The clouds parted, and the form of my salvation was clear at last. A fleet of ornithopters hovered in the sky, countless wings buzzing to keep them airborne. Some were small as helicopters, while others were enormous, segmented dragons that glided through the sky, slicing apart the clouds to let the sun pierce through.

A host of Angels peeked out from the armada before descending from the sky, the forms of their Imagos catching the sunlight and glittering like jewels. One hundred wings and teeth and claws and blades rained upon the city, their wingbeats thrumming in perfect harmony. They came in every shape and size, bodies handcrafted, perfected for their myriad purposes. The demons recoiled, the Echoes turning back and regrouping. Some among them released terrifying roars that warped the air around them. But the angels were unfazed, approaching calmly in their insectile shells, sure of their purpose. This was more than promised.

Salvation had been ordained.

Nep landed by my side, brandishing that enormous scythe in her arms. “Seems we got here right on time.”

“You—”

She slashed through the icy bars of the cages, freeing Sarah and Heidi. “Yes. I got help from Mali, got enough to have them send a small contingent of angels to help.” Small. This was small? “And not a moment too late. I’m glad you’re all here in one place.” Noticing the chrysalis hanging from my wrist, she gave a pained smile. “Well... almost all in one piece.”

“I can take care of these ones,” she said. “And you can take on Ecto. Right, then. To arms!”

“Wait—”

“What’s wrong?” said Nep.

“Why would you leave that to me? Why didn’t you tell me any of this in advance? This was so much to leave to me and yet—”

“Shh.” She pressed her armoured fingers to my nonexistent lips. “Because you are made for this, Quinn. It’s your purpose now. How any of this works at all is still a mystery. All we can do is trust in the purposes we have.” She put her other hand on my chest. “You feel it, don’t you? This is right. This is what you were meant to do. Now go.” She and the others turned and raced down the stairs. I had to admit, I felt... something. Nibbling at the edge of my mind, a primal urge that I needed to go to him. Needed to destroy him.

Above, the clouds began to darken once again. I looked and saw him at last: Ecto. He’d returned to his mount, the mammoth Echo rearing, calling the storm to return once again. The pigeons still swarmed around him, some segments breaking off from the billowing flock to harry the descending angels, but the majority staying by his side. The other demons and creatures were distracted, sure, but unless somebody took him on.

“Your opportunity is there.” Vespa? The hornet landed on my shoulder, nuzzling my neck. “Take it.” My eyes locked with Thea’s for a moment, even in all the commotion. She nodded, eyeing me wistfully before vanishing into the crowd. I turned away.

I looked ahead and set my sights on Ecto.

The light restored, my body regained its strength quickly. My wings shuddered, muscles warming up, then roaring to life as I soared into the sky. “If given the opportunity, the storm will come again. The armada doesn’t have enough ships to stop it entirely, only disrupt it temporarily. You need to end it by ending its source.”

I needed to kill Ecto. Though Thea’s fears still bounced around in my head, I had to push them away. Because if I didn’t, who knew what would happen. I needed to focus. My consciousness began to melt into my body, only instinct and memory guiding me forward.

Eyeing my approach, Ecto’s mount steadied itself, running... towards the edge? It ran away from me, towards the precipice that overlooked the whole city. Surely it wasn’t going to—

It did.

The Echo jumped off the edge, plummeting towards the earth below, only to be caught by the enormous cloud of birds that swarmed around it and Ecto both, entombing them within a swirling mass of black feathers. I kept on its tail as it slowly drifted away from city hall, sending small parties of pigeons to harass me. Whatever was sent my way quickly became inanimate rock and glass and ichor, the glaive in my hands moving as naturally as my wingbeats. Though I understood now the feeling so much better. It was this body was made for. Quickly, the squadrons of pigeons stopped, the ball of Echoes simply speeding up as it raced further and further from the city center.

I was caught almost by surprised when it stopped and reversed, a wall of birds sent my way as the remainder of the flock helped Ecto and his mount down to the frozen streets.

“He’s going to refresh the storm,” said Vespa. I needed to get down there. The storm of pigeons just battered their bodies against me, forming a wall of raw, persistent force, making it hard to swing my blade. But slowly, I was able to drag my blade through, cutting their bodies away, making more air, gaining momentum as I cleared more space, whirling and slicing through the flock until the way was clear and I could descend before him.

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He seemed distracted by the Echo, the mammoth that seemed to be channelling the power of the blizzard. He struck the creature’s skin a few times, shouting at it, hitting it hard enough that flakes of rock crumbled off and ichor leaked from its sides. Soon, its tusks glowed icy-blue again, frigid air emanating from its location and whistling across the whole city. So close to the source, my wings froze and cracked, falling and shattering on the ice. But still I approached. Clawed feet gripped the ice with each step, sluggish muscles still holding steady.

