(A/N: image up top is rhamiel, I buy a lot of commissions, so this isn't by me.)

"It'd be safest to just take you to Heaven," I said to Rhamiel, walking back towards the elevator.

"The cycle change is in a few days," he said, and I was so taken aback that I forget to answer for a few moments.

"How do you even know what that is?"

"Qui?" He asked sarcastically. 'What' in angelic. Real smooth, asshole, I wasn't a fucking idiot.

"Are you implying you want to go to Earth instead? Fine. No difference to me." Hell had its policies against letting the humans know about the city, but it didn't matter much if something went wrong- they'd just reset within nineteen years anyway. What a simple, useful system we lived in.

"Arm me," Rhamiel said, and I had a suspicion it'd be pointless to press him further.

We weren't far from the elevators when I heard someone shouting my full name. Far down the hall, the leo was jogging towards us in a perfectly balanced way, suggesting she was a lot healthier than she looked underneath her baggy uniform.

"Wait up!" She called, but we had already stopped. Rhamiel looked at her with something I took to be anticipation, and I gloomily noted he was watching her hands with great interest. She did have a ring on, but it was a wedding ring, and Rhamiel looked sharply up again.

"What gives?" I said automatically, not really putting much thought into my tone.

"Hi, my name's Lane Brock, and I wanted to talk to you for a second. It was a bit busy back there and Kell thought we sort of overwhelmed you? If you don't mind I'd like to take a detour to a place where I can explain a few things to you." She tensed as she looked at Rhamiel. "And you too, of course. You'll be there."

"You're the chief of police, correct?" The leo was always the chief of police, that's how The Few worked, and I knew that. But still, I asked.

"That is correct. There is a garden not far from here, in Greed, that I though would provide a more private theater for us to talk in."

Lane took us to Greed, and I didn't say anything. She was really doing her best to strike up a chat, and I did want to talk, but I just didn't. Things are like that sometimes.

"Are you and Kell close then?" There's always a few words that can make you pay attention no matter how much of a lull you are in, and I snapped back to the present.

"I don't know really. I think so. Sometimes he's terrible and sometimes he's sincere and I don't know how to deal with that."

"You are then. We don't get along, but I do know he's picky about his friends."

"I don't know about him."

"I don't either."

"I don't want to talk about him."

"I guess I don't want to either," said Lane, absentmindedly kicking up dust clouds as she walked. Obviously she only brought Kell up because she wanted to talk about him, not because she was interested in me.

"Kell is the dragon man, correct? I know all about him," Rhamiel said. He had been speaking more as we walked, but only in small, often nonsensical snippets. "If you fulfill our agreement then I will tell you all about him."

"Ah, is that so?" Lane had this particular way of treating Rhamiel that suggested a mix of sympathy, empathy, and apology.

"He is practically a figure in our mythology. We have a number of names for him and his partner. Lots of killing. Lots of dead brethren. More to be told when our agreement is reached."

"And what is your agreement, Rhamiel?" Lane reminded me of a kindergarden teacher in some way- she was wearing a long, military style off-teal coat with leo patches on the sides over a loose button down, and had square sunglasses perched on her head, but her slightly wrinkled face was abnormally kind, and her very grey hair was thick and... teacher-like. I couldn't quite place it, but she was homely in the proper meaning. Warm.

"Don't use my name while speaking to me. You don't have that right." It sounded like something he should have snapped, but Rhamiel was as calm as ever. "We have an agreement that this Mannie will provide me with a blade. As soon as possible."

"Oh." Lane stared at me. "Oh, that's awfully kind of you."

"Isn't it?" I said bitterly.

We continued on into a moment that would've been quiet if not for the whistling. Rhamiel started suddenly, a jaunty and upbeat song that cycled and cycled until it finally ended with less warning then it began.

There were many halls in Greed I didn't recognize. The place was fucking huge after all. Lane took us down a particularly wide hall, the low hanging lights reminding me of a train station. At the very end were great wooden double doors, followed by lesser wooden doors, and then finally a set of glass doors.

