Author's note: My betareader is back! Welcome back Cloudfactory! :D

Previously: After he refused to resort to threats on Dean, Castiel was temporarily downgraded and is on probation. Uriel is in command in the meantime, and has taken Castiel to Anna to execute her, but she managed to escape after getting her Grace back. Castiel captured Alastair, who won't talk under torture. On the orders of the Council, Castiel forces Dean to use his torture skills, even though he has doubts and sympathy for him. Alastair frees himself and attacks Dean, and Sam arrives just in time to use his powers and kill the demon. Before he died, Alastair claimed that demons were not responsible for the Angels' deaths. Castiel is filled with doubts and wonders if this is not all God's doing.

This chapter still takes place in season 4 episode 16.

Betrayal

My arrival raises a powdery cloud of snow around me. I fold my wings and look down at my brother who is sitting on the empty park bench. His true face is frosted in a glowing haze and his three eyes are sternly closed.

"Uriel."

No reply. Uriel's aura causes the air around him to ripple, and his wings are stretched out behind his back so rigidly that they look like ice carvings. He is probably still receiving Revelations - which would explain why he never answered my calls.

The fresh layer of snow crunches under my feet as I walk up to the bench and take a look around - there is no living thing here, and the winter white coat hushes and muffles all sounds from the city. Ice particles glisten in the light of the late afternoon, and the bare tree branches stretch their shadows out across the bright gray sky.

Gazing upon nature's magnificence combined with human structures is not enough to appease my Grace's restlessness. In the absence of answers to my questions, I was hoping to find support because Uriel is, of all my siblings, the one I'm closest to. The events following the Apocalypse might have driven us apart, but nothing will ever undo millions of years of quiet understanding that we have shared side by side, often in silence, watching the species grow in our care - not to mention all the wars and hardships we faced together and our many missions on Earth.

With Levanael dead, Uriel is the only one I can confide in about how Sam Winchester's words struck fear into me.

My throat is unusually tight, making it difficult to breathe - the air I exhale billows in pale mist in the cold air. The swaying branches become blurred and I clench my fists, barely controlling my Grace as it churns through my veins.

If our Creator intends to wipe out both the Garrison and Humanity, why not just do it fast and in one go, like it happened with the dinosaurs or the Leviathans? What cruel God would allow the termination of an entire species and more than two hundred Angels to take so long? How can this be the Father I have striven all my life to please, hoping for even one single crumb of His love?

The Father you love, you think He wants this? You think He'd ask this of you? You think this is righteous?

Anna's fierce voice rings in my memory, so confident and strong. And it becomes all too clear.

I am faced with a choice.

The choice to believe that my Father is a God of hatred and destruction who is killing Humanity and the Garrison with a slow cruelty. That He hates me and punishes me for having failed as a General.

Or the choice to believe what the demon-blooded boy and a rebel who abandoned me said: that my Father no longer gives the orders. Which would mean that I made Dean endure a cruel hardship on an illegitimate order, that an Angel possibly slaughtered my most loyal soldiers because they believed they were following God's orders, and that something is definitely wrong at the highest command. Although horrifying, believing this would preserve my Faith - my Father would still be the merciful and benevolent God I've always pictured in my mind. It would explain so much... my unanswered prayers, the hierarchy's disregard for us, and all the orders I have reluctantly executed.

This would mean that Anna was right to rebel, and that she could be rehabilitated if her theory is proven to be true.

The glimpse of hope rising in me is terrifying. I'm not a Human. I'm not a creature of free will. How could I possibly make such a decision, one with so many consequences? How am I to know which path to take if no one is guiding me, telling me where to go, what to do, or what to think? How could I tell if my choice is the right one, if I am not losing sight of the truth like Lucifer, Azazel or Alastair did?

I was never meant to make a choice. It's against my nature.

I look up to the sky as I exhale, my wings clenched behind my back. My breath rises as white steam, fading out in the air as I watch the branches gently swaying.

What exactly is going on in Heaven?

"Castiel?"

My brother's deep voice draws me out of my dark thoughts.

"I received Revelation from our superiors."

I should tell him what Anna said about our superiors, but I don't know how. What's the best way to tell my brother that I suspect something is wrong in the chain of command without sounding like a potential rebel?

"Our brothers and sisters are dying and they…" Uriel's voice is filled with indignation. "They want us to stop hunting the demon responsible."

I unclench my fists and feel relief rippling through my Grace.

