Chapter Forty-Three

Like the belly of some ancient horror, Tartarus creaked and rumbled. The frequent temperature changes had become even more common, now fluctuating from extreme to extreme with every couple of seconds. While he and Satan rushed through the winding rows of cells, an unfamiliar feeling of dread washed over him. "This place… something's wrong," he thought as he turned to the Demoness—who he knew was thinking the same thing. Neither of them uttered a word as they descended into the deepest depths of Tartarus, journeying in silence until they finally arrived at Poseidon's cell door.

"Hmm," he heard Satan grimace as she stared at the chamber's entrance—which was now hanging open. "Damn, as much as it pains me to admit it, Mr. Weber, I think you might be right," she conceded as she peeked inside, finding nothing but empty space and shattered bindings. "Shit!" she cried as she slammed her fist into one of the nearby walls, creating a small crater in the stone. "How the hell did that bastard escape?! Those chains are supposed to be unbreakable!" Immediately after those words left her lips, the two of them heard a strange buzzing sound coming from above.

"That's… but no… it couldn't be," Aeron pondered as he stared at the ceiling. It was strange for him to say, but he recognized that sound. "That's my tunneller," he whispered as he watched the insect float down from the rafters—its wings slightly singed by the heat. In its jaws were the molten remains of twisted metal, no doubt torn from Poseidon's chains. "That explains how he got out." The fangs of a tunneller beetle were not to be underestimated.

"I'll need to tell Dr. Leeson to add an insect-repelling blessing to these cells," Aeron heard Satan mutter. "Still, this doesn't explain how he managed to flee Tartarus." Hell was the Universe's prison, after all. Even for a powerful Angel, it would take quite a bit of time to escape. On foot, it took Zia years to finally break free. And while Angels had wings, they'd still be susceptible to Demon attacks and the realm's searing hot winds.

"It'd be impossible for Poseidon to fly out of here unnoticed," Aeron added. "He had to have gotten help from someone." It was the only logical explanation. Without such aid, the false deity would've been caught the second he stepped out the door. "Do you think one of your Demons could've assisted him?" he asked Satan, who shook her head.

"No, the devils may be dishonest, but they're loyal to a fault. None of them would dare betray me," she responded, her stoic tone leaving no room for argument. "Plus, even if that were the case, their powers alone wouldn't be enough. That man was malnourished and burnt to the point of immobility. It would've taken him weeks to regain his strength." Aeron frowned. It was apparent that she was utterly stumped.

"He couldn't have just waltzed onto Earth from here," he commented. "Someone had to have known that he was leaving Tartarus." Escaping the deepest corner of Hell wasn't something one could do without telling anyone. "Is there an associate he might've informed or notified about his breakout? Someone who could've gotten him out of Tartarus?" His question lingered awkwardly in the air as Satan headed out into the main hallway. The tunneller beetle—who sensed the metal hiding in the Demoness' earrings—flew down to take a bite. However, before it could get close, the Devil snapped her fingers, causing the insect to burst into a brilliant rainbow of frigid flames. Moments later, the beetle's frozen corpse fell to the ground, its torso shattering like glass upon landing.

"Follow me, Angel," Satan commanded as she wrapped her hand around the cell's door frame—which cracked as if it were dry clay. The terrifying presence she exuded made him shake. There was anger shrouding her being that seemed to make even the air itself recoil back in fear. Maybe it was because he was now a fallen Angel, but he just couldn't bring himself to say a word to her. All he could do was follow the Demoness' lead.

"Where are we going?" he asked once she'd calmed down to a bearable level. After they left Poseidon's cell, he followed her even deeper into Tartarus. Yet again, an uncomfortable silence washed over them, almost as if the realm itself was holding its breath.

"Mr. Weber, do you remember what I said about the other eleven Olympians when I first took you here?" Satan asked as she subtly lifted her right hand into the air, suddenly summoning a door in front of her. After thinking for a moment or two, Aeron looked up and nodded. As he did, the Devil opened the path and stepped through it.

"Yeah, something about them being sealed in an area only Yahweh could access?" he answered as they arrived in the Demoness' office. Not wasting a moment, Hell's ruler practically jogged over to her desk and collapsed into her chair. On the outside, she didn't dare show it, but this entire situation had been a massive drain on her stamina. While she sat there taking a breather, Aeron meandered to the other end of the desk and leaned against it.

"Yes—that's exactly right—I'm glad you remembered," she told him as she reached into one of her drawers and pulled out a familiar case. "Because of that little detail, we can't just interrogate them on what Poseidon's goals or possible locations might be. Instead, we'll have to do this the hard way." With that, Satan brushed some stray dust off the box and placed it on top of her lap—Aeron recognized it instantly.

