POV Raphael.

Seething, I excuse myself from Jane and Lily with a curt nod, indicating for Orpheus to follow me to the bar. As we step away, I steal a glance back over my shoulder, my eyes narrowing as I watch Jane lean in close to the girl.

Orpheus matches my stride, his movements oozing a feline grace that grates on my nerves. I despise having to play nice with that smug bastard, but he is one of the more influential gatekeepers in Purgatory. Crossing him could prove...unwise.

"So, the infamous Jane Doe," Orpheus purrs as we reach the bar. "I must admit, I wasn't expecting her to be quite so..." He trails off, his lips curving into an insolent smirk.

I fix him with an icy glare as I signal for two drinks. "Difficult? Obstinate? Completely clueless about the game she's playing?" I supply flatly.

Orpheus chuckles, that low, mocking sound that never fails to make my skin crawl. "I was going to say 'intriguing'. But those descriptions work just as well."

I accept the two crystal tumblers from the silent bartender, eyeing the ruby liquid within with distaste. Leave it to the demonic court to favor beverages that look like they're filled with blood and liquid sin.

"Don't play coy with me, Orpheus," I say, fixing him with a hard stare. "We both know you have an...appetite for the difficult cases. The more broken and defiant the soul, the better, isn't that right?"

Orpheus merely smiles, that insufferable, secretive grin of his. "You wound me, Raphael. Here I thought we were colleagues, perhaps even friends." His eyes glitter with dark amusement behind his mask. "But I suppose old habits die hard when it comes to you heavenly types. Always so quick to judge, to condemn."

I feel my temper flare, the glass in my hand protesting with an ominous creak. "Don't try to turn this around on me," I say, my voice low and dangerous. "We both know the kind of games you like to play with your...charges. And if you think for one second that I'll let you sink your claws into Jane--"

"Into Jane?" Orpheus cuts me off with a bark of laughter. "My dear Raphael, you give me far too much credit. I have no interest in your little project beyond simple curiosity." He leans in close, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Although, if the rumors about her final hours are true...well, let's just say she may prove too tantalizing a morsel even for you to resist."

A searing tide of fury surges through me at his insinuation, and it takes every ounce of my self-control not to smash his face in with the crystal tumbler.

"Make no mistake, Orpheus," I bite out, each word laced with venom. "Jane Doe is under my protection, and I'll ensure she makes it through these trials unscathed. Even if I have to cut out your forked tongue to make it so."

Orpheus holds up his hands in mock surrender, that damnable grin never leaving his face. "Very well, very well. I'll stay away from your little mortal plaything...for now." He reaches out and plucks one of the glasses from my hand, raising it in a mocking toast. "To the game, my friend. May the best soul win."

With that parting shot, he turns on his heel and saunters away, leaving me seething in his wake. I down the contents of the remaining glass in one burning swallow, my jaw clenched so tightly I can feel the tendons straining.

Jane had better be on her game, because if that slippery bastard Orpheus gets his claws into her...well, the consequences don't bear thinking about.

With a muttered curse, I turn and start back towards where I'd left Jane and Lily. Jane is still leaning in close, her expression intense as she murmurs something to the younger girl. For a brief moment, a flicker of concern worms its way through my anger. Jane is nothing if not unpredictable - who knows what nonsense she might be feeding the girl's head?

I square my shoulders as I approach, readying myself to sweep in and regain control of the situation. This is precisely why I hate taking on novice souls - their ignorance and recklessness can undo weeks of careful planning in an instant.

As I draw near, Jane looks up, her eyes locking with mine over Lily's head. There is a flash of challenge in her gaze, that same stubborn defiance that has proven so vexing from the moment I'd collected her soul.

A muscle ticks in my jaw as I consider how best to proceed. Chastising her here, in front of Lily and Orpheus, would likely only embolden her rebellious streak. No, a more subtle approach is required.

I will play along with her little display for now, I decide, forcing a tight smile onto my face as I hand Jane her drink. Later, in private, I will ensure she understands the stakes, understands that her very existence hinges on her obedience to me.

This is no game she can simply rage-quit whenever the whim strikes her - it is life or oblivion itself.

For now, though, I will bide my time, watching, evaluating. Perhaps if I am lucky, Orpheus had been right - perhaps there is more to this tempestuous, infuriating mortal than meets the eye.

Only time will tell if that spark of defiance will be her greatest asset...

Or her fatal undoing.

