"Sing a song of the end of days. When Famine ate our home away. The crops, they died as livestock rot. The very First Blare, such was our lot"
The words of an unfamiliar song roused Cobalt from his slumber, bringing all the sensations of his body into painful focus. His eyelids were too heavy to lift, and while his arms were stretched out above his head, he couldn't feel the ground beneath his feet. His throat and chest throbbed painfully, and he could tell by his hampered breathing that his nose was most definitely broken.
"Sing a song of broken skies. Pestilence plagued us with thousand flies. Consumed the dead and gouged the live. The Second Blare buzzed like a rotten hive."
He was cold, warmed only by his own blood as it dripped across his exposed flesh. Cobalt tried to open his eyes, but they just fluttered weakly and remained shut. Somewhere around him he could hear the sound of scraping permeated with a mechanical hum.
"Sing a song of bloodied sand. War, she glassed that western land. Turned brother on son in fits of wrath. The Third Blare ended in a bloodbath."
After much straining, the Incubus managed to force one eye open, nearly blinding himself in the harsh light of a construction lamp. He felt sick to his stomach, but it refused to settle, leaving him with a flame in his belly that burned black with hate.
"Sing a song of whispered ends. I saw Death lay low my friends. His touch could break the minds of kings. The Fourth Blare, silent as butterfly wings."
When his eyes adjusted to the light, Cobalt found himself in a cold, stark basement. It looked unfinished, if the bare walls and floor were anything to go by. Construction equipment lay scattered all around, and when he tried to move, he found himself hanging by his wrists from chains anchored to lengths of sturdy rebar. Over the mechanical thrumming, he could hear the singer conclude their song.
"Sing a song of our greatest shame. Conquest bid them kill and maim. She broke us 'neath her yoke of fear. The foul Fifth Blare... we never did hear."
A deep sonorous chuckle sounded from the other end of the basement, forcing Cobalt to squint in order to focus his vision. He could see a figure with his back to him, holding the handle of a shovel as he stood in front of a cement mixer.
"That's a popular one in Damnation. Most of the folks who sing it, though... They were civilians. They were there to witness the Blares up close. Those horns... Terrifying. But beautiful, in a weird way. I almost wanted to know what the last one sounded like," the hoarse voice of Epsilon said, bracing the shovel against his shoulders.
Cobalt bared his teeth.
"Y- You...! Where's Whitney?!" he choked, struggling against his chains.
Without turning around, the Devil gestured to a shadow in the corner of the basement. He could just about make out a stained tarp, draped over a person-sized lump.
"She's not going anywhere, don't you worry. I'm just preparing a grave now. If you're lucky, you'll get to share!"
"Fuck you!" Cobalt screamed, kicking out his legs in a futile effort to attack Epsilon.
The Devil turned on his heel and stepped closer, tossing the shovel to the ground. With his coat removed, the Incubus saw that he was shirtless, and that every inch of his grey skin was marred with tiny, regularly-spaced scars. Tally marks. Noticing his bemusement, Epsilon cracked a rotten smile and ran a finger across one of his arms.
"I was thrown in a very dark hole for my crimes. But I kept count of the days, even once I ran out of flesh. Four hundred and four thousand, six hundred and ninety seven. It was enough to make me wish I was mortal," he sighed.
"I don't care about your sob stories!"
"Oh, I'm not asking for any sympathy here. I deserved every second. Perhaps more. But it gave me time to think about everything. The Rapture. The Chain. The-"
"I SAID I DON'T CARE!"
Fixing Cobalt with a blank stare, Epsilon waited patiently as he tired himself out trying to get at the Devil, nearly pulling his shoulders clean from their sockets. His entire body going limp, the Incubus breathed heavily through his broken nose like a bull, glaring at him.
"... What do you think happens after death, Trayer?" the Devil asked quietly.
"I'm not doing this with you," he spat in reply.
"I could tell you if you want. I mean, you're about to experience it, the very least I could do is give you a heads up."
Cobalt just narrowed his eyes, prompting the Devil to sigh again and run a hand through his matted hair.
