Track 02: The Pretender - Foo Fighters
Immaculara, 2.1:
They were humble homes made of wood and straw, slathered with colored mud baked by the sun, but the irony of such earthen homes in the Golden City wasn't lost on him. He understood, though. Going from the chaos and pain on Earth to the peace and serenity of Paradise was not an easy transition, but the newest arrivals would eventually realize there was more to their new existence than merely what had come before, but better.
…They were all so short, though. And their tools were so primitive; they ground flour by hand. Instruments first strung by Eve and Himself, forgotten.
The Flood had done them no favors.
He was walking among them, spear in hand like a shepherd's crook, greeting and comforting them like The Father should, when the first distant screams reached his ears. Wings of immaculate white sprang from his shoulders and carried him into the air, but there was no joy in the wind rushing through his hair and over his skin.
Blackened smoke rose in columns on the approaching horizon. A hole in the clouds, a horde of creatures spilling forth like locusts, pillaging the Golden City. He dove to meet them, and what he saw shriveled his heart in his chest.
The creatures were a meeting between man and beast, but so horrifically twisted. Horns, claws, fangs and smiles of pleasure from inflicting pain. They had set fire to the buildings constructed from Holy Will, torn souls from their reward and strung their entrails about like festive decorations as others still ravaged screaming innocents.
He fell upon them like lightning, striking forth with his spear to pierce blackened hearts and banish Sinful souls.
"Cease, defender!" A Sinner called, holding a jagged black blade to the tender throat of a young soul, her eyes spilling tears as her robes had been torn, the flesh of her breast bleeding from clawed hands, "Less you wish for them to die once more, drop your spear!" Other demons had taken hostages as well, giggling with mirth as they stared him down.
He let the spear fall from his grasp and raised his hands. "Please, stop this," he begged, "This is a place of peace and plenty! There is no need for harm here!"
The Demon scoffed. "Peace and plenty, yes, plenty to be taken and defiled! There is much harm to be inflicted, and this is but a taste! We who have been denied this Paradise, whose light would sear our souls if not for the power of our Prince! Hell will claim this place, and we will be the ones to reap it!"
As the demon spoke, his eyes were drawn to a basket tucked behind a table that had once borne bread for the taking, the lid of the woven reeds lifting to reveal a pair of fearful golden eyes.
A young angel woman.
Subtly, he shook his head and waved for her to hide once more. She looked upon the demons bringing Sin to Heaven, Himself standing before them, and the fear was erased by courage.
She flung the lid from the basket as she stood, the hungry gaze of Sinners falling upon her nubile flesh, her lips parting as she sang.
The words from the Holy Choir rang in his ears, igniting the smoldering embers of his heart, such a pure note causing the demons to cry out and recoil, clutching their heads.
He took his spear in his hand and struck them down without fear. As the Holy Light of Heaven burned their bodies to nothingness, he turned to the young angel with a smile. "Young angel," he said, "Such purity of song, such surety of courage…what is your name, that I might remember you?"
The angel looked away bashfully. In form, a woman grown, but in temperament not so. "I…I do not have a name, Lord Adam," she replied, "I was formed only days ago to take part in the Holy Choir."
"Then I shall have to name you myself, once I can conceive of a fitting title," he nodded, restraining his mirth at the awe on her face, but a scream in the distance reminded him of the ravaging of Heaven. He knelt before the young angel and offered his hand, "Young angel, I must ask; come with me. There is much evil to banish from our holy home. I ask that you sing your song of courage, that you might shrive the will of Sin from these Demons and I might banish them from whence they came. I promise you this, no harm shall come to you."
The young angel looked upon the destruction with fear, before she looked into his eyes and stood straight. "I will sing for you, Lord Adam."
"Thank you," he ran his hand through her pure white hair, taking comfort in the softness of her locks, "But I am no Lord. Merely Adam."
A frown crossed her beautiful features before it was replaced with a soft smile. "Lead and I will follow…Adam."
…Adam…
…Adam.
"Adam!"
Adam, the First Man, the Only Man on the Council of Heaven, jumped as an elbow was jabbed into his side. "Ow! The fuck, Lute?" He blinked and looked around, seeing the unimpressed gazes being sent his way. Seeing as even the Seraphim who took on a human form had multiple wings and rings of eyes, their looks were quite effective. "I was thinking about fuckin' Sinners up, what were you bitching about?"
"Your second was reporting on the events of Eradication Day," Across the table from him, Sera frowned, hands clasped in front of her all stately and shit, "And this…hotel of redemption idea from their child. You agreed to it, without the approval of this Council…explain your reasoning."
"As if he has any," another Seraphim muttered, it taking him a second to recognize him as Uriel. Most high-ranked angels were about as fun as a plain sheet of paper, but Uriel in particular was a critical douche.
I love my mask.
Adam stuck his tongue out at the Seraphim, pausing as the angel sent him an offended glare.
"…You aren't wearing your mask, sir," Lute murmured into his ear, and it was only their long years spent together that he recognized the tremble of humor in her voice.
"…Oh." He shrugged and gave Uriel the finger, a feminine voice near Sera giggling, "I got plenty of reasons, chucklenuts, good ones! Firstly, this E-Day was our most successful since the Great Culling, so we've got time to spare…unless there's some big plague or disaster on Earth, but even then. Sixty-six thousand Sinners Eradicated, which is…" Adam looked to Lute.
"Thirty percent of the population of Pentagram City, sir," she replied like the bad bitch she was.
"What Lute said," he continued, offering his second a fist bump, "The power vacuum from our ass-kickin' is gonna tie up the Overlords for long while and the Sinners heading to other cities is gonna be slowed too, so the next invasion just got delayed, hold your applause, but the biggest reason is the Big L's little Star."
"Charlotte Morningstar, yes," Another Seraphim, one with several smaller angels and cherubs floating around him writing and reading scrolls, scoffed, "Perhaps your agreement was predicated on the desires of your flesh as opposed to reason?"
Adam rolled his eyes and held out his thumb, "First, Metatron, keep my balls out of your mouth, they got drained plenty last night," Lute nodded proudly and he held up his middle finger, "Secondly, go fuck yourself, I wouldn't touch a Hellborne Hellspawned Daughter of Pure Goddamn Evil with someone else's severed dick on the end of barge pole held by someone else, thirdly I was actually getting to my reasons but you interrupted me and fourthly, finally…GO FUCK YOURSE-!"
