Disclaimer: All characters are the property of Cassandra Clare.

Your Time is Gonna Come

Victory should have been his.

It had been so close; he could have reached out and touched it, the feeling tangible. He should have been taking his seat upon the throne, looking down upon those who dared defy him. Defy his power. Defy his ability.

There was no reason why he shouldn't have been successful. Everything had been aligned perfectly. He'd had the new Mortal Cup. He'd had Shadowhunters who were willing to turn their backs on the Clave and start a new regime. A much more powerful regime. One that would still remain once they laid the world to waste.

Most importantly, he'd had Jace at his side. His constant. His other half.

And that had been taken away from him in the blink of an eye. Because of her. His flesh and blood. His sister.

Clary.

Sebastian knew he should have seen it coming, He should have predicted she would do something like this. She'd had plenty of time with the faerie ring to contact her friends and alert them to what he was about to do. He supposed that was what he got for being so trusting, thinking that she was like him.

That's where he'd made his mistake.

Clary was nothing like him. She was weak, but then he supposed that had been Jocelyn's—his mother's—influence on her. She'd wanted Clary to be raised like a mundane and that had done nothing but poison his little sister. Taken her away from what she could become by showing her how to love and express emotions.

Basic human weaknesses.

There was no place in his world for any of that. Sebastian would show them all. He'd been successful in raising his true mother—Lilith—though she was weak after what the vampire had done to her. But with each Shadowhunter he brought to his side, with each death he caused with his hands would make her more powerful. She would walk the earth once more, along his side.

Mother and son.

Sebastian looked down at the angel kneeling on the floor beneath him. Israfil—the angel of Judgment Day. Fitting for what Sebastian had in mind. He would show them all that he was still out there, stalking them, waiting for the moment to strike again.

Judgment Day was coming and Sebastian was going to be on the frontline, raining Hell on them from all directions. And it was going to start with this angel.

"Look at me." Sebastian's voice was soft as he made a slow circle around the creature.

Israfil lifted his head, the faint light in the room reflecting off his wings, causing them to shimmer. They couldn't exactly be described as white—it was a prism of colors. Pale silver, with streaks of violet and dark blue, each feather seemed to be intricately outlined in gold. They moved softly in the stale room, kicking up dust motes in little dancing swirls. The angel's eyes were sad as he looked up at Sebastian.

"I don't want your pity. All of you think you're better than the rest of us, sitting on high looking down on us. Passing judgment on those you think is beneath you." Sebastian smiled chillingly as he came to a stop in front of the trapped angel. "A new day has come. A new order is about to take over. And there is nothing that your filthy kind can do."

The angel remained quiet, but Sebastian didn't miss the flicker of fear in its golden eyes. It was quickly replaced with the piteous look once more.

"Soon, everyone will know my name and they will fear me. I'll do what my father never could. I'll cleanse this world of the true filth—not the Downworlders he thought was tainting the earth. Humans. The very creatures you created."

That will not be possible. Sebastian's eyes narrowed as the angel's voice softly whispered in his head. As much as you despise the humans, keep in mind that you are also one of them, Jonathan Morgenstern.

"I'm nothing like them."

The blood that runs through your veins may be demonic, but it is also human as well. Your mother—

"Don't you call Jocelyn my mother!" Sebastian yelled. "She never was a mother to me. She hated me the moment I was born. Lilith is my mother!"

She never hated you. She hated your father for what he did to you, for tainting you.

"My father didn't taint me. He knew what I was capable of even before I was born. He knew of my potential. He enhanced me."

You poor child—

Sebastian didn't let Israfil finish as he lashed out with his dagger, driving it through the angel's chest. Golden blood oozed from the wound as he pulled the knife out, splashing onto his hand. Sebastian's skin hissed as the blood touched his flesh, much the same way demon ichor burned the other Shadowhunters when it came into contact with their skin. "I told you I don't need your pity."

Do you truly believe you cannot be saved, Jonathan Morgenstern?

"Stop calling me that—my name is Sebastian." He began another slow saunter around the injured angel. "And what makes you think I need to be saved? I believe that boat has already set sail."

It's not too late…

Sebastian came to a stop behind Israfil, his hands brushing along the soft wings. They sent tiny jolts of electricity through his fingers, but he didn't mind the pain. Pain was another weakness. "I think it's time you helped to send a message to some friends of mine."

