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And So It Comes to This!

The Sanctum of Aryan, God of Cats...

Moments before Ainerach touched the Ritual, scattering Necromancy to the fourwinds.

Inside the Palace, the ritual rages, warping all around it... and outside, Seventh Moon tangles with the Crimson Guard... Redrum-king, Lord of Massacre. One who could hold all other Exalted at bay. Holding him tight so the others could go on, could break the ritual, save the city... holding him amidst his flames.

The Crimson Guard: Moon touches the Crimson Guard... and feels the burning. It burns, over his skin, the liquid fire of death. The blood of the guilty, burning on Moon's skin, reminding him how guilty he is. It burns, but he can still hold on. But the Redrum, burning... almost breaking. While his vigil as broken, and those... those meat were getting past it! It might not be akin to Sondok, Guardian of Gates... it might not be its purpose, but it has its honor, its pride, and it was up to this task! That they were getting past him... That could not stand! The creature made a noise... a noise unlike anything living. A noise of a crazed killer, calling for Moon's death, as its bones begun to slither, becoming as bone serpents... wrapping around Moon's limbs, to try and crush the life out of the Lunar!

Seventh Moon: Ya fuckers better appreciate this! Moon hissed in his mind as the others scattered, abandoning him with the Crimson Guard to deal with the other spirits lurking about. The Lunar could feel his flesh singe in the Guard's burning aura, fur curling and smoking, upper layers of skin burning pain-pink. Nothing too bad, yet. But he wasn't about to give the bastard the advantage of slow-roasting him alive.

Or crushing him inward.

Sheeyit! Moon gritted his teeth as bone began to slither across his limbs and tighten around them. Was that how I looked when I did that shit to the blood chick back in the other church? Fuck, that's wrong lookin'.

And, potentially, pretty damn painful.

"A'ite bonehead," he grunted at the Guard, unwinding his legs from around it's arm. Still holding on with his hand, he swung his legs out behind them, then bent inward. His feet scissored around it's neck, ankles locking together bellow it's chin. "Let's see how that fuckin' floor tile tastes!"

He let go with his hands, ripping them free of the grasping tendrils of bone as his upper body swung down like a pendulum. The sudden weight bend the Guard backwards, just enough for Moon's dangling hands to reach the ground. Braced on his palms, he pulled his legs back, ripping the redrum off it's feet. It scythed through the air, a burning comet of bone set on a skull-first collision course towards an unfriendly landing.

The Crimson Guard: They fall together, but only the Guard is hit, the ground taking chips out of its skull... Sanguine Blade lays on the ground, away from them, and this time, he has no way to recover his lost pieces. The flame falls off him... and he is angry. Fround the ground, he pushes upwards, his bone tentacles whipping around Moon's face as he gets to be atop their act, blinding and hopefully burning and crushing his brain...

Seventh Moon: ... and it was a good plan, as well, for being born of the mind of a flaming skelleton. It had only one vital flaw. One piece of information that something born of murder would undoubtedly forget.

Dog's love bones!

Moon couldn't hold back the instinct as the tentacles writhed towards his face. He snapped, crunching one between the yellow-white fangs that lined his mouth. Twisting his head to the side, he bent the redrum's skeletal frame inward and clamped his teeth down deeper towards the base the tentacle sprouted from.

And what do dogs do with bones, once they have them? Well, hell! They burry those suckers!

Sometimes, the hard way.

Moon's back bent downward, grinding the redrum's head into the floor, then sprang back upwards. His heel's hooked on it's shoulder blades, hoisting it back up into the air and twisting free as the spirit of slaughter sailed back into the air... briefly. And, truly, like a dog hitting the end of it's lead, the Crimson Guard jerked to a sudden stop in the air as the slack on the bone tendril caught between Moon's jaws ran out. It hovered, straining and shivering on the end of the tendril, as on the ground bellow Moon pumped his arms and sprang upwards after it with a halo of dust and a sudden glare of silver light.

The Hound coalesced around the Lunar; it's head at his feet, it's maw flung wide. As Moon's heavy boots smacked into the redrum's spine, the Hound's jaws snapped closed as well. Man and dog twisted in the air, spinning the redrum around where it floated and driving it back into the ground once more.

The Crimson Guard: ... and Moon eats part of him. He screams, the bulk of his bones breaking on Seventh Moon's jaws. Only one of them is left... and it is still chewed upon. The ground beneath them was breaking, the opening hall of the Palace breaking under their feet.... until they saw it coming.

