The sky cracked open with thunder as the entity straightened, Gabriel’s stolen light burning in its chest. Its thousands of eyes rolled forward, blinking in eerie unison. Its mouths opened and closed like testing language, and then—slowly—it spoke.
This ti it wasn’t broken echoes. It wasn’t a twisted scream. It was speech.
"You... angels." The voice was jagged, crawling between Gabriel’s tone and sothing older, deeper. "Children. Pretenders. You bleed like n. You hide behind shards you do not understand."
The rain thickened, drops falling like nails.
Michael gritted his teeth and raised his sword. His wings flared with a storm’s rage. "We’ve killed things older than you."
The entity laughed. Not sound, not silence. A ripple that bent the skyline. Windows shattered across blocks. Streetlights bent sideways.
"Not ."
It moved.
Faster than before. Its arm stretched into a whip of shadow and bone, lashing across the sky. Raphael blocked with his shard, red light exploding on impact, but the blow sent him spinning through three skyscrapers before he caught himself. The buildings toppled in his wake, flas spilling into the night.
Uriel forced herself up from the crater below, blood running down her chin. She thrust her shard again, ice blooming across the monster’s legs. For a mont it froze, slowed—but then its skin split, dozens of mouths gnawing through the frost until it shattered like glass.
The creature’s eyes blinked all at once. It spoke again, sharper this ti.
"You are weak. Heaven is weak. Your Father abandoned you long ago."
Azrael’s gaze narrowed. He hurled his shard again, white light cutting into its shoulder. The wound burst mories—children crying, a man kneeling at a grave, the sound of prayers unanswered. The entity only fed on it, growing louder, taller.
Then it lunged at Azrael.
Its claw tore through the sky, slamming into him mid-flight. Azrael’s wings bent backward under the force as he was hurled into the cathedral spire. The stone shattered around him, and his shard dimd, falling from his grasp.
Michael roared and shot forward, lightning trailing from his blade. He hacked into the monster’s arm, severing it clean. For a mont the limb fell—then writhed, twisted, and crawled back into the torso, reattaching itself.
"You cannot kill what refuses to die," the entity hissed, Gabriel’s voice breaking under the weight of sothing far older.
Michael didn’t back down. He darted higher, sword crackling, wings slicing the storm open. He called lightning down, bolts hamring the entity’s head again and again, blinding flashes lighting the city like day. The monster staggered but didn’t fall.
Raphael returned, battered but furious. He thrust his shard into its thigh, twisting. The red shard pulsed, burning it from within. The creature bellowed, its skin peeling, dozens of eyes rolling back.
But then its chest split open again—black hands shot out and grabbed Raphael. He scread as they dragged him toward its core.
"Michael!" Uriel shouted.
Michael dove, sword blazing, and cut Raphael free just before he was pulled in. But the damage was done—the entity had learned. It copied the shard’s fury, its veins glowing crimson now, a mockery of Raphael’s weapon.
"Your strength... is mine."
It lashed out, a beam of red light tearing across the sky. Raphael was hit full force. His wings snapped backward, his body hurled into the horizon like a teor.
"Raphael!" Uriel scread, flying after him, but the entity’s second strike smashed her from the sky. She crashed into the streets again, her shard slipping from her bloody hand.
Only Michael remained in the air.
Azrael rose slowly from the rubble, wings broken, his shard barely flickering. He tried to lift it again, but the creature slamd him down with one massive claw, pinning him into the cathedral ruins.
Michael floated there, sword raised, lightning burning across his wings. The storm gathered at his back, winds tearing buildings apart, thunder exploding.
The entity lood, its thousand eyes all locking onto him. "You are strong... stronger than the others. But strength ans nothing to . I was here before strength had a na."
Michael’s grip tightened. "Then you’ll fall naless."
He charged.
Sword against core.
The clash lit the entire city. Lightning split the clouds, fire roared from the ground, and the sound was louder than war. Michael hacked, slashed, stabbed—his blade tearing chunks from the entity’s chest. Each strike forced the crystal core closer into view, shards of shadow breaking away.
The entity retaliated. Limbs sprouted from its back, whipping, stabbing, clawing. Michael’s wings blurred as he dodged, parried, countered. Every movent was storm and steel.
But it wasn’t enough.
The monster learned faster than he could cut. Its skin hardened against lightning. Its limbs bent in ways his blade couldn’t reach. One strike hit Michael full in the chest, shattering his armor, sending blood across the rain.
He coughed, wings faltering. Still—he didn’t stop.
He raised his sword again, screaming as lightning poured into the blade, shaping it into a spear of pure thunder. He hurled it into the core.
It struck.
The core cracked.
For a mont—the entity scread like a dying god.
But then its thousand eyes lit at once. It grew taller, broader, its chest sealing the crack. It absorbed the lightning, glowing brighter.
Michael staggered, his sword flickering. His strength fading.
The entity lood, all its eyes staring down at him. "You... are nothing."
It swung.
Michael raised his blade, blocking—but the force broke him. His wings snapped, his body hurled into the earth below. He slamd into the crater beside Uriel and Raphael, broken and bloodied.
Azrael was pinned still, his shard dim.
The entity stood above them, Gabriel’s twisted voice echoing. "This is the end of angels."
The sky shifted.
And then—everything stopped.
The clouds parted. The storm fell silent. Even the monster froze.
A voice carried through the world. Calm. Ancient. Final.
"Enough."
Light spread. Pure. Gentle. But heavier than mountains. The entity staggered, its thousands of eyes rolling wildly.
Michael, bleeding and broken, lifted his head. His lips trembled. "...Father."
From the light, two figures descended.
The first was radiant, cloaked in simplicity, every step rewriting the air. The second—dark cloak, crimson eyes glowing faint with amusent.
Lucifer.
He touched down first, smirking at Michael, who struggled to rise. "Still losing fights you can’t win, brother. So things never change."
Michael’s jaw clenched. His sword flickered weakly in his grip. "Shut your mouth."
Lucifer chuckled, brushing his cloak aside. "Or what? You’ll cry to Father again? Pathetic."
God’s presence pressed into every corner of the city. The humans below wept without knowing why. The monster itself bent backward, its limbs trembling.
He glanced once at Michael. Once at Lucifer. Then his gaze settled on the entity.
The thing snarled, voices twisting. "You cannot erase . I was here before—"
God raised his hand.
Snap.
The sound was soft.
The city blinked.
The entity vanished.
So did He.
Only silence remained.
The rain fell again, soft and endless, washing blood from broken stone.
Lucifer stood where he was, arms crossed, smirking still. Michael, broken in the crater, watched the sky where his Father had stood. His sword dimd, and for the first ti in ages—he said nothing.
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