Undeath and Rebirth

Mortis stared down with all the loathsome disdain he could muster at the tyrannical ram; hand clenched up with trembling fury. “It’s not possible,” he muttered mutedly. “The traitor slaughtered you the moment she saw fit. How are you alive and standing?! Unless you're another—”

“Look closer, soul reaper,” taunted Grogar. “And all may be revealed to you.”

“Master, I don’t understand,” Triad sharply whispered.

“Yeah, what’s that old coot saying?” Penny Dreadful added, her head tilted.

The half-formed warlock narrowed his eyes, using his soul sense to analyze the old ram. His dark aura was burning brightly, a lot more potent than when he last saw Grogar before his swift demise by Shadow Scythe’s hand.

Something felt off about his twisted spiritual pressure. It felt familiar, yet also unknown. It was as if they had never met but still knew each other.

His reformed eyes widened with realization. “As I suspected. You're… not the Grogar from my timeline!”

“That version of me was weak,” Grogar dryly stated. “As was the withered fool who failed to overcome his grand-nephew and lineage. So I absorbed what remained of their essence and, in turn, made myself the strongest ‘Grogar’ in existence!”

“That explains this sense of anaemia,” declared Mortis. “You’ve become a living paradox!”

The elderly cervine smiled smugly. “That’s correct. Courtesy of the one you seek~.”

Deathly power flared in the wraith’s guillotine-edged scythe, accusingly pointing a bony digit at the ram. “The nature of your existence violates sacred law! And by the name of the old order of reapers, I now sentence you and your benefactor to death!”

Grogar chuckled while cracking his neck, his curved horns alight with black and yellow magic. “You are free to try. But don’t be surprised when you wake up back in the afterlife to meet the stares of your pathetic order!”

“No one disrespects my master!” warned Triad, whose magic blade emitted a metallic ring when drawn, emitting ethereal energies ghostly around the inscribed katana. His eyes narrowed, the tattoos of the tiger and dragon on his back roaring to life as he faced down the ancient ram.

His brown eyes looked to the other robed figure who moved to aid Grogar’s side. The red robes and a hood concealed their appearance, hand wielding a strange purple bident made from a four-horned ram’s skull.

“Step off, hussie,” chirped Penny Dreadful, her bladed parasol leveling. “Don’t much like you!”

“Th’ feelin’ is mutual,” the apprentice said with a whispery female voice, almost inaudible, while raising her staff. However, Grogar blocked their path with a shake of his head and a ferocious smile.

“Stand down. No need to waste your talents on these miserable thralls,” he assured while activating his Onoma, Typhon, and summoned his own set of familiars.

The first creature was a disembodied man's head that screamed and glided on leathery bay wings through the air, trailed by intestines that hung from its neck.

Triad balked. “That’s… a-a penanggalan!” His mind flashed back to the syndicate that raised and experimented on him...about how he'd been trapped naked beneath a tube, like Kitsune and Wispy, submerged in liquids, where mutants like these were synthesized…

“Ooooh, pluck my feathers and fuck me raw!” Penny murmured when facing the second beast, an oversized centipede with agonized faces underside each segment of its lengthy body. They openly wailed, which echoed around the cavernous walls.

Immediately, the undead minions swept into battle against the duo of monsters while their masters watched from the sidelines, the murkiness of Mortis Saltaire's eyes locked on the old ram.

Unfortunately, the last fight weakened the reaper's followers, and they struggled to keep pace. Triad’s katana and his familiars could barely reach the winged cryptid, who unleashed a piercing shriek that forced the kitasan stallion to his knees, hands covering his ears.

The noise discombobulated the griffoness, allowing the giant anthropoid to wrap around her, translucent liquid dripping down its mandibles and venom claws.

“Penny!” Triad cried, preparing to leap at the centipede when the penanggalan coiled its entrails around his neck and torso, tightly strangling the swordsman.

Andrei snarled and dove in to support them by blasting cones of hellish flames at Grogar… only for his apprentice to intercept by summoning a beast of their own. When the smoke settled, an eel-faced hydra rose from the mystical circle, organs, and bones visible beneath translucent scales. It ensnared the three-headed drake with its multitude of necks, biting down to inject Andrei with high voltage.

The monstrous dragon bellowed, spouting fireballs in every direction. Some landed on and scorched his own allies, while Mortis erected a magical barrier to protect himself from the resulting explosions that shook the cave and caused sediment to tumble.

Triad's dragon and tiger faded and returned to the tattoos on his back; the kitasan swordsman smashed into a wall as his blade slipped from his grasp. Likewise, Penny squawked and tumbled from the air in a burst of feathers. Andrei smoked and shivered, barely able to remain on his clawed feet after the attack.

Grogar glared at his fellow spell caster. “I thought I told you to stand down!”

“Ah did not come here tae waste time, old man,” the apprentice countered before suddenly casting vibrant blue ethereal chains from the ground that seized Mortis, who was about to decapitate the distracted ram.

The reaper writhed in his spiritual shackles, casting his glare on the hooded cultist… only to then recognize the enormous magical prowess her soul possessed, far exceeding the father of monsters!

Aware they were severely outmatched, Mortis attempted to flood his undead minions with darkness and restore their replenished strength.

“Ah think not, ye half-made cadaver,” scoffed the apprentice, who pulled an ancient-looking bell from around her neck. The artifact drew out all of the reaper’s black magic with a single ring until he was utterly sapped. Mortis wheezed in his spiritual bonds, the power that reanimated him and his minions siphoned away. And with it, the clammy pockets of flesh on his bone receded.

“No… I refuse to fade...!” He outstretched a bony hand at the crimson cultist before him.

The apprentice brandished their bident to finish him off until Grogar raised a hand to halt her actions. “Not yet,” he told her. “He only needs to be put back into his place. There’s still work to be done.”

“What…?”

The ancient caprine knelt to the lich’s level. “If not for the ‘anomaly,’ you would have never awoken to carry out your vengeance. None of what you’ve accomplished would have been made possible without them. You owe them your purpose!”

Mortis’ bones rattled, livid by such implausible claims. Yet he struggled to recollect the details of his first night free from his tomb. Was that not when Beatrix discovered him many moons ago..?

“… And what is… my ‘purpose’..?”

“You’ve already handled the ‘betrayer’ perfectly,” Grogar said with slight praise. “But the Fallen One and his accursed kind must be dealt with immediately. Head to Sacratera with your legion, deprive the planet’s energy, and eliminate the demi-humans! Those wretched abominations were never meant to be!”

Mortis stayed silent momentarily before casting his dwindling sight on the hooded acolyte, fixated with the Bewitching Bell collared on her neck. “… And my power… you’ll return it to me..?”

“Only if ye agree tae complete yer task,” the apprentice assured.

After seconds of uninterrupted silence, the lich complied. “… Very well.”

Grogar turned to his apprentice and nodded. She rang the bell again, the soundwave resonating through the skeletal unicorn and renewing him with his stolen dark power. The pieces of skin that had manifested across portions of his being replenished, and Mortis shivered, shaken by the chill air of the cave momentarily.

When he fully recovered, Mortis reopened the ghastly, sickly green portal with a casual wave. “Come,” he ordered his followers. Wryly, Triad and Penny rose, supporting one another. At the same time, Andrei shot their attackers a final defiant glance before he followed them through the rift, which Mortis closed behind them, and whisked away to recover before their final confrontation with Zeloph and his allies.

The tired caprine heaved a sigh while recalling his monsters to which they came. “Well, that could have gone better.”

His apprentice did the same before questioning, “Is it wise tae allow such a vengeful wraith tae freely haunt th’ mortal plane? He will come after us again.”

Grogar brushed her concerns aside, stating, “You worry too much. Omen foresaw this exchange. And if his premonition is to be believed, Mortis and his undead flunkies will unlikely survive their next encounter.”

“An’ should he succeed?”

“Heh. By the time Mortis even attempts to seek out the Cult of the Nemesis, it will already be too late. Now come along, dear. There is much left to prepare!”

The olden ram phased through the portal behind them while the lone cultist held the Bewitching Bell fondly.

“Aye… fur Walpurgisnacht approaches.”

She soon hopped after Grogar through the crimson vortex, the Isles of Parras on the other side, where the rest of their faction of robe-wearing cultists awaited further instruction on the hillside. Quietly watching the Jakobson Clan and their war efforts below...

Translucent doors slid apart for Beatrix Belladonna to enter, activating a locking system to confine herself into the room. The witch waved her hand to banish all her clothing while she threw herself onto a bed. Violet eyes, full of heavy sorrow, stared at the ceiling, thoughts muddled by all that recently happened.

Lavender Lace and Fuchsia Blush, dead. Beatrix had never known them too well, but they had helped her out on a few adventures. Her mother, Trixie, was also supposedly dead, yet she refused to believe it so quickly.

She called her by the affectionate name of ‘Little Hellspawn.’ It just had to be her!

But her woes didn’t end there, aware of the disappearances of Cerise Silhouette and White Shadow Penumbra, the former practically her niece. She'd seen her grow from a budding baby to a blossoming young woman and couldn't bear telling her parents she'd lost her. That she'd failed her after she'd sworn to look after her!

