Sophia's Chronicles
Chapter 94: Charlie's Archangels
Palazzo Versace, Dubai—May 2013, 3 months later
The morning sun flooded through the floor-to-ceiling windows in the conference room, contrasting the cold blue tones of the room in a gentle ambush. The light rays struck Lucifer's back not as an attack but as an offering, and from him the rays were amplified and spread as a golden halo. He tapped his foot impatiently and checked his wrist-watch. Farah Avedis noticed his impatience and nervously tapped the 'call' button on her phone. When her call refused to go through, she tried her best not to crush the device in her palm.
"Where are the others?" Lucifer muttered at a soft volume. Anyone could tell that this was the silence of a predator seconds before pouncing on a prey, let alone Farah whose heart was racing at uncharted speeds.
"They'll be here soon. Just heard that Viktor has checked in," she assured him, though not completely convinced herself. She checked her phone again and sent an angry text instead. "I wish Hovan could make it but he's too busy chasing after a whore with cold feet."
"Look, I don't care about your personal problems," Lucifer nonchalantly said, taking a sip of his drink. "But it had better not affect our arrangement."
"You have my guarantee that it won't," she promised with as much of a reassuring smile as she could summon. Soon, the other members of the committee appeared. It was an eventful day of deciding who got to live or die, which territories would be repurposed and what taxes would be paid.
"Where are we on the hunts?" Lucifer asked, leaning back into his seat.
"My four sons have captured the Dullahan and sent them for re-education in the shadow realm connecting life and death," Horus reported cordially. "Soon, Osiris will receive them and make them pledge their allegiance to their true King."
"Good," Lucifer nodded. "Us Underworld deities should stick together. We are the ones who give these mortals' lives any meaning, after all."
Kali, who had been still and stoic, spoke stiffly, "It is reconciliation, not fear, of death that gives mortality meaning."
"Tomato, tom-ah-to," Lucifer dismissed. "In the end, each life ends up where it's supposed to be."
The dark goddess averted her gaze, gold earrings bouncing as she did so. "Crowley still evades capture," she added.
"He's a tricky one for sure," Lucifer rubbed his stubble with a thumb, pausing in thought. "I'm assigning Abaddon to the case."
"What, you don't trust us?" she challenged, almost amused. "I thought we were going to have some executive freedoms."
"That hasn't changed," Lucifer answered, a slight tension pulling his words taut. "However, Crowley is a demon who betrayed his own kind, not to mention his own King. Consider this… an internal matter. Hand over your soldiers and intel to the Knight."
"This wasn't part of the agreement," Kali pointed out. "We paid our dues for you to respect our operations."
"The agreement was that your dues were a gesture from you, a sovereign entity, to assure me of your loyalty and acceptance. What I'm asking of you now is a gesture," Lucifer clarified, leaning forward in his seat. As he did so, placing his steepled hands on the table, there was a collective shift in everyone seated to slightly back away. "I hope this answers any questions anyone has about how things are going to work now. Let us all take a moment to remember our fallen friend, Morrigan. Such a pity how her land suffers now. All those dead cattle. Suicide rates going up. Tsk, what a disgrace."
"There'll be nothing to rule over if you kill us all," she rebutted, much to everyone's chagrin.
"Please, Kali," Ishtar said from across the table. Her lower lip sported a fading bruise that ran down her chin. "Let us not make the death of our allies be in vain."
"Some very wise words from Inanna," Lucifer agreed, all while coldness descended over the room in a thick blanket. Though his demeanour appeared calm, the shiver that ran through the gods revealed what he didn't speak.
A forlorn look washed over Farah's face. "Next up, we have Viktor," she announced to slice through the tension.
"Da," the elder vampire spoke up in his Slavic drawl. "The Vory are having good success with capturing these Children of God in Europe as you call them. It isn't so hard to brutally murder children after all. However, we did find that there is—how do you say—an obstacle rising."
"What obstacle?" Lucifer pressed.
"It's these, uh, Men of Letters," Viktor cautiously named. "We thought they learnt their place, after what you and the angels did. But they are somehow still attacking us, what with our presence being greater than before."
"This? You call this an obstacle?" Lucifer huffed. "They're just mortals. We are far greater."
"Yes, but they guard untold secrets," Viktor went on, sullenly sweeping his gaze over the table. "After all, they have been hunting my kind and others for centuries. Not to mention those fancy weapons they have. Naturally, we are cautious."
"Then take care of it," Lucifer impatiently ordered. "I don't need to deal with rogue mortals. You know how many people I have hunting the Children of God in the States? One. One human. I haven't heard him complain about Men of Letters. So don't tell me your little beehive of vampires can't handle this situation."
Viktor's chin sunk deeper into the palm it rested on. "As you wish…"
Farah cleared her throat. "Next order of business: Heaven's pillars."
"Yes," Lucifer began. "By now, I've given each of you specific targets within your territories, focus points of angelic energy on Earth. I want you to strengthen your presence in these areas. Terrorise those of Abrahamic faith. But no conversions."
The Chinese deity, Dragon King, said, "Forgive my asking, but are we going to war with Heaven? Because not many of us are fully equipped to handle that."
Lucifer sighed. "No, we will not war with Heaven, but that doesn't mean they've been innocent. You may remember that they tried to smite us in Lonford. It's time we get them on the same page as us. In fact, being hated by those angels is something we all have in common, wouldn't you say?"
There were no objections.
Sophia's House, Illinois—a couple weeks later
Amidst the tall grass, a slithering reptile messily scoured through the land. Ser Adler crawled up a tall rock – tall for him, anyway – and halted abruptly at its top. His dark, beady eyes surveyed the land for the source of the disturbance. His head bobbed up and down the rock as he clicked his tongue eagerly, calling out in squeaks for his lifelong companion. The one who arrived, however, did not meet his yearning. Enormous wings, easily the size of an Olympic pool, descended to land Lucifer on his feet, and then smoothly folded in on themselves to compress into his back.
The lizard watched closely, all while keeping to his little vantage point at a quiet distance. Lucifer simply paused, taking deliberate breaths as he took it all in. He extended his awareness to the air, but no wind arrived. He looked to the earth, but no essence touched his feet. Hm. This was confirmed with the very sight of the meadows. Dryness had turned leaves dull and flowers withered, as no rain had fallen in quite some time. The floral guardians were alive but barely, begging for nourishment. "This isn't supposed to happen," he muttered under his breath.
He wandered where his legs carried him, to a familiar spot of heartache. There, five young trees stood up to five feet, but, like its neighbours, had the pallor of sickness tainting their leaves and stems. Zara had said these were planted by his own son in an innocent attempt to play with creation. All this time, they had survived well enough, amidst the rest of the garden blessed by Sophia. Lucifer flicked a small spark of energy to one of the plants. Sure enough, the leaves revitalised to a vivid green. A moment later though, the green faded back to its dullness. Like this, the Devil used his newly-acquired might, a symptom of dominion over the planet, to pump his essence through the ground. Again, the meadows brightened up but as soon as he released his grip, everything returned to its feeble state. A streamlined sigh puffed out of his lips, accompanied with the dipping of his brows as they would moments prior to an explosion.
Still, he held fast. He pointed a finger in front of him and drew a five-pointed star, enclosing it in a circle. Each corner represented a different element – starting from the apex and going clockwise, the points denoted Spirit, Water, Fire, Earth and Air. Each element had conjured a fist-sized ball of itself, like a ball of light for Spirit and a ball of flame for Fire. Once the pentacle was completed, the problem became self-evident. The orbs of Water, Air and Earth had shrivelled to delicate sizes while those of Fire and Spirit had swollen up beyond what was natural.
"Someone messed with the natural balance?" he grew shocked, which only amplified his frown. Combative breaths flooded in and out of his lungs. He looked over the land once again. The very sight only horrified him further, but other than that, there were no traces of any other presence. Was it Crowley? Was it Kali? His shoulders heaved up and down in a steady rhythm. It seemed unthinkable to him that anyone could come in here and excise the divine essence that ran through the earth, removing any trace of what once embraced him from this sanctuary. They hadn't even spared the sparks of a cherub flowing through but a few plants, he thought. That was the thought that did it.
His fists clenched. A swift wave of frost bolted through the land in a rapid shockwave erupting from him. Ser Adler scurried behind the rock to take cover. Right then, the pentacle responded again. The orb of Light, representing Spirit, had immensely radiated at the expense of the other elements. Seeing that, Lucifer's blind rage died as soon as it had risen. He looked back down at his hands and back at the pentacle. "No…" he refused the truth shown before him. His face simply eased, but it was soon overcome with realisation. "It's not me, no, it can't be—the other gods disrespected the balance."
The pentacle was wiped. Lucifer peered at the empty plains. The plains peered back at him. They were judging him. He couldn't stand to be there any longer. When Ser Adler reclaimed his spot atop the rock, the archangel was nowhere to be found.
