Darken held Phoenix in his arms on the bow of the ship. They had said their goodbyes to everyone, and now all that truly remained was the waiting until high sun, when it would be time to begin their journey.

Only a couple of hours now, Darken thought. And I only want to spend them with you, beloved Romanova. He rested his head on her shoulders, smelling the floral fragrance from her hair.

"I'm scared," he finally said, whispering it into her ear.

"So am I," she said gently, stroking his hair and his wings. He put them around the two of them.

"You never said," he began. "How you knew all of this. About these Dark Gods."

"I think it's . . .a race memory, I think" she said gently. "It was triggered when they woke up."

"Was there anything in your race memory about how we stop them?"

"No," she sighed, holding him tighter. "I know how hopeless that makes things seem. Like we don’t have a chance."

Darken looked at her. "I can’t deny things seem hopeless," he said. "But Liandra's right. If we don’t try to set it right our way, there's definitely no hope. I'll go for the maybe when forced to choose any day."

Phoenix pulled closer, burrowing close to his chest. 'I'm scared too, Darken," she said.

"Why?"

"Because," she said, finding his hands and closing them around her. "I know in my heart that even if we win, I have to make a choice for you. And I'll be honest Darken, I don’t know what I should do."

Tears spilled from her eyes. She tried to steady her breathing.

"You want to make me a god," he breathed.

Phoenix nodded slowly. "It's the only way I can think to stop what's coming. With your Soul Power."

"I know," Darken said quietly.

"It's funny," she said, crying more steadily now. "When Vertigo kissed you, two weeks ago, and you left . . . she asked me how I felt, knowing I'd lose you. Because you’re mortal and I'm not. And n-now . . .that's what I'm looking at."

Phoenix looked up at him, touching his face. Her violet eyes shone with tears in the moonlit darkness.

Darken pulled her close and kissed her with all the passion in his heart. He didn’t have the answers. Not for how they would stand against the Dark Gods, not for how he would survive what the Soul Power was doing to him. The only thing he knew for sure, was that this would perhaps be the final chance he had to hold the woman he loved in his arms.

And he was certainly going to make the most of it. Whatever happened tomorrow, he thought. Romanova would know the love he carried for her tonight.

* * *

Vertigo looked at the man before her and tried to see any trace of the man who shared his name. The man she had loved what seemed like several centuries ago.

She remembered Adamov of Russalka is a kind and gentle man, fair-skinned, with hair that was a pale shade of gold. It had been so soft to her touch. He had been a kind and gentle person, one who cared about his land and ruled with his heart.

And what was before her now? A twisted mockery of that same man, his skin dead-white, scarred, crisscrossed with wiring through his skin. Where those hands, those gentle hands had been were two powerful arms, machines. Cold iron.

Cold iron was what she felt when he looked at his face, half-obscured by the metal mask he wore over half of it. She looked into the blackness of his eyes, at the dark red pinpoints of his pupils and felt . . .nothing.

"You’re not Adamov," she said simply.

Adamov recoiled in a way that belied his hard exterior. "How can you say that?" Adamov asked her, walking slowly towards her. "My love, do you know what I have endured for you? What I suffered through after you left?"

Vertigo stared at him. How odd, she thought. How odd that he looks so much like that devil machine Lanicrus. I was enamored of Lanicrus because he represented perfect chaos. What does this man represent?

Nothing but failure.

"What happened to you?" Vertigo asked.

"I was taken by the Machine Empire," he said. His coldly modulated voice almost showed some emotion as he spoke. "They . . .turned me into this, so I would infect every living thing I came in contact with. Actually . . . I killed most of my people when I returned, because I couldn’t control . . .what I was."

Vertigo looked at him. It was all she could do.

"Then, I found my way here . . .there were signs of your passing this way. And I met Kirone. She confirmed what I thought. You were here."

"Do you know what Kirone has done to me?" Vertigo asked him, her anger rising. "I mean, besides imprisoning me. She's tried to kill me more times than you know. And you trusted her to tell you where I was?"

"All she asked in return . . . "
"She USED you, Adamov!" Vertigo said. She rested back on the wall, a little shocked, she hadn't meant to yell that loud. "That's all she knows how to do. She used me, used my vendetta against Phoenix to get me to create Lanicrus, then she made him nearly kill me."

