Friday, 22:21

Val's new body proved to be an immediate liability. The blast had sent him careening through the air at a speed that wasn’t advisable for continued existence. Orienting himself as he rocketed towards a painful collision with some drywall should’ve been easy, but his finely honed sense of proprioception was off. He wasn’t used to having hips. Or breasts. He wasn’t used to being so slender. Even the few times that he’d been subject to Melia’s wiles, it had never been this acute.

He worked it out at the last moment, jutting his ass outward and using the extra momentum to counterbalance himself. His feet slammed into the wall. It cracked, but he managed to use his Angelic essence to dispel the momentum. Still, it sent a twinge of pain through his shins and into his thighs. Painful, but not lethal. He’d live. Sighing, he stood.

It would’ve been a strange sight for anyone to behold: an Angel defying gravity, standing perpendicular to the floor as if it were as regular as breathing. Next to him, body crumpled into the cratered wall, lay the broken form of a woman. Or at least, the broken form of someone who’d been on his way towards the hellfire and torment of demonic womanhood.

Dane Collier. He was alive, but would not be for long. Val’s years as Chuck had taught him how tenuous mortal life could be. And yet Val wanted to leave. He killed demons and the visage standing before him certainly was demonic. He wasn’t so sure that there was anything left of a mortal man. Then there came a horrible whimper from the body beneath him and Val had to act with expeditious haste.

Val raised a hand and noticed a purple glint reflecting in the light. His hand was much more slender, adorned by purple fake nails. At least they’re not so long I can still type… He felt the Hellshard pulse and wriggle, sending an affirming jolt of pleasure rushing through him at the thought. Dammit. Severing the Hellshard from the Helldriver had dulled the corruptive power, but not stemmed it in its entirety. He’d have to make sure he didn’t have any…thoughts.

💕 Just keep your mind blank 💕. Yes, he had to-

Val gritted his teeth. “Erien,” he muttered. He heard a giggle and felt her presence manifest next to him. It was static-y and faint, mostly just a shadow of a feminine form with burning purple irises.

“Busted, huh?” Erien crooned. “Speaking of busts, god damn, Val.” Val’s eyes flicked downward before he caught himself. He scowled and shot a glare at Erien, trying to pretend he’d not caught sight of the ample, supple curves of his own breasts.

Erien smirked. “This is too much fun.”

“I will kill you,” he growled.

Erien rolled her eyes. “Ugh. We covered this. Plus, your bestie over there’s about to kick the bucket, so…advance the plot, bud.”

Val grunted. This new form was distracting. He wove together some runes and cast a glamour spell on himself. Just like that, he saw his old, proud form return to him. It was not real, not yet, but it was like a promise he was making himself: he would be fine again. This, too, would pass. He ignored the mournful twinge in his stomach. Erien’s doing. Must be.

Erien scoffed. “Fine, have it your way. I’m tired. Existing really takes it outta a bitch. Toodles.” She disappeared, leaving Val alone again. He was thankful for her departure. Had she known that if she’d persisted, it might have endangered Dane’s life? That didn’t make much sense. Demons didn’t care, despite Aevaenkiraell’s suggestions to the contrary. And yet, as Val's runework lifted the broken form of Dane Collier’s body and placed it on his bed, he felt a tender concern that wasn’t quite his own. The moment he perceived it, though, it disappeared.

Erien is still lurking, then. The thought discomfited him mightily. Her being around meant he had stay on guard against further attempts to-

💕 Ugh, fine! I’ll actually go dormant for a bit. Just…save the girl? 💕

Fine, I will save him.

💕 Semantics, babe. 💕

I believe you were leaving. The thought echoed through his mind, but found no purchase. He was alone. He was happy about it, even if he’d wanted to get the final word on the matter. This was good, though. He could save the gir- Dane. He could save Dane.

His eyes fell to the body before him. If a demon created by the Hellshard wanted this being alive, then surely it could not be for divine machinations. Still, he was honor-bound to protect humankind from the depravities of devious demons.

Sighing, he assessed the damage. Broken bones, massive trauma. It would take days to fix it all. He couldn’t counteract the transformation that had already occurred, but he could mend the flesh. His first goal was simply to bring about a temporary cessation to death. He closed his eyes, wracking his mind for the proper runes. They would not come to him. It was like they were just out of reach.

Or that they were being kept from him. The gall of her to do this. Val closed his eyes and willed himself back into the core of his essence.

~*

At once he was surrounded by the rune lattice that kept Erien at bay, deep within the sanctum of his soul. He peered past the runes and spotted Erien. She was asleep, a book open on her face.

Val refused to find it endearing. He cleared his throat.

“GAH!” Erien startled. “wHY?”

Val kept his face impassive, even as he felt a smile threatening to curl across his lips. “I need that. It’s the manifestation-“

“-of the stasis spell. Yes, I know. I’m you, remember?” She stood and walked over to the lattice. “I’ll give you this one for free, but next time? Next time I’m gonna mess with ya a bit?”

Val narrowed his eyes, willing away just enough of the lattice for her to slide the tome through. She squinted. “Nerd.”

“Harlot.”

Erien frowned, but she complied, passing the book to him. As he grasped it, the knowledge returned to him. He brought back up the runes on the lattice, almost grazing Erien’s fingers as he did.

“Rude. Is there anything I can fall asleep reading in here?”

“You’re wasting Dane’s precious time.”

“Please. We both know this is happening in a moment of temporal dilation. I know your powers and I need something boring to keep me occupied. You don’t want me meddling, right?”

Val took a long moment to answer. “I’ve often found The Tenets of Angelic Virtue to be a somewhat…dense text.” He gestured to a series of golden tablets in one of the alcoves.

Erien chuckled as she strode over to it. “Wow, Val. Less than a few hours and I have you talking shit about being an Angel. I bet you-“ Erien reached out a hand to touch the tablet. Where her fingers made contact, they sizzled. Erien yelped. Now Val couldn’t suppress the grin on his face.

She tsked, shaking her hand. “Uncalled for, you butt!”

Val let out a rueful chuckle. “You really believed that a fiend such as yourself could touch something so core to myself as The Tenets?” Val shook his head. “Pitiful.”

With that, he pushed out of his soul sanctum.

*~

He came back to himself in front of Dane. Only a second had passed, but it had been a crucial one. The boy had grown more pallid. He hoped there was at least something to revive. Val weaved a complex set of runes. They were not entirely dissimilar to the workings of the lattice that kept himself safe from Erien…against whom he’d gotten in the final word. A different type of victory. Saving Dane Collier from his own folly would be another.

He thrust his hands forward, willing the magic to halt Dane Collier’s demise. Its effect wasn’t curative, instead anchoring a soul to a vessel. With the energy Val had remaining, he couldn’t make it permanent, but he could buy time. Time he sorely needed if he was to save Dane.

Once the stasis spell took hold, Val stumbled out of Dane’s room. He required rest, just like any being. His limbs felt heavy, vision blurred and darkening at the periphery. The bed was too far. The couch would have to do.

* * *

Saturday 08:13

Purple. Val swore for a moment he saw something purple as he startled awake. It took him a moment to understand his surroundings. Living room. Couch. He looked down, hands tracing over the soft, wine colored fabric beneath him. Right. He’d passed out face down on it, lower body draped over one of the arms. As he pulled back, a line of drool tethered to a wet spot near where he’d rested his head broke. Val swiped the spittle away with the back of his palm. Angels did not drool. Must have been another one of the indignities forced on him by this form. By her.

