The battle of the Castel Sant'Angelo ended just before dawn. Gabriël and the angels of the Vale turned the tide. They overthrew the demons, sending the foul creatures back into the dark pit whence they came. There was only the briefest celebration when they saw none was left standing — only the most fleeting smile upon the faces of the Nephilim who survived.
Once the initial joy passed, they realised they, too, had lost. For every dozen demons they had struck down, a Nephilim lay amidst the dead. Many had suffered grievous wounds; from broken or severed limbs to heavy blood loss to venomous demon bites. But none of the wounded would die, thanks to Gabriël. His deal with Death saved countless lives, Anne Boleyn and Thomas Wyatt amongst them.

The mages and healers set out to tend to the wounded. Gabriël sent word to Raphael whilst the warriors helped where they could, either with the healers or with the cleansing of the Castel. The sooner the remains of the demons were gone, the better. The Nephilim needed to say farewell to their fallen brothers and sisters. More than one pyre needed to be built.
The city of Rome burned red, orange and yellow in the rising sun. None were any the wiser as to what had transpired within the walls of the Castel Sant' Angelo. If only they knew...

***

Anne's hand trembled as she stroked her daughter's hair. Soft dark-brown hair like her own. It framed Adeline's face perfectly. She appeared the sleeping beauty, gone to sleep for a hundred years. Only this was no fairy tale. True love's kiss could not break the villain's spell. She would never wake again.
Remy lay with his head on his mother's belly, his tiny hand on hers. Anne's tears trickled down as she looked at him. It was unfair that she survived when she had already lived her life twice. It was unjust that Remy would grow up an orphan, never to feel his mother's loving embrace or hear her gentle voice again. She was a memory now, like so many others.
Anne heard footsteps behind her. She recognised Olympe's light tread. She shut her eyes and pressed her lips together to stifle a sob.

"You should rest," said Olympe.

"Remy wanted to see his mother before..." Anne's voice broke and her words fell away.

"I could have brought him."

Olympe sat down beside Anne, but she kept her eyes shut firmly. She couldn't bear to look up at her friend.

"Je suis désolée, Anne."

"Non," whispered Anne. "Tu avais raison. C'est moi, la coupable. Je suis la seule à blâmer pour notre chagrin."

"Non, Anne, c'est le fait du Bâtard. Personne d'autre. C'est donc pourquoi je veux te demander quelque chose."

Olympe lifted Anne's chin to make her look at her.

"Make him pay," she said.

The two women embraced each other, their bond renewed in their shared grief and their promise of vengeance.

***

Gabriël stood alone on the lofty tower, looking at Michael's bronze face. The statue showed the Lord Protector fighting, gloriously charging against the invisible foe who dared to threaten the fair city. It looked nothing like him. He brushed a wayward lock of hair from his face. Only then did he see his hands and clothes were drenched in blood. Blood from the demons he had killed, blood from the wounded Nephilim he'd helped carry to the healers, blood from... Anne's daughter.
His eyes wandered to where Adeline had died. If only he had arrived sooner. One minute sooner. It could have made all the difference. But he always came too late. Michael had been a fool to make him Lord Protector. The Heavens would fall... because of him.

"You asked to see me, Lord Protector?"

Gabriël turned at the sound of the Impaler's voice. He narrowed his eyes at the man. Could he truly trust him? Why had Michael?

"Please, don't call me that," said Gabriël. "I need you to tell me everything. From the plans you and Michael made to the events of last night."

"You don't trust me," stated Tepes. "Hm, you are wise not to. A leader must always be wary of those around him."

Gabriël didn't bother with a reply. The time for politics was long past. He had to know everything if he was to understand what and who he was facing.

"In the hour of my death, Michael himself came to me," began Tepes. "I didn't understand why I had been allowed into the Vale, but he explained I was needed. He wanted to know if I was willing to commit my services to God by making good on my deal with the darkness. He would train me himself in the Vale for a few months, so I would be prepared to face whatever awaited me once I fell. Thanks to Michael's teaching, it didn't take me long to work my way into the heart of the Circles and the Devil's service."