The power. The light.

All around them, the arc of the gate breaks, necromantic thunder coming from within the castle... and everything breaks, all around them... the castle to their left sending shockwaves on them... the stairway to their right breaking down... and the shockwaves sending both flying through the air, towards the forest of necromancy-twisted trees below...

Above them, Alexander's light destroys the shadows, leaving the boy unconscious.
Above them, the Blood Angel meets Avia.

But they fall, together, breaking so many distorted branches on their way... before the remaining tentacle of the Redrum's coils around a mighty branch, slowing their fall as a rope... but chewed on, it snaps, and both come down the soft earth like a comet... the Redrum above the Lunar, its sharp-ended fingers on the Lunar's throat, two sharp thumbs against the softest of his neck...

And his broken, chewed face roaring, opening sharp teeth, coming closer...

If Moon ate him, he would eat Moon in turn!

Seventh Moon: Well... shit. This ain't good.

It was an understatement of a thought, as the world around them exploded into stardust and sunrays. The concussive force swept man-beast and spirit alike off the ground. Moon held on tight to the Crimson Guard as they were suddenly plummeting through open air and crashing through tree branches, fangs digging deeper into the bones until the taste of marrow flooded his mouth. Then, something unexpected happened. The Guard actually saved them. Or broke their fall, at any rate.

Moon would have thanked it, were it not already attempting to drive it's boney fingers into his windpipe.

Empty eye sockets stared into inhuman yellow orbs that glowed in their outpouring of hatred. Muscle in Moon's neck knotted up against the pressure of the Guard's hands and pillars of bone grew out from his collarbone and broke through the skin and fur to stop the spirits grip from crushing the life out of him. On his back in a crater of soft brown dirt, smoldering leafs and broken tree branches raining down around them, Moon stretched his arm out to the side and grasped a particularly long and straight branch ripped free by their fall. His other arm barred itself across the Guard's non-existent throat, shoving it upwards.

As it's body lifted up inches from his own, Moon jerked the tree branch up between them. It slid easily through it's empty rib-cage and pierced up through the underside of it's skull; a second spine that blackened and smoke in the spirit's burning anima.

The Crimson Guard: The Piece of Wood goes through his skull... and the Redrum screams.

His scream brings out the fire. The fire of burning victims. The fire of burning souls. The fire of burning screams. And that fire is enough to break the branch, to turn it into ashes in Moon's hands. And the creature looked down... unfazed. Looked down, as his thumbs ruptured the flesh of Moon's throat, air already disappearing from his lungs, his face slowly losing its color...

Moon could see the grin in the face of his skeletical death. And could look into his eyes... and see all of it again. The killing in the snow. The girls screaming, begging for him to stop. The men with their faces bleeding in the gutter... making Moon feel his hands dripped as much blood as his enemy's.

And he showed himself in all his glory. Images flashing over his fire...

Showing working girls dead, by men who used their bodies and carved them afterwards.
Showing Eir Society girls pushed in dark alleys and slowly choked to death.
Showing members of a gang chained to a basement and slowly choking to death in the lack of air.
Showing a Spookie led to a basement and slowly cut and devoured.

The Crimson Guard is the Boil. All the Bloody Hands on the Boil.
He is the harshest face of Whiteshield.
The darkest face of Whiteshield.
Harsher than Moon.
The fear on his shadow on the Boil.
Merciless.

Seventh Moon: Pain. Not like he hadn't experienced it plenty already, but this was sharp and fresh. Hot blood boiled up around the piercing fingertips of the redrum's hands. Soaking into Moon's fur, it dyed the gray and dirty crimson. Flecks of blood bubbled out with the foaming lather that had worked itself up in the corners of the Lunar's mouth.

But there was more than pain. Far more. Images filled his mind, filled his senses with the scent of blood that was not his own. He saw murder, over and over, in all it's senseless glory. He saw horrible things. Wrong things. Things so inhuman that it broke your mind to even comprehend were being committed by those only all too human.

And he knew every shadowed alley. He knew every sheltered basement. He knew every whorehouse room. He had never even seen most of them, but he knew them just the same. He knew their scent. There was only one place in the world that had that scent.

Home.

"Ya don't know who the fuck ya dealin' with," he rumbled. A tremor ran through the ground around them, stirring the soft earth. The silver light of his anima flared brighter, swirling upwards like a frozen cloud around the branch.

