<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic">7 Months Ago...</span><br/>Asmodeus &amp; Udo's last reunion<br/><br/><dl class="codebox"><dt>Brief Collab with Silence | <a href="javascript: void(0);" onclick="var spoiler = this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('dd')[0]; if ( spoiler.style.display == 'none' ) { spoiler.style.display = 'block'; this.innerHTML = '-'; } else { spoiler.style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '+'; };">+</a></dt><dd style="display: none;">A few days days had passed after the arrest and successful execution of members of the resistance group. While others were still on the lose, the case was passed over to the criminal and security police departments. The child who survived the St.Peter Church's raid, was given full care. Unfortunately, Erlind had to wipe out his memory and replace it with a cleaner, less violent version of the story. He had successfully arranged to create a new identity for the child and give him a German name. Erlind was not very sure what to do with the child, but he recruited the help of a nanny and offered the child an opportunity to go to school. Nobody knew that he hid a Jewish infant in his home, not even Kai or Udo. Kai, though, had once again vanished. As for the Oberstleutnant himself, he needed to get away from everything ... everyone. The disappearance of Isolde sure left him concerned but he knew he would find her. Time was always on his side. The demon had overused his powers. He needed to be alone, and to regenerate his abilities. If he had lost control over himself, his materialization would have weakened. He was not ready yet to meet his Master in the Other-world, especially after rebelling against him. Fortunately, he was granted that five days leave by the Colonel and his return was scheduled for the longest continuous military campaign war during World War II was yet to come: The battle of the Atlantic. <br/><br/>The whole world can go to hell, not that he truly cared, but a demon got to stage his role well if only for another dance in this never-ending masquerade. <br/><br/>For an escape route, he opted for Starnberg, located at thirty kilometers south-west of Munich. The location provided frequent trains to and from Munich. By car, it would take one about forty-five minutes to get back to Munich which made the escapade far away for somebody who needed a small trip away from the city while wishing to remain close enough in case of emergency. Erlind owned a cabin isolated from the town itself and where it is said that King Ludwig II of Bavaria mysteriously drowned in its lake in 1886. After his first ever mortal rebirth in Finland eighty years ago, Erlind arrived to Germany about sixty years ago in his human form. The experience was pleasant but little did he know of the consequences having to duel in a mortal body, not until the Mittenwald Hotel incident of course which ended up in him killing off his mortal vessel in order to regain the lost powers. He had purchased the lake home and turned it into his personal hideout which made it a great habitat for a demon who <span style="text-decoration: underline"><span style="font-style: italic">was once</span></span> trapped in a vessel of flesh and blood. Teleportation was then impossible, unless he manifested a thought-form of himself. A perfect example would be the day Isolde had summoned him to the warehouse prior to the Hitler conference. While the the experience was not physical, a connection was still made. From the exterior, the cabin looked like any other. It was a one story waterfront home, with a bedroom, a living-room; a kitchen and one bathroom. It offered the tranquility and privacy he needed at that time. Usually, the surroundings were dead silent. One would be given the impression that they were alone in the world. The cabin had a rustic wine cellar, but it was converted into a chamber of antiques such as ancient manuscripts and scrolls, old books, paintings; furniture and handicraft along with other highly valuable collectible items. The entrance to the cellar was protected by blood magic, the demon's energy source.<br/><br/>Two days had passed since he arrived to his modest retreat, but he spent his days mostly in the cellar, staring at a wall adorned with books of different sizes and colors. Udo Drechsler discreetly informed him that he needed to show him something of a very high importance. He also explained what happened in his hotel room and that somebody out there could be stalking the great possession, even murdering to lay hands on it. He said something about a book. Udo was not only magnificent in his fury, but he was also a knowledgeable man. So if he said that the item he held in his hands was precious enough, then he must have been saying the truth. Asmodeus was not the type of demons to make friends but if he shook hands with a mortal, it meant that personal interest was present. In the case of Gestapo officer Drechsler, Asmodeus found himself to appreciate this man the more and more they worked together. Isolde on the other hand, was an entirely special case. Confidentiality is a virtue of the loyal, as loyalty is the virtue of faithfulness, and loyalty he found in this man even though he hadn't been honest with Udo from the beginning. Well, until Kai exchanged the truth with the man in Mittenwald last Fall, and very recently of course when Asmodeus unmasked his true identity during the church massacre. Knowledge is power. Information is power. It was irrefutable to believe once that he could not trust the man; he would answer any of his questions without a deal, without asking for anything in return. An unshakable truth.