They followed the crowd to the platforms for the Sky Bridge. It was brisk, yet pleasant outside. He stopped and breathed in deeply at the Narita air. It was un-like anything Scott had experienced no matter where he went. Each time he visited, he felt it harder and harder to come back. It used to be a place they all felt at home. Admittedly, the only thing that brought him here this time was the small hope that Celeste was somewhere in this city. Secretly he hoped that Kotone would show him more in the forest. It would be tomorrow before he could travel that far south to Ise, but it was something he knew he had to do. Both he and Daniel had come back before, but he had a suspicion it wasn’t at the right time. Something had been eating at him since Kotone showed him more details from his pictures. How had he not noticed that before?

Even though he felt bad for not seeing it, that wasn’t what he really feared. It was what waited within the woods. This time of year was spiritually charged. He remembered Kotone speaking to him about it. It was a time when spirits were known to roam the earth more freely─ one she had never missed. Scott had never seen anything, but then again, he hadn’t looked. And that’s when it had struck him earlier.

He had been looking for Celeste in the wrong mindset. He couldn’t just search, he had to accept that it was there. All this time, Scott had lacked one thing. Acceptance. Of course, it was ludicrous to think that he didn’t believe what he saw. He had long gathered that there was something beyond himself. Real acceptance─ that was tackling an entirely different beast. He had assumed over time that other creatures existed, some trickier than others in how they manifested themselves. Scott had rationalized it for years: beings that lived in the fourth dimension or capable of living on various time-lines. Possibly even creatures that could simply slip through dimensions. He acknowledged it, but he hadn’t looked for Celeste properly. Creatures only showed themselves to people that searched for them. Wasn’t that how it happened in most fables? Demons in our everyday world, a life beyond the common man’s sight─ perhaps Lovecraft was on to something.

Their train arrived right on time, and they quietly boarded. This unusual break in character gave him pause. Luci was only quiet when she was thinking on the next strategy, but it wasn’t like that this time. Suddenly the cold feeling was finding its way back into his belly. He had not felt this since the call from his men about Celeste falling off of the grid and after talking with Daniel. Luci now wore a similar, but slightly different look. That look was what he saw men get before losing everything they owned. That look was what he saw on his daughter’s face when she first discovered she wasn’t in control of her own body. That look was what he saw in his wife the first time she discovered that her body was riddled with cancer. That look─ was fear.

There were few things in a person’s lifetime that made them feel that way. It was usually loss of control, or fear of the unknown. With a sinking feeling, he realized it was the latter. Luci flashed a tight smile and then looked outside as they jolted forward. If he was unsure before, that look solidified what he suspected. What are we doing? Scott wondered silently. What are we all doing?

* * *

The falling sensation was something John was sure would have stopped after they had plunged from the river, into the Sea of the Dead. He was wrong. Michael groaned and wretched, still semi-conscious from the last encounter. John grimaced at the extremely unpleasant sensation, his jaw grinding, “I feel you, buddy. Not much longer, OK?” John knew he wasn’t going to get a response, but still hoped that somewhere Michael could hear him. The large gate only opened for those that required judgment. Then, three tasks were appointed to those willing to fight for a chance at either Heaven, or cast back into the River of the Dead─ doomed to wander forever. It always baffled him how the dead could have easily walked from the twisting misery.

Over the years, very few had managed to wander along the borders and try the twisting gardens that bordered the gates. They were far outnumbered by the millions that twisted around them, but there were some. He had tried to speak with a few stragglers that swam near them, but quickly surmised that they were a mindless herd of followers. After the initial draining sensation and shock of falling into the river, the shark-like frenzy had subsided. There was something unsettling about floating next to people that took no notice of their surroundings. If he had to put it to words, it was like walking in a large, crowded city without all of the sounds. It was as if there were a giant phone screen in the far distance, beckoning them with notifications. It would have been humorous if their human forms were still intact. They had their human shapes, but their skin was made of something that could only be described as rubbery sand paper. The earlier shark frenzy popped back into his mind. They moved in herds─ mouths gaping open. Their movements were quick and determined as their large, dull eyes stared forward at nothing and everything.

John couldn’t remember any of this the last time he had done guard duty. All he could recall was the wails or incoherent nonsense that sputtered from the river occasionally. That made him think. Was it possible that he didn’t notice them before because he hadn’t been close enough? He was again reminded that his memory for things as an angel was becoming fuzzier. It was hard to tell what did and didn’t happen.

John was surprised to find that the sensation had left him as they got closer to the gates. Michael must have sensed it, because his groaning ceased. He had never seen the commander looking so pathetic. But when he thought on it, the transition from angel to human was extremely disorienting. You would randomly phase shift from one plane to the other and lose whole days, if not weeks, between them. His mind wandered to Mitsuko. He wondered how she had been these last few weeks without him. It was rare that they left each other’s side, and being gone stirred a deep ache. John missed the smell of spring in her hair and the warmth from her body. Occasionally he felt sorry for Celeste. She knew nothing of what was really going on. And now that she was back with her father, he was sure that she hated him more than ever. Not only that, but he wasn’t even sure Celeste existed anymore. That was an alter-ego Dr. Heisman had created. Since she was a child, Celeste had been trained to be human. But now that she was with the Demon King, Kiwako was surely reborn.

