*************

Wyatt Graves

My feet return to the bricks of light that construct the bridge leading to the tome within The Cabin. I take only a moment to breathe in deeply, resolving myself to both find Abraham within Hell and to also hurry to my father. It seems as though he is being overwhelmed at the Weirs, the gates of Hell, seeing as this 'Eldest' is almost done with his job of killing him.

Extending my fingers, I leverage my mind onto the open pages, taking note of the increasingly more complex Sigil that lies inside the seamless script. More eyes have been added, yet even more links of chains have come to surround the pupils.

Instinctively, as if a brush of cold air washes across me, my spine shivers, and then I find myself staring right back at Isaac. The mighty Supreme raises a hand, patting my shoulder with a smile.

"Good. Come. Your two friends should be here soon."

Still blinking the heat out of my senses from the Fiery Pits, I follow Isaac out of the cell. But as I do so, I peer backward for a moment. And where the demon used to be, there is only a silhouette burned into the marble-like floor.

I step behind the man, letting him lead, but I don't forget to press him on that particular piece of oddness.

"What happened to the body?"

Isaac's brilliant eye radiates its luminance in my direction for a moment before answering. Even with an open mouth, he continues heading back to his office.

"Oh, that? It happens when resonances are so high, and another Sigil is imbibed. It erases the previous body, allowing the Sigil to meld with you more easily. A soul is extensively damaged when their Sigil is taken as an Angel or with resonance such as this, another key reason why Angels cannot be brought back by Her Majesty Death. At least, not anymore."

I fall silent to the information as we trudge our way back. Together, we enter the main hall of his abode or the main building of Heights, and there, I find two near-identical men standing together, the main difference between the two being one is living, and the other is dead.

Otto, widens his lips into a smile as he finds me, a familiar face amongst all the others with the Gift Of Undeath. His best friend, however, Marion, raises an eyebrow toward me. The Undead doesn't know me as profoundly as the other does.

Nonetheless, I stride forward and take Otto's open arms into an embrace, the same kind Hunters and Marshall's soldiers often use. I pat him on the back, so very glad to see him once again. We quickly end the hug as I stare at the man, Otto slinking up from behind him.

Magenta chains—the both of them, a feat far more impressive for the dead one. Otto's fetters seem to be localized around his hands, while Marion's are so evenly spread that I've never seen anything quite like it before. It's... bizarre. Though, I quickly remember all the things Otto said about him in the past and simply nod. He always said Marion was good at everything.

"You two! You look great! Angels and all!"

Otto snorts, dismissively taking the compliment. The man could never simply be praised, could he? I didn't travel with him for very long, but I did learn plenty about him. Independent, reliable, quick-thinker, yet not the most cheerful lad. Even with Marion, it seems that it's his natural disposition.

"Of course? You think we'd be any less down here?! I mean, Marion's been getting the golden treatment from Isaac! I just get whatever the leftovers are."

The other redhead, with smoldering orbs of white fire, shoulders the other roughly. The image reminds me of the very first time I ever met the two within a building inside Rustbank. These two haven't changed a bit, huh? Always them against the world.

"Oh, shut up! You always beg me to relay what he says and to read the damned books to you, dumbass! At least you can read now!"

The two immediately devolve into a verbal brawl as Isaac's remaining eye vibrates. I notice the movement, and the man nods slowly, walking away. Before he goes, I shout at him.

"Thank you! But... there is something you should know!"

The middle-aged man, who has lived for many more lives than what that would entail, twists his head slightly. Recalling the recent interactions with the Mother Below's children, I toss him a warning. And some information.

"My father is at the Weirs, fighting the demons and the bulk of the Motherbound, if I had to guess. Should he fall... things will not end well for anyone here or above. Hell will break loose."

Isaac pauses for several seconds, the thoughts moving in his head at an unknown pace as even the two idiots beside me calm. With fists raised at each other, they turn and stare at me in surprise. After all, they both know my father.

"How strong is your father?"

The Supreme responds with a question to my words. For a few beats, I don't know how to answer. That is until Aniwye's many idolatries come to mind.

"I'm told he's the best, second only to the man who ascended. I have never met him myself, but I have no reason to doubt it. After all, he was the one who pulled the Primes back to the surface for the great battle."

Again, the Supreme takes a while to answer, both the idiots utterly mute. When he does, though, the One Eyed waves his hands, bestowing a great responsibility to me. He speaks calmly and slowly as if he is not in a rush at all to get somewhere.

"Then you shall save him. At the Eighth yourself now... and your companions as they are... you would field a force rarely seen down here. Do what you can to bring your father back. With another Dominion, we could put some serious work in, especially one that would listen to reason. If Hell breaks... we will simply hold the Gate Of Death—better that than to lose all those who can fight. Oh... and take those two with you—time for them to get some real... experience. I know not the mechanism that Devil uses to hold the Weirs, but should we all fail... Well. You can imagine it yourself."

