Chapter 1
Powerful winds buffet her body as an all-encompassing sound, one she can only compare to the crackling of a staticky radio station, drowns out the world around her.
Ava falls through the air, hurtling toward the rocky desert soil at an unsurvivable height and speed. There's little she can do at this point but close her eyes and pray—ha, Ava's not sure there's any kind of God worth praying to since all the divine beings she's met so far have been complete assholes—it's going to happen like the visions in her head depicted it would. Fuck…that doesn't sound at all reassuring considering she's currently plummeting toward the ground at the urging of said images in her head. Ones that she's starting to actually believe are coming from the so-called holy relic sitting between her shoulder blades. At least, they better be coming from the Halo, otherwise being crazy isn't her biggest problem at the moment.
Her biggest problem is that she's about to be really fucking dead—and possibly for good this time.
But there's not much time to dwell on it now because the rocks are becoming startlingly clearer and nothing is happening. Granted, she's fallen from several stories up before, though she barely walked away and never from a height like this.
Just as Ava squeezes her eyes shut and thinks I'm sorry, Bea. I hope you get to live your life. Even if I can't be in it, the Halo switches on at full tilt.
An intense ripple of energy pulses through her body, expanding from her chest outward, like nothing she's ever experienced. A blinding light envelops her on all sides as a thunderous boom shatters the air around her. It's the sound Ava assumes she's going to make upon colliding with the unforgiving ground.
Only if that were the case she should've been lying broken at the bottom of a crater by now.
Reluctantly, Ava opens one eye, and her heart soars. Grass! Luscious green grass is everywhere as she flies parallel to the earth, only about ten or fifteen feet above it. It lasts about three whole seconds. Then the Halo sputters out and gravity tries to continue what Ava started in Reya's realm. It's a hard fall, but she's had worse. In fact, the ground takes more damage than she does when they finally meet and Ava slides along the grass for a few yards, her body tearing it out in clumps, until she finally comes to a stop, flat on her back.
The sun beats down on her face, hot and humid, a stark contrast to the dry and stale air in the other world. Ava smiles.
She fucking did it.
Ava made it back home. Well, not home home. Her home has warm, expressive brown eyes, is extraordinarily perceptive with an exceptional sense of duty, not to mention a genuine heart of gold, and is a certified badass. But she's back in her world, a step in the right direction, and if she wants to see Beatrice—be with Beatrice—she has to finish what she came here for. Stop the 'Holy War to end all holy wars' before it can even begin because apparently, she's the only one who can do it. If only she could remember how exactly she's supposed to accomplish that.
Something she can thank Reya for, surely.
Lying there, Ava goes through a mental list of her necessary next steps:
First, is to figure out where the hell she is on Earth and how long she's been gone. Time moves differently between the worlds, at a rate Ava has no chance of deciphering—it's something one certainly requires at least one doctorate degree to be able to do—so there's no telling how much of it has passed here.
Next, she needs to locate the objects from the flashes of memories in her mind courtesy of the Halo, which has been completely unresponsive since forcing a rift open to get back.
Last in her straight-to-the-point three-step plan is to somehow use them to save the world.
Nothing too difficult. Just your everyday preventing-the-world-from-ending kinda stuff. It's becoming such a normal occurrence for Ava, who every time she thinks she's done it, finds out there's yet another battle to be won. However this time it's a battle she's decided she has to fight all on her own.
The OCS, her family, and Beatrice can't be a part of it. Ava won't let them make any more sacrifices. No matter how much she wants them to. From what she can recall about her time in the other world, the Halo Bearer, more specifically Ava with the Halo, is the only one capable of doing it. And there are those in Reya's realm that will do anything to prevent that. Hazy visions of the ones she cares about lying broken and lifeless with wide, unseeing eyes flood her brain and she has to physically shake her head to dispel them.
No, she won't put Beatrice or any of the others in harm's way this time. Not when Ava's the only one—because of course she is—who can stop it anyway. Thus bringing her to the most difficult part of her plan, the golden rule, if you would.
Leaving her loved ones out of it, which, in her mind, is much more difficult than saving the goddamned world.