So I'm not losing my mind, Uriel just proved it. I am not alone. I'm not the only one having doubts, questioning our hierarchy's absurd orders. Anna's words and my fondness for Dean have nothing to do with the way I perceive things. My suspicions are justified.

I step closer and sit next to my brother on the bench. Our wings go through the wood and brush against each other behind us. Just like the old days.

"Something is wrong up there," says Uriel in a strained voice. "I mean, can you feel it?"

He turns his head to me, and his gaze is so intense that I can feel it burning through my fleshy vessel and into my Grace.

To hear an Angel - especially Uriel - share his concerns and questions so openly is new to me. I haven't been in this kind of situation since the day Jesus Christ died and Anna confessed to me that she was envious of the human ability to grieve and suffer.

Is it possible that I am not quite as alone as I thought? Could it be that many of my brothers, like me, are struggling to repress their doubts behind their Faith?

"The murders," I say, carefully picking my words. "Maybe they aren't demonic."

I avert my eyes, unable to hold my brother's stare.

If this turns out to be accurate, then on two occasions now I have failed a mission by leading the Garrison in the wrong direction. We searched for Dean Winchester in Hell under my guidance, and he only broke the first seal because I fell for a stupid diversion designed by the demons. And now the righteous man came close to losing his life over my own failure and obstinacy in blaming demons - as any other possibility raised questions I could not bear to face.

"Sam Winchester said the demons had nothing to do with it."

"If not the demons, what could it be?"

To my surprise, Uriel didn't even slander the demon-blooded boy like he always does.

Should I tell him now about my suspicions? The more I think about it, the more I realize how my Faith has blinded me. I never once considered, out of devotion to my Father and trust in the hierarchy, that God could be malevolent or that some usurper was giving us the orders. I always just believed that I was not suited to see through the Lord's mysterious ways.

"The will of Heaven. We are failing, Uriel. We are losing the war. Perhaps the Garrison is being punished."

He chokes in outrage.

"You think our Father would—"

"I think maybe our Father isn't giving the orders anymore. Maybe there is something wrong."

The instructions he just received through Revelations only support Anna's theory - I refuse to even consider that my Father would be cruel enough to order us to be killed one by one without any explanation. I refuse to believe it with all my being.

Only an illegitimate being involved in the murders of Garrison soldiers would want to interfere with our investigation. The bench creaks as my brother stands up, his wings ferociously snapping open.

"Well, I won't wait to be gutted," he snarls.

Uriel disappears with a silky rustle of feathers, leaving me alone in the park. A surge of sour resignation washes over me.

The Garrison has reached a dead end. Becoming General made me see this and realize how isolated we are from our own Family. We are too young, too inexperienced, and from the very moment of our creation, we were exiled, separated from our brothers, from our history, from our identity.

No wonder we are Heaven's misfits. Created for the sole purpose of monitoring Father's experiment on animals with souls that He ended up favoring over us. Guardians of a species whose existence causes so many issues and conflicts within our Family.

I really should not have told my brother about my suspicions. Uriel is impetuous, short-tempered, and has always been inclined to solve every problem with violence. What will he do, all alone, with his anger against some unknown enemy in the hierarchy or a God who hates us? He once went astray about Camael's execution, when he tried to lead the whole Garrison into a rebellion that would have brought him to his death.

I fear I made a terrible mistake. I may have poisoned my brother's mind and led him to his downfall, like I did to all my most loyal soldiers.

If there is one thing I have learned from the Apocalypse and Camael's death, it's that any rebellion, no matter how massive, no matter how righteous, will be crushed mercilessly. If hundreds of thousands of Angels combined could not win, then just what are Uriel and I to do on our own?

I look down at my clasped hands and whisper a hesitant prayer to my Father. And like always since my creation, I obtain no answer.

Is it foolish of me to cling on to some far-fetched theory about a power struggle in Heaven, based on the words of a rebel sentenced to death and the demon-blooded boy? Perhaps this is my way of avoiding the hard truth, that God doesn't love us and is getting rid of us.

I sit still, gazing at the quiet layer of snow where tree shadows are moving along with the sun's course. Then, as the sky darkens and wraps the area in darkness, I get up from the bench and start walking, hands in my coat pockets. I have made my decision.

The lamp posts light up and crackle as I walk by, casting an artificial glow on the snow-covered grass and the tree branches. My footsteps echo on the concrete path until I stop under a lamp post, in front of a building that appears huge from my human height. My vessel's heart starts racing in my rib cage - making a choice on my own for the first time in my life throws me into a pit of anguish.

