Anyone passing the Devil's private rooms immediately turned around, fearing what they heard inside. Even the bravest soldier and the most vicious demon did not dare linger. A bull in a china store would not wreak the havoc Lucifer had in his chamber. The drapes lay shredded on the floor, as did his sheets. He had stabbed his pillows so violently that the goose-feathered fillings spilt out. The furniture lay broken apart in pieces or burning in the fireplace.
Finally, Lucifer steadied himself, leaning against what remained of his table and panting heavily. A goblet of red wine appeared in his hand, and he took a drink. But his mind kept reeling back to Gabriël, and he threw the cup against the door. The dark liquid slowly dripped onto the floor.

It's a lie, he thought bitterly. It has to be. Gabriël only cares about Joan and their child. There is no way he and Michael are lovers. I would have seen it. I would have known about it. Michael wouldn't dare break his own rules.

He knew it couldn't be true, but a little voice inside his head made Lucifer pause. Michael always cared for Gabriël. More than for any other angel or Archangel in the Vale. When he needed counsel, Gabriël was the first person Michael went to. When he felt lonely, Gabriël was the one he turned to. 
Lucifer recalled the morning in the training room when he had taken over Gabriël's mind and body. He had made Gabriël kiss Michael then. Michael had held him off eventually, but not at first. And the way he had looked at Gabriël... Lucifer had recognised that look, for it was the same way Michael had once looked at him. Caring. Yearning. Loving.
He quickly discarded the idea. Michael may have feelings for Gabriël, but Lucifer was certain it wasn't mutual. Gabriël's actions with Joan were a testament to that. She was the one Gabriël loved, and none other. But there was, of course, a way to find out the truth. All Lucifer had to do was force every single memory Michael had about Gabriël out of him so he could see for himself. And he knew exactly how to do so.

***

Joan was barely gone when Michael turned to find Lucifer standing underneath the light in the middle of the dark room. He kept a safe distance from his former lover and waited anxiously, but Lucifer did not come closer and just glared at Michael. If looks could kill...

"You truly are a fucking hypocrite." Lucifer sneered then. "You could not bear to see me with another, so you murdered my son, lied to everyone, and banished me from the Vale! Yet when your new lover does the same, you allow him to have it all!"

My new lover? What is he talking about?

Michael hid his confusion, keeping his expression blank. Lucifer walked toward him, eyes shooting fire at the Archangel.

"There's no point in denying it, Michael. You forget, I still have a hold on your precious Gabriël."

"Ah, of course. And what exactly has he told you?" asked Michael airily.

"Everything! How you were together with him. How you met him in hidden places in the Vale. The stolen glances in the crowds. Your meeting with him in the Sanctum at Resia."

Why would he—wait... Gabriël, you genius!

"Show me that last time you spoke to him," demanded Lucifer. "Now!"

The Devil crossed the remaining distance between them and grabbed Michael roughly by his arm. The room spun as he forced Michael's memories to surface. As the images at Resia took shape, Michael thought about the kisses in the library, how he had felt then, and how Gabriël had acted towards him. But he added a little something. He prayed with all his might the manipulation of his memory would work, just like it had last time.
A fireplace appeared next to Michael. It took a while for the shapes and figures to sharpen, but they eventually became the Sanctum library, with two Archangels standing in the middle of the room. As he looked at himself talking to Gabriël, Michael held his breath. He recalled this moment so well. It was mere seconds after he had offered the position of Lord Protector to Gabriël.

"What I want is for you to return home," said dream-Michael, "and take up your rightful place."

"My... Michael, I-I'm not a warrior. How can I —?"

"I will guide you. Teach you what you need to know. And the others will support you as well. I would not be suggesting this if I did not believe you worthy, Gabriël. You can do this."

Michael glanced over at Lucifer. The Devil was silent as he observed the scene, but his eyes held a murderous look.

"Don't," whispered dream-Gabriël as dream-Michael's fingers caressed his jawline.

"If it had not been for you, I would not have survived and made it this far. Even now, I do not know how I make it through the day if you are not at my side. I am sorry for the mistakes I have made and for disappointing you. You deserve better than me, so let me offer it to you, Gabriël. Let me help you. You are a greater man than I will ever be and have earned this many times over. And I know it will take some time for you to trust me again and for us to be together as we were. But do not ask me to just leave you behind. Please, I implore you; come home with me."

