Prologue
The night was pitch dark. No stars or moon shone through the thick blanket of smoky gray clouds cloaking the sky. In a particular alleyway, the garish graffiti that decorated the walls was almost unseen, engulfed by the overwhelming blackness. A rusted pipe was leaking slightly, the steady drip-drip of the water accompanied by the rustling of rogue, dried leaves billowing down the cement walkway.
Other than the minuscule noises of alleyway, the night was dead silent. It was almost as if life had been put on hiatus for a moment, as if the clock had stopped. Not a single living soul shifted in their reveries. Some may have considered this quietude peaceful, because, truthfully, it was. But there was something ominous about it...a looming threat, dark and treacherous. Something was off, and most anyone could detect that a deplorable incident was about to occur.
Then, suddenly, the foreboding tranquility was broken. Life once more commenced, caused by one human being. She traipsed into the alleyway, watchful and observant, her eyes wide with awareness. Her slender form pressed itself against the wall, concealing herself from passersby. Her right hand slipped into the interior of her fitted black leather jacket, reaching for something. Just before she withdrew her hand from her coat, her eyes flitted suspiciously from left or right, making certain that she was, indeed, alone.
Apparently satisfied, her gaze returned to her hand as she removed it from her jacket. And she was grasping something...something long, slim, and glinting silver, the only light in the otherwise dark and lonely world. It was a knife. Not just any ordinary, run-of-the-mill pig-sticker, it was a blade. A very special blade. The girl ran her fingers lightly along the edge, a sinister smirk forming on her lips. Using her free hand, she pushed her long, thick brunette hair back behind her shoulders, and clutched the knife's hilt until her knuckles turned white. As terrifying as she was herself, there was a subtle hint of apprehension in her stance that could vaguely be noticed by someone vigilant.
The girl remained breathtakingly still, tense and alert, as if she were waiting for something...someone. Her eyes never strayed from the darkened street, as if they were focused on one specific point in the universe. Suddenly, a rustling of what could be described as wings, sounded, and the girl stiffened, her body trembling slightly. Unexpectedly, the irises of her brown eyes began to glow, their shade turning to a luminous silvery-gray color.
"You are not to be harmed, child," The silky, collected voice sounded, its tone reassuring, yet austere. "Unless you attempt to harm one of us." A tall figure stepped out of the shadows, his face calm and his expression serene. He could clearly see the blade clutched in the girl's hand, but he seemed unfazed, as if he had dealt with situations such as this before.
The girl appeared confused, yet nevertheless determined. She then finally spoke. "Why?" The inquiry was almost uttered as if it were a statement, her words rough and expressionless. "Why spare me? I'm an abomination to your kind, as you dickbags put it." Her body stiffened as she realized the consequences she could receive for her spiteful words.
"You have angel blood flowing within you, sister," The man responded, his words soft and revealing no anger. "Yet you are still a human being. You are unique, child, and you show great potential. But if you cross our boundaries one too many times, we shall be forced to eliminate you." His voice sounded almost as if he would deeply regret it if that ended up to be the case. "I do understand your distrust. Your kind is rare," He continued. "Nephilim are considered abominations in every angel's mind. Yet we only harm those who do great harm to us or humankind."
She paused as she listened to his words, clearly cautious now. Her grip on the blade was still tight, but she appeared as if she were rethinking her decision. But when the angel dared to call her "sister", it seemed as if something inside her snapped. She tensed up once more, barely allowing him to finish his sentence, squaring her shoulders and advancing towards him. "I am no sister of yours," She snarled. "And I never will be, no matter what you say." Before the angel had a chance to reply, she lunged forwards, her angel blade aimed high.
The angel made no move to sidestep or avoid the slash, but just as the girl was about to stab at him, he momentarily disappeared. The girl whirled around, finding the him standing behind her with a rather melancholy look on his face. "I warned you of what would happen if you crossed our boundaries," He said to her. "And I am sorry for what I am about to do." He then lifted his hand slowly, almost ceremoniously, and began to lay it down on her forehead.
"Not so fast," The Nephilim replied, unfazed by the hand hovering above her forehead. He paused, confused by her words. She threw down a match, and a ring of fire lit up around the angel. He stumbled back away from the flames, an expression of pure shock on his face. He looked up at the Nephilim, and she lifted her chin, a sinister smirk forming on her lips.
"Well, I guess the abomination wins."