On the train, both Grey and Edward felt the air change as if they had passed from a room containing fresh air to a stagnant room filled with rotting trash and decay. Instantly moving, Grey stood up and slammed his head against the window so that he could try to peer down the length of the train to see what was ahead. While at the same time, Edward used his unique magic to summon his cards back to him, ripping them out of the grasp of the others he had been playing with.

Seeing both Grey and Edward react to something, both Aleister and Jane also readied themselves while clearly clueless about what was to come. Yet the two of them were not the only ones that responded to Grey’s behaviour.

Sitting randomly throughout the train carriage were both military personal and alchemists. The former had been assigned to the train as security and as support for the God Squad should the unexpected occur. While the alchemists, who had been involved in the creation of the train and the new system of propulsion, were accompanying the train to ensure that it function at its optimum and so they could repair it should it somehow be damaged. Standing, the various different military soldiers began actively waiting stoically in their uniforms of red and silver for the threat to manifest itself, while at the same time comforting the civilians who had realised that something horrible had happened and were trying to find shelter from the unknown danger that they could feel in the air.

Drawing her staff close to herself, Jane stepped out into the walkway of the carriage and looked about, searching through both mystically and mundane senses to find the threat when she felt her mirror begin to pulse with mana signalling that someone was attempting to connect and communicate with her. Pulling the mirror out, Jane looked and found that Rin Hono was calling. Grimacing in dread, Jane tapped the mirror and allowed the connection between the two mirrors to stabilize and synchronise. Watching as the mirror revealed the image of Rin, Argon, Ivan and Medea, all of who were standing together in one of the surveillance halls, a hall filled with milling confusion and panic at the problems that had arisen, Jane knew then that the situation was worse than what she had expected.

“How bad?” asked Jane, her voice steeled and tempered as if she already knew.

Instead of Rin answering Jane, Ivan did.

“The entire population of the town of Symir appears to have been rendered soulless,” said Ivan with a dead calm, as if the notion of an entire town being reduced to soulless husks was something he had dealt with many, many times.

Hearing Ivan speak, Grey, who had his face pressed up against the window, spun around and stalked over to the rest of his team to peer down at the magic mirror.

“We have observed that the town of Symir has likely been stripped of their souls,” said Ivan as he addressed the God Squad with his normal, cold monotone, all the while filling them in on what had been observed by the Mirror Wards.

“Its demons,” said Grey with hatred blurring his voice into something almost demonic. “I can taste it in the air. And if you are correct then we have a problem of unimaginable peril.”

“How so?” asked one of the military officers seated across from the God Squad, a woman adorned in the red and silver of the Western Army, her rank revealed by the insignia on her lapels.

Glancing at the captain, Grey’s eyes seemed to bleed madness into the rest of his face as he looked the woman up and down before he focused on the name etched onto her uniform.

“Captain Lau, the fact that until a few moments ago no one knew that the town had fallen to a demon means we are dealing with one who prizes intelligence and cunning over strength. Yet at the same time, this demon was able to infiltrate a holy place and corrupt everything including an Arthurian Church,” said Grey as he seemed to advance on the captain, who stood her ground, not caring that her name meant she was related to the noble lords of the same name. “What that means we are dealing with is either a king of Hell or perhaps a compound demon. And most importantly, it means that the souls of those that lived in that city are now wallowing in the depths of Hell, where their souls are being twisted until they break beyond restoration. Where they will become the seeds for new demons, while what is not used will forever fuse with the walls of Hell itself.”

“Grey,” snapped Jane as she cut into Grey’s monologue, not only to spare the captain, who had been unfazed, and now clearly was terrified of Grey, but also to spare the others in earshot of having to listen to the raving madman.

“What do we face?” asked the Captain after Grey stopped and looked at Jane with clouded eyes as if in his rage and madness he couldn’t recognise Jane.

“From what I can gather from this feeling in the air,” said Edward uncertainly, his voice still being generated from magic. “The demon has corrupted and marked the very earth itself. Only a Demon of Faith can do that and only one powerful enough to be considered equal to the King of the Fifth Hell.”

“Agreed,” said Ivan through the mirror still in Jane’s hand. “We’ve sent word to the paladins, but considering that one of their churches just went dark, they probably already know. Captain Lau take control over all military personal on the train. Prioritise the protection of the train, civilians and the God Squad in that order. We’ll send reinforcements as soon as possible.”

“Understood, sir,” said Captain Lau as she saluted to the image of her general, who saluted back before glancing back at Rin who in turn nodded his head at Jane. Everything about him screamed worry for the child he had saved 24 years ago.

“Captain Lau, during the battle take orders from Grey Silverman. He’s dealt with these kind of things before, haven’t you,” said Ivan as he looked from Lau to Silverman with a cold calculating glint in his eyes.

Raising an eyebrow, Grey seemed to snort in disgust and shifted away from the gathering, his mad gaze fixed on the window before his head snapped up to look above him, his face filled with a haunting madness. Engaging telesma into his pauldrons, Grey created a swirl of telesma before he disappeared, only for a loud and echoing thud to sound from the roof. A sound which told everyone in the carriage, that he had teleported onto the roof of the train. At the same time, Rin terminated the connection between the mirrors and left Jane looking at the blank mirror in her hand as she stoked her will, knowing from experience that she was going to end up burning everything to nothingness.

Having remained quiet throughout the entire conversation, Aleister stepped up and started to take control.

“Captain, you have your orders, we’ll relay everything that we can to you,” said Aleister and instead of responding Lau saluted before she went off to talk to the other ranking officers onboard the train.

Watching the captain move off to rally those aboard for a full on demonic assault, Aleister began to suspect that this had been Ivan’s plan all along, to send them here to destroy the demonic infestation without releasing control of the land to either of the bishops, Duncan MacLean or Thomas Bluebeard.

“Edward, send Jane up,” said Aleister to his brother, his voice ringing with command and authority.

Nodding to his brother, Edward sent the cards that he had secreted on his person swirling around until they had created a six pointed star on the roof of the carriage, purple energy flowing between each of the cards which sat at every intersecting line and point of the star.

Stepping under the star, Edward began to speak.

“Angel of the black and white wing, Azazel of the Watchers, grant me the power of the enchanted eye, grant me the ethereal, the intangible and close the lid of reality,” said Edward with his magical voice while an eye symbol appeared in the centre of the six pointed star, causing the metal it was attached to, to ripple like it was made from water or jelly.

Understanding what Edward had done, Jane spun mana down into her feet and kicked off from the ground, sparks of flames leaping out from her legs as she plunged upwards before sliding through the roof with no sense of resistance whatsoever. Coming to stand atop the train, Jane used mana to anchor herself to the top of the train while further ahead, Grey stood looking forward with a gaze filled with rage, madness and a hunger to bring blood and death to his infernal enemies.

Realising that Grey had yet to even register her presence, Jane walked forward to stand next to the Mad Paladin, all the while fire started to pour out of her skin. As Jane came to stand next to Grey wreathed in crimson fire, she shared a concerned glance with Grey at the encroaching decay and darkness. Focusing forwards, the two warriors could see the town of Symir and the radiant darkness that seemed to dance upwards from the corrupted and Marked Earth.

“What are we in for?” asked Jane as she watched the radiant darkness spread across the land while strands of corruption seemed to leak upwards to fill the sky with twisted dark clouds that created a dark dominion that consumed the entire town of Symir.

“What you told us about that necromancer,” said Grey with sorrow lacing throughout his entire being. “Be prepared to do that again on a much larger scale.”

Closing her eyes at the memory, Jane’s fire seemed to snarl as it wrapped around her becoming denser and darker so that it almost obscured her entire body.

“Don’t worry, only dust will remain when I’m finished,” said Jane, her voice even and tempered, a cold flame to balance out her own incendiary nature.

“You’ve faced demons before?” asked Grey as he scanned around for any possible threat.

“Only demons of the First and Second Levels,” said Jane in response.

“So only Demons of Earth and Life then,” said Grey with a small amount of amusement leaking into his voice. “How did you fair against those that were aligned with flame?”

“I know how to extinguish a flame just as easily as I can create one,” said Jane as her voice distorted at the memory of the possessed flame she had met long ago and how it had offended her with its twisted corrupt fire.

Not bothering to pursue the comment, Grey returned his attention to the upcoming foulness that propagated across the rotten and decaying earth. Seeing the blighted and dead earth seem to consume the fields of grass and what should have been wheat fields, Grey’s jaw seemed in danger of breaking his teeth as he remembered what had become of his home town. Even as he felt a swell of dark emotion, Grey realised as he looked around with increasing erratic frenzy, that something was terribly wrong. Drawing his sword and activating every function he could, Grey’s armour filled with golden radiance that made the air that swirled in the sky lazily shy away as if the very light itself had caused the wind to be distorted.

“What?” queried Jane as she twisted the flame wrapped around her into something that could resemble either a bow or a sword.

“They’ve Marked the earth all around the town,” said Grey as he shifted into a combat stance, his voice, face and body language filled with nothing but caution and wariness.

“So,” said Jane, not realising the severity behind Grey’s words.

“Only a Demon of Faith can Mark the earth, but then why despite the corruption to reality are there no other demons? Where are the hordes of demons that usually pour out? Where are the Demons of Earth, the Golems and Firebirds? Where are the Demons of Life, the Treants and Hellhounds? Even if I believe that the demon here uses necromancy to control the soulless dead, I still don’t accept that not one other demon would possess something here whether living or dead, whether organic or inanimate. What’s really going on here?” asked Grey, as something resembling sanity and reason seemed to spread across Grey’s visage.

Seeing Grey’s change and the undertones of concern that filled him, Jane narrowed her eyes as she looked at the town shrouded in darkness ahead of her. And as Jane asked a single question, Grey’s eyes widened in realisation about what was to come, the golden light of his armour making his face ghastly to look upon as it changed from one expression to another.

“What kind of demon is in that town?”

Back inside the carriage, the moment that Edward was sure that Jane had phased through the roof, he sent his cards spiralling upward flowing like a fountain. Dancing through the air the cards spun about before binding themselves all over the outside of the train, with each card face down so that the rear side of each card was exposed outwards, each side marked with an eight pointed star. And as the cards were bound to the train, they created an anti-demon barrier which would prevent demons from entering the train, well those that were weaker than Edward.

Watching his brother work, Aleister turned to his own strategies and began to summon forth telesma. Drawing the telesma that naturally welled up from inside himself out into the world, Aleister spun the golden liquid into fibre-like threads before he started to fashion them into guns, one for each hand. Condensing the telesma’s mass until the telesma reached a singularity where its own power was enough to make it adhere to itself and prevent it from dissipating into the atmosphere, Aleister was able to make golden matter that would remain untarnished by even time.

Gripping the two handguns, Aleister inspected his handiwork to make sure that the telesma was stable. He knew that if the telesma was not fashioned properly or contained enough mass, then the telesma would unravel and dissolve into the air. And once dissolved, the telesma would float away into the sky as if it was trying to return to Heaven, the place where most telesma was created from. Satisfied with his work, Aleister quickly shared a silent communication with his brother, before pointing his guns to either side so that one gun was pointed both north and south. Edward had made a secret alteration to the train. When he had set up the barrier that surrounded the train, he had made every window in the carriage ethereal. A non-corporeal wall of metal and alchemic steel, that Aleister would now be able to shoot through without risking damaging the train.

Shifting his aim around, Aleister aimed north and south for a simple reason. While the town of Symir was north of the golden road that stretched west of Albion, with the only section of the town that actually touched the town being the train station, the truth of the matter was that Aleister suspected that while those on the train were dealing with the enemies to the north, demons would arise from the south and attack them from behind.