The farms all had their own weather systems, akin to Pride, with artificial sunlight that nearly worked as well as the real thing. The walls were a pale white blue, and the area was as wide as a warehouse. The moisture felt good on my skin, the air nearly real. A row light lamps broke the immersion, descending from the foggy ceiling above.

Before the field began, there was a small terrace with a fairly large tree growing over it. Lane and I sat down at a glass table surrounded by stiff black patio chairs. Rhamiel kept standing, looking at his surroundings with aparent curiosity.

"What's the deal then?" I said, ignoring him. The tree above us had a branch low enough that I could pluck a leaf off- I twirled it in my fingers as we spoke.

"I don't disapprove, per se, of you taking Rhamiel." She did one of those fake coughs to clear her throat. "I do think however that you aren't really aware of what you're doing. And that you don't understand why we even have- er, had him. There are more things in play then simply us being terrible people who torture for fun."

"You're clearly holding something back." I began to tear the leaf apart, vein by vein. "If you don't care to discuss it with Rhamiel present, why don't we leave him here?"

"Is it safe to trust him by himself?" Asked Lane.

"We could try not to be rude and ask him," I said, "Hey Rha- wait here."

"Do not desecrate my name," he said scornfully.

"He'll be fine." I led the way into the fields, down a few stone steps. There was a heavy fog, creating the illusion the rows of crops went on forever. The ceiling was obscured, too, making it seem like the light lamps were hanging from the clouds.

It smelled like a garden. A couple people were scattered throughout, and we walked the perimeter.

"Ah, look, here's the deal. Rhamiel is a key part of our military. Without him we're going to be seeing a lot more casualties."

"He worked with you? And this doesn't seem like anything you couldn't say to his face."

"No, Rhamiel did not fight for us. But the research we've conducted on him has been vital."

"What about peace? You guys are like, trying to make peace with the angels, aren't you? So wouldn't returning a prisoner be good for you, as a sign of good will?"

"They probably are unaware we have him as prisoner," Lane said glumly, "The angels aren't pleased with our prospects, and while the leader Michael is aware of our efforts, he refuses to speak to us. So yes, we're doing our best, but everyday people are still fighting and dying regardless."

"I'm not getting rid of Rhamiel." I had decided that now, no matter how blatant he was being about his malicious intentions towards everyone in Hell. All I needed to do was get away from Lane and get him on an elevator. How difficult was it really going to be?

"I know." Lane sighed heavily. "Why do you have to be so stubborn about this?"

"I promised someone I'd do it. Not actually promise him, but sort of mentally promised him. It's what he would have wanted." That reminded me, I still needed to be on the lookout for Blake. I suppose right now I was tabling that quest for until after I was done with Rhamiel.

"Wait, let me get this straight: you're freeing an angel and, in doing so, getting many killed and making yourself a wanted person, all to impress a boy?"

"That's about right."

"That's silly."

"You're the one still withholding valuable information."

Lane took a deep breath and composed herself. "You've heard what I had to say. You are free to go."

We returned back to the terrace, Lane already exiting the farm.

"I like this place," said Rhamiel, who had managed to climb to the top branches of the tree. "I like this tree."

"We're going now."

"Is Lane going with us?" He climbed down the tree with expertise, hands confidently catching branches and feet carefully finding their place as he descended.

"No."

He quickly swung back to the ground. "That is good. She was odd and strange."

"What do you mean?"

"Old." He closed his eyes. "Women here are so strange. Women in Heaven are beautiful, minor goddesses second only to our mother. Yours are so old, ugly, and sinful."

"Your mother?" I asked.

"Our mother and Brother. Michael."

"Michael's really running a duel job there, huh."

"You have no right to speak his name," Rhamiel said with a huff, the sort that I suspected that meant he was done speaking to me for a while.

"Have you ever considered fixing your posture? Your back will become weak." In spite of his increasingly apparent distaste towards me, Rhamiel had been positively chatty. He had of course only chosen the most meager of topics to talk about, so it wasn't even that I was learning anything new about him. No, it was all about rock textures and cheap shoes and uneven gaits. He had this cocky look plastered on his face the whole time through.

