Undeath and Rebirth

A crash of thunder shook the cottage Lady Oona Ewe and her daughter, Abadonna, took shelter in; the enclosure was rattled by rain and gales that increased in intensity by the hour. Brushing aside a curtain, the pregnant shamaness peeked out the window. “Sweet lucid dreams! How does anyone work in these conditions..?!”

Oona squinted to see the village in the distance under a constant deluge that drizzled from thick clouds. Barely a few lights were visible.

“It'll die down before midnight,” assured Abby, more focused on her drawing. Crayons and paper littered the floor, depicting her in the likeness of a superhero, fighting bad guys with her master spells. Also surrounding the dark blue caprine girl were the three plushies that Demi-Trix left behind, hard at work in re-enacting said events.

Oona squatted down and leaned in to peer over Abby's shoulder. “Oh my! Aren’t ye th' little artist~?” The dream faun praised with motherly pride the child's skill above her current age. “Such colorful illustrations! Where did ye learn tae draw sae well?”

“Self-taught,” Abby beamed and held up the pictures to proudly show them off. It depicted a similarly colored pegasus with a held-back mane, holding up a scimitar. Next to him, grasping his hand, was a deep crimson pegasus mare with twin braids.

One curled her brow curiously. “Do they have names?”

Abadonna nodded her head with eagerness. “Uh-huh! They’re Sinbad Monsoon and Scheherazade Simoon, or ‘Schera’ for short! Brother and sister from a royal lineage, venturing throughout the desert in a faraway land—u-uuh! I mean!” Her cheeks colored, and she tucked the piece aside with a fidget. “Oops…”

It took the elder ewe a moment for it to click that these weren’t just drawings of characters her twelve-year-old daughter thought of. They were depictions of future children, the desert duo sharing some resemblance to Midnight and Cerise!

Her honey brown widened, quickly scanning the pile of colored paper before spotting one that looked like her brother, a grayish black ram with white stripes, a head of hair styled in a mohawk, and what looked like a shillelagh in hand. “I-Is that—?”

“Barbatus,” admitted Abby shyly. “My cousin and your nephew…”

“Wha… A-A’m baffled that mah brother would e'en settle down wit one mare, let alone have—Oh wait! A’m not supposed tae know this, aren’t Ah?” Her expression turned to horror. “Oh no! What have A—A’ve doomed yer future!”

“H-Hey hey! Mom, it’s okay!” The little sheep child assured, giving her mother a jerk. “You haven’t done anything. So long as their parents don’t know, they should be fine.”

The azure caprine heaved a large breath, taking some solace in knowing she didn’t unravel more of the timeline ahead. Still, she was quite curious as to who the mother of her nephew was. Lady Ewe could clearly see Dion in the image, yet not so much the crystal twins…

The Child of Lightendark then held up another drawing. This time of, a tangerine-skinned devil girl with short dark blue hair, a pair of angelic and demonic wings, and a toothy smile across her face. Next to her was a white-haired angel with a black bar scribbled over his eyes, a sickle-shaped sword in his grasp. Both their tails were tipped with flowers, giving away their heritage.

Oona pursed her lips when asking, “Children ov Zeloph..?”

Abby nodded. “Zoë and Zane. One thinks she can get away with murder, being the ‘Princess of Hell’, or whatever. And the other thinks he’s the only one who has ‘real’ responsibilities.” The young witch rolled her eyes. “Honestly can’t stand those two at times!”

Despite her daughter’s annoyance with the demi siblings, Oona felt a tinge of sorrow weighing down her heart. With the knowledge that Shadow Scythe had been cruelly murdered for her past transgressions, this meant her widowed lover would sire offspring with someone else. Which was a shame since Zeloph’s son shared many characteristics with the reaper mare…

Regardless, seeing a glimpse of what Abadonna’s future was like only strengthened Oona’s will to ensure the calamity would not come to pass.

She regained hope that Beatrix, along with Midnight, Cerise, Dion, and Zeloph, would prevail in their endeavors and live to become the proud parents of these children!

The darkness that wisped from her mother's back began to evaporate, much to Abby’s relief. Perhaps she was too late after all, and her father didn’t—

A knock resonated throughout the cottage, drawing their attention downstairs. Oona spoke up, “Ahh! H-Hold on! A-A'm not decent!”

With that white lie, Abby helped her mother down the stairwell while motioning for the plushies to clean up her mess. They scattered to collect every stray paper and crayon before neatly placing them near the window ledge.

As they approached the door, Abadonna tensed up behind Oona’s skirt, ready to face the worst thing that awaited them outside. Fortunately, it was Fidelma who pushed her way inside with a creak of the door, her earthly rags and silky scarf completely drenched.

“Forgive th' intrusion,” the soothsayer said as she dropped her supplies onto the kitchen table. “Ah couldn't hear ye over th' storm, an' Ah prefer not to stay soaked. But Ah…huh?” The cloaked satyress’s eyes burrowed at the witchy caprine girl hiding behind her. “… Who is that?”

“A-Ahh! Abby...gail! Her name’s Abigail,” lied Oona, who ushered her forward if only to lower suspicions. Abby nodded her head.

Fidelma remained unconvinced, studying the young lamb with a hand to her slender hips. “A’ve ne'er heard ov a single child on this island named Abigail.”

“I… don’t get out much,” the witchy caprine proclaimed sheepishly.

“… Hmph.” Deciding not to press the issue further, the soothsayer turned to her surrogate daughter. “Regardless, Oona, yer father was strict aboot no one bein' allowed here wit'out his authority!”

The azure shamaness rolled her eyes. “It’s rainin' cats an' dogs, Fidelma. Th' poor thin' was goin' tae catch her death!”

Fidelma pinched the bridge of her snout. “Uuugh… Oona, ye’re too nice fur yer own good…” She then relaxed after a short sigh. “Well, take that up wit yer father then. He’ll be here wit some guards befur he leads th' clan intae battle.”

Oona could only hang her head in sorrow. The thought of another war breaking out on her once peaceful homeland made her sick, recalling the invading forces of the caribou, who tried to pillage and enslave the women of her tribe…

“Now, A’ve gone out ov mah way tae brin' ye some extra food an' goodies,” offered Fidelma, pulling out groceries that had been protected by her heavy cloak.

The gravid faun narrowed her eyes. “But I thought Minerva was comin' here wit groceries..?”

“We thought th' same,” acknowledged the aged satyr. “But no one’s seen th' old drider since th' squall. Last Ah heard, she was headin' back intae th' forestry tae fetch some additional charms an' protective ornaments.”

Abadonna clasped her snout to stifle her gasp. ‘No..!’

“Mmm. She’s likely takin' shelter in her web until th' storm clears up,” concluded Oona.

“It would seem so. Oh, deary me! Ah almost forgot some important news!”

Both caprines arched an eyebrow. “News?”

Fidelma smiled. “Old friends ov yers have arrived recently tae support th' cause. Ah believe their names were ‘Ashen Dunes’ an' ‘Rhenaes’?”

Oona lit up. “Ooh, yes! Ashen is th' younger brother ov Princess Cerise an' Prince Penumbra. An' Rheneas was there tae help us thwart Doppia an' th' Burnin' King! Admittedly, Ah don’t know them very well, but they are close allies.”

“Yes, but that’s not all,” continued Fidelma. “A fleet ov ships wavin' th' banners ov th' Crystal Empire have been sighted approachin' th' shores. King Ambros is on his way tae provide aid as well!”

“King Ambros!” The azure sheep clapped her hands together, her heart swelling with relief.

Abadonna, however, had the opposite reaction. ‘What..!?’

“Not surprising, considerin' th' Sovereign Witch has aligned wit th' remainin' Vice Lords an' their ‘Legion ov Black Roses’. Their combined forces threaten e'eryone in th' Lost World! Now is th' time that we stand united!”

“Yes! Exactly! Oh, this is a dream come true!”

‘… or the beginning of a nightmare! This wasn’t supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen!!’

Abadonna suddenly rushed towards the stairs, ignoring the concerned calls of her mother. The plushies jumped when she slammed the door open and pulled out more blank paper. Perplexed, they hopped up and perched on the brim of her witch hat, watching her sketch out more characters and locations.

So determined to direct the fate of the future while the storm refused to abate, she failed to notice one of the candles dissolving into pixelated darkness before disappearing altogether…

Wispy Willow entered a virtual room, which had taken the shape of the ‘Cyberverse’ cityscape on a rainy night. Usually, she wouldn’t even bother stepping in with the risk of getting wet, but they were in a rough spot with the Glamorguis struggling to fly.

Upon a rooftop sat Kitsune of the Nine-Tails, her eyes closed while she sat in the lotus position, the top of her gi torn removed, breasts concealed behind wraps. A constant drizzle sluiced over her amid deep meditation. The moon shone down on her from the black sky. One of her ears twitched at the sound of puddly footsteps approaching her.

