Adamov looked at himself in the crystal wall of the Morgana. It seemed an odd thing to do, given everything. His burning red eyes reflected in the crystal, two pinpoints of red in darkness. They made his dead-white skin seem even paler to the human eye. He brushed a lock of his blond hair away from his face with his metal hands. Servomotors quietly whirred with the delicate motion.

He wondered for a brief moment if he was even human anymore. Beneath the shroud of his hair was the mask he had fused to his face, to disguise the scarring he had received in his recent battles. He turned from the mirror, focusing on the task before him. He silently made his way to the bridge of the ship, his white boots clacking softly on the metal floor.

He walked through the door to the bridge, the lights and activity cast shadows on the shining metal of his body. He did move, nor even breathe. His heart didn't skip a beat, not was he anticipating the job he would soon do. He was dead, in fact as well as his soul.

The red-haired woman, just as pale as he, spun her hair around to look at him. Her purple cloak hung around her shoulders, contrasting her black uniform, adorned with the bones of her enemies.

"Adamov," she said, her voice a smooth yet cold melody. "I assume you’re ready?"

"I have been ready, Kirone," he said. His voice carried a mechanical rasp thanks to the modulator at his neck, to replace his shredded voicebox. "I expect you to hold your end of our bargain. Vertigo is mine, as is one of these worlds."

"Of course, of course," Kirone said. "It's enough for me that you help. You don't even have to rule in my name."

"I rule in no one's name save my own," Adamov sneered.

"Well," Kirone said plainly. "That's just wonderful for you."

Adamov looked out the bridge's window. "Let us begin," he said. "I have no desire to delay this."

"Very well," Kirone said. She gestured to one of the black-clad beings at the bridge stations. "Open the gate to Ananta."

Adamov exited the bridge, making his way to the deck of the skyship. He peered over the side, watching the clouds pass below them. This technology was impressive--different from his, yes--but impressive. That was what worried him about Kirone--her duplicitous nature made her hard to trust.

He ignored that as the ship opened the gate. A swirling green vortex appeared before the ship. It would take him to one of the Spheres--this one, Kirone had told him, a sphere of water. This would have been easier before travel had become so difficult, but Adamov was confident he could survive it.

The huge purple metal struts on his back spread open, revealing wings of blue crystal. Adamov leapt into the air, the crystals crackling with energy. They left a sound as they passed over, like a scream. He flew into the vortex, and soon he and the vortex were gone out of sight.

* * *

Phoenix Romanova brushed the hair away from her lover's face. He's so beautiful, so peaceful like this, she thought. At least his injuries are finally healing. I just hate myself for telling him that he may have to do this again very soon.

She had mostly kept to him, but she had heard talk among his friends that they would soon have to go back. That had been made harder since the last time they had fought Kirone it had led to the destruction of one of the Spheres, and all travel and communication between the spheres was a near-impossibility.

Phoenix had only met Kirone once, and then only for a few brief seconds, but she had sensed her consummate evil. And more than that, a taint, something beyond her own innate evil. Something darker, and something familiar to her.

My love, she thought, kissing his forehead. I confess I never really understood your rivalry with Kirone, but now I fear there is more involved than you know. More than you should know. If I had known, or had put it all together then, I would have killed her then and there.

As it was, she had very nearly lost him. He and Kirone had battled as the Sphere was preparing to be destroyed. Kirone had pushed him, and very nearly gotten the drop on him. But she caught him.

Darken Blackangel, she said, holding him close to her breast. I will not let death take you.

* * *

Adamov flew over the water, splitting it with the speed of his flight. There were some small cities where air-breathers lived at, a few fathoms below, but travel there was difficult. Kirone could not send a force to take it.

Adamov could, however, as breathing was not an issue to him. He sliced into the water with barely a splash, the water slowing him only a little. He narrowed his field of vision. Five fathoms below he could see the city, a glistening jewel in the lower depths. There would be where he would find his prizes.

As he sank lower, various fish passed by him, went belly-up and died. Adamov paid it no notice. One of the gifts of his cheating death was his tendency to spread death and decay where he went. The machines had helped his control of it, but he didn't bother restraining it. He didn't care for the people of this sphere, didn't care for any of them.

What he did, he did for love.