"You know, you don't know how easy you have it. Mortals such as yourselves, as well as the lesser angels, humans and those other ones... you have a destination to look forward to, and a part of you will always return. But us? Those who pull the Chain onwards?"
He folded his arms and stretched his wings out wide. The webbing was badly torn, to the point of unusability.
"... Nothing. We don't know. We have theories, of course, but we still can't be sure. When a Devil dies, what happens to it? And of what few reappear again..."
He shuddered, but he had a wide grin plastered upon his face.
"It's a beautiful mystery. And I imagine whatever awaits us is a damn sight better than the lives we currently live in that dank, barbed prison," Epsilon spat, grimacing at the thought of Damnation.
"Eternal darkness or eternal torture as a Curse. There's nothing beautiful about it," spluttered the voice of Lilith, causing Cobalt to wince.
Ignoring her, he glared at Epsilon.
"What now? Just kill me and get this over with," he dared, bearing his teeth.
Raising a hand, the Devil muttered a half-remembered incantation, causing a trio of thin knives to form in his hand, each twisted in shape and formed from iron.
"Of course, of course, but I can't just yet. You see, I still need the Iron Artillery. Ergo, I need you to give up your new friend for me. I can make it quick if you do. Otherwise..."
With a flick of his wrist, Epsilon sent one of the knives careening through the air, whereupon it buried itself deep into Cobalt's shoulder. He howled in pain as a fresh deluge of blood poured down his front. The iron blade pierced between the joints, lodging itself between two bones.
"Your choice, Trayer," Epsilon said with a smile.
"Y- You can't, kid! You gotta wait for an opening!" Lilith cried.
She called him a coward, and yet there she lay, using him a shield once again. But as much has he hated kowtowing to the Devil's whims, he hated the idea of relenting to Epsilon even more. Gritting his teeth, he hissed through the pain and fixed him with a deadly glare.
"Lilith is not my friend!" Cobalt barked, his voice dripping with venom.
For some reason, the Devil began to laugh, almost doubling over upon hearing those words. He staggered back and grabbed hold of the cement mixer for support, almost collapsing into a large pit that had been dug into the floor.
"Oh, isn't that rich! Of all the titles to hide under!" he guffawed.
It took him some time to calm down. Seemingly embarrassed by his lack of decorum, Epsilon cleared his throat and straightened up, returning to Cobalt with a sardonic smile plastered across his harrowing visage. He leaned in close.
"But I'm afraid that no matter what you hide behind, you'll always be found; whether it be a malformed Incubus or a dead queen's name."
He winked.
"Isn't that right, Lady Ze-?"
Lilith burst forth from Cobalt's body and punched Epsilon square in the face, screaming the entire time. He seemed to anticipate the blow, grinning as they were both sent flying back.
"YOU SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH!" she screamed, pinning him to the floor as she slugged him in the face again.
Separated as she was from her host, however, Lilith's strikes didn't hit as hard as she intended, allowing Epsilon to easily throw her off and kick her to the side. Cobalt winced as he felt a dull pain appear in his own side.
"Finally, the little princess shows herself! I missed you, Omega!" the Devil laughed gleefully, slamming his foot down where Lilith's head had been.
She managed to roll out of the way just in time. Splaying out her hand, she formed her black iron pistol and took a shot at her opponent, but the enervation from the contract threw her aim off, much to Epsilon's amusement.
"Well, at least the Iron Artillery is still in working order!"
"Fuck you, murderer!"
More gunshots sounded off, compounded by Epsilon's incessant laughing as he avoided each and every shot. Cobalt just shut his eyes as fatigue began to claim its due. The pain he was in was excruciating, but as the Devils fought, it all faded into meaningless background noise, save one; the fire in his stomach. Before, it was a smouldering ember, waiting to burn when things looked dire. But now it burned so hot that he felt cold and hollow on the inside, like there was nothing left inside of him but that dark, hateful flame.
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This was it, wasn't it? This was how it felt to be an Incubus. Hate, pure and simple; everything else was scrubbed away.
