I walk slowly towards the stone arch.

I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do, but I remember Azael's dream. Astoreth told her daughter she just had to imagine a place and the Door would open.

And suddenly I have an idea. The Throne sounds a lot more pleasant to imagine than the Abyss; and if I'm going to open a Door anyway, I might as well open one to somewhere nice, even if I won't live to see it.

Azael wants to challenge Astoreth anyway, right? So let's see how pleased she is to see him.

I'm only a few steps from the arch, and my heart's pounding with adrenaline and fear. My legs are shaking, and my lungs seem like they're trying to get as many breaths in before their last. But I've made up my mind, and I try to hold myself together for Damien's sake.

I turn to take one last look at him, and give him one last smile.

Almost everyone's eyes are on me, which is a good thing, because what I see at their backs takes my brain several seconds to process.

Yakketh and Maliel are inside the seal with Dante and Damien, and somehow Dante is kissing them both at the same time.

Then Damien has their swords--one in each hand--and swings them in a great slashing arc. The seal shatters. So does whatever spell Dante had on the two Fallen, and they shove Dante to the ground with enraged shrieks, drawing smaller blades from sheathes strapped to their legs.

Damien tosses Dante one of the long blades, and they catch it with surprising adeptness. Even as Yakketh lunges at them, long dagger raised to kill, Dante swings it and cuts clean through Yakketh's arm above the elbow. It falls to the ground, dagger and all, and Yakketh screams.

Damien dispatches Maliel with a move that's too fast to see, and she drops at his feet.

"Never underestimate a sex-demon, bitches," Dante says, standing. Yakketh backs away with a snarl, holding the stump of her arm. Dante nods at it. "That's for cutting me, by the way."

By this time, of course, everyone has turned and realized what's going on.

"Stop them!" Azael barks, and the rest of his minions draw their blades. Damien tosses the other flaming sword to Dante. "Go! Get to the edge of the barrier and destroy it so Oran can get through!"

Dante hesitates, clearly not wanting to leave Damien and me alone.

"Go NOW, Dante! Run!" Damien yells, and his own blade of blue fire forms in his hand. Dante nods and takes off at a sprint.

"After them!" Azael roars, and two Fallen take off in pursuit. I pray that Dante gets more exercise than I do, because Azael's people look fast, and the edge of the barrier seems a long ways off.

At least with those two gone, Maliel dead, and Yakketh literally disarmed, the odds are down to three against two, although without a weapon I don't really count.

Actually, even with a weapon I don't really count.

It doesn't matter. It's clear that this fight is between Azael and Damien now, and the rest of the Fallen stand back.

A chill goes down my spine as Azael walks forward, his own fiery sword materializing in his grasp. It seems he bears a Sephiroth blade as well. If either his or Damien's body dies, then, so will their soul.

"Damien! Be careful!" I shout.

He looks at me and winks, and a half-smile quirks one side of his mouth. I'm not sure it's a look that says 'Yes, of course I'll be careful,' but it's at least slightly reassuring and undeniably hot.

"Well, Dantalian," Azael says. "You are determined to make me kill you, it seems. So be it."

Their blades meet in a fiery clash of infernal steel. They move so fast it's like watching one of those anime battles, where there's a flash and suddenly the fighters are standing on opposite sides. I wait with my heart in my mouth for one of them to cough blood or fall over dead, but both keep standing.

The fight continues with increasing ferocity, until the two combatants are almost lost in the swirl and flash of blue fire.

Then a sound like the clang of a great bell being dropped shakes the very ground, and everything goes still. The fighters pause in surprise, and we all watch as the red dome of interwoven magic rapidly disintegrates, revealing the clean white sky above.

It starts to snow.

Dante did it, I realize. They made it to the edge of the barrier and brought it down.

Almost immediately, flashes of blue fire erupt all over the clearing, and Oran and his troops come through. In seconds, they've surrounded Azael and his remaining Fallen. Damien steps back to join them.

"Surrender, Azael. You've lost." Damien says. He has a streak of blood on his face, and his chest rises and falls with exertion, but he seems unharmed.

