FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

Surrounded by enemies and false friends. But accompanied by true ones.

Chapter 52 - Flying on the wings of tragedy

Killer's eyes blinked slowly open, the huge male still feeling lethargic as he arched his back with a murr and flexed under the sheets, his hand moving slowly over the mattress, searching for a warm, beautiful body that sadly wasn't there.

He clawed into the sheets, looking up in shock as he fully awakened... and as soon as he did, he realized and remembered everything. He was in Heaven. His personal Hell. And Alexis was thousands of miles away from him, an armada of nosy, arrogant Metatrons and legions of warriors making sure that they were kept separated. He looked down at his hand, feeling like he wanted to smash everything into bits, and needed to cry at the same time, before he rolled onto his back with a sigh, looking up at the ceiling covered in flowers without really seeing it.

"She is on your mind every single moment, isn't she...?" Gaia softly asked, smiling at him affectionately as she looked up from the book in her hands, allowing the large tome to close as she put it down in her lap. Killer turned to the side with a quiet smile, looking at her quietly, before he simply nodded, bringing a hand up to rub at his eyes.

"She is... and even after all these centuries, I seek the warmth of her body against mine, every time." He paused, sitting up in the bed and poking curiously at a small, transparent tube sticking out of his huge, muscular arm, looking up to see the bag hanging from a green branch covered in buds which stuck out of the wall.

"We took the freedom of aiding your recovery a little, by draining out the last of Unworld infection and putting into your body an invigorating composite of Ambrosia and pure energy: your body reacted magnificently." Gaia explained quietly, and Killer nodded, before making a grimace as he murmured: "I must have been in an even worse shape than I thought. I don't even remember any of it. Thank you, though... now I feel much, much better. How long did I sleep?"

"Just about six hours." Gaia replied easily, looking at him softly as he removed the syringe and then flexed his enormous bicep lightly, looking at his arm and then at his chest, to see that almost all of his ugly wounds had already entirely healed, many no longer visible at all and others soon to become invisible as well as his body quickly repaired itself. "Indeed, you should take more time to rest... you've recovered incredibly fast, but you should be careful. Unworld poisoning normally takes weeks in order to be overcome."

"Especially if accompanied by wounds as nasty as mine were, I bet." Killer added amusedly, smiling at her in playful reproach, as she very clearly restrained from even hinting to the battle in which he had been, very simply, kicked around like a football. "I appreciate your care, Gaia, but it is not necessary to censure what's happened. I hate it, but I'm not quite arrogant enough to ignore what's happened and tell myself that it was just a bad dream. I've got quite some distance to go."

"Or you are just too ambitious." The goddess replied quietly, shaking her head slowly and smiling lovingly, before putting her hand on his own much larger one. "It depends on how you approach the issue: considering that Typhon has been a full-fledged god for billions of years and you still aren't to this day, with all those Seals left to break, you've fared magnificently. I'd like to set the record straight, Lord Killer: Typhon is no common day rival... you don't have anything to bash yourself about."

"Well, you are much stronger than even him, though. And that's a good thing, because you've probably saved my life today." Killer commented with a smile, and Gaia blushed a bit as she looked down, rubbing a hand over the leather cover of the huge book, without finding the words to reply anything.

Killer looked at this briefly, smiling slightly, loving the shy and yet courageous nature of the one who very possibly was the most powerful of the Seven gods. He closed his eyes with a little snort of amusement, but he soon sulked again as his head dropped forwards tiredly and he looked down at his hands with worry, his eyes seeming to stare at his own fingers as if fearing to see them go mad and homicidal at any moment, as countless thoughts raced messily in his mind, none of them pleasant.

Gaia did not miss the sudden silence, his sudden stiffness and the change of energies in the air, immediately looking back up from the book and studying him quietly for a moment before asking gently: "It is your inner darkness that worries you, is it not...? Your... Black Killer companion."

Killer turned to look at her with surprise, but any shock was already gone when his eyes met hers: Gaia was incredibly devoted, and very, very sensitive. Of course she knew about Black Killer, and of course she could read into the messy, raging ocean of his worries and doubts and fears.

"Yes. It's Black Killer that worries me." Killer admitted in the end, sighing and scratching at his head irritably, looking frustrated. "For much less than the danger Typhon represents, Black Killer's popped up and showed to me power, opening up the doors for some of my strength to rage freely. He's shown me what's inside me... And it is an immense, terrifying power the one that I saw." He paused, making a grimace as he remembered the immense, planet-dwarfing chained-up monster that he had visited, in the depths of his own soul and mind, already more than once.

"We know." Gaia agreed, nodding quietly as she put her book down and rested her hand on his muscular thigh instead. "An immeasurable, incredible power indeed... one such force that we do not know its limits. If there even are any."

"Yeah... so much power, and a monster so eager to use it all." Killer bitterly muttered, wondering with horror on the question of who the real monster was. Black Killer was really the 'evil' part of him...? Did he even exist for real...? Or it was all a justification he tried to give himself, shifting the blame on someone else entirely? It is so easy to say 'it's his fault!', after all. "And yet, uniquely, even as Typhon nearly killed me, even as Unworld essence gorged itself on my vital energies, Black Killer did not say a word and did not do a thing this time around. And I just can't help but wonder why. Why would he run such a risk?"

Gaia had no answer, and she only looked at him with sympathy in her eyes, smiling ever so slightly, in sad apology, as she slowly stroked her hand on his muscular, powerful thigh... before she dropped her head forwards a bit, looking thoughtful for a few long moments.

"I've had the luck of knowing you for quite some time by now, Killer..." The goddess finally said, looking up at him with affection, smiling in amusement as she added: "And this time together has taught me much about who you are. You are proud, dominant, and assertive: you do not take well being second to someone, in any field, but particularly not in some special ones. And I know that you want, absolutely want to reverse today's events, and make Typhon cower at the sight of your power."

Killer closed his eyes for a moment, then turned slowly towards her and gazed in her beautiful, soulful eyes with love and entertainment before nodding seriously, saying calmly: "It is true, obviously... and yes, you've understood what my gut feeling is, Gaia." The huge male paused, looking straight ahead of himself, coldly, as his mighty musculature flexed a bit and one hand clenched in a tight, enormous fist. "Black Killer is smart and manipulative, and he knows well both that I won't ever listen or follow an order, and that he can nonetheless nudge me to go in the direction he wants... If he teaches me something, if he makes me access to more power himself, he knows I will hesitate, be suspicious and he knows I will pull back my punches, all the time. I will always hold back, because I fear his... my own... hungers. But he knows all too well that if he gets me an enemy, or even just a rival, strong enough to make me feel inferior and questioned, I will do all it takes to stay on top of the pile, and indeed look down at the dogs from somewhere high up above."

"He must be really amused now... His plan worked perfectly. Typhon kicked my ass today... and now I'm hell-bent on humiliating Typhon, overcoming his power in every aspect, and making him cower in the corner like a sobbing child. And to do so, I will train as hard as I can, and my punches won't be pulled back anymore... Exactly what he wants." Killer laughed bitterly, then shook his head with a grim smile as he muttered: "And even if I know it, I can't really help myself. My stupid pride won't let me do anything less than seeking triumph. So that's who actually won the day: not me, not Typhon, not even you. But Black Killer."

"It might mean doing what he wants, Lord Killer, but it also means doing what we need you to do, Killer, as you are our Savior and Master: we need you to find peace and salvation, and you will need all of your strength to triumph against the terrible forces that are ripping the Worlds apart even now as we speak." The snow leopardess said, leaning closer to him and cupping his cheek in a hand as she gazed into his eyes quietly and then kissed his lips chastely. "I know you fear your own power and abilities... that you worry about using them in the wrong way. But I have, we have, total confidence in you and in your determination and will to do the right thing. We all trust in you."

"I know... and it reassures and scares me at the same time." Killer replied after a moment, smiling to her affectionately and hugging her shoulders with his strong, huge arm. "It makes me so happy to have you on my side. It honors me, and it relieves me, that you do see so much good in me... But truth be told, Gaia, I'm bloodthirsty. Merciless. And power-hungry. Terribly, endlessly power-hungry. I hold back all the time with some supreme effort of self control, but the reality is only one: I crave power. I always need more, and more and more. The stronger I get, the stronger I want to become: it is never enough. I'd gladly do the most tremendous of things to get more power, or even just to show just what I'm capable of... and this is going to end in some horrible, horrible way one day."

"But you do pull back your punches. You walk among mortals and immortals who are as powerless as dust around you, and you behave kindly, respectfully and take every precaution in order to look as normal as possible to them. You worry for what you can do, and you fear the prospect of gaining even greater power, keeping away from it, hesitating prudently on the threshold... This is not how a monster behaves, Lord Killer." Gaia replied warmly, pushing her head gently against his chest for a long moment as she hugged him around the waist, the huge male letting out a breath of soft pleasure at the unique feeling of her floating, flowing water-like hair against his body. "You've long ago now made your choice, Killer. You decided to be powerful, but modest. Mighty but kind. You accepted that all life has its unique dignity, and to this day you put no real difference between god and man, mortal and immortal... while even angels, who should be so good and pure, often show none of that respect. You've made your choice, Master, and not even Black Killer will be able to change who you are, unless you decide to change yourself."

"Thank you, Gaia..." Killer softly murmured, smiling lovingly down at the lithe leopardess as he wrapped his huge, strong arms around her shoulders, hugging her forwards against his masculine chest for a few long moments, rocking her gently from side to side as one of her hands caressed slowly up and down his spine. "It is thanks to my beloved daughter Mriya, and thanks to Alexis, and to my son Anubis, and you, and Ira, and so many others, that I keep faith to that decision I took so long ago... You are my reasons. My supports and my cardinal points."

"And you are our Master, Protector, Lover, Father and god. We shall follow you everywhere, in any world, in any time, in any decision, without any hesitation." The snow leopardess whispered, kissing his bare, powerful chest lovingly as she leaned her cheek against the solid, strong muscle, before she quietly straightened in her seat as Killer kissed her hair and then slowly let her slip out of his arms, smiling at her with affection.

She smiled back warmly, eyes gleaming cheerfully as she gazed at him adoringly, and then the huge male turned to stand up from the bed, dropping his feet onto the floor and sitting up on the edge of the bed, stopping only as he saw a cup of Gaia's special, delicious tea already on the bedside table, still hot and giving its delicious perfume off.

On a chair nearby, orderly folded, were his black jeans, and he spotted also a simple folder of leather bulging with sheets of paper that he knew very well, put down carefully onto the plushy pillow of the seat.

"You treat me too well, Gaia." The huge male said quietly, picking up the cup of tea as he sat on the edge of the bed, wearing only his boxers as he sipped at the tasty, warm liquid and reached forwards with his other hand, picking up the folder and holding it up. "Did you read them...?"

Gaia looked up with a gulp at this, blushing deep red and rubbing her hands together embarrassedly as she bowed her head forwards. "Yes, Lord Killer. I really should have asked before, but... I saw them on your desk, and I couldn't help the curiosity. Sorry, I'm being nosy and rude."

"Don't worry, I don't mind... and you never, never could be described as rude." Killer said gently, shaking his head slowly and looking amused as he smiled to himself, putting the folder down on his knee and opening it with his free hand, absently gazing down at the many sheets of verses, thoughts, and awkward attempts of poetry that he had put together in the by now centuries spent in Heaven.

"We'll content ourselves with nosy, then." Gaia observed, laughing softly before nodding wisely, adding seriously: "Because this time I sure have been. But, Lord Killer, they are very beautiful thoughts... and there is no girl in the world who wouldn't love being the subject of such adoration."

"Bah. They are all pathetic. Poetry just isn't my thing... I can barely write in prose, and there's no power in the universe godlike enough to make of me a poet." Killer countered, shaking his head slowly as he read the first few verses of a poem he had tried writing for Alexis before abandoning it, frustrated and horrified by the banality and weakness of what he had been able to put together. "I have the best subject in the universe to talk about... there's endless praise she deserves, and so much to tell about her, and about what I feel for her... and yet, I can't find the words, nor the way to put them together to voice what I feel. Can't even come up with anything smarter than comparing her hair to gold, or to the Sun. Pretty sad, really."

He closed the folder, throwing it onto the chair again as he finished drinking his tea and stood up, putting the cup down to step into his jeans with a grunt. He absently wished to look at his back to see how he was healing, and a large mirror appeared out of thin air, floating behind him and making him wince in surprise, before he made a face and snorted contemptuously at his own stupidity, remembering all the powers he was supposed to have.

He straightened and looked back over his shoulder, flexing lightly and gazing into the mirror to see with relief that his back was essentially healed: his spine and organs no longer visible, the thick, powerful musculature back in place and as imposing as ever, and the wounds gone but for thick, gross crisscrossing scars that were slowly re-absorbing themselves, vanishing from sight.

Gaia looked at him with amusement, smiling gently and not at all agreeing on his assessment of his poetry. Yeah, sure. It wasn't much and it wasn't what you'd call literature. But reading his verses, thoughts, reflections, attempts, countless of them, she had been able to fully see the absolute depth of Killer and Alexis's love. His adoration for her was total... And Gaia could honestly say that she would have absolutely loved to be the addressee of his poetry.

Killer pulled his pants up, grunting as he struggled to fit the enormous bulge in his boxers into the crotch of his jeans, the shape of his huge flaccid shaft well visible as it slid down a leg like a large snake, stretching the underwear dangerously. And then, as he straightened, he glanced absently at the floating mirror and made it vanish, before saying calmly: "I think I've spent enough of my leave sleeping. Manticora should be debriefing her troops by now, so I think I'm going to go there and listen. And be useful, if possible. Then I'd love to go to the Meadows, and meet William, if he's around."

"I won't restrain you, master." Gaia replied softly, standing up from the chair and putting her book down into it before she walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his chest, hugging him tightly. "Just be careful, and do not hesitate to call me if you need anything at all. I'll be here. Just a thought will be enough: think of me, and I'll reach you, whenever you are."

"Thank you, Gaia." Killer said, wrapping his strong arms around her waist and hugging her into his powerful chest as he kissed her lips gently, pushing his muzzle against hers and quietly drinking in her delicate perfume of sea, mountains, flowers and fresh grass.

He let go of her after a few long moments, and she gazed at him lovingly until he winked at her and turned away with a last wave, walking out in the main room of his small house and then pushing open the simple wooden door, stepping out in the yard of the fortress, the sun of the afternoon still warming his skin as he walked towards the barracks of the Seraphims, walking under the huge archway leading into the hall: he pushed the enormous double door open, and walked to the left, into the Seraphim's bar. Under a roof made of arches sustained by a forest of slender columns of marble, was a rest area with a few armchairs and two long sofas, placed one in front of the other. A bar bench of massive wood with a dozen tall stools and a massive display of bottles of liquors filled the wall opposite, and as he stepped in, a couple of Seraphims sitting at the bench gazed over their shoulders and, recognized him, smiled and raised their glasses high into the air. "Lord Killer, welcome!"

"Thanks." Killer answered, holding up a hand to them in salute even as he winced a bit inwardly, feeling ashamed of the fact that he hadn't yet been on the battlefield once since he was in Heaven, while the Seraphims, faithful to their motto, were constantly in the cauldron, only managing to get a day or so between a fight and another as they rotated in and out of action in companies of around one hundred each.

He walked past the entrance to the bar and reached the start of a huge ramp of stairs of marble, which leaded to a landing in front of massive oak double doors. Further ramps of stairs went to the left and to the right, leading to the Seraphims' rooms, but he walked towards the oak door, reaching for the handle with a hand and hesitating for a moment as he heard the voices inside, recognizing Manticora as she explained something about the battle... before he winced as a voice came from inside and called: "Lord Killer, please come in."

"Your powers are unfair. I can never hide from you." Killer muttered as he quietly pushed the door open, trying to make the least amount of noise possible as he slipped inside and immediately pushed the gate closed behind his back, looking over the long, immense table ahead. On both sides of it, at least sixty seats were orderly lined, all of those currently occupied by Seraphims in armor, their helms resting on the table, and all of the mighty, beautiful females pounded their fists on the table in welcome, turning to him with smiles of welcome as a loud rumble of thunder went up from their blows, before all bowed their heads forwards.

The head of the table, on the opposite side of the room to Killer, was occupied by Vesta and Ira, sitting side to side in twin larger, throne-like chairs, with a third one, empty, between them. Manticora was in the first seat on the right of Vesta, but she was standing, no doubt having been explaining the events until Killer arrived, while light came in from an enormous, tall and beautiful arched window behind the queen's and Ira's shoulders, which gave a breathtaking sight of the sapphire sky, the clouds forming a white, vaporous carpet below, with a few of the highest mountains of black lodestone pocking their tips out.

None was as high as the Monolith, however, and Killer stared for a moment at the wonderful sights of the clouds massed up below the level of the fortress: even after all the time he had spent here, it still amazed him every time.

Both females smiled at him in welcome, and Vesta put a hand gently down into the empty seat to invite him in even as she amusedly observed: "This has very little to do with my sharp senses and powers, Master, and much to do with your magnetism. All of a sudden, we all were strangely urged to look insistently at the closed door, and that was a telling signal."

Killer grinned stupidly at that, looking embarrassed even as he walked onwards with a nod of respect towards the assembled Seraphims at the table, suddenly regretting not putting up a shirt before coming here. He felt tens of eyes locking over his huge, powerful musculature and on the ugly scars still very visible on his back, before he finally pulled the free seat back and sat quietly down in it, leaning into the chair and relieved by the fact that it hid from sight his devastated back.

"Sorry, I didn't want to be such an interruption." The huge male said, shifting a bit in his seat and looking at the massive, incredibly-detailed model that someone had shaped in ice on the table: it was a tridimensional reproduction of the battlefield, Killer guessed: an area of low, modest hills covered in thriving vegetation, with a single, simple road crossing from east to west and passing by a small village built on the top of a ridge. There were just perhaps thirty houses and buildings, all facing on the single road and all built on top of the small hill, which dominated the others all around for several miles. The village was surrounded by thick, enormous walls and fortified bastions made of ice, and in the small town and on the walls an army of tiny demon figures could be seen.

