1.

There is white, every where. Blinding, pulsing, shimmering white light and Malik cannot look away.

When it speaks, he must listen. That's just how it works, how he was born. To obey this light that he calls God, and heed each word without question, without hesitation.

Even now, it gives him orders.

"Yes," says Malik, and he would nod if could. Can't though. Can only stare straight ahead, into that unfading white. "Of course I can do that."

It pulses, warm and steady. Happy with Malik's answer, that it is being obeyed.

As if there is ever any other choice.

2.

The human world is odd, thinks Malik, but it is warm. The sun beats down on him, heat seeping through his bones in a way that it hasn't in many a year, because Heaven is where he normally stays.

To be sent outside of it is a rare privelage, one that Malik has never before been granted.

So though he always listens to the word of the Almighty Father, he plans to do an even better job. A swifter one.

Smite the evil that is growing in Egypt, and rid the golden land of its curse. Of a place called Kul Elna and the tortured spirit who lives there.

3.

"I already told you who I am," says Malik, annoyed. He has never met a spirit so petulant, so unwilling to believe him. "I'm an angel, and you need to pack your bags and get out of here!"

Across from him, Akefia frowns. Then he snorts, the action so full of disbelief. Of scorn. "No."

Malik blinks, because that isn't the bickering that he was expecting. There is no arguement in the spirit's voice, like there had been just moment before.

Just simple, steady, unwavering sureness.

"No?" echoes Malik, and then he reaches out and jabs Akefia in the chest with one hand. "You can't tell me no!"

"I just did," says Akefia, and then he brushes past Malik and vanishes once more into the dilapidated wall of a building.

4.

"I'm trying," says Malik, and his gaze is frozen onto that too bright white again. Cannot move, can barely breath, and a sharp pain begins to spread through his chest.

Father is not happy. Malik isn't working quick enough, isn't showing complete and utter devotion anymore.

Has a hard time not thinking of the man with white hair and dark skin, who so confidently walks through that long forgotten city every day, as if he is looking for something, anything - and that pain gets stronger until Malik is only thinking of the white that surrounds him.

"I'm sorry!" he screeches, and if he could move he would throw his hands up to protect his face. As it is, he cannot even close his eyes. "I'll do better! I'll make him come here!"

The pain lessens into a dull, steady ache. Even when the light recedes, it does not.

5.

Two strong hands pin him to the wall, and the stone is rough on his bare skin. It hurts like nothing else, pressing into the scars that Father refused to heal, and Malik gives a low whine.

Akefia just stares at him, face drawn and eyes steady. "Why are you still here?"

"I can't leave yet," whimpers Malik, and he cannot hide the fear in his eyes. Doesn't even try, because what is the point?

He may be an angel, but he can still feel pain. Akefia may be a spirit lost to time, but he can still cause very real injuries, and Malik is very tired of hurting.

"Why not?" demands Akefia, nails curling into Malik's bare flesh.

Malik doesn't answer. The pain is back in his chest, a low warning to pick his words carefully.

"I said why not?" snarls Akefia, and their faces are only inches apart now, just a small breadth of air between them.

So Malik decides to pick the lesser of two evils and he leans forward, slamming their mouths together in a fear-fueled kiss.

Later, he will wonder if was the right decision. Right then, he is only focused on the way Akefia's grip loosens just slightly.

6.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," breaths Malik, and that ever-present white is surrounding him again. Pulsing with the same beat as his heart, a threat that Malik knows all too well because his very existance depends on what this strange force feels.

Right now, it feels angry.

Malik knows very well that he is supposed to think of one thing and one thing only. What Father wants, and what Father says. Not his own needs, his own feelings, his own thoughts.

Certainly not on love, and why would Malik even attempt that?

Why would he even try?

Right there, in that moment, with pain filling his very being, he cannot remember why.

7.

"I need you to leave with me," says Malik, and he tries not to let his voice shakes. Doesn't think he's doing a very good job at it though, because Akefia has the oddest look on his face, almost like he's worried.

"What?" asks the former king of thieves.

"Leave. With me," repeats Malik, slower this time. Trying very hard to put something into his words, some form of emotion, something to make them not seem so empty.

It may work. It may not. Either way, Akefia's face crumples into a scowl and he turns away.

"I thought you had gotten over this," he snaps, and has every right to be pissed. Malik knows that, but still wishes that, for once, Akefia would listen to him.

"Akefia," starts Malik, but Akefia doesn't let him finish. Just stands up and walks away and takes the warmth of his body with him when he does.

8.

"You can't do that!" Malik's eyes are wide and he does not think that the Light has ever scared him like this before, has ever used such threats against him.

Because that are what his words are, really. Nothing more then thinly veiled threats, backed with the power that Malik has never understood.

It pulses, and the white fills his vision completely for a very long moment. Then it withdraws, and Malik can breath again, but doesn't want too, doesn't want too, just wants it to go away.

"Please," whispers Malik, desperately wishing that he could move. Do something. Anything. "Don't do that to him."

White shifts and Malik swears it is laughing. Just like he swears that he is crying, but that is a ridiculous thought because he cannot cry here. Should have no reason to cry here.

Heaven is meant to be paradise, after all.

9.

The once proud city of Kul Elna is in ruins and Malik watches from afar as Akefia tries to sift through it, to find something that has not crumbled into ashes and dust.

Everything has been destroyed though, because destruction is Father's specialty, and Malik knows full well that Akefia will find nothing that can be salvaged. All those millenia of surviving and protecting his home are gone now, and it leaves an ache in Malik's chest like little else ever has.

"I'm sorry," he says, but only the Light hears him.

10.

It is a simple choice, when it really comes down to it.

Father wants Akefia gone, wants Malik to get rid of him. And Malik cannot do that. Cannot blindly follow orders this time, cannot be afriad of the white or the light or the hand that always has a firm grip on his heart.

Father wants someone to pay for the sins that Akefia has committed.

So Malik takes that blame onto himself and, when the white begins to devour him, he smiles and tries to tell himself it is all worth it.