The Phoenix was afraid. The fearless legendary creature was afraid, and F.E.A.R. was coming for her. Her fiery red eyes were frantically looking for an escape, even though she knew it was pointless. Her brothers couldn't save her this time. They were too far, and she didn't want to call them, if it only meant to offer more victims to the Shadow Warrior on a silver platter. The Phoenix's vessel had long and toned legs, and the strength of youth. It gave her more time, but what for? To run? She couldn't go anywhere. Around her, there were only miles and miles of desert land. The Shadow Warrior was slowly, but surely gaining ground. Then, by bursts of shadowy mist, the evil creature disappeared, but only to reappear directly in front of The Phoenix, blocking her. Using its powers, the corrupted soul released a menacing wave of energy, and consequently The Phoenix was paralyzed immediately. With a whip of the Scepter the wicked had as a weapon, the star rosary, symbol of the Legion of the Black, of her family, was torn from her neck. The Rosary was her only protection in her weakened state. Her eyes widened in fear and a hushed gasp of agony reached her lips as the razor-sharp end of the Scepter went through her body. Her black hair then turned crimson, and The Phoenix crumbled to the ground. Suddenly, the Shadow Warrior vanished, leaving The Phoenix alone to die.
Blood started to cascade from the deadly wound and pooled around her agonizing body, the ruby-colored liquid seeping into the cracks on the ground. On an ultimate effort, she extended her arm and grabbed her rosary; wincing painfully under the unbearable pain. At least, The Prophet would be able to find her corpse and localize her if she sacrificed the last bit of energy she had by sending a wave of power through the rosary. Hopefully, her brother would get the message.
The dark veil of death slowly wrapped around her mind, and black spots manifested in her vision, contrasting painfully with the blinding sun. She compelled herself to not feel any pain, wanting to last as long as possible. Blood filled her throat and choked her, but it was painless. Taking her last breath, her back arched, head thrown back, and rays of blinding light came out of her eyes and her mouth.
Then falling back on the hard ground, she murmured, "Resurrect the sun" and choked on a laugh, dying on the spot.
Miles away, five black wolves were running in the forest. It was probably the last forest on the planet; the six gods had protected it against any eventual attack, and would protect it until their last breath. The wolves were waiting for their sister. Suddenly, two of the wolves shifted into their human forms, and fell to their knees.
The wave of desperation coming from the rosaries could only mean one thing: The Phoenix was dead.
The tallest man went wide eyed in horror. The Prophet had the powers of a Banshee, along with many other mystical powers. Consequently, The Prophet could sense death. The Mourner shared The Prophet's abilities, and he seemed unable to form words.
Alarmed, The Deviant, The Mystic and The Destroyer also shifted back into their human forms and looked back and forth between The Prophet's horrified crystal blue eyes and The Mourner's whisky-colored orbs. Then, realization dawned on them and washed the confusion of the three gods' faces.
"No... Please don't tell me that she's dead!" The Deviant stuttered
"She is," The Prophet cried out
"Can you localize her body?" inquired The Mystic
"Yes. She sacrificed her last ounce of power to send me her location," answered The Prophet.
Without any further due, The Prophet vanished with a burst of crystal blue light, the same shade as his eyes.
The Prophet materialized a few feet away from his sister, and he slowly approached the lifeless figure. Then, he kneeled next to her body and reached for her rosary. The symbol was coated in blood and slightly glowing red. The prophet gripped the object so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Then, he threw his head back, baring his throat, and an ear-shattering scream erupted from his throat. The deafening wail lasted for a good minute before he stopped, unable to go on.
Promptly, The Prophet wrapped his arms around his sister and rose, carrying her bridal style. Then, he vanished once again to go back to the base camp.
Once the gods were all back in the camp, they were trembling with fury. The Phoenix was supposed to sneak in F.E.A.R.'s camp, and gather the members of the Legion that were held captive.
They stayed up for hours until The Destroyer came up with the perfect idea.
"I got it!" He exclaimed, eyes suddenly wide open
"We can attack them during the day. It's the safest option; they probably expect us to attack over the night," explained The Destroyer
Then, they started to carefully list all their opponents and their weaknesses. They sought the help of Castiel, a fallen angel-which had only fallen for his love for a human man, Dean—that could access some holy weapons. They needed weapons. A lot of them. However, they needed to follow the ancient ritual and cremate The Phoenix's body before going any further in their plans.
The Mourner wrapped her in a pitch black linen sheet and gently laid her down on a wooden structure. The entire Legion of the Black and The Wild Ones were gathered around her. Then, The Mystic took a step forward and extended his arm, his hand unclenching and soon wide open, inclined towards the corpse. Suddenly, a tiny spark flashed in his palm, which immediately shifted into a colossal fireball. With a flick of the man's wrist, it left The Mystic's hand and crashed with the body, surrounding it with a column of fire.
When there was nothing left but ashes, The Deviant gathered the remains in a vase, which was painted red and black, and covered in complex intricate designs.
The dead silence that was surrounding them was abruptly broken a few moments later.
