A/N: I'M BACK, BABY! Words cannot express my regret for how long it's been since I updated this! Agh! I'm so sorry! I'm trying to graduate and that became a bit of a nightmare. I'm trying to find a job. I'm trying to write some original content for publishing. And on and on and on it goes, just stuff and things getting in the way. But I'm here and I'm in it up to my elbows, ladies, and gentlemen. Let's do this.

Hope everyone had a good Christmas! And I hope you all have a happy new year!

Shoutouts to: PrincessMagic! Wolfkid32! Applejax! And any and all Guest readers! Thanks so much for talking to me! Again, I'm so sorry I've been away for so long.

Here's a nice, LOADED chapter for you!

Enjoy!

Eliyon glided along, keeping pace with his charges easily. So many generations later, the little village had become a city and his first charge had become the patriarch of a strong lineage. He'd watched over them all, from birth to death, sometimes as himself, sometimes as a faithful companion or even as a friend. Currently, he was guarding twin sons and they were the most amusing by far. At any given moment, they could attack each other or chase away a lion.

Suddenly, a shadow passed over his grace and he drew his blade, on guard. Then the shadow became a shape in the trees, stalking his charges. He dove, slamming into it and driving it miles from the boys. When they finally stopped, the thing righted itself with a wet, hissing cackle. Dead gray and blackened flesh stretched too tightly over bones, limbs impossibly elongated, gruesome scars covering its body.

This wasn't something Father had created.

And yet, it felt familiar to him.

"Who are you?" Eliyon demanded harshly, holding his blade up, prepared for an attack.

The creature laughed again through its grossly distorted face. "He called me Lilith," it said. "I am the first."

Then it charged, slamming into him too quickly for him to dodge or deflect it. Lilith immediately lashed out at his wings, ripping through one with sharp talons and he screamed in pain. His grace flared angrily and threw it back with a screech as the holy light burned its flesh and he leaped to his feet.

Horror filled him to the brim.

In the midst of the attack, he'd realized what he was fighting.

Lilith was a soul.

"What happened? Who did this to you?" Eliyon demanded.

Lilith laughed again, baring fangs. "My father made me. I am the first. Many follow me, Angel. Your time of power will end!" She ended with a manic cackle.

"Who is your father?" Eliyon asked even though the word was bitter on his tongue. Father had created everything, and humans were special to him. He would never twist one of his beloved souls into something so monstrous. So who had?

The answer hit him as she replied.

"Lucifer," she hissed gleefully. "He will claim Heaven's throne!" She dove for him again, only to vanish in a flash of fire right as she reached him.

Eliyon only spared a second to contemplate what had happened. He shot for Heaven faster than he'd ever flown.

Michael had to know what was happening.

Michael was in the Mercy Room, hoping, as ever, for some word from his Father. The Cage was complete. Lucifer was free. Once he was imprisoned, would Father return?

A frantic grace suddenly impacted his own.

"Michael!"

He turned around in stunned surprise. "Eliyon?" He hadn't seen or heard from the Angel since he'd stationed him with the Grigori.

Eliyon landed, sliding through the doorway, feathers falling from his wounded wing. "Michael!"

"What has happened?" Michael asked. Eliyon was one of the few who could still elicit genuine concern from the Archangel.

"Lucifer is free!" Eliyon's voice dropped in volume but rose in intensity. "He's corrupting Father's humans! Their souls!"

Michael's eyes hardened and his jaw clenched.

Eliyon nearly gaped at him. "You knew?" he breathed in horror.

"I knew he was free," Michael said stonily. He saw no point in lying when Eliyon already knew the truth. "I did not know about the humans," he didn't sound particularly worried either. "Once Lucifer is locked away, we can repair the damage he has caused."

"No, Michael, we can't," Eliyon replied with shocking boldness.

The Archangel's wings slowly flared with his displeasure at being challenged.

"Michael, he's turning them into an army," Eliyon told him. "An army that can kill Angels." Logically, it made sense that if Lilith could wound him, she could kill him. He opened his wing to prove his point. Coppery grace oozed from the gashes and dripped onto the floor.

"What did that?" Michael asked, eyeing the injuries worriedly.

"Her name was Lilith," Eliyon replied grimly. "She was the first."

Something about Eliyon's words prevented Michael from dismissing his concerns as he'd done so many others.

"Show me," he ordered and held his hand out.

Eliyon grasped his forearm and the fresh memories of the brief fight flashed through Michael's mind.

Whatever this creature was, it had hurt Eliyon. And Eliyon was no ordinary Angel.

Heaven needed to be made aware of this threat.

"Go to the infirmary," Michael told him in a tone that would allow no argument.

"Yes, Michael," Eliyon nodded curtly after a moment's hesitation where he had seriously considered arguing, and left.

Michael was impressed with the Angel, in spite of himself. Flying with that injury, he'd been shaken by his discovery but not to the point of panic. He wanted to credit himself with Eliyon's maturity and capability, but he couldn't. Eliyon had exhibited those qualities as a Fledgling. Sending him to the Grigori had simply honed him.

