The Horsemen's corruption had not yet reached the fair city of Paris, but enough had happened in other parts of France for the Parisiens to understand that it was no time to frolic about. Anyone who remained outside hurried indoors, afraid of the ominous eclipse that blotted out the sun. The streets went quiet. The restaurants, caffées, and shops were closed. And the Musée d'Orsay, usually bustling with tourists, now stood like an eerie crypt for the treasures inside. 

Gabriël, Anne, and Thomas made their way through the silent halls of the museum. When they found the plaster cast of La Porte de l'Enfer, they gave each other a look as if to say, 'last chance to back down.' But neither the Nephilim nor the Archangel intended to abandon their mission.
Equipped with a temporary (hookless) model of Da Vinci's prosthetic, Thomas set to work, reciting the incantation to open the gateway to the Circles. Gabriël saw Anne eyeing Thomas with concern when he grimaced as his magic took effect. The stress and trauma his body endured had taken a heavy toll on him, but the mage had already proven he possessed an immense will-power.
After just a few minutes, the plaster door creaked open, revealing the swirling vortex which would lead them into the heart of the Circles. Thomas trembled on his knees but stayed upright as he caught his breath. He turned to Gabriël.

"Anything?"

The Archangel looked up through the window vault above them and shook his head. If they had any hope of seeing this through, they needed the Circles to be virtually empty. They needed as many demons and beasts to take Lucifer's bait and get transported to Megiddo, where Michael awaited to spring the trap. As soon as the fighting began, Peter would let them know.
Gabriël squinted his eyes, searching the black sky again. Suddenly, he saw a great majestic stork flying overhead. This was it. Peter's sign — the fisherman's blessing.

"Now or never," he said.

Gabriël plunged into the vortex, Anne and Thomas jumping in after him. When their feet touched the ground, they drew their weapons, ready to defend themselves. But the room they'd landed in was empty — and completely wrecked.

"Wow, Tepes wasn't kidding," said Thomas. "Look at this mess. No wonder nobody else found this thing before."

Gabriël glimpsed back at the cracked mirror they had just passed through, seeing the rippling after-wave of the vortex as it closed. No going back then.

Anne moved toward a small window and said, "Your plan worked, Gabriël. There are barely any demons left out here."

"It's not out there that worries me," he spoke grimly. "Portals from the outside can't reach within the palace walls, so we can't tell for sure how many are left in here. Hopefully, we can get to Ariëlle before anyone realises we're here. In and out."

"Sure." Thomas scoffed. "When are we ever that lucky?"

Gabriël made his way to the door and opened it a crack. The corridor outside was empty, faintly lit by torches. They waited a few more seconds before venturing into the hallway, Anne with her bow at the ready, and Gabriël and Thomas with their swords in hand.
Gabriël tried not to be impressed that the palace structure was frozen solid and somehow stayed up despite temperatures being hotter than a volcano in the surrounding area. Lucifer told them where to find the private chambers of those who lived within the palace, including his own, but he had advised them to go to the dungeons first since those were better defensible. The thought of his baby girl lying somewhere in a dreary, murky dungeon made Gabriël's blood boil. But there was no time to act rashly. Too much depended on this.
Further down they climbed, into the lower levels of the palace. But to their consternation, the dungeon was nothing like Lucifer and Tepes had described. The cells were scattered everywhere, embedded in walls, the ceiling, the floor... Some had stairs leading to them; others were practically unreachable. Either Lilith and Samael had decided to redecorate, or... they were expecting someone to drop in unannounced.

"Keep an eye out," warned Gabriël.

He signalled Anne and Thomas to take the right corridor. Splitting up probably wasn't the best idea, but they had little choice. There was too much ground to cover, and they couldn't afford to waste a second. Gabriël cautiously entered a cell. Nothing but chains, four skulls, and what remained of the carcasses. The rusty scent of fresh blood lingered, meaning whoever had been kept here had only recently found an end to their suffering.
Every cell Gabriël went to offered a similar sight or nothing at all. He grew desperate. What if he never found his daughter? Another empty cell. What if she wasn't even down here, and they were looking for her in the wrong place? Another. What if Lucifer really wasn't helping and Margaret wasn't dead, and this was all a ploy to move against Michael?