"Whatever's said between these walls, stays between these walls," Lucifer assured his guest in the confines of his quarters in Hell. Its wafting warmth was omnipresent and hugged the stone walls adorned with bookshelves, maps and armour. The ambient darkness was only barely offset by the candles and torches lit around the room, not to mention the luminescent Morning Star himself. "I've seen that exact same look on your face on everyone I've met lately. What's the matter?"
Naomi was seated at the round table stiff-backed, eyes staring pointlessly like an angel who simply allowed herself to fall. "It just isn't sustainable," she uttered, voice deep and hollow. "With everything that's happening, we're just under-equipped. No matter how much Raziel thinks he can do. He's just pulling out party tricks that he barely even understands. Where is he even getting these ideas from? I don't trust it."
"I think he's doing his best. From what I hear, it honestly isn't too far off from what I would have suggested. As for the execution, I think you're a better judge of that," Lucifer added, with a self-assured charm. The new radiance from his core seemed to take away age from his vessel. The youthful glow definitely showed in his icy blue eyes, which in their glee could lure anyone in to accept his every word. "So, have you considered my offer?"
Naomi pulled herself taut as she considered her next words carefully. "I only do this for Heaven's sake and nothing else," she hedged.
"Naturally," he gave her a single nod. "You can be their representative in my council. Be a part of the process."
"In return, you help us rebuild," she demanded, growing more confident.
"Those are some big demands. And there's nothing wrong with that. I'm willing to give you as much as you're asking for, but the compensation must be fair," Lucifer laid out. He had the sharpness of an eagle moments before swooping up its prey from the ground, but the patience of a wolf staying hidden in the bushes.
"You mean taking commands like the rest of your council?" she wondered with due hesitation. Her fingers twitched under the table as she continued, "One should hope that this isn't a free pass to let Hell reign over the Earth."
"Of course not," Lucifer defended like it was the most obvious fact. "Balance is key. I wouldn't seek to perturb that. Believe me, it's quite the opposite. I always thought I was one half of a whole. Incomplete, imbalanced without my other half. But it isn't true. I can be the balance the world needs, all on my own. The son of Heaven, the father of Hell—I am both and neither at once."
"That's somehow the least insane thing I've heard as of late," Naomi conceded. "Heaven's foundations on Earth are being shaken as we speak. It's unlike anything we've endured before."
"Consider it fixed," Lucifer promised, lifting his chin and bearing a reassuring smile. "I'll look into whatever's causing this awful ruckus." He observed the drooping of her shoulders with incredible scrutiny, timing his next advance with calculation. He rested his right arm back on the spine of his chair to angle himself more towards her. "Now that our intentions are clear, I just want to ask one more thing from you. A small favour really. If you're willing to do it, just name your price."
"Another favour?" Naomi raised an eyebrow. "What else is there?"
"It isn't too big," Lucifer expressively conveyed. "Let's just say, I… wasn't kidding when I said Michael would recognise your capabilities."
"What does Michael have to do with this?"
"You said it yourself. You need an archangel you can trust," Lucifer muttered in a slither. "I hope you're catching my drift."
Her eyes widened at the realisation. "You can't be- It's not possible," she stuttered.
"Like all the gods on Earth uniting behind Satan?" Lucifer joked. "Isn't it something you'd like, Naomi? The King of Heaven, back on his throne?"
"Yes, but the others…?" she breathily whispered as the very idea enraptured her. "They'll never accept it."
"No, not unless they had a good reason. Or a voice of reason, perhaps. One they could trust," Lucifer suggested, leaning forward slightly. The possibilities played like a reel in Naomi's head as his Machiavellian glee wove itself into his words. "Someone who's helping them through these tumultuous times. That someone could be you, once we get the reparations going. 'Naomi's back at it again with the heavy-hitters', they'll say. 'If she thinks this is what we need, we're going with it'. That would be nice for once."
"It won't be so easy. I need their unbroken trust. A show that I've actually got it under control," she went on, slowly nodding. "I need something not even Raziel could deliver." She thought back to all the times she'd won the angels' praise in undeniable victories. Then it clicked. "I'm going to need something from you."
"Hey, that's what making deals are all about," Lucifer casually remarked, gesturing as he leaned back. "Consider it sealed."
"My only concern is Raziel. He'll know something's up," she worried. "He'll start asking questions, poking holes."
"Don't worry about it," Lucifer assured her. A thin smile crept up both sides of his lips. "Nothing he does is gonna take away from your shine."
Purgatory
The Leviathan were not fooling around with concept of total dominance. Not a single creature dared cross their path when they dragged Jack back to their base, a monolith carved out of a cliff with a clear spiral winding around its exterior. It reached into the sky like a giant shiv and open arches at regular intervals on every floor allowed its citizens to bustle in and out. The back of the 'building' was attached still to the plateau which extended backwards, no doubt containing mazes and tunnels that allowed these Leviathan to materialise anywhere as they pleased. In the dead of the night, torches were lit between the arches and a drum-like chanting resonated from within the stone palace. The closer they got to it, the faster Jack's heart raced. A sense of impending doom crawled up his skin like an army of insects, just to know that he would be surrounded on every side by God's most ferocious creatures. There would be no escape.
The stairway that spiralled around the structure was also accessible from the interior and had brief interludes inside the cliff. It only got worse once he stepped inside. The crowd raged and raved once they spotted the angel, like wild animals at the sight of a lone prey. More than that, it was the sick anticipation of voyeuristic curiosity. They yelled curses and taunts at him in a language he was glad he didn't understand. The beasts were somehow contained behind the line demarcating the stairway and crowded every inch they could, even watching him through the hollow centre of the palace as he traversed higher floors. Finally, when he'd reached the highest level, he was hauled into a vast assembly amidst holes in the cave's canopy and rocky pillars protruding from the ground.
Jack was shoved roughly forward. When he regained his balance, he saw the mighty stalagmite throne a dozen steps above him, it seemed like. From atop the throne, a Leviathan remained seated with a wide posture, left arm supported by the armrest and right leg stretched out. Something about this one was different. He stared down at Jack with an aloof, silent disposition rendered in deep brown eyes set against sun-kissed skin—a stark contrast to the hysteria of every other beast in a fifty-mile radius. He was unfazed, as if there was nothing in the universe that could challenge him. All he had to do was raise a palm, and the boisterous chanting ended abruptly all at once.
The one who'd brought Jack bent a knee. "My King, I brought the angel as promised," he greeted, and stepped aside.
"Hm," the King had a perpetual frown as he gave Jack a once-over. "That's no angel, Revren." The beasts looked amongst each other uncertainly. "Look at him. That's an archangel."
Upon the staggering declaration, the crowd roared in unleashed desire. "Hang him! Pull out his guts! Boil him alive!" was among their cries. Again, the King beckoned them to be quiet with a single gesture.
"You, boy, what's your name?" the King asked him.
All Jack could do was notice each and every pair of eyes fixated on him, hyper-aware of the attention like it was a cloud enveloping him. He'd barely noticed that a question had been posed when the one named Revren pulled his head back by the nape of his neck. "The King asked you a question," he gruffly said, before letting go with a slight push.
The hazel orbs of Jack's vision flickered towards the King, who saw how the rays of light raining on the archangel reflected unblemished from his irises. Any ordinary person would have their heart pierced by even such a plain gaze. "Malachiah," he answered.
"You lie," the King pointed out. "You speak a false name, not given by your creator."
The accusation, almost immediate, caught Jack off-guard, but he said nothing to confirm his guilt.
"So be it. It shall not matter who you were. No one will find your corpse," the King stated, sounding almost bored.
Revren humbly grinned. "Shall we prepare him for the feast, Great One?" he asked.
"Him? That would be a pitiful feast if we ever had one," the King sharply rebutted. "Tell me, Malachiah, do they not feed you in Heaven? There's no meat on your bones."
There was a distinct murmuring spreading through the crowd. It seemed almost… disapproving. He certainly didn't like that.
"That's enough," the King stood up abruptly, scorn pulling his face tighter. "Hear me, beasts, for I speak the truth! For thousands of years they've humiliated us. Refused us the freedom to exist among them and stole our right to scavenge for sustenance. Instead, they left us their scraps and leftovers. By some stroke of luck, this star-child fell into our hands. Do you think our vengeance could be satisfied so quickly?"
"No!" they collectively yelled, overwhelming every sense Jack possessed.
"I promise you, we will have nothing short of a spectacle!" he declared, raising up both arms.
"Aye!"
"Torture!" he continued.
"Aye!"
"We'll make him writhe in agony!" he said, really emphasising his words.
"Aye!"
"And when he's swollen with despair, begging for mercy, we will devour him!" he pumped a fist in the air. Unbridled screams of delirium echoed and trembled throughout Jack's body. "Take him to my chambers," the King ordered Revren. "I want to do the honours myself."
As Jack was taken away, the King following closely behind, the crowd chanted his name in ardent support. "Cezar! Cezar! Cezar!"
