Category: Darksiders I & II
Rating: M
Couples: Azrael/Abaddon, Zeruch(War)/OC
Warnings: AU, Disturbing Imagery
Chapter: 66
Copyright: Characters & places © By Appropriate Copyright-holder, Plot & OC´s © by me
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The consternation at the statement of the eldest Rider was not helped by neither Abaddon, nor anyone else countering it. The General merely snarled at the Nephilim, wings curling with his anger. None of the angelic Firstborn – mixed in with the others – did more than watch impassively. None one noticed that the fourth brother had disappeared.
"He is to be delivered to the Charred Council at once, dead or alive." Death struggled to keep his impassive demeanor. He had hoped to spare his little brother this, mostly because he was very well aware what would happen to him.
"I will fetch him." Spreading his wings, Abaddon promptly took to the sky, perhaps wisely deciding that starting battle over this would not be worth it.
Death waited, unmoving. From the corner of his eye he saw Laylah fly up as well, the female Firstborn not gracing him with a glance. He wondered if she blamed him for this mess.
Abaddon returned with Zeruch, the younger male for once not in full armour but rather robes.
"Do I want to know how they found out?" Abaddon's adopted child softly asked when the two touched down.
"Apparently we were followed to the tree by one of the Watchers the Council so cherishes. They recognized your… form." Death lead the way outside. He was somewhat surprised with Abaddon not leaving their side. "You are not required, General."
"He is my son, no matter what your damn owners say." Heaven's great General countered sharply. "Do not think I'll just let them get their filthy hands on him." He followed the Nephilim. "The last word about this has not been spoken yet by any means."
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"Did you think you could hide this from us, Abaddon?" The voice of one of the aspects of the Charred Council boomed in the area. The proud angel was glowering at them, pointedly ignoring the three Horsemen and the demons that had been summoned to witness this judgement.
"He commited no crimes worthy of your condemnation."
"He is a Nephilim." Fire flared at the statement. "They are to die or serve."
"You will not have him!" White wings flared in fury. Despite everything between them, Abaddon would not risk the child he had raised with Azrael. "He is my son and I would kill you all before letting him get taken." The demons chuckled at that, looking forward to seeing their greatest rival get taken down for his pride.
The other three Nephilim were conflicted, torn between their necessary obedience towards the Council they had sworn loyalty to and their youngest brother who had managed to stay free from all that until now.
Zeruch was nearly cowering behind Abaddon, praying to the Creator that even if he had to be condemned they would not get to his children. Samael was grinning at him, looking almost like a playful cat. The young Nephilim wondered how long it would be until the other reminded the Council of their existence. He hoped it would be a nice long while. He did not want his children to have to face this.
"We decreed and the decree will be obeyed!" Fire surged forward, missing Abaddon by the width of a feather. He didn't flinch. He would rather burn in the hellish fires the Council commanded than give them his child, Nephilim though it may be. For all that he had once advocated killing it, he had invested too much to waste it on dead.
"Your decree is worthless if it does not distinguish the innocent!" Heaven's General roared. "He is as good as an angel!"
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Gabriel had been torn between fury and fear when Abaddon came to take her husband to the Charred Council of all places. When Laylah later arrived and informed her that it was because the Charred Council had found out that Zeruch was a Nephilim…
"Please tell me we are going somewhere to help him." The two female angels were flying through the City at full speed. Gabriel looked over to her grandmother-in-law.
"I lost one son, the other is on death's doorstep… They will not have my only grandchild." The older female snarled, aiming for the most central tower of the city. Disregarding protocol, she tore open one of the upper windows, bypassing the miles of hallways one would have to take from the frontdoor.
"Wait, Michael!?" Gabriel staggered in mid-flight. "But..."
"It's either him, or I take the forces I can." The Firstborn nearly smashed down on the ground. "Michael!"
Now rather more hesitant, Metatron's daughter followed slowly, touching down rather more reverently while the other marched up the white ball of feathers.
"Wake up!" Her aunt's voice was decidedly more shrill than usual. It seemed Michael could also tell as much, wings shuddering as he opened them slowly.
"What happened?"