He passed through the membrane that kept the water at bay. His wings folded inwards and he made his way to the palace at the center of the city. The pale, green-haired inhabitants moved out of the way when they saw him, but to no avail. They succumbed to his death wave as easily as the fish had.

Finally he made his way to the palace gates. A phalanx of guards had by now become aware of him and began to engage him. They were armored, and Adamov had in truth gotten tired of the casual killing of these people. So, he decided to test himself.

He leveled his left arm at a group of them. His metal fist retracted as two hooks sprang forward. His heavy metal fist rocketed forth, snagging ahold of one of the guard and smashing him against a wall. Adamov allowed himself a smile.

Adamov felt a bolt from a crossbow pierce his skin. He turned around, retracting his claw-weapon. He smiled. From the ramparts above, they were trying to pick him off. How quaint, he thought.

He aimed his left arm at them again. The claw mechanism retracted as a small weapon swiveled into position. Bolts of energy poured forth from it, ripping the snipers to pieces. He stepped over the bodies of the guards and made his way to the inner gates.

Twin launchers moved into position on his back. Small missiles launched, blowing the door to smithereens. More guards made their way in, some moving large machines into his path. Adamov launched more missiles, as the guards had now begun to bore him.

* * *

Liandra Skyshade sat at the bow of the Ghost Lion, seeing nothing. The twin glowing fairies who saw for her were focused on the discussions that were happening in front of her. Plans were being made, decisions were being arrived at, and none of them were very good ones.

They had been running for a week now, she thought. Ever since the Machine Sphere was destroyed we've been stuck here, in Cynon. And now, in one of the great ironies of our time, everyone's working together. Darken would be happy. After all it happened without him this time.

Sachiel, the prince of the Angels was talking with King Atlan of the Dragons. The master of this ship, the robotic Pirate Lion was there to discuss strategy, along with Elita Miral, who had recently been Sachiel's Lord Protector.

The conversation would have held more interest for Liandra if the same conversation hadn't been played out three times a day for the last week. They were planning a way to take back the Angel Sphere, but the same questions came up. How can we do it with such a small force? How can we hope to cross into the Sphere with Kirone's forces being there to meet us?

Liandra honestly had no reason to care whether either side won. To the Angels, she was an outcast, being half-vampire, as her ebony wings attested to. To everyone else she was coddled as a cripple, which she hated. Her blindness had never been a handicap to her, and that was before the twin fairies, Aurorya and Adorya, had become bonded to her.

Idly, she tweezed her purple shirt with her fingers. It was still soft, despite it's tattered condition. Darken had made sure it was kept at least wearable. One of the funniest things, and one of the first (now that she thought about it) things she had seen with her new "eyes" was Darken washing her clothes.

Darken, she thought, My brother in spirit if not in fact. He is the sole reason I am here. She thought about the last time she had seem him, injured and exhausted, sleeping in Phoenix's arms. She had, in the short time she had known Phoenix, learned not to underestimate her effect on Darken, but she had never seen Darken this weak.

Liandra hadn't shown it, but she was worried.

Darken, she thought. My beloved brother. I know we've all asked too much of you, but it seems we need you again.

* * *

By the time he had entered the throne room, Adamov was bitterly sick of the Palace guards and had gone back to killing them with just his death wave. He reached into the heavy iron of the door to the throne room and tore it off its hinges.

Inside he found the white-clad Queen of these people, Aemonie, and a dragon. Kirone's spies had shown her they would be there. They had been plotting against her, planning to launch an attack, but the destruction of the Sphere had taken care of that.

"Queen Aemonie," Adamov said. "I only seek you and your . . .associate's keys. I know you have them. I have journeyed a long way to take them. I urge you, if you have any sense of self-preservation . . .give them to me without incident."

"And if we refuse?" The dragon snarled.

"You will be killed, and I will take them anyway."

The dragon took wing, cutting the distance between them to nothing with one swipe of his leathery wings. Adamov glanced up and frowned.

"Pitiful," he said. His own wing unfurled and slashed down, shearing off one of the dragon's wings.

The dragon fell, breaking the marble of the floor. He swiped his tail at Adamov, who was already aloft. The dragon breathed fire at him, but Adamov gracefully turned and aimed his left arm at him. Before the dragon was aware, a sharp spike had pierced his throat.

