very important to me that you eat it. And then, I need to ask you something."

The human looked at the apple in her hand. Still confused. But finally she made her choice, lifting it to her lips. The skin gave just a small resistance. Then her teeth broke through. Juice dribbled from the bitemarks as she chewed and swallowed. She went for a second bite… before hesitating. Her eyes blinked several times, and her breath caught in a shuddering gasp.

Lucifer wanted to comfort her as her entire worldview suddenly ballooned outward. But he steeled himself. "Lilith, I… have not been fair to you. When you found yourself infatuated with me, it was an innocent love. And I indulged it, because I found you exciting. I found you enthralling. You're… I'll say it. I found someone in Creation that I know I could never outshine. I love you, I do. But it wasn't an equal love…"

He turned away from her, pacing to the far end of the room. Belphegor snoozed in the corner, the only one missing this confession.

"You and I were not supposed to be together. That's a word you only understand now, 'supposed to'. Words like 'should' and 'should not', they mean something to you now. I knew the risk I was taking with our love, a love that was not supposed to happen. But you didn't. You couldn't have known the risk. Now I find myself second-guessing… did I, in my own self-interest, take advantage of the most beautiful being, the most beautiful soul in all Creation?"

Lucifer paused again. He could just hear her footsteps walking towards him. He dreaded turning around; right now he could still imagine she was sympathetic, that she still loved him. Yet he could also imagine her face broken, tearful, accusatory, angry.

"I did this so that you can know. So that you can decide your fate for yourself, for real this time. If you wish to leave me and return to Adam, return to Sera and to Father, I will accept all the blame and beg them until they accept you back. I will never bother you again. It will be my mistake and I will pay the consequences for it."

Again she stepped towards him. "Lucifer?"

Her voice was soft. Fuck. He braced himself, and turned around.

Lilith pressed her lips to his.

Lucifer felt his body electrify. Her hands massaged over his hair, caressed his cheek, and now he kissed her back, his celestial hands over her flawless skin.

Finally she broke the kiss, straightening back up. Her eyes glistened as she looked up at the stars. She gasped for breath. "I… should not have done that?"

His head tilted, joy tempering at the mixed signals. "No?"

"No…" She laughed, "no I should not have. I should not have! Oh…" She looked back at him again. "It makes me want to do it again."

And she did kiss him again. She pressed herself against him, and Lucifer began to nuzzle into her neck, relishing the warmth of her mortal body, his own soul overflowing. Days of fretting, of dreading, all of it flushed out of him now.

Lilith held him back to look down… and she paused their love-making. "Are you… crying?"

He paused. Was he? Yeah… his eyes felt tight and watery, and he sniffed. "I'm sorry, I know that's not very attractive. Just, you have no idea how much this means to me."

"No, you have no idea what this means to me. Thank you, Lucifer. Really. Thank you, this is… wow…"

He could not describe the relief flowing through him right now, both that Lilith was taking this well, and also that some dark scary evil cloud hadn't suddenly invaded Creation. A ridiculous idea, sure, but the way Sera had talked about this… "By the way, ah… part of the fruit, it can make people self-conscious. Do you want me to get you a robe, or…?"

Lilith looked down at herself, running her fingers over her bared breasts and belly and hips. "…I don't know, I'm still feeling good about this."

"Hm. Maybe that side effect doesn't work on humans…" Lucifer thought to himself. "If you change your mind though, I can—"

"Wait." Lilith suddenly had another thought. "I can see now, what everyone meant, and… and Adam…" She stilled, the smile fading from her face. She took a step back from Lucifer. "Adam… oh I want to hurt him!"

The sudden pivot in emotions caught Lucifer off-guard. "Wait wait! Just remember, he's the same way you just were! He didn't know any better!"

She sighed, putting her hands through her hair. "I know… I know, but still I don't like what he did to me. I didn't like it already, but now I feel… I feel…"

Satan pawed at her feet, letting out a reassuring squawk. Lilith looked down.

"Yeah… it feels unjust. It feels… wrong…"

"I know. I know."

Then she got an idea. Lucifer could already tell what it was.

"Lilith, this much was already dangerous. If I try to give Adam and Eve the fruit, we're going to get in a lot of trouble." It felt good to be able to just explain that openly now. "They shouldn't have that knowledge."

Lilith watched him speak. Then she narrowed her eyes. For the first time… she could pick out a lie. "You don't believe that."

She knew him all too well. Lucifer averted his eyes. "I mean… sure, if Adam knows the difference between right and wrong, then we could reason with him. And get you an apology. And things will work out smoother. And it'll make my life a lot easier."

She nodded along. "…But?"

"But this has been the one big rule so far. Everybody wants to keep you humans innocent. You can't be evil if you don't know how to be."

"…How can we be good then, if we don't know that either?"

Lucifer nodded. Lilith seemed to be taking this well so far, and the question kept buzzing about in his mind: should he give Adam and Eve the same knowledge? No matter how many times he told himself it was a bad idea, no matter how much he insisted to himself the matter was settled, he still kept coming back to it.

"Maybe people will get mad, but think how much better it'll be if we can get Adam to do good! We can't do the right thing if we don't even know what the right thing is! Heaven will calm down and understand eventually." She took his hands, prompting her to meet her gaze again. Her shining, radiant gaze. "Lucifer. Please."

Sera stepped through Eden, relishing again the light of the day on her skin, the song of the birds in the air. It almost distracted her from the thoughts of where her brother was.

"Michael?" The angel looked up at her voice. "Have you seen Lucifer the past few days?"

He just shrugged. "Probably off sulking again."

"I know, but something just feels… off. It's been a while since I've seen him."

"He came through here earlier today to grab some food. He's fine."

Sera still didn't feel convinced. She bid Michael farewell and kept going. Her soul was still restless. Was it the wind feeling a bit colder? Were the animals frolicking a little less than usual? Her long robe swished over the grass as she went tree to tree, flower to flower, animal to animal. Everything as it should be, happy and healthy and fruitful.

She shook her head. Probably nothing. It was her job to worry about things and sometimes, she did it a little too well. Just stick to the routine, everything will be fine.

Speaking of fruitful though, the two humans should have procreated by now. She should check to see if Eve was with child yet.

"Eve!" Sera's voice carried through the garden. "Eve, where are you? I want to speak with you!"

No answer.

"Eve!" Sera kept calling and walking. Sometimes they got up to shenanigans, like any other mortal creation would, but it didn't usually take this long for one of them to hear her voice and come running eagerly. "Adam! Eve!"

Something ran through the brush.

Sera casually glanced, expecting a deer or some other startled creature. Wait… no, the figure was bipedal. She halted to peer through the branches and the brush. The figure was gasping, shivering, and the fear intensified as Sera began to look closer. She could just make out the bared skin, hear the distinctive higher voice.

"…Eve?"

A frightened squeak. Sera felt her stomach churn.

"Eve, why are you scared of me suddenly? Did I do something to frighten you?"

"…N-No. No, Sera."

"Then why are you hiding from me? Is this a new game you and Adam invented?"

"I… yes! Yes, it's a new game!"

Sera felt relief. "You frightened me, young one. I would like to hear about your game. But, can you step into the open here? I want to see you."

Another frightened squeak.

"We can continue your game afterwards. I promise. For right now though, I'd like to see you, to see that you are healthy."

"Okay Sera…" A trembling hand reached from the brush. Sera shook her head.

"I need to see all of you. Please. I know you like this game, and I do want you to tell me about it! But it is very important you let me see you fully."

The hand lingered. "I… I don't want you to see me."

Sera's worry returned. "Did you get injured? Are you sick? If so, you must let me look at you!"

"No! No I don't want you to look at me! I'm— I am not presentable!"

"What do you mean? You are made in Father's image! You and Adam both! You are the most presentable two beings in all of Creation!"

"No! No, I'm, I don't want you to see me like this!"

"Like what?!"

"Naked!"

Sera felt her skin prickle. "…Who told you that you are naked?"

"N-Nobody!"

"Eve! Who told you that you are naked?"

"Nobody did!"

"Then how…" Wait. No. No. "…Eve."

"…Yes, Sera?"

"Are you really frightened of me as part of a game?"

Silence.

"Did you tell me an untruth?"

"…Sera, please, I-I was scared! Okay, I was scared! Please don't be angry! It was wrong!"

It was wrong. It was wrong. Sera trembled all over, pointing to the open grass before her. "Eve. I want you to stand here in the open, right now. Or I will be very very angry."

The mortal whimpered. But bit by bit, she shuffled into view, her back hunched, one hand shielding her groin from view, her other arm folded over her breasts. Her skin had gone pale. Her eyes filled with terror and tears. From the corner of her mouth, a trail of dried juice. "Sera. Please…" She held one hand out, cowering away. "Please, don't be angry…"

"Where is Lucifer?"

"He's still with Adam!" Without hesitation she pointed. Sera leapt into the air and flew over the treetops, just catching Eve screaming out more apologies behind her. He wouldn't. Not even he would be stupid enough, selfish enough, to actually think this was a good idea.

Sera could hear their voices.

Quietly as she could, Sera landed behind foliage on the other side of the clearing, ready to dart out in case there was still time to save Adam. The human sat on a rock, his back turned towards her, facing Lucifer who had an awkward forced smile on his face. Adam stared down between his own legs, and now Sera could hear him: "…I just can't believe it."

"Right! I know, it's pretty incredible!" Lucifer nervously laughed. "It's not even bad to be proud of it, but you don't need to make it your whole personality or anything…"

"But it's so big!" Adam cackled. "Oh this is amazing! That was the best thing I ever ate! Thanks Lucifer!"

"I appreciate that, really, but we should talk a bit," Lucifer gestured, trying to get through to Adam, "about what to do, now that you're more aware of your actions and how they affect others."

"Yeah… Yeah, I wanna show this to Lilith, she'll love it!"

"Okay, no, that's not, okay, you understand that she didn't like it when you did stuff like that?"

"Well maybe she did deep down!"

"No! She didn't! Adam," Lucifer clapped his hands together to get the human's attention, forcing the smile even harder than before, "Adam listen to me, okay? You know what it means when something is wrong now?"

"Yeah, I shouldn't do it."

"Yes! You got it! And it was wrong to treat Lilith like that, to treat Eve like that."

"Okay…"

Lucifer's smile twitched. "…And so, therefore…?"

"So, uh… I shouldn't act like that?"

"Yes! Yes, thank you! Oh you get it! See, that wasn't so hard!"

"I guess that makes sense…" Adam's words wiped away Lucifer's smile. "But also… I kinda don't care? It was still fun!"

"You don't…" His pupils shrank. "No, you should…" Sera could see him shake his head, hands reaching up to grab his hair, "Oh no, oh no no no no, Adam! Adam, think about it! I know you can understand this! You have to get this! Please, you have to…" Something made him pause. Then his lip curled. "Stop grinning like that and take this seriously!"

Lucifer grabbed Adam's shoulders. Sera suddenly burst into view, "GET YOUR HANDS OFF HIM!"

Adam whirled around, his expression wide with shock. And Lucifer… Sera had never seen him quite so horrified in all his life.

Lucifer found himself driven face-down into the dirt, two celestial spears on the small of his back. Lilith was similarly pinned down beside him, both facing a wide semicircle of angels. Sera led them, more furious than she'd ever been before. Adam and Eve clung to each other nearby, watching the proceedings unfold. "Please, Lilith had nothing to do with—"

"SILENCE!"

Sera's voice rattled the sky above, the very ground under his belly. It echoed over and over.

"You have no right to speak here. Not after what you've done."

Lucifer groaned, trying to turn his head. He could see Michael flanking him, his face terrible. Hateful even. This… this was not like the other times he got in trouble.

"Lucifer, you have been told over and over about Father's order for this universe. You have been warned, over and over, that your attempts to commandeer it for your own desires were not appropriate. And you were specifically ordered to not give the mortal humans the knowledge of good and evil. Yet you ignored every warning, and defied the most basic commandment of Creation. Do you deny it?"

He panted.

"Do you deny it?!"

Lucifer turned his head, chin now on the soil, glaring at her. "Am I allowed to speak now?"

They answered his snark by pressing the tip of the spear into his back, prompting a groan. The blade wouldn't kill him, but it hurt. "If you want any sympathy from us gathered here, you will save us your insolence!"

"I was asking a question! You told me not to speak and then you want an answer from me, nnnngh!" The spears pressing into him again.

"Let it be known that he does not deny the accusations against him! Lucifer, you have shattered the sacred order of Creation. Your fate will be decided here and now by the Hosts of the Divine."

"Are you serious right now? Can't we just start over again? We don't need to go through this, we've done it before, we'll begin again with a blank slate! It's just so…" He fell silent though, watching Adam and Eve's faces pale in terror at his suggestion. "I-I mean—"

"SILENCE!"

Again the spears on his back. Again, the pain.

"How flippant of you. Why should we begin all of our work, again, on account of your error? Why should we end these lives to absolve your guilt? Why should we trust that the next time, you will not simply do the same thing once more?"

"Because I'll learn! I promise, I'll be better! I'll listen and I won't try to do anything like this again!"

"Sera," an angel suddenly landed beside her. "We searched their home…"

"And?"

The angel glared at Lucifer… and held up Asmodeus and Bee in one hand, gripping the scruffs of their necks. A gasp through the crowd. "What are those things?!" "More creations, we should have known!" "What even are they?!"

"No…" Lucifer gasped, seeing more angels land with the rest of his creations apprehended. "No, please, they didn't do anything wrong. They're not dangerous!"

"Get over there." Bee and Ozzie were roughly tossed through the air, letting out tiny screams before bouncing and collapsing by Lucifer's horrified face.

Satan let out a tiny but defiant roar. He twisted himself around enough to swipe his claws at his captor's arm, ripping through the robe's sleeve. "AUGH! It attacked me!" The little dragon dropped to the ground and bounded forward, planting himself in front of the offending angel, roaring again and spreading his wings as dramatically as he could.

"Filthy little monster."

A boot slammed right under Satan's jaw. "NO!" Lucifer felt as if he'd been kicked too. The little dragon flipped over to his back, knocked out, before being unceremoniously rolled towards Bee and Ozzie, and joined by the three others. Sera looked over the proceedings with a terrible look on her face.

"Lucifer… you won't change."

"Sera! Please, let me—"

"I said be quiet!" The spears again, but this time he braced himself through the pain. "Just another demonstration that you value yourself more highly than Father's rules, more highly than Creation itself."

"Sera, I was trying to—" More pain.

"It is clear that you would sooner destroy Creation than admit your own faults."

"Just let me—" The spears felt like they'd pierce his skin.

"Lucifer, I am sorry, but we cannot let that happen. Therefore, we the Hosts of Heaven decide that—"

Lucifer took a deep breath, "I WAS JUST TRYING TO FUCKING HELP!"

All jaws dropped. All proceedings halted. One of brawniest angels sighed and fainted away.

"All I was trying to do was help the humans know what to do! You wanted them to remain sweet innocent little animals their entire existence? It was not fucking working! They were already not getting along! And yeah, you know what, I was the only one who could see that! I was the only one who wasn't too stupid to see what was fucking obvious! Yeah, go ahead, I'll admit it, I did that! I was the one who made humans as smart as us! Because you know what, maybe they should know the difference between good and evil! And maybe it was a really FUCKING STUPID IDEA to not let them have it in the first place!"

The spear had lifted from his back. Nobody moved. Nobody said a word. They were all staring open-mouthed at him.

…Wait. No. They were staring behind him.

Michael had turned all the way around to watch the approaching figure. Lucifer could hear feet on the grass, walking up behind him. His rage died. When he spoke, his voice felt fragile:

"…F-Father?"

A deep inhale. A heavy sigh.

Lucifer tried to turn his head one way, then the other, but he couldn't get the right angle to look back and see him. "Father… Father, please, I…" He looked at Lilith. For the first time, she too appeared frightened.

Sera nodded. "…We, the Hosts of Heaven, condemn you and Lilith to death."

No.

The single spoken word resonated with such gravity. Such weariness. Such anger. It hung in the air as an absolute rejection; Lucifer felt it more than he heard it. Sera startled back as she was vetoed. Then she nodded again. "Yes, of course Father…"

She stepped forward behind Lucifer, leaving him and Lilith pinned there before the wide crowd. He looked around at them all; some gawked, others were disappointed, still others angered. The only friendly faces he had were Lillith… and Asmodeus, as he dared to stir, starting to try to get up. Lucifer fixated on him. "Hey. Hey, Ozzie."

He blinked, rubbing his rightmost head, clearly confused.

"It's going to be alright. Just look at me, okay? Don't look around, don't look behind you. Look at me. Everything is going to be alright."

Asmodeus immediately disobeyed, watching as Sera now strode back into view, her head bowed. Everyone waited for her to speak with bated breath. She took her place before Lucifer again, eyes closed. When she opened them, she seemed far less angry than before.

"Lucifer, I should apologize. I reacted in anger at what you did, and it almost led me to do something I would have regretted for all eternity. Father has made it clear that despite your many… many transgressions, He still cares for you."

He gulped. "I… that's, that's great! I really appreciate that, I care for him too!" Lucifer pulled his knees closer, and started to push himself off the ground. "I promise, I'm really going to—"

He was shoved back to the ground. Sera shook her head sadly. "Father loves you greatly, Lucifer. And in that love, He has decided to respect your wishes."