But it wasn’t just the daughter of darkness Beatrix had let down. Midnight was in dire condition, thanks to her recklessly wishing for a half-brother. This resulted in his hyper-stallionism and separation from his twin, Lightning Spark, and their lost mother, Snowy Blizzard.

Then there was her heated confrontation with the fallen one, Zeloph. She could still feel the immense flames the angelic alien emitted when he lashed out with the wrath of a thousand suns—blaming her for the inevitable death of his beloved, her once nemesis, Shadow Scythe.

And as much as the witchy mare wanted to refute Zeloph’s claims, Beatrix knew he was completely justified. Especially after the stunt she pulled in protecting the Necronomicon, the source of her taboo power…and her continual misery.

Tears continued to streak her face, all her comrades and family meeting her with a look of anger or disbelief. Viscera’s cruel laughter echoed in her mind, pointing out how she selfishly chose her livelihood over Oona and Abadonna’s safety.

Is that why Omen had stopped coming to her in sleep? Did he realize what a lost cause the wayward witch was and quietly took things into his own hands?

“Maybe it’s better this way,” she wept softly. “Oona… Abby… they deserve someone who can protect them…love them… someone more than me…”

Beatrix allowed deep despair to pull her into slumber, where not even her dreams would offer comfort.

“Omnia culpa tua…

Omnia culpa tua…

Omnia culpa tua…”

The crunching of grass underfoot caused her eyes to flutter open, finding herself dragged through a fog-layered forest by the familiar hooded crimson robes. Hollow trees towered around them, stretching into the vast emptiness above. She heard them repeat a mantra.

“Omnia culpa tua…

Omnia culpa tua…

Omnia culpa tua…”

Her vision faded briefly until she awoke to the Cult of the Nemesis encircling her. Not even the flickering candlelight unveiled the darkness holding their faces.

Groggily, Beatrix tried to get up, only to discover she was tied to a pentagram-shaped table, spread eagle, and completely naked, unable to budge her tethered wrists and ankles. She tried to conjure magic… but nothing happened. Her confusion quickly became fear once one cultist stepped forward, wielding something that made her heart skip a beat.

A violet unicorn horn, freshly severed and conformed into a wand.

“N-no… No, No, NOOOO!! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?!”

“The power of the Necronomicon was never yours to wield, witch,” the cultist declared. “And trust me; you won’t need magic for what we have in store for you.”

The dehorned mare flailed uselessly in her bounds while the cultists raised their voices to strengthen their seance in an ancient tongue.

“Omnia culpa tua!

Omnia culpa tua!

Omnia culpa tua!”

Hooded men and women parted to allow unspeakably grotesque and nightmarish monsters into their fold, forming a line up before the mare's thick, parted thighs.

Beatrix sucked in panic breaths and looked over her heaving tits and stiff nipples to see a glowing demonic tattoo highlighting where her womb was—a magical mark of enhanced fertility that ensured insemination.

Dread and goosebumps tickled bare flesh, down to her puffy pussy lips, as the first malformed monstrosity dug its claws into her meaty legs, her eyes dilating at the veiny twin behemoths erecting out its sheathes, its tips left to pulsate and drool.

“N-n-no, wait! I don’t want—naaahh~!!”

Its elongated tongue darted out, wriggling over the mare’s exposed asshole and slit with an audible slurp as it lubed her up, its monstrous cocks pulsating and dripping. Beatrix whined when it pressed the flared tips against her marehood and rectum before sharply crying out as muscled hips pushed forward. The beast added its bellowing roar to the choir of ecstasy and drove in and out of her defenseless love tunnel and bowels.

Slobber splashed over the violet mare’s bouncing breasts as it pummeled her snatch womb deep, imprints of its cock forming in her tummy. Its lengthy tongue repeatedly circled one titty it pinched while it lapped at the erect nub that topped the saliva-soaked breast.

Tears welled in Beatrix’s eyes from the overwhelming pain and pleasure, her cries and pleas unanswered while the cult performed their ritual. While she couldn't understand the chanting words, they encouraged the brute to breed her. She mewled when it doubled its thrusting speed until howling alongside her, burying its shafts to the hilt to unleash an obscene amount of sloppy semen deep inside her insides.

This triggered the witch’s own wet, messy, masochistic orgasm, feeling the monster’s vile spunk flood the walls of her womb, and inflate her belly with its virile load as the tattoo on her tummy shimmered, excess spurting out her ruined holes as they clenched down hard.

Spurred by the show, robes fell open to reveal naked bodies underneath. Men and women stroked, groped, and pleasured themselves to her humiliation.

The panting beast extracted himself out of her overstretched holes with a wet pop, pale sludge running from her cunt and ass while more violent cumshots and squirts were fired by cultists and the monster across her sweaty face, belly, and tits. Instantly, another cryptid in the lineup took place, lining its mucus-laced tentacle-like appendages to her gushing and gaping, cum-soaked marehood and anus. Beatrix wailed as the intruding wriggling tendrils claimed her orifices and took its turn to sate its mating instinct.

This is what she was made for. Destined to be a breeding sow for all monsters and abominations. Her supple flesh designed to pleasure them and nurture their young. The sickest part of her couldn’t help but get aroused by such a twisted fate; her violated fuckholes moistening to help the tentacle beast finish using them.

It filled her. Dropped her like a slab of meat it finally lost all interest in.

The next hell beast snapped the binds around the hornless witch mare’s ankles, seizing her legs to lift her wide rump higher and ram its bulbous, knotted, and barbed cocks into her stuffed asshole and vagina. Beatrix arched her back and belted a shrilly shriek of unwanted bliss, squirting over its hefty breeding sack as it ruthlessly raped her in a mating press.

Monster juice pooled under her jiggling ass, which clapped each time her cunt and asshole were skewered by brutish, violent thrusts. Her eyes crossed, face ablaze by the mind-numbing elations.

“St-stop! It hurts! I-I can’t take anymore..!!” begged Beatrix, fighting how her body responded to this harsh abuse. She clenched her teeth when the creature roared, packing more seed into fertile soil before yanking its dicks out. A waterfall of splooge torrenting from her winking, grasping private parts, supple body caked in salt, sweat, and drool. Not to mention semen and feminine lubricant.

The violet mare cast her watery gaze on the onlooking cultists and sobbed, “N-no more! Please, make it stop!!”

All at once, the chanting stopped. The cultist that took her horn stood at the head of the procession and spoke with a recognizable female voice.

“This will never stop, my little hellspawn. Not while you exist to torment us!”

Beatrix’s face fell when the robbed figure lifted her hood, revealing the face of Trixie Lulamoon. More lines of salty wetness stained her cheek. “M-mom..?!”

“What other solution can save all the worlds you've tainted?” The older unicorn proclaimed. “This is the least you deserve for all the destruction you caused. To live out the rest of your days as a monster slut. Their submissive broodmare. And even then, you’ll find your penance pleasurable, won’t you?”

“Mother, no! There has to be…” She then spotted her mother's sidekicks around her. “Lavender! Fuchsia! I’m so sorry you-!”

“Killed us? Too late for worthless apologies, you little skank!” Lavender spouted, an angry smile stretching the unicorn's snout. “Let's baptize the bitch!”

“I like that idea,” replied Fuchsia with a slow, sensuous lick of her lips. Left nude by their open robes like all the onlookers, they buried themselves knuckle-deep in their pussies and fiercely masturbated with a series of wet, messy schlicks.

Trixie and other mob members took a different approach, brandishing a ceremonial knife and jabbing it into her chest to cut herself open. Then, she jammed her hand into the fresh wound and fished out her beating heart, squeezing the pulsating organ to shower her daughter in blood.

“Mom, please—ughak!” Beatrix sputtered, trying not to choke on the crimson liquid that spattered her.

“I wish I'd never given birth to you,” declared Trixie scornfully. “If I had known the calamity you would wreak, I would have prevented your conception in the womb!”

The distraught witch couldn’t even reply as another abomination invaded her uterus and bowels. Its roar was met by something between a sob and whorish squeal as it tore up her well-used fuckholes. All while Trixie, Lavender, and Fuschia painted her face and body in blood splats and feminine lubrication.

Violet eyes rolled into Beatrix's skull as the creature dumped its load of baby batter into her overstuffed foal room and tailhole. When the afterglow of her forced orgasm faded, her vision refocused on the cultists as, one by one, they unhooded to show the visages of her friends and loved ones. Each spouted a similar refrain while squeezing their life essence over the brutalized mare.

“You were supposed to look after me,” accused Cerise, soulful eyes full of tears and hate. “But on every adventure, I get captured or possessed! It’s all your fault!”

“Because of you, I've lost myself to darkness,” added Penumbra by his sister's side. “It’s all your fault!”

Moon Hammer bellowed with rage that made the minotaur quake. “I lost everything! My wives, my children, my people! Gone, and it’s all your fault!”

“When will you ever consider the consequences of your actions?” spat Iclyn with a sneer. “Oona deserved better than you! This is all your fault!”

“Look what you did to me,” muttered Midnight with self-pity.

“To me,” said Moonlight, who rubbed her false wings.

“To us,” joined Lightning Spark with a hollow stare. “This is all your fault!”

“It's your fault Varys came to our world and experimented on us,” exclaimed Wispy Willow, hands on her hips.

“And turned us into killers,” stated Kitsune, her eyes narrowed.

