Freya sat despondently in the battered arm-chair that had sat in the corner of her apartment since Hruod and Huon had dragged it in off the street, grinning like idiots. No amount of shampooing could erase the various smells that clung to it, but it had reached the level of wear at which its comfort peaked. Not that Freya could have appreciated it at that moment. She was lying so low down that she was virtually horizontal, and her neck hurt. She was in no mood to move though, and she just played with the hem of her top, lifting it up over her stomach and idly poking a finger into her belly button.

A knock at the door made her snatch her top down and try to sit up, but she ended up just flailing helplessly in the chair as Galadd walked in.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to sit up, what does it look like?"

He tilted his head. "Not like sitting up."

"Oh shut up." Freya planted her hands on the arms and finally managed to push herself up into a vaguely upright position.

"I can tell you're upset," Galadd said.

"Oh? What gave it away?"

"Well, first, the way you smell. And I saw the show, so I know that..."

"It's an expression, Galadd. I was being sarcastic. What are you doing here anyway?"

"I was looking for Gawain."

"Haven't seen him, sorry."

"Damn." Galadd started to walk around the small apartment, sniffing here and there, presumably trying to pick up any trace of his friend. "He borrowed my iPod."

"Why would he borrow your iPod? Gawain has one of those really titchy ones, doesn't he?"

"Yeah, he broke it."

"How did he do that?"

"He was trying to flip it on a table – you know, like a beer mat?" He mimed flipping over a beer mat with the back of his hand and then catching it out of the air.

"And he missed?"

"No, he did it, but it broke the screen. Then the battery fell out and broke too."

Freya sighed. "This: this is why we call you 'The Children'."

"Yeah well. You know, you shouldn't be too upset about losing that match."

"I'm not upset about the match."

"So it's Darkness then?"

Freya eyeballed Galadd from across the room. "I see word gets around."

"Yeah. I don't get why it's a big deal though. I didn't care when Eoin slept with Ogier."

"Ogier slept with Eoin?!"

"Yeah. Just once. Didn't make me want to sleep with her any less though."

"You're sleeping with Eoin?!"

"Yeah! Didn't you know?"

"No! Obviously not!" Freya slumped back in the chair. "Anyway, that's a totally different situation."

"Why?"

"Because it's not the same for werewolves."

"Well you're a werewolf..."

"Darkness isn't."

"That's true. Still, it's not like he's going to see this woman again, whoever she is. From what Tilpin told me, it was just a one night thing."

"Tilpin was the one who told you? What the hell?"

Galadd shrugged. "It doesn't matter though. You can still go on sleeping with him."

Freya jumped out of her chair. "I'm not sleeping with him! Why does everybody think that?!"

"What? You're not shagging Darkness?"

"No! Gah!" Freya stormed past Galadd and grabbed her coat off the hook by the door. "If it's not you it's Selenia calling me and being all weird, and if it's not her it's that creep Banter while we're on TV. I'm going out."

"Where?"

"Somewhere where people aren't talking about my non-existent sex life!" Freya slammed the door behind her, leaving Galadd alone.

* * *

Darkness unlocked the door to his apartment and stepped inside. He already knew he wasn't alone – he'd known before he even reached the door. Calmly, he closed the door behind him and walked over to the free chair in the middle of the room. He seated himself, equally calmly.

"Hello, Jason."

Dante smiled in the gloom. "Drink?" He held up a tumbler full of something.

"You remind me of your father when you do that."

"Do what?"

"Sit there, smiling, trying to control the dynamics of the situation by offering something. It's an old trick, but it didn't scare me when he did it, so you should probably give up now."

Dante put down the glass on the table next to his chair. "Fine. No pretence. We're beyond that."

"We are."

"You know then?"

Darkness nodded. "I knew at the time. Did you really think you could hide it from me?"

"No. I knew you'd know. I was just expecting some kind of confrontation sooner. You're usually so...proactive."

"I've had things on my mind. But here we are now. Do you have an explanation?"

Dante clasped his hands across his lap. "Yes, Darkness. I didn't attack you before your match with Loop for no reason."

"Good. So what it is?"

"First, let me take you back. Let me remind you of the situation in TCW when that happened."

"I don't need reminding."

"No, of course not – Deng took your belts." Dante's smile was wolfish.

"You can't nettle me, Jason. Just tell me why you did it."

"Deng stripped you of the belts, he rebooted TCW, and I'm sure you remember why that was. After all, you were there too, bleeding on the ramp."

"Bleeding on the ramp as you crippled Matt Strikmore."

"Right. Crippled him. Crippled him for what he said about us at Endgame."

"Ah," Darkness nodded, "so that's what this is about."

"Yes, Darkness, that's what this is about. It's all been about that. Including what I did to Hawthorne."

This time, Darkness couldn't hide his surprise. "That was you too?"

"Oh yes. He paid the price for his insolence. Come on, admit it, you never trusted him either."

"Maybe not, but I wouldn't attack him. What's happened to you, Jason?"

Dante stood up and began to walk towards the window. "It's not me that changed – it's you."

"Me?"

"Yes. You've grown weak. Permissive."

"Oh really?"

Dante placed his hands against the sill and leant forward, keeping his back to Darkness as he spoke. "Hawthorne was the weak link in the New Hellfire Club. He was an indulgence we could not afford."

"Indulgence?"

Dante turned around, so he stood framed in the moonlight. It shone through his hair, illuminating the thin strands, but leaving his face in shadow. "You know what we are, Darkness. You know our destiny. We are gods, not men. Why should we waste time with allies who doubt our cause?"

"You took out Hawthorne because he didn't trust me?"

"Correct."

"And I know why you took out Strikmore. But none of this explains why you'd assault me, especially ahead of a title match."

Dante advanced on Darkness. "Because, my brother, I couldn't let Deng get away with taking the belts that you and I helped define: the championships we bled for. They were a symbol of our legacy – you said so yourself, once. They were the highest accolade, because they were the property of the world's greatest warriors. Why should you compete for a lesser prize because of a man's whims? Why should you, a Prince of Hell, be subject to his mortal fancies?"