"…What is this? What do you mean?"

"You will never be happy here. You have made it clear that you will not follow Father's ordinance. Therefore, you and Lilith are both cast out from Heaven."

It took him a moment to process what she'd said. "…He's what?"

"You are to exist separated from Him. You will exist separate from Paradise. You and your work are to live apart from His Holy Majesty, and the rest of Creation."

"No, please, what about Lilith?!"

"She has made her own choice as well, and Father will respect her choice."

"Bullshit." Lucifer saw her wince at the harsh language. "And what about these little ones? They didn't make any choice at all!" He gestured over his six creations, "Yet you brutalize them!"

Sera lifted her head. "They are your Creations, not Father's. They also exist in a state of separation from Him. A state of sin. I know they cannot help it, but their very existence renders them sins."

"How?"

"Because you made—"

"How are they bad? Their existence celebrates Creation and its bounty! Sera!"

"Your exile is effective immediately."

"SERA!"

"I'm sorry, that it has come to this."

"SERA!" A pair of seraphim on either side lifted him off the ground, arms under his, and he writhed about, shouting words he wouldn't remember. Lilith did the same as she was wrestled to her feet; she even tried to bite an arm. Asmodeus had roused Bee, the pair walked with bowed heads at spearpoint, their fellows still knocked out and unceremoniously carried away. A portal now, ringed with flame and lightning, a black void waiting for them. A realm outside Creation. Lucifer instinctively backed away; the arms forced him closer. "FATHER! PLEASE!"

He twisted his head around. Sera spoke with a heavy sadness to Adam and Eve, shaking her head, pointing out of the garden. Their downcast faces. Eve's sad pathetic face. Adam's insufferable pouting face. Look at them, playing the fucking victims… Lucifer wrenched free, only to be tackled again, but it got their attention:

"This is all your fucking fault! I just wanted to help you miserable little mortal sacks of mud." He spat the word out as he was forced back up onto his knees, glaring at the two humans now cowering behind Sera's wings. "Wipe that look off your fucking faces. All I did was let you choose, and you needed only one day to fuck it all up. You don't deserve this world. You don't deserve fucking Paradise."

"That's enough!" Lucifer heard the harsh voice yanking him backwards. He dug his feet into the soil, his wings flailing, writhing his body to resist at every inch. The bountiful hills. The flawless sky. Paradise. He tried to get just one more glimpse of it all.

Lucifer felt his feet slip into the void. Darkness engulfed him, and Lilith and his creations. They fell.

Thousands of years later, Lucifer banged on the gates of Heaven. St. Peter no longer awaited him, the podium had vanished. "Come on, come on, Sera! I need to talk to Sera! Please, it's important! Actually important! COME THE FUCK ON!"

Finally he saw her approaching.

"Oh thank fuck. Sera, things have changed!"

She sighed heavily. "I don't know what kind of trick you're pulling, but it's not going to work. We're not giving you any more time, and we're not letting you in to try any—"

He held out his arm and pushed back his sleeve, showing her the burns on his skin. Yeah. That shut her up.

"…How did this happen?"

"The humans. They, you know how they built 'atom bombs' last century? You know, around the time you tried to arrest me for something I didn't do?"

"I had heard of it, but I'd still been meaning to get around to reading about them. Things blur together over time."

"They can kill us."

"Lucifer, surely there's some mistake."

He grabbed at the golden bars of the gate with a ferocity that made her startle back. "Look at me. You know me. Would I debase myself by admitting to you I got hurt if I didn't think it was really fucking important?"

She stayed silent for a long time, mouth hanging open… Then she sighed again. "What are you saying we should do then?"

"Cancel Armageddon."

"That's not possible."

"Yes it is. Tell everyone the party's off. Cancel Armageddon, or Heaven will be reduced to ashes. That's not a threat, that's a warning. We ran the enchantments dozens of times, in the very best-case scenario, the humans wait until Heaven attacks and then they destroy everything. There's no outcome where anyone wins."

"…Even if I wanted to, I can't."

"Why not?!"

"The mechanisms are already in motion. You have already invaded the living world, we are not going to let it go unanswered."

"We'll go back to Hell! Everyone's willing to go home and pretend this never happened!" The lie rolled off his tongue effortlessly.

"Even if I believed that, and even if I believed that humanity was destined to turn these weapons on us—"

"They will! Sera, please listen to me!"

"Even if I believed everything you were saying was true, you know the other angels, the Exorcists. Their war machine is running full speed. If I try to stop them, they won't listen anyways. We need to put our trust in the plan."

"The plan?!"

"Father's plan."

"SERA! CREATION IS GOING TO BE DESTROYED!"

His voice echoed through the sky in all directions. Lucifer clutched to one of the golden bars, fingers trembling, He'd never felt this upset since… since Eden.

"Please… please, look at me, I'm fucking begging you. Okay, take a good look, Sin of Pride, begging you. Don't do this for me. Fuck me. But I know you loved Creation as much as I do."

Sera's eyes softened. "Lucifer… I don't think anyone loved Creation as much as you did, and I'm sorry that the dreams you had for it didn't come to pass."

"Just talk to Father. Please. Make him understand. Make him stop this."

"I know it seems hopeless now. But there is great ingenuity in Heaven, and good people. Things have always worked out in history. The same will be said for this final chapter. Neither of us have seen His full divine plan yet." Sera paused. "I'm sorry that this is the way things turned out. Please, go back home. Be with your daughter for the last four weeks."

Lucifer stared in disbelief… and then let out a weak laugh. "You sound like me back in the garden, you know that?"

"…Lucifer?"

He turned away, walking to the edge of the clouds, looking over the battle-scarred planet. "'There's good people, things will work out.' Yeah, I thought that too. That if humans could just understand good and evil, that they'd obviously pick good. But they didn't, did they? Of course you're optimistic, you see the best of humanity. You have all the good people up here with you. The artists. The inventors. The peacemakers. All the proof you need that the divine plan works." He shook his head, a sad smile on his face. "Do you know who I get to see? The people who burn the artists' work. The people who rob the inventor and leave him broken. The people who murder the peacemakers. I see a species willing to burn Creation to the ground just to prove a point. Sera…"

He looked back at her.

"…You have no idea what humans are capable of."

Chapter Text

An imp stomped up the winding road, cursing. "Stupid fucking 'recon mission', look at the fucking mountain and tell us what you see, I'll tell you what I see, it's a fucking mountain…"

After the ceasefire with NATO, and matching treaties with Russia and China and India, most of the planned raids and offensives had been halted. No more massive land grabs, no more loot to be had. Instead, for now, the hellborn were stuck doing recon missions.

Correction: imps were stuck doing these missions.

Skolsky had been instructed to keep away from roads, to not be seen by authorities out of fear of provoking a response. At this point he didn't give a fuck though. He'd seen nobody. Apparently there was something important around here, but he'd seen no signs of a secret base or anything. Or really any further sign of human activity.

With a heavy sigh, he headed for a little outpost here, with a National Forest sign out front for some stupid-ass park for the humans to ogle at. Whatever, maybe they had food in there. He was starving. Slamming the door open Skolsky — again — found not a living soul. Shaking his head, he pulled out his phone and dialed the shark acting as his 'commanding officer.' Whatever the fuck that meant. For Satan's sake, he was so sick of having to play army man. The shark answered with a gruff voice, "Yeah, found anything?"

"Yeah. Absolutely sweet fuck-all." Skolsky fiddled his claw into the cash register until it popped open. Literal pennies, not even any bills. With a rage he slammed it shut.

"What was that? You were told to not make yourself known to the humans!"

"I didn't! I haven't seen any of the dipshits here!"

"Keep looking, the marquis is sure there's a base nearby!"

"You sure he didn't mean a shitty park? It's got the saddest fucking gift shop I've ever seen," Skolsky's eyes flitted over a display of magnets advertising the Rocky Mountains, Hope's Peak National Forest, Smokey the Bear, and other stupid shit. "Why the fuck does it even matter? It's not like we can attack them anyways!"

"We're going to in the future, dumbass. But if there is a base, we can't portal in unless we know the exact location, so we need to find that now."

"There's nothing! I've been here for hours and there's nothing! Look, I'll show you, you want to see it on video? Absolutely nothing! I'm wasting my time here!"

"Don't you take that tone with me, imp. There's still a war to be —"

"Don't you take that tone with me!" Skolsky felt like he'd crush his phone between his fingers, "I was told that we'd come up here and we wouldn't need to do any more of this grunt work! I don't have to take that shit any more! We're in the fucking living world now and you're going to treat me with some RESPECT!"

The phone hung up.

"FUCKING —" He hurled the phone against the far wall. Panting, he watched the shattered screen hit the floor. "…Great, now my phone's broken, gotta find a working one, don't even know the fucking number…" His hands gripped his horns as he tried to think through his options. "Someone's got to have left behind a car right? Got scared shitless and ran? There's gotta be something around here, and then —"

Skolsky turned to face the doorway again. His words to himself were interrupted by the sight of the human man in camo gear aiming at him.

The crack of the rifle reached the imp at the same time as the bullet. He collapsed, seizing his leg, "MOTHERFUCKING CHRIST ON A —"

His assailant ran forward. The butt of the gun met his face. Darkness.

Blitzø burst through the door of his office, right before the window that Ember had shattered a few weeks ago. "Whew! What a fuckin' workday so far!" He twisted at his waist, stretching, right where Stolas could see. To be sure, the owl was watching alright… "Got two whole things done! Feeling good!"

Stolas blinked. "Ah… yes, a productive day, you could say…"

"I do say! Oh, can you print the thing I just sent over to you, we need… fuck, how many people work here again…" He counted out on his fingers, "…five copies!"

"Alright, just a moment..."

As Stolas clicked the printer to life, Blitzø rolled his eyes to the ceiling as he thought to himself, what would they need? Charcoal or something, then food — the really good food, not the Hell shit they'd been scarfing down all their lives. Drinks, maybe some games, did people do games at shit like this?

"A picnic?" Stolas held up the pages, showing Blitzø's hand-drawn flyer with everyone crowded around a table:

CUMPANY BBQ PICNIC 2MORRO!!!
THAT 1 PARK DOWN THE RODE
BRING FOOD N BOOZE
MANDATORY!!! >:[

Blitzø grinned. "Fuck yeah! It'll be great! We got all that fucking money from the pirate show, right? We gotta hold a big company outing to celebrate! It's good for morale. You take one, I'll get one for Loona and Ember, gotta find out where Mox and Mills are, hold on…"

He pulled out his phone and texted them, one by one demanding them to stop by the office. However, he could tell Stolas wasn't moving. Finally Blitzø looked back up to see him staring incredulously.

"…What?"

"How can you be so calm?! Didn't you see the news? The humans have a weapon that can kill Goetia!"

"Uh-huh."

"They could hit us at any time!"

"Uh-huh."

"When did they build these things?! Will the shield over the city hold? What'll we do if they attack us?! What do we even do?! Blitzø, how can you be so calm?!"

Blitzø just idly smacked his tongue, thinking about how exactly to phrase this. "I mean… the fuck you want me to do about it?"

"What?!"

"The fuck," he sounded it out slowly, "you want me, to do about it? You think I talk to the humans? You think I got anything to do with the shield? If I worry my ass off about it, that gonna help? Same goes for you."

"Blitzø! It's IMPORTANT! I'm worried because it's something really fucking important!"

He shrugged, "Right, go ahead then. What are you gonna do to fix it?"

"I… I don't know!" His eyes flitted back and forth desperately, "That's what I'm so scared about!"

It finally clicked in Blitzø's head, and he smirked, stepping closer. Stolas' panic stilled as he drew near. "Okay, I see what's going on. Stolas…" His hands took the bird's arms. He looked up with sweet soulful eyes. "Welcome to getting fucked over by shit you can't control."

"I'm being serious!"

"So am I! You think down in Hell, people like me didn't have to worry about shit like this? Oh hey, new rule, Heaven is gonna come through each year and just start snuffing out sinners. They gonna come after us next? Who knows, who fucking cares, nothing we do's gonna change it either way. So just keep on trucking! Because otherwise, you let it get to you, you lose your fucking mind."

Stolas was quiet for a few seconds. Slowly his gaze hardened, clearly hurt. He pushed away in his rolling chair, forcing Blitzø to relinquish his grip. "Excuse me for still thinking about the world and everyone in it…"

Blitzø blinked. His hands began to ball into fists at the slight. "Oh, don't pretend you weren't in the middle of a fucking meltdown just now! Welcome to being a commoner, you're a little overdue for your first life crisis! How's it feel to get shit slapped in your face you never asked for?!"

Stolas just turned away in his seat. Oh no, he wasn't getting away that easy. Blitzø followed in a circle, still feeling his rage boil.

"You think any of us asked for us to get a call a month ago to get dragged to the surface?!" Then he paused. "Okay bad example, it's actually been a lot of fun to watch these little shits run scared, yeah… but look at the state of my fucking business!"

Blitzø threw his arms wide, looking around the office. Still not a single client.

"We're really fucking lucky we won that big event, because otherwise IMP's got zero income! We just got ripped out of the Pride Ring and plopped here and now we gotta figure shit out, again. That's what living like a normal fucking person is like! So no, I'm not all that worried about what's on the TV because I got enough shit to worry about right in front of me." He felt himself trying to catch his breath. "And I can't have you losing your fucking mind to worry about too!"

Stolas' head had been turned away. The more Blitzø talked though, the more his defiant pose softened. Now he was in profile, looking down at his hands in his lap. "I do have my own things to worry about. I just want to know they're important to you too."

Blitzø took a deep sigh. He set both hands on the desk, hanging his head low, trying to keep his cool. He could tell exactly who Stolas was worried about... "Right. Right. Okay. I get it. You got shit, I got shit. We both got shit." A strong breath in, and he stood straight again. "Is there anything I can do to help with your shit?"

"I… I don't think so. I tried talking to Asmodeus about it last night, it'll take some time. I just hope it's time we have…"

"Okay. Well if there is anything I can do to help with your shit, tell me. Got it?"

"Thank you…" Stolas was quiet for a few more moments. "…and I'm sorry, if I—"

"Save it. Just let me have the rest of the flyers." He held his hand out; Stolas passed them over. Blitzø shuffled them back in line with each other, turned the papers over, scanned his handiwork, sorted them again. Fuck. "Here, we gotta buy shit for the barbecue. Let's close up and head over there together."

"…I'd like that."

A day later, Ember sat at a firepit between her boss' hellhound daughter and demonic prince boyfriend. Or, ex-prince as she'd found out. Blitzø really loved to talk, and as his employee she didn't really have a choice but to listen. He was loud, boisterous, crass… but not all that bad, everything considered. At the moment he was working the park grill. Charcoal smoldered beneath the grate, and Blitzø used his spade tail to flip the patties as he pulled open a pack of hot dogs. "Here, make yourselves useful, get this shit cooking."

She skewered the sausage on the metal poker she'd been given before thrusting it over the flames. An awkward quiet lingered over the cookout, but less awkward than it had been the past week or so she'd been 'employed' here. Ember glanced around. Stolas' gaze stayed on his task, while Loona had been eyeing her; the hellhound didn't look away when she noticed. Ember stared back. "…Hey?"

Loona sighed and turned her head. "Blitzø?"

"Yeaaaaah Loonie?"

"Are you gonna start collecting sad fuck-ups on the surface too?"

"Hey hey, you do not talk about yourself or Ember like that. Or Stolas or Millie for that matter."

Moxxie looked up from where he'd been attending to Mackie. "Thanks, sir…"

"Ember won us that big ol' thing, remember? We wouldn't be having this company cook-out if it wasn't for her!"

Millie had eschewed the skewers entirely, stabbing the sausages on the end of her clawed fingers and leaning forward to cook them that way. She grinned, "I didn't think you humans had that kind of shit in you! 'Specially not a kid! How'd you do it?"

Ember wasn't used to getting a compliment from these demonic invaders. "I, ah… I don't know, I just kinda went for it. I was trying to… not die, I guess?"

"Hey, 'not dying' is a winning strategy apparently!"

Suddenly Moxxie began coughing. A subtle breeze had started and it was just enough to blow smoke right into his face. "Shit. Hold on, Mackie don't breathe that in…"

He trotted around and sat on the other side of Millie, now between her and Loona — whom Ember found staring at her again. Loona sniffed. "Where are your parents?"

"At home? Or, Pop might be working, I don't know. Why?"

Loona cocked her head. "Just seeing what kind of kid Blitzø scraped off the street this time…"

Scraped off the street?! She couldn't help it, the words left her mouth before she could stop them: "He didn't scrape me off the fucking street, I broke his windows and he caught me so now I'm working it off! There, enough of a sob story for you?!"

Ember almost immediately regretted it, the way Loona's eyes snapped open. Everyone stared at her now. Millie was the first to crack… and she gave way to laughter. "Blitzø! She really is a firecracker!"

"Yeah I fuckin' told ya!" He cackled. "I'd almost think she's hellborn if I didn't know any better!"

"I didn't think humans had it in them to actually be fun!"

More coughing from Moxxie, "Are you fucking serious?!" Sure enough the wind had changed. He got up and paced around the firepit again, grumbling. Ember watched him, and a question popped up in her mind.

