"What just happened?" I ask The Voice slack jawed as Castiel runs back towards the lab, abandoning his attempts at destroying the spawn points. Did he just experience some form of mind break after I called him a cuck one too many times? While it would certainly be hilarious if that hypothesis is true, somehow I doubt that this scenario is over by a long shot. Castiel is very obviously the chapter boss put in place by Fate as well as an Incarnate to boot. Its unlikely some taunting by itself would put an end to the threat he poses.

"Transmigrator," The Voice rasps worriedly, "The instability surrounding this scenario has reached a climax. This has resulted in a naturally forming divergence point coming into existence."

"Huh. I'm guessing that's not good." I grunt as take a few brisk swings with the shin gunto to loosen up the knots in my muscles, "How will this divergence point affect the Hero?"

"It will not affect the Hero at all." The Voice clarifies, "From what I can tell, this divergence point binds both Fate and myself."

What.

"How is that even possible?" I ask, "Why would Fate allow itself to be caught up in one of its own divergence points?"

"As I said before, this divergence point was birthed from the instability that we injected into the death route." The Voice says in a rush, "Fate has nothing to do with it. Unfortunately, the divergence point has also thrown the Crossroads into absolute chaos, preventing me from seeing the trigger conditions and eventual outcomes."

I click my tongue in annoyance as I begin to sprint down the corridor after Castiel. Nothing is ever easy isn't it? If experience has taught me anything, its that divergence points will always kick in as a default condition if I do not intervene in shaping events. While this particular divergence point might not be something that would penalize The Voice and I, there's no guarantee that we would get away scott free if I sat back and did nothing. The least I could do would be to investigate what's going on. And I have a sneaking suspicion that the divergence point is connected to Castiel's sudden change of heart.

My pounding feet quickly take me to a bottleneck in the corridor where the scissor wolf drones are attempting to storm the remaining defenders, who fight back from behind a hastily erected barricade made out of bags of concrete, piles of tiles and various other assorted construction supplies. Piles of damaged and destroyed drones lie in heaps at the foot of the barricade, but The Voice cares nothing for the losses being inflicted by the Judecca Militia.

Any conventional attack force would have been sent fleeing for their lives at this point thanks to the determined resistance of the militiamen, but the drones know no fear, relentlessly charging the barricade without rest. The losses the scissor wolves absorb from their assaults are quickly replaced by another freshly spawned set of drones. Against this emotionless, numberless horde, the militia's defeat is all but certain.

Unless the new divergence point pulls the rug out from under The Voice's figurative feet.

Taking advantage of the distraction caused by the scissor wolves, I pump power into my legs and send myself flying over the heads of both the militiamen and the drones with a single flying leap. Other than a few surprised gasps, the militia are too busy trying to avoid having their limbs messily amputated to do anything to stop me. As my feet hit the ground on the opposite side of the barricade, the thought of assisting the scissor wolves clear out the militia crosses my mind, but I dismiss the idea. The outcome here is not in doubt, but what's going on with the divergence point very much is.

There's no time to waste.

....

The doors to the lab fly open as I use the guard posted there as an improvised wrecking ball. I rush into the lab, with the shin gunto drawn, ready for action. Before me, mounted on a wall is a huge flat screen monitor displaying lines of technical gobbledygook while to the side of the lab are a small group of technicians huddled behind their control stations. At the far side of the lab is an elevator, probably used to access the other floors of the Tower. But its in the center of the room where the action is taking place.

A man sized holding cell made of glass has been mounted on the ground with several cables linking it a large device that resembles a windowed cabinet. The windows of the device are tinted, but I can nevertheless see that a small sphere has been placed within it. Multiple nozzles circle the sphere, blasting it in sequence with jets of black fire. The source of the black fire is, of course, no surprise at this point.

The Hero has been sealed within the holding cell, his eyes blankly staring forward while his body generates the black miasma. The cell then extracts the miasma and channels it through the cables into the device where it is projected as the black flame. The Hero is obviously conscious, his staring eyes and labored breathing are evidence of that, but he seems to have no interest in breaking out of the containment unit. The guards must have drugged him up good before wheeling him out of bed.

