The AGM-114L, or Longbow Hellfire, is a fire-and-forget weapon: equipped with a millimeter wave (MMW) radar seeker, it requires no further guidance after launch—even being able to lock-on to its target after launch—and can hit its target without the launcher or other friendly unit being in line of sight of the target.

It also works in adverse weather and battlefield obscurants, such as smoke and fog which can mask the position of a target or prevent a designating laser from forming a detectable reflection. Each Hellfire weighs 47 kilograms (104 lb), including the 9 kilograms (20 lb) warhead, and has a range of 8,000 metres (26,000 ft).

None of this, however, mattered to Michael or Gabriel. They could only watch as the drone above them flew off towards Mallory and left them behind to fight off the straggler Hellhounds and demons that hadn't been destroyed in the blast from the bombing.

Uriel hadn't been able to raise Devery on the radio, and when she had been told by Gabriel that they thought Devery was being held captive, she piloted the drone away. Gabriel worried deeply about what his sister had planned, but the current situation demanded his attention far more.

They needed to get to Mallory, but they couldn't have Hellhounds or demons on their tails as they went. Swallowing down his fears he lifted his blade and ran towards the Hellhounds, ready to bloody his swords and hands once again.

He watched from the corner of his eye as Michael slashed at a demon, throwing it to the ground and stabbing it through the heart. He stabbed the hound and wrenched it forcefully aside, slashing at the next that snarled and clawed at him.

By the time the last of their foes had fallen the sand around them was stained a dark bloody red, though it looked almost black under the moonlight. Gabriel's chest heaved with every breath he took and as he sheathed his swords he peered through the darkness warily, waiting for a surprise attack from some hidden foe.

"I believe they are all gone," Michael murmured, stepping beside his brother and sheathing his own sword. He wiped the back of his hand across his cheek and grimaced as it came away bloody, the acid in the demon and Hellhound blood stinging.

Gabriel nodded slowly, "He'll send more," he muttered, turning and spreading his wings. "We should go," he called as he took flight.

Michael quickly took off after him, his wings beating rapidly in the night air.

"Uriel?!"

Devery's voice jolted Gabriel. She sounded harried and frightened and god bless him, hurt.

"Devery! Where are you?!" his sister replied sharply.

Long moments passed in silence and he glanced worriedly over at Michael. His brother shook his head at him and they flew harder.

"Devery!?"

"Uriel…I'm in Mallory. I've got Lucifer here. Do it now," Devery groaned, her voice sounding agonized.

Gabriel's stomach wrenched at how wretched she sounded and he flew harder, trying to get to her.

"Not if you're there!" Uriel replied sharply.

"Just fucking do it!" Devery ordered his sister.

Gabriel couldn't stand it any longer and wrenched his walkie from his waist, "Do what? What are you doing Devery?" he demanded, his heart in his throat.

The silence stretched out and Gabriel felt sick. "Devery! What are you doing?" he demanded.

The minutes slipped away as they flew closer to Mallory and Devery didn't reply. Every second was agony for Gabriel, waiting for her to speak, praying for her to say something.

"Devery, Devery please, what are you doing?" he pled, no longer able to wait for her to respond. He felt sick to his stomach as he clutched the walkie close, his heart pounding with agonized fear.

A moment later the walkie crackled and the sounds of agonized screams rang through the air. Gabriel's wings faltered and he dropped to the ground, his heart racing. Michael landed beside him, his face a mask of horrified worry.

"I'm killing Lucifer," Devery murmured, her voice low and rough.

Gabriel felt like he had been kicked in the stomach. "What are you and Uriel doing dammit?" he demanded, fear making him feel ill.

"Have you heard of a drone? They used to be used by modern military before all of this. They could be equipped with bombs of different magnitude and dropped anywhere around the world," she told him softly, her voice seeming to grow weaker.

Gabriel paced, shaking his head frustratedly, his gut blooming with worry. "What are you talking about Devery?"

"Hellfire missiles," she said softly, "rather an on the nose name, huh," she breathed. "I asked Uriel to find out if Helena had any, considering their massive air force, and lo and behold, they had more than a few."

Horror filled Gabriel as realization dawned in him. He had seen the massive power of the bomb that had dropped from the drone onto their foes, and he could only fear what would happen if his sister dropped one onto Mallory while Devery was still there.

"No. NO!" he shouted, his voice raw with terror, tears threatening in the back of his throat.

