'You are here for everyone's good, Silva.' "Even your own" went unsaid, but Gaol John's expression said everything.

Today, the Head of Internal Affairs looked like a wiry old man, his scraggly white beard reaching down to his chest, skin leathery and cracked, back bent under the weight of his deeds and chains-which were far, far more numerous than the ones wrapped around his limbs. He wore colourless rags that might have once been a prison uniform, and his feet were bare. The only sign of his allegiance was the hollow white shield symbol of Internal Affairs tattooed on his neck.

'I know,' I said, trying not to sound whiny. After all, I agreed, even if being quarantined-that is, detained-like this rankled, and not just because of  why I'd been dragged to the IA headquarters in Uluru.

The Mobius cell we were in was pure white, with no boundaries or distinguishing features at all, save for the patch of Broceliande my presence created. I couldn't see, hear or smell anything besides John, who had ordered me not to use Mimir's sight while they analysed both me and the nature of my prison.

'Then stop pouting,' John demanded with a scowl far deeper than mine, which seemed to be his usual expression. 'I told Reem letting the Black God wear you the first time was a mistake,' he crossed his arms, chains tinkling. 'Hoping the pantheons would kill him for us was stupid. Why'd they do that when they could just point him at rivals?'

'Forget that,' I said, not liking this talk of the Headhunt. 'How'd he do it this time?'

'The Fixer's opposite number was waist-deep in this,' the ghost gestalt replied, beginning to pace. 'He didn't warn us, because it would have opened a path for our enemies to receive similar info. Damn balancing game...'

John didn't seem inclined to speak anymore, which meant it fell to me to carry the conversation-I know. I was blanching there, myself.

'How long have I been here?' I asked softly, lifting a hand to get a feel of my face. My body was covered in burns and smoked when I moved. According to the Fivefold, who'd briefly visited me to apologise for failing to foresee this disaster, she'd pushed me facedown into holy water, after which Chernobog had snatched me away. Presumably, the Black God had burned me to amuse himself, before throwing me into Merlin's prison.

But he hadn't known the presence of another prisoner would free Merlin. Power unchained after fifteen centuries, the cambion mage had called upon his Nephilim cousin for help, and together, he and Vyrt had driven Chernobog away.

We had to take their word for it, as the same darkness that had blinded us during our journey into Faerie also prevented our postcognitives from checking the past directly.

But it still felt wrong. Sure, I could believe Chernobog would want to use me as a tool for murder-though that was an understatement, this time-again, then leave me alive but unable to act, so I would suffer more. He was sadistic enough.

But it still didn't fit. Something, maybe my intuition, maybe a sliver of Mimir's perception, if they were even still separate at this point, told me I wasn't seeing the whole picture.

And that would have driven me up the walls, if this cell had any.

'Not long,' John grunted, shrugging. 'Still haven't done a proper check.' His long white hair parted like curtains, allowing me to see the voids swirling where a human would have had eyes. Countless years of of bondage and suffering floated inside the colourless slits into reality, but the images felt like oil over water, like they concealed something deeper. 'A few days. You've been trapped inside your own mind for decades, Silva. What's a few days compared to that?'

His flesh sloughed away as he spoke, revealing a skeletal grin full of broken teeth. In his eyes, I saw the years leading up to my suicide, the feeling of being ignored or mocked by those who read my books.

So petty, so stupid. I hadn't even really thought about my friends and father, about how they would feel. How...how they would react if I came back as a monster.

'I see all that people are bound to and by,' John said in a cold, rasping voice. 'You have many chains upon you, Silva, binding you to what you love and hate and believe in, to what you are and what you are going to become.' He leaned forward. 'But you are not bound to the Black God anymore, for all that your hatred points to him. And if I am wrong, let whoever is listening strike me down.'

***

'It is physical damage-your mind and soul are undamaged, David. I mean that only in a literal sense. I know you must be devastated,' the demon said with an apologetic smile.

