Water jetted painfully into Mickie’s face as the world bucked beneath him. It was taking everything Ziz had to drag them up and through the rain. They might not even have made it, if the primordial had not managed to break free from the incessant downpour.

  One moment the branded man could hardly see with the water in his eyes, and the next wind was whipping at his face. Ziz cawed out in relief as Mickie straightened from where he had been hunching with Kalistra. They were close enough to the ceiling now that he could see the water leaking through gaps in the steel, seams so small he would not have otherwise noticed them.

  Ziz slammed into one of the massive hanging lights, perching itself upon the lip of the big lamp as they had when evading the Minotoncheires. It was more awkward than ever, considering Ziz was wet and held their lost buddy Gethin in one talon. After some precarious swinging, the big avian settled into place. Mickie eyed the distance between the roof above the light and the point where the rain started. It was perhaps fifteen meters.

  ‘Will this work?’

  He called to the metallic machine as it clattered to the steel beside them.

  ‘Perhaps. It depends on the formation of the tunnel and the composition of the steel.’

  ‘Not all that convincing are you.’ Miz-Mag muttered. Ignoring his partner, Mickie leant past a bedraggled Kalistra.

  ‘Hey bud, this’ll do. Give us a hand up to the chain would you?’

  Gripping tightly to the hanging lamp, Ziz twisted its long neck around, lifting both Mickie and Kalistra to the large chain that pinned the light to the ceiling. As the branded man wrapped his arm through one of the links he chanced a glance back over his shoulder.

  The situation in the city was clear from this high up. Water spouted from every side entrance like water from a fire hydrant. The pressure was such that some buildings near the street edges had been dragged off in the current.

  Mickie wondered just how many of the lost had survived this far. It was likely only those that remained within the upper levels of the houses, but even they would not last if the city went under. The sight left Mickie feeling a little dismayed.

  They had only just found out that the lost were not entirely gone. If Gethin could remember himself for a time, the rest might too. Any chance of that was gone with the Soul Forge, drowned by Magareem’s desire to keep the relic for itself.

  ‘Are you ready?’

  Kalistra asked, hanging from the chain beside him. Mickie turned from the city and nodded.

  ‘Yeah. Let’s crack this egg.’

  The pair shifted their attention to a clear region of steel a small distance from where the chain met the ceiling. Kalistra’s power built beside him like a rising tide. The gorgon collected and focussed it before striking out at the metal with the precision of a hawk. There was a crack and part of the metal shifted to stone. The lamp upon which they were all perched gave a precarious groan, and Mickie tightened his grip on the chain. That waited for a tense few moments, but the ceiling held.

  ‘Alright.’ Kalistra murmured. ‘Your turn.’

  The branded man called for his gun and channelled power into it. Wary of the damage, he only went with a small amount. He aimed and fired, sending stones clinking about them and spinning off towards the torrent below. They were left with a rock studded hole in the metal, reaching a couple feet deep.

  ‘Alright.’ Mickie said. ‘Let’s do it again.’

  He and Kalitra alternated their powers to dig through the metal. After three blasts they were met with a sudden spray of water. It tumbled out of the dark opening, joining the rain on its journey downward.

  Mickie’s gut clenched as he thought the robot had been wrong and their only plan was dead in the water. The flow of liquid slowed after a moment however, becoming a noticeable, but manageable, trickle. The relief dragged a mad laugh out of the branded man.

  ‘We’re through!’ He called to the others. ‘It isn’t flooded.’

  ‘It’s about time I got some good news, kid. Now get me out of this rain.’

  Miz-Mag called from atop Ziz’s head. The little fiend would be staying back to help the primordial during their plan’s next step.

  ‘Alright, you’re up.’ Mickie waved the metallic machine over. It flapped almost reluctantly into the air beside him.

  ‘I am unsure of this.’ The robot muttered in its flat voice.

  ‘You assured us it would not be an issue.’ Kalistra said, narrowing her eyes at the machine.

  ‘Yes. My estimations of your weight and the flight are within parameters. Yet…’

  Something occurred to Mickie as he heard the hesitation in the robot’s voice.

  ‘Is this one of your unknowns?’ He asked.

  ‘Yes.’ The machine whirred eagerly. ‘It is impacting my processing in ways I cannot quantify.’