I hand Jane her glass with practiced nonchalance, watching carefully for her reaction out of the corner of my eye. As expected, her brow furrows in confusion as she peers into the empty crystal tumbler.

"Uhh, hello? Earth to Feather-brain?" she snaps, waving the conspicuously empty tumbler in front of me. "Did you forget the minor detail of actually putting a drink in here before handing it over? Or did you guzzle it down when I wasn't looking, you thirsty bitch?"

I feel the ghost of a smirk tug at my lips as I simply stare back at her impassively. For a brief moment, I have the mind to inform her that she is more than welcome to return to the bar herself if she desires a drink. But the rational part of me knows that turning Jane loose in this vipers' nest, even for a moment, would be a risk I can't afford again.

As if sensing an opportunity to sow more chaos, Orpheus chuckles softly from where he stands with Lily. "Trouble in paradise, Raphael? Looks like you might need to invest in a tighter leash for your little pet there."

I shoot him a venomous glare, but before I can respond, Jane loops her arm through mine in an unexpectedly familiar gesture. I tense immediately, furious at her brazen lack of decorum and the liberties she seems so insistent on taking. It is all I can do not to forcibly remove her from my person right then and there.

"Can you believe this guy?" Jane complains loudly, drawing the attention of nearby patrons as she wags the empty glass in my face. "Took him long enough to get me a drink in the first place, and now he's trying to pass off an empty glass like it's the goddamn Holy Grail. Typical man, am I right ladies?"

Ethereal power crackles through my veins like lightning as Jane's insolent tirade continues unabated. I can taste the metallic tang of ozone on my tongue, feel the hairs on the back of my neck rising in response to the divine fury building within me.

Unable to tolerate her brazen defiance a moment longer, I snatch the glass from her grasp with a savage jerk of my arm. The delicate crystal protests, groaning ominously as my fingers constrict around the fragile stem with the crushing force of heavenly wrath.

"Damn, who pissed in your Wheaties this morning, Raph?" Jane barrels on heedlessly, her words each ill-conceived syllable like salt in an open wound. "All I wanted was a fucking drink, not front-row seats to the Wrath of God Uncut Edition. Guess mixology isn't part of the standard angelic skill-set, huh?"

She is a maelstrom of chaos and petulance, raw and undisciplined in a way that sets my immortal soul aquiver with aggravation. It takes every ounce of iron restraint not to shake her until her mortal teeth rattle, to physically compel her obedience to the cosmic order I embody.

But outward discipline stays my hand, if only barely. I am an avatar of divine purpose in this fraying reality - to unleash the full force of my celestial nature upon one insignificant, squandering soul would be tantamount to cosmic overreaction. A beheading to address a solitary mosquito's audacity.

So instead I turn away, gritting my perfected teeth so tightly the hinges of my jaw creak in protest. I will not be goaded into an excess of emotion by this uncouth wretch. I am a being of higher purpose, commissioned to see her through these trials whether she appreciates the honor or not.

As the disapproving looks of nearby guests caress my statuesque form, I forcibly master my features into an impassive mask, betraying nothing of the maelstrom churning within.

Let them whisper and gawk - they understand less than this defiant wretch what cosmic dances are being staged here.

Dragging Jane along in my implacable wake, I make for the bar once more, half-leading and half-pulling her uncooperative form behind me. I will not be disgraced again by her ignorant antics. If she insists on debasing herself, I will at least ensure she does it in proper privacy.

"Get her a double shot of the hard stuff," I ground out through gritted teeth to the petrified bartender, punctuating my command with the ominous crack of abused marble as I slam Jane's glass down on the lacquered surface. "And make it snappy, if you value your continued existence in this realm or any other."

Jane, of course, remains obliviously defiant. "Well, while we're making requests, any chance I can get a little paper umbrella in mine? Maybe a curly straw? No? What about one of those little plastic mermaids, really class the place up?"

Only when the drink has been uncomplainingly refreshed do I turn back to Jane, lips peeled back from my teeth in a cold facsimile of a smile.

"Drink," I command with implacable authority, every syllable dripping with the terrible weight of my office. "And for the love of all that is holy and unholy, Jane...shut your mouth for once in your misbegotten existence."

For once, the mortal falls mercifully silent, seemingly cowed into temporary obedience. Perhaps there is a flicker of sentience behind those insolent eyes after all. My fingers uncurl from around the glass stem as I slide it across the bar towards her waiting hand.

Let the lesson be learned - I am not some mere libertine to be disrespected at her whimsical leisure. My role is ordained by powers beyond her comprehension, and I will not hesitate to remind her of that immutable fact as often as necessary.

