The Island, part 4

"I shall give you one more chance, children," Succor-Beleth said, its voice a choir of perfection.

A tear rolled down Alex's cheek. The Crone Mother's tongue stretched out of her mouth to taste it.

"Kneel before me, and I shall allow you to live in absolute paradise. No thirst unquenched. No hunger unsated. Defy me, and this island shall become your tomb," Succor-Beleth concluded.

His four wings hummed with energy, and he began to levitate.

Bruce scratched the back of his head, then reached into a compartment built into his wrist. After a moment, he produced another cigar, his last. The Knight-Captain bit the end clean off, lit it with a piece of flaming wreckage, and then took a mighty puff.

Gleaming in the moonlight, the orange glow of the burning island reflecting off of his metal hide, Bruce took a moment for himself. He stared at the god-like entity before him with eyes of magic technology and wondered if it could satisfy the hole in his soul.

The demon's eyebrows narrowed. Bruce exhaled a cloud of smoke and sighed.

"You know, the last guy who told me to kneel before him killed me," Bruce said. He sounded weary. "Death is a huge hassle. Coming back, even more so. I became this so that when I stood in front of the next guy telling me to kneel, I could punch a fuckin' hole through his head."

The angelic demon snarled.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. That's so," Bruce growled.

With a deafening roar, Succor-Beleth unleashed cosmic brilliance. His eyes shone like supernovas in his skull, and a beam of heavenly light screamed from his perfect lips.

"Shield!" Bruce yelled.

His magical, machine body reacted instinctively. Bruce dropped to a knee and felt his heavy leg anchor into the soft sand. At the same time, a shield of shimmering crimson energy burst into existence around his left arm, and he raised it, just as the wave of annihilation hit.

A brilliant explosion lit the night up like it was noon. Bruce felt the weight of eons behind the death ray, the burning, endless hatred for something deeper and older than he could properly fathom. The shield bit and screamed, sizzling against the seemingly inexhaustible attack.

"Get behind me!" Bruce yelled over his shoulder.

He didn't have time to track Alex's movements. Vampires as a species were highly susceptible to fire, and this was closer to weaponized sunlight. Bruce could only hope that she could hear him over the deafening crackle of the beam against his shield. Despite his tremendous weight, he was losing ground.

All of a sudden there was a hand on his back, small, but powerful. Bruce smiled. He didn't know why, exactly, but the knowledge that Alex was safe meant everything to him right now.

With a scream of frustration, Succor-Beleth cut the flow of power, and darkness crept tenderly back over the island.

Bruce's metal body smoked. Steam hissed from exhaust vents that opened along his chest and shoulders. The cigar was gone, turned to ash, and whisked away on winds of fire.

"Bruce!" Alex said, her accent thick with concern.

His back was cool to her touch, but most of his body was red and glowing. His hastily conjured energy shield had absorbed much of the killing ray, but there had been backlash. Nothing at all remained of the false skin Bruce had worn. He was a metal man that housed a human heart, as naked as the Blood-Borgs that stalked the compound of IX.

"Hey, kid," Bruce answered, at last.

He rose slowly. His machine body whirred and groaned. Glowing runes flickered behind his shoulder blades, and Alex could see a second bar of pulsing blue light flashing in his spine.

Bruce turned to inspect Alex. She looked unharmed. A cloak of shadows hung about her shoulders, obscuring most of her from view. Her expressive, dark eyes looked up at him, and they brimmed with blood.

"You're hurt," Alex said simply.

She didn't know what to do. Her eldritch passenger was quiet, and Alex felt out of her league. She was a Field-Commander for an organization that used vampires to hunt vampires. Her powers could be utilized to great effect on humans, and she'd trained to fight other supernatural creatures, but Succor-Beleth was something else entirely.

A flash of movement caught her eye, and together, she and Bruce whirled around just in time to see a second screaming wave of light barreling their way.

"Behind me!" Bruce hollered.

Alex dipped behind the Knight-Captains massive metal shoulders as he dropped to a knee again, pulsing shield at the ready. The world around her turned white as searing flame scorched the island. It took all of her willpower not to lose control. The fear radiating through her was almost mind-numbing. A single step to either side of the shield, and she would be nothing more than a memory.

There was a loud cracking sound, and a piece of Bruce's shoulder blew off, turned to ash in seconds. Still, Bruce held the shield, his metal face determined.

Enraged, Succor-Beleth cut the flow of divine power, and the beam of screaming light faded away. The apocalyptic entity gently pumped its wings and began to glide toward them.

Alex crept from behind Bruce. His body glowed red and he sizzled as he cooled. Though he had the mind and soul of a man, to Alex, Bruce looked like a machine, something from a nineties sci-fi movie. The light in his eyes flickered and went dark, and Alex couldn't tell if Bruce was still with her. The crimson energy shield splintered into fragments and disintegrated, and the Knight-Captain sagged a bit in the sand.