<br/><br/>As he stepped out of his car, Udo took a moment to let the scenery sink in a little. He had to admit that the lakeside view was stunning. The cold of winter was not something anyone enjoyed. The sights, on the other hand, were a different story. He was strangely comforted, seeing everything covered in snow. Tress, city streets, houses. A nice feeling, after these long and stressful weeks, he could see why Erlind would want to hide out in a place like this for awhile. He was glad he was finally getting the chance to get this troublesome book off his hands. It was all he thought of when he arrived in Munich initially and it was all he thought of now as he walked up to the cabin’s doorstep. In the past few days, his attempts to find a way to translate it have failed. He had even gone to the extent of cornering a poor Jewish man in an alley one day when he was out for a stroll, when he had some time to kill, and demanded he translate it, before the man refused and ultimately had his life taken from him. This was maddening. Udo had really hoped he would have found out more about the book before he spoke with Erlind about it. He hated tackling things when he didn’t have a lot of information on. Maybe it was for the best. What if what this book contained was not something that would satisfy his curiosity? What if it was cursed and, if he or anyone else read it, it would kill any who tried to decipher it? Considering the near-death experience he had faced, he was sure there was some kind of curse on it. A chill crawled up his spine at the thought. At least it would be over soon, and his mind would be at ease, or so he hoped. Udo knocked twice on the door and stepped back. His posture was straight, gaze focused, appearing very business-like. Even if he was just coming out here for a quick chat, he couldn’t help it. He was feeling somewhat tense, which was a little unlike him; he wondered if the knock had reflected that, or if it just came off as something habitual. When the door opened, he tried to relax a little by smiling. “Guten tag, Herr Köhler! I hope I haven’t kept you waiting on me for very long,” he said.<br/><br/>Hearing a vehicle pull over, Erlind straightened up and brushed the dust off his knees. The cabin was quiet dusty, but one would only feel or notice if they stick their noses where they did not belong. The overall image of the interior was quiet pleasant. He could only hope now that the living-room at least was warm enough for a human. The first knock on the door made him look away from the fireplace to set eyes on the wooden entrance. The second knock pulled him towards the door. He placed a right hand on the doorknob and pushed the door outwards slowly. The man on the side was no other but Gestapo Drechsler, and the sight was pleasant enough to jerk his lips into a sincere smile.<br/><br/>"Guten tag, Udo" Erlind took a quick glance outside and slowly shifted his gaze to the man as he stepped back into the habitat. "Do not worry, you haven't kept me waiting. Time is on my side. And please, call me by my name. No point in formalities, Udo. Have a seat if you wish." The blonde one chuckled and added, pulling the door behind them but keeping it unlocked. A large comfortable couch and two recliners were arranged in a way where they faced the fireplace. An oval-shaped wooden table in the center enhanced the appearance of the homey living-room. He offered the man a drink, noticing the great concern on the man's face.<br/><br/>Hearing that Erlind hadn’t been kept waiting was somewhat of a relief.<br/><br/>“It isn’t as cold in here as it is out there,” Udo said, shoulders rolling into a shrug, in response to Erlind’s inquiry. “Don’t worry about me. I’m merely eager to get this book business over and done with.” That probably went without saying. He knew that it was written all over his face, not that he could help it. He was uncharacteristically anxious about this whole thing or perhaps, though he’d never openly admit it, it was just that he was feeling like he had failed.<br/><br/>"May I offer you a drink? I have a small, but a good enough variety of spirits in the cellar."<br/><br/>“Actually, if you have any around, I will settle for some ginger tea instead.” He said as he walked right over to the table and placed the book upon it. Immediately, he could feel a weight off his shoulders, but he was not going to let his guard down. He glanced out the window briefly. It was almost as if he was expecting someone to be peering in from outside. How ridiculous, he thought. Did this book really have that much of a hold on him? Udo leaned back heavily against the sofa. He stared hard at the book with his chin resting in the palm of his hand. “I wasn’t able to find a willing candidate to translate this book,” he sounded rather annoyed by the fact. The failure he was feeling toward that fact really did run stronger than he was willing to admit. “They would take one look at the book and freeze up,” he smirked a little. “Cowards, I say. Although, I did manage to discover that this book is the second in a collection and apparently deals with demons.”</dd></dl></div><br/><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;">---------------------------------<br/><br/>Present time, Mittenwald<br/>At the Group Meeting</div><br/><br/>And there was war in heaven: Michael and his angels fought against the dragon; and the dragon fought and his angels, and prevailed not; neither was their place found any more in heaven. And the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the Devil, which deceiveth the whole world: he was cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with him.