"Did you know about Lucifer? Who he really was?"

"I suspected the Master was a Fallen Angel, and I told Michael of this, even providing a description, but I could never be certain it truly was Lucifer. It was the one secret he kept well hidden, even from those closest to him."

Dammit, why the hell didn't Michael do anything? Did he want to be sure? Or did he refuse to see it?

"How often did you meet with Michael?" inquired Gabriël.

"Only once a year," said Tepes, "on the anniversary of my death near my castle in Wallachia. We agreed it was safer to keep face-to-face contact to a minimum. I reached out to Michael through the rune he marked me with when I learned of developments in the Circles. He always acted swiftly but subtly so there wouldn't be any suspicion."

"Seems like we owe you a great deal, then."

"You owe me nothing. I merely did my duty."

"Nonetheless, I thank you. You saved many of the Nephilim by warning me of the attacks on the Sanctums and again tonight. If you hadn't come to the Vale, we would have been too late, and many more would have died." Tepes bowed his head to Gabriël, accepting his praise. "There is one thing you haven't told me yet, though. How did the demons have access to the Sanctums and the Castel? The protection spells should have made it impossible for anyone without celestial blood to pass them."

"We had some. Rasputin was given a vial and was ordered to make something so we could pass the barriers. I don't know where the Devil got his hands on it."

"I do."

Using Michael's blood to attack the very people he swore to protect... Damn you, Lucifer!

"We will need to find another way to protect the Nephilim from another attack." Gabriël gritted his teeth angrily.

"There were only four among us who took what Rasputin prepared," said Tepes. "Two are dead, and I am here with you. Only Borgia remains."

"And he was severely wounded. But won't Rasputin make more for the others?"

"He was discovered helping Anastasia Romanova escape. If Borgia spoke truthfully, and I see no reason for him to lie about this, the man has met his final death. I do not believe there is any more. The witches and warlocks of the Circles cannot replicate his work since he wrote nothing down. And they could only link so many demons to each of us for Rasputin's concoction to work on them, too. With only Borgia left, another attack on the Castel would only bring more carnage to their own numbers."

Gabriël lowered his head in silent prayer. He had known Grigori Rasputin. The deaths of the family he served had been a heavy blow. Michael had no choice but to take away the gifts God bestowed upon him, and his wings, too. It did not surprise Gabriël to learn he'd died again, risking everything for a Romanov.

"I know you do not see yourself as Lord Protector, yet I cannot ask any other; do you have new orders for me?" asked Tepes. "I cannot return to the Circles since my cover is compromised. Neither can I permanently return to the Vale as I am absent from my wings and touched by the darkness."

"Didn't Michael have anything planned for you?"

"In all honesty, we did not expect I would ever return from the Circles. I made my peace that I would either spend eternity down there or meet my demise at the hand of the Devil."

Gabriël's fingers gingerly touched the hilt of Michael's sword strapped to his hip. One way to ensure the dark would no longer influence Tepes was to cleanse him with Heaven's Fire, but Gabriël did not have the power to summon the flames embedded in the blade. His element was water, which was practically useless for that purpose.
The only option for Tepes was to remain on Earth. But where? And doing what? The Impaler couldn't stay with the Nephilim. Despite his actions that night, most knew him as a member of the team who attacked their homes. Even if Gabriël revealed the truth, they wouldn't trust him.
The few Fallen Angels that remained impartial, neither loyal to the Circles nor the Heavens, lived in seclusion. He could ask Tepes to join them. But the man was a skilled fighter with a keen strategic mind. It would be foolish to turn him away. Maybe there was a way he could help.

"How much do you know of the Dream Realm?" inquired Gabriël.

"Morpheus's world?" Tepes furrowed his brow. "Why do you ask?"

"We believe Morpheus is keeping Michael prisoner for Lucifer."

