XI – Angel

The boy's body was shining with red light when they arrived. He was suspended slightly off the ground, but even as they watched, he touched down lightly. The being opened crimson, slit-pupiled eyes and smiled.

Frau growled something most inappropriate for a bishop.

Castor placed a hand on his friend's arm, dark eyes narrowed behind his glasses. We can't interfere with that. He knew that all of them felt this pressure, far more immense than their last encounter with this particular artifact. He's become stronger.

()()()

Hyuuga had gazed into Hell itself at Ayanami's side, but now, in spite of himself, he felt fear. The weak, albeit talented youth of moments ago had been replaced by something infinitely more ancient and powerful. The aura this being exuded was like to being a mile below water, with all the weight of the ocean pressing down.

The Eye of Mikhail smiled. "You dared to raise your hand against my Master." As though illustrating his own words, the hand that held the crimson stone lifted and pointed. The claws of bone that protruded from his flesh trembled and extended. "Die."

()()()

He was drifting down through the darkness like a feather. He breathed in… out. In… out. The taste of blood was on his lips. The things he had forgotten, was now the time to retrieve them?

Not yet.

He reached, trying to find a sense of direction in this nothingness. He wanted to know. Why he was broken, why he had been saved. He wanted to remember what was precious to him; otherwise, how would he find the strength to fight?

Peace. The time will come.

Who was speaking to him? Did they know those secrets- if so, why did they keep them from him? Why was he not allowed to know the truth of his own soul?

A feeling of warmth enveloped him.

Always so eager. You're such a stubborn child.

In spite of himself, he felt himself relax. He felt safe, and the driving urge to move forward vanished. He was content to allow himself to continue drifting. For a time. But sooner or later he would once again struggle to wake. Some things could not be changed. The being that whispered peace to him knew this, but they whispered nevertheless.

Peace, Teito Klein.

()()()

Hyuuga was panting, the dark material that passed for blood in this cursed body dripping from his wounds. He held a hand to his torn shoulder and reassessed his situation. The boy, no, that creature was not human. It was Mikhail; he was smiling, those claws of bone trembling as though in ecstasy. Eyes as crimson as the stone in that right hand mocked him.

"Are you still alive?" Mikhail licked the edge of one of the white spears protruding from his hand and grinned. "Perhaps I've gotten rusty." He glanced sideways. "Ah, the pitiful 'death gods' have arrived," he noted as though only just now noticing their presence. "You really should try harder to protect my master. At this rate his beautiful body might have been harmed."

Frau felt his eye twitch. I had forgotten how much of a pain that one is.

But Castor was observing the being through narrowed eyes. "Why are you here?" he asked. "How could you have found your way to Teito even after his rebirth? Even for you, that should be impossible."

Mikhail smirked. "You shouldn't doubt me, "Seven Ghost." I can do far more than you supposed." His gaze snapped to Hyuuga, soaring up and away. Crimson eyes narrowed, and the claws extended like an enormous wing of bone. But they fell short. "Hmph. He escaped." He gave a feral grin to the bishops. "Take responsibility, won't you?" But then his eyes fluttered. "I suppose I can't remain awake for very long yet without damaging my master's body. Guard him well, bishops. Or I will deal with you accordingly." And then the slender form fell, caught in Frau's waiting arms.

The boy's expression was peaceful, once again the face of Teito, not Mikhail. Frau cradled the youth in his arms, wondering how such a being as that could have been known as an angel.