Morpheus stood on his balcony, gazing into the endless night that reigned his domain. He couldn't get the Fallen Angel's words out of his head. Not because of how or what she said (though her impudence irked him immensely), but because she made Morpheus realise the one thing he had been trying so hard to deny — he had become a pawn.
Nothing was his own anymore. Everything he had, everything he was, was controlled by those bastards from Hell. Nothing the Devil and his monstrous son did was to his benefit. What had he gained from being in league with them? What would be his reward?
The Horsemen were at long last gone, but the Lord Protector turned out to be right. The mortals suffering from their influence no longer dreamed. They stayed awake, too afraid to die in their sleep. And when they did finally succumb to exhaustion, their minds and hearts no longer created the necessary escape. They were empty vessels, living machines of flesh and blood, stuck in survival mode. They lacked... soul.

Damn them... damn them all! What good are dreams and nightmares if no one can experience them? What good is my Realm of eternal night if the darkness from the Underworld threatens to wrap everything in despair? I am as much a slave as the wretches serving me!

Morpheus banged his fist on the balcony, his blood boiling, outraged that those vile creatures had just dared to come into his Realm to destroy the world and work he had spent millennia creating. No more. This ended now.

***

Something was wrong. Lucifer sensed it immediately. It wasn't Michael. He was still trapped in his prison in the Dream Realm; he had seen him only hours ago after the battle of the Castel Sant' Angelo. And it wasn't Margaret. She was lying in bed beside him, half-naked and still asleep, exhausted from their wild love-making. No, what Lucifer sensed wasn't a person; it was... the Circles!
Lucifer hurried to his window, ignoring Margaret's surprised exclamation when she awoke to his sudden movements. He scoured the bloodied fields, the burning planes and the mountains of brimstone until he saw something in the far distance, at the very borders of Limbo. His eyes squinted, then widened in shock and disbelief when he realised what was happening.

"That fool! What the hell is he thinking?"

"Lucifer?" Margaret called to him from the bed. "What is it?" 

"Stay in this room," he told her as he rushed to his wardrobe to take out his armour. "Lock the door behind me and keep away from the window. I have to go deal with someone."

He called for a servant and ordered that he immediately go to Borgia to tell him to prepare for battle. Margaret began to understand the severity of the situation and quickly covered herself with a dress robe.

"Who would be stupid enough to attack Hell?" she questioned aloud when she went over to help her husband.

"Someone who has clearly forgotten what he stands to lose," replied Lucifer grimly. "I'll just have to remind him."

He strapped the last of his armour on and turned to Margaret, who instantly grabbed his face and brought him down to her to kiss him. The silver pendant he gave her glowed at her bosom when their lips touched.

"Be careful," she whispered. "I've only just found you. Don't you dare leave me again."

"Never, my love."

Lucifer pressed his lips once more to Margaret's mouth before tearing himself away from her. He strode out of his chamber, his sword already in hand. That little Archangel was becoming more and more of a nuisance. High time dear Gabriël learned his place.

***

A figure with wings as black as night stood at the top of the Devil's palace, looking out over the Circles, envisioning all the changes he would make when the fighting suddenly began.

Well, well, isn't this interesting? Either Gabriël has finally completely lost his mind, or I seriously underestimated his abilities. I wonder if dear old dad will realise the plan that's afoot. I suppose I could save ourselves a lot of trouble and get the Fallen Angel right now. But I'm curious to see this play out. And I especially want to see what Borgia does. He may not be so different from Gabriël, as he likes to believe. Nor my father, for that matter. Men in love... revolting. Oh well, they can all have their little reunions. It'll make their suffering afterwards so much sweeter.