Suddenly, Gabriël heard something. A noise in the distance, barely audible. It sounded like... a baby crying! He threw all caution to the wind and ran toward the sound. A little bundle wriggled on the ground in a fire-lit alcove at the end of a corridor. Gabriël's heart stopped as he moved toward it. But as he knelt to take it, the bundle disappeared.
A vile girl-like laugh echoed, chilling him to the bone. He didn't need to see to know who was there with him. Before he could react, Gabriël was pushed down by an invisible force, his body making an awful sound when he hit the ground. He fought for breath as his ribs pressed against his lungs. Still, he managed to push himself up, and his eyes found a vision of deadly beauty.

Lilith's hair lay over her right shoulder in an intricate braid. Her ears were pierced with golden studs and ringlets. She wore a long-sleeved black laced bodysuit under a long flowing black and gold-threaded vest held together with a single gold clasp, just beneath her breasts. The Queen of Hell truly had returned.
She used her magic to push Gabriël back down and straddled him. Her hands fluttered over him, fingers plucking at invisible strings. Gabriël's battle gear disappeared, leaving him with nothing but the grey tunic and pants he wore underneath.

"Oh, yes." Lilith beamed as she looked him over. "Yes, this is much better."

Gabriël tried to get away, but it was no use; he was glued to the floor. He clenched his fists when her hands trailed his chest.

"I must say, Gabriël, I'm pleasantly surprised at you. The way Samael made you out to be, you always came across as... lacking. But now that I see you, now that I feel you," she swayed her hips, "I believe he might have just been jealous of you."

Lilith lowered herself to him, and Gabriël turned his head, but she grabbed his face with one hand, forcing him to look at her.

"Na-ah, don't be like that," she spoke in a hushed but commanding voice. "Don't forget; I have your daughter. If you want her back, you'll be a good boy and do as I say."

"How do I even know she's still alive?" Gabriël gritted his teeth.

"I've killed many, it's true, but never children."

"No, you just cut them out of their mother's womb."

"Oh, you're not still cross about that, are you?" Lilith pouted. "Think of it this way; I spared your Fallen Angel the excruciating pain of childbirth. But, ugh, why do I even bother talking about that to you? You're a man. You may say you're different, but you're all the same. Your kind is only interested in having five minutes of fun whilst we women do all the work. We form your children inside us, feed them from our breasts, and raise them to be the best they can be. A man's contribution to the entire process is his seed and nothing more. In truth, your species is good for one thing only."

Lilith pressed her mouth to his. Gabriël grunted in protest, but the witch ignored him. She sucked and bit his lower lip until Gabriël could taste his own blood. When she finally let go, Lilith sat back on his lap and gazed down at him with hungry eyes. She slowly stroked the blood away from Gabriël's lip and licked it off her thumb.

"Mmm, I'd quite forgotten what angel blood tasted like. And Archangel at that."

"Take it, then!" he snapped. "Take every drop! I don't care! Just give me back my daughter!"

"Don't be so impatient, Gabriël." She unhooked the clasp of her vest, revealing the smooth naked skin underneath the lace. "There's no reason for us not to have some fun first."

***

The deeper Anne went into the dungeon, the more her anxiety grew. She didn't like this one bit. She wished Thomas hadn't joined her and Gabriël. Why had she even allowed that? He lost his arm, for Heaven's sake! He should have returned to the Castel to be with the others.
Yet she thanked God her husband was with her. Thomas' presence reminded Anne of why they had come. Not just to help Gabriël retrieve his child and avenge Joan, but for their own family. If they didn't at least try to stop Borgia, their children, grandchildren, and every other descendant of their line would always live in fear, waiting for their worst nightmare to appear.

Anne pushed on, going from cell to cell, with Thomas following closely behind, making sure they wouldn't get surprised by anything lurking in the shadows. They passed another cell, stopping at the threshold to peer inside. It was the same as all the others.
She glanced back at Thomas and caught movement behind him. Faster than humanly possible, she raised her bow and let loose her arrow, barely needing to nock it properly. Knowing his wife's every move, Thomas quickly ducked, and the arrow whooshed over his head, piercing a skeleton's skull. Still crouching, he turned on his heels and struck at the skeleton's lower limbs with his sword. The bones tumbled down, clattering all over the floor.
A scraping sound emerged from within the cell then, and Anne saw to her horror that a skeleton without legs dragged itself toward her. Thomas pushed Anne aside and flicked his good hand. The ghoulish creature burst apart, tiny white bone fragments scattering everywhere.