“Sis! What are you doing?” The twin-tailed tigress called over. “There’s a war outside, and we’ve got infiltrators stalking the ship! Don’t tell me you’re afraid to throw down with that lost tail?”

Kitsune opened an eye. “No, Imoto. I’m in preparation to face our old adversary. I’m certain he’s on his way here.”

“Wha—You mean Triad?” Wispy snorted. “He’s a joke! Old news! You already cut off his head once; you can do it again!” Her studded crimson catsuit glistened under the moonlight and rain, a hand rested on her hip.

“Our last encounter did not end in my favor,” reminded Kitsune, the image of his cold stare while she collapsed to the ground, bleeding out, fresh on her mind. “I hold no shame in admitting he’s a lot stronger now while I have gotten weaker.”

“Even if that were true, you’ve got us in your corner!” She nodded over her shoulder at Eclipsed Heart, Kyube, and Chisana, recovering from the shockwave that washed through them moments ago. “Come on, we’ll take him on together! Him, Penny Dreadful, Mortis, Andrei, and whoever else that—!”

“No, Imoto.” She gave her sister a sharp glare if only to assert her authority. Her gaze softened on Eclipsed Heart, glad that the Necronomicon’s undoing had no visible effects on her. And when her eyes met Kyube’s, she shook her head. “This is something I must do alone.”

Wispy bristled. “B-but sis—!”

“It is a matter of personal pride for her,” replied Kyube from below. “Do you want to deny your friend that?”

“N-no...but we’re really worried about you! In your condition, you might-!” Eclipsed began, then chewed on her lower lip to silence herself. At her side, Chisana looked on sympathetically, anxiety written on her face.

Before Kitsune could properly reassure her allies, her ears flicked when she picked up new sounds from the rooftops. Stoic determination took over her face. “He’s here!”

Kitasan Triad had infiltrated the virtual space with his magic sword, which he’d used to carve his way through the ship. But rather than stage a surprise attack, he too removed his pin-striped suit, leaving his chest and inked back bare and meditated on the spot. The pair of swordmasters held an unspoken truce while they honed themselves for their final duel. Raindrops sprinkled across the black stallion’s ebony muscles, which tensed in anticipation.

“We must cleanse ourselves for this moment,” explained Kitsune. “We want to face each other as fairly as possible.”

An uneasy silence settled between the sisters while the others remained on guard in case Triad’s loony accomplice, Penny Dreadful, showed up guns blazing to spoil this fateful moment.

Then, the tattoos on Triad’s back separated themselves from him, his vermillion tiger and cyan dragon familiars boxing the group in while he stood back up.

“It’s time,” Kitsune proclaimed before rising, swathed in the wind and rain. “No matter what happens, promise me you will not interfere.”

Wispy growled begrudgingly before consenting. Before stepping down to assist her bandmate, she yelled over the mild storm, “You better win, sis! Or I'll kick your ass myself!”

“Of course she will,” Eclipsed proclaimed confidently. “Kitsune’s not the type of person to lose easily.”

“Yeah, but if shit blows sideways, what do we—”

A squeak from Chisana pulled their attention, the bladed point of the parasol at her throat when Penny Dreadful snickered and pulled the tiny raccoon dog back from behind.

“Aaagh! A-Aniki!!”

“Let her go!” warned Kyube, teeth bared.

“Ah-ah-ah~!” The clockwork griffoness said while wagging her finger. “You get anywhere close to the roofs, and I’ll empty her throat and bowels across these streets!” She backed up her threat by pressing the tip close to her hostage’s neck. “Nuugh! Cease your impudent squirming, you putrid little—!”

“Penny, no!” Triad called down to her, brows furrowed. “I want this fight to be as fair as possible! Release the girl!”

“Now, now, sweetie~,” cooed Penny with a quiver of her beak. “I’m simply keeping insurance so that none of these lousy vermin get in the way of your absolute victory!”

“You let her go now, bitch!” Wispy snarled as her summoned plasma orbs sizzled against the raindrops.

Penny Dreadful's beak wore a vicious smile. “If you want her back that badly, try and take her~!”

Opening her wings, she took off from the ground. Glancing back at Triad, she said, “Don’t take too long, love! I want to finish these wretches quickly so that we can seek out Beatrix, Esmeralda, and Camellia! After they’re butchered, we can get married and spend our honeymoon somewhere wonderful! We’re almost free!”

“I know,” answered Triad, who leaped across the rooftops and landed close to where she fluttered. “Master swore to release us after we completed our last mission. But I will not stain my hands with the blood of a child. Now, please… set her free.”

“B-but darling—~!” Her protests were cut off when his lips met her beak in a deep kiss. Then, Penny hissed when Chisana bit her hand and slipped free. She stabbed at the tanuki girl simply to embed the parasol's bladed tip in a chunk of wood left amidst a cloud of smoke. “Gaagh! You putrid little shite!”

Triad rolled his eyes before casting his steely gaze on Wispy, Eclipsed, and the Yokai bandits below. “It appears you’re all eager to fight. Here. Play with them for a while.” The kitasan swordsman snapped his fingers, and his tattoo beasts immediately attacked B.A.B.E. while he raised his katana and unleashed its arcane power.

“Sweetie, wait—!?” Penny was pushed back by the force of the blade's magic wave, which tossed her back toward the dampened ground. The avian assassin drifted to catch herself while Kyube and Chisana sailed on the winds to land kicks that sent them into the alleyway. An arcane barricade formed to seal off the area, preventing anyone from ascending 50 feet above the ground.

“There. Now none of them can interrupt us,” huffed Triad once he and Kitsune circled each other. He’d poured all his fury and vices into the tattoo beasts to purify himself and face her with a clear head. Noticing her missing tail, he inquired, “What happened?”

“The price of constant war,” answered Kitsune. “Everywhere we go, there’s only more death and destruction. I doubt even our homeworld is safe.”

He nodded. “Most certainly.”

“It need not end like this, Triad,” she pleaded. “We’re all victims of the syndicate. Experimented on. Used like toys until we’ve served our purpose. Why not lay down your blade today… and help us save the multiverse?”

“In any other scenario, I would have accepted,” replied Triad, a hint of melancholy in his voice. “But you know why I can’t stray from my path now.”

Her eyes heavied with pity as she reluctantly drew out her katana. “I do. But I had to try—”

The kunoichi vixen shifted her vision when her teammates evaded a collapsing building. Wispy and Eclipsed threw plasma orbs and crystalline shards to combat the tattoo monstrosities, whose size and power increased due to the sword’s influence.

Taking a martial arts stance, Wispy beckoned with a hand and cried, "Bring it! Hiyah!" However, the yokai plasma fires she summoned faded the moment they struck the tiger. "What the dick-?"

"Mine too! This is bad," yelped Eclipsed as her crystals turned to sparkly dust on contact with the thin dragon. She raced around its rapid strikes on her skates and said, "Somehow, they're immune! Maybe it's because they're psychic constructs…?"

Distracted by their plight, Kitsune's ears detected the sound of sliced wind and deflected an incoming shuriken the black kitasan stallion tossed her way.

“Stop losing focus and face me!” demanded Triad.

The vixen's cool eyes narrowed, and her lips formed a line. “As you wish. I shall finish this swiftly!”

Their blades repeatedly crossed in a shower of sparks, their denuded muscles tensed and taut. Any martial arts used were just a means to maneuver around the other for a better angle to attack. Puddles splashed under their deft, dance-like movements.

Unfortunately, Kitsune’s equilibrium remained off-balance, even after her incisive training and healing through the ship’s aid. Her graceful movements proved less fluid and clumsier than usual, barely able to keep pace with her augmented adversary that now outclassed her skills in every way.

“You’re even slower than before,” he observed between locked swords.

“Speed… isn’t always the deciding factor!” she grunted as metal-struck-metal.

“Still, this isn’t how I wanted to end this.” From his side eye, he spotted the bestial tattoos overwhelm Wispy, who battled what now turned into a sabretooth tiger and Eclipsed, also beaten down by the lengthy dragon. “Hmph. It appears this sword harbors more tricks than I imagined.”

“This is between us,” reasoned Kitsune as the combatants circled. “Kill me if you want, but allow them to live!”

“Once my familiars have separated from me, they’re their own entities. I can’t even recall them back.” The beasts tore the clothes from Wispy and Eclipsed, their wet naked bodies exposed before their furious appetites, born from his basest instincts. The tiger and dragon roared, ready to loosen Triad’s suppressed lust and fury on them. “Penny’s vileness and cruelty must have rubbed off on me…”

This steeled Kitsune to deal with him faster than ever, fighting harder with precise movements. She tried to blot out the humiliating cries of her teammates when Wispy found herself mounted by the sabretooth and pinned by its weight, her wail somewhere between pain and pleasure as its thick, barbed cock tore into her slick wet cunt.