Whether Jane Doe heeds that reminder or not, however...well, that remains to be seen. And in this game of eternal stakes, her willful ignorance could very well be a fatal miscalculation.

I regard Jane coolly as the barest tremor of obedience finally stills her acidic tongue. Insolent wretch that she is, at least she seems to recognize the implicit threat in my tone and bearing. For now.

Fixing her with an imperious stare, I say in clipped tones, "Well? Anything useful come out of that little heart-to-heart with Orpheus' jailbait over there? Or were you too busy braiding friendship bracelets and lamenting your shared generational ennui?"

Jane blinks owlishly for a moment before squaring her shoulders, jutting out her chin in that defiant way I am rapidly coming to loathe.

"You shut your fucking mouth," she snarls, her voice descending to a furious whisper. "That 'jailbait' has seen more shit in her short, miserable life than you could fit into that stuffy, sanctimonious head of yours. And if you think for one fucked-up second that I'm going to play along with using her trauma as some sort of twisted recruitment tactic? Think a-fucking-gain, bucko."

I regard her balefully for a long moment, feeling the familiar stirrings of disgust at her short-sighted bleeding heart. Does she truly believe kindergarten platitudes about virtue and innocence will serve her here?

That the path to victory in these trials can be won without sacrificing a few more paltry mortal notions like trust or decency? Worse, does she somehow labor under the delusion that this is all just some convoluted test of character, rather than a zero-sum game of oblivion versus reincarnation?

"This is not a kindergarten morality play," I say at last, each word clipped and precise like the report of a firing squad. "Lily is a game piece, a tool to be used in service of a higher goal. One that, need I remind you, holds your very soul in the balance."

Leaning in close until my lips are a hairsbreadth from her ear, I allow the full weight of my immortal presence to bleed into each precisely measured word.

"You still don't understand what you've stumbled into, do you?" I murmur, my voice soft and brimming with dark promise. "This is a crucible, Jane. One designed to burn away every last scrap of weakness, of sentimentality, until only the purest, deadliest weapon remains."

I pull back enough to capture her gaze, holding it imperiously as the gravity of my pronouncement sinks in.

"So what's it going to be, Jane Doe?" I demand, arching one imperious brow. "Weapon or cannon fodder? Blade or...broken toy?"

For the span of a fevered heartbeat, Jane trembles beneath the onslaught of my words, her defiance wavering like a guttering candle flame. I can sense her reeling in mute shock, the foundations of her worldview fracturing under the weight of such implacable reality.

In that moment, stripped of her comfortable delusions and forced to confront the obliterating underpinnings of existence as they truly are...in that moment, I know I have shattered her.

The knowledge brings me no pleasure, no sense of vindictive triumph. I am a weapon that exists beyond such petty emotional qualms. If Jane chooses the path of compliance, she will learn that fact soon enough, transcending to that mercurial equilibrium beyond mere mortal pathos.

And if she balks...well, then I will be forced to apply other, less palatable measures to secure my inevitable victory. There can be no compromise where the fate of my station and celestial identity hangs in the balance.

The silence stretches between us, ripe with unspoken ultimatums and the scent of shattered preconceptions. Jane's jaw works silently, her lips parting with infinite reluctance in mute acquiescence.

But before she can speak the words to seal her capitulation, a long, dolorous note echoes through the ballroom, arresting every whispered conversation and sidelong glance in its wake.

As one, both Jane and I turn towards the source of that reverberating clarion - and feel our immortal souls lurch in instinctual dread.

For there, upon the raised dais where the celestial and chthonic thrones hold court in gruesome apposition, Fate himself has risen to his full, staggering height.

And as he lifts one slender hand in an unmistakable gesture of command, the room falls into an awed hush so profound I can hear the thunder of my own celestial being pulsing in my ears.

Jane tenses infinitesimally against me, a tendril of her unvoiced fear lashing across our fraught connection like an electric filament. But I pay her mortal trepidation no mind.

My attention is utterly transfixed upon the figure of Fate, every immaculate fiber of my being yearning towards his unspoken decree with the unerring focus of a flower straining for the sun.

For you see, Fate is more than just another primordial entity to be placated or outmaneuvered as one plays these eternal games. No....in that singular moment of mounting trepidation and swelling expectancy, Fate is the only point of true coherence in this entire kaleidoscope of half-dreamed realities.

