Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Asmodeus sat in the home of Clara Valac, speaking to her mother, and attempting to ignore the children in the background, who were running around and playing like there was no tomorrow.

He had been invited to their home by Clara, who had said that they had a pest problem in their garden. When he had arrived the problem was clear. Most of the vegetables had been torn out of the ground, and the garden was generally a mess. What had concerned him the most however, was the fact that instead of finding paw prints on the ground, when he had looked, he had found the conspicuous mark of a boot. That was what he was discussing with Mrs Valac now.

"Surely you should just inform the authorities Ma'am. This is clearly different from a pest problem." he said.
"No, I will not have the 'authorities' trample on my property." clearly holding back some choice words about law enforcement. "Besides, fire smokes out bugs and demons just the same doesn't it?"
"Yes but it's not the same" Asmodeus said desperately, trying to make her understand.
"Oh it's fine. Not like you're going to have to kill anyone." Asmodeus opened his mouth to argue when she continued. "Besides, I'll compensate you for your time."
With the offer of payment on the table, things changed. It suddenly became a whole lot easier to justify everything in his mind.

"Fine, I'll do it." he said, feeling sheepish at his indecision, and worrying that he would seem greedy to her.

"Great! It comes at night. I'll show you a place where you can stake out!"

***
Asmodeus gazed up at the stars, wondering at their beauty for just a moment, before slapping himself and returning his attention to the garden. He really was trying to pay attention but he had been laying there since just before the sun went down and zoning out eventually became inevitable. The garden was a large patch, no fences or walls, just a patch of dirt with vegetables in it. Asmodeus thought it was a wonder they hadn't had any pests before. He was laying in a surprisingly soft patch of bushes, and there was moss on the ground, making it very comfortable.
Suddenly he heard a rustling behind him, startling him. He tried to roll back and prepared to cast a fire spell, when he realized it was just Clara.

"What the hell Valac?! I almost burned you there!"

"Hey! You should've known it was me! You devi idiot!" She said pouting as she laid down beside him, eyes glued to the garden already.

"Why are you even out here anyway? Asmodeus asked,

"It's my mothers garden and I want to protect it!" She said doggedly, as if to rebuke any attempt to drag her back inside. Asmodeus didn't even bother trying to convince her.
For a while, they just laid there. Clara was like a hawk, nothing like her scatterbrained self, staring out into the night, hands cupped around her eyes like binoculars. Asmodeus tried to at least focus, refusing to let Clara be more focused on the job than he was.
Suddenly, just as he was beginning to zone out again, Clara's hand flashed forward, pointing at something. Asmodeus stared into the patch, and there was a figure, illuminated by the light of the full moon. And it was the strangest thing he had ever seen. It appeared to be some sort of uniform, and yet that uniform was mostly cloth instead of metal. It had a strange mask with a tube coming out of it that was attached to a box protruding from its chest with a shovel on it. There were strange bits of regalia on many of the pieces as well. Perhaps a traveller who had gotten lost? Still Asmodeus assumed they would run away as soon as they saw him and Clara. So he stood up, knowing Clara wouldn't be far behind, and began to approach it, Clara at his heels, flame in his hands. It noticed him quickly and froze, turning to stare. Somehow, from the moment he stared into the lenses of its mask, he knew it was something different than anyone had ever seen before.

133: 133 did not have a name. Like all Kriegers, he had been born, given a gun, and put through rigorous training that prepared one for the horrors of the galaxy. And so when a Cadian asked him his name while they were stationed on the same front, he simply tilted his head. The Cadian had then given a befuddled explanation that he had mostly failed to understand. He had gotten the vague idea however that names were identifiers, like the numbers used for regiments. And so he, in his mind, had begun to refer to himself 133. The number was the one the Cadian regiment had used, and so had simply inserted itself into the idea he had been given of names, and then worked its way up from there.

His regiment, the 84th siege, had been besieging an orc stronghold when suddenly the orcs had launched a sally. He remembered the speed of it. One moment it was calm, and then suddenly the world was filled with orc war cries. He remembered the green face of the orc leaping toward him, choppa in hand, mouth drooling as it screamed in anger. He remembered the way his heart had begun to race, the way he the world shrunk, the way it slowed, the way he had raised his gun, knowing it wouldn't be enough, knowing he was going to-

And then suddenly he had been in a world where the sky was green. Not the same as orc skin, but pastel, with puffy white clouds and strange creatures roaming them.
He had initially tried to search for any imperial forces to meet up with, but it had quickly become clear that there would be none on whatever world he had been moved to. There were mutants everywhere, and when he had gotten close to what he assumed was a massive fortress, he had heard some kind of singing. It was the furthest thing from gothic he had ever heard.

He tried not to give too much thought to why he was there now. He just had to keep moving forward. That was what the death korps did.
He had wanted to keep hiding in the forest, at least until he could make a plan, but a few days after arriving, he had promptly discovered he was out of rations. And so, after stumbling through the forest for a day, he had discovered a home with a garden in a small clearing. The home appeared quite active, so he had waited until night, and then snuck into the garden, which was hardly protected, and he had taken a couple of strange looking orange sticks out of it, and promptly fled back to the woods. There was a small stream nearby, and after washing them, he found they were far better than the corpse starch rations he normally had to eat. The next night, he had found himself taking more. He quickly discovered that all of the things tasted far better than corpse starch, and had become incredibly eager to eat every night, unlike before, where it had just been a means to an end.

This was the last night however. He knew the mutants who lived in the house had probably gotten suspicious, and he didn't want any of them to know he was there. He was going to take as much as he could carry, and then head for the hills, wherever those were.
And so, as the twin moons rose to their peaks in the sky, he stepped out, heading straight for the garden, already thinking of the wonderful flavors he would get. He was about to lean down to pull one of the orange sticks, his personal favorite of the things, when suddenly, a figure emerged. 133 hardly had the time to register the fact before a second, much smaller figure emerged.

He cursed himself for coming back to the garden. He had been pushing his luck already. He should've just found another house, taken from someone who wasn't expecting it.
He considered his situation. The taller figure was wearing a white uniform and had pink hair. He was clearly a psyker, fire sprouting from his hand. The smaller one was, in his view, a petulant child, arms crossed, approaching him like she had something to say. Perhaps she lived in the house?

It didn't matter what he decided. If they were anything like the other mutants he had seen, they would have wings, and would probably chase him if he tried to flee. He looked at them again. They were nowhere near as intimidating as the Orks. It was a child and someone who was only old enough to have served a couple years at most if he was a krieger. He could take them.

And so he reached for his lasgun, and recited the thing all Kriegers said before a charge, feeling a familiar strange calm come over him, and using the words to stamp down any traitorous nerves.

"In life, war. In death, peace. In life, shame. in death, atonement."

Chapter Text

Asmodeus: It was reaching for something. That was bad enough already. He had expected it to simply make a break for, like most good non-bipedal pests. The fact that it now was unslinging something from its shoulder was not something he had been completely prepared for. It was a strange looking thing, but the only interpretation of it was a weapon. He shouted at it.

“Put the weapon down! I’ll burn you!” he warned it, suddenly really hoping it would follow the instructions, not wanting to actually have to put that threat to use. Unfortunately, when the words reached it, it stopped for a moment, weapon in hand, and then raised it. Asmodeus found instinct his savior, fire bursting from his hands. It startled the pest and made it raise its arms to shield itself, taking the weapon away from pointing at them. He heard Clara shout something, but didn’t register it, taking the opportunity he had created, and rushing the thing before it could recover. It saw him, threw its weapon aside, and drew a shovel from its backpack, before charging as well.

They met at the edge of the garden, and Asmodeus immediately knew he was outmatched. He didn’t know why he had given up the advantage of the flames. Maybe he just wanted to subdue it. No matter the reason, it was a mistake. It clearly had more experience than him, just from the way it swung the shovel, which he suddenly noticed was sharper than it needed to be. He tried to throw some fire out and scurry back, but it was on him constantly, not allowing him to finish the spell. He made a desperate swing at the pest, and got lucky, managing to push it back with a solid hit to the chest. Although it clearly wasn’t going to be stopped by that, it allowed him to start making fire again, and he launched a couple bursts at it, before taking the chance to move back. When he turned, he saw it had been very effective indeed. Its mask was burning, and it clawed at its face to get it off. When it did, it tore the mask from the tube and threw it away.

It’s face was clear in the moonlight, and suddenly it became he. He was about Asmodeus’s age, with incredibly pale skin.

Asmodeus suddenly wondered how someone so young could have so much experience. He had brown hair, and his eyes were wide as he stared at Asmodeus. He took a step forward, and then stopped as he saw the fire in his hands, and chose to stay back, eyes flicking to the weapon he had thrown away before.

Suddenly Asmodeus realized something. Clara was nowhere to be seen. As if on cue, she appeared behind the man, and hit him over the head with what looked like a baseball bat. The man promptly crumpled to the ground.
Clara stood over the man, triumphant. Asmodous approached, cautious, fire still in his hands as he stood over the man. No, not man, boy. His face was young, possibly a bit younger than Asmodeus. He was still breathing thankfully, and suddenly he wondered what they were going to do with him. Clara had hit him pretty hard, so he would be out for a while he assumed. But there wasn’t exactly a hospital nearby.

“Thank you for your help Valac. Go wake your mother so she can decide what to do with this… pest.” The last word sounded wrong as he said it.

Clara had a strange look on her face. Her usual peppiness made no appearance other than her nod, and she quickly rushed off to get her mother, leaving Asmodeus to stare at the boy. He traced the clothes with his eyes, and came to the conclusion that he must be a soldier. There was no way the uniform could be for school or any other event. There was too much metal armor, and the winged skull on the helmet wasn’t exactly a symbol of peace. He felt a sudden pang of disgust towards whoever would have forced someone so young into the army, whatever army that may be.

Suddenly as he thought that, a smell hit him. Not the disgusting smell of someone who had lived in the wilderness, but a vaguely sweet smell he could not place. He waved it off as some leftover from dinner or just his imagination, although the smell was different from anything he had ever smelled. Before he could consider it further however, Clara was back with her mother. Before he knew it, they had tied the boy up and were carrying him inside. They left him in the kitchen, and invited Asmodeus to stay for the night. He took the opportunity eagerly, still feeling the adrenaline leaving his body, and wanting to be able to help them in the morning. When he got to the guest room, he practically fell into the rolled out sleeping bag that counted for a bed, and was out like a light before a minute passed.

133: 133 woke up, and immediately regretted it. He had a splitting headache, and his arms and legs were tied. And his vision was wrong, wasn’t he wearing his–

The previous day's memories decided then was the best time to appear, and the situation became somewhat clear. He had been captured. He immediately considered biting through his tongue to deny the enemy, but some part of his brain beat that idea to a pulp before it could truly bloom in his mind. Instead, he said prayer to the emperor in his mind and looked up to take stock of his situation. He was in some sort of kitchen, with mutants all around him. The pink haired one was staring at him, and the smaller green one was doing the same. Another pang went through his head. It had probably been her who had hit him in the head. There were a few other small green haired mutants, and one larger one who was probably their caretaker. The pink haired one spoke, and suddenly he realized he could understand him. Perhaps they had been contacted by the imperium before?

“He’s awake,” the pink haired one said to the others tepidly, eyes never leaving 133. Perhaps he had been scared by their fight. He certainly would have had him bested alone, fire be damned.

“Give him some water,” said the caretaker, voice strangely soft. One of the small ones brought a glass to the pink one who walked over and placed it in his hands, which were only bound at the wrist, and still allowed him to use his fingers. With an awkward effort, he brought the water up to his mouth, and after tilting his head back, was able to move the cup enough to get the water to flow out. He felt it spill over a bit and adjusted, drinking greedily, only realizing just how thirsty he had been when the glass was utterly empty. He was still thirsty, but he refused to ask for more from his captors.

The caretaker walked over, and while he could see that while she was putting on quite the polite face, more like she had a guest, there were strands of annoyance sticking out, and he remembered that this was the lady whose garden he had spent the last week stealing from. She kneeled down in front of him, placed a hand on his shoulder, and spoke.

“What is your name, child?”

He considered whether or not he should even speak. It was bad enough to be captured, but speaking to the enemy, giving them information, was practically heresy. However, if they knew gothic, then they may know something about the imperium, and how to get back there. Maybe he had been wrong in his initial assessment of the planet. He had only seen a small section. Perhaps these people were considered ab humans instead of mutants? He was suddenly very glad he had something to say off the top of his head.

“133” he said, hearing a strange raspy voice come from his throat. The name appeared to confuse them. He didn’t know why. Numbers were perfectly reasonable identifiers weren’t they?

“... Well then ‘133,’” The caretaker placed a hand on his shoulder. “Would you mind explaining to me why you were stealing from my garden?” She said, hand squeezing harder on his shoulder, eyes boring into his. He suddenly felt a pang of sharp fear as his mind tripped over itself trying to find out where in the emperor's name to even start.

“I was separated from my regiment by some unknown force. It seemed this world was populated only by xenos and mutants, and so when I ran out of rations, I had to resort to stealing.” This explanation, which 133 thought sounded quite reasonable, only seemed to confuse them more. The caretaker loosened her grip at least. She seemed the only one to at least somewhat understand.

“Well, that certainly is strange. But I suppose we can work with it. Do you know where your regiment was?” she asked cautiously. “Maybe we can help you get back to them.” she was looking at him in the way he had seen refugee parents look at the orphans who marched out of ruined hives together.

“We were fighting on Acht 6.” He didn’t even need to hear the response to realize they didn’t know of it. The blank, confused expressions were enough. The caretaker was about to say something else, when one of the smaller green ones butted in.

“Who were you fighting?” The kid asked excitedly. It was a small boy with tiny freckles on his face, and eyes practically glowing with curiosity. The caretaker wheeled on the child, about to scold him before 133 spoke again.

“We were fighting Orks.” At this point he knew what to expect. He said something perfectly reasonable that even the most primitive xenos should know, and he got back blank expressions and confusion. The kid looked even more curious now, but the caretaker gave him a look akin to a commissar, and the child decided it would be better to keep his questions to himself. 133 didn’t know why the caretaker felt so strongly about that. This was an interrogation, if unorthodox, and the kid seemed to be asking good questions for that.

“Now then,” said the caretaker. “Do you know how you got here? And if we can’t get you back to your regiment, maybe we can at least get you back to where you’re from.” She seemed genuine, and 133 decided to just go with it rather than risk losing the opportunity to return to his regiment.

“I am from Krieg. As for how I got here…” he paused, remembering how one moment he had been in a trench, a single moment from being hacked apart, and then during that moment, as if he was in a dream, the world had twisted itself into the one he was on now.

“I don’t know how I got here. One moment I was in a trench on Acht 6, and the next I was in the forest.” He said, mind considering all the possibilities of what may have happened, and finding none it liked.

“Well then, that is a problem.” the caretaker said, brow furrowing. Suddenly, a small child began crying from a room over, and the caretaker made a hasty apology before going to the child, gesturing for the other green ones to follow her. The child who hit him in the head and the pink one remained. They were still staring at him, and that was enough to put the notion of escape to the back of his mind. While the idea that this was an interrogation still clung on stubbornly in his mind, doubt had begun to seep between the cracks.

Just what in the emperor's name was going on?

Chapter Text

Asmodeus: The boy ‘133’ stared up at them as they stared at him. His eyes rested mostly on Asmodeus, with the occasional flick over to Clara, as if to make sure she was still there, and not about to clock him on the head again. Everything about the boy was strange. His voice was utterly quiet, as if subdued since birth, and everything he said made not a lick of sense. He certainly had never heard of Krieg or Acht 6. And he spoke of war as if it was just a simple fact of life.

“What was your regiment called? Maybe we’ve heard of them.” He didn’t know why he said it. He didn’t expect to understand or know whatever 133 said, and the soldier's face said he didn’t think they would understand.

“84th siege regiment,” The expected blank silence promptly retook the place of the soldiers words. Asmodeus searched for another question, and found a generic softball to throw. He tossed the words into the air, and waited for them to once again get crushed by some strange or incomprehensible answer.

“Who do you serve?” Suddenly, the boy's features were changing, and it looked like he was comparing answers in his head, debating which was better, before finally his expression shifted back to normal, and he responded.

“The God Emperor of Man.” … Oh boy, straight to incomprehensible. He had never heard of an emperor. There was only a king in the demon realm.

‘In the demon realm.’ That thought stuck out suddenly. The boy had never referred to anything he knew of in the demon realm. And now he was referring to an emperor of ‘man.’ Not of demons, ‘Man.’ Suddenly the possibility bloomed in his head. If he wasn’t from the demon realm, then  he might be from the human realm? Might he be human?

His brain still refused to believe it. There had to be some reasonable explanation without diving into the realm of myth. He searched for more questions, trying to figure out what might cause all the info to make sense. He was still in the midst of that, when something came to Clara, and she was suddenly kneeling in front of 133, examining him, eyes flicking from his boots to his ears with no discernable pattern. It was clearly much to the soldiers discomfort as well, because he leaned away slightly, eyes fixed on the small demon.

“Are you human?” Clara asked. Her words cut through the silence like a knife, and right as her mother returned, having wrangled the other Valac children. Asmodeus felt a shock go through him at Clara’s inability to be even the least bit polite. Despite this, confusion bloomed on 133’s face, instead of disgust or annoyance. He looked like he had just been asked the most obvious question in the world by someone who, frankly, should have known.

“Yes.” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Suddenly, just like that, everything fell into place. His suspicions had been correct, and even things he hadn’t thought of fit that explanation perfectly.
Like the sweet scent he had smelled the night before.

133: 133 was rapidly coming to believe he had been thrust into a world that made no sense. The mutants knew gothic, knew that humans existed, and yet they had absolutely no knowledge of the wider galaxy. And the pink one was staring at him in shock, as if the simple fact he was human tore a cherished worldview to shreds.

“Hmmm,” the caretaker hummed as she approached him again. “That is rather intriguing. Now what am I to do with you?”

“With all due respect Ma’am, if he is human, we ought to–” The pink one started.

“Asmodeus, if you are about to suggest handing this boy over to the authorities, I suggest you keep your mouth shut. I will not let him go until he has paid his due, and even then it will not be into the hands of those wretches.”

‘Paid his due.’ Those words bounced around in his head, knocking loose memories of commissars telling his regiment of the history of Krieg, and why they must atone. He understands that. If the caretaker wanted him to repay a debt, then by all means he should do what he could to pay it back, right? It would also prevent anyone from handing him over to the authorities. Something else also came to mind. These mutants had names, just like the Cadians. Apparently the pink one was called Asmodeus. He looked over them, and decided to risk a question.

“Do you all have names?” Their eyes fell back on him, and they stared like he was mad.

“... Yes. I’m Asmodeus Alice, this is Clara Valac, and that is her mother, Mrs. Valac.” He pointed to each of them in turn, as if he wouldn’t be able to understand if he didn’t. He was able to understand who had been assigned what name perfectly fine. What confused him were the second names he had assigned to himself and Clara. They were redundant, weren't they? He wanted to ask, but considering the way they were looking at him, he decided not to push his luck.

Mrs. Valac’s expression shifted ever so slightly, her smile never leaving it. He tried to read her thoughts in that expression, knowing that they would hold his fate. He came up with nothing, until she leaned down and spoke to him.

“Allow me to explain where you are. You are in the netherworld, land of demons.” she stopped for a moment, and the words sunk into 133’s mind. Demons… she had said they were demons. He felt himself tense, and his eyes darted around, looking for a way out.
He had heard of demons briefly, when the commissars had educated his batch before they were put through their first training lessons. Demons had attacked the imperium at the end of the great crusade, and the emperor and his nine sons-the primarchs-had stopped them. However, in doing so, the god emperor was interred on the golden throne, and his sons were lost. The commissar who had told them this had said that demons still haunted the imperium even now, and that it was part of Kriegs atonement to destroy them. And now he had been captured by them. He started to struggle against the ropes that bound his arms and legs.

The creatures noticed his panic. Asmodeus tensed, Clara took a step back, and a frown appeared on Mrs. Valac's face.

“Do not worry, we intend you no harm,” she said. The words were like stones thrown at his exposed face. They must be mocking him, or keeping him alive for some ritual. He kept struggling, and tried to scoot away, eyes switching from looking for an exit to looking for a weapon.

“Well, I suppose it’s not right to expect you to react fondly to that news.” Mrs. Valac sighed. He tuned her out. His mind recognized that Asmodeus was saying something, but he didn’t register the words. He felt his back against the counter, and pushed himself to his feet.

There was a knife on the counter, and he was able to awkwardly wrap his hands around it before the demons could stop him. They did notice the fact that their prisoner suddenly had a blade, and their demeanor changed. Asmodeus pushed the other demons out of the way, fire in hand.

“Put the knife down. We intend you no harm,” he said, voice low and threatening.

“Either you are demons, or you are heretics of the highest order. You bring humanity nothing but harm,” 133 said, waiting for whatever trick they were pulling to be revealed.

Asmodeus brought his hands up, ready to burn him at a moments notice, only for Mrs. Valac to speak suddenly, her voice loud and clear.

“Asmodeus! Stop threatening the poor boy!”
“But-”

“If he was a threat to anyone in this house he would be dead already.” She said, exasperated. 133 knew she was right. Just because he had managed to work a knife into his hands didn’t mean that he could actually use it. His hands and feet were still tied, and he was outnumbered by the demons, whose sorcery didn’t need to be anywhere near him to end him. Still, he kept his hands around the knife. It made him feel like he had at least some form of control, something to let him steady his quaking nerves. He wasn’t supposed to be nervous anyway. He was a Krieger. He existed for no reason other than to fight and die for the emperor. He considered simply raising the knife to his neck and slashing it before the demons could react, at least preventing them from taking him alive. But when his mind visualized the task, his body refused it. And besides, he probably wouldn’t even be able to get the knife into his throat properly with his wrists bound, right?
Mrs. Valac stared at 133. Her eyes seemed to bore into the very depths of his existence, seeing him for who he was. He shifted uncomfortably, hating the feeling of staring back at her, and yet refusing to yield the staring contest.

“I understand that you may think this is some kind of trick, but up until about five minutes ago, we believed that humans were myths.”

“Is that so? You're taking that discovery awfully well. And besides, you know gothic. You must have had some contact with the imperium.”

Mrs. Valac simply laughed when he said that, much to the surprise of everyone else in the room.

“My daughter here is a bit of a strange one, I’ll give you that. But if you look at Asmodeus here, he was rather flabbergasted. I bet he is still trying to convince himself that you aren't human right now."

“I am– I mean— He could be!” Asmodeus stammered out, the fire in his hands still present, although they were no longer pointed square at 133’s face.

“As for me, I simply have more maturity than the two of them.”

“Hey!” The two other demons protested simultaneously.

“As for the language thing, I simply used a translation spell on you. To us it sounds like you are speaking perfectly fluent demonic.”
133 considered all of that. On the one hand, there had been some form of foul sorcery used on him. He himself might be corrupted now. On the other, he had felt no corruption of any sort, and all the explanations made sense to him. Besides, there were psykers who could use similar sorcery without corrupting themselves or others. This might just be a strange version of that.

“I intend you no harm. While there are some who might, and much of our mythology is built up around that, as long as you don’t mention that to anyone, and stay away from the authorities–like everyone should already be doing–than you should be fine”

Despite himself, the knife slipped down a little. She sounded truthful, and he was tired. Surely if she intended to harm him, she would have already done so.

“I will also help you in whatever attempts you make to find a way back to the human realm.” she said, as if it was a simple favor.

With those words, 133’s justifications for resisting crumbled away, and he placed the knife aside, nodding in understanding to Mrs. Valac, and doing his best to swallow his doubt.

“Good. I will cut your bindings and give you a sleeping bag. I’m sorry to say were a bit strapped for space as it is, and Asmodeus would probably have a fit if you slept in the guest room with him. You can sleep in the kitchen for now. I will sort something out as soon as I can.

“You cannot be thinking of freeing him after he just tried to threaten us?!” Asmodeus said as she walked over to 133 and picked up the discarded knife.

“Don’t worry your little hearts out, I’ll make sure he behaves himself tonight,” she said as the knife cut through 133’s bindings, and he knew that she would do so. There was an endless will behind those eyes.

And suddenly there was nothing else to say, Asmodeus and Clara retired to their respective rooms, Mrs. Valac brought him a sleeping bag, and he tossed it out in one of the corners, placed his head on the pillow, which he was shocked to find it had, and promptly had the week's exhaustions catch up to him, falling asleep with his mind still swirling, and his heart still beating.

Chapter Text

133: He woke up early, sitting up in the sleeping bag and looking around. He was still in kitchen, and all the furniture was in the same place, his clothes were the same, and he couldn’t mark any difference in how he felt.

So far so good.

Mrs. Valac was standing on the other side of the room, possibly having stayed up the entire night by the tired way she stared at him as he rolled up the sleeping bag and headed toward her. He suddenly wasn’t sure how to speak to her. She was technically his superior, and he had to pay his debt to her, so he just decided to treat her like an officer. He snapped his heels together and saluted, drawing a raised eyebrow from her, but no other reaction.

“Reporting for duty,” he said. A slow chuckle escaped from the demons throat.

“You’re up earlier than expected for someone whose had to sleep in the woods for the past week. Let me give you a quick tour of the house.” 133 didn’t think he had gotten up that early. The sun was already peeking over the horizon, and the stars had disappeared, replaced by a sky with a gradient that went from the color of moridan uniforms to the yellow of the steel legion, with hints of green beginning to show behind puffy white clouds.

The house was a small affair, with guest room, a room for the children, a latrine, and a center room that had a few chairs and a couch on one side, and a kitchen on the other.

Mrs. Valac went over to and reached under the counter, bringing out 133’s army issued bag.

“Here’s your things. While I’ve taken the liberty of removing any weapons, I’ve left everything else intact. Do whatever you need to do for the next few minutes, and then we can get started.”

He did just that, going through his bag, finding his few possessions as intact as he remembered them being, and getting himself ready for the day. Within five minutes he was ready for the day. Mrs Valac used the time to close her eyes for a few moments, leaning against the door to the kids room, arms crossed. He would have thought her entirely asleep if she hadn’t checked her watch and stood up straight as he left the latrine.

“You wake up Asmodeus, I need to wake up the kids. They need to be up soon if they want to make it to school on time.”

133 saluted and went for the guest door, trying to convince himself that Mrs Valac was just like any other commissar, and that he could figure things out if he just followed orders like he always had.

Asmodeus: He woke with a start to the sound of the door opening. He scrambled up, throwing the sheets around him until they fell away to reveal the door. Standing in it was 133, posture straight.

“Sir, Mrs. Valac requested that I wake you. She said it was almost time for school.” He stumbled a bit over the last few words, but finished the statement cleanly. Asmodeus looked out the window, and sure enough, the sun was coming up, and if he was right, he would need to be at Babyls soon. There wouldn’t be any classes just yet, but the first years would be introduced to the school and some of the teachers, take a few aptitude tests, that sort of stuff. Classes would start two days later.

Asmodeus stared at 133 for a moment, before saying, “Thank you.” Instead of leaving like any normal person would, 133 took the time to snap his heels together and, for some unknown reason, salute him, before taking his leave.

For a boy who had been threatening them not 8 hours ago, he certainly seemed different. The soldier made absolutely no sense to Asmodeus, but he was not in a mood to question it. In a few minutes he was up and ready. Stepping out into the guest room, he expected to find Clara there, ready to fly to school with him. If he was honest with himself, he should have known better at that point.

The living room was a mess. The Valac children were running around while Mrs. Valac attempted to make breakfast. 133 was standing to the side, attempting to maintain a straight posture, clearly unsure of exactly what to do. The children were currently paying more attention to food that was being made, but their attention was falling on the strange new man who had been tied up the night before. They seemed a bit drowsy, having been woken up in the middle of the night last when 133 had been dragged in. one of the kids had gotten up and took a peek into the kitchen, and promptly informed his fellows of the rather interesting events that had been occurring, and before long they were all out in the kitchen.

Despite the lack of sleep, they were getting slowly closer to 133, and the boy was doing his best to slowly inch away from them, but had already come up against the wall. Asmodeus decided to spare him the fate of having the children ask him any more questions, or worse, asking him to play games with them. Unfortunately, this required him to sacrifice himself by picking up a deck of colorful cards used for a kids game. The children never followed the damn rules, and he suspected that they had someone who wasn’t playing look at his cards. He always felt his blood pressure going up and up as his hand was filled with more and more cards, but he could deal with it for a few minutes. Besides, he didn’t want the kids getting too close to the strange human.

Said strange human was also looking at him with the same suspicion Asmodeus knew was on his own face, but with quite a bit of gratitude as well. He only needed to play for a few minutes before Mrs. Valac finished breakfast and called them over. 133 hesitated for moment, but eventually made his way over, grabbing a plate of scrambled eggs and settling onto the couch on the other end of the room to eat, Asmodeus on the other side of the couch, not wanting to sit directly next to the human, but also wanting to keep an eye on him. The table was already filled by the Valac kids, so he couldn’t sit there anyway.

Asmodeus began eating, eyes flicking to 133 after every bite. The human was staring at the eggs like he had never seen such a thing before. He used his fork to pick up a small chunk, brought it to his nose, sniffed, and, very cautiously, took a bite. His eyes seemed to light up as he made the few chews necessary to swallow the bite. And then the fork was moving again. He began shoveling the eggs into his face faster than Asmodeus had thought possible. There was no attempt at manners, no care to savor the taste, just a desperate desire to have more. 133 was done with his plate before Asmodeus was even halfway done with his.

Asmodeus expected him to ask for seconds, but instead he just put the plate aside and sat straight, emotions swirling in his face even as he tried to keep it straight. Asmodeus wanted to ask the boy more than a few questions, such as ‘is this the first time you’ve ever eaten anything ever,’ but he decided to keep to himself. It was almost time for him and Clara to go anyway.

And so he put his plate away, grabbed his bag, and headed outside. Clara was hot on his heels, being pushed along by her mother. Together, they spread their wings and took off, toward the sky, and toward Babyls

133: He placed the eggs as one of the best experiences of his life. He was worried about corruption still, but he figured he had eaten the vegetables before, and that hadn’t corrupted him. Surely this would be fine as well, right?

He looked out the window to see Asmodeus and Clara taking off. The sight of wings sprouting from the demons was a stark reminder of where he was, and he stood up, suddenly very eager to get to work so that he could repay his debt and get out of this place as soon as possible.

Mrs. Valac had managed to get hte kids to be distracted with something else for a moment, and so was able to turn her attention to him.

“Well than, you seem eager to get to work. Lets get started.”

She brought him out to the garden and gestured to it. 133 could still see his obvious boot prints, and the places where he had torn the vegetables out of the ground.

“I’ll get you a spade and some seeds, and you can get to work fixing this up.”

