"You tried to take on Godfrey the Greater? One of Satanus' closest and strongest allies?" Furcas smacked the side of Alexander's head, sending a singeing pain through the Human-Born's skull.

Alexander groaned and rubbed the point of impact. "I mean... I had to. He just crashed into the mountain. I had to fight him."

Furcas grumbled in frustration, only muttering out something about 'foolishness'. He spat out a sigh before he bent over and grabbed his helmet off the ground.

Alexander realized he had never seen Furcas in his armor. Although to be fair, he had only seen Furcas once before. He stepped back and stared at the bright glimmer of plate armor worn by the knight among demons.

Furcas was wearing silver itself, plated and layered. The silver was arrayed over his chest, overlapping with folds to strengthen and protect until reaching the main plate of his chest. The same continued over his shoulders and all of his legs, with overlapping steel of silver shielding him from any harm at all. His arms, however, were bare of armor, only wreathed with a luscious red cloth, thick and firm, yet smooth to the touch. That cloth reached down to his fingers, reaching past the armor on his hands and waist and stretching into his lower body as well, and even becoming a cape attached to the plate armor and wrapped around his neck.

Wishing to not carry his helmet, he lifted it above his head and slid it down. It was of the same silver steel that wrapped around the rest of his body, and covered nearly every inch of his head and face, leaving only his eyes open to the world. What stood out the most was the wood.

His helmet was worn with horns, singularly built of wood and painted red. They protruded outward to the sides, twisting and extending.

He stared at Alexander's hip, barren of a blade. Without a moment's hesitation, he unhooked the leather strap that held his sheathed sword to the belt of his armor and tossed it to Alexander.

The Human-Born reflexively caught it, although his eyes tinged with confusion.

"You need it much more than I do," Furcas said. While his face was hidden behind his helmet, Alexander knew he was smiling. That was all he said, before turning around and beginning his path down the mountain.

"Follow me," he ordered Alexander and Kieran.

As they climbed up the mountain, Kieran exhausted as always, Alexander explained everything regarding Elisa and all they had done on their quest. Furcas nodded in understanding and even smiled as Alexander spoke on how he couldn't abandon the girl.

The devil even laughed when Alexander mentioned he had killed Osdorhne.

Still, none of them had to speak to understand that Kieran had failed in Purgatorio. Kieran had nothing to say, and so, Furcas only gripped his shoulder and urged him to keep moving.

They quickly reached the peak as the firestorm had begun clearing out of the sky. Although on the mountaintop, it made no difference. On the precipice of the UnderWorld, all they could do was stare down.

Furcas lifted a finger and aimed at the horizon. "There... are the Doors of Life and Death."

Alexander stared into the deep distance. All he could see where Furcas pointed at was a white tower, nothing like the grand doors of stone he had imagined. But Furcas wouldn't steer Alexander wrong, not at this stage of their quest.

"I ushered Shadowfax and the girl down the mountain," Furcas told the two boys. "That way, they can rest up. They'll be ready to move again by the team we reach them. Just a few more hours, my boys. That's all we need." He carried his voice with hope as he faced the boundless horizon again.

They kept moving. Mere minutes later, Alexander found himself trailing behind the others. Even as he urged himself to keep moving, he only wanted to lie down and die. But for one already dead, that was the last option he had to choose from.

Beads of sweat dripped down his nose and nose as he trod down the mountain. He clenched his heart– it burned and ached within his chest, filling him up with a warm pain. "Fuck..." he found himself spitting out.

Still, he gave himself no quarter and pressed on until they were at the foot of the mountain. Quick cries and shouts of immortal jubilee were shared among the few, now free from danger and on the short, straight path to what they sought.

The white pillar– The Doors were closer than ever before.

A mere minute was shared between Alexander and Kieran and Esila, before Shadowfax purred. Furcas' horse was a large and strong red beast. The horse named Red Hare turned to its master, just as Furcas halted and faced the mountain once again.

He had come face to face with a familiar demon. One he hadn't seen in years, one he wished he would never come across again in his life.

Lucifuge stood with his hands behind his back and smiled, his violet coattails flying in the wind that brushed behind him.

"It's a pleasure to see you all again, especially safe and sound." His eyes were already white, plain, and without color.

"What under heaven are you doing here?" Furcas glared.

Lucifuge paused, as if to think over his response and to ascertain that each word he spoke was deliberate. "...Satanus' army is taking control of Purgatorio as we speak. They are doing so under the guise that their conquest is motivated by the lands south of Purgatorio, lands known to have aligned themselves to Abaddon. However, I do not care for them. I noticed you, Furcas, and your traveling band, and instead of coming to the aid of those who support my master, I have directed my army here. To you. To kill you."