To the south of the village, a series of small flags signaled the position of the angel divisions of Heaven's army, while small, hyper-detailed figures showed a company worth of Seraphims approaching the village from the forest covering the hill, with a perfectly-recognizable Manticora leading the main tactical column and the rest of the Seraphims advancing in two diagonal lines forming an arrow: the warriors in the lines were spaced so to form a wide front, forming a ring of security, distant enough from one another to avoid being all hit by the same eventual contact with the enemy, but close enough to quickly come to each other's aid.

"We hoped you would come, Lord Killer, and we left a seat ready for you. It's no interruption, it's a welcome development." Manticora said gently, smiling at him from where she was standing, and Killer looked at her with a silent thank you in his eyes, before bowing his head modestly as several Seraphims around the table nodded in agreement with their leader's words.

"Lord Killer can be of help to all of us. As you know, he's helped me and Ira put together the reconnaissance and observation teams concept, that soon will be ready, and that, we hope, will help remedy to the problems we constantly have with the information we are given." Vesta announced, tapping a finger quietly onto the table top, and all Seraphims looked at their queen with attention. "Reliable information is a game-changing factor, so it is of vital importance to learn the lesson and ensure that we never again step on the field with an incomplete situational awareness."

"Which is what we lacked in our case." Manticora intervened, nodding slightly before pointing a finger towards the model, and the tiny Seraphims made of ice began to move carefully forwards through the forest. "The officers of the army grossly overestimated the damage they had caused to the demons in the area. According to their reports, they had forced the enemy back into the village and thinned their ranks enough that a swift, vicious attack would suffice to rout them for good."

"We moved in rapidly. I normally like to take a personal look at the area and at the enemy disposition, but for what we knew, the right moment for striking was there, and we had to be fast." Manticora paused, looking thoughtful for a moment before she moved her finger through the air and a battalion of tiny angels of ice moved onwards, behind the Seraphims and at a safe distance. "The idea was that we would attack, mark the enemy and destroy it, while the angels of the army would move behind us at a distance to siege the village and block all possible retreat paths. The Metatrons timely imposed over the whole area a Portal-inhibiting charge of Purity, as soon as we arrived. From that moment, portaling in and out of the region became impossible. The concentrated purity in the air would also effect the modified mortal electronics Hell's forces have started to regularly use. Demons themselves would be hampered by the Purity in the air, and weakened."

"I've had a talk with Lord Killer about the mortal technology that Hell is throwing at us more and more frequently."Ira intervened calmly, leaning on crossed arms on the table and looking to the huge male with a soft smile before continuing: "The suspicion is that it comes from the RA, the mysterious organization that he's been facing on the Mortal Plane. The RA has been throwing demons around the Mortal world, as we know, and they have put up a 'fog of war' made of Hell's Corruption to mask whole regions of the world from Killer's satellites and sensors. The result is that we know little to nothing about the RA's bases, effective strength and plans."

Killer nodded, and the Seraphims turned to him with curiosity as he explained: "So far, all attempts to see past the fog of war have failed. But with Vesta and Adrasthea, we've put together a plan for joining forces: my mortal technology cannot see past the fog of war, but Heaven's powerful magic and Observatories might be able to spot something interesting."

"There are high chances of detecting the opening of portals or cracks between the Mortal Plane and Hell, even through the fog of war." Vesta specified, resting back in her seat and crossing her powerful arms on her chest. "This should allow us to locate the next big expedition of mortal artifacts down into Hell..."

"... and as soon as I have the location, I'll attack it and put a stop to the transfer." Killer said firmly, completing the phrase as Vesta nodded with a grin, before a beautiful cougar female with long black hair, sitting far down the table, held up a hand, and the queen gestured for her to go ahead with her question.

"The Purity of Heaven is a curse for all mortal electronics. No mortal electronic device normally works in Heaven... and Heaven's Corruption is just as devastating. Yet they have found a way around the problem, and created hybrid demonic-technological monstrosities, from assault tanks to robotic constructs to terribly effective firearms. Why we can't exploit Mortal tech as well? I'm sure there's excellent material we could use and adapt to our needs."

"Oh, there is, definitely." Vesta answered, closing her eyes for a moment as she gave a slow, solemn nod, before she leaned her muzzle onto her hand, resting her elbow on the table and looking moodily over the assembled company as she added: "I can also insulate and protect mortal electronics from the effects of Purity and Corruption myself... it is not at all as complex as we have been told for centuries. Killer offered to provide us with some of his very neat stuff, too, and it would be beneficial to the both of us if we worked together on new systems and weapons and sensors."

"The problem is that the Council still does not even want to hear about it." Ira muttered, making a grimace and looking down at the table for a moment, before she looked up firmly, gazing into the eyes of each Seraphim around the table, getting back expressions just as determined - and frustrated - as hers. "Importing any kind of mortal product into Heaven still is a crime. The Council does not get it. In their arrogance and in their absolute lack of flexibility and adaptability in thought and planning, they are doing all they can to prevent us from winning the war. As you all know, they even keep Lord Killer locked her in Eaglenest, against his wishes. And as you all know, today they came to punish him..." The cobra paused for a long moment, looking in the interested eyes that stared at her from all corners of the table, as several Seraphims whispered and murmured about what had happened, the most informed telling the story to the ones who still did not know, before Ira completed icily: "... with a dozen dozens of slashes with a whip made of Unworld essence."

A snarl of rage and shock and horror went through the assembled Seraphims, hands all around the table clenching into fists as many heads turned towards Killer to look at him with awe and even greater admiration and adoration, as a slender black pantheress stood up angrily from her chair and slammed a hand into the table, growling: "What was the justification for that?"

There were many roars of approval for her question, even as a muscular husky female looked at Killer in amazement and exclaimed: "Already shaken off even a dose like that of Unworld contamination...? Holy heavens, Lord Killer, you are... invincible!"

"Calm down everyone." Ira ordered, slamming her hand once on the table and glaring at the assembly for a moment, before her expression softened as the Seraphims fell silent, and those who had jumped up to their feet sat down in their seats again. The cobra couldn't help but smile softly to herself, gazing sideways to Killer with affection: things had changed immensely from when he had arrived. Before, the Seraphims hadn't been so united, and for Ira in particular, things had been less than pleasant: she was a demoness, she was incredibly strong, she successfully striven for excellence and made it incredibly quickly into the second highest rank in whole Seraphim armada, and she was a severe, demanding commander; a bad combination that had gained her essentially only grudges, envy and hostility.

But today, largely thanks to Killer, the Seraphims looked at Ira with no prejudice, and their respect for her had grown massively. With every day that passed, the Seraphims were learning to appreciate their commander, who was severe but fair, powerful and yet respectful, demanding but never evil. Ira was, indeed, being accepted into the community. She was making friends, she was no longer avoided, and she was now welcomed warmly down at the bar.

Killer had told to everyone who would listen that he had nothing but the utmost respect for his mentor, and thanks to his words and stories and explanations, more and more people was starting to look at the Ira person and not at the warped image that the Righteous and the Council painted of her.

Manticora herself, for example, once had used to respect Ira for her power and experience and competence, but had nonetheless avoided the cobra and spent the least possible time around her... but ever since Killer had forced Manticora to meet Ira one afternoon, and to actually spend some time with her, the two had become real friends. And the zebra had apologized to Ira for her myopia.

"I acted just like that asshole of my father." Manticora had said, referring to the way Typhon arrogantly looked down at everything that was not Heaven-grown, absolutely convinced of the fact that mortals were junk and demons were nothing but monsters and abominations.

Last but not least, Killer had unified the Seraphims around a true, pulsing core: he had always been popular among the mighty female warriors of Heaven, and his arrival had revitalized the whole army. He was their Master, their Savior and God. All the Seraphims were ready to give their lives for him, and Killer was the point of contact, the one thing that they all shared and treasured.

And of course, he also was their shared, common sexual dream, in most if not all cases. That was an important factor as well.

"Firstly, yes, Lord Killer was whipped with an Unworld whip and then he fought Typhon. Punched him in the face, indeed. And now he's already back on his feet and here among us." Ira explained, holding up a finger and grinning widely, as the Seraphims around the table smiled and looked at Killer with adoration, even as the male coughed and held up a hand pointedly, clarifying honestly: "I took far more blows than I gave him, honestly. Nothing to be proud of."

Even his words didn't really change the way the Seraphims looked at him, though, their eyes lingering over his powerful body and looking over the few wounds and scars still visible, as they healed literally under their gaze.

"Our Master's modesty is always amazing." Vesta commented airily, shaking her hand dismissively as she grinned and wrapped a strong arm around his shoulders, squeezing him against her side as she announced: "Typhon, Michael and Anahel and twenty Paladins came here to punish Lord Killer for the damage he's caused to the Sun Desert while training. He's stepped up to the whip and took the blows without a single whine, causing Michael to go haywire with frustration."

"The loser." Manticora commented, grinning widely and nodding slightly.

"Then, when Typhon announced that Ira and I would be whipped as well, he stood up, faced Typhon, and fought him back to protect us." Vesta continued, before the Seraphims erupted in another collective roar of rage and outrage, as some of them shouted about the foolishness of interfering with Killer's training in such a stupid way, others snarling about the unacceptable, absurd idea of punishing the queen of Seraphims herself, others loudly calling for a swift, vicious revenge.

"Calm down, my sisters." Vesta commanded, quietly but firmly, and it was enough to bring back an expectant silence over the room as all the female warriors looked to her for orders. "Lord Killer rebelled against Typhon and the Council, beat down Michael into a pulp once more, and best of all, threw him my way and Ira's way. So that he ended up beaten like a carpet."

There were grins of delight and laughter around the table at this, and Killer smiled gently back to the tens of angels looking at him with adoration, before Ira cleared her throat and said calmly: "As pleasant as that was, we are all in danger and in trouble. The hostility of Michael and Typhon means that the Council as a whole is now an enemy for us all. We can expect all sorts of punishments and special laws to be applied to us, so it is not going to be an easy period to face. There's no telling what they'll throw our way: for what we know of them, they could all but send an army of Paladins here to attack Eaglenest, just to avenge their hurt pride."

"In the case, we will fight them off." Manticora promised, and the Seraphims around the table nodded grimly, most of them looking all but eager, grinning gamely as a few hands stroked slowly down the helms resting on the tabletop.

Vesta nodded in agreement, but she leaned forwards a bit as she pushed her hands over the table, shoving her own golden helm forwards and looking over all of her sisters in arms, her expression deadly serious, her sapphire eyes cold and focused: "We certainly will. But we must be all well aware of what that means: we will be at war with Heaven at that point. We, Guardians of God's Creation, will be at war with His Heaven. It will be the most dramatic and unthinkable event in the history of Creation... and we will have to be ready and determined, if it comes to such a shove. Let me be absolutely clear, sisters: the Council will attack our houses, our lands, our families, even. They will freeze our funds, bring all the money away from us. They will try and raid the monasteries, and we will all be sentenced to death. There won't be forgiveness... Not until God comes back to fix things up, or we destroy the Heavenly Council."

There was a moment of heavy, burdensome silence, a nervous tremble going over the assembly as the Seraphims thought of all the risks, looking at each other nervously, until a tigress down the table nodded firmly and coldly observed: "This Council has long lost any morale. It has long ceased to share anything with God's words and belief. We serve Elelyon, not the Council, and I'm sure that, was He here, God would be horrified by what the Council has become. We should have probably intervened already many years ago: the time that passes is not fixing anything, it is only making things worse. It's a worse betrayal to keep serving this Council than it is a betrayal to strike it down."

"It's true. There is no stepping back. We've looked the other way for too long... now, with Lord Killer's help, we will restore Heaven to its old Rules. No matter the cost." Another Seraphim added, and there were nods and words of agreement all around the table, even as Killer shifted uncomfortably in his seat, feeling responsible for the disaster that was taking shape in front of his eyes.

"We have a first line of defence, which will buy us time." Ira announced, and all eyes turned to her as she explained: "You all know that Adrasthea and Gaia have been here with Lord Killer all this time. Both goddesses stepped in on Typhon's path this morning and chased him away. Gaia is still here in the fortress, while Adrasthea left to talk with Alcana and the other gods. The Council of the 7 Gods will oppose any attempt of the Heavenly Council to damage us."

"Gaia, Adrasthea and Lemuel are all people we can count on. We will have their support and votes, all along. To them, we will add Alcana, who will support us to obey to Killer's wishes." Vesta added calmly, even as Killer winced inwardly and thought bitterly of the possibility of having Alcana blackmail him: her vote in exchange for his services and servitude to her. Such a scenario would have put him in a real Hell, torn between his personal good and that of the Seraphims that so proudly and loyally supported him.

"Alcana is not reliable. Her adoration for Lord Killer is possessive and greedy: she wants him all for herself, and she's voted against his interests more than once in the past, just to ensure that her access to him wasn't diminished." A Seraphim bitterly observed. "It's because of her that Lady Alexis is in the Monastery of the Moon, at the other end of Heaven. And because of her that Lord Killer is still under strict orders of not taking any Disciple for himself. Her vote made the difference."

"This time the stakes are just too high. Alcana is not stupid, nor cruel. She loves Lord Killer as much as any of us at this table... and she won't dare going against his wishes this time." Ira countered, shaking her head slowly but firmly, before Killer straightened in the seat and announced:

"I will talk to her personally, as soon as possible. I'll make sure she understands just how high the risks are... and I won't let her play, this time around."

"Even so, the risk is that we only buy time. And perhaps not even much of it. And the Council could still send assassins under cover, without going through the paperwork and hot-air talk. Amazing as it is, even they can be very fast and very decisive in their actions when they actually want to be. So we are not safe. Who's got a family outside the fortress, should quietly but decisively act to bring it to safety. Send your loved ones in hiding, get your money out of the banks, and prepare for the worst. Be prepared, and trust no one. From now on, the safest course of action is to consider Heaven's forces potentially just as hostile as Hell's own." Vesta wisely said, looking thoughtful for a few moments before adding: "There's no way to hide the preparations effectively, unfortunately. The Council will inexorably be informed of our movements in any case, so there's no reason to go at it slowly and gradually: get your families to safety as soon as possible, and save what you can of your possessions and belongings. I'll reserve a few of the Deep Chambers at the Monastery of the Sun for storing your money and whatever you'll want to bring out of your houses. There's no safer place in all of Heaven. And keep in mind two things: money will be useful to survive the times ahead, and all what you can't bring to safety in time will be seized by the Council. And used against us, in a way or another."

"We'll be arranging to create a Quick Reaction Force in each of the three monasteries. All of us will be posted to them in rotation, and the QRFs will be kept on extremely high readiness, on call to intervene immediately if an attack is launched on any of us." Ira announced, and all Seraphims nodded in silent agreement even as the cobra added: "Unfortunately, as things develop, for us it will be business as usual: we will continue to fight back Hell's forces, and we will be constantly on call, as always, despite the new situation. So we will only be able to post to the QRFs the ones who should be on leave after a tour out on the battlefield. We'll be busier than ever."

"We are not completely alone, though." Killer intervened, remembering the talk he had had with Swan on the ship that had brought him and Alexis into Heaven that night of so many years before. "There are many of my old soldiers and comrades in the divisions of angels. There should be many of them, and all will be willing and ready to help. It is imperative that I talk to William, already today, to warn him of what's to come, and make sure that he's ready and in contact with everyone."

"I'll bring you to the Hall of Heroes, and we'll talk to him." Manticora promised, the zebra female nodding and squeezing Killer's shoulder gently with a strong hand, the huge male eager to meet his long lost friend and mentor, the one who had taught him so much when he was a kid, and the one who had sacrificed his life to save Killer's own. He had been hoping for such a meeting ever since he had entered Heaven... and for much longer a time he had hoped, dreamed of such a chance to see his mentor again.

"Be careful, the Metatrons will have a special eye for all of us from now on, we can bet. We will always be watched... and it's not like William's ties to you, his loyalty and friendship to you, are unknown to the Council either. We are walking on eggshells... the control that the Council has over Heaven is nearly total and absolute. And they are already acting: my protective barrier is gone, they have removed that privilege from me. And Ira is also no longer given any protection either. We are at war; undeclared, but already fought. Always keep it in mind." Vesta said wisely, before she turned to Manticora and gave the zebra a little go-ahead nod, adding: "Let's complete the debriefing now. We should not forget that we are at war with Hell as well, and we have many more battles ahead of us."

"Sure." The zebra easily replied, before she looked down at the model and made an easy shoving gesture with a hand, and the animated, tiny Seraphims of ice on the model resumed their march, Killer leaning forwards on his arms to stare at this with amusement, and a sort of childish awe. This thing beats computer screens and even 3D holograms 10 to zero, any day.

"As I was saying, any chance of portaling in and out of the area was removed by the Metatrons imposing a Purity pressure over the region, so we could reasonably expect the enemy to be unable to escape, other than by flying or running. They should have also been unable to bring in reinforces, so it felt like the perfect moment to hit them, hard."

"But the enemy was much more numerous than expected, and of far higher class than we were told." Ira anticipated, nodding a bit and giving Manticora a look that urged her on. The zebra nodded back and confirmed: "Absolutely. The troops of angels that were following us to siege the village and surround it were engaged by large groups of demons which had been hiding in small camps and hiding areas in the thick of the forest."

Manticora's hand moved easily in midair, and Killer looked on with interest as groups of demons surged from a dozen well-hidden rally points in the forest, avoiding the Seraphims but attacking the following troops of angels, a far easier target than the few but powerful female warriors. This way, Manticora's group was cut off from the friendly forces, and isolated between a rock and a hard place, with the fortified village ahead and the demon raiders behind.