133 stared at her blankly. He was a soldier of krieg, a living weapon, made to do the emperors will, made to fight and die for his worlds atonement.

He was not a gardener.

Mrs. Valac saw the expression on his face and chuckled.

“Don't worry child, I’ll give you a quick run down of what you need to do.”

Again with referring to him as a child. He still didn’t get it, but once again chose not to question it. He had no idea how thin the ice he was standing on was, and had no intention of testing it now.

Mrs. Valac brought out a couple small shovels and hoes, and a few bags of seeds, marked with pictures of what they were supposed to become. The shovels were, to him, pathetic. They lacked the sharp edges that would made normal shovels good melee weapons, and they were absolutely tiny. They seemed entirely useless. Unable to be used in self defense, and unable to dig the ground enough to make effective fortifications.

As it turned out, they were quite effective at making small holes. He watched as Mrs. Valac dug one and placed a seed inside it before filling it back in. It was a rather simple process, all he had to do was fix the holes he made and plant new seeds, with certain types going to separate sections. Easy.

“All set?” Mrs. Valac asked, standing up. He nodded and Mrs. Valac smiled.

“I’ll leave you to it then.”

“Yes Ma’am!” he said, saluting and snapping his heels together. To his surprise, the smile on Mrs. Valac’s face faltered.

“Please don’t do that when addressing me. I am not your master, and neither is any demon. Do you understand me?”

133 did not. He was working for his atonement from her. Wouldn’t that make her his commander, even if only temporarily? Despite that, he nodded his understanding.

“Good. I’ll be in the house if you need me.” With that, she went back inside, and 133 got to work. By the time the sun was in the center of the sky, he had replanted everything he had torn out. He stared at his work, feeling confused. That couldn’t be all he needed to do. Surely there was more that needed to be done to earn atonement. And so he went to the land next to the garden, and started digging. Soon he had expanded each section by a row. He was about to start on the second when Mrs. Valac came back out.

“Alright, you need to take a break. Come inside, I’ll get you some lunch.”

133 felt a spike of panic go through him. Had he done something wrong? Mrs. Valac’s face no longer bore the smile it had before, and she seemed concerned. Still, he made his way over to her, and stepped inside.

She gave him a small plate of vegetables that had been cut up and cleaned, and there was the meat of some strange creature on the side, as well as a glass of water. 133 stared at them, unsure why he was being given more food. Mrs. Valac sat down opposite of him with a sigh, some ancient part of her chair creaking as she did.

“You can’t just keep working that long. I don’t want you to just drop dead out there,” 133 was suddenly able to place what the concern in her face was about. It was concern for him. He didn’t know why. He was just one soldier. Any concern directed in his direction would be concern for his entire regiment. Having the entirety of it baring down on him felt wrong. It was like if he had turned his entire attention onto the smallest speck of dust that infested a dirty room. It wasn’t supposed to happen.

“I feel fine Ma’am,” he said. It was mostly true. He felt some fatigue yes, but he was used to far worse. This was nothing to him.

“I’m afraid I don’t believe you. Besides, you're still a growing boy. You hardly look older than Asmodeus,” she said, her attention burning into him. “Oh I suppose I can just ask. How old are you?”

“I am fifteen solar rotations old ma’am,” 133 said.

“… As in years?” she said, face creased with worry.

“Yes.”

She stared at him like he had said something wrong. He expected her to say more, but she didn’t push the subject any further.

“Well, you have lunch and then I’ll find something else for you to help me with after. You’ve done enough gardening for today.” With that, she got up and went into the children's room. He could hear her saying something, but he didn’t bother to listen. He was still trying to figure out exactly what had caused her so much worry. He gave up soon after and finished his food as quickly as he could, eager to get back to work.

She had him sweep the guest room and the living room, before she called him back to the kitchen, saying that she wanted to prepare something special that would take some time, and so would need his help.

133 didn’t know the slightest thing about cooking. When he mentioned this to her, she just shrugged and said she would teach him the basics as they went. They made a salad with pasta and garlic bread on the sides, as well as fresh lemonade. All of those things were new to him. He felt saliva gathering in his mouth.

Soon they had a table that was covered with food in front of them. 133 felt oddly satisfied.

“Now then,” Mrs. Valac said, a satisfied smile blooming on her face, “Clara, and hopefully Asmodeus, will be back right about… Now.”

Chapter Text

Asmodeus: Asmodeus had been impressed by Bablys. The school was state of the art, with large classrooms that were filled to the brim with tons of equipment and books related to the specific class taught in each one. The teachers had all seemed friendly as well, answering whatever questions had come up with speed and precision. All and all, he was looking forward to starting after the weekend.
He was flying back to Clara’s place with her at the moment. He could have gone to his own home, but he wanted to stay at her’s for just a bit longer, if only to keep an eye on the human, and perhaps to find out more about him.
The breeze whipped through his hair as they flew above the forest. The trees waved, the birds chirped, and purple and orange leaves danced through the air. It was truly–
Something moved.

A figure, tall and dark, darted through the trees. He assumed it had been some large animal, but something told him it wasn’t. Something else told him that it had been watching them.
He threw those thoughts to the side. He was being paranoid. He had barely gotten enough sleep last night anyway. It would do him no good if he started believing that every shadow was watching him.

A few minutes later, they landed in Clara’s yard. Asmodeus immediately noticed that the garden seemed to be larger than before, and that it had been fixed up to a reasonable standard.
When they entered the house, the tangy scent of lemons and garlic hit his nose. On the table was a spread of foods that looked absolutely wonderful. Mrs. Valac and 133 stood over it.
“Good to see both of you back. Who wants supper?”
The food was delicious, each bite a masterpiece in its own right. Asmodeus, Clara and 133 were sitting on the couch as they ate. Clara had elected to eat with them at her mothers suggestion, and it was clear she was just as curious about the human as he was.
Mrs. Valac joined them, sitting across from the couch on a rocking chair, staring at them. There was clearly something she had to say, although he couldn't guess what.

“So, I was thinking today, and I’ve come up with an idea that should help everyone. How would you feel if 133 joined you as a student of Babyls?”

Asmodeus choked on his pasta. To the side he heard 133 doing the same.

“Surely you can’t be serious. How would he even get admitted this close to the start of the year?” Asmodeus said, wondering if this was some kind of twisted joke the universe was playing on him.

“I have a few friends who owe me a few favors.”

“But he’s–

“Human? All the more reason to have him attend. This will allow him to learn more about the world, and if he can do that, that will make searching for a way back to the human realm all the more easier. Besides, it’s not like he’s going to find a magic portal in this house.”

“But– you can't– why–” Asmodeus was flabbergasted. Two days ago he had thought humans a myth. Now he was hearing that he would be helping a human at school.
“Of course, this is only if you're okay with it, 133.”
Asmodeus stared at the human, expecting him to deny the offer. He looked just as shocked by it as Asmodeus was, and just the day before he had reacted… poorly to being told that he was in the demon world.

“If you want me–” 133 started.

“No. I won’t let you go if you only do so because I want you to. You can only go if you genuinely want to.”

133 paused. His face contorted in strange ways. There was every emotion from frustration to confusion writ large on each of his features. Eventually, they settled, and he spoke again.

“I want to go.” Even a child could have told you that there was more to that statement that 133 was leaving out, but Mrs. Valac didn’t press him any further.

“If that's the case, you're going to need to pick a different name.” Mrs. Valac said. “I’m afraid the numbers won’t fly there.”
133 nodded, and Asmodeus knew that he would be dealing with the human for a lot longer than he had originally thought.

133 looked like he was about to simply collapse in on himself, like a magical spell gone terribly wrong. He picked at his pasta with none of the gusto he had shown before. And for once, Asmodeus felt pity for the boy.

133: “Alright, with that settled, Asmodeus and Clara can help you decide on a new name if you want. Just have one ready by Sunday so I can get the papers in for you on time.” Mrs. Valac said before getting up to clean the dishes as the children finished their suppers.
Idly, 133 wondered what level of heresy he was reaching at that point. He picked at his pasta, his appetite suddenly gone, replaced by worry and anxiety gnawing at his gut. He mentally shook himself. He had a task, and he would complete it, just as the Death Korps always did.

Despite that, he still could not see the necessity of a different name, and when he tried to think of a new one, he came up with numbers, titles, and objects. And since he couldn’t exactly name himself ‘Las rifle,’ he found himself at a loss. He turned to the demons. For some reason he felt reluctant to let them decide his name. He couldn’t pin down why exactly, but it just didn’t feel right.
Asmodeus and Clara both wore thoughtful expressions, but there was something different about Asmodeus. Reluctantly, he spoke, each word seeming to sting a bit as he said them.

“Do you two have any ideas?”

The demons looked at him with two very different expressions. Clara had a near blinding grin, one that resembled her mothers, except much wider, as if it had never experienced restraint.
Asmodeus looked like he had just heard that a comrade who had shared rations with him had been mortally wounded.

“What about Scary Mask Man?” Clara said, without a hint of irony in her voice.

“Clara! Be serious about this!” Asmodeus snapped, leaning forward like he was about to shake the smaller demon until she said something more sensible.

“But that's what he was when we first saw him!” Clara pouted.

“That doesn’t make it a reasonable name, Tiny Green Gremlin!” Asmodeus retorted. Clara sunk back a bit at that, before crossing her arms and refusing to meet the other demon's gaze.
Instead he turned to 133, the nervous expression he had earlier returning to him before he spoke.

“Do you mind if I ask a personal question?” 133 didn’t see any problem with that. He already had told them quite a bit about himself, what was a bit more about one guardsman. It wasn’t exactly going to bring down the imperium if they knew any more about him at this point. And so he nodded to Asmodeus.

“Okay… Then can you tell me why your parents chose numbers for your name instead of… literally anything else?” His words had gotten quieter over the course of the question, until they seemed to be barely a whisper. There was a sudden blush on his face, and regret bloomed with it.

“If you don’t want to answer that’s fine,” he said hastily, waving his hands in front of him like he was trying to clear the air of his previous words.

“It’s fine,” 133 said. “I actually don’t have a name. 133 is just… something I’ve been calling myself recently.” He suddenly found himself wondering why exactly he had started doing that. There was no need to. It served no purpose to him, or to Krieg.

“Surely you must have some sort of name?” Asmodeus said incredulously.

“I believe we are given designations, but they are just to make tallying the dead easier. They're too long and clunky to be used for anything else.”

“Tallying the dead?” Asmodeus said, face turning pale. 133 didn’t know why. It seemed like a perfectly good system to him.

“That's… that's horrible! What tyrant would do that to their people? Was it that Emperor you mentioned?” 133 was taken aback by the outburst. Simultaneously, he felt insulted that anyone, especially a demon who knew nothing of the emperor, would dare to call the master of mankind a tyrant.

“The Emperor is not a tyrant,” he said defiantly.

“Then why is it that humans have no names, other than clunky designations to tally the dead?” Asmodeus shot back.

“Allow me to explain, demon.” 133 said, clenching a fist at his side.

“Krieg is a world that rebelled against the emperor. Traitors nearly took full control of the planet, and terrible weapons had to be used to prevent them from winning. It took five hundred years after that for the loyalists to claw back control of the world. Ever since then, everybody who is born on Krieg lives to only to try and redeem the world of it's sin. Only by fighting and dying in the Emperor’s name may we earn atonement in his eyes. He is not a tyrant, he is a god, and those who defy him must be purged for the imperium to survive.” He spoke without a single doubt in his mind, and he clung to that conviction, telling himself, even as he finished his spiel, that consorting with these demons was simply a means to an end.

Asmodeus looked shocked. Good. It meant he understood. Instead of pushing the subject any further, the demon simply stood up, and retired to the guest room, shutting the door behind him.

After that, Clara just… stared at him. He wasn’t exactly sure what she was thinking. Finally, just as 133 was beginning to think she may have fallen asleep with her eyes open, she spoke.

“You're scary.” She said, without a hint of fear in her eyes. The contrast between her words and the look of sheer curiosity plastered on her face made him feel like he had misheard her.

“Thank you?” 133 said slowly, trying to figure out whether or not to take that as a compliment or an insult.
Clara suddenly clapped her hands together.

“What about Rowan?” It took him a moment to realize she was back on the name thing. He thought about the suggestion. He mouthed the word to himself, replayed the sound of it in his mind and found… that he liked it. It sounded right. He didn’t completely understand why he thought that, but he hardly understood half the things he had experienced in the last week.

He nodded to Clara, who pumped her fists in the air. He confirmed that was the name he wanted to Mrs. Valac a few moments later, and absently wondered just what he had been thrown into.

Asmodeus: After Asmodeus closed the guest room door behind him, he stood there for a few minutes, hand still on the door knob, trying to process what 133 had said. He tried to imagine what it would be like, to not have a name. To be a simple series of numbers. To be that… miniscule. Perhaps it was because he was a noble, but the very concept of that was something his mind refused to comprehend. And there was more still.

133 had referred to Krieg as ‘a’ world. Not ‘the’ world. He had spoken of it simply as one of many. That brought up something else. Scale. Just how many humans were there? How many in one world. Millions? billions? trillions? He turned his thoughts elsewhere trying to find something else to think of and yet only finding more lines of questions that he had to follow.

He replayed the conversation in his mind, and watched the conviction in 133’s eyes. The way that he had spoken, the sheer conviction that what he said was right burning in his eyes. It was scary, to see that level of conviction in someone who, to him, should be focusing on his studies. And then a much more terrifying thought came to his mind, one that mixed with the previous ones to form a new, horrible picture.

What if humanity turned its eyes to the netherworld?

The images flashed through his mind. Endless soldiers in gas masks, just like 133, pouring through portals. Cities burning. Demonic banners falling, sacred sites desecrated. He wanted to think that all those images were simply his mind overreacting to hearing something so strange, but the more he thought about it, the more the images stuck. He remembered 133’s words, how he had said that demons brought humanity nothing but harm, how he had said that the only way for those on Krieg to ‘atone’ was with the deaths of their enemies. Asmodeus held no illusions that such an enemy could be reasoned with. And considering the scale of humanity, it would only be a matter of time before even the most powerful demons were overwhelmed. It would be a war of attrition, and the netherworld would lose.

Asmodeus let go of the door knob and slipped into bed. In a way, he was suddenly very glad that 133 was coming to Babyls with them now.

At least that way, he could keep an eye on him.

Chapter Text

Rowan: He saw fire. He saw mud and blood. He saw endless rows or wire running down the length of a trench that stretched just as far. He tried to rise to his feet, but instead of moving, his limbs remained still, as if they were made of stone.

Suddenly, his exact surroundings became clear. He was buried in a pile of corpses, each one a krieger, with the colors and markings of the 184th siege regiment. There was blood dripping from some of the corpses, and Rowan felt some of it drip down from his helmet and onto his exposed face. Instead of the usual warm sensation though, the blood felt like it was burning through his skin.

He wanted to scream, wanted to claw his way free of whatever horrid place he had been thrust into, but he couldn’t move. He tried to open his mouth, but no sound came out. Panic hit him. He commanded his body to move, commanded his mouth to scream again and again and yet they wouldn’t obey and the blood was burning him it was burning him  burningburningburningburn-

They were looking at him.

The corpses, some mangled beyond any hope of recognition, turned toward him, the lenses of their gas masks trained squarely on him. Their forms writhed as they turned. And then, a terrible chorus of voices, some raspy, some that sounded like they were speaking even as blood filled their throats, entered Rowan's ears. And as more and more blood dripped down his face, he heard a single word.

“Failure.”

He screamed.

***

He woke up screaming. The moment he realized where he was, he clamped his mouth shut and stamped down the terror that got trapped in his throat. After what felt like a century, he opened his mouth again, and took a long breath. He tapped a hand to his face, and found nothing wrong. Good. It was just a dream.

He got out of the sleeping bag and stood up. The room was the same as it had been before, but there was a crisp blue school uniform, with white accents and a neatly folded collar sitting on the table. It reminded him of the mordian’s and their desire to always march into battle with a crisp uniform and polished boots.

Asmodeus suddenly appeared from the guest room, looking worried.

“Is everything alright? I heard shouting.” the demon said, staring directly at Rowan, as if he expected him to fall apart at any moment.

“I’m fine.” Rowan said, more forcefully than he had intended. Asmodeus’s expression didn’t change, but he didn’t push the subject.

Rowan grabbed the uniform and went into the bathroom to get changed. A minute later he looked in the mirror, and decided he looked ridiculous. The blue was far too bright, and the uniform being only a single layer made him feel naked compared to his usual gear. He had his militarum issued pack on his back, and its familiar weight gave him some comfort, although it felt wrong without the rest of his gear. Mrs. Valac had also given him some perfume to help hide his ‘human scent,’ and he used that liberally over his entire body.

Upon exiting the bathroom, Rowan found the main room a scene of relative chaos. Mrs. Valac was attempting to corral the children, who had found some reason to fight and cry more than usual. Asmodeus was doing his best to help, but seemed only to be able to stand on the outskirts and keep from making things worse. Clara had managed to separate herself from the mess, and was pulling on a pink backpack.

“You guys get going! I can handle things here.” Mrs. Valac said over the commotion. Asmodeus looked like he wanted to protest, but quickly saw there was nothing to be done, and the three of them made their way out the door.

It was good to be back in the woods, Rowan decided as they made their way down a small dirt path. He had missed being on the move. Asmodeus looked like he was chafing quite a bit at being made to walk when he could fly, and Clara just looked excited to be doing anything.

Soon enough they came to a clearing, and the form of Babyls took shape. It was a fortress. It had massive walls, covered in spikes, with towers lining much of it. The citadel behind that was the main feature of the horizon. Rowan wanted to say that it would still be relatively easy for a Krieg siege regiment to take the school, but there was a massive chasm surrounding the whole building, with only a single natural stone bridge crossing the over from the forest to the school. In the event of a siege, they would probably just settle for bombarding the building until it was rubble instead of wasting endless troops on near hopeless assaults.

A flock of demons appeared above them, wings carrying them toward the school. Their words slammed into Rowan’s ears, and this time, he understood them.

Humans, they are loved

For after all they taste so very good

Suck them dry, blood and plasma

Flesh and marrow, their whole brood

May the sound of our mighty wings as we fly

Bring you fear

Bow to us, we are demons

In your nightmares we appear

As we sing this song from our crimson-soaked lips

Now you know

Scream for us, we are demons

And to hell you all will go.

… He had been informed more than a few times that humans were a large part of demon mythology, and that in most if not all stories it was demons who were superior to humans, but hearing it spoken out loud in such… cheery voices, was different. It made the ideas into reality, and shoved the fear of that right into his face. His mind screamed at him to stop walking, to turn around and disappear back into the woods like nothing had ever happened before Asmodeus or Clara could stop him. But instead, he forced himself to do what he had done throughout the entirety of his life, from training to the battlefield. He shoved the fear down, and commanded his body to keep walking.

He forced himself to think of something else. He had occasionally still thought of himself as ‘133,’ and it would be very bad if he said that to one of the demons who might want to eat him, so he focused on that instead, trying to drown out the accursed song.

‘My name is Rowan, My name is Rowan, My name is Rowan, My name is Rowan, My name is Rowan, My name is Rowan, My name is Rowan, My name is Rowan, My name is Rowan, My name is-’

“Rowan!”

He looked up, startled by Asmodeus’s voice, and found that they were nearly at the gate. He had spaced out.

“Do you have everything?” Asmodeus asked, voice filled with suspicion, as if he believed that every thought Rowan had was somehow wrong.

What Asmodeus had referred to were the papers that Mrs. Valac had given him so that he could be admitted by the staff. Frankly he had no idea what most of them meant, but he knew what to do with them, and that was all that mattered.

They arrived at the gate, and Asmodeus and Clara were given nods by the woman at the gate, a demon with long red hair, a set of dog ears above her normal ears, and a clean black top with a scarlet skirt. She looked Rowan up and down, examining his every imperfection, as if waiting for him to come apart under her gaze. She was holding a clipboard, and she looked down at it after what felt like an eternity.

“I don’t recognize you from the tour? What’s your name?” She said

“Rowan.”

“Well you're not on the list. Do you have an excuse for that?” Her gaze returned to him, and her eyes bored into his, trying to get at his mind. Instead of responding, he shoved the papers at her, keeping his back straight, pretending that she was simply another drill instructor, and meeting her gaze.

She looked over the papers, expression unchanging. Eventually she spoke again.

“You're all set. Go to that guy over there, he’ll tell you what class you’re in.” The red haired demon said, gesturing to another demon sitting at a folding table, before handing back his papers.

He resisted the urge to breathe a sigh of relief, and walked past. For a moment, he was hit with the terror that he might be utterly alone in this place, but thankfully, Asmodeus and Clara were simply nodded past and joined him at the table a moment later. The demon there was far less intense then the one at the gate, and simply asked their names, and took Rowan's papers again. Eventually, he spoke.

“You three are in the misfits class,” he said in an even tone, looking to see their reactions. Asmodeus opened his mouth as if to object, but then clamped it shut. Clara just looked happy to know they were in the same class. As for him… He looked himself up and down, considered for the thousandth time that this was quite the odd situation to be in, and decided that the class choice made sense.

Asmodeus was muttering to himself as they moved away from the table, clearly unhappy with the decision. Eventually he sighed.

“Come on, let's go to class.” Asmodeus clearly knew where he was going, and Rowan just did his best to follow the demon, trying to keep his eyes forward, but finding them constantly drawn to the unique architecture of the school, and the fancy decorations that lined walls. He had never been in a place like this before, and in his mind he thought that this must be what the halls of planetary governors looked like. Slowly though, as they descended lower and lower into the bowels of the school, the walls shifted, until it was clear they had descended into a cave, walls devoid of decoration. Eventually, they were standing in front of a large wooden door, cracked and discolored by age, with a metal plate engraved with the word ‘misfit’ on it.

For a moment, they all just stared at the door, neither he nor Asmodeus wanting to go through it. And then Clara promptly pushed past both of them and shoved it open, showing him the first glimpse of demon school.  

Chapter Text

Asmodeus: Clara went scrambling in, and immediately began looking around. The room was spartan, especially compared to the rooms above. There was a smattering of necessary things, like paper and books, lining the windowless walls. There were a few rows of desks for the students in the center of the room, and a desk for the teacher to the side of a large black board with well used sticks of chalk sitting on the lip of the board.

There were plenty of students already present. One of them, a boy Asmodeus remembered being named Sabnock, was tossing a bronze dagger around in his hands. He had not bothered with a uniform, and was wearing an outfit that made him look like he was ready to get in a fight at a moment's notice. He was wearing a necklace with three different types of metal on it, each in the form of a simple rectangular tag, and he casually on the bronze tag as he tossed the dagger. Suddenly he threw the dagger into the black board, just barely missing Asmodeus.

He wheeled on Sabnock, who burst out laughing.

“What the hell was that about?!”

“What? Can’t we have a little fun here?” Sabnock's voice was gruff and filled with confidence.

Asmodeus was about 2 or 3 seconds away from jumping the other demon when Rowan slipped past him and made his way to the back of the class, clearly hoping to grab a chair and try to blend in. He found one, pulled it out, and sat down, back straight, staring at the black board.

“Hey, new kid, I don’t remember you from the entrance tour. What’s your name?”

“Rowan.” The human said, keeping his eyes pointed straight. Sabnock kept looking at him, clearly trying to size him up. Rowan didn’t react.

“… yoo hoo, anyone home there?” sabnock said, waving his hand in the air over his own eyes. Rowan finally looked at him, and Asmodeus would’ve sworn the human’s hands had begun to tremble ever so slightly.

“...Is there something you want?”

“Yeah, I want you to know that it doesn’t matter who you are or why you're here, by the end of this day, I’ll have a higher rank than you.” He spoke louder with each word, making it so that it was less like he was talking to Rowan, and more like he was issuing a challenge to the entire room.

Suddenly, Asmodeus heard the door open. He turned and saw Naberius Kalego enter the room, black clothes seeming to flow behind him as he moved to his desk. Everyone quickly moved back to their own desks, although sabnock placed his feet on his desk, seemingly out of spite. Asmodeus sat down next to Rowan, and Clara followed suit.

“Alright, I assume everyone knows who I am at this point. I suppose I will congratulate all of you for making it into this prestigious school. Now get moving. You lot have familiars to summon, a course to fly through, and ranks to get, and I have neither the time nor patience for delay.” His voice was loud and commanding, and unlike Sabnock's, there was the aura of actual authority behind it, as well as the will to use it. Asmodeus got up slowly despite that, as did the rest of the class. Except for Rowan. He was nearly halfway to the door by the time the rest of them had made it to their feet. Each step was rigid, precise, and timed immaculately. It made the military upbring rather obvious to Asmodeus, and he wondered if the other students were noticing.

The class made their way back up to the surface and took a room filled with candles. Kalego explained the summoning process quickly. It was simply to take a parchment, draw a seal on it in blood, in this case Kalego’s, and hold it over a candle. When the parchment lit, the familiar would appear from the smoke.

Each student went one by one, summoning all manner of strange creatures until it was Asmodeus’s turn. He grabbed a parchment, cut his finger, drew the seal, and held it over the candle. The parchment burst into flame, and suddenly the smoke was coiling around him, far more than should have been possible coalescing around him, until it suddenly turned itself into a massive serpent, with ragged wings, large horns, and the tip of its tail burning with bright flames.

As he returned to the crowd, he noticed Rowan staring at him and his familiar, and he suddenly realized that the fact that Rowan was human was about to become a problem. He had no idea if the ritual would work for a human, and Rowan was probably thinking something along those lines as well. Or cursing him as a heretic and mutant. Either way, he went over and spoke to the boy.

“You’ll need to do the ritual. It would be very odd if you didn’t, and even if it doesn’t work, you should still be mostly fine, and we can make it up on the course later. Familiars can’t harm you anyway, so no matter what, you should be fine.”

Rowan looked at him, giving an appreciative nod, before going over to the summoning area. He cut his finger, and drew a crude imitation of Kalego’s symbol on it. He hesitated for a moment, and then held it over the flame. Much to Asmodeus’s surprise, something did happen. The smoke formed into a tiny shape, before becoming a tiny bird with two heads. It had golden feathers and pitch black eyes.

Asmodeus expected the human to flinch away from it, but instead, recognition glinted in Rowan’s eyes, and he let the bird land in his hands, staring at it like it was an old friend, before letting it hop up to his shoulder. The bird looked out from its new perch, and Asmodeus swore he could sense its judgement falling across the room.

The rest of the summoning was uneventful, and soon Kalego was yelling at them again, having them follow him to the peak of the school, where the flying course would start.

Asmodeus was getting rather sick of walking everywhere by the time they made it to the peak of the school. They stood at the edge of a sheer cliff that led straight into the chasm that surrounded the school. Out in front of them was the flying course, a long stretch of rocky peaks and hills teeming with all manner of life.

The flying course was the second part of the process in which a demon's first rank was decided. They were to fly through a specifically marked course, staying below the peaks, and trying to reach the end as fast as possible. At the end, a creature known as the rank owl would give them their rankings. It had been explained to them earlier, and according to other students, so long as you took the normal course, it really wasn’t that difficult. There was a harder, alternative course as well though. That course, known as cutthroat valley, had a fearsome guardian in it. Students who made it through were often given higher ranks, but that came at much more risk to themselves.

“Before we start, this year cutthroat valley is off limits to students. The guardian has been acting strangely and the school has determined the risk to students is higher than acceptable.” Kalego said.

…Well that made things quite simple.

“WHAT! Cutthroat valley is always an option! This won’t stand!” Sabnock shouted angrily. While some students shifted slightly away from the large demon, Asmodeus simply thought Sabnock sounded like a petulant child.

“I am going through Cutthroat Valley! Nothing else will suffice!” Sabnock said defiantly, locking eyes with Kalego as the teacher scowled.

“Like I care. The course will remain the same. Prepare yourselves!” Kalego said. All the demons spread their wings and crouched down, ready to leap into the air. Asmodeus’s eyes scanned the class, trying to figure out which students might end up competing with him for the top spot. And then his eyes fell on Rowan.

The human was just standing there, somehow looking paler than usual. Why wasn’t he–

…Oh. Oh no.

And then Kalego’s voice was cutting through the air again.

“Begin!”

Rowan: Humans could not fly. He had been hoping that this would remain a mundane statement of fact. Now however, as most of the misfits took off into the air, it was clear that would not be the case. He stumbled forward toward the edge of the cliff, trying to figure out if there was a way he could scramble down the cliff and walk to the end. He quickly determined that that wasn’t an option.

Panic hit. They were going find out he was human, and all his fears were going to come true and-

“Hold on!”

Suddenly a pair of hands grabbed him, and he was being lifted into the air. He took a sharp intake of breath as he felt the ground leave him, and the air begin to flow past him. He looked up and saw Asmodeus holding on to him, gritting his teeth.

And then he made the mistake of looking down.

Asmodeus: Rowan was shrieking in terror. His legs kicked in through the air and his hands wrapped around Asmodeus’s arms, which were themselves wrapped beneath the humans arms.

Asmodeus had expected to have more difficulty carrying the boy, but he was actually quite light. The only real difficulty came from him kicking his legs in the air and his grip being nearly painful around his arms.

“Will you calm down!” he shouted, louder than he meant to. Thankfully, the words seemed to cause Rowan to regain some semblance of calm. His legs stopped kicking, and his grip loosened just enough that he was relatively certain his arms wouldn’t go numb.

“Thank you.” he said, exasperated. He heard Rowan mutter something, but couldn't discern the words. Probably an insult he didn’t know.

Clara flew up beside them, small wings carrying her over and around the pair.

“Want some help with that?” she said, pointing to Rowan, as if there was anything else he might confuse her offer for.

“Unless you gain an absurd amount of strength in an absurdly short amount of time, I don’t see anything you can do,” he said. Clara crossed her arms and pouted, but, thankfully, said no more.

Suddenly, he noticed Rowan was still muttering to himself. He focused, and was able to make out the quiet words.

“O Immortal Emperor: have mercy on us, miserable unworthies that we are. O Master of the Galaxy: Protect your flock from the Alien. O Keeper of the Light: Guide our Darkened path with your Radiance.

We are your Warriors and we are servants of Thee, We are free from Blindness of heart, Free from Hypocrisy, Vainglory and deceits, But captive to hatred, Malice and Anger, To the filth, the alien, the heretic.

By Thy Agony and Bloody sweat; by thy Golden Throne and Thy Death, By thy Destruction and re-emergence as the God of Men, Keep and strengthen us, We who fight for Thee.”

He launched into another prayer as soon as he finished. The prayer was a stark reminder of the other facts about humanity. Beyond the myths and simple facts that the demon world knew. It was a reminder of the society that waited just on the other side of whatever thin veil separated them.

Well… knowledge was power.

“So… could you explain more about this ‘God Emperor’ humans worship?” It wasn’t like he was just trying to drag info out of the human, he had heard from his mother once, during one of their many conversations about safety, that a good way to comfort someone in a scary situation was to get them talking about something they liked, take their mind off it if possible.