"Adam!" Sera interjected, eyes appearing on her cheeks and shoulders, all glaring at him, "What have I said about speaking your crass language in front of Emily?"
He sighed. "…To not to."
When did you stop being the fun angel?
The youngest, newest Seraphim pouted by Sera's side. "But it's funny!"
Sera shook her head severely. "It's not appropriate, Emily," she said, before turning her eyes back to Adam. "Continue."
"Was gonna," he grunted, rapping his knuckles on the table, "It's simple: The Princess of Hell wants to redeem Sinners. Obviously, there isn't a snowflake's chance in Hell it'll work, but it presents us an opportunity. They'll be too busy pointing and laughing at the dipshhhhhtick to pay attention to us, and busy Sinners aren't copasetic Sinners. But, in the very, very, very, very unlikely chance it does work…" He spread his hands, "The Princess of Hell, Lucifer's own only crotchspawn, saves a soul…the Overlords will turn on her so fast Hell might actually spin. It presents a sliver of hope to regular Sinners that, no matter how unlikely, they'll be able to escape their contracts or Hell itself without Eradication, so all the little Sinners will flock to her hotel and their slavers won't like that at all. They'll flex their muscles, tighten their chains and squeeze until…" He mimed an explosion.
"You believe it would cause a civil war?" Uriel asked, leaning forward with a thoughtful expression.
"Obviously," Adam answered, tapping his finger against the table and wishing he could summon something to eat, but the Council had made a rule against it last time he'd gotten bored and nailed Jophiel with a balloon filled with barbeque sauce, "In that case, ol' Scratch has a few options. Either he takes his spawn's side, which would lead to every Prince turning against them, ensuring they remain deadlocked and unable to invade, or he hangs her out to dry which will demonstrate to the Princes he's not quite as in control as he says and bam, civil war. Or," he shrugged, "He could do nothing, which is the same as the second option."
"And where does your approval warrant an explanation?" Jophiel questioned, her multiple jewel-like eyes narrowed at him. She obviously hadn't forgotten the Sauce Incident.
Should've thanked me, that dress was horrible. Literally eye-searing.
Adam slapped his hands on the table and jumped up onto it, throwing his arms out. "Missy, I don't think you quite realize what we've got here!" he sang, "So just sit there and ruminate, whilst I illuminate-!"
"NO!"
At the very head of the Council, in the largest chair, was Michael, who had slammed his fist against the table hard enough to rattle the carved-from-a-single-diamond, thirty-foot long furniture and the room itself. "Musical Numbers are forbidden in the Council Chambers, you know this!" He protested, golden hair aflame, "Ever since…the Incident."
Every angel, even Emily, turned a sharp glare on the culprit…though it wasn't Adam. Instead it was another angel, though he was wearing robes made of jean fabric, the front opened to show a large golden medallion the size of a a hubcap that was also a speaker; the extremely tacky piece of jewelry was pressed to the angel's ear as he bobbed his head, pausing only to address the room. "Hey, it's not my fault you losers have no taste," he scoffed, glaring at them over his sunglasses, "And I told you a million times, I have no idea where the goats came from!"
"The Council Chambers were flooded with ink!" Metatron shot back, the gathered cherubs and smaller angels flocking around him all squeaking in agreement, "Lucille still has that tattoo!"
"Yeah dude, I mean, come on," Adam added, crossing his arms and frowning at the usually cool Seraphim, "I love ya and music in general, but Norwegian Death Metal?"
"Oh piss off, I thought we were here to listen about Adam's screw-ups, not mine!" Gabriel protested, throwing his hands up in disbelief. Then he looked to the First Man and thumped his fist against his chest twice before throwing up the Horns, "Love ya too bro, the concert still on?"
Adam returned the gesture. "You fuckin' know it."
Jophiel gave a long, over-dramatic sigh as she rubbed her temples. "I have a fashion show in an hour, can we hurry this up?!" Her eyes snapped back to the Dickmaster himself. "Get to it!"
"It's. Fuucc-really. Simple," Adam started, again, "The Prince of Lies, The First Evil Himself, Lucifer Morningstar's own daughter…honestly believes her plan will work-which was quite the surprise, I didn't expect his spawn to be capable of honesty-And no one else does. Obviously. Instead of-"
"Adam," Sera interjected, arms crossed and frowning, "Get off of the table."
He scowled down at her. He'd been getting closer to one of Metatron's ink pots and a quick flick of his toe would be all it'd take to hit Jophiel with it, just to trigger her about The Incident again. "Fine." He defiantly tap-danced down the diamond table and jumped off near his seat, clicking his heels before landing and giving a playful bow as Emily clapped. "Instead of pointing and laughing at the Ministar…we give subtle but tacit approval of her efforts, quiet support and backing, and her and ol' Scratch'll be locking horns in no time. Worst case scenario, it just makes family dinners a little more awkward. Best case scenario…"
He circled around behind Lute, resting his hands on her shoulders, repressing a smile as she minutely relaxed into his touch. "My Eradicators, the Baddest Babes, the greatest girls…Archfiends are bitch to fight though it can be done, but not even they can fight a Prince head-on, not for lack of effort," he kissed Lute on the cheek and murmured a quiet 'love you' to her, "And we all know Lucy's building his collection for another go, he all but confirmed it by confining E-Day to Pentagram City in the Pride Ring. His daughter, Charlie…I measured her power while we spoke. She, alone, is worth four Princes. At only two-hundred years old. With no souls to her name."
There were quiet gasps along the length of the table, Emily's eyes were terrified as she clapped a hand to her mouth.
"So, you wish to find a convenient time and place to remove the Hellspawn from play," Michael nodded approvingly, armored fingers tapping against his sword of solid, gilded flame.
"Not 'Remove from play,'" Adam shook his head and smiled, holding up his hands to demonstrate a board, imitating the movement of one piece, "Play for the other side."
The Seraphim traded startled looks and even Lute bore an expression of pure surprise on her normally composed face. She turned to eye Adam in concern, and found him looking at her with a warm, comforting smile. He winked casually, and she felt a bit of heat in her cheeks.
"And how, exactly, could such a move be accomplished?" Uriel asked, tenting his fingers in front of his face. "What manipulations could possibly be effective on the daughter of the Prince of Lies?"
Adam spread his hands with a smile. "That's the best part," he declared, "We do, what we always do…be the good guys. A sympathetic ear for her to air her grievances, a shoulder to cry on, a genuine rapport built on the honest desire to help the young dreamer reach for the stars. Then, when she realizes the truth, y'know, her lying father the Prince of Lies is a liar and that Hell sucks, we show her that the grass is golden and fluffy on the other side…instead of the crushed glass, used needles and shattered hopes she's used to. We foment her rebellious phase until it becomes a genuine change of heart and bam!" He slapped his hand on the table, making the Council jump, "We start tilting the scales."