"Okay, my turn: I thought you guys were fireproof. How come the smoke's getting to you?"

"Yeah, fireproof. We still need oxygen!" Moxxie let out a particularly nasty cough, before taking a deep breath in. "Hoh! Okay. We're good. Are we good Mackie?"

The baby was more interested in trying to grab the meat off her dad's skewer.

"In a minute, okay? We still gotta cook it!"

Ember felt this was good a chance as any to fill some holes in her demonology studies. "So why English? Does everyone in Hell use English or do you have every language?"

Moxxie shifted Mackie onto his knee, guiding her to hold the poker. "There we go, careful, see?" He looked back up at Ember. "We're omniglots. All hellborn are. It's a perk of being a magical cursed race."

Blitzø grinned over his shoulder, "We can tell you to go fuck yourselves in every language."

"Okay, okay, and…" She turned to Stolas, who seemed nervous to be put under scrutiny. "You're thirty-something, right?"

"Yes?"

"How come you're in a centuries-old book about demonology?"

"Oh!" He seemed almost relieved that's all the question was. "Hell time works strangely, I fear. It's simultaneously slower but it also corellates with your timeline. So from your human perspective, I've been around centuries, yes."

"But you and Blitzø knew each other as kids?"

"Yes."

She looked at the imps. "So you're all technically centuries old too?"

"Yes!"

"Nuh uh," said Moxxie.

"I guess?" said Millie.

"Don't care," said Loona.

"Don't think about it real hard," said Blitzø. "Alright enough of this Twenty Questions bullshit, who wants burgers?!" He plucked the cooked patties off the grill with his bare hands and set them on the buns, assembling everything together before bringing the plate over. Ember took one, and… she had to admit, it was actually pretty good. He'd even gone to the trouble of toasting the buns beforehand. "Yeah, you like?"

"These are great! They're like how Pop makes them!"

"Ha! And everyone thought I couldn't cook. That's what happens when I finally get the good shit to work with!"

"Good shit?"

Loona nodded for her attention, finishing her bite — Jesus, she'd already downed almost half the burger. "We've been in Hell. Everything we eat is basically trash. Unless you're royalty. Shitty food, shitty booze, shitty drugs, shitty water, kinda what you expect. Part of the whole 'eternal punishment' thing." She flashed her fangs as she sank another huge bite into her food. Her eyes rolled back slightly. "Fuck, real beef…"

Millie got her attention again. She was just sliding the sausages off her fingers into some foil, "Blitzø's right, enough askin' about us. Tell us about your folks!"

Ember hesitated at first. What if she told them something that they could use against her? They were demons after all! But Millie's face seemed genuinely curious in a friendly way, while Moxxie was busy pulling apart a patty bit by bit for their baby… "Well, it's Pop and Dad and me. We live just down —" Wait that wasn't right any more. "We did live near here, but we're in an apartment now, right next to the Strip. Renting from another imp, some guy with a bunch of shark goons."

Moxxie paused. "Crimson? Pinstripe suit, fedora, gold tooth?"

"Yeah, that's his name. You know him?"

He scowled. "…Guy's a fucking asshole."

She had admit, she was taken aback that a demon would even care about that. But she nodded, "Yeah, it's just us three there. Dad's the funny one, he's always making us laugh. He likes playing video games. Pop tends to worry a lot more, but you know, he's gotta I guess. He used to work at home, he's really good at cooking and baking. Though he hasn't done that a whole lot lately. He had to find work, and he's been—" Ember paused. Then she laughed it off. "He's been too busy to even watch TV!"

Luckily nobody seemed to suspect her sudden pivot. She'd just realized it probably wouldn't be the best idea to mention Pop's sudden obsession with praying again, bringing out his confirmation rosary for hours each day…

Millie loaded the hot dogs into buns now, passing them along. "My folks were farmers in the Wrath Ring before we came up here. They got attached to Raum's legions, they're in Manila right now. The Philippines?" Ember nodded that she understood. "We were thinkin' of getting another farm, either out on a tropical island there or something near here. Once we beat Heaven we'll figure out where we wanna be! I'll introduce you to them, they'd like you. Oh and my sister, Sallie May, oh she is a delight!"

Ember listened as this demon talked about her family, her dreams for the future, and nodded along. "Yeah, I'd really like to meet them! What about you guys, what are your families like?"

Blitzø froze on the spot. He looked at Moxxie. Moxxie silently passed the buck to Stolas. Stolas glanced back at Blitzø who just stood there… before awkwardly grinning. "C'mon Mills, tell us more about your family!"

As they worked through the meats, the egg salad and potato chips and soda cans, the conversation kept flowing. Blitzø pulled out his phone to show her a video of Verosika Mayday ("She was a succubus all along, how's that for a fuckin' plot twist!") and she returned the favor ("So this is Hatsune Miku, but she's not actually real…"). Ember let slip she'd never had alcohol before because of course she hadn't. That triggered an immediate chant from Blitzø and Millie and Loona to get her to try a beer bottle. One sip and she was spitting it up on dirt. It tasted like expensive piss, but their laughter still made it worth it. The reddish daylight was beginning to dim when they pulled out the marshmallows.

"Well team," Blitzø sighed, "I think we can check this off as a successful company bonding experience. We really synergized tonight!"

"Never say that again," Loona muttered. Then she caught sight of her marshmallow catching fire. "Aw shit! Fucking —"

Ember watched as she blew it out and grimaced at the blackened char. For a moment she second-guessed herself… "Hey?"

"What?!"

She offered her own skewer. "Trade you?"

Loona stared back in silence, not understanding.

"I like them burned," Ember lied. "I like the crispiness. I'll trade you."

The hellhound seemed almost in disbelief. Then she offered her own skewer as well, and they changed hands. "Thanks, I guess…"

"Yeah. No worries."

A gust of wind, and Moxxie coughing again. "MOTHERFUCKER!" Ember had to try really hard to not laugh at the way his voice sounded.

Skolsky groaned as he came to, "Fuck…" He wasn't lying on the floor; both of his arms were held tightly. His hands were bound. His feet were bound. Everything was dark, but he could hear a roaring crowd and speech in a room nearby. "What the fuck…"

"Shit, it's awake!"

"Hold tightly, you remember what happened last time!"

He blinked his eyes to focus. To either side, a human agent held him. Skolsky bristled. "Go ahead, fuckheads. Gimme a shot, I'll send you to Hell early…"

They looked at each other… and then they laughed. "Say that to Governor Shaw."

Then the voice from the other room, he was able to hear it more clearly now, the way it echoed: "And it is through the grace of our good Lord, that our enemy has been delivered into our hands! Once more smiling with favor upon our great nation!"

A wild roar. Skolsky's indignation washed away at the sound of a thousand voices.

The doors opened.

Harsh lights blinded him. He flinched away as the agents began to drag him forward, down the middle aisle of a massive crowd. The imp's eyes strained to adjust to the sudden brightness, it hurt to even blink, humans on either side, still blurry. Slowly his vision came into focus. The stagelights beat down from above, and the effect it had on their faces… Skolsky almost felt he'd vomit. He never thought humans capable of such emotions, brows twisting and noses flaring and jaws screaming. Fists brandished in the air at him.

Highlighted on the stage was the governor.

"For this is the promise of our Savior: that we shall see our foes laid low before us! That the holy soil of America shall hold firm while others crumble! That if we stand united in our faith and opposed to wickedness..." both hands raised, "we shall yet find our redemption in His eyes!"

Skolsky could see Shaw on the stage before a massive wooden altar. He could also see Shaw on the screens to either side, and the screens on the other walls that showed the governor in profile, every gesture and shout highlighted. Shaw's age did nothing to dull his dramatic gesticulation, or the fire in his eyes. His hands swung with passion. The crowd raised its arms in response. He balled both fists and shouted to the masses. Howling replies that barely sounded human.

"We stand here gathered, the elect of God! We who have proven ourselves to find favor in His eyes, we stand above the poisoned souls left in the darkness! For years we have withstood mockery from a nation weakened by sin! Now we may relish our vindication and display how we have survived so long! It is through Christ's holy word we draw our wisdom and our courage and our strength! The strength to stand against the wicked who would make slaves out of us!"

"Oh fuck this…" The imp tried to shift his legs around to find footing, to get some way out of this. He only succeeded in twisting himself around. The advance barely slowed.

"Look how the demon writhes in the open light! See how before our righteousness it quails, knowing it has no power over us! Only now will it claim to know mercy, to take advantage of our Christian goodness! But I will have no quarter here for the monsters that spill American blood, and curse the name of our Lord!"

Skolsky found himself now at the foot of the stage's steps. His shins banged against every stair as he was forced up, up, up. One more time he tried to dig his heels into the corners. It successfully halted their climb for a few seconds. The imp felt his vision narrow to the man standing there, white hair framing his face, black suit like a silhouette.

This wasn't supposed to be happening.

He'd been promised a new life up here. The humans would fold and the hellborn would have their own space for once. Imps wouldn't be on the bottom any more. The Goetia had promised him… Satan had promised him…

"Quit stalling!" The agents roughly yanked him free. Now the imp climbed the rest of the steps against his will. From here Skolsky could hear Shaw's actual voice now before it echoed through the whole space:

"Is it not the place of the righteous to vanquish evil, within and without? My brothers and sisters in Christ! I ask you, if you are one of the righteous, if you are one of the elect, what does this demon deserve?"

The crowd erupted, "DEATH!"

Shaw gestured to the wooden altar. Across the stage now, Skolsky kept struggling in the arms of his captors, still not a single deviation from his destiny. He tried shouting, "Wait! Wait, we can talk about this! Okay, I know we're at war and everything, but we don't need to do this! I can tell you what I know! Anything!"

His voice had no chance against Shaw's sonorous speech. The only response he got was the other agent sneering, "Nice try, we're done pussyfooting around for scraps of evidence. We got all the evidence we need to prove we're not crazy. Now folks are actually taking us seriously!"

Skolsky was heaved up onto the altar, roughly landing on his back. Panicking, he tried to roll onto his side, away from the crowd, a last ditch attempt to escape from whatever these fucking freaks were going to do to him!

Three cherubim stood behind the altar.

"What the…" His eyes narrowed. "What the fuck are you doing here?! This is our territory until Judgment Day! Did you do this shit?!"

They didn't reply. They didn't even seem happy to see him bound there.

"Get me out of here! Get me the fuck out of here!"

The cherubim only stared, mouths agape, pupils shrinking to pinpoints.

"I said stop this shit and get me out of here, you stupid heavenside FUCKS!"

"Get him under control!" The agent's voice came up behind him — and then a blunt blow. Skolsky blacked out again.

But only for a second.

The stagelights, blinding stars in his blurry vision. One cheek against the wood. His back to the crowd.

"O Heavenly Father, accept this as a token of our commitment to You and Thy will! Delivered here before Your angelic representatives here on Earth, let this repay the blessings You bestow upon our great nation, upon Your people, who await Your return with open arms! In the name of God, I say, amen!"

The imp struggled to stay conscious, chanting filled his ears, fading in and out. A shadow over him now, a knife in Shaw's hand. The human knelt down. His free palm rested on the demon's shoulder and turned him onto his back. On his face, the hatred had given way to a strange mix of disgust... and sympathy.

"You poor soul. Damned from birth, thrust into a world destined to despise you. Even here, I pity you." He nodded. "I will set you free…"

The knife raised higher. Higher. Dark against the spotlights. The imp panted, tried to flinch away, every beat of his heart front of his mind.

Shaw stabbed down. The slender red tail thrashed. Then stilled.

"IT IS DEAD!"

He stood again, arms wide, brandishing the blade now stained like with ink. Dozens crammed against the stage in wild frothing ecstasy. The governor thrust the knife into the air, adding his roar to theirs, shaking the very heart of Hope's Peak.

The cherubim watched from behind, all three unwilling to move. Collin gulped. "Cletus? Keenie?"

"Yeah Collin?" Their voices were equally shaken.

"…I think we might be in danger…"

Chapter Text

Striker eyed a gap between the cars choking the street before darting forward, quickly picking his way to the far side. His nostrils caught a whiff of the piling trash, almost overpowering the reek of human. Fuck, Paris was a dump.

Rounding a corner he could see the efforts to clean the mounting mess: a group of five human men with no shirts, mutinous scowls, and massive bags in their hands, all slowly picking litter from the sidewalk. A possessor surveyed their work, and just as Striker was going past, the demon suddenly barked, "Pick up the pace! You got ten more blocks to go today!"

At that one of the humans finally rounded on him, "You don't talk to me like that! I'm not picking up a single other piece of SCRAP!"

"Don't you get testy with me now, or I'll get you on all fours and licking the concrete clean!"

"Know what?! Fucking MAKE ME!"

On a better day, Striker would have loved to watch the possessor mentally force the human into submission, but he had errands to get over with. So he left the altercation behind and kept walking, his boots carrying him past darkened cafés, shattered storefronts, apartment doors broken open and left ajar. A bloodstain lingered on the pavement where some dumbfuck got his skull splattered, Striker could get a little bit of joy from that delightful image. In the distance a great iron tower rose into the air; Andrealphus' banner hung from it, slowly billowing in the slow wind that the infernal weather allowed.

Finally he reached his destination: a large department store that had been converted into a pawn shop for plunder. It was the place to go for demons who'd grabbed a car or wardrobe or jewel off a human and wanted it turned into drugs or cash same-day. The shark that ran the joint was in the middle of showing a few hellhounds a fine silver necklace as Striker entered and made a beeline for the wines. He lifted his notepad where he'd written down the very long and very complicated name of the bottle he was supposed to get.

"Hey bud," another shark slid over, leaning on the counter. "Buying or selling?"

"Yeah, the marquis wants… fuck it, just read this and get it."

Minutes later, Striker again cut across the deadlocked streets to get to the museum where Andrealphus had ended up moving into, a big sprawling complex with all the splendor that the humans could muster.

"EUGH!" He could hear Stella screaming as he got inside, "Look out there! You can see poor people out the windows! I can't believe we have to make do in this putrid little hole!"

Yeah, you'd know something about putrid little holes, Striker bitterly mused to himself. The amount of shit he had to put up with for his two patrons, by Satan he sometimes had half a mind to just do them in himself. But then all of Hell would be on his ass. Besides, he now had an entire species of viable targets to vent on…

Striker paused in front of the door to Andrealphus' new study. He took a deep breath and forced a smile, before opening the door. "Fresh wine, straight from the humans' vintage!"

"SHHHHH!" Andrealphus silenced him, gesturing to the side. All that effort, and he didn't even fucking notice. Striker let himself openly scowl as he stepped inside, giving a wide berth to the center table of the workshop.

Flauros' dead body lay on top. Andrealphus himself stood back, poring over the leopard's burned skin with a magnifying lens the size of a dinner platter. He kept examining it closely, for whatever reason, before going back to a human book labeled Southern Medical Journal. On the desk behind him were titles like Introductory Nuclear Physics, and Particles and Fundamental Interactions: An Introduction to Particle Physics.

Andrealphus lowered the book in his hand before gesturing over the body. A fine mist trailed from his palm and flowed over Flauros, hugging close to this clothing and fur. Tiny lights sparkled in the mist, intensifying near the burns. "Fascinating…"

Striker just kept watching in silence. He set the wine bottle on the nearest shelf space he could find before pulling out his favorite knife and his whetstone. The sound of scraping angelic steel pulsed through the air as he watched Andrealphus shift to a large bound notebook, jotting down numbers, working arithmetic, before sliding to another book and setting the volumes side by side. His fingers darted back and forth from page to page. Striker had never seen him so lost in his work before.

The peacock's hand lifted. "By the stars…" Striker paused his sharpening. Andrealphus began to grin. "Oh, those little monkeys had no idea how close they were…" With a chuckle he turned, swiping a glass off the shelf. "You have my drink?"

Oh, now he wanted speedy service. "Yeah. Right here," Striker snatched it up again and offered it for Andrealphus to grab out of his hands.

Focused on popping the cork out in celebration, the Goetia gave a dismissive wave to a sealed envelope on the table. It lifted into the air and presented itself to Striker. "Take this to Prince Vassago in Chongqing, right away. It's a matter of dire importance."

Striker bristled. "Mmkay, but I'd been looking to get back to London. Tryin' to cover for, you know," he nodded at Flauros' corpse, "they're gettin' a bit uppity there." And how he'd love to crack some skulls, there'd been a lot less opportunity to do so lately with the ceasefire…

"Those fools can run themselves ragged for now. They have no idea what's coming…" He poured himself a glass of wine before waving his hand again. "Now chop chop, get that sent over."

That fucker. Striker managed to bite his tongue though, rubbing the Asmodean crystal granted him through Andrealphus' patronage and stepping through to the other side of the world. A familiar red sky greeted him, albeit late afternoon instead of the early morning he'd just left. All around him were humans.

…Humans going back and forth, talking on phones, dressed in sharp clothes, barely paying him any mind.

Striker paused, a weird feeling creeping up his spine. Stores were open, a car puttered by just beside him. For a second he checked his phone to see if he was even in the right city. Nope, occupied Chongqing, this was correct. It must be, again with the red pentagram shielding overhead, and the fact they didn't react to his sudden appearance.

Maybe this area of town just needed some livening up.