Sklaresia was purple-skinned and orange-haired, with backwards-jointed knees, cloven hooves, a pair of black ram-like horns and a muscular tail that tapered to a point. Her face changed with her mood, but, at the moment, her full-lipped mouth was almost humanlike, if one ignored the ivory fangs. "Klare", as she insisted I call her ("We're coworkers, aren't we?") had seven eyes, six of them horizontal black slits and a vertical closed one that went from her button nose and across her forehead, half-covered by her locks.

According to her husband, who was also present, using his magic to ensure his wife would be successful in her checkup of me, she had been a healer during her time in Hell.

'You are clean.' Klare crossed her middle arms. 'Do you feel well enough to answer some questions, David? Just a few, before we try to free you.'

'I'm not sure,' I admitted. 'But...can't we just throw in a zombie or construct in my place and be done?'

'Sorry,' Fernandez said, flipping a silver coin with his thumb without looking at it. 'But whatever allowed Chernobog to throw you in chains and freed Merlin doesn't seem to work anymore. Broceliande isn't... sentient, but it adapts.' He sighed. 'I'll tell them not to press you if you're unwell.' The dark-skinned probability mage looked about as frustrated as I felt, though for different reasons.

'I honestly don't know.' I replied, sitting down on the grass. 'I...I know, in the abstract, that I've killed more people than there have ever been on Earth, but...it's just so much.' Stalin's quote about tragedies and statistics came to mind. 'I know this'll sound stupid, but all I can think of is how pissed off I am at Chernobog bodyjacking me again, and Mia almost being...'

I gritted my fangs, trailing off. My girlfriend and her team had done a great thing in removing R'lyeh from the world, but damn if I could focus on that. Only being told about the true nature of missions shortly before or during them was not uncommon in ARC, especially when memetic threats were involved, but that was cold comfort after learning my zmeu had almost been raped.

She'd told me she'd put the starspawned bastard in a loop of destruction in zmeu country, and I could barely wait to break out of Broceliande and have some time alone with it. It's so great, being immortal...even when you don't benefit from being able to recover from almost anything, people like me do.

'Sorry,' Miguel said softly. 'I should've kept an eye on the rookie, instead of trying to stop the stars by myself. She came up with the solution in the end, anyway!' Miguel laughed self-deprecatingly.

'It's alright,' I said, maybe a little too fast. Was I trying to calm myself down, or him? Trying to convince myself the fact it had almost happened didn't matter now that the danger was gone?

Yeah...as if it couldn't happen again.

Miguel seemed to read my thoughts, and gave me a sympathetic smile. 'I know how it feels. I wasn't there when my Klare was...' His fist tightened around his coin as soon as he caught it again. 'But I'd rather kill myself than let it happen again.'

The demon didn't say anything, instead just walking behind her husband and hugging him.

'Don't know what I'd do if someone hurt you like that again...' the mage whispered, before smiling at me again. 'We're just a little high-strung, David. All of us. So...should I call them in?'

***

Neither Gerald Reyes nor the Argument Engine were able to talk Broceliande into releasing me. As such, ARC switched from scalpels to sledgehammers.

'Gnawing at the chains just makes them tougher,' Shiftskin growled, bear fangs clenched in annoyance. On his right, Ying Lung, today looking like a white-suited Chinese man, with white slicked-back hair, a thin moustache and ivory eyes with black slits, blew a black smoke ring, as dismal as his mood, out of his pipe.

The celestial dragon's attempt to break the chains through force had only resulted in me getting repeatedly obliterated as he tugged, bit, clawed and blasted chi at them-his control over reality slipped right off them-with enough force to destroy the universe several times over.

'Hmm...' Nightraiser tilted their head at me, hands clasped behind their back as they closed their eyes. For a few moments, I knew and felt nothing more, then blinked as my healing dragged me back into existence, remaking me from nothing. The chains and forest appeared at the same time. 'Stubborn,' the androgynous agent said mildly, running a hand through their raven hair as they opened their eyes once more, brow furrowing.