“The God Emperor is the master of mankind, protector of all. He was grievously injured by heretics during the horus heresy, and was entombed upon the golden throne on holy terra. In the 10000 years since, he has watched over his flock, and used his holy light to guide ships through the warp. It is by his will that humanity survives the horrors of the galaxy, and in his name that we slay the alien and the heretic.”

“...Does he have a name?” Asmodeus admitted to himself it wasn’t exactly the best question to ask, especially out of all the new ones he now had, but it had been on his mind for a while at that point, since they had last spoken about the emperor, when Rowan was still calling himself 133.

“No, he is simply the emperor.”

“Is he from Krieg then?”

“What? No. What makes you think that?” Rowan sounded incredulous, as if that had been the strangest thing he could have possibly said.

“Well you said people from krieg don’t have names, and the Emperor doesn’t have a name so I figured–”

“Those are completely different things!”

“Oh I'm sorry for using common sense to try and understand you. Clearly I was mistaken in doing so.” Asmodeus snapped back, wishing he could cross his arms.

“It makes perfect sense, you just need to use common sense better!” Rowan said, looking like he wanted to strangle Asmodeus.

Before they could continue bickering, Clara began excitedly pointing out the goal to them, and Asmodeus felt the human in his arms shudder with relief. It seemed like he thought he was gazing upon the emperor on his ‘golden throne.’ The goal was a mountain that had had its peak sheared off, and was now a flat landing zone with a large pole topped by a purple banner with a black eye.

Rowan fell to his knees and patted the ground over and over again when they landed. They were the first ones there, and slowly more and more of the class began to arrive. Kalego arrived with them, watching for stragglers and marking things on a clipboard. Other demons bantered with each other as the rest of the class trickled in and waited for Kalego to announce the results.

And Sabnock was nowhere to be found. 

Chapter Text

Rowan: He stared at the sweet sweet ground for longer than he would have liked to admit, relishing the sight of it beneath his feet.

When he finally looked up, he was surrounded by demons, each talking to friends, saying things that were more than a bit heretical, openly and without the proper fear of the Emperor's wrath.

Kalego grimaced at the center of the group, a strange owl resting on his arm.

“Alright listen up! It seems that Sabnock has chosen to go through Cutthroat Valley. As he has yet to appear here, he has either been injured, or killed by the guardian. The guardian does not enjoy playing with its food, so it is most likely he is dead. Let that be a warning to you that when the faculty tells you not to do something, you should listen.”

A murmur went through the crowd, and the mood was immediately dampened. Sabnock had clearly been at least somewhat well known by the students, and grief was suddenly floating through the air. Emotion flowed through the crowd like a river, calm from above, and yet rocky and violent just beneath the waves. As for Rowan…

He felt nothing. He didn’t care about Sabnock before, and he didn't care about him now. But as he looked around, a thought creeped its way into his mind. Should he be feeling those things? Someone was dead. And that person didn’t seem to have had any grave sin that needed to be atoned for. It had simply been a mistake. He should have at least felt sad that Sabnock’s death would serve no purpose, or maybe even happy that a possible enemy of the Emperor was dead. But instead, he felt numb to it.

“With that out of the way, it is time for you to receive your ranks. Reach your hand into the rank owls pouch here, and you will pull out a badge with a rank on it. That is your first rank. Any who are unhappy with their rank would do well to try harder next time.”

The Owl flew over to a small perch, sitting on it and ruffling its feathers. It looked at the class, somehow just as judgemental as Kalego was. The first students reached into the bag, pulling out golden badges, with the top edges being fashioned into tiny horns, and black demonic symbols on their centers.

Mrs. Valac had explained that there was a rank system for demons, and that it permeated throughout their whole society, with the higher the rank a demon had, the more powerful they were. It made sense to Rowan. It was just a simplified version of military ranks applied to the whole of society.

Before he knew it, Asmodeus and Clara were pulling their ranks. Asmodues got a four, and Clara got a 2. And suddenly it was just him left. He took a breath and stepped up to the owl, reaching his hand into its pouch. The thing stared at him with such intensity that he believed it was trying to unravel him, to break him into his base components so it could examine them.

He suddenly found a badge in the pouch and he grabbed it. But when he tried to pull his hand out, he found he could not move. He looked back into the owls eyes, and as he stared into them, one thing was clear.

It knew.

It knew what he was, and everything he had done from his birth to that very moment. And it was judging each moment with the same scrutiny as he knew the emperor would judge him. Every time he had cleaned his rifle, every moment he had prayed, every failure. It was all laid out before the owl.

He felt himself tense, but he didn’t move. He refused to back down. And eventually, he was able to move his arm again, and he pulled out a shiny rank one badge. Relief flooded into him as he stepped away from the owl, pinning the badge to the collar of his school uniform. He was safe for at least a little longer.

Rowan looked to Asmodeus then. He realized he would have to thank him. He had, essentially, just saved his life. He didn’t know why. He had shown the most apprehension when Mrs. Valac had offered to give him shelter, and the flying course would have been a perfect time to simply abandon him and let the faculty or the cliffs sweep him away.

He was torn from his thoughts when one of the students shouted something. One of them, a boy with yellow hair, was at the ridge of the landing pad, pointing at something far below. The class rushed over, asking what the boy had seen. When they looked over the ridge, those questions stopped.

Below them, stumbling desperately towards the base of the landing pad, was Sabnock. He was covered in blood, his hair matted, his clothes torn. He walked with a limp, and one of his arms was hanging at an awkward angle, while the other one was covering his neck. Rowan had the stray thought that Sabnock would have made a good Korpsman.

“Help! Please, help me!” Sabnock's voice filled his ears. Kalego was already tearing down the ridge, reaching Sabnock in moments. He grabbed the demon and hauled him over his shoulder, eyes scanning every corner of the valley for danger, before bringing him up to where the rest of the class was.
Kalego laid Sabnock out and yelled into a phone for a medic to hurry to the area. It was a strange change of tone for him. One moment he had been using Sabnock's possible death as an example to the class, the next he was desperately administering what aid he could, doing everything in his power to ensure Sabnock’s survival.
Even now, Sabnock kept his good hand over his neck. The injured demon was blubbering as Kalego used healing magic on him, his wounds closing slowly.

“There was someone- he cut off my– and– oh hell–” Gone was the boisterous demon who had bragged to them all that he would be the highest ranked among them by the end of the day. He was replaced by a shell.
Kalego shushed him as his blubbering devolved even further into nothing more than a babble of syllables that formed no words. The class moved closer, some trying to get a closer look at Sabnock, but Kalego stopped them with a wave of his hand at them and an icy look.

“Return to the school and pack your bags. You are dismissed for the day. The faculty and the nurse will get Sabnock to a hospital. And we will handle whoever did this.” The last sentence was said with a venom that Rowan had rarely heard, even from commissars. It spoke volumes on its own. It said that Kalego would tear this valley to shreds in order to find whoever had done this to his student.
That led into another thought. It had not been the guardian that had done this to Sabnock. He had referred to a he, not an it. And Sabnock had survived, where Kalego had assured them the guardian was not one for mercy.

There would be time for him to investigate on his own later. For now, he let Asmodeus scoop him back into his arms and carry him back to the school. His mind swam, and the fear he had felt before was dulled, having been drowned out by the din of his swirling thoughts. The return journey to the school and the walk back Mrs. Valac's home was silent. Asmodeus had a haunted expression, and Clara looked similar.

By the time the group got back to Mrs. Valac’s place, his thoughts had settled. He had made a plan for the rest of the week, and now just needed to wait until he could put it into motion. When he explained the day's events to Mrs. Valac, she was more than a little concerned. She thanked him for the info, and then set about checking the locks on the windows and door.

Rowan spent the rest of the day gardening and helping Mrs. Valac around the house. He realized he was quite enjoying the gardening he did. It was strangely relaxing, each activity somehow soothing to his mind, from digging holes to plant seeds, or simply watering the plants. Each action was a salve in a way he couldn’t quite explain to himself.

Soon enough, darkness fell on the forest, and he retired to his sleeping bag, letting his mind wander, and feeling comfortable in the knowledge that he already had a thread to pull on after just a day of ‘demon school.’

He would be back home in no time.

Chapter Text

Rowan: The second day at Babyls was rather mundane. He was given a list of classes he had to take, and given a general introduction to them. They seemed more like classes an inquisitor should be taking. There was even one called torture 101, although it seemed more like a class about how to intimidate people.

There were already a thousand different rumors about what had happened to Sabnock. He couldn’t go from one place to another without hearing it whispered about. Of course Sabnock wasn’t in school that day, and the faculty was completely silent about the matter, so there was nothing but those baseless rumors for him to go off of.

As the day winded down, he made the decision to stay after for a bit to get a better lay of the land. He had only been able to navigate with Asmodeus’s help throughout the day, and he needed to be able to work on his own if he was to ever find a way back home.

It took quite a bit convincing to get Asmodeus and Clara to leave him alone. Asmodeus looked like he thought Rowan might manage to burn the school down, and Clara was… Clara.

After escaping his colleagues, he wandered the school, making a mental map and looking for things to investigate further. There were a lot of groups that met after school he noticed. They were apparently called ‘Battlers,’ and were dedicated to specific subjects.

… He was tempted to tell them that no one would make fun of them if they called them clubs. This wasn’t the army; they didn’t need a name like that.

Slowly, night fell, and less and less students passed by him. He was getting very familiar with the layout at that point. When he had started his little walk, everything had looked like something he should be investigating. But by the time the sun disappeared things were… still utterly fascinating. He had never been in such a place before. There was one church he had seen that had similar large windows, but he had never truly beheld something like this.

It was like a fortress that had never seen war, and so had been turned into a museum. There were paintings on the walls, and the windows were decorated with red drapes that danced with golden livery. Even when he had gotten fully familiar with the school, he still kept walking, wanting to take a closer look at a painting, or convinced he hadn’t seen something in one room or another. He had become so transfixed on the decorations, that when he turned a corner, he didn’t even notice a demon until they ran straight into each other.

Ameri: Ameri was in her office, going over some papers with an endless number of meanings, signing them with a fancy fountain pen. She sighed and set the pen, piling the papers together and tapping them on the desk. She had stopped paying attention to the papers a while ago. Her eyes had been focused on a large bookshelf on the left wall of her office from her for at least the last minute at that point. It was mirrored on the right side, but only the left had what her mind refused to leave. She stood up and went to the wall pulling one of the books out.

There was a click, and the bookshelf swung open, revealing another shelf of books. These ones were different. Instead of the demonic language being printed on their sides, there was something no demon could read. Instead of the fancy decorations most demonic books sported on their spines, these were mostly devoid of those, with some being nothing more than simple words in boring font. It was as if they wanted nothing to do with their demonic counterparts.

As if they were from another world.

They were no demonic books. They were the forbidden archive of Babyls. They told of events in the human world. Ameri had been given permission to view them by her father now that she was student council president.

Most demons thought that humans were just a myth. But those at the top knew the truth. Humans were real. They inhabited another realm. And occasionally, one ended up in the demon world.

She stepped closer to the books, suddenly feeling nervous. These were the tales of another world, and they had never been designed for demonic eyes. And yet she had to know.

Her hand shot out, and she grabbed one of them. It had a boy and a girl standing amongst a field of pink trees on it. She took a breath, and opened the book.

It was a comic book, with black and white images. Her eyes scanned the pages, trying to make sense of them. She couldn’t read the text boxes, but her heart raced as one of the characters fell over, and the other reached down to help them. The pictures focused so much on this. The characters' eyes grew bigger, and there were visual effects around both of them. Was it some kind of human magic, a spell of some incomprehensible purpose? Her heart couldn’t take it anymore. She put the book down and turned to leave

But her eyes caught on something else.

It was a section of books that were somehow even more drab than the rest of the forbidden archive. They were a simple brown, and their spines were worn beyond reason. There were two of them, each with a golden symbol of a double headed eagle one.

For some reason, she reached out and grabbed the smaller of the two. It was written in a much different language than the comic, although that didn't make it any more legible. She took it out, and began flipping through the pages. It was mostly text, but there were a few images of human warriors. They looked strange to Ameri. And then she started seeing pictures of things that were most definitely not human. There was one page with a large beast swinging an axe down on a human, and being held at bay by one of the humans hands, while the other hand was reaching for a knife.

Could they do that? Were they really that strong? Had all the myths and tales about humans lied?

She tucked the book under her arm and closed the bookshelf. She would examine this book somewhere else. She still had to check to make sure the school was clean. Then she would go home.

She stepped out of her office and began walking down the halls, eyes darting around, making sure no one had left a mess. She was the student council president, she was the pinnacle of reason, the peak of discipline, she was-

Reading the book as she walked.

She couldn’t help herself. It was just too interesting. She had to see everything the book was saying. It was like an instruction manual about the human world, how could she not.

She was viewing a picture of a large bug thing, trying to figure out exactly what the center pair of arms could possibly be used for, when someone ran into her.

The unexpected collision knocked them both over. The book went flying from Ameri’s hands as she tumbled over. A moment later, after regaining her composure, she looked over at who she had run into. It was the new boy she realized. The one who had missed orientation. He had already gotten back to his feet, having moved remarkably quickly. His eyes were on her for a moment, before suddenly they snapped over to the book, as if drawn to it by some unknown force. It was opened to the page with the soldier and the axe wielding beast now, the pages having flipped around as it fell.

Ameri had already had her suspicions about the boy. He had gotten into the school via the recommendation of someone else, only just beating the buzzer for admittance. Then he was carried by Asmodeus during the flying test. Carried. She had already begun to suspect that he was a human, and now that she thought about it, didn’t the familiar he had summoned look like the symbol on the spine of the book.

She didn’t say anything as he looked at the book. All she needed to confirm her theory was proof that he could read the human language. His hands were shaking as he stared at the page she realized. Suddenly, his face twisted into the perfect picture of disgust, and he tossed the book away.

“Worthless junk,” he said, turning back to Ameri

“You could read that?” She asked.

“What? Of course I could…..” The boy promptly went pale

“I mean, of course I could not.” the silence that descended on them was palpable.

“Come with me.” Ameri said. She was already thinking of what she needed to do. The first thing she should be doing is reporting the fact that there was a human in the school to the faculty or border control. But…

They walked down the halls, back to Ameri’s office. She had grabbed the book up from the ground before they left, and was now cradling it in her arms.

They arrived back at her office, and she closed the door behind them.

“What is your name?”

The boy gulped, and Ameri realized he was trembling. He looked like he was ready to leap for an escape at the first sign of danger, or even attack her if that failed.

“Rowan.”

“Ok I’m Ameri, the student council president.” She felt the tension in the room. She knew he could read the books with the eagle on them, and she should probably have him do that first but… what if he could read her the comics?

She went to the forbidden archive and pulled one of the comics out. She had to know. Maybe the comic had something important. It wasn’t like Rowan was just going to disintegrate after the first request.

Rowan: Rowan felt like he was going to disintegrate. He had been too caught up in his thoughts to avoid hitting her, and then had been too caught up in seeing something imperial to remember that he was not in the imperium. And now here he was, in a demon's office, with said demon having every reason to believe he was human.

Ameri went over to a bookshelf and pulled one of the books out. Rowan watched as it swung open, expecting an over the top torture rack, or a hungry beast to be waiting behind it for him. Instead, there was simply another bookshelf. Ameri pulled out one and handed it to him.

“Can you read this for me?”

… huh. That was… not what he was expecting. He figured it would be better to do what she asked, rather than see what would happen if he didn’t, especially when it was just reading a simple book.

He looked down, prepared to read the title and… He couldn’t read it. Whatever language it was, it wasn’t gothic. He opened to the first page, stared at the pictures, and quickly discovered that the whole book was written in that language.

Ameri was looking at him expectantly.

“Well?” She asked, her tone more nervous than he had expected.

“I can’t read this.” He said, keeping his tone flat. He didn’t know exactly how she would react to that. Fortunately for him, she simply looked dejected, and put the book back on the shelf. He was about to see if his inability to read the first book would allow him to bluff his way out of the situation when Ameri picked up the book she had been carrying when he ran into her, and handed it back to him.

“I know you can read this one.” She said, staring at him with a mix of apprehension and concern. Rowan gulped.

“I’m afraid you're mistaken. I can’t read any of these strange languages.” He said, trying his best to sound convincing.

“Lying about something like that is awfully suspicious. I wouldn’t want to have to report that to anyone,” the response was quick and smooth, a practiced charisma evident in her words now.

Rowan weighed his options. Panic was rising in his chest, but he forced it down. He didn’t need to do anything rash yet. If he followed this demon's orders for now, there was still a chance he could find a way out.

Besides, it wasn’t like there was anything useful in the book she had handed him anyway.

He looked down at the cover, and began to read.

“The Imperial Guardsman's Uplifting Primer,”

He had read the primer once. Krieg units weren’t issued it, but the cadian who had tried to explain names to him had pawned theirs off on him for a small lighter he had found. The prayers in it were of tolerable quality, but the rest of the information was junk. He had used the one he had been given as fuel for a small fire, and had forgotten about it.

He read the book with a cheery tone, hoping that if he read it in the correct manner he could convince the demon that some of it was true. She was certainly paying rapt attention to his every word. Her expression changed with each page turned, so it seemed like he might actually be having some success. Still, he found it difficult to not correct the information in the book. Even when he had first read it, it had come off as worthless. Rereading it now, it was even worse. He had seen people get torn to shreds by ork axes without them even breaking a sweat, and here this book was, telling people to use one hand to deflect strikes. He wondered how many guardsmen and women had been killed attempting to follow those accursed instructions.

“Do you not agree with the book?” Ameri asked.

The question snapped Rowan out of his thoughts.

“What do you mean?”

“You look like you want to tear the thing apart. And you did call it worthless junk beforehand.”

Rowan stammered. He must have let his disgust show on his face. He still wasn’t used to needing to moderate his features at all times. His mind still sometimes assumed there was a gas mask on him.

Ameri looked at him, concern blooming in her eyes as he stammered and tried to put his thoughts together. Finally, he took a breath, and collected himself.

“I just don’t think that most of it is plausible.” Ameri frowned at him as he said that, her eyes flicking between him and the primer.

“There is another book in that language, if you would like to see it.

Rowan perked up. Another book? Maybe it would be something useful, like a journal by whoever had brought the books with them. Maybe it would spell out the exact method he could use to get back home. Or maybe the books had just fallen into the nether world on their own and there was nothing useful at all. Either way, it was better than continuing to read the primer, so he nodded to Ameri, who got up and retrieved another book from the hidden shelf.

It was the Lectitio Divinitatus.

Rowan's eyes widened upon seeing it. The God emperors holy text? Showing up here? Perhaps it was a sign from the emperor. He tried to appear neutral about it as Ameri handed it to him. He immediately began skimming the pages, flipping past prayers, holy laws, and everything else, searching for a note, for anything that might show him the way home. Under his breath he prayed, he spoke the emperor's words, and he hoped.

And then his spirits were dashed. There was no holy light that shined from one of the pages, no key hidden in the pages, no note from another unfortunate soul that had slipped into the netherworld. Nothing happened as he flipped the last page and was greeted by the blank back cover.

… it was fine. He had barely started searching anyway. There were a thousand other places that needed to be investigated in the school and beyond.

“Are you okay?” Ameri once again startled him out of his own head. She was staring at him. She must have been expecting him to start reading.

“I’m sorry. This book is nothing useful. It's just a religious book. There is nothing in here that could interest you.” In truth, there probably was something that Ameri would find at least interesting in the Lectitio Divinitatus. He just couldn’t bring himself to read another word of it right then.

Ameri’s eyes bored into him, and for a moment he expected to be forced to read it anyway, but instead she simply sighed and took the book from him.

“I understand.” She looked out the window, “It’s very late now, you should get going.” She paused for a moment. “Do you have a phone?”

“No.” Rowan had noticed the fact that most demons seemed to have personnel vox equipment, but he had never mentioned it to anyone.

“You’ll need one eventually,” she grabbed a piece of paper and wrote something down on it.

“Here's my number. When you do get a phone, put that in so i can contact you. You'll be first to know if I find another one of those books you can read.”

Rowan stared at the numbers on the paper.

“Thank you.”

“Move along now.” Ameri said. Rowan did so, stumbling out of the office, feeling the day's activities catch up to him. He headed home, his head swimming in a pool of relief and  confusion.

Ameri: Ameri watched Rowan leave her office. He was a strange boy. He was also most definitely human. What she should have been doing was reporting him to border control. But was he really harming anyone? He just seemed like a scared kid. Did he really need to be sent away?

No, she decided. There was no need to do so. She would keep an eye on him, but so long as he behaved himself, he was a demon to her. She sighed, organized her desk, and headed out, content to see where the wind would blow next.  

Chapter Text

Rowan: Rowan had a phone. His first impression of it had been that it looked like a famished brick. His second was that he would have to find some way to smuggle it back to the mechanicus. Whatever systems it was using, it was better than any vox system he had seen before.

Mrs. Valac had gotten it for him when he had brought it up. He had already put Ameri’s number on it, as well as the other demons who knew who he was. Now, it sat comfortably in his pocket as he walked with Clara and Asmodeus towards Babyls.

He didn’t know why Asmodeus insisted on walking with him. Clara just seemed excited to be doing anything and he was currently a guest in her house, but Asmodeus didn’t have those reasons. He clearly preferred flying as well, so Rowan had no real idea as to why he chose to walk with them. He had gone back to sleeping at his own house, and yet still found the time to get to Clara’s place and walk with them.

It had been a week since the first day, and he had a routine at that point. Go to school. Go to class. Pay attention in case anything important is somehow mentioned. And then, at the end of the day, walk around the school and investigate any areas of interest.

He thought it was a pretty good strategy. It just hadn’t turned anything up yet.

He shook off his doubts. He just had to be patient. The emperor would provide him answers in time if he just kept looking.

They were up earlier than usual that day. Apparently there was some test in one of Clara’s classes that her mother wanted her to study for more, and considering that their house wasn’t exactly the quietest of environments, they were going in a couple hours early. Asmodeus looked like he was going to collapse from lack of sleep.

Suddenly, someone else appeared next to them, coming out from an intersection in the trail. The man seemed small and wilted, carrying his bag like it weighed a thousand pounds. His blond hair was as wild and unkempt as before, but the stray hairs seemed like they were wilting away.

It was Sabnock.

He looked over at them, and his eyes widened slightly as they fell on the group. An awkward silence fell over them all, and Rowan fidgeted with his hands, not wanting to be the one to break that silence.

“... Good to see your back, Sabnock. Is everything okay?” Asmodeus asked cautiously. There had been enough rumors going at school about what happened that any possible truth had become lost in the mire.

“Thanks,” Sabnock said, his voice quiet. Rowan wondered if it was even the same person who had bragged to him just a week before. He squinted at the demon. He was wearing the same things he had that day, except for his shirt, which had a large collar, there was also a bandage around his neck. He remembered the way Sabnock had kept his hand over his neck when Kalego had brought him to the platform. It was clear there was something there that he was trying to hide now.

“What happened to your neck?” Rowan asked. It was probably nothing relevant to him, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

Sabnock flinched at the question.

“It's nothing, just a cut that's taking some time to heal.”

“There was no blood running down your neck when Kalego brought you to the platform though.” Rowan pressed.

Sabnock flinched again and opened his mouth to respond, but before he could Asmodeus punched Rowan in the shoulder.

“Be polite! If he says that’s what happened that’s what happened.” He scolded. Rowan wanted to protest, to tell him that Sabnock was obviously lying, but decided not to push his luck. Instead he tried a different line of questioning.

“Why are you walking to school?”

Asmodeus looked like he was about to scold him again, but Sabnock responded first.

“I lost them in the attack.” It seemed that each word hurt to say. He had also rushed through the sentence, clearly not wanting to linger on the subject. Rowan wanted to press for details, but Sabnock kept talking. “I think you owe me an explanation for why you're walking as well.”

Rowan’s mind paused for a moment. He had been so caught up in his questioning that he hadn’t realized that, to sabnock, he was the weird one for walking. His mind struggled to formulate a response. Thankfully, Asmodeus responded for him.

“He was born with deformed wings that never grew large enough to carry him. He is new around here so me and Clara are helping him get to school and back for the time being.” The response was smooth and precise, leaving no room for doubt. Sabnock’s face softened with sympathy when he heard the words.

“I’m sorry that happened. I suppose it is good to know there is someone else who has to deal with that.”

Rowan was about to try and press Sabnock again, but a hard nudge to his side from Asmodeus told him that was a bad idea.

“I’m sorry for your loss as well.” Sabnock smiled slightly, and the group kept walking in silence for after that, the tension in the air now mostly relieved. Rowan’s mind however, was still wildly bouncing around, trying to connect the info he had to what Sabnock had said to anything useful.

Eventually, he sighed and stopped trying to connect the myriad of dots and just focused on the trail. They were almost to the school anyway. Slowly, the grey walls came into view through the trees, and then the building itself, and then–

There was something on the wall.

Asmodeus gasped as he saw it. Sabnock froze, and Clara seemed to shrink ever so slightly, moving closer to Asmodeus as she did.

On the wall, two black wings were mounted. They hung like trophies on a hunters wall. Both were torn and ragged. The trophies demanded attention, and got it from the demons.

But Rowan wasn’t looking at the wings. He was looking just below them, at a scrawl of red text.

Gothic text.

He stared at it, his mind somehow both refusing to believe it and desperate for it to be true. He read it again, letting his mind's voice sing the sweet words to him.

“Innocence Proves Nothing.” Those simple words were capped off by a large I symbol with a skull in its center, sitting between the two wings.

The symbol of the inquisition.

“Dear hell…:” Asmodeus muttered, horror mixing with anger as he looked at the display. His eyes flicked between it and Rowan. Sabnock fell to his knees, his shuddering in fear, horrid memories playing in his eyes.

Rowan looked at the demon, and then back to what must have been his wings pinned to the wall. A sudden thought occurred to him then, a simple flash in his mind to undermine the foundations of every other thought he had had in the last moments.

Sabnock was no heretic.

There was no way he even knew about the emperor's existence, no one in the netherworld did. His thoughts turned back towards his life before the netherworld, to all the times he had been told of what the inquisition did to heretics, and to make sure he never ended up on one of their racks. And then his mind betrayed him. It told him that maybe, just maybe, the inquisition might come for those who had shown him shelter and kindness. And then him next.

He felt the initial elation in him die, mixing with the fear of the worst case scenario. He considered the situation again. It was probably just a single inquisitor, falling through the realms in the same way he had. If so, maybe they were looking for a way home. Maybe he could meet up with them and join them in returning to the imperium. Until then however, he would keep looking for his own way home, and make sure that the inquisitor didn’t attack anyone he knew was safe. It would be saving the god emperor's agent some time by ensuring that those he knew were innocent did not end up on the rack.

There were tears running down Sabnock's face. Asmodeus moved over to him, and was trying to comfort the other demon. Eventually, he turned back to Rowan and Clara, face cold with anger and confusion at what he had seen.

“I’ll help Sabnock get home. You two head back to Mrs. Valac's house. I have a feeling school will be cancelled today.” With that, he helped Sabnock to his feet and took him back down the path he had come from. He stared at the brutal display for a while longer, until Clara tugged on his sleeve, clearly wanting to be anywhere but here. With one last look at the proof of other humans in the netherworld, he turned away, and marched back down the trail with Clara, his path blurred by strange visions and doubts. 

Chapter Text

Asmodeus: Rowan had explained what exactly the symbol on the wall had meant. It did not sit well with Asmodeus. It could never have at all. After all, who would find comfort in a state sponsored police force with the power to torture anyone they deemed ‘heretical’ at will? Well, who other than Rowan that was. The human had explained it like it was the most normal thing in the world.

School had been cancelled that day, and the faculty had initially tried to play it off as something going wrong with the school itself, some issue with the wall that they needed to have fixed. But some students must have seen the brutal display, because it was all anyone could talk about in the few student group chats Asmodeus was a part of.

Two days after the incident, a statement was released that said that there had been a deliberate attack on a student of the school, and that the person responsible— the “inquisitor” according to Rowan— would be found. The statement also said that there would be increased security at the school until said person was found, and that classes would resume the following week.

Asmodeus read the statement over and over again on his phone. Eventually he tossed it aside on his bed. He was back in his own house, and found his mind constantly wandering back to the mythical creature currently living just a short flight away. What Rowan had told him only reinforced his belief that the human world would win in a fight. He wanted to tell someone, anyone about what had happened in the time since he had met the human, but knew he would probably just sound like a madman if he didn’t have Rowan confirm it himself. Something which he knew would never happen.

He had elected not to tell the faculty about what Rowan had told him, not wanting to lead them back to Rowan somehow. It also seemed like the matter would be settled quite quickly. The inquisitor was almost certainly alone, and no matter what, the faculty at Babyls could almost certainly find and kill it before anyone else could be harmed, right?

Either way, the time passed before Asmodeus realized it, and suddenly he was meeting up with Rowan and Clara again, and walking to Babyls. They walked in silence, none of them particularly willing to start a conversation. Clara sagged slightly, Rowan walked in the same rigid way he always did, and Asmodeus did his best to try and match him. They turned the corner, and Asmodeus couldn’t stop himself from letting out a small sigh of relief when he saw the clean wall of the school. There was more security greeting them when they arrived at the gates, double the student council members from before the incident, and now one of the teachers watching every student who entered.

It was a strange sight, but Asmodeus was relieved to see that they were taking the threat seriously. It would be fine, he assured himself. He just had to prevent Rowan from doing anything stupid or getting himself killed. The faculty had the situation handled .

Rowan: The first day back was stressful for Rowan. He kept looking for Sabnock, his mind oscillating over to thinking about him and the inquisitor whenever it wasn’t worrying about his possibly inevitable demise. Of course, Sabnock wasn’t at school that day, so he was only left with his thoughts, which paced through his mind like wild animals, stalking each other, vying for dominance.

By the end of the day, he wanted nothing more than to go back to Mrs. Valac’s house and lock the door. He was getting up from his desk, grabbing his bag preparing to leave as quickly as humanly possible, when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He flinched, momentarily believing it was a demon come to collect him for some twisted ritual. But when he turned around, he only saw Lied and Jazz, two other members of the misfit class. Lied was blond with a few stray shocks of black hair, and Jazz just had black hair. They both wore the same expression, which was a casual smile. They seemed completely and utterly care free in their poses as well.

“Sorry for startling you,” Lied said. “You looked pretty stressed out. We wanted to ask i you wanted to grab something from the cafeteria with us. It would be a good way to relieve some of that stress, keep you from entering an evil cycle.”

… What the fuck was an evil cycle? He wanted to question them, but stopped himself before he could say anything incriminating. He had planned to reject them, but the words caught in his throat, and he was suddenly worried that he would sound suspicious to the demons somehow. And that was how he found himself in the cafeteria with the two demons, standing in the corner, instead of buying food.