“Nyahh~! S-Stupid cat, get off of me!” The nekomata mewled, the heavy tiger hunched on her back, splattered with its heated drool. Its muscular bulk pounded into her pussy while keeping her pinned with its claws, forcing a climax from her lips. “A-auuugh, fuck~!!” Wispy whined and hissed, the corner of her eyes teary as the vermillion beast’s hips clapped her wide, striped buttocks.

It claimed its mate without mercy, relentlessly pounded away, determined to spill a spectral seed that thankfully couldn't take root. Wispy panted, and her perky breasts swayed each time it hammered away, her face afire in humiliation, forced to take a barbed cock that drove another messy climax from her as she yelped and clenched.

“N-No, no, no, hold on! I’m taken-!” Eclipsed squirmed in the dragon’s tail, which repeatedly coiled around the pop star. Her charcoal flesh and fur were pinched, tits and cheeks bunched between its wrapped body. Her neck, cheek, and hot pink nipples were lapped by its elongated forked tongue.

“Bass... I-I’m so sorry! Forgive me!!” She sobbed and tensed up when its twin cocks pushed into her lower holes and spread them wide open, thankful she’d let her boyfriend claim them first!

The pop idol closed her eyes and tried to think only of her boyfriend when her captor took its pleasure from her spread wide open cavities, her twat left to leak its feminine nectar over the animal that invaded her entrance and backdoor with fierce, repetitive thrusts, which made her buttcheeks and titties bounce under every impact. "Oh~! Don't…!"

She, too, tensed up like Wispy as one of many climaxes was forced on them, their messy squirts lost in the drizzle. Yet even after the beasts spilled their seeds into their mates, they continued to violently make use of their bodies.

Kitsune snarled and burned with a white-hot fury unlike any she’d ever felt. Her yokai aura formed around her body, and balls of foxfire ringed around her, much to Triad’s surprise when he said, “The true power of the Nine-Tails?!”

She saw a moment of hesitation cross Triad’s face and took advantage of that by flinging her blue and red wispy yokai fireballs at him, balanced by her blade. The kitasan swordsman was pushed back by the flurry of swipes, blows, and magic she released, driven to the building’s slippery edge. With a two-handed swipe born of desperation, he sent her back, where she flipped, landed on her feet, and skidded back.

“Let’s settle this,” she declared when thunder cracked, and the sky flashed to better illuminate them. “Here and now!”

“This final strike decides it,” he concurred, the pair of them crouched and tensed to pounce. The two sailed skywards, silhouetted by the moon, and met in mid-air, where they crossed swords in a metallic clash of blades.

The two of them landed where the other one once perched and knelt. They stood motionless… until Triad tumbled forward with a pained groan. A giant line of blackened blood seeped across his chiseled chest and shoulder, all the way to the center of his back.

Both the tiger and dragon bellowed once they dispersed into the ether, freeing Wispy and Eclipsed as they tumbled onto the watery floor. Both raised their heads to the rooftops with speculation, the lead singer asking aloud, “Does that mean..?!”

Kitsune hissed, suffering the blow from his blade that sliced through her bandage bra, releasing her breasts into the cold, damp air while a crimson line formed between her bosom and belly. She glanced at her broken katana, fragments of the blade shattered over the roof’s edge. Tossing it aside, the fox woman bit back the pain and approached her opponent, who managed to push himself onto his knees.

“You… you bested me. Just like before… yet without the need for cybernetics… Remarkable...!” The black stallion murmured, coughing out more black bile from his lips.

“The world of advanced technology is a dangerous place,” spoke the vixen through ragged breath. “Utter reliance on it dulls the mind and body. Through this truth, I could shed off the machinery that shackled me and return to my roots.”

Triad stared at his adversary with a vacant gaze, a bitter chuckle leaving his throat. “You have achieved nirvana… Something I could never do. Not in this… pitiful state of being…” He hissed, using his damaged arms to reach and present his magically infused katana. “Take it… as a memento of our final clash. Use it well…”

She studied it briefly before cautiously taking the infused katana into her hands, her glare less intense. “I will,” she assured, lifting it high behind her head.

The kitasan swordsman smiled gently before bowing his head forward, both a sign of respect and acceptance of his fate. Without pause, Kitsune departed Triad’s head from his corpse, which slumped along with his body and scattered into dust. She watched the severed face of her foe disintegrate, his voice whispering in the winds, “Thank… you…”

With the decisive battle now over and no trace of Triad remaining, Kitsune keeled forward and held her stomach to keep her entrails in, vomiting up blood.

“Kitsune!!” Wispy and Eclipsed Heart shouted, hurrying to the vixen’s side despite their sore unmentionables.

“Mmnngh… It’s okay, girls,” insisted the bleeding fox woman. “I-I… will live.”

“Don’t worry, sis!” The two-tailed tigress said with watery eyes. “Layla will patch you up! Just… stop talking! Rest!”

While she guided Kitsune to lie down on her back, Eclipsed was perked up by the flashes and sounds from the alleyways below. “Wispy, stay here! I’ll help out Kyube and Chisana!”

The cat woman tensed. “In your condition...?”

“I-I’m just a little sore, is all…” confessed Eclipsed, her face red when she redressed herself the best she could with the tatters of her torn clothes. “But that doesn’t matter now! Penny’s still at large!” At least her enhanced roller skates were intact, which allowed her to sail in the air into the alleyway.

“Tsk. Silly bitch,” Wispy muttered with a small smirk before the reality of her sister’s condition intruded. More hot blood washed over the nekomata’s striped fur after she held her close. She sobbed out, “You hold on now, okay?!”

“Y-yes,” murmured Kitsune, who almost blinked her eyes closed. Delirious, she whispered to herself. “Sakura... It’s a nice name. I hope Kyube doesn’t see me like this… s-so indecent!”

Wispy failed to suppress a giggle before turning her frown to where Triad once stood. “Poor bastard… Couldn’t save him from himself. Wrecked my favorite costume and punched my ticket, too!”

Meanwhile, Penny Dreadful carried on her dance of death down the narrow alleyway with Kyube and Chisana, who were forced to scatter from the barrage of tiny missiles she released from the silos in her wide opened wingspan. Graffiti-laden walls shattered into rocks and dust under the explosions that blossomed from each unloaded rocket.

She hooted, “Nowhere to run now, my pretties! You’ll make lavishing fur coats~." Yet every time she believed her rockets struck home, a Kyube clone faded away, or more smoke rose from Chisana, a dummy left in the place where she once stood. “So annoying! Ugh, what did Triad say this was? Yokai magic..? No matter. You’ll run out of reserves and tire yourselves out long before my silos are emptied! And then, this bird of prey will move in for the kill~!”

The griffoness kept her parasol’s blade ready and evaded the kunai knives tossed her way. “Ooh~! So close! But no dice—ack!” A swift kick to her head from a roller skate knocked her aside.

Eclipsed Heart twirled in the air after her surprise attack, a crystal javelin in hand, the scanty remains of her tattered roller derby costume hastily stitched back on her almost naked flesh. “Give it up, you nutty harpy! Your boyfriend’s dead, and your zombie minions are being cleaned up. You’ve lost!”

“What?! Triad is..? No… NO! YOU LIE!!” Penny screeched, eyes manically wide. Despite her declaration, she knew deep down it was true. She no longer saw his familiars nor sensed his undead presence. “I’LL TEAR OUT YOUR HEART AND FEED IT TO YOUR FRIENDS, YOU SKANK!!”

She swiped at the pop star wildly, driven mad with vengeance, no longer concerned whether her assault ended in mutual destruction. Eclipsed pirouetted away from each reckless swing, blocking her parasol with her crystalline spear when cornered to a steel wall under her nonstop assault.

Penny primed the rest of her missiles and launched them all simultaneously, despite the warnings that flashed across her interior systems. The pop diva cried, “W-Wait, don’t—!”

Nonetheless, a flurry of rockets were fired point-blank, and the charcoal mare’s scream ended up lost in the explosion. The clockwork killer squeaked, her nuked doll body torn into chunks amidst the eruption. Her head, torso, and one arm remained attached, partially scorched, and her attire burned off down to her blackened feathers.

A black crater smoked where the pop princess once stood, a scorched hole torn from the spaceship. “YES! DIE YOU SLATTERNLY...WHAT!?!”

Her eyes turned to pinpoints at Eclipsed beside Kyube and Chisana, who had barely snatched her up in time, her charcoal fur singed but otherwise unharmed. Penny's outrage was reduced to childish bawling. “N-No… this isn’t fair! Triad… Daddy, I…I-Ah~!”

Unable to close the wound in its hull in time, a powerful burst of air sucked at Penny, her removed abdomen, legs, and arm tossed out into the Sacratera. Clinging on for dear life, unable to fly under the force with her plume wrecked, she yelped, “H-help...!”