''Legion! Listen carefully! F.E.A.R. killed The Phoenix and captured some of us. In two days, we will have our revenge and we will take back our families! LET'S PREPARE TO FIGHT!'' The Prophet shouted.
From that moment, every single person worked day and night, creating weapons and training. The force of determination alimented everyone and, two days later, they were ready to attack. They had two archangel blades and six daggers. They also had special weapons; Axes that had charmed stones and were laced with mountain ash, wolfs bane, vervain and Kanima venom. They could basically kill anything. Also, they had fifteen demon's skull maces that were covered spikes, which were also made of demon bones. Lastly, they had a very powerful and unique gun: the Colt. It killed every living creature that it could be used on.
In the meantime, The Mourner, The Prophet and The Deviant worked on the flags. They were black and the Prophet painted the rosary on them, the official symbol of the Legion, with Castiel's help.
The Wild Ones created masks; they covered half of the face, had long, curved noses and were pitch black. Every warrior would wear one. Also, warpaint designs were provided to the gods.
And then, they were ready. The Destroyer was the most experienced with battle fields; he chose to help the legion to materialize instead of walking; that would have ruined the entire plan, which was all based on the effect of surprise.
To this end, there they were, standing in an organized formation, waiting.
Suddenly a raspy growl rose from thin air. That only meant one thing; hellhounds. One of the warriors in the back of the formation bolted and threw black warpaint everywhere. Why? Hellhounds were invisible. Coated in warpaint, they were easier to target and eliminate, believe it or not. Six menacing figures were now dripping in black paint.
Castiel was the only one who could kill hellhounds, being an angel. Consequently, he grabbed firmly the archangel blades, one in each hand, and launched at the demoniac creatures. Castiel took a lot of clawed strikes; but being gifted with instant healing, it didn't bother him very much. He managed to kill the last of the Hellhounds a few minutes later. He was panting and dripping in the creatures' blood, but still alive.
Then, one by one, F.E.A.R.'s soldiers appeared; a Leviathan, two Kanimas, a Djinn, ten Enenras, twelve demons and seven Kitsunes. It was an Enenra that had previously killed The Phoenix.
The Prophet, The Mystic, The Deviant, the Mourner and the Destroyer quickly looked at each other; that was the signal The Legion was waiting for. The Destroyer took a few steps back, before bolting forward and jumping high. While he was still in mid-air, he drew his fist back and slammed it with full force on the ground as he hit the ground.
A gigantic wave of energy knocked down a great amount of Shadow Warriors. The Deviant was just ready to put his shield up, for an eventual attack, when familiar warmth enveloped the Legion. They knew exactly where it came from; the vase that contained the ashes. The Prophet smiled at F.E.A.R.'s soldiers
'' You pissed off a very powerful being; say you last words!'' snickered The Prophet.
They all knew what they had to do. The Deviant's shield appeared, protecting them; the Prophet threw his head back and a high-pitched wail left his lips; The Mystic circled the vase with a ring of fire; The Mourner dropped a tear on the ground and lastly, The Destroyer slammed his first down.
''RISE FROM THE ASHES!'' yelled the five gods.
Immediately, they took a step back. They didn't have to wait long before a pair of 100-feet-long wings made of fire appeared, along with a woman's body. The exceptional creature raised her head and smiled, fire literally dancing in her eyes. The Phoenix was back, and in her true form.
The Phoenix's wings were beating powerfully in the air as she rose from the ground.
''F.E.A.R. won't steal what burns in me! I am alive, and shadows will die; I am not afraid to die!'' shouted The Phoenix.
Then, a wall of fire rose from the ground and circled F.E.A.R.'s warriors, trapping them. The Phoenix joined her brothers for the battle speech.
''We are the chosen, the Wretched and Divine! We are called The Legion of the Black, The Wild Ones, The Fallen Angels, and we will fight until we die!'' yelled the reunited gods simultaneously, before a battle cry rose from the Wild Ones as they launched at the trapped soldiers.
Castiel literally flew to the single leviathan. It was quite ironic for Castiel to fight against a leviathan; both were God's creations. Leviathans were God's very first beasts, but proved to be too destructive, so God created Purgatory and locked them inside. Somehow, one of them had escaped, and only an angelic being could kill it. Castiel raised the blades high in the air, arms fully extended, before plunging the weapons in the leviathan's chest.
Castiel knew that Leviathans were indestructible and that stabbing it would only weaken the monster; the only thing he could do was to send the creature back to the Purgatory. So, Castiel sliced his wrist and used the blood that flooded there to paint a sigil around the leviathan's rapidly healing body. Once he has finished, he slammed his bloody hand on the leviathan's head and a crack resembling to a black hole appeared under the creature, sucking it in. Castiel straightened up and brushed the invisible dust on his trench coat before looking for his next opponent.
