It was Malachi who found them first.
A dark green troop-carrying vehicle fled through a city just on the cusp of rebuilding.
They were really stepping on the gas. Almost as if they were running from sothing.
Malachi's avian body vanishes from the sky in a streak of lightning.
He reappears on the ground, in his himation, with his hand outstretched casually.
The vehicle slams into him at full speed due to the driver's slow reflexes.
The entire car flips over his head.
Before any property can be damaged, Malachi manipulates the shadows on the ground.
An umbral hand catches the truck as if it were a lobbed softball, holding it in place.
Malachi's face tightens. He already knows Morgan is not inside. He cannot feel him.
With a thought, the shadows cut the truck right down the middle, and it splits open.
Dozens of disoriented n in foreign uniforms were sprawled across each other.
But none of them seed to belong to the Arican group belonging to Morgan.
"Where are they?!" Malachi snaps.
The sound of his voice is utterly demonic and haunting. It rouses the n from their lethargy and forces them on the defensive.
They get to their feet, but most are still so dizzy that killing them would not be much different from striking down a bunch of elderly people with bad hips.
And yet, the easiness of it all doesn't make Mal feel a whole lot less murderous.
They are mostly second-generation evolved. Only the leader seems to be the exception.
He is a shifter who transforms into a large rhino-like demi-human.
His horn is like a great lance that could gore through scores of n as easily as mowing the lawn.
But Malachi has already transcended the boundaries of mortal n. He is, more than anything, an animal wearing the charming face of a demon.
He catches the man by the horn as he is being charged at.
For a mont, their eyes et and the ten-foot rhinoceros cannot help but feel incomprehensibly dwarfed.
Mal's eyes are cold. Lifeless.
He tightens his grip on the horn, and cracks begin to spread along the bone.
"Where. Is. He..?"
The rhinoceros is seized by shivers, but stands firm despite his terror.
"…I'll never tell you anythin-"
"I believe you."
Malachi hurls the rhino into the sky like a rocket.
He flies so fast and so violently that a layer of his skin is peeled off by his ascent into the atmosphere.
Malachi turns his gaze to the rest of the n, who are as frightened as they are stupid.
His wings begin to grow larger. They encircle the n and trap them in darkness; giving them nowhere to run.
"Just a warning… I'm not going to ask any of you as nicely as I did him."
-
Malachi and Aisha returned to the ship with tight, grim expressions.
Everyone in the room knew his search hadn't gone well before they actually said anything, and their worry was compounded.
But there was a small bit of hope. Malachi had hostsges. And sothing else..
Malachi went straight to Tiamat and fished sothing out of his pocket.
"They said they sent him into this… any chance that you can..?"
Tiamat held her hand out over the mirror.
For a mont, her palm started to glow and Malachi felt a surge of anticipation.
But Tiamat soon retracts her hand away, and her expression becos grim.
"I am… sorry, Malachi. I cannot interfere."
"What do you an..?"
"It appears today's events are very closely linked to the future of this world. If I were to intervene in any way, I would be going against divine law, and-"
"Yeah, I get it…" Malachi held his head. "Super prison."
"Quite."
Tiamat suddenly turns to Aubrey.
"But your sister is a native of the world. I can teach her a spell that might help, but I'll need prior permission, and she'll need ti to learn it."
Malachi grimaced. He could feel himself becoming irritable at the situation.
They may not have had ti. But this was their only option.
"…Thanks." He sighed.
Tiamat placed a hand on his shoulder. "I will always do what I can. What else is family for?"
She fades from the room like a mirage, leaving her considerate words behind. They do aid in helping Malachi feel better, but… it is not by much.
The hours seem to go by at a snail's pace.
Malachi goes back and forth between two places constantly; the room of Crystal and Emilia, and the living room.
Morgan's wives are worried. Justifiably so.
They only pretend they are not as panicked so that everyone will not spend all of their ti fussing over them. But the spiritual beings on board can sll their fear. Malachi most of all.
He unconsciously checks on them every ninety minutes like clockwork. He seems to think it is the only thing that he can do for them.
In a way, he is right.
The rest of the ti, he sits in the living room waiting for Tiamat to return. The longer it takes her, the more worried he feels.
Nadine has already made an attempt to compel the n they captured, but it is a dead end. Their mories appeared to have been erased. They were only driving fast because they felt it was what they should do.
Soone had taken no chances of an information leak.
"Everyone's wondering if you're coming to bed."
Malachi looks up from the book in his lap.
Joanne is there, wearing a shirt that she has 'liberated' from his drawer.
She looks better than she did during the day. Healthier, and far less skinny.