Val curled his legs over the arm of the couch, pulling them beneath himself until he was seated. He stretched and pain danced through his limbs. His whole body ached from yesterday’s exertion. And yet today he had so much more to do. He flexed his hands. Sparks of arcane power shaped into runes. He could do this. The stasis spell would not hold for long. Even now, he could sense that it was beginning to fade.

Saturday 08:58

Val repaired the wall to the extent that he could - an acceptable fraction of molecules were slightly misaligned, even though they irked him - before turning his attention to Dane Collier. The stasis spell was failing, but he’d spent precious minutes finding other things he should address first. Finally, he could delay no longer.

If Erien was right and Dane Collier was too far gone, Angelic magic would only harm him. The stasis spell only worked because it wasn’t Angelic in nature. It was something older, pulled from a traditions before Angels. Val was loathe to admit the utility of it. He didn’t like that there were forerunners to him and his kind. He liked less the reasons that those forerunners no longer existed. Val brought out his hand and pulsed just the smallest amount of power into his fingertips. He brushed them against Dane’s stomach, prepared to reel back if there was an adverse reaction. No reaction came. Val sighed in relief.

Of course he was right about Dane. He’d acted rightly and expeditiously before. He would do so again and again until Dane Collier’s soul was safe.

The timing would have to be precise. He began in earnest, then, as runes flared across his fingertips. He tore away the runes of the stasis spell and re-purposed the glyphs he could. The rest would be a waste, but it scarcely mattered. If he didn’t work fast, Dane would die. Efficiency be damned.

He tapped into the reserves within his core and was surprised when he felt a second hand ghosting alongside his own. Erien. An act of quiet solidarity. He wanted to loathe it and found that he didn’t. The power thrummed through him and into Dane Collier’s decimated body. Bleeding stanched. Sinew stitched back together and bones reknitted. This was working.

“Pretty color,” Dane rasped. Val's eyes flicked down to his hand. Healing magic worked in the realm of truth. With the power Val was using, it could overcome any lie or subterfuge…even one of his own summoning. He saw the purple nails jutting out where the runes got too close. A surge of giddiness went through him and he felt the Hellshard stir.

💕 Oh shi- stop thinking!💕

Erien’s warning came too late. The disc of runes shuddered and danced for a moment. The instability of the magic tore at Dane's flesh. Pain – sharp, blessed, holy pain – raked at him. He screamed and thrashed as the work came undone. Panic gripped Val. The disc was spiraling outward and suddenly his mind wouldn’t work.

He couldn’t think. He couldn’t concentrate. He didn’t know what he needed he-

💕 Shhhhh. Just listen and breathe.💕

He shouldn’t listen, but he did.

And the disc began to regain its shape.

💕 Breathe. Relax.💕

The hand ghosting along his own began to stroke in long, languid movements.

Dane whimpered as the disc stopped tearing away, eyes shut.

Then his body slackened. Had he died? Had Val failed?

💕 It’s okay. She’ll be fine.💕

Val felt his gaze fall until it landed on the way Dane’s chest lifted and fell in a slow, steady rhythm. Then he blushed and looked away, not wanting to ogle the naked woma-

💕 HAH!💕

Erien manifested next to him, her arm looped through his. “I saw what just happened there.”

“No, you most certainly did not.”

Erien leaned in. An insistent pressure began to squeeze against his temples. Val felt the press of her, even if he knew she was incorporeal. “You think she makes a pretty woman, don’t you?”

Val shrugged off Erien. “I do not.”

Erien yawned. “Has anyone ever told you you’re boring?”

“I am a delight!” Val growled back.

“Pffft. Sure. And yet you act like you’ve got a stick up your ass.”

Val didn’t know why he said it. “It’s actually a very, very dangerous and very, very demonic buttplug, thanks.” He smirked.

“I- Y- Yo-“ Erien spluttered.

Val sighed and waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t you have some other psyche you can bother? I’m working.” He noticed then that he’d been focused on his nails. With the glamour spell holding, they were his old, masculine hands. Callous and roughened by millenia of warfare. They were wrong. No. Something else was wrong. He looked at Erien.

“What did you do?”

“Me? I didn’t- s-something’s wrong. I-I-“

Val had been run through by the spears of Hoarfell’s imp charioteers. He’d had limbs torn off by Selacron the Unmaker. He’d once been flensed and healed without end for a century in the Pit of the Oblivion Lord Garamoreaux.

The searing, horrible pain that burnt through his mind now was worse than all of it. He sank to his knees as it somehow still intensified. Out of the corner of his eye, just before his vision whited out, he saw Erien do the same. Not that he needed to - her cries filled his mind. For all her bravado, it was a glimpse of the woman underneath it. She was scared. So damn scared. So was Val.

It was at least comforting to know that she was like him, then. He’d never known it could feel this bad to simply exist. It was deeper than that, though. So much deeper. He felt himself drawn toward her. It was like the glimpse that he'd seen had become magnetized and he couldn't for the life of him stop. As he pulled towards it the pain dulled and then stopped.

Val opened his eyes in time to see Erien withdrawing from him. Had he imagined the brush of her lips against his? Even still, she didn’t move far if she had. They both knelt, hands clasped, facing each other. Their foreheads didn’t touch, but he wondered at what the contact would be like.

“This is a problem,” Val said, his tone soft.

“Yeah,” Erien sighed.

* * *

Sunday - 16:53

Val and Erien hadn’t spoken since yesterday; since that moment, kneeling on the ground, their hands clasped when Val could’ve sworn he’d felt… He didn’t let himself accept the flutter in his chest. In the afterglow, they’d both realized that neither of them much knew how to navigate whatever the Heavens and Hells was going on between them. Val was grateful that Erien had ceased poking at his psyche, though she was still free to wander about inside his soul sanctum. It felt strange to know she was learning him. He couldn’t quite bring himself to hate it.

Hating it brought on the pain. In recollecting afterward, Val had been sure that was a component of whatever had washed over him like a scouring wave. It’d obliterated any notion of cognizant thought and he wasn’t keen on repeating that. So he stood vigil as Dane Collier sat on the bed. Late last night, before he slumped into a chair, he bound the young man’s wrists and ankles to the bed frame with magic.

Val has expected Erien to at least say something about it, but she’d remained quiet. It’s not like he needed her to speak, though. He’d begun to sense her mood and urges. Unsurprisingly, the mood was often ‘predatory arousal’ and the urge was ‘to sate that arousal’.

Who needed a Hellshard lodged within your ass - for strictly protective purposes - when you had a demon lurking in your soul? Val grimaced. Great. Now he was making jokes. Angels didn’t make jokes. They-

His ardent self-defense of his chastity and virtue was cut short as the young woma- man. Dammit. Man. Young. Man. Began to stir. He reached to wipe the sleep from his eyes, but found that his hand wouldn't move. Alarmed, he attempted to sit up. His feet flailed uselessly.

Val refused to find it cute.

After Dane mumbled a curse and testing the bonds further, Val spoke. “You're awake.”

Dane glared at Val. “Watching me as I sleep is the domain of perverts and vampires. And vampire perverts.”

“Nonsense.” Val stood, and then stalked closer. “Vampires are a fiction. And I am a chaste servant of the Divine.”