Chisana narrowed her eyes. “Go jōdandeshou!”

“Unbelievable,” Kyube scoffed.

Tentatively, Eclipsed started to offer her crystal javelin, despite knowing the likelihood that it was a trick… which immediately proved correct when the griffoness screeched, “DIE, YOU FILTHY WHOOOOOOORE!!”

Her beak opened wide and fired one last hidden rocket. But the male kitsune flung a yokai ball fast enough to intercept the missile before it could launch out of her shrilling mouth.

The rocket went off on impact, the explosion tossing Kyube, Chisana, and Eclipsed back, the latter summoning a crystal shield to take the brunt of the fiery debris that burst before them.

Eclipsed huffed. “Everyone okay?”

The yokai bandits nodded while everyone gazed at the smoldering ruins of the clockwork killer, remains splattered all over the screen before dissolving into darkened specks. Eclipsed drained of color. “I-Is she..?”

Kyube nodded. “Departed this world the way she lived in it. Violently.”

Quest to her core, Eclipsed mumbled to herself, “Good riddance…” Chisana nodded and kicked a stray, charred talon aside before it too became dust.

The simulation of the Cyberverse ended in distortion, the fire, rain, buildings, and night skies disappearing into the pale room, which steadily repaired the torn hole. The trio rushed to help Wispy hold up Kitsune, who used the last of her clothes to cover up her sister’s injuries. The nekomata ordered, “Let’s get her to the infirmary room, stat!”

“I’ll carry her,” offered Kyube, who gingerly held the vixen in his arms bridal style. Despite her gruesome appearance, she looked peaceful in her rest, unconsciously burying her face into his chest.

“Let’s go before more trouble finds us!” Eclipsed Heart urged, guiding her bandmates and friends out of the A.R. chamber and through the lengthy corridor.

Light and darkness similarly clashed on Sacratera, each strike from Zeloph's and Mortis’ respective weapons igniting blinding flashes. The two pushed their Onomas and their prowess to the limit, neither able to overpower the other. Whenever the undead sorcerer used Thanatos to latch his shadow onto the exalted demi-human, his light burned brighter to shine away the creeping darkness. "What a fitting conclusion it would be," called Mortis. "As the betrayer died by your hand, her Onoma will now be instrumental in your destruction..!"

"Never!" glowered Zell.

Yet whenever the Aether King unleashed light beams from the pupils of his eyes or sacred fire to knock the vengeful revenant down, he'd rise back up fierce as ever in a flutter of a tattered black cloak, his rust-colored guillotine scythe clasped in his skeletal hands.

But the seraph wasn’t his only problem. The two lilim who stayed, Bellatrix and Analise, worked in tandem to support Zeloph the best they could with the full brunt of their unleashed powers.

“I'll hold him down,” hissed Bellatrix in a whisper to her fellow sex demon. “Then, you strike!”

“On it!” Ana murmured, using her Onoma to briefly vanish from sight.

The red-skinned woman unfurled her leathery wings and sailed towards Mortis, who launched a cleaving wave to propel his angelic foe away. Zeloph was unharmed but momentarily pushed back. Even though Bella couldn’t summon another demon, her Onoma, Gehenna, wasn’t limited to one power. Channeling flames from her palm, she opened a small multitude of portals from her personal dimension of hell.

From the fiery-black rifts shot dozens of infernal chains, tipped with hooks, from all directions. The seared steel ensnared Mortis, restraining him for Ana to uncloak herself and move in for the kill. “Yer abaht ter get your yarbles got! If ya 'ave any yarbles to got, that is!”

With that declaration, the neon demon put all her might into a vicious rend, dashing forward to jab her claws into the coiled-up lich’s ribcage before crossing them apart with a devastating blue and pink cleave.

The impact shook Mortis, a few of his bones cracked apart under the tearing attack. But in mere seconds, blackness oozed out from beneath to repair the fractures. “Oh, come the fuck on!!”

Bellatrix clenched her sharp teeth, straining to maintain her hold on the reaper. “Keep going! He’ll have to run out eventually!”

This made Mortis laugh. “Fools! Within me is an all but endless chasm of souls for me to draw life force from. You will perish long before I reach the finite of my reserves!” To demonstrate, the black-cloaked reaper conjured the anguished life he'd consumed and unleashed a dark wave that knocked over Bella and Ana, snapping the summoned hellbound chains instantly.

The gray clouds rumbled with thunder overhead when Mortis descended towards the staggered succubi, ready to reap the pair, until Zeloph raced forward to protect his friends with a deflecting sweep. With the lich temporarily disarmed, the Aether King fired a solar wave to send him backward into a dilapidated building, the force causing it to crumble atop Mortis with a crash.

“Are you alright?” asked the seraphic demi, though his eyes remained fixated on where his opponent fell, knowing he wouldn’t lay down for long.

“Yeah,” coughed Bella through the kicked-up asphalt dust. “Just peachy.”

“Fuckin’ hell!” Ana growled, slamming her fist into the ground. “We’re givin' this asshole the bloomin' poundin' of a lifetime, and 'e keeps comin' back for more! We might as well be necrophiliacs at this rate!”

“This is why I told you to head back to the ship,” urged Zeloph. “I’m the only one who can stand up to him now..!”

But the red-skinned she-devil refused, teeth tightly clenched. “You’re not dying alone out here, and I’m not going to be treated like a burden. Not when I swore to make up for my past mistakes.”

“Damn wite abaht that,” added Ana. “It’s crystal that wif aw those souls, 'is power far exceeds our own. Eventually, you’ll burn yourself aahhht too, Zelly…”

His glare hardened when Mortis gradually emerged from the ruins again, not wanting to admit defeat. But the luster-sworn angel knew his comrades were right. He could already feel his exaltation expiring, evident by his flickering glow. “Damn it all! If there was only a way we could free the souls trapped inside him! But without another reaper like Atalanta, is that even possible...?”

A low chuckle drew threatening attention to the hovering reaper stallion, parts of his old identity as Danse Macabre manifesting in his withered flesh.

“Ahh… How long have I wished to relish in the feeling of triumph,” Mortis taunted. “A shame that my victory over the traitor and her family could not extend to my past life.”

Zell deepened his glare and demanded, “What are you on about..?!”

A haughty smirk stretched his half-formed face. “Atalanta’s mother… Quiver Bolt, wasn't it? She attempted to arrange a marriage between her and Danse Macabre.” He spoke of his former self like he was a different entity, in spite of how his emotions and history stirred to the surface of a withered face.

Nonetheless, he continued to goad Zeloph, whose anger intensified with every word. “Who knows what might have been? Our reaper cutie marks bind us to our order while suppressing our emotions. Perhaps I could have made a spell that would nullify the latter. Then I might have been able to cull Shadow Scythe’s lust for power and offer her a life where she would truly be happy!”

His scythe clashed with the seraph’s saber as he declared with umbrage, “She’d never marry the likes of you!”

Driven by ballistic rage, Zeloph continued to push Apollo’s solaromancy beyond its maximum, his relentless attacks alit with sun fire. Mortis easily countered every strike and thrust aimed at him with the help of the souls he'd collected, the stolen Onoma called Thanatos, and the Eldritch phantoms attached to his blackened soul.

Not even the cover fire provided by Bellatrix and Analise phased him; their hellish projectiles and surprise attacks from every angle they could launch evaded with ease. “It’s futile,” he announced whenever he brushed aside brimstone, hellfire, and hooked chains with a wave of his bony hand. “Any amount of hell you raise pales in comparison to the pain I’ve endured.”

A spectral green aura ignited from his palms once he launched a disintegration ray, forcing Zeloph to stand in front and activate his Ophanim shield to absorb the deathly blast. Once the holy rings of topaz disappeared, he collapsed to one knee with a sharp cry.

Bella and Ana cried out, “Zell!”

“You fought formidably, but your skills and gifts can no longer reach me,” Mortis declared from above, skeletal draconic wings unfurled from his back. “For I have done what the betrayer only dared to dream. I have shed away the mortal coils that bound me to the earth and have become… infinite!” Deathly shadows, armed with sickles and curved blades, emerged from the tattered cloak reaper. “So, struggle all you want. In the end, you’ll still perish!”

Before Zeloph could rush back in on fiery wings, Analise swooped in front to blockade him. “Out of my way!”

“Nah! Ya can’t let 'im Kathy Burke ya up loike this! Ya need ter chill out!”

“Sister, please! Now is not—”

“Bella, look after 'im for a moment,” the neon succubus directed before soaring up to summon the power of Nyx, surrounding herself and the black reaper within the sealed neon void.