"I'm Seventh Moon, ya nameless piece'a shit. I ruled the gangs'a the Boil while you were nothin' but a buncha fuckin' voyeurs..."

The light spiked out around the Guard. From the inside out, the cold silver radiance stretched through the spirits burning aura. Swirling like oil-paint through water, leaching the hot and angry colors from it until the redrum gleamed.

"I fuckin' lead a whole goddamn city inta rebellion 'gainst the assholes ya serve. I slept with the Dark Angel and the Iron Angel and fuck knows how many other 'whatever' Angels on the streets a'that city..."

Grasping the branch in both hands, he shoved back, pushing it away from him and letting the momentum haul him up to his feet. They stood face to face, Moon's neck craned to meet it's empty gaze with yellow-eyed defiance. Blood oozed out of the corners of his mouth, staining his muzzle black. And he grinned with blood-smeared fangs, twisting the branch, screwing it's jagged point up into the Guard's skull.

"That's what I hate 'bout ya shitbags, y'know? That's all ya see is death. That's all ya think matters. You 'n the Bishop and all the fuckers who come trottin' outta the dark. Well, I fuckin' killed for that and I already fuckin' died for it and I know for goddamn sure that there's more ta that place than that. More than'a worthless shit like you could ever comprehend..."

"Somethin' thats in me! In every miserable fucker who ever crawled outta a shitheap ta be somethin' more! In every angry punk who draws a line on the ground and dares anyone ta fuckin' cross it! In every beat up workin' girl who said 'No more' and clipped the balls off'a some woman-beatin' John. It's somethin' you'll never see, cause ya too busy beatin' ya boney meat ta little girls gettin' their guts cut open. It's life, and it's stronger than a worthless fucker like you!"

The light flared brighter, the Hounds eyes opening wide above him as Moon's arms strained to life the Guard upwards, to rip those hands from his throat. "Ya tryin' break me showin' me my city? I'm Seventh goddamn Moon and I AM THE FUCKIN' BOIL! "

The Crimson Guard: Moon ripped the hands off his throat... the bone wrists breaking under Ebb and Flow's grip. All of its images... became nothing. Moon's light coursed through it... moonlight, purifying the dirty blood, the dirty flames. And then he came. The Dog. The Devourer of Heaven.

Unfazed in the face of the Lord of Massacre.
Howling.

For it, all the power in front of him was nothing... simply bones.

Bones crushed under its jaw.
Fire eaten like whipped cream.

Moon felt all they had stirred disappear. He felt all the screams and the blood of countless thousand victims... breaking, as if freed from their cages. But not as screams... they became jubilous voices, a choir of thousands of voices, the imprint of their souls, forever in agony, finally feeling justice is served.

Memories coursed through him... as the Devourer continued.

And then, there was no more fire.
And then, there was no more blood.

And then, he knew the Crimson Guard was no more.
Simply a few bones clad in tattered leather under the dog...

And within the necromancy-distorted woods of Aryan's playground, as light flared from above and gave them spring, Moon could hear the laughs that were once screams trapped inside his foe...

Seventh Moon: The Hound shook it's head, flinging a crimson mist of bloody Essence off it's muzzle. It took a step back, threw it's large head high, and let out a silent howl of pride and triumph. Moon almost joined it, but he didn't want to silence the sound in his head.

The sound of cheering.
The sound of joy.
The sound of life.

They were laughing within him, all those nameless faces who'd suffered their anonymous deaths, and much as he ever felt fruity using the word: the sound of it was beautiful. He wasn't sure what it meant; if they'd really been trapped or simply suffering somewhere beyond sight. He didn't care, so long as they sounded happy. At least he could feel reasonably certain he'd never have to bring any of them a second death for serving the Bishop.

"I am the Boil," he repeated to himself, the words somehow comforting to reaffirm. To know that they were true. Seventh Moon smiled to himself, briefly, proudly.

Then, it was back to reality. The voices faded with the manifestation of the Hound and Moon swallowed; a difficult and painful task. He dragged up the last of the reserves Ryshassa and Kanti had worked so hard to refill, pouring it into the torn and bloody flesh on his throat. Slowly, rends began to mend and skin restiched itself. It made breathing easier. Might have even cured his voice of the telling rasp that had filled it; he didnt have anything more to say to really find out. The scorched fur on his chest and arms began to fall away, showing off the red and black burns bellow before new growth rose quickly to cover it.

Moon leaned down to the pile of broken bone on the ground in front of him, digging out a femur and what looked like what was left of a hand. And, with a pause and after considering it carefully a moment, the hollow skull, still staked onto the end of the tree-branch.