  ‘Good to know.’ The branded man filed his discovery away for later discussion. ‘If your math was right before, then it’ll be fine.’

  He indicated the robot should approach.

  ‘Let's get started before more water hits.’

  With only a moment's hesitation, the machine’s taloned legs shifted, becoming something more suitable for wrapping about a human’s shoulders. Something on its back also changed, small protrusions emerging from the imitation feathers that the robot said would aid with flight. Soon Mickie was bound to a weird, bird-shaped jetpack. He turned and waved to his partner and Ziz.

  ‘See you soon.’

  Mickie leapt toward the hole in the roof and into the open air. He dangled precariously for a moment, before something kicked in the machine and he was propelled forwards. The moment he could, Mickie reached through the opening to grasp one of the remaining stone spikes.

  He dragged himself into the darkness, slipping and stabbing his knees on stone, until he burst through their homemade tunnel. From what light filtered in behind them, Mickie made out a vast passage, the floor of which was the very ceiling of the city below. There was an ankle-deep river flowing through the space, winding into the darkness behind them. He and Kalistra had broken through on the corner, where a lip of stone blocked the worst of the water.

  ‘Alright, you head back down to grab Kalistra, then we’ll get started.’

  The machine buzzed in agreement and disentangled itself from Mickie. Moments later he was left alone in the vast tunnel, listening to the sound of rushing water. He followed the curve of the passage upwards to where it faded into darkness. Once the river of flowing water cleared the city’s ceiling it became a cascade, running down a steep tunnel of rough-hewn stone. The branded man wondered how long it would be until all of this was under water.

  Kalistra’s arrival drew him from his reverie, the gorgon dragging herself from the hole they had made with some relief. She straightened as the machine detached itself from her, squinting to see in the dim light.

  ‘Still poor in the darkness.’ She muttered. ‘Is that you, Mickie?’

  ‘Yeah.’ He stepped closer to her. ‘The upgrade doesn’t help you out?’

  ‘No, I expended all my time on the application of soul sight, a slight mistake in retrospect.’ Kalistra sighed. ‘It’s still better than my hair though.’

  Mickie thought about using his gun as a light, but he would need to use the weapon soon enough. It was the machine who offered a solution.

  ‘Perhaps I can provide aid.’

  It said, body shifting to remove its most recent changes. The talons reverted to normal, and a number of strange glass protrusions sprouted along its body. These shapes, like lumps on a toad, began to glow with white, fluorescent light.

  ‘Woah. That’s bright.’ Mickie had to hold his hand up before his eyes.

  ‘Sorry.’

  The machine replied and the light dimmed to a more suitable level. Kalistra let out an astonished breath as she examined the passage.

  ‘This is certainly large enough for the Minotoncheires.’

  ‘Yeah. Let’s get Ziz in here before the water level rises.’

  The three of them walked out into the ankle deep stream, moving to a spot the machine indicated. Once there, they began work on carving out a hole in the metal roof. Well clear of the hanging lamp’s position, he and Kalistra made it wider and wider, until it would fit Ziz’s bulk. The resulting gap formed a waterfall all of its own, cutting off a stretch of the shallow river.

  ‘Look out.’

  Kalistra said, grabbing Mickie’s hand and pulling him from the broad opening. Seconds later Ziz shot through the gap with a caw, wings tucked tightly to its sides. Mickie cursed as he was buffeted by a blast of air and sprayed by a stream of water. The primordial could not have had more than a few inches clearance on entry, and one of its passengers was making their ire known.

  ‘Damned bird brain, I told ya to wait for the accursed signal. Nearly took my bloody head off.’

  Miz-Mag continued its tirade until Ziz slammed hard to the roof nearby, disrupting the flow of water with its bulk.

  ‘Was taking too long. I don’t like the water, want to leave. Also…’ The primordial dropped the limp body of Gethin to the floor, flexing its talon. ‘My foot was getting sore.’

  The lost tumbled a few feet before stopping, face down, in the water. Kalistra cried out in alarm and rushed to his side.

  ‘Ziz! Watch what you do with him!’

  The gorgon dropped down beside Gethin and lifted him to his feet. The lost stood as directed, but made no further attempts to move.

  ‘By the blood, ain’t this a sight.’ Miz-Mag had recovered from its shock and was examining the massive tunnel. It soon noticed the machine hovering nearby. ‘Finally decided to make yourself useful, did ya?’