With the final word, the soul of Isaac warps in every which way before the dead man vanishes from my side in a plume of scarcely concealed Ether. Clouding my eyes with my fingers, Otto gapes with an open mouth.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

"8th Sigil? What the hell, Wyatt? Are you some kind of freak?! And... experience!? What does he mean by that? We've fought plenty! Is he fucking with us, Marion?"

The more intelligent redhead shakes his head and gives me a concealed smile. Obviously, he knows that Otto can be difficult.

"No. Isaac can see that Wyatt has been through far more than we have. Ignore that he is younger. Experience does not come from years but instead from pain. I would like to go with him. Killian Graves is a man of many mysteries that I have looked up to for a very, very long time."

I wince when Marion mentions pain, and Otto simply sighs, turning into that frustrated man once more. Grumbling, he taps me slightly with his knuckles.

"Alrighty, then. Let's get moving! You said your dear old dad is in trouble, right? Can't leave him hanging!"

Sighing to match Otto's noise, I head toward the exit as another thought enters my mind. There is someone I was expecting to see that I haven't. Birdie. Where is the Chief? Did she... did she die?

"Birdie? Where is she?"

My sudden halt in motion has the other two nearly step into me, but they are far too light on their heels ever to truly muck up something that badly. Fortunately, Otto's tone starts bright, not saddened.

"She's fine, just at Apathy. Her Power is far too useful during a siege, with the barriers and such. I don't think you'll get to see her until we get back, though... if we do."

Marion smacks Otto on the head, cursing the other redhead. Otto rubs the back of his skull sheepishly, turning silent at the pain.

"Dumbass! You die, and you don't get revived!"

For a second, the conversation sinks to an abysmal low as Marion glares at Otto, but the latter creases his lips into a smile.

"Well... that means no matter what happens, you'll have died more than me! Haha! Oh to One! Ha!"

Fuck... were Bonfire and me ever that bad? I hope not.

**************************

"Two more? That is fine. Oh... I remember this one. Yes. He can come. The other, too. Good job reaching my stature, little one. I am... I believe you... I am..."

Anwiye's words trail over themselves as she kneels, looking me directly in the eyes with her massive pupils. After a few attempts, she properly releases her emotions.

"I am proud of you. Just as I expected from... Killian's son. Now, let's go and find your father."

Her words make my chest feel warm. It's a kind of fuzziness that I haven't known since I lived together with Ma. Raising a hand, the fleshy one, I press it against my heart lightly. Otto and Marion are nearby, conversing with Silas and Virgil while Bonfire sits quietly, lost in his own internal battle. But as Aniwye shifts back to her full height, a little bit of annoyance remains.

"Do you have to call me little one? I'm not that little anymore, am I?"

Aniwye guffaws, her great big chest rumbling so loudly that the rocks and bones on the open earth of the Underworld vibrate. We're ten minutes out from Heights, but I have no doubt they heard her laugh.

Still, the Angel doesn't reply to me. She hides her answer as she orders everyone to march, still taking charge despite not being the only 8th Sigiled in the group anymore. However, Aniwye sure does still have seniority, as I haven't tested any of my new skills.

I should get on that, preferably right away, before any fights ensue. I'm sure Virgil's up for it, no?

********************

"Dammit, Wyatt! You're growing too fast! It's hard to keep up!"

I grin at Virgil as his diving Sanedges shatter against the defending fetters that are wrapped around me like a cage. Virgil sprints around me, darting to my right side with his scythe curving for my right. The moment he sinks to wedge a dagger toward me, the tightly bound and constricted chains explode outward.

Virgil adeptly parries the chains that lunge for his face and chest with his two daggers, but there are too many to protect his whole body. I hear cracks and can physically feel the injuries emerge in his arms and legs through the chains as he attempts to Flicker, only for the chains to nullify it.

He's tried a dozen times, but after the reason enhancement, the chains are no longer simply made physical. They still possess some... metaphysical properties, striking even that which is untouchable. Now, if he manages to Flicker wholly into the other dimension, he's safe, but the transitory period is what is dangerous.

In the corner of my eye, I spot the others watching us fight. It only spurs me on further as Virgil refuses to back down, leaping toward me again. Despite knowing it's not him, as he can't possibly be that dumb, I slice at it with the blade from my prosthetic.

And as expected, it's only made of Ether, the Nightwhips forming a Silhouette that somehow can hide from even my sight. It must be the work of Mask. Squinting, I flow Ether into my eyes, and then, the Silhouette reveals itself to be a fake to my eyes as well; the magenta fetters now nothing but Ether.

It seems this is an awful matchup. I have no doubt he'd kill me in an open setting, where we could run, hide, and ambush, but like this? A forced duel? He's toast. After all, I'm not alone.

"Up! 8 O'clock!"

Teaching Blodwyn how to call out directions was a brilliant move. One that even I am surprised by the fact I came up with it.

Swiping my right arm with its blades toward Virgil's appearing form, I inhale a deep breath. All the Nightwhips and Sanedges, even the reforming Silhouette, are dispelled and ripped to pieces by the swirling air.

With this, Virgil loses his edge in the air. Still, another footfall ends with a place for him to step. He pivots, soaring over my head as I send my chains to meet him. The Living Manacles strike his stomach before he can manifest any Nightwhips to guard himself or vanish into his other reality.