I was more concerned by the fact I could be affected by their existence erasure, but not permanently. That meant their power wasn't divine, but it still didn't make sense, unless I was misunderstanding something. Which, admittedly, wouldn't have been hard, with my limited knowledge.

'We could try that zmeu friend of yours. Burnished Death works similarly to my power, but perhaps it will work where I failed.'

I wasn't sure whether Lucian's mace would work or not, but I didn't want him to see me like this. Stupid, I know. But I didn't want to worry my friends.

'How about Breakout?' I suggested, looking at the Heads and older agent. 'Her power gives her the abilities to perform any task, right? We dress it up as a joint training exercise, and-'

'And FREAKSHOW learns our god-eyed seer is trapped and all but unable to act.' Shiftskin shook his head. 'No dice, Silva. They tried to bribe every agent of ours they couldn't brainwash or kill during the Long Watch. The fuck you think they'd do upon learning of this blind spot?'

'We might have offended them by killing every undercover agent of theirs we found outside the States.' Ying took a gourd out of a pocket I'd have sworn had been empty until then, then downed a gulp of bitter-smelling, thick green tea. 'But that was just business. We were preserving neutrality, they were trying to expand their sphere of influence where they had no place doing it.'

'Why are you telling me this now'" I asked, not knowing whether they were bullshitting me or not. What was up with the history lesson? Were they trying to distract me?

'Just wanted you to know we're not all friends in this.' Sam grinned drily. 'We'll make do with what we have.'

After they left, more agents came and went. Interrogators, counsellors, doctors, mages, precognitives and postocgnitives and necromancers. An Italian Goetia agent, bound to a demon that had been banished from Hell due to its obsession with keeping one's word, came and used his powers to detect lies to see whether Chernobog still had control over me. He'd found nothing unsettling, except, apparently, my tendency to criticise myself, though I quickly assured him that was all me.

'If you say so,' the agent, who hadn't given me his name, allowed. With his demon manifested, he looked like a male version of Sklaresia, except faceless, twice my height and with a grey, vertical line going down the middle of his body, separating his black and white sides. His horns resembled a bull's more than a ram's, too. 'Can I ask why you asked them to take away your cross?'

'I don't know if the chains would stop me from killing myself, like they stop me from using my powers or exercising my strength.' Most of my powers, that was. I could still sense lifeforce and tap into Mimir's sight, but the chains had enough power of their own to nullify my weather manipulation and lock me in place when I tried to exert myself. 'But I don't want to find out, either.'

I said that with a forced smile. Didn't want to get a stupid impulse and...

The Goetia agent nodded, beginning to walk away. 'We still have someone we want you to talk to. Don't go anywhere.'

The hellbound had already turned his back to me, so he didn't see my glare. But I bet the faceless fuck felt it.

***

It felt almost underwhelming, Hex reflected, to leave the easiest task for last. He knew some people preferred to take care of their most challenging business first, and use what remained as almost a form of relaxation, but he didn't understand it.

Like so many aspects of mankind. He also knew people claimed to hate mob rule, but defined normality as what the majority accepted. Hence him being seen as abnormal.

It was only the lack of challenge this task presented that had him dwelling on these matters, but it was better than letting his mind wander and meld with his partner's. More than usual, that was.

Nacht was...distracting.

Hex knew people called them 'partners' in ironic tones, all but nudging and winking at each other, thinking he was unaware. He was, but saw no need to respond. They  were partners, both at and outside of work.

Nacht still seethed at the whispers behind his back. As for those who mocked him to his face...well.

Being bound to the embodiment of fear opened many ways to making people cease and desist, even if all Hex had to do was not yank its choke-chain.

Compared to the things-Hex still worked as a doctor in Berlin when ARC had no need for him; he had branched into veterinarian work, too, out of curiosity, but still struggled to classify their latest kills-he and Nacht had put down in the past standard Earth days, ending the folly of the Pure had been child's play.

The Pure were a parallel version of mankind, existing in and dominating a universe whose inhabitants had never developed supernatural abilities. After spreading their influence across the stars, the Pure had sought to better themselves by removing their negative emotions.