"As I learned later on, an Original Demon led these raiders. And did so excellently... we had our first casualty in this phase: the Seraphim I had left behind with the angels to act as liaison officer was targeted first, specifically sought between the angels and assaulted by a large group of carefully selected warriors, including at least one combat psychic." The zebra paused, making a grimace and looking into Vesta's eyes as she continued her report. "The psychic was able to cut the mental link between us and her, so that she didn't even manage to launch a warning. She fell in the battle that followed... and we in the vanguard had no idea of what was happening behind."

Killer made a grimace, biting his lower lip a bit as he nodded inwardly, thinking of how desperate the situation had gotten, so early into the operation: the Seraphims were constantly in contact as if sharing a single super-mind, which allowed a liaison officer to easily send to any other Seraphim thoughts, messages, even images: Seraphims could, via telepathy, easily share literally what they were seeing and feeling and smelling. The Original Demon who had led, and almost certainly planned the assault had been astute in choosing his first target, but without a combat psychic at hand, it still couldn't have avoided the launch of an immediate alarm signal.

"It is very worrisome that they managed to block you from receiving any thought... I don't think it ever happened before. Normally no psychic is able to interfere with our minds at all, and certainly no one ever managed to impede our mental communications." Ira said, looking worried as she turned to Vesta interrogatively only for the queen to nod grimly.

"It is an absolute first, and a very unpleasant one. They might be about to turn one of our greater strengths into a fatal weakness. With our minds so interconnected, if they ever managed to attack in deep into our shared consciousness, they could hit all of us at once." Vesta confirmed, the queen slamming her fist lightly into her other hand and resting her chin over it, looking thoughtful for a few long, nervous moments, as Killer leaned back in his chair and looked over the Seraphims at the table: all looked horrified, and for a good reason, as they traded unnerved gazes among them.

It was a tremendous risk... a successful psychic attack on large scale on their shared consciousness could potentially turn them all insane, or it could damage their abilities and powers, or kill them altogether, or even turn them into mindless, possessed slaves to someone else's will. It was a whole new threat for creatures who were normally absolutely impervious to psychic attacks: suddenly, they felt vulnerable, and exposed.

"Have we got any clue about this combat psychic, or psychics?" Ira asked, looking to Manticora with urgency in her eyes, before making a grimace as the zebra shook her head slowly.

"We know it's just one psychic, and we can safely assume that it is extremely powerful. Far more dangerous than any other psychic to ever exist." Manticora said, looking down at the model on the table with a grimace, her hand clenching in a tight fist as she glared down at the tiny ice figures without really seeing them, as Killer looked at her quietly, trying to imagine how bad it had to be to make the proud, mighty Seraphim so worried and shaken.

"There's been some quite nasty psychic we've had to deal with." Vesta observed seriously, before looking silently to Manticora, and the zebra paused for a moment, gazing back in her eyes, before saying clearly:

"Not anywhere near this powerful, I'm afraid. Whoever it is, whatever it is, it wiped out a whole regiment of angels in... probably seconds. We didn't hear any clash, any explosion, any scream, after all. Killing my liaison officer with the angels would not have sufficed if they had had to fight against the angels: we were not at all distant enough not to hear a battle raging behind our backs. But after the battle in the village, when we found the corpses, we saw that everyone had been killed, probably at the same time, by a crushing psychic attack. We found... brains literally leaking out of nostrils and ears, hearts exploded under the strain of sudden emotional fits of terrifying violence, bodies crushed into paste by a terrible psychic force. It still reverberated in the air when we arrived: it clearly came all from the same source, and it was far more powerful than anything seen before."

There were nervous nods and confirmations in the Seraphim ranks, murmurs rising around the table even as Ira and Vesta traded a look and thought of what to do. Killer met Manticora's eyes silently as the zebra made a grimace and nodded in new, silent confirmation. She wasn't making it up, and she wasn't exaggerating one bit: the worry in her eyes was absolutely real.

"Alexis could take this psychic down with her own psychic power. Her mind is incredibly hard to violate, and her power is fearsome. However, I've given a quick look into your memories, Manticora, and I see that even Alexis is not yet ready for such a battle. Not yet at least." Vesta seriously said, tracing a finger nervously up and down the golden front of her helmet placed on the table.

"It's... very serious." Ira commented, before making a grimace as she leaned back in her seat, hands gripping the edge of the table hard enough to make the thick, massive wood creak, as Killer turned to her in shock. "For the moment, I suggest bringing psychic repressors in. From anywhere. An urgent buy of portable and fixed repressors is needed to help us protect our minds both when we are out in the field and when we are in the Monasteries. And we should also limit the use of our mental connections to the absolute minimum."

Killer shifted in his seat awkwardly, and swallowed a bit despite himself, not really knowing what to suggest in such a case. He hadn't enough experience of supernatural wars and battles yet, and he didn't even know how a psychic repressor looked, and even less did he know how it could work. He had dealt with psychics of various kind and power - Alexis, but also Vera, and in addition Vesta, Ira and Manticora all had some significant psychic skill - but never had he faced such a challenge. He wasn't ready, and, worse, there was nothing intelligent he could suggest or do.

For the moment, he was no teacher, but just the student, and he listened with attention, promising himself that he would learn quickly, as Vesta made a grimace and tilted her head slightly to the side, observing: "I've used psychic repressors against Alexis in training. She fried them. Melted a large one like it was made of butter... and this... thing, whoever or whatever it is, is even worse. The repressors will only buy time, at most. Maximum urgency in getting them, but no delusions: it won't solve the problem."

"We also need to urgently resume training for the isolation and shielding of the mind. Everyone must start exercising again, and very seriously." Manticora added grimly, and everyone nodded, Killer included, as Ira turned to look at him firmly, eyes almost glowing with an unmistakable announcement. I'll give you Hell until you learn it too.

He winced inwardly, but looked back with determination, and no hesitations. He knew he couldn't afford ignorance and weakness. And he knew it would all make him stronger and even more powerful. That was a crucial motivation: even though he tried to hide it all the time, even though he tried to keep his hungers under control, he literally craved for power. The more powerful he got, the more power he wanted. He craved superiority, crushing, unfair, immense superiority over any and every rival. He wanted to crush Typhon under his toe, and he certainly wasn't going to allow any psychic to compete with his power.

He feared his hunger. Dreaded it, and tried to keep it on a leash... but at least, if it had a good point, it was that it always pushed him to strive for the absolute excellence. He didn't just want to be the first. He wanted to be first by an utterly unfair margin that would humble and make everyone else cower.

Both Ira and Vesta seemed to read his thoughts, as the females turned to him with slight, accomplice grins, and Vesta's hand moved to gently grasp the back of his own, squeezing it quietly, telling him that they would give him exactly what he wanted. More importantly, telling him, once more, that they wanted and wished him to gain his superiority. To be their powerful, invincible master all the way to the end of the universe.

"We will move immediately to ensure that all needed measures are taken." Vesta promised, looking over the assembly with regality, giving the slightest of nods and looking every bit like the queen she was, before saying: "The times ahead will be the most challenging ever experienced. We won't have a rest: Hell is against us, Heaven is against us. Enemies more powerful than ever before rise from all sides... but we have our Lord and Master with us. And we shall elevate him above all else. And his arm will work wonders and miracles, such is his power. Through adversity, he will rise higher than anyone else. And we with him!"

Vesta pulled up her hand, high into the air, holding Killer's own as the male looked over the assembly with surprise, each and every Seraphim smiling and slamming her hand onto the table and shouting: "For Lord and Master Killer, we fight!"

Killer smiled at this, speechless and embarrassed, even as he grinned when Ira bent forwards over the table to wink at him with a smirk... and then, as all Seraphims looked at him, waiting for instructions, he nodded and asked clearly: "How did the battle continue? You've had no direct contact with the Psychic, for what I understand."

"Correct." Manticora easily replied. "The psychic destroyed one regiment of the 15th Angel Division, and caused well over seventy percent of losses to the other two regiments. Thousands of angels were slaughtered, before they could even let out a scream." She paused, closing her eyes for a moment and dropping her head forwards as she added slowly: "The whole division risked being wiped out. Its few remains have now been retired from the frontline, and all survivors are being treated for stress disease, mental illness and crisis of uncontrollable terror. They are shell-shocked, and some will never recover. The division will take years to get back to even just the minimum combat strength and until then it will only be a number, without any combat value. It's been a disaster."

"Yet, the psychic did not push forth. It didn't mark you and your troops, and it didn't even finish the work on the angel division, even though it showed all that power. Why?" Killer asked, crossing his arms over his chest and looking thoughtful. "Having slaughtered so many angels, so easily, means having a huge victory within hand reach. Why drop out of the furball when you are not just winning, but triumphing? Is it possible that the psychic... ran out of energy somehow, perhaps used all its juice in the first attack, or something?"

Manticora looked at him for a moment, then put her hands on the table and leaned on her arms tiredly, bowing her head forwards and shaking it slightly from side to side.

"We don't know, but it is very possible. For some reason, the Psychic withdrew, or was ordered away from the battlefield: for some reason, it felt like it would be too risky to press on and attack us."

"Reminds me of when, years ago, we tested a new battle tank model, the Braveheart, by sending the prototype out in the field during a battle. The result was spectacular, with 14 enemy tanks destroyed. Easily, one by one. But we called it back all the same, because it wasn't finished, it wasn't at full efficiency, and, most importantly, it risked being destroyed before we could use it for the final phases of development, and for learning in full of its strong and weak points, highlighted by the quick appearance on the battlefield." Killer commented calmly, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the table as he looked down thoughtfully for a few long moments. The Seraphims looked at him with interest, some of them nodding, and Vesta leaned back in her throne before observing quietly: "Yes, I think I get your point... The psychic might have run out of juice, but assuming this as truth is risky: a warrior with the power it showed is unlikely to make such a rookie mistake. We shouldn't plan our moves on the basis of this... hope." The queen paused briefly, before trading a look with Ira and turning to Manticora: "We cannot afford to underestimate such a powerful enemy. Whatever, whoever this psychic is, it is more probable that it is just a prototype, a demon enhanced in some way to expand its powers exponentially, by either magic or technological means, or both at once. Never before, after all, we suffered an attack like this... horrible as it is, we must plan our next moves on the awareness that this is only the beginning. Potentially, more psychics like this could pop up in the near future, depending on what they did to create such a monstrosity. There's the possibility that they could be even stronger next time."

"Always plan for the worst scenario. The best case scenario, anyone can deal with." Ira murmured wisely, and Vesta nodded quietly in agreement, even as Killer touched Manticora's hand gently and, when the zebra looked at him questioningly, he merely made a soft gesture of the head to invite her to tell of the rest.

"Unaware of what was happening behind us, we moved onwards to the rally point, one mile or so away from the village. The demons in town had erected thick bastions and walls of ice around the city, as they often do these days: their plan was, evidently, to stand up a small but well placed forward operating base, from which they could launch raids on a whole, vast region." Manticora said, her voice clear and strong as she pointed a finger at the model, showing the thick curtain of walls and towers of ice that surrounded the small village. "We moved swiftly, breaking the force in three platoons: I was to lead the first in a frontal attack on the walls, taking with me the best pyrokinetics in the force for breaching past the demons' defences quickly."

As Manticora told of the battle, the magic model on the table reproduced every moment of the fight: under Killer's amazed eyes, the tiny but perfect ice figures of the Seraphims broke down in three groups of around forty each. The platoons approached the village through the thick forest, under the cover of an invisibility blanket kept up by the spells of Manticora and of the best mages in the small army.

As to the pyrokinetics, a couple of Seraphims around the table stood up and bowed to their comrades when Manticora mentioned them: one of the two strong, toned females, Killer saw, was the young, beautiful mare that he had, now so long ago, met in the monastery's showers already in his first night in Heaven.

"... the third platoon was the one moving first, though, as I send it on a march around the village, with the order of assaulting the doors at the opposite end of town. The plan was to use the third platoon for ensuring that no demons would run away, and to divide the enemy forces in two. I sent the mages with the third platoon, to help them cause the greatest possible ruckus and damage..."

"So they'd seem far more numerous and dangerous than they actually were." Killer completed easily, and Manticora nodded with a smile, unsurprised by his accurate analysis, instead only moving a finger in the air to send the platoon of tiny ice figures moving in its covert march towards its staging point near the gates of the village.

"When the third platoon confirmed that they were ready and in position, I ordered the second to take down the sentinels on the middle bulwark, and climb on the tower with the longbows, while we moved forth with the first platoon, cut a breach into the walls, and invaded the village and, simultaneously, the third platoon attacked the doors at the other end of the town." Manticora continued, making quick, easy gestures of her finger in the air to send the tiny figures on the model moving, showing, Killer was sure, the exact movements and actions that had been carried out in the real battle.

He looked on in fascination and interest as a small group of Seraphims moved from the second Platoon to the limits of the forest and shot with enormous longbows towards the sentinels on the walls, knocking them flying to crash down the other side, into the village, before the other warriors of the second platoon charged forwards and climbed on top of the bastion, getting rid of the remaining enemies in close combat.

The tiny figure of Manticora and a group of mages summoned terrible fire to cut a breach through the enormous wall of ice, near the same Bastion, and charged into the town without hesitation, just as the third platoon did the same, at the other end of the town, while all the Seraphims of the second climbed on top of the captured bastion and pulled their longbows, sending a rain of huge, spear-like arrows of holy energy into the army of demons in the square of the village.

"As I said earlier, the enemy army was neither demoralized nor weakened. Contrary to the triumphant and misleading reports of the 15th Division, the losses suffered by the enemy were not significant. Their reaction was swift and well organized, overall: they rallied around a reinforced pentagon portal they were trying to build in the square of the village, and fought to defend it as long as they could." Manticora explained, her hand touching the top of a semi-completed obelisk that jutted out from a pentagram drawn into the square of the village. There was one obelisk at each apex, and Killer had studied enough books written by Vesta to know that it was an high-power, large-scale kind of portal which, fed with enough energy, would have been able to work even with the Metatrons of Heaven putting the region under irradiation with Purity. It would have been a door connecting Hell and Heaven, allowing huge armies to move from the depths of Hell into the core of Heaven. More stable and far more controllable than a Crack.

The five enormous obelisks were entirely made of demonic crystal, loaded with energy and Corruption, and they were to act as power cells for keeping the portal open.

"Luckily, the portal wasn't complete yet. We were just in time." Manticora muttered, and Vesta nodded with a grimace, even as Killer looked on with interest as the Seraphims of ice on the model engaged a furious battle with a much larger army of demons around the incomplete portal, focusing his attention, in particular, on a massive centaur with spiked steel hoofs the size of cars, with a massive, muscular horse body and a long, dragon-like tail of bone sections jutting with steel and bone blades and thorns. From the waist up, the gigantic demon had the muscular, powerful body of a rhino, with thick, armour-like skin and two cruel blade of steel in place of horns on his muzzle, with massive bull horns jutting out of the side of his head. More noticeable still, he had four arms, huge and muscular and powerful, one of them handing a gigantic cleaver sword the size of a bus, another holding a spear the pole of which was bigger than a tree trunk. The tremendous weapon ended with multiple triangular blades intersecting one another to form a conical tip which could pierce, cut on all sides, and smash things into tiny bits like a monstrous warhammer. At the wrists of the other two arms, the gigantic monster had thick, heavy chains, wrapped all the way up to his biceps. The chains glowed with hellfire, flames almost black, so dark they were, and the long chains dragged on the ground, ending in spiked spheres of steel and a series of cruel hooks as sharp as razors.

To make the whole thing even worse, the gigantic creature had a tower built on his back, from the top of which demon mages and arches watered the battling masses down below with spells and arrows and spears. The creature had to be no less than seventy feet at the shoulder, a true titan, towering over every building in the village, by far.

Killer looked on with attention as the tiny figure of Manticora on the model charged at the gigantic monster, the huge male's eyes narrowing as the zebra began to grow, doubling in size which each step she took, while the Seraphims on the bastion concentrated their fire against the tower on the demon's back, a mage flying off the structure when a huge, spear-sized arrow of holy energy pierced him from side to side like a sheet of paper, one of the demon horses armed with bows ending up nailed to the tower's wall by two more arrows, even as Manticora, now no less than sixty feet tall, dodged the whiplash of the colossal flail of the Centaur, before the demon lunged forwards in a charge, spear at the ready, and the zebra's hands glowed as energy solidified into beautiful white gauntlets glowing with purity. Manticora caught the enormous tip of the spear in her hands, thrusting her hooves down into the ground and anchoring herself with a snarl even as she was forced backwards, smashing into a house and destroying it like a toy as her hooves ripped deep trenches into the ground...

"I see our old friend Tigars was in for a match. Another thing we had not been warned of." Ira observed, grinning grimly as she looked coldly down at the large ice figure of the centaur demon as the battle went on in the magic model, with a group of Seraphims assaulting the tower on the gigantic demon's back, and one of the proud angel warriors was pierced from side to side by the centaur's sword and then ripped brutally in half in a rain of blood and gore as the giant monster swung his weapon to the side. In the same moment, Manticora managed to stop the demon's charge, snarling as she began to push him backwards, muscles bulging with power as Killer stared at the spectacle with amazement, before the figure of the zebra whipped its tail upwards, and it lengthened as terrible spikes and thorns jutted out all over it before exploding forwards in a burst of poisonous arrows that pierced the centaur's front and arms and crumbled the tower on his back.

"Yeah." Manticora replied, looking down at the moving figures with a grimace. "I tried sending out a call to get reinforcements, but I only got a headache out of it. It shocked me at the moment... after the battle, I realized that it was, of course, the psychic blocking the stream of the Shared Consciousness." She paused, leaning her arms on the table as her hands clenched into fists, her eyes looking down at her ice-copy as it battled the centaur demon, glowing coldly and angrily as the giant lashed out with his long, burning chains even as the thorns and spikes sunk through his thick skin, dripping poison and sending dark blood dripping and streaming down his powerful body.

