Fenn saw as Buer’s features drew themselves inward in frustration, and then relaxed into an impassive expression. The chimera’s four eyes closed, and Fenn knew their exchange was over.

He followed after the now raven haired demoness through the room’s opposite door in much the same way as he had the through the first. Fenn sidled up to Lily’s side in silence, continuing to lead them through the tunnels. 

An odd pressure seemed to fill the tunnels’ air as they went deeper, something he knew Lily could feel as well. Trailing Gomory’s scent to find their way quickly became a formality, and soon enough, clearly unnecessary. The path before them was a rubble-streaked ruin, with walls riddled with holes, exposing the packed earth behind them, and shattered bricks lying on the ground by the score. The dust had not completely settled, some motes still flittering in the light. Shadows and greenish wisps of light seemed to shiver at the corner of their eyes as they advanced in silence, the one who had come before them having cleared the path of defenders. What little remained of these merely studied their approach.

Lily, all the while, was not in the greatest of moods. More than once she had hit the wall hard enough to crack the stone. It was at a point where they had just passed a comparatively large group of these wisps that she exhaled, closing her eyes. “So, apocalypse,” she began somewhat awkwardly, never looking at Fenn. “What do you intend to do?” 

“You have known me for long enough, Imp.” The answer came readily, mid-stride, as if he had been expecting the question. “I am an old warrior, and Armageddon is to be the greatest war ever to be witnessed. What else would I intend to do but participate?”

“I’ve known you long enough to also know that you continuously seek battles, and that you’re not stupid either. While Armageddon itself may be the greatest war to ever come to pass, it will be the last one.” She gave him a solemn look. “You do realize that if you even survive, the rest of your life will be spent in a wasteland with nothing but yourself for company.” 

The dog paused in his march, turning to face her. This needed to be addressed then, he understood, and not another step would be taken until it was settled. “You seem to believe that more than Earth shall be lost to this war, as it must, for it is the chosen battlefield. Yet even if all that remained were ashes and dust and scattered survivors, I do not doubt,” he told her, “that conflict would arise among them as readily as were it a living world. And even were it not so, the perpetuation of violence is not what draws me to this.”

Lily stopped as well, facing him. “Be that as it may,” she replied, clasping her hands together behind her back, “I will admit to not wishing the apocalypse.” She gave him a wry smile at this. “Strange, isn’t it? An age old demoness who does not wish for the apocalypse to happen? But it’s not that I’ve become soft. Quite the opposite. You know me better than any other being in this world, so tell me, what is it I do?” 

Fenn grunted, irritated. The humans. She wanted them alive. “Your fascination with these vermin baffles me.”

She met his irritated grunt with a strangely jovial smile. She wasn’t annoyed or angry anymore, at least. “You’d be surprised by what they can do. They are so small compared to us, but they still persevere, and they are so diverse, too. They can be as cruel as even Hell’s own inquisitors, or as benevolent as the kindest angel. To spark conflict, create bonds, sow seeds of dissent, and even watch as they huddle together to face an unknown threat. They’re… so unlike us, and yet so similar in many ways. How can I not be interested?” She giggled—an act so very unlike her, yet still strangely fitting.

“You would oppose Armageddon.” Fenn said. A statement, rather than a question.

“Yes. Things would be rather dull without humanity.”

“What baffles more, is that our paths could be so similar, yet our reasoning so different.”

Fenn closed his eyes. There, he saw a hint of a darkness once visited upon him. For a long time there was little but darkness and chains, punctuated only by blood and pain, though the latter was rarely just his. Moments of release. But when light truly returned and the bonds were loosened, the blood was ancient beyond imagining, and like a blind man who saw for the first time he stumbled back, confused by most of what he saw and finding little beauty in what he understood. But the dog was hardly blind, and some kind of comprehension had to follow. There was a way to things, he believed. To everything.