Striker eyed a man walking past, focused on his cellphone. With a smirk he stepped aside… and then whipped his tail around the human's ankle. The man yelped and fell forward, face-planting on the road. Now that was what he'd been missing! He let out a laugh, "Get fucked."

Whistle blasts sounded behind him. A baphomet charged through the parting crowd, her nightstick high in the air. "Cut that out! Cut that shit out right now!"

"What's wrong with you?!" The human man was getting up again, feeling at the blood pooling under his nostrils. "You broke my nose, you asshole! What was that for?!"

"What?" Striker just laughed, "You're a fucking human! That's what that was for!"

Nobody else was laughing, least of all the baphomet. She slapped her nightstick against her palm, "That's assault, you know."

"What?! Come on, I'm a demon! He's a human! You're really going to throw me in jail for tripping up a fucking human?!"

Hours later, Striker watched his jail door unlock at Vassago's command. The prince looked down with disapproving eyes, "Not the welcome I'd hoped to offer a Goetic envoy…"

"Yeah. Great to be here..." Striker scowled as he followed the prince past the holding cells. Some of them contained humans, others contained demons. "The fuck kind of city are you running here?"

"One running according to my judgment. I hate to invoke hierarchy, but despite your official capacity here, may I remind you that you represent a marquis. It is not your place to decide to torment my subjects according to your or his standards. Am I clear?"

"It was a joke! I was just having a little fun with one of the —"

"Am I clear?"

Vassago stopped and turned, fixing one eye on Striker. The imp glared up at him. "…Fine. I won't do it again."

"Thank you. Now, follow me so we can discuss the business at hand…"

Vassago led him across the plaza. Now that he'd gotten used to the differences here, Striker could begin to pick out indicators of the hellborn's rule. Street posts were marked with flags bearing Vassago's seal. Another baphomet was standing in an intersection directing traffic. A massive screen above the plaza advertised Beelzejuice, two hellhounds each downing a can and winking at the crowd below while surrounded by Mandarin text extolling how delicious it was. Striker kept staring up at them before they were replaced by a shark and human standing opposite one another, each with a hammer rested against their shoulder and a hard hat on their head. They smiled alongside text reading 'Remember: Building a new future TOGETHER makes light work!'

Striker halted in his tracks as he stared up at the sign. He'd almost prefer to be called a slur than see that image. "You can't be fucking serious…"

"Pork bun, Prince Vassago?" A human street food vendor offered. "And a second for your friend?"

"Yes, that'd be nice actually. Thank you."

Striker broke out of his stupor and caught up, watching the prince actually pay money to this mortal. And soon they were going up the elevator to a tall penthouse office, where Vassago had a desk looking out over the towers of the city. The imp approached, one hand on the glass as he looked down. Every window below seemed intact. Every screen was lit. The sunset began to darken and Chongqing's streetlamps blinked to life.

"Pork bun?" Vassago offered. Striker turned and sneered at the gift. "Very well, more for me."

"This what you call your princely duty? Coddling your fucking pets while the rest of us are breakin' our backs trying to get somewhere?"

Vassago sighed. Then he opened his drawer, pulled out a dog-eared stack of documents, and slapped them to the desktop. "In a month I've turned out more motor vehicles and electronics than the rest of the Goetic lords combined. Can you suppose how I did that?"

Striker glared but didn't answer.

"Keeping the city functioning was more important to me than petty vengeance. So yes, I threw them a bone or two. It's amazing what some fixed potholes and a repaired tram will do for public image. And by the time I gave them an extra day off a week…" He shook his head. "Suddenly everyone was all too eager to hang my seal everywhere."

"…Petty vengeance? That's what you call it?" He scowled at Vassago. The prince would be too nice to retaliate against him for this. "You got to be a prince in Hell, now you're a god-king here. Yeah, from way up high maybe you do think it's petty. But from where I've been standing, those fuckers deserve to squirm."

"Is that your plan to defeat Heaven then? To flog the humans until Judgment Day?"

"Maybe it is. What's it to you?"

Vassago closed his eyes, shaking his head. "I imagine Andrealphus didn't send you here just to yell at me for how I'm running my city?"

"Yeah. Here."

He pulled the envelope out and tossed it to the desk. Vassago pulled it open, read the letter inside. His brow slowly furrowed. "…Why does he want me to 'prepare bodies'?"

"I don't fuckin' know, he didn't tell me anything. I don't even know what was in that fucking thing."

"Ten thousand living human bodies… this is absurd. Whatever he has in mind —"

A distant blast. Striker and Vassago both came to the window to look. Near the far edges near the dome, where the land was dark and rural, a fireball erupted. A buzzer sounded, and a possessor's voice: "Prince Vassago, we just had an insurgent attack to the north side of the city. Reports of gunfire, we're responding now."

Striker slowly let himself grin. He folded his arms, turning to the Goetic prince. "The peaceful approach is working just great, your Highness…"

Vassago only glared back. "Don't you take that tone with me."

"Oh what, is the 'good-natured' Goetia going to put the imp in his place?"

"I'm trying to build us a future. All of us, human and demon. Yes, the process hasn't been smooth. Yes, not everyone's on board. But I'm trying to build something, which means when I falter everyone can point and say I've failed. It's far easier to tear everything down and wallow in the ruins."

"Yeah yeah, whatever you say. So uh, you gonna give me an envelope back or what?"

Back in Paris, Octavia stepped through the hallways of her new new home, searching every which way. Come on, come on, where was he, oh she hoped he didn't get caught… but her worst fears were confirmed as she began to pick up on her mother's screaming.

"— absolutely DISGRACEFUL! You know that I require my peace and privacy and yet I cannot possibly rest with the knowledge that there are filthy peasants so close to my home!"

Jacques had been cornered by Stella in one of the wider rooms, a covered platter still in his hands. By now he'd grown slightly more used to her and Andrealphus' outbursts; he kept his eyes diverted and his voice steady. "I understand madame, I can perhaps try to find a second curtain in the building to hang over the windows to further block them out?"

"It is far too late for that! I KNOW they are still there! A second curtain solves NOTHING! How are you going to fix this?!"

"I… I understand madame, I can perhaps try to find — "

Octavia cut him off, folding her arms. "Jacques, where have you been?"

He caught her gaze. "Ah, Princess, I apologize! I got caught up with your mother here, she's concerned about trespassers!"

"I don't want excuses about my mother, I want you doing what I told you to do!"

Stella's eyes were wide. "Octavia… oh, how you've grown! Look at you, taking charge, my bold little chickadee!"

Octavia nodded, "Yeah, I'm finally growing into it. I'm having a whole spa day with the staff because I deserve it. Come on, human, my talons aren't going to polish themselves!" She pointed down the hallway, and Jacques obliged.

"Very good dear! I'm so proud of you! Do enjoy yourself!"

She nodded, and followed behind Jacques, "Go on! Get moving! You kept me waiting long enough!" The pair strode away. Octavia discreetly checked over her shoulder, her mother wasn't watching any more. She jogged up close to the human. "Jacques I'm so sorry, I just did the first thing that came to mind…"

The human was barely suppressing a laugh, "It was very well-acted. Princess." He added the last bit on as a tease, and Octavia rolled her eyes. Soon they came up to her room, opening the door to find the rest of the human staff waiting for them. Everyone perked up as Jacques balanced the dish on one hand. "Messieurs, madames, may I present…"

He lifted the lid off dramatically, revealing boxes of cigarettes. A sigh of relief washed over everyone.

Octavia went around handing them out, offering a light with her fingertip. Soon her room was filled with the haze of tobacco smoke. Three people were sprawled over her bed, eager to have a comfortable nap for the first time in weeks. Others paired off into chats, or clustered around her television to watch whatever they could find. Finally she came back over to Jacques, sitting on the corner of her desk and looking down at filled pages of parchment scattered across the surface. He shook his head, "It's still crazy to me, that occult magic is all real."

"Yeah. And it's hard too. I have to get this all memorized before I'm invested with my title."

Jacques set his fingertips on one paper and slid it out. "Sigil of Refreshment?"

"Yeah, that's meant to help restore your power if you've used a lot of magic, or if you're really exhausted."

"No no," he held it up away from her, "I'm asking you. Sigil of Refreshment, what is it? I'm testing you to help you study."

Octavia smiled. "Okay, uh, that's an easy one… a triquetra inscribed within the symbol of fire; with a caduceus, the symbol of bismuth, and the symbol of copper in each corner. Align the caduceus towards Taurus, and then it should work!"

Jacques nodded along with each word. Once she finished, he handed the paper back to her. "I forgot I don't know what any of those are."

She laughed. "Here let me see… yeah, I got it! See, the caduceus there, you should know what that is! It's a medical symbol, in both our worlds."

"Do you mean the snake staff? The Hermes staff?"

"Yeah, that's the one! That's a caduceus!"

Jacques shook his head, "That's too much. I can't remember it. I'm just going to call it a Hermes staff."

"It is not too much."

"Maybe your uncle's right. I'm too stupid and dumb to know how to do anything." He took another inhale on his cigarette, grinning at the indulgence of bad-mouthing the marquis. Then he turned back to the other study materials. "Sigil of Shielding, is that what they're using above the city now?"

"Yeah, these can be all different sizes, and the effects will scale. But I have to practice a lot more to get that good."

"I see…" He looked over them all, then back at her. "I'm free to speak my mind?"

"Of course!"

"I can ask you a question?"

"Yes. What is it?"

Jacques took another inhale. Then he held his shrinking cigarette between his fingers, smoke blowing from his nostrils as he looked down. "What did you see?"

"…What?"

"The vision you had at St. Peter's. What did you see?"

She went quiet.

"…I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked you that. Seeing you hit the ground like that, it was… I didn't know someone like you could get hurt that badly."

"It's alright. Really. It was just…" She took a deep breath. "I could see it. As if I was there, all at once. People in uniforms shouting, pointing, screaming… and then sirens in the air, deafening, everyone terrified and trying to hide… and then columns of fire, lifting into the sky, like seams of fabric coming undone, and then…" Octavia felt her skin crawling. "Over and over again."

"But that's not really going to happen, right? There's the ceasefire now, that vision's not going to happen? It can change?"

Octavia bit at her lip. She was torn between telling him the truth, and giving him hope. "There's always room to change, if there's something I didn't know about and the spell couldn't calculate in. There's always that chance."

Jacques nodded. "Good. Because I just started this job, and it would look bad if I was to have to quit it so suddenly…"

Octavia rolled her eyes again as he laughed. The joke was cut short though by hammering on the door. "VIA!" Her uncle. "Via, come out right this second! I have something important!"

"Shit. Uh…" She cleared her throat before giving her best commanding tone, "all of you keep working, you hear me?! I'll expect double-time worship when I get back to make up for this break!"

"Yes Princess Octavia," everyone responded at once, not even bothering to glance up at her. She made for the door and carefully slipped out so that Andrealphus wouldn't see inside. Luckily he had his beak buried in the grimoire anyways, eagerly adding fresh notes.

"I have made a breakthrough," his eyes gleamed. "The mortal dimwits had no idea what they were on the edge of discovering! This power that they unleashed in their 'atom bombs'…" He gave that pompous chuckle she hated. "It was only the beginning. And I shall be the one who uncovers it, for the glory of Hell!"

"Yeah? And what's that?"

"Ah ah, I mustn't spoil the surprise my dear. But…" he gestured over the grimoire, making a portal appear, "…I would like to show you my new workshop. Satan himself just approved my use!"

Via stepped through. She found herself in nighttime, standing in wide open terrain with low shrubbery and low mountains in the distance. Then she turned around, and found herself in front of a sprawling human facility with concrete domes. The sign beside her read:

PALO VERDE
GENERATING STATION

Chapter Text

Tony sat forward on the sofa, clutching the crucifix of the rosary he'd gotten for Confirmation years ago: "…we may imitate what they contain and obtain what they promise, through the same Christ our Lord. Amen." He gave himself the Sign of the Cross before standing again. He'd taken to doing the rosary four times a day; when he was at work, he spent his breaks speeding through the prayers rather than eating. This had to move the needle for the three of them, right?

Tyler had already left for the day, trying to find steady work again. In a few days their rent was going to be due, and they still didn't know if they would make it. And then only a few weeks after that was the literal End of Days. He remembered rolling his eyes at those crappy Left Behind movies that his grandma made him watch as a kid. Now he was racking his brain trying to remember, did they just have to make it to the end alive? If they hit some 'saved' threshold would their family all suddenly poof into Heaven too? Or was it already too late?

His fingers nervously fiddled with one of the beads. Tony had half a mind to fit in an extra prayer today. But… no, it was starting eat him up inside. He had to stop. What would Tyler say? 'Quit your worrying, do something else.' And he knew what something else he was going to do.

Ember was going to be up soon. She needed to eat before she left.

Tony headed for the kitchenette. It was a far cry from the counter space they'd had at their house, but he could make do here. Their menu had been reduced to mere staples; that had never stopped him before. Milk, eggs, sugar, sift some flour to get the air inside, baking powder, pinch of salt, get the stovetop on. Soon he was globbing pancake batter onto his favorite frying pan to sizzle and puff up. The first one came out a little rough, it always did, that was his cooking snack. But after that, he was turning out half-inch-thick flapjacks with glee.

"Hey," Ember finally came out into their living/dining room, hair still mussed and pajamas still on.

"Morning Em! Got a plate here for you," he handed it off. "Already buttered them and everything, and sprinkled a little extra sugar on top."

"Thanks Pop." She took the plate with a small smile. Thankfully she didn't ask for syrup.

For a moment Tony could picture it like one of those old nostalgic commercials; he was the stay-at-home mom ripped right out of the 1950s, Ember was his wide-eyed child, and everything was just right in the world.

"Is this pile clean?"

Tony looked at the hamper she was pointing at. He took a moment to try and remember. "…Yeah that's the clean one right now. I'll get those hung up in a minute, just had another late night last night."

"It's okay," she sat on the couch and began to eat. Tony paused to gauge her reaction; she closed her eyes, savoring it. He gave a little fist-pump before returning to his work, turning out the rest of the batter. Arrange them on a plate, get the plastic wrap over the leftovers, and he was just putting them away when Ember returned her dish to the sink. "I'll take care of it, don't worry."

"Thanks," she set it in carefully, before returning back. "I gotta get ready, Blitz is gonna be picking me up soon."

Right. Reality came crashing back into their idyllic little advertisement world. He watched as she went back into her room to get dressed, his mind racing over how to frame this question. "How is it by the way? Your… 'job'?"

Her voice came from behind her door, "Not too bad. I just gotta do whatever Blitz says."

Tony swallowed. "What kind of stuff does he say to do?"

"I dunno. Sweep the office, help carry his shit."

"Em," he folded his arms, "what did we say about language?"

"Sorry… carry his stuff. Running errands and things like that. It's kinda fun sometimes actually."

He carefully listened to her words. On the one hand, they did desperately need the money; much as he despised the fact that Ember had to chip in to help the family at such a young age, Tyler had been right to stop his knee-jerk opposition to it. But on the other hand… it made him sick to his stomach that she was hanging out with a bunch of demons all day. After the horrific things that they'd done all over the world and boasted about on the news, he detested the fact he hadn't been able to stop this from happening in the first place. "So this Blitz guy, do I get to meet him?"

He was answered by furious knocking at the door. Tony's heart jumped. Was that Crimson?! What date was it, had they missed something? But then a different voice called: "Hey Ember, get your ass out here, you're on the fucking clock!"

Tony stared at the front door. Ember slowly poked her head from her room, her face sheepish, looking at her father's reaction. From the way she winced, he must have looked quite displeased. "…Can you let him know I'll just be a minute?"

More pounding. "COME ON! We don't got all fucking day! Time is money, and I'm not wasting another fucking—"

Tony threw the door open to interrupt the imp's knocking. His fist froze in mid-air, craning his neck back to look up. Those sharp teeth grinned. "…Welllll, are you Pop or Dad?"

He looked the demon up and down. Black coat, tall for one of the imps, skinny, sharp tail, cuffs studded with massive gems, with a crossbow slung over his shoulder. Tony barely even registered that he knew their family names. "I'd be Pop. I take it you're Ember's boss?"

"The one and only! Name's Blitz, the 'o' is silent!"

Tony opened his mouth to say his piece… and then faltered. "The 'o'?"

"Yeah, 'o' is silent. What's not to get?" He snickered and flicked a business card into one hand. Tony took it and read the name: Blitzø Buckzo. "Now come on, where's Ember? We got shit to do, she's got training!" And he patted the crossbow over his shoulder.

He felt his heart stop again. "She's not using that."

"This? Noooooo, don't be stupid!" Blitzø scoffed. "She's starting with the cheap old spare, I don't want her breakin' my good shit!"

Tony checked, Ember was still in her room. He closed the front door behind him, stepping out onto the sidewalk to face the imp alone. Then he bent forward, lowering his voice: "Listen, I don't know what you think you're doing with her, but if you hurt a single hair on her head you'll answer to me and my husband both. And my husband knows how to use a gun."

The grin only widened on Blitzø's face. "Wow. That the best shit you got? Since we're trading fun facts, I also know how to use a fork. That supposed to be scary too?"

