The drive back felt strange, at best. One part was like swallowing broken glass, each mile another sharp edge cutting its way down, reminding me that some wounds had nothing to do with flesh. Mom's words rattled around my skull like bullets that hadn't found their exit wounds yet.

  You're not my son anymore. You're her creature.

  I couldn’t get this out of my mind. Nor all the other things she told me, and how she straight up dismissed the option of trusting or helping me.

  But, at the same time, a single line from Raphael counterbalanced all of that.

  I believe you.

  That was all it took for me to be kind of all right. We didn’t talk more, as that supposedly wasn’t the place for that. He gave me a cross, a business card, and instructions on how to use them.

  Kallisto sprawled across the backseat now, somehow managing to look bored despite being immaterial. "You’re so boringly silent."

  "I'm driving."

  "Which is an excellent opportunity to chat. But instead, you are silently brooding." She examined her gloved fingers as if she could actually see them properly. "Though I have to say, your mother has quite the way with emotional evisceration. This wasn’t her first time."

  I gripped the steering wheel harder, knuckles going white. The wooden cross that Raphael gave me felt warm against my ribs, even through the pocket, like it was trying to burn the fabric. Three hours back to Isabella's mid-rise, three hours to figure out how to explain that my mother thought I was a brainwashed puppet while a literal angel wanted to meet for tea and strategy sessions.

  "You know what your problem is?" Kallisto asked.

  "Having a demon princess haunting me?"

  "How is me advising you and helping you get through things a problem, precisely?”

  I rolled my eyes. Well, she hasn’t been a problem, actually, except for being proof of me turning mad. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “Why are you apologizing? That’s pathetic. Own up to being yourself, even when you’re being an asshole.”

  Fuck, if this came from anyone other than a demon princess, this would have sounded great. She was a figment of my imagination, but still, she looked and spoke and acted like Kallisto.

  Isabella’s mid-rise appeared ahead like a monolith against the afternoon sky. I pulled into the garage, exhaustion settling into my bones. It was an early afternoon, but six hours of driving did a number on me. The elevator ride up felt eternal, each floor another weight added to my shoulders.

  The doors opened on the eighth floor, and there was Takezo.

  Still strapped in his elaborate bondage setup, balanced on one leg on that narrow brick, the other leg and both arms twisted behind him in what looked like advanced yoga crossed with medieval torture. The black collar around his throat kept him from falling, and that burrito was still lodged in his throat, held in place by the ring gag. His visible eye tracked my movement with the kind of desperate rage usually reserved for trapped animals.

  "Yo." I walked past him toward Isabella's chambers. "Looking good."

  He made a sound that might have been profanity if not for the double-beef tortilla dripping its juiced down his throat.

  Isabella's office door stood open. By an open window, she sat perched on her desk like a gargoyle, her own chair clearly beneath her, phone in one hand, the other furiously swiping on it. Her hair pooled around her like an oil spill, and her blue eyes didn't even glance up when I entered.

  "Back so soon?" Her voice dripped cyanide. "I expected you to spend the night crying in your car before crawling home."

  "Sorry to disappoint."

  "The key to not getting disappointed is having no expectations. Plus, you are remarkably consistent in your performance. Though, it’s a modest surprise you are returning from a mission without being drenched in your own blood. That’s the first time." She slightly lowered her phone, finally looking at me with a smile sharp enough to perform surgery. "So, how did mommy dearest react to her prodigal son? Did she fall to her knees, weeping? Did she clutch you to her bosom and promise to make everything better?"

  "She called me your brainwashed slave and told me I wasn't her son anymore."

  Isabella actually laughed, bright and delighted. "I’ve always liked that part of her. Religious nuts are rare these days. We should invite her for dinner. I'll wear my most Satanic outfit, and for her, I’ll even get a goat skull for a hat."

  "She also said you were using me to spread discord in the Church with lies about Lillith."

  "Spare me the details of your failure." She clicked her tongue. “I’ve been expecting it, naturally, but I am happy that you have returned to me. That will spare you the punishment for failure, or at least lighten it, probably. It doesn’t matter anyway, as I’ve already arranged alternative channels. There's a lovely little Cardinal in Boston who owes me several favors for vanishing certain photographs that would make the Pope spontaneously combust."

  “That’s a waste of time.” I pulled out the wooden cross from my pocket. “This should allow you to put an exception into the building’s defenses, so that Raphael can come here to talk.”

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  Isabella's words died mid-sentence. Her mouth gaped open. The phone slipped from her fingers, hitting the floor and bouncing twice. Her eyes fixed on the cross like it might bite her. “No fucking way.”

  A smirk spread over my face. “Impressed?"

  “With my own mastery of mentorship, yes.” She jumped from the table, her hair flooding out. Some strands took the cross from my hand, others picked up her phone. She weighed the cross in her hand. "This is real."

  Through sheer luck or divine providence or whatever, this was an absolute success. I didn’t even pay anything other than my own emotional damage for it. And I was going to shake that off, eventually.

  Isabella strolled to the hallway with me at her heels. Her hair caught Takezo, undid the bindings, removed the burrito from his mouth, and threw it out from the office’s open window. “I’ll lower the defenses and dress up. You two will do the same. Take a shower, and put on your best clothes and accessories. You will represent me properly, or you will wish I only killed you.”

  Takezo and I exchanged a glance. No idea. We both turned towards her. “What?”

  “What, what? Hot men my age are exceedingly rare, and Raphael is one of them. Which reminds me…” Her hair shot out and caught us in place. Some of her strands turned into razor blades and swirled around our heads. She gave both of us a haircut, and also shaved me to nothing. Takezo kept his stubble though. The hair withdrew. “Into the showers, now.”

  She spun on her heel and rushed into her chambers, slamming the door shut behind her.