The femur went into his mouth.
The hand dropped into his pocket, where a moment later the sound of crackling and crunching confirmed that White Dog had gotten it's mouth around the offering. And the skull came off the stick and dropped into his other pocket. It made an awkward and lumpy trophy, klunking against the broken feline statue with every step he took back towards the cliffside he'd fallen from.

Moon made no hurry of it, he'd never make it back up in time to do much good anyway. Chewing on the bone idly as he paced through the forest, from the air a glimmering will'o'wisp of silver gliding through the woods.

It has come to this!

Inside the Palace....

Calobis: Calobis had his arms open... soaking on the power about him. He looks upon Kanti... and smiles.

The emerald sliver on his head shines, almost like a caste mark.

And the way he looks at her... like many had before. It was serene. It was not like many she had seen... it was unlike the Dead Hand, it was unlike Obsidian, it was unlike Niremar. It did not see a Fire Aspect. It did not see a Human, or a Dragonblooded. It was the expression of her former master, of her peers. He saw her as a Knight of Heaven. He saw her stance, it saw her movements. He saw all of her... and was ready.

"I know of you." He finally speaks, in a voice not unlike velvet. A beautiful voice... like a beautiful lullaby. "I know of all the harm you have done to us. All those the Dead Hand has irrevocably lost because of you. I know the mistake the Whore has made, letting you live. But that will be re..."

And then, the sun came. It crashed overhead, a lance of power over them.... it was blinding. All was light, breaking the darkness, washing the bodies of kittens and humans... and destroying all about them. the roof was coming down, the pillars blown away, the spell blown in a million pieces... for Kanti, the whole world was breaking.

And all of it came over Calobis, the feline god falling from the ceiling...

Kanti: Alexander! My Prince!

She almost screamed as the holy fire coursed down her body from the ceiling, ripping the comfort of the necromancy from her, scoring lines almost as black as the necromancy itself along her skin besides the scars, punishing her for the darkness, punishing her for the anathema she carried on her skin. She barely noticed the fall, wrapped up as she was in her own private agony, the five dragons guiding her by instinct alone, kicking off the larges chunks of the temple, leaving small flowers growing from them , flowers that would crunshed unless they were lucky ... but she had no time to worry about them.

And then the burning stopped, and the world was still, the dust coiling around her, bourne up be the heat radiating off her.

She glanced over to the catgod at as he lay there, mewing oh so weakly in pain, and Calobis picking himself from the rubble, the dust sliding from him.

And so it comes to this. I must save the god and yet Calobis will not let me. I must find my prince and yet Calobis will not let me. I must live and yet Calobis will not let me. And so it comes to this.

"Come then, Calobis, Spinner of Ashes and Celebrant of Shadows. We must dance in the temple of another god, you and I, infinity against nothing."

And so it comes to this.

Calobis: He raises from the rubble, covered in dust...

His form hanging low, covered in shadow, only eyes of undifferentiated white and the sliver of emerald shining towards Kanti.

His voice was still suave... but there was an undercurrent there. An undercurrent of an entity whose plans are foiled. An undercurrent of an entity of great power, ready to unleash it in all around it. An undercurrent of wrath. "Come then, Knight of Heaven. And you shall see... that I am... indeed.... above all the cycles you serve!"

Kanti: Kanti drew in a breath to calm herself, closing her eyes for an instant, drawing herself up on one leg as she centers herself, taking the last moment before the fight to ensure all was right with herself.

I have not fought a being such as this in a long time.
Nerimar was merely a warm-up. He would only see me trapped in nightmares.
Obsidean was a practice. He would merely kill me.
Calobis will pull my soul to void, and I do not think the infinite radiance would stop it.
Perhaps it is time to try the smoke dragons dance.

And with that thought she opens her eyes and then she flows along the broken temple, leaving a trail of irises and flames behind her, the motions of her dance weaving smoke and incense and the ethereal blood petals drifting through the temple tighter around her, obscuring some of her perfect form, graceful legs and arms and crimson and black skin occasionally visible through the cloud.

She brings her dance right to Calobis, and then the spear flashes in more than show, darting in past his long limbs, seeking the harlequin armour and a way through it with sharp, painless precision.