“Ho, so that’s telesma,” said the Alchemist to Aleister’s left side as she peered at the gun that Aleister had pointed to the south. “I can really see why Aizen was so interested in this substance,” added the Alchemist as she tried to poke the gun to see how it would react.

Feeling Aleister gaze upon her, the alchemist waved in apology at the gunslinger as she pulled back.

“Sorry I got a bit carried away there,” said the Alchemist as she continued to wave her gauntleted and geared hand in apology.

Focusing in on the Shaping Gear that the alchemist was wearing, Aleister spoke to the woman before him, an alchemist powerful and skilled enough to wield the main device that the Alchemist Guild used to reshape and transmute matter into whatever their wielder wished or desired.

“No problem, but I suggest that if you’re going to fight, then you get ready and not fawn over this trifle of a thing, alchemist…. ,” said Aleister as he shook his left hand and the telesma gun, while leaving the sentence unfinished so that he would hopefully get an answer.

“Miriam,” said the Alchemist as she smiled at Aleister, a smile that made Aleister want to flinch back from the sheer intensity of the will behind the gaze.

“Truthfully, I won’t be of help during the battle,” said Miriam as she gave Aleister a sad smile before brightening up, “unfortunately I only brought this along to help fix the train and the AEM engine that makes it float. Did you know that I was the one that invented the system that allowed it to carry such a huge load and enable the engine to travel at such high velocities?”

“No,” said Aleister with a finality to it that ended the conversation, as he quickly checked that no demons were approaching either from the north or south.

“So what are we in for?” asked Miriam as she looked out the window at the encroaching blighted and dead land.

“You’ve never seen or heard of a demon?” asked Aleister in shock as he shifted out of his combat stance to stare at the alchemist before him as if she were the strangest thing he had ever seen. “How?”

“I’m an alchemist, we focus on, well, alchemy and reality,” said Miriam with a smile. “Why would I need to know in-depth knowledge about demons, when all I really need to know is that you never listen to a Demon of Faith nor make deals with a Demon of Sin.”

“There’s a bit lacking from what you just said,” replied Aleister, still shocked at the fact there were people that didn’t know about demons especially when those that lived in the Empire of Geb were all educated in the history of Heaven, Hell and the seraphim.

“I can explain it in detail if you want,” offered Aleister as he shared an incredulous glance with his brother, the two of them finding it extremely odd that Miriam didn’t know about demons.

“We’d also like to hear that, if possible,” said Captain Lau as she returned from her previous task, with several other officers trailing after her, ranked from lieutenants through to corporals.

Hearing this request, and realising that they too knew nothing of demons, Aleister checked in on his brother to make sure that no enemies were approaching and found that Edward was focused on the protection of the train and at the same time intently suppressing his desire to go over to the plump alchemist and find out more about the Shaping Gear.Walking over to his brother so that he could speak to the entire carriage of people, Aleister influenced by his brother’s interest and excitement made a quick study of the Shaping Gear on the right hand of Miriam.

It was made of brown leather with bronze metal adorning it. The bronze capped off each finger and had a node of bronze at each joint. On the back of the hand was a bronze gear that had a red philosopher stone embedded in its centre, a gear that was slowly rotating aimlessly. While along the sleave of the gauntlet, from wrist to elbow, there were dozens of little bronze gears each and every one spinning at the same speed as the one embedded on the back of the hand. Knowing that somehow the gauntlet allowed alchemic energy to be channelled and to transmute matter, Aleister was weary of the contraption and as he turned his mind to the explanation he had to give, he put the geared glove out of his mind.

“After the Heaven War, when angel fought angel, Lucifer was cast out of Heaven along with all the seraphs that fought alongside him. They fell down to the deepest part of the Abyss where they created a nine layered pit of pain and horror that they named Hell. Lucifer resides within the ninth layer or the ninth circle depending on what you call it, while each layer above him contains weaker and weaker beings. The nine layers are as follows from the top to the bottom where Lucifer dwells: Earth, Life, Sin, War, Faith, Light-,” said Aleister only to be interrupted when Miriam with the petulance of a child blew a raspberry at Aleister.

Blinking at the unexpected, Aleister and Edward both turned to look at the alchemist who had a look of extreme boredom plastered all across her face.

“It’s a nice sermon and history lesson, but it’s not what we’re after,” said Miriam as she shook her head as if expressing disappointment with a naughty student.

“I thought alchemists like you say and think that charting the history of the evolution of alchemy is just as important as the current most theories,” snapped Aleister who had trouble dealing with the woman before him.

“True and normally I would listen to it and perhaps even explore it even more deeply, but that’s not what we need now,” said Miriam as she shifted from her impression of a moody teenager to the alchemist who had created a revolution in the technology of flight.

“What we need are facts and figures, rules and patterns. What are the abilities and skills of a Demon of Faith? And most importantly what are their weaknesses?” said Miriam as she moved from her seat to stand before Aleister who seemed taken aback at the sudden shift in her personality.

“What I tell you might be different to what you find,” said Aleister more as a way to test Miriam than because he believed that the demon would be so vastly different to the standard.

“Then we know that we’re dealing with an irregular. We are soldiers,” said Miriam as she waved back at the soldiers behind her, “and we need knowledge to fight both efficiently and with unity unlike the church’s paladins who fight with the motto ‘every paladin for themselves’.”

“That’s not their motto,” said Aleister dryly as he frowned at Miriam, but in the back of his mind, Aleister understood what she was saying, and more importantly what she wanted.

“Demons of Faith like to possess those in positions of authority, usually those of religious alignment, whether to Heaven or the pagan gods, it doesn’t matter. All so that they can corrupt the faith that people have in these organisations and if possible lead those that retain faith into Hell,” said Aleister, the disgust plain for all to see, a sentiment that everyone present could understand. “They are the strongest demons that can possess an entity here in this world without causing their vessel to degrade, they can also for the very elite amongst them crawl through their vessels to manifest themselves here physically although that is very rare. They possess two distinct abilities that set them apart from their fellow demons, hellmist and corruption,” said Aleister as if he was reciting from a textbook. “Like all demons they are hurt by the effects of the water element which is said to be infused life energies, although for Demons of Faith only holy water will affect them, therefore only water infused with telesma or celestial energy.

Pausing, Aleister looked at those assembled to note whether they were actually listening and understanding what he was saying. Yet as Aleister studied those before him, he was shocked to see that some were even taking notes, while others nodded their heads as if the explanation was reminding them of things that they had already learned and forgotten long ago. Seeing Miriam raise an eyebrow and smile in amusement, Aleister could see she had seen through his stony façade and realised he had been shocked at the way the military personal before him were actually listening.

“Hellmist is the creation of mist that as the name implies is a literal manifestation of Hell’s inherent nature. This mist is limited to the Kings of Hell, the rulers of each circle and the Demons of Faith and higher. While corruption is the very ability to degrade reality to allow for other demons to possess degraded vessels, the Marked Earth you see out the windows is a prime ability of a Demon of Faith,” said Aleister as if he were a tour guide while gesturing out the window at the Marked Earth.

Raising her hand, Miriam waited for Aleister to acknowledge her before asking a question that made Aleister feel as if he had been plunged into sub-zero water.

“If Marked Earth creates the means for more demons to possess things that dwell here in this world then why aren’t there more demons outside?”

Hearing this simple question, both Aleister and Edward immediately shared a single thought, one that seemed to originate in parallel from both of their minds. Focusing quickly, Edward used the barrier around the train as a sensor to determine if there were any other demons present. Yet the results were anything but comforting as they only returned that a single Demon of Faith dwelt in the city of Symir.

Seeing both of the Maw Brothers silently communicate, Captain Lau issued orders to go and distribute the knowledge that Aleister had imparted and to warn others to be prepared for an irregular demon, having guessed that Aleister’s horrified silence meant the worst possible scenario.

“Let me talk to Grey,” said Aleister silently to his brother, only to find that Edward was already contacting the Mad Paladin.

“Grey we have a problem. Return to the carriage. This isn’t a problem that we can face without a plan,” said Aleister to a purple glowing card that his brother had handed to him, while the cards that controlled the barrier beneath Grey’s feet were also glowing with the same power.

“The problem is that this floating metal box is taking far too long to get to Symir,” said Grey, his voice manifesting for those around Aleister to hear, which in turn caused Miriam to glare at the card in Aleister’s hand as she heard Grey’s opinion on the train she had helped build.

“No, there’s one single demon in Symir. I think that it’s-”

“Ulkry; the King of Faith, the ruler of the fifth circle of Hell, the demon that has said to have corrupted gods, broken saints and forged the fifth circle of hell into what it is today,” said Grey with a hunger in his voice, one that made Aleister and Edward recoil at the hate and blood lust Grey possessed.

Hearing Grey’s response, Edward quickly summoned four cards out, two for each hand to create his purple swords wrought from the prana. Each sword was created by having the ace of swords touch face to face with the card the four of diamonds, with the four diamonds creating a natural self contained circle, while the ace of swords forged the single sided blade.

Seeing his brother ready himself for battle, Aleister felt a swirl of emotions that all came down to the horror of what was to occur in this single small town. All the while in the back of his head, he was aware that Edward was telling Jane to report to Ivan what was happening.

A report that would no doubt be similar to the ones that Aleister had seen before when working alongside his seraphim brethren, reports of horror and terror and the loss of all hope. A report that simply boiled down to a single sentence that would have everyone in the empire take notice and start to scurry to find and defeat the tragedy that would occur before Aleister’s eyes.

That a demon king resided in Symir.

Standing atop the steeple of his church, or more precisely the church that belonged to the body he currently wore, Ulkry the King of Faith, watched the approach of the train. And as Ulkry watched the train, he refused to turn his gaze skyward to the being that had disrupted his plans and exposed what had occurred here. He refused to look up at the God Ymir who had come seeking his creation, his seal, his tear, his God Relic.

Ulkry was ancient in a way that was hard to define, for while Hell was rarely synchronised temporally with the world of Geb, Ulkry had been born from the rotted and tortured, the putrid and pulped mass of souls condemned to the fifth circle of Hell, which made his exact age hard to pinpoint. And this very strange form of ancientness made Ulkry none too fussed about his plans being overturned by the unexpected. For as he now carefully surveyed Ymir above, Ulkry was aware that the pagan god’s attention was drawn to the train that was steadily speeding towards the town. Contemplating why the God of Heroes as he had deemed to call himself was watching the train, Ulkry’s mind spun out endless plans for what could come next and how to turn the situation into something that would continue the work he had been doing here.

At first glance, the train was nothing but on a second look, it was clear that the train had been made as an alchemic effigy to show case the power of alchemy as well as reinforce the faith that mankind had in science. Yet the King of Faith, the current King of the Fifth Hell hadn’t become the king of such a dark and twisted realm through negligence. Ulkry could see that the train was contained and encased in a magical barrier that made demonic intrusion problematic, a barrier that had been wrought from an energy that was shockingly familiar and yet confusingly alien. An energy, a power, a magic that made Ulkry yearn for it, desire it, want to touch it, and in the end, tear it down and destroy it.

Beyond the barrier’s shielding stood two different humans, one sweating fire, the other encased in telesma infused armour, both radiating a patch work of emotions that Ulkry found enticing, both for their brilliance and for their tragedy. As the train stopped in the station, the demon could all but see the alchemic energy dissipate and die as it turned off, the floating mass of alchemic energy slowly lowering to land on the tracks below. From its vantage point, the demon, housed in the flesh of a man, could see the train with a perfect clarity. A clarity that allowed the demon to judge with certainty that those inside were aware of the nature of the town that they were stopping at, and that they were ready to retaliate at the first sign of aggression.