"Just one will level an entire block," she sighed, "Or destroy an archangel," she said with a soft laugh.

"Devery, please don't! Please! I'm coming to you, I'll get you out of there, just please don't!" Gabriel pled as he threw himself into the air, tears burning in his eyes as he begged with her not to kill herself.

He flew as hard as he could, not looking over his shoulder to see if Michael was behind him.

"I'm sorry Gabriel…I…" she trailed off for a moment and she sounded so weak and pained that he found it hard to breath, thinking of what she must be going through. "I love you," she whispered.

She was saying goodbye.

He could barely breathe through the agony that gripped him, constricting his chest until he thought he would fall from the sky. "No, Devery, no!" he pled, choking on the words. He flew faster, cresting the hill that separated him from Devery, from saving her, from being lost forever.

"It's too late Gabriel…the missile…it's almost here," she whispered, and he too could hear it. He looked up and saw the missile streaking towards the town lying below, towards Devery.

Panic choked him and he flew faster, trying to get to her. He could, if only his wings could carry him as fast as his heart beat.

The missile streaked faster than his wings and he let out a strained sob, sorrow threatening to drown him. He lifted the walkie, determined to tell Devery the truth just once.

"I love you Dev-"

He was cut off as the missile slammed into the town and an explosion rippled through the buildings, blowing them apart. He dropped out of the sky as though he too had been shot, crumpling into the sand with a sob.

Michael landed gently beside him and knelt, wrapping his arms around his shoulders, holding him as great wrenching sobs tore through his chest. Gabriel struggled to breathe as agony tore his insides to shreds, tears blinding him.

Michael held onto his brother, trying to contain his own sorrow. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he watched the ruins of the town burn. Devery was gone…and he wasn't sure she was coming back this time.

How could she against the sheer power of a bomb blast?

He closed his eyes and prayed.

Father, if you care at all about your son, you must save her. You must do something. Father, please.

Thunder rumbled overhead and when he looked up he saw dark clouds rolling through the night sky, faster than was natural, blocking out the stars. He watched as they grew deeper and darker until they were mounded overhead in such a mass that he couldn't see for miles and the moon looked as though it had been sucked into an abyss.

Thunder rumbled again and a moment later a steady, warm rain began to fall against their heads, soaking their clothes against their skin in just a few minutes. The rain wiped the tears from Michael's face and soothed the burns on his skin from the acidic demon blood and he sighed softly, knowing it had been sent by their Father.

Gabriel wept inconsolably as the rain fell against his face, his heart breaking. He wanted never to feel like this again. Through blurry eyes he watched what remained of Mallory burn and along with it the only woman he had ever loved.

He struggled slowly to his feet, breaking from Michael's arms with a growling sob, swiping at the rain and tears on his face.

"Brother…" Michael murmured sadly, reaching out a supplicating hand.

Gabriel swatted his hand away with a groan, shaking his head slowly, "Leave…leave Michael," he ordered softly.

"No, I cannot leave you brother," Michael insisted, his tone gentle and heartbroken.

"You've done it before, just do it again!" Gabriel snarled, his eyes burning with anger and sorrow.

Michael stuttered for a moment before deflating, his hand dropping slowly in the air and his eyes shadowing with sorrow. "What's left for you here Gabriel?" he murmured, "She's gone."

Gabriel's eyes widened with rage and he lunged for his brother, his fist flying forward to connect with his jaw as his shoulder dropped to slam into his chest, driving him to the ground with a loud grunt.

Gabriel sobbed as he slammed his fist into Michael's face over and over again, "She's not gone!" he screamed, his voice breaking. As he cried harder he rolled away, burying his face in his hands, mumbling, "She's not gone," over and over again.

Michael rose to his knees, blood trailing from his mouth and nose and swiped at his wounds, watching his brother go through agony. Despite his physical pain and his own sorrow over the loss of Devery, he had no idea how to comfort his brother.

Everything he did seemed to be making it worse.

He sighed deeply and lifted his face to the rain, letting it wash away the blood for a few moments. He turned back to Gabriel and blinked out the rain from his eyes, "Do you really want me to leave?" he asked softly.

Gabriel's tears had slowed and he wiped a hand over his face, taking a deep breath before he managed an answer. "I have nothing in Vega or Helena, Michael. They despise me, and I care nothing for them."

He cut his eyes over his shoulder to his brother, "I will find you if I need you brother," he whispered.