***

Against all odds, Gabriël and his warriors broke through the Second Circle. There was a lot less resistance than the angels had counted on. The downtrodden souls stuck in Limbo let the angels pass as soon as they descended through the craters of the Sicilian Etna, without as much as looking at them. They didn't care what happened; it mattered little to nothing to their plight.
By the time the first demons and beasts noticed something was amiss, it was already too late. The angels used the devastating winds that blew through the Second Circle, creating a vacuum with their wings, and swiftly swept all on the ground away, blowing them further into Hell. The few souls that managed to scramble up sought refuge, glad of the momentary reprieve of the never-ending punishment for their lustful sins. They watched as the angels prepared to defend themselves from the massive horde of creatures.
There was a tangle of feathers, blood, teeth and claws. The monstrosities from the Circles fought ferociously, biting, tearing and ripping at everything that stood in their way, including their own. Whereas the angels worked together and attacked with precise accuracy. It wasn't long before the bodies piled up.

Gabriël made sure he stayed in the middle, soaring above the others, so he was visible to them, using Michael's sword and his wings to keep the beasts at bay. His eyes kept flickering towards the palace that stood in the frozen heart of the Circles. He held his breath when he saw the legion coming. These were not lower demons and beasts like those they were already battling. These were flesh and blood, led by none other than the Borgia Bastard and Lucifer himself.
Gabriël signalled the angels below him. They quickly finished the remaining beasts off and came to stand in one of the formations Michael had drilled relentlessly in them. To Gabriël's great dismay, he saw he had already lost a fifth of his forces, with another fifth seriously injured and unable to fight, an Archangel among them. He ordered those closest to the wounded to help them and get out of the Circles. Many refused, wanting to stay and help, but Gabriël wouldn't have it. They still had a few seconds. Those few seconds would make the difference between life and final death.

Less than half of Gabriël's forces remained behind. Fiendish, grotesque soldiers came charging at the angels at full speed, riding on horribly mutilated horses that foamed at their mouths at the very sight of the blood already spilt, roaring and snarling and shrieking savagely.
Utter chaos ensued when the white and black forces of Heaven and Hell finally clashed together.

***

Eve and Azrael finally managed to pull Michael back from the vision of the Castel Sant' Angelo. They brought him to the tree at Eden, where they knew he would find a small measure of peace after witnessing the aftermath of the battle at the Castel. Michael was grateful for this; he would never forget the image of the pyres. 
He had never stopped to think about the consequences of the war he had been training his entire existence for. He had always focussed on defeating the enemy. Kill the demons and creatures from the Circles and destroy the darkness. That had always been the goal. But now that he had felt angels die and seen the grief and sorrow among the Nephilim, Michael started to consider the cost. Every angel in the Vale, the artistas, the physicians, the warriors... everyone Michael knew personally, was at risk of dying again. What would happen then?

He looked down at the little girl sitting beside him, her head leaning against his arm and her knees pulled up to her chest. Eve wasn't even born yet, and already her future was so unsure. What would happen to her? Would Lucifer allow her to stay with her mother? Would Joan even survive giving birth to her? She was a Fallen Angel; she had no powers of her own. Could her now mortal body handle the delivery of a celestial being? What if she couldn't? And Gabriël... If Lucifer or Samael harmed him and he died too, then...
Eve suddenly gripped his arm tightly. She drew in her breath, and her eyes widened.

"Eve, wha—?"

Michael's words were cut short when he felt a stabbing pain in his body. It was just like before, during the attack at the Castel. His heart raced wildly. He leaned back against the tree, his fingers digging into the ground.

"Wha-What... is... happening?"

"A... Another battle," he heard Azrael's laboured response from the other side of the tree. "G-Gabriël is leading the angels in... an attack... on the Circles."

"What? Wh-why? No... T-They will die! They will all... die."

"N-not all. They... understand the risk. Michael, t-trust Ga — He has — Nephilim a-are c — a div-sion..."

Azrael's voice died away. Eve's grip on Michael loosened. He turned his head to her, but saw she was gone. Michael fell back when the tree disappeared from behind him. But instead of hitting the ground he sat on, he kept falling. Further and further down, until...