Lunch was free for all students, but the school day was over, and the cafeteria was closed except for a small booth on the far side that sold snacks and Babyls merchandise. Rowan did not have any money. He had been panicking about how to tell the two demons that, when Jazz suddenly started moving towards the stand. He was about to follow and pray that one of the demons would pay for him, when Lied grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back.

“Are we not going to buy anything?” Rowan asked, confused.

“Just sit tight back her with me, Jazz is going to get us some free snacks,” Lied said with a mischievous grin. “His bloodline ability lets him steal things with ease.”

Wonderful. Now they were committing crime. He may as well just turn himself in at this point he thought. He felt more stressed than ever now. He watched as Jazz casually approached the counter, hands in his pockets. The shopkeeper was busy with another customer, and didn’t get a good look at Jazz as he stepped up to the counter. Jazz looked over all the different trinkets and snacks that were offered, as if he was just a somewhat indecisive customer. Then, he shrugged his shoulders and casually walked away, hands seemingly having never left his pocket. Rowan could hardly contain his confusion. All that stress, all that effort, only to just decide he didn’t want to steal anything? It was absurd, outrageous, ludicrous!

Rowan was about two seconds away from telling Jazz all this as the demon made it back over to them, when Jazz promptly pulled numerous snack bags from his pockets. His eyes darted between Jazz’s goofy smile, and the snack bags, his mouth opening and closing as he looked between them.

“Wha— how— when,”

“Nice haul Jazz!” Lied said, punching the other demon in the shoulder as Rowan continued to guffaw at the snacks.

“Thanks. It was pretty easy. The shopkeep didn’t even—”

“Hey! I recognize you! Give back whatever it is you stole or I swear I will tear those fingers off myself!” The shopkeeper shouted, interrupting Jazz in his moment of triumph.

Lied and Jazz took off giggling. Rowan scrambled behind them in a panic, not wanting to see just how much the shopkeeper meant those words.

***

If there was one thing about the netherworld Rowan liked, it was the food. It tasted divine. Back home, all he had had to eat were his rations, which consisted mostly of corpse starch and what he now understood to be a crude mockery of meat. He devoured the snacks that Jazz gave him, unable to consider anything but getting more of the flavors into his mouth.

They were sitting outside in the area between the school and the walls that surrounded it. If this had been the imperium, said area would be engineered to become a kill zone should any enemy manage to break through the main walls. Instead, it was covered in soft grasses and moss, with trees scattered about, swaying gently in the breeze. They were sitting under one of those trees, having managed to escape the shopkeeper's wrath without losing any limbs. The demons were sitting across from him in the cool shade, munching on their own snacks. Finally Lied spoke up.

“Jazz, I hate to say it, but you have the worst taste ever when it comes to snacks.”

“Hey! Don’t blame me for stealing what was available! All the good snacks were gone!”

Rowan nearly stopped mid bite. These snacks, these small chips, filled with tangy flavor, were considered bad? For a moment, he didn’t know how to feel about that. And then he was filled with the sudden desire to force both the demons to eat a can of corpse starch and see what they thought then. And then he promptly went back to eating.

Before long, he found himself out of chips. He looked around, thinking that there he had another bag, only to find that there was nothing left of any of them. Before he could process that any further, another bag landed in front of him, and for a moment, Rowan found himself thinking that the Emperor himself had blessed him. This train of thought was shattered by Jazz.

“I’m not going to finish these, and it seems you’ve taken quite a liking to them.” The demon said. Rowan gave a quiet thanks, somehow embarrassed by the act. The emotion only lasts briefly before he is tearing into the new bag.

“So… you two up for playing some video games in the gaming battler?” Lied said, his smile bright.

“Absolutely!” Jazz said.

…You know what? Why not?

Asmodeus: Surely keeping track of someone who couldn’t fly wouldn’t be that hard, Asmodeus had thought to himself at the beginning of the day. He had been wrong. They had different classes at the end of the day, and Rowan had clearly decided that he was too good to go home on time.Mrs. Valac had asked him to continue accompanying Rowan too and from school, and so now he got to be stuck in the school until he found him. Asmodeus had texted Rowan, but had received no response. He was just about to give up and just assume that Rowan had left without him when he heard noises coming from the gaming battler. He turned the corner and looked inside.

Rowan was in front of an arcade machine, holding a gun controller and pointing it at the screen. Jazz and Lied were on either side of him, cheering him on as he pulled the trigger on the controller over and over again. The game on screen was a simple one, with small imps running around on the screen, trying to get closer and closer to the player. There was a score counter in the top right corner, and a health bar on the top left. The health bar was full, and the score counter was rapidly approaching a million.

Rowan was absolutely focused on the game. It seemed as if he was seeing something else entirely, a different game, with different rules. Asmodeus didn’t care much for that at the moment. He just wanted to go home. He stepped into the room and cleared his throat. Jazz and Lied turned around, clearly surprised by his presence. Rowan stayed absorbed in the game, and before the other two demons could react, Asmodeus placed a hand on his shoulder. The human startled, whipping his head around, before realizing who he was. He calmed down, his expression shifting into one of annoyance.

“Hey!” Lied said. “Don’t just interrupt people like that!”

“This guy is a family friend that has difficulty flying. I have been asked to help him get home. It is late. Have a good night.”

With that, he dragged Rowan out of the room, hearing the arcade machine in the background play its game over theme as they left.

Rowan was greatly annoyed by this.

“What was that for!?”

“Mrs. Valac has asked me to accompany you home, remember? And right now, it is quite late, and believe it or not, I have other things I need to do.”

“But I was having so much fun…” his voice trailed off, and his brow furrowed, like he thought he had said something wrong. He straightened up after that, going back to walking in the same rigid fashion he had at the start of the day.

They walked the rest of the way back in silence.

Chapter Text

Asmodeus: Time passed slowly for him. Even as everyone around him seemed to forget what had happened and move on, Asmodeus couldn't stop thinking that something worse would happen. He was one of the only ones who knew the exact truth behind the culprit. Or at least he thought he was. He had yet to rule out the possibility of Rowan lying to him.

Speaking of Rowan, he had been spending more and more time with Jazz and Lied, although he seemed somehow embarrassed about it, as if it was somehow a crime to spend time with friends.

Then again, considering where he was from, that might actually be the case.

Either way, it forced Asmodeus to stay at Babyls for longer. While annoying, he didn't complain unless he absolutely had too.

Outside of school, Rowan had become a rather prolific gardener. Every time he flew to the Valac household, the garden had somehow expanded, and Rowan was often outside tending to it.

That was exactly what he was doing as Asmodeus landed with Clara. Asmodeus had been helping Clara study in the Babyls library, and since it was almost dinner time, they had decided to go back to her place. Clara had been frustrating to work with, but Asmodeus felt that they had finally begun to make progress on the first bits of the coursework.

Well, it had taken 3 hours, but it was a start.

Rowan barely looked up from the garden as they landed. It was odd how he had become such a natural part of the landscape at that point. Asmodeus barely registered him as odd anymore, and from a distance, he could almost pretend Rowan was just another demon, not some mythological creature from a place where everything was terrible and god was a corpse.

He and Clara studied until dinner was ready, and studied more after. Rowan sat across from them, a large book on demonic history, whose cover claimed to tell the entire history of the netherworld, sitting on his lap. He was already most of the way through it, his brow furrowed as he scanned each page.

Asmodeus couldn't shake the awkward feeling that had always hung between him and the human. He could never figure out how to ask normal questions around him, whenever he tried, his mind would simply drift to all the strange things about him, and he would lose the words in the flurry of his thoughts.

He took a breath. And for a brief moment, he had the words in his grasp. A simple question, worded in a way that was perfectly natural.

"So, Rowan, how is the garden going?"

Well, maybe not perfectly natural, but it was a start.

Rowan looked up from his book. He opened his mouth to speak, but for a moment nothing came out, as if this was the most unexpected question Asmodeus could have asked.

"It's going well. I've repaired all the parts I damaged, and if I keep working on it, I should be able to fill out the last section before the end of the week."

"... Do you have a favorite plant?" Wow Asmodeus. What an awkward and stilted question. You could have said something like, 'what are you going to plant in that section,' or 'what types of vegetables are you growing,' but instead, you could only ask what his favorite plant was.

He wanted to curl into a ball and pretend he didn't exist.

"I like the orange ones. They have more flavor than the others," Rowan said, his eyes lighting up briefly, and then filling with shame for some reason. He looked back to the book in his lap.

"The green ones are better than the yucky orange ones! You should plant more green ones!" Clara interjected. Rowan's head snapped up, an incredulous look plastered on his face.

"Those ones taste like nothing!" He said, with more force than Asmodeus thought the human possessed.

"Yeah, but the orange ones have bad flavor." Clara countered. The two of them stared at each other. Clara squinted. Rowan squinted. Clara squinted more. Rowan squinted more. Clara turned her nose up at Rowan.

"Humans have weird tastes. Back me up Azzy."

Asmodeus stuttered as the full weight of both Rowan and Clara's gazes came crashing down on him. Both of them clearly wanted him to back them up. After an embarrassingly long moment, he was able to speak again.

"I like the orange ones better?" It came out like a question, the opinion hastily formed as his cluttered mind pieced together what little info he had gathered on the topic of his favorite vegetable. It hadn't exactly been something he thought about a lot before.

Rowan pumped his fist in victory, Clara pouted, and Asmodeus heard himself chuckle a bit. This was a natural conversation. This was what he had failed to achieve with Rowan for weeks now. But it couldn't last forever. For a lot of reasons. For example...

"Have you found any good info in that book?" Rowan seemed to deflate ever so slightly.

"No. There was some stuff on humans in the mythology section, but there was nothing about how to get to the human world. Only theorizing about where the myth comes from."

Suddenly, a memory burst its way into his mind.

"Mythology class! It starts next week. Maybe something in that class will present a lead. You could even ask the professor a few questions."
Rowan's eyes snapped over to him.

"Really? That would be perfect!" He said, a smile forming on his face.

Rowan: He found himself faced with a problem that had reared its ugly head time and time again since he had arrived at Babyls. How in the emperor's name was he going to word his questions to the professor?

He couldn't exactly strut up to him and ask 'which way to the human realm good sir,' and if he was too vague he wouldn't get anything useful. The night before the first lecture of the class, he paced feverishly around the house, muttering ideas under his breath.

Tragically, the next day came, and he walked into Babyls, trying not to look like a complete nervous wreck. God, what was wrong with him? He had faced down far worse things than a conversation before.

He and Asmodeus were both in the class, thank the emperor, so it wasn't just him. There were other misfits there as well, including Jazz and Lied. The professor arrived shortly after the students. Asmodeus had told Rowan what he knew about the professor, a man named Balam, but nothing could have prepared him for the man who walked through the door.

He was a massive man, with broad shoulders and large muscles. He had a metal mask covering his mouth and nose, and long green hair that sprouted wildly from his head. His green eyes darted about, looking at each student as he strolled toward his desk. When Rowan looked up, he saw vines growing from the ceiling, the green branches creeping along from the gaps in the stone and wood, slowly working their way toward the students.

He began explaining what the class would be about. When Balam mentioned humans, Rowan took a deep breath, and prepared to raise his hand, a million ideas for questions swimming in his head. To his surprise, Lied beat him to the punch. But, as he started to speak, one of the vines shot out and wrapped around him. The demon yelped as he was taken from his seat and lifted to the professor's desk.

"You were asking about the difference between demons and humans right?" Balam said, despite the fact Lied hadn't had the opportunity to get more than a single word out before he had been snatched up.

"The differences are many, from the lack of wings to the lack of magic," Balam gently unfurled Lied's wings as he explained. Then, he suddenly went quiet, returning Lied to his seat, much to the other demon's relief.

"What would you do if a human appeared in front of you," Balam asked, a dummy with the word human written on its torso appearing to his side.

"I'd eat them obviously," Jazz said, leaning back in his seat.

"I hear they're delicious," Lied concurred. Rowan sank down in his seat slightly.

Balam stared at the dummy for a moment, his eyes somehow seeming to bore into the inanimate object.

"I would ask how they are still alive." A murmur went through the class, confusion hitting as the terrifying professor asked such a soft question.

"Humans have weak souls which are steeped in greed. That makes them nutritious for demons, yes, but there are other aspects to it. For example, the reason demons evolved horns and wings is because the netherworld is a harsh place, and wings allowed us to survive even if we lacked physical strength on the ground. For humans to have evolved without that must mean that they are more primitive, or perhaps that their world is much more peaceful than ours."

Rowan bites his tongue to prevent himself from correcting that sentence. Out of the corner of his eye he could Asmodeus doing the same.

The professor continued to lecture, the lesson switching from humans to the various animals that could be found in the human world. A change that Rowan did not appreciate because, as it turned out, large artillery bombardments had not been conducive to flowers growing, and so his knowledge on the subject was somewhat limited. He spent the rest of the lesson still trying to weave good questions for the professor to ask after class.

Finally, class was dismissed, and Rowan made his way to the professor as the rest of the class filed out.

"Hmm, was there something you needed," The professor asked looking up from a stack of papers that the students had filled out during class. Rowan opened his mouth to speak, and came to a realization. He hadn't planned this section of the conversation out. He had all the questions in his mind, but had not thought of a convenient excuse to ask them. Idiot. That was the most basic part! His eyes darted around, looking for something to say before landing on the sheet of papers. He knew he had done poorly on it. And just like that, he had his excuse.

"I was hoping you could help me with some of the material..." The words came out quiet and raspy, like he hadn't drank anything all day. If Balam had noticed the long pause, he didn't mention.

"If you don't have any classes now, we can go back to my office and we can go over whatever you like. I'll get you some tea there."

Rowan stifled a sigh of relief. He followed the professor to his office, which was just a stone's throw away from the classroom. Stepping into the office felt more like stepping into a forest than a small room. All types of different plants sat in pots around the room, and the smell of rain somehow seemed to permeate through it.

Balam made his way to a small tea kettle and cast a spell on it. The kettle suddenly began to steam and before Rowan knew it, he was holding a cup of tea and sitting across from Balam, who looked at him with eager eyes.

"I don't normally have students who want to spend extra time with me," he chuckled, "Tell me what you are confused about."

"I was having difficulty with some of the stuff involving humans," Rowan said, hating how quiet he sounded. He tried to sit up straighter, imagining Balam in a commissar's uniform. The professor smiled at his words, and took out Rowan's copy of the question sheet. For the next half hour, they went over every question on humans on the sheet. Balam never seemed to tire when he explained something, and Rowan found himself oddly transfixed on the subject. It was fascinating, seeing how the netherworld viewed humans and comparing it to the reality he knew.

Before Rowan realized, they had made it through the entire worksheet, and he hadn't asked any of his carefully planned questions. A bolt of panic lodged itself in his chest. No no no. He was going to miss his chance.

"You know, I don't get the opportunity to talk to people who are interested in mythology often. Maybe it's a dying field of study. Or maybe my teaching style drives people away," Balam said with a sigh. "So, I must thank you for your interest."

"I should be thanking you for helping me so much." Rowan suddenly felt sheepish, his mind not knowing what to do with the unexpected praise. The professor stood up and refilled both their cups of tea, the sound of liquid filling the cups echoing ever so gently through the room.

"Why are you so interested in humans? I've never had a student show so much interest in that particular area." The question was not hostile. It was asked in a simple and friendly tone that left plenty of room for anyone to give a small response and change the subject, or simply not respond at all. Which is what Rowan should have done. Instead, he felt the words leaving his mouth before he registered the exact sequence in which he said them.

"Becasue I am human."

There was a sudden silence that seemed to scream louder than any gun or artillery. The professor stared at Rowan as they both registered the words he had just said. Rowan, in between cursing himself and trying not to let the sudden, overwhelming panic consume him, looked around the room for an escape point. As for Balam, he was staring into Rowan's eyes, boring into his soul with an intensity not matched in anything Rowan had seen both in the Imperium and the Netherworld.

Rowan stumbled over words "I'm sorry– I didn't mean– you misheard–" Before Rowan could find another set of words to trip over, the professor fainted.

Rowan stood finally. Cautiously, he asked the professor if he was okay. Balam looked up at him, and Rowan saw his muscles tense. He was about to bolt for the door, when suddenly, the professor backed away from him.

"Is that true?" He said in a low voice. Rowan found himself nodding.

"You're an endangered species..." Balam's voice was filled with awe and wonder, as well as the tiniest hint of vindication.

"You aren't... going to try and eat me?" Rowan said slowly.

"No no. I have no interest in that." He felt himself relaxing slightly. And then suddenly, the professor was in his face, and had grabbed both of his arms.

"YOU REALLY SHOULD BE MORE CAREFUL WITH YOUR IDENTITY!" The professor shouted, shaking Rowan like a doll as he did, as if that might force the idea deeper into his skull.

The next four hours of Rowan's life were spent getting grilled by Balam about being careful, and how not all demons would react the same way. While he appreciated not being immediately devoured for his blunder, he felt it was a bit overkill.

He also knew that Asmodeus would probably kill him anyway once he got out. School had ended hours ago, and despite having been the one who recommended he speak to Balam, Rowan couldn't imagine he would be too happy at not being able to leave the school for such a long time. Again.

Finally, Balam finished tearing into him, and sat back slightly in his chair.

"Excuse me professor, I do need to go soon, but I have time for you to ask a question about humans if you want." It felt like a proper way of thanking the professor for not eating him. And since Balam had said he wouldn't tell anyone about the fact he was human, it felt even more deserved. The professor scratched his chin, his eyes whirling with possibilities.

"If you don't mind me asking, could you answer my question from class, about how you survive?" Rowan relaxed slightly. That was an easy enough question to answer.

"We survive by force of arms."

The professor seemed a bit taken aback by that answer, but Rowan had only promised him one question, and didn't want to have to explain everything he had told Asmodeus and Clara. He stood up.

"If you hear anything about a way back to the human world, please tell me." He plastered a smile on his face.

"I– yes. I will. If you ever need help with anything, feel free to ask me." Balam said.

With that, Rowan left Balam's office, somehow still intact.

Chapter Text

Rowan: Balam helped him study for classes whenever he had the chance, and Rowan more than appreciated the help. It was nice talking to Balam, and the tea the man served was incredible.

Two important things also happened during that brief time period. First, Sabnock started attending class again. Second, due to the fact that the school had yet to catch the inquisitor, the schools director would be holding an assembly to address the school and reassure any doubts that parents or students might have about their safety. As far as Rowan could tell that was entirely unnecessary, considering most of the students had moved on.

Well except for the fact that none of them could take their eyes off Sabnock whenever the demon passed by, a fact that seemed to weigh heavy on his mind. The demon seemed to shrink away from their eyes, trying to hide himself behind the popped collar that covered his neck. With that in mind, Rowan finally had a clear plan of action that he thought could get him home. Find Sabnock and talk to him about what had happened, find the inquisitor, return to the imperium using the information they both must have gathered up to that point. Well, it wasn’t that simple, but it was a start.

With that in mind, he now had to find a way to talk to Sabnock. Something which proved more difficult than he had expected. Sabnock seemed intent on leaving the moment each class ended. It took until the end of the day for Rowan to spot an opportunity.

It came out of pure luck. He had been walking down the hall, looking for Asmodeus, when he spotted Sabnock dart into a classroom as he turned a corner. He hurried over, and looked in, seeing that the demon was alone, he stepped into the room.

“Hey Sabnock. What's up?” He knew he sounded stilted and unnatural even as he spoke the words, but he could hardly contain himself. This might be his chance to find a way home. To finally serve the emperor again. For his part, Sabnock startled at his words.

“Wha- who- oh… hey. I’m just looking for a paper I dropped.” He sounded frightened. For what reason he didn’t know. Rowan knew he wasn’t exactly the most threatening thing to a demon like Sabnock, especially unarmed.

“What class is it for?” Rowan knew he had to go slower than before. When he had just bluntly asked before they saw the wings on the wall, Sabnock had reacted poorly. He didn’t want to fuck up again and possibly lose his only chance of extracting info from the demon.

“Torture…” Rowan sometimes forgot that the demons had that class. He had managed to avoid taking it thankfully, but that left him with little advice to give that he could use to keep the conversation going. His mind tripped over itself, he stuttered slightly. He had to figure out something to say, before Sabnock left.

“What happened on that day?” He knew the moment the words left his mouth that they had come out wrong, and at the wrong time. Sabnock stiffened, his hand going to his collar as he took a sharp breath.

“I don’t feel the need to discuss that with you,” he said, making to leave the room.

No! He couldn’t afford to lose this chance. He had already stayed in the netherworld for too long. If he didn’t start making progress now he wouldn’t have anything to show when he met the inquisitor, or worse, he might end up stuck here forever. A small part of him protested that thought, but he shoved it aside. He stepped between Sabnock and the door.

“Why not?”

“Because I said so.”

“You told me yourself that you would have a higher rank than me at the end of that day. What prevented that?” Sabnock had been cocky before, maybe spite would make him say what needed to be said. Maybe—

Sabnock shoved him. Hard. Rowan tumbled to the side. He hit the ground, and instinct took over. He was back on his feet within moments, braced for another strike. one which never came. Sabnock looked at him, anger bubbling in his eyes, breathing hard.

“Freak.”

Before Rowan could say anything else, Sabnock was gone, and he was alone.

Rowan stood there for a while, trying to comprehend what had just happened. He still couldn’t understand why Sabnock was so uptight about this. In the korps, if someone asked how another soldier was injured, it was a simple topic of morbid conversation. It was more entertaining than sitting around, and death and injury were shared experiences among them. The netherworld seemed to have somewhat similar values, so why was it so different?

Eventually, he left the room. It was fine. He would probably have more opportunities to figure things out. All he had to do was find the inquisitor, keep them away from those he knew, and figure things out from there.

He found Asmodeus and they walked back to Mrs. Valac’s house. Asmodeus was talking animatedly about something, but Rowan couldn’t force himself to listen. He just nodded occasionally, trying to force his mind to see the plants in the garden, to focus on anything but Sabnock's face.

He ate dinner with Mrs. Valac that night. The Valac children had all gone to some overnight event at a different school, and Clara was off bothering Asmodeus at his place, so it was just the two of them.

“Is something the matter?” Rowan was startled. He had been lost in his thoughts. He looked up. Mrs. Valac was done with her food, and he had barely touched his.

“I’m fine. Just thinking.” She looked at him with an amount of care and worry that seemed ludicrous. It made it impossible to think of her as a commissar, or compare her to anything imperial.

“I’m fine,” he said, looking away, and then shoving a spoonful of his dinner into his mouth, even though his stomach felt like it was tied in a knot. Mrs. Valac was still looking at him.

“Well, if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here. Ok?” Her eyes were filled with a kindness that flowed out and burned him.

“Ok.”

***

He had another nightmare that night. They came to him occasionally. The most common was some variation of being brought into an inquisitor's office, and pronounced a traitor. Sometimes the punishment was being servitorized, sometimes it was a penal regiment, and sometimes the inquisitor just shot him on the spot.

He woke up in a sweat. He considered this a good thing, because he wasn’t screaming. He got up and dressed. Looking in the mirror, he studied himself. It was getting harder to recognize the school uniform on his body as foreign to him.

He took a deep breath, holding it for as long as he could manage. When he finally breathed out, he felt better. What was he worrying about? It was just one failure. The Krieg were built on the philosophy that a failed charge was simply a stepping stone to a final victory. He would be fine. He plastered a smile on his face, and walked out to meet Asmodeus and Clara. The principal was addressing the incident today. He would probably find a lead there. It would be fine.

Asmodeus told him about Sullivan on the way to school. Apparently, he was one of the ‘three greats’ and was considered most likely to ascend to demon king and take the empty throne. Considering some of the things Asmodeus said about him, it was a mystery why he hadn’t already.

The Bablys auditorium was packed. Students were arranged by the class they were in, and the misfits were in the back. Fortunately, Sabnock was on the other side of the section from him, so he didn’t have to worry about that.

Rowan kept his posture straight as they waited for Sullivan to arrive on stage. He tried to find the confidence he had lost, nervously fidgeting with his bag, as if the emotion might have just somehow fell into it.

The stage was covered with a curtain, and soon it became apparent that something was wrong. The address was supposed to start 10 minutes ago. Rowan understood being a bit behind schedule, but Sullivan didn’t seem like the type to miss a deadline. The students were murmuring with annoyance, and the teachers seemed to share that annoyance, although they also had hints of concern flashing over their faces.

And then, finally, the curtains opened. The murmuring stopped, and the faculty looked relieved. For a moment in time, everyone forgot the wait.

The moment passed.

Sullivan hung in the center of the stage. At a glance, it looked as if he were just floating there, like he may have fallen asleep while flying somehow. But there were gaps in between each part of him, and he swayed unnaturally. Thin strings were tied to each part of him, suspending him in the air. Blood dripped from each gap, flowing down the other parts and pooling on the stage below.

The symbol of the inquisition was painted in blood on the lectern in the center of the stage, and behind it all, also written in blood, were the words ‘Humanity sends its regards.’ Not in gothic, but in the demon language.

There was a single second of stunned silence as everyone tried to comprehend what they were seeing. And then all hell broke loose.

Chapter Text

Kalego: “EVERYBODY OUT!” Kalego shouted, before the crowd could dissolve into chaos. He didn’t have time to try and contemplate what had happened, only to try and get people out.

Barriers appeared at the doors as the first students rushed toward them. One student, who had been pushing through the door, was caught in the barrier as it formed, and torn apart.

Students were screaming, and the air was filled with demons trying to escape the crowd and to seek shelter. Multiple blue bolts suddenly screamed through the air and hit two of them. The students screamed as their flesh melted and they fell into the crowd.

Kalego looked and saw a figure now standing on the stage, standing in the puddle of Sullivan's blood, holding a smoking gun, and smiling. Short black hair sprouted from its head. It looked young, with a long scar on the right side of its face. It was clad in strange black armor, with that damned I symbol on its chest. There were golden eagles and skulls on the prominent points of his armor. There was also a tube attached to its neck piece, which connected to a skull implanted with strange metal parts, floating above it. It was a human. It had to be. It was too strange to be demonic, and it matched Sabnock's description perfectly.

“ROBIN!” The green haired demon was already halfway to casting his bloodline ability, which let him fire an arrow that couldn’t miss once a day. Kalego readied his own spells. They could kill that bastard now and end this before any more of those under his watch were harmed. Robin fired, a brilliant green arrow bursting from his bow towards the attacker. Strangely, he didn’t make any futile effort at dodging. He just stood there, smiling.

And he continued to do so. Because the arrow simply disappeared when it got close to him. Kalego and Robin hardly had the time to comprehend what had just happened before it raised the gun again and shot Robin in the head.

Kalego lunged forward, driven by nothing by pure hatred. The human went for a sword on his belt, but before they could get too close to each other, an endless forest of vines burst from the ceiling and shot towards the human.

Those vines that got close withered and died before reaching him, but the rest curved out, forming a ball around him. On the other side of the room, other members of the faculty tore a hole in the wall, and students began rushing out.

The bastard didn't waste any time. The vines containing him withered, and he lunged out, a sword in hand. Kalego had a knife on him, but other than that, he always relied on magic. There was no way he could win without magic. It didn’t matter. All he had to do was buy time.

As the human got closer however, a sudden stabbing pain hit his mind, crushing its way into his thoughts. His eyes widened as he realized he no longer felt any magic in him at all. It was as if the very thing that made him a demon had been ripped out by a force of nature he could not explain.

He tried to move, but the pain seemed to lock him in place. He felt like his mind was going to split apart. He knew at that moment he would fail. Whatever it was would cut through him and descend upon the students. He would save no one.

Suddenly, a figure slammed into the attacker, sending him tumbling the other way. Balam roared with a fury that made him shine. He was clearly affected by whatever the thing was doing to magic. His face was a contorted expression of agony, and all the vines remaining in the room were withering.

“GO!” Balam shouted as he lunged for the human again. It didn’t let Balam score another free hit. it lunged for the teacher as Balam lunged for him. It slashed down, intending to cut a hole in Balam’s chest. Balam caught the sword with one hand and moved to deliver a devastating punch with the other, a war cry rising from his throat. Suddenly, the sword began to glow, and Balam’s hand was torn apart. The war cry turned into a simple scream as the human threw Balam off balance. The teacher barely managed to dodge the counter strike the human made, and stumbled back.

“Get out Kalego!” Balam growled. That was enough for Kalego to finally get moving

There was only one student still in the room. It was a misfit, the pale new kid who had been carried through the flying course. Rowan stared at the human as it dueled Balam, fear, and something else in his eyes. Kalego didn’t bother to scream at him to move. He simply spread his wings and grabbed Rowan, tearing through the hole in the wall with him in tow.

Kalego landed outside and placed Rowan with the other students before taking to the air again. There were more assailants outside. These ones were conventional demons however, and the element of surprise had worn off. The faculty was holding them off, although a couple bolts of magic were still slipping through the defenses. A burning rage filled him as he scanned over them. No matter how powerful they thought they were, they didn’t have whatever nullifying power the thing inside had. And Kalego felt his magic flowing freely again.

He tore into the assailants. Bolts of magic turned the yard into a field of craters and death. Some of the assailants managed to take cover behind magic barriers that one of them was quickly forming, but those outside were smeared onto the ground, becoming nothing more than red paste.

And then the pain returned.

The human was standing in the hole in the wall, holding Balams head, a mad grin plastered on his face.

“Demons of the netherworld! The emperor has heard your songs, heard your arrogance! And he has sent me upon you to correct it.” He threw the head into the crowd and fired his pistol into a student council member who had been helping to fend off the other assailants before lunging forward with his sword. The students who were closest cried out in agony as the magic draining effect took hold of them. Kalego landed next to the thing, feeling his mind bend, and pushing it aside as he struck. The human saw the blow coming and moved to cut him down, but was forced to instead cut through a piece of debris that had been flung at him by another member of the faculty. Kalego’s strike pushed him back, and the students fled away, both sides regrouping.

The human’s eyes lit up suddenly. He was looking past Kalego, to the students behind him.

“Sabnock! I was wondering if you would live this long. It is good to see you well.” He spoke as though it was greeting an old friend. Kalego glanced behind himself to see Sabnock, standing there, a large sword in his hand, a piece of silver in his mouth.

“Come now, you must know that won’t work. Can you not feel the effects of Anthea here?” He said, pointing to the skull. “Or have I made you too human?”

Sabnock didn’t respond to him, instead gritting his teeth. He was far enough away to use magic, but was clearly still feeling the effects. The sword he had summoned flickered, slowly dissipating even as its wielder pointed it at the thing.

“Come now Sabnock. Don’t look at me like that. I took away your burdens, made you as pure as I could. You could join us. I could take you under my wing, or allow you to become a sanctioned psyker in the imperial guard. All you need to do is kneel.” The human said in a mocking tone.