Ecto crossed his arms and laughed. “Look at you. So persistent, Quinn. It’s almost cute. But look, you’ve failed. You’ve brought all these other angels here into my cold embrace. It’s perfect, really.”

“Don’t worry. You are made for this.”

The Echo turned to face me. From so close, it seemed even greater in size, lifting its enormous trunk to crush me like the insect that I was. I tried to move, but my pneumatic muscles were locked up, my body surrounded by the ice and snow and the tusks that were even colder than that. I tried to raise my glaive to intercept its strike, but I knew it would be too slow. Think, Quinn. Think.

“Don’t worry.”

The impact never came. Instead, the tip of the trunk fell into the snow behind me, severed. I was drenched in a shower of ichor, the scalding liquid filling the air with steam. The heat let me move again, repositioning. I saw my saviour land beside me. “Sarah.”

“Yeah, we’re technically not supposed to be here.” Heidi landed on my other side. “But Nep has way more confidence in this whole ‘biological purpose’ thing than I do. It may not be my job, but who can question the results?” She hacked away at the Echo’s forelimbs with her hammer, knocking off huge chunks of rock and flesh, bringing the thing to its knees.

Sarah glided with ease around the creature, swinging her oversized scissors to cut large gashes in its sides, catching the sprays of molten ichor as they gushed out to maintain her Imago’s body temperature. In moments, the enormous Echo lay harmless in the snow. In moments, He was backed against a wall, in the alley. The birds, remained, still perched on his shoulder. He hadn’t intervened with them at all here. Why?

“You know, I’d feel bad killing you,” I said.

“Is that so?” He smiled.

“But I don’t think Heidi will.”

If she had ability, the eyes inset in her Imago would have lit up at those words. “With pleasure.” She held the hammer in both hands with all the excitement of a toddler with a new toy to play with. She swung, the hammer smashing bricks behind him, but the blow itself deflected by those pesky, pesky pigeons. They swarmed violently around him, preventing Heidi from landing any strike, as much as she channelled her rage and might.

“What’s going on?” Sarah approached the end of the alley, swinging her scissors at him while sliding her other arm forward, a shearing motion that should’ve detached his head cleanly from his body. But the pigeons blocked that as well, slick, oily-black feathers jamming the blades and sending the strike harmlessly into the air.

Ecto smiled. “It’s pointless, see?”

“You aren’t running,” I said.

“W-why should I run?” he said. “I... have nothing to fear.”

Such inconsistency. He ran, and then he gloated, he was weak, and he was invulnerable. And the pigeons... Hold on. “You’re not in control, are you?”

“Why of course, I’m only first-sphere. There are so many greater spheres of demons waiting their turn, biding their time. I’m here to start the end, the harbinger of—”

“That’s not what I mean.”

His eyes widened. “Then...”

“Do the pigeons listen to you?” I asked. I hadn’t seriously though of it before, but the look on his face told me everything. I levelled my glaive in front of his chest. I see. I would kill him. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to. Because only I could do it. Because... he wouldn’t stop me. Well, he couldn’t stop anything. No, it was... who was it?

I thrust it cleanly into his chest. No interference. It was that easy. Whoever controlled the pigeons wanted it to be me. Forced it to be me.

The pigeons immediately scattered, flying away. “Messenger!” he cried, but they did not listen. The Echo was not his servant, after all. “Help! Help me!” he screamed, writhing in the snow. How pitiful. Just moments ago, he’d been gloating, and now...

What was that noise?

“Help me!” He grabbed the shaft of my glaive with both hands, pulling the blade deeper into his chest.

The sky had cleared, the snow dissolving away with supernatural speed. It was as if the storm had never happened. His crystal must have been smashed, but who’d done that? Had one of us? He wasn’t even dead yet!

“Let go!” I tugged my blade, but he let it go out a bit before pulling it back into his chest forcing the blade in and out, multiple times. He cried out, bone-curdling, gurgling screams. Cries that weren’t meant to be heard by demons? I turned.

Behind us was a crowd of people, staring in shock. So many people. What had happened to the hiding and panicking? The overturned cars? The frosted windows? Too late for that now. Their phones were out, cameras pointed at us, taking pictures and video. As we... as I... looked like I was stabbing a helpless young man. With one final, almost triumphant wail, Ecto finally stopped moving. I pulled my blade out of his chest, triggering a round of gasps and exclamations of shock from the people watching rapt. This was... not a good look, was it? The conspiracy theorists would have a field day with this footage.

Hurriedly, we took off, heading up above the clouds to where the armada now floated quietly. It was over. But somehow, I felt like we’d lost.