Nacht had compared the experiment to Jekyll's attempt at improving humanity, if upscaled by thirty orders of magnitudes. Hex had been inclined to agree, for the results had been similarly upscaled.

The aether had reacted violently to whatever the procedure had been-the Impure, as the embodiments of their flaws had been named, had destroyed many records, but Hex highly doubted the Pure hadn't attempted to erase their shame too.

Nevertheless, it hadn't been his place to judge. Only to help. Shiftskin didn't want the Impure bleeding over into their reality-more abstract emotion monsters than there were stars were the last thing their universe would have needed in a relatively peaceful period, nevermind the current one.

Nacht had reacted poorly to this removal of the emotions it embodied, and had eaten the Impure to calm down.

'They were like my children, you know,' Nacht said matter-of-factly, leaning back in midair, arms crossed over the bloated belly it had created to illustrate it had recently fed.

The arms were props, too, as were the interlaced fingers.

'I suppose they could be seen that way,' Hex replied. They were in one of the Pure Council's palace's many guest suites. Having removed his long coat and slouch hat, Hex laid on his back on a bed far softer than he was accustomed to, and not just because he didn't need to sleep.

He had determined early on that luxury didn't appeal to him.

'One could compare you to a scorpion that has eaten its offspring,' he continued, staring at the reflective ceiling. He couldn't see the mundane world, for his eyes were long gone, but Nacht helpfully described their surroundings through their bond.

'Aww~ You don't have to flirt with me if you want to learn my sign, Emil...all you have to do is ask,' Nacht crooned, returning to its usual shape, a jagged, glowing white grin and pair of eyes appearing on its face.

It wasn't mocking him, he knew. Since their destruction at Chernobog's hands and subsequent recovery (in the end, the Norse gods had seemingly helped them to win. Hex would be damned before he admitted Himmler had been anything other than a maniacal moron, though), Nacht had grown more affectionate, for lack of a better term.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

It had always acted to defend him from the few things that could bypass his aura of bad luck, but now, it actually felt almost worried when intercepting such attacks.

It was, as Ned would have put it, 'bloody unbelievable'. Unlike his friend, Hex wasn't given showing emotions, but he agreed with the sentiment.

Nacht had even told him couples became closer after being separated and reunited, but he preferred not to think about that.

'Then, I would ask you to control yourself. We are going to gave a guest,' Hex said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

The Pure's Speaker to the People, their Council's spokeswoman, was tall and shapely, with pale skin, sky-blue eyes and blond hair styled in an elaborate braid.

According to Nacht, who apparently believed he cared how women, or men, looked. He would have believed his lack of reaction regarding its attempts at shapeshifting to suit his nonexistent interest during their time off-duty would have both discouraged and convinced it of his inclinations, but it had done neither.

The Speaker smiled at him when she entered, doing her best to ignore his scowling partner as she reappeared next to him using her personal teleporter.

'We have already thanked you publicly,' the speaker said, laying a hand on his, caressing his stitched fingers, for some reason. She hadn't removed the white bodysuit all Pure wore, but it still felt as if he was touching his skin. 'But I think more is in order.'

'Why?' Hex asked. 'I do not care about your culture. I only saved you because I was ordered to.'

She shook her head, still smiling, trying to ignore Nacht's growl. 'That may be so. Nevertheless...you deserve my gratitude. You remind me of my late husband, you know...'

Ah. It was one of those situations, wasn't it? 'I did not ask. Please leave.'

'My people cannot feel lust anymore,' she went on. 'But...we can still feel love,' she finished, whispering softly into his ear.

'I will make your children eat you alive,' Nacht whispered into hers, just as softly.

The speaker's departure rivalled her teleportation, for her people had modified themselves in many ways. She was fast, even while too nervous to use her devices.

'Thank you,' Hex said. 'Were you planning to actually do that?'