The Manticora of ice battered the first chain away with a punch, sparks going up from her gauntlet as metal met metal, before she dodged the hooks at the end of the other whip, only to be hit by the spiked sphere of steel that followed, attached to the longest chain. She was knocked flying backwards to crash down into a building, shattering it and ending up buried under a hill of ruins... and two more Seraphims leapt up from the battle as the centaur charged forwards with his spear ready to pierce its way into the rubble: the immense demon swung his spear-mace out and smashed the first out of the sky, crushing the angel into the ground in a splatter of blood, before swatting the second out of the sky like a fly with a swift backwards swing of the enormous pole.

Killer continued to watch, silent and focused, as the model of Manticora smashed its way out of the ruins and tackled the centaur to the ground, leaping at his waist and wrapping her powerful arms around it, forcing the huge creature to fall heavily as she dragged him out of balance with her formidable strength... before Vesta closed her eyes and nodded quietly, standing up. "We've seen and learned what we needed." She softly swung her hand out, and the model of ice occupying all the long, massive table vanished without leaving a single sign of its existence, not even a drop of water, as the queen picked up her helmet and Killer made a grimace for a brief moment, having been more than a bit curious about the rest of the battle.

"Tigars and the survivors of the demon army in the village eventually decided to leave, summoning a thick icy fog to hide their movements, and tearing a breach in the walls they had built around the village to get out and vanish through the forest. And thanks to the Psychic, there was no angel in position to cut their retreat routes." Manticora said calmly, smiling a bit as she noticed Killer's expression and put a hand on his shoulder gently, squeezing quietly into his strong musculature before her expression darkened again as she concluded: "Overall, the battle was inconclusive. Tigars was way too strong for us to take down on our own, but he wasn't strong enough to kill us all either... and while we damaged him and his army and re-captured the village, we lost a division of angels to the psychic's ferocious power. There was no clear winner in this battle... but our losses, spread on a much smaller force, are far more painful."

"Tigars is an Archdemon. And it seems he's now not just a general, but a Throne of Hell, having overthrown the High Prince of the Eastern Province." Ira calmly said, standing up from her seat and looking towards Manticora with silent support in her eyes. "He's a tough customer to deal with. You did more than well."

"Not to mention that, had their portal been activated, we would be on the brink of annihilation by this time, with their armies flooding out of it and swarming all over Heaven." Vesta added, closing her eyes and nodding slowly as she put her golden helmet up, crossing her arms and looking silently over the assembly as all Seraphims stood up and bowed to her respectfully. Killer took it as the signal to stand up as well, and as he did so, Vesta nodded with a slight smile, before ordering clearly to the assembly: "Spread the word of today's decisions. Let the grave news be known, and begin to secure your families and possessions in earnest. Ira and I will make sure that Psychic repressors are rolled in service as soon as possible. I will also personally warn Alexis and the Seraphims at our other two monasteries." The Seraphims nodded and slammed their fists on their chests, before the queen turned to Manticora and put a hand on the zebra's shoulder, saying gently: "You bring Killer to the Elysian Fields, and seek William. It's important that Master Killer can warn his old friend, and form the necessary plans for the future."

Manticora nodded deeply, before looking at Killer from over Vesta's shoulder, smiling at him lovingly as she replied: "It'll be my pleasure, and honor."

Killer smiled back, touched, and Vesta gazed at him from over her shoulder with a sly, amused grin before closing the debriefing with a loud call: "For God, Elelyon, Creator of our World, and for our Master, Killer!"

"For God. For our Master!" The Seraphims exclaimed, before bowing to Killer as they began to filter out of the room, one by one. Vesta briefly kissed his cheek and nuzzled him lovingly before walking away with a wink, and Ira was the last to leave, walking up to him and smiling hesitatingly for a moment before quickly kissing his lips.

He caught her hands as she stepped back to leave, smiling amusedly, and pulled her forwards again, even as the cobra blushed, kissing her gently, first on the lips, then on the cheek... before laughing as she shoved him backwards and cleared her throat loudly, cheeks flushed but voice firm and commanding: "You are on a special leave. Use it well. And prepare for training twice as hard as usual when you come back."

"Yes, ma'am." Killer replied easily, smiling to the cobra with affection before slowly letting go of her hands and watching silently as she walked out of the room, looking back one last time to wink at him as she pulled the massive door closed behind her back, leaving Killer and Manticora alone in the long, vast room.

"So. You are all mine for the day, apparently." Manticora teased, grinning as she walked towards him and leaned her back against his thick, masculine chest, throwing her head backwards with a soft sigh of pleasure as he wrapped his arms around her waist and rubbed a hand slowly over her rippling, chiseled abs. "It is a nice sensation to be envied by all the girls of Heaven."

"All might be excessive. Make that 'many'." Killer amusedly observed, nodding a bit as he squeezed her teasingly back against his own powerful abdominals, smiling as the strong female arched her back and looked up invertedly at him, grinning:

"That's a detail. The ones that do not envy me are those few ones that haven't yet seen you, and do not know what they are missing out."

The zebra straightened and turned to look at him, meeting his eyes with a hungry glow in her own, as her gaze moved down from his head to his toes and back, and the Seraphim grinned and licked her lips slowly as she added: "Which is twice as impressive as it sounds, because I've actually not yet seen all of you myself, either." She paused, then walked towards the door and pulled it open, pausing on the threshold only to add playfully: "But just what I've heard... Oh, it is enough to give me thrills never even dreamed."

Killer followed her out of the room, closing the massive door behind himself before leaning down to her ear and teasingly whispered: "Stories are great, but it's the first-hand experience that matters."

"True..." Manticora agreed, grinning widely as she walked ahead of him, leading the way and reaching a hand backwards to seize the massive bulge in his pants, fingers squeezing into the monstrous mass of his flaccid, enormous member as he grunted lightly, smiling to himself as her hand slowly moved down along the bulge, until it finally reached the massive head, before sliding back upwards towards the thick base, her touch reverent and loving as she stopped in the middle of the corridor, holding her breath until she reached the large root of his member.

"Clouds of Heaven...! For your wife, giving birth sure wasn't a problem!" Manticora exclaimed, squeezing firmly over his thick flesh before slowly letting go of him, grinning amusedly. "Usually stories get bigger and bigger the more times they are told... but they didn't give you an inch that you do not really have."

Killer laughed softly at that, stepping forwards to walk at her side, and she looked sideways at him, smiling amusedly as she said: "Before we go, big male, follow me. There's a thing I'd like to do."

"Sure." Killer agreed, nodding slightly as they took the ramp of stairs to the left, climbing them and then stepping into a long, tall-arched corridor with wonderful floors of marble of different colors drawing geometrical decorations. Massive wooden doors opened on the corridor on both sides, and Killer knew that each door lead to the personal quarters of a Seraphim. "Ira is a bit of an exception, to the norm, isn't she...?" Killer asked after a moment, turning back to look at Manticora curiously. "She's not rich, and she is alone here in Heaven, but for what I understand, most Seraphims have families and great possessions in the various Skies."

"Many of us do, yes." Manticora agreed, closing her eyes briefly and giving the slightest of nods. "Most of the Seraphims come from the aristocracy of Heaven; from some of the most ancient families of born immortals. So, yes. Most of the Seraphims are rich and have vast clans, more than simple families. Many dads, and some mothers, are like my own father and sit in the Senate as part of the Heavenly Council... But you can bet that they will be purged now, as the extremists leaded by Typhon deliver the last blows and take full control. It's been in the air for a long time. Their presence in the Council won't do much to help our cause."

Killer looked down at the floor for a moment, gazing at his feet without really seeing them, as he felt his thoughts running around in his head, feeling horrified and amazed and incredulous at the same time as he found himself in the middle of such an epochal change in Heaven. He bit his lower lip slightly, and then turned towards the tall, strong female, looking at her hesitatingly for a moment before asking: "You really think your father will go that far...? Will he really order the destruction of the Seraphims...?"

Manticora turned towards him without a word, looking into his eyes for a long moment, before sighing and nodding, even as she stopped in front of one of the doors, and calmly placed her hand on a screen-panel in the middle of the massive wooden shutter.

"You saw him yourself. And you know what he did to me in order to expand his power. You think he will have some kind of hesitation?"

"No, unfortunately." Killer admitted, gazing curiously at the very technological scanner that quickly read the palm of Manticora's hand and unlocked the door with a faintly audible click. The zebra smiled sadly at him before pushing the thick door easily open, walking inside and inviting him to follow her.

He stepped into her room with a respectful little bow of his head and a murmured request of permission which made Manticora shake her head in amusement as she pushed the door closed behind him. The huge male looked around himself discreetly, and unconsciously followed his military training by immediately scanning the area for the possible access and escape routes, which here fell down to a single, huge arched window looking out over the clouds, the sun shining through the thick clear crystal and flooding the room with golden light. The wall to the right was completely covered by a large wardrobe of solid, chiseled wood, which uniquely arched in the middle over a door in the wall... but this only leaded into a spacious bathroom: past the ajar door he could see a beautiful, enormous Jacuzzi made of clear, lucid marble, with white, soft towels at the ready near the three large steps that leaded into the deep pool.

The bedroom itself was spacious and comfortable, with a large canopy bed with sapphire curtains and many huge, plushy pillows all over it was against the wall to the left, with a simple wooden dummy-skeleton at the feet of the bed and a large wooden chest on the floor, to the left of the only window.

To the right of the huge window, leaning against the wall and fitting in the room's corner, was a desk of solid wood with a comfy armchair. The stump of a couple candles on small silver plates were on top of the furniture, along with a messy pile of papers and a beautiful eagle feather laid near a small crystal bottle filled with black ink. Several large books, ancient and noble in their leather covers, were neatly organized in a row on top of the desk, against the wall, but Killer spotted a few worn-out, much more modest comic books and a huge pile of magazines which, judging from the cover of the one on top, talked of weapons of mortal and supernatural manufacture. Killer couldn't help but smile in amusement at this, shaking his head slowly as he thought that these were the kind of magazines one would find in his own room. Except mine only cover mortal technology. I want these ones, now.

_ _

"See something funny...?" Manticora asked, smiling softly as she walked towards the dummy and put her helmet down on top of it, before looking at him with entertainment as Killer cleared his throat slightly and then walked towards the desk, touching the tall pile of magazines with surprising delicacy.

"This is the kind of stuff I buy all the time back at home. I... did not really expect to find stuff like this in your room." Killer said, smiling to himself as he looked down to the lucid cover of the publication, spotting the photo of a mortal medium machine gun laying near a huge wooden longbow with the rope made of bright, cold sapphire light and the handgrip protected and decorated by a piece of finely chiseled gold. Lower down on the page was the image of a chain-whip ending with a heavy, sharp-edged pyramid of steel wrapped in dark hellfire.

The zebra looked at this for a moment, tilting her head to the side in surprise, before she smiled wider and shook her head slowly, looking amused. "Why not, Lord Killer...? We know each other from long enough for you to know that I'm no flower girl, and that I can dismantle any weapon in two seconds, put it back together just as quickly, and improve it in the process if I'm in the mood."

"True." Killer agreed, grinning as he nodded and opened the magazine, looking with interest down at the various reviews and articles and smiling in entertainment at the articles on mortal weaponry, before turning to gaze into her eyes teasingly. "That still does not necessarily tell me that you are one for gun orgies, though."

"Isn't it nice to see that I can still surprise you every now and then...?" Manticora easily replied, grinning teasingly and half-lidding her eyes as she turned towards him, spreading her legs a bit and bending forwards as she reached behind her back with her hands, working to undo the solid clasps of her heavy bra-armor and purposefully showing her glorious cleavage to him as she did.

Killer gazed into her eyes for a long moment of surprise, before he allowed his eyes to look lower, taking in the full, amazing abundance of her large, firm breasts, squeezed tightly together by her armor and yet huge and perfectly shaped, sitting up proudly on her chest and making fun of gravity in their cheekiness. She licked her lips slightly as she slowly pulled her armor top open, bending to the side slowly as she let one shoulder pad drop down, then the other, before straightening slowly and teasingly, holding the metal cups against her nipples for a few more moments, until she pulled the armor away entirely, and put it down over an arm of the dummy structure, facing him with a grin as his eyes hungrily dwelled over her large black nipples, decorated with small golden rings.

"You've never been short of surprises." Killer said, grinning to the powerful female and licking his lips teasingly as she posed for him, arching her back slightly and squeezing her huge swells in her hands. The zebra winked at him with a loving smile, and she turned to the side as she pushed her thumbs into the thick metallic chains that crossed on her hips to keep up the bottom part of her armor, the female swaying her shapely butt from side to side teasingly as she slowly, slowly pushed her armor down her long, beautiful thighs, until she finally let the heavy chains and armor plates fall down onto the floor, stepping out of them and turning towards him with a grin, legs spread wide, eyes teasingly looking up into his, as one of her hands stroked sloppily down her powerful, chiseled abs and the other slowly teased over her black-fleshed, blossoming sex, two fingers spreading her swollen lips lightly, as the light shined over the wetness of pleasure covering her hot flesh.

Killer looked at this silently, licking his lips slowly as he traced his eyes down the wonderful, sculptured curves of her body and down the strong, huge muscles, loving how raw, destructive power, amazing physical strength and femininity mixed up so perfectly, as she let out a low, hot moan as she spread her lips open for him, showing her wetness, her desire, her craving.

"What's it...? You look stunned. Did old simple Manticora leave the super-mega male Lord Killer without words...?" The zebra teased, walking towards him and wrapping her arms around his neck, grinning widely and letting her huge breasts push into his powerful, masculine chest as the huge male gently seized her hips and smiled amusedly.

"I wasn't exactly expecting this when you brought me here. But it is a beautiful surprise." Killer said, pulling the strong female forwards against his muscular form and kissing her lips affectionately.

"I'm just changing my clothes for our little leave." Manticora playfully replied, before pushing her muzzle against his, to sloppily lick his cheek as her hands firmly seized into his broad, powerful back, hugging him closer. "I'm a married woman, Lord Killer, you know it..." She added, pushing a hand against his chest and holding up the other, showing the beautiful silver ring with sapphire on her finger. "I can't just... let you fuck my brains out, here and now... much as I'd like to." She paused, grinning teasingly as she pushed herself against him, rubbing her chest teasingly up and down against his, as she pushed her naked crotch against the enormous bulge in his pants, rubbing her swollen sex over the shape of his immense cock, letting him feel her softness and wetness even across the fabric. "It is only right that my hubby gets to see my eyes open as wide as dinner plates when I see you naked for the first time."

"Evil bitch." Killer commented, grinning widely as Manticora smirked with mischievous delight, eyes half-lidding as she licked her lips slowly... and she let out a groan of surprise and delight as the huge male seized her hips and forced her to turn around, pulling her back against him and thrusting his crotch against her plump, firm buttocks as one of his strong, large hands slid slowly forwards from her hip over her muscular, chiseled abdomen, and then down her groin, making her moan in surprise and pleasure. He pushed his fingers gently over her swollen, wet black lips, and he spread them wide with his index and pinky, shoving the other two fingers roughly into her, making her gasp in surprise, her back arching as a purr of delight escaped her lips, turning in a low, throaty murr as he roughly, powerfully thrust in and out of her amazingly-tight passage, hot juices sticking to his fingers and leaking out of her in long ropes that dangled and then fell to the floor in a dribble as wet, loud squelches resounded through the room.

"You are so tight... you know that I will ruin you? Forever?" Killer teased, biting at her ear playfully as he whispered into it, his free hand moving up from her hip to squeeze a huge breast roughly, fingers pinching the huge black nipple as they rolled the soft, firm swell over her chest, his other hand locked on her groin almost viciously as he pumped his fingers in and out of her depths with experience and skill, rolling them against her inner walls even as he thrust savagely, urging her pleasure to rise and mount and explode, as his thumb rolled her clit teasingly.

"I know, I know...!" Manticora exclaimed, shivering in delight and arching her back against him as she threw her head back with a groan of delight. "And I look forwards to it! I want it, I dream it, I need it... and it'll only make if even better as you make me yours, and stretch me gaping wide, to know that my useless husband and my bastard, damned father will stare at me and realize that I will never again see them as males. It'll be heaven for me... and at the same time, it'll be revenge, too. It can't get any better than that."

"You let me... And you'll see it gets even better." Killer teased, kissing the side of her neck gently as her breath quickened and roughed up, chest heaving under his hand as he thrust his fingers even faster and harder deep inside her, before abruptly twisting his fingers back and forth inside her tight love passage as he felt the heat in her body rise, as he felt the distinct flex and shiver of her incoming release, urging it on with a grin as she let out a scream of delight, gritting her teeth and shutting her eyes as her cheeks burned red, her hips bucking automatically against his hand as her mighty abs flexed and bulged while hot and clear drops of her desire rained down on the floor, where several small puddles had already formed.

"Oh God... oh, Master... My God and Master...!" Manticora breathlessly exclaimed, her eyes opening wide and a hot breath washing out of her nose as her back arched and she shoved down hard against his working fingers as if she wanted to impale herself on them. Killer grinned widely, closing his eyes with his own hot pant of satisfaction and pleasure as he felt her passage clench hungrily against his large fingers, squeezing into them with surprising strength and heat, her passage a burning inferno of pleasure as she trembled in his arms and her hips jerked back and forth crazily, almost out of control as a large spray of hot juice burst down her passage and splattered out of her and onto the marble floor, the zebra groaning in delight and staring breathlessly at the ceiling, thighs spasming as the huge male continued to tease her clenching, boiling-hot passage, stretching her orgasm on and on, increasing and lengthening her ecstasy, far beyond anything she had thought possible, as drops and splatters of hot juice flew out of her clenching sex.

