Michael's eyes widened with glossy eyes as he forced open the city's gates and embraced Virgil in a hug. Lucius and Noel observed with joyous relief– Noel, with tears in his eyes. Their second-in-command, their voice of reason, and their friend was alive.

"I thought you died, Virgil," Michael whispered with a breaking voice. "I'm sorry. I should have listened to you. I'm glad you're alive."

"No worries, Michael," Virgil replied. "I forgive you. Plus..."

Various voices screamed in disbelief and anger. Michael's eyes widened no longer out of relief, but out of shock, as he felt his back be impaled and his blood slick down his legs.

"I died a long time ago."

"V-Virgil..."

"And it's your fault."

Virgil yanked the knife out of Michael's back, splattering blood across the rotting flower field and wrest free from Michael's attempts to hug him tighter before jamming it into his throat. Then, the former demon hunter swept his leader's legs while retrieving the knife from Michael's neck and pinned him to the ground with a skull penetration.

He looked down at Michael–into his eyes–as his life slipped away; disdain met the grief of betrayal.

"You... Virgil... YOU BASTARD!" Noel bellowed with feral rage.

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"You'll stay right where you are," Deimos demanded from behind the group the moment they tried advancing.

And the moment they turned to attack whoever it was behind them, they were cut down one-by-one with blades that stuck out of his arms. Lucius was the first to drop– he wasn't even able to swing. Vera and Noel were next. Bullets rang out–they grazed Deimos–before they were swiftly slashed. Then it was Miyazaki, who was able to exchange blows with his dual daggers, but ultimately succumbed to the same fate with a flurry of slices.

And when they were bleeding out on the ground, Deimos delivered words to rub salt in their wounds.

"Your efforts were in vain. You lived for nothing, and now you will die for nothing. I take pride in giving you a restless passing. This is despair."

Human blood mixed with his own stained his white attire. The blades that stuck out retracted back into his arms. Deimos turned his back to the demon hunters he'd slain and made his way towards Virgil.

Lucius was still conscious, and he felt nothing but rage in that moment; so much that couldn't think properly. Michael was dead, and the demon which took everything from him before did it again, and he was powerless to stop it now. The only thing on his mind–and has been for a while–was killing him.

He would answer for his sins. He wanted Deimos dead.

Despite his injuries, Lucius rose to his feet. Despite his blurred vision, his stare pierced through Deimos with hate. With weak arms, he hoisted his massive blade over his shoulder. Yet with a fiery spirit, he'd fight.

Lucius could only muster four words, yet he shouted them from within the pits of his soul.

"I'll kill you, Deimos!"

Deimos stopped in his tracks and looked over his shoulder towards someone he was sure he killed.

"I recognize that face. You were the boy at the church. I don't know your name, but I understand why you hate me so. It does not matter, because you will be dead soon. Truth be told, though, you are my biggest failure, for you have escaped death at my hands twice now."

Deimos then turned fully towards Lucius while breaking off a piece of his mask to reveal his other coal-colored eye of vapidity.

"And there won't be a third."