Michael sighed and stood slowly, "And if I need you?" he asked gently.

Gabriel's lips trembled into a ghost of a smile, "You don't," he whispered.

Michael gazed sorrowfully at his brother until the weight between them grew unbearable and he nodded, spreading his wings. "Goodbye then, Gabriel," he murmured.

Gabriel nodded sharply and looked away, turning his gaze back to the slowly dimming flames. He heard the flap of his brother's wings and listened to the rain fall around him, the hissing of the flames as droplets studded into them, and the sound of his own lonely heartbeat.

Hours passed as the rain drummed out the flames and the crater where houses once stood began to fill with water. Gabriel clambered slowly to his feet and walked in an almost drunken line down to the town, his eyes burning with more tears and his limbs aching with grief.

He stumbled through the wreckage, his eyes burning from the smoke as he kicked over pieces of wood and searched through the debris for some sign that Devery might have escaped. Any small hope he might have had died as he continued his search, finding only ash and rubble and more grief.

He walked further to where the foundation of home remained and collapsed down on it, exhaustion overwhelming him. The rain pattered down around him as he stared blankly at the ruins around him, desolation filling him.

He would remain here until he knew for sure she was gone, he decided.

With a faint nod, he went to one of the remaining houses that had been half destroyed and curled beneath the remainder of the roof, pulling his cape tightly around him, listening to the rain patter against the ground.

Squeezing his eyes shut as tears leaked out, he exhaled shakily and waited for sleep to claim him.

Michael sat in the dark of his quarters, silence surrounding him. It had been weeks since he had left Gabriel in the ruins of Mallory, and though he had gone back occasionally to try and make sure he was still alive, after just a trip or two his brother had caught on and disappeared.

Uriel too had tried to find him, and had only been able to find a spot where he had seemed to nest before vanishing.

They were slowly focusing on the running of both cities; increasing trade, growing crops, changing security systems and transforming the cities into more democratic societies. They had had many a discussion about what to do for their brother, but neither of them could find him let alone come up with a solution.

Without Devery it seemed there was nothing to entice Gabriel back to civilization.

He sat on the beach, watching the sea, a bottle of rum in his hand and a searing headache pounding away behind his eyes. He had waited for hours, days, weeks, months…but she hadn't come back.

He had watched as the rain, wind, and snow had wiped away all evidence that Devery had ever existed in Mallory, and his heart had seemed to harden and freeze over. He had spread his wings and left the desert behind, heading to the snowy north for some weeks before he ran out of booze.

He eventually flew south until he spotted a strip of beach he had watched form thousands of years ago and landed, stripping off his armor and cloak and clothing underneath until he was just in his breeches, the sun bronzing his skin to a honeyed nut color.

He had found a crumbling house to sleep in, close to the edge of the beach, and stocked it with alcohol so he never had to stay sober long. Fresh fruit growing on the island and small animals served as his meals; though he hardly remembered to eat he was drunk so often.

He watched as the sun set, the sky a blazing array of magenta, fuchsia, and scarlet that reminded him of the fires within the earth, erupting violently and unexpectedly as the world formed. It had been beautiful to watch, and it was perhaps beautiful now, but he felt flat watching it…as though nothing could touch him.

Sighing heavily, he stood and swayed, his vision doubling and blackening for a moment. When his vision cleared he stumbled down the beach, swaying slightly with each step. He held the bottle loosely in his grip, murmuring softly and incoherently.

It was a habit he had fallen into in the past months, almost without realizing it. He had started drunkenly yelling at Devery, slurring and demanding to know where the hell she was. By now he had fallen into softer words, telling her things he hadn't gotten the chance to, things he thought he'd never get to.

"I…liked you…when I first saw you…" he muttered, smiling crookedly, remembering the way her long black hair had whipped around her face as she had fought like a wildfire—hot and furious.

"You…challenged me…when…no one else…would," he mused, stumbling up the beach as the sun sank below the horizon.

He laughed brokenly, "I hurt you…and you still…gave me chances…" he shook his head, smiling sadly, "I never…deserved you…" he whispered, his voice breaking and his knees weakening.

He collapsed into the sand and wept, drinking from the bottle until he passed out, the waves lapping at his feet.

Michael crossed a leg over the other, rubbing a hand over his face tiredly, "What exactly are you telling me?" he demanded of Uriel.

