A/N: I've wanted to write this story since I was in 6th grade. I only ended up making some of my own manga about it, and God knows how much paper I used up. Well, I think its time to write it out.

PROLOGUE

"You may have casted me out in the past, but not this time!" The dark king shouted and pounded his black sword on the angel's white sword. The force was too much for him. Michael lost balance and banged his head on the rocky ground as he fell. His sword was tossed a few feet and shattered when it met a boulder. Shattered and smeared in scarlet blood, his white armor no longer shone.

No…I'm losing it…I must stay conscious! Fatigue took over and paralyzed his arms and legs, his vision blurred. Get up! Damn it! Get up! But his legs refused to move and only managed lift his head. Pain erupted along his spine as if he was whipped and his head dropped limply once more. What happened to me? Didn't I defeat him before? How did I do it? Why can't I put a scratch on him now?! Why?!

Before he knew it the tip of the black blade found his neck. "Pathetic." Michael could only hear the voice, his strength drained from everything. I can't even look at his face…

"Sorry, my win."

Though he couldn't see, he could've sworn that his brother Lucifer smiled, triumphantly. The blade made a movement, his neck burned, blood was spilled and he screamed in agony.

"NO!" Yuki reached out- for the ceiling, the dull, white ceiling. Cold sweat was pouring from his brows. He traced his neck, which somehow still ached from the dream and found it as smooth as ever. Relieved he breathed out and plopped his head back to the pillows. He had been dreaming again the same dream ever since he turned seventeen. Why is it always about a war between angels?! It felt so real.

Am I going insane?

The night was colder than it was before. That's odd; I haven't changed the air conditioner temperature…

He rolled to the side and glanced at his alarm clock which says 3:00 AM. Grunting, he yanked the blanket and enfolded himself like a cocoon. At the same time, something flew past his eyes. Something white and his eyes didn't miss it, at least to make out what it was. He edged to the right side of the bed and lazily peered down the floor; a white feather. For a second he was awake. Yuki bent down and picked it up. Even in the darkness of the night, it seemed to glow. He had never seen a feather so white, so well trimmed, so delicate, so…

It was simply the most beautiful feather he ever saw in his life, but he couldn't recall from what bird and there were no windows in his room. He ignored it and went back to bed. But something wasn't right. His bed felt different. There was definitely something under his back; he felt a lump. Yuki rolled over and gasped. There was a pile of it. Where… did these feathers come from…It was somewhat terrifying, because God knows where it came from and there were certainly no birds. Even if there were, there are no white feathered birds in his area of neighborhood.

A drop of cold sweat trickled down his temple. He didn't like this. Yuki had never believed in super natural things. He doesn't even believe in fate. Despite a Christian, his parents hardly ever attend the weekly mass. They were only Christians because their parents were one.

But this is terrifyingly unusual. It was too peculiar to go with his realm of reasoning. He's not sure whether to cope with it or not.

Too tired, he decided to sweep away the feathers under his bed and went back to bed, although he remained wide awake for the rest of the night…

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Outside someone was watching, waiting, for the very following day.