"Bruce?" Alex whispered.

Suddenly the second bar on Bruce's spine flashed, and his eyes came on in a surge. Light spread across his metal frame like veins, and Alex watched in amazement as Bruce's wondrous body began to absorb the residual heavenly energy. A subtle hum, like a powerful engine vibrating to life, graced Alex's ears. She could hear the shifting of gears and the rumble of modular parts within Bruce's mighty war frame.

Hope fluttered in Alex's dead heart.

She took a step back as Bruce planted his feet in the smoldering sand, shoulder-width apart. From his chest, bristling with power, emerged a cannon of meteoric design. It looked to Alex like a comic book weapon, impossibly large and unreasonably ornate. It glowed with runes that Alex could not recognize and shone in the night like a spotlight.

Bruce gripped the cannon two-handed. His body began to pulse, feeding the weapon energy, and Bruce aimed it at the demon lord.

Succor-Beleth paused. It eyed the gun warily, unsure of its design or power, then smiled like the accommodating hotel manager it had been.

"Hmm. That could be interesting," Succor-Beleth crooned, its voice strangely perfect.

Bruce growled deep within his metal shell. Next to him, Alex grit her teeth, her posture low and hidden.

Bruce set his heavy fingers on the dual triggers.

"Here," He said. "Let me get you a sample."

Before Succor-Beleth could respond, the cannon bucked, and a stream of jagged black lightning burst from the barrel.

Alex whooped, the sound pulled from her, as the demon's eyes widened. It had only a moment to raise one of its arms before the lightning tore into it with a deafening crack. Blinding light cascaded from the explosion, followed by darkness as it took back the night voraciously. In the silence that followed, Alex looked up at Bruce.

"Is...it over?" the young vampire asked.

Bruce didn't answer. His Ashtech eyes peered deep into the gloom. Dozens of energy readings flashed across his HUD. One of them pulsed steadily.

"No," Bruce said at last. "I don't think it is."

From the smoke and dust, Succor-Beleth emerged. It held the black lightning in one hand, dancing it over its fingers like a performer might a coin. Its wings pumped, and it began to glide toward the two knights. Above its head, spiraling at an angle, its wicked black halo shone.

"I was a GOD, you impotent fools!" Succor-Beleth decreed, its advance inexorable. Beautiful music sounded behind him, and a choir of angels echoed his words. "Worshipped and cursed, decreed and remade in the image of mankind's damnation. Stripped of divinity, but granted rank, and spat the great lie "better to reign in Hell."

Succor-Beleth tossed the black lightning into the sky where it crackled and vanished, its burning eyes centered squarely on Alex and Bruce. Despite the darkness centered around her, it could see her.

Doubt began to creep through the heart of Alex Kyznetsov. How many forms could such a creature have? If they carved through this one, would another be waiting beneath, an endless parade of Russian nesting dolls?

A thought occurred to Alex as she looked between Bruce and the approaching lord of Hell. She could call for backup! She could call for IX! Surely Ashcroft knew how to handle such a creature. He would know what to do.

Just then she heard a crackling noise in her ear and reached a finger to the communication device nestled there. There was a strange droning sound, like the crying of hundreds of thousands of tiny insects, and then a familiar voice came through, loud and clear.

"Hey, Commander, Dakota here. Just wanted to say, you got this! Show '''em' what it means to be IX!"

Alex put a hand to her mouth and choked back a slight sob. Her eyes misted with blood, and a sad smile graced her dark lips.

"Dakota..." Alex whispered, grateful to hear the voice of her family.

The big man's voice was deep and caring, and Alex found herself nodding to his words. She gripped her blessed combat knife tight and centered her sharp, blue eyes on the angelic monster striding towards her.

Another voice crackled in, this one softer, sweeter, the allure of darkness heavy about her words.

"You're not alone, dear commander. We are with you, always," Peyton said.

A shifting, a pause of static, another voice.

"I believe in you, Alex," Karou said.

Succor-Beleth slowed and came to a stop some ten yards away from the two Knights Its burning gaze swept back and forth between Bruce and Alex.

"Come on," Bruce grumbled, raising his mighty fists. "Come and get some."

Alex took a step back and planted her feet in the sand. She exhaled her nerves and closed her eyes against the demon's withering gaze. Another sound of static.

"You're the best of us, Alex," Maurice said. "You can do this."

"But what if I can't?" Alex whispered, clinging to the sound of Maurice's kind voice. "This thing...It's not like anything I have ever faced."

"You can," Maurice said, projecting strength. "I know you can. We all do."