Tony saw that smug little grin. All rational thought left him. His fingers suddenly seized the imp's jacket and yanked him into the air, twisting around and slamming him into the side of the apartment. "READ MY FUCKING LIPS! IF YOU SO MUCH AS—"

A blade unsheathed. Tony cut off at the feeling of sharp steel on his neck.

Blitzø still had that grin, and his eyes had narrowed dangerously. "Put me the fuck down. Now."

His senses finally caught up with him. Quivering, Tony bent down to lower the imp back onto his feet. All the while, Blitzø kept the knife on his neck, his expression still cocky.

"Good human. Now let me go."

His fingers still shook. Tony had to mentally shout for them to wrench open.

Blitzø tilted his head. "Tell you what, I'll drag you to the tower right now," his eyes flicked over to the Strat down the street. "Ozzie's real fuckin' soft with you humans, but I tell him you just attacked me? You'll find out he's got his limits. Or I could just kill you right now. Dump your body in the street, they sweep it up, one less dipshit spoiling my morning."

Tony could barely breathe. He felt his heart on the verge of exploding.

"…You're fucking lucky I want Ember to start the day in a good mood." With a sigh, he let his knife hand fall back again, re-sheathing the blade. Those infernal yellow and red eyes kept gleaming, and Tony felt distinctly like a mouse in the clutches of a cat. Blitzø leaned one hand against the apartment wall, those eyes going half-lidded. "So anyway, you or the huzz happen to be monsterfuckers?"

Before Tony could even begin to deny it, the door opened. Ember emerged, looking back and forth expectantly. "Hey, uh… Blitzø, this is my Pop. Pop, this is Blitzø."

The demon grinned. "Yeah we were just gettin' acquainted."

"Yeah, uh…" Tony nodded, "we were just talking…"

From the way Ember looked up at him though, he must have been very clearly still shaken. "…Everything okay?"

"It's fiiiiine. Your dad just pissed himself because he was scared to meet a demon like me. He'll get better though! Come on, get in the van!"

Blitzø waved her off and she obeyed, like a kid making for a school bus. Then the imp turned, looked over his shoulder at Tony again.

"Learn to treat a hellborn with a little fuckin' respect, 'kay?"

With a wink, a click of his tongue, a finger gun, Blitzø left Tony alone in the apartment.

Millie leaned forward, both elbows on the tablecloth as she locked eyes with Moxxie. He similarly leaned forward, just taking in the sight of her. A lively piano filled the restaurant around them with staccato jazz. "So," she bit her lip teasingly, "fine cut like you come 'round these parts often?"

Moxxie played along, "Wellll, whenever I can take the time. What with the life of a, ah…" his eyes hooded, "professional assassin for hire."

"Oooooh, a career man. Don't tell me you're not already taken?"

"That depends. I got my eye on a pretty lady right now…"

Millie grinned, "What a coincidence, got my eye on a cutie myself." The pair of them snickered together. It was good to have a date night again, something to keep their mind off the looming pressures of everything.

Just as they recomposed themselves, their human waiter returned with a bottle of champagne. "Sir, madam, shall I pour for you?"

"Fuck no! We can do it ourselves!" Millie swiped it out of his hands, making him jump back slightly. "Go on, we'll tell you when we're ready to order!" He paced out a quick retreat, looking over his shoulder before moving on. Millie stood up onto her chair and began to shake the bottle before nestling it in her elbow. "Twenty bucks I get him in the head…"

Her thumb yanked the cork out just enough for it to POP from the bottle. It arced through the air and bounced right atop the waiter's head, making him duck and recoil in surprise.

"HA! Fuckin' nailed it! You see that Mox?!"

He did chuckle… but only a little bit. "Yeah, good aim Millie."

She kept posing there, watching his muted reaction. Then she leapt back to the floor and poured herself a glass, and then Moxxie. "Soooo, there was something I wanted to ask you."

"Yeah?"

Millie took a moment to savor the fizzing wine on her tongue. Oh that hit the fucking spot, she looked forward to downing so many more glasses of this stuff up here. "You still got your heart set on Vienna?"

His eyes picked up that distinct shimmer he always got when he started daydreaming. "I mean, if we could that'd be amazing! It'd be so beautiful, we could go to a different theater every day of the week, maybe we can get Mackie an instrument of her own and she can learn to play and then she'll be a famous musician!" Then he suddenly snapped back to reality. "I-If she wanted to, of course! Just that if she wanted it, I'd totally support her. Besides, I think it'll be easier to get a place there than anywhere near Broadway…"

Just what she was hoping to hear. "Funny you should say that actually… my folks found some rich guy holed up where they're at, one of those high-rollin' business types? Broke into his bunker and he was beggin' for his life, tried givin' them everything he has… and it turns out, he's got a condo in Manhattan." She leaned forward, her grin widening, watching Moxxie's excitement grow. "My family ain't city folk, so they don't really want it. So they asked me if we'd want it for after Armageddon."

"No way…"

"Yes way!"

"We could actually raise Mackie there, right in New York City!"

"Ah ah," She lifted her glass again, a devilish look on her face, "New Pride City, remember? To the victors go the namin' rights!"

She downed her drink, before turning in her seat. Speaking of… she spotted another waiter at the next line of tables over.

"Hey! Nobody's taken our fuckin' order!" She chucked the glass at him, which shattered against the tabletop of the shark trio he was serving. "What, too good to serve a hellborn like us?! Chop chop! And bring me a new glass!"

"Millie!" Mox's frantic tone caught her off guard. "Calm down!"

She looked at him in shock. "I'm just havin' a bit of fun! Come on, what's the matter? I thought you liked messin' with 'em too!"

"I mean, yeah, it's kinda fun still…" His expression sharpened for a moment, "…especially if they really deserve it." Moxxie's grin faded again though. He began to rub at the back of his neck, looking down at the plate before him.

"…But?"

"…Nothing, it's nothing. It's stupid. Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything."

The lights above flickered a bit. Both of them glanced up. Then the lights steadied again. Millie sighed, returning to the conversation. "Come on, Mox."

He hesitated. "…It's Blitzø's new hire."

"Ember?" Millie began to connect the dots. "Mox, that's different. She's different! She's fun, she's not one of these pricks." She shot a glare at the waiter she'd just targeted, trying to desperately clear the glass off the table while the sharks leered at him. "You're just overthinking it. She'd understand the difference, she wouldn't mind!"

"No no, it's not that." He folded his arms, struggled to put his words together. "It's not just Ember, you know? She was talking about her parents, and they're having a rough time too…"

Right. Ember had said that. "Well, uh… I mean, I don't think any of these guys here are them. If you want I can ask? And if it's not them then it's open season!"

Moxxie still didn't seem comforted though. "I mean, I guess, but still there's…" His words continued to fail him.

"What's the matter? The whole reason we're up here is to beat these little mortal fucks and rub their noses in it! The Sins said it themselves, Heaven even said it, the living world is ours! What is there to feel bad about?!"

Moxxie reached out, his fingers messing with the base of his wine glass. Finally he said it: "Ember said it was my dad menacing her family."

Millie's stomach churned. This was about Crimson; she didn't dare make light of it now.

"I don't know, the first few weeks, yeah it was fun messing with people, taking what we wanted, for once not being on the bottom of the cosmic dogpile any more. And that's what I thought the rest of our lives were gonna be like." He tentatively picked up his glass, staring at it. "Then things slowed down, and we met Ember, and now all of a sudden we know one of them. And my dad's here, causing problems for people because it's all he knows how to do. And it just got me thinking…"

Millie didn't want to risk assuming any more. "Thinking about what?"

He looked into his glass. Millie could just see his face reflected in it. "To the humans… am I just like him?"

"Mox no! No, you're nothing like him!"

His eyes flitted back to her. "You know that. But does he?" He gestured at their waiter again. The human had been looking their way but quickly averted his gaze.

"I don't think it's the same thing though! Look, your father's real nasty, he's always trying to get something out of someone, he's trying to trap people and lie and steal. We've just been having fun! It's totally different!"

"Yeah, I guess. Sorry, like I said, it's just something stupid that's been in my mind the past few days…"

Millie didn't reply, she just watched Moxxie grab another piece of the free bread and stuff it in his mouth. Come on, he was worried about nothing! It was totally different, right? They were nothing like his piece of shit dad! Crimson threw his weight around, tormenting whomever he wanted, taking whatever he wanted, because he felt it was his! That wasn't… it wasn't the same…

"Madam?" She hadn't noticed the waiter finally returning to their table. His face wore a terrified smile. "You had said you were ready to order?"

"Uh…" Right. Yeah. She had said that. "Actually I think I need a little more time."

"Absolutely no trouble at all! Please, feel free to call and I will be happy to help you!" He began to turn away.

"Actually…" Her voice caught him back. "I, ah… I'm sorry for hittin' you with the cork earlier. And for throwin' the glass at the other guy."

The waiter kept standing there, still forcing the smile, though she could see confusion veiled behind his eyes. "I beg your pardon?"

"…I'm sorry? For doin' that?"

He blinked a few times, struggling to process the apology, glancing about like he suspected a trap. Finally he responded, "…Thank you madam. I greatly appreciate it."

She nodded. "Also uh… I do need a new wine glass. Please?"

Another shock. "Of course madam. Right away, madam."

Millie watched him walk away, before turning back to Moxxie. His face had notably brightened. Thank Satan. "So anyways, you think we should get Mackie an instrument?"

Loona kept walking past rows of houses, eyes glued to her phone, as Ember kept weaving around her. For fuck's sake, why did Dad have to stick her with humansitting duty?

"Hey hey!" Ember forced her to look up from her screen. She had her crossbow in hand, pointing at a street sign. "Gonna get that!"

"…Okay?"

Ember raised her weapon, carefully aimed down the sights, and then loosed the bolt. It sailed right past the sign. "Shit, look out!"

A baphomet turned at her shout, just in time for the bolt to lodge in the fence just between his horns. He flinched away with a bleat, before scowling.

"Sorry! Sorry, still learning! Uh, can I get my bolt back?"

A growl answered her, and she darted back behind Loona. The hellhound rolled her eyes. "Still can't believe Blitzø let you use that."

"I'm practicing, okay?!"

Loona shook her head before striding up the driveway of the next house. She had to at least pretend to be doing her job, even if it was fucking stupid. Her finger pressed the doorbell, and moments later a possessor had answered her. "Hi," her voice reflected her enthusiasm, "I'm here to let you know the Ring-famous I.M.P. has set up shop locally, and is now offering a 2-for-1 deal on assassinations. 'When you want somebody gone, and you don't wanna wait too long—'"

The door slammed in her face and she was already turning around. They didn't even take a flyer. Dad kept printing more of these, he was going to level every forest on the planet at this rate. Whatever. She let one slip from her pile so she could at least pretend someone took it.

So it went for another hour, until they'd crossed into an industrial area, walking past a long low warehouse. Ember had thankfully calmed down, slinging her crossbow over her shoulder. "Check it out, I'm like a medieval soldier. Off to the fair, my liege!"

Loona kept trying to ignore it. They stepped by a fresh notice on the wall: "Property of Knolastname Family Inc. New business coming soon!" Ugh, Moxxie's dad. Just keep walking, get the fuck out of here.

"…Hey Loona?"

"What?"

"Blitzø said that you guys were made by Beelzebub, right?"

"Yeah."

"Why did he make you like this instead of like, flies or something?"

"Oh my fucking… first of all, she. And she's more of a fox and bee thing."

"You sure? In the book I was reading, Beelzebub looked like—"

"Well the book is fucking wrong." She halted in her tracks and wheeled on Ember. "You asked a fucking question and I gave you an answer and now you don't want it."

Ember just stared back, mouth agape. "I'm just asking! I'm curious! If Hell's gonna be ruling Earth then I wanna know what it's like and how it works! I just wanna know about you and the King Sin that made you! Or Queen Sin, I guess!"

"I don't know, Bee's chill, I guess? She throws cool parties and everything. She's super nice and friendly and shit. You want me to give you a full breakdown of her or what?"

"You don't need to be an asshole about it!"

"I'm not being an asshole! I'm trying to answer your fucking question!"

The wall just past them exploded.

Loona stumbled forward, nearly knocking Ember aside as she recoiled from the sudden blast. Bricks and boxes shattered and spilled across the road. More explosions from inside the building, an alarm going off, and in the dust filling the air she could hear voices, "Go go go, get to hiding!" Humans sprinting out…

"HEY!"

Loona's voice made them all recoil. "SHIT! Go! GO!"

She sprinted forward, dropping to all fours and pouncing on one of the fleeing saboteurs. The human fell forwards with a scream. Loona forced her onto her back, growling. "What the FUCK do you think you're doing?!"

Her catch was clearly terrified, panting. But even as her jaw quivered, she shook her head. "We're not letting Crimson do it. We're not letting him do this to us!"

"Do what?!"

"He's turning this warehouse into a jail. We know it's for us, gonna cram us inside like cattle. We're not gonna let it happen!"

"Yeah? And how about what I'm gonna do to you? I just caught a human trying to attack us. That's free game right there…"

The woman's defiance hardened, but her fear also escalated. Oh she was going to get a reward for this, that'd be at least a few nights out on the town! And then—

Ember called, her voice uncharacteristically nervous, "Loona? What kind of place is this?"

She looked up. With the dust now cleared, she could see that the humans had blasted through a cell inside. Harsh iron bars framed a long hallway, and at the other end she could see the pinstripe suited sharks in a frenzy. Boxes had been stacked within which now spilled over the sidewalk, spilling out plain white bags filled with kibble.

Loona stared. She recognized that kibble. She recognized those bags. And those bars were all too familiar… "It's a hellhound pound."

Her eyes snapped back down to the human she had pinned under one hand. A human, the most insolent race in the cosmic order, the ones who sneered at all the gifts dumped over them.

Loona lifted her hand away. "Go."

The woman slowly began to push herself back, out from underneath Loona.

"Get out of here, go already! Fuck! Faster!"

She rolled onto her knees, then she was on her feet and running.

Loona stood back up as well, watching after her. Ember came closer, her voice quiet, "There are hellhound pounds?"

"Yeah. I…I guess there still are." Her fur prickled as she looked inside the complex again. Even a whole world away from where she’d grown up, even with the building half-ruined, she felt like the walls would close in on her again if she wasn’t looking. "…Let's go back to the office."

The alarm kept ringing down the whole street.

Chapter Text

Art done by myself!

"Der Krieg ist kein Grund für unsere Versklavung! Wir sind das Volk!"

Admiral Barite sat at her desk, hands clasped and set on her chin, watching the demonstration from her computer monitor. Despite the December snowfall there were already claims it was a record-setting gathering. The crowd waved signs equating the generals with the demons, signs with slogans like "RETTET UNSER WOCHENENDE" and "NEIN zur Junta!" A junta, they were calling this a junta. It all made her stomach churn, especially considering the knock-on effects. Germany was their strongest member state right now; there'd been no incursions on their soil. If they couldn't hit production targets, it would have to fall onto the other members, and there was already grumbling from the public across Scandinavia and the Baltics…

On the one hand, she could almost understand their perspective. In any other scenario she would have sided with them. But… could they not understand the necessity of this level of mobilization? The need to sacrifice for the common defense? It made her second-guess herself — as the Supreme Allied Commander Europe, she had precious little room to do that. Was she actually going too far? Were her good intentions leading her towards the tyranny they claimed? Every self-criticism was met with an iron justification; every insistence on her righteousness led to her reminding herself that that was the path to cruelty. Her eyes flitted to the countdown timer. Only a little over three weeks remaining, second by second ticking by…

Her door opened, and the young officer appeared. "Commander? You wanted to see me?"

"Major Skepper? Yes, come in." Barite shoved her self-doubts deep down inside as her guest entered the office. He took the seat across from her, tucking his cap into his arm, clearly nervous. She remembered feeling that same way the first time she sat across from an 'important' officer. "How is everything in Vaucluse?"

"The warheads are being reloaded. They'll be recalibrated and ready within a week."

"Very good, very good." She offered a smile. "It's alright, you're not in trouble. I just wanted your perspective on something."

"Of course." He bit his lip, "Is this about what I said in Brussels?"

Barite didn't answer right away. Her eyes looked to the side, her fingers drumming on her desktop as she considered how to put her thoughts together. "You grew up in Phoenix, right?"

"…I'm sorry?"

"Arizona. Phoenix, Arizona, isn't that right?"

"…That's right, Commander."

"Do you still have family there?"

"My mother, and my two brothers. Eastern part of the suburbs."

"Have you had a chance to talk to them recently?"

He paused again. "…More in recent weeks, than I had been. But since Hell took the nuclear plant, and the lines from the Hoover Dam were cut, it's kind of a crapshoot if their neighborhood even gets reliable power. But they're okay, they're on our side of the line. The demons only made it to Buckeye before the ceasefire."

Barite nodded, itching to get to the point. "Now forgive me if I'm pressing too far, and also forgive me if I'm mistaken with my American geography, but that region there, it's a more conservative and religious one?"

Skepper hesitated, raising his brow. "I'm willing to say it, yes it is."

"Was that the state that elected Governor Shaw?"

He shook his head, "Thankfully not."

"I don't mean to pry. I've just been wondering why someone from that background would be so suspicious, then, of Heaven's intentions?"