Chaste servant of the Divine. Good. He’d said it. An Angel’s words, all of them, had to be bound in the truth of their oath. It was good that he could still speak the phrase, even if somewhere within his soul he felt the tickle of Erien chuckling at it. Never mind her, though…he had job to do. He had to protect the young man in front of him. A young man with the cutest crinkle between his eyebro-

“How long was I out?”

Val sighed. He had to stop that. Erien’s influence was making him think. That had proved dangerous. He would stick to facts, not emotions. “It is Sunday.”

“Fuck. And the ropes?” Dane tugged at them.

“Protection, given our last meeting. For mine, as well as yours.”

“What?”

“You are not yourself, Dane Collier.”

“You mean because of the...the way I almost became a succubus?”

Val gritted his teeth and sucked in a breath. “Yes.”

Dane’s eyes went wide. “The Hellshard. You-”

“It is still contained.”

Dane snickered and that damn crinkle between his brows was back. It was…Val refused to say it was cute. It was merely…palatable. Yes. A palatable crinkle. “Like...in you? How do you, y'know...?”

Val was never more aware of the Hellshard than then…or of how Erien had quietly materialized just over Val’s left shoulder. She didn’t say anything. She just…stood. Watching. “I am not subject to human bodily functions.”

Dane barked out a long, rueful laugh before falling silent. “So the story of the time you shit in that dude's car as revenge was a lie?”

“I found the details on Reddit.”

Rage twisted over Dane’s face. He surged toward Val. Val was glad for the tethers that bound Dane Collier.

“You're pathetic,” he spat. “All of this just to get a girl tied to a bed? You find details about how to do that on Reddit, too, you freak?”

Val glanced looked over his shoulder, feeling the presence of Erien, and then glared down at her. Him. And he was playing some game with Val. “You are attempting to provoke me.”

“Why wouldn't I be? This is your fantasy, right? Or did you want me to seduce you a second time? Get you to really express the girl you are?”

The words grated at him. They were offensive and profane. Whatever was going on with him didn’t quite make sense, but becoming like Erien? No. That was out of the question. Still, he felt protective of her in the aftermath of yesterday...and denying it would only cause him pain. He needed a distraction, something to tip the power of this confrontation back in his favor. He’d forgotten how well Dane Collier could wield his words when like this. Like a weapon. Yes, a weapon.

Val was an avenging blade, so he went with what he knew. A flash of runes danced across his palm and then jutted out. Space and time tore apart around the runes, rigid concepts underpinning the world reduced to liquid glass. Then, with a brilliant CRACK!, the displacement and the runes became substantial. Real. The Angel held a broadsword. It had a golden hilt inlaid with jewels. Divine, translucent flame licked up the length of the blade. In one deft move, he hefted it before resting the tip against Dane's sternum.

“Perhaps I misjudged you. Perhaps you are only the fiendish remnants of Dane Collier. Perhaps I should end you.” Val growled, low and scornful.

“You'd like that, wouldn't you? You’d love for me to be some foul temptress.” Dane rolled his hips. Hells. Why hadn’t Val taken the opportunity to dress her- him? The way sh- he was moving was…lewd. And it sparked something in Val that he didn’t want to like as much as he did. “You’d love it if I could lead you into darkness. I saw the way you craved it when I told sweet truths.” Dane held Val’s stare and let a wicked grin play across her- his face. “When you were on your knees for me.”

Shame burnt through Val, molten fury following closely on its heels. Of course she’d bring that up, of course she’d humiliate Val by reminding him of his place.

The Hellshard pulsed again and Heavens be damned if it didn’t feel good. Once again, he looked behind him. Erien didn’t say a word, but he saw the look on her face: knowing. Arrogant. It annoyed him. All of it annoyed him. He shook his head in equal parts amusement and contempt, driving the sword into Dane’s chest an inch. Val commended Dane’s willingness to endure. It was moral. Yes, moral and good.

“Just for once I'd like to meet a demon who wasn't so confident.” Hatred spilled from his every word.

“Why? So you could play on her insecurities? You s-sly dog,” Dane tried to keep the bravado, but the pain made his voice quaver.

He looked over his shoulder again. Erien hadn’t spoken. He wished she had. It would’ve given him something to fight against. Instead, he’d just felt her pressing in closer to his back. He hated it. Or, wanted to hate it. He hated that he liked it…and that made it worse because he could feel a whimper burbling in his throat.

“You keep doing that.” Val whipped to face the naked young woman he tied to the bed. She was radiant in her defiance and Val wanted to-

“Something's up with you, 'Chuck'” she made air-quotes with her fingers...and then regretted the way the movement made the sword dig into her. “Ow.”

The name brought Val back to his senses. They’d grown more clouded as Dane had spoken, but even the accusation - hurled in bad faith - was a reminder of his mission to safekeep this unique and strange being.

“I apologize. That was impolite. I should reintroduce myself. I am the Angel Val...erien. You may call me Val,” he said. Muscling through what had once been his own name brought a pang of pain. He could feel Erien wince with it, too.

Dane’s expression softened. “Dani. Sorry, I just...saying his name feels wrong.”

Poor child. So lost. Val felt a flutter of something in his stomach. It was endearing, the way that Dane insisted on being something he could not.

“And yet that is who you are. It tells me I'm right to keep you like this for a while longer. Until more of the corruption has receded. You may still be confused, but in a week's time, you'll be back to yourself. Provided...”

“Provided...?”

“Provided no self-congress.”

“Self-cong- you mean jerking off?!” A furious blush bloomed in Val's cheeks. He would not allow his eyes to drift down to stare Dane Collier’s penis, or imagine what it would be like to wrap his hands ar— No. Val was a chaste servant of the Divine. He needed to act like it.

“Only a week, just a week. Transformation of self is a willing act. One you must resist,” Val said.

“Which is why demons like me seduce.”

“You’re not one. Not yet. And not on my watch. I can help, if you'd prefer. There are certain workings one can use to ensure chastity.” Val's hands began to glow with power, the beginnings of spellwork forming at his fingertips.

Dane strained at the bonds. “No, I, uh...I'll be fine. I'll be good!”

Val felt a wicked thrill at Dane’s acquiescence. There was another word for it that lingered in his mind. Surely Erien’s influence, but all the same the word now conjured a different meaning. One that was perfect for when a beautiful creature gave its will to another. No. Val would not call this act of Dane’s one of submission.

Instead, he relented in casting the spell. There were other ways to ensure Dane’s compliance. He would use them, instead. “Swear it to me, then. Say these words: 'I swear to the Angel Val that I will not fondle, touch, or abuse myself in any lewd or sexual manner.'”

Val’s voice was so insistent and commanding that it surprised even him. He’d not used that tone ever. To use it for a sober purpose like taking an oath of chastity sent another tease of delight through him. He’d have to have a word with Erien. “I swear to the Angel Val that I will not fondle, touch, or abuse myself in any lewd or sexual manner.” Dane’s heated expression faltered and then he looked…crestfallen. Broken, even.

“Was that...magic?” He asked.

Val nodded. “Pact magic. Unbreakable, too. Which means I no longer need these.”

“Just a week and you will be yourself again. Your name will no longer feel unfamiliar. You will be fine.”

Dane’s confidence was shattered. Val could tell from here. “Great. Good, even. Um...listen, I got lightly stabbed and I'm still really achy from what I'm pretty sure was my body hitting a wall at hundreds of miles an hour, so...can I just...sleep?”