<br/><br/>As this one direct enemy of God and Christians moved with purpose into the place of meeting for the assembled reek of holiness - one similar to the atrocious fetor of rotten canned sardines, the familiar faces along with the oh-too familiar painful energy of the Archangel greeted the deceptive nature which proceeded out of the expression on Kohler's face. To the group, he appeared as the Nazi that he was, but to the mortals outside of the resistance circle, his visual appearance was that of a twelve year old child.<br/><br/>Bereft of that one thing that helps the filthy mortals seek and find all the barriers within themselves that they have once built against it, he studied Adina's face as he stepped past her and then the other faces, face by face. The only presence he was not expecting to see was that of the half-angel, seated facing the door. No attempts at ethical or social seduction, could ever eradicate from his heart this one deep burning hatred for her kind. He was once like her and she was what he once used to be, before he was raised to the ranks of the Seraphim then cruelly cast down to Hell for envy, for being different of blood impure. The Nephilim. Circus ponies. God's source of inspiration for his ridiculed mock-creation. To some, a chance was given to redeem the sins of their fathers, others were cast into hell even after they did and<span style="font-style: italic">He</span>committed them to chains of gloomy darkness to be kept until the judgment. But walking in the midst of the fire, four spirits shall rise, and they will not be hurt; and the appearance of the fourth shall be like a son of the gods. With the thought of<span style="font-style: italic">The One</span>inked in his mind, he regarded the fiery-redhead who was lounged against the wall next to the half angel, Yvonne.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"Isolde, you look like you've gone to Hell and back. I hope life treated you well lately."</span>He greeted her in his own way, delivering her a disparaging smile that never reached his eyes. She looked miserable, he thought. His instincts on the other hand came back powerfully. She was up to something, something no good.<br/><br/>Kohler who had come to the meeting in a somber uniform, moved to seat himself next to none else but the Archangel himself who had power over him, his ancient enemy who thwarted him and the angel who once deprived him of the only thing he truly ever wanted. Asmodeus' pride did not forgive and the human sacrifices were not enough to quench his thirst for the sinful fall of God's favored children. But while vengeance was his glorious weapon of mass destruction, this very same demon could see beautiful things in humble places where other people see<span style="font-style: italic">nothing</span>. The self-effacing and gracious demeanor of Raphael made Asmodeus if only for a while, forget the bloody history which linked the two together until the fall of the antagonist on the Day of Judgement.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"Your brothers were here. I know. I could feel them around. How can the sparks of Michahel's adoration of me even go unnoticed, let alone his superiority complex?"</span>The demon mocked in a deceptively gentle voice, averting his gaze to Yvonne, Isolde and Adina. When he looked back to Raphael, his stare was empty. Sarcasm could only go for so long before it turns into an attitude problem of an award winner.<span style="font-style: italic">"But as much as I hate to say it, Raphael, you've proven to be different."</span>he paused and smiled with pure honesty for once.<span style="font-style: italic">"This is not a declaration of love, I promise."</span>Honesty was not his best tool but it lived inside him, forever coiled within him like a lazy serpent. Asmodeus leaned over the table with his arms, eyes narrowing.<span style="font-style: italic">"Gestapo Officer Udo Drechsler was murdered.''</span>he studied the faces of those who may not have known before continuing.<span style="font-style: italic">"He perished in a tragic accident the day before, but it was not an accident. He was being followed for something he possessed."</span>Tilting his head, Asmodeus eyed the group with coldness. He knew he was somewhat responsible for he had let his trusted mortal return home with the book. The demon never before felt saddened for the loss of a mortal. It was a sorrow which the world knew not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad, for he too was once a man.<br/><br/>Despite attempting a casual, comfortable posture, the demon silently worried. The Seal which the Fuhrer had kept for years no longer adorned his finger. Asmodeus' diabolical signet ring in the possession of the mortal German scum had locked him tight like a genie in a bottle for years, giving the owner endless powers to command and summon him when they wished. Now it was gone. A fake ring had replaced it and lurking in this crazy man's mind, Asmodeus found nothing that could help him figure out who was now in the possession of his lost Seal. He should have known by now. So why hasn't he? The physical and<span style="font-style: italic">spiritual</span>disappearance of Obergruppenführer Barizan soon after arriving to Mittenwald added up to the mystery.