Shock jolted Cobalt's eyes open as he heard the horrific sound of a metal chain snapping. He looked up just into time to see his right arm fall limp by his side, his bindings shattered by a stray bullet from Lilith's manic firing. Dull pain shot through his body as his left arm was dislocated, but with the other free, he weakly flailed at the remaining chain, struggling to free himself.
"It's the only way forward for us, Omega! Pandemonium is dead! Dis is dying! If we die, then we're finally free from the Chain! It's so simple; why can't you see that?!" Epsilon cried as he flung a brace of iron daggers at his old commander.
Lilith raised her arm to protect her face. A pair of knives bit into her flesh, sending spasms of stabbing pain through Cobalt's corresponding limb.
"That's coward talk!"
"Think of it like this! If you get your way, we all die a slow death! If he gets his, then we can all die a quick one! Think of it as a mercy!"
"Shut up!"
Jamming his aching fingers beneath the pinching links, the Incubus managed to loosen the chain just enough to free his arm. He crumpled to the ground in a bloodied heap, the impact pushing the knife in his shoulder deeper into his flesh. He gasped and gutter, looking up through bleary eyes at the battle taking place before him.
The Devils were going at each other, tooth and nail. Lilith was haphazardly firing her guns off in all directions, whilst Epsilon had taken up a cleaver and was trying to-
Cobalt narrowed his eyes.
That cleaver. The one he used to...
Slowly, the Incubus craned his neck around to the stained tarpaulin in the corner of the basement.
"W- Whitney..."
Digging his bony nails into the floor, he began to arduously drag himself across the floor, not caring for the chips of stone and loose nails that raked across his bare skin. It all just faded away into the background along with the battle raging behind him; the only thing the Incubus could feel was his own pounding heartbeat and his staggered breathing.
Reaching the bloodied tarp, the Incubus forced himself onto his knees and blinked his eyes clear. He could see the outline of a body beneath it, curled up in the fetal position. The tips of a set of yellow fingers jutted out from the tarp. His own hands shaking, the Incubus touched them lightly. Cold and pale.
"No..."
Reaching further beneath the tarp, Cobalt grabbed Whitney's hand. She didn't squeeze back. Her fingers remained limp, her flesh dull and lifeless. He could feel no pulse.
"Get up...!"
The Incubus squeezed her hand harder.
"Please...!"
He tugged as hard as he could.
From beneath that stinking tarpaulin, Cobalt pulled out Whitney Brode's arm. But that was all he held. The limb was pale and bloodied, roughly severed beneath the elbow by a rusted blade. Coagulated blood still oozed from the broken arteries as the Incubus shakily held it up to the light. This torn, ruined arm, with its glistening flesh and shattered, jagged bone... its delicate fingers and nails that had been carefully painted black... the same hand that held the brick she tried to save him with...
Cobalt knew what he ought to be feeling. Fear. Revulsion. Horror. Anguish.
But the longer he stared at Whitney's severed arm, the more pained his stomach grew. It ached and growled, drowning everything out but what lay right in front of him.
Licking his lips, Cobalt opened his mouth and plunged his teeth deep into his student's arm. They broke easily through the skin and penetrated the flesh beneath, filling his mouth with cold, clotted blood. It had a tang to it, and as he ripped the first chunk free and painfully swallowed it, he felt the fire swell. On his second bite he bit clean through the radius, snapping it between his teeth like that of a chicken's. He could taste the marrow hidden within; a thousand flavours that he simply did not have words for. What guilt he felt was drowned out as he messily tore into the arm, gasping for breath between every bite. His veins glowed bright and hot as his vision blurred. All around him, he could see red roses force themselves up from the basement's unfinished flooring, blooming in the corners of his vision. And still he ate, biting and chewing almost desperately. Muscle, fat, bone, marrow, cartilage, keratin...
He had never tasted something so delicious in his entire damned life.
All of the pain, weakness and exhaustion that plagued him just ebbed away in time to his heartbeat, allowing the Incubus to rise to his feet. With the last of the Nymph arm chewed and swallowed, he gave her still body one last look and turned to the Devils. They were in a deadlock, with guns and knives pointed at each other's heads.