Feeling rather apathetic, Ulkry waited to see what had caught the eyes of the God of Heroes for while the two who stood atop the train were indeed noteworthy, they were in the great scheme of things irrelevant and transient motes of nothingness that time would destroy. Ulkry waited to see what else would emerge from the train. What had captured the attention of a whimsical and fickle god?

Ulkry didn’t have to wait long after everything had been secured and with the signs of no imminent attack, two beings, two entities emerged from the train. Both of them, causing the demon to stop breathing in awe, for what Ulkry saw in them were a whole realm of new possibilities. In their current alignment, Ulkry could see that they would enable the war between Heaven and Hell to shift to Heaven’s side and perhaps even break and damage Hell itself. Yet if they were turned to the side of Hell, well Heaven’s light would diminish and its days would be numbered. Seeing the paladin and the mage jump down to stand beside the two demonspawn, Ulkry knew in that moment what Ymir had seen in the train to draw his undivided attention.

The four of them united were something to behold.

For they formed a union of what upheld the Arthurian Empire, a symbol of a united empire, an empire that would stand till the end of time and a symbol of faith that was rising to inspire all those that lived and served the Empire of Geb. Ulkry wanted nothing more than to corrupt them, to tear them down and break the souls and the spirit of everyone that had placed their hope in these heroes. It was a feeling that he had not had in a long time, not since the end of the Second War of the Gods when only seven pagan gods had remained active. It was a sensation that whispered in Ulkry’s mind, whenever he saw a pure and unbroken temple or church.

The four started to move towards the closest of Ulkry’s soulless comrades, each radiating a form of emotion interwoven with determination that made Ulkry wish to see what they would do next, even as they began to hack apart the soulless man. Knowing that they knew about what he had done to the residents of the town, Ulkry also realised that with the right co-ordination and a little bit of melodrama the four potential heroes could end up completing his plans without Ulkry having to lift a single, possessed finger.

Relishing what was to come next, Ulkry smiled up at the pagan god above, his smile a challenge to all that the god represented, a challenge that the god accepted when he refused to smite one of the Kings of Hell. Realising that the pagan god atop his cloud had agreed and wasn’t here because of the God Relic, he had created oh so long ago, Ulkry truly smiled, a smile that forced the face of his host beyond the limits of human flesh. A smile that stretched and twisted the face of the fatherly and kind face that had belonged to the man that had shepherded the good people of Symir into something that could act as a prelude to the horrors of Hell. A smile that caused the edges of the cleric’s mouth to stretch back to his wisdom teeth, while a wet ripping, tearing sound could be heard from the distorted flesh.

Waving his hand, the assembled mass of soulless humans that did his bidding dropped their mundane and boring tasks to launch a suicidal attack on those that dared to step foot in their master’s territory. All the while, Ulkry smiled cruelly as he went back inside the fallen church to wait for a hero to come to him, planning even as he went how to tear them down so that the faith the pagan god had placed in them would wilt and wither.

Stepping into the church, Ulkry drew forth the hellmist and turned to wait for the doors to open, all the while Ulkry kept a close tab on the God Relic that sat atop the altar of the church.The God Relic was a golden cross, perfectly symmetrical with golden spikes at 45 degree angles between the arms of the cross and a single blue crystal at the centre. A tear made by a god and one that used the power of Ymir, God of Heroes and Ithuriel, the Archangel of Magic to prevent new pagan gods from rising, at least upon the world of Geb.

A God Relic that housed a small sliver of the pagan god’s soul, one of sixteen that prevented more pagan gods from rising. Something that both Heaven and Hell wanted locked away safe and secure, after all neither Heaven nor Hell wanted more pagan gods to be born, nor for them to grant the power of reincarnation to anyone else.

Admiring the God Relic that prevents more pagan gods from being born upon this world, Ulkry silently planned to corrupt and break the heroes outside. Even as the King of Faith watched the golden cross before him, the silver raven up amongst the clouds perched near Ymir in turn watched the Demon King. For in the Reaper’s Palace, the afterlife location where the gods that had died went in death, a certain trickster god, the same that had made the Twin Ravens of Thought and Memory, also saw everything that the raven did.

Laughing to himself, the trickster god who had made so many monsters and had woven schemes that had altered the course of history, wondered if he should escape his prison, this world made by Death itself and return to the worlds of the living to once again turn history’s course. For it seemed that the God Squad would indeed turn the world on its head and defy the rules that were said to be predestined and inescapable, even without his help.