"Language," Ava admonishes herself out of habit. Fills the glaring silence in the absence of the person who usually says it and acknowledging that vacancy causes her chest to ache in a way that has nothing to do with her impromptu crash-landing.
"Wow. I knew more time had passed for you on the other side, but not enough time for you to start speaking to yourself like a lunatic."
Still drained from tearing open a literal portal between dimensions, Ava's reaction time is sluggish and delayed. Wearily, she sits up when she registers the posh accent that can only belong to one person.
"Lilith," she eyes the woman cautiously for any signs of malicious intentions. Considering the last time they saw each other Lilith mercilessly tore out the heart of one of Ava's friends and then attempted to kill her, Ava thinks that her wariness is warranted. "Didn't think you'd be the welcome wagon. Also, I literally just got here, so how did you find me?"
Unlike their last several encounters, Lilith's no longer clad in all leather and looking like every BDSM enthusiast's fantasy. Now she's dressed in casual clothes, jeans, and a black top. Although what really throws Ava off isn't Lilith's fashion choices, but rather the distinct lack of ebony scales embedded into her smooth tanned skin. That and Lilith's remark about time has her wondering if it's been years here since Ava went through the Arc.
No, Ava can't focus on the time she's lost with Beatrice right now. Not if she wants to save the world in order for there to be more than enough time to make up for what she's lost.
Lilith's unreadable expression doesn't change and she stays where she is, arms crossed a few yards away from Ava.
"I can sense the Halo," Lilith says this like it's something trivial Ava should know by now. Like someone might state that the sky is blue. And maybe she should know because Lilith's been able to successfully locate her more than once in the past; Arq-Tech, the Vatican, Adriel's Cathedral. "Whatever you did to cross back over must've required an immense surge of power because, for a brief moment, I could see your location in my mind like you dropped a pin on an iPhone. It wasn't difficult in the slightest to find you." Lilith adds, "Which means it won't be difficult for the Tarasks to either. We need to go somewhere else."
Ava scrambles backward in the dirt as Lilith swiftly moves closer. "Why should I trust you? You killed Michael and then you tried to help Adriel kill me!"
A flicker of emotion crosses Lilith's face and her gaze shifts away. Ava wants to say she appears guilty, but it's gone as Lilith schools her expression back into its previous mask. Like it was never there in the first place.
"I'll admit that I may have been a bit misguided in my actions and siding with Adriel," Lilith acknowledges slowly, like the act of doing so is painful, which for her, it probably is. "And I may have unnecessarily directed some of my frustrations with my own situation at you. But I cannot change what has already happened. What I can do is help you do whatever it is you're planning on doing next. Assuming you do have a plan, that is."
The underlying conviction laced in Lilith's words pierces Ava's already shaky resolve as easily as a needle pops a balloon. Because following the rules of her plan means she really doesn't have anyone else she can ask for help. But Lilith is an outlier Ava never factored into her plan considering their history of being at odds with one another.
Lilith, as some kind of human-Tarask hybrid or whatever the hell she is, is incredibly difficult to kill (if she even can be killed). Ergo, she's an exception to her self-imposed golden rule, meaning Ava won’t have to worry about being responsible for her death.
“Fine,” Ava relents as she gets to her feet. “I’m willing to momentarily look past…well, everything because, honestly, I could use your help.”
“I understand,” Lilith nods.
“But if you so much as think about switching sides, I swear I'll take the Halo and—oh, fuck."
Ava's threat dies on her lips when the air surrounding the two of them begins to ripple with a distressingly familiar reddish energy, distorting the space as several Tarasks begin materializing, pushing their way through from the other world.
"We need to leave," Lilith doesn't hesitate, just reaches out to take hold of Ava's bicep in a fluid motion without waiting for Ava to respond. "Now." The scenery flickers around them briefly and then changes completely, leaving them standing in the living area of a large but plain looking flat.
As Lilith beelines to the bar cabinet against the far wall, Ava observes their new environment.
