Full Summary: Fallen angels weren't fit to be heroes. Most were self-centered, petty, and power-hungry; Twilus was no exception. However, his quest for power will lead him to an encounter with a strange exorcist, one that will leave him questioning everything he's believed and will set him on the path to forging his own identity. The road to heroism is long and winding though, laid with the sweetest of triumphs and the most bitter of tragedies…


Genesis Arc Ch 1: To be Strong

If there was one thing Twilus had learned growing up, it was that power was everything. It was the powerful who decided the rules that governed the rest of them. It was the powerful who earned the fear of their enemies and the respect of their allies. It was the powerful who mattered in this world.

Twilus wanted to be powerful, but sadly, power didn't come naturally to people like him. That was why he'd resorted to measures like these.

Dirt crunched under his boots as he stepped out of the transportation circle and into the cool air of the night. A starry black abyss hung overhead, a stark contrast to the perpetually purple sky of the Underworld. And the Moon. It had risen not too long ago, and only half of it was visible tonight. A half-moon, he was pretty sure the humans called it. You'd think that after several months of sneaking into the human realm, he'd have gotten used to seeing it by now, but the large chalky orb always managed to make him feel uneasy. A reminder that he shouldn't be out here. Ironic, since it was also what had brought him here in the first place.

He quickly made his way through the forest, approaching his destination. Every few seconds he'd scan his surroundings, making sure he hadn't been followed. Other than the gentle breeze blowing through the trees and the chirping of insects, it was quiet. And his magic sense hadn't picked up any auras either. He was completely alone… probably.

His destination wasn't too far from a fallen outpost, so the chances of stray devils or other creatures hiding out in these woods were small—not that he was scared of some lowly strays. Not one bit.

Twilus' real worry was the possibility of being caught by another fallen. He was too young to be wandering the human realm on his own yet, especially at night. If he was caught… well, he wouldn't be in that much trouble. Fallen angels broke the rules all the time— it was in their nature— and the crime of sneaking into the human world unsupervised was relatively tame, all things considered. As long as he didn't do anything drastic like expose himself to a human, his punishment wouldn't be too severe.

Probably yelling. Lots of yelling, as well as being told how stupid he'd been. That he could deal with. However, they'd eventually start questioning why he'd been sneaking out in the first place. If he wasn't able to lie his way out, they'd eventually find out the real reason, laugh at him, and then assign someone to watch over him for a while so he wouldn't do it again. And that he couldn't afford. Not when he was so close.

Finally reaching his destination, Twilus stepped into a large clearing. The ground here was charred and littered with small craters and a few patches of grass that had avoided being burned away by lightspears. Nearby trees were similarly burned and broken. There wasn't anything special about this particular clearing, but it served its purpose, and in the end that was all that mattered to him.

He surveyed his surroundings one last time. After confirming— as well as he could, anyway— that he was truly alone, he concentrated and began to set up a barrier. While light magic came naturally to angels, other types of magic, including barrier spells, needed a bit more thought and effort put into them, which was why lots of fallen often relied solely on their light weapons in combat. Not that he could blame them. It wasn't until he'd started his little nightly trips that he began to appreciate the value in branching out his skills.

He ran through the magic calculations in his head, pulling power from his magic core as a bright purple magic circle formed under him, expanding out to cover the clearing and some of the nearby forest. Several factors went into the spell: the size and strength of the barrier, how long it would last, as well as what those outside it would see and hear if they came across it. That last one had never been tested before, and hopefully, it never would.

The sky shimmered above as the magic circle faded, signaling the creation of the barrier. To outsiders, the clearing would look completely empty, and any noise created by Twilus' actions would be muted. The spell would also alert him if anything happened to cross the barrier. At least, he hoped so. In reality, any magic user more experienced than himself could easily slip by undetected.

Which was potentially a lot of people. Twilus was still just a low-level angel, after all. Luckily, the nearby outpost was relatively small and rarely had anyone patrolling the area. It was why he'd chosen to set up his little clearing near it in the first place.

"All right," he said, nodding to himself. "Let's do this."

Focusing, he reached inside himself, searching for that familiar pit of warmth in his stomach. He tugged at it, directing the warmth to spread throughout his body. Power seeped through his torso and began to pool in his back. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the energy out, which manifested as two majestic black wings. Just a single pair, but if everything went according to plan, that would be changing in the near future.

He continued the process, guiding energy down his arm, where it collected in his palm, forming a bright purple sphere. Unholy light— the corrupted and inferior version of a pure angel's light. Unlike devils, who had completely lost connection to their light when they'd been banished from Heaven, the Fallen had managed to retain some of their holiness, but it had been weakened. Tainted.