“All you do is blunder about and make stuff worse,” said Arcanum Folklore with a dismissive shake of his head. “It’s no wonder this mess is your fault…”

“PLEASE, I'M SORRY! I DIDN'T—guuhfk!!” Beatrix yelled in an attempt to shut them out before a small gremlin-like creature shoved its fat cock down her throat. It came with three others that scratched and grabbed whatever asset they could use to relieve themselves. One squeezed her blood and cum caked titties together to hump her cleavage, suckling and chewing on her nipples. The one using her mouth facefucked her hard, pulling on her mane like reigns while its swollen balls slapped her chin. The last two tittering ghouls plunged her leaky holes with their tapered dicks; all lost in a feral frenzy.

All the witch could do was muffle and gurgle her cries while accepting her punishment. Without her, the Cult of the Nemesis wouldn't have risen back up from the ashes. Without her, the whole universe would not be reduced to a void!

As the goblins continued to defile and gangbang Beatrix into submission, her allies continued their derision.

"We were justified in our betrayal," mused Esmeralda with a cocky smirk.

"Since you always blunder about," stated Camellia, snout drawn behind her mask.

“We should have known better than to help a disappointment,” observed Foal Bearer.

“We should have known better than to serve a disgrace,” quipped Wet Nurse.

“I shouldn’t have left the castle,” said a regretful Bellatrix. “At least then I would have been with someone I love…”

“At least you have someone to love,” seethed Zeloph. “Mine has to die because of your selfishness…”

“I have to die because of your weakness…,” lamented Shadow Scythe.

“Yer the bloomin' lowest of the la, Beatrix,” Moxxi chimed in.

And collectively, they restated, “And it’s all your fault!”

Beatrix struggled to ignore them, aware she couldn’t be responsible for everything that happened. Yet the words pierced into her heart like well-honed sabers. The agony of failure greatly outweighed the pleasure she felt from being these monsters' fucktoys. Hot spunk was forced down her gullet and orifices, spraying her blood-drenched tits and insides when the spent creatures withdrew from a thoroughly ravaged lay.

The violet mare coughed and vomited residue, her voice hoarse from yelling and crying loudly.

“My tribe is in ruins!” snarled Ebony Ivory.

“An' soon, mine will be, too,” sneered Dion.

“Because you’re never there for us when we need you!” scolded Rheneas.

“Always on another fun adventure,” accused Ashen Dunes. “Oblivious to the corpses she leaves in her wake.”

“Ignorantly living her make-believe fantasy of being a noble heroine,” ridiculed Layla. “But we know the truth, don’t we?”

“You’re no hero,” proclaimed Demi-Trix, whose army of scorched plushies nodded with her. “Just a stupid child who refuses to grow up and take responsibility!”

“STOP IT. THAT'S ENOUGH!!” Beatrix shouted. “NONE OF THIS IS REAL!!”

One cultist who hadn’t removed their hood climbed onto the ritual table the witch mare was bound to, looming over her tainted body. And Beatrix's heart sunk more than ever when they lifted their hood, staring into the scornful visage of her beloved mentor. “O-Oona…!!”

“Where were ye?” The azure sheep said with utter contempt. “Mah clan is at war! Mah life… Abadonna’s life is at stake! Why didn’t ye drop e'erythin' an' come fur me? Ah thought ye loved me!!”

“I do!” the witch babbled profusely. “I do love you! A-and little Abby!”

“Then why aren’t ye here!?” Oona wailed, bitter tears staining her round cheeks. “Why am Ah tae suffer this burden alone?!”

“Oona, please! I can’t allow the Cult of the Nemesis—”

“SILENCE!” belted the shamaness. “A’ve had enough ov yer excuses! Mah father an' Iclyn were right about ye! Ye’ve wounded mah faith fur th' last time! Open up yer eyes, Ceane Oga! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!!”

“All your fault..!

All your fault..!

All your fault..!”

Beatrix whimpered as everyone gathered began reciting the words like a mantra, their forms steadily lifting into the air. Their colors and faces gradually faded, eyes and mouths replaced by black distortion and scribbles. She couldn’t stop the accusations when Oona straddled her hips and coiled her hands around her neck like a tight noose.

“Aahk! Oona... P-Please,” the witch gasped through shallow breaths. “I-I can’t… br-breathe..!”

“Wallow an' die then. We’re better off wit'out ye, whore,” Oona muttered coldly through clenched teeth.

“All your fault!

All your fault!

All your fault!”

Beatrix’s vision began to blur, the world around her spiraling into delirium. So overwhelmed by the ongoing chants and the hands choking the life out of her, the unicorn mare barely registered that one last monster had penetrated her swollen and abused genitals. Oona obscured her view of the creature, only able to make out the silhouette of branches protruding behind her skull. When she spoke once more, a deeper voice layered beneath hers.

“ꁲ꒒꒒. ꐞꂦꐇꌅ. ꄞꁲꐇ꒒ꋖ.”

A continuous scream escaped Beatrix's lips, snapped back to awareness when she was slapped across the cheek. She rubbed the red mark on her face and gazed up at Iclyn, who was gripping her shoulder while lowering her open palm.

“Took you long enough,” the cyan deer grunted and released her grasp on the startled witch. By her side were Bellatrix and Dion, who wore concerned looks on their faces.

“Ye alright, lass?” The burly ram asked.

“Partially,” admitted Beatrix. “H-how did you-?”

“We heard your screaming, and I overrode the lock,” explained Bellatrix. “Well, less of a 'scream' at first, and more of a…”

The violet mare felt her face redden, using her magic to conceal her nakedness with a sheet.

“Good grief. Even in your worst dreams, you’re still salacious,” Iclyn said, albeit more teasing than malicious. “Does your depravity know no boundaries, hussy?”

“Oi, lay off her!” Dion butted in. “She’s already been through enough as is.”

“Hard to take your earnestness seriously when you’re looking to get your dick wet,” jabbed the succubus, noting his stiff erection poking through his black fleece.

The warrior caprine chose to ignore them and shift focus on the troubled witch, his crimson eyes softening. “Moanin' wasn’t th' only sound ye were makin', sweetin'. Ye were sobbin' up a storm, spouting on an' on ‘bout how it was ‘all yer fault.’”

Beatrix cringed at the sound of those three words, sliding up to tuck her knees into her chest. “Y-yeah, it was… horrible, to say the least.” That horrible chant still rang between her ears, the vision of Oona strangling her fresh in her mind.

“Ye don’t have tae talk about it,” reassured Dion. “We’re just glad that ye’re safe.”

“Looks like the stress is finally wearing you down,” surmised Iclyn.

“We were taking a tour around the ship,” informed Bellatrix. “Why don’t you come with us? It’ll help get your mind off that bad dream.”

“That does sound lovely… Thanks, but maybe another time,” Beatrix said with a sad smile. “There’s something I need to do.”

With a wave, she reclothed herself and gently pushed her sister and friends aside to leave the room. Dion, Bellatrix, and Iclyn gave bewildered glances but didn't push the witch on it and resumed browsing the UFO's vast, serpentine interiors.

Heeled boots clicked through the curved hallway as Beatrix passed the bathing room. Sliding doors opened while Eclipsed Heart poked her head out to see the unaware unicorn walk away.

The pop princess pursed her snout while drying off and putting on her sparkly attire. The scene of Beatrix and Zeloph played in her head on a loop while she traversed the maze of marked corridors.

Eclipsed was torn between their hardships and her own grievances. Both of them had good intentions, she knew that...but she'd also seen the side of Zeloph that was responsible for the thousands dead in Cerise's world. Then there was Beatrix, darkness to his light, whose carelessness indirectly caused many disasters across the multiverse.

It was because of the witch’s thoughtless, subconscious wishes, brought on by loneliness, that birthed Eclipsed Heart into existence within the Cyberverse. A youthful pop idol without an actual past or parents to call her own. An alternative to Cerise Silhouette. A shadow of the mare.

Her pink eyes watered. “They've both hurt me,” she murmured. “Not intentionally, but… does it really matter?”

Not wanting this feeling to fester, Eclipsed sought out her bandmates in B.A.B.E. for support and advice. She checked each virtual reality chamber down one sector before her attention drew to the music from one.

“Eureka!”

She skated into the room where Wispy, Kitsune, Kyube, and Chisana put on a small concert. Together, they performed an eastern-style song on stage in the middle of serene woodlands of pink trees that filled the pristine air with fluttery cherry blossoms.

Spotting the marveling princess, the nekomata waved her hand and greeted, “There you are, Princess Butterbuns! Glad you could join us~!”

Eclipsed eyes turned saucers as she twirled around to take in the elegant scenery. “It's so pretty!”

“Pft! You think any landscape puked in pink is pretty,” teased Wispy with a roll of her eyes.

“Well, excuse me!” She planted hands on her hips and wrinkled her nose, tickled by a stray cherry blossom that almost made her sneeze before she held it in. “Also, starting a practice session without me? Rude!”

“Hey, not our fault you were busy,” said Wispy, adjusting her scarlet cheongsam under the strap of her bass. “You were missing out! Foxy here's got talent on the woodwinds!”

She gestured to the male vulpine, who snickered before raising his shakuhachi flute to his snout. “I often use the time between heists to practice. Of course, making time on dangerous roads full of infected changelings and fanatics like Fiery was hard!”