'Mere matricidal cannibalism, for attempting to take what's mine?' Nacht scoffed. 'You are far more eager to undersell than to praise, aren't you, Emil? Don't worry...I accept you, even like this.' It grinned. "Aren't you glad you're here, to prevent me from indulging myself?'

'It is always heartwarming to see lovers show affection,' a new, reedy voice said. 'As well as...whatever it is you two are doing.'

Hex turned to the newcomer. 'Are you here to pass on my new instructions? Why did I not receive a message?'

Equilibrium smiled thinly, hands clasped in front of herself. 'Actually, I am here to bring you some bad news, my boy. Bad, especially, for you.'

'Why you, specifically?'

'Hmm? Oh, Sam knew you would react poorly. He wanted someone able and willing to clean up after you.'

'Oh, do not try to appear mysterious, you hag. I am evil itself! Nothing you or the wendigo have to say could offend me...'

'Chernobog is back.'

Nacht did not blink or gape. It was not focusing on aping human mannerisms at the moment. It did, however, remain still, briefly. Then, its form rippled, its cocky grin returning. 'Come now, do not lie. You know better than to imply I would ever leave an enemy alive...unless I intended to. Let alone one who tried to break Emil before I could.'

'The Black God is back,' Equilibrium repeated. 'And he is not alone, if he ever was.' The old woman took a deep breath. 'He took over Silva again, and murdered five trillion Fae using his power.'

'That is impossible,' Nacht said patiently. 'I feel every negative thought in creation, for I am them, just as I am every shadow. I could not have missed that amateur's petty sadism and grudge against the strigoi if I...tried...' Nacht trailed off, its features disappearing-its version of a stony expression. '...How...? It just came in...'

'Nacht?' Hex asked sharply. His partner was almost never hesitant, and on the rare occasions it was, everyone suffered something horrible.

'Of course...how to hide from darkness, except through darkness? Like magnets repelling each other...yes.' Nacht's features returned, ivory mouth twisted into a hideous scowl. 'Fixer better do something worthwhile, now that it's his turn.' It turned to Equilibrium. 'I can feel the rage and horror in your home universe. Should we return now?'

'Probably not,' she answered. 'Not until we handle the cleanup, and discuss what to do next. Your presence could be...destabilising.'

Nacht bobbed its head in an approximation of a nod. 'Then leave us, hag. Emil and I were just about to begin what he has really been yearning for.'

'You are quite full of yourself,' Hex remarked after Equilibrium left. Nacht grinned broadly, ripping his clothes off as it cut open his stitches, tendrils slipping inside.

'You are going to be full of me, too~"'

***

Vyrt, son of a seraph and a mage, wept for his sins, and those of his allies.

It had been his grandfather's will, he knew, that he help his cousin escape, at the same time tempering David Silva. His father had even appeared to encourage him, for the first time in millennia, as had his mother's soul, bless her. He didn't know if Miranda had been in on the plot, or if Vyrt had suspected, but it wouldn't have surprised him.

It didn't make things better. Just following orders-suggestions, in this case-had never been an excuse.

And so, Vyrt walked the Red Planet, naked, body bearing the scars of mortification and covered in dust the colour of rust.

He had not scourged himself like this in centuries. The Nephilim had been angry at himself many times across his life. Children, precious wives and husbands-for angels could reshape their bodies at will, and so could he-and more, had caused him grief on many occassions.

The world's colonisation and terraforming had been abandoned, so it was a safe place for him to vent. Each of his tears flattened kilometres of ground as it fell, and his sobs wracked Mars to its core, the planet shaking in the grip of the fiercest earthquake it had ever experienced. He would repair the damage before he left.

'Why must we sin?' he whispered, to himself and whoever else was listening. 'Why do you not You fill us with Your will, and remove the capacity to sin, or at least feel guilt for it?'

Another step. Another tear.

'Why are You so cruel to him, Lord?'

***

'Heads up, now,' a chipper voice said, making me look up from my lap.