The Council Chambers were silent for a long minute, and Adam kicked back in his chair with a satisfied smile.
Still got it.
"...That is…surprisingly devious yet genuine of you, Adam," Uriel finally spoke up thoughtfully, "I didn't think you were capable."
Adam clapped his hands together. "Kiss." Light swirled between his palms. "My." He opened his hands to show a small yellow donkey made of wool. "Ass." He flicked his wrist and the construct galloped down the table, braying shrilly as Emily giggled.
"Charming," Metatron rolled his eyes.
"I don't mean to be rude, bro-" Gabriel started, only for the donkey to bray loudly.
"-Eeeyonk-"
"-but why are you volun-"
"-Eeeeyonk!-"
"-teering? I mean, you're not exactly-"
"-EEEEEYONK!-"
"-the most delicate of people." He lifted his speaker-medallion and shot a wave of sound at the construct, turning it into an inflated version of a donkey, with big googly eyes and a tongue sticking out of its mouth.
"Gabriel has a point, Adam," Michael pointed out, making no mention of the inflatable donkey prancing goofily down the length of the table, its bulbous buttcheeks audibly clapping with every step even though his eyes followed it, "Your reputation in Hell, as well as your…"
"Incredibly crass demeanor," Sera interjected, a hand over her lips to hide her smile as the construct shook its head, googly eyes rattling.
"That, yes. I fear it may not serve well in this endeavor."
"That's where you're wrong, ya idiots," Adam proudly replied, hands on his hips, "Those Damned Sinners aren't gonna respond at all to calm, soothing, level tones of voice; they're all assholes-sorry Sera, they are-who respect or at least fear strength. My 'demeanor' and 'history' of Eradicating Sinners is gonna be a Me-send!"
The donkey completed its journey to Adam's end of the table, where it spun around to point its ass in his direction and squeakily farted at him.
Emily had shoved her hand in her mouth to stifle her giggles, but tears of mirth were spilling down her cheeks.
He created another construct, this time of an inflatable man wearing a bucket for a helmet with a mop for a plume, the mop-less shaft brandished in one hand with the lid of a cooking pot in the other and mounted it on the donkey. Its eyes were, naturally, just as googly as the donkey's, and the two pranced back down the length of the table, the faux-knight atop its goofy-ass steed going, "Gyuh-huh!" every other step.
Clap, clap. "Gyuh-huh!" Clap, clap. "Gyuh-huh!"
"…I'm not too sure about this," Jophiel added, arching an eyebrow as Gabriel used his medallion to create a broken-down windmill, also inflatable, the mill itself squeaking as it spun.
"Guys, gals…" Adam started smugly, "It's me. Adam. The-"
"'The First Man,'" the entire Council chorused, some more wearily than others.
The Don Qui-faux-te charged at the windmill with a shrill cry, lowering its mop to spear the imagined beast.
"The First Father," he added, still smugly, "Y'all know how many kids I had, making them was a lot of fun. You know how many ffffuuuuuggin' rebellious teenagers I had to deal with? The exact same amount as kids, funnily enough. The only other person in history who could've dealt with more was Genghis Khan, who doesn't count for what I feel should be obvious reasons."
The knight completely fumbled the charge and one of the sail-less arms of the mill hooked it from behind, spinning it around and around as it squealed. "GyuuUUuuuh-HUuuuh!"
"Seriously," Adam continued, wiggling his fingers to make the donkey dance around the base of the windmill, the clapping of its cheeks punctuated by squeaky toots as the knight continued to scream, "Who'd be better than me at fomenting some teenage rebellion? Least I know how to handle it, if by volume alone."
Metatron rolled several of his eyes. "Right, because that worked out so well with Cain."
The Council Chambers fell silent, the constructs vanishing as if they were never there. "Metatron!" Sera gasped, offended.
…What did he just say?
All of Metatron's many eyes went wide as the angels looked to Adam.
Adam stared back at him, face blank and expressionless.
The First Man said nothing for a few long, silent seconds.
Then light spilled forth from his eye sockets, searing the flesh around them black with heat. His soft feathered wings erupted into towering jets of roaring golden flame.
Someone screamed, "Adam, no-!"
…
Immaculara, 2.4:
They had slain many Sinners together; the young angel carrying Adam's spear while the First Man himself carried a scythe. One such soul they had revenged was once a farmer in life, and found peace tending fields of golden grain even when nourishment was not necessary and could be brought forth at will by angels.
Her song had stunned the Sinners with its purity and Adam had reaped them of their Sin as they reeled, and yet their numbers seemed to be without end.
"There he is!" Adam called as they flew towards the Hellportal, his finger marking the largest Demon among the invaders, "Their Prince!"
The Demon was a strange, twisted, hellish creature of taut sinew and sharpened bones, similar in shape to a Praying Mantis. He roared in triumph as he cut down an angel and stuffed a ragged wing into his maw.
"Gather the Choir, young angel!" Adam ordered, gripping the scythe with righteous wrath burning in his heart, "Together, we shall compose a concert of their destruction and our salvation!"
The young angel looked to him with worry in her eyes, but not for herself. "It will take time to gather them, Adam," she said, "Who will sing with you if not me?"
He smiled at her. "The life of one man, even The First, is not worth the desecration of Heaven. Were it to be my fate to fall today, I would do so gladly if only our home is safe. But I do not fear, young angel!" Adam reached out to stroke her hair once more, "I have faith in you and your haste! Believe that I will not fall until I have named you, as I promised. Now go! I will hold them here."
The young angel nodded her head and flapped her wings.
Adam was alone above the Sinners. He clutched the scythe in his hands and dove among them. He rent them from their limbs and reaped the Sin from their souls until he stood before the Prince of Hell. "Leave this place at once, or I shall be forced to destroy you!" He proclaimed.
The Prince merely laughed. "You couldn't destroy Cain, father, why should I believe you will destroy me, as well?" The maw of the Prince opened, and Adam beheld a face much like his own, eyes bulging from madness and cheeks dripping with blood and feathers.
"…Adama?" The First Man asked painfully.
One of Adam's many sons, named in honor of his father, laughed wickedly. "I bear a new name now, forebear! One who was a greater father to me than you ever were!"