Chisana paused the banging of her drums and shot him a cheeky grin. “Anata to Kitsune ga issho ni utsukushī ongaku o tsukuru no o kiku no ga machi kiremasen~!”

This sly remark caused Kyube to blow a sour note and Wispy to hiss in irritation. Kitsune offered a meek smile adorned by a silk kimono; her shamisen clutched her bosom.

“Thank you,” she offered a polite bow. “Join us, please. The fresh scents and breeze here have helped ease the pain.” She kept her tails tucked behind her, a constant reminder that she'd lost one in the last battle. “Though I detect something is vexing you. Care to share with us?”

Eclipsed removed her skates and sat on the grass between them. “Yeah… it’s about Beatrix and Zeloph. I know their hearts are in the right place, but...what if they've made everything worse? I can’t trust them to make sound decisions anymore!”

“True that,” said Wispy. “We almost died when hot wings brought us here.”

“Shikashi, kare wa kūki ga yūdokudearu koto o shiranakatta hazudesu!” Argued the tanuki girl.

“Okay, but now he’s got Seb and Arron for company. They're a couple of loose cannons, and that's coming from me!” She laughed to herself.

“Keep in mind Zell is in a severe state of grief,” noted Kitsune, frowning. “His lover is on death’s edge. One can’t possibly expect sound judgment with heavy sorrows clouding his mind.” She thought back to her last exchange with the demi-human, how calm and considerate he was before the Vorpal Blade transported him away. “It would be unfair to uphold his past against him when he’s trying his best to change.”

Eclipsed sulked. “Y-yeah, but—”

“You should define someone not by who or what they are, but who they want to be,” proposed Kyube. “I was born to inherit my clan’s ruthless legacy one day, where plenty of yokai would suffer tremendously. I did not want this and chose the life of a bandit. And while there will always be people who will see me only as a thief or a demon fox, I have people who know me as more than that.” He paused to rub Chisana on the head.

“I can sense that both Beatrix and Zell yearn for inner peace. To do that, they must accept who they are wholeheartedly, warts and all. And that won’t ever happen if they are around people blinded by their previous actions…”

“… I-I never thought of it that way,” admitted the pop princess with a sulk. “By holding onto their past crimes, I’m only making the problem worse.”

Kyube nodded. “Thus continues the cycle of violence. Where there is no happiness or peace.”

“Many have done something horrible out of anger, desperation, or survival,” surmised Kitsune. “Not everything can or should be forgiven. But by looking past yourself, you will find closure and understanding in everything and everyone around you. That is the way to enlightenment.”

“Since when did you start believing in Taoism?” asked Wispy skeptically.

“I wouldn’t necessarily say ‘started.’ More like… It’s been a part of me all this time, and only now am I discovering what I’d been missing.” She glanced at her missing tail fondly.

“So then what do you suggest I do?” asked Eclipsed Heart. “I don’t want to hate Zell, Beatrix, or anyone…”

“Let’s offer them our cooperation,” the kunoichi suggested. “It’s as Seb said. We don’t have to like them to get along. This way, we can keep them honest and on track. And should he or Arron slip back to their old ways, we will neutralize them swiftly.”

“That… sounds good; I like that plan!” Eclipsed beamed, feeling as if boulders were lifted off her shoulders. “You always know the right thing to say, Kit! Thank you so much!”

“Hehe. She could put even the wisest of sages to shame,” teased Kyube, which made Kitsune blush and look away while Wispy shot him a suspicious glare. He caught a stray cherry blossom petal in his palm and showed it to her. “They say Sakura symbolizes a woman’s nobility and mystique, as well as life’s beginning, end, and renewal. I can’t think of a more fitting name for you. Should you abandon the alias of ‘Kitsune of the Nine Tails’?”

“That was merely a code name the syndicate used to label me. Sakura…” she shyly said, her rosy face half-hidden by her silky rust-colored mane. “It’s a common name, but… I may consider it.”

“Hey! Don’t be giving my sister weird names, bandit!” warned Wispy, who side-eyed Kyube.

Chisana giggled and bounced on her heels while she smacked her drum a few times. Despite the uncertainty written across her nekomata bandmate’s features, Eclipsed felt her heart swell knowing Kitsune finally found someone else she could adequately connect with!

“Finding one’s true name is quite fulfilling,” came the voice of Layla, who stepped into the virtual landscape. “I should know; I’ve had many to choose from~!”

“Lady Night,” acknowledged the pop star with deference to her, still a bit uneasy by the demi-human’s divine presence. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“There is something I’d like to show you,” beckoned the mother of demons. “If you’ll come with me.”

Reluctantly, their musical instruments were put away when the four fell into line and followed the motherly succubus out of a virtual recreation room.

Layla led the attendees into an area labeled as the ‘training deck,’ its spacious white walls covered in grids. Already there was Lightning Spark hard at work, her electromancy on full display as she challenged herself to better channel her Onoma. Noticeably, her physique had started to fill out now that she wasn’t malnourished appropriately, her sculpted bosom and butt slightly jiggling within the neon fabrics of her Wonderbolt-style costume.

‘Guess I was blessed with mom’s assets after all,’ Lightning said internally, pausing to rub the suppleness of her firm rump, soft fat over lean muscles. The other hand clapped the pendant around her neck, recalling brief memories of Snowy Blizzard before the changelings abducted them. Shaking that aside, she reminded herself, “I must stay focused! Gotta train hard to master this Onoma!”

Taking to the air once more, the pegasus mare concentrated on conducting electricity from her wings, wild sparks popping across her fur and feathers, which stood on end. Her audience observed as the room flashed with blue light as Lightning Spark built a current that tickled her entirely to control and redirect it at will.

She pictured a Mi-Go changeling, raised her hand, and shouted a war cry as she zapped the virtual projection with a crackling electrical blue beam. The air filled with a burning smell while her ears flicked at the whooshing sound.

“Woohoo! I did it! YES!” She pumped a fist. “I'll master this in no time! Then Equinox won't be able to treat me like a shrimp!” Bolstered by a newly found confidence, not to mention a need to prove herself, she increased the voltage. Currents flowed through her fully extended plumage, spiky mane, and tail raised amidst the vibrations she emitted. The electricity tickled her until she was wrapped entirely in currents of yellow and blue bolts that encircled her.

Lightning released it all at once...and shouted when she conjured too much power beyond her level of control. Stray lightning bolts crashed across the grids, rocked the interior, and left small blackened holes that sizzled and steamed.

That’s when she realized she wasn’t the only one in the room, spotting five people below her. “Oh, crap! WATCH OUT!!”

While B.A.B.E. and the bandits ducked and covered, Layla unfurled her wingspan and summoned a pale glowing shield around herself and those behind her. The scattered bolt bounced off and pierced a scorched hole through the ship, the Glamorguis pulsing in discomfort.

It looked like a violent storm had torn through the room by the time it was over. Lightning Spark floated down once she managed to disenchant her Onoma.

“Are you okay?! I-I'm so sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

“Glad to see you're enjoying the facilities,” Layla assured with a titter, dropping her magical barrier while the others eased up.

Lightning was thankful no one got hurt. And that her costume was insulated. Otherwise, no doubt she'd be showing off her goods to everyone in the room!

She surveyed the extensive damage done and bit into her bottom lip. “I don't have any money, so I can't pay for repairs, but I'll make it up to you somehow! Promise!”

Layla held a hand up to her face and laughed. “Not to worry, my dear. Pallium has recovered from worse injuries. Observe!” With one hand on a wide hip, her other hand clicked her fingers. The blackened, damaged portions of the ship instantaneously regenerated before their eyes, fleshy-like liquids bubbling to fill in the holes and then hardening into place.

“Whoa! That looked like biotech,” observed Wispy.

“That’s exactly right,” confirmed Layla. “The Glamorguis are perfect hybrids composed of technology and biomaterial, melded together by ancient magic. It can heal even the most severe wounds. If Varys were still alive, I'd imagine he would want one for himself.”

Kitsune scowled. “Technically, he’s already made one through his successor. The Nephilim, Viscera, correct?”

The midnight queen shared the vixen’s frown and said, “I suppose that is also true. Coupled with her intellect, she's dangerous if not handled carefully…”

“Not to mention her cellmate, Equinox,” Kyube added, arms tucked to his chest. “I worry that putting such an opportunistic brute with a conspiring corrupter will lead to something much worse. You saw how easily she turned Zeloph and Beatrix against each other!”

“Yeah,” muttered Eclipsed, averting her gaze. “Not even Seb was that malicious. And I can’t stand that asshat!”

“I understand your concerns,” acknowledged Layla. “But the Glamorguis has them on constant surveillance. The moment it detects suspicious activity, they will be sent directly into its digestive system.”

Lightning wiped her brow with a sigh. “Well, that's good to know.” She then shifted focus to the pop princess, smiling and waving. “You must be Eclipsed Heart! Nice to meet you! You’re nearly identical to my brother’s wife, Cerise!”

“So I’ve heard,” said Eclipsed, returning her smile. “A pleasure to meet you, too!”

Wipsy looked around the gridded room with swaying tails. “I’mma take a guess and say you brought us here to whip our butts in shape?”