It worked! Michael had that moment etched in his memory, and it hadn't happened like that. Not entirely, anyway.

"Do what your heart tells you to do. You always let it guide you."

"My heart has brought me nothing but pain lately," responded dream-Gabriël.

"Even so, you must follow it. You are the purest of us all, Gabriël."

"Is that what attracts you to me?"

"Among other things."

Lucifer's eye twitched, and his lips pinched into a thin line as the figures kissed. Michael pretended not to notice and hid his enthusiasm. His memory had skipped the first kiss, the one that Gabriël had instigated, going straight into the second one—their actual kiss. Only this one was far more intense, passionate and long, with their bodies pressing against each other in slight grinding motions. When they separated, they held each other in an intimate embrace.

"Promise me you will be careful?" asked dream-Michael as he played with dream-Gabriël's hair.

"Of course, I will."

"I mean it. You mean more to me than you could ever realise. If any harm were to befall you —"

"Do not worry about me."

"Too late."

The fleeting brush they'd shared in real life became another kiss here. Not as heated as the first, but still a kiss between lovers saying goodbye. When dream-Michael walked away, the library and all it held faded. 

"Show me everything that ever happened between you two." Lucifer turned to Michael, jaw clenched and eyes frenzied.

"What good would that do, Lucifer?" 

"EVERYTHING, MICHAEL!"

Michael sighed.

"Very well then. But remember, you wanted this."

He thought back to every dream he ever had of Gabriël and wished for them to be real. That they were happy memories instead of figments of his own imagination. The room spun fast as each image came to life. Gabriël comforting him after Lucifer fell. Them talking, riding, flying, swimming, laughing together. A first lingering kiss. A second more passionate, going on to Gabriël pushing Michael against the wall of his bedroom as they stripped each other of their clothes. Michael pushed it further and imagined them in the place that had once been his and Lucifer's, both before and after it became a hidden underground cavern. On and on it went.
For some reason, Michael even thought of his jealousy of Gabriël's love for Joan. He was amazed at how accurate every vision was, just like he willed them to be. And Lucifer believed all of them. With every fake memory they saw, his outrage grew. Michael understood why Gabriël had suggested an affair between them. Lucifer's anger made him unpredictable, but he also made mistakes. Gabriël undoubtedly counted on that to happen.
At the sudden snap of Lucifer's fingers, the images around them disappeared abruptly. Michael prepared himself, expecting the Devil to attack him. But Lucifer walked away from him, halting at the edge of the light. The brightness illuminated the left side of his face as he turned back to Michael. The right was cast into the shadows.

"You told me you didn't hate me. That you only hated what I have become. Yet you cast me out and offer Gabriël everything. You kill my child and let his live. How is Gabriël different from me, Michael? How could you forgive him but not me?"

Michael gaped at Lucifer. He had never heard him speak like that, with a voice so broken and near inaudible sobs penetrating between the words. Not even as an Archangel. He realised that, underneath the façade of the heartless Devil, Lucifer still held feelings for him. Other than vengeance, bitterness and anger. There was an ache, but also... still...
Michael's heart shattered just like it had all those centuries ago when he had banished the man he loved. He wanted to take Lucifer in his arms and confess it was all a lie, that he had been the only one. But he knew he couldn't. Gabriël had set this up for a reason. He had to see it through.

"You know why, Lucifer," said Michael. "I love him more."

The Devil remained perfectly still, staring back at Michael in deafening silence. Then he vanished, only to reappear behind Michael. He kicked him in his knee, and Michael fell to the floor. Chains materialised around his upper body, making it impossible for him to move. He groaned as Lucifer gripped his hair tight and pulled his head back. A dagger appeared at Michael's throat. The blade's tip pricked his skin. Blood trickled down. How was that possible?

"I don't know how you're manipulating these memories," hissed Lucifer, "but you are. I know you are. Your little conversation with Joan never happened. None of this has!"

"Believe what you want," said Michael, straining, "but it will change nothing you have seen."

"LIAR!"

Lucifer slowly slit his dagger down Michael's throat to his chest. The Archangel struggled, but it was futile. The chains held him down. He was at the Devil's mercy.