"What does she need Pandora's Box for?" he pondered as the Demoness entered the complex combination and opened the vessel's lid. "Is she getting the contract I brought her? No… there's no reason for her to do that." Based on what he'd seen, Pandora's Box could hold a multitude of items of all various shapes and sizes. She could've put anything inside, and he would be none the wiser. In the blink of an eye, Satan lifted a large, pronged spear out of the container and placed it on her desk. "That's the Impossible Trident!" he started as his jaw dropped to the floor. The weapon he was looking at was Satan's infamous tuning fork, a tool so famous that there wasn't a Cherub alive that didn't know its name. It was the artifact that gave the Demoness power over her realm and was crafted by Yahweh himself.

"Surprised? I bet you didn't know that I kept this in here," she spoke as she picked the spear up and lazily slung it over her shoulder—its center prong phasing unrealistically out of existence like shimmering water. "I've got a feeling that I'm going to need this." Right after those words left her lips, Aeron heard the office's front door fly open. "Ah, Dr. Leeson, you've finally arrived." As she spoke, the Demon stumbled up to his boss and dropped a large stack of files onto her workspace.

"Lady Satan, I've sent out the search parties you've requested, but so far, we've found nothing." That wasn't surprising. At this point, Poseidon was almost definitely on Earth. While the devil droned on with his report, Aeron sighed and rested one of his hands on the hilt of his sword. For some reason, simply touching it made his chest throb. "Anyways," Dr. Leeson continued as he stared at Satan's unholy scepter. "With the way things stand, it's clear that we'll have to follow that forsaken Angel into whatever realm he fled to. Sadly—for us—that'll be difficult." Before continuing with his report, Dr. Leeson turned to Aeron and looked him dead in the eye. "As I'm sure you already know, Mr. Weber, Lady Satan and her soldiers can't enter the mortal realm. Unless, of course, we want to start a war."

"If that's the situation, why not notify Heaven or the Bureau? Someone has to pick up the phone." Contacting the Minister and requesting backup was one of the reasons he was here, after all. However, upon hearing his suggestion, Satan scoffed.

"Do you honestly think that we have the time for all that bureaucratic nonsense?" she said as she rolled her fingers against the desktop. "By the time our message reached the Bureau, it would already be too late for your friends and the mortal realm. Poseidon's a powerful adversary, one that controls Earth's oceans—he can lay waste to everything we worked for with a flick of his wrist. To ensure that doesn't happen, we need to make sure that we capture him as soon as possible."

"That sounds like an excuse," Aeron mused as he plucked his transmitter from his ear. Just like before, the device refused to function. As much as it pained him to admit it, getting Heaven's help was off the table.

"You sure have some atrocious luck to land yourself in this mess," Satan added as she flipped through some of the files that Dr. Leeson brought. "Hmm… I can't believe nobody saw him leave. This is troubling." Once all of this was over, she'd have to sift through her realm's security with a fine-tooth comb. After that, the Devil pinched the bridge of her nose and strolled over to her office's exit.

"Where are you going?" Aeron asked as he got up from his seat—his hand still wrapped around his sword's pommel.

"You have to get back to Earth somehow, and, as far as I know, there is only one way to do that from here. So, just shut up and follow me; I'm taking you to Hell's backdoor." Even in this horrid situation, Aeron detected a slight hint of playfulness in the Demoness' tone that unnerved him to no end. Yet, somehow—even though his instincts told him that she was a threat—he just couldn't bring himself to back away. Like Satan, he, too, was made up of a pile of contradictions. In some strange way, Aeron felt that, if he followed her, he'd find a cure to this odd… sense of stagnation that afflicted him. "Are you coming, Mr. Weber?" the Cherub heard Satan call out from the exit. Without a word, he nodded and followed the Devil back out into the hallway. As the two of them walked, he found his gaze drawn to the Impossible Trident slung over Satan's right shoulder. Yet again, his vision was filled with the mystical weapon—its mere presence making his heartbeat quicken.

"I wonder," he thought, "what can that thing actually do?" He wouldn't lie, the idea of witnessing Satan's full power intrigued him. That said, he severely doubted that he'd ever get the chance to behold such a sight. "She's bound to Hell, after all," he sighed.

"Hmph… he looks like a wild beast eagerly awaiting his next hunt," Satan thought as a large grin crawled upon her lips. "Don't worry, Mr. Weber, you'll get your prey soon." All he needed was a little patience.