Adamov hung his head. "I thought it was the only way to find you, beloved. I would do anything for you. Don't you understand? I've even cheated death to come back to you."

"You cheated death," Vertigo began. "But you didn’t come back to me alive. The Adamov I knew wouldn’t have become this. The Adamov I knew wouldn’t have let himself be led and lied to by Kirone. The Adamov I loved is dead. You have his body . . .but you lost his heart and soul."

Adamov turned away, clenching his fists in silent sadness. "I had long prayed for this moment," he began slowly. "But I was afraid of it as well. I was afraid that, at the end of my quest, I would be rejected. I came after you to find my heart and soul again, beloved Vertigo."

He sighed. For the first time since she had heard him talk, there was no rasp from the voice modulator. It actually sounded like him.

"I only hope Darken is as good for you as I could have been."

Vertigo blinked. "Darken?"

"The man who has stolen your heart. During the battle at the Machine Sphere, I saw him holding you. I fought him, but he denied having your affections."

"That's because he doesn't have them," Vertigo said, almost chuckling. She really couldn’t believe this.

"So he said. He acted as though he had no idea what I was talking about."

"I have no idea what you’re talking about," Vertigo said. "Darken and I . . .almost . . . shared something. But he's not mine, Adamov."

"A pity," he said.

"You want Darken and I to be together?"

Adamov turned around. "No," he said. "A pity that I will kill him the next time I see him."

"WHY?"
"Because," Adamov said, walking close to her. He put out his hand, stroking her soft silver hair. "Your love is lost to me. Not because of him, but because of myself. I see now the folly of living for love."

He turned away and walked out the door. "My vengeance is all I have now."

Adamov raised his arm. The launcher that held his energy blaster moved into position.

"Hold still," he said. There were two flashes of red light above Vertigo. Her head jerked up, to see what he was aiming for. Her shackles, now split and destroyed clattered to the cobble floor of the dungeon.

She looked back at the door, but Adamov was gone. Stranger than that, the door was wide open. She walked over to it. The Metalhawks, the machines that had guarded her were destroyed. Drained of energy.

Vertigo rubbed her wrists. She was free, and her savior was the same man she had accused of living without a soul.

Why, Adamov? Vertigo wondered.

* * *

Liandra sat alone save for her fairies, as she usually did on the cool nights like this. She wasn't as anxious as perhaps Darken and Phoenix were, but she was concerned for him all the same. How had it all come to this?

She sensed footsteps close by. She frowned. She had chosen this rock formation to be alone. Her fairies turned, peeking over Liandra's wings. She recognized the pale, raven-haired visitor.

"Tralesta," she whispered. Tralesta made her way closer, wrapped in her grey cloak.

"I've volunteered to move you through the Spheres," Tralesta said, her voice deep and thick with emotion. "Though I know what that will mean for me."

"The machines in your brain make it possible to open gates," Liandra said. "But a gate this far and this large could kill you."

"My death is the least I owe you, Liandra."

"You don’t owe me anything," Liandra replied.

"On behalf of my brother," Tralesta replied, moving closer. "Maybe . . .if I do this, it will make up for the guilt I have in my heart whenever I see you?"

"You don’t have any reason to be guilty," Liandra said, her purple hair covering her face.

"I don't?" Tralesta said incredulously. "I don’t have a right to feel guilty when I see what he's done to you? I don’t have a right to look where your eyes used to be and know that you can’t see me back, to look at your black wings, to look at the way the vampirism ravages you and feel responsible?"

"There is no use in hatred," Liandra said. "Not in hatred of others, or hatred of the self. I have never held you responsible for what your brother did to me. That's why I fight now . . .to end this old hatred."

"How is it that you can see it all so clearly?" Tralesta said, tears welling in her eyes. "How can you set yourself apart from it? Don't you feel it? Don’t you feels sadness, pain, loneliness?"

"All the time," Liandra said.

"Then what is there to life for?"

"A time when no one has to carry the burden I carry every day. Except for me."

* * *

Ever since Kirone had taken over Nycheladra, the Angel Sphere, a situation more or less like chaos had reigned over the floating cities of the Angel Kingdom. Nowhere was this most acute than in the streets of the capitol. Ruins and rubble from the battles that had raged against the small pockets of resistance to Kirone had left most of the city a battered ruin. Bodies lay unburied in the streets.