“I’ll kill you.” Sabnock snarled. The human simply sighed and shrugged, as if he was speaking to a simple animal that refused to listen to the most basic of commands.

“Why are you here human?”

He turned back to Kalego.

“I suppose I should introduce myself. I am Inquisitor Marius Aemilius of the Ordo Xenos. As I said before, I have been sent here by the Master of Mankind to correct your arrogance, and to show you the strength of humanity.”

“You’ll pay for this,” Kalego said, using what little magic he could to push Sabnock away. This was his battle.

“Your friend back there put up a good fight. Let's see if you can match him.”

The inquisitor lunged then, and Kalego dodged, feeling his mind buckle as the human got closer. It didn’t matter though. All that he could do was buy time.

His efforts paid off moments later as other faculty members and students hurled large pieces of debris at the inquisitor with magic, forcing him back. He was caught off guard again, perhaps having expected the others to be handled by his demonic friends. Kalego could see Marius sneering in frustration as he dodged through the raining debris Just as Kalego thought one of the pieces of debris would hit the inquisitor, a black shell of armor snapped over his mechanical skull, covering it just before a magic barrier appeared in front of him. One of the assailants appeared beside him, an ecstatic smile on his face. Kalego recognized the demon as Ami Kirio, a 2nd year at Babyls.

“Traitor,” Kalego growled as he stared the student down.

“Oh teacher, how I enjoy seeing that look on your face.” Kirio’s features were contorted in an ecstasy that nearly caused Kalego to flinch. Ami had always been a quiet student, one who kept to himself because of his magic deficiency. To see such pleasure in his eyes during such a terrible moment shook Kalego. It also meant that there was someone else providing him power. He would not be able to have made this many barriers on his own.

Kalego prepared for another strike when a ragged cheer went up from the remaining students and faculty. In the distance, there was a swarm of demons flying toward them. Initially Kalego thought they might be more assailants, but the inquisitor made a disappointed tsk sound.

“Thats our cue to leave.”

“Come on human. You could surely take them on with that skull of yours. “

“There are too many. And since you weren't as good with the barriers as I hoped, we no longer have the numbers to contest them. But if you want to stay and get slaughtered by border control, be my guest.”

The inquisitor turned, and Ami’s face was a mix of anger and annoyance, but he didn’t say anything else. The inquisitor raised his arms just as two demons flew past Kalego. They grabbed the inquisitor's outstretched hands, and lifted him into the air.

“Til we meet again, dog.”

And with that he was gone. The other assailants flew away as well, disappearing into the forest as the new demons arrived. It was a large force, and some of them broke off to chase the assailants, while the rest landed to begin tending to the wounded.

It was hours until the bodies were all accounted for. Half of the student body was dead, and most of the faculty was either dead or wounded. But the world wasn’t watching the numbers. The world was watching as the newsreels told them that the three greats were all dead, and that humans were real.

Chapter Text

Rowan:

3 days ago:

Ameri called Rowan into her office once again, to discuss something about his grades. Rowan wasn't listening. He was just thinking of his way home. Suddenly, Ameri snapped her fingers in his face.

"Are you even listening? What I'm telling you is important."

Rowan just blinked at her. He had no idea what she had been saying. All he could do was stutter out an apology and hope she didn't hate him for it. The demon sighed.

"Well, I suppose we should talk about something else. Tell me, what are your ambitions?"

Ah. That was easy enough.

"To serve," He said with an ease and certainly he hadn't had for a long time. Because that was his purpose. It was what he had been born to do. He had been brought into the world to serve the emperor. That was the only reason for his existence, and why it was of the utmost importance he made it home as soon as possible so he could get back to doing just that.

"That means nothing. It is an empty ideal. I ask again, what is your ambition?"

Rowan stuttered. Serving something grand was a perfectly good ambition as far as he was concerned. And so he repeated himself, putting more finality into his voice.

"To serve."

"I say again, that is not an ambition," Ameri said, leaning forward in her seat. "My ambition is to improve the quality of life for students at this school, and to ensure Babyls remains a name renowned by all demons."

"Then your ambition is to serve the school."

"I- what- no. That's not the point." She rubbed her temple. "Do you have anything you want to achieve? Anything that you want to do that isn't just... following orders."

Rowan didn't say anything. He didn't have anything to say. Was he... supposed to want something like that? No, of course not. Ameri sighed.

"Well, think on it for me, will you," she said. He nodded, suddenly wanting nothing more than to be somewhere else. And his wish was granted.

"It's getting late. We can talk more about this later. Go home and rest."

Rowan remained silent. He simply took the opportunity and left the room.

***

Now Ameri was dead. Rowan had seen her corpse while they were trying to corral the survivors.

His brain was a mess. It kept replaying his last conversation with Ameri, kept reminding him of what she said. He pushed it aside. It didn't bother him, it was just another person he knew dead. He should be used to that. He was a kriegsman, that was half his job.

What he couldn't push aside in his mind was the inquisitor. The black armored figure of Marius Amelius stuck in his mind like a rock in the bottom of a boot. He hadn't been able to move, hadn't been able to figure out what to do. He had spent so long searching for a way home, and now his best chance had come right to him, and he had done nothing. Not helped the inquisitor, not tried to save Balam. Just stood there like an idiot until Kalego had grabbed him. He was useless. His actions had meant nothing.

And then his mind played the image of Marius standing in the hole in the wall, grinning as he held the head of Balam. He remembered the way he had held it above him, as if to say, 'I have slain yet another of your champions' he remembered the way its eyes had looked, still open, still staring, still-

He retched. He threw a hand against the wall. To steady himself, and tried to take a breath, feeling the bitter stench of the vomit sting his nose. He stared down at the bile on the floor. He should be above that. He had served too much with the krieg to do that for anyone, and yet here he was.

He was in the makeshift shelter that demon border control had set up in the open area just past the main gate. Border control had set it up so that they could keep the students contained, and separate from the school, so that they could investigate what had happened. The camp was makeshift in every sense of the word. It was, in essence, an extremely large tent, stitched together out of whatever fabrics people could find. The wall changed color as a result. One section had a nice flag stitched into it, the other had some beasts skin. Magic had only been used sparingly, perhaps out of fear that the inquisitor would return.

Border control had tried to keep them from the outside world as much as possible, either because they wanted to maintain some aura of calm in the camp, or because they were suspicious of some of the students. Even still, some more powerful demons were able to visit their children. Mrs. Valac was not among them. Rowan knew that she was trying though, especially since Clara was in the camp. She sat, cradled in on herself in the corner, as if trying to escape the world.

It had been two days since the attack. Rumors had been spreading like wildfire, presumably brought in on the desperate wings of the parents who had managed to get into the camp. Those rumors said that all of the three greats were dead, not just Sullivan. Whatever the source, the whispers spread quickly. And they were very much whispers. Border control cracked down on anyone caught spreading them, saying that lying about such a matter would be considered a crime. Rowan idly thought that the netherworld had suddenly become a lot like home.

He turned the corner, eager to get out of the thrum of people. There was a little nook, just between the makeshift serving area and the beds. The guards couldn't see it, and their attention was elsewhere anyway. He had slipped into the nook whenever he could, using the time to try and organize his thoughts.

His mind, like the traitor it was, brought him back to the moment where he had been standing in the auditorium, not moving as the inquisitor lunged toward Kalego, and students tried to reach the freshly made hole in the wall. He kept kicking himself for doing nothing, but what was he supposed to do? Lunge at the nearest demon? Start attacking the inquisitor? That would make him a traitor. And he was no traitor. He had only been forced to spend time among the demons, not serve them. Besides, he saw no reason that attacking them would be any help to the imperium.

He took a breath, feeling his heart slow, feeling himself grow ever so slightly more calm. He took a few more breaths, and then prepared to head back out into the crowd.

"Don't move."

He whirled to see Asmodeus standing behind him. His serpent familiar was curled next to him, quietly hissing. Asmodeus himself had fire in his hands, and was pointing it right at him. The expression on his face was one of pure anguish.

"Was it you?" He growled, the fire in his hand seeming to grow as he did. Rowan knew exactly what he was being accused of, and flinched despite himself.

"I didn't know about any of this!"

"Oh really? Because from what you've told me, it seems like something you would have taken part in. Open a few doors, grease a few palms, tell a few lies, sit back and watch the slaughter happen, before hitching a nice comfy ride home with your madman."

"I hadn't even met the inquisitor! Even if I had, I would have told him that you were innocent," Rowan said with desperation. Was he really about to die? He had come so close before, even just two days ago. So why was he so scared now? The whole purpose of his life was to die fighting in the emperor's name, so why were his hands shaking so damned much?!

"Oh really? You believe that the organization whose great saying is 'Innocence proves nothing' would care about that? You must have hit your head when Kalego dragged you out. What were you doing in there anyway? Looking for a way to help your new lord," He sneered.

"No! I-" he gestured wildly at nothing, as if he could somehow spell out the nonexistent words without saying them.

"I couldn't move- I couldn't help- I couldn't-" His brain felt like it was melting away, like the words were just a motion away, but kept slipping through his fingers, dissolving in a current of fear.

There was something wet on his face.

Asmodeus's face softened slightly, before returning to its previous sneer.

"I should just tell border control what you are and let them do the interrogating."

Rowan's head snapped up, all other thoughts momentarily forgotten.

"Wait- please it wasn't me, I swear!" He couldn't get turned in. Not now. They would kill him, especially after what the inquisitor had done.

"What is the meaning of this?"

They both turned to see Kalego looking at them. He was the picture of fury, his hands curled into fists. He still wore the outfit he had been wearing during the attack, which was now covered in scratches. His hair was unkempt, and his wings were unfurled, ready to launch himself at Asmodeus.

"You have five seconds to explain why you are threatening one of my students, Asmodeus." His voice was level, but the promise of violence clung to each word.

Asmodeus scowled. Rowan waited for the axe to fall, for Asmodeus to expose him for what he truly was. But the blow never came.

"I just wanted to scare him. I thought I saw him take some of my food."

Kalego stared at him for a tense moment.

"I do not have the time for this right now. If I see you do something like this again Asmodeus, I will make that human look tame. Do you understand me, worm?"

"Yes, professor."

"Good."

With that, Kalego walked away. A moment later, Asmodeus left the nook and stepped back out in sight of the rest of the demons.

"Don't give any more reasons to suspect you," he said as he passed. And just like that, Rowan was alone again. He sank to the ground, and curled himself into a ball, hugging his knees. And then all he could do was wait for the shaking to stop.

Kirio: Kirio and the remnants of the six finger strike force walked through the forest. Marius Amelius, the human who had made their recent success possible strode with them. They had been accosted by demon border control ever since they had left Babyls. Despite that and the high casualties they had sustained at the school, spirits were high. They had achieved their mission and more. Sullivan was dead, and most of the students and faculty joined their principal in whatever afterlife awaited them.

Kirio smiled, thinking of the faces the students had worn. He took special pleasure in reliving the memory of Kalego's face, filled with anger and despair. He looked then to the human, the one who had made the teacher show such delicious emotions.

Marius kept pace well for someone in the armor he wore. The sun shined through the leaves, bouncing off the golden symbols on his armor. His hair waved gently, and his feet crunched through debris and plants with heavy thuds. The magic draining skull floated close to him, encased safely in its special armor, bobbing slightly on its tube. Ami had initially assumed him to be someone like himself, someone who reveled in despair. But there was always something off about him. Something different about the joy he showed when causing despair. It was because of this that the human always got under his skin. That had been amplified by the insult he had thrown Kirio's way before they left the school. Sure, say he hadn't done well enough with the barriers, even though he had just saved Marius's life mere moments before.

There was also the magic draining skull attached to his armor. Ami figured that was where part of the feeling came from. There was an uncomfortable feeling that seemed to emanate from the thing, even when encased in the armor that prevented it from affecting them now. Kirio couldn't shake the feeling that the skull was still alive. The feeling wasn't soothed by the fact that Marius only addressed it by the name 'Anthea,' always speaking as if it could hear him.

There was a sudden rustling in the trees, and a demon burst out, lunging for the inquisitor. None of the strike force had time to react. Ami barely comprehended what was happening, one moment they were walking, the next moment there was a frame of movement, as if in an animation, and the next Marius was holding a squirming border control agent by the neck. The rest of the strike force had fire in their hands the next moment, but it was no longer required.

"Calm yourselves. Look to the skies. Does this one have any friends?"

The strike force obeyed. They quickly reported back that there was no else around.

"Good."

The human began crushing the neck of the demon. Ami looked at the agent's face, relishing every detail. The choking noises, the way the legs kicked, the look of terror on the agent's face as he realized his death would be for naught. It was all so utterly perfect. And then his eyes flicked over to the inquisitor's face, for just a single moment.

He wasn't smiling. He saw Kirio looking and quickly plastered the smile back on his face, as if he had simply forgotten it, like a small trinket at a hotel. Ami felt all the pleasure of watching the agent's despair leave him. Because the emotion he had seen on the human face was not that of joy, or fear, or anger.

It was hate.

Marius snapped the agent's neck and tossed him aside.

"You didn't seem to take much pleasure in that."

"He bored me. No challenge. Balam and Kalego lasted longer, even under the effects of Anthea. He simply set up a poor ambush and failed to execute."

"What in hell's name would compel him to do that alone?" Ami said, leaning over the corpse, as if it would answer him.

"Probably lost a friend when we attacked. Or thought he could be a hero after the rest of border control pulled back," Marius said with a shrug. "That should be the last attack we experience. We'll reach the rendezvous point shortly."

With that he turned and continued. The strike force followed, leaving the corpse behind to rot.

Chapter Text

Kirio: The rendezvous point that Baal had set for the strike force to meet him at was a tiny clearing in the middle of the forest. The strike force arrived slightly earlier than scheduled, and fanned out to make sure they weren’t followed. It wasn’t long until the other party made its appearance.

Baal stepped from the trees, accompanied by a small group of personal guards. His smile was wide, and his posture was one of a man who saw the throne in his grasp. His features resembled his nephew, Sabnock.

“Human! I saw the news. You have done exactly what I asked of you.”

“Thank you, Lord Baal. I assume from that smile you have been successful in your task?

“I have. I used the mind poison to make lady Levi attack Lord Belial. By the time Belial managed to restrain Levi, they were both too tired to resist us. And your masterful strike on Sullivan, we have eliminated all of the great demons who might oppose my path to the throne.” Baal snapped his fingers, and his entourage brought him two wine glasses and a bottle of the finest alcohol money could buy. “I believe this calls for a toast.”

“Did you take this from Levi’s quarters,” Marius asked as one of the guards handed him a glass and filled it with the fine drink.

“Indeed. Thought it would be better than letting such fine craftsmanship go to waste.”

The guard poured Baal's drink, and the demon lord opened his mouth to speak again, but it was not his voice that rang through the clearing.

“Soldiers rejoice! You are a part of the greatest military operation in the history of your world. Your bravery has torn down the old world order, and paved the way for a grand new tomorrow. There is still much to be done, there is still blood to spill, but the future is in your grasp!” Marius raised his glass. “To Operation Lightning!” Kirio saw Baal’s confidence flicker in a way that was unnoticeable to anyone who wasn’t as skilled at reading emotions as him. But he raised his glass and clinked it against the human’s. The strike force cheered, raising their fists in the absence of drinks.

“You have done well inquisitor. When I am on the throne, you will be allowed to return to the human world without question,” Baal said.

“Thank you lord.” Marius said. “I believe we should return to your base. There is much that remains to be discussed.”

***

Kirio: The Southern Demon army's base was alive with preparations for the coming storm. The three greats had been the largest pillars of the demon government in the absence of a king. With them dead, it was inevitable that the thirteen crowns would begin fighting for their positions, or perhaps even the throne itself.

Of all the crowns, Baal seemed best positioned to seize power. He was the commander of the southern demon army, and was popular with the masses. He had been at the emergency meeting of the thirteen crowns just days earlier, and from what Kirio could tell, he had managed to get the other crowns to start fighting among themselves. It was all going according to plan. He had his excuse to mobilize his army.

Kirio was walking by Baal’s office in the base, when suddenly, the door opened, and Marius walked out.

“Ah, Kirio. Come with me. I would like assistance with some of your demon terms.”

That was odd. Baal had used translation magic on the human. He should have no issue understanding any of the demon language. Either way, Kirio followed. The inquisitor had been granted lavish quarters by Baal for his deeds. Fine curtains draped over a window that looked out into the forest, apparently a special request by Marius. A bed with silk sheets was in one corner. In the opposite corner was a desk with the carved image of a great battle on the backboard and several drawers on the sides. A table sat in the middle of the room. It had been covered in maps and reports. For an hour, Marius interrogated Kirio on every detail of the region they were in, asking which cities were most likely to declare themselves in support for Baal when fighting broke out, where the most food was grown, and what areas might be struck first by their enemies. Far more than just a few simple terms.

Kirio got the distinct feeling he was only there because the inquisitor wanted someone from the netherworld to ensure the plans were solid. Had the human been more familiar with the landscape, he doubted he would even have been asked to help at all.

“Well then, I believe that is enough for now.” Marius stood and stretched. “I have a prisoner that needs to talk anyway. I'm sorry to say you can’t come along. The man seems like he’ll show more than a bit of despair when he finally cracks.” The inquisitor went to his desk, opening a drawer.

Ami didn’t know why he said what he said next. They simply left him, flowing into the air.

“You don’t enjoy making people despair, do you?”

Marius stopped. He turned back to Kirio. The demon suddenly felt his chest tighten with fear, but he kept going.

“You slip up on occasion. If you were like me, you would be smiling at the thought of torturing a prisoner. Back in the forest, I saw you. I didn’t see any joy on your face.” Kirio was shaking now. Marius’s eyes were boring to him, utterly neutral.

“You can’t fool me human.” He finished, a nervous smile breaking out on his face.

There was a pause, an awful silence. And then…

“Intresting.” A gentle smile broke out on the inquisitor's face, and Kirio could tell it was real. Marius walked over to him.

“I like you, Ami. You know how to read someone who has spent his life mastering the art of avoiding just that. If you weren't so obsessed with despair, you would make a good inquisitor.”
Marius loomed over him, observing the way one would observe a new pet.

“Come with me, demon.” He said, making to leave the room.

“I have something to show you.”

***

It had not rained recently, and the forest was dry. The crunch of leaves was the only sound that passed between the two of them. The sun was just starting to set, and the sky turned beautiful shades of pink as it did. The moons could just barely be seen on the other side of the sky.

They were making their way up a large hill. It was a decent distance away from the base, and Kirio could not shake the feeling the inquisitor had brought him here simply to murder him and be done with it. Still, he followed. Because there was a part of him that believed if he tried to turn back now, he would damn himself more than if he followed.

Eventually they crested the hill, and came to a view that could only be described as absolutely stunning. It looked as if each cloud in the sky had been painted on by a true master of the brush. The sun outlined the trees, and he could see for miles.

“This world is truly wonderful, Kirio. I knew the moment I arrived here that it was not the imperium.” Marius took a long breath. When Kirio didn’t speak, he continued.

“One of the first things I started doing was attempting to figure out the reason for my arrival here. I was convinced that the emperor had something to do with it at first, but now I see that this was not his doing.”

“Then what was,” Kirio said. He had leaned in slightly at the mention of the emperor Marius did not speak of him much, but when he did it was with reverence.

“Look closely at the trees. What do you see?”

Kirio looked and saw… Nothing. There were leaves on the trees. There were a few birds in the branches. Wonderful to behold, but nothing out of the ordinary. Except…

“That one. Why does it look like it's covered in dew,” He said, pointing at a tree not too far from them. Actually, now that he had seen it in that one, he could see it in many of the others as well.

“Let me show you,” Marius said, walking in the strange trees direction. Kirio followed, and when they got there, Marius reached to his shoulder, and took off his precious skull, which was still encased in its armor. He placed the thing gently down nearby.

“Covered or not, Anthea may still interfere with this. Can’t afford that with such a delicate operation.” He reached into the tree, and took between his fingers a small yellow crystal. He held it with a care that Kirio did not think he possessed. He gently took another one in his other hand.

“I discovered these by chance when I passed through here one day. I thought nothing of them initially. In fact, I thought they were just strange berries. But then I witnessed one of them fall into another and…”

He pressed the two orbs together, and they grabbed onto each other, merging together, creating one orb that was twice the size of the previous ones.

“That's wonderful human, but how does it relate to your appearance in our world?”

“Like this.” He threw the new orb to the ground, and there was a sudden burst of light that blinded Kirio for a few seconds. When he had blinked the spots out of his eyes, there was a small gun lying on the forest floor where the orb had landed.

“Wha-”

“Incredible isn’t it? I’ve found that the more of them you combine, the larger the object summoned. A few might bring a small trinket or weapon, if you're lucky,” he gestured at the gun. “5 or more might give you something larger, or more fancy. From there, it takes a lot more to reach the next level.”

“And that is?” Kirio asked, although he already knew the answer.

“Life. Once it reaches a certain intensity, a living creature will be brought here.”

Kirio found himself scoffing.

“So what? You summon a couple more humans using this little method of yours. Just a drop in the bucket of whatever little scheme you have. I doubt they would be as powerful as you. You ‘inquisitors’ seem like a rare breed.”

“You're right. It is a stroke of luck that I was summoned here. If it happened anywhere else, it was probably some hapless wretch who starved in the forest.” He paused. “I think that is what this magic was originally intended to do as well.” When Kirio tilted his head, he continued.

“I took the liberty of searching Sullivan's office when I killed him. One of the documents I found indicated he had been trying to summon a human, but for whatever reason the spell failed. The magic required for such a spell was great, and didn’t dissipate when the spell failed, turning into dust and scattering itself through the forest. Most faded away soon after, too small for anyone to even notice. However occasionally, it clumped together, and formed those crystals. As for why Sullivan wanted to summon a human I cannot say, but that doesn’t matter now.”He waved a hand dismissively as he finished explaining, as if the great demon's legacy would also blow away in the wind.

“Of course, I haven't shown you everything just yet. Follow me.” Marius said, grabbing both the gun and Anthea, not reattaching the skull to his armor for some reason.

Kirio followed the human deeper into the forest. A part of him still wanted to flee, to escape this man, this creature. But that part was silenced. Because most of him saw a being who had the potential to cause despair, and that was enough for Kirio. They rounded a corner in the trees and-

Kirio froze.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

In front of him sat a massive yellow orb. It was several times larger than him. Orb wasn’t quite the right word for it. It had tendrils that wrapped around the nearby trees, and it pulsed in a way that was utterly wrong.

“What the hell?” He muttered, eyes fixed on the center of the thing.

“It is the culmination of my work. Look closely at the surface. What do you see?”

Kirio squinted, and suddenly he saw a reflection. But it was not his own. It was that of an armored figure, massive in stature. The armor was blue, with different regalia than that of the inquisitor. A massive gun was in its hands. Kirio looked at a different section of the thing, and saw another giant, this one in a different pose. And then another, and another.

“What are they?”

“Angels.” Marius said, placing Anthea on a nearby tree before running his hand over the thing in gentle reverence.

Kirio hardly had time to process the unfamiliar word before Marius spoke again.

“Now there is only one question remaining… Where do your loyalties lie, Kirio?”

The inquisitor was suddenly staring at him again. It took all Kirio's effort not to flinch at the stare. Marius hadn't moved, only his neck was craned ever so slightly to look at him. There was nothing behind his eyes. No discernable emotion, no feelings. Just a blank stare into him.

“With whoever can show me the most despair,” Kirio answered honestly, forcing his voice to be steady. Marius turned to him, and a smile spread across his face, one that Kirio knew was real.

“Then help me, and I will show you the despair of he who would be king.”

Chapter Text

Rowan: The camp remained as gloomy as it had before. It had now been a week since the attack. Rumors were finally spreading through the camp that they would be allowed to go home and see their families again. Rowan was especially happy for Clara. She would finally be able to go home and see her mother again. She had finally started to recover a bit after that, moving around, talking with some of the other students. He stayed away from her himself. He didn't want her to think he was responsible somehow, like Asmodeus did. She had been scared enough already.

He was walking through the camp, on his way to grab what he hoped would be the last meal the border patrol officers would have to give them, when he spotted Sabnock. The demon was sitting on the ground, looking somewhat dejected, like everyone else. He seemed to be trying to curl into himself, pulling his legs close. Something compelled Rowan to walk over to him. He had seen a Cadian veteran comfort a new recruit after their first battle once, maybe it would be good to do that here?

Sabnock looked up at him, tired eyes piercing into him.

"What do you want?"

"Just thought I'd check in..." he suddenly remembered exactly what their last interaction had been.

"And apologize, for... you know." He couldn't make himself say it, and so he was left with hoping Sabnock understood. The demon didn't respond for a moment.

"Well, I guess now you know what attacked me during the flying test. And now we all have been attacked by it, so you got the info you were looking for. Why did you want to know about it anyway?"

Rowan stuttered, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse. He wanted to tell him something close to the truth, but he couldn't exactly say that he was human and thought the inquisitor would be his ticket home.

"I was obsessed with crime stories as a kid. I guess what happened to you seemed like the ultimate crime story. I don't know why I thought I should say what I said. I just... wanted to know. I'm sorry." He knew that was nowhere near the truth, but the apology was real.

Sabnock studied him for a moment, before waving his hand.

"Apology accepted then."

It took all of Rowan's energy not to ask Sabnock to repeat himself. He hadn't truly expected him to accept that story.

"You seem like a good demon. A strange one, a rude one, but a good one. Don't let yourself get captured by that human. He'll do more than just cut off your wings and tail." Sabnock pulled back his collar to reveal the symbol of the inquisition, branded into his neck. It was an ugly mark, and it looked wrong. Sabnock must have been moving when it was put on him.

"I- Thank you. I won't allow myself to fall into his hands." Rowan said.

"Good. I'm doing fine now. As much as I appreciate the apology, I would appreciate being left alone now." Sabnock said, pulling his collar back over the scar.

"Ok. Thanks again."

He managed to turn his body and walk away in what he hoped was a somewhat reasonable fashion. He went straight to the ration desk and got 3 meals, before returning to where he had been sitting since Asmodeus had confronted him.

That place was on the ground, in the far corner from the ration desk. He had found Jazz and Lied not long after the attack, and had taken to sitting with them instead of risking running into Asmodeus or Clara.

Lied and Jazz had taken the same dejected forms as every other demon in the shelter. Jazz had taken to biting his fingernails in the absence of anything to do with his hands. Lied just seemed numb, although he could hear him tossing and turning in his sleep, and he pulled at his own hair on occasion. Rowan had been getting their food along with his when he could. Now he sat back down next to them, and handed each of them their rations.

The rations came in a small bag, and was probably whatever border control either had on them when they arrived or could get from whatever base they had. They consisted of something that resembled bread, some form of vegetable, and a piece of dried meat. All and all, it was a significant step down from what the Babyl's school cafeteria had served.

It was still better than corpse starch though.

Jazz grumbled something as he tore into his rations, each bite taken as if somehow the food had wronged him.

"What did you say," Rowan asked. He was hoping that maybe he could provide some comfort to Jazz and Lied. At least more than he had to Sabnock. After all, he had been through things like this before. He should be able to do at least that.

Jazz paused, taking a moment to realize that Rowan had heard him, before responding.

"I was imagining that I was devouring that damned human." Rowan didn't say anything else. Jazz's tone told him all he needed to know about how that would go. And he suddenly didn't feel like saying anything else anyway. Lied on the other hand...

"Yeah. We'll get that inquisitor, and then we'll show him real fear."

Jazz nodded as he took another bite of his rations. Rowan suddenly felt unwelcome. Of course they wouldn't need his help. They were demons. They were different. What had deluded him into thinking he could help?

They sat in silence for a few minutes, each of them going through their food. Lied looked like he could barely choke it down, while Jazz seemed too preoccupied with his thoughts of revenge to care much for the taste. Rowan still thought the food was better than Imperial rations, so it barely even registered in his mind.

Rowan spared a glance at Lied. Despite his earlier agreement with Jazz, he seemed to lack the same enthusiasm. His hands shook slightly as he ate, and he seemed like he could barely swallow what was in his mouth. His breath was shaky, and short, and he ran a hand through his hair whenever one was available. For a moment, Rowan saw a short Cadian, sitting in a trench, blood on their flak armor, trying to unwrap a ration pack , and being unable to do so because their hands were shaking so much. And, for some reason, Rowan decided to delude himself one more time. Not like he had anything else to do.

"Is everything alright, Lied?" He immediately cursed himself for saying the words. Of course things weren't alright. Half the students were dead for Emperor's sake. Lied looked up at him, and he saw the frustration in his eyes.

"Of course not idiot. Why would it be," He said bitterly, "Everything was finally looking up, and now this happens." He flicked a crumb of meat into the ground. "I thought it would all be fine, that everything was good. All I had to do was play my games and put in enough effort to pass my classes. And now all of that is gone. And- and I- oh god, I don't even know if my sister is alive. And my parents- and- and-" Lied broke down into sobs. A frustrated scream tearing from his throat, hands pulling at his hair. Rowan didn't know what to do at first. Slowly, he wrapped an arm around Lied. the demon didn't move.

"You'll get through this."

Lied kept sobbing, and Rowan awkwardly patted him on the shoulder. He wasn't sure if he was helping or not, but Lied wasn't batting him away, so he stayed where he was. Slowly, lied stopped sobbing, and soon he was just sitting there with his head in his hands, taking deep breaths.

"How are you so calm right now?" Lied asked, looking up at him, his eyes red and puffy, tears streaking his face. Rowan stuttered, not expecting the question.

"It's a long story," Rowan said, taking his arm from the demon's shoulder. Lied didn't press the subject any further, much to his relief.

Not long after a demon with a loud speaker stepped onto a makeshift podium, a neat black border control uniform covered in medals made him stand out from the other guards. He looked like Kalego, with pitch black hair and eyes that seemed to judge every inch of someone. The demon called for their attention, his voice loud and commanding. Soon the shelter was quiet, except for the rustle of the wind outside. And then he spoke.

"In a few hours, you will be allowed to return to your homes." He let the crowd murmur for a few moments. "However, the attack on your school was only one of the blows struck by a terrorist organization known as the six fingers. We have linked them to attacks across the netherworld, and are actively hunting them. However, we are stretched thin trying to repair the damage they have caused. For that reason, we have chosen to allow everyone here the chance to join a special unit of border control that will be dedicated to tracking down the six fingers, and their human dog." He put special emphasis on the last part, a bitter scowl on his face, as if the very mention of the inquisitor insulted his senses.

More murmurs went through the crowd. Jazz immediately leaned forward, and Lied did as well.

"Those of you who wish to join and seek revenge, return here tomorrow. You will be inducted into border control, and given the tools and training to seek your revenge. That is all. The guards will release you shortly. I expect to see many of you here tomorrow."