He looks at the ti on his wristwatch. It's already midnight.
"I…"
"I get it." Joanne shrugs. "I know you want to wait."
She cos to sit beside him and drapes a blanket over them both. Though he does try to stop her at first. He can feel her weariness as soon as their skin touches.
However, the look in her eye is a hard one. One that promises trouble if he is ungrateful enough to ask her to leave.
So, he silently pulls her into his lap instead. Sothing that turns her face slightly pink and makes her body feel warm.
Joanne can sense his reliance on her.
She knows that, at present, her being there has temporarily stopped him from spiraling.
It is a strangely cathartic feeling. To be a bastion of support for the one who has saved her from herself ti and ti again.
She relishes in the sensation and takes pride in herself.
Joanne kisses him gently, but passionately. It is a comforting gesture. Simply sothing to remind him that she is there for him. That she would always be there for him.
When she pulls away, she rests her head on the side of his neck, and he does the sa to her.
"…I was thinking about nas again." She speaks after a long silence.
"Nas..?"
"For the baby. Our wives and Anna are busy betting on whether or not it'll be a boy or a girl… I'd kind of just be happy if they were healthy to be honest."
Malachi wraps his arms around Joanne more tightly. He knows what it ans for her to talk so casually about babies again. She is healing. She is hopeful.
It is the perfect conversation to distract him from Morgan.
He reaches up her shirt and places a hand over her bare stomach. She no longer tenses up, and instead places her hand over his.
At the end of such a terrible day, Malachi almost felt guilty for receiving such warmth.
"…I was thinking about how weird it'll be. Having another kid, I an. Explaining our marriage would be tough enough, but… I also think about what the relationship dynamic would be like with Annalise. I don't want her to be uncomfortable."
"…Have you talked to her about it?"
"I don't exactly know how to bring it up without hating myself." She admits. "I wonder if it'll hurt her more, seeing do all of the things with another child that I should have done with her."
Joanne contemplates the possibility that losing their first child was punishnt for the way she had abandoned Anna. But it is not sothing she allows herself to voice aloud.
Malachi knows not what to say.
At tis like this, he wonders what it would be like if his relationships were more normal.
But they are thoughts he can't harbor for long.
He loves both Joanne and Anna so imnsely that the re thought of being without them causes imnse heartache. The idea of seeing them in the arms of another fills his body with venom.
It is the purest emotion he has ever felt. They are his living goddesses. To take one away would make his existence incomparably darker.
Which is why he wanted more than anything to solve problems between them as soon as they arose.
"What if… I didn't get pregnant after all?" Joanne finally says.
"Jo.."
"It's not the end of the world. And it's my choice. I've already done so much selfish shit to that girl, I just… I can't justify doing anything that would hurt her more."
Malachi developed complicated feelings. He knew how badly Joanne wanted to carry. And yet, he could also feel just how strong her commitnt was to putting her oldest child first.
At tis like this, Mal thought it was truly a pity how their past had played out. Jo was a phenonal woman, but she was an even greater mother.
She cups her husband's face and smiles at the bitter look he is giving her.
"…It's not a big deal. It's a small price to pay for our family to stay together."
She holds up her wedding ring.
"Besides… we're already married. So who carries doesn't really make much of a difference… They will still be my child. And I will love them all the sa."
Malachi had so many things he wanted to say about Joanne in that mont. But only one thing slips past his lips.
"You're amazing…"
Joanne is aptly flustered. Though she pushes her hair back and brushes off his praise. "I'm a slow learner after a lifeti of fuck ups… I don't deserve any more than that."
Malachi didn't agree. He couldn't.
His wife was perfect to him. He couldn't na a flaw of hers that she hadn't worked to overco.
And despite suffering so much in her life, she still had one of the biggest hearts he'd ever known.
Malachi used his thumb to wipe away the tear running down her cheek.
Joanne closes her eyes to enjoy the warmth of his hand. Her husband's hand.
She feels slightly guilty about all of the emotions that such a small gesture makes her feel.
As much as she wanted to say that she would do anything for her daughter, the one thing she could never do was walk away from their partners. Not after experiencing the unceasing love they gave her at every mont of every day.
For that, she will atone for the rest of her life while supporting her daughter, and all of her children, in every way she could.
The two spend a long ti staring at each other. Their grief is still present, but it is slowly being replaced by an arising hope. And a realization that they can survive anything.
Suddenly, Joanne is no longer tired. Malachi is not dominated by his worry.
So she does not resist when he removes the blanket and lifts her shirt. Just as he does not protest when she opens his…
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