Disobeying.

Doubting.

I'm about to commit the two greatest crimes an Angel is capable of.

"Anna!"

My voice is hoarse, rising in the silent night. I peer around, searching for her figure and trying to sense her aura. I get no reply. She's nowhere to be seen and yet, I know Anna can hear me.

I pushed her away when I should have accepted her help, and in result, Dean was put in grave danger. I won't make that mistake again of dismissing my fallen sister's words, no matter how much I resent her.

"Anna, please..."

The lamp post above my head starts crackling under the effect of the familiar aura that suddenly envelops the place and makes my wings quiver in expectation. I slowly turn around to face my sister, my General, my lifelong guide.

Her gaze is defiant and she seems wary.

"Decided to kill me after all?"

I can feel my wings sagging under her reproachful glare - a rush of longing chokes me. I miss the old days when my only concern was to obey her orders and be rewarded with a praise or a caring glance. Everything was so easy then.

Anna doesn't know how hard I've tried to get the hierarchy to grant her forgiveness and spare her life. But still, she should know me well enough to understand that I would never kill one of my brothers so indifferently. The only reason Uriel and I tried to kill her was because we were following orders - bad orders - and certainly not because we decided to.

"I'm alone," I say in a low voice.

Because I am. I really am.

Alone with my doubts and fear of making the wrong decision.

"What do you want from me, Castiel?"

"I'm considering disobedience."

My words hang in the winter air, heavy with blasphemy, and the sheer terror ingrained in me since Siosp's public execution freezes my Grace in my veins.

"Good," says Anna with satisfaction as she folds her wings.

I can't help clenching my hands into fists.

"No, it's not."

Anna knows full well what awaits an Angel who disobeys - rehabilitation, execution, or the most appalling decay. There is nothing to be pleased about. Experiencing feelings and being faced with a choice is the worst thing that could happen to me. I would give anything to have back the clarity and certainty I once had.

It's too late now. I can't go back. I went too far, way too far. I don't know if Anna is trying to lure me out of the right path like Azazel once did to Adam and Eve, but I have to stoop to the worst of crimes if there is even the slightest chance of saving my soldiers, sparing Humanity from the Apocalypse, and the Winchester brothers from the grim role awaiting them.

"For the first time... I feel."

The confession fills me with so much shame that I look down.

"It gets worse," says Anna in a softer tone.

How can this relentless anguish get any worse? How can Anna endure this?

"Choosing your own course of action," she says, moving closer, " is confusing... terrifying."

She comes to a halt in front of me and reaches out for my shoulder. The touch of her hand sets my Grace ablaze with a combination of yearning and wrath as I look down at her hand made of flesh, bone and blood.

Anna can't understand, and she has no right to compare her situation to mine. I choose to damn myself, to debase myself to the core to protect my remaining soldiers, to save Dean and Sam, to save Humanity, while Anna... Anna abandoned us, abandoned me, leaving me to carry the burden and responsibility she no longer wanted. And all this for what? To have these feelings that I wish I could have removed?

Her place was with us, with me, to guide us, to be the anchor of our Faith!

She withdraws her hand, her aura filling with hurt and anger.

"That's right," she snarls coldly. "You're too good for my help. I'm just trash. A walking blasphemy."

Obviously misinterpreting my reluctance, my sister turns on her heels and strides away.

"Anna," I call out urgently to hold her back. "I don't know what to do. Please tell me what to do."

Anna freezes and turns around, giving me a pitying look. The hint of a smile grazes her lips.

"Like the old days?"

I stare intently at her, ready to obey her orders and follow the path she will point out to me, whatever it may be.

"No," she says unblinkingly, her wings unfurling. "I'm sorry. It's time to think for yourself."

She flies away, leaving me in the cold silence and the same uncertainty I had hoped she would relieve me of. Once again, she abandons me without any indication, in utter darkness.

Think for myself...

How can I take such a major decision when I don't know all the facts? Should I join Uriel and fight authority with no chance of success? I have no idea what is going on in the highest ranks of command, but even if our superiors did plan on destroying the Garrison to punish us for our failures, or to make the final battle between the Archangels happen faster, there is something amiss in this theory. Something I don't understand. Michael would never have allowed his true vessel to be harmed. It would have put his confrontation with Lucifer in jeopardy.