It’s an image nearly right out of an interior design and home decor magazine—if Ava with her rumpled-up and dirty clothes wasn’t standing smack dab in the middle of it, that is. Everything's spotless, from the pristine white sofa in the living room to the glistening black and white marbled counters in the kitchen. If not for the amber liquor Lilith's pouring into a glass, the achromatic color scheme does a seriously good job of sucking the vibrancy out of the room. That and the single-family portrait placed on the mantle has Ava one-hundred percent certain the place belongs to Lilith's family.
Ava's only able to distract herself for another few moments until the questions bouncing around in her brain become overwhelming.
"How long have I been gone?"
Pausing with an expensive-looking and definitely crystal glass raised to her lips, Lilith tears the bandage right off. "Three days."
Three days? That's…a lot for Ava to unpack. Ironic given how little time that is in comparison to what she thinks has been years for her. Obviously, she already knew that time passes differently between the realms, but knowing and experiencing that firsthand is incomparable. Not to mention the significance of it being only three days, which she can't begin to wrap her mind around the possible religious connotations of it all.
"Oh," Ava nods, pushing past the revelation, doubting it'll be the last in this conversation. "Well, what happened after I went through the portal?"
What she really means to ask is did everyone make it? She remembers lying in Beatrice's arms as she accepted the inevitability of death and an eternity of nothingness, pleading with Beatrice to take the Halo so she'd at least be able to defend herself against whatever came next, Beatrice refusing and then, along with Lilith, carrying her over to the Arc, telling Beatrice "I love you," and then being pulled gently by some invisible force through the rift.
After that, anything could've happened. Camila, Yasmine, and the rest of the nuns had been fighting upstairs. And despite Adriel's death, there's no telling whether the wraith demons went with him. Not to mention, Lilith's situational allegiance and helping Ava survive didn't necessarily equate to permanent trustworthiness.
"I'm not exactly provided with an OCS newsletter these days,” Lilith remarks dryly, swirling the amber liquid in her glass before sighing. “Aside from you and your…blonde friend, everyone seems to have made it out relatively unscathed. From what I’ve gathered, they’ve moved from Jillian’s home and have relocated headquarters to the convent where Superion and Camila had gone to ground outside of the city. There hasn’t been much activity because I assume they are still sorting out the events of that day, though I expect they’ll start bringing in recruits in the next week or so.”
Ava feels immediate relief at the knowledge that the only casualty was the one she’s already aware of.
Still, she can’t help herself from asking, “What about—did you—have you seen—”
“I haven’t seen Beatrice since you went through the Arc,” Lilith takes pity on her, rolling her eyes in what Ava guesses is annoyance at her laughably transparent train of thought. "As for the rest of the world, two popular theories are circling in the media. First, is that Adriel was just another charismatic cult leader and after he barbecued Durretti on live stream, the Unidad Especial de Intervención finally, you know, intervened. "
"Pft! The UEI? They've got nothing on the OCS."
Lilith, unamused with Ava's interjection, continues on, "The other one—I'm sure you'll prefer this—is that Adriel was in fact a demon sent from hell and that God delivered a mysterious angel to smite him from the earth to save us all."
Remembering the Falling Angel graffiti she and Vincent looked at back at Viaducto de Segovia, Ava can't help but snort in amusement. "Isn't it crazy how the less logical one is closer to the truth? I mean, I'm no angel and the existence of a higher power that's not a complete asshat is getting less and less likely, but it's still somehow more believable than cultists?"
Silence.
"Right," Ava's gotten off track again. "That's not the point. Sorry. It's just I'm pretty sure I haven't had the chance to ramble in a long time, so all my thoughts are just kinda spewing out right now," she meets Lilith's still flat look, "and I'm still doing it."
“You’re not sure?” Lilith’s expression switches to something along the lines of concern—or as close as Lilith can get to it.
Ava attempts to give a SparkNotes version of her decidedly murky memories from Reya's realm because she hasn't really wrapped her mind around them herself and she's positive that any more unnecessary rambling may truly test the limits of Lilith's patience. She doesn't want to piss the other woman off so early on in their temporary truce, so she only tells her the important bits. Or the ones that she thinks are the important parts. There's no surprise from Lilith when Ava begins by stating that Reya and her world aren't what they claim to be, that Adriel had some truth woven between his lies. Her neutral gaze remains as Ava mentions the Holy War and Ava has a fleeting thought that maybe Lilith should be the one explaining things to her. It's when she introduces the concept of the Halo being semi-to-completely-sentient that Lilith displays any semblance of shock or disbelief.