"I was going to spare your life," Adamov said. "Why couldn't you have believed that?"

He seized the dragon by the throat, willing his death wave to its fullest power. The dragon was dead within seconds but Adamov held on until he had crumbled to dust.

"Now," he said, moving toward Aemonie. "Has this been lost on you?"

"I should destroy that which you seek," she replied, bringing her own weapon to bear. The ornate trident was leveled at his stomach, ready to shred his innards.

"You cannot," he said, walking towards her. The spike launcher rotated to its disarmed position.

"If I give you these," she said, moving towards him. "You know what will happen. What that hateful bitch you serve will do. Our future will be damned."

With that, she rammed her trident into his stomach. Adamov looked down, almost amazed. He raised his claw weapon and looked into her eyes.

"Perhaps so," he said. "But I do not fight for her. I fight to reclaim my heart. And a dark future perhaps suits the Lord of Death."

The claw weapon fired, catching Aemonie in the face. She flew into the wall, smashing it with the force of impact. A shall on her belt shattered, and two devices, like disks with crystal pyramids embedded in them fell out. Adamov took them, then, looking down, yanked the trident from his stomach.

With these, he thought, a genuine smile crossing his face. I will purchase your freedom and mine, beloved Vertigo.

* * *

Vertigo pulled against the chains that held her in the dungeon. She had the power to break them, of course, and then fight her way through Kirone's guards, but then what?

That power was all she had. Her sword had been destroyed in the explosion of the Sphere, and without it she couldn't replenish the chaos energy that had for so long been her addiction. She couldn't help but smile at the bitter irony of it.

She looked up and down. There were lock picks and small weapons they had missed in searching her, but Kirone was taking no chances with her keepers. She could hear the hum of their machine hearts as they stood outside. Her small knives and throwing blades wouldn't even scratch their armor, she thought.

Had it been half a year ago since Kirone had last held her captive? It felt like longer, an entire year almost. This was actually mercy on Kirone's part, and that made Vertigo wonder all the more about why she was being kept around.

Why let me live? Vertigo pondered. To feed her ego, so I can be here for her final triumph? Or is there something else she has planned?

She leaned back against the wall, sighing. She pushed her self off again, flipping over, trying to pull the chains mooring from the stone wall. She held her legs over her, straightening them fully, pushing and pulling until she felt her shoulders begin to dislocate. She flipped back down, gasping.

That was stupid, she chided herself. There's a way out . . .I know that. I just have to wait for the right time to leave.

* * *

"Beautiful," Kirone said, admiring the two keys. She put them in a crystal box with the other two, smiling with satisfaction. "I trust there was no undue trouble in gaining these?"

"Nothing I could not handle," Adamov said indifferently. "I trust this satisfies my debt to you? I am eager to take Vertigo away from this place."

"I'm sure you are," Kirone said. "And we will, as soon as we return to the palace."

"I will go there now," Adamov said, turning to her. "I have no interest in--what did the sea queen call it? --your dark plan."

"You aren't the least bit curious?" Kirone asked him.

His red eyes narrowed on hers. "No."

"Adamov, I think you have become more machine than human," Kirone said, turning back to the box. "Don’t you even feel curiosity, or even satisfaction at what we've done?"

"I will only feel such things when I have Vertigo in my arms again and I have crushed Darken Blackangel," he said. "He will learn the price of tampering with my heart's desire . . .when I tear his own heart from his chest and pulp it in my grasp."

Kirone cocked an eyebrow. "I think you think too much about it, myself," she said, smirking. "But answer me this . . .if there are all these emotion you're unable to feel, you can you profess to love Vertigo?"

Adamov turned to her, the red pinpoints of his eyes glowing. "Do not speculate," he cautioned her. "On what you cannot understand. Your only love is power, Kirone. Well you will find it a cruel and capricious lover."

"I'm willing to take that chance."

"Perhaps you are," he said, turning and leaving. Kirone caressed the keys with her gaze. So close now, she thought. So close to winning. So close to proving that I am the true child of destiny and the inheritor of this world.

For too long has Darken tried to usurp my destiny. Now he's gone and can do nothing. Either he's dead or he's trapped. And nothing can stand in the way of my going to Taruga and completing this final task.