Could the one who killed my soldiers be a rebellious Angel acting in the shadows? Only an Angel could have slipped around my surveillance and unleashed Alastair to kill Dean. And not just any Angel. To conceal their aura from me would require an intimate knowledge of my flaws and my Grace's wavelength.

My eyes linger on the park's oozing water faucet, and I can't help frowning as I think back to the sound of drops hitting the ground yesterday. I had not noticed the dripping sound then, distraught as I was by the talk I had with my fallen sister. I never got the chance to examine or analyze how my devil trap broke - could it be...?

With one strong flap of my wings, I leave the park and appear in the shadowy torture chamber, dimly lit by moonlight pouring down on the trap. The smell of blood, sulfur and fear still lingering in the air is thick with humidity and mold.

Simultaneously projected in all dimensions, the trap forms a glowing globe of orbiting silver sigils, circled by liquid Enochian incantations. But on an entire section of this cage, invisible to non-celestial eyes, the glowing protections dissemble and collapse into a gaping hole in the fabric of reality. The persistent sound of dripping water echoes in the cold room.

I take a couple of steps closer to the rip in the wall that I had built to be unbreakable. And right there, at my feet, I notice that the trap's white outline is severed at a pivotal point. At the precise spot where the protections converged to unite them on all planes by making flow the energy of my own Grace that I had infused into it. I crouch down and run my fingertip on the ground - it's wet and cold, and the water filled with bacteria seeps into my skin pores.

A drop hits the top of my head and makes me look up. Fixed to the ceiling is a rusty pipe with leaking joints.

I rise to my feet, following it with my eyes, and walk around the pillar where the pipe goes down before it disappears into the ground. There, apart from the trap and out of Alastair's sight, a small crank is loosened, opening a valve that allows water to rush into the metal tube. Sharpening my vessel's senses, I can hear it flowing into the pipe.

I didn't want to believe it, but all evidence points to this.

This isn't the hierarchy's doing, the one who broke my trap is a rebellious Angel. An Angel who wishes for Humanity's destruction. An Angel who knows me very well. An Angel close to me. An Angel of the Garrison. An Angel powerful enough to take down skilled soldiers like Levanael, Miz or Ephra in a matter of seconds.

Uriel has consistently shown nothing but disdain for the species in our charge, and even more so since the failed Apocalypse and Camael's death.

I feel empty, and the hole in my heart keeps growing larger.

To make such an accusation on my brother is painful. I can safely say that it was less unpleasant for me to deal with the idea of a corrupt hierarchy and a blind Father than to lose one more brother in the worst possible way. I have seen Anna, Camael and Siosp wandering off the right path before my eyes and destroying themselves. I can't go through this again.

Or maybe... just maybe Uriel has been commissioned by a superior, one of those high ranking Angels who hate Humans? Maybe he's just following orders, just like I did myself when I lied to the entire Garrison about Camael, on Michael's orders?

As I shut the rusty squeaky crank, I focus my Grace into the celestial communication channels linking me to my brother.

Uriel. I need to talk to you. Right now.

"You called?"

My brother's voice rises in the silence - no more water drops hitting the ground now - without any sound of flapping wings to announce his arrival. This probably means that he was already there but had hidden his presence from me, which only increases my suspicions. I really hoped I was wrong, but... I should have known better. The seeds of disobedience were already planted in him long ago.

The massive shape of my brother emerges from the shadows and takes a few heavy steps to the broken trap, walking over the collapsed sigils.

"What do you say, Castiel? Will you join me? Will you fight with me?"

No Angel would ever dare speaking so openly of rebellion, let alone attempt to draw their brethren into their downfall. The shame and self-loathing would have crushed them. Not Uriel, though. He has, after all, already tried once to raise the Garrison against Heaven during Camael's agony on his cross.

It took me thousands of years before I even dared to voice my doubts out loud, and only to a Human who wouldn't find my crime to be disgusting. And to Anna, who has herself fallen so utterly into disgrace that our entire Family speaks of her with revulsion. I would never have ventured to reveal my doubts to an Angel who walks in line. I could never tell Rachel, Htmorda, or Zedekiel that I am harboring inclinations to disobey.

Uriel is no longer the brother I used to know. He has changed, and so have I. In the past, I would most likely have taken his every word as the absolute truth.

Ever since I replaced Anna as head of the Garrison, I've learned from all the different stakes, strategies and hidden objectives, and I know now how much a seemingly harmless act can dissimulate.