It was only a few long, endless and yet so short moments of ecstatic delight later that the huge male pulled his two fingers roughly out of her, the female gasping at the feeling and her eyes bulging as she let out a scream of pleasure, feeling her groin on fire and clenching once more, even harder, as she experienced a second powerful climax, a spray of hot juice bursting out of her as soon as his fingers popped free of her hot, soaked lips. "Oh, the wonders that you can work with just your fingers..." Manticora teasingly breathed, and Killer grinned, looking down past her shoulder to see her hips pumping automatically in the air as her orgasm shook her from hoof to male, and he brought his soaked, dripping fingers up to her mouth, thrusting one of the two against her lips in a silent order that she easily understood, easily parting her lips and leaning forwards to take his large digit in her mouth, suckling on it lovingly and drinking of her own juices, tasting her ecstasy and his flesh as her eyes slid closed with a low murr of pleasure. Killer pulled back after a few moments, his finger now clean, as he allowed Manticora to turn around and look up at him lovingly as he brought his other digit to his own mouth, licking it slowly and tasting her delight with a grin.

"You taste delicious... And I love it when the hubby watches. We will have some real great moments, me and you." Killer said softly, gazing down at her teasingly as the zebra licked her lips in anticipation, before grinning as she added suggestively: "And I've got a daughter too... and I'm sure that she will love to meet you, just like any other girl does..."

She pushed their muzzles together, kissing his lips adoringly as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as their tongues wrestled for a long, delightful moment, battling and maneuvering, the zebra teasingly biting at his lower lip, the huge male easily biting lightly into her own, and a couple drops of their blood mixed together, as the little sting of pain added just another kind of spice to the affection... And finally, when the kiss reluctantly broke and she pulled back, Manticora smiled and shook her head with entertainment, saying quietly: "Makes me feel old to think that I'm married, with a daughter training to become a Seraphim, and everything. I'm here in your arms, and I wonder if I do not look like a cougar on the hunt for young, strong maleness..." She paused, her voice dropping low as her hand traced reverently down the thick, powerful profile of his masculine chest, before seizing into his enormous bicep, squeezing on the potent muscle to feel the hardness and prodigious size of his chords, her palm brushing over his mighty body with adoration. "... for muscles, for vigor, for strong hands that know what to do. That know it oh so well..."

"Nothing about you is old." Killer easily replied, even as he flexed his arm lightly, looking amused as she eagerly squeezed into his hard muscle, worshiping his body and his strength, before he teased playfully: "You make for a hot, hot MILF."

Manticora laughed at this, looking entertained... before she pushed him back gently until his back bumped into the enormous wardrobe of massive wood, and she threw one of its tall doors open, even as she continued to lean with abandon against his massive form.

Killer held her gently by the hips, looking quietly on as she dug between her clothes with a hand and easily pulled out a simple black top, which she easily put on, snorting a bit as she wrestled her huge breasts into it. The top left her cleavage wonderfully exposed, and it was cut short enough that it not only showed her strong abs, but pretty much left uncovered the underside of her bare, firm swells. He looked at this with a soft whistle of appreciation, and Manticora grinned and gave him a wink, even as she pulled out a coat hanger with a folded pair of simple, tight blue jeans so faded and battered to almost be white, and a black G-string.

Killer let her go and folded his arms on his chest with a smile as she easily stepped into these and pulled her pants up, the jeans wrapping tightly on her long, shapely legs and adhering perfectly to her toned buttocks, making her look all the more beautiful as she picked from the wardrobe a thick black-leather belt with steel studs and wrapped it around her waist.

"And now, I'll show you something else that you'll like." She announced as she finished locking the belt's clasp, smiling with amusement as she pulled another door of the huge wardrobe open to reveal not clothes but stacks of weapons of all sorts, making Killer turn with surprise which rapidly morphed into a delighted grin.

"Nice. Looks like Alexis's own wardrobe back at home."

"I bet." The zebra replied agreeably, tracing her finger down a rack which orderly held a variety of swords, from a long, thin katana to a thick-bladed cleaver, heavy and massive. She looked thoughtfully over the huge assortment of weapons, and Killer gazed all over the incredible collection, spotting a couple of large-caliber submachine-guns, tens of different pistols and handguns, all of massive caliber, several huge sniper rifles standing up in a vertical rack to the left, and a variety of assault rifles displayed, one above the other, on a wooden expositor. On top of it, a proud, long-barreled marksman rifle sat regally: the weapons sat halfway between the larger sniper rifles and the assault rifles, capable of automatic fire on much longer distances and with much more lethal caliber than a normal assault rifle, but mostly used for taking down selected targets at long distance with accurate shots in semi-auto. Back home, Killer's army used to employ a Marksman weapon in each 4-man team.

The rifles shown here had, at most, only resemblances to the mortal-designed ones, though: thanks to the Council, Heaven was waterproof, at least in theory, and nothing produced by mortals could be shipped in... and nothing of heavenly manufacture had to go to the mortal world. Of course, smuggling actually existed even in the world of immortals, at the end of the day, and it was actually a florid business, so it was not at all impossible to find mortal devices in Paradise.

And in the course of history, a few prized objects made in Heaven had ended up in the mortal world... Indeed, Killer thought with amusement that Wyvern had probably been forged from Godblood smuggled directly from Heaven somehow.

"This will go for today." Manticora finally said, pulling out of the rack a long, curved Khukhri blade, sized up to be a short sword instead of a side-carried knife. The blade was silvery and speckles, bare of any imperfection and terribly sharp, glowing with a surreal, ghostly energy, as electricity crackled in the air around the weapon, making it look even more dangerous... and that was before Killer saw with surprise that two rifle barrels stuck out of the handle, running on both sides of the first half of the blade, semi-hidden into the fuller in the top, thick spine of the blade.

The weapon only had one sharp edge, but that single one was devastatingly lethal... it just took skill to use the Khukhri to the best effect, and Killer had no doubt about Manticora's prowess with it as with any other weapon, looking at her with a soft smile as swung the weapon out in a series of quick slashes, testing the balance and refreshing her memories of how to best use that quite unique blade, before she picked up a sheath of thick, sturdy leather and steel and put in on her back, locking the silver clasp of the shoulder strap, which rested on her right breast. The strap also acted as bandolier, filled with several large clips of ammunition which was far from standard full-metal jacket rounds: Killer could see some of the bullets glowing with pure, holy light, while others rippled and shifted, made of liquid silver, while others were charged with high-voltage electricity.

Killer was considerably less amazed than one could expect, though, since with demons and monsters raging on the Mortal Plane, he had started designing and producing similar kinds of unconventional munitions for himself and for his army. Of course, he had no idea how to access to Holy Light, make it liquid and put it into a bullet, but to counter some vampiric monstrosities back at home they had engineered a squashing-head bullet which contained a phosphorescent liquid capable to irradiate an astounding amount of infra-red radiation and UV rays. It was blazing, liquid sunlight... and it worked very well, when used against the appropriate targets.

His attention actually peaked when Manticora touched the golden, chiseled handle of an enormous wooden longbow which was locked in place by silvery gauntlets wrapped tightly around the nocks, with a third one holding the handle. It amazed Killer that such a simple and apparently antiquate weapon would be held in so high regard, and given such additional protection even here, deep into the unassailable fortress, into the locked-down door of Manticora. Those longbows clearly had something special about them... And he looked on with interest as the zebra touched the middle gauntlet gently, and a ray of green light coming from an hidden microcamera scanned her eye, and then her whole body.

After a moment, the gauntlets released the weapon as the system recognized its owner, and Manticora took the enormous longbow out of the wardrobe.

It was huge, almost as tall as her when she tapped the group with the bottom nock and turned to Killer with a gentle smile. "I know you want to learn what's so special about these old pieces of wood."

"Indeed." Killer easily replied, looking down at the weapon with interest, trying to understand what could be so impressive about them: he had weapons of comparable design in his collection at home. He had both wooden ones, ancient and precious, and modern ones in metallic alloys which granted the limbs better flexibility and greater throwing power. At least one of the bows he had was actually even bigger than Manticora's, as it had been built specifically for him, using metal alloy for the bow's body and a strong, flexible plastic composite for the bowstring, giving the weapon a fearsome throwing power, especially coupled with Killer's incredible strength. One arrow fired from that bow could easily smash into a light armored vehicle and knock it over on its side... still, it wasn't a weapon that Killer really employed that often on the battlefield, for obvious reasons.

Heaven's longbows had bowstrings made of energy, and Manticora's one made no exception, as a crackling, blue ray of energy connected the nocks, ready to be pulled back... and Killer was obviously caught by this, his eyes dwelling on the ever-shifting energy, which danced from nock to nock, glowing intensely, but Manticora shook her head with an amused smile and said: "No, Master. Not the otherworldly-looking string. Appearances do lie often, and this is one example. What truly makes these bows special is the wood of the limbs."

"The wood...?" Killer asked, looking incredulously over the weapon, but seeing nothing particularly impressive about the carefully smoothed wood: he couldn't recognize the kind of wood and he was pretty sure that it came from some kind of tree that on earth did not exist - Back home, a bow of this kind would be made out of yew - but other than that, it looked like wood, pure and simple.

"Yes. It's a very special, very unique kind of wood. It comes from a tree that only grows in Heaven... and, indeed, only here and there. It is extremely rare, and to make things worse it does not have a particular habitat... they have been found, in the past, in each of Heaven's seven skies. But you'll be lucky to ever see one in a lifetime. And it takes Eons for a tree of this kind to grow big enough to be used to make bows. Each bow is made from a single, carefully selected piece of wood... and even with modern technology, there is not a composite material, nor in the Mortal World, nor in Heaven, that can match the strength and flexibility of this wood. It gives our bows a power that... well. You've got to see it to believe it." Manticora explained, smiling in entertainment at his surprised expression, before she grinned a bit and walked towards the tall, arched window, opening it wide and looking out over the clouds beneath, as Killer followed her, wrapping his arms gently around her waist as she took position.

"Use some of your awesome God sauce and create something we can hit." Manticora said, grinning back at him over his shoulder, and Killer snorted before concentrating for a moment... and suddenly, out of thin air, a huge statue of a Gigataur made of lodestone appeared in the distance, floating absurdly in the sky. Manticora stared at this with a gape, and Killer himself gulped and rubbed a hand awkwardly into his mane, surprised to no end by what he had just done... before the zebra snorted laughter as they heard shouts of alarm coming from the battlements above, where the angels on guard had certainly spotted the absurd apparition.

"Better to take that thing out quickly, before someone falls into paranoia." Manticora said, grinning widely as she easily took aim with the bow and pulled back the string, which glowed and crackled with her energies as her huge bicep bulged with power, Killer staring ahead as he felt her strong abdominals tensing under his hands, before looking down as a long, spear-like arrow of energy formed into the bow, and Manticora fired.

Killer could feel the tension in her body, hear the hiss of the arrow shooting forth at absurd speed, and he literally felt a shockwave in the air as he stared at the statue, far away in the sky, before his eyes bulged as the dart smashed the huge statue backwards like it weighted nothing, as time seemed to all but slowdown, Killer's sharp eyes spotting large cracks spreading quickly through the figure as the arrow shot across it, from side to side, like a bullet through butter.

A moment later, the statue exploded into fragments, which rained down through the clouds like tiny meteors, leaving him staring in amazement.

"And that's why you don't want to mess with a Seraphim and her bow." Manticora cheerfully commented, grinning widely and nodding, before surprising Killer once more as she held up her bow for him: "Try it out. Feel it for yourself..."

"Thank you." Killer murmured, touched by the gesture: he had, after all, a pretty good idea of the value of these longbows by now. They were unique, and extremely elite. Only a group of chosen ones among the Seraphims' armada had longbows, and they were protected and almost revered. Now Killer was learning why the bows were so important... and he could fully appreciate the trust and love Manticora was showing him by giving him her most precious possession.

He took the weapon in his hand with softness and almost religious reverence, treating it with the respect it deserved, even as he touched the glowing bowstring with curiosity, almost with apprehension, pulling on it experimentally and letting out a low grunt of shock at the amount of effort required, his huge bicep flexing and bulging explosively. Manticora did not miss his surprise, and she grinned widely, reaching up with her hands idly to seize the back of her head, showing the bulging, powerful musculature of her own mighty body as her eyes glinted playfully. "Hard, huh...?"

Killer snorted at that, looking entertained, and he took a ready position before pulling back firmly on the string, easily bringing it back all the way to his cheek, taking a short moment to feel the tension in his arm, his muscles working against the bow's force... and then he closed his eyes for a brief moment, thinking of a charging Gigataur, and when his eyes opened, a stone construct in the shape of the gigantic demon bulls was running at him through the sky with its fangs open in a silent scream.

Killer lips crested in a grin at the sight, and he let his energy flow down his arm and fingers, golden, blazing light erupting from his digits and easily taking up the shape of a slender, deadly arrow with the sizes of a javelin, electricity crackling around its triangular blade... And then he let go, and he gaped in surprise at the fearsome strength of the throw as the arrow shot forwards at literally supersonic speed, sending a loud crack resounding in the sky, before the Gigataur of stone was battered backwards like a fly and crumbled into pieces.

"Amazing." The huge male breathed after a moment, smiling as he handed the formidable weapon back to the muscular female, looking over the huge bow with longing. "It truly has no rival."

Manticora nodded, smirking a bit as she pushed the window closed and walked back to the wardrobe, giving the weapon back to the greedy gauntlets of the security system. "The tree from which the bows are made is sacred. The Seraphims keep an Eons-old register containing the information and location of every single tree discovered in Heaven, and there are wandering priests always traveling through the skies to keep an eye on the known trees, and look around for new ones. They are a true treasure... there's more Seraphims than bows, and this despite the fact that many of our bows have been with us for Eons, being passed on from Seraphim to Seraphim. The selection process for being assigned a bow is incredibly rigorous... these are very, very precious weapons. And as you've just experienced, it takes some quite extraordinary strength to use them. Especially when rapid and prolonged fire is required, and you have to throw tens of aimed shots per minute."

Killer nodded in agreement, before smiling as Manticora squeezed at his huge bicep teasingly, bumping her nose against his as she said softly: "Of course, that is not a problem in the slightest for you... But you know what? You've improved a damn lot. You are learning to Create almost anything you want. It took you no effort to create full-scale Simulacrums of Gigataurs. And you made them with Lodestone, which is an incredibly complex material to create due to that very same tightly-knit molecular structure that makes it so heavy, hard, and impervious to magic. It is an extraordinary feat." She paused, looking at him adoringly for a long few moments, before nodding slightly as she stared into his eyes and added: "Your power is incredible. You seem to hold simply unlimited potential... But it must be admitted: Ira has a lot of merit in your incredibly quick progress. She's proving a great mentor. And while I envy her for being chosen as your teacher... I really admire and respect what she's done and doing with you. I truly do regret treating her so coldly and hostilely for so many centuries. I was so stupid and arrogant..."

Manticora looked down to the floor, blushing and making a grimace of distaste at the memory of what she had done, and Killer looked down at her silently for a few moments, before gently pushing her face back up, gently pushing under her chin with his hand. "Errors of the past. Mistakes you have every chance to correct. By now you two are friends, and close ones indeed, and it pleases me immensely to see that. You'd lose out on a lot, keeping away from Ira's friendship and skills and company... And Ira truly does not deserve to be the outcast just because she was born a demon. She's a wonderful person, and indeed a great example and mentor: I'm honored, and delighted, of being her friend."

"I understand..." Manticora agreed softly, smiling and nodding. "When you made me look at her with my eyes, and not with the eyes of the arrogant daughter of Typhoon, princess of Heaven... well. You opened my eyes. And Ira's been good with me, always ready to help, always willing to be around for me. I'm glad myself of how close we now are. I just regret treating her so coldly, for so long. Making her suffer, and losing out on so much myself."

"You apologized, though. And I know Ira has gladly forgiven you, and the other Seraphims as well." Killer gently reminded, before nodding a bit to himself as he added: "Although now we should really run. If Ira discovers that we are still here lazing around and playing instead of going out to meet William, friends or not she's going to set our asses on fire. Literally."

Manticora winced, even as she shoved the wardrobe closed, before turning to him with a little nod as she said quickly: "Yeah, good point. We'd better. Sneak out unheard. Rapidly."

Killer followed Manticora easily across a portal, stepping out into a prairie, luscious grass tall enough to reach the huge male's hip surrounding them on all sides and a cool, gentle breeze blowing in his mane as he looked around himself with a slight smile. The Meadows, or Elysian Fields, were mentioned in the mythology of almost all countries of the mortal world, and with particular insistence in the religion of the Northlands, Kesteven included. The First Sky, the mythical fields, was the Heaven of Heroes, the place to which honorable warriors ascended at the end of their lives.

Many back at home would have given anything in order to access the Meadows, and the fabled Hall of Heroes, the wonderful palace where the mightiest, greatest heroes of the world were said to enjoy their eternity. Being there, in the middle of it all, still left Killer pleasantly confused, wondering if he was dreaming or if it was true, as he looked around himself curiously, amazed by the sight of fresh-born grass and wheat spreading over miles and miles of prairie and gentle slopes, with a few enormous trees here and there, reaching as far as the eye could see, in every direction but to the west, were, far away on the horizon, he could guess the imposing towers of the Wall, the insuperable barrier which protected Heaven from the monstrosities of the Middle Sea and from the attacks of Hell's forces.

Manticora waited patiently for a few moments, looking at him softly as she stood at his side, smiling with affection and amusement as she saw the impatience and curiosity and amazement in his eyes.

"You must be quite eager to meet your old friend." The zebra finally commented, as she gently touched his shoulder and they walked onwards, soon stepping onto a simple, narrow path hidden by the tall grass.

"I am... I've long dreamed to meet William again. And I've got countless debts to him: he's been my bodyguard when I was a young kid-prince, and he was my mentor and guide for a long time. He had... a huge role in shaping me." He paused, and then smiled slightly as he nodded and corrected himself: "In shaping the good part of me. And he's been around for a long, long time. He was a consummated veteran already when I was a child, and he was still fighting when I was a king. He died where he lived most of his time, on the battlefield... and did so to protect me, shielding me from gunfire coming from an attack helicopter. I owe him worlds. And I'm continuing to ask myself how he might have changed in all these years in Heaven, while knowing that he'll still be the very same William I've always admired."