With that the demon turned and left the podium. He left the shelter, and Rowan saw Kalego march out after him.

Jazz looked absolutely thrilled. He pumped his fist once, looking more alive than he ever had before. Lied seemed to perk up at the prospect of revenge as well, although he had reacted the most to hearing that they were about to be allowed to leave. As for Rowan...

He knew he was going to join the moment the demon had finished speaking. He had been born to fight, and besides, this would get him close to the inquisitor, close to going home. He convinced himself he didn't want revenge, even as he saw Balam's head flying through the air, and Ameri's corpse lying broken on a pile of rubble, her flesh still bubbling from a plasma shot. He clenched his hands into fists.

He would join the demon army. It wouldn't make him a heretic. It was simply the best way to achieve his goals. Nothing more.

Chapter Text

Kirio: He stepped out of a meeting room, closing the door gently behind him. Baal and his generals had been discussing what to do in the upcoming war, and Kirio had overheard enough to know he had to report it to Marius.

He found the inquisitor in his office, studying a map of the netherworld, drawing up battleplans for an army he did not lead.

“Kirio, I trust you have something important to tell me if you barged in like that.” He said, hardly looking up from his map. Said map was covered in little wooden pieces, colored either red or blue, and there were multiple spots on the map with large x’s in them. Marius’s eyes were bloodshot and had shadows under them. Kirio could see that he had not slept, that he had spent the night hovered over that map, planning some incomprehensible master stroke. For a moment, he doubted whether he was doing the best thing for himself. But he spoke anyway.

“Baal is planning a party for tonight. His top generals and officers will be there. It seems he wants to show off his power before the army sets out.” Kirio said. Marius looked up, a haunting little smile playing on his face. Despite how odd it was to Kirio that the inquisitor barely showed any true emotion, either pretending to feel something he didn’t, or simply presenting no visible feelings, when he did let his mask slip, it was even more disturbing. Because he knew that it meant the man felt he had won, that there was no need to hide the truth from those around him. Because, every time he saw that mask slip, he saw the way Marius looked at him, as if he were a simple puppet, like everyone was a puppet. Toy’s he could break at any moment should they fail to dance to his tune.

“We must act quickly then. Come with me. It is time we make our move.”

***

An hour later, as the sun had begun to set, Kirio and Marius stood once again in front of the large magical crystal Marius had made. It still pulsed, still danced with images of armored creatures. Marius breathed deeply, before taking Anthea off his armor and handing the covered skull to Kirio.

“Be ready to give Anthea to me as soon as possible. We don’t know how the angels will react to their sudden transportation here, and we can’t afford to have her anywhere near the orb during this stage, protective covering or not. When I have them under control, cast a translation spell for them. Do you understand?” He said, placing a hand on Kirio’s shoulder.

Kirio nodded, and Marius smiled again.

“Good. Now then…”

The inquisitor drew his power sword and stepped up to the pulsing orb, running his hand over it one more time, before drawing the sword back, and plunging it into the thing.

There was an immediate flash of light. Kirio threw his free arm over his eyes and turned away, but he was still blinded. By the time he blinked away the spots in his eyes and looked to where the orb had been, there were 10 of the armored creatures, standing in front of Marius. They had deep blue armor, with white outlines on shoulder pads, helmets and knees. On each warrior's right shoulder pad were various symbols that Kirio could only assume were markers of rank. On the left shoulder pad of each creature was the symbol of a dragon spitting fire.

Marius cleared his throat and began to speak in the human language. The babble was incomprehensible to Kirio. The creatures for their part, raised their weapons, a strange crackling sound coming from them. They seemed to calm slightly when they heard Marius speaking their language. But suddenly, one of them raised his weapon at Kirio.
This creature wore different armor, with tubes around the helmet and a flowing cape. Instead of a large gun, he held a staff, and his face was visible. His eyes crackled with blue lightning as he hissed something at Kirio. He could sense a large amount of magical power from the creature, and it was all pointed at him. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to block it with a barrier, that it would smash through whatever protection he threw up and–

“Kirio!” Marius barked. Kirio snapped back to himself and threw the skull back to the inquisitor. In one smooth motion, Marius reattached the skull to his armor, and not a heartbeat later, the protective cover slid away.

Kirio collapsed to the ground in pain. His brain throbbed as he felt all his magic leave him. He clutched his head, wanting to scream but being unable to do so. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the creature with the staff fall to his knees. The rest of the creatures raised their weapons at Marius, but in a flash of movement he had his sword at the staff creature's throat.

Kirio could faintly hear Marius’s voice over the din of his own mind fading. He felt blood trickle down from his nose. He realized that this would be his end. Dying for some human’s ambitions. As he realized this, he heard something else. Something beyond Marius’s voice. His eyes blurred as he realized it was coming from the skull. He suddenly recognized it. The skull was… screaming. It was the sound of agony and rage. It was the sound of something trapped… no, someone.

The skull was alive.

Suddenly, magic rushed back into him, he gasped as he suddenly was able to think again. A strangled scream left his throat, followed by a stream of bile. He managed to get to his knees as the pain slowly faded. Marius was still speaking to the creatures. They had lowered their weapons at that point and the staff creature was already back at his feet.

Marius gestured at Kirio, saying something he couldn’t understand. The next few minutes were a haze as Kirio slowly managed to recover from the skull's effects. Eventually, Marius stepped over to him

“Kirio, would you be so kind and cast that translation spell for us now?” Marius said in demonic. He looked at him like he hadn’t just nearly killed Kirio. And, suddenly, Kirio felt a gnawing fear bite into him. Because he had just given this human an army to command.

He cast the spell, a simple one he had picked up from Baal. The creatures still looked at him with suspicion, clearly ready to blow him away should he make one wrong move, but allowed him to complete the spell. There was a moment of silence, before finally, someone spoke.

“I trust everyone understands what must be done?” Marius said in demonic, confirming that the translation spell had worked in the same breath.

“What… was that?” Kirio breathed, his eyes locked on the shell that contained Anthea.

“Ah… Do not worry. I will explain briefly.”

“Astartes, prepare yourselves for the task. I must finish my own preparations. I will contact you when the time comes for us to strike. For the Emperor!

“FOR THE EMPEROR!” The ‘astartes’ chorused back. With that, Marius took Kirio by the shoulder and began to lead him back toward the southern demon army’s base.

Kirio realized he was shaking. He tried to dismiss it as just his body not fully recovering from having all its magic drained, but whenever he looked at Marius, looked at the encased skull floating above him, the shaking got worse.

“What… is that?” Kirio said, extending a finger at the skull’s shell.

“Huh?” Marius seemed momentarily confused, as if the question wasn’t blatantly obvious. “Oh, I suppose I haven’t explained what Anthea is yet.” He cleared his throat. “Anthea was a rebellious human that I was sent to deal with a few years back. She was a blank, a true pariah. Normally people turn on those.” At Kirio’s confused stare, he elaborated. “For us humans, blanks simply exert a…” He paused, searching for the right words. “ A feeling of wrongness, not the crushing pain it does for those who can use magic. True pariahs are simply the most powerful version of that. She should have either been killed, or survived long enough to be claimed by the sisters of silence. But instead, she lived. She fled to the forests of her world, and slowly, other mutants began to join her. Lady of the forest, they called her. Soon her forces began to gain ground, and when she stopped a minor daemonic incursion with her powers, the people who would have rejected her before bowed to her… ” He paused for a moment, placing his hand on Anthea’s shell, gently bringing it down to himself.

“She should have been declared a saint. Should have been the next imperial hero. But the planet had been primed for rebellion for a long time, and the mutant retinue she had built up had no interest in fighting for the imperium that had rejected them, and so they rose up against the emperor, and declared independence. The remaining loyalists holed up in a mountain fortress and called for aid. I was sent to relieve them.” Marius sighed, the memory clearly a bitter one.

“The fight for that world was harsh. We had to burn Anthea’s forces out of every inch of the forest. The imperial guard general leading our forces was a fool. He let her destroy countless battalions. I had to take full control of the army after he threw away a tank battalion trying to smoke out guerillas. I admit that it was pure luck that allowed me to turn the tide there. A few things going slightly different, and we would have been forced to retreat from the world. But that didn’t happen.” Marius seemed to be speaking directly into the protective shell that held Anthea.

“I ended up crossing swords with Anthea as my forces stormed her last stronghold. She ambushed me and my retinue with her mutant guard. My forces were on standby though, and surrounded them. She was a good duelist. I was better. Fortunately, I managed to keep her alive. And that is where we get to this…”

“You turned her into that?” Kirio said, the full horror of the situation dawning on him. It was confusing. This should be a situation that produced the despair he craved to see. And yet, when he thought back to what he had heard under the effects of the skull, he saw no despair. Only agony, sorrow, and wrath. Perhaps that was simply the nature of the person who Marius had carved away, but still.

“We call things like her servo skulls. My father worked in a facility that made them, and he told me the process when he wanted me to go to bed early.” Marius chuckled slightly at the memory. When I became an inquisitor I looked into it more, and started making them myself. Anthea is my magnum opus. Durable steel, the finest electric parts, and a shell that mimics the inside of a blackship.”

Kirio had a thousand questions. Humans using magic? Turning people into unthinking machines? It was all so strange. But there was one question he still had to ask.

“Is she.. Still alive?”

“Yes. I only damaged her mind enough to ensure compliance during the operation. Other than that, she is still alive. Her soul still inhabits the skull, her mind still forms thoughts, and what little nerves she has left still feel. Her rebellion was a tragedy, but now she will have a lifetime of glorious service in the emperor's name, as she should have had before.” He let go of the shell and let it float back up above his shoulder.

“And humanity does this to all its traitors?” Kirio asked, his curiosity finally getting a foothold. Marius sighed.

“Yes. But of course, demand is high, so it also happens to the criminals and the heretics. All those who would ever defy our tenets. Servitors do much of the labor in the imperium. The work it does changes based on how much flesh is kept, and how much machine is added. Personally, I try to keep any traitors I hunt alive for servitorization. It's the only suitable punishment. You would like any other servitor. Most would probably produce plenty of despair for you. Anthea is just a rare exception.”

Kirio didn’t know what to feel. A creature that could produce only despair should be his dream, but it wouldn’t be him causing the despair. The one who caused it was walking right beside him, speaking as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Now then, I need one more thing from you. At Baals party, ensure that he and his generals stay in the building, preferably all in one room.” Marius pulled something from a pocket and handed it to him. It was a small, round thing, easily mistakeable for a pebble at a glance.

“Put that in your pocket and glue yourself to Baal. It will track your location so my forces can get to Baal as quickly as possible. It shouldn’t matter too much, but speed is key. Do you understand?” Marius spoke with a strange gentleness, as if Kirio was a child that could easily misunderstand him.

“Yes,” Kirio said, keeping his voice steady, his eyes on Marius. The inquisitor smiled.

“It is good to see you have picked a side,” Marius said as they broke through the trees and approached the base. It took Kirio a moment to fully understand the implications of those words. Marius patted him on the back as they entered the base, and then he headed back to his office, leaving him alone.

***

The party was in full swing. Baal had not been lying when he spoke about it before. He had said it would be a grand celebration of the return to a proper demon society, and a celebration it was. All of the officers and their aids were living it up in a massive ballroom, with fine whiskey being served at every corner. In the center of the ballroom, there was a fighting pit that had held a rotating roster of some of the stronger officers. Baal had taken the pleasure of beating a few of them up personally. The ball room was adorned with gold decorations, and banners bearing the symbol of the Baal’s family were draped between each of the windows.

For all the reverie, Baal was not in the ballroom, he and his closest advisors had retired to a separate, smaller room to make their final preparations for the next day. It was no less fanciful than the ballroom, just smaller, with a table covered in maps and reports of all sorts in the center, instead of a fighting pit.

Baal's closest advisors were the six fingers, for which the terrorist organization was named. It had been a branch of the southern demon army that Baal had taken great pains to keep a secret. It had originally just been the six original fingers, but had been expanded after Marius arrived in order to accommodate the new, much grander schemes that Baal had made as a result of the humans power.

The Baal spoke at length to the fingers about their grand plans. But Kirio wasn’t listening. Because he knew what was about to happen. Marius had never stated it, but it was clear that Baal and everyone around him would be dead by the end of the night.

Kirio thumbed the tracker in his pocket. He tried to move his thoughts back onto the path of thinking about the inevitable despair he would see in the would-be king's face. But he couldn’t. All he could think about was the fact that he was about to betray the man who had taken him in as a child, who had told him he was normal, and who had steered the course of his life,

His hand went up to the choker on his neck. Baal had supplied it with magical power, given him the chance to make his own despair, to serve a society that would let him see as much despair as he wished. And he thought how easy it would be for him to tell Baal of Marius’s betrayal, of the monsters that would come for him. Perhaps Baal would be mad that Kirio had worked with the inquisitor, but that didn’t matter too much. Even if it did, all Kirio would have to do would be to give Baal a reason to slip away from the party. It would be so simple. He almost spoke, his mouth opening ever so slightly, the beginnings of a breath entering his lungs.

He clamped his mouth shut.

He hated himself for it, but he couldn’t speak. Because, whenever he closed his eyes for more than a second, he saw Marius, leering over him. He felt the echoes of what Anthea had done to him. And he remembered what the human had said.

“It is good to see you have picked a side.”

He was on the side of the human. And Marius had made it very clear what he did to traitors. And so he stood there, and did nothing.

The first sign that something was wrong was a loud thud sound. Baal stopped talking and turned his attention to the door.

“My soldiers sound like they are ready for war.” Baal chuckled. He would probably use that as a springboard to keep talking about how the six fingers should show as much ferocity in the coming battles, or something like that, Kirio thought. Baal was charismatic, and every interruption was a chance at a new angle, a new message to spread to the people. This time however, the lord would never get the chance.

There was suddenly a series of muffled bangs. Kirio knew it had to be the inquisitor and his monsters firing into the crowd. He tried to get pleasure from imagining the despair on the dying officers' faces as they realized they had been betrayed, eyes widening, their lips stretching as they tried to flee. It only produced a hollow feeling in his chest.

“Fingers with me! We must put a stop to whatever this is,” Baal growled, drawing a regal blade. He probably suspected it was Marius, but it was too late now.

Before Baal and the fingers could move, the door burst open, and an officer burst in. His face was just as Kirio had imagined it.

“My lord we’ve been betrayed! The human is here, he is leading monsters! They’re killing everyone! Please, you must flee,” The man spoke so quickly it was hard to parse each word from what came after. But that didn’t matter. He expected Baal to try and burst through the door and take command of the situation. The demon lord was already spreading his wings, poised to shove aside the officer and burst out into the larger room, no doubt to rain spells upon Marius from above. But once again, he would never get the chance.

Was struck hard by something from behind. He started to collapse, before whatever struck him detonated and turned his torso into a red paste. Whatever was left of him fell to the floor in pieces. Before anyone could process it, one of the human monsters was standing in the door. Baal fired a bolt of lightning at the monster, putting considerable power into it. The bolt simply dissipated before reaching the thing.

Everyone knew what that meant.

Kirio stumbled to the opposite side of the room as Marius entered behind his monster. A genuine smile covered his face, his black armor stained with gore, blood sinking into the recesses of the golden regalia. His power sword was in his hand, glowing with strange energy, and Anthea was out of her shell, floating above him

“Baal! It is good to see you,” Marius said in a singsong voice, as if he was a parent speaking to a child he hadn’t seen in a long time. He stepped forward as another of his monsters entered. Kirio could hear the sound of the creatures finishing off whoever was left in the ballroom as Marius stepped closer. Kirio pinned himself to the far wall, trying to maintain some composure as he felt Anthea start to affect him. Baal and the fingers were clearly feeling it as well. They backed up, baring their fangs as Marius approached, looking for anything they could use as a weapon, or perhaps looking for an escape.

Suddenly one of the fingers spread his wings and ran for the large window on the far side of the room. Kirio thought he was named Wett.

“I’ll call our troops!” He shouted. It wouldn’t help. Wett was probably just trying to save his own skin, seeing the situation as untenable. He crashed through the window, the glass reflecting the setting sun's light into a thousand beams for a single moment. He didn’t get far before he was struck by what looked to be lightning. It couldn’t have been lightning though. It was coming from the ground, and refused to stop until Wett had been completely vaporized. There was nothing Baal could do except stare as the creature that had nearly killed Kirio before rose up in front of the window, this time with a proper helmet on. It had no wings, simply casting lighting beneath its feet, letting the momentum of that hold it in the air. It seemed to jitter slightly because of it. Behind Marius, more of the monsters entered.

“Now that you see there is no way to escape, who here is willing to defect to a better cause?” Marius asked, gesturing at each of them with his sword. The remaining five fingers didn’t move, keeping their fangs bared, showing more loyalty than expected. Perhaps Wett really would have tried to rally the army.

“No one? Well I suppose that makes things simple.” Marius snapped his fingers, and the monsters opened fire. In less than a second, the remaining five fingers were ripped apart, leaving only Baal standing alone, bits of blood having spattered onto his clothes. Confusion sprouted on the demon lord's face, but he hid it before speaking again.

“This betrayal will not go unpunished. You may have won today, but this will be your last victory. Soon, demonic wings will darken the skies of your world. Your people will know fear. We will drag your ‘God-Emperor’ from his throne and devour him. And you will die, knowing you brought that fate upon him. That will be the fate of all humans. To be devoured by demons.” His voice was strained by Anthea’s effects, but it was steady, a tiny beacon of defiance. He lunged suddenly, drawing a small dagger from his belt, refusing to give Marius the satisfaction of seeing him break.

Marius let out a long suffering sigh at the little speech. In a flash of movement, he cut off Baal's arm. The lord screamed and collapsed as the pain of Anthea being near him combined with losing his arm sent him sprawling to the floor. Marius closed Anthea in her shell and kneeled down next to Baal, a look of pure disgust on his face.

“You want to eat a human?” He grabbed a strange can off his belt, opening it with a crunch and putting it in front of Baal’s face. “Go on then. Eat.”

Baal tried to growl at Marius. “What are you-” He gasped in pain as the inquisitor dropped his sword and squeezed the stump where his arm had been with his free hand.

“Tsk. You were not given permission to question me. But I suppose I should spare you an answer. You see, on my home world, Centuri Alpha, the population is too large to feed with just grain shipments. As with many other worlds, nothing can be allowed to go to waste. A single corpse can be turned into enough starch to feed a family for a week. In this way, billions upon billions of humans can be fed enough to survive. Now, I remember telling you to eat.”

Marius shoved a handful of starch into Baal's mouth, prying the lord's mouth open with his armored hands. He removed his hand and shoved Baal’s mouth closed, forcing him to swallow.

“See? That wasn’t so hard now was it? Now you’ve consumed your first human. Feel any different?”

“... Just kill me already.” Baal stared up with dead eyes at the inquisitor, delicious despair creeping into his face.

“Kill you? Oh no no no. I have far greater plans for you. You see, your lapdog saw you for the fool you are. He chose to help me bring about a better world, and I said I would show him your despair.” He forced Baal to look over at Kirio. The despair bloomed ever brighter on his face. Kirio drank it in, letting it wash away the nagging shame of betraying the man who had helped him as a child.

“You four-eyed trai-” Marius covered his mouth with an armored hand, letting the lord cut his teeth on the black armor.

“However, I’ve been thinking. Kirio has helped me more than I expected. His loyalty has proven more firm than some of humanity's warriors. He has earned a place at my side… as well as a gift.”

Marius examined Baal, all over, eyes roaming over each inch of his flesh. Debating what to keep. Baal struggled, his legs thrashing as he tried to throw the inquisitor away as Marius muttered things to himself.

“I have the tools… no legs, wouldn’t be stable… Converters for psychic power…” He stopped, seemingly satisfied with the plan he had made.

“Sleep now Baal. When you wake, I will make you a tool of the Emperor.” With that, Marius drove his fist into Baal’s face, knocking him out cold. He looked down with satisfaction, and a hint of eagerness, before rising.

“Astartes. Bring the demon to the basement of this place. There should be a torture chamber there. Then ensure that the rest of the officers are dead.” Marius commanded. The Astartes obeyed, one of them picking up Baal’s limp body with one hand. He could sense a hint of what could only be described as annoyance from the monsters at being ordered around. Nevertheless, they obeyed. The magic monster, as Kirio was now choosing to think of it, continued floating in the air.

“Brother Dalquiel, see to it that no one comes near this place before morning. There is work to be done.” Apparently the monsters had names. How wonderful.

Dalquiel didn’t move for a long moment, staring at Marius.

“I have heard of you, inquisitor. Keep your radical tendencies in check.” The monster's voice was filtered through its helmet. It sounded like someone was rubbing two rough pieces of metal together. With those words, Dalquiel flew away.

A scowl covered Marius’s face, as if he wanted nothing more than to have Dalquiel beneath him in place of Baal. He realized it was just him and Marius in the room then. Marius walked over to him, looking out the broken window at the setting sun. The whole affair had hardly lasted ten minutes.

“Well done Kirio. It is good to see I have placed my trust in someone who knows what is right.” His lips were raised in a gentle, but fake smile. Kirio found himself unable to stand it.

“I know you were testing me. You’d have won with or without me.” He said, dispensing with any notion that he could be manipulated through fake smiles and fake rewards.

Marius eyed him, raising an eyebrow before returning his gaze to the sunset.

“And you passed. You showed more loyalty than many of the emperor's angels have.”

“Those creatures betray humanity?” Kirio blurted, surprised that the seemingly perfect killing machines would turn against their god.

“Yes. It was things like them who entombed the Emperor upon his throne. Who doomed the imperium to rot. Who sullied the Emperor’s perfect vision for humanity. They are excellent tools, but must be kept in check.” He glanced at Kirio, a silent understanding passing between them. In the back of his mind, Kirio wondered why Marius seemed to be slandering the Imperium he had praised before.

“Dalquiel said you were a radical. What did he mean by that?” The inquisitor sighed, grimacing.

“The imperium has two major classifications for those who do not perfectly fit the mold of human. Those designations being ab-human, and xeno. A xeno is a member of an entirely different species. They are enemies of humanity, without exception. Abhumans are descended from humans who mutated for one reason or another. I... mostly agree with the distinction on xeno’s but… I find that we treat abhumans as lessers far too often. We drive them away from the Emperor's light. I do not know how many saints we have lost because of this. All I know is that Anthea should have been a saint, and the imperium drove her away.” He looked wistfully up at Anthea’s shell, as if regretting its presence in a strange way.

“And this makes you some sort of radical?”

“Not entirely. It would put me on the outskirts, but I would still be trusted. No. What makes me radical in their eyes is that I wished to expand the definition of Ab-human, and to bring judgement upon those who would drive them away. I wanted to make it so that xenos who were close to the human form could be classified as Ab-human, and brought into the fold. Imagine a world in which the imperium is not stretched so thin, where we can pull our troops from certain fronts and move against our true enemies with our full strength.” Kirio just stared at him, unsure of how to respond.

“Ah. Forgive me. I forget you are not imperial. Perhaps I have spent too long away from home.” He chuckled dryly.

Kirio had one question burning in his mind. Well he had several actually, but he could condense them somewhat.

“What do you plan to do after this? If you manage to take control of this world, do you really think you can maintain control? You already said that this imperium of yours is stretched thin. And with what you just said, it seems to me your imperium would prefer to exterminate us.” Marius sighed.

“I pity your species. You are innocent. Yet to see what true horror and despair are. We will do what we must to maintain control. We are stretched thin, but what are a few backwater worlds to this perfect dimension? This is a world of psykers, a paradise, free from the ruinous powers.” He said, spreading his arms as if to encompass the world. Blood dripped from his arms as he did.

“The plan is simple. Crush the demon lords standing against us and establish contact with the imperium. Once that is done, this world will be integrated into the imperium. Demons with acceptable forms will be classified as Abhumans, and those without will be purged. This world will become the stepping stone used to change the imperium, to save us from our rot. So long as you pay your tithes and comply with imperial demands, I will ensure that is all that happens.”

Marius turned, and for a moment, the sun fell just behind him, making it look as if the light was shining from him, as if his God-Emperor had reached out and touched him from across the void of dimensions.

“Stay by my side Kirio, and I will show you worlds of despair, and every other emotion you could desire.” He reached out his hand, Baals drying blood sitting in its grooves. For a moment, Kirio hesitated, before making the only real choice he had. He reached out, and took the inquisitor's hand.

Chapter Text

Rowan: Border control had finally allowed them to go home. Nearly all of the students were met by their parents the moment they were out of the camp. Lied had seen his sister, Asmodeus saw his mother.

Mrs. Valac had been one of the first parents to arrive. She had thrown Clara into a hug as soon as she saw her. Much to his surprise, she had thrown Rowan into a similar hug. He tried not to think about it.

Now they were back at her house. Clara was in her room. She seemed to have retreated from the world in the week since the attack. There was none of the bubbly energy that defined her before left. It hurt to see her like that. She was not Krieg. She should not have the same hollow eyes his comrades did.

Rowan and Mrs. Valac were alone in the kitchen. The sun was setting. Outside, the plants in the garden were slowly withering. The older demon tapped her fingers rapidly on the counter. She had also changed. The signs of prolonged stress were writ large on her face. She looked a 100 years older than when he had last seen her.

Neither of them had spoken since Clara had gone to her room. Mrs. Valac hadn’t asked about the attack, and neither he nor Clara were eager to share any details. When Mrs. Valac finally spoke, it was in a quiet voice.

“I understand you intend to enlist tomorrow.”

“Yes. I was hoping you could take care of my familiar in the meantime.” His familiar lived at the Valac house already. Rowan had been feeding it daily. It was a small thing, so it stayed in the house. The Valac children had treated it like a pet, and the two headed bird had accepted that, seemingly quite happy about the endless attention it received from them.

“Are you sure that is what you want,” she asked, turning towards him ever so slightly. “You haven’t told me everything about the human realm, but…” She paused, searching for words.

“You don’t owe anyone here anything,” she said with finality. Rowan remembered her saying it a lot when they had first met. He believed it, in a way. But every time he thought of it, he saw Balam’s head, flying through the air, and Ameri’s corpse. They had given everything to their cause, and they weren't even soldiers. He couldn’t rest knowing that.

“I will join. You can’t change my mind.” The words came out harsher than he intended. Mrs. Valac was silent for a long moment.

“I did a good job, didn’t I? I raised all my kids to be happy. But I suppose you were always going to be different.” She laughed quietly.

“I am not one of your children. I am a soldier of Krieg." He felt more like he was trying to convince himself of that fact rather than Mrs. Valac. She stopped laughing.

“No. I suppose you aren’t.”

After that, things were a blur. He packed what little he had into his backpack. At one point, he found his las rifle in a closet. He wanted to take it with him, but that wouldn’t work for obvious reasons.

The next morning, he said a final goodbye to Mrs. Valac, and left before Clara got up. He didn’t want to see her face, and didn't want to apologize to her. He simply left, and hoped that she would move on.

Asmodeus: Border control agents brought the recruits into a large field, filled with training equipment. There was an obstacle course on one side, and a flat area on the other, filled with sparring arenas that were really just white circles on the ground.

The Babyls recruits had arrived at their school that morning, and had been brought to a field nearby. Border control had clearly been hard at work, turning the place into a makeshift training ground. There was the vibe that this was a real training camp for a real army. At a glance, that was true. But Asmodeus suspected that things were going poorly just beneath the surface. They had barely had any security checks, and there was no orientation to speak of. They were given light armor and dark blue uniforms, and that was it.

In the distance, Babyls looked like it had never been attacked. The angle from which they could see it now obscured where most of the damage had been done. But there were still some signs. A broken window here, a scorch mark in the wall. A tiny reminder of what had happened.

Asmodeus saw Rowan among the crowd. For a moment, they made eye contact, before both of them quickly looked away. Asmodeus wanted nothing to do with the human. He didn’t hate him, if anything, he was glad he was here. All the better to keep an eye on him.

A gruff agent in a pressed uniform stepped in front of them. He leered at the students, badges covering his left breast, a gray beard on his face.

“Listen up. We hardly have the time to waste on you a lot, but I have been assured you will be well motivated. Do as I say, and some of you might just live long enough to get your hands on that human. From now on, there are no classes. You are one unit, one legion of vengeful souls. Am I clear mongrels?”

The students gave a cheer, and from that point on they hardly got a break. They were put through the obstacle course, tested for their magical capabilities, and taught new combat skills. They made sure to empathize with the spells that let them pick up large objects and hurl them things. They didn’t even bother to explain why. Everyone they taught had seen first hand those spells' importance.

They taught everyone except Rowan. The human obviously couldn’t use magic, and that had been in his file when he entered Babyls as a student, as well as the fact that he couldn’t fly. For a large chunk of training, he was forced to be on the sidelines. The instructors didn’t let him sit idle though, and Asmodeus saw him out of the corner of his eye doing push ups and every other type of physical exercise that didn’t involve flying. He didn’t even look tired as he did. Asmodeus swore there was a hint of boredom hiding behind those dead eyes. It pissed him off. On the plus side, it provided plenty of motivation for him to keep moving.

It continued like this for two days. The instructors took notes on each of their performances. Asmodeus took notes in the back of his mind as well, rating each of the surviving misfits in his mind. Sabnock had been above and beyond the rest of the students. Asmodeus liked to consider himself second. Lied and Jazz were about the same level, although they helped each other a lot, something he supposed would take away from their individual rankings. The rest of the class was about on par with all the other first year students in his mind. Rowan was the only one he couldn’t rank. Had he not known about Rowan’s origins, he would put him dead last. But he did know, and that made him unrankable.

On the third day, the instructors dragged the students out of their tents and had them go to the sparring grounds instead of the obstacle course. The groggy students were crowded around the rings, first years around one ring, second years around another, and third years around another. In front of each ring was a table with every type of weapon one could desire. An instructor landed in front of the first years and began to speak, a gruff voice carrying itself clearly over the crowd.

“You lot have performed tolerably for the last two days. So, we’ve decided to see which of you actually holds up against an opponent. Each of you will be paired against someone from your year. The rules are simple: no magic, no flying, no familiars. You’ll need to be able to fight without either of those skills if you want to beat that human. Am I clear?”

The students all murmured to each other, but no hands were raised.

“Great. You will be allowed to choose one dull weapon. So long as you don’t kill your opponent, there are no restrictions. Pretend your fighting the human. Channel that anger. Now then, our first matchup is… Asmodeus and Rowan.”

… Just fucking wonderful. Well, at least he would finally be able to decide where to rank Rowan.

Asmodeus went to the table and considered his options. He normally preferred to fight with magic, so he had no idea what to choose. After deliberating for long enough that the instructor poked him with the butt of a baton, he hastily picked up a spear. He reasoned that it would be good to keep Rowan nice and far away from him. He had also heard that spears were easy to use.

Rowan grabbed a sword that was about 2 and a half feet long. He twirled it in his hand before stepping into the ring. They stared at each other for a moment before the instructor yelled to begin.