"Strange," I say, watching closely how he reacts. "Strange how a leaky pipe can undo the work of Angels when we ourselves are supposed to be the agents of Fate."

Uriel is avoiding my gaze and the way he replies is a little too casual to be convincing.

"Alastair was much more powerful than we had imagined."

"No."

He finally meets my eyes hesitantly, tightening his wings behind his back. And the uneasiness in the three crimson orbs of his true face suddenly strikes me - how did I not see it earlier? Uriel is supposed to be my closest brother, the one I thought I knew the most...

"No demon can overpower that trap," I say firmly, staring at him intently. "I made it myself."

Sam, and now my own brother... to be accused of building a defective trap is offensive. Coming from the demon-blooded boy, I didn't mind so much. But my brother should know better. He has seen how thorough I am, both in writing reports and in making a seal, a trap, or an incantation.

Questioning my abilities so rudely is so insulting. Did he really think I would fall for such a lame explanation?

Uriel averts his eyes again, his wings sagging behind his back, subconsciously I guess.

"We've been friends for a long time, Uriel." I slowly step closer. "Fought by each other's sides, served together away from home, for what seems like... forever."

I stop in front of him, my eyes locking into his. Silent, he averts his eyes, his aura receding to the point of being almost entirely absorbed into his vessel.

"We're brothers, Uriel. Pay me that respect. Tell me the truth."

"The truth is, the only thing that can kill an Angel..."

The characteristic sound of hardened Grace forging a blade echoes through the damp room - Uriel's weapon just slipped into his left hand, gleaming ominously. My Grace freezes at the blatant confirmation of my suspicions as Uriel tightens his grip on the blade and raises it to his face.

"...is another Angel," he murmurs sorrowfully, with a hint of threat in his voice.

"You."

How could I have been so blind about my brother? How could I not see him sliding into the most despicable downfall, right before my eyes?

Shock turns to outrage as I remember the inert, bloody shape of Dean Winchester lying on the ground.

"I'm afraid so."

"And you broke the devil's trap," I say angrily, "set Alastair on Dean."

Does he even realize what he did? Trying to destroy the righteous man, Michael's vessel, Humanity's only hope to defeat Lucifer...

Uriel stares at me, shaking his head with his typical simmering anger.

"Alastair should never have been taken alive. Really inconvenient, Cas."

He said my name - the shortened version that he was the first one to use - with a hint of resentment, as he holds the blade tighter in his hand.

Alastair was captured on my initiative alone, and clearly it went against Uriel's plans. Plans that I fail to understand. Uriel made no secret of the fact that he dislikes the Winchesters and despises the human species in our charge, but why would he team up with demons? Uriel hates demons far more than he hates Humans, so why...?

I don't understand. My own brother feels like a complete stranger now - I can't read him at all. Is he working alone? Can't he see that this will send him, like Siosp, straight to execution?

Once more, I have to watch a brother lose his way and debase himself right in front of me. For what he did, the hierarchy won't think twice and they will execute him.

And this time again, it's too late to act when I finally understand.

"Yes, I did turn the screw a little," Uriel admits dismissively, sounding annoyed. "Alastair should have killed Dean and escaped, and you should have gone on happily scapegoating the demons."

All this time... when my soldiers were dying, when I was wasting precious time blaming demons and searching for a weapon that was never real, with Uriel's support... All this time, Uriel was the one killing our brothers and sisters, then coming back to me to make a show of his fake sadness and watch me undergo the hierarchy's accusations?

Miz, Levanael, Ephra... He fought by their side, laughed with them, shared millions of years of brotherly union in the Garrison... How could he?

"For the murders of our kin?"

Does he not feel any remorse?

"Not murders, Castiel!" He gestures irritably. "No. My work is... conversion."

My Grace is frozen, moving slowly in my veins.

Uriel... Oh, brother... what happened to you?

With such fury that his aura pulses through the entire room, Uriel snaps his wings open.

"How long have we waited here? How long have we played this game by rules that make no sense?"

Unable to hold his glare or the grim echo of my own doubts in his voice, I turn away, clasping my wings so tightly behind my back that it aches.

"It is our Father's world, Uriel..."

"Our father?!" Uriel's voice behind me thunders.

I can feel my Faith wavering, and out of habit I look up to the flood of light raining down on the broken trap. A prayer, one more plea to my Father starts to build in my mind, but I am unable to put it into words, not even in my thoughts.

