Chapter Eight

Aeron winced as he stepped into Satan's palace. A wave of ice-cold air rushed over him like a landslide, giving the entire complex the feeling of a morgue. "Well… I've seen worse," he thought as he watched some of the ranking officers shuffle into the main hall. 

"I heard that group lost a few men," he overheard a soldier say. 

"They were responsible for raiding that city, right? Nobody there should've been able to make so much as a dent in that regiment." 

"Maybe they overstated their abilities? It wouldn't be the first time that that's happened." 

"I wouldn't be surprised if that was the case," the first Demon chuckled, "They're under Dr. Leeson, after all."

"Looks like even Satan's most stalwart supporters have a few naysayers," he realized as a few new faces inched toward him. "More ambitious soldiers, huh?" Thanks to his position, there was no shortage of fresh-faced devils trying to eat up what little free time he had left.

"Long day, Mr. Weber?" a familiar voice asked.

"You could say that." He pursed his lips as he watched his boss, Satan herself, step out of the shadows.

"How were the Giants?"

"Stubborn and strong, as usual," he sighed. "If you want, I could go into more detail."

"That can wait until after we meet with the other officers. Since we couldn't capture Mapp, we'll have to make a few changes to the plan." 

"Is there another avenue available? Our plan is to invade Heaven, we can't exactly afford to take shortcuts on this."

"That is something we'll determine after I interview the rest of my soldiers. You'd be surprised at how good Demons are at finding leads."

"What? Are they bloodhounds?" he joked as she strolled past him.

"I'll expect you and Dr. Leeson to meet me on the floor in five minutes. Also, stop by the vault and grab some medals."

"Treats for the sniffer dogs, eh?" The second she turned the corner, Aeron sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "Welp… time to get to work."

The laughter of Demon children rang in Aeron's ears like bells as he walked through the city streets. After he met with Satan and the brass, he was granted a brief break to explore the realm-wide festival. "For a boss, she's certainly lax," he thought with a frown. "Ah, whatever, it's not my job to complain." He'd worry about her bizarre personality when the situation called for it. "I guess I'll go get a drink." Over the past few days, he'd been feeling oddly nostalgic for one of Kathy's brews back at the Flying Wing. Before he knew it, his feet had taken him to his usual watering hole: a small place hidden beneath one of the town's popular markets. "You guys open?" he asked as he strolled inside. 

"Same thing as usual, right?" 

"Yeah, but keep it light," he told the barkeep as he pulled up a stool.

"Busy day I take it?"

"You know it." Aeron pursed his lips as he watched a few clumps of dust float down from the ceiling. "Guess I'm not the only one who's got a full schedule. Did you two just get back, Saladin?"

"Oh? You heard we were out, Mr. Weber?" Grandt asked as he swept the floor.

"Just hearsay from some of my coworkers, nothing special."

"Your coworkers? Ah, that's right, you work at the palace, don't you?"

"Indeed."

"So, what do you do? Enlighten us."

"Me? I'm just a guard of sorts."

"Of sorts?" Saladin snorted. "Guess you can't tell us much more than that, huh?"

"You know it." Small talk like this was why he loved coming here. These two knew where to draw the line. 

"Guess we'll stop that conversation there," Saladin said. 

"I appreciate it," Aeron chuckled. As he sipped his drink, he turned around and watched the few passers-by shamble past the shop. Their happy expressions reminded him of Heaven, causing an uncomfortable knot to form in his stomach. "Damn," he thought, "This isn't what I should be focused on right now." In an attempt to distract himself from his own musings, he got up and strolled to the far side of the bar where the expensive liquor was kept. 

"Feeling frugal tonight, eh?"

"Nah, I'm just curious." He'd only been a Demon for a handful of days, all of these brands were new to him. "Oddly similar to the Flying Wing's menu, huh? It's a small universe." 

"The ones on top we got as a gift from your bosses," Grandt chimed in.

"Hmph," Aeron smiled. "Really? Which one?" 

"I think the secretary said it was from Dr. Leeson?"

"No, you fool, it was a gift from the chief guardsman," Saladin snapped. "Keep forgetting others' goodwill and we'll end up with our heads on pikes." 

"That old fool actually parted with some of his stock? You two must be blessed."

"Eh, it just comes with the trade." With that, Aeron quietly returned to his seat. 

"Look alive, Saladin, I think the evening rush is coming in," Grandt groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose. They could all hear the clamor of the crowds growing louder with every passing moment.

"That should be long enough," Aeron thought as he tossed Saladin a small pouch.

"Mr. Weber, you know this is too much."

"Eh, keep the change and hire a cleaner," he said with a cocky grin. By his expression, the pair of barkeeps could tell that he wouldn't back down on this.

"Fine," Saladin sighed, "In that case, we'll put it toward your next visit."

"I'll remember that!" Aeron yelped as he slipped out the entrance.

"Mr. Weber! Don't let working at the palace get you down!" Grandt called out to him with a wave. "I heard that place can be suffocating at times! A good man like you could be buried before you even know it! Be careful!"