They circled around the ring for an agonizing few seconds. Asmodeus racked his brain, trying to remember every detail of when he had first met Rowan. The memories did not help his confidence.

Asmodeus struck first, stepping forward and jabbing with his spear. He hoped to catch the human off guard, but failed miserably. Rowan knocked the spear away and lunged. Asmodeus barely moved out of the way in time. A second swing nicked his shoulder before he could get away.

He tried several times to get away, but Rowan was on him the whole way. Finally, he planted his foot and managed to get enough distance to bring his spear around. It was a pathetic display. He found himself trying to do an overhead strike with a spear. Either way, he put all his strength into it. Rowan would have to dodge, and from there he could get some extra distance and bring the length of his spear back into play.

Only Rowan didn’t dodge.

The human moved in quickly, as if he didn’t see the handle of the spear coming down on him. He dropped his sword as the spear hit his shoulder. Asmodeus felt something give just before Rowan hit him, knocking him down while the human's other hand went for his throat.

He hit the ground hard as Rowan put his full weight on him. His spear clattered to the ground out of reach. He couldn’t breathe. Rowan’s hand tightened around his throat as he clawed to remove it. Suddenly, the pressure released, and Rowan got off him. He gasped for air as Rowan stood. The instructor appeared above him.

“Get up. You lost.” He said with a sneer. Asmodeus did as he was told, finding the strength to his knees and looking over at Rowan. He had dislocated the human's right shoulder, and the arm was hanging limply to his side. The instructor started to move towards him, but before he could do anything, Rowan reached over with his other arm, and moved the limp shoulder up quickly, popping it back into place. He hissed in pain as he did. He tested the arm as he moved back toward the crowd, gently rolling the shoulder and stretching the arm. He got halfway back to the other students before an instructor grabbed his good shoulder and dragged him to the side.

Asmodeus rejoined the other students, who appeared somewhat stunned. An instructor was performing healing magic on Rowan's arm, seemingly to the human’s surprise, as if he didn’t expect basic medical treatment.

Asmodeus saw then the very basic difference between him and Rowan. Rowan had killed before, probably using the same technique that he used against Asmodeus as well. Unlike every other student currently in the field, he had actual combat experience, and if he wasn’t lying about what the human world was like, he had been training and fighting for his entire short life.

From there, the mood was set. The students tore at each other, each trying to surpass the other in the same way Rowan had. The instructors seemed to be trying to get all the students they knew were friendly to fight each other. Lied and Jazz had been one of those fights. Lied had won with a knockout punch to Jazz’s head. Jazz appeared to struggle the same way Asmodeus had, having relied on his bloodline ability for any fights beforehand. Lied was more than a little apologetic after the fact.

By the end of the day, they were all covered in bruises and small cuts. The instructors healed any major injuries, but left them with all the minor ones. They all stumbled back to their tents and crowded in. Asmodeus’s head hit the pillow, and he was asleep before he knew it.

He was roused by a strange sound. It was early morning, and for a moment he thought it was the instructors coming to get them up for another day of training. But when he sat up, he saw the faint glow of a screen on the other side of the tent. All the other misfits were crowded around it. Rowan was hunched to the side, leaning over Jazz as he looked. Asmodeus got up and joined the others. They were crowded around Lied, who somehow had his phone with him.

“Why do you have that?” Asmodeus hissed.

“Shut it hardass. The guards weren't that thorough when they checked our bags. I just want to know what's going on in the world, see where we might end up going.”

“The instructors will be here any moment.”

“Yeah yeah. Just go back to bed if you're that scared of em.”

Asmodeus bit back another retort. Despite himself, he looked down at Lied's phone. On it was a news channel, talking about the attack on Babyls, analyzing all the details about the inquisitor that the public knew. Asmodeus noted that they got much of it wrong. There was a decent amount of footage of the attack that had gotten out, and that footage was replayed over and over again. It was blurry, pausing before any of the gory bits. Asmodeus’s mind filled in the rest for him.

There were two commentators, and they were arguing over how the attack had taken place, assigning blame to the faculty and Sullivan for not discovering the plot sooner. Seeing that they actually agreed on something, they pivoted to talking about what the inquisitor’s motivations were, arguing over where he would strike next.

Asmodeus was only half paying attention. It wasn’t like anything the anchors were talking about was helpful. He was about to go back to bed when the broadcast suddenly started flickering, before cutting out completely.

“Come on ya stupid thing,” Lied grumbled, smacking the side of the phone. And then the broadcast came back. But instead of the two anchors, they were met by the smiling face of Marius Amelius.

Chapter Text

Kirio: Marius paced behind a large curtain, checking each detail of his armor as he did. They were on a large stage, the curtain the only thing standing between them and the soldiers of the Southern Demon Army. The stage protruded from a wall, facing out. In front of it were hundreds of seats and enough space to fit an entire army. Which was exactly what it was doing now.

Marius, seemingly satisfied with the state of his armor, turned to Kirio, and the Astartes.

“We’re set. Get ready to raise the curtains.” He said, stepping over to a the podium in the center of the stage.

Baal had planned to address his troops before they set out, and the Inquisitor had chosen to use the event to reveal his coup. Speaking of Baal, he was next to Kirio.

His arms hung limply by his side. Much of his torso had been removed, and his legs had been replaced with tracks. His hair was a matted mess, only left on his head so he would be recognizable. His mouth was covered with a metal rebreather, and despite all the augmentation, his body sank slightly to one side. Marius had said that he had to rush the process, but had done the best he could in such a short time. It was a terrifying sight. Kirio tried to focus on the despair he had been promised from the newly made servitor, but he could barely find any. There was only a terrible obedience left in the once proud demon.

Dalquiel and his marines showed no emotion as the curtain began to rise. They stood stock straight, weapons pointed down, but ready to be used at a moment's notice. Behind them, two black banners emblazoned with the symbol of the inquisition hung on the wall, in the exact spots where the banners with Baals symbols used to be.

Kirio took a breath, straightened his posture, and looked ahead as the curtain lifted. It revealed a throng of demons clad in battle armor, some sitting in rows upon rows of crowded seats, some flying just above them.

Immediately, there was an uproar.

Many of the soldiers began pointing their weapons at the stage. They were the regulars in Baal's army. They had never known about the Inquisitor's involvement with their leader. For a moment it seemed like they would shoot first, and Kirio saw the marines start to raise their guns. But Marius’s voice cut through the air before either side could fire.

“Demons! I speak to you today with a heavy heart. For months, I have worked with your leader in the hopes that he would be a strong king for your people.” He paused, letting the words sink in for a moment. “But, he proved weak. Just a couple days ago, he spoke to his officers, and informed us that he was planning to negotiate. He was not planning to take the throne. He had been cowed by offers of easy glory from other members of the 13 crowns. He would enrich himself with a short campaign, and leave you, his loyal soldiers, in the gutter!” He slammed his fist down on the podium.

“And so, I have punished him for his hubris,” He gestured toward Baal on the stage. There were a plethora of gasps as all eyes fell on the servitor, which rolled slowly toward Marius, stopping a few feet from him.

“Allow me to tell you why I am here. I am here because I wish to see demons and humans coexisting in peace. I wish to see our peoples uplift each other, to see a brighter tomorrow for every world! And that is what I will do. You have watched your government become stagnant, unable to elect a new king. You have seen it rot, the very foundations that made it work slowly corroding under the bloat of corruption.” He paused for a moment, scanning the crowd.

“Ten thousand years ago, humanity too suffered under the weight of a golden age gone stale. Humanity was fractured, broken, and facing extinction. But, from the ashes of the old world, arose a single man. He was powerful, and he united the warring factions under the glorious banner of the imperium. As the end of that age approached, he sacrificed himself so that humanity would prosper, entombing himself upon the golden throne so that humanity may live on. It is my duty as an inquisitor, and indeed the duty of all humans, to protect that legacy, and to safeguard his dream of a humanity at peace. He is the God Emperor of Mankind.” He paused again, letting the weight of the title sink in.

“In overthrowing Baal I do not ask you to follow me. I do not ask you to put yet another hapless government in power. I ask you to follow the God Emperor. To let him into your hearts, and let him uplift you as he has humanity. He has sent his angels of death to this world to ensure your success,” Marius gestured at one of the marines, keeping his eyes on the crowd as he did. “All that is left is for you to reach out, and accept his blessings.”

There was a moment of pure silence. It was as if the air itself had stopped moving. And then, a voice cut through that air.

“All hail the Emperor! All hail Amelius!” The cheer was repeated from various points in the crowd, and eventually, the whole crowd began to cheer, caught up in the hype. A fervor filled the gathered soldiers. Kirio looked out and saw demons with beaks for mouths, fur covering their bodies, and claws for arms, all screaming their approval. None of them fit Marius's vision of the netherworld. They were cheering for the one who would bring their end.

Kirio knew that the crowd had been manipulated somewhat. While all shouted their approval now, the first to shout had been members of the six fingers, specifically those who had been with Marius on the Babyls strike force. They had been scattered through the crowd before the event, and now proved their loyalty.

“Soldiers, prepare yourselves for the road ahead. Death to the weak! Glory to the strong!” The inquisitor raised his fist, and let the cheers wash over him. And, just for a moment, his perfect composure slipped, and he glanced back at the Astartes, his head tilting just enough to see Dalquiel. Disdain flashed on his face for a second, before he seemingly realized what he was doing, and looked back to the crowd.

Kirio looked up, towards a flying camera, floating just above the stage. Baal had planned for the event to be filmed, and Marius had quite liked the idea himself. He wondered who was watching, and wondered if they truly understood exactly what they had just seen.

Asmodeus: No one spoke as the broadcast finally cut out. Asmodeus felt like he had been punched in the gut. The man who had killed so many of his friends, had caused him so much pain, had just walked on stage, and received a standing ovation.

Rowan was shaking. It was nearly imperceptible, but Asmodeus knew what to look for. The human hid his emotions well, and being at the back of the group made it so only Asmodeus noticed the way his hands trembled. Sabnock was also trembling, but a part of him seemed to have hardened from the fragile creature that the inquisitor had torn the wings from.

Even after the moment passed, no one spoke. There was nothing to say. They retired to their beds, and, less than an hour later, the drill sergeants came to get them. It was announced that training was over, and that they would be going to join the main border control force massing in the area. Just like that, they were on the march, barely 3 days training, motivated solely by what they had seen.

Rowan: Border Controls army was a nightmare. It was made up of the ragged remains that had remained loyal to the organization as the previous government had collapsed, and the personal guards of two of the remaining thirteen crowns, those being Asmodeus’s mother, and Azeal Ameri, Ameri’s father. The rest of the crowns had pulled away to defend their own territories.

They had managed to get some info about what was going on from the instructors before they arrived. The Babyls students were part of an effort to rebuild border control strength for the coming war. If nothing else, they could be counted on to be motivated. This was, apparently, unlike many of Border Control's remnants. According to rumors, many had deserted at the first sign of trouble. Apparently, they had been used to keeping down the weak, and had left at the first sign of real trouble. Those that remained seemed to either have nowhere to go, some loyalties within the organization, or genuinely believed in Border Control's stated goal of keeping balance in the Netherworld.

They were guided into the camp by their drill instructors. Rowan was being carried by one of them. From above, as they came into land, Rowan couldn’t help but compare the camp to Krieg and Cadian ones he had seen back home. It looked like there had been attempts at having the proper pomp and ceremony in some places, but in others it looked worse than a temporary Cadian camp, and any semblance of organization fell apart after you got a certain distance from the center.

All of this served as an explanation to him for why no one had asked questions about his nature at training. They were desperate, and he had files that seemed to explain things, so no one looked into it any further.

The landing was smooth enough, and Rowan practically shook himself out of the sergeant's arms as they did. When he looked around, he spotted Kalego waiting to greet them. The teacher came over to them, saluting.

“Good to see all of you. Follow me.”

He took them to a somewhat spacious area in the camp, around a cookpot. It wasn't that busy at the time, and they crammed around the teacher as they waited for their orders.

“Allow me to first say that I am sorry. I never wanted any of you to be here. My brother forced my hand on the subject. But I was at least able to get him to give me command of your battalion. I swore an oath to protect my students. If I had my wish, none of you would be here right now.” Kalego's voice broke for a moment, a shaky breath being drawn, as if to steady himself.

“At least as your commanding officer, I can keep you somewhat safe. You’ll be kept in a reserve role unless the situation becomes incredibly dire. I will probably not be with you during battle due to my power and experience, but I want you all to keep yourselves safe above all else. Understood?” There were murmurs of disappointment from some of the students but no one protested. Soon after, they made their way to the outside of the camp, and began setting up their tents, hoisting a purple flag with the Bablys school logo on it in the center of them.

As Rowan finished setting up his tent, he looked at all the other students, and felt a sense of wrongness. They shouldn’t be here. They should be at home, or someplace far from the fighting. He was the professional soldier, it should be him and him alone joining this army.

As he was looking around, he made eye contact with Asmodeus. This was more than enough motivation for him to look away and finish setting up his tent. As he put the final touches on it, he heard a voice behind him.

“Hey, can we talk?” It was Asmodeus. Rowan nearly flinched at his voice.

“Sure…” he said warily. They stepped into the tent, and faced each other. Rowan wasn’t sure what to expect. Was Asmodeus about to threaten him, and if so, with what leverage?

“Look, I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” Asmodeus spoke so quickly that Rowan barely had time to register all the words and what they meant together. He didn’t know what to say.

“I shouldn’t have been so cruel to you then or ever. I was angry and you were the closest thing that I could blame. It shouldn’t have happened, and it won’t happen again. I don’t know if you can forgive me, but I wanted to say I’m sor-”

“I forgive you.” The words tumbled out of Rowan's mouth before he realized he was saying them. “It was just an argument, it wasn’t anything serious.” And it shouldn’t have been. He was Krieg, getting yelled at shouldn’t even faze him. He shouldn’t have felt what he did before, during or after the argument.

Asmodeus looked at him with this strange look, a mix of pity and shame. It somehow made Rowan angry. He had just forgiven him, Asmodeus should just sigh and walk away.

“Even still, I’m sorry. I know that probably isn’t something people do where you're from, but it is here, and I want to do what is right.”

Neither of them spoke for a long moment. Rowan wasn’t sure what to say. He couldn’t form words. One moment he was about to dismiss Asmodeus, the next he was about to cry. Asmodeus finally broke the silence.

“I’ll go now. I just want to talk since we might be going into battle soon. Keep yourself safe.” He turned to leave.

“Wait… I’m sorry too.” Asmodeus turned. “Before the attack, I was planning to look for the Inquisitor and use him to get home. You didn’t do anything wrong, okay?” He looked at him with that same accursed expression.

“You already told me you had nothing to do with the attack.”

“Yes but-”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. Please, I am begging you to understand that. You are more than just a nameless object. Okay?”

“… Okay,” Rowan said, only half meaning it. That was seemingly enough to satisfy Asmodeus. The demon nodded and left, leaving Rowan with his thoughts.

Kirio: Inquisitor Marius Amelius, leader of the Southern Demon Army, representative of the God Emperor of Mankind, was fond of chess. When he offered his services to Baal, he had asked for a private office, access to maps and statistics about the Netherworld, and a chessboard. He had taught Baal the game, and they had spent much time playing it before the two had set out to kill the Three Greats. Baal had apparently been pretty good at the game.

Kirio was not.

Since Baal… no longer possessed the mental faculty to play, Kirio was Marius’s new opponent/punching bag. He had quickly come to understand that he would most likely never win a round. Marius had just beaten him in one game, and they were setting up the board for a second match. Smoke drifted over the horizon as they laid out the pawns again.

They were on the outskirts of the Southern Demon Armies camp. In the distance, a small town was burning. Earlier in the day, when the army had arrived in the area, they had sent a demand for food and water to the town. Instead of bowing to the demands, a small garrison of Border Control soldiers had ambushed them as they attempted to set up camp. Once the garrison had been driven back, Marius had ordered the entire town put to the sword. That had been 3 hours ago. It was only now that the main body of soldiers were returning from looting the town. Hastily sewn black banners with the Inquisitorial seal on them fluttered above them.

The chessboard in front of Kirio was immaculate. It was carved of fine wood, and the edges were a combination of golden leaf designs, and two human aquilas on either side of the board. The pieces were each unique demons, carved from the same wood, with each detail of both the white and black side highlighted in a way that made it impossible for the eye to miss any detail. It was set up on an overturned crate.

Just then, as Marius was moving his first pawn, Dalquiel came over to them. All the other angels had returned to camp after the Garrison had been defeated, along with Marius and the Six Fingers, but Dalquiel had stayed to observe the looting. For some reason. Kirio couldn’t help but think that the angel just wanted some gold jewelry to adorn his armor.

“Inquisitor,” Dalquiel said, his helmet making it sound like a deep rasp. “I have observed your troops, and they are lesser than penal guardsmen. They have all the foolishness of simple mortals, and lack the purity that those mortals have by the nature of their humanity. I pray that you will purge them once this world is under our control.” He spoke as if Kirio wasn’t there.

“Yes yes, you know the plan. Have you come to an understanding regarding the nature of this world's warp energy?”

“Yes. It appears to simply be an empty and pure form of the warp. It is easy to use, and the barrier between it and the material world must be so thin as to allow these xenos to access it from anywhere. When we make contact with the imperium, we must be certain to prevent the tainted warp from slipping in.”

“Yes. According to my research, the Goetia Museum should have a door that leads to the Imperium. If rumors are to be believed, it has been used before, and it would seem that no contamination has made it through.” The Goetia Museum apparently had a door that led to other worlds. The bet was that said world was the human world, because what else could it be?

“We must ensure that no heretics get through the door once we seize it. The warp itself might not contaminate this world, but a single heretic may give the ruinous powers a toehold here, and if that happens…” Marius trailed off. Whatever he was implying was enough to shut up Dalquiel as well.

“Well, hopefully the door will bring us to Terra and not Acht 6 and make our lives easy. But if it brings us to Acht 6 we’ll need to bring enough soldiers to hold the breach. Assess the demons you find most tolerable. Find those who will be able to survive the strain of the warp.”

Dalquiel nodded, and walked away, his armoured boots sinking slightly into the ground with every step. Kirio raised an eyebrow at Marius.

“I believe you owe me an explanation,” He said, moving his first pawn. Marius sighed, also moving a pawn.

“I suppose I do. I’ll start with the warp. I’ve already mentioned bits of it, but the general gist of it is that it is a… unreality. Certain humans can tap into that unreality, and use it for magic.” He paused, as if searching for the right words, and Kirio moved another piece on the board. “The difference between the magic of our world and of yours is that whatever unreality you have is, as he said, empty. You can tap into it with ease, and with very little consequences to yourself. The warp has… things in it. Things which must not be named. There are near infinite representations of those things in the warp, which we call Daemons.” He paused again, scanning the board. “No relation to your species.” Kirio could hardly comprehend all that Marius was saying.

“And what did you mean by finding demons that could ‘survive the strain of the warp?” Marius moved another of his pieces.

“Human psykers must be tightly controlled, and their powers limited to prevent them from going mad. Any psyker we find that shows any weakness must be killed immediately. If they are let be, they may become a conduit for Daemons to enter the material world, or, Emperor forbid, become the servants to the warp. That is what the warp does to those that gaze upon it. They become the playthings of beings beyond comprehension. Demons that are used to simply using magic constantly will be at an even greater risk, and will be harder to stop if they go rogue.” Marius spoke like this was all perfectly normal, even scanning the chessboard as he did, but Kirio detected something different about the Inquisitor's voice. A slip in the perfect facade of control his voice always had.

That was enough reason for Kirio to believe him.

He moved another piece, not knowing if there was anything he should say. Marius spoke again soon.

“The problem of the warp would be nullified by the Emperor's presence if the door brings us to Terra, but we can’t guarantee that, and Acht 6 had warp activity on it when I was there. There must be a force that can hold the breach.” Marius’s brow furrowed. He had spoken of the world he had been on before arriving in the Netherworld. It seemed the Space Marines had been on the same world. Despite having access to them now, this fact seemed to worry Marius. The situation had been a “complete mess” according to him before he had left, and the fact that the Emperor's angels had been called in meant that the situation had not been improving in his absence. If they arrived on the planet and found it under the control of the ‘orks’ that he had described, then they may not receive imperial support at all. Kirio moved a piece, and an idea crossed his mind.

“Even still, I’d prefer to have the door open on Acht 6. All the better to keep this world far away from Imperial bureaucracy. There are far too many on terra who lack the sense to handle a situation like this rationally.” Marius moved a piece and… His queen was exposed.

Was he unnerved?

Kirio didn’t hesitate, removing the queen before putting much thought into it. He hardly had the chance to bask in his victory before Marius moved his bishop.

“Checkmate.”

Kirio’s heart sank. For a moment he thought he had finally beaten Marius. The inquisitor sighed, and started putting the pieces away, folding the board to reveal a neat little case. Even as he did, something nagged at Kirio’s mind.

“Why have you not tried to use the spell Sullivan did.” Marius turned, a hint of annoyance flashing on his face.

“W-What I mean,” Kirio said hastily. “Is that you told me how it was a failed spell that brought you here. You recovered notes from Sullivan's office. Surely you could recreate the spell he used, just in a way that, you know, doesn’t explode?”

Marius’s annoyance turned to amusement.

“Well for one, it is an exceedingly difficult spell to even cast. Secondly…” The shell covering Anthea opened. Kirio covered his head as pain slammed into his mind. It was for just a moment, but he still fell out of his seat.

“What was that for?” He growled as he got to his knees.

“Could you have used magic then?”

“What? No?”

“Sullivan could.” Kirio froze.

“When I killed Sullivan, I cut off his head before he could react. I had Anthea deployed, and my blade in his neck all in the span of a single moment. But when I looked down, I saw his hands sparking, and his head sparking. He was trying to cast a spell in his last moments. When I was right. Next. To. Him. Believe me when I tell you if I had not had the element of surprise on my side, he would have made a mockery of me. Any of the 3 greats would have. If any of them had survived, I would have left Baal and hid until whatever chaos he sowed let me slip through the museum door.” Marius paused to let his words truly sink in.

“In his notes, Sullivan describes being ‘drained’ after casting the spell. Can you even comprehend the level of power that would require? And he was only able to hold the spell for a few moments before it broke apart. Enough power to coat the forest with, for barely a moment of actual use. If I was to try and build a device that could stabilize that power, it would take months if not more. And once complete, it would consume demons whole, draining both magic and life force in order to stay open for fractions of a second. We can ill afford that. Taking control of a world is one thing. Maintaining it is another. The museum door is our only true option.”

With that Marius stood, bringing the chess board close, and walked away, leaving Kirio to stumble to his feet, and wait for the splitting headache to fade, and watch the last of the smoke drift across the horizon.

Chapter Text

Kalego: It was a beautiful day. The forecast said it would be a beautiful week. As the sun shined down on a large field, Border Controls officers surrounded a small table. They were situated at the edge of the field, the treeline providing ample shade.

Border Control’s army had moved to the outskirts of Belran, a decently large city that appeared to be in the path of the Inquisitors' army. The city was providing them with food and water, as well as its local police forces. Word of what the inquisitor’s troops were doing in the countryside had spread fast, and the city feared it would be next on the list of burned out husks if Border Control couldn’t hold the enemy off.

A map of the local area was laid out on the table. Flags representing the opposing armies were laid out on it. Kalego’s brother, Narnia, one of the heads of Demon Border Control, leaned over one side. Azeal Henri, the other leader, was on the opposite side. Both were in clean uniforms, adorned with decorations. The two had always been rivals, and their opinions of each other showed no signs of improving.

“Marius is ignoring any village that isn’t directly in his path. He is also ignoring the territory of crown Behemont. He clearly has some objective he wants to reach as quickly as possible.” Henri said, eyes fixed on the inquisitorial markers.

“The human is trying to catch us off guard. He thinks that we won’t be able to put together a large enough force to face him before he gets here. That is why we have pressed the Bablys students and others into this force. If we can dig in here, he won’t be able to dislodge us. There is no fancy other objective, and the more time we spend chasing theories, the less time we spend preparing to meet him. He is going to be here by tomorrow. My scouts can only harry him so much. Every second we waste reduces our chances of surviving.” Narnia rebutted.

Kalego just sighed. The two had been going back and forth like this for the better part of the hour. He turned away as they continued to bicker. It would be difficult to win if the two most powerful demons in the army killed each other. They had minor lords like Bachiko with them, called to action by the death of someone at the inquisitors hand, but Narnia and Henri were the key pieces that would make any plan work. No fortifications would hold without them. Speaking of fortifications, they were digging a lot of them.

All around them, soldiers, his students included, labored to dig entrenchments and build artillery emplacements. It was a rare sight in the netherworld. Most battles were quick, and emplacements often made useless by the fact that demons could fly. But the Inquisitor threw a wrench into normal planning.

“As I’ve said, the only way to beat Marius is to win in the air. A ground battle is what he wants, and we have no hope of holding him for long. He and his human ‘Angels’ can’t fly. With them neutralized, it will just be standard combat.” Henri said.

“Yeah, against the finest soldiers of the Southern Demon army.” Narnia said. A silence fell over the two of them. Kalego turned to them.

“Do we have a plan of retreat if things go wrong in the air?” He asked, meeting Henri’s eyes. Doing that had been difficult in the weeks following the attack on Babyls. Ameri had died under his watch. Henri had said it wasn’t his fault, but it still was hard to look the man in the eyes. It had, however, quickly become a preferable option to Narnia after his brother had pressed his students into the army.

“Yes. If things go wrong, your troops will retreat immediately. I will stay behind with my contingent to buy you time.” Henri said. His eyes were filled with a vengeful determination. Kalego knew that, if the scenario were to arise, Henri would probably make a beeline straight for Marius.

Kalego looked back to the map, a small bit of his fear soothed by Henri’s promise. There were still other things to figure out though. Namely, what could possibly be Marius’s objective. Despite what Narnia had said, there was no doubt in Kalego’s mind that the inquisitor had some goal other than just defeating them. He was moving too fast, ignoring too much for anything else to be true. But what.

He put his finger on the map, drawing the path the enemy had taken. When that yielded no results, he tried to think of what was behind them. There was nothing of particular import in Belran. It was only important for its size and the resources that an army could take from it. Other than that, there wasn’t much in the area. Just the Goetia museum. Maybe there were some human artifacts there, but that wouldn’t explain why-

Oh.

“The Goetia museum. The door. That's Marius’s objective.” Kalego stumbled over his words, his mouth struggling to catch up with his mind.

“What are you saying?” Narnia said as he and Henri turned to look at him.

“He wants to open the Goetia Museum door. If he can do that, he thinks he’ll be able to contact the human world.” No one spoke. The implication of that was enough to shut them all up. They didn’t know much about the Imperium Marius claimed to represent, but they had seen enough of its tools to know that a war against it would end poorly for them. Finally, Narnia spoke.

“That doesn’t change the plan. We hold most of our forces back and lure his flying regiments above us. Then we send out the bulk of our troops and crush them. After that, we bombard the bastard from the sky until there's nothing left.” No one protested. It had been the plan from the start. Neutralize the air units and prevent a breakthrough on the ground. Except now it had to work. Or else the war may already be lost.

After confirming the plan, there was nothing else to say. They went to their battalions, preparing to ensure that they were ready for the coming storm.

Rowan: Now this was a taste of home. Digging. He, and most of the army, had been doing that for the better part of the day.

It was just as mind numbing as before.

There were some differences. Unlike a Krieg trench, the ones that were currently being dug were nowhere near the standard that Krieg fortifications would be built too. Then again, it looked like the enemy would arrive the next day, so there wasn’t exactly time for rockcrete bunkers and tunnels. Still, it felt wrong.

No one was talking as they dug. There was no mood for it. Everyone knew what they were up against. If nothing else, it made them efficient. By sunset, they had a series of trenches that comfortably wrapped around enough of Belran that no army would be able to outflank. Well, it was more like a single, extremely long trench, but the point stood. The Inquisitor would have to face them head on.

The trench would also have artillery emplacements. There were magical pieces, plants that grew and sprouted into what looked like gatling guns. The concept was hard for Rowan to wrap his mind around, so he didn’t give them much thought. The majority of the artillery was much different anyway. They were, in essence, primitive cannons. Presumably using magic to fire a physical ball vaguely in a certain direction. Everyone knew what they were for. No magical projectiles could be used against Marius, so they needed something to fire physical projectiles at him. To their credit, they were quite large, and probably would be effective anyway if used right.

With the trench at a satisfying length, they started to bring artillery into position.

They had just started to drag artillery into place when two figures appeared on the horizon. Rowan noticed them, but ignored them. They had seen scouts leave the camp, and had seen some return. If anything, Rowan was annoyed they had brought him out of his thoughts and made him aware of what he was doing. Now finishing the trenches was going to be even more boring.

But something was wrong.

The figures didn’t slow down. They were coming in far too quickly, and they were both holding something. Rowan and a few demons close to him noticed, but no one else did in time. People turned their heads just as the demons passed over them. Rowan stared up at them. It was a moment frozen in time.

On one shoulder was each demon's rank within the demon world. On the other was the Inquisitorial I. And emblazoned on their chest, was a six fingered hand. They were the same demons who had helped the Inquisitor slaughter half the student body of Babyls.

They dropped what they were holding, and turned flying along the trench line. Rowan dived away, expecting an explosion. But nothing happened. When he opened his eyes, there was a severed head next to him.

Well, that explained that.

He got up and dusted himself off. He had seen plenty of corpses before, a bunch of heads wouldn’t faze him. But, he quickly noticed that everyone else seemed to be fazed.
The enemies had dropped multiple heads each. He had no idea the exact number, but everyone he saw looked scared. Everyone had this newfound fear with them, as if the heads made what was happening truly real. They couldn’t hide from it in their thoughts anymore. The demons who had dropped the heads were at that point making a break for it. They were being chased, but it was clear they would get away.

Ironically, it seemed that the Babyls students were dealing with the psychological stress the best. Rowan could see Sabnock, and the demon was already back to work. He supposed it made sense. They had actually fought Marius before. The image of Sullivan's body cut up and hung on stage was burned into all their memories. All the other soldiers had yet to deal with that it seemed. There were still clearly veterans in the crowd, but they were few and far between.

He sighed, reaching down and picking up a head. It would be no good to just leave them around. He grabbed it by a horn, feeling the hair brush against the lower part of his hand. He grabbed another head and slipped away from the trench to find someone to bury them.

A few minutes later, he returned to the trench. An officer had taken the heads for whatever burial demons preferred, and now it was back to work. Not that there was much left to do for the day. Most of the artillery was in place, the trench was deep enough to last for what little time would hopefully be required of it, and they were out of light. Still, there were some things that needed to be finished, and he ran around doing just that. Soon enough, everything was ready, and the officers were saying that they could go to bed.