She sighed and waved a hand towards the computer screen, "I should think it's fairly obvious. This is the shot from the drone just before I fired the missile. I stayed overhead the whole time and captured video the whole time. Watch," she ordered.

She pressed a button and Michael watched as the video of the missile firing towards Mallory played. A few minutes later his eyes widened and he leaned forward, "Play it again," he murmured.

She nodded and replayed the video, watching along with him.

As it came to an end again Michael shook his head, "He's really dead. The Chosen One is gone," he whispered.

"But you saw how Noma flickered, right?" Uriel demanded.

Michael nodded but sighed, "But we are not familiar with this technology Uriel. Perhaps there was a problem with the drone that would have led to you seeing this," he suggested.

Uriel gave him a skeptical look and shook her head, "Brother, I fear she is not dead," she confided.

Michael scoffed and shook his head, "I seriously doubt that. We have both seen what these weapons can do. She is dead," he assured her.

Uriel sighed and turned back to watch the video once more, her eyes narrowing as the grey heat signature that was Noma flickered out of existence before the missile hit for a brief moment, and then flickered back.

Perhaps her brother was right…but this felt off to her.

"Uriel, I must go, elections for a new Council are taking place in Vega and I must be there," Michael insisted.

She nodded and turned to smile at him, "Be careful Michael, there's anti-angel sentiment in Helena and Vega after the rise of Lucifer. People know what happened, and they want us gone," she murmured.

"I'm all too aware Uriel. The men and women being elected to the Council are running on platforms of getting rid of any angelic presence within Vega, or limiting my powers over their decisions. I don't begrudge them that notion, it's not my intention to rule, only to help," he told her softly.

Uriel smirked, "It may not have been your intention, but I had great plans for humanity. Are we to just step back and let them fail again?" she demanded. "Is that what Father would have wanted?" she asked, lifting a brow.

Michael lifted a shoulder elegantly, "Father has refused to intervene, I think what is needed, is for Heaven to retreat and leave humanity alone. We've done enough damage, don't you think?" he asked softly.

Uriel stared at him for a long moment and then nodded slowly, "Perhaps."

"I'll look into the issue with Noma," Michael assured her, a ghost of a smile turning up a corner of his lips. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a reassuring squeeze, "We'll figure this out," he murmured.

"If she is alive, you'll kill her, won't you?" Uriel asked, glancing up at him worriedly, her delicate brow furrowed.

He nodded, "I'll do what's necessary."

"Gabriel…Gabriel…you need to wake up." Soft fingers stroked against his face and he leaned into the touch, yearning for more.

"Gabriel darling…"a soft, light laugh brushed against his cheek warmly, "if you don't wake up, I'm going to eat all the pancakes without you," a low, velvety, feminine voice teased him.

His eyes struggled to open and he inhaled heavily, breathing in the scent of vanilla and lavender on her skin.

He fought against the lead that seemed to weigh his eyes down and opened them.

Light pierced his skull like agonizing swords and he threw an arm up, groaning. "Devery?"

The breeze blew softly against his skin and he lowered his arm slowly, looking around, confused. Where was Devery? Where was he?

As the tide washed in and lapped at his feet the realization of the last few months hit him and he groaned wretchedly, his hands searching wildly through the sand for his bottle. They closed around the glass and he let out a broken cry of success, bringing it to his lips.

The remaining drops of alcohol dripped onto his cracked and broken lips and he threw aside the empty bottle with a frustrated cry. He stared into the horizon, tears rolling down his face once more.

"Where are you?" he whispered.

She didn't know where she was…she couldn't…she couldn't find herself. She had no sensation of her body; of feelings…she just knew…she was gone.

Where was she?

Gabriel was in a crisis.

His alcohol stash was perilously low and a tropical storm was threatening the island; large waves crashed into the beach as wild winds tore at the palm trees and his clothing, pushing and pulling him like a toy.

If the storm turned into a hurricane he knew his life could be put in danger…but he couldn't find the energy to care really.

He didn't care about much, truth be told, which is how he found himself wandering through the underbrush of the island, being slapped in the face by cold rain, and wondering absently why he hadn't bothered to put a shirt on.

The sand shifted beneath his feet and he slipped climbing up a hill, sprawling forward onto his chest, his face smashing into the sand. Rising to his knees he let out a frustrated growl and wiped the sand out of his eyes and hair, spitting out grit as he rose to his feet.

"Haven't met you before, what are you doing on my island?" a lyrical female voice asked.