Calobis: He sees her coming, and straightens himself. It is not a position for battle, almost one for seduction. He sees her walking over the debris that surrounds them, the necromantic energies bursting about them... rocks falling, and rocks falling upward in what is more a nightmare than anything else. And when she comes to him, the rubies in his body flare. They flare almost like an anima, covering his form in fine red mist, as he steps aside from her strike... and his form becomes indistinct shards of void within the red mist, with little for Kanti to strike.

The mist evades her, the spear striking at nothing... it floats in the air, coalescing ten yards away, behind a fallen column, where he watches the Fire Aspect... the mist still about him, red coating black to black coating red. And he waits, to see her speed, to measure her range.

She fast. Jumping over the fallen column, she came for him still, relentless on her onslaught. The Hekatonkire's form begun to disappear into fine mist once again, letting the spear chase reflection of the shards within the mist... and for a single moment, both the red mist and the black smoke touch, and kiss as lovers do. But like a rehearsed performance, they gently break up, each one ending on a different side of the dancing grounds.

And she was still coming! The Hekatonkire observed, as she jumped over the broken organ, around upward-falling debris... no matter how far he moved, she still came for him! She was very, very mobile, and these tricks would not work. And thus, he needed to use others. He opened his hand, and the shards filled the air, bright crimson getting into Kanti's way like a swarm of diamond-shaped, hard-sized shields, deflecting her spear away from the target as much as they could...

And Calobis steps aside, Kanti's blow thrown of its course... and looking down on the woman... no, despite her age, the girl wrapped in the crimson shards at his side. His white eyes whispered to her as he watched her movements... they whispered admiration. They whispered care. They whispered her fate. And on the back of his forearms, great fins jotted out in white and black, shining alabaster and obsidian. He crossed his arms in a martial stance Kanti had never seen before. And dancing, stepping on every direction around her, proceeded to try and cut her form with them...

Kanti: Kanti followed through after the spear missed Calobis, spinning in place beside him as she readied herself for his counter blows, letting the upward motion of the rubble carry her up and away from him, making him follow her up into the sky, even as she called on the temple, called on the cat god, called upon the last vestiges of Creation left within the once sacred and sacrosant place, called on them to witness her treatment on the clawblades of Calobis, the shame they brought playing on his admiration of her, his care. He would not harm her.

Calobis: He cuts her... and with the cut, comes the spear. To strike him, as he had struck her...

His fins imbedded in her, he jumped back, inteing to fall far away, away from her spear, the ruby crystals on his wake...

Calobis lands not too far away, over the organ, still-working notes making a dramatic sound.

A large chunk of the ceiling falls between them, as Kanti's blood drips from his fins, as they went in, as he pulled them out to jump away from her spear. Kanti feels the venom coursing through her veins, making her scars burn with the void infused within... it hurts so. It pleases so. Like for Kanti, she knows, this poison will make her die with a smile on her lips. But very unlike Kanti, it will hurt so much more than it even should to get there.

Kanti: Creation pleaded.
Creation begged.
Creation succeeded.
All but once.
Kanti fought back a shiver, Kanti fought back a shudder, as the venom courses through her veins.
Another strike like that, and I will not be.
Another strike like that, and I will cease to be.
Another strike like that. and the blessed Void will take me.
Kanti stands there oddly calm, ready to accept her death, to leave her prince.
to leave my Prince, when he loves me.
to leave my Prince, when he needs me.
to leave my Prince, when he charged me.

I cannot leave my Prince.
I cannot leave the task he me.
I cannot leave him
Not for the Dead.
Not for Calobis.
Not for the Void.

If I die in his service, I will see Samsara.
If I am to live in his service, I will see Samsara.

To her left appears ... herself. Olive skinned and innocent, a child of nine.

Samsara

To her right appears ... herself. Older, no longer a girl.

Samsara

Beyond herself to the right, appears ... herself. Older still, resplendant in her crimson skin.

Samsara

Beyond herself to the right, appears ... herself. Even older now, her every motion refined, skin glowing with inner flames.

Samsara

Beyond herself to the right, appears ... herself, her smile starting to fade alittle, black hair streaked with grey.

Samsara

Beyond herself to the right, completing the circle around the centre of the temple, there appears ... herself. Hair white now, skin so dark it's almost black, occasional sparks visible below.

From the view of the last of Aryen's cats, high up in the roof the temple, she forms a perfect circle around Calobis in the centre of the temple. And then she starts to run inwards, along the spokes of the wheel.

Seven spearpoints define those spokes, a solid line of flames behind each of the running, dancing figures.
Seven spearpoints meet in the middle, punching through Calobis, leaving him with no place to go.
Seven spearpoints meet, and then there is only one.