The second Aeron stepped out of the portal, he instantly realized that he was not in a usual place. Unlike the rest of Hell—where the normal temperatures could sear flesh and char bone—he could feel a pleasant, cool breeze wafting against his face, along with the unmistakable sensation of grass underneath his feet. With every step, faint droplets of dew flew up into the air and splashed across his skin, making it seem as if he were prancing through a quaint meadow in the middle of spring. "Hmm… there's nobody here. I guess the swarms are doing better than expected," he heard Satan say as she and Dr. Leeson joined him. The grass, almost as if it could sense the Demons' unholy auras, seemed to wilt and die with their presence. By the time his eyes adjusted to the light, a large circle of dead greenery surrounded the pair of devils.

"So, this is Hell's one and only exit?" Aeron pondered as he surveyed the area, his eyes practically bulging out of their sockets. "Wow… this place is pretty." Even though he lived in Heaven, nothing he saw up there came close to this wondrous landscape. Gigantic trees, whose trunks appeared to be made of rubies, were scattered all over the field. The green planes of grass covered the surroundings in a breathtaking batch of rolling hills. And, if that wasn't enough, flowers of all shapes and sizes grew from every available space—some having delicious fruits hanging off their leaves. However, even with all of this, what drew Aeron's attention the most was the gigantic shimmering waterfall which completely encapsulated this amazing scene. The far northern section of the rapids seemed to exude a strange golden aura, which appeared to be the source of the ample amounts of light. "I wonder what went through Zia's mind when she first saw this?" The ambassador escaped Hell once upon a time; her travels must've eventually brought her here.

"What you are staring at now, Mr. Weber, is Hell's forbidden garden," Satan explained as she hiked further into the crystalline forest. From this position, she could see the entirety of the small island on which they stood. "This area is the final piece of Hell that damned souls see before their ascensions. No Demons live here, and all the fruit is edible. Think of it as their goodbye present. A final pitstop on the way to paradise."

"And here I thought this place would be crawling with guards," he mumbled as he leaned over and broke off a piece of one of the trees' trunks. "Interesting… it tastes like rock candy," he commented as he tossed the shard into his mouth and looked up at the bordering cliffs. "Ah," he thought, "there they are." It was hard to see from this distance, but flying just outside the garden's perimeter was a gigantic swarm of huge insectile Demons. The way they hovered just above the waterfalls reminded him of bears hunting for fish. These monsters were no doubt responsible for protecting this oasis. However, if their erratic flight patterns were anything to go by, it looked as if they couldn't physically enter the space.

"Those Demons are my last line of defense between the damned and freedom. Be careful, the moment any living creature—besides myself, of course—steps out of these borders, they'll immediately descend and tear them to pieces."

"Well, I don't plan on doing that," the Cherub scoffed as he turned towards the humongous golden waterfall. A wide marble path seemed to protrude out of the shimmering liquid, spiraling downwards over the small lake which surrounded the island before finally reaching land. "So, I'm assuming that's it?" Satan nodded.

"Yes, that wall of water you're staring at is this realm's only conventional exit. If a soul walks through it, they'll immediately be sent to Heaven's Pearly Gates. Of course, since you're now technically a fallen Angel, the most it can do is send you back to Earth. But, for what we have planned, that should be more than enough," the Demoness continued as she led him up the marble steps. "When you wake, I recommend that you take a moment to clear your head. The transporting process has a habit of making people feel a bit… hazy."

"Got it. Is there anything else I need to know before I take the plunge?" he asked as he turned to her and Dr. Leeson, which shocked the large Demon. In this situation, they both expected the Templar to just haphazardly leap into the gate. Instead, he was treating this with an abnormal level of caution.

"He must really care about Lombardi and her two servants," Satan thought with a grin. She wouldn't deny it, the care which Aeron showed for that trio unnerved her, but—in the end—it wasn't that surprising. "Those three are some of the few that you actually enjoyed spending time with, after all." In a way, she found the situation almost cute. For the first time since meeting him, Aeron Weber was finally showing a little bit of Angelic care—and he wasn't even an Angel anymore! "Speaking of which, I'm shocked at how well he's taking that." Being damned wasn't a walk in the park, and for Angels, it was even worse. The strain that falling put on a Cherub's mind was—in most cases—unbearable. Honestly, she didn't know how he managed to keep his cool. That said, she was certain that it wouldn't last. "He's probably too focused on saving Lombardi and capturing Poseidon to properly come to terms with his situation. If I leave him alone, he'll likely break," she mused with a smirk. In the end, his state of mind wasn't her problem. Sure, she wanted him for her own reasons, but she knew that something like this wouldn't be enough to shake him. Aeron Weber simply wasn't that sort of person. He'd get knocked down and then get right back up. That's just how he was.