"He stopped being that, if he ever was!" he spits hatefully.

First Anna, and now Uriel... is it some kind of test sent by the hierarchy or God, just as having me kill the innocent survivors of the Flood was just to gauge my obedience? Or is there truth in their blasphemies?

Siosp's agonizing scream above Sodom's burning ruins and the Dead Sea's placid surface still echoes in my mind and has me frozen with dread. How am I to know what is right and what isn't?

"The moment he created them," my brother keeps talking behind me. "Humanity! His favorites. This whining, puking larva."

Uriel said something about conversion... to what? To hating Humans?

Is he trying to...?

I turn to face him.

"Are you trying to convert me?"

"I wanted you to join me! And I still do. With you, we can be powerful enough to—"

"… to?" I say, staring at him unblinkingly.

"To raise our brother."

Everything is clear now. This is everything I feared.

"… Lucifer," I say as panic rises in me.

He tried to kill Dean and now seeks to set the fallen Archangel free, clearly he wants to destroy Humanity.

"You do remember him?" he smiles. The kind of devotion in his eyes should only be for God. He walks slowly past me, his gaze distant and wistful. "How strong he was? How beautiful?"

I do remember our fight against the Leviathans, the four Archangels united, the Morning Star's strength and confidence, the light he radiated... But I also remember him as the agent of destruction, death and chaos who set the entire Earth on fire. His threats against Humanity, which at the time hardly affected me, troubled as I was by Yasen, Ecaop and Hcoma's death, now make me flinch with dread.

For I have learned to love these flawed and unpredictable beings, their works of art, their courage and their bonds of family and love. I don't want to see the most precious piece of creation destroyed.

"And he didn't bow to humanity!" he snarls at me. "He was punished for defending us."

I remember how Uriel and the other Angels of the Garrison rioted when it became clear that Camael's Grace had been eliminated and that God was sacrificing one of our own only to deliver a message to the Humans. A message they have been twisting and degrading for the past two thousand years.

"Now, if you want to believe in something, Cas, believe in him."

Even if I have doubts about my Father and the validity of the orders we receive, I would never choose a fallen Archangel over the Lord of us all.

"Lucifer is not God."

"God isn't God anymore," Uriel snaps back. His wings are twitching restlessly and he keeps avoiding my gaze, stepping behind me again. "He doesn't care what we do. I am proof of that!"

"But this...?"

I'm in a loss for words. Was he trying to convert Ephra, Miz, Pmox, Levanael and the other three new recruits, or was he discovered and had to kill them so they wouldn't turn him in? Many Angels killed each other when Camael died, in panic, anger, and the heat of the moment, but... how could Uriel end the lives of our closest brothers and sisters?

I turn to face my brother again, intent on not letting him shy away from my gaze.

"What were you gonna do, Uriel? Were you gonna kill the whole Garrison?"

"I only killed the ones who said no."

His words strike like an ice sword through my heart, and I look down at the ground where there are still blood stains at my brother's feet - Dean's blood.

The seven murdered Angels said no to Uriel... which means that all the others... Balthazar, Rachel, Baradiel, Hester, Zedekiel...

"Others have joined me, Cas," Uriel murmurs, confirming my suspicion. "Now, please, brother, don't fight me. Help me. Help me spread the word!"

I look up to my brother's face again. The one I thought of as my closest friend without realizing that I lost him a long time ago.

I have no friends. The entire Garrison betrayed me and plotted Lucifer's return behind my back. Now I understand why all my tactics and efforts failed, why the demons won the war.

My only friends, those who were as devoted and dedicated to the Mission, to the Garrison, to Humanity as I am, are all dead now.

"Help me bring on the Apocalypse!" Uriel stares at me with pleading, hopeful eyes. "All you have to do is be unafraid," he whispers, with the hint of a smile.

We share a long look and everything becomes evident to me, as clear as a bell. No matter the hierarchy's games, whether God is in charge or not, what Anna or Uriel believes in. There is only one thing that is true and reliable, and that will never change.

An everlasting truth.

I was created to watch over and protect Humanity. And I will never betray the primary Mission that God assigned to me through the Archangel Raphael in my first moments of life. Not even for Uriel.

I have made my decision. It doesn't matter if I am to be the eighth and last Angel of the Garrison to be slain for doing his duty.

"For the first time in a long time... I am."