  ‘Notably more useful than you.’

  The glowing robot shot back, a note of irritation in its flat voice. Mickie decided to step in before they got caught up arguing instead of moving.

  ‘Glad you could make it bud.’ He said loudly to Ziz, giving the primordial a slap on the side. ‘Now let's get walking before we have to start swimming.’

  With that, the branded man started toward the waterfall tumbling its way down the steep, rocky slope. There was a slight pressure as a small demon landed on his shoulder.

  ‘Let me tell you kid, something is off with that bag of bolts.’ Miz-Mag murmured. ‘It just don’t know how to show the right kind of respect.’

  ‘Right, and you’d know all there is to know about showing respect.’

  Mickie said with a roll of his eyes. His partner gave him a flick to the ear. Further discussion was drowned out by a heated discussion between Kalistra and Ziz.

  ‘You were just doing it before, why can you not do it again?’

  ‘Makes walking difficult. What use is the meat anyway? Just leave it in the city, or let me have a snack.’

  Ziz stomped by them, followed closely by Kalistra and a stumbling Gethin.

  ‘He is the first lost I have ever heard of that has regained consciousness. The things he will know…’

  ‘Indeed. Kalistra makes a valid argument. There is notable evidence that this lost can recall its time within the forge.’

  The machine added helpfully and was forced to dart aside as the primordial snapped at it.

  ‘Quiet. I don’t listen to anything a copier like you says.’

  The group continued to bicker back and forth as they stepped off the city’s metal roof and onto stone, starting their climb into darkness.

  Even the most nervous of energies will fade under the weight of monotony, and Mickie’s companions proved no exception. Their chatter died under the constant spray of water as they clambered up the tunnel. Kalistra had convinced Ziz to carry Gethin again, and the lost man hung silently from the primordial’s tail like a sullen pinata.

  Something about the water was impacting their avian companion, more than just Ziz’s ability to fly, it made the bird cranky and snappish. As such he and Kalistra had opted to make their own way instead of forcing it to haul them as well. Mickie had more than once come to regret that decision as water sprayed into his eyes and nose.

  They had been moving for what felt like hours, always through the water, and always in the expansive tunnel. When the passage finally began to level out, it almost came as a surprise. One moment they were scrambling up stones, and the next, they were walking along a steep slope.

  The group began to notice small cracks and breaches in the walls that were leaking water. Each time they passed one, the river running through the passage would grow thinner, until finally, they stepped onto dry rock. The relief Mickie felt at being free from the water was tempered by the understanding that they were likely nearing the passage’s end.

  ‘So then.’ Miz-Mag said, breaking their silent vigil. ‘What’s the plan if we meet the big guy?’

  The demon’s voice echoed through the passage. Mickie felt a spike of panic, until he remembered that the giant would not hear a word his partner said.

  ‘Well, I do not think engaging the Minotoncheres is the best idea.’ Kalistra murmured, far quieter than Miz-Mag had been.

  ‘I agree.’ The gleaming machine responded. ‘Evading the giant should be the priority.’

  ‘I mean, sure, but I doubt the big barstard’ll be eager to let us go.’ Miz-Mag shot back. ‘What’re we gonna do if it takes offence to our presence?’

  ‘We could have another distraction ready. You could pull that light trick again.’ Mickie offered.

  ‘Maybe, but that’ll mean the rest of you will have to go without our resident glowstick.’ Miz-Mag waved towards the machine. ‘Otherwise I doubt I’ll be the target.’

  That was a good point. Mickie wracked his brain for something else that they could do, and soon landed on an idea.

  ‘We could try plan Big Boom?’ He suggested, and Miz-Mag stiffened on its perch.

  ‘That could work.’ Kalistra added thoughtfully. ‘It would certainly distract the monster.’

  ‘I like plan Big Boom.’ Ziz offered, which seemed to finally push Miz-Mag over the edge.

  ‘Of course you like it, bird brain. You won’t be the one risking their skin to make it happen.’ The demon snapped, before adding sullenly. ‘I don’t think we should do it.’

  ‘Why not? We tested the timing, you’ll be fine.’ Mickie said.

  ‘I nearly killed myself three times!’ The demon cried. ‘How is that even remotely close to fine?’

