The Nephilim were once again in the library at Anne's request. Hypatia asked Salomé to watch Adeline while the teenagers entertained Remy so she could be present this time, too. The other family members joined as well, curious about what had occurred. Thomas stood behind his wife at her desk. Joan's letter lay in front of her.

"Have we checked all the rooms?" asked Anne, directing her attention to the entire group.

"There are only so many places she can be," answered Richard with a sigh. "She is no longer within the walls of the Sanctum."

"What about the village?"

"Anne, she didn't go out for a stroll."

"Oh, for Heaven's sake, just check if she's in the village!"

Richard met Thomas' gaze. He nodded. Though he was certain Joan wouldn't be in the area anymore, it was better to be safe than sorry.

"Voy con él." Juan kissed Olympe on the cheek and left with Richard.

"We will go too." Fleur and Esperanza stepped forward. "We'll cover more ground."

Carlos came to stand with them.

"No, you'll stay here, where you're safe," said Anne sharply.

"Actually... they could help." Thomas put his hand on her shoulder.

Anne groaned and sat back in her chair.

"Fine, go." She waved them away.

Olympe offered to guide them to the training room to get the weapons and took Carlos by the arm to go after the girls, who practically ran out of the library. Only Hypatia remained in the library with Anne and Thomas. He noticed his fellow magician's scrunched brows and pursed lips.

"Hypatia, I can hear the wheels of that brilliant mind of yours at work," he said. "Care to share?"

"I was just thinking; how about we try to find Joan through a tracking spell?"

"But which one? Most would require something personal of hers."

"I have Joan's tears; we could try with those."

"Joan's tears? How did you...? Never mind, that might work. Go prepare everything in the Vault. I'll join you in a moment."

She left forthwith, and Thomas knelt beside Anne on one knee, his eyes narrowing in concern as she wiped a tear away. He hated seeing her like this. Times like these — which didn't come too often — made him wish she had never accepted the position as leader. She cared too much, especially when things went wrong and she was powerless to act.

"Anne, talk to me," he urged her.

"I promised Gabriël I would take care of her," she sniffled.

"It's not our fault Joan left of her own accord."

"I should have known something was wrong. None of it made sense. Gabriël leaving like that, Joan shutting us out... We should've kept a better eye on her. Then she wouldn't have met with Lucifer." A surge of anger had Anne pushing herself out of her chair, prompting Thomas to rise. "Merde! How could we let this happen?"

"Love, please, calm down. None of this is on us."

"It is, Thomas, and you know it. We forgot about Joan because of what Borgia did. I made everyone focus on him and our families instead of protecting her. God, if I had only been in the hall a few minutes earlier, she couldn't have —"

Anne suddenly fell silent. Her eyes widened.

"What?" asked Thomas. "Anne, what is it?"

"The white flash."

"The what? There hasn't been a —"

"No, not now. Before. There was a white flash when I met Catherine and Margaret in the hall. But neither of them is an Archangel, and no one else came in with them. But someone went out."

Thomas stared and grabbed her by the shoulders.

"Anne, think carefully about what you're saying."

"I know, it doesn't make any sense, but I know what I saw, Thomas. The girls even asked me about it, and I told them it means..."

"An Archangel enters or leaves the Sanctum," finished Thomas. "So... did Michael screw up in banishing Joan? Or did God intervene?"

"What if it's not Joan?"

Thomas gasped. Of course...

"I need to tell Gabriël," Anne said then. "He needs to know."

"Hurry back. I'll work on the spell with Hypatia. We may get lucky and find Joan. The sooner she's back here, the better."