We were at the threshold of Greed again, and I consciously straightened my back as we waited for the elevator to arrive. Since I continued to insist on using the fancy one, we had to wait patiently as it went all the way to Pride, and then finally inched back down to our level.

When it opened, there was a man. As he didn't get out at Greed, we'd have to ride down to his destination of Wrath before we could finally make our way out.

For what was often called an express elevator, this thing was a little more cumbersome than not.

I didn't think a thing of the other guy in the elevator besides taking note of his bad fashion- a bright green striped sweater vest over a too large button up- and the fact that I didn't know him. So he was another employee using doing something he wasn't supposed to. Nothing to worry about.

But Rhamiel had a jerky reaction the moment he stared at this blonde guy's face, suddenly ducking his head down with a faint whimper.

That could mean only one thing: this man was an angel. And considering angels didn't normally stroll around Hell, heading on elevators towards Wrath like they knew what they were doing, I think I knew exactly who this was.

"Percy," I said, leaning back on the elevator doors and facing him.

The man looked shocked, clearly not expecting to be so easily identified.

"It's... Percial to you," He said at last, his face stuck on disbelief.

"Percival?" I tried, thinking I had misheard.

"Percial." He emphasized.

"That's definitely incorrect."

"That's my name."

"What's going on?" I asked him. "What are you doing?"

"How do you know him?" Rhamiel hissed at me, in an altered voice. He definitely knew Percy- if he was an archangel, I would guess all the angels did.

At the same time, Percy asked, "How do you know me?"

"I know a lot of things." I shrugged. Unfortunately, pretending to be important was my ultimate hobby, and I couldn't resist this opportunity. "I know all about you."

Percy stood very still and stiff. He was very tall, and not particularly attractive, and I couldn't imagine Christina actually being in any sort of intimate relationship with him, as Sydney had suggested. To be honest, however, I had generally trouble thinking of anyone being intimate with anyone else. It went with the 'sex-repulsed asexual' territory, I think.

"Did they send you to guide me? Christina gave me instructions, but I will admit I do not know the way," he said. After a beat, he added, "You demons are disgusting."

"Right back at you."

"Who is with you?" Percy asked, leaning over to examine Rhamiel. "He has suffered greatly because of you."

"You're really not holding back on the cheap shots, are you? Not sure how well a peace conference is going to suit you."

Percy was quiet for a while. "I want peace. I am not happy that I want such a thing, but I do, and I will stand before your leaders and say this. But there is no point in explaining myself to you or your wretched companion."

That probably hurt Rhamiel to hear. "Try me, you fuck. We're going to be here for a while."

"You are now being excessively rude," Percy said with a glance towards the elevator's progress towards Wrath. We were nearly there, and he held onto his silence until we arrived.

"The secret meeting room isn't accessible from here," I said, walking out from behind him and stopping him from wandering too close to the guard hellhound. I felt like a complete asshole, and was loving every second of it. Withholding knowledge was my one true love. "Have to head up to Pride again and take another line."

Percy scoffed, but followed me back onto the elevator. "Names."

"Mannie. And my friend here is Ra." Rhamiel again grimaced at my misuse of his name, but continued to look as forlorn as a beat dog, and didn't speak up. I elbowed him politely. "Like the Egyptian sun god, you heathen. Could have come up with a lot worse."

"I'd prefer full names."

"Mannie Ávila. And Ra... Last."

"Both of your names sound like absolute shit," Percy commented.

"And your name is Percial for some reason. Continue."

This seemed to take him aback. "Hm?"

"You were mentioning something about explaining yourself? This is one story I don't know. And believe me, this old thing is going to make our trip a long one."

"I hold a strong dislike of technology." Percy frowned. "Fine. I was exaggerating. My reasons are simple: I know a demon, and lately I care overall more about her not-dying than I do about killing her. She's told me to do this. I am going to do it."

"Very compelling case you're making."

"I am eternally Michael's," Percy said nonchalantly. I knew that he couldn't help his undying loyalty. "Christina is good to me. And Pepper would miss her too much."