"So, what? You're saying the Halo is alive?"
The incredulity in Lilith's voice is so thick that Ava can just about see it in the air. And of course, the Halo—recharged enough at this point—decides that now is as good a time as any to show its indignation by sending a hot flare of annoyance up Ava's spine. This is definitely going to take some getting used to. "No other Warrior Nun has ever reported the Halo expressing emotion let alone it speaking to them. Why would it begin to do so now?"
"Consider it a first then because it's got thoughts, feelings, and opinions," Ava tells her. "Something unlocked over there in the realm of celestial douchebags and now this thing gets to piggyback on every thought I have whenever it wants," the Halo burns a little hotter between her shoulders, effectively putting Ava back on track. "And it doesn't really speak. So far it's been images and emotions, but it's getting easy enough to understand that I can practically hear it at this point. That's how I got back without going through the Arc. It… showed me how."
"And it showed you how to stop the war before it begins, not how to win?" Lilith clarifies.
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Ava's reply is straight to the point. The severity of the situation settles on her shoulders and the heavy silence on the Halo's end affirms its agreement. "Lilith, once Reya finds a way to use her powers in our world, it'll be too late," she says gravely.
The amber liquid disappears past Lilith's lips and the glass clinks on the counter as she throws the drink back and sets it down pointedly.
"Where do we start?"
Beatrice sits at the foot of the bed, eyes locked on a lone streak of brownish-red marring the otherwise blemish-free aged limestone walls of the small bedroom. Her bag sits—still packed and unmoved since the group had arrived a little more than 48 hours ago—on a plain wooden chair in one corner of the room as she stares, not really seeing the blood stain, but rather trying to evoke the feeling of rage she'd felt two days ago when she made it. Instead, Beatrice feels nothing but unbearable grief in every single cell of her body. At least during her brief episode of anger, where her fist slammed into the unforgiving rock multiple times, it felt like she was channeling her emotions into something. Not wallowing in them, no matter how physically and mentally unhealthy the coping method was.
Beatrice used to tuck every emotion away, carefully safeguarding them until Ava crashed headfirst into the layers of protection Beatrice hid them behind, knocking them down with terrifying ease, like a Halo Pulse to a boulder. And…Beatrice had been starting to become okay with the fact, but that when she thought Ava would still be here, not—no she's not dead, but gone.
Great, she's thinking about Ava again and another tidal wave of sorrow crashes over her at the realization. She hasn't gone a full five minutes without her thoughts somehow circling back to that smile, still so full of tenderness despite the shards of divinium embedded in her body, and an I love you Beatrice hadn't returned in time.
A tear drips onto the bruised knuckles of her right hand, the salty liquid seeping into the cut where the wall split the skin and resulting in a dull sting she barely registers. It's just enough to warrant a glance downward at where her clenched fists are digging into her upper thighs.
Two soft knocks yank her focus to the door. Briefly, Beatrice wonders if she remains silent, whether the person on the other side will assume she's asleep and leave her alone for a bit longer. However, she knows out of the select few people it might be, the chances of that happening are highly unlikely.
She's proven right when the knob turns and Camila's head of dark curls appears in the space followed by gentle brown eyes and that same melancholy smile she's been wearing every single time she's looked at Beatrice since she found her down underneath Adriel's Cathedral, covered in blood that wasn't her own, Ava missing along with a big piece of her heart.
"Hey, Bea." Camila takes the absence of an outright dismissal as an invitation to enter, shuffling further in with a tray of food in her hands. Beatrice's stomach turns at the thought of eating right now. "I brought you some breakfast."
In her peripheral vision, she watches as Camila sets down the tray on the small bedside table and carefully plucks two mugs from it before moving back around to stand in front of her.
"I know food is probably the last thing on your mind but at least drink this," Camila holds out one of the steaming mugs.