He was not the Angel Aevaenkiraell, but then he didn’t need to be to understand that Dane required respite. “Of course.” He withdrew and headed for the door. Behind him he heard the shuffling of Dane pulling the covers over himself. Val put his hand on the doorknob, but then he paused.

“I have trust in you.” He was unsure if the words were true, but Val needed them to be.

Sunday - 17:04

Val retreated to his room, unsurprised when Erien manifested next to his desk. He’d felt her disdainful glare burrowing into his back for the past few minutes. It set him on edge in a way that he couldn’t quite say he disliked.

“That was cruel of you,” Erien said.

“You finally speak!” Val said, annoyed.

“Yes, I do. That was cruel of you. Needlessly cruel.”

“I did what I must do. He is—“

“She is in crisis. A crisis you’ve made worse.”

“I did no such thing. He is fine. Or will be. In fact, I’ll make sure of it.”

Val breezed past Erien and withdrew a broken wristwatch from his desk. He’d been meaning to have it repaired by mundane means. Instead, it would serve a higher purpose. He clasped a hand around it and began the process of Working the timepiece.

“You’ll kill her if you do it.”

“No. I will save him.”

“You don’t get to decide that. She’s-”

“He is not yours yet.”

Erien placed a hand on his cheek. “Do you really believe that? Or do you need to believe it?”

Val didn’t answer. It was answer enough. Erien let her hand drop to her side.

“I see.”

Val took in a steadying breath. “I don’t know a better way.”

“I’m sorry for us all, then.”

Val was sorry, too. He spent a few moments writing a brief explanation on a piece of paper. He placed both the paper and the watch on the dining room table, sighed, and tore open a rift in the fabric of time and space. He could not wait any longer. It wasn’t to fix himself, but he’d taken an oath. It was something as unbreakable as the oath he’d just made Dane Collier take. It required him to hunt down and end the threats to Dane’s continued existence.

He had a notion of where to begin.

* * *

Sunday - 23:08

He saw the woman standing there in her wide brimmed hat, her beautiful, dark lace corset dress reaching down to hit the floor and he knew: this was Her. Maybe it was whatever understanding that Erien brought to the table of sensuality and the command that it could offer, maybe it was his own experience fighting demons exactly like Her, but Val knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was his Mistress. He loathed that understanding. He hated how deeply it sat in his core, how he could feel the infernal contract that he'd unwittingly signed twist within him. It strained to be felt. Strained to be honored.

It’d only taken a few hours of berating his sources to track down Aeselis, Gameswoman Exemplar of the Ninth Demon Legion. He’d only had to solve two lewd ciphers and defeat an escape room where each clue was subtly hypnotic to win his prize: her location. His head felt a little dizzy, but it was nothing. He’d survived worse.

Still, even before he’d barged into what appeared to be an abandoned warehosue, Erien had protested. “Are you sure you want to do this?” She asked, manifesting alongside him as he strode toward the barred door.

“It is clear to me that I must act with haste and end the problem that is Aeselis once and for all. You saw Dani. She was in pain.” Val said, concentrating on forming a battle plan. From what he’d gathered, Aeselis was operating to draw as little scrutiny as possible to her corruptive conspiracy.

After a beat of silence, Val looked at Erien. Her lips were pursed, like she was trying to stifle a small smile. Val wasn’t sure what he’d said that was funny, but then Erien was still a demon. No matter what level of understanding he’d gleaned from having one trapped in his soul, her mind’s machinations were still a foreign thing to him. Women and their ilk, so mysterious.

And now he was distracted. Distracted enough that he’d hardly noticed when Erien had said she couldn’t bear to watch this. So distracted, in fact, that he’d not even quite recalled kicking down the door and barging into the dimly lit warehouse. It was only when he looked past the woman in the wide brimmed hat that he recognized that he knew this place. It was from Champion of Defense. Or perhaps Champion of Defense’s version was modeled after this place. There were the same touches, but rather than a broken down forklift and rows of rusted metal shelves there were rows of desks.

Gaunt looking programmers and artists sat at each one, churning through the process of creating new content for the game. As he looked closer, he noticed that they all had Hellshards…and that they were all using them. He felt his own thrum at the proximity.

“Aeselis, Gameswoman Exemplar of the Ninth Demon Legion. Cease your activities now. I am here as an Angel of the Divine Justice! You will cease your…your…is that a new skin for the PNF-90?”

💕 Focus, nerd. 💕

Val would’ve cursed if he’d been able to. How was she being more prudent than him?

“Regardless, you will cease this at once and free this mortals…or I will make you.”

Val brandished his broadsword, the weapon slipping from that extraplanar space to perfectly rest in the palm of his hand.

“O little Angel, Look how brave you believe you are. Tell me, is that weapon in your hand truly one you wish to brandish against me?”

“You are a thing of pure evil and you must be dealt with. Your foul machinations stop here. Stop now. I will stop you.”

“Will you? Oh, well that would be fascinating to see! But tell me once more, brave hero…” She tilted her head upward just enough that Val could now see her lips. They were full and pouty, twisted into an arrogant_{, kissable} smirk. “How are you going to do that when you've already dropped your sword?”

Val heard the weapon clattered to the ground before he'd even realized what had happened. And then to his horror, He realized that he was getting aroused. The Hellshard flared to life within him, sending out a wave of lust at the understanding that he'd given in…

That he'd submitted to this fiend.

He felt blood pump to his cock even as something light bubbled within him. It was airy and effervescent and he didn't realize until it left his throat that it was a giggle.

“There. Now isn't that just so much better? I think it is, but if there's one thing I've learned it's that quality assurance isn't something you can overlook. So, mind filling out a survey for me?”

💕 Tag me in. 💕

Why? So you can submit faster?

💕 What? No. I’m a Domme. Kinda hate this. 💕

I have Her right where I want Her.

💕 I can practically hear you capitalizing her pronouns in submissive reverence. You’re cooked. Tag. Me. IN. 💕

It would mean trading submission to one demon for another. Heavens only knew what Erien would do once she was in control. And yet?

Fine.

Val felt himself fading, pushed aside into some other part of himself as Erien took control. As she did, the glamour spell that Val had used to conceal her body fell away. If it were him, he would have felt awkward and insecure about the body now on display...but it wasn't his body. Not right now. Erien’s slipped her foot underneath The hilt of the broadsword and flipped it to her hand.

“Ah. The little one’s come out to play,” Aeselis said, amused. She chuckled and then - swift as a clap of lightning - there was no more mirth on her face. Instead, there was stern disapproval. Val shuddered, feeling a wave of disappointment course through him. “Drop the sword.” He felt his hand open on instinct. And then he remembered that he wasn’t in control.

Then she charged forward, holy weapon in hand, and swung wildly.

Val flinched. Erien had no sense of skill or grace when it came to warfare and combat. Despite sharing an understanding and knowledge, there was a difference it appeared to the doing of the thing. It was no surprise then that _{his Mistress} Aeselis dodged the strike with the utmost ease. As the sword cleaved a wide arc through the air next to her, Val knew that he had to do something.

✨Tag me back in. ✨

“What? No!” Erien said.

✨I know how to swing the sword. The moment that I get stuck you will be back in. ✨

“No! I’ve got this.”

She swung again, this time cleaving through one of the programmer’s monitors. “Hey! I just got IT to approve that! How am I gonna be productive now?!” The man groaned. Then he returned to bouncing up and down on his Hellshard as he coded on his second, unruined monitor.