Musing to himself in silence, the trickster sent his mind spinning across the vast yet faulty wall that separated life and death to tell the Clansmen of Rave to set in motion plans that would bring the God Squad to his domain and quite possibly end his term in the Courts of Death.

~~~

Having arrived at the train station and seeing the human populace going about their business like normal, Aleister had felt an imminent dread at the thought that his enemy was strong enough to do something like this. Demons of Faith usually heralded the invasion of Demons of Hell by corrupting the world of man with their aptly named Corruption, Marking the Earth so that other demons would be able to possess objects within with the utmost ease. What had happened here, with the humans turning into soulless slaves, made Aleister think that perhaps a Demon of Sin had come here and made a contract with all present, yet Edward’s magic had clearly shown only one demon present and that there had only ever been one demon. Musing that a Demon of Faith was acting more in the manner of one of its weaker kin, Aleister wasn’t ready when Grey walked up to one of the soulless humans, who moved with a stuttering gait, and with a single swing of his golden blade sliced the man in half from crown to groin. Staring at the Mad Paladin in shock, Aleister could see that Grey Silverman’s eyes were filled with a mad glint that made it clear that what was to come was going to be anything but pleasant.

Hearing the shrill cries of those inside the train, Aleister scanned around to see how the other soulless beings would react, only to see that they hadn’t even registered the death of one of their own as if they hadn’t been programmed for such a possibility. Seeing the lack of response, Aleister shared a look with his brother, the same disquiet mirrored in Edward’s purple eyes. While at the same time, Aleister realised what made him so uncomfortable about the destruction of the train conductor. He had never even bothered to defend himself nor had he cried out in either anger or fear as he was being attacked, something that made his destruction even more uncanny.

All at once, the God Squad came to see the truth of the horror that had been inflicted on this town. The town’s people stopped with a sudden uniformity that made Aleister think they were all one being controlled by a single will, which in a way they were. The citizens of Symir, good men, women and children, who had all once been loving and caring humans, now attacked them with the viciousness of a rabid animal and a silence that revealed the emptiness that lay within.

Charging forwards with speed and strength beyond what was normal for humanity, the soulless beings armed themselves with whatever makeshift weapon they had at hand. Every single one of them attacked silently with dead, emotionless eyes that held no fear of death, for in truth they were already dead.

The one to respond to the attack first wasn’t the Paladin of Gray, who had sworn vengeance on everything demonic or the Maw Brothers whose nature made them oddly equipped to defeat entities born of either Heaven or Hell, but of a single mage whose use of fire had earned her the name Burnout. Shooting fire from her upraised palm, she made bolts of fire blow through people like a stone travelling through a single piece of taunt paper. Except instead of just burning a hole through them, the fire seemed to cling to the wounds it left and even started to eat away at the bodies of those it had pierced, burning them from the inside out. Thereby, proving in the minds of the Maw Brothers once and for all how Jane had earned her name.

Shocked at Jane’s decisiveness, the Maw Brothers paused as they took in the Fire Mage, who continued to launch fire darts from her right palm while she cradled her staff in her left arm, clearly ready to use the staff at a moment’s notice to increase the fire that would flower on this battlefield. Eyeing Jane with approval, Grey made a noise halfway between a cough and a laugh that caused the Maw Brothers to snap back to attention, only to face another shock that made them resonate with a single emotion. The men, women and even children that had been struck by Jane’s mana born fire were not falling. They were not dying and most horrifying of all was that even as they burned they didn’t scream. Hissing with rage, Jane redirected her flames to the heads of her targets, burning their flesh, skin and skulls away until headless, lifeless and most importantly motionless bodies dotted the station.

The reasons that the Maw Brothers hadn’t attacked yet was because they had been trained to neither under or over estimate their foes, and now that they could see the undying nature of their enemies, they stepped up and went to war. Switching over from the defensive formation that they had been using, Aleister and Edward shared a single thought before they went on the offensive, neither brother being swayed by the flesh puppets before them.

Seeing that the soulless humans began to launch attacks with spears and pitchforks from a distance, Aleister advised his brother that they would have to commence their plan earlier than the two of them had hoped.Using his natural inhuman speed coupled with his magic, Edward sped around the train station using his purple energy blades to slice humans into two unequal pieces which left various pools of red blood everywhere one looked.

This display of speed was more than just a show of force, while attacking the soulless. Edward moved close to both Jane and Grey who had taken up positions to the right and left of Aleister respectively and told them the basics of what needed to be done. The plan was simple. They needed to protect the train and those onboard so they would draw the centre of the battle away from the station and let the military deal with any stragglers, while at the same time seek out the source of the corruption and end it.

Advancing with his allies, Aleister pointed his guns at the ten o’clock and two o’clock positions before he started to pull the trigger with unwavering certainty and without bothering to aim the guns at his targets. Willing the telesma that endlessly filled his body to pour forth, Aleister sent out a wave of golden streaking meteors that tore through the humans attacking him, killing them between one breath and the next.

For each of the golden meteors that poured forth from his raised guns had been fashioned from telesma to search out and destroy the soulless beings before him. The innate nature of the golden bullets meant that just like water running downhill, the bullets sought out and destroyed the soulless regardless of what was between Aleister and his targets.

And while technically any seraphim with their endlessly refilling telesma reserves could emulate what Aleister was performing, most seraphim lacked the same amount of telesma reserves that Aleister possessed. This factor meant that Aleister could freely use telesma to a much greater extent which had allowed Aleister to be branded with the unofficial titles, the Golden Gunslinger or the Angelic Gunslinger.

Advancing as a collective, the God Squad pushed deeper into the train station with Aleister centred in the middle of the formation allowing him to protect and attack his allies and enemies respectively, while Jane and Grey used their own styles to attack and destroy those that attacked them.

To the left of Aleister was Jane who continued her burning attacks that left bloodless but scorched corpses in her wake with motes of still glowing ash floating through the air around her. While on the right of Aleister and with his normal uncaring, mad nature, Grey danced across the station, a whirlwind of golden majesty that left motes of red dancing through the air as he passed by humans beheading them with the ease of a human killing ants. Edward Maw on the other hand didn’t have a defined position in the group, instead he used his speed to flit around the battlefield and prevent the others in the God Squad from being overwhelmed. At the same time, Edward also led the mindless, soulless humans to a fellow member of the God Squad so that their lives could be extinguished.

Once the God Squad emerged from the station and out onto the main street, Aleister judged that they were far enough from the train and that the soulless weren’t attacking those aboard. He then sent a swift and silent command to his brother.

Clerics on a battlefield were invaluable. They possessed many different abilities from transportation to healing to even being able to exorcise demons from the vessels that they were possessing. But the most significant power that they possessed was the ability to create blessed sanctuaries; holy havens where combatants and non-combatants could rest, heal and be safe from the dangers of the world. These places were usually set within buildings such as temples and only the best clerics could create makeshift ones out of nothing, which was why Aleister felt a swell of pride when Edward’s anti-demon barrier collapsed and restructured itself into one such sanctuary.

The golden road that the train travelled atop was also used as a pipeline for the telesma generated in Albion to flow out to the other holy cities. Edward tapped into the golden road and used the power of the greatest geometric magic in the world to create a new protection system around the train. One that would no longer be dependent on his strange and innate magical power and one that the Demon of Faith would find a true challenge to subvert.

Feeling the magic stabilise, Aleister smiled before he returned to attacking the waves of enemies that were attacking with a sudden even more frantic nature to them. It was as if the construction of the telesma infused barrier around the train had upset the demon that controlled them.

Changing from short range to long range, Aleister began to snipe enemies while they were still streets away. As Aleister was attacking those that were beyond the reach of the others in his squad, he kept an eye out for his allies, so that he could either kill those that tried to hurt them or heal them if they needed. At the same time, Jane and Edward had teamed up, because unlike Aleister or Grey they weren’t able to use telesma, which purged the corruption from the human puppets the moment it touched them, causing the soulless to die instantly.

Moving back and forward from in front of Jane to behind her, Edward moved with dizzying speed attacking the enemies and knocking them down and binding them together so that Jane could use her mana to spam waves of fire that left nothing but incinerated flesh behind. All the while using any opportunities to use his purple blades to sever or destroy outright the weapons and items the demon controlled mass were wielding.

Advancing forwards, Edward and Jane to a lesser extent could see that the enemy was changing. Because every time that Edward moved outwards in their cyclic attack, the enemy increasingly incorporated tactics into their battle instead of just relying on weight of numbers. Every time Edward charged forwards, he had found that there were potential traps waiting and even when changing randomly which side he attacked from after leaving the safe zone behind Jane, the traps were still waiting, and were getting better and better.

This was a fact that both Grey and Aleister had also begun to realise as their own respective enemies had begun to adapt to the nature of how their opponents fought. Those tasked with attacking Aleister had realised that they could no longer get within striking distance so had resorted to hurtling their improvised weapons at Aleister, weapons that he had to actively avoid for they were normal and therefore harder to sense and protect from.

Grey had faced a similar problem due to his lack of ranged options. However, Grey was nothing if not unpredictable and had been cycling through a variety of different skills he possessed so as not to be caught in a rhythm.

But even as the enemy grew progressively stronger, the closer the four warriors drew to the church and the demon that resided inside, it was becoming clear that at the current rate the four of them were going, the town would be extinct with everyone inside dead in less than an hour. Especially if they were smart and conserved their strength to marathon the waves of soulless humans attacking them.Yet as if sensing the same thing, a wave of corruption spread through the Marked Earth bringing with it the strangest of sensations, one that made Aleister keenly aware that no matter the disparity in strength between him and his opponent, there was always a way that the strong could become the prey for the weak.

And that was exactly what happened.

Standing over a recently impaled and very dead woman, Grey turned to find that a nearby elderly woman that Grey had punched hard enough to cave her chest in, a woman on the verge of death, was being restored such that her flesh was all but unharmed. The bones and ribs that had been punched out of her chest had pulled themselves back into her flesh and despite that fact that she was now whole, Grey could still see a taint of darkness where the wound had once been. Cursing, Grey spun and decapitated one child that had been sneaking up behind him, his golden blade searing the body as it became clear that whatever Ulkry had just done had endowed those that stood against them with the same powers of corruption that demons normally possessed.

Hearing the sound of gunshots, Grey knew that the soldiers that had disembarked from the train, to take up defensive positions around it, had started to encounter enemies. Enemies, that from the sounds of it were also armed with at least rudimentary armaments of their own.

“Aleister!” roared Grey, his eyes untouched by the hellish world he stood in, yet at the same time showing memories of one that was even worse. “Go find Ulkry and kill him, otherwise we’ll be here forever and the demon might decide to escape!”

Hearing Grey’s order, Aleister made sure to obtain confirmation from both Jane and Edward, knowing that if he left, the weight of the attack would have to be picked up by them.

Moving off, Aleister sped up using the telesma within his body to empower the circle magic embroidered into his boots and pants, allowing him greater mobility and speed than what he would normally possess. Just as he finished casting his enchantments, Aleister headed up the main street which connected the church at the centre of the town and the station to its south.

Grey then realised that the body of the child moved or more aptly the bomb impaled in the child’s stomach made the child move. Exploding, the child’s blood and bodily fluids spewed upwards towards Grey obscuring his line of sight so that he couldn’t see the gunmen aim at him.The gunmen took aim and fired, but before the bullets could hit a blur of black motion sped past Grey and tried to block the attack.

Standing before Grey, Edward Maw swayed slightly as he felt his body pelted by the bullets that had been altered by corruption, the infernal power that the Demon of Faith had sent out. A power that made both the gun and the bullets warped and infused with properties that made them alien to the very same gun that they had been days ago. Catching the swaying Edward, Grey quickly checked over Edward to see if he had been injured more severely than what was apparent. For Grey in his long experience fighting demons knew that wounds made by items corrupted by Hell’s nature were sometimes worse than what they seemed.

The reason Edward had failed to block the attack was because he had set up a general barrier and the bullets had been altered so that they possessed penetrating properties, especially against magical barriers. Despite the fact that the bullets had actually hit Edward, Grey couldn’t find any wounds where the bullets had pierced the skin. Feeling relieved that he wouldn’t have to relive his nightmares again, Grey looked up at the gunman, who was trying to load a new round into his musket, and a murderous rage filled Grey to the point that some last vestige of the will to live sparked in the gunman’s eyes before he was consumed by a ball of fire. A ball of fire thrown by Jane Burnout, which upon contact turned into a net that encased the gunman in flames, flames that rendered the gunman a skeleton in moments, before turning the man into pure dust a few seconds later. Seeing the threat taken care of, Grey had to wonder what was at play here, had the demon purposely used weak attacks to trick them into letting their guard down or was something else at work?