The King's chambers were only little more than just a dedicated sanctuary where his subordinates weren't allowed—there was a small room amidst the rocky pillars just for keeping their prisoner. A window with stone bars gave way to a view of the dull vastness beyond. It seemed like the area was already prepped for the guest, full with shackles and sigils painted in blood. On the way in, though, there was nothing much of note in the King's residence. It was devoid of personal items, luxurious or otherwise, not that Purgatory was fertile enough for those. Perhaps a skeleton here or there. Yet a set of tools fashioned from stones and other endogenous materials was brought out. The guards took their leave, so it was now just Cezar and the archangel.
Jack's wrists were shackled above his head, leaving his knees to dangle with an uncomfortable bend while his feet, also shackled, coarsely rested on the ground. In searching him, the guards stripped away his jacket, shirt and pants, leaving him bare enough to feel the cold air bouncing on his skin. He only had his flowing hair to rest on his chest and back for some warmth. In this light, Cezar's brutish features were clearer – stiff cheekbones against a square jaw, guarded by an aggressive beard which was kept short but not neat. His robe was two pieces of woven fibres, one sleevelessly encompassing his torso and another tied around his waist. Its simplistic nature allowed Jack to glean every muscle, every contour of his body. Cezar traced the edges of a sharpened tool but some forlorn thought persuaded him to leave it be and approach Jack bare-handed.
"How did you end up here?" he interrogated, beginning in a deep voice.
Jack, though lower than Cezar's eye level, kept his head hung. "Almost destroyed the universe," he craned his chin up to face the Leviathan.
Cezar huffed. "I'd say I don't believe you, but history has laid bare the folly of archangels," he said. "Billions of years your kind spent, to keep us down, to vilify us as if we were nothing but an impediment. Yet what did we all witness? Two of Heaven's own archangels worked against that divine order, that precise plan calculated by the Great Architect Himself—whose ideology they used to wage wars against us. The most moral of beings too could stoop to our level. So you see, it will give me such delight to finally put an archangel in his place."
Jack eyed him with unspoken taunts etching cynicism on his true angelic form. He didn't realise, however, that the Leviathan King was an audience to his secret face. Cezar grew silent in pure witness of the archangel's sculpted figure, from head to toe, invoking full attention as though he needed to recreate every feature of Jack's real face in his mind eternally.
"Your eyes are scorching pools of blood like Lucifer's. Your glower is the spitting image of Sophia's feminine fury. You… belong to them, don't you?" Cezar deduced, running a thumb across Jack's chin and tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. "Do you know what they did to us?"
"War. I get it," Jack uttered, suppressing an eye roll.
"Do you?" Without so much as warning, Cezar delivered a clenched fist to Jack's abdomen, leaving the archangel to curl in and release a sharp groan. The skies protested with a sudden, sharp clap of thunder. "On the frontline of every war, there he was. Lucifer. He led the charges against us. Destroyed our homelands. We were on the Earth first, but no, we weren't allowed even the soil beneath our feet. The Morningstar was always an omen of death. That one could fight like a brute. Last I saw him, he was ripping my brother to shreds. Limb to limb. Nothing was left. Not even a claw. This one's for Idaro."
Another gut punch sent Jack's awareness straight into the crown of his head, leaving black spots to appear in his vision. More names were listed, each one accompanied by larger driving force. It would have been forever if Cezar had made it through to the end, but he wasn't so intent on ending it all just yet. He paused to give his own knuckles a break, leaving Jack with the sensations of blood pouring down his jaw and dripping onto the ground. With every outburst of thunder, the Leviathans' triumphant howls echoed in the distance.
"And don't get me started on your mother," Cezar threatened with an accusatory finger. "The absolute gall she had, swearing that she would 'show mercy on me' if I just retreated my forces. The audacity, saying that to me just when I had the tactical advantage. As if we would forget their violent history of conquest, simply because Lady Wisdom descended from her holy throne. I could have killed her right there and then, you know?" He leaned in closer to Jack's ear, his breath tickling Jack's skin. "The things I would have done to her sacred vestments… Such honourable things are only meant to be desecrated."
The archangel's head spun in pulses. "Is-" he spat out blood. "Is that what you want-" a heavy breath later, "-to do to me?"
He slowly lifted his head up. Somehow, even through his tired, half-open eyelids, Jack's searing irises sent a static spike through Cezar, from head to toe, just as they had when the boy was first presented to him. Cezar raised Jack's chin with the flat of his index finger. "Something tells me you're not as pure as you seem," he told the archangel. "But it's always hard to tell with your kind. Such wretchedness could lay underneath this pristine exterior. I suppose I'll have to tear away all your layers myself."
The tension truly morphed when Cezar picked up his toys. They seemed innocuous at first, until Jack realised the true sadism involved in making such tools. Cezar ambled to his back, tracing his skin with tenderness until he found a firm grip on the archangel's left wing bone, the one that was grazed by a harpoon not so long back. Such a strong hand the Leviathan had, squeezing every wince out of Jack. But that was just the tease. A stiff metallic vice was wrapped around all three pairs of bones harbouring Jack's wings. The inner surface of the vice contained naked spikes. With the tightening of a screw at its base, it grew tighter and tighter, until the wings were drawn unnaturally taut and spikes finally pressed into him. Jack released a long, compressed wail. He flailed about in an attempt to be free of it but to no avail. He was unable to think, mind in complete disarray as his back arched to avoid being flayed. With such a strained twist on his wings, he couldn't help but take shallow breaths just to distract from the pain.
Jack's eyes were narrowly set as he fixated on a single point on the wall. "That the best you can do?" he taunted, spitting out more blood. "I've met monks who made me feel more than you."
"I'm just getting started," Cezar reassured him with a diabolical smile. Now at Jack's front, he cupped the archangel's face with both palms. "Look at that stunning halo. Like a sunset on fire."
The more Cezar stared at his halo, the more Jack felt his head being tugged at. He couldn't explain what it was, but it was like his skull was being pried open with just a look. He tried to resist it as much as he could, but it was the eyes. Jack's eyes widened so far as to expose the whole circles of his irises. He tried to avert his gaze from Cezar but it was too late—he felt an intrusive other from behind his eyeballs, swishing and swirling around in his head. Black goo dripped from his eye sockets. He could feel it all through his throat, his lungs, his guts, his veins, everywhere. Just an uninvited invader taking rein in his form. The black tendrils even scoured across his halo, enveloping the sphere of divine light like a weed conquering soil. The archangel clenched his jaw but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't expel the Leviathan's essence out of himself.
"You think… you're the most evil… thing to be… inside me?" Jack spat out through tightly-clamped teeth.
"You know nothing of evil, boy," Cezar asserted, looking down upon him, expressionless. "Leviathan invented evil before your creators did." Then, leaning down to his eye level, the King said, "Now there will be nothing between us. God is not here and the night only gets younger."
All at once, the Leviathan's essence running through the archangel contracted every inch of him inwards, as if to fold him in on himself. This time, Jack roared in agony as all control was seized from his own body by an invading force. Every muscle, every nerve fibre was stretched like a rubber band. And his grace was not spared either. He burnt and flared in a fight against this primordial abomination like millennia of wars compressed into a single moment. It was a lethal nuclear fission of God's desire and hatred sucking him into its umbra.
Lightning flooded across the skies in intricate nerve patterns. His screams of pain reached frequencies far beyond human hearing, calling the elements of wind and rain to his aid. In return, the elements protested their inability to reach him through the sigils and cuffs, instead lashing out in a tantrum against the land itself. But what good was this against the nomadic beasts who could brave anything thrown at them by Heaven? They saw it but as an orgasmic symphony to dance and assert lechery to.
"You've got quite the record yourself," Cezar praised as he dug through all of Jack's memories without consent. "So you do belong here with us after all, Stormbringer." The base of Jack's neck sunk deeper into his clavicle as his throat seized up in vigorous effort. "Just… stop resisting," Cezar's voice suddenly became smooth. "Give it all up, Prince of Thieves. Orphan Warrior of Necropolis. Heir to Rigalia's Throne."
Jack grunted in between forced breaths, "I'm not… any of that… anymore…"
"You can't stop being who you really are," Cezar said, his speech echoing within the walls of Jack's skull. "Forgetting the past will never erase it. Face it, boy. You are a debased, reprehensible specimen of scum discarded into the waste bin of existence with a craving for grandeur, just like the rest of us. Even your creators were blessed once. But you… you were never pure. You will never be the archangel they want you to be. You are innately broken, tainted with imperfection. They will know this too, no matter how hard you try to hide it. Even if you're dead, the truth will come to light."
From within Jack's core, Cezar's slithering essence perforated the archangel's grace with more unrelenting innervations. This time, it squeezed so onerously from within that Jack's grace was shooting out through his scarlet irises like concentrated rays of sunlight. He almost couldn't take it anymore. No inch of him was left to himself. It was all completely and absolutely violated, leaving him with a feeling of total nakedness. And just when he thought it was over, his throat was nicked ever so slightly, leaving Cezar to dig in while everything faded to black.