While they were occupied, Bellatrix crouched by the fiery angel’s side, doing her best to comfort him. “She's right, Zeloph. Mortis is biding his time until you’ve run out of energy to contend with him. If you die, then there will be nothing left to stop him. And Atalanta's death will be for nothing.”

The red-skinned demoness stroked his cheek, astonished to find that light wasn’t burning her. It almost felt soft and soothing once Zeloph leaned his head into her palm, his outrage having died down a little in her presence.

Reason and awareness settled in, and he nodded mutedly. “All this power, and I'm feel too weak. I can't think of a single way to free Atalanta's soul from his now that they're so entwined!”

“There has to be something we can do,” Bella proclaimed. “That trick card that Seb slipped you. Couldn’t we use that?”

He pulled up the item in question, which had an hourglass design in between the mirroring number of six. “Yeah, but I’m not even sure what this even does,” confessed Zell. “It would be nice to discover it could somehow freeze time.”

“Pft. Since when do we have that kind of luck?” Bella snarked softly. “Still, what else do we have to lose? After all, should he win, we're doomed anyhow.”

“Fair enough. But what will happen should we strike Mortis Saltaire down? Will Atalanta's soul be lost forever...?”

Before he could rack his brain for an answer, the neon void shattered, and Mortis loomed out with the imp form of Moxxi, bloodied and bruised, in his clutches. “S-sorry, lovs… tried… t-to stall the best I could….” she managed to say with weak breath as the undead revenant tossed her by their feet.

“Moxxi, no!!” cried Bellatrix, who reached over to cradle the half-conscious imp to her bosom.

“I’ve grown bored of this feeble skirmish,” the unicorn lich scoffed. “Maybe it’s best I leave you for last, Zeloph. So that you can watch me slay all your foolhardy friends, then reap their souls, one by one. Until in your prolonged suffering, you offer yourself before me; begging to join them!” He infused his guillotine-style scythe with soul power, a spectral aura flaring around the held-aloft weapon. “Let’s start with those pitiful hellspawns! Time to meet your maker, vile demons!”

But before Mortis could unleash his soul-charged attack, Zeloph intercepted and activated the captured card Seb lent him. A vibrant blue sigil of a clock appeared over the reaper, its hands rapidly spiraling before grinding to a halt, locking him in suspended animation.

‘What?!’ Mortis internally bellowed in disbelief. ‘Why… can’t I… move?!’

Zeloph was flabbergasted, staring between the frozen reaper and the card, which then dispersed into nothingness. “… holy shit, it actually stopped time!?”

Bellatrix proved equally perplexed. “What the—how in fuck’s name did that lousy criminal lay his dirty hands on a temporal spell of that caliber?! Surely, he must have stolen it..!”

But they didn’t bother to continue arguing the logistics, noticing the magic keeping Mortis in stasis started beckoning. It was slow at first but gradually sped up after every sixth blink, signaling that the spell wouldn’t last for long.

Seizing this golden opportunity, Zeloph unfurled his multitude of wings and took to the air. From above, he called down, “Take Moxxi, cover your eyes, and get as far away from here as possible!” His eyes lit up with brilliant light, focused on his detained enemy as he declared quietly, “… I’m about to light this fucker up!”

Realizing the implications, Bella tucked Moxxi closer to her chest and quickly flew to safety, hiding behind a standing pillar and enclosing her wings around them.

Calling forth the last of his Onoma, Zeloph drew every particle of light available in the area to his being, the entire landscape dimming to near blackness with how brightly the exalted angel gleamed. Energy rippled from his limbs towards his chest, channeling into a sphere that grew with intensity, light, and heat. The Crucible dissolved into its wielder, lending him the strength of the previous heroes to vanquish his foe.

Mortis could only gaze petrified at the glaring light, utterly helpless to do anything but await the impending attack. The vibrant hum of Apollyon rose in pitch, ringing louder and higher until culminated in Zeloph’s final gambit. The Aether King emitted a valiant battle cry as he poured all of his might into unleashing a single ray of godly light that blasted Mortis with the force of a thousand suns. An explosion of light and debris whirled from the impact, the extensive force nearly knocking Bella from her hiding spot. More structures crumbled and toppled over, starting away any alien creatures that were near the desolate urban area.

When the light faded, only a large crater remained, ground and gravel scorched with baleful white flames. Zeloph floated down towards the earth while his exalted form diminished, leaving him bare and covered in burn marks and bruises. Steam wafted from his shoulders, caked in sweat and blood. Petals from his floral tail had wilted off.

The burnt-out angel clenched his fist, struggling to hold onto what little strength remained that kept him from reverting to his cherub state. Zell gasped greatly for air, his chest searing with agony. That was his last attempt at defeating Mortis Solitaire. And despite the severe drawback of trending himself toward powerlessness, he had to pull it off. Aware that were he to fall, everyone aboard the UFO, which was hopefully light years away from Sacratera by now, would pay the price. Left unchecked, entire worlds, perhaps even universes, could fall before the unimaginable power of the black reaper's need to consume life...!

Rain began to fall once Bellatrix flew down beside him, wrapping an arm around Zell to help him back up while the weakened demi-human leaned against the succubus, who scanned the fiery, smokey, decimated landscape.

“You almost leveled the entire city with that blast,” noted the she-devil. “That had to have been it, right? Not even the Burning King and his cronies could endure that! Mortis couldn't have survived... r-right!?”

But their hope was quickly tarnished after a charred, bony hand shot from the ground, and Mortis once more pulled himself out of the ground. Tattered pieces of his clock were burned off, and likewise, any trace of his flesh, save for the thin skin still attached to his skull. While the dark magic infused inside of him worked harder to heal his fractured bones, the embodiment of death stood with indomitable will. A dry cackle croaked out his blackened jaws. “Tired, ancient, and half-dead. But still, I come for you!”

“N-No..!!!” Groaned Zeloph, struggling to call upon his heavenly sword and continue the fight, yet he could barely stand without Bellatrix's support.

Mortis took sluggish steps towards his weakened adversaries, scythe scraping along the ground, kicking up sparks and dirt, his ghostly silhouette highlighted by the occasional flashes of lightning. “I will prevail…. For I…have…eternity!”

As their untimely fate loomed closer, Zeloph squinted his gaze when a strange streak of light hit his eye. That’s when he noticed a crack shimmering beneath the skeletal reaper’s ribcage. “Wait a second… Bella, do you see—?”

“Y-Yeah,” she whispered roughly. “I think you opened up a weak point where Moxxi struck him! And from the looks of it, his healing isn’t as strong anymore, like it's partly burned out..!”

“Then we still have a chance,” he grunted, finally managing to manifest his shimmering teal blade. “Bellatrix! You have to finish Mortis off now!”

Torn for a moment since she didn't want to leave Moxxi unprotected, the crimson demoness nonetheless conjured more hook-tipped chains from hellish portals surrounding the undead sorcerer, trying to reach his partially exposed core. Sensing this, Mortis moved faster than she could fling her power, spinning his scythe in an arc to reflect the multitude of hooked chains before they struck home.

“A noble effort…” He commented before sliding into his shadow. And from Bellatrix's own shade, he arose and cut her down from behind with his rust-colored guillotine. “… But wasted by someone undeserving of life! You're no more than a mere piece of fiction!”

The succubus screamed, soaked in hot blood, the gash so deep it could have split her into halves had she not attempted to evade the mortal blow.

"I conferred with the Eldritch," continued Mortis. "You were never meant to exist beyond the Necronomicon, wretched spawn!”

Bellatrix used his closeness to her advantage, pushing through the pain as her claws sank into his cracked rib cage; her lithe muscles pushed to her limits as she threw all her strength into prying the wound further open. “Even a devil like me can change! Moxxi, Zeloph, Shadow Scythe...hell, Beatrix and all of her friends have made so many mistakes! Committed terrible sins!” Her face twisted in primal fury while hot blood continually leaked from the deep slit down her back. “But I'll sacrifice whatever it takes to end you, foul reaper! Even should that mean I have to forfeit my own worthless life...!”

“Then allow me to perform your last rites!” Mortis shoved her back with black force, her bloodied body rolling onto her front. Bella tiredly tried to lift herself up while her executioner raised his rustic weapon to behead the demon.

Zeloph cried out, rushing in to try and intercept, only for Mortis to bat him away with his skeletal wings. “No..!!”

“Rejoice, demon,” the blackened reaper stallion said. “For you will join the traitor in perpetual agony!"

Bellatrix squeezed her eyes shut, awaiting for the blade to lop off her head… when an unkindness of ravens descended upon the reaper in a cacophony of caws. The flock obscured his vision, and Bellatrix pulled away from his awkward swipe, her face tensed with a pained cry as the scythe made a surface cut across her chest.

Zeloph stumbled to her aid while Moxxi regained consciousness, watching in perplexity whenever the undead unicorn fought to swipe away the pesky avian creatures. “Wot the Three Card Trick...?!”