Israfil's screams echoed around the room as Sebastian took a wing in each hand, ripping them out of the angel's back with a savage jerk. Bone jutted from the ends, sinew dripping onto the floor as he looked at his handiwork. He frowned as the angel's screams became louder and louder, threatening to burst his eardrums.

Rolling his eyes, Sebastian placed the wings on the floor. Retrieving his dagger from his weapons belt, he gripped the angel's hair, jerking his head back. "I think it's time we called an end to this meeting. I'd like to thank you for your contribution. You can rest easy knowing you did not die in vain, Israfil."

With a flick of his wrist, Sebastian severed the angel's head from his body, letting them both fall to the floor with a thud.

It had been entirely too easy to Portal into the Institute. Sebastian had been slightly disappointed to find there had been no challenge. It was almost as if they weren't taking him seriously. Then again, Shadowhunters had become accustomed to associating evil with Valentine. As far as they were concerned, Valentine had been as bad as you could get.

There simply wasn't anyone who couldn't compare to his father.

That would be their downfall. Their biggest mistake would be to assume he wasn't capable of inflicting darkness unlike anything the Clave had ever seen. Maybe they thought he couldn't do it because he was still a child in the eyes of the Clave.

At least they had been smart enough to recognize him as something of a threat, considering there was an order to kill him on the spot. They would never get that chance though. After all, they had tried to kill him before and look where that had gotten them.

Taking out his stele, Sebastian dragged the tip across his skin, burning the Soundless rune onto his flesh. Then, he set to work on his task.

He was quick. Within a few minutes, he had set the angel's wings in a grotesque display in the middle of the library floor, the golden blood pooling in the center. Walking over to Maryse's desk, he found a piece of paper and scrawled a single word, one surely to inflict fear among the Shadowhunters and the Clave.

Erchomai.

I am coming.

Satisfied, he crossed back over to Israfil's wings and placed the note on top. He took out his stele once more and walked back over to the wall where he'd entered before. He was just placing the tip to the wall when voices drifted through the hall, catching his attention.

"There you go," Isabelle's voice said. "Good luck getting past him to see Jace."

Sebastian crept to the door, poking his head out as soon as Isabelle's footsteps retreated down the hallway. His hands clenched into fists when he saw the petite girl with flaming red hair standing before the door to the infirmary, conversing with one of the Silent Brothers.

Clary.

Sticking to the shadows, Sebastian slipped into the hallway, the Soundless rune on his arm masking any noise he was making. His dark eyes stayed on his little sister, remembering the way he'd ran his hand down her body, remembering the fear he'd seen in her big, bright green eyes. He longed to have her again, touching her, hurting her.

Clary entered the infirmary just as Sebastian heard Maryse's startled yelp coming from the library. He smiled to himself as he listened to her heaving, throwing up whatever had been in her stomach. Sebastian barely had time to press himself against the wall as Brother Zachariah glided down the hallway before going into the library.

Sebastian knew he should leave. He was pressing his luck as it was by sticking around for this long. But he couldn't help but be curious about what was going on in the infirmary. Luckily, the door was opened just a crack, just so he could make out two soft voices.

Jace and Clary.

"There just isn't anything," Jace was saying. "I knew his plans through the ceremony at the Burren. Beyond that, I have no idea what he's going to do next. Where he might strike. They do know he's been working with demons, so they're shoring up the wards, especially around Idris. But I feel like there's one useful thing we might have gotten out of all of this—some secret knowledge on my part—and we don't even have that."

Clary's voice broke in. "But if you did know anything, Jace, he would just change his plans. He knows he lost you. You two were tied together. I heard him scream when I stabbed you."

Sebastian bit down on his lip to keep from making a sound. It took every ounce of restraint he had not to burst through the doors and take them both once again.

"It was a horrible lost sound," Clary continued. "He really did care about you in some strange way, I think. And even though the whole thing was awful, both of us got something out of it that might turn out to be useful."

"Which is…?"

"We understand him. I mean, as much as anyone can ever understand him. And that's not something he can erase with a change of plans."

Anger coursed through Sebastian's veins as he turned away from the door and stalked away. He couldn't listen to that drivel anymore. They honestly thought they knew him? They truly thought they could defeat him.

You know nothing about me, little sister. You haven't even scratched the surface.

Sebastian came to a stop in front of another shadowed wall, removing his stele from his pocket. His hand was nimble as he drew the rune, creating a Portal that would take him away from the Institute.

The end is coming. A new era is about to begin.

Reviews are appreciated. Please, let me know what you think.