Darkness stood up abruptly and walked away from Dante. "I don't like the way you're talking, Jason."

"You know in your bones that what I'm saying is true. You can feel it in your marrow. You've thought the same things. Tell me, how much human is there really left in you?"

Darkness spun around so fast it caused Dante to take a step back. "How much human is left in me? You attacked me, from behind. You left me a bloody mess."

"That's rich coming from you – I saw what you did to Freya out there."

"That was in a match."

"Same difference. You did it for glory. You did it because, above all else, you desire recognition. You're a hero, Darkness, and I mean that in the sense that the Greeks and the Norse used it. You are a titan, towering over mortals and their petty concerns. You destroyed her because you are beyond their notions of good and evil. You are not a man: you are a superman."

Darkness curled his lip. "Don't quote Nietzsche at me, Dante."

"Why not? You and I are the living embodiment of Übermenschen. We carve out our own morality. That is our destiny."

"No!"

"Yes it is, Darkness! You know this! We were born to rule, not to serve." Dante approached Darkness again. "I have a gift for you."

"I want nothing from you."

"You'll want this." He walked over to the kitchenette where, Darkness now saw, an object was sitting on the counter, covered in some kind of sheet. "Do you remember Endgame 2006?"

"How could I forget?"

"Do you remember the Incubi?"

Darkness lifted an eyebrow. "What about them?"

"You killed Abbadon, their master, and so, by right of conquest, you became the Lord of Hades."

"I know my titles, Dante."

"Yes you do, but it's high time you took your rightful place." Dante pulled off the sheet, revealing a dark object glowering on the counter. Darkness walked towards it slowly, a frown on his face. It was made of blackened metal, and was bursting with jagged protrusions. As Darkness came closer, he saw it was a helmet of some kind, with a face piece like an iron mask.

"What is that?"

"The Iron Crown of Hades."

"There's no such thing."

"There is now. You are the Lord of Hades, the Slayer of Abbadon, the Nightwalker, the First of the Shadow Slayers, the Antichrist himself. You belong with your subjects."

"No. I belong here. I'm just a man."

"You're not more a man than I am!" Dante's eyes flashed fire.

"Do you forget your own titles, Earthborn?"

"Born of Earth, but conceived in Hell, Nightwalker. I am the Son of Lucifer, the Master of Dis, the White Dragon – I am demon, the product of an ancient pact. I am no man."

Darkness leaned in across the counter so his face was only a few inches from Dante's. "Tell me, Earthborn, how's your family?"

Dante spun away and stormed back across the room. He stood at the window again, glowering silently. "I haven't spoken to Selenia in a long time," he said finally.

"Maybe you should."

"No. It was a flight of fancy to think I could live like a mortal. I snubbed my Infernal heritage."

"What about Meagan?"

"Don't..." Dante spun around, levelling a finger, "...don't mention her name to me...don't!" Dante smiled suddenly. "You're trying to trick me, but that won't work. I know you too well. We're closer than brothers, you and I."

"Tell me, brother, if I'm to be the Lord of Hades, what would that make you?"

"I am the Master of Dis – you helped me win that crown. Imagine it: the Princes of Hell, returning home. We shall renew the alliance of Heaven and Hell that my father so foolishly squandered. We will scour him from his palaces, throw down his towers, and assume ownership of the most powerful resource in the universe."

"That's what this is about, isn't it?" Darkness growled. "Hellfire. Do I even need to ask what you would wear in place of a crown?" he gestured at the ugly helmet on the kitchen counter.

"Freya can keep her Ring. Let her stand guard at the Gates of Hell – all the better to allow us to ride out against the forces of the Abyss when the End Times come."

"This is madness."

"No, Darkness – this is destiny." Dante nodded at the Crown of Hades. "I'll leave that with you. Why don't you try it on, see if it fits? You never know, you might like it." He smiled again, and headed for the door.

"I don't think so."

"Don't you at least owe me the benefit of the doubt?"

"I don't owe you anything."

Dante paused, his hand on the doorknob. "You know that isn't true. We've been through so much. And, remember, I'm not a demon you want to have as an enemy."

"I survived before."

"Your hand didn't." Dante's grin reached its widest, and then he opened the door and was gone.

Darkness watched the door close, then turned back to the Crown. With a snarl, he knocked it to the floor with one sweep of his good hand.

* * *

Freya kicked open the door and walked out onto the roof of the apartment complex. It was drizzling slightly, but it wasn't wet enough to bother her. She wandered out, heading towards the edge, hoping to get a decent view, but the clouds obscured most of Beijing's skyline.

"Hey, Freya."

Freya looked to one side and saw Llenlleawg crouching against the wall of the small entrance, using its lee to shelter from the rain. "Oh hi. I didn't smell you."

"I didn't smell you either – or Sense you. You've still got that crystal in your pocket."

"Oh yeah. I guess it screws up my nose a bit too." She pulled the offending item out of her pocket and examined it. She stood for a moment, wondering what to do with it, then put it back when she realised she had nowhere else to put it. "What are you doing out here anyway?"

"Just sitting," Llenlleawg shrugged.

"Why aren't you with the others?"

"I don't hang out with them much, in case you hadn't noticed."

"No, I guess you don't." Freya looked down at the dark haired werewolf, who was idly spinning his spear-stave around on its point. "You'd think the way they go on, one of those girls would have made a wolf out of you by now."

Llenlleawg blushed and then stood up awkwardly. "I don't know what you mean."

"Oh come on," she gave his arm a gentle shove, "a woman can tell these things. Plus I know you've never transformed yet – that's always a dead giveaway."

"It is?"

"Sure. What, did you think it just happened by itself?"

"Uh..."

Freya laughed, her bad mood lifted slightly by Llenlleawg's discomfort. "Guess your parents never got 'round to having the talk with you."

"I guess not."

"Come on, I'm bored. Let's go out for a drink or something."

"I'm not really in the mood," he said.