A laugh boomed behind Furcas' silver helmet, before he pounded his fist into his open hand.

"Furcas, don't laugh!" Kieran yelped out, his eyes widening as he was met with an encroaching mass of silver and bronze. "I don't think he was joking about his army!" he said, forcing himself to accept the thousands of demons that moved in unison.

"Never assume a Governor of Hell is joking," Furcas said with a smirk, although that smile was hidden.

Lucifuge twirled his open hand to the side. "Let's begin, shall we?"

"Let's."

"Kieran! Esila! Move!" Alexander screeched as Furcas' armored fist crashed into Lucifuge's. The single impact blew apart the air and sent a shockwave into the ground and the mountain. Rocks were blasted off the side in the deep rumble and burst down on them.

Alexander's weary eyes were blind to the struggle that followed. He was met with a rapid, nearly invisible battle between two forces he could hardly hope to match. One, his grandfather, the source of all his power, and the other, a demonic well of energy that could instill fear with the slightest motion.

One of Lucifuge's attacks landed into the ground and sent up a cloud of dust and a breeze of shattered stones. As he danced in the air, Lucifuge's body shifted rapidly, leaving only one thought in Alexander's mind– the story from Liam of a bastard on Vanaheim whose soul magic could change anything and anyone.

Lucifuge's fist was larger than normal– larger than large, growing to the size of a dragon's head, and it was aimed for Furcas.

There was only enough time for Furcas' eyes to widen before Lucifuge's grand fist crashed into his head. His silver steel helmet shattered on impact and burst into shards, quickly cascading down his bearded face. The impact was enough to break his nose, forcing blood to rush out from his already reddened face.

"Damned usurper!" he cried out through his clenched jaw, grabbing hold of Lucifuge's fist and pulling it.

Lucifuge only laughed, flashing his sharp teeth as he spoke, "You're mistaken! The usurper is my lord and master! I, however, am a vessel for his ideals! A vessel that will-"

"I care not." Furcas grit his teeth again before driving his forehead into Lucifuge's face. The crash echoed, reverberating into every bone in the demon's body and into the humans' eardrums. What followed was a splash of blood and purple mist, and hidden behind it were a pair of glowing white eyes.

Lucifuge gasped for air, now finding himself unable to breathe through his nose. The very bones had been crushed to dust, leaving his skull cracked and misshapen.

He stared up at Furcas, his sight finally meeting the knight's starlike gaze. Not a single second more, Alexander told himself. It was then that he had dashed up to the kneeling demon, and with one clean and quick swipe, had sliced off Lucifuge's head.

The disembodied head flew up into the sky before being forced down by gravity. From there, everything went wrong.

Alexander ran to Furcas. He asked, "How fast can your horse get away from here?"

Furcas understood immediately. With an army of devils quickly approaching, there was no time to waste, nor risks to take. "Get her on," he ordered.

They sped to Esila, and Alexander helped her onto the horse. He instructed her to stay on the saddle, to never let go of the reins no matter what. At the same time, Furcas rubbed the horse's face and spoke in a demonic tongue with a smile. "Become faster than the wind, Red Hare," he said to it.

"Alexander, no! Please!" she quietly screamed with light tears in her eyes.

"Esila! It's okay! Just go! Go now! You're free now, Esila!" he cried out to her.

Esila held onto the sleeves of Alexander's burnt and bloodied sweater. "Please. Please don't let me be alone again."

That was all she could utter. And in the face of her tears, in the face of his decisions, Alexander knew he couldn't keep her at his side.

A snake slithered beside Furcas' armored foot while he stared at Alexander helping and consoling Esila. The child was a broken one, but Alexander would never let himself try anything less than his best. For her.

Furcas noticed. A slimy green serpent by his foot and staring, nothing more. The knight among demons understood, and even smiled.

"Someone like you," he said. "Someone who exploits others, someone who destroys the lives and dreams of others, someone who enacts nothing but evil on others... could never understand what drives this boy to shed blood."

His smile widened as he looked back up and met Alexander, a boy viciously reassuring a young girl, a Human-Born who had given his all for a demon. Alexander hugged and held Esila as she wept, warding off her fears for what he knew to be the last time. "He rages for the sake of others. For people, all humans and look, even demons... For them... He does all he can until he can do no more. That young man possesses a drive that eclipses all common understanding. The drive to save others."

The snake finally moved, its tongue slithering out of its mouth and sliding onto the ground.

"I disagree," Furcas responded.

The snaked whispered again with another slither of its tongue.

"Thus, he is not one you will be able to destroy. I know it."

He raised his armored shoe and slammed it into the ground, crushing the snake's head and leaving it to fade away into the air as nothing more than ash and dust.

"Alexander!" Furcas called, stamping off the dust of the decaying serpent. "You should get her going."

