Leaving the car and carrying the Angel to the closed pub was a blur full of meaningless noise and questions, none of which he cared to answer. He knew that his fate was sealed, there was no turning back from destiny now. He would face Balthazars gloating justice and then only time would tell what would happen to him. But he had one job to do, he would show those ignorant in heaven that the Demons were capable of mercy and compassion.
Before he knew it, he was at the door to Moebius' domicile. Inside he could hear steady hypnotic music. A voice carried to him through the wood. A yearning voice asking for one more medicated peaceful moment. He could use some of that himself right now.
Without knocking he opened the door cradling the blonde angel in his arms. As the dim light flickered before him, he caught a glimpse of her eyes fluttering. Long lashes danced feebly upon the snowy skin, there was relief and panic combined for Belial. She was alive, but he wished not to awake until he was long gone from Heaven, until he was safely back in the clutches of those that were to condemn him.
Moebius was not seated as Belial expected, she was stood by a large bookcase looking wistfully into a small orb lamp. She was dressed in a long flowing white gown with silver roses sown into the hem.
Satan, Lucifer, Beelzebub and Abaddon came silently behind him into the dimly lit room. There was a smell of grapefruit in the air spillling fervently from an incense burner, everyone in the room stopped for a moment looking into the eyes of Moebius breathing in the fresh enlivening air.
Moebius' eyes were full of something that could constitute sorrow or concern. There was a watery edge, a river of emotion hiding just behind the gravity ravaged lids. Her eyes flickered for a moment and then the tears came.
"I'm sorry. The wheel of fate has turned. This is a portent for more than just you Demons and Angels. I am in peril also, I have seen it. I will not see the end of the war, I have another duty to perform and then my doom will be met. I always thought it would be Belial who would kill me, but no. It is not a Demon. I will have my reward for the advice and the aid that I will offer you. My side has finally been chosen." Moebius, despite the tears, said this without so much of a waver in her voice. She spoke surely and certainly, Moebius was affected but strong.
"I need your help Moebius." Belial began simply. He made to continue but the obese woman put up her hand to stop him.
"I know what you need and you must go now. I would leave your rapiers here if I were you. Stepping into the kingdom of Heaven with the appearance of wishing a skirmish may not be a good idea at this juncture. Especially since Gabriel will be there." Belial nodded simply and looked at the angel in his arms.
"You will not feel any pain tonight. Nor will this night be the end of all things for you Belial. It is the beginning for all of you. Satan, Lucifer, Beelzebub, Abaddon, please sit down I must speak with you further but for now I must accompany Belial to the Portals." Moebius moved to the small hidden door behind which the Portals resided and ushered Belial through.
Belial stepped into the circular antechamber. As always the green lights danced languidly on the walls. At this moment the Angels eyes flickered open. A shadow of fear and wonder graced her face, and once more she slipped into unconsciousness.
Had she registered the portal room? Had she seen for the first time the neon doorways to all realms and worlds beyond this world? What did her eyes make of the violet dome and the swirling misty doors behind which they would enter into Heaven.
"You will not need to travel to Peters Gate. The Angels are expecting you on the road to babylon. I forewarned them that you would arriving to treat with them. Saves you carrying the poor girl too far. Have you the courage to go still?"
"I am unarmed Moebius, if they don't kill me, then Balthazar surely will, or at least put me in the position where I will be easy meat for Gabriel. I have no fear left." Belial never looked up from the face of his burden. Not even as he stepped through the swirling mist into the portal to heaven.