Enveloped in an infernal shield, Alexander reflected on his actions. In the heat of the moment, it seemed like a fantastic idea to rush in and blast away his husband's attacker. But as a barrage of spears slammed into his weakening defenses, he realized a cautious approach would have been smarter.

A crack resonated inside the shield as a renegade shadow broke through and aimed at the frankly under-prepared demon.

"Enough!" Michael roared. With one swift movement, they pulled back the spears before snapping and casting them away. As for the remaining shadows, Michael forced their will upon it. Like water before oil, it reared back as they kept it at bay. For all its rebelling, the shadows did not forget who their master was.

Still, it was a hollow victory as the renegades found ways around Michael. While they kept them from the demon, they refused to be subdued and rushed to Little Blood.

Michael gave chase, only for Alexander to stop them as several glowing orbs materialized. In multiple tongues, he crafted a spell, and the orbs encircled them. Michael squirmed in their presence as Alexander had formed the ward from the stricter parts of their contract. But, because of this, the shadows receded farther, bringing the confused bloodling along with them.

In this pause, Alexander created a personal space and pulled them both in.

Though Michael was not entirely cut off from the rest of their body, the influence of the bloodling significantly weakened. But it came at a cost as they grew weaker—a side effect of being separated from their whole.

In their temporary safety, Alexander hugged the shade. Though they were freezing, he ignored it as his own burning temperature balanced it out.

"Beloved…" The word was a sigh. "That was dangerous," he scolded, a teasing scold, but a scold none the less. Their decision to head in alone had left their marriage contract a mess and the shadows fighting to overpower it.

"Why are you here?" Michael's voices condensed as they had fewer tones available. "I built that wall for a reason!"

"Don't. Enough of this self-sacrificing nonsense!" Alexander cut them off. "You said together, and I agreed. As much as you wish to protect me, I wish to protect you," he said. "There is no reason to play this game of martyrdom."

Michael paused, their blank face rippling before turning placid. "It wasn't just for you," they said coolly, "I build that wall to protect the Root, to protect the Maiden. I had it under control. Now, if that blood clot notices, he could destroy this place."

"Good thing he's an idiot," Alexander gave a dry laugh as he ran a hand through Michael's shadowy hair. In the calm, the shade had shifted into the form they used in the Overworld. While still hard to read, it was a body the demon knew well. "So, what's the plan?"

"Don't you have one?"

"Why would I? Do you not have one?" He batted back.

"I have a plan, but…"

"I won't like it?" Alexander gave a tired smirk, "tell me."

"I'll merge with the bloodling. He thinks he has power, but he doesn't. It's my shadows that are empowering him. They are also protecting him from my influence and attacking my weakness. To tell the truth, this personal coup is very embarrassing. The shadows are brain dead with only enough to know that allying with Little Blood will give them power, and Little Blood is being guided by said shadows and is ignorant of everything but crusading, and he barely understands that. It's the stupid leading the stupid, yet somehow this little circus has countered me." Michael ranted, then caught themself. "Anyway, I can destroy him if I can get him directly. Without him, the shadows have no rallying point, and I can suppress them."

This plan sounded simple, but Alexander was no fool.

"If you did this, the fragment would break," he said, his eyes narrowing. "Michael, I will not let you throw yourself into the chaos."

"Ah, of course, you noticed," Michael teased, though melancholy haunted their tone. "There's not much else I can do. We're out of time. The fragment is breaking, I'm spilling, and everything is ending. Home Team isn't of use, and I just…" they paused, "I just don't know." The words were low, stilted as all the outcomes swirled through their head. No matter how they worked through the problem, they all ended in one way. They all ended in death.

Dread made the shade's form fluctuate as their control slipped. It was only Alexander's solid touch that kept them stable. Unfortunately, it was a temporary comfort. They were at a crossroads where both paths led to destruction, and they could not go back.

It was lucky then that Michael traveled with a demon who was quite familiar with this path.

"I never said the plan was without merit," Alexander added, dropping his gaze. "I just disapprove of you doing it alone. If you do this, we do it together."

Michael wanted to argue but stop themself. As much as they wished to care for their partner, they also did not deny Alexander's right to choose. Even if that choice was moronic and likely to end with them both floating through Chaos for eternity.

