Lucifer knew he had chosen something akin to a side, and it was not his.

He had to hurry. If what he had heard meant what he thought it did, Mother's newest creation was screwed and the garden along with it? He paused. Didn't matter - it would be their new home. Whatever that meant.

Flying through the air as quickly as he could, he felt that it still wasn't enough; even with his three pairs of wings, it was still too slow for him.

The breezes, which usually helped him calm down, seemed to be doing the exact opposite right now. Instead, they were making him feel incredibly paranoid.

Gabriel always says he worries too much about everything.

He could not help but think that it is that paranoia that has kept him alive as he does these "missions."

Speaking of his paranoia - right now it was telling him that someone was following him, tailing him from not so far away. Probably someone Lucifer sent after him - something about that made his heart ache.

The good guy, huh?

He focused on the feeling of the air again and he soared through it. The air did not bother him as he could only feel it mildly on his face. The wind was most prominent on his wings, more specifically, his feathers.

It was nice to feel it, ignoring the trouble that was probably about to happen.

If all is not lost, then where the fuck is it?

….

"Are you here!? Hello?" Raphael looked around, trying to spot anyone lurking. "Michael! I- I am looking for Michael. I know she is here, at this location. She can't have moved that fast so soon."

"What are you doing here? I thought I told you to return to the healing ward and stay there," Micheal reprimanded, revealing herself.

"You did? Sorry, I probably wasn't listening when that bit came up."

Michael sighed, placing her fingers between her nose. "Of course you weren't. What else should I have expected when I said it?"

"Nice to see you too, Michael."

"What did you come here for? Not another message, please, they are as pointless as ever."

Raphael tried to ignore the comment about his 'useless' attempts at peace. "No, I am here because of something I heard Lucifer and one of his followers say! They are going to do something bad to the garden!" Raphael looked at Michael, hoping the urgency in his voice would make her believe him. But sadly, Michael still held little trust in him about these kinds of things. "Please, you have to believe me! I heard them say it-"

"And how, pray tell, did you come across that information?" interrupted Michael, narrowing her eyes.

Did she seriously think he was planning to harm the garden? And the soon-to-come creations that would reside there? The loss of trust between them hurt more than he would let show. He was not the best at hiding emotions (he had always worn his heart on his sleeve) so it was no surprise when he knew his pain showed in his eyes.

If Michael was affected, she was not showing it. She had always been better at hiding her emotions. Lucky her.

It is a good thing to be able to hide one's emotions. You do not have to be afraid of someone using them against you or be afraid that you could accidentally give something away. It is especially good in times like these. But it is as terrible as it is good.

Michael may look cold and standoffish on the outside but she probably wasn't on the inside. Maybe her emotions are screaming to be let out, to be heard. He wouldn't know.

"You know why I may or may not believe you, dear brother?" Michael sneered, grabbing a small dagger she had hidden somewhere on her person.

Raphael's stomach sank at the sight. She twirled the knife in her hand, making him shiver. He really did not want to die by his sibling's hand.

"No, I-"

"Because of this!" she half shouted and half jeered as she threw the dagger right at him.

The dagger flew through the air beside his ear, barely missing him by an inch. He could feel it as it sliced through a strand of his hairy, almost like time had slowed down in that moment.

He ducked, thinking the flying dagger was meant for him. The dagger found its intended target with a sound of metal embedding in flesh and a scream.

Raphael looked up, finding Michael looking at his would-be attacker with silent rage. He wasn't sure if Michael was angry because he was almost attacked or that he somehow led someone to Michael's location.

Did Lucifer send a spy to follow him? He did not understand. He never wanted to be a part of this war, but Raphael supposed he had always been a part of it. Now he might as well act like it and help out.

But he then had to show loyalty to one side, and he still felt like he was betraying all the angels in the healing ward. The ward is supposed to be a safe haven as the war rages on. It would be a mistake to choose now.

No, maybe it would be the right time to do so, show that the war has pushed even him over the edge, and make him do something he will regret.

Let this decision be regret free.

The mysterious angel collapsed onto the ground, shouting loudly, way too loudly for it not to be on purpose.