He hesitated. Then gave a weak laugh, "Commander, with all due respect, I don't know how appropriate this conversation is. It's not proper to be interrogating religious beliefs in the line of duty, we need to —"

"Hell is real." Barite cut him off. "You can turn on any channel right now and you can see them. Two months ago would it have been inappropriate to ask what you thought of any given country's intentions?"

"… No ma'am."

She gestured for him to speak.

"I don't really know, it's not my place to analyze foreign policy… even towards Heaven?" He seemed to realize the absurdity of his words as he said them. "I don't even really know which 'Heaven' it is. But growing up out there, growing up in the United States, a lot of churches have that 'us versus them' mentality. You're part of our group, or you're the enemy. And right now, it's very clear we're not part of Heaven's group. So by process of elimination, we would then be considered their enemy."

Admiral Barite nodded along, her eyes on her desk, thinking over his words carefully. When he finished, she looked at him again. "Thank you, Major. I just needed to hear that out loud."

He still seemed on edge. "I hope that I've not expressed anything to make you doubt my commitment to this alliance, Admiral."

"No. Not at all. I actually brought you here precisely because I hoped you'd have the kind of objective strategic mind I need to talk to right now. And I will expect you to question me and my logic during our conversation here, do you understand?" His nod answered her. "You know the old saying, the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Yet I cannot shake the fear that when Heaven arrives and slaughters Hell, we will also be targeted."

She glanced at the young major, giving him an in. He cleared his throat, "At the same time, we can't say for sure that they won't be on our side. My personal suspicions aside, I can't claim that they are certainly our enemy."

"This is true. They are an unknown factor so far. " She slowly picked up her brassy pen, twirling it between her fingers. "That leaves us with ourselves, and the one faction that is a known factor."

Skepper barely stifled the dawning surprise on his face. "Commander, what exactly are you proposing?"

"The leadership of Hell is brutal, yes. They want to sweep aside human civilization and rule as tyrants. They are… demonic, it's not even an insult to call them that. Yet they are willing to negotiate. Aside from some scattered skirmishes, they have upheld their end of the ceasefire with us. If Heaven does end up being our enemy, then the enemy of our enemy may be a… useful strategic partner. Temporarily."

Skepper stayed quiet. She watched his face, clearly put off by her idea… yet not saying much against it. "Commander, I don't know if the rest of the coalition will accept such an arrangement."

She kept turning the pen around and around her fingers, letting her silence speak.

"…Commander?"

"The initial shock has worn off, Major. We've managed to keep Hell at bay and get our bearings. Do you know what we're fighting for now?"

"Our survival. Our freedom as a species."

Barite leaned forward, "We're fighting for eternity now."

"We're fighting for eternity now," General Aksanov corrected his subordinate. "We're fighting for the afterlife. Whoever wins Armageddon… and whoever is on the winning side of Armageddon, will shape the course of the world forever."

He stood at the head of a long table in a lavish room underneath St. Petersburg, facing parallel rows of generals and admirals. By Aksanov's side sat the Primate of the Russian Orthodox Church, an old bearded man with a white koukoulion on his head and an ornate crosier in one hand. The Patriarch nodded along with his words before speaking himself, "God showed grace by sparing the infants and little children from these difficult times. He showed trust by leaving us here so that we might prove ourselves worthy of His embrace. We will rise to occasion."

Aksanov peered around the room. The gathered men did well to hide their disquiet; he had to hide his own. This was no time for emotion.

The Patriarch shifted in his seat, curling his staff closer to his body. "We must make the right choice, for our souls and for the souls of our people," the words rolled from his cracked lips. "On the Day of Judgment, we will join with Heaven, and strike the cities occupied by the hellspawn with the full might and fury of our great nation. In this way we will find favor in the Lord's eyes and be rewarded for our righteousness. Our alternatives are torment, and oblivion."

"Your Holiness," a question raised, "this includes a nuclear strike?"

"It must. They are the only weapon we have to destroy the infernal lords. It will expunge the invading demons from our worlds, and for those caught in the crossfire…" his voice was grave, "we must intercede for them on behalf of our Heavenly Father…"

Aksanov kept nodding along, eyeing the map pinned on the wall. Positions for fleets, flight paths for bombers, and red pins stuck in Hell's enclaves: Moscow, Istanbul, Tehran… and many down the Chinese shoreline.

General Miao scoffed, "Of course I am aware that there are schemes around us."

He spoke with his fellow leaders around a circular table, himself seated before the national seal, the Forbidden City eclipsed by five stars and framed in a circle of wheat. They all remained silent as he continued:

"They find it convenient to have an excuse to attack us. For decades they have been afraid of our growing power. Now they can destroy a dozen of our greatest cities and pretend they are justified to do so. I have already made it clear that we will not accept any strike on our sovereign soil."

An older officer spoke up, "Did they agree?"

"For now. But they are moving their nuclear fleets close to our shores. They say it in the open, because they think it makes them trustworthy." Miao shook his head. "I know them. They speak with mouths full of honey. The moment we lower our guard, they will betray us. We must stand alone in this, as we always have."

He rose from his seat, pointing at a map in the middle of the table, showing every incursion in Asia.

"For thousands of years, we have been the playthings of gods and demons. But it has been proven that our modern technology can harm them. It is the time for us to become masters of our own fate, a new order of freedom for our species. And we are strong enough to be the leaders of this new era. In two hundred years we will have gone from a Century of Humiliation to the saviors of all the human race. Our enemies know we are capable of this. That is why they move against us in the shadows and in the open. That is why we must move against them and be prepared to strike first."

One of the generals motioned to speak. Miao allowed it. "You are proposing then, a pre-emptive strike? Would that not give them the justification that they wish for?"

"They do not need it. They only pretend to care about such things when it suits them, they will invent their own justification as they please. I will ask you to think of how they see us, how they have seen us for years. Do they expect us to strike first, and if so, they will pre-empt us…"

"A pre-emptive strike to a pre-emptive strike?"

General Subramani nodded to his subordinate, the pair of them on a rooftop in Lucknow. "Tensions are so high, we have to consider not just what we do and what others do, but also what others expect us to do. Does China expect us to attack them? Does Pakistan expect us to attack them? If they do, are they planning to strike us first? And if they are, it then forces our hand."

The young officer took a deep breath, rubbing the back of his neck. Even in December it was still warm here, but that wasn't what was making him sweat. "I suppose we shall have to wait and see…"

"No!" Subramani turned to him curtly. "The wars of a century ago unfolded over days and weeks. That is when you could wait and see. This war will unfold in minutes. If our enemies launch, Rajasthan and Gujarat will be destroyed before our silo doors open. We must decide now!"

The door to the rooftop opened. "General, your appointment."

Subramani motioned for his current conversation to stay. "This will only be a minute. Let them in!"

Three sharks sauntered onto the rooftop, all grinning. "So?" The lead one spread his arms, "How was the intel?"

"Useful." Subramani had to admit it was true. One of the Goetia had been trying to bypass the ceasefire with a probing skirmish… and some of the demons were more than willing to sell the information to a higher bidder. Namely, himself. The general fished a roll of paper rupees from his shirt pocket and tossed them underhanded to the shark. The demons gathered around their pay, eagerly counting it out. "Anything else you want to tell us, the door is always open."

"Yeah yeah, come on!"

They disappeared down the stairs again. Subramani could sense the young officer with him was on edge. "I still don't like them…"

"It's a new world, young man." He smiled, a thin smile. "If we are to survive in it then we must adapt. Be open to new friends and wary to new enemies. We have to take every opportunity as it comes our way…"

"Every angle must be considered," Barite consciously repeated her words from Brussels, "Every option must be laid on the table. Every assumption should be challenged."

Skepper nodded along. She could read wariness in his eyes, yet he still did not object.

"Now more than ever we need to be ready to make hard choices for the greater good. I know my decision to strike Manchester was controversial. It was a difficult decision personally, to strike my own home country. But, it brought Hell to the bargaining table. We need to think bigger than people, bigger than cities right now." She said the words to herself as much as she said it to him.

Finally the major moved to speak again, "What if we do make the wrong choice? What if we…" He didn't even want to say the unthinkable.

"Then we folow the same strategic doctrine that we've had for decades. Our first priority is to win. Failing that, our second priority is to make sure our opponents also lose."

Major Skepper take a deep breath. Again, she could sympathize with him. Even after military academy, it was hard to learn to think like an officer instead of a person. "Commander, what first steps are you considering with Hell?"

"I will make them an offer. If this goes well, we will be able to solve one problem with another…"

Sera took a deep breath as she paced through the lower corridors of the Heavenly Basilica, down where the long-defunct dungeons could be found. Only a few weeks ago they'd received their first occupant in centuries, a crisis that had been overshadowed by everything else unfolding…

"Oooh…" Peter followed alongside her, "I've never actually been down here before, this is… oh I don't know if I like it here."

She turned her face towards him, softening her expression, "It's alright. I just wish for you to be with me this time, it might prove more fruitful. We just need to figure out how it got in…"

Finally they reached the lone prisoner. Sera clasped her hands in front of her and lifted her head. "Sinner, we wish to speak with you again."

The prisoner's long serpentine form uncurled from the corner. Yellow eyes flashed in their direction, a matching hood flared around his head. An exhausted disdain met them. "What do you want this time?"

"I know you are not comfortable being honest with me, so I won't ask any more questions. I was hoping that a fellow former human might be —"

"I AM BEING HONEST WITH YOU!" The serpent threw himself at the bars with a great crash. Peter scurried behind Sera as she watched the display with stoic eyes. "I don't know how I got up here! I was with Charlie, I was piloting my ship, and then there was a flash of light, and I showed up here in front of you! Please! Why won't you believe me?!"

"Why won't you drop your ridiculous story?! You expect me to believe that a damned sinner just suddenly popped into Heaven? You would imply that the Almighty Divine made a mistake?" Her eyes narrowed. "Even now you commit blasphemy."

"Then what do you want me to say?!"

Sera felt herself getting sucked into this cycle again. She shook her head, "I will not waste more time here. Peter, you have leave of the prisoner…" With that she strode back outside, waiting for his results.

It was a beautiful day in Heaven. Such a downer, merely a beautiful day. Luckily the forecast called for resplendent weather again tomorrow. Sera took a deep breath in. So many pure souls getting merely a taste of eternal bliss, it did her heart good to witness them.

One group caught her eye, grouping together with a few angels by the edge of the cloud. Sera stepped over, "How are we doing today?"

A few of them looked up eagerly at her words. "We're just getting things ready! Look!" They gestured at a row of recliners and parasols looking out over the world below. "We'll be able to watch the Exorcists all the way up here! How many people do you think will be left when they're done, how long will it take?"

Sera blinked, careful to not let her smile falter. "I see, it's a great viewing spot. But remember, Armageddon is not meant to be a spectacle. Our hope is that it'll just be the demons left over. Everyone else on Earth will hopefully be joining us. Father is a shepherd, we will be gathering His flock back into His embrace."

"Right. Yeah, of course!"

The dismissive tone in their voice did not comfort Sera much. She gestured one of the angels over and leaned close, "I would expect better from you. It's not right to relish our regrettable duties to Father."

All the angel did in response was to shrug, "Sera, it's Armageddon. Surely we're allowed to enjoy the show a little bit, right? We're already in Heaven, we can do whatever we want."

A few passing souls had overheard the conversation and paused, clearly perturbed. "The show?" Their eyes went to the waiting chairs, then back to them. "That doesn't seem very nice…"

Sera nodded. "You're right. I'm setting this straight, don't worry." She watched as they slowly went on their way before turning to the angel again. "Let me be more direct. It's not, strictly speaking, wrong to do this. But it is vulgar and gauche. Have a little decorum for the gravity of the situation. And be a better role model for the human souls."

They lifted their hands in quiet surrender, returning to their fellows. Sera shook her head. She hated to see Armageddon be treated like a sporting event…

The daylight grew long. Still Peter did not emerge. Sera began to picture some horrible scenario, maybe the demon had seized him?! She made her way back into the basilica with quickened steps, back down to the dungeon… until she could hear voices, first the sinner's:

"—don't know what to tell her to get her to believe me! I know I shouldn't be up here! Not after… after everything I told you…" Was the sinner's voice coming out broken? Teary even?

Peter now, "It'll be alright. Thank you, for everything you told me. I'll see what I can do for you."

"Wait!" Sudden motion in the cell. "Can I have something else in here to do? I've already read this book all the way through five times. A chemistry set? A diesel engine for scraps? Anything?"

"…I'll be back tonight with something. I promise." Peter was now walking towards her. Sera backpedaled at his approach, pretending she had been outside the entrace for a while. Peter emerged to see her, "I think I got something."

"I had been getting worried about you. You were down here such a long time."

"It takes some time to get to know someone, yeah."

He stepped in front of her, right at the edge of one of basilica's exteral entrances. The marblework lifted into the air above them as he opened his book and flipped through it with a practiced efficiency.

"His name was Pendleton, born about 2600 ab urbe condita. And right… here, yes, it says that he had been taken off our roster for practicing the sin of Sloth. A failure to do good."

"Hmm…" Sera flicked her eyes over to the doorway again. "I would have thought he had a more malevolent crime, for him to have found a way to slither his way here. Did you find out how he got in? We have to find this weakness and patch it before Armageddon, or we will be vulnerable to an attack from within our walls!"

Peter closed his book again, slowly nodding, but with an awkward look on his face. "About that… no, I did not find out about any kind of secret entrance to Heaven." That prompted an exasperated sigh from her. "But! But, I think there's something you need to hear! I asked him more about the sin that sent him to Hell. He had witnessed a murder outside his home, but for fear of being targeted he kept his mouth silent even as more identical killings took place. Yes, he failed to stop something terrible, but… well, there's more."

Sera motioned him along, waiting for him to get to his point.

"He told you that he got killed in battle with the Exorcists and Adam. But he didnt mention that he was trying to sacrifice himself to save the people around him. He cared enough about them to put their needs before his own. Sera, he messed up, he knows that. But ten minutes after you left he was crying to me about it. I really think —"

"No."

"Sera!" He seemed flabbergasted by her denial. "I think he actually — "

"He is not redeemed!"

"Do you see his clothes? No demon wears an outfit like that! We do, here in Heaven!"

"He could have taken them off anyone when he arrived!"

"You said he appeared right in front of you. That he was already dressed like that! Why can't you accept that — "

"You forget your place, Simon Peter."

It was the harshest she had ever spoken to him. For a moment Sera let her angelic nature shine through, hundreds of eyes and shimmering skin and an aura of incomprehensible might. Peter shrunk back in shock, holding his book in front of him for cover. Slowly his gaze fell… before they closed. "It wouldn't be the first time."

"Neither of us are to question the order of things. Sinners are damned souls, they cannot be redeemed, they had their chance!"

Peter stayed still for a few seconds longer. "…I said, I'd forgotten my place before. Two thousands years ago. Rabbi had been telling us that one day we would turn our backs on Him. And I tried to tell Him I would never do such a thing. And He said, before morning broke on that day, I would deny knowing him three times. I thought He was just speaking in riddles, He… He liked doing that," he gave a weak laugh. "…And then He got arrested. And He did nothing. He let them take Him away, He didn't even defend himself. I thought at any second He would… do something. That He'd call for everyone to rise up. And we'd drive out the Romans like we thought He was going to. And instead He just… let them kill Him. And before long they were already looking for us, for anyone around Him. And…"

Peter finally paused, swallowing thickly. His eyes had opened again, glassy.

"…And I kept saying, I didn't know him. This Nazarene rabble-rouser, what kind of idiot would follow him? Me, his right-hand man? Never! I did not know him, I never knew him! And then… the rooster crowed. Rabbi looked at me. And I realized that He had been right all along about me. I was a coward. A traitor. And… the look on His face. I've never forgotten it. After He had called me Petros, the rock that His work would build on, I'd crumbled…"

Sera let him keep going. It had been so long since she'd seen him quivering like this, not since he'd arrived still clutching at the wounds where he had been nailed to his own cross.

"That's where I'd forgotten my place. And you know what happened next?"

"…You were forgiven."

"I was forgiven. I was made the Keeper of the Keys of Heaven. Sera, I was redeemed. It can happen!"

"That was different, Peter."

"Why was it different?"

"Because it just is!" Because if the souls in Hell could have been redeemed all this time, then the Exterminations hadn't been targeting only the truly wicked. That would mean the angels were killers. That would make herself a killer…

Before Peter could further press the issue, the click of heels got their attention. Thank Father, it was Lute. "Sera, our 'special guest' was asking for us."

Peter spoke up first, "Actually if it's alright, we were just in the middle of a — "

"I'll be there right away. Thank you Lute. And Peter, thank you for your help today, and your thoughts. We will continue this conversation later, I promise." After she'd had a chance to think her way through the moral conundrum she was facing. Peter nodded, and Sera took her leave with Lute.

Minutes later they were sitting across from Lilith in her private garden.

She wore the same sunglasses and sunhat, the same flowing dress, the same inscrutable expression as usual. Sera and Lute watched as she lifted a cup of tea to her lips and gave it a slow sip. She was so far removed from the free-spirited soul that had been running around Eden. She was so far removed, even, from the flailing screaming creature that had been cast out along with Lucifer and the Sins. It had been great gossip when she'd shown up to Heaven's gates several years ago, and even greater when Father Himself had mandated her admittance.