The Demon Empress’s rise had long been a fear of Mitsuko. She would harp on balance and how essential it was that the two existed separately until the scroll of binding was found. He frowned thinking about all of her sleepless nights. She was too good for all of this pain. She deserved better.

Celeste was only a small part of the big picture. It wasn’t that she meant nothing to him, it was that she was only a fraction of the person that she could be. Mitsuko was Kiwako to a degree. They weren’t sure exactly how it worked, all they had were theories. That’s why they were going through this hell. Eons. A human mind could not even comprehend how much time had passed before he had found Mitsuko again. He couldn’t even remember the dark years before there was Earth. John closed his eyes, thinking back to after he was cast from Heaven. The long travels in the In-between, not alive─ not dead. At some point, his mind checked out and he simply stopped existing. It wasn’t until he was re-born into his human family that he was finally reunited with her. Every moment was theirs, every second was precious. He would never loser her again.

John shifted forward with the others, floating toward the dark spires. The sooner Celeste accepted what was best for her and they found a way to re-unite the two, the better off everyone would be. Mitsuko’s soft skin and smile popped into his mind. He couldn’t understand how something so beautiful could have such a dark past. For all her innocence, he knew she had equal amounts of evil. When he had first met her, she was the epitome of Venus─ Her beauty as flawless as her character. It wasn’t until Kiwako revealed her true nature and horrible things began happening around them, that he put two and two together. She was cursed and somehow split from her better half. Dr. Heisman had done a good job at keeping her from herself and they had all been praying the treatments were working. And they were─ for a long time. But now he knew why she went to Japan. They had all been fooled, especially her father. Scott had felt the guiltiest, knowing that Yamamoto was more than likely a front to lure him and his daughter there. Sure, it was a valid business deal and went through without a hitch but the timing was weird. And shortly after, Yamamoto’s death had come as equally shocking for the industry. Something didn’t sit right with him about the whole thing. It felt rigged, and he was more than sure that the bug-eyed demon woman had something to do with it. After Scott had told him everything surrounding Kiwako’s childhood and how they had given birth to her, he had no doubt that the deity was not who she said she was.

He sighed in relief as the large gates began parting and the sea of the dead rushed in. The movement was enough to make him almost pass out, but he managed to stay conscious enough to hear the gates resonate throughout the huge space as they were pulled shut. He was thankful they were finally in. The people around him were deathly quiet─ more than before if that were even possible. He looked around just to make sure that they were still there.

None of them were awake. Even Michael was in what seemed like a coma. His eyes were rolled back and barely opened a slit. All that was visible was the whites from his eyes. Great─ they had finally made it hundreds of miles, only to have Michael missing his wings, and him barely conscious and sick. What a pathetic bunch they made coming face-to-face with Azrael. He took the quiet time to look around, trying to memorize every detail. He wasn’t sure how quickly they may need to try and bust out of here─ or if Azrael would even see them. This was all riding on the hope that a long time ago, they were friends. Azrael was the Angel of Death, which meant he was as neutral as they came. When Messiah had split itself, it knew the need for balance. Or so, he theorized. No one really knew, but it sounded more plausible than anything else he could come up with. John knew that he was placing a lot on a theory, but it was a bet he was willing to take. Seems like he was just full of cliché’s lately. He chuckled at how stupid humanity had made him and what he had done for love. He never understood it before, but as an imperfect human─ he could.

The area was completely devoid of wetness. It was as if the air itself was taken from the desert and yet, he could feel the wetness from the water they trudged along in. But it was the water that was beginning to feel uncomfortable. As if the wetness itself was sticking to him, and he was unable to breathe. He needed out, these creatures were stealing his air and the water was pulling him down. John didn’t know why he fought this, but he just knew that somehow, he wasn’t supposed to go down there. He clawed his way to the top, terrified at the falling and wet sensation. Bless Michael─ that son-of-a-bitch caught on real quick and he snapped awake, clawing next to him. They thrashed until they broke the surface and both shot their heads back and forth.

“OUT” Michael screamed. Digging his way toward the sides. “Thank you, Captain Obvious” John muttered as he dove toward the same side. He couldn’t see much, but he could sense there was a wall that bordered the sides of the damned. There was a thick, grey haze all around them but somehow his eyes managed to make out something solid in the distance. Michael must have sensed it too, since he was matching him stroke for stroke. To his horror, John felt something tearing at his legs. Whatever it was, made him feel like he was never going to make it. He could feel himself doubting every kick of his leg, or stroke with his arms.

He needed to clear his mind. What was it he remembered learning from his mentor? Then he heard Michael’s voice from all those years ago:

The first part of the three tests is by far the cruelest. It takes your mind and instills fear and doubt─ leading its victim to panic into becoming a mindless idiot before they let go and fall into the depths of despair. It is meant to weed out all the weak minded people that cannot think for themselves. It can last anywhere from hours to days. Some of the strongest contenders I've seen could not make it past their own self-doubt. This is the pit’s secret─ it turns you against yourself.

John hadn't come this far to be shut down, and he sure as hell wasn't going to lose for both of them. He felt his power bubble from the inside, until finally it burst from his body. Not sure how it was going to work, his hands shot out, and grabbed Michael. He focused all his energy on what he hoped was a shore and blinked.