There was a soft pause, and an electric whine, and then a dark, almost cruel voice crept through her ear.

"The team is with you, Field Commander Kyznetsov. Make us proud," Markus Ashcroft said.

A single, bloody tear rolled down Alex's cheek as the transmission ended. The words of her comrades echoed in her mind, filling her heart with strength. She exhaled her nerves and stilled her shaking body. Reinvigoration flowed through her.

A second later, an explosion rocked the night as Bruce and Succor-Beleth collided.

Sand and wind blasted Alex, cutting her skin and tearing at her leather outfit. Encased in darkness, she watched as the Knight-Captain delivered blow after blow, sturdy shots to the demon's temple and ribs, to no effect. Succor-Beleth laughed, and with a vicious backhand, slapped Bruce into the dirt at his feet. A plume of dust marked the Knight-Captain's location.

Alex gasped, and the demon's burning gaze found her. She could feel her cloak of shadows peeling back against its searing eyes. It smiled with an expression of purest love, and then began to glide towards her, leaving Bruce depleted behind him.

"Crone Mother," Alex whispered, clutching her heart.

An ancient soul rumbled within her, and Alex knew her eldritch partner was with her.

"Help," Alex said simply, baring her soul. "I need you."

The black cavity in her spirit smiled wide, and Alex felt something old and hungry take hold of her mind. The world faded away, replaced by another, and Alex found herself standing in a dark and ancient forest, surrounded by mist. The Island was gone and with it Succor-Beleth. A sense of timelessness settled into her, and Alex found herself calming, quieting.

Before Alex, emerging from the clinging fog of the black forest, stalked the Crone Mother, Baba-Yaga. She was taller than Bruce and immeasurably powerful, despite her feeble appearance. Long, white hair dangled in knots around her weathered face, measuring to her lower back, and spiders crawled from her matronly smile. Her blind eyes radiated wisdom, and she beckoned to Alex with mangled, crooked claws.

"My child, my dear, sweet Alexandra," The Crone Mother whispered.

Her voice was the breath of the world and it caressed Alex's cooling skin. The dark woods felt almost like a blanket, and Alex knew she could get lost in such eldritch tranquility.

"Crone Mother," Alex replied. "The one I face, it will not die! I cannot harm it, but it can turn me to ash with a thought. I-"

She was there suddenly, one hand on Alex's trembling lips. The Crone Mother took the young vampire's hands in her own and caressed them, applying reassuring pressure. Slowly, deliberately, the eldritch being bent low and kissed them before raising her blind eyes to Alex.

"Open yourself to me," Baba-Yaga whispered.

Alex nodded. She didn't know precisely what to do, but the Crone Mother had chosen her for a reason. Of all the vampires who'd come across the timeless entity, only Alex had been worthy. Only Alex. She held onto that and closed her eyes, welcoming whatever gifts Baba-Yaga would give.

She could feel the Crone Mother smile. From the spot where she had kissed Alex, power spread, seeping into the vampire's skin, and settling deep into her bones. A rush of adrenaline flooded through Alex and she shook in her dark matron's grasp.

"Crone Mother!" Alex gasped, gritting her teeth. "It hurts!"

Alex's muscles felt like they were being supercharged. Her entire body trembled as the might of giants settled into her blood.

"Hush," Baba-Yaga whispered, calming the frenzy building in the vampire's mind.

Visions flashed before Alex's eyes- scenes of lush forests and timeless glades, a bird's eye view of the world as it might have been once. A savage paradise, when man was young and gods were new. She saw the Crone Mother, wild and free, young and beautiful; a naked nymph that danced across the face of the earth, singing the true names of all things, and commanding them, as was her right.

Alex opened her eyes. The blind gaze of Baba-Yaga peered into her, and Alex felt her trembling subside. She felt more alive than she'd ever felt, and powerful, so unreasonably powerful.

"Dark Mother?" Alex asked.

Baba-Yaga smiled. She looked weathered and worn, bereft of the might she'd exuded a moment ago.

"Do you feel that, child? That power?" Baba-Yaga asked.

The world around them flickered, and Alex thought she saw a flash of fire in the distance. The smoky dusk of the forest obscured it.

Alex nodded, flexing. She felt like she could outlift Dakota- like she could uproot trees and throw them like missiles. It was a heady, intoxicating power, and Alex could hardly believe it was hers.

"The power flooding through you now was old when the world was young, and Succor-Beleth was not yet a spark in his creator's eye," Baba-Yaga said, her voice fading with each word. "Use it."

Then she was gone, and with it, the dark forest. The island came into hazy focus, shimmering like a mirage, and Alex shook her head, clearing the last of the eldritch fog around her senses.