“Naaagh! Stop! What are you doing?!” Bellowed Mortis, his strikes and projectiles failing to impact any of the corvids with how closely they flew around him. In his confusion, he noticed that each of them harbored a different eye color. Gold, violet, aquamarine, scarlet… The largest of the bunch, which looked more reptilian than bird, sported unblinking gray eyes while they swooped and cried out without relent.

Then came the last of the group. The pale white crow that had been stalking Zeloph and his friends the entire time.

“You again…” the fatigued demi-human murmured, mesmerized by the raven…who swooped down in a deathly dive, then phased through the fractured ribcage of Mortis when it struck the wound Moxxi and Zeloph created, then Bella's attack had finally ripped apart.

The shimmering fissure opened more than ever once the bird had flown inside. The rest of the ravens backed off from the wildly swinging reaper, little more than nuisances to him. Mortis yelled from the immense pain coursing out his chest, forced down to his knees.

Moxxi and Bellatrix then nodded at each other and, with what little energy they could recover, rushed in to confine Mortis’ arms. “Got 'em,” cried the imp, holding on for dear life while the black reaper yanked back with a harsh snarl.

“His mortal side's vulnerable,” added Bellatrix, who'd locked down Mortis' other arm with the help of her wound-up hooked chains. “Now, Zeloph! DO IT!!”

With the realization of what he needed to do, Zeloph flew as fast as his wings could carry him and plunged the Crucible into the glimmering wound. A pained cry sounded from Mortis as a brilliant illumination enveloped them…

Zeloph’s multitude of eyes blinked back open, only to discover he was no longer in the abandoned metropolis. Before him now awaited a library composed of endless shelves stacked with books where he turned. “What is this place?” It felt similar to when his mind was in the Crucible, yet somehow familiar. Like someone described this to him before…

Then it hit him. “Wait! Is this… where the order of reapers was formed?”

He briefly recalled a conversation with Atalanta about a hidden lair she and the other death-sworn once chose to conduct their practices. An old library underground in Tartarus, lost to time, while modern Equestria prospered.

“So why do I feel like I’ve been here before? It doesn’t make any sense!” Zell brushed over a book cover, the dust staining his nimble fingertip.

“It’s likely these are not our memories,” answered Bellatrix, back in her usual black leather and lace attire when she skulked up, arms crossed underneath her crimson breasts. “I imagine we’re inside Mortis’ soul, which remains intertwined with Atalanta’s, thus…”

Moxxi popped up from underneath a pile of books, coughing out dust bunnies. “Yugh! Dingy Drum. Definitely the sort of shindig Edgie would 'ang 'round,” she snickered, planting her dump truck rear atop a bookshelf. “Thought kinda intimate in a way! Always wanted ter be inside Atalanta ~."

Her humor fell flat amongst her people, and grief momentarily crossed the imp’s crestfallen face. “Sorry, I shouldn’t 'ave…”

“It’s okay,” assured her brother. “We at least know where we are and how we got here. But now, what do we do?”

“If I were my sister, she’d opt to explore,” mused Bellatrix. “Maybe the secret to freeing Atalanta's soul lies deeper within?”

“Yeah, I can feel her here. Somewhere… like how we were trapped in the Necronomicon.”

Her face lowered in thought. “Were it not for Beatrix, I would have died little more than a predatory animal. I want to free my succubi sisters from such a fate. That's why I strove to become the Queen of Hell. But they’re likely dead now that the Necronomicon is annihilated. I couldn't even save Alma, despite my efforts. I failed everyone...”

“Don’t put yourself daahhhn, Belli,” Moxxi encouraged while fluttering to her side. “It’s thanks ter all our combined efforts we rendered ol’ Danse Macabre is vulnerable! at least, I hope 'e's not muckin' 'round in the 'real world' while we're 'ere..!”

Bella nodded. “Time should be standing still outside...”

“Good. Then we have to find her soul and get out of here,” said Zeloph, his face once more lit up by determination. “We have to hurry and make sure she isn't lost to...t-to...”

“We won't let Atalanta fade away to the aether,” assured Bella, stroking his lithe shoulder. “And should she somehow end up lost in hell, I'll look after her.”

“Yeah, best ter relax while ya can, bro,” added Moxxi. “Your anxieties especially could set off Atalanta's soul.”

“… Of course,” he replied and took a deep inhale to calm himself. Zell found the Crucible was still in his sheathe. And, upon releasing it, the blade illuminated to light the way.

“Guess it wants us to follow,” he assumed. “Thank you.” With his comrades by his side, Zeloph guided them through the labyrinth of bookshelves into the headquarters of the reaper order. They crossed into a room that in no way connected to the one they escaped from. He boiled it down to dream logic, far more concerned with the fate of his beloved.

Zell realized they were back in Atalanta's childhood before her parents had torn it down and moved it far from society. They found all three in the dining room, where a fourth was also eating with them. His eyes narrowed, and his teeth clenched, his blade in hand.

“Danse..!”

“Wait, hold on,” said Bella, who stepped in his way. “This is a memory, so they don’t see or hear us, remember?”

Begrudgingly, the angelic demi stood back to oversee the scene. Danse Macabre wore black robes; his hood cast back. He appeared to be a pretty plain-looking stallion. Not ugly by any means, but nothing remarkable either. Across from him sat Atalanta, her expression cold to match her pale blue fur, deathly white mane, and icy blue eyes. Scrolls with equations littered the tabletop beside emptied dinner plates.

Quicksilver Bullet sat in a chair by the fireplace, reading a newspaper with a pipe in his mouth. “You should've told us we were having company, dear. Your mother could have prepared us a better meal to suit the occasion!”

“Hush,” teased back Quiver Bolt, an apron thrown over the motherly mare's dress. “I'm just happy to see our little mare's finally found a date! And he's cute in a bookish sort of way, too!”

“It's not a date,” Atalanta informed coolly. “Danse Macabre is here to help with my research, and no more.”

“Heh. 'Research'. Sure~!” Quiver winked and elbowed her daughter's shoulder, plates of refreshments carried on a tray. She leaned into the stallion unicorn’s ear and whispered, “Just make sure you two, um, use proper protection. I don't think our little ice princess is ready to tie the knot yet!”

Danse paled sheepishly. “We're not like that. Not even friends, really,” he admitted almost inaudibly and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Actually, the reaper order forbids intimate relationships between its members since it would distract from our work.

“Exactly,” spoke up Atalanta. “We're acquaintances. Nothing more, nothing less. I have no use for silly romances.”

“Well, either way, I hope you'll treat her well,” grunted Quicksilver, who set aside his paper and pipe, then seated himself at the head of the table. “That goes for you too, Atalanta. Be nice to him, and don't embarrass us, okay?”

“Yes, Dad,” she answered flatly with a sour look. Atalanta poked at her food with a fork while Quiver Bolt also sat down. “We're researching a new, experimental spell for the reaper order,” the pale unicorn mare said before they could ask, aware her parents would want to pry into her business, like usual.

Quicksilver raised a bushy eyebrow. “What kind of spell...?”

“Uh, a way to empower one's cutie marks,” hastily explained Danse in an attempt to cover their work on the soul-intertwinement spell. “You see, our reaper marks are so rare that only a few have them at a time. They suppress emotion to help sharpen our focus.”

“As if my daughter needs to conceal more of her feelings,” the bearded elder stallion muttered to himself.

Danse continued, “But what if we can discover a way to better balance that?” Quicksilver shot him a skeptical look but didn't press him further.

Quiver said, “Ooh! That sounds wonderful! All I've ever wanted is to see my little mare be happy! Maybe after you're done, you two can be married and move in? We'll have a happy home!” She whistled cheerfully, and even Quicksilver chuckled and smiled, despite doubts written across his face.

“Unlikely,” muttered Atalanta, who barely touched her food and instead drank her tea. She finished her drink and rolled up her scrolls. “Come on, Danse!” She retreated up the stairs.

Quiver cheerfully called, “Protection~!”

Danse pulled back up his hood to cover his sheepish face, met by a defensive look from Quicksilver. The black reaper bowed and thanked the parents for the meal before he followed Atalanta to her room to resume their research into the soul-intertwinement spell in privacy.

Moxxi whistled, her melancholy mixed with cheer. “Yeesh! Talk abaht awkward first impressions. Nah footsies or aahhht!”

“This only proves how much of a coward he was in life,” surmised Zeloph while following the pair up the stairs.

'We never so much as kissed in a chaste manner,' came a muted, disembodied voice. 'If only she gave in to me then. I could have saved her…'

Bellatrix’s eyes darted around. “Mortis! Show yourself, you rotten bastard!”