  I turned slightly toward Takezo. “Is she trying to make us jealous?”

  “Yep.”

  “And it’s going to work, isn’t it?”

  “Three hundred percent.” He turned and vanished into his room.

  I also left to mine. I took a shower, put on a fresh set of clothes, and even stepped in front of a mirror to adjust my tie.

  Kallisto, who had followed me silently, stepped in front of me. “Move the tie two millimeters to the left.”

  As if I knew how much that was. I moved my tie and kept trying until she approved of the position. “Thanks.” I returned to the hallway.

  Takezo had dressed in his better suit, still black and red, but with various golden accessories and decorations. He wore just a single katana by his belt, this one with a decorative sheath. The sword was the same one as always though.

  Isabella joined us, still wearing a black suit, but with sharper heels that had crosses on the insteps. She still wore her heavy cross around her neck, but also had cross-shaped earrings, and painted her lips and nails red. “Inspection time.”

  She circled both me and Takezo. At each of us, she slightly adjusted our collars and suits, but she didn’t touch my tie.

  Once finished, she headed to the office, motioning us to follow.

  We joined her, wondering what the actual plan was.

  Isabella, once again, sat on her office table. She pulled out the wooden cross and rubbed it a bit.

  A streak of fire shot in through the window.

  Isabella crossed her legs, forming a pleased smile. Takezo and I just stood in place, unsure what we were supposed to be doing or not doing.

  The fire slammed into the floor and erupted upward, forming a pillar of flame that didn't burn anything. The smell of smoke filled the room.

  The flames condensed, collapsed, and shaped themselves into the figure of a tall man in a dark red suit. Raphael stood there, looking around the office with a calm, fake-bored expression of a working professional. “This place is surprisingly civil. I expected you to summon me to your torture chambers, Isabella.”

  Isabella’s smile broadened. "I save that for the morning after."

  "I see.” He relaxed into a smile. “It’s strange for us to meet under non-hostile conditions.”

  “Very weird, admittedly." Isabella shrugged. “Usually, I have to execute at least four people before you show up.”

  “Anyways,” Raphael said, and took a position by the wall, eyeing us semi-warily. “I know Lillith has a lot of darkness within her, but that’s inaccurate, at best. What do you believe that she is actually going to do?”

  I cleared my throat. “She’s about to summon Kallisto, with her entire void ship and army, into the world through the Tokyo portal. The Japanese secret societies are going to be completely wiped out by her, and the world’s response is going to be a mass nuclear strike that won’t be enough. All of that is going to go down in about three weeks.”

  “And you know that by…?”

  “Stumbling upon a portal that leads into a future Tokyo,” Takezo said. “I’ve confirmed the authenticity of that future, and its connection to the present. We have met demonified Sora in there, and even Kallisto herself. She told us about being summoned by Lillith.”

  Raphael’s expression darkened. "This is concerning, to phrase things mildly, but it's not a proof. In the end, all you have is your word, which is based on Kallisto’s word. You cannot expect me to convince other angels to revolt against Lillith based on the word of a demon princess.”

  “Kallisto doesn’t lie,” Takezo said.

  “My patron knows that better than anyone. But still, I need a hard proof. Video, pictures, real footage.”

  “How about witnesses?” Isabella asked. “We’ve captured one of Kallistos' high demons.”

  Raphael raised an eyebrow at her. “And has he confirmed it?”

  “He will,” Isabella said, voice slightly faltering. “We’ve only had him for only like a week, so we haven’t managed to extract the information yet.”

  “You haven’t managed to torture it out of him yet, you mean, right?”

  She shrugged. “Interrogation is out of my specialization.”

  “So, no hard proof,” Raphael summarized. “I will need that proof. At the same time, I will start working on a plan to stop Lillith from doing the summoning, should your allegations end up being accurate.”

  Isabella nodded, and I glanced at Takezo. That sounded excessive.

  Raphael turned towards me, sensing my confusion. “To fill you in, Lillith isn’t merely strong. We, other angels, are humans blessed by an angelic patron. Lillith wields the original Lucifer’s light. On top of that, she is a natural genius at using magic and is extremely specialized. Most mages, even I or Isabella here, have spread out our abilities to function across a variety of domains. Lillith has not. She is one hundred percent focused on combat, and a former member of the Hand of God, so she is difficult to fight directly, at best.”

  “In short,” Isabella jumped in, “Lillith is not beatable in a fair setting. Not now. Not ever. So, don’t even think about challenging her to a duel of honor or something like that.”

  Takezo and I would have never thought about that. We didn’t say that though.

  “And do not be confused by System levels," Raphael added. "In its terms, Lillith and I are one level apart. In reality, the gap between our combat ability is unbridgeable due to non-system skills and abilities."

  Right, the system didn’t stop the person from learning spells and acquiring skills the normal way. I just lacked the talent to do that, so I was one hundred percent dependent on the System.

  “We will get you the proof,” Isabella said. “But it would be good if you started working on a plan immediately. You do have some combat data on Lillith, right?”

  “We do,” Raphael admitted. “That she is a potential threat has been the Vatican Inquisition’s angle from long before she joined us. I will go through the contingency plans and figure out one that can be used, as well as find potential allies.”

  Isabella nodded. “We will have the proofs in about a day.” She spared a short glare at me and Takezo. “Won’t we?”

  “But of course,” Takezo said without thinking.

  Why think when he could make up for the burrito fiasco, right? I simply nodded.

  “Excellent,” Raphael said. “We will need to meet elsewhere to not attract suspicion. Use the cross to summon me whenever you have the necessary proof.” He turned into a shape of pure flame and streaked out through the window.

  We all watched the leftover flames vanish.

  “Well.” Isabella jumped off the table. “Change into the combat suits. You’re both going into the portal.”