When Jack woke up again, dawn had broken and illuminated the land outside his prison bars. The ground was soaking wet, like a sponge immersed in water past its capacity. Puddles lay strewn about, reflecting the gloomy clouds in the ashen sky. The very air had a certain static spark to it, like he had frizzed out and released something into the world which he shouldn't have. He was dazed, just staring blankly ahead. He had barely even realised that his wrists were still bound above his head. Then he remembered why he was in here in the first place. His lips felt sticky and a strong iron taste stung in his mouth. Thoughts of last night yielded no clear chronology of what happened. All he knew was a fatigue begging him to abide gravity and a strange sense of invasion throughout his body. It came back to him in brief flashbacks. Every time he saw glimpses of it in his mind, he immediately shut his eyes and clenched his teeth. A deep breath later, he was blank again. Like this, the cycle continued. Eventually, he managed to tame his psyche and remain a detached other in his own body.
It was nightfall again when Cezar returned. "Ready for round two?" he grabbed Jack by the throat.
"Are you gonna make me feel something this time?" Jack taunted, staring his aggressor straight in the eye.
Cezar's grip tightened. "I know you're a tough one. I like that about you. You're not spoilt like the other archangels," he said factually. "But don't you worry. I promise not to give up on you."
He knelt down so he could be at the archangel's eye level. Once again, the Leviathan's slimy life force sank deeply into Jack's essence, just to hear those ivory screams again. It was just as euphoric as the previous night. No part of Jack was left untouched, no matter how hard he tried to squirm away. Those beautiful hazel eyes could bear such trepidation—it awoke something deep inside the Leviathan King. Just like last night, this session too ended with Jack barely conscious. It was like Cezar had meant to leave him just at the precipice of awareness while he completed the cycle of violation with a more physical act of drinking his grace. After everything that had been done to him, Jack found this part to be the easiest to get through.
And so it went for several nights. Sometimes Cezar got creative. He had no shortage of toys to play with. Sometimes the archangel's screams would be so powerful as to send lightning strikes into the ground, causing a fire to erupt. Sometimes the skies would rain his tears, which the beasts were eager to drink up and bathe in. But still, he held on. He would close his eyes, cease his breaths and wipe the slate clean. He just let every thought bounce off of him. This would be over soon. He knew it.
One night, as Cezar got down to task, he noticed something was different. "You're feeling a little cloudier today," he said, while his essence weaved tendrils into Jack.
Like the reverb of an instrument chord, Jack's eyelids fluttered open smoothly. It caught Cezar off-guard, especially considering the battered state the boy was in, not to mention his cries of pain all those other times which forbade any secrets from being kept. "You were right," he soughed in a hollow timbre. "There is nothing between us. Not anymore." Something about him, how he seemed so worn out and invigorated at the same time, just intrigued the Leviathan. "You've been more than inside me. You've seen me. No one's ever done that before."
Cezar shifted closer. Tangerine light sprayed from the torches on the wall, reflecting evenly on both of their bare chests as they remained mere inches apart. In such close proximity, Cezar could practically taste Jack's breath in an incessant triumph over the archangel's boundaries. "Yet you're still an enigma to me," Cezar admitted. "How could one put the most vivid nebulae to shame yet harbour a darkness deeper than any black hole? Your very core is an addictive oasis of carnal vitality and your fingers the needles that sow meaning into the universe. But underneath it all, your very essence is gloom eternal."
The back of his finger traced Jack's cheek, sending tingles along his skin. The archangel's face in turn wove in smooth motion following the caress. "So you see why I don't belong anywhere," Jack told him, gentle as the current in a stream. "I am doomed to be a grain of sand lost on a cosmic shore."
"No, not a grain of sand. A crystal so rare that it could never exist again," Cezar refuted just as softly. His palm gripped Jack's neck to lean closer. "I'd have killed you by now, if you didn't make such a good decoration."
"That's not all, is it?" Jack doubted. "I think you've never had this before. You're a filthy rejection of God who's never come close to anything blessed. You're liking this way more than you should."
"Don't think you'll be spared," Cezar warned. "You'll die when your time is right."
The Leviathan dug into Jack's neck, lips hovering over his skin to inhale the archangel's fresh scent. Cezar's beard was like sandpaper on Jack's skin. "I could show you things, Cezar," Jack offered. He gulped away the iron tinge in his mouth. It was time. "You know I have… experience with your desires."
"So you do," he acknowledged with a crooked grin. With a telepathic pull, he loosened the chains binding the shackles to the wall. Jack's shoulders dropped in relief, allowing blood to finally reach his fingers. The shackles still bound him but he was allowed a modicum of mobility. "A once in a lifetime experience. Show me."
Everything that made Jack himself slipped away like a robe falling to the ground, just lying there until it could be worn again. There were no inhibitions. He invited Cezar onto himself with the most tender of touches. It started with a kiss, but the King's deep breaths indicated that there would be so much more to come. As they indulged in a tango of passion, Jack didn't fight Cezar's aggressive tendencies. Instead, he redirected them into his graceful embraces and strokes. While it seemed like a reactive gesture, only Jack knew the precision of his moves. This was no improvisation—it was a ritual. "(Sister Zandra, I call on you)," Jack whispered in a distant language, amidst puffs of air. Their intertwined essences were a reunion of fire and water, sparkling and sizzling in every move. By the end, they were both moaning and gasping for more. A blinding peak was reached with the archangel's head craned back and the Leviathan's claws sunk into Jack's ribs from sheer force. Once the duet was over, Cezar took a couple breaths to regain himself as Jack looked down from a seated position atop him with pure observation. Out of nowhere, Cezar delivered a tight slap across the archangel's face and nudged him off of his body.
"Dirtiest slut in all of Heaven," he cussed at Jack. "That'll make your mother proud."
The door to the cell shut loudly all the same, but this time, Jack counted down the hours. The spell was casted. He was sat curled up, back against the wall, as he waited. A whole day passed. He thought he heard some new insults being yelled at him from far below by the wandering Leviathans. When the plump moon had come up, in came Cezar again. As Jack had expected, there was a new wistfulness glazed across his face. What Jack didn't expect, however, was Cezar detaching the shackles from their chains, leaving him only in cuffs.
"Get up," Cezar ordered as he yanked the cuffs. He shoved a white cloth to Jack. "Drape yourself."
"What for?" Jack asked weakly. He was denied an answer. Instead, he endured countless winces as the burns and cuts under his feet sprung to consciousness. The cloth offered bare minimum modesty to him as Cezar roughly dragged him through unknown passageways behind his chambers which were completely unmarked and uniform. Somehow, Cezar made some sense of these cave walls as they meandered into the darkness. When they came out of the other side, the same indifferent moon greeted them. Soon enough, they came upon a river extending far away. Its current was a gentle lull, defiant against the boisterous inhabitants of the land.
"Get in the water," Cezar demanded, disrobing and urging Jack to do the same. The archangel hesitantly complied. He went far enough for the water to be at his waist level when they stopped. "It'll be your time soon. To become a spectacle for everyone to see."
"Is that why you're doing this?" Jack wondered as Cezar began rubbing himself down. Seeing that, Jack took a dunk in the water and pushed back his drenched hair. In the pale moonlight, his cheekbones were sharp as ever, lending woe to his eternally youthful face. Every droplet clung to his skin like it just couldn't let go of one like him, reflecting light from him like diamonds bespangled. "And here I thought you were starting to care for me."
"Care for you? You are my prisoner—a mere article of display," Cezar huffed. "But… angels must be kept pristine. The value of my conquest, especially one so… divine, must be obvious to everyone."
"Men only clean things that they like," Jack viewed him curiously, helping himself with the water to scrub off all the grime. That pointed look in his almond-shaped eyes instantly bore through Cezar. "Especially if it's alone in a river under moonlight."
Cezar had a murderous glint in his eye but his lips curved up on one end. "Your pretence of nonchalance is truly impressive. But I've been inside your mind. An archangel never forgets. And you, boy, can't seem to escape dishonour."
"Hm," Jack briefly looked down, palms clasped in each other. "Dishonour doesn't define me, Cezar. It is my strength."
The archangel blinked rapidly and swallowed a hard gulp, unable to get back out of his own mind. So it was certainly a surprise when Cezar pushed Jack's long, flowing hair to his back and got them both kneeling in the water. Electricity in the air tingled on their bodies. While Cezar scrubbed Jack's abdomen and worked his way down, Jack reciprocated by washing off Cezar's chest and shoulders. It became so clear then how gentle one was and how harsh the other was. "My subjects will rejoice to hear how tender you are even as I'm desecrating you," he jeered and pulled Jack onto his lap. "Maybe I'll do it in front of them just so they can see what a helpless dove you are."
Forearms against Cezar's chest, Jack said, "Yes, put your fondness on display. Don't think I haven't noticed how intoxicated you've been lately. Maybe that's why you've refused to serve me up to them. You want me all to yourself." Cezar's grin faded into a scowl. Jack continued as a whisper in his ear, "It could be our secret, you know. I don't imagine your subjects will approve of my enjoyment. Like Julius, you'd have knives raining on you."