A young angel child was picking his way through the shattered remains of a bakery. In his thoughts, he was hoping the bakery had only recently been destroyed. That there might still be food for his family, which was cowering underneath its own pile of rubble across town. Behind him was his older brother, holding one of the battle-staves of the Seraphim, the Angelic Guard.

They had stolen it, of course, but they had seen little choice--its owner wasn't going to use it, and they needed a way to protect themselves.

They heard battle two streets away. Screams of agony. They picked their way through the rubble blocking the entrance as quietly as possible, not wishing the battle to find them.

Finally, there was an avenue to squeeze through. Inside they found treasure. Bread--enough to last their family a long time. Until perhaps this all ended. They had prayed nightly to the Goddess Phoenix for their struggle to end, for this hateful war to be over.

The two boys had begun to wonder if their Goddess was even listening.

Before they could reach the bread, however, the walls imploded next to them, Two Seraphim, their wings almost red from the blood spilled on them crashed through. In a cloud of smoke, they saw a massive black and red creature, massively armored. He gestured for them to stand up, for them to fight again.

The Seraphim retaliated by blasting him with their spear's energy weapon. The massive beast kept moving toward them. He slapped their weapons to the floor, then seized one of them, impaling the Seraphim on his own Spear. Then he threw the speared angel towards his fellow.

The other Seraphim cradled his fallen comrade, then raised his shield. It probably wasn't strong enough to save them, but he was past that now. There was only vengeance for them now.

He ran to the beast, battering at him with the shield. It seemed to shake him momentarily, then cracks began to form in the mystic crystal structure. Finally it shattered against the beast's body, driving shards into his eyes.

He swiped at the Seraphim, taking his head off with the blow. The beats roared and squealed with pain, rubbing at his eyes. He swiped blindly, angrily around him. His hands shattered two of the support columns, which caused the ruin of the bakery to groan, lurch, and finally collapse.

For the boys, the end was swift. They would at least be spared the slow death of suffocation. For their families, never knowing their fate, the agony would be harder.

The beast punched his way through the rubble, his chest heaving.

"Well done, my son," a voice said from behind him. He did not turn an attack. He knew this voice, he knew not to fear it. It was, after all his mother's voice.

"Lassius," Typhena said, gently patting his armored form. "My dear and only child. You trust your mother, do you not? After all, I have taken care of you, even when your father would not."

Lassius just sat there, seething, not saying a word.

"That's what I want to talk to you about, my beloved son," she said. "Garuda is weak. He has been seduced by this mortal weakness. And it falls to us to set him back on the right path. The path that will make us masters of this universe, as we were before."

Lassius seethed quietly.

"But it may be difficult. This Kirone has many allies. I need you my son. I need to know that when the time comes, I can depend on you to help me."

Lassius tried to close his eyes but found it too painful. He nodded twice.

"Very good," she said, kissing him on the cheek. "You make your mother very proud."

* * *

"Romanova?"

"Yes, Darken?"

"If we survive this," he said, taking her hand in his. "Do whatever you have to. I want us to be together forever."

Phoenix moved over him. They lay together in the silence of night. Phoenix wondered with a chill of fear whether this would be the last time they would be together. Darken didn't sound to confident, and she felt even less confident.

"You would do that for me?"

"I can't conceive of a life without you, Romanova," he said, pulling her close and kissing her. "I won’t lose you. Not to destiny, not to the Dark Gods, not to anyone."

"Even if you have to live as a god?"

"I already do," Darken began. "Because you love me."

* * *

Sarene sat perched on the ledge of the Dark Tower, the remains of Kirone's ship that jutted out at an opposing angle to the palace tower. She had sought a place to be alone out almost as soon as they had landed. She hated this place, and hated this world. More than ever, of course, she hated herself.

The echo of Typhena's words echoed in her mind. She had never wanted this life, and had sometimes wished most fondly that she had been one of the gods Garuda had murdered before they were all imprisoned.

All that I have lost I can remember as though it just happened, she thought. I was so radiant once. Sarene, Goddess of Love. Then Garuda came. Corrupted me, and made me into this. And I am so weak now as then that I can do nothing save obey him.