Kanti smiles up at Calobis, and she loves him.

Calobis: He sees the strikes coming... all of them. All those lights... all that power.... all those women.

She was pulling them out of the wheel. Out of her own soul.

He was surrounded by her. But he had spent millennia spitting on the face of the wheel. On the face of heaven, and the Exalted. And it would not be Kanti to bring him down. He looks in the eyes of Samsara... and gives his response. The crystal shines on his forehead, and shines brightly enough to ofuscate anything. He becomes a star, shining with his own radiance, keeping her back with his anima. He is a star of the void. His feet strike the ground beneath him, and it breaks. All of the cathedral beneath them breaks, pushing the forms of Kanti away, ground jutting up and down, breaking in many pieces of a jigsaw puzzle...

And in the middle of that, Calobis moves with such speed and power that the light trails images before and after his movements, as tries to evade all of the spears, standing between all of the many faces of Kanti, and in the heart of Samsara, shouting.

"I Stand Unconquered! "

• He is struck by the glimpse of Samsara...
  
  ... and he is conquered.
  
  The viridian light suffuses him, breaking the rubies... breaking, and breaking... and filling him, the mist, the crystals, filling all in Viridan Flame... burning him, burning all about him. And every time this flame breaks one of the rubies, the tapestry shakes. Each one that breaks, the whole reality around Kanti warps. It constumes him, it tries to push him foward...
  
  ... and Creation shivers.
  
  He holds to her spear. Burning, closer and closer to her... hand closer to her... to try and choke her? To caress her face?
  
  It is hard to know...
  
  It is impossible to say what he feels.
  
  Only that his eyes focus on Kanti...

Kanti: Kanti watches, as if from a great distance away, detached almost, as the seven souls she became slowly find their equilibirum within her, watching the rubies bursting with viridian, feeling the tapestry shake around her. She should be afraid but instead she stands there wondering ... wondering which one of her souls loved him...

Was it the young girl, naive to his treachery?
Was it the older woman, understanding, forgiving?
Was it the courtesan, loving all who visited her court to dance?
Was it the empress, secure in her position, looking back?
Was it the elder, seeing in him something she still missed of the darkness?
Was it the crone, loving all now, no room left to hate?
Was it me?
Was it me who loved him?

She takes a step closer to him as she wonders, watching how her proximity speeds his dissolution to brilliant green, her arms wide, accepting.

Calobis: His hand touches her face... the warmth... the fire.

the beautiful fire of the wheel. The infinite viridian radiance, coming from within the Hekatonkire. His fingers touch down... towards her neck. She sees he is in pain. She sees he wishes to strangle her. To let the void within take charge, and banish the flames...

... but she opened her eyes. She accepted him.

A saint, defeating all the void within him.

All his ties through the void.. wishing to assert themselves... withing his hand to crush her neck.

But she is so... so... so...

She has no fear. Even if he is the void...she loves.

The hand closes around her neck. but he does not crush. The viridian flames break the final ruby.

And his lips kiss her, tears of life flowing down the dead behemoth's eyes.

Kanti: Kanti lifts up her neck as his hands start to slip around it, accepting of him whether he wishes to have, or merely to hold, looking at him with eyes that are big and black and shinning with her love for him, for creation, for all things.

She watches the final ruby break, and she flinches a little as it does, watching the viridian light, the cleansing flames engulf him and she leans forward into the kiss, her touch the final push that sends him down a path none of his kind have ever travelled before, tasting his tears on his lips as she kissed him.

And then he is gone.

There is Kanti.
There is the Garda Bird.
There is silence.
...broken by a sob.

Calobis: He is gone from her arms, and the a moment of silence... until his form appears one last time on the viridian flames and light. All the rubies are gone... only the crystal on his forehead remains. His eyes are gone... and the crystal breaks. It breaks, and the world breaks. All the world around her... around them all.... it is such a moment, that part of heaven breaks. And the Sanctum is no more... leaving Kanti and the others on the remain of Aryan's temple...

Hearing the silence of the night.
The chriping of crickets.
The far music of birds.
The life that remains in the city, untouched by Calobis and his ilk.

Kanti: Kanti knew she should be scared, to have felt the sanctum shatter around her.
Kanti knew she should be wondering, to have felt a hekatonkire join the cycle.
Kanti knew she should be heart-broken, to have felt a love die.