"No, neither am I, but that's what the alcohol is for. Come on." She linked arms with him and then had to drag him towards the door. Eventually he relented.

Freya weaved through the busy bar, bottles of beer in hand, to where Llenlleawg had a table. The werewolf looked extremely uncomfortable, his spear stave propped up against the wall.

"You look extremely uncomfortable," Freya said, handing Llenlleawg his beer.

"Everyone's staring."

Freya glanced around the room. "Yeah, so? You do realise people know who I am, right? That out in this world I'm a little famous. They're probably all wondering how I'm still walking after what happened. Drink your beer, they'll stop staring in a bit."

"After what happened?"

"The match. Me versus Darkness. You didn't see it?"

He shook his head. "But you've wrestled before."

Freya sipped her beer and shook her head. "Not like this. But then he's not the same man anymore. Not since that thing with Izumi's lot. Don't tell me I'm the only one that's noticed. Haven't you? What about Rev?"

"I don't really talk to Rev. She spends her time with the others. She doesn't train, but gets away with it because she's the Damphyr." He drunk his beer morosely. Freya watched him as she sipped at her beer. Eventually he put the empty bottle back on the table.

"Want another?" Freya asked. Llenlleawg nodded and she went and fetched a couple more beers.

"Did you know Eoin and Galadd were sleeping together?" She asked as she returned.

Llenlleawg nodded. "Cai tried as well but she turned him down."

"Really?"

"Must be something in the water."

"You don't find Eoin attractive?"

He shrugged. "She's alright."

"Just not your type." She poked his arm, "so what is your type?"

Llenlleawg blushed. "Can we talk about something else?"

"Sure." The pair lapsed into silence, drinking their beers.

**

Darkness stood at the window of his apartment, not really looking at anything but that was mainly because there was nothing to see. He was thinking over what Dante had said. He could lead the Legio Incubi, he'd done it before, and with them they'd have a better chance of defeating the Abyss.

He shook his head, he couldn't entertain the madness Dante was offering him.

There was a commotion in the corridor and several of The Children burst into the apartment.

"Hey, Darkness! You know it's dark in here, right?" Gawain said, flicking on the light.

"Ooo, look at this," Galadd said as he stepped into the small kitchen area.

"Don't touch that," Darkness shouted as Galadd bent over to pick up the crown he'd discarded earlier. The Children froze, Galadd still partly bent over. "I'm sorry," Darkness said quietly. "Can you all go somewhere else, to Freya's or something."

"Is everything alright?" Gwen asked.

"I just want some time to think."

"What is this thing?" Galadd asked, waving at he crown.

Darkness walked over to the kitchen. He paused and took a deep breath before picking it up. As his fingers reached it, sparks flew from his fingers to the mask, and as his fingers closed around it, the burnt iron grew a blue tinge. It wasn't as heavy as it looked and tingled slightly in his hands. He replaced it on the counter top, and as his fingers left it sparks jumped between the two.

"We'll go hang at Freya's, she's not there," Galadd said, backing away.

"Where is she?" Darkness asked, not looking away from the crown, now it's regular metallic colour.

"Don't know, she just said she wanted to be away from people talking about her non-existent se..." he was cut off by Gwen elbowing him in the ribs.

"If you see her can you ask her to come talk to me?" Darkness said. "It's important."

Gawain and Galadd nodded before leaving the apartment. Gwen put a hand on his arm.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

Darkness met her amber eyes with his steely grey ones. "I'm fine. I need to do some thinking."

Gwen headed to the door.

"Don't forget I need to talk to Freya."

"Why don't you go find her?"

"I don't think she'd appreciate it."

**

"Ow, careful." Freya giggled as she rubbed the back of her head from where she'd bumped it on the tree she was now leaning against.

"Sorry." Llenlleawg pressed himself against her, but put his hand behind her head.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked, moving some of his black hair from his face. "If you'd rather wait..." She was cut off by Llenlleawg kissing her. His hand moved from the back of her head to her waist and pulled her closer.

"Is that your stave or are you just pleased to see me?"

"Don't joke," he said in a low voice. He pulled of her top before removing his own. He ran a hand up her arm which was covered in goosebumps. His hand reached a bra strap.

"I don't know how... I've never..."

Freya smiled and reached behind her and unclipped her bra. "Better?"

He growled appreciatively. He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around him. He knelt awkwardly before lying Freya on her back. After some fumbling their trousers joined the rest of their clothes.

"You smell," Llenlleawg said, sniffing Freya's neck.

"Thanks."

"No, I mean smell you smell you. The crystals gone." There was a sudden thrust and Freya gasped. "Is that alright?"

"Yeah, very alright." She ran her hand down his back as he started again, slowly, shyly, but soon he grew more confident, his movements stronger, faster, more urgent. A fine layer of black hair appeared over his back, slowly spreading onto his face. Muscles rippled, teeth sunk into flesh. His nose started to lengthen forming a snout and slowly, the rest of him changed. Underneath, Freya matched his transformation, not missing a beat. The pair changed form over and over, until a howl filled the night.

Freya and Llenlleawg laid on the damp ground panting for breath back in human form.

"Was that all right?" He asked.

Freya nodded. "Just next time, can we go a little slower?"

"Next time?"

Freya looked over and gave a wolfish grin before climbing on top of him.

That first moment was like a bolt of lightning splintering her skull in two. The only cause of the pain was consciousness – she hadn't even opened her eyes yet. But there it was: a flash of agony, like her brain was trying to fight its way out.

"Urghnghlmngh," she said.

Then, after a few more seconds of only moderate torture now that the initial blinding pain had passed, "Ow, my fucking head."