***

𝔊𝔞𝔟𝔯𝔦ë𝔩,
𝔅𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰, ℑ'𝔩𝔩 𝔟𝔢 𝔤𝔬𝔫𝔢. 𝔄𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔰𝔲𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔡, ℑ 𝔪𝔞𝔡𝔢 𝔞 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔩 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔏𝔲𝔠𝔦𝔣𝔢𝔯 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔥𝔬𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔦𝔱 𝔞𝔰 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤 𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔬𝔢𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔞𝔪𝔢. 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔣𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔦𝔫 𝔢𝔵𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔪𝔢. ℑ 𝔪𝔞𝔡𝔢 𝔰𝔲𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔲𝔰 𝔴𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔟𝔢 𝔰𝔞𝔣𝔢. 𝔚𝔢'𝔯𝔢 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔬𝔫.
𝔄𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔫𝔬 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯 𝔟𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔳𝔦𝔠𝔢, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔠𝔞𝔫 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔶 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔙𝔞𝔩𝔢 𝔞𝔰 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔫𝔢𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬. 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔡𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔞 𝔠𝔥𝔬𝔦𝔠𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰. 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔙𝔞𝔩𝔢 𝔫𝔢𝔢𝔡𝔰 𝔞 𝔏𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔓𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔠𝔱𝔬𝔯. 𝔄𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔡, 𝔐𝔦𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔢𝔩 𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔢. 𝔅𝔢𝔠𝔞𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔥𝔢 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴𝔰, 𝔞𝔰 ℑ 𝔡𝔬, 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲'𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔬𝔫𝔩𝔶 𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴𝔰 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔥 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔙𝔞𝔩𝔢 𝔟𝔶 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱. 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔩𝔰, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔠𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔰. 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔠𝔞𝔫 𝔡𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰.
ℑ 𝔡𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔬𝔯 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔴𝔢'𝔩𝔩 𝔰𝔢𝔢 𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔥 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫. ℑ𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔶 𝔴𝔞𝔶 𝔱𝔬 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔠𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔏𝔲𝔠𝔦𝔣𝔢𝔯 𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔞𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔢, ℑ 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩. 𝔄𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔴𝔢 𝔡𝔬 𝔰𝔢𝔢 𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔥 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯, ℑ'𝔩𝔩 𝔞𝔰𝔨 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔤𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔡𝔬𝔲𝔟𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔶𝔬𝔲. 𝔄𝔫𝔡 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 ℑ 𝔰𝔞𝔦𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲.
ℑ 𝔫𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔡 𝔶𝔬𝔲, 𝔊𝔞𝔟𝔯𝔦ë𝔩. 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔪𝔶 𝔞𝔤𝔬𝔫𝔶; 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔪𝔶 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢. 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔞𝔩𝔴𝔞𝔶𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔬𝔫 ℑ 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 𝔬𝔫, 𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔪𝔢 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 ℑ 𝔫𝔢𝔢𝔡𝔢𝔡 𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔬𝔫𝔢. 𝔈𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔭𝔶𝔯𝔢, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔪𝔢... 𝔦𝔫 𝔪𝔶 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱.
𝔗𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔟𝔞𝔟𝔶 — 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔟𝔞𝔟𝔶 — 𝔤𝔯𝔬𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔦𝔫𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔢. 𝔍𝔢 𝔱'𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔢 𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔠 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔪𝔬𝔫 𝔠œ𝔲𝔯. 𝔜𝔬𝔲, 𝔪𝔶 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢. 𝔄𝔫𝔡 𝔫𝔬𝔟𝔬𝔡𝔶 𝔢𝔩𝔰𝔢.
𝔑𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔤𝔢𝔱 𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢, 𝔊𝔞𝔟𝔯𝔦ë𝔩.
𝔊𝔬𝔬𝔡𝔟𝔶𝔢, 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔫𝔬𝔴.
𝔍𝔬𝔞𝔫
𝔓𝔖 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔟𝔞𝔟𝔶'𝔰 𝔪𝔬𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔩𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔶, 𝔡𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔨 𝔦𝔱'𝔩𝔩 𝔟𝔢 𝔞 '𝔫𝔬𝔯𝔪𝔞𝔩' 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔤𝔫𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔶 — 𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔐𝔦𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔢𝔩, 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔲𝔰. 𝔉𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔣𝔞𝔪𝔦𝔩𝔶.

Gabriël stared at Joan's letter. He read those last lines over and over again. His hands trembled. His eyes stung with tears. Catherine told him they'd found Joan's room empty. Anne had immediately roused her husband and the other Nephilim. Thomas had sealed the Sanctum with an incantation so no one could leave, but it was already too late. Joan had disappeared, leaving three letters behind. One for Anne, explaining how Gabriël had secured her family's safety. One for her mother, which Margaret took straight to Isabelle. Gabriël held the third letter in his hands.

"Are you all right?" asked Catherine as she stood at his shoulder. "What does it say?"

"She... left with someone," he replied, shaking. "She urges me to stay here until Michael is found."

"Do you know this person she's with? Will he keep her safe?"

Gabriël gave a curt nod.

"I believe so. But it's not Joan that I'm worried about."

"The baby." Catherine sighed. "I don't understand. Why did she leave the Sanctum? She was safe there. Why would she take such a risk?"

"She wants to protect the people she loves. And she wanted to correct my mistake."

Gabriël clenched his fist, crumpling the letter. Catherine put her arms around him and stroked his back to calm him.

"Tell me how I can help," she said.

"There's nothing any of us can do, Cate," said Gabriël. "Our only hope, ironically, is Michael. We need to find him as soon as possible. Until he's back, I'm stuck here."

"Maybe the Nephilim can help in the search as well?"

"They can't cross realms. And they have enough responsibilities and worries as it is. If word spreads among them that Michael is missing..."

"Just the Resia order, then."

"Cate, I can't just —"

At that moment, a neatly folded piece of paper popped out of nowhere. It landed on the table next to them. Gabriël took it, frowning when he recognised Peter's neat handwriting.