Epsilon noticed Cobalt first with a bemused snort.
"Someone's eager," he quipped, clutching his cleaver in one hand and a collection of throwing knives in the other.
Sensing an opportunity, Lilith quickly melted away into a cloud of ferromantic magic, refusing with Cobalt and allowing further strength to return to his bones.
"Kid, you have to-"
She had such a small voice, one that did little to drown out the raging tempest in the Incubus' mind. Thoughts of rage and violence swirled in his head, intensifying his hunger and prompting him to ignore Lilith and take a step towards Epsilon.
"Alright then, it'll be a scrap. Either outcome is a win-win," Epsilon sighed, dropping low into a combat stance.
A deep itching sensation spread across Cobalt's arms, driving him to clench his fists. Teeth burst from his flesh, forming themselves into neat, scaled rows. But he could feel that, deep down, he was more in control than ever before. His muscles were writhing, his blood vessels were burning hot, his very bones were aching with the need to kill.
He clenched his fists tighter, driving his nails into his palms until they drew blood. The teeth responded, juddering and chattering as they grew and contorted. Fusing together into plates of jagged bone, they spread across his arms, binding his fingers in bony carapaces and lining his knuckles with pointed molars. His jaw clenched tight, Cobalt pounded the bony gauntlets together.
These would do.
"It's a neat trick, but I've face Incubi before, Trayer. C'mon, surprise me!"
Epsilon swiftly tossed on of his daggers at him. Cobalt's hand darted in front of his face, catching the blade between two armoured fingers. Eyes wide, the Devil smiled.
"Well... consider me surprised, then."
He stared at the knife. It was unimpressive. He could do that too.
Tossing the dagger aside, he raised his right arm and watched as the plates of bone shifted about, allowing an array of sharp blades to extrude from his flesh. Gritting his teeth, the Incubus swung his arm in an arc, causing them to snap off and fly straight towards Epsilon. He ducked and rolled as the bony shards lodged themselves in the wall behind him.
Gripping his cleaver tight, the Devil closed the distance and took a swing. In response, Cobalt raised his arms in front of his face, causing the blade to harmlessly rake off the thickened bone.
"Guard up," he murmured to himself, transfixed by the roses dancing beneath his feet.
"What the Hell are you doing?!"
"Never turn your back on an enemy."
He remembered Izzbelle's instructions. Before, he couldn't quite see how to put her advice properly into practice, but now... It felt like every cell of his body was at his command, allowing Cobalt to effortlessly block and parry Epsilon's attacks. The Devil himself looked bewildered, but he kept up the assault, baring his teeth as he swung the cleaver right at his neck.
The Incubus intercepted the blade with his teeth, biting down hard in order to halt it mid-swing. With a manic grunt, he raked his claws across Epsilon's chest, ripping through his wounded flesh and splattering blood everywhere. As the Devil staggered back, Cobalt spat the cleaver to the floor, his teeth having dented the rusted metal.
He pointed a bloodied finger at him.
"I'll kill you," he said simply in a quiet tone, his voice dripping with hatred.
He saw the Devil falter slightly, swallowing hard as he summoned more knives into his hands.
"Just try it, monster."
What followed was naught but a flurry of blood, flesh and rage. Cobalt threw himself at Epsilon, his mind burning bright as he punched, kicked, ripped and gouged, never once letting up to catch his breath or cool himself down. For every cut the Devil managed to leave on his skin, he was met with a spray of scalding blood. For every ineffectual punch that struck his gauntlets, Cobalt would rip his skin off with his teeth. Their fight drew on for countless minutes, all the while Epsilon gradually grew weaker as his opponent's wrathful strength grew.
He left countless bitemarks all over him, having torn chunks of flesh away. He bit off half of the Devil's left hand. He tore out one of his eyes. But still Epsilon fought on, undetered by thought of death. Even as Cobalt broke his arm, sunk his teeth into it, and ripped it clean off.