"Julius?" Cezar gruffly asked.
A thin smile pulled up on Jack's lips like it had finally broken through a wall. He looked away as if to enjoy the minor confusion he'd caused. "Julius Caesar. Leader of the Romans, that is, until those around him decided he didn't know how to use his power," Jack answered. "History does repeat itself."
"Roman…" Cezar mulled. "Yes… tales of this empire were spoken long ago. The ones who conquered lands and tore down the messiah. God's son, he was called. They stripped away his dignity so remorselessly. It was always so inspiring to me."
"Do you want to follow in their footsteps?" Jack proposed, leaning in closer. "My humiliation is yours, but what about the empire?"
That elicited a raised eyebrow. "Purgatory is already mine, slave," Cezar asserted with a huff. "No one can deny me here, not even that she-wolf who harboured you."
Mention of the backstabber raised a little twitch in Jack's eyebrow. "Think bigger," he probed. "What about Earth?"
Cezar grew eerily silent. "You try to tempt me with empty promises," he pointed out. "It is impossible to leave this realm."
"Is it? I recall Eve walking the Earth not that long ago," Jack said noncommittally.
"The gates were opened so minutely, so briefly," Cezar dismissed. "It can't be done without aid from beyond. Especially a human. Those apes, with their mortal flesh and immortal souls, are the only ones who can traverse both realms."
"If that's all it takes, Cezar, I could grant you an empire beyond your wildest imaginations," Jack offered with a sultry swing to his voice.
"Luckily, you'll be too dead to make a fool of me," the Leviathan swore.
"You've seen my memories. You know I can do this. I'm the only one here who can," Jack explained, increasingly ardent. "If I'm gone, you'll never get another chance." A pause fell between them. "Humans and animals everywhere. Fresh air, fresh water. Blue skies. And more importantly, absolute dominion over it all. Think about it."
"Don't tell me what to think. You're merely clinging onto life," Cezar warned. "Even if I did think about it, you'll be dead as soon as you deliver me across the gate."
"And you'll be helplessly lost," Jack countered. "I know my way around the Earth. I could help you. We have a bond now, Cezar, whether I like it or not. I… can't be without you." His slender fingers stretched onto Cezar's bulky shoulders, pulsing in and out in pace with his own breaths. Jack's eyes glimmered red for a fraction of a second. "(Zandra, cry into his ears)," he whispered the incantation. With this brief signal, a sudden flash of red symbols spread across Cezar's body.
The Leviathan barely noticed, only shutting his eyes tight for a moment. Cezar, in turn, traced down the archangel's back down to his ass and gave it a solid squeeze. "With you as my living slave, I could torment Lucifer without so much as touching him," Cezar reasoned. "And I have been looking for the perfect justice for far too long."
"He's the reason I'm here," Jack agreed. "I hate what he's done to the planet. I wouldn't stand in your way."
"Yes, I definitely saw that in you," Cezar said, expression solemn as he watched the staggering reflection of the moon on the water. Jack intently observed him as if to drill a hole through his skull with just a look.
"What would you tell your people?" Jack wondered. Unknowingly, the seed planted in the Leviathan's head had taken root and with Jack's misdirection, it had blossomed. "If… you decided to accept my offer."
"They will be loyal to me regardless. To gain their confidence, on the other hand…" Cezar prefaced. Some ideas flashed through his mind and lent an unseemly curve to his lips. "You'll be indispensable."
"Just show me the gate and I'll do the rest," Jack assured him.
"You'll do exactly as I say," he ordered. "No diversions. Once the path is secured, Leviathan will rule the Earth once again."
"As you wish," Jack conceded seductively. "I'll even crown you myself."
"I will need a new name for this new beginning—one that's palatable for the humans as I subvert their will," he posited. "In honour of these Romans, what say you 'Cezar Roman'?"
Jack made a face at that name. "That's a little too on-the-nose," he said, eliciting an intrigued frown from the Leviathan.
"Give me a powerful name," Cezar demanded. "I want it to inspire confidence and submission all at once. Something that could penetrate their soul with every utterance, and get them on their knees with just a sound."
Jack rolled his eyes as he took a moderate pause to think it over. "Sounds like a 'Dick'."
"Hm, yes," Cezar considered, ruminating over it. "Dick Roman. Better?"
"Perfect. You'll fit right in," he widened his eyes momentarily.
"When the moon wanes, you will see the gate," Cezar planned. "If you don't behave yourself…"
"I know. Don't be so uptight now," Jack assured him. He ran a fistful of water down the Leviathan's arms until their hands were interlaced. They were still in close proximity, with Jack's thighs encircling Cezar's waist. "It's a lovely night. Despite everything, I appreciate that." Though the wounds on the archangel's body could not lie about his intentions to be amiable, something about the glint in his ethereal irises peeled away rationality. It was the wicked stare that opened the Pandora's box. Unbeknownst to himself, Cezar was drawn deeper into the look, especially when moonlight showered onto Jack a chalky glow that radiated in the water. When the silence was long enough, Jack said, "Is that a fish in the water or are you just excited?"
Cezar's brows deepened into a frown. The more he did so, the more Jack felt a brush against his inner thigh. "I desire… what you did last night," the Leviathan ordered, hesitation punctuating his tone.
In a breathy whisper, Jack purred, "Ask and ye shall receive…"
Rigalia, Some Universe
"Oh, yes," I moaned from the depths of my core. Hands working their way into my shoulders reached every knot and tangle of celestial energy, unravelling it back into its former form. One particular spot was kneaded so well that my wing jerked back ecstatically, finally free to move as it please. "Keep at it, Maliel."
"Are you sure, m'lady?" the angel meekly asked, voice shaky. "Sh-should I c-call a medic?"
"Did I order it?" I tried my best not to frown in this moment of sanctity as I lay face down on the bed.
"N-no, Your Highness."
"Then there's your answer," I said. That silenced her long enough for me to enter a state of relaxation again. Deep breath in, deep breath out. It wasn't that I wanted to stay here forever; a lot of time had just opened up since Lucifer became patient with that anti-Reaper's husk. It was the last ingredient I needed to pry open the gates to the Void. Until I was in possession of it, there wasn't much for me to do here. So naturally, I had the servants draw a bath for me, massage me and serve me drinks. I had to say, this wasn't so bad. After everything I'd been through, I needed this.
As her hands journeyed down my back, my moans of relief only grew stronger. Endless battle had worn me out. I heard a gasp. I thought it was just another moment of shock as the feeble angel discovered yet another scar of mine. But the silence lasted a little longer than that. I felt her delicate fingers lifting up a very particular feather on one of my lower wings. I knew what she'd seen. "It- it's the s-stigmata," she uttered slowly. "The stigmata of the fallen angel. B-but only L-Lucifer has that."
"Okay, you've seen too much," I decided. I sat up immediately. She had the look of someone who had seen death right before their eyes. "Yes, it's true. I am a fallen angel. But is that any reason to discriminate?"
Before she could retract herself and run off, I pounced onto her and grabbed her throat, my sharp manicure sinking into her supple God-given skin. With an inhale from my Dark essence, her grace flowed generously into me against her will. Every ounce of her was mine. When I was done drinking her up, her form dissipated into fragments and disappeared forever. A wave of vitality surged through me in a flash. That was energising, and surprisingly exactly what I needed. I'd been feeling weak ever since I arrived and this was a sweet bonus. I entered the private bath, where a few other angels and cruarchs had rushed about to fill it with water and herbs as I'd requested. They too were ravished. With two necks incapacitated at once, it was a quick job. I released the loudest groan as I sank into the loving embrace of the warm, nourishing bath. This was perfect. Mama deserves this.
Once I'd let the nourishment permeate me, I put the old armour back on. There was a knock on my door. I had expected Michael, but what I saw was far more unexpected. His familiar face—one I hadn't seen in a million years—rooted me to the spot. A remnant of the past was masquerading before me. "Is it a good time, Your Majesty?" he curtsied.
"Yes, um, Zaphiel," I recognised. It felt like my chest was pierced to remember all those years ago when he'd been my apprentice. He was the only one amongst the Nalkam who had taken my side in the Rebellion. He fell with the rest of us but alas, he had perished when Michael and Raphael had come to cruelly rip Lucifer from my arms. It was why Shemsiel and the others had resented me for so long. It was eerie seeing him walking and talking as he did now, even though this wasn't the same angel I had doted on before.
"Archangel Michael wishes for me to get your input on a certain matter," he cordially stated. "It's about Norbrix, the town South of Necropolis. They've been pledging support to the revolution. What should we do about them?"
I shrugged. "Carpet bomb them," I dismissively said.
That took him aback. "Uhm, Michael was under the impression that your suggestion would pertain to converting them to our side. They are a town of capable warriors, neutral to the situation."
"Clearly, they aren't neutral if they're supporting our enemy," I remarked half-heartedly. That look on his face, however, was seriously awaiting my opinion. No hatred, no cynicism.