The hut faded around them, and Moxxi, Zell, and Bella were transferred to the cliffside that overlooked the sea, dotted by a solitary etched gravestone to mark where Quiver Bolt had been put to rest after her suicide. Next to it stood Quicksilver Bullet’s tombstone, his beaten hat resting atop. And hovering over was a solitary ball of baleful light, the sounds of sobs resonating from it.

Moxxi gasped. “I-I fin' that’s..!”

Zeloph walked slowly towards the soul, each step closer revealing the familiar shape of his beloved. “Atalanta…”

The spectral mare was hunched down, dead hands and roots clinging to her limbs, trying to pull her under. All the way repeating a mantra of how sorry she was for murdering her parents.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… please forgive me…”

Swooping down was the pale raven creature, its pale gaze fixated on Zeloph as if waiting for him…

'Go to her, Zeloph,' a warm voice encouraged, which the angelic demi realized came from the Crucible. “Let her hear you...”

Wordlessly, Zell put down his sword and knelt behind the wailing soul of Shadow Scythe. Moxxi attempted to follow but was pulled back by Bellatrix, who shook her head.

Mustering as strong a voice as he could, the seraphic demi wrapped his hands and wings around the apparition and gently told her, “I’m here, Atalanta… please, come back to me..!”

Tears fell from his tired visage, carrying small embers that ignited the decaying soil not with fire but with life. Grass and flowers sprouted forth in full bloom, releasing inconceivable energy that assimilated into Shadow Scythe’s soul. The corpse's hands shriveled into dust, carried by wind and sound as Sacatera’s song strengthened within the void.

The soul emitted a gasp, her tear-streaked eyes opening with alarm as she saw her one and only clutching her tightly.

“… Zeloph…?!”

The world around them shattered like glass shards and dissolved into the blinding illumination.

The fallen earth’s song carried them back to reality, whereupon a flood of souls burst free from Mortis’ wound, knocking Zeloph, Moxxi, and Bellatrix backward. One by one, the baleful orbs returned to the ether. The reaper was aghast, grasping to try and keep the fleeing souls inside him.

“No, wait! Come back!” He ordered until the final soul wriggled free, taking the form of the white raven before their eyes. Then, as the avian sailed around the group, it gradually took on a humanoid shape and touched down on its feet.

The pale light faded, revealing a newly formed demi-human with dark gray skin, deprecated by white markings that resembled bones. Snowy shoulder-length hair cascaded down from her head, messy bangs hooding her forehead with a few stains stylized like a scythe. Her long narrow tail lifted from above her pert bottom, tipped with a ghost lily.

Raven-shaped winged ears unfurled from either side of her head. And when the demi-human took her first pained breath, her eyes opened to reveal icy gray orbs. Her lithe bosom expanded and contracted as she strained a little to settle in with her return to the living world.

Tearfully, Zeloph called out, “A-At...Atalanta?! Y-you're-”

Danse Macabre stumbled behind them, shouting in denial, “No...! NO! It can't be! You can't be...!”

A familiar cool gaze hardened on the reaper demi’s face, and a recognizable smile spread her lips.

“...reborn!”

Atalanta lifted into the air, floating past Moxxi and Bella, who held bewildered looks as her lips met Zeloph's. She wrapped her slender arms around him, pressed her nakedness into her love as her tongue danced with his own, starved of his tender love and warmth. Finally, with a reluctant ache, she withdrew in a strand of saliva connecting their warm lips, a feverish blush written across her delicate face.

Zell was momentarily stunned before stammering, “Wh-what… how… why… I-I have so many questions!”

Atalanta tittered, stroking his cheek. “Those can come later. Because the only thing keeping me from ravaging you into the ground for a month nonstop is still standing sixty feet from us~.”

With her rebirth came the heated, passionate emotions once repressed from her previous life as a mare. Her built-up desires flourished as Atalanta guided his hands to brush over her perky breasts and supple ass, a tease to tantalize how she planned to celebrate their imminent victory.

Leaving her future husband flustered, the death angel approached her vengeful executioner, using a spell to summon her clothes with a deft wave. Adorning her was a sleeveless sand-colored top with jagged cuts that highlighted her slim underboob. Torn shorts with a skull ornamental belt clothed her shapely waist. And returning to her was her pale white cloak and hood; cape tipped with darkness.

“Hello, Danse,” she greeted with a sassy tone. “Happy to see me again~?”

“Not another word, traitor,” barked Mortis as he attempted to cast aside his flesh once more and retake his skeletal form; the lingering remnants of his former life faded between. “How dare you live again!”

“I’m not so easily done in by a simple soul-entwinement spell,” the reaper demi remarked. “All those years studying, crafting it to perfection. Wasted. If you only knew how gravely disappointed the old order is in what you’ve become, Danse.”

“Danse is DEAD!” The charred reaper proclaimed. “I am Mortis Saltaire! Death personified! This is my domain now, Shadow Scythe! As is your Onoma, Thanatos!”

Atalanta shook her head and calmly rebutted, “You’ve only taken the worst parts of me, Danse. I’ve left behind that empty, bitter life of megalomania…”

A black and blue aura rose from her reaper’s cloth, manifesting into her hand a duel-ended scythe, which she twirled skillfully before striking her battle pose.

“…Let me show you how far I’ve come!”

Atalanta launched forward, the ends of her cape spread apart like wings. Mortis retaliated by throwing deathly projectiles and dark magic. But the reaper demi took on an intangible state, passing through the spells cast her way like a phantom, becoming corporal once she arrived within range.

She assailed the battered lich head-on, his rust-colored guillotine scythe easily knocked aside by her duel-bladed weapon that swirled under her deft, precise moments.

Zeloph, Moxxi, and Bellatrix watched from the sidelines in amazement. The difference in power proved obvious by how gracefully Atalanta danced around her hateful adversary in a whirl of curved blades.

Mortis was weakening with every second; more drained souls returned to the afterlife, and the lich rattled under blow after blow despite his best efforts to counter her series of attacks.

That’s when Zeloph spotted the unkindness of ravens from before circling above, observing the fight between the death sworn. He wondered aloud, “Are those… the reaper order?”

“It must be,” considered Moxxi. “Maybe they made this possible? But why? She Son 'n Daughter'd them in cold blood...!”

“It has to be more than that,” whispered a skeptical Bella, yet she couldn't explain the logistics, either.

Knocked onto his back, Mortis' skeleton oozed blackened blood when Atalanta stood over him, a heel pressed to his throat and her double-ended scythe raised to behead him. He choked when she pressed down on his neck.

“Your quest for vengeance ends here,” she said softly before offering an ultimatum. “Accept my mercy and be put to rest, or return to the afterlife screaming!”

His face livid, Mortis slipped through the shadows and emerged shouting, “Mercy? From you?! Never!!”

Atalanta gazed at him mournfully and tsked. “You really are more like me than you care to admit,” she whispered. “Sharp...ambitious...and completely lost...!”

She summoned a white raven, which struck through Mortis' temple. He was momentarily rattled by the strike, marked for death by an eerie corvid symbol etched into his rib cage. From her own shadow arose canine-based creatures of darkness, the size of wolves, the shape of doberman pinschers, and the anxiety-inducing cackles of hyenas. Pointing her finger at the defiant reaper, she gave her pack of shadow hounds her command.

“Sic ‘em!”

All at once, the snarling dogs moved as a fluid unit to surround the undead sorcerer, waiting for the right moment to pounce.

“No! You will not have me… not while the traitor...!”

Mortis desperately tried to fend off the wispy hounds, but the shadowy weapons he summoned with Thanatos proved useless against creatures molded of the same substance. And whenever he swiped with his guillotine, more chunks of pallid flesh were torn from him. He shrilly screamed, overwhelmed, and knocked to his back while the shadowy beasts feasted on his remains and essence. The onlookers winched at the evisceration, Moxxi going so far as to cover her eyes.

With their target torn and bloodied, the pack returned to their mistress, who steadily approached in a billowing white cloak. His hazy eyes stared up at the reaper order, disguised as corvids, circling above.

There was nowhere left for Mortis to turn. His closest minions were slain. His army of dead was little more than fodder to be cleaned up. The lich’s own power was either useless or depleted.

“Memento mori, Danse Macabre,” said Atalanta, her voice solemn. “I’m sorry…”

He winced and choked up black blood once her scythe descended on him. Mortis started to blacken and crumble to dust, and his dim eyes widened as the unkindness of reapers descended around him and landed to form a circle that loomed mournfully. Only now did a measure of the stallion he'd been truly manifest, the Eldritch he'd made a deal with cast out with alien screams and into the void by Atalanta's dual scythe.

Memories of his life flashed by him. His admission into the order by a fellow acolyte. A fond farewell said to his parents, who'd already passed on years before his own demise. Grief subdued by his reaper cutie mark, thrown into his studies and failed attempts to complete the soul-intertwinement spell, in truth because he hoped no one would need to suffer the pain of loss anymore.