Michael smacked down on the hard stone floor. He groaned from the sudden impact and pushed himself up. He looked around, noticing the drapes, and realised he was no longer in the void that had been his prison for so long. A figure came toward him, and Michael froze when he recognised none other than Morpheus himself, standing over him with his hand held out to him.

"Good day, Lord Protector. I apologise for this hard-handed return to reality, but I find the time has come for you and others of your kind to leave my Realm."

***

These were his people once. He had been part of this army, training with them to prepare for the fight against the darkness. Now that he faced them as their enemy, Lucifer felt a part of himself whither away. He had believed that part had died a long time ago. How wrong he was.
None of the angels who had joined Gabriël in this fool's quest was in the Vale when he was still an Archangel. He didn't know any of them. Yet he grieved each when they fell dead at his feet. 
Lucifer searched furiously for Gabriël. He saw two pairs of ivory wings amidst the anarchy of battle, but neither belonged to the Archangel he was looking for. Suddenly, he saw him. 

That idiot was right in the middle for everyone to see. He saw Borgia attempt to reach him, but two angels blocked his way and attacked him as one. Lucifer immediately recognised Michael's skill-set in their movements. He had trained them personally. He had trained them all.
Fortunately, Lucifer had done the same with most of his generals. Private training sessions so they would know how to counter every one of Michael's moves should they face him in battle. The only one whom he hadn't trained yet was the Borgia Bastard. It wouldn't be the most terrible loss.

Lucifer swiftly cut down an angel who tried to attack from behind, feeling another sting in his heart as he did so. He shook the sensation away and made his way to Gabriël. The Archangel saw him coming and raised his sword provocatively to him — Michael's sword.

"That doesn't belong to you, Gabriël." Lucifer snarled as he halted before him.

"It doesn't belong to you either," said Gabriël. "No sword I wield does. Not anymore."

"And you think that means you can attack me? Me? In the Circles? You've lost your mind!"

"I've regained it."

"You goddamn bastard." Lucifer felt his hatred for Gabriël grow. "You should be on your knees before me! I've done everything for you! Saving Joan, saving your child, saving you from your imprisonment! I offered you the world! "

"All you offer is darkness, Lucifer. I won't be a part of that." Gabriël lowered the blade a little. "It's not too late yet. Stop this battle. Return Michael to us. Return Joan to me. You're a good man, I know it. I saw it! You don't belong here; you belong with us. Please, Lucifer, come home."

Everything around Lucifer fell silent. The sounds of weapons clashing together, the screams of dying angels and hell-creatures, the smell of blood, the sight of the ensuing mayhem... It all faded away in that one moment. He only saw Gabriël. Only heard Gabriël's words ringing through his head. Only felt the tattoo of his own heart. Thumping... Thudding...

"I am home."

The slow-motion effect that had stilled time ceased to exist, and Lucifer struck Michael's sword away before lunging at him. Gabriël leaped back, and Lucifer's blade missed his throat by an inch. It did, however, cut through the chain around his neck, and the amulet he gave Gabriël near the Dead Sea fell onto the blood-soaked ground.
Before Lucifer could attack him again, Gabriël hit him with his wing — the wing Lucifer had healed in the Hell-Fire Club — and the Devil was knocked down. He rolled away and jumped up, swinging his sword once more at Gabriël. But the Archangel dodged yet again.
Lucifer advanced faster and faster. His blade cut through the air, barely visible to the naked eye. Yet, he still could not touch Gabriël. He grunted and groaned in frustrated outrage.

"What exactly are you hoping to accomplish here? Did you really believe you could win with such a weak force? You have led these angels to their death! You're just like Michael!"

Gabriël gave no reaction. His silence only infuriated Lucifer more. He roared and lurched forward, but Gabriël nimbly avoided getting struck by the weapon forged in the fires of Etna.

"Coward! Fight me!"