Aeselis let out a husky chuckle. “You’re adorable, little one, but not quite so physically gifted, are you?” She circled around another desk, putting a technical artist working on streamlining the compression pipeline for their art assets between them. The tool was unique and she’d just gotten it to build when Erien’s foot crunched into the midrise tower desktop. There was a flash of a blue screen and then the computer went dead. The artist hadn’t committed anything to Perforce in four hours.

Erien vaulted over the technical artist’s slumped, dejected form and went to bring the blade down onto Aeselis. She stepped to the side. Erien went tumbling past before skittering to a stop.

“You’d have to do more than that to beat me,” Aeselis crooned. “But you don’t want that, do you, little one?”

✨Don’t fall for— ✨

Erien dashed toward Aeselis. She pulled her sword back and then the lunged forward…just as Aeselis pulled an associate producer, still in their chair, between the two of them. Erien’s eyes widened in fear. She was a demon, not a monster.

~*

To Val’s surprise, he felt Erien close her eyes and then he was in his soul sanctum.

“You summoned me?”

“Yeah I'm really not sure how I did that, but this is not the time to sort of get hung up on any of this. I'm pretty sure we either die or get bad ended here and I don't want either one of those for us, so…let me in.”

“What do you mean let you in?”

“I mean drop the runes and guide me.”

“And how do I know that you won't use this to your advantage?”

“Because it wouldn't be fun! Don't know if you've realized but you've had millennia and I've had moments. I want more but I don't want to lose. Not to her.”

“Funny, I’d have thought it was because you wanted to save that mortal’s life.”

Val relented waving his hand dismissing the ruins that kept him safe. Erien stepped closer to him…and for a moment all he wanted to do was hurt her. It would be so easy. He didn't, not even as she turned to put her back to Val and settled in close. His arms wrapped around hers.

“Guide me. And save us.”

*~

Erien opened her eyes, feeling Val’s hands ghosting over her own. At first, she thought he was trying to embarrass her when he made her kick out her left leg. The momentum caused her to go into a spin. Val bade her to duck and then spring upward and she did. The blade grazed the air mere centimeters from the associate producer’s head as she vaulted over.

Aeselis attempted to dodge, but she was too slow. Val’s longsword struck true, cleaving into the demon’s arm. She let out a rageful scream and staggered backward. Where it had carved into her flesh, the sword had burned Aeselis as well. It left a long, wicked looking gash - singed at the edges and oozing black blood.

“You…wicked and vile creature! You’ve ruined my perfect form!” Aeselis growled, trying to cling to her noble bearing through gritted teeth. Erien presumed she was aiming for “staid yet affronted”, but it came out sharper. Good. Cracking her perfect mask meant that she was off her game.

✨Be careful. She might— ✨

Erien took the opportunity to slash forward, relishing in doing harm. Fiendish natures, after all, were difficult to override. At first, she was sure it’d be a wild, clumsy chop. Val’s hands grasped firm around her own, though, and made it something graceful. It would have been lethal, too, if Aeselis hadn’t managed to pirouette away. Still, Erien felt the tip graze something. Then there was an awful tearing sound as the bodice of Aeselis’ dress ripped.

“I bought that on Etsy, you bloody cunt!” Aeselis’ voice was sharp and high. More surprising, she’d said it in a posh, Received Pronunciation English accent. No longer was she the “cool and controlled Mistress of evil”. Instead, she was just an exasperated demon with her tits out.

Her immaculate tits that Erien regarded with equal parts respect and envy, and Val…it was the first time that she felt Val tense against her. Not just in the way that his hands gripped tighter around the her, but in the way his manhood twitched against her lower back. That alone made Erien want to do something bad, but more than that? She had a plan. She closed her eyes.

~*

“I want to give you back control,” Erien said.

“Wwhat…?” Val slurred the word a bit. Perfect.

Erien slipped free from his embrace and circled behind him, her hands sliding in around his waist.

“I want to give you back control out there,” Erien said. “And for a little bit, just in here…” One of her hands drifted lower. It was a slow movement and the intent was clear. Val didn’t make any move to stop it.

“Good girl.” For a moment, Erien thought she might’ve been going too far. Instead of bristling, though, or pushing free of her, Val relaxed a bit.

Erien’s hand wrapped around “his” length. “He” let out a cute little moan at the touch. “I’m gonna be in control in here, so that she can’t get to you, okay? No thoughts, and you just do whatever feels right…whatever feels good. Is that okay?”

“Y-yeah,” Val sighed.

“Good girl,” Erien said again, this time softer. She felt her good girl stiffen at the words. She pumped a slow rhythm. “The best part about this is that we both know this is what you want.”

And then she felt the rest of Val stiffen. Erien wasn’t going to give up, though. “You want to kill Aeselis, to save Dani’s soul, to be righteous and good,” she whispered, pressing a kiss against Val’s back. She felt “him” relax.

“Good girl,” Erien said, picking back up the slow rhythm. “Now kill her.”

*~

Val had heard of ecstasy. She’d heard of the way it could cloud the senses. She’d experienced what she thought was it a scant few days ago, back when the Hellshard and Dani’s ministrations had made her so confused and lightheaded. She’d been wrong.

This - the blissful surrender to pleasure she now experienced - was ecstasy. With it, something akin to clarity rang through her mind. She knew she had other thoughts, they just didn’t matter. Instead, all she needed was her single-minded focus on completing a task she knew would make her good.

She didn’t want anything else. All she needed was combat and blood. It felt pure in a way she’d not felt since last she touched Heavens’ Grace, long before the many years she’d been on Earth. She knew the fight was here and why it mattered. Angels and Demons warred for mortal souls for a reason. They were valuable and precious things that mortals themselves were all too keen to lose.

She kicked the chair of one such lost soul, sending the hapless AssPro careening into another desk. She’d be fine. Probably. Not that it was much of Val’s concern. Val flourished her Angelic armament with a twirl before resting a pitiless gaze upon her Mistress.

Aeselis sneered. “HALT.” Val felt the words push against her mind. For a moment, she wanted to heed them, but—

💕 Ignore it. 💕

That’s right. Val didn’t need thoughts right now. She had someone else to do that. All she needed to was to cut through Aeselis. To be good. So she did.

With one quick thrust, she nicked Aeselis’ other arm. Aeselis hissed and then flicked her wrist, summoning a force rune. She used it first as a shield to block what would’ve been an eviscerating slice before she projected it forward. Val deflected it, fiendish energy scattering into a miasma of red and purple fractals before winking out.

The Angel warred with the Gameswoman, neither able to land a hit as they blocked and parried. As they did, they passed by the desk of one of the game design leads. She’d just stood and stretched, trying to figure out a unique twist on their award-winning Battle Royale format for this upcoming season. Engineering had made big strides in their codebase’s re-usability and scalability since they’d all become dubiously willing sex thralls to a Demon with inscrutable goals.

Still beat working for Redfist or Impressive on Legends of Logos or Nitefight.

The young woman once had a name. So did the pretty slave whose desk she sauntered over to. At one point, they’d both been so…straight. She vaguely recalled that she’d had a fiancée. A man, no less! It was weird, now, when she thought about it. One of the big perks of her contract had been the consensual erasure and willing substitution of her sexuality.

She leaned in close to the pretty slave. “Hey, how’s it going?”