"I'm going to let you in on a little secret, Michael. It is said that your subconscious warns your dream self to wake up when you have a nightmare. Because it knows that if you die in a dream, you die in real life. It sounds farfetched, but I'll admit... I've been dying to test that theory myself!"

Just as Lucifer raised the dagger to plunge it into Michael's heart, a burst of golden-speckled light appeared between them. Both men averted to shield their eyes. Lucifer screamed in pain and dropped his weapon. Michael squinted to see the hilt glowing like it had been lying in a forge. 
The light grew brighter, enveloping them both. When the chains around Michael's body evaporated, he quickly rolled away from the Devil and got up on one knee. His breath caught when he saw what was happening. Lucifer, still howling, clutched his face with both hands. Blood seeped through his fingers. Michael felt an overwhelming urge to help him, but he disappeared before Michael could leap to his feet.
The blood on the ground burned away as the light died. Footsteps echoed throughout the room. Michael turned toward the sound and was surprised to see Joan's daughter running to him. The little girl jumped into his arms, nearly making him fall back as she held him in a tight embrace. 

"Yes, we did it!" she exclaimed in jubilation.

"We?" Michael nudged her back and held her by her shoulders. "Who is 'we'?"

"Mommy came back to the room, but she couldn't get in. She told me to help you."

"How? How did you do this?"

"The light."

Michael looked at her in awe, scanning every inch of her. The scar on her cheek had grown bigger. Little veins crept out from the wound. And her eyes held a peculiar golden shimmer. He pinched his brow in a pensive frown. 

The light... Can it be?

***

Joan awoke with a gasp. She scrambled out of bed and hurried out of her room, ignoring her maidservant's startled cry as she ran past her. She was certain Leonora and Ragazzino would come after her, but she didn't stop to wait for them. Her dream had been too real to ignore. Michael was here, and he was in trouble. Now wasn't the time to hold a grudge. If the Lord Protector of the Vale died, the Heavens were doomed. She had to get to him before it was too late.
Joan finally reached the door that held the crystal case and — presumably — Michael's body. She kicked and pushed to force it open, but it was shut tight. There was only one thing she could do. Stepping back, Joan put her hand on her belly and put a hand on her swollen belly.

"If you can hear me, go help him," she spoke to her unborn child. "I can't get in, but you can. Help Michael. But be careful. Lucifer works from the shadows; he will use those. Angels are creatures of light. Use the light."

A faint flutter and then nothing. Joan waited anxiously with bated breath. Leonora and Ragazzino finally caught up with her, but she quickly motioned them to be quiet. The pair looked at each other in confusion, but did as she asked and held back.
It wasn't until Joan felt the baby move again that she exhaled in relief. She did it. Somehow, her daughter saved Michael. Joan leaned against the wooden frame of the door and stroked her belly. The baby reacted to the loving caress with a tiny kick, making Joan smile.
She held back a sob as it dawned on her that she had actually seen her child. Her daughter, who had her father's eyes. Gabriël's calm. His strength. If only she could share this with him. 

"Joan? What happened?"

Leonora's voice brought Joan back. She looked at the maidservant and the boy standing next to her. Could they be trusted? They were as much a prisoner as Michael was. Perhaps they knew of a way to help. She had to at least try.

"The Lord Protector of the Vale is kept prisoner inside this room," said Joan. "I saw him."

"Wh-What?" All colour drained from Leonora's face. "How did you —?"

"Doesn't matter. I need to free him."

Leonora exchanged a look with Ragazzino before speaking, "Joan, even if you could get to him, you'd still be stuck here. Michael cannot leave without Morpheus' permission."

"I'll find a way."

"There is no way. Because of this." Leonora showed the winged poppy mark on her arm. "Morpheus brands any slave and prisoner with this. He controls us with it. Those he keeps awake to serve him are forbidden to speak their true names or reveal anything that may lead others to discover who they are. If we dare venture further than the garden without Morpheus' permission, the mark closes and makes us sleep forever. Some of us have tried to cut and even burn it off, but it just reappears. The only way Michael can leave is if Morpheus himself removes the brand."

"Then I'd say it's time the Lord of Dreams and I have a little chat."