It all happened within moments, barely enough time to take a mortal breath, when our entire life was ripped from us. Truly, it would be better expressed as a series of partial differential equations, but as my mind is no longer capable of it, I will tell it thus in English. Such a crude language...
The time of commune was upon us, a sacred event that happens every human century. While it is true that all angels are connected, the link is less substantial when far away. The commune gathered us all in a hall of enormous proportion, far beyond any human construct. Only there, with every angel gathered, could our information be completed.
As it had been for millennia, the host gathered first, knowledge flowing thick and rapid through the hall. The clangorous ringing that was Enochian silent as it passed through channels unknown to all, save us. And as our individual knowledge finally became one, it was time.
The seven Archangels descended upon us, their glory a terrible joy to behold. Seven of the host stepped forth, those who had been chosen to welcome our highest and expedite the transfer. The seven's heads were bowed, and we all stood silent as the Archangels reached out toward them.
Michael, oldest of us all, paused just before his hand could touch the head of his chosen. As if a silent signal had been sent, though none of the host could hear it, the seven rose up to attack. Even with our countless centuries of training, none but the Archangels reacted in any time to stop them.
Instantly, the seven were smote upon the ground, grace ripped from them like hearts from a chest. Several of the host surged forward, a sudden malice in their demeanor, others following them in their assault. All were knocked back, the blast reaching even some who had stayed their place. Those of us struck fell to our knees, a crack ringing out at the hard contact with marble. A shiver rent through us at the sudden cold, and we suddenly knew what it meant.
We were severed.
The Archangels dispersed, justice done. A strange new concept came then; the meaning of oneness, of singularity. There was no us anymore, only me and them, I and they. And Iwas left in a state of shock, something I had never before experienced. I stared at the host of heaven, not truly seeing, empty as I processed the enormity of what had been done.
A whimper escaped me; one of helplessness. Heightened, yet dulled, senses assailed me with the unbearable truth. A cry pierced the air, echoing the pain in my soul, and I realized it was mine. Lucifer's chains crept upon me, restricting, isolating. I remember thinking only vaguely through the grief, that I should not feel, that they(for it was truly now they) did not feel. They would not understand my pain. My cry grew, knowing my brethren were no longer connected to me, and had no more reason to care. Brothers and sisters of time unending, severed from me forever.
And thus was the end of my thoughts, reason crumbling under the weight of grief. No move I could make, no plea I could breathe could save us-save me-now. Then I felt it, the end coming, the ground growing incorporeal beneath us all. I knew only those with wings would remain. Such a group no longer included myself.
A scream tore my throat, high and desperate. The last call of some dying thing. Then there was darkness, and I knew heaven no more.