Gabriel looked up sharply and frowned deeply at the woman standing before him, her hands planted on her hips as she gazed at him, her expression open and friendly, though she showed caution by keeping her hands near the pair of mother of pearl handled pistols at her hips.

He swiped more sand off his face and shook his head, "I've been here for months now. I can't help it if you're an unobservant idiot," he snapped.

To his surprise she laughed and shook her head, "Well, if you did anything other than drink and stumble around shouting, you might have noticed me living here too," she replied, her gaze sharp.

Gabriel's eyes narrowed, "I thought you said you hadn't seen me before?" he demanded.

"I certainly did not. I said I hadn't met you before. I've seen you wandering around like a crazy person, smelling like a distillery, shouting at the sky. Who you tryin to get to listen?" she asked, her brows furrowing softly. "From what I hear, ain't nobody left in Heaven to answer those prayers," she murmured sarcastically.

Gabriel burst out laughing bitterly and shook his head, a sour smile on his face, "You're more right than you know," he replied softly.

The woman lifted a brow and stared at him for a moment, her gaze running over him, taking in his tanned and vaguely burnt skin; his drink hazed eyes and rumpled hair. Sighing softly she shook her head, "When's the last time you had a good meal?" she asked.

Gabriel opened his mouth to reply and then realized he wasn't sure. He had eaten some dried rabbit and some mango this morning, but that didn't really count…

Instead of answering he shrugged, casting his gaze aside, avoiding her eyes.

"Alright then, come with me and have something to eat," she encouraged.

He hesitated a moment and then nodded, following after her as she turned and led him through the trees and towards the ruins of a small town. Most of the houses looked as though the weather and the years of abandonment had sent them into serious disrepair if not outright ruin, but the house she led him to was in good condition, with a brick oven and wood stove.

Gabriel sank down in a comfortable chair by the stove, not realizing that he had been cold until a shiver ran over his skin. The woman busied herself with preparing food, not bothering to chatter. A few minutes later the kettle she had placed on the stove screamed and she poured out a cup of tea and handed it to him with a gentle smile.

"Try that. You could use a drink that isn't alcohol, I'd wager," she murmured wryly.

He took it with a faint look of gratitude and smirked at her comment; he couldn't deny that his alcohol consumption in the past months had been…alcoholic in nature. His smirk faded as he sipped the tea.

He was sober for the first time in months and the grief he had worked so hard to keep at bay or numb began to wash ashore in the gulf of his heart, threatening to drown him.

The woman sat across from him and handed him a plate filled with rice and cooked meat. She watched him over the edge of her own cup of tea as he ate eagerly, avoiding her gaze.

"The woman you lost, how long ago did she die?" the woman asked softly.

Gabriel paused as he lifted a forkful of food to his mouth, anger flooding him at her question. How dare she ask about Devery? Did she think she had the right just because she was feeding him?

He took slow breaths for a moment and then closed his lips around the fork, chewing slowly as he tried to prevent himself from acting irrationally. After swallowing he cleared his throat and answered her.

"Ahem. She was killed…four months ago," he murmured, grief making his voice soft.

The woman studied him for a moment and then nodded, "You loved her," she said, not asking.

He nodded.

"You'll see her again," she said confidently and gave him a warm smile when he looked up at her sharply, his eyes narrow with suspicion.

"She's dead," he replied harshly.

The woman lifted a shoulder, "Stranger things have happened. Angels came to Earth and I've even heard Lucifer rose a short time ago. People coming back from the dead?" she mused, pursing her lips and shrugging, "Doesn't seem so outrageous."

Gabriel stood abruptly and shoved the plate into her hands, "She's dead," he repeated, his voice raw with emotion. She stared up at him for a moment before nodding.

"If you're looking for more alcohol, there's a bar down the street. I don't need or want it, so take what you like," she said, smiling faintly at him.

He nodded sharply and made his way toward the door, pausing when he saw the storm raging outside. His own internal storm had come raging to life and he had the urge to fling himself into the eye of the abyss, consequences be damned.

"Do you think we get what we deserve?" he asked softly, his throat tight as he squeezed out the words.

A soft throaty chuckle greeted his words and he turned his head in surprise, watching her from the corner of his eye as she moved about the small room, cleaning up his meal. She shook her head and he turned back to watch the storm.