  ‘I wish to enquire. What is the plan designated as Big Boom?’ The machine asked, glancing between the other members of the group.

  ‘A death sentence.’ Miz-Mag muttered mournfully, and Mickie chuckled.

  ‘It isn’t that bad, Mag just hates having to pull its own weight.’ He squinted at the silver bird, a thought occurring. ‘Actually, I think you could improve it further.’

  Kalistra hummed in agreement.

  ‘Yes, we could use your lights to our advantage.’

  The branded man waited for Ziz to protest, he doubted the primordial would be amicable to having its position in the plan usurped. Yet the big avian said nothing. In fact, Ziz had stopped walking entirely, body rigid and eyes locked on the dark passage.

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  ‘Ahead.’

  It said in a low hiss. Instantly all the chatter died out as Mickie and his companions froze. The branded man squinted through the gloom, and he saw it. A shape hunched in the darkness, filling the entire tunnel even though it was not standing up.

  ‘Has it noticed us?’ Miz-Mag muttered, voice pitch matching their own now the threat was imminent.

  ‘No. It’s lying pretty flat in the tunnel and facing away from us. It might not even be able to turn around.’

  Mickie said, taking his time to make out the shape of the beast. Ziz might have the best vision for distance, but he was superior in the dark. The reason he had failed to notice the monster first was because it was still as a corpse. If Mickie did not know any better he might have thought it dead. The branded man eyed the machine standing nearby.

  ‘How come you didn’t see it?’

  ‘My sensors do not operate well at range in the absence of light.’ It replied simply. Ziz made a smug sound from nearby.

  ‘The gemstone eyes are short sighted? Good to know.’ Miz-Mag whispered.

  ‘I am also unable to see anything with my soul sight.’ Kalistra murmured. ‘I should have expected there to be a distance limitation.’

  ‘We can do more testing later.’ Mickie cut in. ‘Right now, let’s just get past the big guy. It isn’t moving at the moment, but I doubt that’s going to last once we get close.’

  ‘It’s facing the wrong way though, surely we can get by without Big Boom.’ Miz-Mag said hopefully.

  ‘We should have the plan ready just in case.’ Kalistra said, and the little fiend groaned.

  ‘If I am to play a role, then I must understand the plan.’ The machine said, and in response Mickie called upon his gun.

  ‘Alright then, this is how it’s going to go.’ He began, as power started flooding the weapon.

  The beast was almost flat in the tunnel, its two massive legs splayed out behind it and a tumble of arms keeping it propped upright. When Kalistra got close enough to make it out with her new eyes, the gorgon had paled. She had gripped Mickie’s arm and leaned in right beside his ear.

  ‘Something is wrong with its soul. The two halves, they seem to be trying to separate.’

  Mickie had no idea what that might mean, but it did kindle a hope in him that they might pass the beast unseen. It was not to be, however. About twenty meters from the monster’s foot, it finally noticed their presence. A cloven hoof twitched, kicking up a spray of stone that almost reached their position.

  Then the giant groaned, and it was a sound Mickie had yet to hear from the beast. Something filled with pain but absent of anger. Like the weakened bellows of a dying animal. The Minotoncheires shifted sideways, attempting to face them head on, but its bulk got caught in the passage.

  The branded man saw an opening, as by twisting, the beast had moved the nest of limbs at its torso out of their way. He gave the signal, and the robotic bird shot into the air, carrying both Miz-Mag and his supercharged gun. In the absolute darkness their combined light was like a small sun, drawing the beast’s attention as Mickie and the others dashed forward.

  Ziz was too large for the ground opening and took to the air, Gethin the lost mortal flailing from its tail like a banner. The primordial would be more at risk of being seen, but it would also be faster without Mickie and Kalistra upon its back. For their part the branded man and the gorgon glued themselves to one of the walls. They passed the monster’s knees, reached its hip, and were making for the arms when a loud scream signalled Miz-Mag’s fall.

  ‘IF THIS BLOWS ME UP I’LL…’

  The shout died as the demon pulled the trigger on Mickie’s gun, and for an instant, daylight bloomed within the passage. A shockwave punched Mickie in the gut so hard that he tripped onto his knees. Attempting to push himself upright, the branded man stumbled to the side. His hearing was shot, and it was screwing with his equilibrium. Judging by the fact that he was still alive though, Mickie knew Miz-Mag had managed to vanish before getting caught in the blast.