"Fine," they give in, their form sliding up so that they were face to preverbal face. "But you have to follow my lead."

"Of course, beloved, how could I not? Now, explain your real plan."

Michael's plan varied little from what they had told their partner already. Really, they just planned to take on Little Blood and throw themself into the Chaos. They knew they could consume the bloodling and retake control. It was merely a matter of time and space to do it in. The issue was they had no way of getting out of the Chaos once they entered.

"I have a suggestion," Alexander said. "I think I can get us home, or at least heading in the right direction." He had not spent years stealing knowledge and cutting deals to reach the Overworld and not learnt a thing or two about chaos travel. "I'll need time, though, before we leave."

"How much?"

"Enough to do this," Alexander laid out his proposal.

He could only describe it as a mess of an incantation. A theory from here, a spell from there, anything and everything he had gathered in his quest for power. At the heart of it was their marriage contract. It was an intricate work that Alexander considered the masterpiece of his career as a contract demon. He built it from the ground up to adapt to Michael's ever-changing nature. But in doing so, like with all contracts he crafted, it required the consent of a named creature, and his husband's odd existence made that challenging. While Michael operated as the dominant force of their body, they were a chaotic mass of fragmented souls and fractured consciousness at their core. So, if any of these shadows challenged Michael's commands, and they didn't squash it, they ended up in a situation like their current one.

But even as the shadows tried to override, it was a powerful work of magic. Forged in the Overworld, it had not only Alexander's expertise and Michael's power but also the approval and notarization of an Overseer, one of the few lords of the higher plane. The document was inherently tied to the Overworld, which meant it could act as a way-finder. On top of that, Michael's restrictions from the Agency used it as a foundation, and even though these binds broke when they first landed on the fragment, the residual energy remained. With enough tinkering, he figured he could establish a tentative guide to get back home. Also, he theorized the bloodling might have access to a form of in-between travel that would be useful.

Unfortunately, he would first have to partially tear the contract apart before rebuilding it with a new directive. Though this meant he could also introduce harsher restrictions against the rebelling shadows. Did he want to rebuild it? No, but it was not like they hadn't made amendments over the years. Either way, this patch was not the final product. That would be done while they were in the Chaos. This just needed to get the ball rolling.

Michael nodded along. Though they were never talented with contracts and spellcraft, they knew Alexander would need as much as he could get.

"I have a way to distract the shadows," Michael said while looking over their partner. "This isn't your favorite body, is it?"

"I quite like it," Alexander said on instinct before correcting himself. "But it's disposable. What do you suggest?"

"To use it as bait," Michael explained. "You've occupied this form long enough that the shadows won't be able to tell any difference between it and you. They will certainly attack it without a second thought. If Little Blood sees that, I'm sure he will think this is all over, and it will be easy to deceive him."

"Ah, then let me just store a few things." To Alexander, bodies were expendable, though there were some things he wanted to preserve. It was slightly embarrassing to remove parts of his body in front of his partner, but he made do as he stashed them. For a second, he lingered on his glasses. They were part of his look, but he also liked them.

"You have ten sets," Michael tsked.

"And I would have nine if they broke. These were the first anniversary gift you gave me. I can't just let them get destroyed." Alexander frowned.

"They aren't even the originals."

Insult flashed across Alexander's face. But it soon slid into a sigh. "It's a grave sacrifice, but I will make it."

"Anything else?"

The space trembled as the shadows reenacted their old sieging technique and pelted the outside with spears. It proved to be successful as the field began to fall apart.

"No, my eyes will be fine on their own, and the face, well he was a handsome man, wasn't here? Though I have plenty more once we get back home."

"If we get back home."

"We will. I gave Ol' Goat my word. I have to follow through now, or else I will owe him a debt."

Even under siege, the two lingered. For all their cockiness, they stood on the edge. Before them was an abyss of uncertainty, and once they entered it, they might never return. They might never see the Overworld or even solid land ever again. The Chaos was something few naturally traversed. It was a place with no rhyme, no reason, just space. Pure, unending space.

"Last chance," Michael offered, their voice low, "one last chance for you to escape and wait for rescue."