The pretty slave sighed. “I’m so…mmmm…close. I-I think the latest mechanic I’m working on will really draw in more ahhhhhn engagement.”

“Oh yeah? Show me.”

As the pretty slave demoed the build, her lead cupped her breasts. As she explained the elegant solution she’d found for min-max’ing, her lead alternated soft and light pressure. As she got final approval to merge into the next-season branch, she groaned and felt the wave of pleasure cresting higher, higher, hi—

Val slammed into the cubicle, decimating it. She’d barely been able to contort her body to miss the two slaves. The choice to save them came to her as instinct. It also came with a painful cost. She felt the bone of her blade hand snap. She tried to right herself, but something else pressed down on her.

Aeselis’ heel ground against her neck. As the two slaves continued to fuck near the ruins of what had been a junior game designer’s desk, Val felt weak as the Hellshard’s proximity to two others amplified its sway.

💕 Move. 💕

“C-Can’t…” Val sputtered. Aeselis leaned down closer. It had the effect of driving the tip of her heel harder into Val’s flesh. It should’ve just hurt. It didn’t. Instead, Val felt her hips buck, seeking friction. The bite of it was exquisite in its pain and the awful, degrading pleasure it drew from Val. She bit her lip to stifle a pathetic moan.

“I’m impressed with you.”

“M-me?” Val asked, voice breathy and far too excited for the praise.

Aeselis’ laugh was light, though nonetheless condescending. “No, little Angel. I’m talking to the one holding your leash.”

💕 Oh shit. 💕

“If you weren’t an obstacle right now, I’d be congratulating you on your ability to throw me off my game. But I don’t condone the use of third-party exploits.”

💕 Ah, fuck. 💕

* * *

Monday - 07:24

Val awoke with a start.

The pain She’d put him through yesterday was a memory, but still his body felt numb and disconnected. He remembered small moments of it. Aeselis had done…something to him. He’d felt demonic energy course into his soul; felt it clawing for something deep within him, scratching like a hellhound. Val tried to fight it, but he couldn’t. The Hellshard had made him weak and vulnerable. Whatever it was, it found purchase. In that moment, he knew pain beyond anything he’d ever felt. It was like what had happened on Saturday combined with horrible, Jovian pressure that threatened to rend not just his, but Erien’s every conscious thought.

He couldn’t remember the rest. The pain was too intense. All he’d recalled was that it stopped, thankfully. She’d not wanted to stop it, though. She’d said something, too. Not directed at him, but at Erien. Through the pain, he knew that those words were for her.

As his thoughts turned to his demonic trespasser, he realized he could no longer feel her as he did yesterday. Erien wasn’t there. Panic slid through him, icy and prickling. He pulled in a deep breath and closed his eyes.

When Val opened his eyes within his Soul Sanctum, he saw a tangle of dull blue and ruddy red light…and not much else. He blinked, trying to clear his vision. Only when that failed him did he take a moment to study the light. They were…runes. His runes. Or, jagged mimicries forced into creation by Her. Worse, there was a sickness to what he saw. Cancerous, demonic rot threaded through each rune. Even worse, he felt the way that darkness coursed in his veins. It was unwelcome and unclean. Punishment from his Mistress for the ways he’d chosen to defy Her will.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” Erien’s voice came through somewhat muffled, but hearing it caused Val’s stomach to flutter all the same. He spun to face where the sound came from, but all he saw was more of that dull blue and ruddy red mesh.

“Where are you? I can’t see you.”

To his left, he saw a spot darken. On instinct, he reached out his hand and touched it. As he did, something shifted in the lights. They juddered, and through the gaps he saw a glimpse of Erien. Then the rune weave calmed. No longer was it a strange and chaotic smear. Its pattern was similar to what Val had constructed to protect himself from Erien. He pressed forward and a small gap opened up in the runes.

Erien’s hand was warm in his as he grasped it. As he did, he felt that protectiveness and kinship with her return. Not just that, but the physical connection let him feel her again.

“Hi,” Erien said, voice soft and quavering.

“Hi,” Val said, not minding that his voice was just as soft.

“So, that sucked.” The edges of Erien’s mouth curled up as she said it. Her faint smile couldn’t offset the look in her eyes. There was something plaintive and earnest in it.

“You didn’t listen to me,” Val said.

Erien pulled her hand back. “What?”

“I saw the attack coming and tried to warn me- us- you!”

She folded her arms, nostrils flaring. “Oh, you did, huh?”

“Yeah! Don’t you remember? What part of ‘Don’t fall for that, it’s a feint meant to get you to drop your guard’ did you not hear?”

“The part where you never said it!”

“That’s not possible because I thought…it…” Val trailed off as more memories of the fight with Aeselis threaded back together. “…Oh.”

A furious crimson flush coursed through Val’s cheeks.

“Felt good, didn’t it?” The tease was back in Erien’s voice.

“…I’m glad I have the means to access the contents of my Soul Sanctum. I trust you’ll continue to be helpful.”

“Sure! Whatever you say, girl.”

Val huffed, and willed himself back to the present moment.

Val dedicated himself to taking the time to search the warehouse properly. Perspicacity would defeat the exasperation he felt at Erien’s cheeky statements. He knew there was nothing to be found, but Val tore apart each of the desks. And then he did find something…and he regretted it. It was a small rectangle of linen paper. The moment his hands closed around the business card - wedged underneath a corner of the legal counsel’s desk - he knew what it might say.

Aeselis was good at many things, but demonic contracts was not one of them. It’s why they’d need outside help. The card had a single teardrop-shaped flower petal, a burnt umber color in the center that resolved to a warm peach at the edge. Above it was embossed ‘Wilsner, Cass & Sabor, LLP’.

💕 Oh, this is too good. 💕

Val crushed the card in his hand. “Never again.”

Erien’s shadowy form materialized, seated on one of the desks. “Somebody’s feeling conflicted~”

Val brought forth a single rune. It was a rune of fire and destruction. He burnt the card to a crisp. “There. It is gone.”

“She’s your only lead.”

“I will not bring myself to bargain with her.”

“Why afraid you’ll like it? Or…oh.” Erien’s face fell. “You’re ashamed of me.”

“Of course I am.”

“You created me!”

“No, it created you.”

“And it is still inside you. You ever wonder why that is Val? Days have gone by and you know without the Helldriver that you don’t have to ‘seal’ it or whatever you pretend you’re doing when it plays with your ass all day. You ever think that maybe if you took it out I’d cease to be and then you’d have to really wrestle with how good it feels when I’m in there with you?”

Val narrowed his eyes. “…You’ve memorized the card.”

“And I’m gonna flash it in front of your eyes until you do the smart thing and go see her.”

Monday - 09:03

“My assistant said you threatened to ‘rain holy fire’ down on her if I didn’t see you today.” Gallia Sabor sat across from him in the conference room at Wilsner, Cass, & Sabor’s highrise legal offices. She was tall and elegant, her form poured into a cream colored three piece suit. Her tie was the same burnt umber color that Val had seen on the card. It, along with the peach colored lipstick, made her blue eyes that much more vivid. She had a slender face with sharp cheekbones that made her look somewhat like a fox or a coyote. An unassuming, but lethal predator.

Gallia smiled, baring teeth. It sent a tingle racing down Val’s spine. “You shouldn’t tempt a girl like that, Valerien. She might just ignore you.”