She opened the door. One of the black-robed creatures from the bridge bowed reverently then stood, awaiting orders.

"Take this ship to Taruga," she said. "It's time at last.

* * *

Darken Blackangel fully awoke for the first time in a week. He stretched his black and red wings wide, causing Phoenix to duck out of the way. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Off and on?" Phoenix said. "About a week."

"A week?" Darken said, alarmingly reaching for his clothes. Phoenix put her arms around him, and held him.

"Mmm," he said, suddenly forgetting his previous urgency. "Were you here the whole time, sweet Romanova?"

Phoenix nodded. She felt him stroking her soft dark brown hair. She gently planted a row of kisses against his snow-white skin. He brushed his blue-black hair away from his eyes and looked down at her. She smiled.

"It seemed to be the best way to get you feeling better," she said, looking up into his blue eyes.

"It worked, he said, becoming lost in her violet eyes. "Though I have to confess . . .now I really don't want to get out of bed."

"You'll want to even less when you heart what's happening outside," Liandra said. Darken and Phoenix both jumped--as usual, they hadn't heard her come in. Phoenix pulled the sheet up to her chest to cover her naked body.

"Liandra!" Darken said, as much happy greeting as it was chastisement.

"Hello, big brother," she said, rushing to embrace him. "Missed you."

"I missed you too," he said, stroking her purple hair. "But what did you mean about what was happening outside?"

Liandra sighed. "It's not good news."

Darken reached for his clothes. "That doesn't surprise me. Not with Kirone this close to winning."

"Darken, about that--" Phoenix began. "I think Kirone may be even more dangerous than you know."

"I know quite a bit about how dangerous she is," Darken drew his blue pants on, fastening his white boots and kneepads over them.

"I've had a feeling, ever since I met her," Phoenix said, reaching for her clothes too. "Darken, Kirone has the taint of darkest evil on her."

Darken fastened his chest armor around his stomach. It immediately expanded, protecting his chest. " I know that," he said. "And I'm a fool for letting her get away. I should have tried to finish her before things even got this far."

"You tried that once already," Liandra said. "When you went on that suicide mission against her two years ago. You didn't even get close. Listen to her, Darken. She is, after all a goddess."

Darken sighed, drawing on his black and blue jacket. He remembered. The attack he had mounted on Kirone's ship was how he had met Phoenix in the first place. How odd, he thought, how entwined everything is, like it was all some master plan from the start.

"You think she's enlisted some dark god to help her?"

"It's possible," Phoenix said.

"I thought there were no truly dark gods," Darken said, buckling his Eagle Clasp with the red scarf he wore around his neck.

"There aren't," Phoenix said. "Now, anyway. But there used to be. That's why my race of gods was created in the first place."

"Then what happened to the old ones?" Liandra said.

"Most of them were imprisoned," Phoenix said. "All over the universe, every quiet dimension we could find that would bind them. However, we discounted what would happen when mortals lived on their prisons, apparently."

"And Kirone may have enlisted with one," Darken said. "This is not good."

"It gets worse, I'm afraid," Liandra said. "I don't mean to make things even bleaker, but I've been listening to Sachiel and the rest. They're planning a counterattack. They're going to use the few ships and soldier they have and try to fight their way to the palace."

"Suicide," Darken said. "Kirone would have them burning in the skies in an hour's time, at best."

"I know," Liandra said. "And if what you say is true, Phoenix, Kirone will be even more powerful by the time they move, if they haven't already."

"I'm going to go talk to him," Darken said. "There's too few of us left to risk like this."

Darken exited the room, his footsteps echoing on the worn planks of the floor.

"Has he always been like that?" Phoenix asked, straightening her own black and red clothing.

"Always," Liandra said, her fairies looking worried. "He would die himself before he would let another person suffer, especially if it's his fault."

"But what happened at the Sphere wasn't his fault."

"You and I know that," Liandra said. "But Darken will not hear it. He won't say it out loud, but I know him. He feel in his heart that things would not be the desperate, had he struck her down when he had the chance. I used to think it was a matter of other people heaping their hopes and needs on him, but it's just as much him, I think."

"Then what can we do?"

Liandra's fairies looked at her. "The only thing we can," she said simply. "We can stand with him."