That's what the other fallen said anyways. Twilus himself was a second-generation fallen, meaning he hadn't been created by God but had been birthed by two fallen parents, black wings and all.

The sphere of light flattened and stretched out at the sides, taking the form of a shaft, with one side ending in a sharp point. A lightspear.

With a weapon in hand, he could finally begin.

He gripped the shaft of his spear with both hands, and with a powerful beat of his wings, took off into the air, where he began to go through a series of basic spear drills. The weapon was practically weightless in his hand, as most light constructs were, so he was able to weave through the motions at a quick pace. The display wasn't actually anything too impressive, as it was just some beginner forms, but it was what he was familiar with. The Academy was only meant to teach students enough to prepare them to carry out basic missions for the Grigori. Any other skills he'd have to learn on the job or find someone willing to mentor him. For an orphan without any holy abilities like him, the latter wasn't likely to happen.

Not unless he had something to show for himself. Something that made him stand out, gave him an edge over the competition. Something like obtaining his second pair of wings, maybe?

To angels, wings were the ultimate symbols of status, representing power and experience. It took constant struggle and effort to unlock a new pair, and each one was harder to gain than the last. Even Lord Azazel, who had six pairs, had taken centuries to reach that level.

That being said, if Twilus somehow managed to unlock his second pair, that would make him the youngest fallen to ever do so. With a feat like that, he was bound to find someone willing to teach him. Maybe… maybe he'd even catch the attention of a Cadre?

He snorted, dismissing the thought. Yeah right. He may have been ambitious, but he wasn't delusional. That was fine, though. Twilus was no stranger to handling everything on his own. He would get strong all on his own. He didn't need anyone's help.

He continued through the spear drills, flaring out his wings and launching a dozen knife-like feathers through the air, tearing through whatever they hit. To finish up, he took aim, then hurled his lightspear downward, piercing the ground. The light weapon buzzed faintly for some time before fizzling away.

Almost twenty seconds, he noted, nodding in satisfaction. A new record. Unless you willed them to, light constructs didn't last too long when separated from the user, especially during nighttime. But by timing how long they took to fade, you could gauge the general strength of your light. When he had first started, all those months ago, his spear hadn't even lasted five seconds before breaking apart.

He looked up, peering past the barrier and toward the dark sky above. Unlike devils, who dominated the night, angels flourished in the day, empowered by the light of the Sun. Without it, his angelic abilities would be severely weakened. And yet, that was exactly the point. He figured that if he could strengthen his light at night, without relying on sunlight as a crutch, then it would only be that much more powerful during the day when he would be at his peak. And hopefully, it would be enough to get him those wings.

He summoned a replacement spear and began another set of drills, quickly falling into a pattern. He'd make a spear, go through some drills, accompanied by the occasional flurry of feathers, then toss his weapon, keeping track of how long it lasted each time. Rinse and repeat.

A new record wasn't the only sign of his progress. He was now able to create lightspears much more efficiently, his overall stamina had improved, and he no longer felt as fatigued without the Sun to back him up.

Sometime later, Twilus drifted back down to the ground, out of breath. His spears were lasting longer too, though none had surpassed twenty seconds. The field had been littered with scorch marks and leftover feathers— those, like his lightspears, would wither and disappear on their own soon enough.

A feeling of pride swelled within him as he admired his handiwork, but he quickly snuffed it out. While good for his age, to an older fallen, what Twilus had just accomplished would look pathetic. He couldn't stop here. If he really wanted to rise through the ranks, he had to keep going.

Summoning another ball of light, he decided to continue with something he'd been working on his last few sessions. Instead of forming the orb into another spear, he willed it to float off of his palm and hover away from him. Normally, he was content to let his light constructs burn through their leftover energy and fade away when he was done with them. But, with some careful manipulation, it was possible to release all that remaining energy at once in a blinding burst of power. The technique, while common among older fallen, was still considered a bit more advanced for rookies like him, and had yet to be properly taught at the academy.

Too bad he'd snatched a book on advanced light techniques from one of the Grigori's libraries.

Closing his eyes, he focused, sensing the ball of light without looking at it. Breathing in, he pulled at the pent-up energy within, willing the orb to detonate. It began to shake in the air. He grit his teeth as the orb's power strained against his mental bond. Its shaking became more erratic, and it began to sputter violently before his bond broke and the orb fizzled away.