"GYAAAGH!"
Staggering back, the Devil held his wounded hand to the spurting stump, shaking all over as he lost more blood. Cobalt, still clutching the dismembered limb, just licked his lips. Lilith was screaming. He ignored her.
"Gah... you... you're really coming into your own now, Trayer. An Incubus among - agh - Incubi...!" Epsilon choked.
As he pulled his belt off and tried to tie off the residual limb, Cobalt messily tore into his prize, ever seeking to sate the bottomless hunger that plagued him. With every mouthful, his world grew hazier and the roses bloomed more.
"Kid, that's enough! W- We can subdue him now, just like-!"
"No."
Tossing the ragged arm aside, he ducked down low and tackled the Devil. The both fell to the floor with Cobalt pinning Epsilon down as he held his throat in one tight, bone-clad grasp. Despite his mounting wounds, Epsilon just grinned all the wider.
"W- Win-win, Trayer. Devils are a doomed people anyhow. But I guess you'd know a thing or two about that anyway, wouldn't you?" he laughed.
"Shut up."
He punched Epsilon as hard as he could. Then he punched him again. And again.
He punched him for the pain he caused him. He punched him for what he did to Whitney. He punched him for the anguish the Devils caused. He punched him for the frustration bearing down upon the Incubus. He punched him for Diate. He punched him for Lilith. He punched him for Brass. He punched him for Brimstone.
"Alright, stop!"
Again and again, Cobalt smashed his bone-covered fist into Epsilon's face. He heard flesh tear and bone crunch. It wasn't enough.
"I said stop!"
Again and again and again. A high-pitched whine filled his ears.
"Kid, that's enough!"
Again and again and again and again and again and again and-
"STOP IT, YOU MONSTER! HE'S ALREADY DEAD!" Lilith screamed as loud as she could, piercing through he cacophony of Cobalt's mind.
Cobalt froze up. His fist was reeled back, dripping with blood, bone and scraps of torn flesh. Beneath him, Epsilon's head was completely ruined; the skull caved in, the brain mashed to bits, and the face unrecognisable. Slowly, the Incubus gasped for breath, feeling the fire die down within him. His veins cooled slightly, and all around, the roses slowly faded from existence.
"H- He's fucking dead, alright?! You won! Just stop it!" the Devil in his head choked.
She sounded terrified. Cobalt had never heard her like that before.
Swallowing hard, the Incubus grabbed Epsilon's corpse and dragged him over to the pit he had dug into the floor of the basement. Dumping him into it, he tipped the cement mixer over, burying the Devil's body beneath a deluge of wet concrete. He watched the pit fill up until the mixer went dry, not daring to speak, think, or even breathe.
"You... you just..."
Reaching over for the machine, he switched it off, filling the basement with eerie silence. He could hear nothing, save for the humming of the construction lamps and quiet, staggered breathing.
Cobalt's eyes widened as he slowly looked over at the tarpaulin in the corner.
"Whitney...?" he murmured, his throat burning from the blood coating it.
He braced himself against the wall for support and grabbed the tarp, his claws easily piercing through the cheap material. He took a deep breath and pulled it away.
There she lay, curled up in a ball on the floor. One arm was wrapped around her legs, while the other... well, it was gone. Epsilon had tied off the stump to stop the bleeding, but her pale complexion and the puddle of red she lay in told him that she didn't have much time left.
She was still alive.
"She's still alive...!"
Cobalt lifted the Nymph up into his gauntleted arms, taking great care not to cut her on any protruding spurs of bone.
"I- I'm gonna get you to safety, I promise," he muttered to her, stepping around the pit of cement.
She didn't respond. Whitney's eyes were shut, and her face was twisted with pain. Shock had claimed its due a long time ago.
"If it's the last thing I do...!"
Finding a stairwell through a darkened doorway, he took a deep breath and kicked it open.
There was no time to think about anything. Epsilon's death, Whitney's dismemberment, the flesh digesting in Cobalt's stomach... She came first. He had to get her to the hospital.
If she died because of him...
He'd...