She dared to open her eyes a tiny fraction, then recoiled. Her path into bed had taken her in a zig-zag from one corner of the room to the other but evidently not as far as the curtains, which were open and, inevitably, framed a morning of glorious and hateful vibrancy. Freya rolled her face into the pillow. Fragments of last night were returning to her, swimming through the depth charges that were still going off in her head. Half-remembered sounds, smells and tastes. She had a momentary flashback to something awful that had come in a small glass and then, charging headlong through it all, like a grinning shark chasing away shoals of mere piranhas, the memory of It. The Big One. That one Thing that happens on every drunken night that you never, ever want to remember. Maybe it's kissing the wrong boy, maybe it's taking off the wrong item of clothing in the wrong place, maybe it's punching the last person you ever want to punch.

This was worse. This was much, much worse. She rolled over again, and became aware of someone lying next to her.

No. Something.

"Oh bloody hell." She screwed her eyes shut. "Do you have to lie there like that?"

There was a noise that only someone like her could interpret. It was a question, of a kind, but it stank of injured innocence, with just enough slyness behind it to identify the one who made the sound as someone who had recently crossed some great threshold. In his own mind, at least.

Freya opened one eyelid, and found herself staring into the eyes of a wolf. "That's bad manners," she croaked. Her throat was very dry.

Another questioning whine, and then Llenlleawg made a stab at decency by turning himself inside-out and, with a sickening crunch, resuming his humanoid form. "That hurt," he observed.

"Yeah, you'll get used to it."

"You really have to concentrate, don't you?"

She nodded. "It's tempting to stay that way, I know. Being a wolf is easier sometimes."

"It feels good."

"Now it does, but that's because it's new and exciting. It'll fade. In the end, it's just another set of clothes. Your mind might feel different when you're on all fours, but it's still you in there. Just another side of you."

Llenlleawg inched closer to her and started to reach out, but Freya instinctively pushed herself away. "Lleny...Llenlleawg...listen..."

"What's wrong?" She could smell his confusion.

"What happened last night, you have to realise...I don't necessarily feel the same way about you as you do about me..."

"You can't pretend that didn't mean anything, Freya." There was anger in him now. Still lukewarm, but it was bubbling up fast.

"It meant something. It did. I don't regret it."

"You're lying!"

"No, I'm not. Trust your nose, Llenlleawg. You're still thinking like a wolf – all jaws and fury – part of this new phase in your life is learning to balance the two halves of yourself. You need to relax: remember what it is to be human."

"I'm not human!" He sat up suddenly, and held out his hands. Freya looked at him for the first time in the cold light of day, and had to admit that the boy was in good shape. He was pale, but his torso was lithe and corded with tight musculature. Obviously his Slayer training was paying off. She remembered when he was a little kid, tagging along behind her and Lir as they explored the woods... The thought of that child made her nauseous suddenly: the memory of his white little face, whining and bawling, juxtaposed with the memory of the lust in his eyes last night. Ew.

Llenlleawg evidently didn't notice. He was looking at his hands, seemingly entranced by them. "I felt what it was to be the beast. I ran like a wolf, smelling the night, seeing with my nose, hunting and killing."

"Yeah, I can smell that...a toothbrush is the werewolf's best friend, you know."

"I was smaller," he continued, ignoring her, "but paradoxically, that made me stronger. My muscles were more tightly wound, my blood was pumping faster. I could run like the wind. I could smell everything."

"Yeah, it's great," Freya said with a small sigh. She sat up too and looked over at the bedside cabinet where she was pleased to note that her drunken self had been considerate enough to leave a glass of water for her.

"And you go through this every month?" Llenlleawg asked, turning to her.

"Not this. Just the wolf thing. Please, Lleny..."

"Don't call me that."

"Fine. Llenlleawg. I'm happy for you, but can you save the emo-kid poetry for one of the others? I've been where you are, I've had that initial rush, but now it's just part of my life. If you want to avoid being horribly mocked for being a mooning idiot, you'll just be cool, okay?"

"I am cool."

"No, you're a bloody twat."

He laughed as she took a sip of her water, but then grew serious. "It was okay though, wasn't it?"

"You already asked that. You did good, kid. Exactly what I needed."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Just don't get a big head. It's bad enough for humans – or so I understand – but you've got all this wolf shit inflating your ego too. Getting your end away makes you feel like hot shit without also knowing you're secretly a deadly predator."

Freya moved to clamber out of bed, then clutched the sheets around her. "Uh..."

"Freya, I saw it all last night."

"Yes, but it's not last night any more, okay?"

* * *

Dante was a flash of uncharacteristic white amidst the grey, lifeless decay surrounding him. Here, in the forgotten places of the world, he felt at home. It was some worthless corner of Beijing, a place where things – metal things, things that had once housed mighty engines – came to die. It was a place of rusting iron and corroded steel. Weeds pushed their way through the hard-packed, unhealthy ground that was more rubble than soil, and grew up, ensnaring their huge, lumpen charges over weeks, months and years. The remains of a truck's cab, now enmeshed in a web of livid, sickly green, held together by rust and the insidious vegetation, formed a fitting backdrop as he stood silently, his hands clasped before him.

"No place like home, eh?"

Darkness looked around. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm afraid I know the Iron City only by reputation, but this rather fits my image of it."

Darkness nodded. "Yeah. Except it's taller."

Dante spread his hands. "Human engineering has its limits. Another advantage Hell has over this place. Tell me, did you try on the crown?"

"Not yet. Where did you get it anyway?"

"I found it."

"Where?"

Dante smiled. "I've been travelling far and wide, Darkness. I've seen some incredible things these past months."

"I've never heard of the Crown of Hades, Dante. Did you make it yourself? What's your game?"

"Game?" He would have lifted an eyebrow if he'd been able to, so instead he settled for a small smirk. "This isn't a game, Darkness."

"Yes it is. This is all some kind of insane plan. You've inherited both your father's flair for theatrics and his instinct for deviousness."

"You act as if you didn't know this before."

"No, I knew. It's just that I thought you'd grown."

"I have grown!"

"I'm not going to Hell with you, Jason."

"Then why are you here?"

"I don't know."

Dante walked towards him. "You're here because no one told you not to come. You're her because you're adrift, lost in a sea of indecision. I know what happened to you down in that basement in Tokyo."

Darkness froze. "No you don't."