Automatically, Beatrice accepts the hot beverage but doesn't move to bring it to her lips. Instead of holding it by the handle as a logical-thinking individual would, she wraps her hands around the sides and allows the searing temperature of the ceramic mug to ground her. An earthy and herbaceous aroma drifts up to her nose that's easy for Beatrice to distinguish as her friend's sweet nettle tea, yet even that makes it no more appealing. She stares at the greenish-gold liquid swirling inside the cup to avoid the possibility of seeing pity on Camila's face while the younger woman settles on the edge of the bed next to her and sips her tea.
As they sit there, Beatrice feels her tumultuous emotions pushing and pulling at her like a rip current once more, trying to drag her further out into the sea of grief than she already is. Can't help but replay the moments after Ava floated through the Arc in her mind. Because that's all she has now.
Memories.
Beatrice sits, unmoving on the top step in front of the Arc, staring through vision blurred with tears at the blood—Ava's blood—coating her fingers. She's not sure how long she's been sitting in the same position. Since the moment Ava disappeared through to the other world, time seems to have ceased having any meaning at all. It could be seconds, minutes, or hours until Camila stumbles upon the aftermath in the tunnels beneath the building.
"Oh, Bea…" her voice is feather light and laced with sorrow. Beatrice knows that Yasmine must've filled her in on Ava's plan to sacrifice herself for the rest of them for there's no surprise in Camila's tone at finding Beatrice alone when, with any other outcome, Beatrice and Ava would have still been together when she found them, celebrating their victory.
Not that it resembles anything close to a victory for her.
When Beatrice gathers the strength to lift her gaze and meet Camila's teary brown one, she feels her own spill over once more.
"She's gone," Beatrice chokes out. "Ava's gone."
Camila doesn't speak, knows there isn't anything words can do at this moment, and just hurries over to where Beatrice sits and engulfs her in a tight embrace. If this wasn't the fallout of her entire world-shattering, Beatrice might've smiled at the fact that such a small person could make a hug seem so powerful.
But it is and so Beatrice falls apart, the last of the neat string of thoughts, emotions, and actions she's had rolled up and stored properly for years just completely unraveling. She collapses into Camila and sobs as her friend seems to try and squeeze all the love she can into that hug.
"I waited too long to tell her I love her," Beatrice tells Camila in the present. "She told me she loved me and I couldn't say it until she was already gone. You were right about what you said in Jillian's lab. Warrior Nuns don't last."
She can't bring herself to utter Ava's name. Thinking it is difficult enough, but forming the two syllables on her lips and pushing them out into existence feels like it'll destroy her. It's ironic, Beatrice thinks, that not a week ago she was trying to convince Camila and herself that what she felt was just an obligation to perform her duty as a Sister Warrior.
Still, Camila's breath hitches slightly at the out-of-the-blue proclamation, clearly from her reaction not anticipating Beatrice would speak let alone reveal such an intimate detail paired with a vulnerable introspection. Considering Beatrice has barely uttered a word these past few days, it's an understandable response.
"Beatrice," Camila forgoing the usual nickname betrays the weight she's placing in her next words. "You can't know that she didn't hear it. We don't know how the connection to that world works. Plus—and forgive me for being so blunt, but anyone with basic observational skills can see how you two feel about each other." Beatrice finally meets her eyes and Camila appears…apologetic? "And forget what I said about Ava not being yours. I said that because I thought I was protecting you. Seeing what happened after Shannon, after Mary. I didn't think our little family could survive another loss like that. With just you and me and Mother Superion left," Camila sniffles once and then smiles fondly. "I had overlooked one simple truth. Ava's not like any Warrior Nun we've ever seen before."
"You believe she's still alive?" Beatrice latches onto the use of present tense in reference to Ava.
"I do. I think she's doing everything in her power to get back here. And you know Ava, she's very stubborn."
Beatrice chokes out a laugh, "That's a very polite way of putting it."
She finally takes a sip of the nettle tea that's now closer to lukewarm than scalding, closing her eyes at the familiarity and comfort it brings. Reminds her of simpler times when Camila was still a new recruit, sharing her mother's recipe for the drink with them for the first time, all bright-eyed and eager to fit in. Beatrice remembers laughing with Shannon and Mary and bonding with Lilith over the high expectations of their parents.