Furcas nodded at his horse, and Alexander nodded at Esila. It was then that a pair of white wings of feathers burst from the sides of the red horse.

Alexander took a step back. He had seen this before, hadn't he? The exhaustion in his heart returned, this time with a vengeance, carrying brain pain. His head swirled and once again, the world itself slowed until what stood in front of him became still, a single frame, a painting.

The red horse...

It wasn't just a symbol of what was to come immediately. That he knew. And that he hated. That symbol was one he had seen a year ago, in a nightmarish vision. That symbol was one he would continue to live through for years to come, he feared. It was war itself.

He fell to his knees and only kept himself up with his hands.

"Alexander!" Esila and Kieran shouted in unison.

With a quick whistle from Furcas, the beast knew what to do, and without hesitation, began speeding down the plain before rising into the wind.

The red horse remained ingrained in his mind. If that beast was a beacon of war, then... No...

Not a single one of Alexander's thoughts was coherent enough for him to understand.

"Alexander!" Kieran cried again, in the face of the cruel and cold gales that hurled against them with each flap of Red Hare's wings. His footsteps rang out into Alexander's pounding head and thumping heart.

Even with his hands in front of him, his eyes could see nothing other than the red hilt of Furcas' sword.

Kieran's clamoring steps came to a sudden halt– one whose silence interrupted Alexander's raging mind. With saliva and drool slipping through his open lips, Alexander slowly turned his head back to the mountain.

Lucifuge was standing upright, his head once again connected to his body, although that body was bare– free of all clothing and burdens. His nose was still crushed, still bleeding purple blood onto his bare skin.

There was no need to turn back. Alexander already knew that Lucifuge's body remained just a dozen meters away, decapitated and bleeding into the ground. The only explanation was that he had grown a new body, fresh from the disembodied, severed head that crashed into the dirt just minutes ago.

As expected, he was tall and skinny, his ribcage and collarbone, even many veins peering through his paper-white skin. Still, that appearance of weakness didn't keep him from driving his hand into Kieran's chest and impaling the boy.

While remaining human-sized, Lucifuge's straight hand had ripped through Kieran's rib cage and punctured the boy's heart, crushing everything in its path for the singular purpose of killing.

There was no scream. Only a shudder, only a soft gasp of air forced its way out of Kieran's lungs and through his lips as he looked down at the bloody sight and understood what occurred.

"I didn't think a human could engage in such trouble in our own territory," Lucifuge whispered into Kieran's ear as he inched closer, digging his arm deeper into the hole of Kieran's chest. "Know this, boy. In Hell, judgment will not befall you from any of your gods. Only from a devil."

Kieran's eyes met his friend's. "Alexander..." he choked out.

His heart had been crushed on impact, and as Lucifuge forced his hand out, as arrows from his army began to rain down on them, one by one, minute by minute, his life slipped away. Each drop of blood that escaped him was more life itself disappearing.

Lucifuge wasted no time of their shock and aimed his next attack at Alexander, jumping up and fortifying his body at the Demon-Born that barely put himself on his feet. He held onto his sword, beginning to raise it.

His arms failed to support the weight, just as he lost the strength of his knees, leaving him on the ground.

Furcas' already bloody fist flew up and crashed into Lucifuge's face. The two demons fell to the ground, Furcas quickly raising his fist over the laying demon and slammed it into Lucifuge's head.

'Again.'

Over and over, without pause, even as an arrow flew out and pierced Furcas' armor and shoulder, he pounded his fist into the devil.

The footsoldiers' march had already begun shaking the earth. This sensation broke Furcas' mind free of the grip of death and raised him away from Lucifuge and the demon's blood.

By now, Kieran was dead, Furcas told himself. Still, he faced the boy's corpse to see Alexander, the Human-Born holding onto the body and beginning to weep.

Furcas knew what was to come next. "Alexander!" he cried. "Don't!"

Alexander couldn't breathe. He watched as the glimmer faded from Kieran's azure eyes, as the boy's very tears began to dry, and all Alexander was left to focus on was the sinking stone of his stomach. It weighed him down and crushed all of his organs, leaving him without breath, without thoughts, and without anything except pain.

"No, no, no, no," he mumbled through his choking. "No."

His swirling eyes widened as Kieran's heart stopped beating, and his blood stopped flowing.

Alexander was too deep in thought to even begin to hear Furcas' shouts. He couldn't feel Furcas' touch as the demon grabbed his shoulder. His eyes remained fixed on what now lay still as a corpse— a boy he called his friend.

Saliva drooled down his lip and dripped into the ground, the thin stream splashing down and evaporating instantly. With his hands still on and in the ground, Alexander squeezed. He clenched his fingers into a fist, and a darkness began to spread over his body.