Bruce was down. His body sparked, and black plumes of smoke cascaded from his shoulders. Succor-Beleth hovered over his prone body, eyes blazing white.

"Demon," Alex said, her accent thick.

With something akin to disgust, Alex dropped her combat knives. Her claws felt like steel and power surged through her, strengthening her undead body to new, dazzling heights.

Succor-Beleth turned his head, but Alex was already in motion; a blur of darkness, tearing across the sand. Alex had been fast, and by calling upon the innate prowess of her vampiric blood, she could outpace race cars, but this was something else. The world looked frozen to her. Succor-Beleth's response to her emergence was comically sluggish, and Alex was able to take in the demon lord's furious expression as it formed.

Baba-Yaga was with her, a second shadow, traveling at the speed of dark. In a whisp of sand and shadow, Alex appeared before the demon, a sweet smile on her pale face. She had the power to put this thing down. It was her responsibility to defend Bruce now. No more hiding in the night.

Succor-Beleth's blazing eyes widened in horror as Alex's claws shot up, faster than the demon lord could follow. Left, then right. A spray of fiery, black blood trailed from Alex's claws, forming a cross in the air.

The blood sparkled and popped, effervescent in the moonlight, and Succor-Beleth's hands went to its gauged throat. Alex was faster. She twirled like a dancer, crouching low, then rose with flourish, splitting the demon from its belly to chin. Her hands touched his for but a second, and then she dashed away, flipping through the air as though it were her playground.

The wind carried her, treating her like its own, and Alex hit the scorched earth in a feral crouch. The long, black tongue of Baba-Yaga flecked between her lips and then retreated. Her power, ancient though it may be, was not inexhaustible, and it bled from Alex, ebbing away like the tide. The shadows dripped from her eyes like tears, but the damage was done. Proud, Alex surveyed her work.

The demon lord, stunned, stumbled back. It pressed weak hands to its neck and spoke words in a language more beautiful than any Alex had ever heard. Light, brilliant and soft, poured from its hands, sinking deep into its brutalized neck. Beneath, rough scar tissue began to form. The demon's angelic body was healing.

Alex could feel the ancient power fading from her. The ability to tear the demon's body as though it were paper dripped away, leaving her weakened and weary.

Defiance built in the soul of the young vampire. Fed the kindling of abuse, her anger roiled to a pyre, and she rose from her crouch, ready to face down the unearthly being.

"You...dare!" Succor-Beleth whispered, its choir voice returning to him.

"I do," Alex answered, her voice hard and strong. "You don't belong in this world."

In a flash of light, Succor-Beleth's wings pumped down and the enormous demon shot into the air. Its eyes were twin stars in the night sky, shining with malevolence.

"That is not for you to decide!" Succor-Beleth screamed.

Behind Alex, the mob waited, a shuffling horde of victims whose bodies had long since expired. Only the will of the demon lord kept them moving, drawn to his radiance like moths to a flame.

Before Alex could assess her next move, Succor-Beleth struck. Tearing from his eyes, empowered by his scream, sunlight shot towards Alex; a searing beam of death meant to wipe her from existence.

The night called to Alex, and she answered, reaching out for the cool shadows that waited to spirit her to safety. She dipped into the patient darkness, but the beam adjusted, angling in the air violently before rocketing directly to her.

Alex cursed, unable to get out of the way in time. Her eyes lit up with fear as death came for her. A cry sounded in her ear, but she could hardly hear it. Everything was in slow motion. She closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable release into ashes a moment later.

Instead, the sound of screaming metal graced her ears, and she opened her eyes to the welcome sight of Bruce's mighty back, his crimson shield sparking with unnatural energy.

"Bruce..." Alex whispered.

The heat was immense. It burned the blood tears forming in Alex's eyes, and she hissed, unable to contain the predator within. Bruce shifted his weight as the endless beam of light cracked through a chunk of his energy shield. It held, wavering, and Bruce ground his teeth, growling.

"You ok, kid?!" Bruce hollered over his shoulder. "You pissed him off, real good!"

"I thought you were dead!" Alex answered.

"Just resting!" Bruce yelled.

With a roar of frustration, Succor-Beleth cut the beam of light. Its energy lingered like an explosion in the night sky as it swept its gaze over the island.

Alex stepped to Bruce's side as the big man lowered the energy shield. His arm fizzled and sparked.

"Shield's gone," Bruce said with a sigh. "Should have gone all out from the start. Bastard's crazy energy is playing haywire with my systems."

Together, the two Sanguine Knights looked up at the burning demon.

"What are you saying?" Alex asked.

There was nothing left of Bruce's false skin. His metallic body glowed a wicked silver in the firelight. Alex was talking to a machine with the soul of a man. A good man.

"Not saying nothing," Bruce answered gruffly. "You won't find any quit in me."