Twilus let out a sigh of disappointment. Even in his previous sessions, he hadn't been able to get past this step. Manipulating his light without touching it directly still gave him trouble.

He tried again, this time pouring a little less power into the orb hoping that would make it easier to control. Once again, the orb hissed violently before eventually dissipating, though this time it had started to release small flashes of light.

Again. The next attempt died off just as quickly. This time, he hadn't fed enough power into the orb to keep it alive. He was starting to tire too. The longer the night went on the more it would wear on his energy. He'd have to wrap this up soon.

Again. This one died with a whimper. It had lasted longer than the others, but once again he couldn't get it to detonate. Eventually, his frustration got the better of him, breaking his concentration and his bond shortly after.

"Damn it!" It was just one stupid technique, one that wasn't even much more advanced than what he was already familiar with. So then why? Why couldn't he get it to work?

Insecurity began to creep in. Was he just not good enough? Had all of this been a waste of time? Was… Was what Sephrin and the others said about him true? That he would never amount to anything. That he would always be a nobody, just another face in the crowd, not worth giving a second thought to. After all, if he couldn't perform one simple technique, then what hope did he have of accomplishing anything of worth in the future?

No. Whipping out an arm, he filtered his remaining unholy light into his hand.

He had made progress here. He had gotten stronger. So why not keep going? After all, if he gave up at every little bump in the road, wouldn't that just prove them right about him?

This orb was the largest one yet, and his last shot. Twilus struggled, his mental bond straining, but he refused to give.

No one really expected anything from him. Like other low-class fallen, it was assumed he would live his life following orders from his betters. If he didn't end up dying in some pointless skirmish, maybe he would get lucky and become an instructor or a squad leader. Respectable, but nothing exceptional.

The orb grew more unstable, crackling as wisps of light broke off, but it held.

He wanted to prove them wrong. No, he was going to prove them wrong. He would get his wings. He would make something of himself. He would leave his mark on this world. He would—

Something gave, and Twilus suddenly found himself blown off his feet by a blinding blast of light, dust, and wind. On instinct, his wings unfurled and wrapped around him to shield him from potential debris. As the dust cleared, he settled back down to the ground and surveyed the damage. A large plume of smoke rose up from the ground, and through it, he could make out a massive scorch mark on the ground, bigger than any he'd caused before. It was only then that he noticed how hot the air had turned.

Did… Did I just do that?

Twilus began to chuckle, before collapsing to the ground as his chuckling evolved into full-blown laughter. Even though he was dirty and utterly exhausted, he didn't care. Despite his self-doubt and frustration, he had done it! In the long run, one technique probably wouldn't mean much, but right now, it was proof. Proof to himself that he had what it took. Now, he just had to prove it to everyone else.

Raising a fist against the moonlit sky, Twilus made a silent vow to himself. He would make it to the absolute top of this world, no matter what he had to do.


And that's a wrap! This story idea has been taking up space in my head for so long and it's great to finally have the first installment out. For those of you reading this, I just wanna say thanks for giving this a chance and I hope you all will stick around.

Thought this up after noticing the complete lack of Fallen representation in the fandom, with Devils hogging most of the spotlight. There are a few exorcist-based fics here and there, but I haven't really seen anything for the Fallen. Aside from Azazel and Baraqiel, the Fallen typically only get to serve as antagonists. I wanted to write something that went against the grain, and so, Twilus was born.

Guardian Angel will use DxD's lore as a base, but there will be additions and minor tweaks in order to make the worldbuilding feel more organic, such as the addition of unholy light to differentiate the Fallen from pure angels a bit more.

Also, while there will be new characters, plotlines, and villains, this story isn't going to be a bunch of OCs running around completely disconnected from the main plot. First off, other than Twilus, I don't plan on introducing too many new characters, at least not ones that will be key players. Most new characters will mostly be there to fulfill minor supporting roles and fill out the world. There will be a few with major roles, but I much prefer using established characters in new and exciting ways before creating new ones. Also, I plan for Twilus to become very involved in canon. His presence will heavily shake things up and certain arcs will have completely different outcomes as a result. Though, it will be quite a while before we reach that point so I ask you to be patient.

This first chapter serves as a short introduction of sorts, meant to give the audience some alone time with Twilus and lay out some of his motivations before I start bringing in more characters. Future chapters will be a lot longer.

As for the arc name, given the significance of Christianity to this fandom and how this early portion of the story essentially serves as an origin story of sorts for Twilus, it seemed fitting.

Finally, this is my first story and I'm always looking to improve as a writer so tips and criticisms are highly appreciated. Until next time!