I didn't recognise the agent-ruddy-faced, with raven hair so glossy it almost shone-, and I was in such a shitty mood I couldn't even spot his division's symbol.

The newcomer looked at me, arms crossed, seemingly waiting for a reply.

'Why?' I asked. 'Ever since the Headhunt, I've only gotten fooled and hurt and jerked around-'

'Imagine suffering when you can do what we can, eh?' He smirked crookedly. 'How do people deal with it?'

I didn't like his attitude, nor the vibe I was getting from him. So, I opened Mimir's sight, and my face fell.

'...I don't even care if I'm going crazy or not anymore,' I said. 'I don't care how you got here. Are you here to gloat?' I stood up, chains making a bell-like sound. 'Well?! Am I making you laugh? If you want to drag my secrets into the light, I'm sorry, Chernobog stole your thunder. Just make a cross and kill me already.'

I stared at him as I ranted, but he never blinked once, nor did the smile plastered on his face waver.

'Fucking say something!' I snarled.

'I would advise against believing everything you see is real, David,' he said after a while, smile thinning a bit. 'To answer your questions, no, I am not here to gloat. Yes, you are making me laugh-and many others.'

'Well, at least  some people are getting a kick out of this.' I spread my arms with a sardonic grin. 'You're all welcome, you bastards.' I lowered my arms, snarling again. 'Why the fuck are you here? Why-'

'Keep at it, and you're going to wither again, David,' he said mildly, but the words almost made me stagger. 'And then, what will the people you love do? Not help you through it again, certainly.' He raised an eyebrow. 'Unless you believe ARC would let them come to you, or let you go?'

'You-' I bit my tongue. Fine. Fine. Just...calm down. I had no right to let myself go and hurt them. I sighed tiredly. 'And you wouldn't want the entertainment to end, would you?'

'Certainly not.' His smile disappeared fully now, and I was suddenly on my back, a black-clawed, crimson hand buried in my throat, wrapping around my spine. 'What would make your blood boil, I wonder? Perhaps I should take your zmeu with me when I leave.' His grin was all needle teeth, black flames flickering through. 'You have seen my niece. You know what happens to women like them down there?'

'Don't you fucking dare,' I growled, smashing my fists against his arm and face, and achieving nothing, fucking dammit. The chains kept me from hurting anyone. 'She has  nothing to do with this! She's already been...almost been...'

'I don't see the problem,' he said. 'Don't you know women who act like whores deserve to be violated? Why, they practically beg for it! Those with natural tastes, I mean. No one cares about deviants, never mind animals that should have been killed at birth.'

I cursed and screamed and hit him, to no effect, and he nodded approvingly, black-slitted yellow eyes, colder than Lucian's had ever been, gleaming. 'See? You would be powerless against me even without these shackles, yet you try to stop me...' he laughed, and it was a sound of such honest joy, I almost balked. 'All for love. This...is why we sent you back.'

He tossed me away, and I managed to land on my feet, throat already healed.

'If you want me to make you laugh,' I matched his sharklike grin with one just as hideous. 'Why don't you break me out of this cage?'

'I would, if it was up to me.' He stuck his hands in his pockets, shrugging. 'But...'

'But you can't.'

He shook his head, still smiling. 'You cannot taunt me with lies, David. I am not you.'

I swallowed an insult, knowing it would have served no purpose. 'Why'd you come here? To give your clown a pep speech?" Or was there some other purpose to this presence here'

'Now, now. Since when do hallucinations have purposes?' he asked, wagging a finger. 'Do be careful, please. If you pay me a surprise visit, I might have to make your stay permanent. And, David?' He tilted his head, one eye closed. 'Next time I yank your chain, I expect you to be immune to such...transparent provocations.'

'Wait!' It was a stupid question, but I wanted to ask it before he left, if only because I had nothing else to do at the moment. 'Why did you dress in our uniform?'

He snorted. 'Are you implying I don't work for the benefit of mankind, David?'

And then, I was alone once more.

But not for long. Aya Reem arrived after what felt like a few minutes, using the power of one of her gods or another to heal my body.