Uriel's face brightens with a smile, and just when his wings move to wrap me in a cocoon of translucent feathers, I gather my energy in my arm to hurl it straight into his chest in a brutal blow. Thrown backwards, he crashes through the red brick wall, dropping his blade to the ground from the massive impact.

Considering how strong Uriel is, the most powerful soldier in the Garrison, if not in the entire Heaven, I put all my power into this strike. My only asset over Uriel is my speed, and I used the element of surprise by throwing everything into this one attack hoping to injure him enough to give me time to neutralize him and hand him over to the hierarchy.

But he rises to his feet promptly, barely impacted - in fact, my attack seems to have ignited his rage - and steps over the rubble. My drained Grace tries to regenerate as I get in a defensive posture, even though I know I have lost already. I am no match for Uriel's destructive power on my own.

His striking fist would have crushed Jimmy's face into dust if not for my aura shielding most of the damage. My entire being rings with the violence of the blow, and I instinctively strike back, drawing on what energy I have left, with much less vigor. Everything is spinning around me and the sounds are warped. My Grace is affected - I can feel myself losing my grip on reality. My vision blurs, turning Uriel into a shapeless figure with a glowing aura as a series of punches split my Grace open and make me lose control of my vessel for a second. I quickly restore the connections in Jimmy's brain to control him, just as I get slammed against a pillar that breaks down with the crash. I rise to my feet swiftly, dismissing the internal bleeding flooding my vessel's brain and organs. I spit out the blood filling my mouth with copper taste.

Uriel hasn't picked up his blade from the ground. What is he waiting for to kill me like he killed the others? Destroying my vessel and damaging my Grace won't make me change my mind, and he knows it.

He shakes his head, glaring at me in irritation and bitterness as I gather all of my Grace into my fists, halting the healing process and protection of my vessel. Uriel doesn't even try to deflect or block as I punch him in the face twice with all my energy gathered into my fists to sever his Grace from his vessel's brain.

For a fleeting moment, as I see my brother stumbling and bending in half, I think I have succeeded. But then he grabs an iron bar and...

Everything goes black and I struggle to seep back into the brain's synapses I've been kicked out of by the sheer brutality of the impact. When my vision clears at last, I am on my knees and the massive, blurry figure of my brother is walking up to me, his wings unfurled at his back. The broken trap's sigils are floating in a glowing haze all around.

Uriel is still unarmed.

"You can't win, Uriel," I force the words out of Jimmy's bloodied throat as Uriel firmly grabs my shoulder. "I still serve God."

I look up at him as I sense the crack in my skull getting worse and my lungs filling with blood. It would seem that my attacks did affect Uriel somewhat after all - this is the first time I ever see him bear wounds. The very first time.

"You haven't even met the man!" he roars.

He takes hold of my collar as I feel a cold like nothing I've ever felt before wash over me. Since the day we were created we have always been faithful to this absent Father in whose name we have committed so many atrocities, lost so many brothers in battle, without ever receiving any explanations or gratitude...

Uriel's words send me a distorted reflection of my own rebellion, my own failure to understand, my own disenchantment, everything I have been struggling with for thousands of years.

"There is no will!"

Uriel's fist crashes into my face so hard that my head is flung to the side and I would have fallen to the ground if he weren't holding me tightly. I lift my chin and try to formulate words, but fail to do so - I am paralyzed and losing control of my vessel once again. My damaged Grace is radiating with pain and gradually thickening in Jimmy's blood and organs that stop functioning.

"No wrath!"

His eyes are bright, brimming with tears as he raises his fist and punches me in the face again. My life energy is draining away from me - I haven't been this close to death since Camael stabbed me in the wing with his blade and I was dying in Uriel's arms, the same brother who is now glaring at me with raw fury in his eyes.

Why doesn't he pick up his blade from the ground and finish me off?

"No god!" he snarls through his teeth, raising his fist again.

But this time there is no punch coming, and when I look up, wobbling on my knees, the sharp end of an Angel's blade pierces through my brother's throat - it glows ominously, stained with dark blood. Anna's face and red hair loom over Uriel's shoulder as he stands there frozen.

"Maybe..." whispers Anna in a tight voice. "Or maybe not... But there's still me."

She yanks her blade from our brother's neck and steps back to watch him collapse right in front of me. She takes a few steps to join me and stands by my side while Uriel, lying motionless on the floor, stares up at the ceiling with wide, horrified eyes - a bloodied gurgle rises from his throat.