Kanti was none of these things, she just felt cold.
Calobis, though she could not begrudge him it, had taken so much of her warmth, the rest stripped from her in the shattering of the Sanctum, and so there she stood, shivering a little, and wondering about her Prince, Moon and Elizabeth...

"Meow?"

The sound came from the broken ground somewhere near her feet, and Kanti looked around with tearstained eyes for the source of the noise. When she spots the kitten then, she breaks into a smile, holding her hands out towards it as she crouches....

• The kitten looks up at the Saint... and jumps into her arms, happilly, green eyes curious on the Dragon-Blooded as its paws bat her face. Completely devoid of fear for her saintly form, filled with love, with curiosity.

Kanti: Kanti giggles, and lets a few more tears fall, and strokes the small, warm bundle of fur and looks about her at the devestation.

Narrator: The kitten purrs on her hands... moving up to her face, licking off the tears.

All around her, the remains of the temple, only a few collumns standing, none of the floors... and the two great feline statues in front of the temple, great gates to nothingness. Nothing within the sanctum remained... but around her, she could see Aryan... and Alex, unconscious, alive, not too far away.

All around them, splintered heaven falls like cherry blossoms.

The destruction of the powerful necromancy under Solar power.
The destruction of spirits.
And the Hekatonkire's 'death', breaking heaven about them in an irreconcillable way.

The Sanctum was no more, Aryan's 'home' now simple spirits slivers falling.

Avia was gone.
Calobis had been sent.
The Crimson Guard, utterly destroyed.

They heard Kanti sob.
They heard a mewling.

Eyes open, the stars shine under them, now after twilight... and all around them, the results of Moon's work. They stood amidst rubble, fallen ceiling and toppled pillars, broken bricks and pieces of altars. Only the two great statues of cats, standing and looking foward remained, outside of the temple, guarding the gate within... to nothing but a wreck, now.

Slowly, the prince got up, dust and shards of ceramic falling off him...

".. we did it..."

Seventh Moon: "Naw."

Came an answer from behind him. Moon had taken a seat atop of piece of fallen wall. He looked tired again, but it was the sort of tired that came after a moment of sexual bliss.

He was glowing, figuratively and literally, and grinning like a dog who'd just dug up the biggest bone in the yard. That, incredulously, may very well have been it. The Lunar did have a bone with him, a human femur, clean and white, that he idly drummed against the wreckage around him. He went on without apparently regard for the oddity of the 'instrument.'

"Not yet least. Still gotta break the rest, y'know? That's what the lady said, least. That killin' the ones in there ain't enough. Figure it sure as shit made doin' the rest of 'um easy though. Least wise by comparison, y'know?"

Elizabeth Holysword: Suddenly, Sunset Lament drives into the grounds not three inches from requiring Alex find another set of clothes and/or limbs. "We? We who? I killed the goddamn goddess, what were YOU doing?". Elizabeth lands similarly close, behind Alex and shining like the moon on a clear winter's night. A cold winter's night, The dark side of her caste mark was burning strong. Maybe no one would notice.

Seventh Moon: Tunk!

The sound the bone made when it bounced off Elizabeth's head was an amusingly hollow one, though it came from the femur and not the Lunar. Still, it was a fitting ending to the impromptu drum solo Moon had been tapping out against the remains of the temple.

"Ease of the kid, princess." Moon sniffed, hopping up off his seat. "Whatever shit he's still gotta learn and things he's fucked up on, Alex ain't never skirted doin' his part in this mess so far."

He stepped up closer to her, yellow eyes narrowing as he peered down. "Like some folk I could name."

Alexander: He looked up, as usual, mildly scared of his sister... but almost indignant on his voice.

"Hey! Moon allowed me to go! Kanti fought the big Hekatonkire! I... I..."

But his voice is cut in half, as it came... on the edge of his mind. A feeling of... enemy.

Cutting through his senses.

And making him remember...

The memory of the creature with the eyes of ice. The creature with the skin of Cobalt. The creature wielding Acheron, the dark goddess of Frozen Time.

The Blade going through everything. Scores of Dragons and Angels burning, at every swipe of the blade... burning earth and sky with Underworldly fire. She was unstoppable. Moon remembers the blade cutting his flesh.

Acheron
The word sears on their soul.
Acheron
The word of the blade, of the Frozen Time.

Acheron
Moon remembers being thrown to the ground. His love hurt. The creature, unstoppable, foot on his neck, a woman, smiling down at the might of the Great Eagle. And pointing the blade down.