"You won't be disappointed." Manticora said softly, smiling as they reached a fork in the path, with one even narrower path continuing ahead of them, while another turned right and vanished in the distance, past a low, gently sloped hill. "This is where the path of heroes and the road of cowards part ways... only the heroes can walk onwards, on the narrow course that reaches the Hall."

Killer gazed ahead, following the narrow path's course up a small hill, seeing it vanishing down the other side, and he frowned a bit as he asked: "And what does prevent people from just... walking on?"

"You still have an amusing attitude of forgetting that you are in Heaven, and that supernatural here is norm, not exception." Manticora replied amusedly, crossing her strong arms on her chest and grinning slightly. "There's an energy barrier in place. It can't be seen... but when anyone tries to walk through, it is able to scan the very soul and heart, and judge the value of the person. If the soul is not pure, not worthy of the title of hero, the person trying to walk across the barrier is slammed backwards. Rather harshly."

Killer nodded hesitatingly, looking ahead as if searching for the barrier that, he knew well, he just wasn't going to easy discover, and he asked mildly: "Have you considered the possibility that I might very well be repelled...? I'm not exactly your model of knight in shining armor."

"We know well who you are, Lord Killer. And we went through this more than once already... for all your darkness, there is also light in you, it is your choice that truly matters. You are the Amon-Ra, Master. The Hall of Heroes has practically been built for you." Manticora gently answered, taking his hand in hers and smiling reassuringly before quietly leading him forwards, as the male continued to look uncertain.

He felt it clearly when he stepped through the invisible, magic barrier: he felt something quickly brush through the pages of his memory, and he felt gentle fingers wonder in his mind, his stomach clenching at the weird, alien sensation, as he suddenly realized that there was no secret that would stay hidden from whatever ancient, great power was scanning him... And then he winced as energy crackled around his massive form and he felt a brief but intense burning heat against his body.

Manticora turned to him in surprise, staring in confusion and shock at the sight of little bolts of lightning arching around his chiseled body, even as he walked through the barrier: she had been entirely unfazed, while he had been allowed in with more than one hesitation... And then the huge male's eyes bulged and searched for Manticora's ones with a silent question that the zebra could not answer to as a gentle, feminine voice announced: "Your Destiny is far from set. Your future is yet to write. Your darkness is impenetrable, but your light can pierce through any cloud. And your heart has chosen the Right path to follow."

Killer straightened, taking a breath as he looked at Manticora's astonished face, the female looking in disbelief towards the source of the voice, behind his back... and he wondered for a moment, between fear and curiosity, what could amaze the Seraphim that much, before turning back slowly, his mouth opening in a slight gape at the sight of a translucent, glowing ghost made of energy, in the perfect, seductive shape of a dragoness with eyes that were pits of blazing white light.

She was tall, slender and toned. She had long, seductive legs ending in bare feet with curved, sharp talons, and she only wore a simple, very short chainmail skirt made of tiny but strong rings of silvery Godblood, which protected her groin and hips and back, but stretching not at all far down under the perfect shape of her firm buttocks. Her abdomen was armored with strong, chiseled abdominals, and large, proud breasts barely hidden by a silvery chainmail bra sat firm and gravity-defying on her chest. A choker of gold and precious stones covered and protected her throat, and she had two pauldrons of silver, shaped into the muzzles of large male lions roaring, their manes flowing backwards as if in a wind. Her face had serene, beautiful features, young and feminine, but her burning eyes without pupils were fearsome in their ability of seeing through everything. They made Killer feel like he was naked, and holding his soul out in his hands, shaped into an open book telling of all his thoughts, aspirations, secrets and fears. Rising up the back of her neck, all the way to her forehead, was a row of sharp, blade-like fins, crescent shaped and curved forwards, which almost reminded Killer of his own Mohawk somehow... and together with that crown of fins, the dragoness sported long, loose scales in place of hair, giving her a wonderful, fiery look, even as she kept her hands on her lap, looking down at Killer with affection as she levitated several feet into the air.

Her long tail, which halfway down its length separated into two, was ridged with other blade-like fins, and both tails terminated into deadly bone harpoons, sharp and vicious.

"Lord Killer... I'm so sorry that I didn't live long enough to meet you in person, after waiting for you every day of my life. After seeing glimpses of you, of your future, of the wonders that you will accomplish." The female softly said, smoothly gliding forwards towards him and putting her hands on his shoulders as she looked down at him with a smile, the huge male gazing back without fear, but with amazement and confusion, especially as he somehow felt her touch... and at the same time, he didn't.

"Lady... Azura...?" The huge male hesitatingly asked, his eyes widening as he stared upwards into hers, his heart missing a beat with the excitement and amazement of his deduction, with the eagerness to get an answer from her... and the dragoness smiled silently, before giving the slightest of nods. The Goddess of Death, the beloved adoptive mother of Ira, the prophetess who had first announced the end of the universe and its salvation by Amon-Ra, the legendary hero, the above-gods warrior, was in front of him somehow, speaking to him from beyond the barriers of her death, smiling down at him with affection.

"You are all I expected you to be, and even more, Amon-Ra. I am sure that your determination will not falter. I'm sure that you will save the universe from destruction."

"How...?" Killer asked, unable to restrain himself, and the Goddess smiled with soft amusement which was also tinged with quiet sadness, as she shook her head slowly and answered:

"I can't know. You are the writer of your Destiny, and you will shape it with your choices. I can only see the... general direction of the future, so to speak. But you are the one who writes it."

"It's a massive responsibility to shoulder, Goddess..." Killer quietly said, and Azura gazed at him with sympathy, hugging him closer to her chest, ethereal and yet real, a ghost and yet somewhat tangible.

"It is the biggest of burdens, I know. But that's because it falls on you: you're the only one with shoulders broad enough to take such a responsibility." Azura explained, pausing for a brief moment before smiling as she moved a rebel bang of his mane out of his eyes. "I know it's hard. But know this, Lord Killer: I'm relieved to have you at the wheel. You have that look in your eyes, which tells me that you won't allow anything to stop you... and at the same time, I see your worries, your determination in making sure that you keep yourself on a leash. I wouldn't trust anyone else to do the right thing with such power at his disposal, not even Elelyon, in all his kindness and wisdom... Let your heart guide you, Killer. You made your choice long ago now, to use your power not to destroy, but to protect and create. That is now your vow. And I know you will stick to it."

Killer didn't reply, only letting her words sink deep inside his soul, like the notes of a soothing lullaby of hope. Azura was just another reason not to give in, another friendly face he did not want to disappoint. That was what kept him going: the thought of his loved ones.

"We will all help you stick to your vow, keeping the route even in the worst seas." Azura promised, stretching a hand out towards Manticora, who did not hesitate to take it, letting the goddess lead her to Killer's side even as she stared at the ghost with amazement.

The huge male smiled softly as he felt the zebra's arms wrapping around his waist, Manticora pushing gently into his back and kissing the side of his neck reassuringly, and he looked up to Azura with eyes full of gratitude even as he gazed over her, and through her translucent spirit.

"What... how... can you talk... when...?" He awkwardly asked, hesitating in embarrassment, until Azura shook her head with a smile and said simply:

"When I'm dead, yes. Well, I've discovered that death is not at all the whole thing. I've been able to avoid the Unworld, at least for now, so I'm dead, but not finished... I've walked further down the line. I've gone... beyond." She smiled softly, tenderly rubbing her hands over his shoulders as she gazed down at him with affection, and added: "If I can talk to you like this, it is because I was the one enchanting the barrier of the Hall of Heroes, so many Eons ago. My energies still make it work... and I can connect to my energies through the universe, even if briefly, even if it leaves me exhausted afterwards. It's an immense distance in space, time and dimensions that I'm overcoming... and I can't stay long. But I absolutely wanted to let you know that I'm with you. And that your worries over your lusts, over your hunger for power, are merely the confirmation of just how firm a choice you have made. Monsters do not worry, Lord Killer."

"Thank you, Azura... Ira will be so glad to hear that you are... well. Not gone. And I'm immensely glad of it myself." Killer said, smiling at the goddess with affection, as the dragoness breathed Ira's name with longing.

"Let her know, Lord Killer, that I've not forgotten her, and never will. Let her know that I'm proud of her, of all she's become. That I watch her from the distance..." The goddess paused, wincing and then looking down at her feet with a sigh, seeing that she was quickly fading from view, as Killer looked down in shock and horror, shaking his head in denial. "I don't have much time left. Tell her this: that she is the daughter I always dreamed, and never had. And I wish we could have been a family, I wish we could have been together for much, much longer time."

"I promise I will." Killer replied firmly, nodding with determination, holding Azura's hand even as her legs and waist faded from sight.

"Tell Ira to bring you to the statue, she will know where to go... I'll meet you again there, once I've recovered some energy. There is something I want to give you." Azura added, even as her chest faded away, her neck dissolving quickly as Killer stared... and he nodded quickly as the goddess smiled one last time and breathed a loving goodbye, before vanishing in a few motes of energy that quickly dissipated entirely, leaving him looking over the path ahead, his hand falling down to his hip as he closed his eyes with a sigh.

"This... this was unexpected." Manticora observed after a few moments, and Killer nodded, looking amused as he replied:

"You're telling me!"

The zebra snorted and shoved him lightly, before saying seriously: "I miss Azura's times. She was wise, compassionate, and I liked her infinitely more than the usurper, Thanatos. Everyone liked her more, in fact. And everyone was a lot more comfortable with Death in her hands."

"The one who misses those times the most, is Ira..." Killer said softly, even as they traded a gaze and walked up the steep, narrow path. "Azura saved Ira from being executed in Hell, and... she was the best family Ira ever had."

Manticora nodded silently, curious to learn more, but at the same time moved to respectful silence, as she thought of the past, of when Ira was training to become a Seraphim, and she was the proverbial outcast. Manticora sure hadn't been of any help for the demoness back then, and indeed, when Ira had quickly climbed the ranks pyramid within the Army of Seraphims and reached the second-highest step, surpassing the zebra among others, she had been full-out hostile. A mistake that she was now regretting sincerely.

"She said she wants to meet me again... with Ira present. I know Ira will love to hear of this... and she said she wants to give me something, too. Do you have any ideas of how that will work out...?" Killer asked after a moment, looking thoughtful and impatient, his curiosity awakened and his thoughts rumbling around in his mind as he tried to figure out what it might have been.

"I have a good enough idea of what Statue Azura was referring to... It's in Lemuel, the Town of Trees. But I might be wrong, and I have no idea what she might give us. For sure, whatever it turns out being, it will be a precious gift. One that can help you for real. I've seen Azura very, very keen on letting you have that, and she's not one for waste of time."

Killer nodded silently, and Manticora looked at him with a soft smile, before turning to look ahead as they walked onwards in quiet silence, the huge male looking thoughtful and assorted in unpleasant thoughts, the muscular female supportive but preferring to let him think things out on his own for the moment.

"You know, I feel like a usurper myself, at times." Killer muttered after a long silence, and Manticora looked up in surprise at this, staring at the huge male as he half-kicked at the ground angrily as they walked on. "I feel like I'm getting far too great and undeserved attention... the Seraphims already call me Master, and I haven't even been allowed to contribute to the fight at all yet. And it feels like I'm stealing from Elelyon, and that I'm doing it behind his back, while he is away for protecting us all from threats bigger than we can even imagine."

"But Lord Killer, you are stealing nothing." The muscular female softly replied, shaking her head slowly and looking entertained. "The Seraphims were always supposed to serve the Amon-Ra. It has been Written in the stars at the beginning of Time... and we've looked at you since you were born. We've followed all of your victories, cheered you on for all your progresses, and we've looked forwards to having you among our ranks, every single moment. And how can you say you didn't contribute to our struggle, Lord Killer, when it's only because of you that the Mortal World is not falling apart? It was you who took Fenrir down. You who ended Regina's reign of terror. You who slaughtered the demon army in Argolis. You forget your victories far too easily."

"The way Heaven treated you, all along, and the way you carried on regardless, only increased our respect and veneration for you. And you proved yourself before the Gods, overcoming their Trials. You took on the Metatrons. You brought harmony in our ranks, and forced us all to realize that we were fools in our hostility to Ira. And you stand before even Typhon and the Council in order to protect us. How could we not love you...?"

"I did nothing special." Killer replied after a moment, and Manticora rolled her eyes upwards with a snort, grinning as she asked:

"Are you trying to be cool, or what...? Every single feat in that list was absolutely extraordinary, admit it or not. Listen." She seized his shoulder, forcing him to stop and making him turn towards her to look into his eyes seriously. "None of us has forgotten Elelyon. We still serve God, we still protect his Creation. He is like a loving father for us all. We are not turning our backs on Him... yet, you are our Master now. Like daughters, we do not forget the father, but the day comes in which we find our lover."

"You make it sound more sexual than it should." Killer replied amusedly, grinning teasingly down at her, and Manticora smirked back gamely, rubbing a hand down his powerful chest and nodding slightly as she admitted:

"If I said there wasn't a sexual dimension to this, I'd be lying. Angels or not, we are females first of all... and you are ultimate male power personified... It obviously means something."

"I look forwards to learning the whole meaning, then." Killer teased, smiling amusedly as they walked up on top of the small hill, and Manticora grinned in anticipation, even as they continued to walk onwards, descending on the other side, and now in full view of the Hall of Heroes.

It left Killer stunned, staring in amazement at the greatness of the place. The Hall of Heroes was a monumental palace built on a long, rectangular base made of enormous blocks of lucid white marble, with enormous steps all around leading up to a colonnade of hundreds of massive, tower-like pillars. The front of the temple, immense and imposing, had two enormous, triangular tympanums decorated with statues easily twice as tall as real people. The two tympanums leaned on the same massive architrave, and they stood side by side, separated by a tall, proud gothic bell tower in the middle. At the other end of the miles-long temple, the sloped roofs connected into the base of a gigantic cupola, resting on a circular tower with large, luminous arched windows of stained glass, all depicting scenes of heroism and struggle. The roof of the temple, Killer saw, was made entirely with shields, of all shapes and sizes, and not by tiles, just as an ancient legend of the Northlands said.

The magnificent cathedral seemed to glow like a star, glinting with the energies of the heroes from all countries and all ages that here had their eternal home. As Killer and Manticora walked towards the entrance to the table - double golden doors that had to be over 150 feet in height, enormous and covered entirely in finely chiseled images of battles, visible past the forest of huge columns in the colonnade -, the huge male's eyes continued to scan over the gigantic palace. It humbled him, and he felt honored to be in such a famous, dreamed-of place: the greatest men in history had walked past those doors and over the noble marbles, and their wisdom, strength and authority radiated out of the temple itself. It was tangible, it burned in the air. This was a very special, unique place, permeated with ancient and formidable energies.

It was only after a few more long moments of awed contemplation that Killer allowed his eyes to move to the large groups of troops training in a gigantic square area where the grass had long been destroyed by hundreds of feet stomping, marching, running. The hard court was constantly tormented by the feet of soldiers and warriors, alone, in groups and in large formations, who trained to sharpen their skills in battle, and the dust never settled on it.

At the moment, Killer noticed, several small groups of soldiers were scattered here and there, battling with swords, spears and bare hands, grappling in ferocious no-rules sparring matches, while a much larger formation, probably numbering one hundred or so, was practicing company-level coral maneuvers, advancing in a solid, rigid formation holding up enormous rectangular shields that formed an impenetrable barrier of glowing, energized Godblood. The energy clinging to the surface of each shield immediately suggested to Killer that touching one would have been a bad idea, even if he did not know what exactly would happen.

He easily noticed that most of the warriors in the phalanx were tigers, and one quick look was enough to recognize several faces from his past... he wasn't sure he could still connect the features to the right names, but he had definitely fought with, and commanded, many of the soldiers training in the court.

The shields, he finally saw, were all marked with the drawing of golden laurel wreaths around the number 30 in the ancient writing, XXX. The feared 30th Legion, the angel division that William commanded, the "Shield Bearers".

And the arkangel with four mighty wings of steel feathers walking from a group to the other to correct any wrong movement and deliver lessons, had to be William.

Killer looked to the arkangel with a lump in his throat, eager to meet his old mentor, and full of respect and gratitude for him, as he took to the changes in him with amazement. William had grown, in height and bulk: his already considerable height and strong build had both improved massively, and he now stood nearly 18 feet tall, his body bulging with strong muscle. He was wearing heavy, thick boots of polished steel, armed with cruel blades on the toes, in the style of those commonly used by the Predators back at home in Kesteven. The boots protected the lower legs as well, covering almost all the way up to knees, and he wore cuisses of silvery steel decorated with chiseled golden laurel leaves around the edges, giving protection to muscular thighs full of energy and built for agility and strength. Over the cuisses, William had strapped two leather holsters which held two massive handguns, ready for the job... And William had always been an incredibly fast drawer. A belt of segmented steel tassels wrapped around his waist, holding up protective plates that covered his groin, hips and back, and he also carried two swords at the sides, two twin, double-edged broadswords in sheaths of leather and steel. His abdomen was left exposed, showing strong, chiseled abdominals that were covered by long, large scars, which went all the way up to vanished under the thick breastplate protecting his masculine chest and his upper back.

As William turned to unceremoniously grab the wrist of a soldier and show him the right way to use his sword, guiding his movements, Killer saw the scars on the exposed lower back of his mentor: these had very clearly been caused by gunfire, and they were the terrible signs of the huge, devastating wounds that had killed William, back during the ferocious fighting in Kesteven.