"Thomas!"

Anne yelled to her husband when she saw more skeletons appearing from the surrounding cells. Thomas didn't hesitate. He stretched out his hand, muttering silently, and just like the skeleton in the cell, the ones in the corridor exploded into a million pieces.

"Time to go!"

They ran. The skeletons kept coming, but they weren't fast enough to catch the two Nephilim. Some hurled themselves at Anne and Thomas, but they easily dodged them. They kept on running deeper into the dungeon until they noticed that there were no more cells. And no more skeletons.
Anne halted and grasped Thomas' wrist to keep him from running further. She listened intently, their weapons firmly in hand.

"Well, look who's come down to play."

The voice rang clear in the sinister silence. Anne's body stiffened when she heard it, knowing all too well who it belonged to. She gasped in dismay as the Borgia Bastard stepped out from the shadows. The beauty he had regained was gone. Even the scar-ridden face he'd hidden behind a mask at the end of his life would have been a better sight than what greeted Anne and Thomas now.
Borgia's black hair tangled around his head. The eye he had lost was replaced with a horrendous white thing with no pupil or iris, pushed into the fleshy socket. His body was clad in nothing more than leather pants and a loose unbuttoned shirt. His feet were bare, as was his chest.
Dried blood stuck to his skin, and Anne soon saw the cause of it — a rune carved crudely into him.

"Thomas, what is that?" she asked fearfully.

"I don't know."

Borgia shot them a perverted grin. He casually raised his hand and flicked his wrist. It was as if a battering ram burst against Anne's body. She was hurled back and landed hard against the ice-cold wall of the dungeon. Her lungs collapsed on impact, and she fought for breath.
With watery eyes, she saw Thomas had suffered the same fate. She immediately worried for him, but Thomas was already getting up. He seemed to be all right. Pissed-off, but all right. Anne scrambled to her feet next to him. She gripped her bow tightly and looked back at Borgia, wondering where he got his magic from.
He wasn't a warlock; there was no way he could've just learned to wield magic overnight. Her eyes fell on the rune again. That must be it. That was giving him this power.

"Well then," Borgia's grin broadened, "let the games begin."

***

Michael and Lucifer fought back to back like they had often done in the past, as if nothing had changed between them. They did not even have to look to know where the other was. They felt each other, fire and light moving as one, acting and reacting as one — they were one.
But despite their renewed unity, Michael and Lucifer found themselves overwhelmed by the awesome host risen from the Circles. They had already been forced to abandon the Heavenly Horses, as there was barely any room to manoeuvre through the demons. Some of the cavalry had tried after the first assault but had been pulled into the sea of monsters. Michael didn't want to risk losing Thirza as she was Gabriël's, and Lucifer had only just been reunited with Spiritus, the steed he'd raised since it was a foal and who had curiously bonded with Joan of Arc after his fall.

In an attempt to take down as many demons as they could at once, Michael and Lucifer joined their swords, both holding on to the hilts as if they were one great dual blade, and then spoke the words together to invoke Heaven's Fire. But as fierce as the flames burned, it was still not enough to keep the creatures at bay. The smell of such pure and divine blood drove them to the extreme.
Michael did not dare look at the massacre that was taking place around him. The few glances he stole nearly sickened him. The few bodies that hadn't been saved by other angels were being devoured in the very heat of battle. There was nothing anyone could do. Not without risking their lives. And Michael had already asked them to do that.

Yet despite the crushing force they faced, the Army of the Lord stood fast. They knew what was at stake — not just their own survival, but everything and everyone that lived in the universe God had created. Losing the battle was not an option. Not now, not ever.
Michael cut down another demon with his flaming sword. It screeched before burning up, reducing to nothing more than a pile of ashes, immediately trampled upon. Two low-level spectres tried to get to Michael, but Lucifer killed them before they could reach him.

"Michael, they're not here!" he yelled, decapitating a ferocious beast with two heads in a single blow. "Lilith and Samael are still in the Circles!"

"Gabriël can't handle both of them alone!" shouted Michael as he nimbly jumped aside to avoid the tentacles of a large Kraken-like creature.

"I'll go help him!"

"Lucifer, no, wait!"