Layla nodded. “In truth, we could return to Midnight’s world in no time at all. But let's take things slow, as not everyone has settled. After all, this could be the last time we can take it easy for a while, depending on how the crisis plays out. So please, indulge yourselves like this is your own home!” Her pale yellow and violet eyes found Kitsune’s orbs. “Do you remember what I said?”

“I do,” replied the fox woman, her fingers pressed to a wall. Her eyes closed when she focused; the bland, industrial surroundings warped around them until they appeared to be back in the Cyberverse. “It's exactly like-”

“-the virtual reality programs back in our world!” Wispy flashed her teeth with a grin. They were back on neon-lit streets, a puddle left to reflect the signs above that beamed advertisements to them. Not only that, her studded crimson catsuit now adorned her peach-shaped curves. “What do you think, Butterbuns?”

A wistful smile lit the diva’s face. “It's pretty convincing; I have to admit. But it only makes me miss everyone else even more. Especially Bass… If only there was a way-”

“-you could contact him?” There was a twinkle in Layla's eye. “Hmm… does anyone have a phone I may borrow?”

“Ō!” The little raccoon dog fished inside her large sack before finding the compact heart-shaped device Eclipsed gave her and handed it over.

“Excellent! One moment please.”

After a few adjustments, the piece of tech that had been reduced to little more than a hunk of plastic and metal whirred back to life when it started. The primordial woman gave the phone back to Eclipsed, who felt her heart almost skip a beat. “U-Unbelievable! It almost looks brand new! You even managed to get me a signal across dimensions! C-can I...?”

“Of course,” replied Layla with a subdued laugh. “Perhaps you'd like some privacy?”

Wispy butted her way into the pop idol's side. “No way! And miss all the juicy details? Good thing this phone was useless when you handed it to Chisana!” She covered the raccoon's ears and winked with a leer. “Wouldn't want her to see you and Bass' steamy sex video when he popped that sweet cherry~!”

“Watashi wa kodomode wa arimasen!” The tanuki girl complained.

“WISPY!” Eclipsed blushed from head to toe, overwhelmed by a sudden desire to run, hide, and crawl away to die. “WILL O' WISP!” She punched her bassist in the arm, her snout drawn in a fierce sneer.

“Heeey, I was only teasing you, girl! And you know I hate my stupid codename,” Wispy said with a hiss as she rubbed her arm. “Yeesh, princess. It’s not like you to hit below the belt like that!”

“Serves you right with the constant 'Princess Butterbuns' cracks! You make me sound fat!”

They stared down at each other, hands planted on their hips, a rare moment of drawn-out tension between the band members. Kitsune stride forward, always the voice of reason whenever her bandmates butt heads.

“Quit it, you two! Before I—”

Thankfully, the moment was interrupted by Mezzo Soprano’s face appearing on screen. The mother of Sixth Measure and President of the Capital had a hardened expression that quickly softened upon seeing her son’s girlfriend. “Eclipsed? Is that really you?!”

“Mom…uh, I mean Mezzo!! Yeah, it’s me!”

“Oh, thank the stars, you’re alright.” A relieved smile lit the siren’s face. “Boys! Come quick!!”

Almost immediately, three handsome faces popped into view, each gasping with delight.

“Holy shit, they’re alive!!” Alto exclaimed.

“Heeeey~!!” Called out Tenor.

The eldest brother beamed brightly. “Eclipsed!!”

“Bass!” Eclipsed cried, her heart doing somersaults. “You have no idea how much I miss you right now!!”

“Miss you too, babe,” chuckled the lead singer. “Y-You too, Wispy! Kitsune! Where the heck are you?”

“You wouldn’t believe us if we told you,” quipped the cat woman.

“I’ll believe anything at this point,” Mezzo said. “There’s been a global crisis since you and the demi-humans disappeared.”

“Crazy ass storm has been going on non-stop,” added Alto.

“Buildings and landscapes keep disappearing and reappearing,” said Tenor. “It’s like the whole city’s being glitched!”

“Oh no! The storms have already reached the Cyberverse?!”

The mayor arched an eyebrow. “So it’s been happening elsewhere as well.”

“It’s a cataclysmic event that will wipe out everything,” answered Layla, taking a step forward.

Tenor backed away. “Whoa! Another demi-human!?”

“Bruh, she’s got huge fucking titties—aauugh!!”

Alto held his slapped cheek while his mother rolled her eyes. “I taught you better manners than that… anyway, you are?”

“Layla. Mother of all demons, Matriarch of the Lilim. You can say I’m a prominent figure for the demi-humans.”

“Charmed. And how many of your kind are there?”

“Not counting myself? Six. This includes the three that came to your world.”

“That would be Arron, Seb, and Zeloph, I presume.”

When Layla gave the nod, Mezzo continued. “I see… I hate to bring this up, but should any of them dare return to the Cyberverse, expect them to be apprehended by military force.”

The pop star’s smile dropped. “W-what?!”

“I can understand the hostilities against Arron and Seb,” cut in Kitsune. “But why Zeloph? Surely, he didn’t break any laws during his brief time there...?”

“No, he did not,” confirmed the siren mayor. “But it wasn’t until he showed up that this cosmic squall began. Since then, the general public has blamed Zeloph and others like him. And as mayor, I have a responsibility to ensure the safety of my city. Henceforth, any demi-human spotted here will be brought into custody by any means necessary.”

Eclipsed was appalled. “B-But that’s not fair! He didn’t do this; it was an—”

“I don’t like it any more than you,” said Bass. “He kept those two demon heads at bay and prevented major collateral damage. He’s a hero in my book!”

“But that cancel culture for you,” scoffed Alto. “There’s always assholes who want to run your name in the ground and will stoke the fires of mob mentality to do it.”

“It's human nature to fear the unknown,” Layla said uneasily. “It pains me to hear this, but I will respect your decision and ensure my kindred stay away from your area. At least, for the time being.”

“It’s nothing personal,” assured Mezzo. “But we’ve got other problems to deal with.”

Lightning Spark tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

Bass pursed his lips. “S.L.U.T. formed a search party with the Komodo gang despite our protests. I’d do the same if I didn’t know you’d cross dimensions! Unfortunately, Carrion, Ruth, and Obrya all vanished when the storm hit us. We're not sure where they've been teleported. Satellites couldn’t find a trace of them.”

Mezzo continued for him. “We’d hoped they were with you, but the lack of their presence on your end tells me otherwise.”

Eclipsed's frown deepened. “This isn’t good. We haven't seen them anywhere!”

“We’ll find them,” reassured Layla, a hand on the pop princess' shoulder. “Count on it. Until then, you’ll need to prepare for the upcoming battle ahead of us. Here, I have something to help you fight more evenly with your companions.”

The pop icon reluctantly nodded, not wanting to be torn from her boyfriend so soon. But she waved and kissed goodbye before handing the phone to her bandmates so they could get Mezzo and Sixth Measure up to speed.

“This is Kyube and Chisana,” the vixen said, introducing the yokai bandits. “They’ve been helping us rediscover our yokai roots since our cybernetics stopped working outside the cyberverse.”

“Greetings!” The male vulpine said with a wave.

“Kon'nichiwa~!” The tanuki girl beamed.

“Salutations!”

“Hello there!”

“Oh, sweet, another fox! Does that mean Kitsune and you are—”

“Gimme!” said Wispy, who snatched up the phone with a saucy grin. “Oh, Alto~!” She winked at the male siren that now took up most of the screen.

“H-hey,” the middle brother said with a flustered face. “Damn, it’s great to see you again!”

“Good boy~! And maybe I've missed you too. A little. Though it’s quite hot here. I've been training so hard~...” A lie since she hadn't even started yet. But the nekomata couldn’t help but tease by unzipping her catsuit, drawing it between her breasts that almost toppled out with a bounce, barely contained zipper over her exposed tummy to stop above her mound to tantalize one of her old boy toys.

Eclipsed rolled her eyes and waited for Layla to finish enchanting her roller skates. Once she could put them back on, she raced around on a virtualized block, a hot pink streak trailing her motions through the streets. “These are a lot faster! And handle much better!”

“That's not all,” assured Layla. “Kitsune offered a great suggestion. Try moving up one of the walls!”

The pop princess glided towards one of the buildings to discover her skates clung to its surface. She could stick to it at will like she'd seen the kunoichi do numerous times. She then launched herself off on instinct, able to propel herself across the air in small boosts in a trail of neon.

“W-Wow!” She tumbled like an acrobat, deftly landing on her skates with a balletic bow. “Thank you so much!”

Kyube and Chisana clapped from the sidelines.

“Not bad,” praised Lightning Spark. “This place has got some incredibly tall buildings! Perfect for aerial combat!”

“Then why don’t you train with us?” The fox bandit suggested as he sidled up behind Kitsune, stroked the vixen's mane, and felt her momentarily tense up before her lithe muscles relaxed under his touch.

Eclipsed nodded, the virtual 'Cyberverse' a perfect battlefield to hone their skills in this chaotic urban labyrinth. "Let's do this!"

Layla took a step back, and after farewells were made to Mezzo Soprano and Sixth Measure for the moment, she took the phone and stuffed it between her massive bust to keep it safe while everyone present started to spar playfully.

