It was a crazy idea, that much I'll admit. But 'crazy' was what had gotten us this far.

I guess we were always like this. My friends and I… Living a gambler's life. Entering each battle with reckless abandonment. As if each breath would be our last. And we wouldn't throw it away.

No. We wouldn't waste it.

That's what had always set us apart from the warlords. We were too idealistic. Too much like kids playing the hero. And though I've matured some these past twelve years, there's a part of me that has never really grown up. A naïve, stubborn side that still believes in valor and principle, honor and happy endings.

That's why I can still believe in an impossible dream. That's why I can throw my heart into this hopeless gamble for that slim chance that everything will turn out alright in the end.

…I'm really not that strong. Though a Ronin, I'm still only human. It's amazing what kind of fronts I'll put up to save face, even to myself…

I'm not that strong.

I'm still only human.

But I'll carry out his plan.

I'll put all my energy into it until I can't breathe any longer…

~~~~~~

Sabel

Chapter 1: Heralds of God

By Little Ucchan

~~~~~~

It was mid evening by the time he arrived at the nearest Dynasty gates, though it was hard to tell time in a city no longer within the sun's reach.

Sage dropped down to the street level and approached the skyscraper-high gateway to the Nether realm, remembering a time long ago when he had approached these same gates. It still held that menacing sense of foreboding, the final barrier between himself and the dangers to come.

Sage willed away his sub armor, both his and Cale's armor orbs now resting in his open palm. For a moment, he hesitated, staring into the depths of each orb to see the characters of 'wisdom' and 'obedience' flash in front of him. And with it came the memories of the last twelve years.

The swarms of demons. The 'Heralds of God.' The battles. The destruction. And the deaths. The deaths of everyone he'd ever loved and cared for. Ryo… Cye… Sekhmet… Dais—He stopped the list there. Again his memories tried to throw him into an endless well of despondency and again he forced it down into the depths of his soul. This wasn't the time to reminisce.

Taking a deep breath, Sage closed his hand around the orbs and looked up towards the heavens. "Kayura," he said. "If this doesn't work… you're the first person I'm going to see when I enter the afterlife."

He smirked, content that if she had heard him she'd be sputtering indignantly at the threat.

With that thought in mind, Sage closed his eyes and concentrated.

"Power of nine that binds my soul to thee… Take me back to the place where this all began."

He touched the gate with his free hand. Felt the power of the ancient's staff. And the next thing he knew, he was within the Nether realm standing in the middle of Talpa's throne room, right where Kayura had said he'd be transported.

Sage pocketed the armor orbs and cast a quick glance around the room. Empty. The only movement came from the ethereal flames that forever burned on either side of the Demon Emperor's throne. Other than that, the world was silent.

With swift, long strides, he cleared the distance between himself and the throne, working as quickly as he dared. Circling around the back of the throne, Sage positioned himself near the base of the large, metal-laden seat, and with his weight fully pressed against the backrest, pushed forward.

The throne didn't give way for a few taunt seconds, but then the metal began to creek against the polished wooden floor, and within the minute he began his task, the throne neared the edge of the platform it was perched upon.

Sage dusted his hands against one another, crouching down near the area the throne had previously concealed. The wood was pale, more worn than the rest. He tapped the floorboards with his knuckles. It rang hollow underneath.

He had time for a quick smirk before he took in breath and drove his fist through the floorboards. The wood easily broke away, pieces of splintered wood falling down a narrow shaft.

Sage whistled, rubbing his knuckles as he stared down the length of the shaft, only able to estimate the distance 30 feet down before darkness swallowed the rest of it. He worked at pulling away more boards till the hole was sizeable enough for him to drop down, then pulled out a flare from his shoulder bag.

The red baton plummeted down the shaft. 30 feet. 50 feet. 70. 90. He lost it after 100.

Sage cursed under his breath. He couldn't risk the jump without his sub armor or he'd end up breaking his leg on the landing.

He sat himself against the back of the throne, head leaning heavily against the iron surface. If he used his sub armor, they'd know he was there.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Sage resisted the urge to shudder at the presence that suddenly entered the room. Angel.

He never got used to the feel of having a messenger of God at his backside. It was like having Death for a shadow; his skin grew cold whenever he felt them near. Their power rolled over him, tasted him, caressed his soul with the barest of touches. He never needed to see them to know that they were there. Lucky for him, the same couldn't be said about them.

Sage evened out his breath, silently taking in air. There was only one Angel in the throne room. But whether it was Gabriel or not…

He closed his eyes. No. Not Gabriel. This one wasn't as old. A novice. He still had a chance.

His fingers softly reached for the side pocket of his bag, pulling out two metal half-spheres. Each was imbedded with a glass orb, the power stored within it swirling peacefully to itself. Mini detonators created through the unison of magic and technology; one of Rowen's last projects.

He placed one bomb against the back of the throne, the other along the inside wall of the shaft, and without looking back jumped down the hole.

Immediately, he felt the air shift. The movement of godly wings echoed through the chasm, drowning out the roar of air around him. The Angel had felt him move. But he didn't look up.

The bombs went off right above him, rocking the frail construction of the shaft with a deafening bang. He no longer heard the beat of giant wings, only the resonating sound of wood and stone collapsing within itself.