"Are you two like, dating?"

"What?" Percy looked disturbed to be asked. "That is not a concern of anyone."

"She's attractive though, right?" I didn't really think so, but I wanted there to be no grey areas in my knowledge of this. I mean, maybe she looked nice. Not my type, but I suppose other people might've- I knew some people who liked her. There was something upsetting about that.

"I don't fully understand the human concepts of sexuality and attraction," Percy said, "Angels are fully chaste, at full risk of felling. As an authority, I would never think to..."

"Okay, okay, I don't really care." A lie. I was wholly too much of a sucker for dumb gossip to not care if Hell was going to finally achieve peace due to some sappy forbidden love story. "Does Michael know about this?"

Rhamiel cringed again, but Percy didn't seem to care. Exposure to non-angels had probably taught him Michael was an exceedingly common name. "Yes. Not everything, but he... he knew before I told him. He's psychic, so I didn't need to explain myself. Just tell him when, and he'd give me his reluctant blessing." We arrived in Pride, and I led him to the proper elevator line, to the pit.

"How do you know he's psychic, as opposed to snooping on you?"

"Hm? He knows before I do. He always does. I do not wish to discuss him any further with you at this time."

"No need to get snappy."

"This whole conversation has primarily been snaps," Percy said, rudely but it somehow stung.

"Uh, sorry," I said, suddenly embarrassed by myself. Did I come off strong, or was I just terrible? Constant mysteries. "...What's Heaven like?"

Percy watched me from the corner of his eye. "Better than Hell."

"You all doing good there?"

"...Yes." I saw something flicker in his face, just for the briefest second, but had no clue what it had been. "Why is your friend quiet?"

"He's shy. I wouldn't press him." When we both looked at Rhamiel, he further flinched, drawing himself into the corner of the elevator and covering his face.

"I'm sorry for him. Scars like that... angels can be felled for disfigurement that bad. I don't wish to know what happened to him."

"Yeah" I said, my sudden mood swing hitting harder than ever. Rhamiel was definitely a dick, but I had come into our one sided relationship with nothing but hostility. Being skinned alive... hurt. Angels were immortal- how long had he been here, trapped in that small white room, tortured? I was that hostile without any hardship.

He may have had an excuse.

And I didn't know where he was going after this, but Percy was right: Michael wouldn't let an angel that scarred back into his flock.

"...Pepper and I have been together all of Heaven, though there never was a start, and I loved her a lot. Being with someone long enough does that to you. I love all my brothers, and I love the Brothers- we have always been one, besides the fallen. And then Pepper fell."

"Now you speak," I said, quietly, not wanting to draw him out of his sudden somber mood.

"I felled her. Blade right through her gut, no time for a trial. Cassiel dragged her away, tossed her to Earth. I had to follow, and never once was it anything other than devotion."

"What was she felled for?"

"Murder," Percy said, like it was an irrelevant detail. "She is so much me. It's been like that. I had to know. Christina took her in off the streets, and I watched from afar until I realized she was a demon- then I came in, ready to gut her. But Pepper told me no. If she can feel that, I knew I could."

"Okay, I get the point. You learned the power of friendship and peace and the magic of being non discriminatory, and that's it?"

Percy blinked. "I suppose so. Weren't you more keen on hearing my story?"

"I thought it'd be less generic."

"Oh. Sorry."

"You did good. Sorry."

Rhamiel idly hissed.

"You should watch yourself," I said, still recovering from that sudden slump of emotions I had stumbled upon. "If this is a meeting with all of The Few... well, not everyone wants peace. I'd be careful."

Percy nodded, and slipped his hand into his pocket. It emerged with a delicate green ring on. An angelsword, I'd have to guess. Probably he wasn't allowed to have that with him.

Maybe I shouldn't have suggested to the by-the-books deadly angel that he could have been in danger. Maybe putting him on edge like that had been a bad idea.

He rubbed his ring as the elevator settled into place with a heavy sound of metal. He closed his eyes and said a brief prayer in angelic to Michael.

I was nervous for what came next.