Soon it wasn't far removed from one of B.A.B.E.’s flashier concerts, heavy with theatrics and acrobatics to keep them sharp before the musicians-turned-vigilantes would roam the late-night streets until early in the morning and fight the crime wave that constantly tore across their city. That was until Mezzo Soprano ousted President Spike and took over as mayor to establish a better government.

Thankfully, Layla's Glamorguis provided almost anything its passengers could wish for since wherever their hostess traveled, she had picked up more advanced technology and magic across different dimensions. Due to her ancient lifespan, her travels put even Beatrix to shame, and the mother of demons carried herself with an aura of forbidden wisdom and knowledge.

Layla watched them play as they trained with a smile while a neon light show played across her features.

The see-through sliding doors parted as Zeloph entered the infirmary. His heart heaved at the sight of Shadow Scythe, bedridden with IV tubes attached to her arms. A monitor rhythmically bleeped, her heart rate slow but stable. Quicksilver lay in a chair beside the bed, a slight rise and fall of his chest signifying he was merely asleep.

But it was who sat on the other side that made the fallen angel’s brows furrow. Beatrix lifted her head, almost spooked by his presence, before relaxing.

“H-hey…”

“Hey.”

Zell huffed uneasily and leaned against the wall across from the witch, arms folded to his chest. “I’m surprised you’re here.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she responded. “She’s my friend too; believe it or not, I feel responsible for this. I know there’s been plenty of bad blood between us, but… I want to think we’re mostly past that. We wouldn't have beaten the 'Burning King' and his Vice Lords without you two. And… I’m sorry for behaving so rashly. I shouldn’t have done that...”

“… I shouldn’t have either,” he admitted, head hung low. “I’m sorry I took my anger out on you. You didn’t deserve it.”

There was a moment of silence between them, their eyes on the unicorn reaper that helped solidify their alliance. When an imprisoned Zeloph had refused to partner up with Beatrix and her friends, Atalanta had stepped up, determined to make amends for past sins.

Another deep inhale, and he asked, “Level with me. What's the reason you don’t want the Necronomicon destroyed?”

“It's complicated,” confessed the witch, snout scrunched. “I-I acted impulsively, on instinct! I did it because I was scared! Scared of all the responsibility! Because there are many people, I want to protect and don't want to let down! Because I… because I don't want to die!”

She hid her face under the brim of her hat, squeezing her palms tightly. “If the Necronomicon is destroyed, I'll lose more than just my immortality. The Demiurge, the Prima Materia, my powers… it’ll all be gone! And without them, I’m nothing…”

His cerulean gaze softened. “… You want my honest opinion?”

“Not really, but go for it.”

“If you’re nothing without that book, you shouldn’t have its magic.”

Beatrix soured. “I didn’t ask to be born by it!”

Zell shrugged. “And I didn’t ask to be a demi-human, yet where we are. Not once did I want to acknowledge the divine blood that flows through my veins. Now… it seems it’s the only way to save the people I care about. But even then, I never needed it to do what’s right.”

He lifted himself off the wall to approach the violet mare. “And I believe you don’t need the Necronomicon to be a powerful witch. Plus, immortality is overrated! Watching time flow around you while you stay the same? Gah! Thinking about it drives me nuts!”

“I-I see your point, but… I like how I look now! I don’t want that to change if I start aging again.”

“You’ll get over it,” assured Zeloph. “But what frightens you more? Growing old and gray with Oona or watching her wither away alone?”

“… Ohh.”

“Didn’t consider that, huh? Life and death aren’t opposites. Both depend on each other to maintain a natural balance. And neither is intentionally cruel…” He paused to stare at his resting sweetheart. “… even when it feels that way.”

“But what about the Cult of the Nemesis?” Beatrix asked. “I thought I'd finally finished them all off, but here they are, back in a new incarnation! Why? Probably because this other 'anomaly' resurrected them as a fear tactic! They've pushed me into a corner! Like those Eldritch invaders that destroyed Cerise's world, the cult will follow me across dimensions! I’ve already caused Oona so much grief!”

“You don't know that for sure—”

“The 'anomaly' can help them cross! And even if they couldn't follow, you want me to leave Midnight's world to its awful fate? Can't you see it's an impossible choice?! Damned if I do, damned if I don't!” Beatrix clenched her teeth.

“So what if they do?”

She glanced up at him with watery eyes. “Huh?"

“Consider the other possibility,” said Zeloph. “Leave for the Lost World. Say the cult follows you. That’s one less threat for our comrades to deal with in Midnight’s world. I have a sneaking suspicion this 'anomaly' wants to distract us and keep everyone on edge and off balance. It’s not just a fear tactic, Beatrix. They want to divide and conquer! It's what I would have done if I was still villainous.”

The witch rubbed her chin between her fingers, considering the notion as her former flame continued. “Point is, you can't afford to play the game by their rules. It’s how fiends like Varys or Viscera thrive.”

“But then I'll be putting Oona and Abadonna in more danger! Not to mention her friends and family!”

“They’re already in danger,” the angelic demi pointed out. “The Isle of Parras is getting ready to go to war with the Sovereign Witch and what’s left of the Vice Lords. But that doesn’t matter because nowhere will be safe when the multiverse ends!”

Zell firmly gripped her bare shoulders to drive his point home, staring intensely into her eyes. “Time is precious, Beatrix. If you don’t return now, you might never see them again. Is that something you’re willing to risk..?”

Beatrix’s lip quivered, trembling in her ex-lover's grasp before she flung her arms around him and sobbed into his chest. “No, you’re right! I have to go back. They need me. I need them!”

Zeloph returned the embrace, patting her shoulder. “I think that’s the right decision. And if it helps, after I’ve dealt with Mortis, I'll help you even the odds.”

The witch pulled away to wipe her cheeks and snout, sniffling, “T-Thank you…” Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Quicksilver begin to stir awake. “I better go and give you guys some space. Don’t want to take up any more of your limited time. Take care of yourself, Zell.”

Beatrix parted with a kiss to his cheek and exited the infirmary as the elderly stallion stretched his tired limbs, pale blue eyes finding his would-be son-in-law’s. “You look like shit,” he chuckled dryly.

“Could say the same about you, old timer,” retorted Zell, noting how Quicksilver’s movements visibly slowed, dust and particles unraveling from his physical body. A reminder that the sands of time were running out for the famed huntsmen.

He chuckled and coughed. “Aaagh… Spent too much black blood trying to keep this corpse going in the last battle. Went all-out for Atalanta's sake. Reckon I’ve got a few more minutes, at most.”

“I wish there was some way I could—”

His mustache stretched with his smile once he shook his head. “Listen to me, son. I don’t regret it. Not if it helped you and my daughter.”

After placing a long kiss on the reaper mare’s forehead, Quicksilver hobbled over to where Beatrix sat, allowing Zell to sit closer to Shadow Scythe. “Heh. Nice and warm on the tush. All I’ve been feeling now is cold in this damned shell.”

He glanced at the couple, watching the kindly demi-human massage the unicorn’s knuckles with his thumbs, which brought a big old grin to his face. “Heh. Y’know, when I look at you and Atalanta, It brings me back to my golden days at the academy. Where I used to court her mother, Quiver Bolt. Or rather… she approached me first. Took my research into cryptids seriously when most people called me a kook behind my back.”

Zeloph listened intently while the old stallion reminisced about their history. When he and Quiver Bolt went into the wilds as hunters and discovered that the fictional Jabberwocky was real. He also told him about the various weapons he'd collected over the years, which would eventually include the 'Vorpal Blade.'

“That’s enough of this old dog’s tales,” coughed Quicksilver. “The truth is… I approve of you, Zeloph. Where I thought it was impossible, you managed to bring the best out of Atalanta. And I’m glad I could finally see my little girl shine.”

A solitary tear streaked across his weathered face. With a soft exhale, he asked, “Could you… Humor an old man's final request?”

Zeloph briefly looked away, smoothing Atalanta's white locks from her face. “Of course.”

“If she comes out this alive… promise me you’ll take care of my daughter. Look after her. And love her with all your heart.”

“I-I mean, that goes without question. Why such a…”

Zeloph’s question died in his throat when he looked back up to find Quicksilver no longer sitting there. He bolted from his seat, his face fell, and his breath hitched.

Dirt and dust piled on the chair, spilling down onto the floor.

A short distance away, at another part of the main lobby, gathered most of the demi-humans to blow off steam after their little training session. A small radio played noir jazz to lighten the mood. The pot was composed of playing chips, fuzzy handcuffs, a dagger with a crimson skull hilt, a gold-plated championship belt, and a feathered hat.

Julianne was tasked with being both the moderator and dealer, being the least likely out of her peers to cheat or hand out handicaps. After shuffling the deck, she tossed each player five new cards to start the next round.

Ana pouted upon looking over her hand and growled in frustration. “Y’all 're plainer than vanilla,” the demoness complained. “C’mon, let’s spice it up wif sum strip poker!”

“Keep it in your panties, thot,” grunted Arron. "Trying to concentrate!"

“'mph! Jokes on you! I never wear knickers!”

“Didn’t ask. Anyway, I’ve got a good hand this round! That pot’s gonna be mine~!”

“I hope you realize that saying ‘you’ve got a good hand’ isn’t as convincing as the first four fucking times you said it,” Seb said with slight annoyance.