He is our prime mover, author, and inescapable terminus rendered incarnate in one impossibly perfect form.

And as his supernally beautiful features part in a hushed exhalation, every damned and consecrated soul in that hushed ballroom leans imperceptibly forward, holding their collective breath for the words that will bind our fates anew...

Fate's voice, when it comes, is a symphony of contradictions - soft as a whisper yet resonating with the force of a thousand thunderclaps, ancient as the cosmos yet fresh as the first dawn. It washes over us like a tidal wave of pure, undiluted power, and I feel Jane shudder against me as its full weight crashes down upon her mortal soul.

"Welcome, wayward children of the cosmos," Fate intones, his eyes sweeping across the assembled throng with omniscient intensity. "The time has come once more for the great game to begin anew. Let the Judgment Day Trials commence!"

A ripple of excitement - tinged with fear - courses through the crowd. I feel my own immortal essence thrum with anticipation, even as I tighten my grip on Jane's arm. This is it. The moment we've been preparing for, the crucible that will determine not just Jane's fate, but my own standing in the celestial hierarchy.

Fate continues, his words weaving a tapestry of cosmic significance. "Each lost soul here tonight stands at a crossroads - oblivion or rebirth, damnation or salvation. But make no mistake, the path to redemption is fraught with peril. Only those who prove themselves worthy will earn the right to walk the mortal realm once more."

His gaze sweeps across the room once more, and for a heart-stopping moment, I swear his eyes lock with mine. A jolt of recognition passes between us, and I feel the weight of eons press down upon me. In that instant, I know with bone-deep certainty that Fate remembers every trial, every soul I've guided - or failed to guide - through this cosmic gauntlet.

"To the gatekeepers," Fate says, his voice taking on a sharp edge, "remember your sacred duty. You are not here merely to shepherd these lost lambs, but to test them, to push them to their very limits. Show no mercy, for the universe certainly won't."

I straighten imperceptibly at his words, feeling a surge of vindication. This is what I've been trying to hammer into Jane's thick skull since the moment I collected her wayward soul. Perhaps now she'll finally understand the gravity of our situation.

But when I glance down at her, I'm taken aback by the fire blazing in her eyes. Far from being cowed by Fate's pronouncement, she looks... invigorated. Challenged. Ready to spit in the face of cosmic decree itself.

For a moment, I'm caught between exasperation and a grudging spark of admiration. This impossible, infuriating mortal continues to defy my every expectation.

Fate's voice pulls my attention back to the dais. "And to our esteemed contestants," he says, a hint of dark amusement coloring his tone, "know this - the trials ahead will strip you bare, force you to confront the darkest corners of your souls. Many of you will falter. Many will fall. But for those who persevere, who prove themselves worthy of a second chance at life... the rewards will be beyond your wildest imaginings."

A hush falls over the room as Fate pauses, his next words heavy with portent. "Let it be known that this cycle's trials will be unlike any that have come before. The very fabric of reality trembles on the precipice of change, and your actions here will ripple across the cosmos in ways you cannot begin to fathom."

I feel a chill run down my spine at his words. This is unprecedented. In all my millennia of service, I've never heard Fate speak of the trials in such terms. Something monumental is brewing in the celestial spheres, something that could alter the very nature of our eternal dance.

"And so," Fate concludes, his voice rising to a crescendo that seems to shake the very foundations of reality, "let the games begin! May the most worthy soul claim victory, and may the cosmos tremble in the wake of your choices!"

With a gesture that defies mortal description, Fate tears a hole in the very fabric of space-time. The rift yawns before us, a swirling maelstrom of possibility and peril.

I turn to Jane, my grip on her arm tightening to the point of pain. "This is it," I hiss in her ear, my voice urgent and brooking no argument. "Whatever happens next, whatever nightmarish landscape we find ourselves in, you follow my lead. Do you understand?"

For once, Jane doesn't offer a sarcastic retort. She simply nods, her jaw set in determination. "Let's do this," she says, her voice steady despite the fear I can sense thrumming through her.

As one, we step forward, allowing ourselves to be swept up in the cosmic current. The last thing I see before reality dissolves around us is Fate's enigmatic smile, full of secrets and portents I can only begin to guess at.

And then we're falling, tumbling through an infinity of possible worlds and shattered realities. The first trial awaits, and with it, the chance to forge Jane Doe into the weapon I need her to be - or watch her shatter against the anvil of cosmic indifference.

Either way, there's no turning back now. The game is afoot, and the stakes have never been higher.