  Using the tunnel wall as a guide he pushed onwards, into the nest of limbs that was now thrashing madly. Whatever the Minotoncheires had been going through, it was apparently not nearly as bad as having a bomb gone off right by its head.

  The branded man tried to keep up with Kalistra as they passed arm after arm and was almost squashed multiple times by errant limbs. Ahead he could see the open air beside the monster’s head, calling to him like an old friend. If Miz-Mag had landed correctly, then that side of the beast should be more or less blind.

  Lights flickered and danced as he closed upon freedom, the machine doing its part to light the way and distract the giant. Kalistra had pushed through and was running for all she was worth. Mickie came free moments later, almost laughing in relief. Beside him the beast’s many heads were a mess of blood, meat and bone. The blast from his gun had been more than effective enough.

  They were clear, the monster would not see them until they were much further up the tunnel, and it would likely be too fixated on the machine to care at that point. That should have been it, except something was wrong, an insistent pain in Mickie’s hand. A fire that sparked suddenly and roared to life, consuming his arm, consuming his soul.

  The branded man realised what was happening a moment before he collapsed to the floor. Without realising it, he had crossed the threshold into the Fifth circle, and now his brand was reacting to the change. Mickie tried to get up, to crawl, to drag himself forward, but his body was locked in a vice of agony.

  A headache so severe it felt it would burst from his skull blurred his vision. Even so, he did not miss the massive hand when it swooped in from overhead. A titanic shadow that engulfed Mickie, scooping him off the floor and lifting him into the air. He could not see his companions, and did not know if they had noticed his fall. All he knew was the pain.

  A part of Mickie realised that if he failed to act, he might die. The Minotoncheires was likely turning his bones to paste at that very moment. He needed to act, to move past the pain as he had in the blood lake. The hollow was waiting for him, as it always was, welcoming him as he dove in.

  The pain did not recede, but the hollow man did. He separated himself from the agony, pushing it away until he could focus. All he could see was a wall of calloused skin, pressed up against his face like an overenthusiastic blanket. There was shouting in the distance, sounds of anger and violence.

  As the hollow man contemplated what he needed to do, the titan jerked him sideways. The movement snapped his right leg at the knee. A reminder that his time was limited, he needed to escape the monster's grasp, or he would die. So, Mickie called forth the black blade. It appeared in his right hand, already embedded within the flesh of the beast.

  Next came the word, bubbling up from his soul even as it was moulded by the brand. The hollow man felt it form in his chest and roll up his throat. He opened his mouth to speak, only to find he could not give the power voice. The Minotoncheires had his head squashed between folds of skin so tight that Mickie could not shift his jaw.

  Anger blossomed in his chest. It was a fury devoid of frustration, as that was an emotion he had removed. The heat of it drove him to thrash and twist, to tear his skin and break his bones. To do anything that would just let him speak the word. Yet no amount of fury was enough, he was no match for the raw might of the titan.

  Even worse was the fact that the agony in his soul was building to a breaking point. It pushed back against the calm, screaming to be let in, beating against the walls of his psyche. The hollow man sank deeper, searching for a solution. That was when the change came. One moment he was swinging through the air, then, with a roar of pain and crack of stone, he and the arm crashed to the ground.

  The hand around him was dead weight now, but even still it resisted his every movement. He was attempting to slice himself free when the pain in his soul roared to a peak, and something tore its way from the top of his head.

  At the same moment, the hollow man twisted his blade and ripped, dragging the glowing edge up the length of the hand. Thick blood coated him as his soul settled and the beast’s skin parted. Mickie cut, twisted, and cut again. He carved the giant’s flesh until he could pull himself from its folds.

  The hollow man tumbled onto the steel and into a scene of chaos. The titan’s heads hung above him, the mangled portion flooding the ground in a gory cascade. Kalistra had hit the Minotoncheries with her power, freeing Mickie and gaining its attention. In its rage, the monster had thrashed about in the tunnel, beating against the walls until they were cracked and leaking water.

  Mickie wanted to rise, to let loose the word that burned in his throat. The Minotoncheries had left him broken however, and distancing himself from the pain would not repair his body. That was fine, because the hollow man had something else that would get him on his feet. He had felt it click into place as its brand finished its changes.