Right when his harrowing scream floods my communication channels, drowning out all of my thousands of brothers' voices, I can feel the bond between Uriel and me break. His Grace blazes, burning up his life energy into pure white light that bursts from his eyes, mouth and the gaping hole in his throat, before blasting out from every pore of his vessel's skin in a dazzling, pure surge of power.

His scream fades out and everything is dark and silent again.

Uriel is dead.

The charred pattern of his wings is imprinted on the ground - the same wings that have patted my back or wrapped me in a silky cocoon so often in the past. It fully covers the demon trap and extends across the entire wrecked place, outlining every feather.

I push my aching Grace into my vessel's muscles and slowly rise to my feet to stare at the brother - the friend - I failed to save from himself, with my fallen sister standing beside me.

I turn my head to her and meet her unfathomable gaze.

"Cas..."

I look down at her blade stained with our brother's blood - it gradually melts back into her palm, seeping through the pores to reintegrate her Grace. Now unarmed, Anna lifts her hand and hesitantly brushes my shoulder with her fingertips.

"You were wrong, Anna."

Her fingers grow still and she blinks, tilting her head to the side.

"About what?"

"It was all Uriel's doing, there was nothing wrong with the hierarchy or the orders."

"Uriel has been wanting a celestial revolt for thousands of years, he merely radicalized his methods. I came to protect you as soon as I found out what was going on in the Garrison."

I frown and stare into her eyes, growing suspicious.

"How did you find out?"

"Hester secretly reached out to me. She begged me to watch over you for her, as she couldn't leave the ranks without being reported by the others."

I close my eyes, clenching my teeth to swallow back a surge of bitterness. The touch of my sister's warm hand on my shoulder grows steadier.

"Do you know that Uriel rallied the entire Garrison to his cause?" she says softly.

"I do."

My brother is lying dead at our feet and I can still hear him telling me so, reigniting my anger over this betrayal. The entire Garrison lied to me and kept me in the dark for months. All of them, every last one of them.

If just one of them had alerted me, Levanael, Pmox and Miz would be alive and I wouldn't have made Dean go through such a humiliating ordeal. The demons would not be so close to their objective today.

"What are you going to do now, Cas?"

I look back at Anna, holding her gaze.

"They betrayed the Mission and disobeyed orders," I say sternly. "They are probably to be sent to rehabilitation, more likely to be executed."

She withdraws her hand from my shoulder and I can see the same flicker of disappointment in my sister's eyes that I remember catching when I killed the innocent survivors of the Flood. She purses her lips and raises her chin, her eyes growing cold.

"You know how powerful Uriel was, how convincing he could be. He didn't leave them a choice. You know, Castiel, I used to think there was something special, beautiful and wild about you. I guess I was wrong. The Council was right to choose you as my replacement. You are as empty and cold as they claimed when they ordered me to test your obed..."

"That's why," I raise my voice to cut her mid-sentence, "I intend to follow your example."

The anger on her human face melts like snow in the sun, and she peers at me somewhat confusedly, wiggling her wings behind her back with the hint of a smile.

"So you finally decided to join me? You won't regret it, Cas. Believe me, I have had thousands of years to ponder this. I suspect the Council Angels or Archangels have usurped our Father's authority. Together we could find out what they are hiding from us, and find our Father..."

I shake my head.

"I found my Faith back, sister. The Lord works in mysterious ways and tonight He sent you here to save the Garrison and Humanity. I have no doubt anymore. But…" I turn around and walk to the wall's rubble. "You once were an outstanding General and I had a deep admiration for you. The compassion you showed when war was raging in Heaven and you protected the rebels in our ranks made a strong impression on me. Without you, all of them would have been slain by the Archangels."

I gently pick up Uriel's blade from the ground. It feels smooth and ice-cold under my fingers and there is no trace of my brother's intense and erratic power.

"I was not able, as you once did, to protect Uriel from his own demise, nor was I able to save my greatest soldiers. At least I would like to save the rest of the Garrison. I will tell Zachariah that Uriel was the only flawed element in my ranks."

"So you're just going to keep on blindly obeying?"

I tuck Uriel's weapon into my coat, overcome with a sense of peace I haven't felt since the day I was assigned the position of the General of the Garrison.

"I will do whatever it takes to save Humanity."

When I turn back to face her, Anna is gone.

oOo

In the next chapter

"Balthazar... Why?"

"Why did I follow Uriel rather than heroically fight him and die like a martyr? That's what you mean?"