"Why would he work together with the Lord of Dreams?"

"Revenge. Michael did something to him in the past. Having him trapped in a dream with no means of escape and watching helplessly is far better than killing him."

"I see... It would explain where the Blood Countess disappeared to. No one has seen her in the Circles for some time. Breaking Michael out of his prison will be exceedingly more difficult if she stands as Lucifer's agent in the Dream Realm."

Gabriël cursed silently. He hadn't thought of that possibility. The Dream Realm was almost impregnable as it was, though he certainly didn't put it past Lucifer to have an extra security measure at hand. And the Blood Countess of all demons... That witch possessed the darkest of magic.

"As it happens," Tepes cleared his throat, "there may be something in this."

He took a bundle of papers from underneath his armour and handed them to Gabriël.

"Rasputin told me to give you these. He said you would understand."

Gabriël's eyes widened as he scanned the documents.

"This is it! This is what we need to get Michael out! Wait here for me."

***

Most of the Resia Nephilim and their surviving family gathered at Thomas's bedside. The only one missing was Olympe, who insisted on watching over the children. She kept Remy distracted with a game while Alejandro lay next to Coraline, both fast asleep, their hands clasped together. The teenager hadn't slept since the initial attack on the Sanctum and was on the verge of collapse after yet another attack. He had been on the frontline, firing arrow after arrow, keeping demons away from the mages as they cast their spells.
Anne watched anxiously as Hypatia treated her husband. She healed the bite wounds, but the poison had already done its work. Some spots on Thomas' skin blackened, causing the flesh to fester. His face was twisted in pain and he sweated profusely. The poison was slowly killing him from the inside.

"What is everyone doing? Out of the way, out of the way! Let the man breathe, for Heaven's sake!"

Raphael pushed through the crowd and set down a box with several crystal vials and a surgical kit. He glanced at Thomas.

"Demon bites?" he guessed aloud.

"Yes," said Hypatia. "I've healed them, but can't get the poison out of him."

"You've done admirably, my dear, but I believe it's time for the big guns now."

Raphael took a few vials and poured the contents together in a cup. He stirred it well, then passed the cup to Anne.

"Help him drink." He then turned to Richard and Carlos. "You two hold him; this will be excruciating."

Anne put the cup against Thomas' lips, urging him to drink. He coughed and averted, disgusted at the taste. Suddenly, his eyes shot open, and he shook violently. Richard and Carlos struggled to keep Thomas down, so Anne put her hands against his shoulders to help. As abruptly as the seizures began, they stopped. Thomas lay utterly still, his body limp and heavy, his eyes closed. The black spots on his skin faded. Then his eyelids fluttered open. A weak smile appeared on his lips when he found Anne.

"L-Looks like... you're stuck with me... for a little while longer," he spoke hoarsely.

"Oh, dear." Anne grinned back at him. "What shall I do with such a scoundrel?"

Relieved sighs echoed around her, and she lifted her head to thank Raphael, but he no longer paid attention to his patient. He was looking wildly about him as if he were searching for someone. Raphael's eyes then squinted, and Anne followed his gaze to see Gabriël approaching.

"How is he?" inquired the Archangel.

"He'll live," said the physician. "They all will, surprisingly. Most of them should have already died. Quite extraordinary, really."

"I'll tell you later," said Gabriël, turning his attention to Anne. "I'm so sorry I couldn't get there sooner for Adeline."

She lowered her head, blinking away the tears that threatened to fall.

"There was nothing you could have done for her, Gabriël. You saved many others this night."

Everyone nodded in agreement. Anne saw the faintest blush on Gabriël's cheeks. She knew he wasn't used to being the hero in the story, but that didn't mean he wasn't one. He cleared his throat and straightened his back.

"I know you are all tired and grieving, and I wish I didn't have to ask, but I trust you most for this."

"What is it?" asked Anne.