  His healing, broken during his fight with Belphegor, had regained its functionality. Not only that, but it had been changed by the damage inflicted upon it, shaped it into something different. The hollow man called on this newly forged ability, and a torrent of power was siphoned from his soul. It roared through the unseen pathways within him, and Mickie’s body knitted itself together at a visible speed.

  The cost was high, higher than any of his other abilities. He paid it willingly, gave up all the power required for a chance to strike at the beast which had grabbed him. Mickie used everything he had in his soul, then drew it straight from the reserve in his amulet. Even that was beginning to falter by the time he was back on his feet.

  Strangely though, he felt his supply of energy begin to tick back up, far faster than it ever had before. It was drawn through something new, something atop his head. Mickie raised a hand, and felt the resistance of rigid bone. Two horns protruded from his forehead, curling back over his hair as if they had been slicked back.

  It was the newest change wrought by his brand, and the hollow man could not spare the time to dwell upon it. Not with the Minotonchieres raging just above his head. Mickie felt a smile split his face as he squatted low, and launched himself into the air.

  From further up the tunnel there was a shout of alarm as Kalistra and the others noticed him. Mickie paid them no heed as he reached the pulped side of the giant’s head and grasped onto a ragged edge of bone. He brought his blade around not a moment after that, impaling the titan’s flesh. The word burst from his lips with savage abandon as he did.

  ‘TEAR.’

  The power slammed into his enemy’s warped soul, the very same one that was already trying to pull itself apart, and Mickie did not stop there.

  ‘TEAR, TEAR, TEAR.’

  He screamed, impaling the titan with every cry. The Minotoncheries wailed in agony, flailing about so violently that Mickie was launched from its head. He sailed up the tunnel, bouncing off the passage roof before spinning towards the floor. Something feathered caught him before he landed, and a small blast from his healing powers took care of any injuries. The hollow man found Ziz staring down at him, alarmed.

  ‘Mik…’

  He barely heard the word over the sound of screaming. Not just that of the titan, but someone else too. Mickie turned to see the lost mortal Gethin, still wrapped in Ziz’s tail, thrashing like he was on fire. The ragged man was shouting something about an arrival, more of his incessant nonsense.

  ‘Mik.’

  Ziz said again, with a bit more force. The hollow man was as uninterested in what the primordial had to say as he was in what the lost was shouting. Nothing but the beast he had struck could hold sway on him now. Mickie rolled off the primordial’s back, landing low to stare down his enemy.

  The Minotoncheries was thrashing like landed fish, beating itself bloody against the sides of the tunnel. The cracks were now much wider and more frequent, the water they leaked mixing with blood to flood the lower passage.

  Mickie called his blade to his hand and began to stalk forward. He would finish the beast before it got the chance to recover. The hollow man barely got three steps in before something clanked to the ground before him. It was the machine, body dented and warped, with a number of its lights flickering on and off.

  ‘Do not approach. The amalgamation is unravelling.’

  ‘I know.’ Mickie said. ‘Move.’

  He made to step past the robot, but it shifted back in front of him.

  ‘It is dangerous.’

  The desire to kill the machine bubbled up in the hollow man. It was, after all, the spawn of the mechanist. Not only that, but it was likely a spy for his sister, a liability that would do them more harm than good.

  ‘Mickie, stop!’

  Kalistra ran into view and grabbed his arm. Her face was a mask of horror and confusion, and her eyes were glued to the top of Mickie’s head.

  ‘The machine is right, do not approach the Minotoncheires.’

  ‘It is mine.’ Mickie said.

  ‘It is dying. That strike you just made is quite literally unravelling the two halves of its soul.’

  She met his eyes.

  ‘You got it. It is time to stop now.’

  Was it time to stop? The hollow man’s desire told him otherwise. It said that the beast was still breathing, that it might recover and escape. He began to resist Kalistra’s grasp.

  ‘Stop.’ She said, intent, taking a step closer to him. ‘Just come back. Please.’

  Her bronze eyes filled his vision, her free hand coming up to touch his cheek. Mickie’s desire to destroy the beast spluttered, and the hollow about him cracked. Panic, fear, and the memory of agony wormed their way back inside, but they were not alone. There were other emotions, warmer feelings that brought the world back into focus.