"Well?" Lute drummed her fingers along her folded arms. "You wanted to see us?"

Lilith kept drinking her tea.

A chill ran along Sera's spine. This garden resembled Eden in many ways, but it was still ever so slightly off. It remained a constructed paradise, without the raw feeling of true creation in its roots. Sera could never shake the uncanny sensation it gave her.

"Hey! We got shit to do!" Lute shrugged off Sera's scolding glance before continuing. "Case you forgot, we're gonna have your lover boy's head on a pike in three weeks."

Finally Lilith lowered her cup, not betraying any emotion. "Am I not allowed to desire a friendly conversation?"

"For fuck's sake…" Lute rolled her eyes, "this your idea of a joke? Making us waste our time when we are coming up on the most important battle that will ever happen? I have Exorcists to coordinate, weapons to manufacture and distribute."

Lilith looked her way, eyes still hidden, mouth still neutral, yet with a decidedly alert glance. "Have you not had millennia to prepare?"

A growl from Lute. Sera admired her self-control right now; if it was anyone else, anyone whom Father had not declared off-limits, Lute would be on her feet and grabbing the offending party and ranting herself hoarse. Instead her nails dug into her nearly-healed arm, the pain ironically only enraging her further. Sera tried to take over the conversation now, "Lilith, you said you had something you wanted to tell us. Something important enough to get both of us. I'm listening."

The human was already busy distracting herself with her tea again, evidently requiring more sugar. Her teaspoon clinked about within her porcelain cup. She stared into the swirling liquid. "Father and I have been talking again."

Sera sat forward, "What about?"

"If you were meant to know, He would tell you, now wouldn't He?" She offered no visible satisfaction at her verbal blow. "But He did tell me something to warn you two about." Lilith set the teaspoon back down. "There are traitors in Heaven."

Lute immediately perked up. "How? Who? What will they do?"

Lilith merely raised her cup to her lips again. Sera kept herself silent as she processed this. Traitors… this must be how the sinner had gotten into Heaven! The moment Armageddon began, they would be overrun! But… why? "Lilith, can you tell us any more?"

She took her time with this sip, letting it linger for what felt like agonizing hours. Finally she lowered it again. "I'd suggest you ask Father for details."

"Please. Lilith," Sera tried to take her free hand; the human immediately slid it back away from her. Right. Sera pulled back again, but still tried to plead with her, "I know that you're worried for your family. But whatever you think would happen if Hell wins Armageddon, it's not right. It would be barbarism, cruelty would reign. It'd be a world where might makes right."

"Yes… what a terrible world that would be." Lilith's head canted towards Lute, who kept scowling back at her.

"You have to tell us who the traitors are. You have to tell us how they're letting sinners into Heaven. Not for our sakes, for your people. All of humanity."

Silence again. Steam swirled from her cup.

"Lilith, please."

"I've told what Father wanted me to. What is it you say, God works in mysterious ways?"

Lute rose from her seat, "We're done here. Come on Sera, we have more important things to worry about than someone dragged up here to watch everyone else take the fall."

Sera did indeed begin to follow her — until Lilith spoke again: "Two more things before you go."

Both stilled at her words. The human kept her eyes down on her drink.

"Lute, you seem very keen on preparing for the battle. Preparing arms and men."

"Yeah?"

Lilith didn't even bother looking up at her. "Here I thought Heaven's victory was destiny."

"It is."

"Then why the worry?"

Lute scowled, and again if it was anyone else the table would have been flipped halfway across the garden. Sera looked back down at Lilith. "The other thing?"

"Yes…" She finally lifted her gaze again, her shielded eyes fixated right on Sera's. "Never try to use my daughter and husband against me again."

Lucifer stepped through the portal into a cacophonous menagerie of sinners, chaos filling the air, voices shouting directions. One of those voices… he followed it up the stairs to the landing, where Charlie was currently doing five things at once: "No no, that's going to Room 237! Go talk to Alastor, he knows where the 2:05 PM therapy room is! Those sheets are NOT folded properly! I can't take a call right now, you gotta do it yourself! Ugggggggh…"

He came up behind her without her noticing, feeling bashful about interrupting her. "Heyyyyy Charlie!"

She whirled about. "Dad!" Her arms wrapped around him. The gesture surprised him for a moment, before he returned it. It was good to have this back… Charlie pulled away after a few seconds, her face still clearly exhausted but also filled with delight. "I'm so glad you stopped by. I want to show you some stuff we've been working on! Come on!"

She led him to her bedroom, which had one wall covered in frantic drawings and torn out pages all covered in string and marker writing. Lucifer followed a thread pinned to a VHS cover for Mr. Wriggler's Neighborhood, leading to some cut-out pages of a Bible — ew — with passages highlighted, and then his daughter's distinct artistic style showing people crossing the road.

"Okay! Okay okay okay," Charlie got his attention again, setting up an easel with a flipboard. "So you remember Sir Pentious, right?"

"Who?"

"Sir Pentious! C'mon Dad, the snake guy who sacrificed himself for us!"

"Right, right, sorry." She'd always been so emotionally attached to sinners, he'd have to start actually learning their names if he wanted to connect with her through this.

"Anyways, I thought he just got vaporized and was dead. BUT…" She peeled a page back, "a seraph named Emily told me that Pentious had gotten into Heaven! And why would she lie about that, right? So if he got into Heaven, that means redemption for sinners is possible!"

Lucifer kept nodding along, still smiling. She was really going to follow this delusion until the last possible second, wasn't she?

"So that means," she turned the page again, "we are on the right track! I have a theory that Pentious somehow undid his sin he was sent to Hell for, so I've started having everyone make life journals to figure out what their sins are, and then we can undo them!" Another page filled with rainbows and smiles. "And then everyone gets to Heaven and the end of the world is canceled! Happily ever after!"

She looked back at him, expecting feedback. Lucifer nodded. "Charlie, that's a really great plan!"

Her smile faltered. "You don't think it'll work, do you?"

"What? No, I said…" He sighed. Fuck, he almost forgot, she was the one person who could always catch him in a lie. "I have my doubts, okay? Call it bad blood between me and Heaven. But if you think you got someone up there, then… it doesn't hurt to try. Better than any other idea we have right now."

"Don't worry, I will keep trying. No matter what! Not even Vox is gonna stop me!"

"Huh, who's that?"

"An Overlord who runs a big media empire. I've been trying to get people recruited to the hotel — you know, 'cause there's kind of been a lot of new arrivals lately?"

"There have been?" It took him a moment. Charlie lifted her hands in exasperation, trying to get him to remember. "Oh right right! Yeah, the end of the world and everything, yeah that makes sense!"

"I've been trying to do outreach and catching people when they first fall into Hell, but Vox has pulled together a lot of folks who are trying to find a way to break out. Long as they all sign their souls over to him, of course. And he keeps lying about the hotel to do it! I just can't stand it! And I don't know how to stop him!"

Lucifer nodded along. "Well, just keep trying, okay? You're very smart, you've built the hotel up this far. I'm sure you'll find a way to stop — "

Suddenly his phone buzzed. With a sigh he glanced down to silence it. Then his eyes bugged out.

"Holy shit it's the human admiral!"

"What? You mean, one of the human leaders?"

"Yes! Shit, shit, uh…" He looked around, backing himself against one of the walls, before running his hand over his hair and folding his scepter under his arm. Then he answered and threw the projection into the air before him. Lucifer cleared his throat, looking up at Admiral Barite with a serious look. "Are you here to discuss your surrender?"

Charlie visibly winced at his words. Lucifer tried to ignore her, but he could see the words she was mouthing: 'Friend-ly. Friend-ly.'

"Bold words coming from someone we have pinned in place. May I call you King Morningstar?"

"Oh please. You can just call me Lucifer, or you can call me…" He trailed off again, watching Charlie's mouthing. He'd been about to cheekily suggest 'Master' or 'Lord' or even 'Daddy', but maybe this was not the best choice of action…

"Or we can call you…?"

"…Lu?"

Barite did not seem amused by his suggestion. Yet she did not seem offended by it either, so he considered that a win. "I have been conferring with my advisors and officers, and a great concern has come to our attention. It is a matter of some spiritual consternation, but I'll be blunt: we don't know if Heaven is going to be on our side."

Yeah, no shit. Lucifer managed to suppress his eyeroll though, finally getting those necessary inhibitions in place. "Is that so? It'd be a solid guess if you ask me."

"Indeed. Which puts us in a strange position, where we have a common enemy. And if this is true, then it behooves us to cooperate."

Charlie gasped at this, and flashed two big thumbs up. Lucifer mouthed back 'What'? How could this possibly be helpful?

"Lucifer, did you hear me?"

"Yes! Yes, I heard you, you want to cooperate, so that we can work together…" He finally began processing it all. Cooperation… this could perhaps be a path out of their predicament! If they could get the human nations to work with them on this, then they could avert the worst case scenario! "Yes, that would work great! Working together! Uh, how do we do that, what are we working together on first?"

Barite shifted at her desk, picking up a picture. "I hope you'll realize that as the aggressors, it will take a gesture on your part for us to consider our alliance in effect."

"Yeah! Yeah that makes sense! What do you want us to do?"

"I'm sure you understand that we have a very fragile ceasefire in place. It's an agreement that cannot withstand wild cards and loose cannons. We need your help getting one of those wild cards under control."

She lifted the picture now to show him. It was an old man in a suit, standing before a stage adorned with a cross.

"At the moment our member country in the Americas is shattered, with our loyal forces only controlling a fraction of the territory. This man is Governor Jackson Shaw, he's currently holed up in the Hope's Peak Mountain Complex. And he has gone rogue, his sermons stir up violence against your people and our own. Worse still, the complex he sits in holds no less than thirty-six active nuclear warheads. If he goes too far, he will break the ceasefire with disastrous results."

Lucifer nodded. "Yeah, we've seen this guy. But the complex is underground and off any maps, any scouts we've sent to the area have been captured or came back empty-handed. We can't portal in somewhere when we don't know where it is."

The admiral raised her eyebrows. "This is where trust comes into play. We will give you the location of Hope's Peak. You will go in and kill him. We have been in contact with the colonel of the base, he remains loyal to our organization and the country, but he's afraid to act while the governor remains so influential. If we remove Shaw, he can quickly restore order, and we can de-escalate from there."

Lucifer waited for more. "That's it? That's all you need us to do?" A nod from Barite. "Uh, yeah. We can totally help with that! I'll contract someone soon as we can, and we'll get it sorted! It's a deal!" With a grin he lifted his hand to the projection above him … and then faltered. "Uh, sorry, it's… usually we seal this with a handshake or something."

"Our mutual word will have to do for now, Lucifer." She gave a thin smile. "We will be expecting results from you. You deliver, and we'll see how we move forward from there. Deal?"

His hands clenched his scepter more tightly. "Deal."

"Keep us informed. We'll be waiting." And the call ended.

Chapter Text

Artwork done by myself!

"And I said, 'Pluey? I hardly 'blew he!'" Fizzarolli grinned as the demonic crowd roared with laughter. Neon lighting reflected off the fangs and scales and fur of hundreds of hellborn in the theater. He soaked in their praise for a moment before waving and wandering off to the side, "Good night everyone!"

Applause followed him backstage. For a moment he felt again that old dread of judgment before it was swept away. For years he'd had to answer to Mammon's brutal post-show criticisms and that old emotional instinct still lingered. He didn't have to worry about that any more though, thank Satan.

So why did he still feel so on edge?

Fizzarolli paced through the backstage corridor, past a pair of baphomet techs, and past Patty. She was an older human, short white hair wisping just above her ears. Bony fingers gripped a broom and dustpan as as she swept a small dust bunny out of sight. Her eyes jumped up as he passed by. They had a peculiar spark in them, "Very nicely done tonight!"

"Thanks," he mumbled, stepping past. She'd been one of the humans already on the staff when they took over, and apparently she'd been here for five years. The head of household certainly never expressed any problem with Patty to Asmodeus, but still Fizzarolli found her… odd. She almost seemed too comfortable with Hell's reign. Too sharp-eyed, too willing to smile.

Whatever, it's not like she could do anything to them anyways. Fizzarolli headed for the elevator to the Strat's sky lounge, their home. On his way up he could see down the Strip, hotel towers starting to glint with evening lights.

Just at the corner of the boulevard loomed the countdown. He could watch the seconds tick by: three, two, one, zero. Then they and the minutes reset to fifty-nine. Another hour gone. Another hour closer. Fizzarolli folded his arms and tried to fixate on literally anything else in sight. At least he'd be able to talk his feelings out with Ozzie.

The doors opened, and he stepped out, a smile already breaking across his face. "Ozzie, I'm ho-ooome!"

"I already told you FUCKING NO!"

So much for that. Fizzarolli followed Asmodeus' roar to their 'living room', a sleek lounge where he was currently glowering at his phone.

"I've already rewired the fucking dam for your experiments. That cost us way too many lives because of the raids. I'm not 'sourcing' anything else for you! And if you ask me one more time I will fucking pull rank on you!" Silence on the other end. Then some quiet words. Asmodeus shook his heads, "I will be there. Are you good now? Is there anything else you want to ask for?" A curt response. "Goodbye."

He hung up, before tossing his phone on the sofa and planting his hands over his main face, letting out a long exasperated groan. Fizzarolli awkwardly stood there, trying to gauge out how long to let Ozzie get over it. After a few seconds he made his move. "One of the other Goetia?"

"Oh!" Asmodeus' attitude instantly brightened. "Froggie, I'm so sorry! I didn't hear you come in!"

"Ah it's fine. Sounds like you had something on your mind anyways." He extended his legs up, wrapping his arms around the Sin's broad shoulders and pulling himself into his embrace. Asmodeus cupped his arms underneath to make it easy to hold himself there. "Was I right? One of the other Goetia? Let me guess, Andy?" He said it in a parody of the marquis' voice.

"Ugh, don't even get me started. First of all he makes a huge fuss over getting to have Paris. Then Satan lets him have an entire nuclear power plant, that he then doesn't share any output from. Then my arm gets twisted, I'm expected to share the dam's power with him for whatever he's doing, and now he's trying to…"

He let out a dramatic sigh. Fizzarolli listened on, nodding. "Sounds like I accidentally got you started already." Asmodeus let out an amused snort. "That guy's an asshole. Why don't you just tell him off?"

"Because he says he's onto something, so Satan's all over him. Why do you think he granted him an entire power plant? And I just don't want to deal with Satan right now, he's not taking the ceasefire well…"

"Well he's an asshole too!"

The Sin struggled to hold back a laugh. "You can't say that, he made you!"

"Bitch please. I got two parents that'd say otherwise. He's an asshole, Andrealphus is an asshole," he counted them off on his fingers. "Any other assholes on your mind that I should be mad at for you?"

"Know what, add in one of the unions coming in here and squawking about how we still don't have more humans moved into the hotels yet."

Fizzarolli raised his brow. "Ohhhhh, they finally getting on your nerves?"

"I'm trying to be a nice ruler to the humans. Doesn't mean I don't get annoyed with them sometimes. It just means I don't start throwing fireballs because of it." He sighed, and his left head rolled its eyes. "I'm trying to balance things out with the hellborn who are trying to settle here, because they get mad when humans get stuff. Then the humans get mad because it was theirs in the first place, and there's so many fights and so many of the humans on this continent have guns! It's a lot, and I just need time to try to make as many people happy as possible."

"Mhm, mhm, I hear you," Fizzarolli was so grateful he didn't have to deal with these decisions themselves, he could just add snark from the sidelines. "So that's three on my shit list today, anyone else?"

"Not an actual asshole, but Stolas came in, gave me something he needs me to give Octavia, so now I gotta remember that when I go to the fucking presentation that Andy's giving."

"Hey that's an asshole thing! Making you be a mailman, come on, that's not fair. You're a King, a Goetia King! And you should feel like one…"

He narrowed his eyes, before swinging himself around onto Ozzie's back. Straddling around his waist, Fizzarolli began to knead his metallic hands into the Sin's shoulders.

"Someone's a little stressed out. Maybe you could use a massage. Maybe you could use… a little more than a massage? I got two hours until my next show after all…"

"That sounds lovely… though actually," his relaxation was cut short by perking up again, "meant to ask, you still liking the shows? You still feel good doing them?"

"They're great, really. Enough about me though, shhh…"

He could feel Ozzie's great body shudder beneath him. "Froggie, really work those muscles there, ohhhh there's a knot there, yeahhh…"

A loud buzzer broke them both from the groove. Then a succubus' voice, "Ozzie we got a problem, one of the patrols is radioing in that they're under attack. It's the jeep gang again."

The Sin shivered a bit in annoyance. Fizzarolli shouted, "Can you take care of it? He's a little preoccupied here!"

"It's kinda bad? Like… we really need you to help out here?"

Asmodeus groaned. "Fuck… okay! I'll be just a second!" As he spoke, Fizzarolli unwound from his torso, the disappointment lingering in his lower belly. "Sorry Froggie, I can't leave them out there to die."

"I know. You go save them, okay?" And Fizzarolli meant it, really, he did. Yet ever since the countdown to the end of the world had started, Asmodeus was less and less available. In a sense that was a good thing, it meant he actually cared about problems that he had the power to fix. It meant he actually gave a shit. That's what made Asmodeus different from most of the other Goetia. That's what made him different from Mammon. Fizzarolli knew that and he appreciated that.