Yet all of that was before Ava, and Beatrice wouldn't want to go back to a time when she didn't know the Halo Bearer with a zest for life so strong it awoke something deep inside of her she thought didn’t exist. Even if it spared her the pain she feels right now. Because pre-Ava Beatrice was living a lie, hiding herself from the world and filled with enough self-hatred to reduce even the most confident person in the world to a shell of themselves.
If she could, she'd turn back time to redo Switzerland. This time to fully let herself experience every single second the two women spent together. To not hesitate to reach out and touch Ava whenever the desire arose. To let their hugs last longer. To not force Ava out of bed so early in the morning to train and instead just lay there and exist in the same space.
"Ava said she wanted me to live," Beatrice admits, finally saying her name aloud. "but I don't know how to go on without her."
"Hopefully you won't have to for too long," Camila touches her arm reassuringly.
Not wanting to think about it any longer and generate too much hope, Beatrice chooses another point Camila made to focus on. "We are family Camila, even though some of us aren't here. It doesn't change the fact," she puts an arm around the younger woman's shoulders.
"Do you think Lilith misses us?" Camila wonders after a moment's hesitation.
Lilith's current mindset is…a mystery. First, joining Adriel's side and seemingly turning her back on them. Then helping her try to save Ava. Telling Beatrice she hoped they were on the same side in the upcoming holy war. Something Beatrice hasn't given a second thought about until now. How could they fight a holy war without their fearless halo-bearing leader?
She opens her mouth to voice those concerns when a blue blur flies by the doorway, then doubles back and slouches against the frame. Beatrice and Camila are both on their feet in an instant, instincts kicking in and anticipating some kind of danger to be following.
"Camila!" Yasmine pants, making wild, indecipherable gestures with her hands in quick succession. "The computer got another alert! It has—it's the exact same reading as before!"
Understandably, Beatrice is lost but sees Camila bite her lip and flick her eyes over at her.
"Camila," she says slowly, "what is Yasmine talking about?"
"I wanted to be sure before I got your hopes up," Camila doesn't hold her gaze but throws a now sheepish Yasmine a stern glance. "But earlier there was considerable seismic activity outside the city."
"I wasn't aware we were seismologists."
Her brain is slowly catching up to the conversation, the last few days of only thinking about one thing has resulted in some stiff gears. There could really only be one reason why Camila would be keeping track of seismic readings. Still, Beatrice can't bring herself to outright ask.
Thankfully Camila ignores her seismologist comment. "When we were at Dr. Salvius' home, she showed me these seismic readings she recorded that directly correlated with the Arc activating. Every single time the portal opened the same energy signal would follow." Her eyes, sparkling with something Beatrice can't let herself believe is hope, meet her own. "I've been monitoring them since…anyway, there was one earlier today, but it didn't even last a second. Not enough time for someone to pass through and now that there's been another one—"
"This one lasted four seconds! Four!" Yasmine cuts in with wide eyes.
"That's…likely enough time," Camila estimates.
Beatrice looks between the two of them, feels her heartbeat pick up. "Are you saying that…" she trails off, the rest of the question sitting on the tip of her tongue just waiting for her to voice it.
"I'm not saying it's definitely Ava," Camila tells her, "but this means a window or a door or something opened between our worlds. If it is Ava or something else, we can find out."
There's a million thoughts and feelings happening suddenly inside Beatrice's body. So many that she's not sure how she actually feels about this revelation. Can't land on hopeful or doubtful or anything at all. Just knows that she has to find out for certain if anything—if Ava—came back. Can't sit around now that there's a possible course of action laid out in front of her.
"Where outside of the city did this occur?"
"Uh," Camila fumbles. "Maybe we should wait for Mother Superion to get—"
"We're going," Beatrice is firm, eyes daring either of them to argue. "Today."
Against her better judgment, Beatrice allows herself one single thought to send out into the universe, for the only person she's ever felt truly complete around.
I'm coming, Ava.