Succubus/Incubus vs ZVO/Hawkhurst

"See, this is what people fundamentally misunderstand about the Institute. Our philosophy is Amorality, not Immorality. We seek only to liberate people from moral constraints and pangs of conscience, so they may be free to pursue their own Will, WHATEVER it might be. To save or condemn, to harm or to heal. As the Founder once -"

"Sir, this is a Wetherspoons."

Incubus rolled his eyes and took the bottle and glasses from the counter, making his way through the nearly deserted bar. At one table sat Succubus and the Penitent, the anonymous man dressed in white, serving them as penance for crimes against the Institute.

Incubus poured drinks for himself and Succubus, passing her a glass. She smiled and kissed him, her free hand playing with his crotch.

"What's the plan?" she asked.

"We travel to the Academy, meet with Eris. Make the offer. If they accept, we use them to track down dissidents in Pierreia. If they refuse, we will show them the cost of defying us."

"And the Forsaken?"

"We should destroy them where they stand."

Succubus bit her lip in excitement, her cheeks flushing pink. "Only a few days to go. Then we meet with Van Owen, and Hawkhurst. Perhaps even that hideous child as well. I live for the day she tries to intervene. To give us the opportunity to make sure Dorian never becomes a grandfather."

Incubus smiled, slipping an arm around Succubus. He lifted her glass and poured wine into her mouth, the liquid flowing down over her breasts. He leaned in close, whispered into her ear.

"One day. One day soon. All our enemies shall kneel before us. The Forsaken shall grovel at our feet. Every one of them shall seek peace, yet peace will be denied; shall cry out for death, and death will flee from them. We will burn down all they hold dear and fuck in the ashes, purging them without mercy, punishing without remorse."

Succubus let out a loud moan of pleasure as blood trickled down her mouth, dripping from where she had bit her lip. Incubus kissed her, the blood flowing into his mouth, their fluids mingled as one.

They finished their wine and exited the bar, leaving Institute propaganda in lieu of a tip. They made their way into the car park and entered a limousine, Incubus and Succubus entering the back, the Penitent driving. As the vehicle set off, Incubus brought out a tablet, bringing up the footage of Emily's interrogation. He stared at the video a moment before pausing it, casting the tablet to one side.

"This week promises intrigue. Once again, we stand against the so-called Forsaken."

Succubus leaned back, resting her head on his chest. "We do. But this time there is more at stake. The possibility to strike harder, strike higher. The tag team championships."

Incubus nodded. "And more. The people of Carnage know to respect us. They must still be taught to fear."

Succubus glanced up at him. "What did you have in mind?"

Incubus smiled. "Something big. Something that will show the people of Carnage - from C$J to the ring crew to the filth who call themselves the Forsaken - what we are capable of. A big bang to inaugurate the year of Ouroboros."

Succubus giggled, closing her eyes, letting the motion of the vehicle carry her away. Incubus let his mind drift. Mental images swam in front of him, shifting from one to another. Faces, dreams, fantasies, nightmares.

Memories.

The Academy.

The memory gripped him, vivid as day. 2006 AD, 38AA.

They were young then, Incubus and Succubus - so young they weren't even known by those names. Their true names would only come later, through the Institute. For now they were called something else. Names long lost, even the memory burned to ashes.

They were teenagers then - seventeen? eighteen? - full of youthful idealism and rebellion. Ready to take on the world, every new injustice a fresh cause of rage. Against the war, against climate change, the G8, the IMF, the WTO.

Then one day they found the Academy. Located in Yorkshire in Northern England, the mysterious area known as the Lost Riding. An old stately home tucked away in the forest, a home for dissidents and malcontents.

The couple who ran it - the Apostate and the Whore, the ones who called themselves Elijah and Omega - had welcomed them in. Filled their minds with lies - ideas of altruism and morality, of justice and socialism. And endless scare stories about this terrifying organisation called the Spirit Science Research Institute.

Then one day, the people at the Academy had called for a protest against the Institute, a protest for the rights of the so-called oppressed. The two of them - the future Incubus and Succubus - had travelled down to the Manor, ready with their banners and posters, eager to make their voices heard.

They had reached the Manor, jumped out of the minibus, jumped the security fence. The plan was to scale the building and unfurl the banners, call in the media to get some shots before security could get rid of them.

As they had jumped the fence, they had spotted Institute security, ready to shut their protest down before it even started. The last thing they had seen was Elijah, Omega and the rest running for safety, pleading with them to do likewise. They had refused, even as they were swarmed by security.

Their old selves died that day. Incubus and Succubus were born.

The limousine went over a bump in the road, snapping Incubus out of his reverie. The vehicle came to a slow halt. He glanced out of the window and saw nothing but fields. He clicked the intercom, speaking to the Penitent.

"You sure this is the right place?"

A single tap came back, signifying "Yes". Incubus shrugged, grabbed the tablet and exited the limo, Succubus following suit.



As they left the limo, they heard the unmistakable sound of guns being cocked. Incubus looked around; they were at the end of a country lane in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by the countryside of the Lost Riding.

Standing before them was an individual clad in all black, their hair a brilliant white. Their features were at turns masculine and feminine, indistinguishable and fluid. A pair of drones hovered beside them, each hosting a gun barrel, their aim shifting from Incubus to Succubus to the Penitent.

Incubus glanced from the individual in black to Succubus and back again. He cleared his throat.

"Eris," said Incubus. "I trust you are -"

"Shut the fuck up," said Eris. The drones seemed to concur, the LEDs on their fronts suddenly lighting up bright red. "Give me one good reason not to end the two of you right here. Three if your little captive gets in the way," they added, nodding at the Penitent.

Incubus smirked. "Feel free. I'm sure Emily will appreciate your help."

Eris stopped still, frozen on the spot. Slowly, they managed to croak out a few words. "Emily….you're lying -"

Incubus reached into his pocket, withdrew the tablet and handed it to Eris. Eris took it and stared at it in shock, a single tear dripping down their cheek.

Succubus laughed. "Now that we understand each other. We have an offer. A...business agreement of sorts."

Eris glared at them in absolute fury. "How fucking dare you -"

"The attack on the Colosseum," continued Succubus.

Eris snorted in half contempt, half rage. "That was nothing to do with the Academy, not the Children or any of our allies."

"We know," said Incubus. "But we also believe you know who was responsible, or at least, that you may know where to start. A group within Pierreia. Traditionalists who wish to turn back the clock to the days before both the Institute and its dissidents. Those who would take lives without regret."

Eris paused, their eyes suddenly focused, intense. "What are you suggesting?"

"A trade," said Succubus. "Equivalent exchange, one might say. You give us the information we need to track down those responsible for the bombing - a bombing that harmed your side as much as ours. In exchange, Emily."

Eris closed their eyes a moment in silent contemplation. "You're offering a deal with the devil."

"The devil's got nothing on us, sweetie," replied Succubus. "Now. What'll it be?"

Eris paused. "What will happen to -"

"You already know what we will do to those responsible for the bombing," interrupt Incubus. "Stop trying to cleanse your conscience. What is your choice?"

"...yes," Eris sighed. "My answer is yes."

Incubus and Succubus glanced at each other in triumph. "Good," said Incubus. "We will be in touch."

Eris turned to leave, the drones staying focused on Incubus and Succubus. As the duo went to re-enter the limo, Eris turned back and called after them.

"Goodbye, Tamsin. Josh."

Incubus and Succubus froze, standing stock still. When Succubus spoke, her voice was little more than a snarl.

"Tamsin and Josh are dead."