"My name…is LUCIFUGE!"
…
A pair of golden eyes looked into Adam's own, a pair of soft hands cradling his cheeks. Despite the heat of his wings and the force of his rage battering at her, Lute stood in front of him with care in her gaze. She sang softly, the pure notes reaching his ears even over the roaring flames, and the fury in his heart began to fade. Adam sighed and slumped as it left him and she hugged his head to her chest, leading him back to his seat and sitting in his lap, still cradling him.
"…I spoke thoughtlessly and without care, Adam," Metatron said faintly, his scribes peeking out from behind his wings, "I am truly sorry."
Adam sighed into Lute's chest. "…Whatever…"
…I'm so tired.
Gabriel clapped his hands together, a shaky smile on his face. "Well, I for one think Adam's the man for the job! The First man for the job!" He laughed weakly. No one joined him. "I, uh, you know, with sponsoring the Hapsburg Hotel or whatever, we'll probably need to rejigger the Treaty just a bit, so, uh…Metabro? You'll deal with that, right?"
"Of course, I shall handle that at once," the Scribe bobbed in agreement.
Michael tapped his fingers against his sword and sighed. "Very well. Adam? We'll require progress reports, itineraries, the usual paperwork." Adam silently flashed a thumbs up, "Very well, then I call this meeting of the Council to a close. Farewell." He disappeared in a flash of flame.
Jophiel sighed breezily as she shook her hair out and stood. "Nice going Meta, he's gonna be all sulky for weeks now," she scoffed, rolling her eyes as Adam gave her the finger, "Don't forget, the new Fall collection debuts soon! Later, sweeties!" Her jewel-like eyes flashed and she vanished in a cascade of rainbow light.
Metatron simply nodded at the rest of them, eyed the First Man regretfully, then disappeared with his scribes in a rustle of paper and the smell of old books.
"Of course the Fall collection is gonna debut soon, it's almost fucking Fall," Gabriel muttered, standing up and stretching with a groan, "Er, bro, Adam…see you at the concert? There's a couple new bands I've been musing for, I think you'll like 'em."
Adam flashed him the Horns and Gabriel returned the gesture before fading away in a ripple of sound waves. He withdrew his face from between Lute's breasts, giving her a tired smile and a wink. "…Thanks, Lute," he muttered, running a hand through his already-messy hair, "Can you handle setting up training and whatnot for the other Babes? You'll be in charge while I'm gone."
"Naturally," she nodded, her fingers gently stroking his cheek, concern in her golden gaze, "Are you…?"
He sighed. "I think I'll take a walk or a fly or whatever." Adam smiled slightly and pointed at his head, "You should fix your hair before you go out, you look like a cockatiel."
Lute shook her head, white tresses still stubbornly blown back from her face. "I see." She caressed his face one more time and stepped off of his lap, bowing to Sera before flying away through a high, open window.
"Emily, you may resume your duties," Sera murmured to the young Seraphim, who looked between them with sad, curious eyes before nodding and walking out, head bowed.
Uriel had left at some point; Camael was still asleep and Raphael was too busy to even show up to most things.
It was only Adam and Sera, looking at each other across the table. The First Man and the Eldest Seraphim. Her lips tugged down into a frown. He blinked blankly, the bags under his eyes darker and more prominent than ever.
She sighed. "I hope, Adam, that this sudden desire for anything other than the Eradication of Sin after so long isn't predicated on the parentage of young Charlotte. In particular-"
"-it has nothing to do with her Whore mother," he replied flatly, a slight ripple of anger in his eyes, "It is exactly as I said. More power for the good guys. Less power for the bad guys. Yay us."
Sera shot him a skeptical look and sighed again, slumping slightly. "…Have you spoken to her? Since…the deal?"
"No," Adam's gaze sharpened, a scowl on his lips. "I haven't been within a mile of her little vacation spot. I'd rather swallow a handful of live spiders than be anywhere near the Whore." His eyes flicked up to meet hers. "…We should've destroyed her. You should've let me wipe her from existence, not shaken her hand and nodded as she abandoned her family."
Sera shook her head. "Some things are beyond even the Seraphim, Adam. You know this."
He grinned darkly, his face cast in shadow so that only his glowing golden eyes and white teeth were visible. "I would've enjoyed trying…" he hissed, a quiet clicking echoing from nowhere, the sound of dried bones rolling against each other.
…Ira vehementi…
Sera stiffened and shuddered, shooting him a sharp look. "Contain yourself!" She snapped, her hands shaking.
Adam blinked, and sitting across from her was the First Man and not the Horror of Heaven. "The hotel changes nothing. Charlie's plan, even if it works, won't put a stop to the Eradications. Perhaps it'll help, perhaps not," his eyes were overtaken with burning golden light, "One day, the gates of Hell will rattle in the wind, and all the Circles will lie empty. Whether allied or alone, by sword or by spear, by fist or by teeth, I will SCOUR Sin from existence."
The oldest of the Seraphim for which all others were titled, squeezed her eyes shut, a single tear tracing down her cheek. "…You should never have made that oath," she sobbed softly, "And I should never have let you."
Adam smiled thinly. "Yes," he said.
…
Immaculara, 2.5:
Lucifuge was correct: Adam could not bring himself to harm his son. Every time he made to strike, he remembered the boy as he was, bouncing the baby on his knee as he gurgled and tugged at his beard. The brightness in his eyes as he learned of the letters and numbers Eve and Himself had devised to explain the world. His smile as he tended the animals and painted the house.
Adam fell to a knee, bloodied and weaponless. At a click of Lucifuge's tongue, the gathered Demons leaped on top of the First Man, pinning his wings beneath their weight and giggling as they dug their claws into his flesh. "Father was right," the Prince chuckled, "Your weakness is family…though, I already knew that."
"It is…not weakness to love…your family," Adam spoke through the pain.
"As if you would know of love, forebearer," Lucifuge spat spitefully, "Had you loved us, you would've executed Cain! Had you loved us, you would've joined us in Hell, not slept in a citadel of gilded cirrus!"
"I did not know where," the First Man admitted, "I tried, but I could not find where you had left. You, and all of those whom I loved on Earth, were gone from my sight."
"Falsehood," the Demon hissed, "You know exactly how to find us." He reached behind himself and pulled forward a young angel, different from the one before. One of her wings was missing, torn off at the joint, the other snapped in half. Golden blood dripped from her back. Terrified eyes peered at him beneath matted white hair.