Val hated this plan. It wasn’t even a plan, really. Just a thin hope that one of the most perfidious demons he’d ever had to tangle with wouldn’t take advantage of his situation. To anyone else, likely to most the denizens of this building, Gallia Sabor was just your average high-powered attorney. Val knew better.

Legalla, High Devil Praetor of the Bounded Word had many different names. Gallia Sabor was just the latest in a long line. Few demons lived as long as she did. Valerien had tangled with her before. He’d been so young, then: only just past 200 when he’d gotten caught up in her web of words and barely escaped with his sanity. They’d not seen each other in the centuries that followed. Others of his rank and station had gone against her in the time since. None had been able to tell the tale - traumatized and bound in infernal contracts which stilled their tongues. Val needed to choose his next words carefully. He’d mulled what he could and couldn’t reveal on the way over. All he needed to do what come up with the right combination of—

“Go on, speak to the nice lady,” Erien said, materializing next to him.

Val sighed and then leaned forward. “I have need of your expertise.”

“Good start!” Erien whispered, patting his shoulder.

Val felt her touch. It felt…realer than before. Back when they’d held hands, she’d felt like warm static ghosting across his skin. Now she felt real. Solid. The touch was a distraction that he lingered on for a moment too long. Erien gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“I think you should say more words now,” Erien’s voice was quiet and jokingly conspiratorial.

Legalla reached upward and pinched the bridge of her nose, scowling. “Valerien, I’m growing bored of this…Abbott and Costello routine.”

“Abbott and Costello? What is she, stuck in the fifti—“ Erien began.

“That’s enough.” Legalla’s voice was flinty. Her eyes flicked to regard something over Val’s shoulder. “Sit. Down.”

Only then did both Val and Erien take her meaning.

“I think she can see me…” Erien whispered, agog, the conspiratorial tone more serious.

“You think I’d have conference rooms where any non-corporeal being could simply listen in, unobserved?” Legalla mused before she continued: “Valerien, tell your assistant to stop being such a distraction.”

“It’s, uh…it’s just Val, right now.”

Legalla’s eyes flicked over Val’s body. “That makes more sense, too.”

Val’s brow knit together, trying to understand what Legalla meant. Then he caught sight of a glint of purple. One of his nails. The real nails, courtesy of the corrupting effects of Dani’s touch. Val’s mind drifted to the other night, when all pretense had dropped away. It’d been so easy, then to admit to things. To admit Val was a…

“Pronouns?”

“He/him,” Val said, voice shrill and snapping.

“Iiiii think she was asking me,” Erien said. “She/her or they/them. I’m Erien.” As Val tried to recover from the blush that spread through his cheeks, Erien swayed over to a seat and plopped into it.

“I’m Val’s worse half.”

“Fascinating,” Legalla said. And Val noticed that she’d actually meant it. “How did this happen?”

“Oh, y’know…boy rooms with other boy to guard other boy’s eternal soul from nebulously defined ‘corruption’, boy fails spectacularly when other boy gets nebulously ‘corrupted’ into a succubus via a videogame she and the boy played, said nebulously ‘corrupted’ succubus girl then tries to nebulously ‘corrupt’ the boy because said boy also played the same game, resulting in the bifurcation of the now nebulously ‘corrupted’ boy’s soul.” Erien turned to Val as she finished. “Miss anything?”

Val’s head had found a home in his palms, barely propped up. He’d had a plan. He’d rehearsed it, too. So much for that. He sighed, managing a weak, defeated wave of his hand.

Legalla leaned in toward Erien. “So, he - and I’m presuming you - are bound by a soul contract…delivered by mundane means to a computer game?”

“No, nothing like that. The soul contract’s from the buttplug. The indoctrination’s from the game.”

“Buttplug?”

“I mean, the packaging called it a ‘Hellshard’, but I’m pretty sure that’s just branding.”

A lethal, predatory smile teased at the corners of Legalla’s mouth.

“You mean to tell me that Valerien the Benevolent, chaste servant of the Divine…”

“Has a buttplug. In his ass. That he refuses to remove!”

Legalla stared for a moment longer and then snorted. Her hand flew to cover her face, but she couldn’t stop the laughter that escaped her lips. Val’s cheeks burned with shame.

“I’m sealing it within myself! It is a dangerous artifact! It must be-!” His attestations of innocence were cut short as the Hellshard pulsed. His hands flew to the desk and he let out a high, whining moan. It was pathetic and feminine and it felt almost as good as when he’d surrendered to Erien.

“-contained,” he squeaked, shaking as he leaked.

“Aaaaaanyway. Fun as that-“ Erien gestured to Val’s shuddering form “-is, it’s got downsides. Bad ones.”

Legalla nodded, adding a small, affirmative hum. “A bifurcated soul is not without risk.” She turned to face Val. “May I see the contract?”

“Yes,” Val said.

Legalla manifested a leather bound book onto the desk with a flourish of orange light. She slid it towards Val. “Place your hand on it.”

Val complied. The moment his hand touched the surface, he could feel the infernal energy radiating off of it. Worse still was that he felt it seize on the demonic corruption within him. It coaxed at it, willing its secrets to be told.

“You’re fighting it,” Legalla said.

“N-no, I’m just-“

“Submit like a good girl.” The vehemency of the words stole Val’s breath. In that exhalation, she let go. Just for a moment, she let herself accept things. So what if she was being a good girl? She could always go back. This was to save herself and to save Dani. Yes, she could be a good girl and submit to this.

Val shuddered as the infernal energy poked and prodded at the contract surrounding her soul. Part of her wanted to experience it and understand it. If she closed her eyes and just thought about it, the strange, new sensations would attenuate as she retreated within her soul sanctum. She could relish them, if she’d wanted to. But she didn’t.

And then he breathed in as the energy faded. The book beneath his hand felt warm to the touch. He withdrew it. “There. Was that good?”

“Very good.” Legalla gave a flick of her wrist and the book glided along the table before floating upwards.

“So obedient,” she praised. Val’s face twitched as he fought a smile.

The book opened of its own accord. Legalla flicked a long finger again and again as the pages fluttered past. The movement drew Val’s attention. What could Legalla do to him with that hand if only he’d ask? As he had the thought, he felt Erien’s gaze land on him. He looked and noticed something querulous and incredulous in her stare.

Before he could attempt to decipher the meaning, though, Legalla spoke again. “Well, this is indeed my work. Or, a stolen version of it.”

Val must’ve looked stricken, because Legalla waved a hand in a dismissive gesture. “You can relax. Much as I’d enjoy tangling you up in one of my contracts, I’m not going to.”

“What?” Val narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“Because I can’t,” Legalla said flatly. Val narrowed his eyes further. Legalla rolled hers. He narrowed them further still. Legalla kept her face neutral for a moment longer, and then she relented. “Okay, fine. Whatever’s going on with you and your…companion…” Her tone was teasing, but Legalla paused for a moment - like she was waiting for Val to clarify something. When Val didn’t, he noticed the smallest flicker of something cross her face. Then she let out an exaggerated “hmpf” and continued. “The problem is Article 263.1.f. It’s a non-compete. ‘The Granting Party hereafter consigns their soul and any and all sexual services, both those enumerated in Exhibit C and otherwise hereafter discovered or invented, to the Accessing Party. The Granting Party will indemnify the Accessing Party against any tortious sexual interference from outside parties.’”