Michael held not one but two bloody daggers in her hand.

"You brought the traitor here," Michael sneered, holding the bloodied daggers tightly. "Was it an accident or on purpose or on purpose?" She emphasized the last part, betrayal clear in her eyes.

That might as well be the first emotion he has seen on her face for a long time.

"I didn't bring them here!" Raphael protested. "I didn't even know that they were following me."

"Of course you didn't! You never notice anything! You don't even know what is happening in the war, you choose to hide away in the ward, helping the cowards."

Raphael ignored the pain in his heart. "Well, I want to help! I promise, let me do something."

"So you have suddenly decided this?" Michael mocked. "Had a change of heart, did you?" She walked past Raphael, closer to the mortally wounded angel still laying on the ground, a bloodied smirk on their lips, watching them and listening to their conversation.

"Yes, but no, I still want peace."

"So you haven't changed? Just like this traitor." Michael grabbed the pale angel on his bloodied surcoat. The angel looked bitterly back at Michael, the angel's face painted with resentment.

"What? No! I- I want to help-"

"Help? Who do you want to help?" She turned to the bloodied angel in her grip. "Tell me, why did he send you? Did he order you to spy on a fellow archangel, and then kill him when he had his back turned?" Michael's face was right in front of the dying angel. The healer in Raphael was screaming at him to do something, to just heal the dying angel before it would be too late.

The angel spat blood out of his mouth. Some of it dripped onto his chin. The angel laughed at Michael as he spoke. "You are wrong! Lucifer will win. I serve Lucifer because of love, loyalty and the chance of freewill. He has promised us the love God has denied us. He will not turn a blind eye when humanity will fall to the depth you claim us to have fallen."

"God has not turned a blind eye. She created humanity, and now she lets them do things themselves. While it may be limited, they are cherishing their garden. There has to be limits, because without them, they would not do as well as they could," Michael refuted, standing as she wiped the blood away the spy had spat at her.

"You call that freewill?" The angel laughed. "While you adore humanity, we see a door made by humanity." The angel continued darkly, still fighting for their belief. "Humanity will fall, the garden won't be theirs, this is not a place for those mud monkeys. The war will soon be over anyway, so why bother defending yourselves and the humans?" The angel stated, motioning with his hands, and looking at where Raphael was standing frozen.

"Yeah? You really believe that?" Michael looked at the knife in her hand, playing with it over so slowly as it reflected light from the skies, its temptation getting the better of her. "They are stronger than you think."

"Wh-" The spy never got to finish their last sentence - their last words. Before he could, the knife stabbed into the angel's stomach, tearing through skin and muscle with a quiet slicing motion. A dying gurgling sound tore through the angel as he weakly tried to defend himself, but it was too late. Blood had begun flowing up around the knife still embedded in the angel's stomach. The angel didn't move again. His arms had stilled and stopped trying to get the knife out. The angel was dead.

"You want to help?" Michael asked after a moment.

"Yes" Raphael quietly answered. He still wanted to make a difference. He tried not to look at the deceased angel's body. He accidentally turned his head, the turn was enough to show the body. He couldn't look away - it was as if he was paralyzed, trapped, only his eyes weren't stuck, and they wanted to move. The more he looked, the more details he found.

The blood pooling around the body, matching the two light red wings on the angel's back in a twisted display of symmetry. The hands that laid beside the knife, not holding onto anything. The lifeless eyes that greeted him when he looked up from the wound. The ghost of a defiant person.

Raphael wished he hadn't known the angel's name; maybe that would have made it less painful. It didn't matter how many times he told himself that there was nothing he could have done. He made his choice.

"Then go to the garden, if what you say is true and what the spy said is correct. There could be a high chance of an attack happening there. Go and guard it with your life," Michael ordered. Raphael looked hesitant and frightened as he looked at her. She ignored him. Does she even believe him? "Go! You wanted to help? Then go."

He spread his wings, feeling his body wasn't paralyzed anymore. He flew towards the garden.

Michael looked at Raphael as he left, watching until he became a small dot just above the horizon.

She turned towards the body laying on the ground. She kneeled down and silently closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry it went this far."