Alarmingly, rather than obey, Azael laughs. "Do you think I haven't planned for this as well Dantalian? Even after all this time, you learn nothing from defeat, and you are still a fool."

Before anyone can stop him, he lifts a black horn from where it hangs on his belt and blows a deep, unpleasant note.

Instantly, another set of fires flash both on the ground and above us in the sky, and Azael's legions pour forth.

~xxx~

The two sides engage, and chaos reigns. I somehow make it to Damien's side without getting killed, and he takes my hand. "Let's get out of here," he says. "Close your eyes."

To his surprise, I pull my hand from his grasp. "No--not without Dante," I say. "We have to find them."

I can see he wants to argue, but he nods and reaches for me again. He pulls me with him as he fights his way towards the edge of the battle. We're almost there, when a ball of blue fire explodes between us, and we're thrown apart.

Damien scrambles up and take a step towards me, but then he freezes.

I look up and realize I've landed at Azael's feet.

He hauls me up by the arm.

"The thing about Keys, Dantalian," he says, "is that if you lose one, you can always find another. It might take me ages, but I'm a patient devil, after all. Maybe you'll have learned your lesson by then, and won't fall in love with the next one."

He makes a swift, sharp motion with his hand, and for a moment I think he punched me in the chest. Damien's eyes are wide with horror, and when I try to draw a breath and can't, I look down. Azael's fist is wrapped around the handle of a dagger, and its blade is wet with blood. And so is the front of my tunic.

Azael lets me go and shoves me towards Damien. "A pity to waste a good Key--especially after all the trouble I went through to make it. But it's worth it to see you cry again, Dantalian."

Damien catches me and slowly falls with me to the ground. All the fight has gone out of his eyes, and all I see in them is pain.

"Alex?" he whispers, touching my face. "Alex--hold on. Please, my love, hold on. I'll get you help--it's not too late." But the desperation in his face tells me he knows it is.

Azael watches with the disinterest of a man accustomed to causing pain. "Then again," he says. "I'm not entirely without pity. Perhaps I'll kill you now, and spare you all that future sorrow."

His long blade materializes in his hand, and he steps towards us.

Instead of getting up to fight back, Damien closes his eyes and bows his head over me, and I realize he's given up.

Standing above him, Azael raises his blade and brings it down hard and fast.

But not fast enough.

The killing stroke is arrested in midair as Damien catches Azael's wrist in one hand, and I see the hilt of the Sephiroth blade in his other. The rest of the weapon is buried in Azael's heart.

"You will never hurt me, or those I love, again, Azael," Damien grates through his teeth. "And you will never see the Throne."

He gives the blade a vicious twist, and Azael's sword flickers and falls apart like paper burned to ash and blown away on the wind. He falls to his knees with a look of surprise and disbelief, and then forward onto his face, where he lies still.

Damien stares at him a moment and then he turns back to me.

"Alex? Alex, hold on. I'll get you help."

"No," I gasp. "We have to help the others."

Despite Azael's demise, the battle rages on under the lead of his lieutenants, and it's clear that our side is badly outnumbered. 

"No, Alex. You're hurt. You can't help them." He says it gently, like he thinks I don't know what I'm saying. I catch his hand and hold it. His fingers are slick with blood, and after a second I realize it's mine.

I try to draw a breath and choke. "Damien," I manage around a weak cough. "Get me to the Doorway. Please."

"What?" His face is twisted with anguish. "Why?"

I feel like I don't really have the time or the capacity for explanations right now, but I try.

"I have an idea," I whisper. "I want to open the Door."

"Alex... you'll die," he says.

I try to squeeze his hand but I don't know if I succeed.

"I'm gonna die anyway, Damien. Please, at least let me give you a chance."

He's crying, but he nods. He lifts me carefully in his arms and carries me towards the stone arch.

"Put me down," I gasp, as he steps beneath it.

He shakes his head. "Where you go I follow, as ever, my love."

I want to argue, but I also don't want to waste what little breath I have left on that, so I only nod.

I close my eyes and imagine the Throne. I imagine Isha--Astoreth's daughter--stepping through to it, and arriving there safe and unharmed. I imagine the Door opening for me.

And then it does.