And before the holding cell is Castiel himself, angrily confronting Baldy who smirks back obnoxiously at the Incarnate. The Idol is on her knees by Baldy's side, sobbing in distress as both men glare daggers at each other.

"Mike, help." the Idol moans weakly through the tears.

"I told you that Kira is not to be harmed." Castiel hisses, "What do you think you're doing, Theo?"

Baldy pulls the Idol roughly back up on her feet and sneers at Castiel, "Just doing the goddess's will "Mike". You seem really familiar with this girl. Care to share why?"

Castiel's voice is flat, "Let her go. Now."

Baldy tuts and wags a finger at Castiel, gently reprimanding, "Now, now. Tensei is not producing enough entropy to crack Salvation's defenses. We discussed this already, Mike. Remember? Eggs and omelettes?"

Before either Castiel or myself can react, Baldy abruptly slams his fist into the Idol's gut, causing blood to spew from her mouth as she keels over unconscious. Right on cue, the Hero's body begins to struggle frantically in the holding cell as the steady flow of miasma generated by him becomes an overwhelming torrent. The jets of flame burning away at the codex gain strength as the machine feeds hungrily on the miasma. Baldy takes a look at the screen hanging from the wall and claps his hands in satisfaction.

"There we go!" Baldy says happily, "Now we're making some progress."

Castiel does not bother with words and sends his saber slashing towards Baldy's neck. Baldy's reflexes are up to the challenge though, and he easily ducks under the attack before retaliating with an uppercut straight to the Incarnate's chin. Castiel's red thread tanks the attack without problem and his saber draws back before lashing out once again. This time the blade strikes its target and Baldy's head is sent rolling across the lab's floor in a spray of blood. The techs cry out in surprise but remain at their stations. After all, with the lab under attack, there is nowhere for them to go.

As Baldy's body topples to the ground headless, the red thread wrapped around Castiel's body tightens around his neck like a noose, causing him to stagger, gasping for breath. His body flickers alarmingly for a few moments but it stabilizes as Castiel flares his core in defiance. The Incarnate then wipes off the sheen of sweat that had built up on his face and gingerly pokes at his neck where the red thread refuses to release its hold.

"Not bad." I comment, "Cuck man has a pair after all. Can't be easy going against your precious goddess."

Castiel grimaces and turns to regard me, "I have walked this world for generations. It might not be much, but I have acquired some power that can be called my own."

Castiel's speech slurs as he talks, as he very obviously struggles to form the words. His eyes occasionally lose focus, as if his mind is constantly drifting away from the present. And all the while, the red thread continues to tighten against his throat. Fate's very literally yanking the Incarnate's chain.

"You won't last long." I observe, "I can tell that you're tiring already."

Castiel smiles sadly, but determination flashes in his eyes, "Long enough to get Kira out of here and away from everything. I will not let you stop me, blackguard."

Our attention is suddenly drawn to the corpse of Baldy which begins to dissolve into a pool of liquid steaming fat. The flesh of the decapitated head then begins to peel away, revealing not bone, but a hand standing upright on its middle and index fingers. A face begins to form on the back of the hand as it trots lightly towards us. A bearded face bearing a disgusting leer that I never hoped to see ever again.

"Naiberg." Castiel whispers, "You're supposed to be dead."

Naiberg ignores Castiel and addresses me instead, "Mike's not going to stop you Mr Gallant. There has been a change in the evening's program."

My heart leaps into my throat as I realize what is going on. This is it. The divergence point.

"Don't ignore me!" Castiel shouts at the hand. Wow. Someone actually talking to the hand. First time for everything I suppose.

"Mike, please." Naiberg says, but this time his voice comes from the opposite end of the room. Both Castiel and I whirl about just in time to see Naiberg emerging from the elevator pushing a wheelchair. And in the wheelchair sits a figure that I haven't seen in a long time. Its the fossil, the incredibly old, comatose man the spider drone spied on when we first infiltrated the black site.

"No." Castiel mutters, face as white as a sheet.

"Mike." Naiberg speaks, again from his actual body, "You look tired."

Naiberg swings his leg in a vicious arc, kicking one of the fossil's shins which shatters with a brittle crack. Castiel shrieks in pain, his corresponding lower leg bending inward, sending him sprawling to the floor.

"Sit down." Naiberg concludes with his signature nasty smile.