Lucifer heaved in rigid breaths and scowled, his eyes shooting fire at the Archangel. That Gabriël, puny, weak Gabriël, would dare to engage him here, on his own ground! That he would dare to mock him, dancing away instead of fighting him, man to...
Suddenly, Lucifer noticed Gabriël's stance. Like he was ready to fly off at any moment. He quickly glanced around and saw all the angels doing exactly the same after every demon they fought. With every kill, they looked over to Gabriël as if awaiting orders. And they all had their wings out. 

He's evaded every single one of my attacks, just moving out of the way, instead of launching a counter-attack. He's keeping an eye on the other angels, but he's also keeping his eye on me. It's like he's... buying time for something. Is this a distraction? Is another part of the Circles under attack as well? It doesn't make sense for Gabriël to risk these lives unless... 

Lucifer's eyes widened as he understood Gabriël's ploy. The raid was a distraction, but not because there would be another attack on the Circles. This wasn't Gabriël's aim. The Circles didn't hold what Gabriël and the other angels were after.

"BORGIA!" Lucifer spun around on his heels. "The Dream Realm! Go now!" 

The Borgia Bastard disappeared out of sight after killing his latest opponent. Ivory feathers sped past Lucifer. He reached and grabbed hold of Gabriël's wing, pulling him down. The Archangel smacked onto the ground, blood splattering over both of them.
Michael's sword fell out of Gabriël's hand. Lucifer froze. It lay just within his grasp. With that blade, he could summon the full might of Heaven's Fire again, wielding both the light and the dark. This was his chance!
Lucifer released Gabriël's wing and bound for the weapon. But just as his fingers touched the hilt, his limbs slammed against his body. It was as if something was pulling at him, tying him with invisible strings from the ground. No, not invisible. He was tied to the ground... by chains of blood.

Lucifer turned his head. His eyes widened. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Before him stood Gabriël, the tip of his wings dipped into the blood at his feet, and his arms spread out. He was using the spilt blood of demons, beasts, and angels, just like he had used the rain against the Horsemen and the water of the Tiber at the Castel.
Lucifer watched in bewilderment as the Archangel murmured silently, and every beast and demon on the battlefield wailed horrendously as their flesh blistered and burned. This was... miraculous. Gabriël had actually made holy blood.
All the angels took to the air in the blink of an eye. Some supported a wounded comrade; most carried the body of a dead one. Yet none was left on the ground — none but one. Gabriël took a deep breath as he lowered his hands. He crouched down to pick up Michael's sword. Blue eyes focused on Lucifer.

"When people say blood is thicker than water, they often forget blood is water."

"How?" demanded the Devil.

Gabriël raised his arm. The rune on his wrist glowed brightly. It was almost whole again.

"I know about Samael, Lucifer. I'm assuming he brought Marina to you. If she chooses to be with you here, I will respect that. I won't force her to return, nor will I separate you two again. You deserve to be happy with each other after everything you've both gone through. All I ask is that you make sure her heart doesn't darken. Samael was supposed to be neutral as the Angel of Death, but clearly, he's not. I offer clemency to him, but only once, for what you did for me and for what you once meant to all of us. Stay here with your family and find some measure of peace. But don't come after any of us again."

Lucifer fought his restraints, but they only tightened around him. He glared dangerously at Gabriël as the Archangel slowly rose into the air.

"This isn't over, Gabriël," he spat. "I promise you it isn't. I still have Michael. And I have your precious Joan."

"For now. But I doubt Borgia will get to Morpheus in time. And if he does, Anne Boleyn has an arrow or two with his name on."

With a strong beat of his blood-soaked wings, Gabriël soared higher until he flew above the other angels to lead them out of the Circles. Lucifer felt the blood chains loosen as Gabriël's control on them wavered. He got up from the ground and looked about him. He was the only one left. Gabriël had killed every demon within a mile radius in a single move. The Devil smiled and looked up at the disappearing figures above him.

I always knew you had this in you, Gabriël. And now that I learned what you're truly capable of, I won't underestimate you again... Lord Protector.