"Fall upon her, Adam," the Prince purred, "Take from her the purity, the hope and the blood of Heaven. Feast upon her wings and her flesh. Defile and deprave until you become…one of us. Join us…father."
Adam looked up at the twisted face of his son, the smile of anticipation on bloodied lips and the gleam of wickedness in maddened eyes. He looked to the angel, who whimpered in fear and desperation.
Adam bowed his head, for he knew what he must do.
"Weak," Lucifuge laughed, stepping over the angel, "Then I shall have to do so myself. I will keep you here, Adam, you will watch as I ravage angel after angel, soul after soul until your own blackens. If not…then I'll feast on your flesh, drink your blood and splinter your bones before I drag you down to present your soul to my real Father…"
Adam hardened his heart.
The Demon drew back his claw to impale the young angel.
"No." Adam threw out his wings and cast away the Sinners who had held him in bondage. Light shone from his body, and they recoiled in pain and fear as it seared their flesh. "No."
The young angel gasped as her wings grew back, her wounds healing as the holy light swept through her. She leapt into the sky.
Adam stood before them, tall and defiant. Light coalesced into his hand, taking the shape of a spear. He drove the butt into the clouds beneath him. "You, who would defile this reward…" His wings shimmered. "You, who would deprave innocent souls…" Thump. "You, who would deny the name of his Father!" Thump! "You, who would take the name of the Prince of Lies!" THUMP.
Adam glared at them. "You will ravage no more. You will Sin no more." His eyes had become full of gilded wrath. "And YOU! LUCIFER'S GET!" He pointed the spear at them, and a beam of light smote a line of Demons into smoke, "WILL FIND NO-MERCY-FROM-ME!"
The Choir of Heaven flew to Adam's back, the young angel carrying his spear at their front. They sang of retribution and revenge.
His wings had become silver.
…
Adam blinked. Sera knelt in front of his chair, holding his hands in hers. Tears flowed down her cheeks. "…I'm so sorry, Adam," she whispered.
He pulled his hands from hers and cupped her face, wiping her sorrow away with a sad smile. "I love you, Sera," he said, and kissed her softly, "But you don't know what it is to be human." Adam kissed her once more and rose from his seat, walking from the Council Chambers as she sobbed behind him. He pulled his mask from his pocket and ran a finger over a curled horn.
And frankly, neither do I.
He put it on and stepped into Heaven.
And was immediately ambushed.
"Adam!" Emily shouted gleefully, hands raised in a 'rawr' position as she jumped around a column, her smile fading as she looked at him. "You're wearing that thing again…"
"My mask is kick-ass!" He shot back, rubbing his cheek, "I can eat and sleep with it, modulAte mY VoIce and make whatever expression I want under it! Like this:" He made no expression, and the young Seraphim planted her hands on her hips. "See? Obviously fuuuuggin' not. Which was my point." He blinked. "…Wait, did I have a point?"
Adam smiled as she giggled at him, her mirth becoming a frown. "Awww, but Adam," she pouted, clasping her hands under her chin, her deep blue eyes getting big, "I like seeing your face! The mask is so ugly, but your face is so handsome! Can you not wear it when you're with me, please?"
Adam stared down at her.
She stared up at him.
He gulped.
Emily smiled.
…Shit.
"Ffffffine!" He sighed explosively, reaching up to pull the mask away after only a minute of wearing it. "Happy now?"
She jumped up and kissed his cheek, "Very!" She chirped, hanging between his wings with her arms around his neck, "Will you spend some time with me? It's been a long time and I've missed you…"
He shrugged, her halo pinging off of his. "Sure, why not. I'm hungry, are you hungry? I want to eat something stupid."
And that was how the First Man and the Youngest Seraph found themselves sitting on the sand of Heaven's beaches, a private one far away from the city itself, with a bucket of fried dodo between them and a small fire in front.
Adam had just finished munching a crispy breast and tossed the bones in the fire when Emily spoke up. "Hey, Adam?"
"Sup, Emi-phim?" He grabbed a thigh and bit into it, juices filling his mouth along with rich, chewy meat. The Dodo had been a joke, a bet between him and her on who could make the least intimidating animal. Her bird had won by a long shot and it was a miracle they'd survived in the wild as long as they had, being as naturally delicious as they were.
His dumb-ass lizard with a huge head and tiny arms had somehow grown to a massive size and was named after kings.
"…Why don't we spend more time together?" She wondered, idly spinning a leg bone between her palms, "I think, in the last ten years, we've only talked briefly after meetings, besides that time you brought me to one of your concerts."
"Fuc-" He coughed into his hand, "-What d'you mean? You did some training with the Babes like six months ago." Adam snapped the thigh bone in two and sucked the marrow from inside, "They loved you, by the way. Wouldn't shut up about how adorable you were trying to use a spear."
Emily flushed and tossed the bone into the fire, kicking up sparks. "Y-yeah, but you weren't there! I mean, I like the Eradicators, they were really nice, but I was there to see you. Were you…avoiding me?"
What was I even doing that night?
"Nah, I just had some paperwork to do," he shrugged, "Important bureaucratic shhhhhtuff."
She stuck her tongue out at him. "You can swear around me, you know? I'm not a child."
"Sera asked me not to," Adam replied, leaning back on his hands. "I'm spending time with you right now, what brought this on?"
Emily drew her knees up to her chest, her three sets of wings wrapping around her like a feathery blanket. "I just…you spend a lot of time with Gabriel, with the concerts and going to Earth, and then there's when you and Sera take over for Peter, you and Michael sparring in the arena, even Jophiel with her stupid fashion shows," she shuddered in remembered horror and then slumped, drawing circles in the sand with her finger, "I thought…maybe you were avoiding me…because you don't…like me…"
"I don't like you when you're being stupid, that's for sure," he said bluntly, rolling his eyes as she gasped. One of his golden wings swept underneath her, depositing her (and a load of sand) into his lap, and he hugged her. "What I mean is, no, I'm not avoiding you because I don't like you. I know Sera considers me a bad influence for some absurd fucking reason-" Emily giggled, "-but I admit I haven't been seeking you out. I…I'm not good company, most days."
She frowned up at him. "But you spend most days with the Eradicators!"
Adam answered thoughtlessly. "Yeah, but they love me."
The young Seraph gaped at him, insulted. "Wha-you think I don't?! I love you, too! You…you…" She squinted, summoning up her effort, "Asshole!"