Alex watched the demon in the sky. It gestured lovingly to the island, and slowly, Alex turned, horrified.

The trapped inhabitants of Avalon stumbled forward. A sickly, yellow glow flickered in their eyes like muted fire, and they gazed up at the angelic demon with expressions of pure love. It raised its arms to them, and they did the same, reaching out for that which they could not possibly fathom.

"I did not want it to come to this," Succor-Beleth cried as he reached for his flock. "This was to be a paradise! The second coming of Eden!"

"Hail Beleth!" The shambling horde mumbled, their energy weak and depleted. "Ave Succor-Beleth! Regie Succor-Beleth! Hail Succor-Beleth!"

"Fucking demons," Bruce grumbled. He put a hand to his ear and contacted Sanguine Headquarters.

"Control, my systems are trashed. I'll need to access more fuel cells to heal and continue. The entity is definitely a class-S threat. I'll need to go all out."

There was a bit of static, and then a male voice, cold and familiar filled his head.

"No need for all that, Bruce. I'll take it from here," Markus Ashcroft said with an audible smile.

Bruce shivered and looked at Alex. She was staring at the approaching mob of half-dead humans, their eyes aglow with spectral energy. With a growl, Bruce ended the call and followed her gaze.

The energy flaring in the eyes of the humans was not mana as Bruce understood it, nor something tangible and conducive, like electricity. This was something else, something cultivated, and as Succor-Beleth reached for the inhabitants of the island, it bled from their eyes, cascading through the night sky in thick streams of light.

"ABOMINATIONS!" Succor-Beleth roared, pointing down at Alex and Bruce.

His powerful body swelled with light as it fed into him, and even at such a distance it radiated terrible heat. Alex's skin itched and her eyes hurt. She knew that if that light was to touch her, it would mean instant death. Her heart pounded with fear and determination, but she was low on power. Even Bruce was struggling, and he was the most magnificent thing she'd ever seen.

Succor-Beleth flared like a miniature sun in the night sky. Its eyes were stars, its mouth a snarling furnace.

"Little Knights! Since you will not die quietly, I am forced to make an example of you! Let it be known that what follows is divine retribution for mortal interference, mutates and monsters alike!" Succor-Beleth called, flaring brighter than ever before.

Alex wanted to look away. Every cell in her undead body called for her to run. Her dark matron, tired as she was, clawed at her skin from within, urging her to run from the light and dig deep into the soil, down in the dark and damp where the Crone Mother could protect her.

Instead, Alex gazed, transfixed, at the closest thing to sunlight her eyes might ever see again. Tears of blood streamed down her cheeks. Her lips quivered, her expression caught between awe and intrinsic, bestial terror.

"Embrace oblivion!" Succor-Beleth roared.

There was a flash of blinding light. Alex opened her mouth to scream, but the sound was drowned in a hellish vacuum, then blown away entirely as the island of Avalon began to crumble. Noise resumed suddenly in a crashing wave. The sound of cracking, breaking earth, and churning sea water usurped everything as the ephemeral light the demon gathered became an explosion, tearing apart existence before it.

Bruce had maybe a second to move. He hollered something incomprehensible and his body responded. Whirling engines burst from the Knight-Captain's back and a magical azure blaze rocketed him forward. He snatched Alex to his chest like a child and made for the central road, but the explosion was too far-reaching.

Where it struck, reality faltered, and Bruce knew what he had to do. With his remaining strength, the Knight-Captain peeled Alex from his arms and hurled her into the darkened cluster of trees in the distance. Her wide eyes locked on his for a second, and he smiled a blackened titanium grin.

"No..." Alex mouthed.

White light obliterated the tip of the island, rending it violently from existence. One minute, it was there, a paradisical beachfront dotted with flickering bonfires- the next there were only crashing waves, and a flock of wavering mortals lining a cliffside.

Alex hit the ground hard and rolled to a stop, her feet already digging into the soft earth for purchase.

"Crone Mother! Is he...?"

No answer came from Alex's dark passenger, and she rushed from the darkness of the trees, back to the main road and the sudden, newly formed beachfront. There, she saw Bruce, or what remained of him. He was surrounded by the inhabitants of the island, though they paid him no mind. One arm clung to the road, his metal fingers embedded deep in the concrete- the other, his shield arm, was gone, erased in Succor-Beleth's attack.

Without hesitation, Alex ran to his side, pushing past the mob of damaged and weary onlookers. It took all of her strength to pull Bruce's heavy body back to stable ground. When she did, she could hardly believe the damage. Half of his metal face was gone, and both of his legs were badly damaged. Somehow, miraculously, he was still alive.

"No," Alex whispered, looking over Bruce. Her eyes went to the strange golden star in the night sky. "I can't do this on my own, Bruce. You have to get up!"