"Make sure you survey your surroundings upon your arrival! Poseidon must've screwed up and left a clue somewhere," Dr. Leeson suggested as Aeron stepped into the golden waterfall. Just before he submerged his first leg within the waves, he got out and turned to Satan.

"Tell me, this sword you gave me, you're sure it'll hurt him, right?" To take a target like this down, he'd need to go at Poseidon with everything he had. Of course, such drive would be useless if the fallen Angel could just power through his attacks. If he wanted to win, his weapon would have to be able to cut deep.

"I'll put it like this: that sword may not be a gavel, but it can kill like one. Trust me, if you can get a few swings in, I'm certain that you'll come out victorious. Just don't be stupid," she responded as she reached over and lightly touched the hilt of the unholy blade, causing a dark red haze to wash over its scabbard. "This sword was designed for fighting Angels. If you know how to use it, nothing can stand in your way. Now, get going." They were wasting time that they didn't have, and nobody knew this better than Aeron himself.

"Thanks, I'll be sure to drag Poseidon and his armies back here," he spoke in an oddly gleeful tone as he completely submerged himself into the shining stream. Soon, Satan felt his presence disappear and sighed.

"Do you think you made the right call in trusting him, Lady Satan? That man might be your kin, but he's dangerous," Dr. Leeson said as he stared intently into the wall of water. Instead of answering him, the Devil just stretched out her hand and lightly pressed her index finger into the gilded portal. Instantly, she felt her flesh sizzle and burn.

"Tch… that hurts," she cursed as she rubbed her steaming skin. "The only thing standing between us and leaving this horrid prison is this wall. God, what I wouldn't give to just tear this thing down." She wouldn't lie, when she saw how easily Aeron was able to pass through the gateway, a sudden burst of uncontrollable jealousy shot through her.

"Are you growing impatient, my lady?"

"No, I'm just remembering what's at stake," she muttered as she turned to her aide while playfully swinging her scepter through the air. Soon, her endless amounts of planning and effort would pay off. "Tell me, did you manage to locate the objective?"

"Yes, a team is currently in the process of transporting it here. However, since they're using untested curses to teleport the objective from Earth, they've requested your aid."

"Hmph," Satan mulled as she stared at her spear, "I thought as much," she mumbled. "With the Impossible Trident's help, it'll only be a matter of time." With that, the Devil took one last look at the golden waterfall before backing away. "C'mon," she told Dr. Leeson, "I want to get this done before Mr. Weber returns. The objective will be his welcoming gift."

"Ma'am, with all due respect, are you certain that he'll join us? I, and quite a few others, still have our doubts about him."

"You need not worry. Once all of this blows over, I'm certain that Aeron will have proved himself to you," she chortled. Yet again, Dr. Leeson rolled his eyes.

"How can you be so sure? I mean, yeah, he's a unique individual amongst the Cherubs, but he doesn't strike me as the sort of person who'd betray the Bureau." Like before, his words flew right over his boss' head.

"He's more than just a special Angel," she said. "Aeron Weber and I are birds of a feather." When she saw that Dr. Leeson was still confused, she sighed and looked up at the red skies above—it appeared that she'd have to be a bit more specific. "To put it in layman's terms, he has a trait about him that I shared at his age. One that makes him an outcast in Heaven."

"And that is?" Dr. Leeson asked as they walked through a portal back into Satan's office. Immediately after arriving, Satan turned around and showed him a horrific, demented smile that would haunt the man for the rest of his days.

"He's bored, and for Angels, that's a greater offense than any sin," she hissed, her eyes lighting up like two blazing stars. Centuries ago, that was the very same quirk that started her down her own descent into damnation—and she was determined to repeat that cycle. "After all," she thought as she scraped her tool against the featureless void, "even Demons get lonely."

From the desk of Zia Lombardi...

Sometimes I can't help but wonder what I'm doing up here, stuck pushing paperwork in this little office in the clouds. I certainly couldn't imagine myself doing this when I was still mortal. And yet… now… this place has become like a home to me. An exceedingly stressful one, at that. It feels like there's always another problem to solve or another issue that requires my attention. The stress is crushing on most days, but it's also relaxing. Even though I know this place is far from the best Heaven has to offer, when I consider the fact that—at any time—I can look out my window and stare at the sky, it all becomes worth it.