"Now, now," the newcomer said, her voice light and playful despite the carnage surrounding them. "Let's not do anything hasty, shall we?"
Ezra blinked, wondering if the lack of oxygen had addled her wits. "Valeria? What in the nine hells are you doing here?"
Malphas's eyes narrowed, his feathers bristling. "You. This doesn't concern you, girl. Step aside, lest you share this worm's fate."
Valeria's smile was all teeth, sharp and gleaming. "Oh, but it does concern me. You see, I have a vested interest in keeping things... balanced. And you, my dear Duke, are tipping the scales a bit too far for my liking."
With a gesture that seemed almost bored, Valeria summoned her Rebis. Unlike the twisted nightmares that had been rampaging through the city, this being was beautiful in its otherworldliness. It seemed to be made of starlight and shadow, its form constantly shifting and flowing like quicksilver.
Ezra had seen it before, back at the warehouse. But what good would it do against an elder god? She got her answer immediately, but it was one she wasn't expecting.
Malphas took a step back, genuine fear flashing across his avian features. "You wouldn't dare. The consequences-"
"Are mine to deal with," Valeria finished, her smile never wavering. She turned to Ezra, her expression softening slightly. "Go. Find your Morningstar. This party's about to get a bit too rowdy for a nice girl like you."
Ezra hesitated, torn between her duty to fight and the knowledge that she was hopelessly outmatched. "But-"
"Go!" Valeria's voice cracked like a whip, her eyes flashing with power that made Ezra's hair stand on end. "Trust me, you don't want to be here for what comes next."
Making a split-second decision, Ezra nodded and turned to run. As she sprinted away from the warehouse district, the air behind her crackled with power. The thought that Valeria might be more than she appeared – perhaps even an elder god herself – sent a shiver down Ezra's spine.
Crashes and explosions echoed through the night, punctuated by inhuman screams and laughter that sounded just a bit too gleeful to be entirely sane. Ezra didn't look back, focusing instead on putting one foot in front of the other.
Her mind raced as she made her way towards the center of the city, where the massive interdimensional rift loomed like a wound in reality. What was Valeria's game? Whose side was she really on? And Malphas – he'd reacted to Valeria's present with a familiarity that hinged on them knowing each other. How much did the demons really know about Valeria?
As she ran, Ezra's hand unconsciously went to her pocket, where the cat plushie still nestled safely. It was a reminder of simpler times – of crane games and almost-kisses, of a normal life that seemed as distant and unattainable as the stars themselves.
But as she caught sight of a familiar figure in the distance – Lucifer, his hands blazing with that strangely white hellfire as he battled against the forces pouring from the rift – Ezra felt a surge of determination cut through the pain and exhaustion.
Gripping Monsoon tightly, ignoring the protests of her battered body, Ezra charged towards the fray. The night was far from over, and there were still monsters to kill.
The sky above Paradise City writhed like a dying beast, the massive interdimensional rift a festering wound in the fabric of reality.
Ezra approached, her legs burning with exhaustion, blood matting her hair. The sight before her was as terrifying as it was awe-inspiring. Lucifer, once the commander of Hell's legions, now stood as a line of defense against the very forces he'd once led. It was fucking poetry, if poetry smelled of burnt flesh and tasted of ash.
"Took you long enough!" Lucifer called out, a manic grin splitting his face. A demon, all tentacles and too many eyes, exploded into a shower of gore as he spoke. "Was starting to think you'd found a better party to crash."
Ezra rolled her eyes, but couldn't quite keep the smirk from her lips. "Oh yes, because I'd clearly rather be anywhere else than this fucking hellscape."
She reached his side, Monsoon already slicing through the air. The blade, a streak of blue in the chaos, bisected a group of imps. Their squeals of agony were cut mercifully short as their top halves slid from the bottom.
Back-to-back with Lucifer, fending off waves of nightmares made flesh alongside the devil himself, protecting a world that would sooner spit on them than thank them.
Ezra's fingers danced over the Monsoon blade's hilt, adjusting pressure and containment field strength on pure instinct. The sword hummed to life, a shimmering ribbon of death extending from the nondescript handle.
A hulking monstrosity, more teeth than flesh, lunged at her. Ezra pirouetted, the water blade slicing through chitinous armor and liquefying organs in a single, fluid motion. Black blood sprayed, sizzling where it hit the superheated water.
"Incoming!" Lucifer's warning came a heartbeat before a wave of smaller demons swarmed them.
Ezra grinned, a feral thing with too many teeth. "I've got this." She thumbed a control, and the Monsoon blade shifted. The coherent stream dispersed into a high-pressure mist, filling the air around them.
Demons shrieked as the corrosive spray ate through scales and melted eyes. Those that made it through emerged blinded and flailing, easy prey for Lucifer's hellfire.
A rumble from above drew Ezra's attention. A winged horror, all leathery membrane and jagged bone, dove towards them. She reconfigured the blade, stretching it to its maximum length. The water whip lashed out, bisecting the creature mid-dive. Its halves hit the ground with meaty thuds, twitching.
Pain exploded across Ezra's back as claws raked flesh. She stumbled, nearly losing her grip on the Monsoon blade. Lucifer moved to cover her, but more demons pressed in, overwhelming.
"Fuck," Ezra spat blood, her vision swimming. The wound burned.
In a fit of rage, Ezra slammed the Monsoon blade into the ground, driving its tip into the cracked concrete. She threw every ounce of power into the containment field around the sword, supercharging it.
The results were spectacular and horrifying.
The blade exploded outward, a tsunami in miniature. The wave of pressurized water scythed through the demonic horde, pulverizing flesh and shattering bone. Those not killed outright were swept away, helpless against the deluge.
"Shit," Lucifer whispered, something like awe in his voice. "Remind me never to piss you off."
"So," she panted, driving Monsoon through the skull of something that looked like a melted bulldog, "please tell me there's a plan. There is a plan, right?"
Lucifer's laugh was equal parts joy and madness. "Plan? Who needs a fucking plan? I figured we'd just keep killing these bastards until they get bored and fuck off home. That works, right?"
Before Ezra could respond with the scathing retort dancing on her tongue, a new voice cut through the din of battle.
"I'm afraid it's not quite that simple, my young friends."
***