Bruce raised a burnt pointer finger to his mouth as if to tell her to shush.

"Been transmitting this whole time," The Knight-Captain said weakly. "It's got a weakness. Got a few."

Alex looked heartbroken. Baba-Yaga was quiet in her soul, projecting strength and calm, but Alex could hardly feel it. The presence of the shining demon in the sky created rampant insecurity in the young vampire's mind, and she groaned low, as if in pain. Her thoughts were turbulent.

There was no one left to take this mission. What did weaknesses matter when Succor-Beleth could erase the world with his eyes? Like the other Sanguine Knights chosen before her, like those black-clad bodies in that horrible little church, Alex was going to fail.

Suddenly, Bruce took her small hand in his. His metal body was still warm from the explosion. His ambient, electronic eyes locked onto hers, and Alex felt her nerves steel.

"Not alone, kid," Bruce said. He took her hand and pointed up, past the dark deity pulsing against the stars. "Never alone."

Alex strained her eyes. There, against the backdrop of night, a dark figure flitted, falling from the heavens, guided by the wind. A jet blasted over the island, a dark shadow against the false, midnight sun, and Alex felt hope kindle in her heart.

The figure spiraled, glistening in silver and gold, and something flashed in its hands, becoming a spear that trailed a shock of crimson behind. In a silent explosion of force, the figure drilled down into the glowing demon, driving Succor-Beleth into the frothing sea.

Alex whooped, jumping to her feet. Around the smoking island, the ocean began to churn as if experiencing a violent chemical reaction. Bruce climbed to a knee.

"Who?" Alex asked. "How?"

"The larger the demon, the bigger the ban," Bruce explained, gesturing. "Succor-Beleth took a whole island. He embedded himself in the earth, and the people here, and with that, his ban formed. He couldn't, and wouldn't, directly harm the inhabitants of Avalon, nor could he immerse himself fully in salt water so long as he remained tethered to the island."

Alex nodded, her gaze fixed on the roiling ocean. It churned like a furious entity, thrashing the brutalized shoreline. Waves rose and crashed, collapsing upon themselves as if they wished to bury the malicious presence they now housed.

Underwater booms shook the island. Alex could feel them in her bones. The reverberations scattered the sand at her feet and each muted crash caused her dead heart to flutter.

Slowly, Bruce climbed to his feet. His legs were badly damaged, and the Knight-Captain doubted that he could run, but he could walk, and right now, that was enough. Alex offered her arm for support and Bruce took it. Despite her small frame, Alex was strong, and Bruce found himself leaning his weight on another person for the first time since the incident. Despite feeling self-conscious, Bruce had to admit, it felt good.

Alex stared at the roiling ocean. Her thoughts replayed the figure falling through the sky; a shining spear aimed at the heart of the demon.

'Spear of silver and gold. Shock of red in the air behind, like blood..." Alex thought.

She shivered reflexively in the night air. Could it be?

Suddenly the writhing ocean parted as if split from beneath by immeasurable force, and a lithe figure shot into the air, twirling as if gravity held no meaning for them.

"Maurice!" Alex yelled, her eyes flashing crimson with joy.

The spiraling warrior landed silently before Alex and Bruce, and rose, leveling confident, purple-red eyes at the Knight-Captain. He was a vampire, like Alex, but unique in the way he worked the blood. His body was strong and athletic, but his features were young, his face boyish to the elder Bruce.

Maurice twirled his spear and the metal shifted, collapsing into itself with an almost liquid quality until it was only a golden pole, no more than three feet long. He snapped it into a holster on his back and brushed the seaweed from his black leather outfit. The male vampire was lean, with rugged black hair and hard eyes. Despite his tough features, Maurice projected a quiet aura of strength and calm,

Bruce noted the stylish similarities between the two vampires and smiled, feeling surprisingly at ease amongst the blood-sucking undead.

Before he could say a word, Alex and Maurice embraced. The Knight-Captain took a step back, allowing them room, and they pressed into one another. Alex shuddered with relief, and Maurice took it, absorbing her emotions and squeezing her tight.

"It's ok," Maurice whispered, brushing matted, bloody hair from her face. "It's over."

Bruce narrowed his eyes. The ocean bubbled maliciously, and an ugly red hue shone from beneath the waves.

"Look alive," Bruce commanded. "It ain't over."

No sooner had he said the words, the ocean exploded in a shower of froth and crackling electricity. The waves swirled in a turbine, and there, trapped on the ocean floor, bleeding essence and screaming, lay Succor-Beleth. The demon's perfect body rippled and shifted, torn apart by forces beyond its control. Pressed to all fours, the swirling saltwater tore him apart, revealing an empty black husk that spilled forth darkness.

