The Theater

Sammy and Eita ran for the theater where Munkar awaited, the sounds of clashing metal and crystal fading behind them. At the very least, Azalea was holding out for now.

At the doors of the theater, Sammy stopped, and gave Eita a meaningful glance. He nodded in reply. This would never stop being embarrassing, but even with the preparations done, Eita would need power if he was going to fight at Sammy's side.

He heard her whispering the mantra under her breath, and braced himself, closing his eyes. For the second time, Sammy decided to bestow the Angel's Kiss on Eita's lips. This was slower than before, soft as well as firm, and he felt the inner fire that seemed inexhaustible in Sammy flowing into him as a steady warmth as she embraced him, intensity and pressure growing steadily without the shock of a sudden transference. Sammy leaned in, and Eita felt a soft press of feathers around him as the inner fire began to spark, overflowing throughout Eita's body.

Silently, Sammy broke off the gesture. Everything was left unspoken, and Eita told himself he'd neither speak of that moment nor ask after it. After all, it was an unanswered question whether or not either of them would survive walking through the door.

Sammy, half a step ahead, pushed the door open, eyes set forward and sword in hand, and Eita followed.

They emerged at the back of a small theater. On the stage was set the scrap-wood crucifix, to which the suffering Sara was nailed. Her bonds had been reinforced, cords of barbed wire tied across her, biting into her as she writhed faintly in pain, and Eita could feel his blood boil, ready to unleash everything he'd been given in a torrent of rage if that was what it took.

Perched at the top of the cross was Munkar, looking as much like a gargoyle as an angel, stooped forward, regalia knives blooming into existence in his hands as his halo-shrouded head leered out at them with a feral grimace his scraggly beard didn't hide, wings arched up and back like a billowing cowl.

There was another figure in the room. Cassiel, the angel who had challenged Eita and warned him, sat on the corner of the stage, back pointedly to the horror at its center. As Sammy entered, she stood, facing her erstwhile sister.

Munkar laughed.

“So,” he said, “you made it to the heartwarming reunion. If I were the betting sort, I would stand to lose quite a lot. As it stands, that just means I get to enjoy what's to come. Would you rather I take your head, or drag you before the Lord in chains like this one? If you beg, I might consider your opinion.”

“Not so fast,” Cassiel said, glancing at Munkar out of the corner of her eye with a look of disgust. Her expression softened as Sammy continued to approach.

“Samyaza,” she said, “It's been too long.”

“I know,” Sammy said, “I'm sorry.”

Cassiel extended her hand.

“Please,” she said, “come back. Repent. I'm sure, whatever drove you here, you'll be forgiven.”

Sammy shook her head.

“I'm sorry, Cassiel,” she said, “But I know I won't be forgiven, and I only wish you could understand why.”

“Samyaza...”

“I'll go by Sammy in this world,” she replied, “I may not quite be human, but I chose to live on Earth rather than die in Heaven.”

“You're going to die on Earth!” Cassiel shouted. “If things go the way they're going that's all that awaits you, and you alone really have the power to turn aside from that path!”

“I'm sorry,” Sammy said, “I really am, but would you choose a free blue sky or a gilded cage, Cassiel?”

“I...”

“It's as I told you,” Munkar said, “You must see that now, and know what to do.”

“What lies have you spun, Munkar?” Sammy demanded.

Cassiel looked downward.

“The laws you've broken,” she said, “and the things I've seen. This talk of freedom... I can't say I wouldn't want to be free as well, but from what, Sammy?”

The fact that Cassiel chose to use Sammy's human name wasn't lost on Eita, and he knew it wouldn't be lost on Sammy herself either.

“I can't explain it,” Sammy said, “It's something you can only understand once you've crossed a line that you can never come back from. I learned that the hard way.”

“Then,” Cassiel said, “I'll have to bring you before the Lord myself... and deal with the mortal confusing your heart so!”

Eita dove right away, and that was probably for the best, as Cassiel's diving strike crashed into the row of seats where he had been a moment later. Eita righted himself, feeling the inner fire burn along his nerves and muscles as he faced Cassiel. On the other side of where she had landed, Munkar had rushed Sammy's position, and the two of them began to duel, as Munkar came at her with reckless abandon and Sammy tried to keep a clean form to fend him off.

Eita didn't have long to watch before Cassiel was upon him. She had manifested a regalia, a straight sword that seethed with lightning, dripping electric sparks as Eita brandished the katana that Azalea had provided for him. He'd imbued it with hardiness and sharpness as ideals, but couldn't himself say how effective either had been, even now that it was what he relied on to survive.

“You're quick,” Cassiel said.

“I had help,” Eita replied.

Cassiel tested Eita. Her form was precise, practiced, and much like Sammy's. She cut not to actually kill, but to probe Eita's defenses and see how he responded. Eita gave space; the longer an earnest fight went, the more of a disadvantage he was at.

“I'm sorry it's come to this,” Cassiel said.

“Is that really something you should be saying to someone who you just said you'd kill?”

Cassiel came at Eita again, this time more seriously. He parried her strikes, and vaulted up a tier of chairs to try to claim some high ground against the angel.

“I'd ask you to just leave,” Cassiel said, “but you called Sammy your friend, so I know you wouldn't abandon her even if it's for her own good. If you did, I'd have to cut you down for being a fair-weather craven.”

Cassiel's wings spread, and she hovered effortlessly to Eita's level. Desperate to gain some advantage, he swung. His sword clashed against Cassiel's, and he felt electricity race across his nerves from a power not his own, wincing in pain before the parry threw the hovering Cassiel back.

As long as she was in air, Eita realized, she didn't have a firm footing, almost tautologically. But that wouldn't matter if she could just rush him again and again. Frantically, he tried to scan the theater for anything that could give him some advantage.

Eita's eyes fell on Sara. Even if she was in a sorry state, if he could shatter her bonds, there might be something in it.

Eita tried to make his way downwards. Cassiel followed him closely, pushing him backwards. Her demeanor was strange, her cuts coming in with clear killing intent now but no malice. She was almost like a machine, impartially running towards a predestined end.

At the last rank of chairs, Eita saw an opportunity, and leaped for the stage. Cassiel, however, was faster, and Eita was in no position to prevent her strike. As the point of her sword rushed upwards towards his chest, Eita poured all his fire into his shirt and jacket. Be as hard as iron, he prayed as his vision narrowed on the deadly point of silver glass and seething lightning. Be as hard as diamond. Whatever happens, just endure it.

Eita felt a brutal shock just above his heart as the blade struck, the downward motion of his own leap meeting the upward vector of Cassiel's strike with even greater force. The impact shook him, it drove the wind from his lungs, and he felt his ribs threaten to crack.

The imbuement held, clothing as armor, but not for a fraction of a second longer than was needed, as Cassiel's follow-through tore through and bit into his shoulder. Eita screamed as he fell away from Cassiel, a weak and strangled sound, and spots swam in his vision as he fell on his back upon the stage, utterly spent.

Cassiel had rushed near to the ceiling. She grasped her sword in both hands, holding it over her head to plunge downward for the killing blow.

“This is the end.” Cassiel said.

Down she came, touching down before Eita and following through with the massive swing as though to pin him to the ground.

“Stop!” Sammy screamed.