Prologue:

-''Gods of War''-

-Jerusalem, Promised Land-

-Date Unspecified-

-Midnight-

A knight upon a black horse raced through the plains, entering the city gates, cracked open for him, and sprinting ahead. The gates snapped closed behind him, thunder bellowed and lightning flashed in the dark skies above, illuminating the world. "They art near!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, "The Beast's army is at our gates!"

Behind him,the archers upon the city walls began to fire flaming arrows outside, and the trebuchets were quickly moved into position, loaded, and fired.

"Where is Messoremel?" the horseman called, nearing the great stone castle in the center of the fortified village, "We need him here!"

"He is in his quarters," one of the guards replied, "What worries thee?"

"The Beast is attacking our walls, we need him out here!"

Lightning illuminated the room through the diamond grid windows as Messorem quietly climbed out of bed, turning to face Vitam still sleeping peacefully. He knelt to part her hair, kissing her head before righting himself, walking across the room to where his black, steel armor lay neatly piled on a chest. There was a light knocking on the door and he quickly jogged over, clad in only his animal pelt undergarments. He opened the door, spying Ophelia, his personal assistant and guardian standing outside, "Messorem, the guards have called for thee. The Beast is at our gates."

The archangel only nodded, "I will be there posthaste."

Ophelia nodded, turning and walking away, returning to her chambers. Messorem gently closed the door behind her, rotating on his heels to spy Vitam, wearing a nightgown, standing in the doorway to their bedroom, "What is wrong, love?"

"They have struck again."

"Art thee leaving?"

"The guard wants me at the gates...to help drive them off."

He quickly armored himself, turning around just as Vitam leaned forward to kiss him, hugging him, "Take great care of thineself, our love is still too young for me to be a widowed woman."

Messorem nodded, kissing his wife back, "But of course," and he bowed his head as Vitam put his helmet on him, handing him Bloodreaver, his bloodred, crystal sword, its blade surrounded in a blood-like mist.

"May the Lord watch over thee."

The reaper only nodded, sheathing his blade and opening the reinforced, wooden door, stepping out into the hall between his private quarters and the rest of the keep.

Messorem stepped outside into the downpour, finding the guards all on high alert, running towards the gates. Up ahead, he could hear the firing of the ballistae and the trebuchets towards the enemies outside of the walls. He quickly dashed to the stable, smoothing climbing onto his mare, as black as night with eyes the color of blood, who had been already armored for him by the stable boy. Petting the beast gently, he rushed out of the building, his mind flying like the wind across the winding, cobblestone road, heading towards the market district at the bottom of the bluff.

Upon arriving at the gates, currently barred, with a large mass of knights, pikemen, and horsemen gathering around, a voice called out to him, "Father, the guard brought thee out here as well?"

"Ah! Deitus, it is good to see thee, I trust thy sword and senses art sharp?"

"The Legate has completed my training," the young man said. He was of the fine age of seventeen, with his normally pallid skin tanned and burned from his training. His hair was long and straight, coal-black and hanging down to his shoulders, and his eyes were a bright, brilliant orange. His fine, smooth hands, still having yet to face combat or any serious labor, were trembling, holding the leather reins of his ashen gray mount unsteadily, though with fear or the rainy chill, the archangel did not know.

"Excellent...now we get to see first hand whether Raziel has trained you right."

"For a human, the Legate is knowledgeable in warfare."

"I trained him personally," Messorem chuckled, "I would only hope so, else that time hath been wasted for naught."

"I assure thee father, I shall not let thee down."

"Art thee afraid?

Deitus scoffed, "No! I am strong, I am a man."

"Thine hands are trembling...can thou wieldeth a sword properly?"

"Thine doubt is misplaced, dear father. I am strong, I can fight."

"We shalt see..." then he called to the gatekeeper, "Open the gates! We art prepared!"

While the heavy, reinforced gates were slowly opened and the drawbridge lowered over the moat, Messorem's forces launched out of the castle village and into the fields beyond. Spearheading the army, with Messorem himself at the helm and Deitus to his right, the Old Regime, adorned in their ornate, steel armor, roughly designed into the appearance of a wolf to spark fear in their foes.