But the Devil was already opening a portal to the Circles, too distracted to see the harpy diving with her wide azure wings. Michael didn't hesitate. He swung his sword to cut through one of the tentacles of the hybrid beast and jumped over the rest of them. He pushed Lucifer to the ground, stumbling down with him. But they didn't hit the blood-soaked earth. Instead, they went through the portal and landed in a candle-lit chamber. The portal closed. There was no way back.

"Damn you, Michael!" Lucifer angrily pushed him off. "Why did you do that? I can't open a portal back into the battlefield, you idiot; I could kill someone. And it's too dangerous to open one further away. We could fall straight into an ambush."

"Shall I leave you to the harpy next time, then?" Michael scoffed as he got up from the floor. "You are welcome, by the way."

"Don't give me that! When the angels see you're missing, they'll assume something happened. They'll lose hope and the battle."

"Then we better hurry."

Lucifer huffed, slapping away the hand Michael offered him. He rose to his feet and gave Michael a hard look.

"You do what I say when I say it, got it?"

"Fine."

"Michael, I mean it. You don't know the Circles, or Lilith, or my... Samael. I am trying to think of every trap they may have come up with to get ahead of them, but nothing I do will matter if you go out and act rashly in a fool's attempt to save the others."

Michael scanned Lucifer's dark eyes and nodded, knowing he was right. Whatever happened next, he couldn't allow his heart and concern for Gabriël and the Nephilim to overtake his mind. If he did... they would all die.
Lucifer's dark gaze softened a little. Then, without warning, he grabbed Michael by the nape of his neck, and their mouths crashed together. Michael's eyes widened in surprise, but he overcame it and hungrily responded to the kiss, yearning for more. When Lucifer drew back, they held on to each other, hearts beating in synch. 

"I'm not through with you yet, Michael," he whispered. "We'll sort our business later. For now, stay close to me."

Lucifer's lips grazed Michael's one last time before he walked past him. He opened the oak door a crack and motioned Michael to follow him. But despite their high vigilance, neither the Devil nor Archangel realised they were being watched. For the beasts that stalked them were invisible and expert hunters. They pursued their prey silently, their carmine eyes following the two men everywhere they went, waiting for their master's command to strike.

***

The sandy plains of Megiddo were drenched in blood as far as the eye could see. Angels with beautiful white wings lay amidst demons with black eyes and deformities. They lost their lives in a single cut, stab or snap. They were considered the lucky ones.
Low-level demons — spectres without a corporeal body — shattered into nothing as they were slain. The stronger ones were doused in consecrated palm oil and set on fire, either through spell-casting or an invention provided by the artistas. The fire took them quickly, which some would consider merciful. Unfortunately, the heartless creatures from Hell did not show the angels the same courtesy.
The bloodcurdling screams of angels being eaten alive by monsters filled those still fighting with terror. Some would kill their own friends just so they wouldn't be in pain anymore. Better to have it end by their hand than to allow their torment to go on. 
Yet what made it worse was Michael's absence. Knowing the Lord Protector would never abandon them of his own accord, especially not in the middle of battle, they all assumed something had happened. He had been fighting side by side with the Devil, that traitorous bastard, and now both were missing. A few Archangels took charge of the army whilst others searched the ground from the skies, but they were constantly set upon by harpies and firebirds. Finally, they were forced to abandon the search to save their own lives.

Things were not looking well for the forces of the Lord. Their numbers had dwindled by almost half. So many lay dead. So many more lay wounded. There was no way they could win.
Suddenly, the darkened sky lit up in a blazing white light. It spread wide, casting itself over the battlefield like a warm blanket, and all those touched by the darkness died.
The spectres shrieked and howled as they convulsed and imploded. The beasts turned to stone and shattered into a million pieces. And the demon warriors fighting head to head with the angels grew sickly pale, blood draining from every orifice, and dropped dead where they stood.

The angels drew back in caution as they perceived a winged creature descending from the Heavens, shining fiercely as the sun. Whatever this being was, it had just killed every beast and demon in a matter of seconds. If it turned against the angels now...
But it didn't. The angels covered their eyes or averted as the sands swirled up in an explosion of light when the creature hit the ground. When they looked up, they were back home in the Vale, surrounded by surprised friends and comrades.
One question lingered on everyone's lips then. The one thought no one dared voice aloud. Could the being they had seen — the one that had saved them all and whom some swore had six wings — could that truly have been the creature of legend?