  ‘There you are.’

  Kalistra said with a small smile.

  ‘The amalgamation’s soul is changing further. I am detecting something new within.’

  A flat voice cut in from just out of sight. The robot’s words brought the rest of the world crashing back into Mickie. He heard the distinct screams of Gethin, intermingled with a strange, deep heaving sound. It was almost as if something were attempting to throw up. Kalistra started, hand falling from Mickie’s cheek as she turned towards the Minotoncheries.

  ‘Oh, by the blood. It can’t be.’

  She gasped. The branded man leaned past her to find the giant lying flat in the growing flood of water, occasionally twitching as it heaved.

  ‘My sensors do not lie. There is a third.’

  ‘Yes, I see that.’ Kalistra snapped. ‘I just do not see how.’

  ‘I expect the system is at fault.’ The machine noted helpfully.

  ‘Hold on.’ Mickie said, still getting a grasp on his emotions. ‘What’s happening?’

  ‘It’s the Minotoncheires.’ Kalistra said. ‘Its soul is splitting in two, and another soul is coming out. It is as if… as if this soul were trapped within the others.’

  ‘It comes. Oh it comes. Not the words, not the words.’

  The screams of Gethin suddenly made significantly more sense. They watched on in trepidation as the giant gave a massive, back arching shudder, and fell still. Then, like a melon bursting upon hitting the floor, the collection of heads nearest to its crown exploded.

  Two arms reached out from the shower of gore, and the viscera coating them was washed away by water spraying from the walls. The clean skin gleamed golden in the machine’s flickering light.

  The arms forced the hole amid the titans head’s wider, reaching to either side to grasp and pull. Something emerged from the wound. A bald scalp covered in gore, then a pair of shoulders connected to the arms. In moments what appeared to be a man flopped out of the Minotoncheires and into the growing river of water.

  He was taller than any mortal that Mickie had seen, far taller. When the man stood, he almost reached the ceiling of the tunnels. Sections of gold covered his chest, shoulders, the entirety of his left leg, and most strikingly, the bottom half of his head.

  The man’s attention landed on Gethin, who fell immediately silent. Then he shifted to Ziz, the machine, Kalistra, before finally settling on Mickie. His eyes were blue and distinctly human. Within them the branded man saw a writhing sea of fury and mania, so intense that he had to take a step back.

  For a time they simply watched one another, silent but for the crashing of water through the tunnel. The half-golden man seemed to be considering something, and Mickie did not want to do anything that might bring him to a violent conclusion.

  When the man did finally move, it was thankfully, not towards them. He turned towards the cracked walls, and without a word, started breaking a section open further. Water pounded against his body, yet the giant seemed immovable. He tossed rock after rock aside, until finally the hole was half as tall as he was.

  The golden man turned his head slowly, sending another long look at Mickie and his companions. Then he ducked down and walked straight into the hole he had made, through the very water pumping in the opposite direction. A tense silence followed his departure.

  ‘Who the hell was that?’

  The branded man eventually said. The entire time the giant had worked, Mickie’s group had slowly backed up the tunnel. The dead Minotoncheires was acting as a stopper, and they had to move away or risk getting their feet wet.

  ‘I have no idea.’ Kalistra replied, dumbstruck.

  ‘Didn’t you hear me?’

  Someone rasped from behind them. The group turned to find Gethin, looking at them from where he dangled in Ziz’s tail. The lost’s face was haggard and gaunt, but his eyes were lucid.

  ‘I told you, he is the one who speaks the words.’

  As Lucia stepped into the meeting room the low drone of chatter died. She smiled at the sparse occupants, sitting in small clusters along a broad table. Very few returned the gesture.

  The old woman took her spot at the table's head, waiting patiently for her companion to settle down beside her. The Conductor appeared rather comical as it clambered into its chair, yet not a single demon so much as snorted at the grey creature.

  It had been a long few weeks fighting for control of the city, and in that time every demon left alive had learnt to fear the singer's power. Together they had claimed the Eighth circle as their own, just as Lucia had known they would, and now it was time to start the next stage of her plan. She let the fiend about the table wallow in silence for a moment, listening to the now pervasive echo of the Kindle Kins song.

  ‘You are likely wondering why I called you here today.’