Blood falls to the ground as I frantically haul back the chains, worried that I hurt my friend. Virgil falls haphazardly to the ground but manages to spin, landing on his hands and knees. I sprint to him as he coughs out some blood, one of the fetters piercing his lungs.

I can see a smile hidden behind his mask, but I don't care for that as I grasp his shoulder. And... without meaning to, my mind moves my Ether on its own. It swirls to my chains as my chains turn phantasmal, invisible to all but myself.

They curl around Virgil, and with a great font of Ether stemming from my mind, a pure, concentrated shot of pain rends me in twain. I collapse to my knees, bleeding the exact wounds that Virgil had before as his injuries are now gone.

Martyr, huh? Yeah...

"Fuaack... That's gonna take some getting used to."

Virgil's eyes scour my form in the exact same worry I held for him a moment ago, that is, until Blodwyn does what he does best. The open wounds quickly fade, replaced by new flesh, new organs, and new bone.

The quiet man pats me on the shoulder as Silas laughs darkly beside me, walking up here during my cursing. The Undead speaks only the positive marks of my advancement before falling silent once more.

"Well, now we don't have to worry about healing, huh?"

Otto cuts in, wrapping a hand around the shadow's shoulders.

"I'd say... Virgil wins this one? Everyone in agreement?!"

I don't have it in me to answer, as the pain must be multiplied many times over from what was inflicted. I've been hurt before, but this feels more like when I had all my flesh burnt off fighting Hura than getting stabbed.

Bonfire joins in and... agrees with Otto as Virgil gives them a quick glare that shuts them both up.

"Yeah, I mean, it's the last one standing, right? Virgil's standing, but Wyatt is pissing himself. Makes sense to me."

"You..."

I can't even get out the words; instead, I fall quiet. Virgil sees my suffering and moves to pick me up, but Aniwye waves her hand, shunting everyone away from me with her mind. Otto and Marion still stare at her suspiciously as they've been fighting demons this whole time, but they don't move antagonistically.

"Leave him be. This was supposed to only take a minute. Instead, we will rest for an hour."

Otto picks up the slack, shouting back at Aniwye as Virgil and Bonfire nod quickly and soundly. Silas doesn't even look at the demon, simply falling onto his ass.

"You said we were in a rush? Why not just leave now? He'll be fine. The kid's tough. I was only joking."

Aniwye's single eye freezes Otto in his place; the man with the Power to turn any object into a deadly blade is unwilling even to raise a finger. Marion pulls him to a seat on the rocks to save them both from any humiliation.

My mother then crashes onto the rocky ground beside me. She is silent for a moment as I groan in pain, holding my stomach direly. As the pain gradually fades, she points my attention forward, showcasing that we are at the peak of a large hill, perhaps even a small mountain.

For a long while, hundreds of miles at least, we can see the terrain rumble over the Underworld. In the far distance, now that we are out of the Old Fields, we can see that fleshy wall quite clearly. The gargantuan construction beneath it, however, is still hard to pin down. Something must be blocking my sight. I can only hope Aniwye's eyes are good enough to pierce through that veil.

I expect her to say something about my father as we rest in silence, but she doesn't. She keeps her distance from me, several feet between our seated positions, and the demon doesn't look at me. Still, she shows her care in her own way, spouting a string of words I wasn't expecting.

"I have all her memories."

Turning to face her, Aniwye still doesn't turn to me. I don't even know what to ask as the agony writhes through me. Nonetheless, it's been several minutes, and I'm gradually regaining my physical control.

"All my Personas, when they die, I get their memories. Some are stronger than others. The more I see you... the more time I spend with you... the stronger they get. The deeper they sink into my psyche..."

Aniwye reaches toward me with a giant index finger, but it taps against my forehead so lightly, in the exact same way Ma used to when I had a headache. The moment she does, Ether sprints through my brain, the fire in my veins doused by water and lowering the incredible piercing pain by several notches.

With it, my vision clears as well. And in that vast distance, I see, beyond even Apathy, a set of doors, at least a thousand feet in height, that bear witness to a grand circular building. They are barely opened, just enough to see a bit of red light within them. The door shakes, they rumble, they squirm, but they do not open. Deep down, I know something is fighting behind those doors.

The instant my mind turns to my father, my mother admits something to me.

"I am sorry. There used to be love in my heart only for one. I see now that there are many kinds of love. It is... not something we demons know very well. Yet... I am not one to stay stagnant. I grow. I learn. Unlike my peers, I am not unwilling to look at the other races to see their benefits. And this? It makes me feel warm inside. I like it. I like it a lot. You will always be my little one. So, I will always call you that, little one. No matter how tall you grow. No matter how far you run. No matter what you become, whether it be a God or an abomination, you'll be my little one."

Aniwye falls silent, the ogre's lone eye staring outward at the bulging doors as I feel the warmth she mentions. The hour stretches endlessly as I sit with her, the longest stretch we've ever spent so close together.

She's right. It's nice to have family.