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Feeling the stunned Edward shift in his arms, Grey glanced down and saw that Edward had regained focus. Wondering if it was his clothing at work, Grey let Edward regain his feet but not before he saw that the garment he had been wearing to cover his mouth had fallen away somewhere along the line. Catching where Grey was staring, Edward tried to raise his hand to cover his mouth and hide the demonic disfiguration, yet Edward’s hands didn’t get that far. It was too late. Edward could see the reflection of his demonic almost shark-like mouth in Grey’s eyes. Edward had been born without cheeks covering the side of his mouth, with only a thin strip of muscle just below his cheekbones which pulled his mouth back up when he let it drop. Otherwise he had nothing there so one could look at him from the side and see all the way out the other side of his head.

This had become even worse after Edward had grown teeth all of which could very well have come from a hybrid of a crocodile and shark’s mouth. Edward had promised himself not to show anyone his face lest they attack him on site for being demonspawn. Something his fellow seraphim, especially the demon hunters had done even when he had been a baby in its crib, if Edward was to believe the stories his aloof caretakers had told him when he had been a small child still learning to read and write.

Watching with dead eyes, Grey saw it all and instead of screaming or accusing him of being a demon he simply swung his blade. Dropping backward to avoid the blade, Edward felt the same thing he always felt when someone saw his true visage, the sad, endless loneliness that came from being the only one of his kind and the fact that all things under Heaven and above Hell loathed and hated him. As the blade sawed above his head, Edward heard something severing, and with his unnatural speed he turned around quickly enough to see the head of an elderly woman bounce off the ground before coming to a rest.

Looking up at Grey’s blank face, Edward saw something he had never seen outside of his brother, complete and utter indifference at the distorted features he now laid bare for all the world to see. Shocked that the Mad Paladin would save his life, Edward simply stared upwards at the Gray Knight, unaware of time’s passage.

“Well are you going to keep sitting there or are you going to help me save this town?” snapped Grey in impatience, his hand extended towards Edward to help him up to his feet.

Feeling acceptance hidden deep within those mad eyes, Edward reached out to the first being that didn’t share his blood who accepted him. Standing Edward summoned up his cards of four suits; hearts, flames, swords and stars, before using them to wreak an unchecked havoc upon those that stood against his first friend. Adding the Ace of Fire to his purple energy blades made the swords warp from simply being blades made of purple and calm energy to blades made from dancing, purple flames that crackled with longing to be used.

Feeling the flames that usually came from telesma, Jane turned from her pile of charred corpses and saw Edward, who after having discarded his hood and facial balaclava, was charging about with an upbeat, almost joyous spring to his step, his purple blades radiating heat and indigo flames, a fire that Jane felt had an almost hypnotic beauty. Seeing Jane watching him, Edward paused only to see Jane smile, her eyes completely skipping over his face to watch with unhidden admiration the blades that burned with flames born of magic unknown to this world. Seeing a mass of people approaching with weapons held aloft, Jane simply swung her staff sending spinning pinwheels of fire bouncing back and forth through the streets, turning all those that they touched to a pile of ashes.

Having seen his brother hit by bullets, Aleister had known that he was unhurt through their telepathic connection. Yet watching through his brother’s eyes the unconstrained, accepting nature Grey Silverman and Jane Burnout had shown his brother, Aleister felt for the first time that maybe, just maybe that even monsters like him and his brother could find a place in this world.

Compressing and marginalising his new faith for his teammates and with a quick mental communication with his brother, Aleister raced across the roof tops of the town heading for the cathedral sitting in the heart of the town, having determined that traversing across the roofs was quicker and less riddled with enemies. While hopping from roof top to roof top, Aleister allowed his mind to merge with his brothers to see how he was doing and to use it as a reference point to allow the Angelic Gunslinger to see where the other members of the God Squad were and more importantly how they were fighting.

Aleister had lived his entire life taking care of his brother and that meant he had overseen his brother’s battle training. Aleister knew that Edward’s usual tactics involved remaining undercover of his barriers before briefly shooting out with his speed to raid the enemy lines before retreating back into cover once a set amount of damage was done. And while there were several variances of this move set, including using the cards themselves as projectiles, the one thing that Edward had never been trained for was to fight alongside another person.

Contemplating this fact and it being the reason that Edward had been hit, Aleister stopped to observe a few soulless humans run in an uncanny and nightmarish silence that made Aleister keenly aware about what he was going to fight. Pushing the thought aside, Aleister turned his mind to his two other compatriots, both of whom were fighting in their own respective ways. Thanks to the fact that Aleister had left the group, the dynamic of the situation had changed so that the three members of the God Squad were fighting their own individual battles with minimal overlap now.

Jane was fighting her opponents using her strongest weapon, the heat of her fires, which she used to melt her opponents and their weapons upon them, all the while untempered by emotion or empathy. Cloaked in flames, Jane was all but immune to the ranged attacks of her enemies, due to their attacks dissipating into gases, and without teammates to interfere with her use of fire, she had everything around her ignited by mana born flames. Fire which she controlled enough that only what see wanted to burn did so, which meant that despite being on fire, and even consumed by roaring, swirling vortexes of flames, some of the buildings were completely unharmed by her mystical flames while their inhabitants were reduced to soot. Standing tall and proud, all while covered in crimson flame, Jane was assured victory simply through the perfected and practiced use of fire and mana.

Pausing in his movements, Aleister stopped as he observed women armed with guns move silently as if patrolling. Not wanting to draw attention nor alert Ulkry that he was coming, Aleister waited for the patrol to pass, all the while thinking over Jane and how she melted the weapons of her opponents onto them. Aleister could see why she had been chosen for this squad.

Shifting his attention away from what awaited him, Aleister turned his attention to Grey who fought hand, tooth and sword against the hordes that waylaid him. All the while the Mad Paladin glowed with a golden light that made the soulless twitch back and even caused a few to clearly stop functioning properly as they seemed to lag or even stutter in place as if they couldn’t figure out what to do. Watching Grey, Aleister noted that he seemed to alternate between fighting styles, going from a paladin who relied on their holy armaments, to styles that were clearly inspired by berserkers, as Grey seemed to fight uncaring of what damage he suffered.

Seeing the patrol pass out of sight, Aleister had the final jump down to the courtyard that was outside the church. Landing soundlessly, Aleister checked around to make sure that there were going to be no surprise attacks before walking forwards towards the church door and the horrors that lay beyond. Standing at the entrance to the fallen church, Aleister couldn’t help but feel that he was about to walk into the maws of Hell itself.

Placing his hand upon the door, Aleister looked at the iconography strewn across it, the imagery depicting the birth of Heaven, the Eight Archangels, the civil war amongst the different factions of Heaven and eventually the fall of Lucifer. Looking at the church door, Aleister breathed deep and for the first time failed to feel the sense of comfort and hope that the churches always brought to him. Instead, Aleister felt at a loss knowing that Demons of Faith were known to damn human souls to Hell, all with a single sentence.

Pushing the door to the fallen church open, Aleister advanced, his golden telesma forged guns gripped tight as he stepped forward into the demon’s domain.Striding through the entrance, the first thing Aleister saw was the demon waiting for him in front of the altar. Ulkry stood tall and erect, his bearing rigid and unrelenting, and even though he wore the body of another, the eyes that watched Aleister were filled with intelligence of dark yet almost human proportion.

While Ulkry was wearing the standard wardrobe for a cleric, the robes had been altered by the corruption that pooled off of the demon. Instead of the traditional gold and white, with the possible addition of silver based on personal preference, Ulkry had altered the colour scheme to black and purple, as well as reduced the amount of cloth involved until the robes seemed to cling to the demon’s stolen body.

The subtle and obvious differences between the normal and custom uniform made Aleister’s mind coil back as if he had seen something wrong. Yet, this wrongness was nothing compared to the dark stench of corruption that hung around the demon which seemed to mock the church that the two stood inside of, the effects making Aleister feel almost physically ill.

Taking in the insides of the church, Aleister looked around at the dim and mist filled church that felt not only too large for the building it was housed in, but also both far too dark and yet somehow illuminated enough to make the entire room visible. Seeing the mist swirling around the countless rows of pews and knowing its meaning, Aleister tried to still himself at the knowledge of what it could be used to create.

Finishing his quick survey of the room, Aleister focused in on one of the kings of Hell. The demon garbed in the black and purple robes cut a striking figure especially when combined with the host’s body, a slim, tall and dark haired man who had streaks of silver hair that added to the cleric’s looks, creating a veneer of wisdom.

Waiting with a politeness that Aleister felt had to be faked to throw him off, the demon stood waiting with a patient expression, an expression that made Aleister feel like the demon was nothing but affable. Stepping slightly to the side, Ulkry moved with a strange and horrific mixture of normal movement and some unnatural glide that made Ulkry seem to move like he was a predator stalking prey. Following Ulkry with both guns focussed squarely on Ulkry’s head and heart, Aleister felt a deep well of trepidation at the prospect of having to fight, win and kill the demon before him. Especially, when it was known that strong, powerful demons could return intact and undamaged in other vessels even if they supposedly perished with their last vessel. And a king was said to be the most powerful demon in their respective circle or level.

Ulkry had been watching Aleister with an earnest and honest curiosity, a curiosity that sought to learn everything about Aleister, from the nature of his power to the very depths of his soul. Analysing everything, Ulkry had at first been interested in Aleister’s guns but had drifted to other topics when it became obvious that the seraphim before him, knew who he was up against and was terrified because of it.

Taking a moment while Aleister was still with dread, Ulkry looked away and moved slightly. Seeing this, Aleister felt the desire to strike at this moment of distraction before noticing that the doors to the church were closing with a soft, final click that made Aleister hesitate.

The moment the doors shut, an ominous whispering spread throughout the church, while Aleister felt a buzz run through his mind as he tasted fear. For now Aleister was truly within the demon’s realm, and this knowledge, that filled Aleister’s mind with an unnatural swiftness, was what made Aleister hesitate. However this hesitation showed to Aleister something, which had made the church so surreal, the source of the illumination and visibility.

For the entire church was without a single source of light, no torches, no candles and no magic that would make the interior visible, until the doors had closed, revealing the faintest of blue glow emerging from the cross propped up on the altar that Ulkry had been standing before. Seeing the cross, Aleister almost lowered his weapons in shock, because for once Aleister didn’t need his brother’s vast encyclopaedic knowledge to figure out what was before him.

The Tear of Ymir.

The Tear was in the shape of a cross with a misshapen hexagon at the end of each arm so that the points faced outwards perpendicular to the cross that it was a part of. Along each of the pure gold arms of the cross was a sinuous line that traced from the hexagon to the jewel that rested in the centre of the cross, the same place where the four spikes that were at 45 degrees from the arms emerged from the cross.

The jewel itself glowed with an internal light that was both brilliant blue and also at the same time filled with a thousand dancing white motes of light. A light which made Aleister wonder as he gazed upon it, if the reason no other demons were appearing was because Ulkry was blocking them or if the Tear was performing the miracle.

Every seraphim alive learned of Heaven and the angels that they were descendent from. They learned of Michael, the first archangel who had found Gabriel amidst the emptiness of the Abyss and then Raphael and then Uriel. They learned how the four archangels began constructing Heaven and how the other archangels Ithuriel, Anael, Ishmael and Lucifer had appeared and joined together to finish Heaven.

Every seraphim learned of how Lucifer and Ishmael had fallen from Heaven and most importantly, every seraphim learned of the mighty and eternal constructs Heaven had created. They learned of the Egg of the Beginning, of Excalibur, of Longinus, of the Adamas Blade, of Saints, and of the Tears of Ymir, the 16 God Relics that prevented more pagan gods from arising, and that these relics house a sliver of a pagan god’s soul.

Staring at the Tear in shock, Aleister almost let his guard drop as he was wonderstruck at the presence of the Tear of Ymir and horrified at the possibilities that the Demon King before him could possibly unleash with the Tear. Snapping back to attention, Aleister focused in on Ulkry who had returned to his assessment of Aleister while the gunslinger had been distracted by the Tear.

Raising his hands, Aleister willed forth telesma, causing the already constructed guns to be condensed even further all the while the guns were remodelled until they were sleeker and less like the mechanical and clockwork designs that the elites of the Alchemist Guild had created. Feeling the familiar grip of his weapons in his hand, Aleister tried to settle his mind as he looked onwards towards the demon that stood before him. Yet despite his attention focused solely on the agent of evil before him, Aleister couldn’t help but have his gaze return to the cross that rested on the altar.

For the nature of the object seemed to draw and pull Aleister’s telesma towards it, not with enough force to actually move or even affect the telesma formed into weapons, but the effect was strong enough for Aleister to notice. The force that pulled at Aleister’s telesma was almost a calling, a calling which whispered into Aleister’s mind for him to pick up the cross and to wield it to cast the Demon King out.