"We are nearing the endgame. The Devil's moving forward fast. His attack on the Nephilim and the Castel was only the beginning. His next target will be the Vale. I propose we take the fight to him."

Anne and the others stared at him, mouths agape. Raphael was the first to come to his sense.

"A-Attack the Circles?" he exclaimed. "You've gone mad!"

"It is mad, and that's why they won't be prepared for it."

"Neither are we! Gabriël, listen —"

"I know what you're thinking," interrupted Gabriël. "Demons thrive in darkness. To attack them in their domain is a suicide mission. But I don't plan to take everyone, and I certainly don't intend to stay long. Just long enough to keep Lucifer occupied."

"A distraction," said Richard, understanding his ploy. "To what purpose?"

"Michael disappeared when he went to see Morpheus in the Dream Realm. We believe he never left there. It would be the perfect prison for him. Morpheus kept the Horsemen there for millennia, so keeping an Archangel locked away won't be a problem, even one as powerful as Michael. I will lead a garrison in an attack on the Circles, providing the distraction you need to enter the Dream Realm and search for him."

"N-No one knows the entrance to Morpheus' world," said Thomas then.

Anne nudged him down, but her husband stubbornly waved her away. He swung his legs over the side of the cot and pushed himself up with a groan. Richard came to his aid, but Thomas insisted on standing alone.

"You better have a plan for us," he spoke harshly to Gabriël. "Because I am not leading any more of us to our deaths. We've already lost enough of our family."

"I am well aware of that, Thomas. And believe me, I would go myself if I could. But Lucifer will know something's wrong if I am missing from the battle. I will face him and keep him occupied so you can retrieve Michael."

"Only Michael, Gabriël?" inquired Raphael, emphasising his tone.

Gabriël met his stern look and sighed. "Joan may be there as well."

Anne's breath caught. Her dark eyes pleaded with Thomas, but he merely scoffed.

"We know you have no love for Michael after what he did. You'll pick Joan if it comes down to choosing between him and her."

"In a heartbeat," said Gabriël. "But despite what you may think, I understand Joan is not a priority now. We need to destroy Lucifer's forces. For that, we need Michael. The mission is to get him out. If you have time to take Joan as well, then do so, but... risk nothing for her."

"You are still willing to send us in blind. The Angel of Death is the only one who knows how to travel between each realm, and I very much doubt he'll want to help us, considering he is supposed to be neutral in all of this."

"Samael has already picked a side." Gabriël's jaw clenched in anger. "He's Lucifer's son."

The Nephilim gasped in unison. Carlos, Fleur and Esperanza looked at each other, shrugging, as they didn't understand the fuss.

"And you won't be going in blind. You have this." Gabriël held out a bundle of papers. "These were given to me by Vlad Tepes. He got them from Rasputin, who was Lucifer's right-hand man. Rasputin documented everything about the Dream Realm, including every single way in and a detailed description of the palace."

Anne reached for the documents, but Thomas stopped her.

"You can't possibly expect me to rely on intelligence gathered by demons."

"Not demons, Fallen Angels," said Gabriël.

"Who spent how many years in the Circles? Lucifer could have swayed them to the dark side," countered Thomas. "He made you defect, didn't he?"

"Thomas, enough!" reprimanded Anne. "Gabriël trusts these Fallen Angels, which is good enough for me. And from what I heard, you owe your life to one of them."

Her husband raised his brow questioningly. Anne turned to Richard, quietly asking for his help.

"It's true," he said. "I could not get to you in time; the Ripper made a fierce opponent. I saw the Impaler arrive on the battlefield through a portal as the angels descended from the Heavens. He did not hesitate at cutting de Rais' head off and even helped me carry you to safety afterwards."

"That does not mean that —"

"Thomas Wyatt, do not make me pull rank on this one!"

The discussion between husband and wife continued in silence, their glares trying to overcome each other. In the end, Thomas rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air, admitting defeat.

"We will go," stated Anne. "We will free Michael and Joan. I swear it."