A child's dream, he now realized. But it had been all he had, always alone. Only now did Mortis realize that true death was to have never lived life at all.

“Tell me… How do you feel?” Atalanta asked with an almost soothing tone.

While his life faded away, Sacratera manifested around them once they were returned to the mortal plane. The soft rain fell over the ruins as the reaper order used the last of its power to protect them from the planet's hazardous atmosphere. In his fading lucidity, Danse Macabre uttered with final breath,

“...I...I feel...old...”

The skeletal unicorn crumbled into dust, and the order of reapers fluttered away, with the biggest raven carrying a piece of tattered black cloth in its beak.

Moxxi helped Bellatrix back to her feet, asking wistfully, “I… Is he gone? Does that mean—?!”

“Yes,” assured the she-devil, pushing back any lingering doubts to embrace the outcome. “It’s finally over…!”

Both sex demons watched as Zeloph steadily approached Atalanta. And for a moment, both looked at each other in disbelief that the other was truly there… before they crashed into each other's arms in a warm embrace. The seraphic demi tightly squeezed his lover's shoulder, one last gesture to prove this was real. That she was real.

Pulling away teary-eyed, Zell managed to ask through sniffles, “How..? How is this possible...?!”

“I don't know,” confessed Atalanta. “But I have a few suspicions. I remember it being cold, dark. Silent. Then a light fissured from above, lifting me back up, and through its radiance, transformed me. For some unknown reason, the specters of the reaper order helped me. Demi-Trix, too.” She murmured mournfully at the tulpa’s sacrifice. “I believe she allowed herself to fade out of existence so that she could leave behind what power she had for me…”

Zeloph solemnly lowered his head. “That’s why she followed me. I… wish I could thank her.”

“Me too.” With a shy turn of her head, the death angel asked, “So… How do I look? A-As a demi-human..?” She cautiously looked behind to observe her new tail, which gently wagged side to side. "Am I weird now, or-"

Gently, Zell pulled her face back to his, a sad smile on his lips, and gingerly whispered, “…As beautiful as the day I lost you...”

Atlanta returned the smile and, overwhelmed by happiness, kissed her beloved harder than ever amidst the tender, continuous rainfall.

“O-Ooh… Fuck! I’m such a slut for happy endings,” bawled Moxxi, unable to stop all the tears from ruining her mascara.

Bellatrix smiled warmly as well while holding the imp closely to her chest. Her heart swelled, the red-skinned woman hoping that one day after she’d answered for her own crimes, she too could share in such fervent emotions with the one lost soul she loved.

A match was set ablaze to light up a candle, providing the only means of visibility within an otherwise pitch-black tent. But in the presence of the Ebony Goat of the Woods, the flickering white flame turned black.

Both Lady She’ba and Omen sat across from one another, studying an eccentric chess-like board on a wooden table dotted with starved totems of various creatures. The board consisted of four spaces that formed a triangle. And in the center sat a large black goat totem, surrounded by smaller red pieces.

The nightmare stag, in particular, wore an irksome expression, finger tapping the piece near his left palm; a black skeletal horse. With a low growl, he flicked it over.

“Unbelievable,” the nahtdyr muttered darkly, rubbing his temple. “To think our stand-in for Death would fall so easily!”

One of the satyress’ thorny vines coiled around the piece representing Mortis and crushed it into dust. And in its place, she moved a white raven totem beside the phoenix opposing it.

“What a fickle thin' love is,” She’ba cooed. “Most view it as a weakness that cages th' heart an' mind. While others see it as th' strongest force in th' universe!”

“Love and hatred are one and the same,” said Omen. “You’d think a restless revenant, hellbent on revenge, would have made the perfect candidate.

The vessel for the all-mother tittered, which reverbated into monstrous echoes. “Death must be stoic, unwaverin' by such trivial nonsense. Death knows that e'ery story must come tae an end. An' Mortis clearly didn’t want his tae conclude anytime soon~.”

The cannibal deerman heaved a sigh and smiled. “It doesn’t matter. A bit of misplaced judgment on my behalf can’t undo what’s already set in motion. Five hours from now, Walpurgisnacht will happen... and with it comes the real start of our little game.”

She’ba snout wore a fiendish grin when she produced a new piece onto the board. A vulture totem made from rotten wood. “Th' Vile One has been secured, as has th' coffin. All that’s left is fur one more pawn tae succumb tae his fate.” She shuffled the piece slightly off the board, next to a horse figurine made from burnt wood and a stone bat-headed totem. “Should thin's go accordin' tae yer premonition, th' rest ov th' Horsemen shall be assembled. An' who knows? Maybe Death will reveal itself~.”

“Mmm… potentially,” considered Omen, shifting his hand towards the space where it was occupied by a handful of totems. A black unicorn and fly-headed figurine, both adorned by crowns, standing before a glowing mushroom. Attached to the horse’s snout was a white cap with an insectoid face. To the side was a smaller bat-headed totem, also wearing a crown. An ominous aura seeped out the crevices, its eyes glowing a haunted red.

On the other side of the space, the gray cervine lined up a group of totems in a triangular formation. At the head was a blue pegasus piece with a lightning bolt carved into its chest. Behind it was a duplicate royal bat-headed figurine, a normal bat-head, and another pegasus with a lightning mark but with a hole through its left eye. Then behind them were five tokens; a spider, a bat-head missing its right eye, a stony bull, a conjoining horse and deer piece, and a wooden bull missing half its face. They all guarded a moth figurine.

“Who would have guessed such an insignificant lil' world would harbor sae much conflict,” mused the eldritch sorceress, chin resting atop her hands, cleavage spilling onto the table. “If they were smart, they’d abandon their plight an' join th' main event!”

“Yes, well, I had to keep Beatrix and her entourage distracted long enough for everything to fall into place,” said the Seer of Black Dreams, his maroon gaze falling back to the top space of the board. Within it stood a ram totem made of stone, opposing a large wooden unicorn, while a duplicate of the black king unicorn was placed in between. Behind the ram sat a conjoined pair of lambs; one big, the other small.

“But, surely, we have more than enough forces tae start th' End ov Days,” said She’ba with a hint of impatience as she pushed forward three more totems into the top space. A pale butterfly, two conjoined bats, and a horse made up of wet rot. “Why do ye insist on waitin'?”

“Dinner is best prepared when the ingredients are fresh off the market,” proclaimed Omen, tapping Mandela’s Hourglass. He then introduced another set of pieces and maneuvered them towards the top space. A violet-painted unicorn, followed by a white doe, a white ram, a demon, and the raven and phoenix pieces from before.

“Only when she arrives does the End of Days commence,” the anomalous stag glowered, glaring at the totems with quiet malice. “Simple plebeians… I didn’t make up this whole ‘prophecy’ only for my work to be labeled onto the Burning King and his Vice Lords. It's the sole reason I interfered with their planned apocalypse. Otherwise, they would have ruined everything I’d laid out!”

“Perhaps ye were destined tae meddle wit their affairs,” the Black Goat of the Woods suggested slyly. “After all, if not fur you, th' Child ov Lightendark wouldn’t have been passed along tae one ov mah descendants. Nor would it be possible tae siphon th' power from th' Curator ov Time.”

Omen held up a large totem of an owl-lion, studying it with a narrow gaze. “The best prey are often those too vulnerable to notice when a threat is near. Enoch was never a real obstacle for me. No… That would be my insufferable offspring, whom they sent to spite me.” He chuckled with amusement. “But Abadonna will fail just the same.”

“Ye’re a despicable man, Aiden Darkbloom,” berated Lady She’ba. “Ye would destroy countless lives, erase multiple futures, and have th' cosmos unravel intae primordial chaos! All tae torment Beatrix Belladonna fur a purpose ye adamantly refuse tae elaborate on! It’s all just so…” She then shifted tone, moaning sultry as she shimmied her shoulders, causing her mountainous breasts to jiggle. “…Depraved~!”

His grin lengthened. “It's why you chose me to lead the Cult of the Nemesis. So that I may create a realm where all swear fealty to you and your lineage.”

The dark satyress scoffed, finger playing with the mother and daughter piece. “Yes… so long as I get what I want. I will not have my own ambitions trampled on simply because you wish to amuse yourself. I made you a multiversal monster… and I can take it away should I grow unsatisfied.”

Omen stiffened a bit by this threat but kept composure as he rose from his seat. “By the end of this battle, Shub'Niggurath, I can assure you; both our bellies will be full~."

With his scepter in hand, the Nightmare Stag made his exit out of the tent, leaving She’ba to herself momentarily. She wore a thoughtful smile, tracing her finger over the sheep and lamb totem, admiring it softly. Then, she, too, left her seat, placing the piece back down before adding a final totem to the board. A black eyeless stag-skull looming over the conjoined figurine.

And with a pinch of her fingers, the Lord of the Woods snuffed out the candlelight.