'It is a shame you can do nothing more than observe, agent Silva,' the mummy said, running bandaged hands over my body, checking to see if there were any burns left.

'Yeah,' I said. 'Sorry I can't be the tool you want.'

Aya sighed. 'It is too late to apologise for how we used you during the Headhunt. I should have tried to remove Chernobog's taint from you, not...' She pursed her cracked lips. 'I know you don't give a damn about this, but I am sorry.'

At my scoff, she leaned closer to me, so I could stare into her empty sockets. 'My gods abandoned me for staying neutral, David. If I chose to oppose them, they would have destroyed me. You are closer to your god than you realise. This is not an excuse,' Aya held up a hand. 'Just a clarification.'

As I pondered her words, I remembered our discussion before my departure, and began laughing. It was stupid, but, at the moment, I'd have taken anything.

So what if tears were streaming down my face as I laughed. 'Y-You know...with all the bullshit, I forgot to tell the Knights about your list. Guess they'll keep your stuff for a while longer, huh?'

Aya sighed, but not in exasperation. Then, to my surprise, she wrapped her arms around me. 'It appears so. Do not worry about it, David. I should've just asked Sam to fetch them. He's practically my dog, anyway.'

The mummy didn't let go, even though I didn't laugh. I was just crying now.

'I know it's overwhelming, David. Everyone's reactions-oh, yes, I've read the news. I'll have some reading material brought here-, the lies, hurt even more than the facts.' Aya took a deep breath, and I felt a pang of sharp guilt when my eyes were drawn to her chest, coinciding with the lust of my strigoi side. The dumb, perverse bastard wanted to drag Aya down and take her right there, almost as much as he wanted her to dominate him.

I should have been thinking about Mia, not...'We'll get to the bottom of this. Oberon's incompetence and laxity haven't been talked about much yet, but they will be. I'm sure the Dagda will be very interested in how the Fae sheltered a known renegade god.'

I nodded, absentmindedly, not really listening to her anymore.

'Why don't you rest a little before Hex and Nacht arrive?'

I looked at Aya just as she pressed two fingers on my forehead, then I was suddenly drowsy, for the first time in eight years.

'Whuh...' I slurred, voice thick with sleep.

'Nothing sinister, David.' The mummy smiled. Funny. I only just noticed she'd switched to my first name. 'I am just using my blessings to help you rest. Gods know you'd just beat yourself up if you stayed awake, and it wouldn't help you to face Nacht while agitated.'

I shook my head, which felt heavier than all mountains in the world put together, smiling drily. 'Why do you care?'

'I care about all of my agents, David, and everyone in the other divisions too. And, you know what? The Crypt has always been full of the broken and the lonely, the abandoned and the misfits. I am here for you all.'

I didn't know if she was tapping into her divine authority as she spoke, but I soon drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

***

'Wake up, agent Silva,' Aya said softly. I opened my eyes, looking up at Aya's dusky features, Hex's chalk-white, stitched face and the swirling, ink-black cloud that was Nacht. The mummy smiled down at me, and I felt pathetically grateful for the warmth that filled me.

I told myself it was just her blessings, making me want to obey and please her, but, honestly, with how starved for approval I was...

'Don't worry,' Nacht said, which was kind of like a serial killer telling you to stay calm while revving up the chainsaw. 'This childish excitement you feel around Reem is shared by many of your fellow agents. It's mostly artificial, because you maudlin bastards are almost all bereft of affection, which does the rest.'

'So you don't have to worry about me stealing you from your girlfriend, Silva,' Aya said in a joking tone, but squeezed one of my shoulders reassuringly as I sat up. 'I know where your heart lies. Besides, Sam would kill us both if he felt you were muscling in on his turf.'

And with that, Aya left, leaving me alone with an inhuman, unfeeling monster, and Nacht, too.

'Emil is not a monster,' the dark being said with a sneer. 'He is far too soft for his own good. Now...let us see the darkness inside you, David Silva.'