Sage pulled out his orb and transformed into his sub armor, freefalling for another 50 feet till the light from his flare came into view. His armor-clad feet barely touched the gravel floor before he launched himself into the tunnel at the base of the shaft, narrowly avoiding a mesh of wood and rocks from crushing him underneath.

The ground shook from the impact, but Sage didn't slow down nor did he look back to see if the unidentified Angel was buried beneath all that debris or circling above in agitation. He simply didn't have the time.

They knew he was there. He had to use every second he had.

Kicking down the door at the end of the tunnel, Sage barreled into the room, slowly down for a moment of awe.

Nine torches adorned the circular room, each evenly spaced along the walls and positioned over its respective armor orb. Yes, all seven orbs laid hovering in waiting atop their own pedestals made of wood, metal, and stone. A nine pointed star framed within a magical circle carved the floor, connecting each armor to its centerpiece: the Ancient's Staff. It floated above its own pedestal, lower than the rest, barely reaching his midsection.

"So it's all here," he breathed, then shook away his stupor. Time was ticking.

Sage stripped away his sub armor, holding both his and Cale's armor orbs in either hand and placed them on their proper altars. Finally everything was in place.

"What a surprise."

Sage froze. All of his nerves instantly turned to ice the second he heard that voice.

Gabriel.

He carefully fingered the clasp on the underside of his left wrist and slowly turned around. It wouldn't do to make any sudden movements while his back was to an Archangel.

At 6' 1" Gabriel came a few inches above Sage's height and had a more slender build to his frame compared to the Ronin's own. But body mass was an ill measurement tool when comparing a human to the divine.

Hair color was the indication of an Archangel's strength. The paler the color, the more power they held. And Gabriel was as powerful as they could get.

His hair at one point was a rich ebony blue, a tint of its former color only revealing itself in the dimmest of lights. But without it, his hair was stripped of all color, strands so long they brushed against his shins. The only thing keeping the locks neatly in place was a ribbon tied halfway down his back.

Yes, he was one of the strongest; part of the highest order of the divine. And he had been sent down from heaven to kill Sage.

Author's Note:

Okay, one minor note before anyone is allowed the bash in my head. I know I was being unfairly vague on my last author note in RWU so let me explain my situation.

I'm attending an art school, majoring in animation. It's a rather small field compared to being a biology major, for example, so I'm aware that not many people know what it actually means to be an animation major. Granted my curriculum doesn't speak for every school that has this major, let's just assume in this analogy, it does.

Yes, I don't do hardcore studying, and yes I only have four classes a week and I bunch them together into two straight days of work, so yes, I have a five-day weekend every week. BUT, my classes are 4 hours long, I go through 405 traffic to get to school (anyone from LA will know exactly what I mean), and I draw every week. FULL 18 by 24 backgrounds every week. And that's just my structural drawing class. I do digital work in Adobe Illustrator (anyone familiar with the program, raise your hands if you agree coloring mesh grids are a pain in the ass), and design work in my Typography class. (Note: the word 'design' is actually more deadly than anyone realizes. It includes positioning of objects for a composition, size and color relation, using contrast for a focal point, and leading your viewer around the whole piece in one fluid motion without giving them a freakin' headache.) The majority of my time is spent working and perfecting a piece of work for presentation and review, and in my case, I put in extra hours to attend workshops and see my instructors and associates. I have no social life. All of my closest friends are out of state and the two that are within driving distance are extremely busy, as is any college student. My only time to relax is with my family and at school. The rest of my week is spent doing homework and meeting deadlines. I'm forever behind schedule, no matter how well I plan and right now, I have a challenge from my structural drawing teacher to create an exterior background based on Hindu architecture to complete. My deadline's tomorrow and I haven't painted it yet.

I guess my only saving grace is that I love every second of what I do.

Now I don't mean to sound like I'm bitching or that I'm blaming anyone. I'm just a bit frazzled because I've been battling writing and doing my homework on and off for the last five months. I've forsaken homework yesterday and today to get this chapter out, because really, I love doing this too. But I wanted to get the word out to those that read my stuff and notify them of what I do, why I can't write as often, and that I am trying. If only chapters could be written in three hours then I wouldn't be having this problem. ^^;;

But I am ebbing away at my workload. I have been writing half a page on and off and I was finally able to get this chapter out for Sabel. ^^;; Yes, it's short, but I don't plan to go past 6 pages per chapter on this fic. And I know I haven't described how Sage looks yet, but I have that planned for a certain part of the story. ^_^ If you want, there's a character sketch in my diary of Sage. ^^;; He's a cross between Kobayashi and Wufei but I had to do something drastic for a 29 year old.

And that's my spiel for now. How do you guys like Gabriel? ^^;; Yeah, he didn't do anything so I'll save that question for later. =P And please, for people that jump the gun, I'm not bashing religion, just using its mystical properties as the basis for my story. Just like Shintoism or Buddhism, the use of Egyptian or Greek gods and deities, I'm drawing references from the culture and placing a spin on it. I'm not rewriting the doctrine of Christianity.

That being said ::hands Panthera the rubber mallet:: Bash away. ^^;;