“If you must, then there are only two ways this can be settled,” he intoned. “We could face each other, here and now. Whoever lives after this encounter shall be in the right, and may pursue their goal. Or…”

Lily blinked, her eyes turning a deep violet. Her smile, too, became somewhat conspiratorial. “I could give you a proposition, that you may fight for me.”

“Has the scholar’s rejection burned you so deeply that you would seek to wrest a vow from me now?” The demon sneered, but there was little humor to be found in his eyes. “Aye, but it is not enough that a battle may be promised.” Fenn shook his head slowly. “I am old for my kind, Imp. There are few survivors from the chaos we are drawn to. The apocalypse will come. Do not doubt this, as the seals need only be broken once. But I do not believe I will survive to see it come to fruition if it does not come to pass here and now. It is no longer enough that you gift me your enemies, for by following you, I will have been robbed of mine.”

“If my enemies will not satisfy you, then how about something never before given? Something that no other living creature can boast to have?” Like Fenn, Lily’s tone was grave, though still with hints of her jovial personality. She shook her head. “I have no intentions of wrestling a vow from you. Rather, I would give one myself. I have lived my millennia long life independent of any faction, of any group, but none can boast to have a debt lying with me. [i]That[/i] is what I offer you, Chained Hound. That I will be in your debt, so long as you agree to be by my side in this endeavor.” 

The demoness spoke true. Nothing else she could offer would have swayed him, and, he suspected, she had little else to offer. There was a way to things. To them as well. He would not have spoken so before her had he not had a measure of trust in her. Neither would he have closed his eyes, left himself open for her. No hidden blades for them. Between them, the sword would be in plain sight.

“So it shall be. May your worth be judged by the might of your foes, and the truth of your words. Know this, however. Should I ever call upon this debt and be refused, I will not hesitate to settle it with blood.”

Judging by the lack of visible change in her expression or posture, the threat did not faze her. “I have never lied to you. To do so now would be to invite misfortune.”

“Good.” Fenn nodded, steeling himself for what was to come. There was something weary in his tone, as if the conversation had tired him. The dog knew very well that it was not exhaustion, but resignation that filled him. “Then I suggest we move. We have wasted enough time on this debate.”

The matter settled, the pair continued moving along the tunnels, following the path of destruction that hell’s recruiter had left in her wake. 

It turned out their debate was not taking place too far from the entrance to the large cavern were even then the players were gathering. Fenn grimaced, letting his flames become extinguished as he glanced into the cavern. There was enough light being emitted from the platform suspended at the center of the cavern, both the source of the odd pressure he had been feeling since leaving Buer’s room, and likely the repository of the second seal. He saw the demoness in pink standing on the platform, as well as several humans beginning their approach.

“What would you have us do?” He asked the Imp – thinking of her as anything resembling a commander was proving difficult – as he studied the spectacle. 

“For now,” she said, eyes flicking rapidly back and forth, “nothing. I still do not entirely trust Buer’s words, and I would rather not make myself a target by all the Hunters.” While she seemed relaxed, it did not take a genius to notice that her posture was not one of someone simply watching, but someone preparing. She looked ready to act at any second. 

A shout suddenly echoed throughout the massive chamber, her head snapping towards it, eyes immediately narrowed and body tense. All of that evaporated quickly, however, a look of mortification replacing it. “Oh for the love of…” An old human had, for whatever incredulous reason, decided to shout and insult Gomory, and as if that wasn’t enough a Cyborg, by the looks of it, was charging her at the same time, evidently hoping that the shout had distracted her. “Idiots,” she muttered, drawing a hand across her face. “And here I thought only mindless beasts were stupid enough to run to their death like that.” 

“Save the judgement for later,” Fenn grumbled. “If the humans are here to prevent the apocalypse, they have jumped to the same conclusion we had. Observe. If you wish to protect the seals, we must ascertain who wishes to destroy them first.”

“I agree. Let us not be hasty. Gomory is powerful, that much I can sense just from looking at her. A few humans should be no match for her.” She pursed her lips, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. “So now… we wait.”