Tears, blue and cool fell from her eyes. She didn’t want to obey Typhena. Even as a Dark God (How she hated that term!) the idea of taking a human life was repugnant to her.

And the worst part of it is, Sarene thought, putting her head in her hands. The worst part is, I probably will end up doing it. Because I have become so inured to my despair, and the despair of others, that I see no other way.

She looked up at the night sky and tried to remember when she had last seen the rays of sun.

* * *

Darken, Liandra, and Phoenix awoke with the rising of the sun. They made their way to the upper deck of the Ghost Lion, none of them saying a word. No one was ready yet.

Darken mounted the stairs, holding Phoenix's hand tightly. Liandra walked behind them, her fairies flying close by her. The mood was tense, and silent.

Darken squinted as they made their way into the sun. Then his jaw dropped as he saw what was waiting for him. A huge phalanx of warriors--angels, dragons, humans, techno-pirates--had gathered. They lined the deck of the ship, three rows thick. Darken walked past them, very slowly. As they caught sight of them, the force snapped into a salute. Darken walked past them, his mind reeling.

An honor guard, he thought. An honor guard. Some of these same people have stood against me, people I've never met. Come to honor me. Why? Because they think I can write the new future for them?

They’re wrong. We'll all have to. All I'm doing is starting the process.

Phoenix marveled at this, unable to fathom why they had all come out for them. Then she caught sight of the four people before them. Sachiel stood there, with Tralesta, Pirate Lion, and his wife Leiliel.

All this for Darken, she thought. I can’t help but feel that much more guilty, having to take him away from all this, from all these people who love him. Why is it that to defend those you love, you sometimes have to leave them behind?

Liandra merely noted all these people, thinking of what Tralesta had said to her last night. She also noticed that no one was saying anything. She could feel the enormity of the moment.

There were no words, no speeches. No tearful embraces. Just a thousand or so people holding a salute, honoring the three of them. And now, Tralesta stepped forward, and began to generate the gateway. There was a swirl of purple, and the vortex emerged. Blood issued from Tralesta's eyes, ears, and nose as she struggled to hold the entrance open and establish the exit at the Angel Sphere.

Got. . . it, she thought, opening the exit so far away. She willed herself to hold it open, even though the pain was indescribable she knew she had to do it, because of all that hinged on it.

Darken and Phoenix stepped through it first, followed quickly by Liandra. Tralesta felt the exit close . . .they were safely through. Thank heaven, she thought. We all have a chance now . . .

Tralesta slumped to the deck, dead.

Sachiel ordered two of them men to come forward. Tralesta would be buried with high honor for what she had made possible. It was the least they could do for someone so valiant. Sachiel just hoped it would have to be the last person he ordered burial rites for.

* * *

Adamov strode into the throne room of the palace, the barest hint of a smile on his face. Kirone looked at him, wrapped in the arms of Garuda.

"Exactly what are you so happy about?" Kirone asked him.

"Your Seketha report that three being have crossed over into the Sphere," Adamov said. "One of them is Darken Blackangel."

Kirone stood up. "No," she said quietly.

"I'm afraid so," Adamov said. "Now I have the opportunity to finish my battle with the halfling. I will teach him to fear the Lord of Death."

Kirone smiled. "You do just that," she said. "Just expect a lot of company. Damn him . . .why can’t he stay dead?"

Kirone seized the communication crystal closest to her. "Get the Morgana and a fleet of ships moving at once," she said. "Intercept the three intruders. Do not return until you have their three bodies handing from the hull of your ship!"

Kirone threw the crystal against the wall, shattering it. She stared at the fragments, seething with anger.

Adamov smiled again and left. Despite himself, he allowed a bit of respect for anyone who could annoy Kirone that much. He reached an open balcony and took wing, his crystal wings glimmering in the early daylight.

Kirone looked at Garuda.

"My love," he said. "Perhaps I should go? I very much doubt that this . . .Darken . . .could survive a battle with me and my brethren."

Kirone pulled close to him. "No," she said. "It's not necessary. Between Adamov and the new Seketha on the ships, we should have no trouble with Darken Blackangel. They'll burn him from the skies before he even sees the palace."

Garuda smiled. "One of the many reasons I have such affection for you," he said, brushing her fiery hair from her face. "You have everything under control."

Kirone sighed and fell into his arms. She hoped she had everything under control.