"No? After what we went through all those years ago, Darkness, isn't there always that part of me in the back of your mind? That link that nothing can sever? You knew it was me that attacked you – there was no way you couldn't. And I was with you down there, deep under the earth, face to face with that..."

"No." Darkness held up his hand. "You weren't there. You don't know."

"I've seen it in my nightmares. Seen what you saw. I've looked through your eyes, into the face of that thing. I too, in my own way, have faced the horror of the Abyssal Spawn."

"No! You can never know what I faced! What I lost!" Darkness lunged at Dante, shoving him away like a child in the playground. Like brothers on the edge of fighting.

"But I do know," Dante said, his voice softening, but never truly losing its hard edge, "I could describe it to you. I could let you relive every detail, every grotesque transformation and permutation. I know the thoughts it put it in your head. I know what you sacrificed to beat it. I do know what you lost."

"No, you don't..."

"I know you still see it when you close your eyes. I know it haunts your nightmares. I know that every horror, every torment, everything you've endured in your long war, has been pushed aside because of it. I know that it robbed you of everything that you are. I know that it turned you into a hollow shell of a man. I know that you're searching for something to anchor you. I know you need a direction."

Darkness shook his head, but Dante was standing very close now.

"Neither of us are human any more – if we ever were. Ask yourself: what's tying you to this place, to these people?"

Dante already knew what Darkness was thinking.

"Let me tell you something about her," he whispered, "let me tell you what she did last night, when you needed her most..."

Freya knocked on the door to Darkness's apartment, wincing at the surprisingly loud noise. She didn't think he was in, but her head was thumping and she was having trouble concentrating on her nose. She didn't want to talk to him, and letting herself into his apartment when he was there might give the wrong impression.
Tilpin opened the door. "Ooo, you look awful."

"Thanks. Is Darkness in?"

"No. Actually, I think he was looking for you last night."

Freya waved her hand in the air as she entered the apartment. Cai, Peredur and Ogier were sitting in front of the TV playing video games. Freya sat on one of the breakfast bar stools and rested her head against her arms on the top.

"Are you all right?" Tilpin stroked Freya's hair. "Did you have a rough night?"

Freya lifted her head. "I need something. Some...erm..." she glanced at the boys and lowered her voice. "I need some wolfsbane."

"That's not going to make you feel better. That's for when you...you know..."

"I know. I got very drunk and, well...something happened."

"Oooh. Who was he?"

"You know it's easier to listen if you're not whispering," Cai said. Freya and Tilpin looked over and found the three boys watching. Tilpin tapped her nose before disappearing, and the boys turned back to their game.

Freya looked around at the mess that covered the counter. Small electronics littered the place, along with games, CDs and other miscellaneous items. And a helmet.

"What the hell is this?" Freya said aloud.

"It's Darkness's. I wouldn't touch it," Peredur said without turning around.

Freya gave him a quick glance before lifting the weird helmet and turning it so she looked into the face mask at the front. She brought it closer to her. There was an strange smell, faint but familiar.

"Ouch!" The helmet made a loud noise as it landed on the worktop, even though it hadn't fallen that far. Freya looked at her finger, where blood was welling up from a cut. "Where'd this come from?"

"Dunno. It was here when we got in yesterday," Peredur said.

"It just appeared?"

"I'm sure Darkness knows where it came from."

"Hmm." Freya put her injured finger in her mouth.

"Here." Tilpin reappeared with a paper bag in her hand. "What you asked for, and something else to make you feel better. Put them in boiling water for five minutes."

Freya looked in the bag at the various dried leaves. "What else is in here?" She pulled out a small, brightly coloured square packet. "Oh..."

"I thought they'd be more reliable than what's in the bag. You know, for next time. You don't need to put that in the tea, by the way."

Freya nodded dumbly, embarrassed that someone younger than her was giving her a sex education lesson. Tilpin showed her to the door. "Are you going to tell me who he is?"

"No."

Tilpin grinned and shut the door. Freya sighed before heading back to her room as fast as her head would let her. The trek up the stairs made her feel nauseous and the walk to the door longer than normal but eventually she got there. She let the door shut behind her, went straight into the small kitchen and put the kettle on to boil. She closed her eyes as she waited for the kettle.

"Where were you last night?"

Freya jumped and turned around too fast. Darkness was standing by the window, his back to her.

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you about something."

"And you couldn't have waited until I was in so you could knock instead of letting yourself in?"

"Where were you?"

The kettle clicked. "At yours, actually. Needed to see Tilpin." She put the leaves in a mug and poured the water over them.

"I meant last night."

She turned around to face him again. "I know, but that is none of your business. And in the future I'd rather you didn't just let yourself in."

"I saw Jason."

"How is he?"

"He said some interesting things."

"Did he explain why he attacked Matt?"

"He had reasons, Freya."

"Do not tell me you approve of what he did!"

"I didn't come here to talk about Matt Strikmore."

"Then why are you here?"

"I need to know where you were last night."

"Out." Freya picked up her tea and blew on it.

"Out where?" Darkness advanced on her.

"Out with Lleny. I mean Llenlleawg."

"And is that why you chose not to come and see me?"

"Hey, I didn't even know you wanted me until Tilpin just said." She sipped at her drink. "It can't have been that important or you would have rung me."

"I wouldn't want to interrupt your fucking now, would I?"

Freya almost choked on the tea. "What?!"

"I know about you and him, up in the woods. Is this your way of getting back at me?"

"You? What has this got to do with you? Last night was about me and him. You weren't a part of it – believe me." She put the mug down, spilling some of the tea in the process. "I want you to leave."

"Freya..."

"Don't 'Freya' me. You wanted to see me last night, but not enough to actually pick up the phone and ring me. You slept with a stranger but when a friend was there for me you've got on your fucking moral high horse again. I'm sure you and Jason have something going on, but I'm not really interested." She picked up the mug and took an angry swig, pulling a face at the bitter taste. "I'm going back to bed. I'm sure you can find your way out."