Acheron
Alexander remembers, his friends falling. He remembers Righteous Guide, in all his power, in all his holy fire, thrown aside with ease. The blade was darkness incarnate. And she was the cold of the shadows incarnate.

And nothing could stop it...

"... I was destroying the darkness, sis..."

Elizabeth Holysword: Elizabeth rounds on Moon and looks like she's going to give an indignant rebuttal, but she just stops and shakes her head. "You stopped the Necromancy with Ainerach, Alex? Well... Good." She ruffles his hair a bit and smiles "You did good."

Alexander: Was it coming from her? Was it...?

It was.

But now was not the time... and when she touched him, ruffled his hair, he remembered his lady, he remembered Kanti. All around him are surrounded with darkness... and she saved them... and she is his sister... so why not? It made him just close his eyes, smiling... "Thank you, sis... we saved them. We saved them all..."

Kanti: Kanti slowly became aware that she was no longer alone aside from the small warm ball of fur in her hands, looking up and around, trying to shiver as she felt the aura around Elizabeth.

"...My prince?" She looks at him a little lost.

Alexander: He gets up, looking at Kanti... and the kitten... "Kanti!" He smiles. "Come here. You did good. Very, very good."

"I hope I do not have to see explosions for awhile, though... the whole sanctum crumbling apart, what was that?" He asks, taking some more dust out of him, looking at his dress... "Ragged all the dress, too. Sorry, sis..."

"Moon, remember me to call you when we need to do urban reorganization."

Seventh Moon: And Moon looks as though he wanted to dig his knuckled into the underside of Elizbeths jaw. Though he didn't want to nor acted on the desire. After all, it wasn't really his.

But for once, he didn't fight the memory off completely. Nor the emotions that came with it. For once, Moon and the man he had been long ago shared a distrust and a dislike.

Unfortunately for the aftershock of Ofaniel, Seventh Moon was easily distracted. His hands unclenched as Alex offered praise and he gave the prince a puzzled look in return.

"Wait..." he said, scratching the back of his head. "We done? I mean... fuck, was that it? Did we fuckin' win? Finally?"

Aryan: "You see anyone still standing.... little doggy?" The God asks, getting up from the rubble... a makeshift eyepatch over his eye from a ragged shirt. "Birds'll peck your eyes. Ain't that the truth..." He says, dusting some more dirt off himself... before saying, almost as an afterthought. "Oh, and by the way, thank you."

Kanti: Kanti smiles at her prince, and rubs her cheek on the kitten, holding it up near her face, hoping the fact she was crying wasn't showing on her face.

"Moon, look what I-..." she trails off as the dog starts to speak.

Seventh Moon: "Still see a couple, yeah..." he growled under his breath, throwing narrow looks at the Cat God...

But Moon was in a forgiving mood. And tired. So, for today, Aryan would be allowed to survive despite the sin of being feline.

There was always tomorrow, after all.

Elizabeth Holysword: Elizabeth was not unaware of the looks she was garnering from Moon and Kanti... It was like... like going to a fair folk party and realizing you'd put on the wrong gender this morning. Only you know, more with the evil and death. She edges back a bit, fighting a sudden impulse to leave quickly until Acheron has settled down.

Alexander: "Well, back 'home' now? I need a shower. To sleep a few years..." And before Liz can move away, she feels Alex's arms around her, between her wings as he holds her back... "... and to catch up with my sister..."

Seventh Moon: Rumbling as he rubbed stiff shoulders and a still torn neck, Moon cocked his head towards Kanti letting a weary smile work itself onto his face. "Whatcha got dar-"

Silence. Dead silence. Broken by a sudden ominous thunder that shivered the stones of the fallen temple.

Grrrrrrrrrrrr...

The Hound's eyes opened. It's face pushed through the air, looming down upon Kanti, an ocean of silver-white cut from a twisting haze. Dipping, it twisted to the side, a single eye nearly as large as Kanti herself blinking as it focused upon the kitten clutched in her hands. Raising, a cavernous nose pressed intangibly against them both, nostrils flaring as it silently sniffed at the two. Lifting further, to a maw whose teeth stretched beyond the edge of perception, steaming essence puffing from between it's grinning fangs. It's mouth stretched open wide...

... as a carpet of a tongue lulled out and slurped both Kanti and kitten in a lick that, had it been real, would have drowned both in it's cheer. And it's saliva.

The Hound began to fade and Moon stared up at his own anima with a venomously hooded gaze. "Ya fuckin' traitor."

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