Chapter 39: Chosen

The city blew sideways. Buildings cracked and walls flattened outward, rapidly falling into a layered circular pattern, much like petals of a compressed flower. From above, it would have looked concentric, beautiful…if such destruction could ever be called beautiful.

At the center of the devastation was the Chosen One.

The light gradually fled from the world, dissipating from its assault, and the glow disappeared altogether from his eyes, leaving them blue, blood-shot and weeping. He closed his mouth after a moment and blinked as stared up at the cloudy sky, the colors slowly coming into focus. His body shuddered and gave in to the sudden exhaustion that took hold. Falling to his knees with a jolt rebounding through his bones, he closed his eyes for a moment of relief.

He ached. And that strange rumble was still echoing through his head, making his surroundings feel eerily quiet. He leaned forward onto his knuckles and took a deep breath. What had he done?

Opening his eyes, he steeled himself for the view in front of him. The area immediately around him was barren of anything. No debris, no bodies. He had been the eye of the storm, but further out he could see the damage. Buildings and walls were crumpled. Smoke and dust filled the air, slowly clearing as the wind swooped in and flowed throughout the settlement. Bodies littered the hills of rubble. As far as his eyes could see, there were hills upon hills of wreckage, covered in fallen bodies.

Alex's chest tightened.

He closed his eyes for a moment as a wall of emotion ripped up from his stomach and into his head. For a moment he allowed it, tears poured from his eyes and a moan of pain and anguish escaped his mouth. His shoulder shook for a moment as he cried. What had he done? He was the destruction of everything. He was the one who ended it all.

After a moment, he swallowed it down and took a deep breath. What had transpired was his doing. He looked at his hands and searched for the tattoos. But they weren't there. Frantically pushing his sleeves up, he touched his skin. His bare, empty, tattoo-less skin. They were gone. The markings were gone. Grabbing at his shirt he looked down at his chest to find more smooth unmarred skin. "No!" he said to himself in disbelief.

As if to answer his anguish, something rippled under the skin on the back of his neck. Alex froze. Cautiously, he touched it and exhaled in relief. The tattoo, the words…they were still there. Just underneath his neckline. A small symbol at the base of his neck. He couldn't see it, but he could feel it. It rippled in response to his touch, and it reminded him of the power that easily flowed through his veins now. He briefly touched his fingers together and reveled in the spark between them. A small glow lit up his fingertips, reminding him of what he had become.

Off in the distance, another piece of wreckage fell with a resounding clang, bringing him back to his surroundings. Pushing himself onto his tired legs, he took a few steps forward. He needed to know how much he destroyed. Was it really everything? Was the world really desiccated? Had he really annihilated everyone? Are those all eightballs or humans as well? Why couldn't he remember everything that had happened?

Moving slowly, he paused at the closest hill of debris and scanned the area. Picking his way through the broken pieces of concrete until he was in the midst of everything, he paused after spotting a familiar sight. His heart clenched and his mouth went dry.

Crumpled black wings coated in a think layer of white dust barely concealed Michael's bloodied face. He lay in the center of the chaotic mess, his face serene despite the wounds. Alex couldn't bring himself to take a closer look. His breath hitched and he wondered if he might throw up.

Not too far from Michael was another prone broken-winged angel. By the look of his jacket, it was Gabriel. Alex's stomach churned and he suddenly felt numb. Kneeling down, he had to stop for a moment. He listened to the world around him. At first, it was oddly peaceful.

Except for one sound. An alarm slowly intruded his mind. Had it always been there? Or was he only now hearing it?

It threatened danger off in the distance. Alex cringed as he realized what it was. It was the nuclear reactor. That didn't bode well. If anyone were alive, they wouldn't be for long. His stomach flip-flopped at the thought, and yet he couldn't push himself to stand up.

A piece of metal crunched, the sound approaching from one of the distant hills of bodies.

Someone was walking through the debris. Someone dressed in white. Someone with wings.

Alex blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision of stray tears. And then he looked up as the winged being flew closer, slowly descending, and landing right by Michael's prone form. Leisurely pacing forward, the booted feet passed the two brothers and meandered straight to Alex. Staring upwards, the Chosen One held his breath as he remained on his knees.

Alex's blue eyes watered once more. A look of awe and resignation crossed his face as he gawked up at the oversized angel in front of him.

Dressed in a white-and-tan tunic with elaborate scrolling filigree and a silver pauldron on his left arm, the massive angel looked like he belonged in a different era. The angel's wings were a pristine white, so white that the feathers were glowing.

A sizeable hilt of a broad sword peaked up from behind his neck and his white blonde hair was pulled back, showing off his olive skin. He looked pristine, shiny and new with no dirt or blood on him. And he smiled at him beatifically and with pride. His almond shaped pitch-black eyes pierced Alex as he stared down at him in that unblinking otherworldly eerie manner. He looked like a statue of a mythical creature. Perhaps even a hero in a tale told to small children.

Stopping a foot away from Alex, he was close enough to touch. The angel lowered his hand, offering his palm as he continued to beam down at him.

Alex looked at the broad hand in front of him and then craned his head back to truly face the strange creature. Tears spilled out of his eyes as he tilted back and noticed the angel's armor. It had a peculiar sigil on it, in the form of a many-pointed star.

The clouds above parted and the bright sun revealed itself again, brightening just behind the angel's head as if it gave him a broken halo. Blinking away the wetness, he gazed at the stranger's face in awe.

He knew this face. Something tickled at his memory.

The unblinking giant smiled again at him, this time revealing his teeth. Teeth that protruded out just a bit…sharp pointed teeth.

Alex swallowed and his body shuddered involuntarily. He didn't want to know this creature, but somehow he did. Taking a deep breath, he tried to retain all that he had been. Before the choosing.

What had he done? How did he become…this? He couldn't remember who he once was, where he had once been. But all that he could remember were those hills. The hills of red.

And this smiling face.

"Father?"