**

The sun was setting as Freya climbed to the top of the hill. She sat down and watched the sky turn crimson over the city.

"This is becoming a favourite spot of yours."

"I thought you'd find me. Apparently you've been keeping close tabs."

Dante walked over and stood behind her. "How are you?"

"Fine, you? Crippled anyone lately?"

"I know it must be difficult for you to understand, but I was doing it for you."

"You crippled a friend for my benefit?" Freya got to her feet. There was a faint wisp of a smell, familiar. The mask. She'd forgotten to ask Darkness about that. "What are you up to, Jason?"

"And why do you think I'm up to something?"

"You saw Darkness. You told him about me and...about last night. You're up to something."

Dante moved quickly and grabbed the hair on the back of Freya's head, wrenching her neck backwards. He bared his teeth at her suddenly exposed throat. "You are not going to ruin this."

Freya wrenched herself free from Dante with a feral snarl. She lowered her chin and unconsciously raised a protective hand to her throat. "If you knew what that meant, Jason..."
Dante grinned and then let out a short, joyless laugh. "Do you take me for a complete ignoramus?"

"You must be if you'd do that to a werewolf. And, worse, to someone who still thinks of you as a friend. There's no insult graver in our society than bearing your teeth at another's unprotected throat. I wouldn't even do that to Fenris. But you're an outsider...so I'm going to pretend you didn't really know what you were doing. Even at your worst, you were never be that dishonourable."

Dante sauntered down the hill slightly, his hands in his jacket pockets. He still wore all white, but it looked tarnished: a little stained and crumpled around the edges. "Strange that you'd talk about honour after what you did here last night."

"Don't start."

He rounded on her. "You don't feel any shame? No sting of regret? No sense of betrayal gnawing at the pit of your stomach?"

Freya folded her arms and favoured Dante with a snort and a small smirk. "Shame? Regret? Betrayal? What are you, Darkness's best man?"

"This has nothing to do with Darkness."

"Really? You show up with a stupid hat for him, and tell him 'interesting things', and now you getting on my case is just a coincidence is it?"

"Not a coincidence: there are no coincidences. Not for him and I. But this isn't about Darkness's honour – it's about yours."

"You've picked a fine time to start caring about my honour, Jason." Freya put her hands on her hips now. "But you've piqued my curiosity. What's your problem, dickhead?"

"I saw you last night, Freya, with your little friend. It was...educational...I've spent a lot of time familiarising myself with the ways of my allies and my enemies in the past few months, but I'd never seen werewolves mating. Most enlightening."

"You're a pervert, Dante. What would your wife say?"

"I'm a pervert?!" Dante roared, suddenly surging towards Freya, "I wonder what Darkness would say if he'd seen you."

Freya sneered. "What is your deal? So I had sex with someone who wasn't Darkness – why is that a problem for you?"

"I told you this has nothing to do with Darkness."

"Then what the hell is the problem?"

Dante shook his head. "As if you don't know. I've done some depraved things in my life, but nothing close to what you did."

"Excuse me?"

"I saw it: the way you and he changed. The way you warped from man to beast and back again. Oh, sometimes you transformed together, but there were times, Freya...there were times..."

"Oh you've got to be kidding me!" Freya threw up her arms and started walking away.

Dante reached out and grabbed her arm, spinning her around to face him with shocking strength. "It's the irony that gets me, you see. This is a war for Darkness's soul, I see that now: man versus demon, his humanity against his Infernal side. I see the way he looks at you, and I know in the part of my mind that is still connected to his how he feels about you, so that's how I knew you'd be the biggest obstacle in my mission. But to see you as I saw you last night, in congress with a brute beast, moaning like a whore as that hairy thing dug its claws into you..."

Freya pulled herself free of him for the second time in less than five minutes. "Fucking hell, Dante. Are you some kind of moron? I'm a werewolf and so is Llenlleawg. We're not humans or wolves: we're both and neither. I'm the same person whatever form I'm in, and so is he. You might as well call someone depraved for having sex in a different position to their partner, or for wearing different clothes. That's all it is: one being, two forms. I thought that you of all people would understand that, White Dragon."

Dante got that smile on his face again, a sick, demented grin, contrasting horribly with the furious fire in his eyes. "Of course, Freya, it doesn't really matter what I think, or what you say. What matters is what Darkness thinks. He already believes you betrayed him – I wonder how much worse he'll feel when he knows how you did it?"

"So you didn't tell him everything then?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I wanted to give you the opportunity to do the honourable thing. I wanted to let you stand down, and allow me to complete what I've begun here. I still feel some affection for you, Freya. I only want good things for you, and I have good reasons to believe that you'll be important in the wars that are coming. So, for your own safety, it's time for you to stand aside for the good of this world. Let me give Darkness the Crown of Hades. Let me restore him to his rightful place."

Freya stared at Dante for a long time. "Don't talk shit," she finally said.

"You'll force me to, Freya. If you resist me, I'll go to Darkness and I'll give him the vision of what I saw. We can do that, you know, he and I. Share minds. He'll see through my eyes, and witness for himself what you did in this spot, less than twenty-four hours ago. He'll make up his own mind about you then."

"He's not so shallow as you..."

"Isn't he? You have no idea what you mean to him, Freya of clan Gar'leth. Already your hold on him is tenuous, and it will only take a small push for him to become sundered from you forever. So step aside and let me make him a Prince of Hell. Then, when the dust has settled, maybe you can build a life with him after all."

"What makes you believe I'd even want that?" she asked haughtily.

"I don't have to believe anything," Dante said, leaning close and speaking in a low whisper, "because this is all up to you now. You're the variable, not me. If you care about him – if you care about yourself – you'll back off and let me finish what I started. It's a simple ultimatum. Stay and die, or walk away and live."

"You'd kill me?"

"Not me: him. Think about it. He's already broken his vow to kill no humans. He's punished abominations before. Are you so sure he wouldn't turn on you? You can smell his feelings: tell me, when was the last time you caught a whiff of mercy from that man? He's a ticking bomb, she-wolf. Don't make me light the fuse."