Beneath the demon, the rocks and sand shifted, taking the shape of ancient, eldritch runes that even Bruce's Ashtech eyes struggled to read. Piece by piece, a pentacle formed, glowing with power from beyond this realm. Succor-Beleth howled, his words drifting into languages long dead and dialects forgotten.

There was a strange beauty to his suffering, though horrific to behold. The sight of the infernal noble, breaking away, bit by bit, brought to mind the old tales, of the world as it had been once- when demons and angels cavorted across the face of the earth. The three Sanguine Knights stood spellbound, powerless to tear away from the sight before them.

With a cavernous yawn, the ocean floor opened and swallowed the writhing demon lord, and the waves cascaded upon the whole as if to close the wound. In seconds, Succor-Beleth was gone, pressed down into the world and far from this realm.

Around them, the island shuddered, as if relieved. Hundreds of voices filled the air suddenly, and Bruce turned around to see the residents of Avalon lift their heads to the sky as one and begin to convulse. Acrid black smoke poured from their open mouths until, in droves, they collapsed, dead at last.

Alex stood close to Maurice, one hand on his arm. She watched the procession of death with tired eyes.

"Now it's over," Bruce said with a sad smile.

His metal face creaked with the expression.

"You came all the way from the compound?" Alex asked, turning into Maurice. She looked back at Bruce. "Did you call him?"

Bruce looked sheepish.

"Actually, uh, they called me," Bruce said, pointing.

Alex followed his gaze and found seven silhouettes dotting the smoldering beachfront. One, a giant of a man that Alex immediately recognized as Dakota, raised a hand and waved. In the center, arms crossed, black leather jacket whipping gently in the late night breeze, was Dr. Markus Ashcroft.

"Nine," Alex breathed.

A smile broke across her face and together, Alex and Maurice raised their hands, thumbs entwined, fingers splayed to form wings. The two entwined thumbs formed a single digit, and Bruce smiled, counting nine visible digits total.

'A hand sign,' Bruce thought. 'How corny.'

The Knight-Captain could not help but smile as the seven other members of IX lifted their arms in unison and returned the salute, a unanimous, silent show of support for their Field Commander. Memories of the Sanguis Custodes, his Sanguine Knights, flooded through him, and with them, a feeling of longing that Bruce hadn't realized he still possessed.

Alex stepped from Maurice's side, hand extended, and Bruce took it. He felt somewhat exposed without skin but resolved to fix that as soon as he could.

"You are amazing," Alex said. "I have met few individuals who can fight like you."

Bruce grinned. He could really go for a cigar right about now.

"Don't sell yourself short. You and your...dark ally are a force to be reckoned with. I couldn't have done this without you. Your team. They, uh, they're pretty amazing too," Bruce said.

The Knight-Captain looked over at Maurice. Alex nodded, and Bruce stepped to him, plunging the smaller warrior into shadow. He extended his hand.

"Thank you for coming," Bruce said. "I can tell she means a lot to you."

Maurice looked past Bruce before answering.

"She means everything to me," He said, his eyes hard. They softened. "But Ashcroft showed me how you protected her. Over and over, body as a shield."

Maurice took Bruce's metal hand in his and shook it.

"My friends call me Shao-Pahn," He said with a wry smile. "Let's spar sometime."

Bruce grinned back.

"It would be my genuine pleasure," He said.

Around them, the world shimmered, and Sanguine Infomancers appeared, manifesting from the spectral shadows of twilight like the phantasms they were. The agents of darkness glided past the Sanguine Knights towards Avalon Resort, pausing to take stock of their surroundings with eyes that could manipulate reality.

"What's all that?" Maurice asked.

"Crowd control," Bruce answered, following the vampire's gaze with a scowl. "Lot of bodies to pick up. Lot of stories to weave. The truth is what we make it. The world isn't what the normies think it is. You know how it goes. Men in black."

One of the agents, a spellcaster wearing a black and green suit and sunglasses the color of forest ivy, approached cautiously.

"Headquarters would like to issue commendations for your tremendous work here this evening," He began politely. "Knight-Captain, please report for debriefing and medical diagnostics at your earliest convenience. Miss Kyznetsov, we have agents on standby ready to teleport you anywhere you wish in the world. How may we be of service?"

Alex looked deep into Maurice's eyes. The two of them shared a moment with words unspoken, their vampiric bodies eerily still. Then Alex turned to the agent.

"Tend to your Knight-Captain," Alex said. "I think I have had my fill of madness and rotten blood for the evening. My companions await."

"Our ride's nearby," Maurice said, offering his arm.