“It’s all part of the mind games, Sebby boi,” the burly demon answered with a cheeky grin… which quickly diminished as he nervously reviewed his hand.

“That requires a brain first,” snarked Bellatrix, who left Iclyn and Dion to join these unlikely companions in their delightful game of gambling and banter.

“Hey, I ain’t dumb! I eat pieces of shit like you for breakfast!”

The neon demon cheekily retorted, “Oh, is that why your breaf smells loike arse~?”

Arron slammed the table. “Shut your cockhole!”

“You make it too easy for them, dear,” the rosy-haired nun admitted, failing to suppress a giggle.

“Grrrrrn!”

“Hey, hey! Cool it, muscles,” the card demon encouraged. “No one's saying you're the dumbest person alive… just be cautious when that poor bastard bites the dust, is all~.”

While the three demons continued to laugh at the wrestler’s expense, Demi-Trix fluttered in with a tray of freshly made margaritas and liquor. The miniature mare watched as Ana and Bellatrix folded while Seb and Arron went head to head. The crafty gambler had a pair of aces, which would have won him the pot if Arron hadn’t had…

“What! Two’s and three’s?! D’oh, son of a bitch!!”

“Ha! And the crowd goes wild,” boasted Arron, cupping his hands to make a falsetto cheer before scooping his spoils with one big arm. “Who's the dumbass now~?”

Taking a deep inhale to recompose himself, the pinstriped devil said, “Y’know, I could say something mean and nasty to you, but I’ll be the bigger man here…”

“Ohh. Well, hey! Props to you for being a—”

“Is something I would say if I were a bigger man. Choke on the deepest part of my shaft, you fuckwit!”

“—annnnd there it is.”

Seb cast his glare on the tittering tulpa. “Oh, you think it’s funny? A man’s pride is squashed by a brick wall on legs, and you’re laughing!”

“Maybe next time, you should invest in a bigger bandana to hide that fat mouth~!” Demi-Trix teased.

“… Heh! Alright, pipsqueak. I’ll give you that one.”

“Another round?” Asked Julianne.

Each contestant nodded and handed their cards to the angelic demi to be reshuffled.

Seb sighed with contentment while easing into his chair. “This brings me back to one of the best wagers I ever took. Had a job in the little western part of the Cyberverse. After collecting my bounty, the sheriff and I played an intense game of Texas Hold ‘Em until chips and coins were no longer cutting it.”

“So what did you win,” Bellatrix asked with mild interest and leaned on her chin as her spade-tip tail reached under the table and traded a card with Ana's flytrap. “His highest paying courtesan?”

“Too easy,” huffed Seb. “I won me the county’s most prized possession. A Union Pacific Big Boy!”

The table gazed at the gambling demon with perplexity, to which he clarified, “… It’s a big ass steam engine. See?”

He held up one of his capture cards that depicted the iron behemoth on twenty sets of wheels and steam spouting out the funnel, gaining a collective ‘ooh~.’

The she-devil’s skepticism deepened. “Why did you want that? What use would you possibly have for a coal-reliant machine that can’t run without rails?!”

“The same reason one gets an oversized manor with too many rooms and insufficient people?”

“… touché.” She'd planned to fill them out, of course…until Esmeralda and Camellia betrayed her. Just like the manor itself and Alma had, after the Vice Lord had promised Oona would be safe.

“Plus, trains are just cool by design. Don’t need a real reason other than that.”

“Boys will be boys,” mused Ana, as she and Bellatrix played 'footsie' with their tails, another card traded on the sly.

Seb chuckled behind his bandana. “Say, didn't you mention someone won a sea vessel of sorts?”

“Ashen Dunes,” elaborated Bellatrix as she studied her new hand of cards with narrow eyes. “Which had been converted into the world's lone airship. The young prince always seemed more frivolous than Cerise or Penumbra.” She sighed, not meaning to invoke the names of Ashen's now-captured sister and brother.

Thankfully, the next round picked up, and each player raised the ante by a few more chips. Everyone seemed to believe they had the winning hand and made their calls.

“Two pair, jacks and queens!” Arron announced smugly.

“Ooh, sorry, lov! Better luck next time~,” Ana purred, revealing a straight hand.

“Are you fucking my dick right now? What a bunch of bull!” the burly demon fussed. Even with shades on, he was lacking lacked when it came to the poker face department.

“Ha! Read 'em and weep!” Seb exclaimed, showing a full house that wiped the smile off the lilim’s face.

“Wot?! Nah way ya 'ad anovver ace of 'earts, ya cheatin' bowler tit for tat!”

Julianne shook her head. “No sleight of hand, tucked sleeves or anything.”

“Sounds like a skill issue,” the card demon taunted.

“Dine on me ass brownies, ya merchant banker!”

“Sucks to suck, suckubus~! I’ll be taking back what’s rightfully mine—”

“Not so fast, Sebastion,” Bellatrix tittered as she coyly revealed her hand. “I believe this one trumps them all?”

His bravado dropped instantly. “Whoa! Five of a kind?!”

Grumbles arose around the table as the red-skinned succubus pulled the pot close to her bosom, grinning while her spaded tail whipped behind her. “I could get used to this~!”

Seb slumped in his chair, arms folded. “That’s the third time I’ve been beaten at my own game. I’ve lost my mojo!”

“Seem you shouldn’t have spent all your luck in the last battle,” Julianne said, stroking his shoulder.

Arron groaned, “Man, this sucks! Can’t we arm wrestle instead?”

“Ooh! Or maybe sum mud wrestlin',” Anarchia proposed while wiggling her hips. Eying Bellatrix with hooded lids, she went on, “C’mon, Bella! I'll take ya on! Or 're ya too scared ter get daahhhn and dirty~?”

“I'd rather stay clean, thank you very much,” refused Bellatrix. “Already had enough muck and grime on me when I was a prisoner…”

So they settled on another game, though a notable melancholy hung over the table.

“… I wish Zelly was 'ere,” admitted Analise, pouting her lips.

“Yeah, me too,” added Arron.

“Me three,” whined Demi-Trix.

“It’s better he spends what time he can with Shadow Scythe,” insisted Bellatrix, though even she was struggling to hide her sadness.

“Before she…” Julianne couldn’t finish her sentence.

Seb sighed heavily, unable to distract himself from the game anymore from the hopelessness of the situation. Everyone fell silent for a lengthy period; heads hung slightly.

The spell was momentarily broken when Arcanum Folklore walked in. “Sorry to interrupt, but mind if I deal me self in? I could use a round.”

Seb shrugged. “Eh, don’t see why not. Anyone opposed?”

When the demi-humans and Bellatrix shook their heads, the erenn stallion pulled himself a chair.

“Brought a present I found on one of Fiery's dead troopers,” he said, chucking a worn deck of cards on the table’s center. “Not slain by me hand, mind you, but I thought, why waste an opportunity? Didn't find much value. Just rations, a canteen, a few basic supplies such as a map and compass, and...”

Julianne took the new cards out, and her face went red. “Aahk! So indecent!!”

Analise scooped them up and whistled. “Oi, check these babies aahhht~!”

“Classy,” came Bellatrix's sarcastic reply at the nude mares depicted on each card, each of them a picture of heroic mares lost in previous wars. Celestia, Luna, Cadance, the Elements of Harmony, and several other key historical figures adorned them, all draped in sensual poses.

“Yeesh. Not a lot of heroic dudes in that dimension, huh?” Arron said with a frown.

“Most of them are perverts and misogynists from what I gathered,” noted Seb, examining the card with delicate fingers. “But hey, sex sells! And these beauties could make a couple thousand.” He looked at the warlock and asked, “Think these decks are standard issue?”

“Me thoughts exactly,” answered Arcanum. “Fiery’s been encouraging his stallions to breed all the mares they can and knock them up so they'll produce the next generation of 'heroes'! Wish I had a shot at that creep myself!” He sat down and rubbed his ribs, hesitant to use the onboard facilities to help, hoping his natural regeneration would kick in instead.

Sadly, his hopes hadn't borne fruit so far, and the scruffy detective was curious if the different dimensional rules had neutralized many of his skills.

Nonetheless, the players accepted the new set of nude cards.

“They appear to be unmarked,” observed Demi-Trix. “You know what I mean?”

“No enchantments that I can discern,” promised Julianne as she shuffled her hand. “Just a basic deck otherwise!”

“Maybe the rest of you can finally catch up to my level,” Bellatrix challenged with a sly smirk.

“Oh, you mean the ground floor? Cause that’s where you're going after I take back my riches,” proclaimed Seb.

“Yeah, bring it on, succubitch!!” Arron pumped his meaty fist.

Ana snickered. “Not unless I beat the chuffin' parmers off ya soddy cunts and bumholes~!”

“Now, hold on,” interjected the nun. “We all added a unique item to the pool, and we can't use the cards for that, so...what about you, Arcanum? You must have something special of your own?”

“That I do,” admitted Arcanum, who reluctantly withdrew weapons from his coat. A Kurdish dagger, a hook-like mechanism that could be fired and retracted, and a heavy rifle with no ammo were placed on the table and made the coins clink.

Seb gazed at each weapon, intrigued. “Pretty slick arsenal, you got there!”

“Just a few token trinkets, really,” huffed the erenn unicorn. “Lost most of me best stuff during the dimensional hop.”