* * *

Darkness was alone. He stood, looking out into the night with the lights in his apartment off. The Children had instinctively scattered as he'd arrived, smelling his mood and taking the hint without him having to say a word. In the dark, he could see out into the city without any reflection marring his view. The lights appeared strangely coloured to his trans-human eyes, as if filtered through a layer of grime and filth. He knew it was almost exactly that that was causing it: clouds of pollution, belched forth by Beijing, the sum of human effluence, besmirching the air.

Humans.

They held in their hands the most precious jewel of all. Earth was a bountiful paradise, an Eden, and their greed and short-sightedness was gradually eroding it. Why was he fighting to save a world that its inhabitants cared nothing for? Why was he protecting men like MacDonald, who were trying to distract their gullible supporters with destructive and unjust wars? Or men like Cain, who fed people to a beast from beyond the Afterdark in support of a cause he could barely understand? Why shouldn't he visit swift and brutal justice on such individuals? He was supposed to save the world, wasn't he? Apophis was not his only enemy...

The green-yellow lustre to the lights reminded him of something else too. He remembered when he saw the whole world through that greenish cast: when Dante had infected him with a demonic serum years before. He'd always considered that a monstrous violation, but it had resulted in him becoming what he was born to be, giving him a demonic strain and making him an Infernal. Dante, in a way, had delivered him.

"And I can again, brother."

Darkness turned around and met Dante's eyes. "I didn't feel you come in."

"Because, as we grow closer in temperament, in mind, we become one and the same. Two sides of the same coin. Black and white: yin and yang."

"I haven't made my decision yet, Dante."

"I know, but your heart tells you what is right, doesn't it? You know it is your destiny to take up the Crown of Hades. You and I were born to rule together. We are Infernals. We are beyond humanity and its petty understanding of right and wrong. We are conquerors: heroes of legend. It is time to put aside the mantle of the man and take up the cloak of the demon. It is time for you to descend to your rightful place."

"No!" Freya burst through the door, eyes wide.

Dante regarded her coolly and then shook his head sadly. "A pity. There was a part of me that once held you in very high esteem, Freya Green."

Darkness too gave her a cold look. "I don't want you here, Freya."

"Well I am here. And I'm not leaving."

"You're not welcome," Darkness said, his voice oddly drained of emotion. He felt nothing for her now. He felt nothing for anything. He was as hard as stone, because he had to be. He had learned that hard lesson deep beneath Tokyo, battling the Abyssal Spawn. If he'd given in and let it dig its claws into his soul, he'd have been beaten. He'd locked himself behind walls of steel for his own protection and, by extension, the protection of the world.

"Not welcome? After all we've been through?"

Darkness put his good hand on the door handle. "I've chosen my side."

"And it's his?" She pointed at Dante. "The guy who poisoned you? The guy who took your belts that first time? The guy who blew off your hand? The guy who blasted you out of a building and nearly killed you?"

"Brothers fight," Dante said from across the room.

"He's not your fucking brother! He's just Dante! And he's an idiot!"

"He's my brother."

"No, he's a twat. And if you follow a twat, what does that make you, eh?"

"The Lord of Hades." Darkness was already starting to close the door on her when a figure loping down the corridor drew his attention.

"Uh...what's going on?" Llenlleawg looked concerned and a little nervous. "I heard some shouting and felt...some stuff. Is everyone okay?" He poked his head around the door and Darkness backed away.

For a second, Dante's composure seemed to waver. "You shouldn't have come here, werewolf," he said.

"Oh, hey, Dante. Haven't seen you in a while. What's up?"

"Llaenlleawg," Freya said softly, "this isn't really a good time."

"Why? What's happening? Are you telling Darkness about..."

"Llenlleawg, seriously," Freya snapped.

Darkness's face clouded over. "No, let him talk. I want to hear it from his own mouth."

The young werewolf suddenly looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights. "Um..." he said.

Darkness shook his head. "This is a betrayal, Neophyte. I took you in as a protégé, sought to be your mentor, and this is how you repay me? By taking what is mine?"

"Hey, I'm not yours," Freya said, pushing Llenlleawg aside.

"Stay out of this – this is between me and the boy."

"Darkness..." it was Dante who spoke this time. "We have no time for this. This warg-spawn is nothing to you. Just a meaningless part of a forgotten life."

"No! He betrayed me!"

"She betrayed you! She was getting back at you, remember? She forsook you in your hour of need."

"I'd never do that," Freya said, "remember how I came for you? When you were on the crane in Las Vegas, I led The Children and Selenia and fought off the vampires. When Skaar was torturing you in his dungeons, I helped rescue you."

"I was there both those times too," Dante reminded him.

"But you weren't there when he went gallivanting off to my village. You'd have ruined everything if I hadn't helped you bridge the gaps, Darkness. Without me, you'd never have had The Children by your side. You'd be dead already. And I stopped you killing Revenant. You owe me, Buffy – way more than you owe him. I never turned on you: not once. Brothers fight, but you and I have never had more than a cross word outside the ring. That has to count for something."

Darkness was still staring at Llenlleawg. "You might be right," he eventually said, "it's not you I'm mad at." Without warning, he took a mighty swing and felled Llaenlleawg with a huge right hook. "That's for sleeping with the woman I'm in love with!" he bellowed.

The room fell silent. Freya and Dante both stared at Darkness.

"What?" he demanded. "Is there a problem here?"

Llenlleawg was scrambling to his feet. He didn't look angry: he looked hurt, and confused. Darkness immediately softened. He reached out a hand, but the werewolf backed away and then darted out of the door and down the hall.

"Well, I should be going," Dante said.

Darkness rounded on him. "Leaving so soon?"

Dante curled his lip. "It's obvious to me which side you've picked, Nightwalker. Anger? Love? I thought you were beyond such things. I thought you were stone. Stone does not lash out at those that betray it."

"He didn't betray me – he just made a mistake."