In a flash of lightning, the defending forces saw them...demons made entirely of shadow, clawing out of the ground like some undead hellspawn, With their fire and holy magic, the creatures of Filios Diaboli were destroyed and banished from the earth, sent back to the deepest realms of Hell. As the battle continued, a stray bolt appeared out of nowhere, grazing past Messorem and striking Deitus, knocking the young man off his mount and to the ground.

Screaming his son's name, Messorem tightly pulled back on the reins, his horse rearing into the air and flipping around unsteadily, rocketing back towards where Deitus lay, attempting to throw one of the shadow beasts off of him. In a swift, fluid motion, the archangel withdrew Soulreaper, a smooth, glassy blade, crafted from an aqua-colored crystal. This brilliant, blue blade quickly decapitated the shadowy monster, the demon's body turning into a black mist and quickly becoming sucked into the pure blue blade. Once the mist was absorbed, there was a brief flash of light, and the dark blue, almost black gem set into the silver pommel glowed with a scalding heat.

"Father!" Deitus exclaimed, but Messorem quickly rode past him, grabbing his son's outstretched arm and lifting the immortal demigod onto the back of his pitch black mount.

Soon, the defending army reached the heart of the invading party, where the traitorous archangel Lucifer, clad in armor crafted to look like a dragon, was barking commands towards his forces, sitting atop an unnatural, bloodred mount. As Messorem passed by, he leaped off his horse, giving the reins to Deitus and throwing himself into the evil archangel, knocking them both to the ground. They briefly wrestled in the mud before Lucifer gained the advantage tearing Soulreaper free from Messorem's scabbard and preparing to thrust the blade, capable of killing both angels and demons, into the reaper's breast. Before he could, however, Deitus steered the archreaper's mare back around, roaring as he rammed into Lucifer, knocking him to the ground and dropping off the horse. The beast herself continued sprinting back towards the castle village, and Deitus stared both Messorem and Lucifer down.

The rogue archangel chuckled, picking himself and wiping the blood from his mouth, saying, "Thou must be the bastard crossbreed of the reaper and the ascended human."

"Silence!" Deitus hissed, but he was trembling weakly, and Messorem sat up.

"Deitus! Back away!"

"Art thee a slave to thine father? Surely thou art old enough to maketh thine own decisions?"

Deitus slowly dropped his weapon, a crossbow, from his shoulder, aiming towards the treacherous archangel.

Lucifer only grinned, shrugging, "Thou art nothing more than the rest of God's angels, lesser creation and slaves to the humans. What a pathetic existence. I fight to liberate all of the angels from the King's dictatorial command, yet thou will blindly follow thine father like a swine to the slaughter. But go ahead, destroy me, silence the resistance."

"Deitus..." Messorem warned, "Back away. Let me kill this wretched beast!"

"Yes, do what daddy tells thee...or perhaps...be thine own person...be free of his abuse, be free to make thine own choices. Art thou a free man? Or art thou but a slave. Join me, together, we will ensure that we art given the same rights as the humans."

"Deitus...don't listen to him! He's corrupt and treacherous!"

"This is an offer I will only extend once...so choose wisely."

"Deitus..." and Messorem stood, walking towards his son, "I ordered thee to stay away!"

Just as Messorem was about to pull Deitus away, the young man, eyes streaming, turned towards his father, firing the bolt into him. With a hiss, the reaper attempted to pull the bolt free, but Deitus loaded another one, slowly approaching his father and taking aim.

"Yes...free thineself from this abusive wretch! Kill him!"

Before Deitus had a chance to shoot, Raziel appeared from behind, impaling him with the dropped Soulreaper. Although the weapon did not kill the immortal being, he collapsed to the ground in pain, and the Old Regime soon surrounded them, laying into Lucifer who teleported away.

"Father..." Deitus, on the ground, began, crawling towards the reaper, hand clutching his chest.

"Don't touch me!" he hissed, "I am not thine father, and thou art not my son."

This alarmed the boy, who visibly flinched, "No...father, I'm sorry, I..."

"Leave me be! Thou art nothing more than a disrespectful disgrace to God's holy name. Be gone wretched spawn! Never return to our home! Thou art banished from our sacred home!"

"Father! Wait!"

"I said BEGONE!" and Raziel helped the severely wounded Messorem to a stand, leading him back to the city, leaving Deitus sitting in the mud and rain, sobbing for his father to reconsider, but he was ignored.