Gabriel wandered Heaven's paths after hearing Michael's announcement, his wings trailing behind him, sunk in depression.

Lucifer was free, which meant the war was happening, which meant he was going to lose one of his brothers no matter what.

Maybe, just maybe, after some time in the Cage, Lucifer would make amends and Father would release him.

Doubtful.

He paused at the doors to the armory. Michael had ordered so many weapons made since Lucifer's Fall, he was surprised the doors could lock anymore.

Just how many were in there now?

He pushed the door open and walked inside. The sight of so many gleaming edges made him shudder. He didn't want this fight. But Michael sure seemed to. His brother's grace was the hottest in existence but ever since the Fall, there had been a dark anger emanating from him. Gabriel would see his wings shift and Michael's green eyes would harden and his grace would start to flare only to settle into a seething smolder. Michael spent so much time training with his phantoms that whenever Gabriel did see him, he almost didn't recognize him anymore.

He was already losing his brother.

As he had the thought, he swore that Michael had walked into the armory with him. He turned around, expecting to see him, his disapproving, stern glare. But he was alone.

And he could still feel his brother's grace in the room.

He followed it cautiously, not wanting to surprise his war-prepped brother. Michael was nowhere to be seen. However, the farther he went, the stronger the grace became.

One of the lances was out of place, tucked into a corner instead of in one of the many racks with the hundreds of others.

Gabriel froze. "No…Michael, you didn't…"

He approached the weapon like it was about to kill him on its own. He reached out and when his fingers touched it, the wrath, the hatred that Michael had poured into the sigils as he carved them burned through him like a Leviathan's poison. He snatched his hand back and slowly backed away from the lance, shaking his head.

"No…Michael, why?" he whispered, tears filling his eyes.

Michael may be following Father's orders to put Lucifer in the Cage, but he'd obviously added his own agenda to them.

When Lucifer went in, he'd be dying.

He'd never realized that Michael hated him so much.

A door thundered closed somewhere outside and Gabriel spun around, expecting to be caught. That was when he realized that he was afraid of his brother learning that he'd found the lance. He'd never been afraid of Michael before.

He waited until it was quiet, then he left. He failed to notice that the door didn't shut completely behind him. Then, he ran into Michael and he certainly hadn't meant to.

"How could you?" he demanded in a pained voice and he hadn't meant to say that either.

"What are you talking about?" Michael demanded in a low tone that would send most Angels looking for an escape.

"He's our brother, Michael!" Gabriel's voice rose to a shout. "Father said contain him! Not kill him!"

Michael's fist was in his brother's shirt then, his eyes flashing angrily and his wings flaring intimidatingly. "Watch your tone," he growled down at Gabriel.

Gabriel's wings shrunk back as he stared up at his brother with wide eyes. "Michael, why?" he asked, his voice choked. "Don't do this. Please, don't—" He broke off as Michael shook him.

"I don't expect you to understand," Michael growled viciously. "But I do expect you to take a stand."

Gabriel looked at him with horror. "No, Michael, you—"

"No?" Michael glared at him dangerously.

Gabriel could see that lance in his mind, he could feel it piercing all the way to his core. "You promised!" he cried. "You promised you wouldn't make me!"

Michael's grace flared enough to force Gabriel's down. "So you would let him walk into our home," he hissed. "Or maybe you would open the gates for him. Is that it?"

"No, Michael!" Gabriel insisted. "I—"

"Then choose a side!" Michael snarled at him.

"I don't want you to kill him!"

"And just what do you think he'll be trying to do?" Michael asked venomously. His wings flared open, revealing the scars that would never fade.

"You're stronger than he is, Michael!" Gabriel cried. "You've always been stronger than he is! You don't need me! I'm not going to fight!" He paled then, realizing what he'd just said.

Michael shoved him back and drew his blade. "Yes, you will," he growled, grace swirling like an inferno.

Gabriel backed away with his hands raised towards his brother. "No…Michael, please, wait. Just wait—That's not—"

"What you meant?" Michael finished the statement, stalking forward.

Gabriel suddenly felt a wall press against his back. "Michael…" he begged, pushing back, still trying to escape his brother's wrath.

He'd never been afraid of his brother before.

"Draw. Your. Weapon," Michael growled.

Gabriel shook his head, his golden eyes filling with tears. How had it come to this?

"Draw your weapon!" Michael shouted.

Gabriel wanted to shout back, tell Michael that he refused to fight either of his brothers, make him see reason, see that what he was doing was wrong.

He just stood there. When Michael raised his blade, he stood there. When Michael slammed the blade into the stone beside his head, he just stood there.

"Once we fought together," Michael said in a low tone but there was no fondness in his voice like when he used to recall those moments. "You will fight. Or I will count you among the fallen."

Michael snatched his blade free and walked away, leaving Gabriel leaning against the wall. Then, in a flash of gold, he flew for his aerie.

He failed to realize what Michael had said. Fallen.

Michael hadn't just been referring to Lucifer.

Btw, if anyone finds a random SJ between scenes that I forgot to replace with a line, please let me know. After typing for hours, it all blurs together. It's nothing secret lol it just stands for Scene Jump.