"Well, he's only human," Dante snorted.

"No, he isn't. And neither am I. That's what makes holding out what humanity I have left so vital. I'm sorry, Jason, but I won't be going with you to Hell. You can take your crown with you."

"No, it's I who am sorry, Darkness," the other man sneered, "sorry for the opportunity you've missed. We could have been gods. We could have saved this world. I hope, when the Final Battle comes, and you're still bogged down in your soap opera, you'll remember that you're the only one to blame for the downfall of the universe itself."

Without a backward glance, Dante turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.

* * *

Llenlleawg fled down the corridor, holding a hand to his jaw where Darkness's punch had connected. He was bleeding, but he knew the wound would heal. Already his regenerative powers had improved since he had first transformed, but he felt there was something else to it too. Gawain had told him that that first rush of heightened sensation would pass, but he could still feel it. He felt like the whole world was opening out in front of him, as if he could smell and taste everything that was happening, everything that had happened...maybe even everything that was going to happen...

"Wait!"

Llenlleawg turned around and saw a figure in white jogging towards him.

"What do you want?" he asked with a snarl.

"To talk to you," Dante said, his face becoming suddenly kindly. "Llenlleawg, isn't it?"

"Pronounced it right first time," he nodded, impressed.

"I'm a quick learner," Dante said, "and so are you, I think."

"Thanks."

Dante encircled the young werewolf in his arm. "It doesn't have to be this way you know," he said conversationally, "you don't have to take that kind of shit from a man like Darkness. You don't."

"I don't?"

"No, of course not. There are always alternatives. There are always other paths. Come: walk with me."

With his arm still around his shoulder, Dante led Llenlleawg down the darkened corridor.

"No, of course not. There are always alternatives. There are always other paths. Come: walk with me."

With his arm still around his shoulder, Dante led Llenlleawg down the darkened corridor.

”You have to understand, Llenlleawg. Darkness is conflicted, he has this problem with you and...”

”Freya?”

Dante nodded.

”In really don't think it...”

”It's a thing he should have a problem with?” Dante half asked and half finished the sentence for Llenlleawg.

”Yeah...I mean, she was with him, but she...”

Dante stopped and again nodded.

”She went with you.”

”Yeah.”

”And when did you become the alpha male of the flock, Llenlleawg?”

”Huh?” Llenlleawg asked perplexed.

Dante looked at the young werewolf, behind the brawny exterior was still at best a young adult and at worst an old child. Llenlleawg was brash, tough and was becoming demanding as suited a man who was half wolf. Dante knew that this young werewolf was in need of guidance and to be tutored.

Suddenly the legs of the albino grew weak and he almost dropped to his knees, before his eyes flashed an infinite possibilities, before him flashed the threads of the future. Experience is a great teacher and it had taught Dante that he needed to weave the threads of the future to have a chance to reach his goal. He regained his composure and looked at the surprised Llenlleawg and knew what to do.

”And when did you become the alpha male of the flock, Llenlleawg?” he asked again.

“I heard you the first time.” ”And when did you become the alpha male of the flock, Llenlleawg?” Llenlleawg replied.

Inwardly, Dante smiled. Perfect, the reply had not been defensive, there had been slight a tone of confrontation in it. Dante liked what he heard.

“Of course you did. But you didn't answer it.”

“No, I didn't.”

“Why?”

Llenlleawg paused and looked at Dante. The half-demon's powers read the young werewolf's surface thought and felt the conflict, the conflict between the needs of the group and the needs of him as an individual.

“Because I'm not our leader.” came the reply.

Dante looked at him and felt the “yet” drift in the air, but the young half-wolf didn't wish to presson that yet.

“Do you think Darkness is a poor leader?”

“No.”

The reply was quick, sure and had little doubt in it. Llenlleawg wanted to grow, but not outgrow anyone yet.

“Neither do I.” Dante said.

The only reply he got from Llenlleawg was a surprised look.

“ Llenlleawg, try to stay away from Freya, Darkness is protective of her...not that she needs it of course.”

Llenlleawg nodded, then he grinned.

“Freya doesn't like you all that much.” Llenlleawg mused.

“No, no she doesn't. I remind her of something she has lost.”

Llenlleawg raised an eyebrow.

“Her groove, Llenlleawg, her groove.” Dante said with a grin. Then his face grew serious.

“Don't mess with Freya, Llenlleawg. She can make you lose things.”

“Lose things?” Llenlleawg asked.

Dante held up his hand and showed the werewolf his amputated ring-finger.

“Things you rather hold on to.” Dante said. “And what's worse...if she doesn't get you...”

“Yeah?”

“I will.” Dante said before patting the large man on the shoulder.

“See you, Llenlleawg. Nice talking to you.”

********

A scent few minutes later, Jason Dante walked into his penthouse apartment. He sighed and dropped off his coat on the floor before walking up to the desk he kept in one end of his living room. He signed as he looked at a small collection of photos on the desk. He tipped his head backwards.

“Does it ever get easier?”

”Not that I ever noticed.” came the reply.

“I was afraid you'd say that.”

”Having regrets already?”

“No. It's just that...It's just that I feel so.”

He paused as he realized that he was alone again. He cursed and poured a pointless whiskey and downed it as he walked over to the door. As he reached the large oaken surface, he started to count backwards from 5.

“5...4...3...2...1” As the last syllable of the one rang out there was a knock on the door. Dante waited a few seconds before he opened the door.

“Ms. Stern. What owes me this unexpected pleasure.”

“Can it, Dante.” Valarie Stern said and walked in.

“By all means, do come in, milady...makes yourself at home.” Dante said below his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Dante, I'm here for two reasons.”

“I see.” Dante said taking a seat and inviting Stern to do the same.

“As you have probably wondered, someone made certain moves to end your “banishment”.”

“Ugly word...But yes, I assume that someone is you?”

“Yes, and that brings me to the second reason I came to see you.”

Dante nodded. As stern started to speak again, Dante listened with baited breath, he even ignored read the surface thoughts of his “guest”.