He was old enough to know better than to trust again, the pain from the last time that the creature had done so was still enough for his hands to tremble and his essence to quiver, a pathetic mess inside his meat-suit.
How a vague memory could reduce himself to such made him sick with self-loathing. The living creature was unsure of what exactly happened, but the result, most of his powers and memory blocked within him by a sleek colorless dome.
Every poke and prodded filled him with mind numbing pain and fear. He tried half halfheartedly every couple centuries to skirt the dome in a vain attempt to reach what was hidden within it.
Finally managing to find a weak spot did not turn out as the living creature had expected. Poking a hole through it was a mistake that cost him his mind. In his insanity a blight spread all across Midgard.
It was after the plague the living creature met the only one that he could trust, Loki.
No matter what that was one thing that did not change. The god didn't look at him with pity, disgust, or fear, despite his self-destructive tendencies, his dark twisted essence, or tendency to lash out and destroy while lost in the throes of madness, seeking his missing half beyond the shadows in his own mind.
Ever calm, the Trickster stared at him with an empathetic gaze, simply listened quietly to his rants and raves. He would fixed him up after acts of mutilation, cleaned up the mess he made, smile at him, taking him across Midgard to cause mischief and eat sweets. When the pagan gifted him a small rune engraved bracelet of glass beads, feathers, and twine enchanted assist in calming his mind, the creature felt an emotion he devoutly refused to look into.
If it wasn't okay, he made it okay, and the living creature was able to forget the dark empty silence that lurked barely tolerable with the help of the bracelet's warm glow, and the vague nightmares when he slept.
It was okay. Until it wasn't. Demons, and angels began roaming the earth, whispers of the Light Bringer's Rising. Loki's tight smiles and haunted eyes as empty assurance after empty assurance flowed like sweet vinegar off his once silver tongue tarnished by the led weight of each lie. He was worried.
Despite the fact that the creature was older, Loki had taken the role as the strong one. Fearless and confident, the pagan god always lightening the mood with jokes and teases.
Loki was the Trickster, the living creature's best friend and he liked to think brother, something he always thought but never said. Loki never said anything and he wouldn't be the one to presume their relationship was more than it was. Until it didn't matter wasn't.
The creature had been preparing to free Loki from the ring of fire he had been trapped in, slightly confused as to how it could trap him when his fellow Trickster was also a spirit of the hearth.
He soon learned why, and the revelation that Loki was actually the archangel Gabriel was a crushing blow. Everything slowly fell into place, even as more puzzles were revealed.
Any desire to retaliate against the smart mouthed mortal was lost in the oh so familiar sour tang of iron at the back of his throat, the rising feeling of inebriation accompanied by swirls of black, red hazing the edges of his vision.
The serpent left before he lost himself completely to his rage, slipping out of his meat suite, leaving a confused amnesiac teenager dazed in an abandoned apartment. Archangel or not, he would regret killing the one he had considered his closest friend.
That night looking through a powerful enough telescope, bright lights could be seen winking from existence in the sky.
light years away several stars were consumed by a massive ebbing dark form.
.
..
.
He should have stayed away from America. Hel he should have left Midgard altogether, but no, even if the country was swarming with humans and demons, his two least favorite beings it was were his favorite little known grocery store Felix Garden Produce had set shop.
It was surprising how dedicated the family that owned it was to all natural non GM foods. Not that he had to worry about any effects such things like that had on him being a supernatural entity. Anonymous donations and loyal customers kept it up and running.
He couldn't be bothered to search else were for such a quaint little store like it, staying near to Gabriel had maybe a little bit nothing to do with it.
The creature glared moodily at the still twitching body of a rather unfortunate demon sans most of the front half of it's meat suit and spiritual body shredded.
Said demon was vainly trying to scream despite having it's crushed throat between his fangs, leaving the creatures hands free to reorganize it's insides into knots and bows.
The pathetic thing should have known better than to posses human that worked at the creature's favorite food market, and having the gall to pretend to be a cashier. touching the first bag of string cheese he had in weeks with it's tainted hands just sealed it's fate.
No. He was not taking out his abandonment issues out on the thing yes he was. He did not have any abandonment issues enough to write a short book. Gabriel did not abandon him, he simply lied so he left ran away.
The archangel omitted the truth, misled him, allowed him to assume and get attached, built a relationship on a lie, like being an archangel didn't matter.
His teeth chattering a habit he never managed to break, the creature paced in front of the slowly healing demon.
A baleful glare was fixated on the shuddering pathetic thing as it struggled to escape it's meat suit. Vain, he could suppress a demon's powers with a thought, binding it to a body was child's play.
Impatient he resumed picking the demon apart, absently aware of the agony it must have been in as bits of the corrupt soul were peeled away.
The creature was left with a pile of lumpy meat bones and the bloody uniform the body had been dressed with, the writhing shade of the demon squirming in the grip of his essence.
He didn't notice any of this, senses only aware of one thing, something that left the creature feeling a mix of numbed shock and denial.
Loki, the Trickster archangel Gabriel's seidr/grace flared in a way the creature had never felt before overwhelming his passive empathetic sense, radiating agony painpainpain.
Essence throbbing in time with his meat suit's pulse, the creature hissed, tentatively reopening his senses. There was nothing.
He could feel all the bright beacons that were supernatural beings of a higher tier, alpha monsters, several crossroad demons, angels, several fae, an archangel-
His breathing was slightly irregular, but the creature didn't notice that, eyes swelling to glowing green wells. An archangel that was not Gabriel. Besides lingering residue that may as well be dust on the wind, there was nothing.
Hanging heavily on the creature's wrist, the woven feathered bracelet gag gift from so many centuries ago when they first became companions (obviously angel feathers now that he thought about it) was the strongest source of his friend's grace. There was nothing else.
Black gnawed at the edges of his vision. There was nothing else. Water along all major coastal regions receded gradually out to sea and warm vapor was carried by the cold winds.
Gabriel was Gone.
pov of a grey/neutral Leviathan that managed to escape/ or was never put into purgatory. Has mental scars from encounter with archangels or some other beings from purgatory as it escapes. While wandering around earth it meets Gabriel as Loki, and is adopted/becomes friends with the Pagan god. When Leviathan finds out Loki is Gabriel hates archangel, only to be shocked when he feels Gabriel's death when it sends shock waves through those spiritually. aware