"Anne Boleyn is here. She needs to see me urgently."

"Maybe they found Joan! Let's go, hurry!"

"Hold on. I need to get something first."

Gabriël ran back into Michael's private chambers. He walked over to the bed and moved it. It was a long shot, but he had to see if the weapon was there. He tapped the floor three times and watched the stone disappear, revealing a wooden case. Within it lay the Lord Protector's sword. The one Michael used to cut Joan's wings. The one Gabriël destroyed during his escape. Heaven's Fire within the sword had reforged it to its original state.
Gabriël stared at it for a few seconds, then grabbed the weapon. He didn't know why. Something in him just made him do it. He felt a burning sensation in his arm as he touched the hilt, but ignored it. Pain would not stop him from doing the right thing. 

***

Anne tapped her fingers restlessly against the wooden post of Peter's door. She straightened herself at the sound of wings flapping in their descent.

"Anne!" Gabriël landed in front of her. "Did you find her?"

"Not yet. I have Juan and Richard searching Resia and the surroundings. Some family members offered to help. But I'm actually here for you." Anne directed her attention to Catherine, who touched the ground right after Gabriël.

"Me?" Catherine frowned in surprise.

"When you entered the Sanctum, you were alone with Margaret, right? There wasn't an Archangel near you? I know I asked you this then as well, but I need to be certain."

"It was just the two of us."

Anne turned back to Gabriël. "Whenever Joan went through the Sanctum doors, she was always with you, correct?"

"I think so. Except for that one time with Raphael, when she snuck out with him and came back in with him as well."

"That's why we never noticed before. Of course, it makes perfect sense now!"

"What does? Anne, why all these questions?"

She clicked her tongue impatiently.

"When Margaret and Catherine arrived at Resia, there was a white flash. As you know, this only happens when an Archangel enters or leaves the Sanctum. But neither of them is an Archangel, and Catherine confirmed they were alone. I took them straight to Joan's room, but she had already left."

"Yes, and?" 

"Gabriël, she had literally just left. No Archangel came in, but one left. We just never knew we had one among us."

"Hold on, you're not suggesting that...? No, that's impossible." Gabriël shook his head. "Joan doesn't have her wings anymore. She's a Fallen Angel. There is no way she can... Right?"

"You tell me. Either Michael failed in banishing her somehow, which I doubt, or..."

"Or?"

"Or it's not Joan who's the Archangel."

Catherine gasped, and both women looked at Gabriël, but he was too shocked to say anything. He dropped onto a chair at the table.

"Joan's body and mind were under enormous strain when we first brought her to the Sanctum," said Anne. "There was no way to tell when and if she became an Archangel. She was always with you or Raphael when going through the doors. So either the Lord Himself had a hand in this, or... the baby is an Archangel. It's your child, Gabriël, so the latter seems the most likely."

Anne couldn't imagine what was going on inside the Archangel's mind right now. She still had a hard time accepting the truth herself. But this was good. Even if the baby only possessed the smallest trace of Archangel blood, it still could protect Joan until she gave birth. This gave them extra time — precious time. But only by so much. If Lucifer exposed the newborn baby to the same darkness that turned him...

"The rune," murmured Gabriël suddenly.

Anne furrowed her brow and meant to ask what he meant, but the Archangel was already back on his feet.

"Thank you for letting me know, Anne. Please inform me if you find Joan and keep your families in the Sanctum. Cate, find Isabelle, Marina and Raphael. I will join you at the Hospitium. There's something I need to check."

***

Michael felt another Archangel near. That in itself wasn't so strange, as he was the Lord Protector, but the aura of this one felt odd. Different, even. Close and yet far away. It was the strangest sensation.

"You're doing it again."

Michael jumped at the voice behind him. Lucifer... He really had to stop sneaking up on people.

"You are staring into nothing. Again. Forgetting where you are. And, more importantly, who you are with."

Lucifer closed the distance between them and stole a kiss from Michael's lips. He was right. Michael had completely forgotten where he was. He looked around and recognised the armoury. He looked at himself and at Lucifer. They were both in training gear, though they had neglected to wear their padded vests.

That's not right, thought Michael. I always wear... 

He blinked, and the vest was in his hand. Had he been holding it the entire time?

"Sorry I ruined your vest," said Lucifer, a tinge of shame in his voice. "Guess my swing's improving. All thanks to you."

Another kiss. Longer this time. Michael remembered now. They'd been training together. Lucifer had surprised him with a sudden blitz attack and slashed straight through the vest, which wasn't easy to do with... actual swords? Why had they been using those?

"How about next time we stick with the practice swords?" Lucifer reached for Michael's sword, who handed it over. "Our clothes will be grateful to us."