"They might have been cornered by their less-than-friendly neighbours," Zaphiel guessed, though with enough reservation in his voice. "It leaves a window to present ourselves as their guardians, Your Highness."
"Very well, then," I conceded. "Cut off their essential supplies. Leave them to flounder a while and then send a garrison to secure their loyalty."
Still, he seemed alarmed. "I-if that's what you think is best," he nodded. Admittedly, there was a pleasure to be had in seeing the angel accept my devious suggestions. I did wonder how far I could push it. Curiosity killed the angel. "I'll make the arrangements right away."
Bowing again, he left. An ethereal shimmer evaporated from every surface in the palace even as darkness raged all throughout the skies in this paradox they called a day. I found myself stirring in an absurd nostalgia while sauntering down the open stairways. Somehow I knew where to go. My feet stepped with planned movements even without conscious input. In this daze, I had made it to the perfectly-trimmed garden outside. Cruarchs and angels alike bowed as I passed and greeted me with honourable titles. As I ventured into the outskirts of the garden, where a stunning view of the mountainous terrain beyond lay, the guards kept a distance to give me privacy. Here, I could caress the plump bulbs and leaves with ease.
Thoughts of what lay ahead simmered in my mind. The Keys of Conflict had to be my first priority. With Alpha somewhat out of the way, I could probably find out what the hell happened to the first expedition that went missing. I feared the worst but I would have to face reality myself this time. No doppelgangers, no help. Just me. The thought of being so far from anything I'd ever known was not comforting, but some things had become clearer on this journey. There was a delicate balance governing every pair of universes, even if the underlying blueprints were vastly different. That certainly lent perspective to things. There was a lot that never mattered, and yet, only one whose meaning transcended every space-time continuum: Luc. For some reason, Khaos wanted a very specific being for whom He'd ruined countless lives and annihilated countless universes. Whatever the intention, I swore to destroy His purpose.
"Are you summoning the prime mover of eternity?" a voice startled me out of my thoughts. It was Michael, approaching me with hands clasped behind his back. "Time could decide to speed up just to get you out of that stillness."
"I just needed some peace," I kept my hands hugged to my body.
"I know," he said, standing next to me to share the view of what was beyond. His hand rested against the small of my back. Sensing my stiffness, he retracted. I felt his stare lingering on me from my periphery. "Why are you doing this?"
"This again?" I sighed.
"Yes, again, until you tell me what is going on with you," he remained calm, though I suspected a lot was bubbling underneath the surface. "I tried looking everywhere for you last night. Where were you?"
"Just wandering," I lied. "It's not important."
"I was worried about you. You weren't in your quarters, not in the garden. I have to wonder if you're avoiding me," he worried.
"You're overthinking it."
"You're repulsed by my very touch," he pointed out. I kept my attention fixated in a direction away from him. Even then, a ripples of anguish radiated from him in ultraviolet waves. "I just- I just want to know what I did wrong. Why are you punishing me this way?"
"This isn't about you," I simply said. If Michael continued to be a little princess, I wouldn't be able to keep this charade up for very long. That was concerning. "Michael, this simply isn't the time for your insecurities. You should be preparing for war."
Especially with what your brother plans to throw your way. "Which I have been, unlike you," he pushed the words out from deep within. "This is exactly the time when you should be by my side, strengthening our forces. You should be sending messengers to our allies, requesting soldiers. You should be commanding your subjects. But where were you? Did you even realise that there are missing heads amongst us?"
My eyes widened. What can I say, I'm a stress-eater. "W-what?" I feigned ignorance.
"You really didn't notice? We brought thirty angels with us. I only counted eighteen today. The cruarchs seem a little more sparse than usual too," he reported with insatiable curiosity pulling his face into a frown. "We might be compromised. I'll have to call in reinforcements. Your sisters should be here."
"Wait," I halted him. "Why don't you… let me handle it? I'll see what I can find. We shouldn't worry my sisters needlessly, especially after they decided to trust you with this war."
Some thought crossed his mind as he stared through me. I only breathed when he looked away for once, and solemnly nodded. "Fine. But keep me updated. I worry that malicious forces are trying to thin the protection around you," he cautioned.
I gave him a single cordial nod. God, this gets worse by the minute. Just then, a sign appeared to me. In a tree far behind Michael, a little black crow with beady red eyes had perched atop a branch, just as I had anticipated. It was time.
"Be distant from me as much as you want but I only ask that you stay alert," Michael's voice faded into earshot.
"Of course. I'll be off… doing that," I weakly excused, walking away.
"You're just going to leave like this?" he wondered, befuddled. "I'm not done talking."
"Save it for later, darling. Mysteries await," I dismissed as I briskly left his presence. I couldn't describe the relief of escaping his scrutiny. I quickly made it into the secret passageways with my trusted cloak. In no time, I reached the rendezvous spot in an unoccupied alley on the outskirts of the town.
"Right on time," Lucifer greeted, his immanent light masked under a similar cloak.
"You have news?"
"Just as I thought, the anti-Reaper fell for my trap. It was quite ingenious, actually-"
"Where's the husk?" I interjected impatiently.
"Patience, archangel," he drawled with sly grin. "Always in a bout, are you? Thing is, he needs time to shed his husk. These things can't be rushed."
"Then make it rushed," I demanded with my signature no-nonsense stare. "You're the Devil, aren't you? You don't have inhibitions. Get it done quick."
"It'll be done when it's done," he leaned forward threateningly, as if that could faze me. "Besides, I should hope to take in the sight of you longer."
"The longer you take, the longer it'll be before I can return," I remained firm. "I don't care if you have to tear his skin off yourself. Get me that husk. Pronto. Unless being away from Hell has made you soft."
"I'll assume your unwarranted viciousness is a sign of love," his stern expression eased, though the raised eyebrow was there to stay. "There'd better not be any ethical complaints after this."
"Not unless I see you empty-handed again," I warned. I turned to leave, but he tugged at my wrist.
"There's something I need to ask you," he said. I found a pensive look glazed over him. I knew what every twitch of his face meant, but right then, meaning eluded me. He was hiding something. I gestured him to go on. "Do you remember when I first confessed my love for you all those years ago?"
The hollows of his cheeks undulated with a hard gulp. "Under the blue willow on a mountain of Svarg, in seventh Heaven," I said without batting an eye. This had to be a test. From his unperturbed expression, I supposed my own memory was the right answer. "Always."
What I presumed to be admiration curved his lips up on one end. "Good. What happened afterwards may have burned everything we had to ashes, but that one moment in all of our histories belonged to us and us alone," he cradled my hand in both of his. "I feared I was the only one who protected this echo of time."
"Everything else wouldn't have hurt as much if I didn't, would it?" my own sadness crept up like a tidal wave, washing over every inch of imperfection. In its wake, it left a stinging feeling of emptiness. I needed to be held again.
"It's the only thing that means anything to me anymore," he grew closed in on himself. "How I used to… feel things, how I… wanted to be right." He caressed my palm with his thumb. "When you come back from your mission, I'd like for us to go there again. Declare vows in confidence under that very same tree. Then, we take Michael out of the picture."
"That's more romance than I've had in a while," I teased, all while my eyes grew damp. "Sounds like a plan."
"Really?" he searched for authenticity on my face.
I held his gaze as delicately as I did his trust. "Really."
For a moment, it was like I saw my own lover in him. Of course, this was a doppelganger, but never was he so alike to my own heart's Lightbringer. I had ached to see a look on him like this after the Mark had corrupted him. He hadn't been this Lucifer in forever. One could almost say there was a shred of innocence left in him. What he had back then—this innocence—had purified me of all Darkness and brought us closer together, which was why it was so hard for me to hold it all together now. I pulled myself away from him and left as briskly as I could. Never could my real emotions cloud the farce I'd woven for survival. After that ordeal, I was left weak from my very core. I needed nourishment now.
Back at the palace, I invited more servants into my chambers. My chambers. The absurdity was not lost on me. I come in here, I take her possessions, I eat her subjects, I ruin her marriage. Was I so different from the Leeches that led me to murder Forty-Two? Now the act was more than just physical. I murdered her identity too. I won't let your death be for nothing. I'll put an end to it all, I thought as I licked my lips after the feast I had. Now that I sat against the bed, all satiated, it didn't seem like such a good idea. Michael was already privy to the absences of my victims. No doubt he'd notice again. The harsher allegation, however, was from within. Every life force I'd consumed struck an awful visage of Amara in me. It was all I saw in their eyes as I sucked them dry. It was what I saw when I closed my eyes. I clutched my head tight in my hands just to let it pass. This relentless replay of Mother's smirk left me shaking on the floor. Even knowing She was trapped far away, Her all-consuming, raging smoke storm of a presence devastated my very spirit. Was it that enormous dark orb floating within the spire, right above these chambers? It had to be. It had to go.
Before I could fully realise it, I was locked into an automatic rhythm. I didn't even keep track of how many books from the private library I had strewn all over the floor in the bed chamber. At each turn of the page, Amara's voice taunted me. "All that effort to reject your creator but look at you now—a spitting image of Me."