Val’s eyes glazed over as Legalla spoke. It was one of the ways she ensnared her victims, after all. Even spoken, her legalese could trip someone up and get their head caught on clauses and subsections. Legalla noticed. She picked up the reference volume before dropping it to the table.

Val took in a shocked breath through his nose. “Sorry, can you—“

“Long story short? She’s locked anyone but her out from…enjoying you.”

“What am I supposed to do about it?”

“Valeri— Val. Do you really want to?”

“I’m still bound by my oath. I swore it to protect someone.”

“Ah. Well…you’re in luck. WC&S has been having a stellar year. Billables like you wouldn’t believe, which means I can take on a pro-bono case like yours.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Demons don’t offer things without strings. Neither do accomplished, driven lawyers.”

“You’ve offered me one of the most engaging, intricately written infernal contracts I’ve ever seen, along with the knowledge that she’s managed to crack indoctrination through a video game. Can’t I just be in this for the love of the thing?”

“What’s your price?”

“I will ask you one question a day until I solve this. You will be able respond only with True Speech.” Invoking True Speech felt redundant. After all, an Angel couldn’t contradict their oath. It was their nature.

“It’s a deal,” Erien said, reaching out her hand. Legalla shot her a glare, but there was no heat behind it. Erien grinned, raising her hands up in retreat. “Had to try.” Legalla’s eyes narrowed just a little as her eyebrow lifted slightly, then she turned back to Val.

Val let out a huff and held out his hand. Legalla’s hand glowed with the same burnt umber cast that Val had seen so many years ago. This would be different. He would stay in control. All he had to do was simply say the truth. As Legalla’s hand clasped his, he reckoned with the truth of it: she could make him say anything. Truly anything. Legalla could make him give up secrets about the Heavens’ defenses, about the location of the Gates. About the vulnerabilities of what lay at the core of the Great City of Lights.

He moved to withdraw his hand, but found that he couldn’t. It was bound by a strand of burnt umber energy. The same type of incantation as he’d used on Dani not long ago.

“Cold feet, Val?” Legalla asked. Delight shone in her eyes. He’d seen this look once before, just like when she’d forced Val into that first contract. Yes, he’d signed it and agreed to it, but she hadn’t played fair! There were souls at stake. And that contract...it made him question things about himself. Things he’d had to sequester and leave unacknowledged until they’d twisted into a demonic visage that shared his mind and soul.

Maybe it was for the best, then, if Legalla asked about defenses and battle strategies. It would distract from the things he truly wanted to remain hidden. We both know how much you don't wanna admit you liked it last time.

With a snapping hum, the tether ceased to be. It’s job was done, after all.

“So, let’s test this, shall we?” Legalla’s look was predatory. “Dear Val…would you be a kind thing and tell me: what are your pronouns, really?”

Val sneered. What a simple question. “She/her,” she said, admitted a Truth she could no longer resist.

Her eyes went wide. “She/her!” She repeated. “I meant to say that my pronouns are she/her!”

“Finally some truth!” Erien said. Then she leaned toward Legalla. “Hey, I dunno if anyone’s told you, but you’re like…really good at your job.”

“I know,” Legalla said, not breaking her gaze on Val.

“Y-you…” Val stammered, her skin flushing with embarrassment and anger.

“Tricked you?”

“Yes!”

Legalla drew back. She was triumphant, not bothering to school her features one bit. “Tell me how. All I did was ask you to say a Truth.”

Val sneered. “That’s easy! You…you, uh…” But even as Val attempted to think of how Legalla could’ve turned the situation to her advantage, she couldn’t find anything wrong. The statement was unimpeachable. Legalla had just asked Val to say something True. And Angels only spoke Truths. The implications of this meant one of two things to Val and she wasn’t sure which was worse: that the Hellshard had rewritten some fundamental Truth of her being; or, that she wasn’t an Angel anymore and had been lying about her nature to herself.

There was a noise, then, from outside the conference room. It sounded as though there was a scuffle. “I know he’s in there,” came a muffled voice.

“Oh, Heavens,” Val groaned. The door to the room banged open. For a moment, Val tensed, waiting to hear the sound of the door glass shattering. Kira and Legalla had that effect on each other.

“What’re you doing with him?” Kira hadn’t even waited until she was a single step within the room before she started in. Her angry countenance softened to one of concern as she regarded Val. “Has she hurt you?”

“I’ve not hurt any—“

“We both know that’s not true,” Kira held up a finger to silence, her tone lethal as she continued to regard Val.

“What the Hells is going on, Valerien? You’re here with this liar after everything she’s done?”

“I…” Val trailed off. What could she possibly say?

“Val here’s been exploring!” Erien offered. “She’s been doing such a good job!”

Kira pointed to Erien. “Who is she? Why does she look like a porn parody of you?”

“Aww.” Erien seemed invigorated by this, as though Kira had praised her.

“Valerien. What’s going on?”

Val pulled in a fortifying breath. This wouldn’t be easy to say, but she’d say it anyway.

“I’m…going by Val. And this is Erien. She’s, uh…it’s hard to explain.”

Erien shrugged. “I’m really not. Boy rooms with other boy to guard other boy’s eternal soul from nebulously defined ‘corruption’—“

“Maybe we can talk somewhere else…?” Val said, feeling suddenly vulnerable.

Kira nodded, then slid her gaze to Legalla. “We’re leaving. Don’t follow us.”

“Always a pleasure to see you too, Kiraelle,” Legalla said. The words held a sarcastic inflection, but the chastened and wounded feelings underneath it were all too noticeable.

Without another word, Kira left the room. Val lingered for a moment, and then followed.

“…sulting in the bifurcation of the now nebulously ‘corrupted’ boy’s - er, uh…girl’s - soul. Now said girl has a contract with Legalla to help figure this out in exchange for one question answered in True Speech every day.” Erien said. “Oh! And I’m corporeal now. That one’s new. Also, this seatbelt’s uncomfy.”

Kira pressed her foot down on the accelerator of her mid-2010s sedan, thundering down the Dan Ryan Expressway. Erien leaned forward. “Is she mad? She seems real mad at you.”

Val knew she was. Kira didn’t normally get mad, but if anyone could do it? It’d be “Kirael—“

“You went to her. You went to her first!” Kira said, eyes on the road as she cut across lanes of traffic at speed. “After everything she did to me! After the lies, the manipulation…and all because I tried to save you!”

“I think she’s mad,” Erien added unhelpfully.

“And you.” Kira’s eyes pinned Erien to the spot, even through the rearview mirror. “I don’t care whether you’re part of Val or not. Show him some respect!”

“H-her.” The word was small as it left Val’s lips, but it seemed to expand in dramatic fashion to fill the space of the vehicle’s interior.

Kira jerked the wheel to the right and took the exit onto Ruble Street, still going far too fast. She slammed on the brakes, sending the sedan careening into a jolting stop at the light.

“Fuck,” Kira said. “This is all just so…”

“Fucked?” Erien supplied.

“Yeah. I’m sorry, by the way. I just…Legalla and I have- there’s just- it’s a lot.” Kira closed her eyes. “I’m just hurt that you felt I wouldn’t understand.”

Val took Kira’s hand. “It’s not that I didn’t think you wouldn’t understand, it’s that-”

Val felt the twinge of her Working being destroyed, even miles away. Then she felt another of her Workings come to life.

“Kira, where is Dani right now?” Val was pretty sure she knew even as she prayed she was wrong.

“At the office.”

“…Fuck.”