Alex took it, and with a nod to Bruce, began the slow walk down the beach, towards the waiting members of IX. She felt lighter, despite the trauma of the island; more sure of herself. Her relationship with the Crone Mother felt more natural, their connection having been strengthened through hardship.

"Alex!" Bruce called out.

The Field Commander paused, a step away from joining with her coterie of vampires.

"You sure you don't want to join the team, slay more devils?" Bruce offered.

Alex glanced at Maurice, then down at her twin shadow. She looked back at IX. Dakota and Peyton smiled at her, their expressions dark but supportive. Nearby, Aston Voltani nodded sagely. One hand rested on the sword at his waist. Vincent Valeria, the child vampire, giggled at Alex from a nearby tree, no more than a pair of scarlet eyes in the dark. Camille and Karou held hands, while Maurice spoke softly with Markus Ashcroft about the heft and balance of his shifting weapon.

"I appreciate the offer, Bruce, but no thank you," Alex called back. "I already have a team, and we still have a job to do."

Bruce nodded and sighed, exhaling air in a hydraulic hiss.

The nine vampires vanished into the thick darkness of the trees, no more than a whisper on the wind. A few moments later, a black jet crested over the island and shot into the clouds, disappearing behind sight and to Bruce's amazement, from satellite detection.

The agent next to Bruce cleared his throat, and the Knight-Captain lowered his eyebrows with a heavy clang.

"You got something to say?" Bruce growled.

The agent gawked and looked visibly perturbed. He adjusted his glasses and mumbled something about command.

"I'm calling 'em!" Bruce shot. He put two fingers to his temple and glared at the mage, who began to sweat. "Control. This is Knight-Captain."

Bruce felt a strange sensation in his mind, like someone caressing the inside of his metal shell, and recognized Charlotte Sanguine's voice.

"You did good, Bruce. The Island is in cleanup. Another successful mission," Charlotte said. She paused, her smile audible. "Towerbane is waiting for your report, and I've word that Ashcroft and Manix are on standby to repair your body."

Bruce didn't say anything. The carnage around him was vanishing before his very eyes. Reality warped and distorted. Sand rose from the ocean and hardened into the earth, rebuilding the island to the exact measure it had been hours before. Bodies disappeared in droves, never to be seen again. Reasons for their disappearances were being crafted all around him.

It was too much for the weary human soul in Bruce, and no words tumbled from his metal lips. On the other end of the line, Charlotte Sanguine nodded.

"I can feel you, Bruce. Take the rest of the night off. I'll expect you in the morning."

The connection ended, and Bruce turned on the agent.

"I-I can take you anywhere you'd like to go!" He squeaked, looking suddenly very small. "How may I be of service?"

A few moments later, Bruce waved away a puff of emerald smoke, and the rickety after-effects of teleportation, and looked around. He was in a dimly lit bar, far from the prying eyes of the public and decidedly underground. A mirrored wall of drinks and fancy bottles shimmered like starlight behind a bar counter. On a nearby brick wall, flashing in a stylish neon script, were the words 'Los Noches.'

"Home sweet home," Bruce grumbled as he strode up to one of the many empty bar stools and took a seat.

"Bruce Carowitz, as I live and fuck," A gravelly voice sounded from behind the counter.

From the depths of Los Noches, a monster emerged, with bluish-gray skin and eyes that blazed with friendliness. He towered over Bruce and rested one massive arm on the counter. His body was covered in lacerations that were closing right before Bruce's eyes, and he was naked save for a codpiece of chains and some decorative lengths around his neck and massive chest.

To Bruce, the giant was the most welcome sight in the world.

"Azul," Bruce said with a laugh. "It's good to see you."

"You look like shit, friend. Where's your skin?" Azul answered. He began to pour the Knight-Captain a drink without asking what he wanted.

The ancient barkeep knew what Bruce needed. That metal body of his was special, but it functioned on old magic, and that Azul understood intimately.

"That's a long story," Bruce answered gruffly.

Azul chuckled, reaching for a black bottle with an image of a white goat head on the label. He removed the stopper and poured two ounces of the thick azothic liquid into a shaker, then added ice.

"Sanguine Mission?" Azul asked.

He added vodka, ginger, and lime to the mix and began to shake.

Bruce nodded.

"That's an even longer story," The Knight-Captain grumbled.

Music began to play over the speakers, a soft, easy-going melody with deep, bassy undertones. It soothed the savage warrior in Bruce and he felt his shoulders sag.

Azul turned from the bar and set a drink in front of the weary Knight-Captain. It looked like an ordinary Moscow Mule, but Bruce could tell it shimmered with the faintest glimmer of magic. The blue giant looked around at the empty bar, then back at Bruce. He poured himself a drink and clinked glasses with the metal warrior.

"Well, Brucey-boy, one Sanguine Knight to another, I ain't got nothing but time."