The cold tip of his sword was suddenly at Michael's throat. The Archangel stood paralysed, confused at what was happening.

"But if you ask me," continued Lucifer, "I prefer you like this. Or with even less on."

Lucifer pushed Michael against the wall, pressing their bodies together, the sword still between them. Blood trickled down their chests. The blade cut them both, but neither seemed to notice.
Their lips touched. Softly at first, but then urging. Full of passion. Lucifer put one hand on Michael's neck; the other still held the sword. But his grip weakened. Michael pulled Lucifer closer, sliding one arm around his waist. He traced his lover's marble-like body with the tip of his fingers. The sword dropped, and Lucifer's hand was on his chest. Michael's wound healed at a single touch, as did his own. But the blood remained on Lucifer's fingers.

De-il...

Michael heard a distorted voice echoing faintly. He couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman.

Devil...

"Lucifer, hold on." He tore away from his lover's lips. "Did you hear that?"

Devil... Trick... Dream...

"Lucifer, enough." Michael tried to push his partner away, but Lucifer continued to pepper him with hungry kisses.

Danger... Dream... DANGER!

Michael's instincts took over. He grabbed Lucifer's wrist with inhuman speed and threw him back against the sword cabinet. 

"I said enough, Lucifer!"

"Michael, calm down!" exclaimed Lucifer, taken aback by Michael's sudden outburst. "What's got into you all of a sudden?"

"I... I do not..." Michael searched his surroundings with frenzied eyes. "T-There was this voice. I-It said... I..." 

"A voice? What voice?"

"I-I am not sure. I cannot... I..."

"You can't, what? What, Michael?"

"I don't know!" 

Michael's heart raced in his chest. This wasn't right. He wasn't right. His time with Lucifer wasn't now. He hadn't been with him in over seventeen centuries. Lucifer was gone. Perished by Heaven's Fire. Yet here he was. Michael held him. Touched him. Kissed him. Made love to him.
He dropped to his knees, clinging to the raven-haired Archangel. What was happening? Was he reliving the past? Were these memories come back to haunt him? No, he didn't recall ever being in the armoury with Lucifer like this, so this couldn't be a memory. What was it then?

"Nothing makes sense anymore." Michael's voice broke. "I cannot shake this awful feeling that something is... wrong. I sense another Archangel, but one that is unknown to me. His voice speaks to me. Or hers, maybe. I can barely make out the words. And then there is us. Something feels wrong with us. I-I do not remember... this. Lucifer, I am frightened, I... I do not —"

"Ssh." Lucifer crouched down to Michael's level and lifted his chin. "The voice is only your imagination. There is no other Archangel. You are the only one here, Michael."

"And you." Michael gripped Lucifer tightly. "There is you."

"But I am no longer an Archangel, am I? And there is no more 'us'. You sought to that."

Michael froze at seeing Lucifer's obsidian eyes had narrowed to a hostile glare. All the desire he'd seen within them was gone. He remembered meeting a similar look, heavy with a want for revenge, only recently. And a place hidden within a realm of eternal night... and dreams. 

"The Dream Realm," he muttered. "Samael."

"There you go." The corner of Lucifer's mouth curled up in a grin. "I was wondering how long it would take until you broke through the haze and regained your memories."

"Lucifer!" Michael pushed himself away. "What is this? What did you do to me?"

"Nothing yet. But don't worry; I'm only getting started. You see, Michael, this is your punishment. Your own personal Hell. And since I rule all of Hell, I now rule you. I can make you forget or relive what I want. I can even make you do things you never did. And no one, not even darling Gabriël, will ever find you. Your body, your mind, your very soul, all of you... belongs to me."

Lucifer's diabolical smirk was the last thing Michael saw of him as the Devil disappeared before his eyes. He found himself in an empty room. No cabinets, no weapons, no windows or doors. Just a single light shining from above, streaming from a poppy-shaped hole. Michael stared at it. He remembered now. Coming to the Dream Realm to stop Morpheus from freeing the Horsemen, Samael's monstrous visage, drinking the spiked wine... He'd fallen right into a trap. 

Morpheus must have put me in his Dream Chamber, he pondered. My body is out in the world, but my mind is trapped by the poppy essence and his magic. I must break free. But I cannot do it alone.

Michael bowed his head and spread his arms, the palms of his hands raised. He searched his surroundings and prayed to the Archangel who had saved him. It was his only hope.

I do not know you, but I sense you are one of us. The union of the forces of the Circles and the Dream Realm are too strong for me. By the Grace of the Lord and all his angels, I pray you; help me. Liberate me from my prison and aid me in vanquishing our foe. Find me.