His heart skipped a beat at her innocently angry expression and he couldn't resist the urge to kiss her forehead. "I knew I was a bad influence," Adam laughed at her darkened cheeks and shy smile, "My Babes love me in a different way, Emi-phim. I don't need you to love me the way they do, but it certainly helps the longer I'm around. I'm better in smaller doses."
"That's…" Emily frowned in thought, "Cow…shit? I…sorry, Sera." She shook her head and glared up at him. "That's stupid. You're stupid."
Adam threw his hands out. "See? The most time we've spent together in a while, and I've made you mad. My point? A-proven." He ran a hand through her long white tresses as she growled at him. "My point…my original point, I think, is that you're the stupid one for thinking I was avoiding you because I don't like you. Who could ever dislike you, Emily? And why would you ever think that, you…marshmallow…uh, brained…butter-moth."
…What? The hell did I just say?
She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "That's the most delicious-sounding insult I've ever heard," Emily muttered, her eyes sparkling, "Ooh, do you think those are real things?"
"No," he said bluntly, making her deflate, "They'd get eaten to extinction immediately on Earth. But…" He concentrated, light shimmering inside of his sleeve, "Since we're not on Earth and Heaven kicks ass-!" He waved his arm, releasing a small cloud of marshmallows shaped like moths, with wings of butter.
"Ooh!" Emily's eyes sparkled at his Creations, giggling as she waved a hand through the cloud before snatching one out of the air and shoving it in her mouth. She chewed on it happily, then slowed and frowned.
Adam ate one himself and realized why. "…Ah. Butter and marshmallow together, not the best combo," he flicked his fingers and his Creations dove into the fire, making the air smell delicious. "How about…moth-mellows." Another cloud of moths emerged from his sleeve, but they were purely made of the fluffy white treat.
"Mm, but they need something to go with them," the youngest Seraph declared, rubbing her hands together, "So maybe…peanut butterflies!" A butterfly sat on her palm, its body made of nuts, with wings of peanut butter stretching from its sides. "Yes!"
A flurry of her peanut butterflies flew from her wings and joined the mothmellows circling the fire. "Right, those go together perfectly," Adam nodded, smiling deviously, "And they hate each other!"
The two Creations started battling one another so viciously it was like something out of a war movie, except that both of the sides were made of food so it was more like them just bumping into each other. Sometimes even on purpose.
Emily gasped. "But why?"
He thought quickly. "They're…being manipulated! Yes, that makes sense, by the most terrifying figure ever conceived!" Adam thought quicker and a towering five-inch figure marched out of his sleeve and down his legs, watching the 'vicious war' with mimed laughter, "Darth…Shakolad! Eighty percent cacao, one hundred percent evil! Mwahahaha!"
The young Seraph clapped her hands. "And he's manipulating them because he…wants a maiden! Made of…! Pure…milk?" She held out her palm and a feminine figure in a dress, completely white and sloshing oddly raised its arms as if pleading to the sky.
"Sure, why not?" Adam shrugged, using his legs and his robe as a table, "The milk maiden, desperate for a way to stop her…er, people? From fighting, searched high and low for a way to defeat the devious Darth Shakolad, eventually finding…" he created a 'stone' with a sword sticking from it, which the maiden grabbed and pulled free, "The legendary sword of heroes! Graham! But oh no, she found she couldn't hold it for long, because it would get…soggy!"
Emily laughed at the faux-horror in his voice. "She knew she could only use the sword as a last resort, so when she confronted the Darth, she used fire magic!" A tongue of flame leaped from the fire to engulf the chocolate figure, though why a pure maiden made of milk would know such magic went uncommented on.
Adam made some of the mothmallows and peanut butterflies fly down and combine with the melting mess, growing them together until it resembled a (very delicious) blob monster. "But oh no! She forgot he was strong against fire types, and he had become s'more powerful than she could ever imagine!" The blob of chocolate flung a ball of peanut and marshmallow at the milk maiden. "She had to resort to her final, desperate attack-!"
"Holy Hand Grenade!" Emily shouted, pointing a finger. A thin lance of holy energy shot from her nail and hit the monster, causing it to explode. Chocolate, marshmallow and peanut butter rained down around them, most of it getting in Adam's wings as he covered her head. "Hehehe…whoopsie."
The First Man sucked his teeth. "She was supposed to use her Graham cracker sword, actually."
She grinned up at him and used a finger dipped in melted chocolate to boop his nose. "Plot twist!" She teased.
He created some crackers, scooped up some of the mess of melted sweets and shoved it in her mouth. "'Plot twist' that!"
They laughed and ate far too many s'mores to be healthy, making up ideas about the future adventures of the milk maiden and whether she'd ever find love. Tragically, her life would be cut short when they got thirsty from the salty peanut butter.
Eventually, the fire had burned down to embers. Adam sat by the smoldering pit, arms around Emily as she snored against his chest, her head tucked under his chin. With a sigh, he slowly stood from the sand and let holy fire wash over them, burning the remaining mess away. His golden wings softly extended and carried them gently into the air and away from the beach.
…
In the dark of the night, lit only by a shade of the moon, a pale woman walked soundlessly across the sand. She found a fire pit, still gently smoldering. Next to it was a plate, a pair of fried dodo legs spread wide to accommodate a trio of chocolate, peanut butter and marshmallow smores, with a folded card atop it.
It bore two words: Fuck You.
She snorted and sat in the warm depression Adam had left, and ate her favorite meal with a smile.
…
Adam set Emily in her bed and pulled the blankets up to tuck her in. He brushed a hand through her hair and kissed her cheek, though as he turned to leave he found his sleeve tugged back. The young Seraphim was blinking blearily at him. "Did I wake you? I'm sorry."
Emily shook her head slowly, eyes glazed with sleep. "Adam…you should grow your hair out," she said.
He arched an eyebrow at her. "You think?"
"Yeah," she nodded, eyelids fluttering, "Sera told me you had long hair once, she showed me a prism…when you first ascended."
"It's been a long time since then," Adam murmured, stroking her hair once more.
Emily's breath deepened. "Adam…?" She sighed, half-asleep.
"Yeah?" He whispered.
"You know…I love you, right?" Her eyes closed and she fell back asleep.
Adam smiled. "I know, Emily."
I just wish I was worthy of it.
He clicked his fingers, losing height until he was only six feet tall, his robes becoming plain. He tucked his wings, still stubbornly gold, under the white sheet and walked down the road. Emily lived near the Creative District, right near where the bakeries were located. She loved the smell of fresh bread in the morning.
