This is my first fanficition so please bear with me! Any constructive criticism would be adored!

If he remembered correctly it was a Friday when the cloud of black started to loom over Heaven. The place where the angels resided was being threatened, they fled, and fast. Women, children, and some of the young men decided to leave to get to safer sanctuary; it was only the warriors and guardians that stayed behind, vowing to protect their home no matter what the cost, and even if that cost meant death. They would rather die then surrender their home.

The gates usually kept everything out, but this smoke seeped through the gaps and turned the clouds grey, polluting their surroundings. The angels tried to keep it back, but trying to catch smoke with your bare hands was impossible. They stabbed, shot, and kicked at the smoke, but it continued to leak into the buildings and clouds until their world was nothing but grey.

It was only then that it materialized into a physical form.

The cloud loomed over the angels, those pure, innocent creatures that simply stared in wonder and fear as they tried to calculate what it was. Eyes widened as hundreds, even thousands of demons, those bloodthirsty Sons of the Dark, fell from the cloud. The angels scattered, grabbing their weapons and tried to defend themselves. How had they got past the barrier? Surely someone couldn't have let them in?

Arthur remembered exactly what he had done.

Grabbing his bow and quiver he managed to shoot a couple of them, right in the centre of their forehead every time. He had managed to take out at least twenty before he realised Feliciano, who was supposed to be guarding him from behind and doing the same as he was, had gone. He spun, widened emerald eyes scanning for the young brunette. They were a team, a pair that had never separated when in battle, and now with him gone, Arthur felt oddly vulnerable.

"Feliciano!" Yelled Arthur, still trying to fend off the mad beasts.

"A-Arthur!" A small Italian voice called back.

His head flicked to where the voice whimpered and Arthurs eyes locked with those of a large demon. His hair black, horns large and curled down, and it smirked as it looked at him, holding the small Italian close. As if mocking him.

Arthur drew his bow.

"Feliciano! Get away from him!" He yelled as steadying his gaze, getting ready to shoot-Yet was startled to find a white wing blocking his line of view.

"Arthur, no!" The Italian had gasped, protecting the beast. "He's... From when I was alive... Ah! Art-" He had started, before his vision went dark. Arthur knew he hadn't been killed or passed out and from the warmth of it someone was covering his eyes. Why? Who? From the stench, definitely not an angel.

"This one's mine." A voice purred and upon instinct he grabbed his blade, launching it behind him before waking up where he was now.