He passed sentries taking up their posts as he headed past the treeline to the… “camp” They had set up. Whatever the plan was, the officers wanted to conceal their numbers for it. Which was a great idea in his opinion. The issue was that, as it turned out, there was no room to set up tents in a dense forest.

As he looked from tree to tree, trying to see which one would have the most comfortable roots to lay on, Lied and Jazz came up to him. Their expressions were hard, determination and fear mixing together. There was still a hint of the friendliness on their faces though, a remnant of who they should have been.

“Hey, the rest of the students are setting up a bit further back, come on.” Lied said, gesturing with his head as he did. Rowan followed wordlessly, coming out to a small clearing where, sure enough, the students of Babyls were settling in for the night.

Rowan found himself laying his bag down next to where Jazz and Lied planned to sleep. He stared at the place on the bag where the imperial aquila used to be for a moment. If he looked closely, he could see the outline it had left. It was an anchor point for him. A faded reminder of a life that felt so far away now.

He sat down in front of his tree. Jazz and Lied were talking about something, and he leaned in. Maybe it would be a conversation like they had had at Babyls before everything happened.

“The Inquisitor mentioned something about a ‘God Emperor' right? I hope Kalego and the others keep the bastard alive long enough to watch us kill his emperor?

“You think we’ll go to the human world?” Jazz said, a smile forming on his face at the thought.

“Of course we will. It’s the only way we can truly punish what he’s done to our world.”

… Of fucking course. Why was he surprised? They wanted revenge and they were justified in doing so. But it still felt wrong. After all, what would they do if they found out he was human? Would they kill him? Torture him? Eat him?

It had taken him a long time to admit to himself, but he was afraid of death. Despite being Krieg, despite having been close to it more than a few times, it scared him. And the idea of dying at the hands of Jazz, Lied, or any of the other demons he knew scared him even more.

“Rowan, who do you think this God Emperor is?” Jazz asked. Rowan, after recovering from the shock of being addressed, forced a smile onto his face, and looked to the two demons.

The God Emperor of Mankind is a being that is above you and I. His armies control a million worlds, and his will is felt on each and every one of them. He commands more magical power than all demons combined, and there is no way you will ever be able to kill him.

That was what he wanted to say. Instead, he simply said, “I don’t know.”

Jazz’s expression fell for a moment.

“Are you okay?” He asked. His tone was genuine, and it practically made Rowan sick. He was ignorant. Even after seeing what the inquisitor could do first hand, he was still eager to rush into battle like a damned idiot. All he and Lied would do was get themselves killed.

“I’m fine. I just don’t want to talk about that. Good night.” With that, he turned away, laid his head on his bag, and closed his eyes. Neither Lied or Jazz said anything else, and soon he heard the rustling on them settling in for the night.

It would be fine. Whatever Kalego had up his sleeve would probably work. They would just be kept in reserve. Everyone would survive. It would be fine. Everything. Would. Be. Fine.

Chapter Text

Marius: 1 month ago... A large demon hoisted the inquisitor up, hooking his arms under Marius's. Slowly, he brought him up the wall of Babyls, to a specific spot on the wall that Marius thought would be most visible.

The demon carrying him went by the name of Alkan. He was, in simple terms, a large man. Rippling muscles covered every part of his body not covered by cloth or armor. Marius had taken a liking to him. His mind was too small for doubt, and he had the strength to back up any action. Like an ogryn who could fly. Importantly, Alkan was humanoid in figure. No messy fur or feathers. Just a large beastman.

Anthea hovered over Marius's shoulder. He occasionally glanced at her, encased in her shell. There there, he thought, I'll let you out soon. You just need to be patient.

Marius looked up to the ramparts of the Babyls wall. As he did, the mousy figure of Kirio appeared over it. Marius had seen him with Baal once, when he had first been transported to the Netherworld, but he hadn't had the chance to gauge the boy's potential yet. He was also humanoid at least.

"Hey human," Kirio called out in a cheery voice. His eyes were firmly planted on the wings and tail in Marius's hands. "I can't wait to see the despair you and I will create together." With that, he formed a barrier for Marius to stand on.

He was immediately turned off by Kirio. An obsessive sadist. Just what he needed. Maybe the boy might have been useful in the inquisition as a torturer, but that was useless here. He could handle that himself. And he doubted Kirio would actually leave whoever he was tormenting alive for long enough to get decent info. Despite this, he smiled as he stepped closer to the walls.

"If I had been able, I would have recorded taking the wings from Sabnock so I could revisit it. Putting his wings up isn't the same, but I suppose it will have to do for now." Marius smiled, as if he was remembering tearing the demon's wings off, remembering how the boy had screamed as he had been branded with the inquisitorial I.

It didn't actually bring him any pleasure. Torturing never had. And over the years it had grown into a mundane task that he did simply because it was his job. The only reason he had found it anywhere near interesting was because Sabnock was a demon, and he had never had one of those on his rack before. But he feigned pleasure for Kirio. May as well throw the demons off from his true intentions.

Speaking of Sabnock, he was somewhat confused by Baal's orders. The plan had been to attack a student and have Marius appear as some unknown and terrible force. When they had been discussing ideas for what to do, Baal had made explicitly sure to mention that he did not care what happened to his nephew. Even as he had been cutting the wings from Sabnock, that decision had felt wrong. Sabnock seemed powerful. He would have been a good pawn to have, especially since he and Baal were bound by blood. And yet the lord had shown no interest in Sabnock. If anything, he had detected a hint of disgust in Baal's voice when speaking of his nephew.

He dismissed the thoughts. It didn't matter to him. Sabnock had wandered into his trap during the flying test, and had done him the courtesy of being alone. He had been the perfect target. And Sabnock's wings and his tail were in Marius's arms as he stepped up to the wall and pulled a hammer from his belt.

He nailed the wings and tail into the wall and stepped back, making sure each piece was positioned correctly. Once he was satisfied, he had Alkan hand him a bucket of red paint and a brush.

"Aw, our little human is an artist," Kirio teased, still looking over the ramparts. Marius tried his best to keep his expression neutral. A part of him wanted to just shoot the boy and be done with it. He'd survive the fall. Why not?

It would be a breach of decorum. He was an Imperial Inquisitor of the Ordo Xenos. Controlling his temper was a necessary part of his job. And so he sighed, and looked up.

"I'm ensuring that this little display has the intended effect. So what if I want to add my own personal flair? Now be a good little demon and lower the barrier a bit for me." Kirio frowned, some strange emotion playing on his face before he complied.

Marius painted the symbol of the Ordo Xenos first, and then started on the inquisition's slogan. As he painted the first words, his thoughts drifted, and he realized what was so annoying to him about Kirio.

Kirio enjoyed cruelty for cruelties sake. If left alone, he would probably carry out a terrorist attack just because he could. It was anathema to the mission of the inquisition. The emperor's agents were cruel, yes, but that was a means to an end. Heresy had to be routed out at any cost. Each action they took pushed them closer to that goal. Still, Kirio was a good asset it seemed. Maybe he could find some way to keep him around. Maybe beat the useless sadist out of him. Or find a way to get it under control. Anything to keep that barrier magic on his side.

He finished the last letter and stepped back to admire his work. The paint dripped down the wall as it dried, making the letters look like they might simply slide off the wall. The paint was blood red, hopefully enough to be mistaken for blood at a distance. The words were written in gothic, to make whoever did this seem like a mysterious force of nature.

That was the excuse he gave to Baal at least. In reality, he wanted it to serve as a call to any other humans that might have been transported to this world. Either a call to arms, or a warning. A warning that, no matter what happened, no matter what world or dimension you were in, you had a duty to the emperor, and the inquisition would ensure it was done. Besides, the reveal of humanity's existence was being saved for later, when it could cause the most chaos.

"You finished up down there human. Suns starting to come up" Kirio called down in an exacerbated tone, like the boredom was eating him alive.

"Yeah yeah you impatient brat. Alkan, let's go."

The large demon grabbed Marius again, and they were off. Sure enough, the sun was just starting to crest the horizon. It caught the trees, and illuminated for a single moment a perfect world.

Marius breathed in the clean air, letting the wind wash over him as Alkan carried him back to Baal's headquarters. In that beautiful moment, he decided that this was a perfect world. Clean magic, clean air, and a species of Ab-humans prime for being brought into the fold. A paradise world cut off from the horrors of the Galaxy. It was in that perfect moment that he knew. He knew he would do whatever was necessary to bring imperial control to this place. This would be his stepping stone to a better imperium, and nothing would be allowed to stand in his way.

Kirio: Marius sat on a terrifying horse adorned with bones. The creature was massive, with claws on its hoofs and rippling muscles. It bucked and snorted occasionally, clearly angry. And yet it submitted to its rider. Marius had placed the skulls of three Border Control officers on the horse's neck, and a variety of other bones in the mane. Alkan sat on an identical horse next to Marius–minus the bones–holding a black banner that fluttered in the wind. The light caught on the golden symbol of the inquisition emblazoned on it. Kirio sat on the third and final horse. He had no flag, but he had armor like Alkan, a six fingered hand on its chest. Surrounding them were the six fingers, all with the same symbol on their chests. Behind them was the entirety of the Southern Demon Army, in battle formation, ready to take to the skies at Marius's orders.

In front of them was a rag tag line of defenses. There were some stakes at the bottom of a small rise. At the top of the rise was a long trenchline, bristling with activity. Banners flew in the wind, of all colors and all stripes. It was a sight to behold, but nothing to be afraid of, according to Marius.

It was noon when Marius ordered his first wave forward. They were to take control of the air and bombard the trenchline, letting the rest of the army advance unimpeded. Normally, more troops would be committed to the air battle, but with Marius and his marines in play, both sides were more invested in winning the ground battle than usual.

Across the trenchline, Border Control troops took to the air to meet their enemy, and mere moments later, the first demons were falling out of the air. The Battle of Belran had begun.

Rowan: Rowan took a deep breath. He pushed it out, and brought it back. His eyes were squeezed shut as he did this, pretending, for just a moment, he was somewhere else. Eventually though, he opened his eyes, and returned to reality.

The misfits had snuck up to the treeline to watch the battle unfold. They had wanted to see what was happening, and they had found a damn good view for it. From where they were, they could see both armies, and the entire field on which they were arrayed. The wind blew through the trees as they watched, a gentle breeze, one that felt wrong to Rowan. It felt too nice, like something you felt on a good day, when the enemy was nowhere to be seen, not when the enemy was right in front of you.

Before long, the first of Marius's troops took to the air, and Border Control's troops did the same. Rowan saw the man who had implored the students to join take to the air as well, Narnia he thought.

Moments later the demon flocks hit each other. The misfits could only watch in awe as flashes of magic burst in the air, and as bodies started to fall from the sky. Color filled the sky as the battle raged, a strange rainbow of death.

Before long, and to Rowan's surprise, the Border Control troops seemed to be winning. Some of the misfits cheered. Jazz and Lied were loudest among that group. They cried out in triumph as more Border Control troops flew up to join the push. It was a beautiful sight. Moments later, the enemy formation appeared to collapse. Many of the figures in the distance began to scatter and flee. Rowan felt himself begin to relax. Everything would be okay after-

The world tore apart.

Kirio: It was like nothing Kirio had ever experienced before. Lighting appeared in the sky, accompanied by a thunder the likes of which Kirio had never heard before. The sky lit up with a fury that could have brought the ruin of a thousand kings. It lasted for a brilliant few seconds, before disappearing. In its wake, burned corpses began to rain down in front of the army. Some broke apart on impact, others simply thudded to the ground. A silence fell over the battlefield.

It didn't last.

The demons who had been fleeing border control moments ago surged forward. Others flew into the air to join them. Dalquiel joined them, and as he did, Kirio saw the lighting in his armored hands, and the way his eyes were glowing blue behind their lenses.

Marius drew his sword and turned to his troops.

"Well then? Are you just going to stand there and let those flying brats claim all the glory? Forward! For the Emperor!"

Chapter Text

Kalego: Everything was falling apart. His brother was dead, along with his best troops. Panic was already clearly spreading through the ranks. Across the field, Kalego could do nothing as he saw Marius begin to move. An explosion went off next to him and he was on the ground before he knew it.

By the time he regained his senses, he looked up to see demons flying overhead, dropping satchels on the trenchline. Each one detonated with a terrible force, ripping into the unlucky souls who weren't able to get out of the way in time. Kalego managed to form a spike in his hand, stumbling to his feet and launching it into the closest attacker, who fell to the ground writhing in pain.

Suddenly, a shadow passed over him. When he looked up, one of Marius's angels, floating in the air, its entire armored form seemed to glow with power, a regal staff in one hand, lightning in the other. For a moment, it stared at Kalego with contempt, and then raised its staff to strike. Before it could, a fireball enveloped it.

Henri came swooping in, delivering blow after blow to the creature. While they didn't seem to damage it, it was pushed back. Henri delivered one final blow before ducking away, avoiding the angel's counterstrike.

"Get up Kalego. Our work isn't finished." Kalego obeyed, staggering to his feet to face the creature. The thing stared them down, its face unreadable beneath the helmet. The body language indicated no anger at being stopped. Just a cold, calculating stance as the thing considered how to kill them.

It lunged, moving faster than any creature should be able to in its armor. Lightning sprung from its fingers, bracketing the two demons as they formed shields. Henri and Kalego spread their wings, using them for a quick burst of speed. They dashed in opposite directions, away from the lightning, firing back at the thing with fireballs as they moved.

As the fireballs struck it, the creature let out a strange growl. The helmet made it sound like metal scraping on concrete. The lighting subsided for a moment, and then the thing made a sudden movement, launching a spike of lightning at Kalego. He tried to dodge, and managed to keep his body safe, but the bolt hit one of his wings. In an instant, the wing practically disintegrated, sending him tumbling to the ground

Searing pain raced through him. He wanted nothing more than to lay on the ground and sob, but the adrenaline in him got him on his feet. It was just in time to dodge the swipe of the angels staff. Before its next strike could land, Henri got in the way, catching the staff with his sword.

"I have met a human before. You are not one of them," Henri said, pushing the blade against the staff. "You are a creature, and it is my duty to see you rid from both our worlds." They separated, Henri hitting the angel with every ounce of fire he could muster. And then, over the din of battle, the thing began to laugh.

"You know nothing, xenos. I am above humanity, above mortality. I am Dalquiel, son of Gulliman, Librarian of the Blue Dragons, soldier of the Emperor. You are nothing but the dirt under my boot." He said, launching a counter attack as he finished. He closed the distance between him and Henri, using lighting to strike where the demon tried to go. In a series of blows, he knocked the demon to the ground, raising his staff above Henri. Henri only just managed to roll away from the killing blow, the staff sending jagged cracks through the ground as Dalquiel brought it down.

"You creatures bluster about strength, and yet you fail to demonstrate it," Dalquiel said, eying up Henri as both fighters regrouped. "You have lived your lives in a world free of chaos taint. You use magic freely, with no fear of corruption, and yet you are still weak!" there was an endless wrath in the angel's voice. A pure hatred that brooked no argument, no negotiation. Henri could do nothing but block and dodge the marines' blows, looking desperately for an opening.

"Marius deludes himself. There will be no coexistence between our species. There will be no attempt to make your species pure. There will be only extermination. Soon, humans alone will walk this world, and the Emperor's visage will be in every window of every house. Only then will this world be pure!" The angels' voices rose and fell, a choir of hate all on its own. Something in Henri's eyes appeared to snap, and suddenly, he lunged forward. The angel was caught off guard, seemingly having expected Henri to keep retreating. Still it blocked a strike and moved to attack again.

Kalego didn't let him.

Bolts of magic slammed into the marines' side. It spun, trying to stop the hail of fire, only to be hit by Henri. Slowly, they chipped away at the monster. Before long, one of the bolts found a weak spot in Dalquiel's armor. There was a small spurt of blood from his hip, and he stumbled. He did not cry out, did not show any panic but before long, he had dropped to one knee.

Dalquiel sent out an endless barrage of lightning. It was still an incredible display, but the atmosphere had shifted. The demons had become the hunters, slowly weakening their prey. The angel was living on borrowed time.

There was something primal welling up inside Kalego as he bombarded the angel. A sense of justice, and a hunger he could not describe. This thing had killed his brother, this thing had said that demons should be exterminated. This thing had called itself strong. And now look at him. Able to do nothing but hope that someone would save him.

A nearby explosion knocked Kalego out of his reverie. He glanced over at the battlefield, and saw a scene of horror. The line had completely collapsed. All across the field, Border Control units were retreating. Artillery pieces lay abandoned, with demons carrying the inquisitorial banner past them. Some units were holding, but they were being quickly enveloped. And in the center of it all, cutting through the last of Henri's troops, was Marius. Kirio flanked him, creating barriers for the human as they worked through the enemy. Somehow, more barriers were appearing across the battlefield. He shook his head. There was no time to think about where Kirio was getting all that power from. He intensified his barrage on Dalquiel. They had to kill him before Kirio could intervene. But even as he thought that, he saw Kirio looking at them. Henri saw it, Dalquiel saw it. All of them watched as Kirio raised his hand.

And then faltered.

Kirio's hand went to his head, he looked like he was about to scream. They all looked over to see the shell that covered the inquisitor's floating skull ever so slightly open. Dalquiel looked at Marius. Marius stared back at him. Kalego didn't know what the marine was thinking as the humans stared each other down. Perhaps it was shock, perhaps it was fear, or perhaps it was just the same hate he had shown to the demons, now directed at Marius.

Kalego didn't have to think about it for long, because a moment after, Henri's claws tore through the air, and the angel's head fell to the ground.

Kalego hardly had any time to process what had just happened when Marius turned his steed toward them. He attempted to form a fireball in his hands, something to at least throw at the human, before Henri placed a bloody hand on his shoulder.

"Go find your students and flee. I will hold Marius here," he said, a gentle tone to his voice. Kalego wanted to argue, to say that this was as much his fight as Henri's, but he knew the other demon was right. He was the guard dog of Babyls, and he had a duty that he could not afford to fail again. And so he ran, praying that his students would still be safe.

Rowan: "In life, war. In death, peace. In life, shame. In death, atonement. In life, war. In death, peace. In life, shame. In death, atonement. In life, war. In death, peace. In life, shame. In death, atonement. In life, war. In death peace. In life, shame. In death, atonement. In life, war. In death, peace. In life-" Rowan whispered the Krieg litany over and over again, trying to calm his nerves.

The Babyls students had gathered at the edge of the treeline. Jazz had run to warn them once the battle had turned for the worst. Now they were all watching as the front disintegrated by the second. All the artillery was silent at this point, having barely had the chance to fire a single shot. Most of the students clutched spears and swords tightly to their chests. One of them hled the purple banner they had brought with them. Those with strong familiars had summoned them to their sides. Asmodeus's familiar curled around his legs as they watched the enemy get ever closer. Suddenly, Kalego burst through the trees. His uniform was ragged, his face stained with dirt, and one of his shoulders bearing a large bloodstain that couldn't have been his. One of his wings was out, but it was a ragged mess.

"We need to go, now!" He barked, "The battle is lost, and I won't have any more of my students killed here." There was iron in his voice, but still some of the students complained. They were there to fight. They would not leave without trying.

Before either side could convince the other, demons wearing the uniform of the Belran police burst through the treeline. They were running for their lives, feet pounding on the forest floor. Overhead, figures could be seen flying past. Rowan couldn't tell if they were friend or foe.

"Run for it! He's right behind us! One of the officers shouted. No one needed to be told who he meant. Kalego stopped talking. Panic filled his face, having seemingly expected to have more time to get them out. He opened his mouth, and then closed it, looking over his students, before finally speaking.

"Form up! We make our stand here and now. If we can buy a few minutes, then we can retreat. We will stay no longer than necessary, understood?" Some of the students cheered. Most just nodded. The seriousness of the situation seemed to have fully dawned on them now, Rowan thought.

The students formed a line a bit further behind the treeline. The treeline was at the top of a small ridge, and they retreated to the bottom of that ridge. They gave up a bit of the high ground, but that made it so they couldn't be seen at all from outside the trees. It also would make it more difficult for the enemy to bombard them from above. It was all they could do to prepare. Rowan was next to Jazz and Lied. Asmodeus was at the other end of the line, standing next to Sabnock. Kalego was at the front, sword in hand, eyes peeled on the treeline

Rowan's mind was in a haze. He could hear the sounds of battle getting closer. The screams, the endless screams, explosions drowning them out, steel clashing against steel. The sound of bolters occasionally pierced the din, as well as the sound of a plasma gun. He slipped back into the Krieg war mantra, repeating it over and over again. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Lied and Jazz looking at him strangely. He didn't fully register it. And he didn't have time anyway. Because moments later, Marius crashed through the treeline, his horse trampling the brush. He was carrying Henri's head in one hand, his pistol in the other. Kirio and another massive demon followed him on their own horses.

Immediately, the students started firing any bolts of magic they could at the enemy. All of it was blocked by a quick barrier from Kirio, but for whatever reason, Marius's group stopped. He smirked down at them, the sun catching behind him, making it look like he had a halo, like a true angel of the Emperor. And he was about to fight him. He was about to betray his very existence.

Marius looked at Henri's head, and frowned.

"I've used this trick on you too many times," he sighed, tossing the head aside. "I'm glad you chose to fight. I was looking forward to killing you myself, Kalego. You're one of the only demons who have actually managed to put up a real fight." He said, drawing his sword. Rowan couldn't breathe. The inquisitor was radiant, a symbol of everything he had fought for before. The will of his god made manifest.

Marius stared down the students for a moment longer, just long enough for a few extra of his soldiers to arrive, before dismounting from his horse.

"Kirio, Alkan, feel free to enjoy this." Marius said, before lunging at Kalego. His soldiers followed, and the students desperately raised their weapons. Some of the enemy demons used magic to try and cut through the students, but those who did found themselves matched by the students, and the fight quickly devolved into a melee.

A large demon tried to bring his sword down on Rowan, but he was too sloppy. The swing was easier to read than he must have thought, because Rowan was able to simply slip out of the way and bury his own sword in the demon's throat. He ripped it out and pushed the body aside, feeling a splash of warm blood hit his hand as he did. Rowan looked around briefly, but when his eyes hit Marius, he turned away. So long as he focused on what was directly in front of him, he wouldn't have to think about who he was truly fighting.

His next opponent was just as clumsy as the last, but managed to push Rowan back slightly before he was able to kill them. Rowan found himself fighting next to Jazz. He was fighting recklessly, overextending himself with long thrusts of his spear, letting himself be exposed to counterstrikes. Rowan tried to move in closer and guard him, but ended up with a gash across his cheek as an enemy took advantage of the momentary weakness.

Despite that, the students held their ground, and Rowan heard a growl from the center of the fighting. Kalego was still fighting Marius, and the inquisitor had failed to break the teacher's guard. Marius's face flashed with annoyance, like he was trying to quash a bug that just wouldn't die. He made a motion with his free hand, and suddenly, his troops began to pull back, away from the students. No, away from him.

Time stood still for a moment. The students were trying to press the advantage, and in doing so, getting closer to Marius. Kalego was shouting something, and there was a flash of movement next to Rowan. Jazz lunged toward Marius, spreading his wings and pushing himself just barely into the air. He rocketed toward Marius, arms outstretched toward the container which held the blank servo skull. There was a look of euphoria on his face, as if he thought that, in getting there, he had already won. That he had saved them all from death.

Marius twisted and grabbed his leg. Jazz's face changed to one of confusion, and then fear, as Marius swung him around by his leg, and then slammed his head into a tree. There was a sickening crunch as a splotch of blood burst onto the bark. Jazz went limp as the shell over the servo skull retracted. Rowan couldn't look away from Jazz. His eyes remained frozen on the demon's body as Marius tossed it aside. He tried to will his body to move, but still found himself locked in place. And when he finally did manage to tear his eyes away from the body, he saw Marius, staring at him, wide eyed.

"You..." His sword dropped slightly, his eyes running over Rowan's body. "You're human."

Rowan wasn't breathing. He held his sword out in front of him. He didn't register Lied staring at him, or all the demons that were close to him, now incapacitated from the effect of the skull, their familiars gone. It was just him, and Marius. The inquisitor's eyes hardened.

"Who do you serve," he asked, the strangest hint of panic hidden beneath his words. After a moment of choking on his words, Rowan managed to speak.

"Th- The God-Emperor- My lord" The Marius's eyes softened ever so slightly.

"If that is the case, then why do you stand against me now?" He looked to the students all either trembling on the ground or dead. "Is it to protect them," He asked, looking back at Rowan. He didn't respond, didn't know how to respond.

"If that is the case, then you should lay down your sword. There is redemption for all those who were unaware of the Emperor's light. I bear them no ill will for standing against me. Should you surrender, I guarantee that they will survive this battle."

"I- I won't-"

"There is redemption for you as well. You are Krieg, if I'm not mistaken. Your whole existence is to redeem your world. You have strayed yes, but there is still time for your life to mean something. Now, lay down your sword." Marius's voice was like that of a father, consoling his son after he broke a dinner plate. Rowan stayed frozen for another moment, the sword shaking in his hands, a sense of wrongness flowing through the air. And then he dropped his sword, and fell to one knee.

"Good," Marius stepped over to him, looking down with a gentle smile on his face. "The Emperor welcomes you back to the fold, as he will welcome all those who wish to serve." Marius said the last part extra loudly, ensuring all the students who were still alive heard him.

"Stand up guardsman. I have a gift for you."

Rowan felt numb as he stood. He stared into Marius's eyes and blinked tears away, trying to look strong, trying to look like a proper soldier of Krieg again. Marius reached to his belt and pulled a laspistol from it. A golden skull adorned it, just above the laspack. It was an officer's weapon, not one for just any soldier.

"Those who have seen the other side and yet still return to the light are rare, and valuable. It takes courage to repent for one's sins, and those who have that strength must be valued." Marius placed a hand on Rowan's face, handing him the pistol. The cool black metal of the inquisitor's armor felt wrong on Rowan's skin as he took the gun. Marius patted Rowan on the head, before turning away.

"Take the rest of them prisoner. Alkan, gather any troops who have broken rank and take them to the city gates. I will meet you there once we have finished moping up here." A large demon nodded and burst into the air, disappearing above the trees. Rowan stared at the ground, doing everything in his power not to look at the students, and especially not Asmodeus. They would thank him, he reasoned. He had just saved their lives, they would understand that, right?

"Now the-" Marius turned just in time to see Sabnock rushing him. He barely managed to get his sword up in time to block the strike.

"Damn you! Damn you!" Sabnock shouted, pure rage writ large on his face as he strained through the effects of the servo skull to stay upright. It didn't matter. A moment later, Marius delivered a punch to his gut and sent him to the ground. Sabnock whimpered in pain as Marius put an armored foot on him.

"Three times I have offered you the chance to join me, To be a part of the future. To see the light. And three times you have denied that offer." Marius pressed his boot down. He looked to Rowan,

"I'm afraid this must be done. He has shown an inability to see what is right. And that cannot be tolerated." he said, and somehow, he truly sounded sorry. Rowan just stared at him, hand gripping his new pistol. In his mind he pretended that Sabnock was just another ork as he gently nodded his head. Marius smiled, and raised his sword, lining it up with Sabnock's neck.

Rowan didn't register what he was doing. He wasn't thinking as he brought the laspistol up, wasn't thinking as he pulled the trigger. It was like watching a film. Kirio tackled Marius as a laser tore through the air. The bolt grazed the jaw of the servo skull, and suddenly the wrongness that had clouded the air was gone.

"NO," Marius screamed, throwing Kirio off him. As he did, Kalego and the other students sent out a flurry of magic, and Rowan found himself shooting any enemy he could, pulling the trigger over and over again. Marius's troops were caught completely off guard. Kalego tore through them with a fury that could have rivaled any god, and when Kirio formed barriers to protect Marius, he found that fury turned on him.

Marius was on his feet, dirt covering part of his face. His eyes danced between the servo skull and the battle. Finally, he grit his teeth and His face was a mirror of Kalego's. He stepped forward, clearly prepared to fight to the bitter end.

"Sir please! The battle is won! We need to get out of here!" Kirio shouted, clearly straining from the effort of keeping his barriers up. The inquisitor growled, and, for a moment, looked as if he would ignore Kirio. But his eyes flashed up to the servo skull, and he grit his teeth.

"With me," he shouted, and the remnants of his troops followed him back up the ridge and out the treeline, Kirio forming barriers behind them as they retreated. And just like that, it was over.

Rowan felt a bit of euphoria in his chest. They had won. They had actually fucking won. Now all they had to do was–

Everyone was staring at him. Jazz's body laid in the corner of his vision. Rowan knew he was dead. His eyes were open, and his forehead–

He looked away.

Lied took a slow step forward, his mouth opening to speak. Rowan turned the laspistol on him.

"Stay back! I'll shoot," He barked, waving the pistol around, trying to cover as many students as he could, slowly stepping back as he did.

"Is it true? What he said? That you're... human," Lied said in a shaky voice. Rowan didn't respond. That was answer enough.

"Rowan, put down the gun," Asmodeus said, stepping toward him. "We won't harm you."

"Like I would believe that." Rowan sneered, pointing the barrel of the laspistol at Asmodues's head. "You gonna tell me all those songs and stories about eating humans were a lie now? Please." He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that Asmodeus was telling the truth, at least about himself. He had helped Rowan for months, kept his identity secret, practically saved his life. But Asmodeus was only two of the many eyes staring him down.

Rowan heard shouting behind him. The enemy would be back soon. Dammit, all he was doing was delaying them. But he couldn't go with them. And he most certainly couldn't go back to the inquisitor. So all he was doing was putting his friends at risk. But he needed to get away, needed them to run, to flee. And he was out of options.

...

It would be selfless, really.

He kept the gun moving across the line of students, slowly stepping away from them. Asmodeus kept pace, but it didn't matter. Rowan took a long breath letting the air fill his lungs.

And then raised the gun to his head.

Asmodeus: He lunged for Rowan, spreading his wings and launching his body forward. He slammed into Rowan knocking the gun out of his hand just as it went off. A crackling sound filled the air, and for a moment Asmodeus thought he had failed. Then Rowan began to struggle, shouting and biting at him as he tried to dislodge Asmodeus.

The other students rushed over and tried to help. Rowan had always been stronger than he looked though, and he broke a hand free, desperately reaching for the fallen pistol.

Asmodeus slammed his fist into the human's head.

Rowan fell limp, and Asmodeus felt a wave of relief crash into him. He felt another when he saw that Rowan was still breathing. Both disappeared as an explosion rocked the woods nearby. The students were clamoring all around him, panic gripping them like a vice. Then Kalego's voice cut through the air.

"Gather the bodies. We'll deal with this later. Now move!" The students snapped back to focus, and soon they were flying low through the woods, away from the fighting. Rowan was clutched in Asmodeus's arms as they made their escape, slipping away into the trees, past the city, and away from the battlefield.