  Lucia let the statement hang as her gazed trailed across the room’s occupants. She had once thought demons to be cunning creatures, with guile borne from an ageless existence. While that was certainly the case for some, she had long since discovered that most of hell’s denizens were simple, greedy thugs. Just like those she had already spent a lifetime manipulating.

  Even now she could see the thoughts forming behind their alien visages. Lucia let her attention settle upon the rebellious few, a challenge implicit as she stared them down. It did not take long for one of them to take the bait.

  ‘I'm dying to know.’ A rocky faced demon grumbled. ‘Your last round of gloating felt a little short.’

  Lucia smiled.

  ‘Gloating, was it?’

  ‘What else?’ The fiend sitting beside the first hissed. ‘You stripped us of what was ours and then rubbed our faces in it.’

  ‘What was yours…’ Lucia replied, a thoughtful lilt to the words. ‘I returned from the Seventh to find you all ravaging each other like rabid dogs. What I did was establish order.’

  ‘You. A mortal…’ The rocky demon started, but was cut short by a warning glare from one of its allies. Lucia smiled at the scene, noting their reluctance to insult her. It looked like the past few weeks of stick had done their job, now it was time to offer the carrot.

  ‘I understand.’ She started softly. ‘That you are disappointed with how recent events have transpired within the city. We have never before had a single leader govern, not anyone other than the Sovereign.’

  Technically that was true, but in reality Belphegor had been pulling the strings in the Eighth circle for decades. Her old master had its reasons for avoiding absolute control, just as Lucia now had her own for grasping it.

  ‘I did what I deemed necessary.’ She continued. ‘But do not think that I will deprive you all of the chance to expand.’

  Every set of eyes about the table sharpened. If there was one thing that unified the creatures in this room, it was their greed.

  ‘Before Belphegor died, it started something, a move to push away the real boot against our necks.’

  Lucia smiled at the room full of fiends.

  ‘Mizaraphel has overextended, declaring war upon the living world. Hell is open for the taking, and I think it’s time that we carve out a slice.’

  Some time later, after the meeting was done and Lucia had set her plans into motion, she sat in a chamber atop the spire. One wall of the lushly appointed space was smooth glass, providing an open view of the tiered city below. She was alone but for one figure, the Conductor stood by the large window, looking out as if it still had eyes with which to see.

  ‘Will they follow? The demons appeared interested in the meeting, but attacking the Sovereign is a fool’s endeavor.’

  The Kindle Kin said.

  ‘They will follow. Foolish or not, the demons in that room have always chafed under the Sovereign’s control.’

  She did not mention that she had already made sure any of the wiser and cooler heads had met their untimely end during the recent turmoil.

  ‘And you? Are you sure of this course?’

  ‘You know that I am. The Sovereign will never allow for split authority. We cannot hold the city, not after what Belphegor started on the Seventh.’

  It was the most critical error the fiend had ever made, and one that most powerful demons seemed fond of. Overestimating themselves. Lucia had met the Mizaraphel, had felt its power. She had no illusions her measly forces could stand against the Sovereign’s might.

  ‘A shame.’ The Conductor made a hum that was closer to a sigh. ‘And you are sure of Limbo?’

  ‘I am. If we want to disappear anywhere, then the First circle is the place to do it. The demons will help us carve a path through the army.’

  Lucia said with certainty.

  ‘I understand the plan, and your logic behind it.’ The Kindle Kin responded softly. ‘What I question is your motives. Your words say one thing, yet your song indicates otherwise.’

  The old woman stiffened in her chair as the Conductor continued.

  ‘Do not fear, I am not like those of this city. I will not abuse what is made clear to me through another’s song. I feel the need to warn you, however.’

  Lucia rose from her chair, preparing to leave the room. It had been so very long since someone caught her off guard like this, and this was one topic she did not wish to cover. The Conductor continued all the same.

  ‘Some journeys are meant to be taken. We should not interfere.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  Lucia snapped.

  ‘If that was everything, I have a city full of demons to manage.’

  She started for the door.

  ‘You know the plan, make sure the Kindle Kin is ready.’

  It was likely not wise to boss the old singer around like that, but the Conductor did not seem to mind. It continued to look out the window with eyes that could not see, an amused hum following Lucia out of the room and into the spire.