Noticing the fact that Aleister’s attention kept shifting from Ulkry to the Tear and back, the demon’s eyes filled with a wicked light as the avenue for dialogue emerged. All the while, the demon’s expression shifted from one of curiosity to something else, something other.

“You can take it if you want,” said Ulkry, his voice soft and soothing, yet still firm enough to be commanding.

“What?” asked Aleister without meaning to, while at the same time Aleister cursed himself for getting drawn into conversation with the demon before him.

“The God Relic, you can take it,” said Ulkry, not a hint of malicious intent in his tone or words, yet Aleister still felt that they were off, that the demon was messing with him. For in Aleister’s mind there was no way that the Demon King of Faith would simply give away a relic that would allow him to corrupt and destroy a pagan god.

“Why would you give it away?” asked Aleister despite himself, something in his mind longing to know what trickery the demon was weaving. “You can use that relic to corrupt Ymir. You could even use its connection to Ithuriel to try and corrupt him, maybe even make him fall.”

Watching the demon pause as if the idea was completely alien to him, Aleister felt the blood fall from his face. The shear dread at the idea that he had given Ulkry the idea to use the Tear in a way that the demon hadn’t envisioned made Aleister feel as if he was about to be physically ill.

“It is a nice idea, but I don’t want that,” said Ulkry as he twisted his voice on the last word, making Aleister feel that he was only digging himself deeper by listening to the demon. “I want you to take the Tear and return it to Arthur personally,” continued the demon as he moved backwards with his strange walk glide, at the same time gesturing at the cross for Aleister to take it.

“It’s rigged with a trap, isn’t it?” asked Aleister as he kept his focus and his guns trained on Ulkry, who had moved to the left side of the church, while Aleister had circled to the right side.

“No.”

“Then you’ll attack me when I take it, or can’t you interact with it while it’s on the altar?” asked Aleister as his mind failed to see the reasoning behind Ulkry’s words.

Putting on a speculative expression, Ulkry simply shrugged, the movement causing the demon to blur slightly before he continued to walk towards the entrance. At the same time, Aleister circled towards the altar keeping the demon at a distance, not realising he was being herded towards the relic. Stopping in front of the exit to the church, Ulkry turned to face Aleister, who was now standing before the altar, his back towards the God Relic.

“I genuinely want you to take it,” said Ulkry as he looked, for all the world, like a kind old man offering a simple boon.

Seeing the sincerity in Ulkry’s words, Aleister’s mind fought through the noise and fear to finally hit upon a reason for the demon’s kindness and it made the already pale Aleister lose what colour he had regained.

“I know what you’re doing,” said Aleister, a sudden shift in his tone indicating that now that he knew what was going on, he could respond to the situation without doubt. “You’re trying to mess with my mind to corrupt and break me with your words.”

“And yet, despite knowing that my words are poisonous, you won’t be able to escape their effect,” said Ulkry, his tone leaving it ambiguous about whether this issue was something of sorrow or delight for him.

Hearing enough, Aleister pulled the trigger and fired golden streaks of light at the demon before him. However instead of striking the demon, they missed as if the very space between them had distorted to make the attack wide by over a metre. Standing still in shock, Aleister stared with wide incredulous eyes at Ulkry, while a voice whispered in his mind, ‘How?’

Ulkry on the other hand, who hadn’t even blinked at the unprovoked attack, continued to talk untroubled about what it would do to the man standing before him.

“You know that was a risky move. Imagine if I was one of my less civilised brethren. They would make the humans outside attack your teammates with real vigour and cunning, not the play fight their currently performing,” said Ulkry with the tone one would use to lecture a disappointing student. “The paladin would be okay but that mage, she would fall before my minions and the cleric would probably die trying to save her,” said Ulkry, his voice echoing with a sudden intensity that made Aleister flinch away.

Pausing to wait to see if Aleister would respond, the gunslinger was wise enough not to try and trade words with the being before him.

“So you care more about the cleric than the mage or paladin,” said Ulkry, after he had surveyed Aleister’s response to his prompting and the ensuing silence.

Thinking quick, Aleister tried to come up with the best response that he could think up that would redirect Ulkry away from his brother.

“I only care about him because he isn’t-,” said Aleister as he tried to respond only to realise even as the words fell from his mouth that they were only making things worse.

“So I should attack him if he’s the weakest link,” said Ulkry with a faint damning smile.

Instead of responding verbally, Aleister simply opened fire sending hundreds of golden bullets racing outwards from his position to hit anything at random, only for the mist that entwined the building and the pews to rise up to block the attack.

“So I take it you don’t want me to attack your brother,” said Ulkry as the mist of black and red particles fell down like a curtain opening to reveal the true act that would be played on stage.

Hearing those simple words, Aleister felt himself freeze solid, his mind reeling at the implications of the simple, single sentence that the demon had uttered. And as Aleister stared at Ulkry, several thoughts ran through his head, all of which boiled down to one single question that made Aleister realise how utterly out of his depth he was, ‘How did he know?’

Ulkry, who watched with a kind face and eyes that truly belonged to a demon, seemed to realise what he had said had rattled and shaken Aleister so badly that he had stopped thinking. Moving slightly, as if to advance forwards, Ulkry had to restrain a smile as Aleister snapped out of his trance upon realising that his tormenter wasn’t finished with him yet.

“How did you know?” asked Aleister hoarsely, the horror clearly gleaming in his golden eyes.

“I know now,” said Ulkry in the most blasé of voices. “When I talked about the Mad Paladin you didn’t doubt my words so you have faith in him, but you didn’t mind if I was wrong, so you don’t care about him. And while you didn’t truly believe me when I talked about the Queen of Burning and how she would fall, you also didn’t care if she perished, but the affection and fear you had when I spoke of the Demon Cleric. That was born of familial love and considering how old the two of you are it was a simple deduction.”

Seeing Aleister blink in surprise while his face twisted in self disgust at the thought of how he had revealed information to the one being you never want to reveal anything to, Ulkry continued on to his next sentence, with it acting like a slap in the face to Aleister.

“Of course, the fact that the two of you are the same type of demonspawn made the entire issue mute,” said Ulkry with amusement, having revealed that he had played with Aleister this entire time.

“You recognise us?” asked Aleister, his voice tinged with the first emotion other than dread since he had arrived inside the church, one of hope.

“I am a king and a king always recognises their subjects no matter what form they come in,” said Ulkry with a warm kindness that Aleister felt for the first time was, perhaps at least on some level, real.

“We are the children of a Demon of Faith?” asked Aleister, confusion filling his voice, because Aleister knew that whatever demon had fathered him and his brother was something unknown to the seraphim, and a Demon of Faith was something that was not only known but something that they fought against extensively.

“No, you are not a child of Hell, but you are a demon and your existence is something that will be either a bane or a boon,” said Ulkry, something in his tone making it clear he was done with his studies, his curiosity, his plotting.

“For whom?” asked Aleister, something in him yearning for the answer to an entire lifetime’s worth of questions.

“It has yet to be decided, but like everything else in your life, it won’t be your decision to make,” said Ulkry, the faintest trace of a smirk appearing on his host’s face.

“What do you mean by that?” asked Aleister as he tasted a dark emotion in his mouth, a rage that had bubbled to the surface at the mere implication that his life was not his own, while a voice in the back of his head asked if he really didn’t see it.

“You don’t know… you truly don’t know,” laughed the demon. “You know nothing of the world, save the lies told to you by Arthur and his acolytes. You know nothing of Faust, nothing of the War of the Gods, nothing of Jupitor Soulstorm and the beginning of magic. You know nothing,” said the demon, his eyes holding equal measures of mirth and pity. “You have lived your life in a cage, but you think you are free, and you wonder why I consider you to be a puppet dancing on ethereal strings.”

Seeing the demon regard him in such a way, turned the rage inside Aleister into a cold, darker emotion that verged on true hatred and before he could cognitively realise what he was doing, Aleister opened fire sending dozens of telesma bullets flying towards the demon.

All of which missed, yet again.

Because unlike the few times that Aleister had attacked the demon before, the attacks had either missed by such a large margin that they were barely attacks or they were blocked by overwhelming power. Yet this attack missed because, with a single step and a distortion in space itself, a distortion great enough that Aleister could never have missed it, Ulkry appeared before Aleister as if he had taken a single step and with minimal effort he grabbed the gun in Aleister’s right hand and turned it between the two demonic beings.

Feeling shock, Aleister immediately moved the gun in his left hand to shoot Ulkry in the chest until there was nothing left, only for the hellmist Ulkry used to deposition into solid matter binding Aleister in place. The mist seemed to take the form of a third hand and arm, a tactic which left Ulkry with his right hand free and within striking distance of Aleister.

Standing this close to Ulkry, Aleister could finally see the demon for what it really was, or more precisely he could finally see the telltale signs that had been missing from Ulkry before.

Every demon from the depths of Hell who wore the body of a human could shape and distort it into something other, giving it horns or tails or even wings, yet when they tried to suppress their unholy nature they left behind a trace of what they really were. And those with the skill and/or knowledge could easily perceive this tell. Although some people could perceive it as an aura that hung around the demon, the denizens of Hell usually coloured their eyes, hair and even shadows into the different colour based on which circle of Hell they came from.

Yellow tainted for the Demons of Sin, who tempt, twist and trick the living into performing one or all of the sins of sentience, the corrupted desire to create a better world.

Demons of War burnt with red and set man against man, woman against woman and made sure that war never ended. The Demons of Faith, who corrupted mortal souls so that they fell to Hell when death finally found them, were adorned with a purple aura. The Demons of Light, the demons of the sixth circle, were bound in white when they could find a host that was able to contain them.

Seeing Ulkry up close and seeing his purple eyes, Aleister remembered all of this base knowledge as if the information had somehow been hidden from him, while the fear and rage that dwelt within him, turned and churned now that he was so close to the demon beyond anyone’s control. Gripping the gun with such strength that it was immobile, Ulkry slowly pulled the gun upward so that it was at eye height between the two of them. Watching the gun and the demon’s hand that had gripped the holy telesma that the gun was made from, Aleister could see, hear and even smell the reaction the two incompatible substances were having with each other.

Releasing both guns, Aleister jumped back and ended up hitting the altar behind him, stopping dead as he looked at Ulkry, who returned to his upright posture. The golden guns in his hands made a massive and quite glaring contrast between what he was and the holy substance that filled his hands. Crushing the guns without glancing down, Ulkry looked at Aleister with a predatory gaze, all the while bearing an expression of sympathy, empathy and sorrow at what was to come next. Seeing this, Aleister had to wonder as some small voice in the back of his head asked a question, ‘which expression was Ulkry’s mask and which was his true emotions?’

It was at that moment, Aleister felt it. The mental connection, that had been born the day his brother had been born, was severed. Feeling the loss of the connection as his mind was isolated by a wall of nothingness, Aleister was set adrift. Because for the first time in his life, dating all the way back to when he was a child, Aleister was alone inside his head and the emptiness was worse than any pain he had ever felt. Collapsing, Aleister leaned against the altar, his back pressed against the marble as he stared with haunted eyes at the demon before him, as if begging for an answer, as if asking for hope.

“Tell me, why did you, come here?” asked Ulkry, his voiced filled with an honest curiosity all the while a hidden layer of contempt seemed to lie under it.

“I mean the paladin and his madness would not have fallen to me and let’s face it, he’s trained to deal with me and mine. The mage she probably would have died by my hand but only because of lack of experience. Your brother, he would have been my second choice after the paladin. His barriers would have cushioned my influence if it had any affect. But you, you’re filled with faith that’s as brittle as glass and sending you in here, knowing that I was here, is like sending you to die.”

Looking at Ulkry with hollow eyes and a broken will, especially after having realised that the silence that filled his mind meant that his brother was dead, Aleister heard a faint buzz run through his mind as he processed the information that Ulkry was trying to distil for him.

“If you weren’t sent in here to die then you were sent in here to get you away from your brother so that the rest of your squad could kill him,” said Ulkry with sympathy.

“What?” asked Aleister, as he snapped out of his mental stillness, his eyes focusing in on Ulkry with an intensity and weakness that made the demon smile.

“They sent you in here so that they could kill your brother,” repeated Ulkry as if explaining a tragedy to someone who had missed half the show.

Shaking, Aleister seemed to gather himself as he clambered to his feet.

“No, even if I believed that Grey would do this, she wouldn’t let him,” said Aleister as he tried to escape the horror that he was listening to.

“Jane would kill him, after all he is a mixture of magic and you know what she does to people that experiment with mixing magic. Nothing but ash remains,” said Ulkry in a heartbroken whisper as if he was truly sorry that one of his fellow demons had been purged from existence.

Thinking back to the stories that he had heard in the train, Aleister felt as he replayed those conversations in his mind that perhaps they had desired his brother’s death. As this crushing realisation hit him, Aleister swayed on his feet before a whisper ran through his mind, one that encouraged him to take revenge on the one’s responsible.

