"Sunlight! Oh, my love, sunlight! How much I have missed you!"
Jog-Jog collapsed dramatically onto his knees the second his boots hit the rocky outer ledge of the mountain. He threw his arms wide toward the horizon, unbothered by the dirt, dried blood, and absolute exhaustion clinging to his frame.
Behind him, the survivors trickled out of the dark throat of the screaming cave. They were a sight, a line of limping, bandaged, and broken warriors. The Nuns and Watchmen were supporting each other, their uniforms torn to shreds, their bodies bearing the heavy cost of a battle that had lasted what felt like an eternity. Blood, sweat, and tears had literally been poured into the stones of the Blood Cathedral. Yet, despite the agony etched into their faces, the unmistakable glow of a hard-won victory shone in their eyes.
The summit was peaceful now. The relentless storms had broken, leaving a vast, quiet view of the low-lying clouds below them. The nightmare was over for now
Lena limped over to Kai, stopping right in front of him. She crossed her arms, trying to look stern, but her eyes gave away her relief. This was the conversation everyone had been waiting to have.
"So, now that you're back..." Lena started, tilting her head slightly toward Solon, who stood a few paces away looking unusually quiet. She pointed a thumb in his direction. "You're here for real? For longer? No more getting swallowed by... you know, the Prince of Old Hell over there?"
Kai offered her a warm, genuine smile, the kind of bright, easy expression they hadn't seen in ages. "No," he joked, shaking his head. "I am never going back into his head ever again. Sharing a skull with him sucks."
"Oh, my boy is finally back!" Jog-Jog cheered from the floor, pushing himself up to give Kai a fierce, albeit careful, one-armed hug.
Blackstepped into the circle, his expression somber. He looked at the battered state of his friends and felt a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry I got here late, guys. I was... caught up with Dante. And that old thug,...Jex."
Mayaoffered a gentle, reassuring smile. "It's fine, Black. You got here when it mattered. You saved us."
"Hold up! Back up a little," a groaning voice called out. It was Markas. He was laying flat on his back on a portable medical stretcher, completely wrapped in regenerative gauze from the injuries he'd suffered. He forced himself to prop up on an elbow. "Did you just say Dante?"
Before Black could answer, Boss walked past, wiping a layer of grime from his combat vest. He let out a dark, cynical chuckle. "You've got a beef with Dante? Hahaha! Boy, you kids are way in too deep. I just hope your next death is fast. And permanent."
Black's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, permanent?"
"Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo!" Jog-Jog interrupted instantly, stepping between them with his hands raised. "We literally just survived a demon god vessel in a giant hole inside a tiny cave. Can we please postpone the talk about the reigning tyrant of the Syndicate and the infinitely different ways we could die in his hands? My brain can only handle one existential crisis at a time."
"Yeah... I second that," Hind's voice came through in a weak whisper. She was leaning heavily against a rock, her face pale from the lingering pain of her awakening, but her spirit was intact.
With a collective chorus of groans, grits, and heavy sighs, the surviving Acolytes, Looters, Nuns, and Watchmen began the slow march down to the landing pad where a convoy of Syndicate hoverbuses was waiting. They were victorious, but the silence among the ranks spoke volumes about the comrades they had left behind in the dark.
Watching them board, Masaru Hano stood by the transport doors, completely stunned. He watched the young Acolytes lean on each other, enduring injuries that would have mentally broken the hardened Syndicate's Evangelist veterans.
"This is the beginning of a massive change," Hano murmured to himself. "These are the best Acolytes... the best future Evangelists we've ever seen." He paused, his gaze lingering on Black and the twins. "Or... maybe they are about to become our biggest adversaries yet."
The ride back to the lower sectors of the city was completely tranquil.
Inside the heavy hoverbus, the cool wind whipped through the open utility vents, bringing a desperate sense of ease to the weak and wounded. Outside the reinforced windows, the sky was putting on a masterpiece of vibrant oranges, deep purples, and fading golds. The peaceful hum of the convoy traveling at full speed made the horrific violence at the top of the mountain feel like a distant, distorted dream.
At this moment, no one cared about politics, the Syndicate, or the future. Every surviving Acolyte was just profoundly grateful to be breathing. Yes, limbs had been lost. Yes, good people were lost. But they had crawled out of the mouth of hell alive.
Sitting next to each other in the back row, Black and Kai finally had a moment of peace. They talked in low, hushed tones. They had spent so much time communicating through the exchange between the twins, but actually sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, feeling the physical presence of one another, brought a deep, nostalgic warmth to their chests.
"You said you had an encounter with Dante," Kai said softly, turning his grey eyes toward his friend. "What did he want from you?"
"I don't know," Black replied, staring down at his hands, where the faint residue of Rage smoke had finally settled. "But I'm sure whatever it is, it can't be good. He isn't the type to let things go." He paused for a long moment, the hum of the engine filling the silence, before he looked back at Kai. "Kai... do you trust Jex?"
Kai thought about it, looking out at the fading sunset. "Honestly? I don't see a reason not to. He's bizarre, but he's kept us alive this far."
Black didn't press further. The rest of the long journey was covered in a quiet, comforting peace as the city lights slowly rose to meet them.
**********************************************************
Three Days Later:
"So, let me get this straight. We are moving into a whole new house, and you couldn't even bother to rent a mecha-haul?!"
Jog-Jog's annoyed voice echoed through the dusty, sunlit courtyard of a remarkably spacious, traditional-style estate on the outer rim of the residential sector. He was currently struggling under the weight of three massive wooden crates, his face red with effort.
"I am telling you, that old demon Orion is actually a fraud," Jog-Jog grumbled, setting the crates down with a loud, hollow thud. "He's got enough mysterious wealth to buy a massive, multi-room estate with a large courtyard, but he can't use a basic mech-haul to move our luggage? My spine is going to snap!"
Lena walked past him carrying a light box of medical supplies, totally ignoring his complaining. She looked around the spacious new layout, a sense of calm washing over her. "It has a garden, Jog-Jog. Stop whining. It's better than crowding into our shared hotel rooms."
Maya leaned against the doorframe of the main house, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead as she looked up at the blue sky. A comfortable, domestic quiet had settled over the group during their three days of recovery.
She looked around the courtyard, noticing a very obvious vacancy.
"Hey," Maya called out, looking at the others. "Where in hell is Black, anyway?!"