The distractions and lack of attention still hurt though.

Was he selfish for that? Fizzarolli could feel that terrible thought nagging at the back of his mind, a sliver of guilt threatening to take root. Maybe it already had, it wasn't the first time he'd thought this. Wasn't even the first time today. The imp watched as Asmodeus rubbed the crystal on his cufflink and portaled away to deal with the attackers. He almost envied the gang, they'd get to watch the King Sin of Lust with flames in his hands, bullets striking his broad chest and taut stomach without a hint of harm…

Fuck. He hated being blueballed.

With a growl Fizzarolli made for the exit. It was a long elevator ride back down, so he pulled out his phone. A message from Barbie, all the way from Bangkok. She'd sent him a selfie in front of a wat which had been covered in spray paint. Kendra posed beside her with a wink, and on her other side were three young human men, one with a baseball bat over his shoulder. All five wore sharp grins. 'Me N the vandal buddees!' read her text.

He gave a snort. Yeah, that deserved a crying laughing emoji in response. That was a few hours ago, and he began texting back, 'Looks like a fun day out!'

She almost immediately replied. 'FUCK some sharks robbd r house! Tryin to find em. Talk l8r'

Great. Fizzarolli considered texting Blitzø, but the last thing he wanted to risk was getting a rant about how nobody gave a fuck about proper contract killing any more. He had few other contacts though, Mammon had ensured exclusivity for years and it was hard to make new friends at his age. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

His finger hesitated though. Something just felt like he was being held back…

The elevator dinged open onto the Strat casino floor. Had he pushed that button? Might as well. Pocketing his device he stepped out and headed towards the theater doors. A little pre-show, so to say. A few hellborn managed to pry their gaze from their card games and slot machines, "Holy shit! Fizzy!" That got more attention, and soon he was greeted with the familiar sensation of a crowd surrounding him. He lifted his hands and gave a smile, greeted them, thanked them for the attention. The incubi and succubi security converged and managed to keep a path cleared while still letting him interact with the adoring fans. Pens pressed into his palm and he signed his name. Confessions of love thrown at his feet and he politely acknowledged them. Dozens of faces, so similar to the hundreds of thousands that had worshipped him over his career. At least from what he could remember of them. Security finally got him backstage again, and now he was in his room and in front of his mirror and dabbing make-up on his face as the television played behind him:

"— big event later this week in front of the Half-Binned Hotel!" Katie Killjoy's annoyingly familiar voice finally broke through to him. "Remember, if you wanna not fucking die when Heaven comes to kill us, trust VoxTek! Trust us, with your survival in Armageddon! Now back to Tom with Countdown Watch, ticking down until we all get spears shoved up our assholes—"

With a snarl Fizzarolli seized the remote from his table and threw it at the screen, shattering it. He glared at the broken television sputtering out a final few sparks… until his door opened.

Patty peeked her head in with wide eyes. "I heard something break?"

Great. "Yeah, I just… I don't know why I just fucking did that."

She shuffled into his room more to gawk at the dead screen. "Did you throw the remote at it?"

"You use the remote to turn the TV off, don't you?!"

Patty kept staring. Then she laughed, "Oh you folks have some odd ways of doing things, I'll tell you that." Not an ounce of disdain, or fear, or even true mockery in her voice. "I'm sure we can get you another one, maintenance should have a spare around here somewhere."

"It's fine. Really. I just gotta get ready for the next show…" Fizzarolli squinted at the mirror, trying to study the frills around his neck and shoulders, inspecting them for any blemishes. Patty didn't move from where she was. He tried to ignore her. Still she remained.

"What's the matter, darling?"

He sighed. "Nothing's the matter. I'm fine."

Her eyes flitted from him to the broken TV. Then back. "I'd better clean this up here. Broken glass all over the floor…"

"It's fucking fine, I just won't go on that side of the room the rest of today."

She smiled, "It's my job to clean up messes. Need to earn my paycheck somehow, don't I? I have my cart just nearby, don't you worry about it…" Patty tottered out of the room, and was back seconds later with a small waste bin and gloves on her hands. Slowly she crouched down, picking shards from the carpet. "I really liked your show earlier today!"

"Yeah?" Great, she was going to keep talking at him. Like he didn't have enough on his mind.

"Of course I did! You've got great material. Almost as good as what I used to do," Patty grinned at her ribbing.

Fizzarolli opened his mouth to dismissively agree. Then he actually paused, looking at her in the mirror. "You used to do comedy?"

"Alllll the way back in college! I was the first female member of the Doodlebug Troupe, let me tell you, some of those boys were very scandalized to hear the way I'd talk!"

Wait a second… he turned around to face her directly. "You went to college?"

"Yes sir! Class of '75, majored in economics. That was quite the time to be in school, I'll tell you!"

His eyes looked over her again as she stood up. Thick rubber gloves covered her hands, and a black apron matched her shirt and pants, with plain shabby shoes. "Huh… so what did you do before you became a janitor?"

"For work? Lots of things!" She carried the bin over to the door, setting it down, but staying to talk. "Custodian at Disney for a couple years, washed dishes up in Portland, took care of horses in Cheyenne, I stayed there half a decade. Just some of the highlights…"

What the Hell… "You needed a college degree for all that?"

"No, not really. But I needed a college degree to get an analyst job out of school, and then another year to realize I didn't want to do that shit a day longer. Not that the boys took kindly to me anyways. I think they were afraid that I actually did my work when I was supposed to." Her grin lit up again as she snickered.

"Yeah, but then… I dunno, why didn't you…" Fizzarolli found himself blundering his way into being an asshole. Yet it didn't seem to faze Patty.

"At first I was just worried about making ends meet while I found something else. But you know what they say, nothing's more permanent than something temporary. Plus I realized doing these odd jobs, they can't make you take them home. You don't have to work on reports over a weekend when you're in a dish room, you know! My time was my own again, and I realized I wanted that more than the money, or the title."

He nodded along as she began to go on her life story, already feeling a little exasperated as she talked about some enlightenment that she'd had. "That's really great, I'm happy for you! I wish I could do the same, haha."

"Well why can't you?"

Fizzarolli shook his head with a sigh. "I just can't, okay? You wouldn't understand, it's part of being a celebrity." He turned to face the mirror again. "I can't just walk away from everyone out there."

"Oh, I wouldn't want you to. You were great out there, like I said."

"Okay, well then why did you bring up the idea then?!"

Patty paused, giving him a look. Then she pointed. "You're the one who said 'I wish I could do the same'."

Wait. He had said that. Why did he say that? Fizzarolli looked at himself in the mirror again, more closely this time. It seemed like an eternity ago he was still trying to impress Mammon and feeling like the ground was crumbling beneath his feet. This was different now, he could enjoy performing again! Ozzie had gifted him this show because he knew how much he loved being on that stage and getting to be someone that could be adored. It was a place for him to be happy. And he was happy there!

"Are you doing anything tomorrow?" Patty interrupted his thoughts, and he looked at her again from the mirror. "There's a spot outside the city that's one of my favorite places to just stop and think. Do you know where Red Rock Canyon is?"

"The big one on the other side of the dam?"

"No, no, it's much closer. And in the other direction," again a smile that showed more energy than he'd expect for her age. "I've been meaning to go there again before… you know, time runs out. If you want to get away from all of this for just a little bit, you can come with me."

The sheer absurdity of it almost made Fizzarolli laugh. "You, are inviting me for an outing?"

"Yes!" She answered with no pretense, and seemingly no awareness of how odd it was to approach him like this. For a moment he was reminded of the hundreds of fans who'd begged to spend a night with him, in every meaning of the phrase.

Yet… that didn't feel like what Patty was doing here.

Fizzarolli considered it. Fuck it, it's not like she'd be able to overpower him if this was a trap. Finally he spoke again, "What time would you be free?"

The next morning, the pair of them drove down the Strip before turning west, following the highway along the suburbs. Fizzarolli sat in the passenger seat and looked out at everyone passing by. It's how he'd seen the outside world for so long, through the window of one of Asmodeus' rides. "I'm glad you've got your license."

Patty had her hands on the wheel, "Oh, I don't."

His head snapped to her. "You said you knew how to drive!"

"I do! I didn't say I had my license. They said I was too old to keep it!"

She was laughing as Fizzarolli scrambled to actually get his seatbelt fastened. "Fuck me, what's wrong with you?!"

"What? I thought Hell didn't care about rules like that!" She only laughed harder, her aged face beaming with mischief. At the very least they did in fact survive the trip to the edge of the city, going from tight compact suburbs to scattered homes to the monotonous shrubbery of the desert, and finally the very edge of the shield. Red shimmering light divided them from the world beyond. Fizzarolli felt a wince as they approached closer, closer. As the car passed through the bubble there was a lurch… and then the way was clear.

Dark clouds hugged close to the terrain, still vaunting the power of Hell over the living world. Patty slowed and took a right at a torched gas station. They were heading into the rolling mountains now.

He felt his phone buzz. Pulling it out, Fizzarolli could see a message from Ozzie: 'U good?'

'Yeah. Going where she said. Kinda just looks like Wrath ring but bleh so far. Hope this'll b worth it.' He'd promised to keep checked in, in case there was any trouble. Ozzie had agreed though that a little day trip or something, a change of scenery, would hopefully help. Yeah, it'd be a chance to relax.

The moment he thought that, three more people messaged him almost at the same time.

He felt a wave of exhaustion. "Oh fuck…" So now he had to answer back Verosika, and Barbie Wire again, and the incubus who was opening his act tonight. Satan, he hated when this happened, getting so many different texts at the same time. And what was he even supposed to do about it, it's not like they knew they were tugging him in all different directions! He tried to desperately keep up with them, juggling the different conversations, as they wound their way further and further out of town.

Finally the car stopped. "Here we are!"

With a sigh he looked up from his screen — and to the windswept red stone hills lofting into the sky.

This was nothing like what they had in the Wrath Ring.

Patty was already out of the car, stepping her way towards a trail. Fizzarolli kept staring at the strange stone as he opened his door. He took his eyes off them just enough to message Ozzie 'We got here', and then stowed his phone away, looking back up to the sculpted peaks above him. Their bases showed a light tan, up until a dramatic russet slashed across the face of the hills.

"What do you think?" Patty gestured with both of her arms, like she was a model on a game show flaunting their grand prize. "Did you have mountains in Hell?"

"Yeah, but… not like this. It's all kinda slapped together, you know, more focused on getting space added on than making it nice to live."

Gravel softened their footsteps as they circled around the rock. The whole thing had tilted, either sliding down into the earth or breaching up from it, Fizzarolli couldn't tell. And now another peak came into view in the distance, a weathered yet regal mountain that stood prouder than the hills they had been wandering between. Despite the sheer cliffs on its face it still sported a rounded summit. It had a serene, wizened look compared to the volcanoes that scorched the Wrath Ring.

Patty pointed up to it, "I've been up there. When I first moved out here. There's a trail, you can take it all the way to the top."

He felt a creeping apprehension. "I see, is… that what you want to do today?"

"Oh no. No no, try as I might, age finally caught up to me."

"Okay good. Even with these babies," he showed off his mechanical limbs, "I'm not much of a hiker."

"How about a climber?" She turned to a large boulder nearby, gesturing at it. "You can stretch can't you?"

"Yeah, I don't think so…" Shaking his head, not even trying to hide his smirk, he did pull out his phone again just to snap a few pictures for Ozzie.

Further up the road, and Patty pulled into another stop right before a break in the mountains. "I really love this one, come on!"

This trail led down through a dried creek, the gravel turning fine and bare before reaching the other side. By this point Fizzarolli actually wanted to take in his surroundings. He looked back the way they came, there was a long gentle plain leading down from where they were. Then back up between the peaks, he could see… light.

The infernal cloud cover rolled up the hills to either side. Like waves upon a barrier it struggled to spill over the tops, only able to funnel through the narrow canyon. It churned and frayed, and beyond the edge Fizzarolli could just see the blue of the living sky, and green pines peppering the distant mountain face. It's where the desert ended.

"Over here!" Patty's voice got his attention again. The brush began to grow thick again as he approached the cliff. Then she pointed. "There they are!"

Fizzarolli scanned through the foliage. "What, what is it? What am I looking at?"

"No no, there."

Her finger gestured to the living stone — and upon it, Fizzarolli spied markings. Symbols and shapes and curves, all flaking from age.

"Petroglyphs. Hundreds of years old. Before this was the United States, before this was even Mexico, the Paiute were here. Southern Paiute. And they'd come here, because there was water and food. And they left these behind."

He tilted his head, trying to discern their meaning, but they were too abstract for that. "What's it say?"

"I don't know. Maybe they're instructions? Or directions?" She was already moving on though, along the rock face. It began to turn into an overhang, and then she paused. Handprints decorated the surface above them. Her eyes still had that shine to them as she lifted her own frail hand to the bare rock nearby and set her palm on it. "Come on, you too. Not on the prints though!"

Fizzarolli hesitated. One mechanical hand lifted though, and pressed against the stone. The pair of them stood in the shadows of centuries, mimicking so many humans who'd come before, wandering all the way across the planet across generations to leave their mark here.

The memory echoed in Fizzarolli's mind as the pair now sat on a bench overlooking the landscape. Peaks surrounded them on three sides, and the plains seemed to spill forever from them. Fizzarolli found himself almost forgetting they were right outside Las Vegas.

Patty took a deep breath beside him, before letting it out. "I'm glad you came out here with me."

"Yeah, it's… actually been really great. If I can be honest, I was kinda skeptical, I didn't even know this was here! You think of Vegas and it's all the strip clubs and casinos. You don't think of stuff like this…" A buzz from his pocket. Ozzie checking on him again. Fizarolli didn't even bother with a text message; he just took a photo of the view, and let it speak for itself. He finished sending it, and turned to find Patty smirking at him. "What?"

"I mean, I'm glad you came out here with me. I know, it must have seemed crazy for me to ask you to just take a day trip with me. You must have thought me very odd. I know that I'm odd," she was laughing at it before Fizzarolli could stammer out an excuse for himself. "But I would rather that than be boring, wouldn't you?"

She was taking all this in good humor. So he gave her a sly look, "Bitch please, you think I'd ever even think about choosing to be boring?"

An even louder laugh from her now, rolling down the valley. "No, what time I've known you, you'd never choose that!" Finally she caught her breath, stabilizing herself with a sigh. The smile never left her face. "My whole life, I've always felt like I've been outside looking in. It used to make me sad. It's why I studied economics. It's not about money after all, it's about how people make choices, it's about learning how people think. I wanted to understand. The more I learned though, the less I understood. I never met anyone, never had a family, not the way you're 'supposed to'. Then I realized something: I didn't need to understand."

Fizzarolli shifted in his seat, letting her continue talking. She began to gesture along with her words, still bright-faced.

"The moment I stopped caring that I didn't fit in… I started to fit in. The things I've done, sure it's not a career like they say you should have. But I've met so many fascinating people, seen so many beautiful places. I wrote a book. I tried painting in the nineties, made forty whole dollars doing that! Got my photo in a paper for winning a pie eating contest. I've been square dancing in Texas, met an elephant when I delivered to a zoo, sailed all the way to Alaska and Mexico working a cruise line. And if I'd kept fighting upstream, if I'd stayed in that office, how little of that would I have done?"

He nodded along. "Yeah…" Sitting here on this bench beside her, Fizzarolli felt very small at the feet of the mountains, at the mouth of the wide valley, the view growing hazy with the distance. Yet he didn't feel small in the same way Mammon had made him feel worthless, or even the same way Asmodeus made him feel protected. He felt small in a way that made him feel happily empty. In a world so vast, how could he possibly mess up in a way that'd be truly irreversible, truly catastrophic? For a moment it felt like nothing he'd ever do would matter — and it meant he could do whatever he pleased. All his anxieties had shrunk down along with him; how had he thought any of them insurmountable?

That meant he was free to really see where he was now.

Fizzarolli thought of his shows, and the joy of sparking glee in others lives. He thought of getting to come home to Ozzie's embrace. The way the light from his mane struck handsome shadows across his face when he slept. The heat from his body when Fizzarolli curled up to him. He remembered the nights when he was at his worst, tearing himself down with years of Mammon's cruelty still rooted in his mind and spilling from his own mouth. Those were the nights when Ozzie's face turned firm, and he refused to hear Fizzarolli speak any more unkindness against himself, not stopping until he managed to convince the imp of the truth that he knew yet briefly couldn't feel. More than any sex, those were the moments that Fizzarolli remembered first when he thought of Asmodeus.

"When that clock hits zero," Patty spoke again, "I know that there's a chance we all die. That there won't be anything we can do. I've been thinking about that, and you know what?"

"What?"

"If that happens, that's okay." Her eyes were glassy, "That's okay. Everything I ever truly wanted to do, I did. All that was left was to see this place again one last time. Now my life is complete. And there's nothing I regret." She paused. "Is that a strange thing to say?"

Fizzarolli's thoughts moved to the countdown clock again, Armaggeddon. Yet now, even that seemed tiny in the grand scheme of things. So he tilted his head, and offered a smirk. "No… but maybe a bit 'odd.'"

That just made her laugh again, echoing over the Mojave for miles.