Staring down at his own curled up shaking hand, Aleister lifted his head up to stare at the demon before him, his grief filled eyes red with pain and sorrow while dampness stained his handsome face. Unmoved by the broken majesty before him, Ulkry waited to see where the blame would land, on Ulkry, on Aleister’s teammates, or on Aleister himself. Hoping for the latter but expecting the former, Ulkry waited with a patience that belonged only to those that had lived for longer than the entirety of modern history. As Aleister’s face endlessly shifted through various expressions, Ulkry could see that he had been right. Whatever enmity that Aleister had for his teammates was lost amid the hatred Aleister had for Ulkry and for himself.

Seeing the resolution to Aleister’s whirlwind of emotions, Ulkry could already see hear and taste what Aleister’s decision would be. He would fight to the death both to avenge his brother and to join him when he fell. A decision that Ulkry could see was because Aleister’s will to live was too strong to break even from the inside, even by the man that it belonged to.

With trembling hands, Aleister summoned forth two shotguns made of gold that he aimed at the demon before him, as Ulkry looked back, the perfect picture of serenity. Aleister’s visage was filled with rage, sorrow, grief and a faint semblance of rationality, which allowed the Angelic Gunslinger to keep his composure and try to fight the demon before him with some measure of control. Seeing that that very same control would prevent Ulkry from getting what he wanted, he spoke with the singular aim to destroy that last spark of control that Aleister possessed.

“You know Aleister for all your grief, for all your rage, you haven’t realised something, something that I can see you’re trying not to notice. Because deep down you long to be free from your brother and the suspicion it brings to you and the fear that others will discover what you hide deep within,” said Ulkry as Aleister went as rigid as stone, his eyes wide while a voice once again screamed into his mind ‘How. Did. He. Know?’

“The reason you haven’t attacked me, the reason you haven’t sworn eternal revenge is, because you are grateful, happy to be free of the prison that is your brother. Because in some hidden part of your soul you wanted your brother gone,” said Ulkry, knowing that his words would be the final straw that would either push Aleister over the edge, causing him to turn his murderous hate inwards, or send Aleister into a broken rage that Ulkry could use to break Aleister even more than he currently was.

Standing there still, rigid from the last sentence that Ulkry had uttered, and hearing this new piece of information, Aleister felt as if some part of him had been unearthed for all the world to see and it was worse than any other aspect of himself. Realising that some small terrible part of him was relieved, Aleister felt something beginning to break as what little faith Aleister had in himself started to fracture. A sensation that Ulkry clearly was aware of as the demon leaned forward, his eyes alight with anticipation and delight, while the purple aura around him pulsed with longing.

Letting out a soundless scream, Aleister attacked the demon, for the first time ever with an overwhelming desire to kill, a murderous rage that Aleister turned upon the vile being before him so that he wouldn’t turn the same emotions inwards. Launching thousands of attacks, thousands of golden streaking meteors from the dozen or so semi-formed canons Aleister had created instinctively. The attacks flew straight for the King of Faith, each one filled to overflowing with the desire for the death of the Demon King.

Firing mindlessly, again and again, over and over, with the only desire to strike the demon dead, Aleister’s attacks flew straight and true, each one seeking out their target without deviating course even when space seemed to deviate and twist to expand the distance between the target and missile. Unable to escape the sudden rain of golden destruction, Ulkry was finally hit by the flowing bullets, each one blowing holes through Ulkry’s host body, causing the demon to snarl with pain while staggering back, eyes wide with disbelief.

Howling in fury, Aleister didn’t stop. He couldn’t, even seeing the faint holes that he had punched through the demon didn’t end the desire to ravage the being before him. And in that place of mindless anger, Aleister failed to realise how wrong the situation was, and why Ulkry still possessed the human body.

Compressing the various different guns that had been created in rage and pain, Aleister created a singular cannon that could easily have belonged to a ship that sailed in either the northern or southern seas. Pulling the trigger to the newly formed gun, the demon’s chest was turned into a mass of nothingness, a giant hole piercing through it. Yet instead of dying, Ulkry laughed and seemed to break apart into mist, not a mist of water but of Hell, a mist filled with black and red particles that seemed to be sucked down into the earth or more precisely down into the depths of Hell.

Staring uncomprehending at the place where Ulkry had been standing, Aleister staggered backwards before coming to sit on the edge of the altar that he was standing against. Staring down at the darkened floor, Aleister was at a loss at what to do. His thoughts were unable to comprehend that the target for his rage, the object he wanted to throw all of his psychological scars at, was gone.

Feeling a hand suddenly land on his back, Aleister spun his neck quickly to see Ulkry standing behind him, a small smile on the unblemished face of the demon’s host. Flexing his hand, Ulkry sent Aleister flying forwards so that he landed in the centre of the church, his body sprawled across the eight pointed star that marked the centre of the church and the place where the church and Heaven were meant to interconnect. Scrambling until he was on all fours, Aleister hastily turned around, his training telling him to always have his opponent in line of sight especially when they were more powerful. Even as Aleister’s training told him what to do, another small voice screamed out that something was wrong and that the Ulkry that had broken into mist was a Mist Mirage, a creation of hellmist woven in such a way to create a flawless imitation, a decoy. Levelling his guns at the Ulkry, who stood behind the altar, hellmist seemed to surge upwards and around the Demon King, its black insidious nature making Aleister hesitate.

“When?” cried Aleister, his voice a mixture of horror and sorrow.

Instead of answering, Ulkry, who watched with unfathomable eyes, raised his left hand and with it the mist made of darkness seemed to compress until the mist was solid ore made from darkness with streaks and impurities of hellish red. Grabbing the ore, Ulkry began to shape and change it from a simple piece that fit in a normal human hand until it was a long metallic sword that gleamed black and red as unlike the hellmist with its colour ratio of 1:9 for red and black. This was not true for the metal that Ulkry held.

Letting go of the sword, instead of falling the sword rose up and like dozens of others behind Ulkry pointed their tips at Aleister, who had realised how far he was beneath the Demon King that had played with him from the moment that he had entered the church. The floating swords started to spin, both around and along the axis of the blade creating a drill-like existence. Shooting forwards the blades descended on Aleister, who started shooting hundreds of bullets, with a fear blooming in his mind that his almost inexhaustible supply of telesma might very well be used up.

Ulkry didn’t respond by using his solidified mist, instead he sent waves of dense mist as if they were missiles to be cast at any that dare to fight him. Dodging the mist, Aleister was keenly aware that every instinct he had in his body was telling him that even minor contact with that mist would bring death to him, the same instincts that screamed at him to live and survive.

Having successfully dodged the mist, the next attack came from Ulkry himself. Speeding past Aleister, Ulkry appeared behind Aleister to seemingly embrace him from behind. Twining his arm around his body, Aleister opened fire from his gun without really aiming. Except that Ulkry wasn’t behind Aleister, rather only another clone made from hellmist. Hellmist that fell upon Aleister, causing a searing pain to run through him as his skin burnt from contact with the acidic and corrosive darkness. Quickly using his innate seraphim powers to heal himself the best he could, Aleister wasn’t in time to block, dodge or even counter Ulkry’s next attack.

Taking a missile of mist to the stomach, Aleister launched backwards before another mist clone struck him across the face sending Aleister reeling around the church as if he was a ball that was being tossed about in some strange form of game. Escaping from the constant and repeating bouncing prison, Aleister landed on the church floor. But before he could take a stance either to defend or attack, another clone of Ulkry appeared, and another and another until the room was crowded with the demon’s lookalikes, all of whom were made from hellmist.

Kicking off the ground, Aleister jumped up into the air and landed on the ceiling of the cathedral. He used some of his telesma to power circles carved into the base of his boots so that he could stand on the ceiling without having to pay homage to gravity. Looking up from his perspective, which was really looking down, Aleister levelled his guns and started unleashing a golden rain of light that tore through the hellmist mirages shattering them like glass. However no matter how many he destroyed, the mirages and copies of Ulkry didn’t seem to decrease in numbers. Only after Aleister realised this did he begin to suspect that something was wrong.

Turning to face behind him, he saw an armoured Ulkry holding two swords. As surprise filled Aleister, the blades made from solid hellmist snaked out with a speed that blurred their outline. Feeling the blades cut across his body and blood descend past his head, Aleister felt the magic anchoring him to the roof dissipate and then he was falling. And while he fell, Ulkry sent forth his own version of the attacks Aleister had sent against him.

Being hit by a torrent of hellmist shaped and formed into thousands of arrowheads, Aleister felt his body scream in pain and as he cried out, both his voice and his mind called out to anyone that could hear him. Hitting the floor where he had started, Aleister lay on the ground blood streaming out from him as the telesma that remained in his body sought to heal Aleister, while the armoured Ulkry landed next to him, its gaze filled with pity.

“I know what you are doing,” said Ulkry as he paused to look southward as if seeing through the walls themselves. “Even if you don’t know, I do,” continued Ulkry as he returned his gaze to the broken Aleister. “Your training is telling you to flee, to live, to escape from the enemy that is obviously more powerful than you. Yet here you are, trying to fight a king of Hell.”

“So,” snarled Aleister as he tried to leverage himself up into a more upright position.

“So, you’re trying to get me to kill you, to put you out of your misery since you can’t bring yourself to do it,” said Ulkry as he crouched down next to Aleister, patting him on the back as if he was trying to comfort Aleister, before leaning in and whispering into Aleister’s ear. “But I won’t do that. I won’t put you out of your misery. I will let you live out the rest of your eternal life knowing the horror of what you see in the mirror.”

Opening his blurry and bloodshot eyes, Aleister looked at Ulkry who had made physical contact for the first time. Smiling up at the Demon King, Ulkry’s eyes narrowed in suspicion at Aleister’s smile. But before Ulkry could say or do anything, Aleister sprouted golden spikes from across his body, spikes that formed into gun barrels that unleashed a broadside barrage of bullets into the armoured Ulkry, hitting him at close range. Sending Ulkry flying back, Aleister realised that whatever damage he had done was going to cost him.

Healing himself rapidly, Aleister regained his footing, his clothes stained and matted with the blood he had lost. Yet it was the abnormal lack of telesma in his body, that made Aleister experience the strangest form of vertigo. While the feeling passed momentarily, Aleister realised he had very little in the way of telesma left in his body. This realisation made Aleister stop his wild and carefree attacks and concentrate on renewing his level of telesma by drawing power from his innate connection to Heaven. Ulkry, who had retreated some metres away, observed as the golden guns that had emerged from Aleister’s body submerged themselves while Aleister appeared to be trying to hasten the renewal of telesma inside his body by drawing on the connection to Heaven that every seraphim possessed.

Lifting his hand to his head, Ulkry checked to see how severe the damage from the last attack was, for while he had covered himself in armour made from hellmist, he had left his head uncovered. The armour that Ulkry wore was the same black and red of his swords. Ulkry had formed the armour such that it resembled a bug’s carapace, so that even though it was made from solid materials, it still moved and shifted as if it were just another layer of outer skin. The armour adorned and hugged to his shoulders above his robes while other equipment had appeared on his arms and legs hidden beneath robes. This particular Hell ore was different from the blades as it not only had a shine to it, the black and red made it almost mirror-like. Yet if Aleister had dared to look deeper at the armour, he would have noticed that the armour failed to reflect him.

Pulling his hand away, Ulkry looked at the black, viscous ooze that was smeared across his fingers, the same ooze that poured out of the three, deep gouges that ran across Ulkry’s head from Aleister’s bullets. Even as the wound began to heal, Ulkry kept looking at the black ooze before flicking it down onto the ground, where it caused the ground to corrode and hiss as the ooze ate into the church’s floor.

Refocusing in on Aleister, who was valiantly trying to regather enough telesma to continue his battle with Ulkry, either to fight to the death or to find a weakness and flee, Ulkry rose to his full height. Walking forward with a sure and steady step, Ulkry arrived before Aleister, who upon realising that the Demon King was before him flinched away in fear, all the while awaiting the reward of pain he would be given for actually being able to inflict damage onto the demon.

“I’m sorry little one, but that’s as far as telesma will get you,” said Ulkry with sorrow. “Now you will have nothing to use to fight me with. All that will be left is the horror in the mirror.”

Looking up in defiance, Aleister knew the ring of truth in Ulkry’s words yet some dark, hidden part of his mind whispered to him. A voice questioned whether he could just this once use the power hidden deep within.

“Let’s make this simpler for you,” said Ulkry as he raised his left hand, his palm down turned. “Let me show you how alone you truly are, that your faith in Heaven, your grandfather and your brethren are all built on shifting sand, on false beliefs. Let me show you how far from Heaven we are. And we are so FAR FROM HEAVEN,” said Ulkry, his last few words turning into a shout that echoed throughout the church, the words made not with a human tongue but that of the demon buried within the cleric’s flesh.

The moment the words stopped echoing a burst of hellmist poured forth from Ulkry’s down turned palm, flowing out like an open water tap. The hellmist came pouring down in a continuous stream and where it struck the earth, the ground resounded. Feeling the distortion like it was some living thing; Aleister looked at the church’s floor as if expecting to see it turn into a black, rotting mush.

Yet, what came next was nothing Aleister had ever expected.

Around the church, darkness and corruption spread and with its spread wisps of hellmist started to rise out of the cursed earth to form a blanket of clouds that covered the town in darkness unlike any normal shadow formed by a cloud. As the skies were filled with hellmist, the earth and the world around Aleister rotted, darkening until it had truly become Hell on earth, a barren, broken, sterile realm that should have brought forth every type of demon that been grown from the depths of Hell.