Scars aside, William was clearly stronger than he had ever been in life: he had the energy of his long lost youth, and much more. He had improved under every aspect, and Killer had absolutely no doubt on the value of the 30th Legion. He knew first hand William and his teaching methods: the soldiers he trained were always first-class, and they had been exposed to such ferocious exercises that most wars felt to them like walks in the park.

Killer smiled amusedly to himself, even as he gave a look to the large pauldrons protecting the tiger's shoulders, both engraved with the insignia of the Legion, before his eyes gazed over the thick chains wrapped all around William's muscular arms, wrapped tightly around huge, bulging biceps and feeding down into armored vambraces protecting the tiger's forearms all the way down to the wrists.

The underside of each vambrace was adorned with two parallel blade-hooks, each twin-bladed weapon having a handle that was connected to the chains wrapped around the arm: Killer was sure that, in any moment, William could unlock the weapons from the vambraces, take them in his hands, and be terribly effective with them. The chains would give him huge reach and endless possibilities to use the hooks to inflict the greatest possible damage to the highest possible number of enemies in the shortest possible time... particularly if the chains are imbued with a spell that allows them to grow in length to adjust to the needs of the moment. And undoubtedly, they are.

Killer turned to Manticora with a proud smile, delighted by how his old mentor had not only kept his formidable skills up, but actually increased them exponentially, and Manticora nodded in amusement, smiling softly as she reminded: "I told you that you would like it. William is one of very few arkangels that is liked even by Seraphims. When we have worked together, he's always been impeccable, and his Division is without doubt the most efficient and effective in the whole of Heaven."

Killer nodded, smiling a bit to himself and thinking of just how much that meant, coming from Manticora: Arkangels and Seraphims were the two real elite corps in Heaven, and the rivalry between them was ferocious and as old as the world. Every military elite corps is supposed to be the best in the field, after all, so none will accept that someone else is on par, or better... Besides, a special military force needs not just to be the best: it also absolutely needs to believe without a doubt that it is the best there is. Elite soldiers cannot step into battle against enemy forces with overwhelming numeric advantage if they do not believe firmly that they will kick the enemy's ass. Hesitation is devastating. There's no room in war for hesitation.

And that wasn't the end. It wasn't just a matter of being the best warriors: Seraphims and Arkangels could not be friends also because, while Seraphims were normally the best warriors, it was Arkangels who occupied all positions of power within Heaven's structure.

Arkangels such as Michael were Ruling Princes of the 7 Skies, and Arkangels were the commanders of the Divisions of angels of Heaven's army, and Gabriel, king of Arkangels, was also the supreme commander of Heaven's forces.

Seraphims were only used as killers, with pretty much none of them allowed into the decision-making process. Vesta herself, even as Queen, was given little actual power when it came down to running Heaven.

As an obvious consequence, not many Arkangels had the Seraphim's respect: one of the rare exceptions was Gabriel, who luckily was a fair and competent leader for Heaven's forces, and another was William, who had gained the Seraphims' respect with his value of warrior, with his honesty as person, and with the incredibly high quality of the troops he trained and led.

Killer and Manticora walked onto the hard court, and the huge male started to receive Kesteven military salutes from all directions as his comrades of the past recognized him and smiled at him and showed their never-ending dedication and loyalty, making him proud and grateful and amazed at the same time. Amazed, because of their dedication, even after their death, even after so many years. Proud, because it meant that he had probably done at least something right in his life. And grateful, over everything, for their support, for the awareness than he was not alone.

Killer and Manticora traded an amused look as they came close enough to hear William's voice as the arkangel stood in front of a very embarrassed horse holding a broadsword at the ready, the huge tiger slapping a hand on his breastplate and shouting: "... come at me swinging like that, come on, try it. I'll show you why it is stupid, if you don't get it on your own!"

The horse hesitated, his cheeks burning red as he looked around himself with clear embarrassment, until he finally resolved to charge forwards as William put his hands on his hips and looked down at him impatiently. The horse cocked his sword back to strike, and Killer shook his head slowly: it was a wrong and exaggerated movement, which left his side entirely exposed and only really gained him a questionable increase in the force of the blow. It was the worst possible way to use a sword, and the huge male only snorted in amusement as William's hand shot down to seize the handle of his own sword, drawing it out in a smooth arc that brought the blade directly against the horse's hip.

The soldier frozen in place immediately, looking down in shook... and William pulled his blade back, shaking his head slowly: "That's how swords are used in the movies, not on the battlefield: you cannot leave yourself wide open for attack just to deliver a slash, otherwise you won't last a second. Use your legs, they are-"

"- they are the part of your body that will gain you the victory." Killer completed the phrase with a smile, and William turned back to look at him with surprise and delight, smiling widely as he nodded.

"Exactly. Use your whole body to put force in your blows: it starts from the legs. You have to move to avoid the blows, and you have to push your sword with the force of your whole body, from the feet upwards. But, for gods' sake, never swing your blade around like a child again. Life is not a movie: while you throw your war scream and pull your sword up over your head to strike the enemy down, he'll just stab forwards and kill you. Just like that." William paused, looking pointedly down at the horse, and the soldier nodded and straightened into attention, with a loud 'sir, yes sir!'. William nodded tiredly, shoving his blade back down in its sheath as he turned towards a nearby tiger wearing thick plated armor and carrying a huge spear and shield, and called out to him to come and train the newcomer.

"Start from the basics." William whispered in the soldier's ear as he passed by, and the tiger nodded imperceptibly as he headed out to the horse.

William walked towards Killer instead, smiling as the huge male liger stepped forwards and threw his arms out, hugging his former mentor to his chest with affection. William had been a big brother for Killer when he was a kid. He had been his bodyguard and mentor, and they had spent a lot of time together. Now, meeting him again was a true blessing.

"Don't ever die on me again, you bastard." Killer teased, and William snorted amusedly, shoving him backwards playfully.

"It's good to see you, Killer. Try to keep it good for at least a few minutes." William said, before bowing his head to Manticora as he saluted her, the Seraphim smiling back quietly. Then the tiger turned back to Killer, looking up in his eyes with attention, and he scanned him from head to toe, nodding a bit to himself at the end. Killer, on the other hand, smiled to himself as he saw with pleasure that the smart, bright brown eyes of his mentor hadn't changed, but only gained the glint of even greater energy and determination. His handsome features were also younger, showing him the image of the William that he hadn't known in life.

"You are taller, bigger, and stronger. You've been training a lot, clearly." Killer observed, and William nodded, before punching the liger's chest firmly as he replied:

"Fact is, you've grown even further yourself, so in the end I'm still the bodyguard who can hide behind the back of the one I'm supposed to protect. You look every bit like the God you are, and I'm glad for it."

"I also do not remember you being a show-off." Killer teased, grinning a bit as he punched William's exposed abs lightly, and the tiger looked down with a soft laugh, nodding in agreement, before he looked up and explained:

"You've known me when I was already old, though, while now I feel young, stronger than ever before, and full of vigor. Had I known that death would do this to me, I would have tried to die earlier. It isn't at all as bad as they say."

"Your scars stayed, though." Killer observed, and William shrugged, grinning a bit as he said:

"There are a few new ones too. But they don't look that bad either. They make me 20% cooler with the ladies. But with you around now, I'll be back to the role of wallpaper, like the other boys."

"I'll try and leave some for you. A favor to an old friend." Killer replied playfully, smiling as he wrapped a huge arm around the Arkangel's shoulders as they looked over to the horse from earlier, who was now getting lectured by the muscular soldier chosen as trainer.

"So, I bet that horse is a Fucking New Guy. Doesn't seem to be first-class material to work with, either." Killer observed after a moment, and William made a bit of a face as he nodded in agreement.

"That FNG falls under the heading "fresh meat". If he goes into battle now, he's like meat tossed in a grinder. He's absolutely not ready, so I'm trying to prepare him, and make him learn. But we haven't got much time for that, undoubtedly we will be called out again soon... and frankly, I shouldn't be teaching the basics. He's supposed to have already been trained at the angel's academy, but that place is a mess. The casualty replacements that they send are all like that boy: unprepared and useless. We've reached the breaking point: whenever I lose an experienced soldier, I get a second-rate replacement who dies long before having a chance to become experienced."

"They are cutting back on the training for the angels." Manticora admitted, grimacing. "Most instructors have been sent back on the frontline as officers, and the ones left have been asked to dramatically cutback training time, as the need for new soldiers rises much faster than the training output. And these are the results."

"Mathematics of defeat." William bitterly remarked, and Killer nodded in silence, even as he turned over the large company, mainly made up of tigers, exercising in battlefield maneuvers with the huge shields.

"I see that many old faces are here, though, and they know their stuff well."

"I wish we had more of our old comrades here. Some of them have died in the battles here in Heaven, many more have ended up in Hell, either because they deserved it, or, more frequently, because several Reapers have sided with Hell and are working to bring all souls down there. At least, most of our comrades in Hell are doing their best to go into hiding, and otherwise avoid being sent to war against us." William explained, turning to the side as well to look with a proud smile over the Shield Bearers. "There are boys from Kesteven, from Kendrew, from Glacial and even from Mottram: many of the soldiers who fought for Riaku in Kesteven now are here, and they are eager to make up for their errors. Unfortunately, not everyone is here in the Legion, though: Gabriel is doing his best to send everyone here, so we can get the most out of our comradeship, of our shared training and military experience, but the Council does not want your supporters to be concentrated together, and is working to keep us separated. There are guys serving all over Heaven's army, even if the largest group is concentrated here. That's meant to make it harder for you to call on us and rally us together against the Heavenly Council."

"Separated we are weaker, of course." Killer agreed, before noting with amusement: "You've already been informed, then, of how things are evolving."

"Not really, it's been a few days from the last time I was updated on things, even if we keep in touch however we can. The problem is that there's no real way to hide from the Metatrons, they see everything. Satellites, back home, couldn't read minds and could be tricked with some smartness and good calculations, but there's no way to keep these bastards in the dark." William replied calmly, before he gazed up to Killer with a grin and added: "You should have ripped them all apart. I head you nearly flattened The Gates during a brawl with forty Metatrons. On you first day in Heaven."

"What can I say... my biggest talent is in making friends." Killer snorted, rolling his eyes upwards a bit, even as he grinned slightly.

"So it seems... you've also beaten up Rogue, crushed Michael into pulp, and decimated the Righteous. Rumors are that you were as big as a mountain during the latter fight, and that you squished the enemy commander into liquid under your cock, no less..." William added, turning to him with a curious arch of his eyebrow, looking into his eyes to try and guess if it was true.

"Yeah, well... depends on the size of the mountain." Killer replied mildly, and William snorted amusedly, shaking his head slowly, while Manticora grinned widely, before announcing: "This morning he's faced Typhon, too. And... that's part of why we are here."

"You are making friends with too many, too quickly, Killer." William observed, making a grimace as he thought of the few times he had seen Typhon himself. "Holy hell, your strength must have truly increased to prodigious levels for you to be here making dumb jokes after having grappled with such a monster. Normally, those who get on Typhon's wrong side end up squished."

"Killing me is not easy." Killer replied, shrugging lightly as he smiled a bit, before pausing and looking over the horizon with a sigh, returning to seriousness. "But I made him real angry, and Vesta, Ira and Manticora here were part of the picture, so that he's angry with the Seraphims as well. We suspect that he will move quickly now to get rid of the Seraphims."

"So the day is coming." William mumbled, looking thoughtful and dropping his head forwards for a moment before looking back up, gazing from Killer to Manticora. "We should not talk here. Let's go inside, you'll tell me everything I need to know."

"And not a word more." Killer completed with a serious nod, and William pointed a finger at him with a tilt of his head, agreeing. It was a simple and common rule, valid in any and every word: in a covert operation, you only need to know the indispensable. The more you know, the more you can tell the enemy if you are captured and broken down.

William leaded Killer and Manticora away from the hard court and towards the huge steps of marble leading up to the colonnade of the temple, which looked even more titanic now, as it loomed directly above their heads, ancient and glorious. Columns as bit as towers, all in marble that expert hands had chiseled and modeled so many eons ago, stood proudly in an orderly forest, forming an ample cloister where the shadow was eternal. And Killer threw his head back as they walked up the stairs and walked under the tall, slender gothic tower, gazing in amazement over the many arches and statues and pinnacles, all the way up to the steep, sharp roof.

William gazed back at him from over his shoulder, smiling amusedly to himself: his reaction the first time he had arrived to the Hall hadn't been much different, after all. He still nudged Manticora lightly, though, and tilted his head towards Killer when she looked at him quizzically. The muscular female looked back as well, and nodded, looking amused, even as William paused for a moment in front of the enormous golden doors of the temple, waiting for Killer to arrive, as the huge male took his time walking past the four rows of gigantic columns, enjoying the cool shade of the colonnade, and looking up to the roof, so far above, with its golden panels from which hung lanterns of silver containing bright eternal flames of a warm sapphire color.

Killer closed his eyes for a moment, sighing as he thought of a much more important, much stronger sapphire flame, that of Alexis's fearsome power... and there she was, grinning in his mind, ready to strike, glorious and beautiful as her hands glowed with her burning energies. There wasn't a moment in which he did not thought of her, not a second in which he did not crave for her presence, for her touch, for her taste and feel. Centuries had passed from the last time he had been with her, and it made him wonder how he could still be alive.

He walked onwards a bit faster as he saw William and Manticora waiting for him near the doors, only to slow down again soon after as his eyes took in the sight of two gigantic statues on the sides of the door, each at least two hundred feet tall, and unmistakably depicting him, on the right of the door, and Alexis on the left, the muscular female grinning and with her powerful arms crossed on her chest, while the statue of the huge male glared down at whoever walked towards the doors, arms resting on the cross-guard of Wyvern as the gigantic sword was held point-down.

Killer stared in surprise at his, gaping a bit as he looked from one statue to the other, and then back again, before he shook his head slowly and asked: "You are kidding me, aren't you...?"

"Not at all." William replied easily, smiling amusedly as they walked up towards the titanic statue of Alexis, Killer looking up at the perfect sculpture with longing for the real love of his life, and the arkangel explained seriously: "The Hall of Heroes celebrates and welcomes the greatest heroes of the Mortal World... and you and Alexis certainly qualify, even without considering that, much as you try and forget about it, you are supposed to be the Amon-Ra, our rays of hope in the darkness."

Killer only grunted in response, making a bit of a grimace, before poking the enormous boot of Alexis with a finger, wincing as it passed through the sculpture and realizing that the "stone" was actually ethereal: he could even see the wall behind, if he looked carefully.

"That's a good thing, Killer." Manticora commented amusedly as he pulled back his finger and frowned. "The statue is ethereal because you and Alexis are still very much alive... these statues will become fully solid when your destinies are accomplished."

"In other words, they'll turn into solid stone when you two die and become residents here... or when you two prove to be the Amon-Ra by saving our asses from whatever the hell is going to happen when the shit ultimately hits the fan." William explained, looking at Killer with a teasing smile as he crossed his arms on his chest and nodded lightly. "So, if you want it solid, you know what to do."

"Yeah, well, ethereal will more than do for now, thank you." Killer replied, stepping back from the statue and rubbing a hand in his mane slowly as he looked up towards its face, amazed by how accurate the image was, with Alexis's 'I'm game' grin absolutely perfect. He then walked back to William, and shoved him teasingly off to the side, making him stumble with a grunt as he teased: "You must have your statue somewhere then, if I got the right idea of how this place works."

"Indeed, I have mine. It is part of the magic of this ancient place: when someone on the Mortal Plane shapes up to be a hero, this place rewards him with an ethereal statue and a place in Eternity. And then, one day, the statue becomes physical, as the guy dies and arrives here, to find out he's got a room warm and ready. Not bad at all." William easily answered, as they walked straight towards the immense double doors of solid gold, which opened without a sound, swinging inwards slowly and majestically to let them in. "Obviously my statue is much smaller. There are thousands of statues in the temple, but their sizes are commensurate to the bravery and virtue they celebrate, so that many statues will only be busts, and the full body sculptures will vary very much in their dimensions."

Killer nodded, but did not talk, as they walked inside the enormous temple and into a long, gigantic rectangular hall with an arched ceiling hundreds of feet above their heads. The room ahead was immense, literally a mile long, and probably longer still. There were no columns holding up the ceiling, which was a single, immense archway above them, making the space seem even more vast and welcoming. In the middle of the room, a rectangular table of dark, massive wood stretched from their end of the room to the far off opposite, and hundreds of comfortable chairs similar to thrones lined the two long sides. All around this, the floor of marble was covered with large, beautiful carpets which formed true islands all over the immense space, and each island had several large round tables surrounded with mountains of cushions, armchairs and sofas, several of them occupied by this or that famous hero of the past, relaxing.

Of course, Killer spotted also a lot of faces he could not at all recognize: there was, after all, people from all ages and from the whole mortal world in here, and not all heroes were necessarily famous, either: acts of supreme bravery and honor could happen not just on the battlefield, but outside of it too, in everyday life. And many such acts of gallantry often were forgotten, or never told, even those that took more courage than a desperate charge against overwhelming enemy forces.

Along the two sides of the immense room, slender columns of marble supported proud arches, and under each of these, full-size or larger statues of glorious heroes were located, facing out over to the tables, their eyes and features so perfect and expressive to look like real persons. Many statues glowed with energy, while others didn't, and Killer suspected that, sadly, the heroes represented by the latter were no longer around.

As William had said, there were many, many more statues of smaller size and glory: along the walls and all around the proud archways, the walls had niches filled with busts and smaller portraits of heroes from all times and worlds... and far, far down the room, at the opposite end from where they were standing, a wonderful, monumental staircase leaded to a half-moon shaped landing built inside a large apse with three tall, arched stained glass windows along the curved wall.

Even more light came in from above, from large crystal panels in the gigantic, glorious cupola Killer had seen from outside the temple, and all that light blessed another titanic and ethereal statue of the huge male and of Alexis, side to side in ready positions, holding their huge swords up and facing the enemy with snarling grins.