Alexander paused and looked at their partner with a weird expression. It was something caught between doubt, amusement, and insult, but even that was not an apt description. It never ceased to amaze Michael how many expressions their demon made. They wanted to see more, every single emotion that handsome face could convey.

"My own husband thinks me a coward?" The unfiltered expression melted into the demon's usual playfulness as he shook his head. "I've heard such things from the demons of the realms, but my beloved says them too. My heart, it breaks." Even then, he held Michael tight. His clawed hand dug into their shadowy form, which gave way smoothly to the touch. He rested his chin upon the shade's shoulder and whispered. "Never forget. Until the Mother Tree rots, I am yours."

Even as no expression showed on the shade's face, a tangible air surrounded them. Their emotions swayed like a ship caught out in a storm. Eventually, it gave way to something warm and intimate, yet foreboding as Michael nodded. Though they possessed no heart, they felt it sink deep into the pit of their stomach as a contradictory buzz of excitement and dread filled them. Finally, they nodded. "Until eternity's end, I am yours."

"That is our vow." Their voices merged, and before either spoke again, a coolness pressed against Alexander's mouth.

Shadows curled around his lips and caressed his jaw. With a chuckle, he inhaled them in and leaned into his partner. Even as they stole his breath away, he did not waver. Slowly they infused him as the shade's gentle kiss drew him in.

Neither wanted to stop, but the growing thud of spears forced them to end it. Michael pressed their will, and with permission, stole his body.

It took some practice, but they took control of their husband's form. They were not as talented in commanding it, but the jerky mimicry would be enough to fool their enemies.

"Don't enjoy yourself too much," Alexander said. At the moment, he used his remaining hand as a vessel.

"I take no pleasure in this," Michael replied, looking up with lifeless eyes, but then caught themselves. "Are you ready?"

"Of course." At that, he hid among ally shadows and started his spellcraft.

Even with everything prepared, Michael hesitated. The field was collapsing, but still, what laid beyond was something they had never wanted to experience again.

"I love you," they exhaled.

Alexander let out a tired laugh, but he did not deny his own fear. For all he knew, this was his death. Well, he had not lied. The only one who could kill him was his husband.

 "I love you too," his words lingered before he hardened himself, "now let us head home."

As soon as the realm fell away, everything plunged into chaos.

Shadows crashed into the space, reaching for Alexander's former vessel. Like a feather toy in front of a cat, Michael danced the demon's body around, avoiding each hit. They kept up this tantalizing dance until the rebels begged for victory. It was then that they tossed the empty corpse far into the distance. The shadows gave chase, rushing after their new toy. Once they caught it, Michael looked away. They might already know the outcome, but it made it no less upsetting. Instead, they turned their attention to Little Blood.

The moment they had exited their cover, the bloodling had grabbed on to them and had not let go. He remained in his place, hugging the shade, but did nothing else. A side effect of his shock that he was touching the other being. He had expected resistance, but Michael offered none of that.

"Little Kor?" Little Blood chirped as he looked up in hope.

"Little Blood," Michael replied evenly.

Just being acknowledged made the bloodling vibrate in excitement. "You remember me? You remember me now that the demon's gone?"

"I do." Again, the reply gave nothing away, but the world around them shifted. The clashing atmosphere of black and red shattered and reformed into that of a battlefield. Unlike the one earlier, this one stood quiet, empty of life. Only crumbling ruins and abandoned weapons filled the domain. Michael shifted back into their younger form with the scenery change, shedding the robes and refinement they favored.

"I see you," they continued, taking a step back. Little Blood flinched at the movement, holding tight until Michael reassured him by offering their hand.

"Calm." Michael's command was ironic, but the bloodling followed while keeping hold of their hand. Satisfied with the adjustment, the shade took them on a stroll of the old field. "Now that I've had time, I see. I see much about you. You are a novice creature—one left at a disadvantage. Poorly formed. Though it's not surprising. Bloodlust seemed to always start things but never finished them. There is so much left unfinished in you."

Little Blood did not listen as the pulse of Michael's energy distracted him. He recognized the shade was absorbing his power, but that didn't bother him. In fact, he willingly gave more, and they slowly merged.