"I think humanity is deeply flawed and very rarely gets what they deserve. People kill, beat, rape, steal and degrade each other from the moment they enter this world and we rejoice over the small acts of kindness we encounter. If the world was truly just, we would live in a utopia. But humans and angels have destroyed any chance of that happening. I think what we have now is what we've earned…after all this time."

She sighed heavily and Gabriel could hear a lifetime's weight of sorrow in it. "We've gotten what we deserve," she murmured. They lapsed into silence and he watched the storm for a long time, pondering her words.

As lightning lit up the darkening sky he broke the silence.

"Thank you for the meal, and the tea."

"You're welcome. Try not to drink yourself to death. Come back if you need a friendly ear," the woman encouraged.

He nodded and without looking back, stepped out into the storm.

A week later Gabriel stumbled through the trees and underbrush, searching for the pathway to the small town. When he broke out into the ruins a few minutes later he looked around in confusion.

The house the woman lived in appeared just as dilapidated as the rest.

Hurrying forward he pushed open the door that hung crookedly on one hinge and stared in amazement; the house looked as though it had never been lived in—there was no sign the woman had ever been there.

Coming back out to stand in the street he looked around in confusion; had he drunkenly imagined the whole encounter?

"You came back."

He whirled around and found the woman standing in the street, this time dressed in a white linen shift dress, her dark brown hair shot through with grey hanging around her shoulders as though the humid heat of the island didn't bother her.

Gabriel stared at her for a long moment until suspicion began to sink in. As it did anger began to rise in its place until he was so furious he could barely look at her.

His hands fisted at his sides and he gritted his teeth.

"Hello Father," he snarled, mocking her with the title.

She smiled and lifted a hand towards her body, "Don't you think Mother would be a more appropriate title, Gabriel?" God asked.

Gabriel laughed sharply, "I can think of a few titles for you, and I'm sure you wouldn't appreciate any of them," he told her angrily.

She nodded, accepting his anger. "You want to know why Devery hasn't returned yet," she told him.

Gabriel's fists tightened and he struggled to breathe through the rage pulsing in his chest. "Yes," he hissed.

"Very well. She was, to put it quite simply, obliterated. The sheer power to bring her back will take years off her life. Quite a lot of them," God informed him.

Gabriel's frown deepened, "What does that mean?" he demanded.

"It means she won't live forever. But she will return. You must be patient, my child," God murmured gently, smiling at him.

"And are you returning to Heaven? Will you take control once more?" Gabriel demanded.

She smiled benignly at him, "Perhaps. There's more yet for you and the Knight to do. The world needs my Sword, Gabriel. Will you be my right hand again?" she asked, lifting a questioning brow.

Gabriel seethed. God had abandoned them, had toyed with them, had refused to help them, and now wanted his help. Yet here she was, indicating that things were still not resolved. It was his duty as the Sword of God to answer the call.

The question was; did he answer to duty in Heaven, or love on Earth?

Inhaling slowly he nodded, "I accept my duty," he murmured.

"Very goo-"

"Only if I remain with Devery and have your promise that we may remain together when my duty is finished," he said, cutting off God. He wasn't choosing between duty and love, he was going to have both, and when he was done, he was leaving Heaven.

She stared at him for a long moment, annoyance pinching her brow. After a heavy sigh she shrugged, "Very well. I swear that you and Devery may remain together while your missions are pursued and after they are complete, you may remain on Earth with her."

Gabriel nodded and then bowed slightly, "Thank you, Mother," he murmured, lifting a brow sarcastically.

Her face clouded with annoyance, "Careful Gabriel. I may not be in Heaven but I still have the ability to lock you in a cage of star fire and throw away the key until this sun dies," she threatened.

"Ahh, fond memories of childhood," Gabriel drawled, smiling dryly at her. He bowed lower and spread his wings, "I'll go back to drinking, thank you very much," he sighed, vaulting into the sky and leaving his Godly parent behind.

She watched him fly away, a pitiless, thoughtful smile on her face.

Thousands of miles away there was something bizarre happening in the ruins of a small town in the scrubland of what was once Alabama. Dirt and pebbles shifted, floating in the air and dropping as their weight became too much to support.

A soft breeze began to blow and small particles on the sides of houses swirled, forming together. The danced on the wind, sighing softly through the cracks in a haunting song that sounded eerily like a woman's voice.

An older woman with dark, grey streaked hair stood watching, her smile thoughtful.

"Rise, Knight," she whispered, "Rise!"