Looking up, Aleister could see it, hear it, and feel it. Every sense Aleister possessed told him that Hell was no longer far away, some mythic realm that demons were born from. It was here. This town was no longer under the control of the world or Heaven or any pagan god, instead Hell had come and Aleister knew if he reached out, all he would be able to find, all he would be able to touch, was Hell itself.

Feeling the corruption blanket everything until everything was so saturated that Aleister couldn’t believe that everything present wasn’t immediately possessed by a demon. The Angelic Gunslinger turned to look at Ulkry, a deep and perfect horror blooming in his heart. For Ulkry had been capable of ending everything between them from the start, instead he had allowed Aleister to weaken himself until he was all but defeated and only then had Ulkry used his true might to prevent Aleister from drawing power from Heaven to overturn the situation he had put himself in.

The Marked Earth and the hellmist together allowed the demon to cut the power of Heaven from this small patch of land leaving it a place where, as Ulkry had implied, Heaven wasn’t able to shine their light. It was this phenomenon that made Aleister double over in pain, as every fibre of his being screamed out in agony, for the connection that Aleister had always felt to Heaven was gone, a void that made any other pain feel like bliss. A pain so intense that Aleister knew if he had needed to eat he would have vomited all across the floor of the church.

All Aleister’s life he had felt the strength of Heaven, wherever he walked he had always felt it a beacon to him through which he could feel his kindred, angelic brethren. Yet under this cloud, upon this earth, in the shadow of this King of Faith, Aleister lost it, lost the connection to Heaven, the one pillar he had held onto for all his life. Even as Aleister screamed and writhed on the floor of the church, he had to wonder why was it so painful, why had he never heard about this from other seraphim, surely they had seen or felt this before, why was it only him who had to endure this …hell?

Screaming out with both voice and thought, Aleister cried out for anyone else present to hear, yet all that Aleister heard in response was silence. Silence which reinforced that Aleister was alone and that his brother was dead. This silence granted Aleister the clarity to know that if he didn’t save himself, he would fall to Ulkry and be refashioned into an agent of Hell.

Realising why he felt such pain as he twitched on the floor, Aleister looked inwards to the core of his being. There he found the normal three cores of magic that he drew strength from, his own internal telesma power, the now defunct connection to Heaven and the power he had hidden from the world.

From this, Aleister could see why he was in such soul crippling pain. All his life Aleister had all but permanently tied down part of his telesma to hide and suppress that other magic, and to do so Aleister had drawn equally from his own internal reserve and from the constant inflow from Heaven. But now that the connection to Heaven was gone, the internal structure he had created to seal his own horrific nature was breaking and unbalanced. This was the source of his pain, the source of the reason he was sprawled across the floor at the mercy of a Demon King, and the only choice that Aleister saw before him was whether to choose to fall to Ulkry or the blood of his father.

“Aleister,” said Ulkry as he squatted down to see Aleister’s face that was pressed against the rotten and blackened ground.

Even as he was torn apart from pain, Aleister turned to look at the demon that had cost him, in the space of a single day, everything.

“Release it,” said Ulkry, his voice simultaneously a command, a suggestion, a plea.

“No,” stuttered Aleister as he groaned at the pain he was encased in.

“Why not? You will finally be free?” asked Ulkry.

“Because I will not become one of the fallen,” said Aleister, his voice laced with defiance.

“You don’t have to, look at Ishmael, he is still an archangel that can be allowed back into Heaven,” countered Ulkry with a fact that Aleister couldn’t refute.

“He betrayed Heaven,” said Aleister through gritted teeth.

“That really depends on who’s telling the story,” said Ulkry with the confidence of one who possessed knowledge. “Look at the werewolves of the Wolfskard. They worship Ishmael along with the other moon gods. The monster in the mirror that you have been taught to fear and hate is only a myth, a myriad of lies that is being used to bind you and contain and control you. Come with me, accept me, and you will be free to become whatever you want, a servant of Heaven, a servant of Hell, or a servant of anything in-between and beyond.”

Looking up at Ulkry for the first time, Aleister saw that the offer was genuine. An offer of freedom that would unbind him from Heaven so that he could become whatever he wanted, and all he had to do was take the demon’s offer. Thinking about it as the pain washed over him in waves, Aleister felt his emotions recede and as he looked into the face of a demon, other memories came to the surface. As these memories filled his mind, Aleister’s eyes shifted away from the demon before his gaze was caught by the thousands of tendrils that arose from the floor of the church. Each one seemed to be in constant flux, yet Aleister as he looked at the hellmist could see that each one looked and acted like a hand that reached ever upwards as if trying to reach up to Heaven and with all its might take Heaven and tear it down to earth.

Lying on the ground with the floor brimming with corruption, Aleister felt the memories wash over him taking him back to his childhood where he had been taught about Hell, about the Forsaken and the Fallen, those that dwell within the 7th and 8th circle of Hell. They were as their names suggested Fallen Angels that followed Lucifer to Hell and the Forsaken Demons born from the aggregated souls of dark and evil humans adrift in the Abyss. These two types of beings, the Forsaken and the Fallen were said to possess the same power, a negative version of telesma, a power, a magic that they generated and flooded up into the higher circles of Hell and out into the Abyss.

Yet in a supreme twist of irony, Hell itself corrupted this power, this magic, until it was different, until it was a mist born of Hell, a hellmist. With each layer of Hell corrupting and filtering the original nature of the mist until that which was released out into the Abyss was a mist dyed in the colours of Hell, an eternal red mist. This same mist could no longer perform its duty of creating more Forsaken or corrupting the souls of those wandering the Abyss until they fell into Hell. Instead, all the mists of hell could do was draw souls downwards, becoming to those already of a dark and terrible nature, a beacon to call them to paradise.

Seeing this mist and remembering its origin, Aleister felt it as it crept along his body offering and waiting for the time to strike and corrupt, a mist that poured from every seam in the church. From cracks and crevices between the floor stones, from the lines of joining between the bricks that made up the walls and ceiling, every tendril of hellmist beckoned and through them Aleister could feel it, the very heartbeat of Hell itself. The same heart beat that made Aleister realise something that made his eyes widen, that made him ignore the pain rising through his every nerve.

The hellmist was different, while similar to corruption it was different again from the magic that slept within Aleister, and this difference stunned Aleister. For it made him realise that he had simply refused to touch his hidden magic before and now that he had no choice but to look at his own, true nature he saw how blind he had been. And the differences were subtle, but once he saw them he could not forget them nor could he look away. For they were the answers to prayers he had whispered in secret, prayers that he had thought no one had ever heard before. Prayers for confirmation that the magic that dwelt within him wasn’t from the depths of Hell, a wish that had been confirmed in this place that was Hell in all but name.

Looking down at the crumbled and suddenly still Aleister, Ulkry waited unbreathing to see what the outcome would be. Would Aleister cross that invisible line of despair and change forever, breaking from all that he had done to him and in breaking join with the demon and become a denizen of Hell? As these unasked questions waited to be answered, not only Ulkry was asking them for far up in the sky Ymir and Munin also watched and waited to see if a villain or a hero would be born in this fallen church.

Shifting, Aleister looked up at Ulkry, his golden eyes clear of pain and filled with a new found faith, not in anything else, not in Arthur or Heaven or Ulkry. Instead, Aleister was filled with faith for himself. He believed in himself for the first time since he had come to the conclusion that the magic he had been born with deep down in his soul was no longer the things he had read about, instead it was something else and that made everything so very different.

“I won’t accept,” said Aleister, his voice filled with confidence, a confidence born not in surety of action but from a sense of self no longer undermined by doubts and fears or the unknown.

Everyone that watched could see that Aleister was sincere in his declaration and more importantly that something was changed about him. A magic rare and unseen within mortal man was now blooming and with it a world of new possibilities.

“Pity, I would have had you join Hell willingly,” said Ulkry as he reached out his hand, trailing the same red and black mist that had cleaved the connection between Heaven and Geb.

As Ulkry’s hand reached out to touch and end the mortal life of the man known as Aleister, a resounding scream of golden energy struck the door, making it explode inwards so that the shards flew towards both Aleister and Ulkry. Ulkry, who had been standing with his back towards the door, was impaled by the rotting wood, causing black ooze to jettison from his body spraying everything around him, with the exception of Aleister, who had been shielded by the demon and the magic that the demon had summoned to protect itself.

Sitting in a void of destruction, a place untouched by demonic blood or the remains of the church’s great double doors, Aleister looked out the gaping hole and saw a pillar of golden light, the one remaining light for the town of Symir. Staring slackjawed at the sight of a pillar of telesma, Aleister’s vision of the golden light was blocked as Ulkry staggered towards the door to also gaze at the light in surprise. However it wasn’t the light that filled Aleister with hope and warmth, it was the fact that his connection to his brother had returned and with it the knowledge that his brother was not only alive but fighting alongside Jane and Grey to reach Aleister. Realising that Ulkry hadn’t killed his brother, but had only severed the link between them and used the confusion of that sudden loss to trick him into believing his brother was dead, Aleister turned his gaze upon Ulkry who was mumbling to himself a single word.

Ulkry kept repeating it as if he would somehow receive an answer, an answer to his single, simple question ‘How?’ How had the Mad Paladin drawn in enough telesma to use that power? How was his connection to Heaven still intact? What was different about this one that allowed him to defy what angels and seraphim had failed to surpass?

While Ulkry was lost in thought as he tried to figure out how the Mad Paladin had seemingly violated his unbreakable magic, Aleister stood no longer in pain physically or mentally. He stood to fight the King of Faith. But before Aleister could step towards the Demon King, a light struck him from behind, a light that had called to him once before, now instead of whispering, it was shouting. Shouting for a hero to pick it up and use it to cast the evil out.

Stumbling towards the cross, Aleister managed to arrive at the altar. All the while as he had gotten closer to the cross the more the centrepiece, the Tear seemed to shine, something the Demon King hadn’t failed to notice. Reaching forwards to wrap his hands around the Tear, Aleister felt a strength flow up his right arm and fill his heart.

Holding the Tear of Ymir, Aleister heard the god’s voice echo and through that voice Aleister could once again hear the sound of Heaven, but this time it was clear and pure, untainted by the interpretation of man or any other mortal being. Raising the Tear, Aleister sent all the telesma his body had left into the item forged by the hands of a God of Heroes and an Archangel of Magic.

Responding in-kind to the telesma, the gem in the centre of the cross blazed out a light that shone beyond what light was meant to be like. And as it swept across the land and across the people that marched towards their death at the hands of Aleister’s companions, the world seemed to be purged of Corruption. Feeling whatever strength he had been given dissipate, Aleister let the Tear drop to the ground as he stumbled back against the altar and smiled in victory.

The town of Symir had been purged of its hellish nature and now there was nothing but a normal town, with normal human beings, all in possession of a soul, dwelling within its boundary. Looking at Ulkry, Aleister expected to see anger. Instead, he only saw calm contemplation as Ulkry marched towards Aleister, a blade of black, red-grained metal in his hands.

“A pity, you would have liked being free,” said Ulkry sincerely, “and you would have been able to find where your father has been imprisoned for all these years.”

“Imprisoned?”

“Yes, didn’t you know? The story goes that your father loved you and your brother so much he stayed and was eventually captured and cast into another world by your grandfather himself. What a battle that must have been!” said Ulkry as he looked up as if picturing the entire event. Glancing back to the open mouthed Aleister, Ulkry continued, “your father was known to me only by reputation, but I know this. He was the only demon that has ever been recorded to feel love.”

Aleister’s mind wanted to burn itself apart at the sudden words that Ulkry spoke. Yet Aleister knew the demon was lying, as there was no way that, Ulkry, would give such a true and honest account of what really happened.

“I suppose there’s no point in asking if you’re lying?” asked Aleister, his voice calm and centred for the first time since he had come face to face with Ulkry.

“I always tell the truth,” said Ulkry as he raised the blade in his hand as if to salute the fellow demonspawn before him, “but for some reason everyone always seems to fail to take heed, after all no one wants the truth.”

Smiling lopsided at what he just said as if he was trying to smile with sorrow, Ulkry lifted his arm back as if he was going to plunge the blade in his hand forwards and into and through the heart of the seraphim that stood before him. But even as the blade pierced forwards, the world twisted and Ulkry found himself staring at an empty patch of air, while his extended arm began to slide apart. At every centimetre between his wrist and elbow, there was a vertical cut that caused the sliced body parts to fall, leaving Ulkry with nothing but a stump of an arm ending at an elbow, which gushed out blackened ooze.

Feeling waves of darkness radiate from behind him, Ulkry the Demon King of Faith felt his breath freeze in his throat. Ulkry had felt this sort of presence before but not from any creature born of man. Turning around, Ulkry saw a fully restored Aleister standing before him, his eyes closed. His breathing was calm and was as dependable as the tides, the setting and rising sun, and also the three moons that adorned the night time sky of the world Geb.

Taking a step back, Ulkry watched, knowing that Aleister Maw at this moment wielded a power equal to that of the Dark Dragon Nidhogg.

Opening his eyes, Aleister showed to Ulkry an orb of jet blackness born of Dark Matter, with a single, snake like, white pupil existing inside the darkness. And the last thing that Ulkry saw through his host’s eyes was a swirl of black midnight feathers and twin crystalline blades made from matter born in the darkness of the Abyss.