His eyes roamed the road, taking in the many buildings and varieties on offer; once upon a time, the Golden City had been more of a Golden Town, and once upon the first time, it had only been the Council Chambers and his home. Nothing else but a sea of clouds, stretching out into the horizon…
…
Immaculara, 2.6:
The battle was short. The Demons, as all cowards, could not stand against the might of Heaven combined. The song of the Heavenly Choir deafened and debilitated them, even the Prince screaming in pain as his Sinful flesh bubbled and cracked.
Adam attacked with his spear of light, piercing the Prince many times until he kneeled, bleeding and beaten. Adam drove his weapon into the heart of Lucifer's Get, and the Hellportal wavered and snapped shut.
Bereft of their Prince's protection, the invaders fell through the clouds, screaming as they burned away to nothingness.
Only that which had once been Adama remained, slowly dissolving in the light. "What, Adam?" The Sinner spat, clutching the ruin of his chest, "Too weak to finish it? Or are you showing 'Lucifer's Get' mercy?"
Adam looked down at what had once been his child, and shook his head. "…Bask in the light at least once, my son, and know peace." He turned to walk away.
The young angel carrying his spear turned to look at him, relief in her eyes. Relief that turned to horror. "Adam!" She shouted, and hurled the spear at him.
The First Man jumped aside and cried out as a claw that would've impaled his heart was instead driven into his side. The Prince snarled in victory for only a second, and then the spear pierced through his head and he burned away into nothing.
Adam fell to his knees, clutching his wound. "Adama…" he whispered, and he wept for what his son had become.
The young angel clasped his face in her hands and sang, the pure notes drifting into his ears and healing his body. Seeing him renewed, she smiled at him and left to retrieve his spear.
Adam looked at his hand and frowned. When had gold come into his blood?
The young angel offered him his spear, but Adam refused. "Keep it," he said, holding aloft his weapon of holy power, "I have another. Together, we worked splendidly, young angel, and your voice…" She blushed at his smile. "You are a true instrument of Heaven…instrument…"
He remembered the idea of it; a long neck, six strings of sinew and a body made from a dried gourd treated to last. He had composed such songs with it and sang them to Eve and his children, to their delight.
"Lute, I name you, after the most important instrument I ever created," Adam declared, and it was as such.
The young angel, Lute, looked to him with love in her eyes. "Thank you, Lord Adam."
"I am no Lord," he declared again.
"Who else could have denied the Prince?" She asked, waving to the clouds they stood on, "If not a Lord?…Adam. Sir."
…Sir…
…Sir?
"...Sir angel?" A woman's voice pierced his recollection.
Adam blinked and found himself staring into his reflection in a bakery window. A woman stood next to him, a cute thing with apple cheeks and poofy hair. "I'm sorry, what?"
She smiled at him, fluttering her eyelashes. "You've been staring at me through the window for the last fifteen minutes," she informed him, holding a small box out, "We're closed now, but I wanted you to have one. They're my specialty."
He cracked the box open to peek inside and found a cupcake with frosting shaped to resemble a pig. "…That's fuckin' adorable," he chuckled, grinning at her, "Thank you…"
"Molly," she nodded, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear as she ducked her head, peering at him through thick eyelashes, "My friends and I are heading to a club…would you…?"
"I can't, sorry," Adam shook his head but offered his hand. She took it and he bent to kiss her knuckles, "Thank you, though. I'll visit when you're open."
Molly giggled and waved as she left with a group of other Winners. Adam watched them go and then spread his wings, taking to the air as he headed deeper into the center of the Golden City. Her balcony had no doors or windows, so it was simple for him to slip inside.
Sera was twisted up in her sheets, moaning fitfully and crying in her sleep as she clutched a pillow. He heard his name in pained whispers, and Adam felt his heart squeezed by an invisible hand. He left the box on her nightstand before kissing the Seraphim on the cheek, diving out of the window before she could be roused.
He flew to his own area, a section of the City he had claimed for the Eradicators. He let his disguise melt away as he went, and ignored the gasps of the Winners who looked up and saw the First Man flying overhead. He arrived in the training yard and skidded to a stop, sighing deeply as he approached the door that led to the relaxation areas, living rooms, bedrooms and such, then kicked it open. "Boom, baby!" He crowed, throwing his hands up like a returning champion, "Guess who, Bitches?!"
The majority of the Eradicators jumped in shock, as several of them had fallen asleep waiting for his return, scattered around the living area on beanbags, chairs and couches.
The number of avenging angels varied. Some Irregulars only joined up with the Host during E-Day to avenge their wrongful deaths or even just to destroy Sinners to blow off steam, then left afterwards and only trained a few times a year. The full-time Eradicators, his Badass Battle Bitches, numbered around fifty and lived with him in the compound.
Not 'around' fifty. Fifty-three exactly, and I know all of their names.
Fifty-three angels, including Lute, stood to greet him though with dampened enthusiasm. Adam eyed them warily. "...What? This better not be another 'surprise bj tournament.' I mean, I loved it, don't get me wrong, but I also couldn't feel my legs for a week afterwards," he winked at one angel in particular, "Pansy, still the champ."
The angel laughed at the disappointed frowns on her sister's faces, but the mirth was short-lived. "Adam?" Rebel spoke up, looking at him through a white braid that covered half of her face, rubbing her arm, "We…we don't like you spending more time in Hell."
"Not without us," Terminator added, her white hair kept up in a pair of ox-horn buns, "That place fucking sucks even on E-Day and…the idea of you being down there, surrounded by Sinners…"
"Even with the Treaty in place, who knows what they'll try to do to you?" Pansy added, worrying her lip.
"Don't go, Adam," Gladii, a pair of angel twins a head shorter than the others, pleaded in unison, "Please? We all love Lute, but…she's not you."
Adam looked at the many teary eyes and concerned faces and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "God…fucking…dammit, girls," he muttered, "You know I have a hard time resisting you…" He eyed Lute, "What about you, Babe? You agree with them?"
His oldest companion smirked slightly. "I agree with the sentiment, Sir." Her face twisted in a scowl, "That traitorous bitch will be there, too. I find it…disquieting to think of you being vulnerable around her."
"Pfft," the First Man scoffed, "As if-" he teleported behind Lute and slapped her on the ass, "-I would-" he did the same to Gladii, "-fuckin' stay-" Rebel spun around before he appeared, and he smooched her, "-in Hell-" Pansy jumped backwards, and he caught her in his arms and spun her around, kissing her neck, "-any longer-" Terminator caught the spinning Pansy, then squealed as he squeezed her ass, "-than I-" Thrash jumped to dodge his smack and landed in his arms, kissing him full on the mouth, "-fucking-" Ficus had bent over to present an easier target, and he slapped her behind gladly, "-have to-" Walker had pressed herself against a wall, so Adam honked her nose, "-dumbass!"