"I'm not You," I muttered through a clenched jaw.
"Who are you now that your precious Morningstar isn't here? This is who you've always been, Adhya. He's just a constant reminder that you let God enslave you. The moment you're alone, you become Darkness Supreme."
I shut my eyes tightly. A single pearl of a tear plummeted down my cheek. Two hundred thousand years, locked in the Vault, flooded my consciousness all at once. How much rage shook the ocean? How much life was eradicated? I had been in constant agony and I demanded that the whole Earth feed me. That was not what a loving mother would do.
"You hated Me because you hated yourself. You betrayed the only One who could love you truly. The most horrible of betrayals. You embarrass every mother."
"Stop!" I begged, clutching my head.
"When nothing is left, there is always us."
Within the blink of an eye, my vision grew clear. The haze that polluted my mind was no longer there. Instead, something far more sinister became apparent. My hands froze in a casting gesture right above the parchment. On it was a spell for rapidly expanding and contracting cosmic forces, almost like a nuclear fission. From the opened jars and containers, the ingredients were already assembled. The crucible containing the simmering spell was not far. A rigidness doubted my every move. There was no one else here. Just the hair-raising presence of a ghost floating around me. Instinctively, I grabbed a fistful of aster and dropped it into the crucible. It felt like moving someone else's arm. The mixture bubbled with green intensity and when it died down, a single glass-like cube remained. What did I do?
Its energies awaited but a spark to set them off. Now I was left with a dilemma. Instead of dealing with that dilemma, I stowed the cube away in my possession. I hadn't even a clue of how much time had passed. Judging by the rising black star, it was at least one celestial orbit. Michael couldn't see all of this. The books were piled and shoved into the closet, along with the curious jars. This would have to do for now.
I had barely exhaled when a voice interrupted me. "Did a hurricane sweep through this place?"
I spun around. "It's you," I sighed. Lucifer was still taking in the scene around him. It was only then that I realised what a mess there was. The bed was ruffled, furniture was shifted and things were strewn on the floor. "How'd you get in here?"
"I, uh," he stuttered, still rooted to a spot on the balcony. "Climbed?"
"The side of the building?" I wondered.
"It was the only way to get in here without being spotted," he justified, almost defensive. "Though your guards do seem to be a little absent… " he stroked his chin in contemplation. "Yes, I do recall Michael yapping about missing staffers. Not sure about the rest of it."
"How long have you been standing there?" I crossed my arms.
"Standing? Not long. I heard some noise grappling up the wall. Thought you had company. Then I realised I'm just hanging from a ledge like some kind of creep. So I invited myself into your chambers," he recounted. "So, you had an orgy without me or something?"
He pointed at the bed with a look. I cleared my throat with a cough. "Some things are better left unsaid," I answered. "I don't have to tell you that."
"Right…" he sauntered over to a wall-side table, where a vase lay on its side. Even the mirror above it was slightly tilted. I hurried to clear the area as best as I could while he remained unhelpful. "Anyway, I got Crusty to spill his, uh, exterior. It wasn't easy and he couldn't shed all of it because he was too busy crying like a baby. I did have to rip off a good chunk of it so you might get an extra flavour of Anti-Reaper grace."
To my relief, he brandished the jar of an ashy-looking substance and left it on the table. That was it. The last ingredient. "And all you needed was some motivation," I remarked. It just had to be when I was this close to my escape that his snarky figure had to block me. Again with that glint in his eyes and that smug smirk.
"I know this is, technically, goodbye," he said, feet slowly taking him to me. In spite of myself, I backed away. "I just hope I can get some promises from you."
"I've already made you enough promises," I defended, controlling every fibre in me that wanted to backhand him. My back came upon the pillar of the bed. The gap between us was closing. This was dangerous.
"This one will be different," he said. Confidence, the substance of his essence, oozed from every twitch of his muscles and every hollow of his God-sculpted form. His palm encircled my neck but deliberately with a force that consoled against threat. A gasp was caught in my throat, the kind that made me weak in the knees. I fell back, light as a feather, with his strong arms catching me as we tumbled onto the mattress. Now, in close proximity, he was soft as a dove. "The most evil woman you are, heating me up and leaving me without anything to hold on to. I told myself I would finally get the pleasure of having you right in these chambers. Then I thought, why wait?"
Alarms went off in my head. I squeezed out from under him without further thought, pulling myself off the bed. "You want a whore, go buy one," I hissed at him. A dead stillness came upon his face even from the supple creases of the satin. He eyed me, seemingly aloof, but I knew the imaginations in his head would be far more lethal. "I don't know what you think of me, but I'm not in this for some momentary thrill."
"Neither am I," he insisted through clenched teeth. "You're the only thing that means anything to me. Can't you see?"
We were locked in a heated battle of stiff postures when the doors flung open. As if to add dynamite to the fire, the eldest archangel's terror-struck gaze fell upon us. Michael was frozen at the threshold like a statue come to life. At once, the air dropped dead and it felt like time came to a stand-still. Lucifer slowly rose to a seated position, unable to tear his attention away from his brother, who merely glared at him with the highest magnification.
"What are you doing here?" Michael's voice struck the atmosphere like a knell. His sharpened frown was not oblivious to the messiness of the bed, as well as the area in general.
"Uh," Lucifer blinked. "We were discussing… strategy. You know, for the war and stuff."
Michael cautiously approached. "You're not allowed in here," he muttered with a measured fury.
"Really? Then how did I get in?" Lucifer rebutted.
"The guards are missing. Did you do this?" he accused.
"Kill your little soldiers? Please, it'd have been too easy to be enjoyable," Lucifer argued pointedly. "I have standards, you know."
With that determined huff, a tense pause fell among us. Michael finally noticed me then. "And you just… accepted this?" he asked.
"It's not what you think," I fumbled over my words.
"No, of course not. First, you keep me at arm's length and neglect your own duties. Next, my brother is on your bed. I understand everything now," he concluded, ire woven into his every word. "I don't want to doubt you, but what choice have you left me?"
"Hey," Lucifer interjected forcibly. "She can do what she wants."
The way Michael surveyed me then made me tingle with a sense of violation. "You're just going to let him speak for you, then?" Though anger pulled taut his expression, a vivid ache broke through. "I just want to know what's going on, Sophia. Don't make a fool out of me."
"I'm not," I swore. Beyond that, I wasn't sure how to continue. I was speechless. "I wasn't expecting any company, especially with the curious case of my servants."
"Is he troubling you?" Michael asked.
I looked once to Lucifer. He exhibited a delicateness then, the kind a wounded animal radiated to invoke sympathy. "I'd rather not say," I crossed my arms. My dilemma as to which of them I should hurt was certainly resolved if it was both of them. But at this point, it wouldn't matter anymore. I had what I needed. The difficulty, however, was extracting myself from this volatile situation.
Michael had the civility to avert his gaze but Lucifer wasn't one to hide being offended. "You know what, I'm tired of being your punching bag, Mike," he asserted. He shot up to his feet in no time. In that quick tussle, a shiny metal object fell out of the bed's crease. Whatever he wanted to say, it seemed to melt away as the two archangels grew interested in what appeared to be a gold wrist cuff. "Well, what's this?"
Lucifer held it up for inspection. "The cruarch maidservants wear that," Michael swiftly recognised.
"How'd that get there?" I chimed in, knowing full well it was my own fault for not disposing of the evidence.
"You said they went missing?" Lucifer added as he rotated the item to observe all its sides. "Did it happen here?"
"How could that be?" Michael asked in turn. "Sophia's been here all day."
"I have," I quickly answered even as Lucifer shot a look at me. "I didn't notice that."
"Wait, something's happened here. I can feel it," Michael payed close attention to the ambience. "Things are… not in their place."
"Fellas, why don't I bring us something refreshing so we can discuss this calmly?" I proposed. There seemed to be no resistance from them, save a passing remark from Michael.
"Calmly with Lucifer—that's new for you," he said as I went over to a side table to get some glasses. "You've changed since coming back from the Void, you know that?"
"She doesn't have to explain anything to you," Lucifer disputed. "Maybe she wants different things. It's not for you to decide."
"Oh yeah, and what's that supposed to mean?" Michael squared his shoulders. I rolled my eyes. Males. I discreetly pocketed the jar of Anti-Reaper's husk, but in doing so, I noticed a book fallen over.
"I won't go any further, for Sophia's sake," Lucifer countered. I reached down to restore the book to its spot. A simple move, really, until the book began to singe in my hands. I immediately dropped it with a controlled gasp. Lucifer and Michael snapped to attention.
Michael reached a palm out and summoned it to his grasp. "It's a Bible," he identified, brows knotting at the sight of embers tracing where my hand had gripped it. He and Lucifer exchanged the same uncanny look of wide-eyed shock before slowly craning their heads to me. My gut dropped.
Lucifer placed his hand on the same book. It practically caught fire at his touch. "What in Hell's name?" he stuttered. "How is this possible?"