Killer snorted in amusement at this, both loving and hating the way Alexis and him were worshiped and glorified, instead looking over the two stair ramps leading left and right from the landing and up onto the two balconies. These walkways were looked over by further statues of heroes in archways, and by tens of other busts looking out of niches... while higher still up the side walls, enormous windows of stained glass let multicolored light filter in.

It was nothing short of majestic and awe-inspiring, and Killer darted gazes back and forth over the whole place as they walked to the right, towards a ramp of stairs which leaded onto the balcony. For once, his instinct took a bit of a back seat, and despite himself, he didn't automatically look out for possible threats and possible escape routes as he usually did whenever he entered a new area. Here he felt truly safe. It was more than a holy place, it was a true sanctuary of virtues and courage that ensured that there was no safer place in the universe. You could feel it in the air.

So, even his instincts quieted down: there was no need to search signs of a sniper's presence up on the tiny walkway at the base of the cupola, nor did he have to worry for the people sitting down in the sofas and on the cushions down in the hall as they walked down the balcony for a few minutes, passing statue after statue...

Until Killer blinked as they stepped by the statue of a bulky, muscular tiger wearing huge, spiked gauntlets with the shape of roaring lion heads at the wrists, so that it looked like the hands came out of the feline's throats. The statue glowed with warm and powerful energy, and the tiger was depicted grinning, but with eyes cold, focused and challenging, as if the hero depicted was standing in front of his next rival and was eager to strike him down...

"I know this guy, don't I...?" Killer wondered, frowning a bit as he put his hands at his hips and looked up at the statue thoughtfully, before turning towards William in search of help.

"You've never met him in person, as he's died long before you were born... But there's his same blood in your veins. You've seen him in portraits and statues back in Kesteven. He's on your genealogical tree." William easily replied, looking amused and pausing to see if Killer would remember the face, given the right hint.

"Taurus..." Killer said quietly, looking surprised. "So, there's an ancestor of mine here, too. The one who brought lion and dragon genes into the Huxley bloodline, no less."

"The source of the dragon genes, his wife, is also here." William added, smiling softly. Two heavy-hitters of the top class, they are. Taurus has long canceled my questions about the source of your prodigious strength, I must admit. God or not, you've gotten some of your power from him, there's no doubts. His punch is like a battleship broadside. Followed by the battleship itself ramming into you."

"Yeah, my father told me that Taurus has always been famous for his strength. Will I meet them...?" Killer said calmly, touching the statue of his ancestor curiously, tracing his fingers down the combat gauntlets as if to caress the lions they resembled.

"Well, possibly. But not today... They are both out in the field, leading their two angel Divisions. And the battlefield here is so vast, and the changes so sudden, that I have no idea where they might be deployed now." William answered, nodding as Killer observed: "Yeah, it is not like it used to be back at home. Moving an army from a region to another back home can require months, and such logistic efforts... while here, a Crack or a Portal can be opened almost anywhere, and just like that a battle jumps from a Sky to another one."

"You Huxleys make for an interesting family of charming, powerful males." Manticora teasingly observed, grinning in entertainment from where she stood in front of the large statue, looking up over Taurus with interest, nodding a bit to herself. "What's not to like, about you big guys...?"

"Yeah, well... my family makes for an interesting genetic mix. It gives us some handy advantages." Killer replied playfully, nudging her teasingly as he walked by, and the zebra snorted and grinned as she fell in step with him, putting her hand behind her head and stretching a bit as she added casually: "And the next generation comes with Godhood as well, thanks to you and Alexis."

Killer nodded silently, looking down for a moment and thinking of his beloved Dream, and of Anubis... daughter and son of him and Alexis, they were growing up fast and they already had showed incredible strength and other great abilities, but he hadn't honestly thought of it yet: they were gods, too, if he and Alexis were divinities. And his son and daughter would both grow up to have incredible, immense powers, which was both wonderful and a worrying potential source of trouble. For the cubs, and for everyone else.

He felt his heart sink at the thought of how many years - centuries, actually - had passed since he had kissed them goodnight for the last time, and then he felt the depression change into a sad but terrible rage. Against destiny, and against the Council, and the Metatrons, and Typhon, and whoever worked against him to make it all even more miserable by keeping him away from Alexis as well.

Manticora and William both noticed the darkness in his glare, and traded a look silently, letting Killer put some order in his thoughts and violent emotions as he followed their lead mechanically, not really looking around himself anymore. The huge male barely looked up as they arrived in front of William's own statue, a perfect portrait of him, in the same armor he was wearing, strong arms crossed on his chest, expression serious and eyes looking ahead, to the challenges of the future. He didn't comment when the arkangel touched the statue lightly, and this began to smoothly, silently slid to side, revealing a door in the back of the archway, which brought them right into William's small but comfortable room, which had a simple bed, a wardrobe of solid massive wood on the wall in front of the door, and a small table that doubled as desk, with a chair behind it and two in front of it. Save for a Predators flag that William had probably put together himself before putting it on the wall over the bed, there was little in terms of personalization of the spaces, but that was normal with him.

The arkangel pulled the chair out for Manticora, who smiled at him amusedly as she sat down, and then he took his place behind the table, while the statue slid back in place and closed them inside. William pointed a finger towards the ceiling, and Killer gazed up quietly to see several concentric circles of glowing runes carved in it, which together made the room as impervious to the Metatron's ears and eyes as it was possible. There was no real hiding in Heaven from their all-seeing eyes and minds, but the many layers of protection would have helped them not to be heard, at least for a while. With a bit of luck, they would have been able to exchange the critical info before the Metatrons would notice that a meeting was going on between high-interest subjects, in a protected room. Even the Metatrons would have needed some time to get past the several protective spells.

"Tell me, all I need to know."

Killer and Manticora nodded, and quickly summarized the events. They told William of the battle with Typhon, and of how they expected it to turn in a far worse clash which would finally ignite the flames that had been waiting for their moment hidden under the ashes. The Seraphims did not want to support the Council any longer and the Council did not want the Seraphims to defend an ideal of Heaven that they were doing their best to kill off. It obviously was a bomb waiting to go off.

They told him of the plans made for the evacuation of the Seraphim families, and treasures, and they also informed him about the terrible threat of the Psychic warrior that had nearly completely wiped out an entire division of angels.

William listened to them in silence, focused and cold, only tapping a finger on the tabletop, nervously, but silently, as he processed the information he was given and occasionally looked up to nod, but without interrupting, without making observations for the moment.

"I think this is going to be classified as a civil war, isn't it...?" William asked, when the story was finally told, as he smiled a sad, grim smile. "I've never fought a civil war before. At most, I was on FID (Foreign Internal Defense) missions to help this party or that in a country shaken by civil war."

"This time we'll be right in the middle of it." Killer muttered, nodding slightly as he crossed his arms on the table and rested his chin atop them. "It is going to be a terrible mess."

"For sure. But for once, Hell's forces are going to be handy... their constant attacks will buy us time." Manticora wisely observed, looking from one male to the other before saying firmly: "My father is an ass, but he is not stupid. He knows that he needs the Seraphims to fend off Hell, otherwise he'll lose the shiny heavenly reign he so craves."

"That's probably right... But what if Typhon is actually collaborating with someone in Hell, or even with Hell's High King in person? Can we exclude that, considering that we have our own agreements with a part of Hell? This war is way more murky and complex than any other. So much so, that we don't even have a clear idea of who the enemy exactly is." William wisely countered, leaning back in his chair and looking upwards, to the runes on the ceiling, as Manticora made a grimace, and then, after a moment of thought, nodded.

"We cannot exclude that, either."

"Even if he is in agreement with Hell's forces, he won't be able to sell to Heaven the story of the Seraphim's betrayal. Too many would never believe to his lies. Too many would never be fooled. And I'm sure he realizes this. He will have to be gradual in his attacks." Killer précised, eyes coldly looking down at the top of the table, as if he could see the future in it. "It will be an escalation. And he will try and build a casus belli, a compromising situation that he can show to Heaven as a Seraphims' betrayal. At that point, the real attack will come... and he's already planning and preparing for it, for sure."

"We'll have to be ready. Alcana must be informed as soon as possible. Vesta will warn Alexis, if she's not already done it. We need to inform everyone else we can trust." Manticora said, rubbing a hand over the knuckles of her fist, looking tense and ready and almost eager to go.

"I can take care of that. The 30th Legion will be ready for anything, and I will use my acquaintances in the army to ensure that a warning reaches our other comrades in the other divisions. I'll try my hardest to make sure that Taurus is informed, as well. Taurus and his queen are loved by their troops: if they side with us, and I'm sure they will, their divisions are likely to follow them, and give us considerable additional force." William added, tracing a small circle on the tabletop with his finger as he thought of the next moves. "Of course, the Council knows who Taurus is, and they know well who soldiers in the 30th. Indeed, they know everyone who is connected to you, Killer, and they will do their best to keep us apart... and tear us physically apart, too. That's why we have to warn everyone, quickly."

"Spare no effort for that. And if there's something I can do-"

"No, Killer. Warning the boys is not something you can do in person, and you know it well." William interrupted, smiling softly, and Killer sighed, nodding in agreement. It was true, of course... being seen by the Metatrons visiting his past comrades would only grow the risks even more, and attract even more hostility on the soldiers, the fallen Predators and warriors of the Northlands that were so loyal to be ready to step into battle once more, with and for their king and general. "What we need you to do is to train, and to bring all of your power out. Because without it, we can only go down. With a fight, with honor, and bringing a lot of bastards along with us, but we will die, if you don't take care of the big bosses. Typhon, for example... you've seen how strong he is. I don't like to say it, but I have to: either you manage to strike him down, or it's over, as no one else among us has a chance of doing it." William firmly said, looking into Killer's eyes with determination, looking for his inner reply through his irises, just like when Killer was a kid, and the arkangel was the veteran, the hero, the mentor.

Killer did not reply. He only nodded slightly, looking back with determination: his eyes told more than any word ever could. In them, William and Manticora saw all of the huge male's eagerness, impatience and determination for showing that he wasn't second to Typhon. He was second to none.

"There is also another thing we'll need you to do." Manticora said after a moment, smiling softly as she squeezed his hand in hers. "You'll have to create Sanctuaries, for yourself and for all the people we need to bring to safety. There's no real safety to be found in Heaven once the Council and the Metatrons turn against us for real: Eaglenest will never be an easy fortress to capture, but without the magic of the Metatrons protecting it, it will be a pale shadow of what it is now. That's why we need another power, a greater, even more glorious one, to give us a shelter were we can be safe."

Killer nodded, even as he felt his mouth dry all of a sudden. Creating a Sanctuary, of course, had to do with his divinity: it was a feat of power of tremendous proportions, as it meant either creating a pocket dimension, bending reality to his will, or creating whole planets, or even new galaxies, or, in a much less ambitious but still incredible show of might, pumping enormous amounts of his distinct energy into an existing locations, warping it to his whims and desires, changing the fabric of reality and the rules of Creation themselves to create a new, self-made divine kingdom.

He had been told about the process by Ira during their lessons, with Gaia explaining how it worked, but he of course had never tried to do anything like that, not even on a single room. But now, now he needed to do it, and as soon as possible, and on a huge scale: turning the whole of Eaglenest in his playground, a place where his will would have been supreme and unquestionable, where no one would have been able to escape his total control.

Inside his sanctuary, he was going to be pretty much almighty. And that was why he had never wanted to try before. What could he have done, with such unlimited power at his disposal...? The monstrosities he could accomplish in such a place, just to satisfy any of his dark whims went beyond imagination.

He had escaped the temptation, and avoided the responsibilities, for quite some time now. But he was not going to be able to escape for much longer: they needed a safe place, friends and lovers and people who looked at him for protection and assistance, and he wasn't going to disappoint them.

"Let the Metatrons lift their magic away, if they want. I'll make Eaglenest the strongest fortress ever to exist." Killer promised, looking into Manticora's eyes and giving her a firm nod of confirmation that she welcomed with a loving smile, squeezing his fingers tightly in her hand.

"We know you will... And we will make you stronger, and we will protect you, by becoming your Disciples." The zebra announced, lifting his hand up to her lips to kiss it lovingly, adding resolutely: "I want to become your Disciple, if you'll want me... if you'll agree to bless me so."

"I... it... it may be too soon for this, Manticora. I want to be sure to be in control of myself, of my powers, of my hungers and lusts, before I try and bless Disciples. You are aware of it, becoming a Disciple means changing, to a degree or another: and I don't want to warp my loved ones to suit a spike of dark lust. I love you the way you are, and I don't want you to be changed because of me." Killer replied, holding up a hand as if to stop her, before he smiled widely and touched her cheek softly with it, leaning closer to say: "But when I'm ready, if you'll really want to be with me, to become a Disciple, I will welcome you. I love you, Manticora."

"I love you more, Master Killer." The zebra easily replied, looking amused and delighted, as she pushed her cheek teasingly against his hand, seeking the contact, rubbing her muzzle against his palm and looking into his eyes adoringly. "And I can tell you right now... whenever you'll want, I'll be ready. I'm looking forwards to the day, master."

Killer smiled at her, touched, and then he straightened back in his seat, even as he her hold his hand in both of hers while he turned to William and asked: "Are the boys ready? Are you sure they'll be with us...?"

"They would be offended to hear you doubting of their loyalty." The arkangel easily replied, grinning slightly as he half-teased, half-reprimanded him. "They will all be game, I know they will. The guys from Kesteven and Glacial remember you well, and would gladly follow you all the way to Hell. They would jump with you in the Middle Sea, if you ever asked for it. They also feel like they have a big debt to you, for saving their countries... and the boys from Mottram, the ones who were killed while serving Riaku, are going to be just as loyal and precious. They also feel like they have a debt, and an even greater one, as they were the scourge of war which threw the kingdoms into darkness and misery, and they really want to make up for it. As for readiness... well. You know how we trained our soldiers. In Glacial and Mottram they don't tell jokes either, and many of the boys, I've trained myself here in Heaven. They are as ready as they can be."

"I'm glad to hear it. We'll need their help to bring to safety as many as we can, when things inexorably start to go to hell." Killer mumbled, making a bit of a grimace at the thought of what was to come.

"You know, they only had some hesitation back when you battled Riaku in Kesteven... in those days, we took turns to use our leaves to go to Restford and buy a few hours in the Observatory, to look down to the events on earth, to see how the war was going, and everyone, the Mottram's soldiers especially, I remember, were looking forwards to you tearing Riaku apart, with all the misery he had caused... for how he had dragged them into such a terrible mess, and pushed them to commit such crimes with his lies." William quietly said, gazing up at him curiously. "There was some real disappointment when you allowed him to live on... But it probably was the right choice: since then, Riaku has truly changed a lot. And he's trying hard to make up for his sins." The arkangel paused, then snorted in amusement and nodded, closing his eyes as he let his head drop forwards with a little sigh: "We used to be in the same team, back in the times... so, in the end, I'm glad that Riaku is still alive. I can't think of Riaku without remembering the young boy who worked harder and longer than anyone else, to catch up, to improve, to toughen up despite a body that wasn't as gifted and potent as that of the other Predators. He was a wonder... I adored him, because he always gave his all, and he always tried, and tried, and tried, until he managed not only to do it, but do it better than the others."

"Yeah, who's not known the Riaku of those days can't understand..." Killer agreed softly, before adding calmly: "I'm not surprised that they wanted Riaku dead. Hell, I wanted him dead too... but how could I kill him? I've single-handedly wiped whole regions off the maps, not with war but with slaughter, with pure bloodshed, for no other reason other than for satisfying my hungers. I'm more monster than he will ever be, and yet I've been given another chance. I had to ensure Riaku had his own. And..."

Killer paused, then sighed and shook his head briskly, rubbing a hand nervously into his mane as Manticora looked at him with warm affection, tinged with sadness and respect for his pain and regret and guilt. "...and I was the worst of fathers for him. I have a huge amount of responsibility for what he's done, for what happened, and for what will be of him in future. I could not kill him. It would have been yet another betrayal, yet another escape from my responsibilities."

"I know." William agreed, nodding quietly and smiling. "And I'm glad that you made the right decision. The soldiers themselves, with time, have come to understand why you did what you did, and they now appreciate it. But it is not over and done yet, Killer... Riaku still needs your guidance. And he might need it for long into the future."

"I know. And I intend to be a good and steady guide." Killer agreed, nodding with resolution as he and William traded a gaze, looking into each other's eyes, looking past the words and promises, and into the very soul, to see the truth of the vow.

William nodded back after a long moment, smiling slightly, satisfied for what he saw through his pupil's eyes: the utmost determination, and the strongest of wills. Everything that could be done, would have been done without hesitation. And Killer would have striven to do even more, whenever it was necessary.

"You'll take good care of him. But now we should move on, quickly: I'll need to prepare the division for the unthinkable, and find a way to warn everyone. We might have to resort to psychic contact to get in touch with some, especially if the Council steps up their effort to keep us separated. But until we can, we should avoid mind-links: the Metatrons would immediately catch up on them, and now this fearsome psychic from Hell adds further risks." The arkangel said, standing up and looking thoughtful, already planning two or three steps ahead, as he had always done, as he had taught Killer to do. Seize the initiative, hold it, force the enemy to adapt and respond to your choices and actions. That was William's talent and belief: maneuver, maneuver, maneuver. "If Alexis does really manage to expand her powers enough to avoid the Metatron's and Gods' long noses, we will get an invaluable edge. I hope she succeeds, soon. But no one ever did it before."

"How do you know about that plan of hers?" Killer asked, smiling in amusement as he stood up from his chair, Manticora at his side, as a lover and as a bodyguard, already acting like a Disciple.

"I didn't know before you confirmed it to me right now. I just guessed that she would want to keep in touch with you, even with Heaven trying to keep you apart." William replied easily, grinning slightly, before Killer punched his shoulder lightly and they traded an entertained nod.

"That's right... We all have our missions now. Let's move."