"Got it! Thanks for the warning!" With that, Aeron vanished into the dark alleyways, taking care to avoid any prying eyes. "Damn," he thought, "Why'd you have to go and say that?" For some reason, he found himself thinking back to Caius' words. "Shit," he cursed as he trudged along the roadside, "This isn't what I planned for." Following that, he wandered the streets for a handful of minutes, taking in the sights while pondering his comings and goings over the past few days. "You just can't escape fate," he sighed as a small group of guardsmen sauntered by.

"You guys also heading to Saladin and Grandt's place?" one of them asked. "It's a pretty good local bar."

"Those poor fools are going to be packed to the brim," he thought with a chuckle. Since his fall, he thought he was done with those types. "I guess everyone longs for a good conversation like that, no matter who they are." Aeron made a mental note to stop by again during his next break. That dirty old bar felt strangely familiar… almost homely. "I should probably head back." Who knows just how much paperwork was waiting for him? 

Dr. Leeson couldn't help but grumble as he shoved his way through the crowd of officers and secretaries. In his arms, he carried a stack of mysterious artifacts—several of which exuded a wave of intense heat. "I truly hope this is worth it," he thought as he slipped into the shadows. Satan's power did the rest, and soon he was spat out in a familiar hall.

"You're late," she called out to him from her small throne. Surrounding her was a menagerie of the Nine's various leaders and representatives, all of whom looked positively miserable.

"What's with the ghastly mood?" he asked. The air was stifling, almost as if he were standing in the middle of a morgue.

"Oh, I was just going over their soldiers' failings," Satan hummed. Her army had failed to do so much as capture a single Giant, it made sense that her disposition had turned sour.

"You are aware that we have a backup plan, yes?" he told her. However, the demoness ignored him. "Ah, I see." It looked like she was just trying to blow off some steam. "Well, that business aside," Dr. Leeson sighed as he took his seat, "We've got to discuss our next steps."

"The only logical path forward is with a new campaign," one of the advisors said.

"True… without Griswold, our only real path to Heaven's gates lies with the Buried Council."

"If possible, we should try to avoid all-out war. If the Bureau decides to directly intervene, I fear we won't be able to weather the storm."

"You're worried about the judges?" Satan chimed in.

"Obviously. With all due respect, our men aren't ready." The strength of the gavels wasn't something one should underestimate.

"Well, we aren't completely in the dark on how to fight them," Dr. Leeson said with a sigh.

"You're talking about that Angel you picked up, aren't you?" one of the older Demons said. "Are you sure we can trust him? He failed to capture Griswold, didn't he?"

"And in doing so crushed a large swathe of their army," Dr. Leeson shot back. "Yes, his personality leaves much to be desired, but you can't argue with his results." For as much as he hated the man, Dr. Leeson couldn't deny that Weber was an effective weapon. 

"We're going to have to face the Bureau head-on one of these days," Satan thought as she stared at one of the room's many paintings. "Aeron's my best shot at ensuring our victory. However, that won't matter unless we can get close." With that being the case, she had only one option. "I want all of you to send a contingent of your best to Aeron's meeting later today. It's about time we fully integrate his knowledge amongst our leadership."

"Understood!"

"Interesting. Do you want anyone in particular? He spoke quite highly of Pereph in his recent report."

"Just focus on efficiency for now, and make sure they know how to keep their mouths shut." The storm that would follow this gathering would require the utmost secrecy from everyone involved. "To avoid leaks, do your best to keep the number of personnel down to a minimum. Remember, we're going up against the Bureau here. There's a good chance that they've already caught wind of our plan, or, at the very least, are busy trying to predict our next steps." With that, Satan ended the meeting and allowed the leaders to return to their fellows.

"Should I have someone follow them?" Dr. Leeson asked.

"Hah!" she laughed. "My friend, this is why our soldiers have been talking about you. Ever since Aeron joined us you've become so paranoid." 

"I'd rather be paranoid than staring down the barrel of a judge's gavel."

"And I thank you for that persistence. Just make sure it doesn't hamper the plan."

"Don't worry, I'm aware of what's at stake," he grunted. "However, please let me send a few of my men to observe Heire. You and I both know that he's untrustworthy." Heire was the regent of the Seventh Circle. The man was brilliant, but he was perhaps one of the ficklest Demons that either of them had ever met.

"I wouldn't bother. At this stage, it's important that we give our subordinates room to breathe." She couldn't afford to let someone important like Heire get burned out on something as useless as an internal investigation. "Compared to the Bureau's coffers, our time and resources are both dangerously thin." They had the element of surprise, but that was it. 

"Should I begin laying the groundwork for the next operation?" Dr. Leeson asked.

"Please do. I want Demons in the Buried Council's court come morning."

"Your will is my command." The gears of conflict were once again beginning to turn. Without a word, Dr. Leeson headed out into the complex to find Aeron.

"Guess all I can do now is hope and wait," Satan thought with a sigh as she stared at a hanging map of the Nine Circles. "Soon… soon we'll be able to leave this place."