"Yes, yes! After we take this plane, we can move onto the next, and the next, and the next. Doing just as our masters do. Eventually, we'll have enough power to breach Overworld, and then... then we can finish what our masters started," The bloodling happily declared. Lost in his own delusion, Michael ignored him as they took the chance to get a closer look at the core of the other being.

"There's promise here…." they hummed. "Perhaps with training…"

Realizing that Michael had zoned out of his long-winded declaration, Little Blood drew close again in a suffocating hug. "What are you talking about, Little Kor?"

Michael turned and regarded the hopeful being before giving a shake of their head. With a cold arm, they pulled the bloodling closer. "Many things. Nothing to worry yourself with." Though at that, their grip tightened around the waist of the man. "In some ways, I envy you. You were made with emotions. You have the natural capacity to feel, to want. It is a gift. But it has also made you pitiful. Lost. Weak. You have the capacity to feel but lack the ability to comprehend these feelings."

"Huh?"

"When I crawled out of Kor, I received no such gifts. War does not need emotions. War needs efficiency. It needs a sure hand and unwavering obedience. There is no need for free thought, for desire. It makes me curious…" The scene shifted around them.

From an empty field, it switched to the heat of battle. It was a battle with familiar faces and unending enemies. But this battle was soon superseded by another fight then another until these phantom battles merged into an indistinguishable tableau of conflict. 

How much war had they seen throughout their existence? From the caravan of Kor to the wars they started as a young developer, they had seen so much death. So much destruction. They had witnessed the desperation of those killed and the pain of those left behind. The pitiful cries of the dying that merged with their plane as all fall beneath the crush of combat. Yet, if Michael did not want to, they would think nothing of it. If they did not make an effort, they would feel nothing about it. Even if the people they swore to protect were threatened with death, if the shade did not choose empathy, this oath meant nothing. They would be just another corpse on the field. Just another life lost.

But Michael had long made their choice. They reigned themself in as they gave a placid chuckle. "What does it feel like to be born of emotions?"

Again, the bloodling looked at them, confused. Even though the two shared similarities in structure, Little Blood found it challenging to decipher the shade. Unsure of how to answer, he remained quiet.

Which prompted Michael to tsk before shaking their head. "No, no, we'll explore that later."

Soon, they received the signal from Alexander. It was subtle but recognizable. When they focused on it, Michael noticed the changes to their contract had already taken effect.

"After we destroy this fragment," Little Blood suggested.

"After we leave it," Michael tightened their grip. "This crusade of yours died long ago. There's no reason to drag any more innocents into a selfish vendetta."

Little Blood went to speak when a coldness stole his words. It pierced his chest and spread through his body. With trembling eyes, he looked down to see a dark hilt protruding from him. He took a step back as he reached to dislodge it.

But as soon as he touched it, a black hand overlaid his. The bloodling gazed up into that unwavering pit of darkness. A question hung on his lips. "Why?" It was a pitiful noise, full of sorrow and rejection.

"Because it's time for us to go, Little Blood," Michael murmured as they pushed the blade deeper. It cut through the back of the creature before the shade forced their energy into it.

The surge was overwhelming as the bloodling struggled to remain afloat in the flood of blackness. He stumbled away, but it was too late as Michael reached out and pulled him tight.

With a free hand, Michael called for his rebelling shadows. So assured in their victory, the foolish creatures raced at them even as Little Blood tried to stop them. They crashed into the two of them like ocean waves, plunging them into all-consuming darkness.

Still, the bloodling fought as he dragged himself out of the crashing tides and, with a desperate hand, reached for the fragment to empower himself. But when he thought he had nearly escaped, that black hand grabbed him again. In a choir of voices, Michael laughed. "I'm simply doing what you want. You wanted to see the Overworld, and if we're lucky, that's where we'll end up!"

Held in place, Little Blood could only watch as an eye covered arm emerged from the darkness. He recognized it, but before he said anything, they suppressed him. Bound, he could only watch in distress as Michael ripped a tear into the Chaos.

As soon as it opened, the shade threw them all into the abyss.

 

A/N

Sometimes having the demonic equivalent of a Mr. Potato Head for a husband is convenient