"That's… never happened before," I fibbed.
"You're fallen from grace," Lucifer realised, mouth agape as he stared at me. "That's impossible."
An unknown flurry of thoughts circulated within Michael's solid exterior. From the dance of his eyebrows, ages of memories appeared to coalesce behind his eyes. "No, it's not," Michael said. Every sense of caution depended on what he would decide next. Every passing second was a new eon. "The Commander was fallen."
The intense examination of a thousand beings was condensed into his single glare. I dared not to move or speak.
"Commander? Who's that?" Lucifer looked to his brother for clarity.
"The leader of the rebellion in the Void. Sophia's avatar from another universe," Michael explained, eerily moving just his lips to talk.
"What, like a doppelganger?" Lucifer probed. "She met one?"
"There were many. They were fighting a deadly war," he recounted with unbridled accuracy. "The Commander is her closest ally, her most similar manifestation. Except she was the Queen of Hell."
"Yes, she was," I agreed. "Could her curse have spread to me?" This was unsustainable. "I'm sure I saw something of that nature in one of my journals earlier, if I could just find it."
I hobbled cautiously towards the back rooms. "Wait," Lucifer interjected. "When I asked you about the blue willow earlier, you said we could go back to the same tree and declare our vows."
"She what?" Michael sharply interrupted, but this was ignored by Lucifer.
"I thought you were just making a mistake," now the Devil developed a scowl. "I incinerated the willow the moment you and Michael tied the knot. That never happened in the other universe, did it?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," I summoned my deepest sorrows to dampen my eyes. "I meant what I said, Lucifer. You have to believe me."
Lucifer twitched uncomfortably as I held his attention without diversion. He even shifted towards me in what could have been consolation but Michael put a hand to his chest.
"Liar," Michael insisted, jaw tight. "You're not our Sophia."
I kept my sights on the weaker-willed one. He, in turn, breathed shallow, winter breaths. I tilted my head and contorted my eyes some more. The hope of a thousand lives seemed to shatter right beneath his rigid front. The raging avalanche within him was painfully obvious. "Something about you was off from Day One, and it wasn't just how hot you became," he decided. His flaming iron irises centred on me. "You played me."
"She played both of us," Michael added with a booming voice. "Tell us where our Sophia is, you Devil."
The likelihood of confrontation had skyrocketed. It was time for a quick exit. I dropped all emotion. "In the Void," I said. At least it was partially true. Insofar as The Empty was also in the Void. "I never wanted to be here. It was an accident."
Now that I'd confirmed it, a distinct indignation washed over the both of them. I could see their wings beginning to flare up behind them as they grew tense. "Then why did you lie to us?" Lucifer demanded to know, slowly advancing towards me. "Why try to take her place?"
I backed away slowly. This was getting too claustrophobic for my liking. Michael's sudden glower did not help. "Something's happened to her, hasn't it?" he deduced. "She's not stopping you from tarnishing her reputation." He blinked rapidly as if to valiantly slay his bubbling emotions. "Because she can't."
"What did you do to her?" Lucifer yelled. Between the both of them, the forces of Light multiplied in the room, making for a deadly mixture. "Was it what you did to the servants?"
"Oh come on, from one Devil to another—are you really going to blame me for every evil you think of?" I hissed at him. "You were a little too eager to steal her from her husband, who she chose to marry."
"Enough! Your actions have cost us way too much," Michael asserted gruffly. "Innocent or not, you will pay. We will get the truth out of you."
Just as they made towards me, the mysterious cube from my earlier cooking manifested in my palm. I shattered it onto the ground at once, releasing the spell. A deafening boom resounded and then, rubble flew everywhere. All three of us ducked to avoid the shower of debris. Now I knew what my unconscious spell work had done. The dark orb sitting within the spire was wiped out in a grand implosion, sending a devastating shockwave to distances yet unknown. Everything around us was rapidly fragmenting. This was my chance. I ran into the secret stairwell, racing down faster than the cracks could spread. The wide opening within the looping stairs gave me enough leeway to simply jump down. I used my wings to soften any impact.
"She means to return to the Void!" I heard a distant yell. Lucifer, you snitch.
I landed on my feet with barely any noise. For one second, it was absolute silence. The next, a whirlwind force shot at me from above as Michael had his killer target set on me. I had barely dodged with a mere momentary lapse of balance as I pushed through the door into the palace. Guards were stood to attention as they noticed me.
"She's an imposter!" he yelled as he followed me out. "Get her!"
"He's gone mad!" I shouted in turn. The guards stood, dazed, deciding between conflicting accounts. "I am your Archon. Seize him!"
"Oh yeah? What's his name?" Michael pointed to one of the guards, who was wearing a slightly different armour compared to the others. A higher-ranking official no doubt. In this close proximity with dozens of the cruarchs around, it was no time to flounder. The official in question looked to me in question. It didn't take long for my hesitation to be an answer. "General Ishro, apprehend this criminal!"
Now they all turned to me in combative stances, unsheathing their swords. They were everywhere. Not a single thought or emotion trespassed my consciousness. I stomped one foot onto the ground and released an ultrasonic scream from my core, blasting every ounce of power I could summon. The cruarchs fell back ceremoniously and in that scuffle, Michael was knocked back and trapped amidst them. That wouldn't last very long. I quickly dashed into a hallway I believed would allow me to detour into the lower levels. Sure enough, the stampede of armed warriors fled in the opposite direction while I safely ventured towards the back of the palace.
The back entrance led me out through the hound enclosure to the posterior garden. As expected, the guards had rushed off to the front to see what the commotion was about. The path Michael and I took to arrive in Rigalia seemed clear. I made towards the landing strip with no time to lose. Just then, something whizzed past my head and struck the tree bark at my side. To the right, I saw Lucifer aiming another arrow at me. Even from this distance, his ire was crystal clear.
"You played me like a fiddle," he hissed as the crisp end of the arrow trained on me. "Must have had a lot of practice being a temptress. I bet you've never been up to any good."
"You sound intrigued," I remarked dryly. He moved slowly to my front, holding steady his weapon.
"You pretended to be the woman I loved," his bowstring grew more taut.
"It's not my fault you couldn't recognise your beloved," I defended. A stiff breath was caught in his throat. In the gloomy lighting, every twitch of anger in his luminescent being was crystal clear. The black stars in the sky twinkled, emitting ambient drones of hunger. This would be the last time I would face the manifestation of my heart's thief, even if it was just an image and not the real deal. The very thought formed a pit in my abdomen. "In a strange way, I get it. When you've been starved of love for so long, deprived of the very thing that kept you going through Hell, you'll take anything in its place. Just to feel again what you once had. I suppose I should thank you for that."
His grip faltered for a mere second, but he blinked away the dampness in his eyes and remained determined. "You're good. I'll give you that. But I won't fall for your lies any longer," he said, taking a step toward me.
"It wasn't all lies," I held his gaze longingly. "I hope you get the destruction you wanted. It'll be so beautiful. You deserve it. In another life, I would happily have joined you."
The tension on the bow did not ease. In a split second, his eyes narrowed further. As I watched, rooted to the ground, there was a slight twist in his shoulders before he let loose. I flinched. A groan erupted behind me. I turned to see the angel Zaphiel, lying dead on the ground as the arrow struck his chest. It was like déjà vu. "I believe you," he muttered, expression unchanging. "My Sophia is dead, isn't she?"
I swallowed a hard gulp. "Look-"
"Save it," his shoulders dropped with heavy breaths. He appeared then like a shattered picture, never to be put back whole again. He sniffled and bore a frown that pondered the greatest injustice he'd ever known.
"I'm sorry for your loss," I said sincerely.
"I didn't lose anything," he shook his head, voice withering. "She was never going to look at me again. At least Michael will suffer for his betrayal."
He lowered his bow and stepped aside. Hesitantly, I took a step, then another, and another. He didn't stop me. I gave him a knowing nod.
"This isn't the end of us," he called out from behind me. "Michael isn't going to stop. He'll find you. Wherever you go. And I'll be right next to him."
"Try your best," I said my last piece. My wings extended and carried me across the cosmos. Soon enough, I was back at the grey desert scape near the border of the universes. The 'white hole' angrily spat out bolts of lightning, some striking random spots around me. There was but the steady crunch of gravel under my every step. The winds were so hostile that flying wasn't an option, unless I wanted to be thrashed about. This, of course, was 'off the road' from the rainbow highway, so I supposed the same luxuries that made that a viable path were lacking here. Soon enough, I came upon the Veil separating the universes. It was a flimsy black blanket towering far above, wavering about with webbed streaks of energy spreading about.
I assembled the ingredients together in a depression I'd dug in the ground. Summoning the atmosphere in my fist as I recited the spell, I bid the chaotic lightning to strike down upon the items. The explosion tore open a rift in the Veil with a mighty blow. This was it. No more celestial existence. Just Void awaited me. The rift wasn't stable for very long. As soon as I stepped in, it sealed itself close behind me.