Meanwhile, The Deviant bolted to the Djinn, a silver knife that had been dipped in lamb's blood in his clenched hand. The Deviant was just about to stab the Djinn in the heart when the tattooed humanoid grabbed his jaw, fingers digging in the tender skin. More tattoos appeared gradually up the Djinn's arm, progressively coming closer to The Deviant's face. Suddenly, the Djinn's eyes darted above his shoulder, and The Deviant used that moment of distraction at his advantage and plunged the knife in the Djinn's heart. The Djinn immediately crumbled to the ground. The Deviant looked around, wondering if anyone needed help.
At the same time, four of the worst things The Legion of the Black could ever wish for appeared in the middle of the battle field: the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. The last time they were on earth was… before the apocalypse, 300 years back.
Death, Famine, War and Pestilence. The only way to kill them was to take their rings off. Amputating their ring fingers would probably also work, but to simply shoot them in the head with the Colt would do absolutely nothing. The Mourner sprinted to Death, The Destroyer lunged to reach War, The Prophet bolted to Famine and The Phoenix rushed to Pestilence.
Even though the Four Horsemen looked slightly old, they were nonetheless supernaturally strong. Death was holding tightly his Scythe, and was restlessly whipping the weapon at The Deviant's limbs when suddenly, The Mourner snatched Death's scythe and managed to cut off his ring finger. Death immediately vanished and The Mourner ran to help his siblings with the troublesome creatures.
In the meantime, all the Wild Ones were attacking the Kitsunes, the demons and the Enenras. Fifteen of them were wearing the demon skull maces and bolted to the demons and the Enenras, while the others assaulted The Kitsunes with their daggers. Sam, one of the best fighters of the Wild Ones, hammered down his mace on the first demon and was rewarded by the loud screeching that was forced out of the demon when it died. Shortly, he was smirking at his brother Dean, which had just killed his second demon. Blood painted their faces black moments later, the demoniac creatures all defeated. The Wild Ones were panting, but they were all still alive.
Then, only the two Kanimas were still alive. Sam and Dean switched their weapons for the charmed axes and charged at the lizard-like creatures. With one swift movement, Dean beheaded the first beast, while Sam cut the second Kanima in half.
The Legion of the Black and The Wild Ones looked around; all their opponents were dead, and nobody was even severely injured on the Legion's side
The Legion's victory call was louder than any other sound. Not only The Legion had defeated F.E.A.R., but they had gained their territory back. The legitimate power over the land and its population was stolen decades ago but they finally had it back.
Suddenly, The Mystic yelled, ''Let's get our families back!'', before The Destroyer slammed his fist on the silvery door that separated them from their goal.
As soon as the door was hammered down, a cloud of dust flew in the air and The Legion of the Black rushed inside, where their long lost brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers and children had been held captive for a long time.
Once they reached the cells, The Phoenix melted the bars that kept the prisoners captive. Cries of joy and relief came from everyone, both the former captives and their saviors. After a massive group hug, The Legion rushed outside, wishing to leave this place of pain and despair as soon as they could.
They ran to reach the exit and finally, they were out. However, they only had a few seconds of peace before a threatening hissing noise interrupted the celebrations.
The gods immediately turned around and crouched in a defense position. The Prophet, The Mourner, The Destroyer and The Deviant all shifted into their six-foot-tall black wolves, their eyes glowing red. However, The Mystic shifted into an enormous griffin and The Phoenix stayed in her true form. All ready to protect the ones they loved, they stared at the newcomer.
''NO!'' shouted helplessly Castiel.
They had forgotten about one creature; The Serpentine Matriarch.
The Demoniac woman was standing about 100 feet ahead the group, only wearing an almost transparent linen robe to cover her body. Her snake-like tongue was rapidly batting the air, her taste buds catching the scents of those she thought would be her next victims. Her discolored pupils were fixed on The Phoenix
''So you thought it would be that easy to take me down?'' hissed the creature, an evil smirk across her face.
The Serpentine Matriarch was evil. Pure evil. Imagine Lilith, Azazel, a Shtriga and Eve all wrapped up in one being. Oh and when you're at it, add Satan. She was the Goddess that F.E.A.R. worshipped.
Then, her eyes darted where Castiel was standing, his gigantic black wings batting in the air and sporting a look of determination. Then, the former angel vanished, only to reappear behind The Serpentine Matriarch. Ten, he stabbed her violently with the archangel blades. The weapons penetrated her rotting flesh and emerged from her chest, black blood pouring out of the deadly wounds.
''Not that invincible, are we?'' snickered Castiel as the defeated creature crumbled to the ground.
The Serpentine Matriarch choked on the blood invading her throat as she stuttered, ''This is not the end; I will come back for my revenge!''
''Yeah, I don't think so. BURN IN HELL!'' Castiel exclaimed as he dropped two fingers on The Serpentine Matriarch's forehead.
Black smoke erupted from her mouth and instantly, she disappeared. Her non-existent soul was now in purgatory.
Cheers erupted from The Legion of the Black as they realized that they were now in peace, and for good.
The gods hugged each other tightly and Castiel rushed to Dean, capturing his lips into a bruising kiss.
'' It's finally over! We can finally live in peace!'' Castiel beamed.
''Evil will always loose against the good side,'' replied Dean, nuzzling in his angel's neck.
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