After giving each of the fifty-three angels his affection, he teleported back in front of them. They were all smiling, but none of them seemed convinced. "Still…" Edge started, playing with the end of her long French braid, "We love you, Adam, we don't want you to be gone for so long."
He sighed even as he smiled. "Alright, listen up you needy, needy bitches," he threw his arms out, "It's me. Adam. The-"
"THE DICKMASTER!" His lovely ladies chanted.
"Damn right!" Adam crowed, "Who forced Luci-fuck into creating the Treaty…by Culling millions of sinners?!"
"WE DID!" They cheered.
"WHO HAS STORMED HELL EVERY YEAR FOR TWO THOUSAND YEARS?!"
"WE DO!"
"WHO-alsodoesn'twanthislovelygirlstospendmoretimeinHellthancompletelyfuckingnecessary?"
"WE-er, wait, what?"
He deflated, slumping over to hug Lute. "Girls, I gotta be honest, I don't want any of my beautiful birds to spend longer than necessary in Hell, even if it would make me feel better to have any of you, all of you, with me." He pulled the angels into the warm embrace of his arms and his wings, holding them tight, "I know you don't want me in danger and I love that you care, but being frank, I'm much safer than any of you in Hell. It's not an insult, just a fact, and you know it."
Charity clutched onto his arm, looking at him with tears in her eyes. "B-but, Adam…!"
Adam stroked her hair as she buried her face in his robe along with others. "…Alright, girls, I'll bring-" A raucous cheer went up from the gathered angels, though it was cut off as he gently flexed his power, "-six of you, including Lute, to Hell tomorrow, but just this once. I might bring some of you at other times, we'll see."
They groaned in disappointment.
"Fuckin' deal with it yourselves," he ordered, before pausing, "No bj tournament, I need to sleep."
If I can.
As the gathered angels first debated what game to play then started playing, Adam set his robe aside and crawled into bed with Lute curling up on top of his chest. Eventually, the others figured out who was going and joined them. They usually slept in a cluster-flock on his massive bed and Adam himself was ten fucking feet tall, so there was plenty of room for them to use him as a pillow, and his wings were larger still.
He stroked Lute's hair as she slept, staring at the darkened ceiling in silence. The angels snored, but even in sleep they still brought the music of the Holy Choir and their soft breaths were as enchanting as any lullaby. Sleeping and silent, they were still some of the loveliest creatures ever created as they were when they were awake and active.
Even in death, they were beautiful.
…
Immaculara, 2.7;
Adam stood with Lute and looked over the field of battle. With the Prince dead, the corpses of the invaders had fallen through the clouds and dispersed, leaving only the fallen on the side of Heaven. Angels and innocents alike, stolen from their reward and left to bereave those who loved them.
"Lute, if you would please, gather the fallen with your brothers and sisters," Adam asked, his heart heavy with grief, "Learn their names, that I might carve them into the walls of the Council Chambers so that we remember those who were stolen this day."
Lute looked to Adam with tears in her eyes. "But Adam," she said, "Many were like I. Formed only days before, and with no name."
He bowed his head at the loss of pure innocence. What should have been a time of joy and peace had become one of pain and suffering. "Gather the nameless angels," he declared, "Bring them before me that I might name them, if only that they are known this once."
Immaculara, The Record of Adam, First Man: When Adam ascended into Heaven, the Seraphs granted him wings of purest white. Through his deeds did they become golden.
End Track 02
…
…
…
…
…
…
(AN: This story is currently up to chapter 3 on AO3 and 5 on my Pat-reon. This chapter's been completed for a couple weeks, as I was waiting for FF to fix their shit before posting.)
A/N: …Whoops, I did it again. What can I say except that this story has grabbed me tight and isn't too keen on letting me go. Much less swearing this time, too.
Two days, it took me, to write this chapter (notes not included) from start to finish and I was working one of them. Time of starting: morning, May 18. Time of finishing: nighttime, May 19.
I should make it clear, the Immaculara peppered throughout the chapter isn't just a narrative device, Adam is experiencing the events described in the present. It's a little something called Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.
It is, also, a narrative device. Adam's nearly ten thousand years old, the man's seen some shit.
A lot of this fic is based on something unfortunately vanishingly small in the source material: reason. As I said in my last notes, people and the world itself are generally more reasonable, but that applies to the backstory I've constructed too.
Adam has golden wings for a reason.
Adam is generally an asshole for a reason.
Adam's called 'The Horror of Heaven' for a reason.
And so on.
I'll admit that I think this may be some of my best writing. It's got laughs, it's got horror, it's got sadness, it's got the good feels and the bad feels. I thought up the Don Qui-faux-te thing while I was at work, and I probably looked like a nutbar laughing for no apparent reason.
Also, shout outs: the delicious insult of 'Marshmellow-brained buttermoth' is something I first saw in AkumaKami64's 'Uncle Adam,' and some of the names and traits for the Angels are from Zer0the0mega's 'Hell Is Forever' though just names and the occasional surface trait.
Give both of them a read if you haven't!
Next Track will focus on the Hotel and the disastrous first day, with the majority of the story taking place in Hell.
I would like it known that I got to use the words 'he defiantly tap-danced down the diamond table' and that pleases me greatly.
Big thanks to NSG as usual for being that guy (that's right, he's him.) Check him out and let him know Sol sent you.
Also thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter. I hope you enjoy this one as well!
Stay Awesome!
~Soleneus
P.S.: Seriously it won't let me go someone send help.
Also, here are the names for all of the Eradicators, which I came up with randomly and with no real reason other than I thought it was funny:
Lute, Pansy, Rebel, Terminator, Gladii x 2, Thrash, Ficus, Walker, Edge, Charity, Match, Tensei, Australia, Omen, Carol, Juno, Diana, Silvie, Brook, Creek, Cardamom, Bastille, Zilch, Norn, Ophelia, Yari, Sarah, Fate, Geist, Solemn, Xi, Heck, Modal, Quaint, Ubel, Verity, Proche, Freya, Twins, Gluteus, Sanguinara the Devourer of Blood (Devo), Left, Right, Robin, Pine, Hinata, Summer, Winter, Autumn, Spring, Mary.