“You should invest in some capture cards,” the pin-striped devil suggested, wielding his signature deck, each depicting a different weapon, tool, vehicle, and artifact. “Makes traveling a hell of a lot easier. I can spare you a few blanks… for a reasonable price~.”

“Mmm. Tempting offer,” the warlock considered, stroking his fuzzy chin. “But I ain’t got much left. And I’ll be needing the firepower for whatever's ahead.”

“This isn’t a serious game,” Bellatrix assured him. “Just something to help pass the time. Plus, I'm certain Layla has a personal artillery room where you can find suitable replacements?”

“Huh… yeah, that sounds good to me. How about when I win, you all owe me a drink on top of the pot's prizes?”

And with that, another game of bluffs and callouts happened, ending with each party member going all in. But it was Seb who finally made up for his losses, washing away the competition with a royal flush and scooping the pot to his corner.

“Buggar,” grumbled Arcanum, who took an offered cup from Demi-Trix and gulped the contents down. “Should have brought me rabbit's foot.”

“Eh, don’t be so glum,” assured Seb. “You had a great hand. But I don’t think I could take another game of having my ass smoked by the paper cutout again.” He gestured to Bellatrix, who gave a heated glare from that remark.

“Still, that was fun. Now if you’ll excuse me…” The charitable nun returned the stallion’s weapons and fortunes before the warlock took off, leaving the group to their game of distraction.

The moment Shadow Scythe's heart was pierced, she'd slipped into a comatose state. Trapped and haunted by dreams she couldn't awaken from. The weight of her compounded sins was so heavy, impossible to overcome, let-alone bear.

In the latest one, she wandered the darkness garbed in nothing but the bandages that once served as underwear beneath her pale robes. Her magic was gone, unable to fly or so much as float. Forced to walk and stumble awkwardly across an empty void that loomed ahead.

Atalanta shivered, the coldness of solitude gradually overtaking her frail form while she traversed the shadows alone. A place that had once been her sanctuary now turned upon the reaper.

She stopped, sensing a presence hidden within the darkness. “Show yourself!”

Despite knowing it was futile, Shadow Scythe tried to summon up her signature sickles. Or cast a spell. Or call upon her Onoma. Yet all her tricks failed her; her sharp mind her only weapon left. She braced herself for an ambush.

Suddenly, both her sides materialized her fellow order of reapers, one by one, each dressed in a color unique to them since they represented different forms of death. One of the hooded reapers, dressed in scarlet. Another in emerald. Violet. Yellow. Gray lurked at the head, the founder and leader of their number—stewards of the afterlife, fated to direct all lost souls to their final destination.

Shadow Scythe had once worn white robes like a phantom. Danse Macabre, the closest person she'd had to a 'friend' before her treachery, was shrouded in black. Around her, all the flowing robes were torn apart. They were reenacting how she mercilessly cut them down with a sickle.

“You butchered them,” came the disembodied voice of Danse Macabre. He arrived as she remembered him, a reasonably plain stallion, the scroll with the spell she'd helped him research and complete tucked under his thun arm. His other hand pointed to her in accusation when he proclaimed, “Betrayer!”

“Yes. I murdered them,” she confessed, as blood pooled from the slumped robes of the colorful, fallen reapers. Her eyes were wet, but she didn’t deny her remorse. Didn’t turn and run from it. “Is that why you're here? Have you come to fulfill my punishment? To claim my soul and then send me to the ether?”

While the flesh melted from his skull and skeleton, Danse Macabre's black robes turned to tatters, and Mortis Saltaire coldly announced, “I have, Atalanta.”

He descended on her, her icy blue eyes drawn to a chasm that opened below, where heat and brimstone radiate. At Equestria's core, the path to Tartarus became more horrific and hellish the further one dared descend into it.

Where she'd encountered Lord Grogar, where she'd been seduced by power to his side and ultimately sealed her fate.

Closing her eyes, the pale mare felt Mortis seize her left arm and pull her down towards the infernal pits, only to feel another hand grasp the other. Her eyes opened wide to see Zeloph, who tried to raise her skywards, the brilliant light of heaven shining down behind the seraph. “Atalanta! Hang on!”

Caught in a tug-of-war between her beloved and nemesis, she clutched onto Zell's hand. Were she able, the reaper mare would have used her scythe to cut off her arm if necessary to pull away from Mortis, determined to be with her beloved, whatever the personal cost!

“You are unworthy of forgiveness, traitor! Only damnation and perpetual torment await you!” Mortis clawed with bony fingers at her, bandages torn from her thin pale blue frame, as the wraps unraveled and left her all but denuded, vulnerable before the decrepit lich.

“Don’t listen to him!” Zell cried, desperate to draw her towards his warmth and light when he pulled back. “You can be saved. Just don’t let go. Don’t surrender!”

Atalanta nodded with watery eyes full of determination, throwing her weight towards her love and aiding in his ascent whether she was considered redeemable. Aware that mired in her sins and suffering, she would never make amends! She could save lives! Learn to love!

To truly live, for the first time in her life, rather than pursue her ambitions for the sake of power! "Zell, I'm with you…!"

The last of her bandages fell away. Her nude body pressed to Zeloph as they met in a kiss and a twirl, surrounded by illumination. Below their ascent, Mortis bellowed in frustration below their ascent, after which his skeletal fingers slipped from her once the lich vanished into the fiery Tartarus.

They reached heavenward higher and higher until the ethereal illumination enveloped her vision… which slowly regained focus on her lover’s face. Sounds of systematic beeping greeted her ears when she rose from her bed.

Shadow Scythe's nails dug into Zell's arm with such force she drew blood; her lips pressed to his own. Her cheeks colored as her mouth withdrew. She murmured, “Zeloph... S-Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you.”

The angelic demi-human shook his head with a gentle smile. “Don’t be. I'm just so glad you’re awake!”

She mustered a smile of her own. Never before had she been more comfortable with another. So intimate, vulnerable, even. Her soulmate. “You've been by my side this whole time...?”

“Such a silly question,” he chuckled, though it sounded like a half cry. “Of course I have.”

Atalanta relaxed and held his bloodied arm with tender hands.

His face dimmed. “I… I only wish I had better news to share. But your father, Quicksilver Bullet… His body couldn’t…” Sucking in a breath, he found the words and courage to speak what his beloved had already assumed. “… He passed on while you were unavailable. But he spent his last moments with you. Telling you how proud he was. And how much he loved you.”

The pale mare teared up. “Father....” Her eyes wandered to an urn nearby, which she realized contained the dust of her father's body after it had broken down. She forced back her pained smile, confident he would want her to be happy.

“… Did he at least give you his blessing?”

Zell dryly laughed and said, “Yeah, he did. I’ll have to find a ring perfect for your finger.”

She traced his cheek. “I wonder… What would our wedding look like? I’d imagine it would be quite different from Cerise's.”

“Anyone you’d invite?”

“Hard to say. Ex-villains like us don't exactly have the closest friends.”

“So… everyone except Belladonna.”

Shadow Scythe snorted. “Pft! She can come after she’s cleaned up her mess. And even then, she’ll likely skip the ceremony and go straight for the after-party.”

They shared a small titter before the reaper inhaled deeply and slumped in her bed. Zeloph glanced at her heart monitor, the beeping starting to slow. Her hands felt cold in his own while they held onto each other.

Her dim eyes met his own, and the color drained from her thin shape. “I-I came back one last time,” she murmured softly. “I would've clawed my way out of hell, were it necessary, simply to see you. To make certain you know how much you mean to me, now and always…”

His pupils shrank. “Atalanta—”

“Zell… A reaper always knows when someone’s time is up. I've been avoiding my fate for so long. If I went any further, I’d only end up like Mortis. I’ve done many things in life that will forever haunt me. But my greatest regret? I… I only wish I had met you sooner…”

“No!” the angel wept, his face contorted with anguish, sadness streaking down his cheeks like rain. “Please..!”

Atalanta mustered all her strength to keep her smile. “Zeloph… you are my salvation. My grace. My love. These last moments with you, fighting by your side… they’re the best I’ll ever have.”

Her smile faded in sync with the slowdown of the monitor's blip.

“A request… before I'm on my way?”

Zeloph held her hands between his and nodded, trembling like a leaf.

Stray tears leaked out of Atalanta’s gaze.

“… Kiss me one last time. Kiss me with everything you’ve got. Only then will I allow you to move on and find someone else…”

Zeloph broke down into sobs, shaking his head. “There is no one else for me, Atalanta,” his voice cracked. “It’s you I want! You, I desire! I could never love anyone more than I love you!”

Her weak smile reappeared. “Heh… Even as I lay dying, you say the most romantic things. Go ahead… kiss me, you fool..!”

With that declared, Zeloph pulled her into a long kiss with all the passion and love in his being. As the couple embraced in tears, Atalanta relished in thoughts of what could have been.

To marry and make love. To raise children together. To pass the years with him. All that is ashes to ashes, earth to earth, and dust to dust. A fate an immortal reaper was never meant to meet. For she knew the rest of her family line would end with her. Atalanta allowed her heavy eyelids to close, content to meet her fate in her lover’s arms.

Zeloph buried his face into her limp form to muffle his crying as the heart monitor bleeped slower and slower… until it made a harrowing, continuous buzz.