The Time of Isolation Hath Come
XX
It was the distant sound of rumbling.
Closer and closer with each passing second.
The roar of some great and terrible beast and the growling of thunder.
It was a sound that echoed across the entire town.
And then there was light.
The apartment complex saw nothing, even those who had charged to their windows had not even a moment to glimpse the carnage. Some might have still been fumbling to open their phones while others charged out to run away. All manner of responses which ultimately mattered little at the very end.
Without warning and without even the time to react, they had no chance.
A lone positive was that they felt no pain when the comet of light ploughed into the building, the force alone would have turned every single brick in the structure to dust and scattered it for miles all around. Save for the heat which had come with the impact, it reduced everything to little more than a cloud of ash in less than a second.
The comet, unimpeded, continued onwards and struck the ground in the next moment, obscured in a cloud of ash and haze and pushed ever onwards. Carving a trench deeper and deeper into the asphalt and rippling through the surrounded landscape until it held no resemblance to the neighbourhood it had once been.
Nothing remained save for blackened earth and a swirling blanket of ash in the sky, thick enough that the sun was nothing more than a memory.
And the only light to be seen was a herald of a swift passing.
A grunt and the crater at the very tip of the trench burst open, the figure stumbled out of their former prison and coughed loudly, spitting out great clumps of golden blood and fragmented remains of the building they had just obliterated not even a moment prior.
It was a short reprieve, throwing up their arms to defend themselves as a second force charged into them.
This one brought fire, the scorched earth went from midnight to burning orange in less than a second. Such a short span of time that it might have been instant.
A stretch of earth a mile long, turned to magma as the fiery comet soared not even ten feet from touching down and collided with the blonde man. Carrying them both away in the same moment.
The shockwave that trailed in the wake of the attack whipped the now liquified bedrock into a tsunami, scattering it for miles all across the city. Those who were still unfortunate enough to live could only stare up in brief horror for no more than seconds before flame rained down on them from the sky. The blanket of ash served as a backdrop so that they could see the droplets of burning embers tumbling towards them with little hope of relief.
Fires blocked off escapes wherever they might have once been, mounds of rubble sprang froth in mere seconds and buried whole neighbourhoods.
There were no screams or pleas for help.
Most were dead before they even had the chance.
It was a town bathed in fire and death.
And it had taken no more than five minutes.
High above the cremated husk, the two blurs of light bounced off once another which each crash echoing loud a thunderous boom. The shockwaves fanned the flames further and further, fists striking were akin to the bellowing of a thousand cannons and held far more force than every single one of them.
The blanket of ash would part for no more than an instant before the fires of the city would smother the window of sunlight with a fresh layer of smog.
Darkness crept in.
The lights struck once more, and then the orange blur was thrown straight down, tearing through what had once been a train station in the process. Shown as such when several dozen trams were hurled back into the air and towards the second glowing orb, it descended downwards and struck the carriages with nothing more than its own body.
Metal had not even the time to shriek, reduced to base components and tinfoil scraps.
The lights struck one another on the ground, the thunderclap lifted the ruins of the station from the earth and launched them far above the cloudlayer and out of sight, but with no doubt the inevitable return down to the city again. Perhaps not all at once and not all in the same place, but it would return.
Michael knocked aside the blow meant for his head, his fist hammered down into the sternum of Maalik and rewarded him with a grunt.
He leaned to avoid a punch, countering with an elbow and a follow up kick.
It threw Maalik to the air, the burning wings caught him and launched him back into the frey, a roundhouse kick was blocked. His arms held firm against it with the faint groan of metal against his armour.
The shroud of blackness burst from Maalik's form, surging towards his eyes.
Michael pulsed light and threw it away, his fingers curled around the leg and pulled it, twisting his body around until he became a windmill. The twisting held such strength that a vortex formed around them until he stopped and released, aiming upwards and casting his brother right through the clouds in the single breath.
Legs bent and wings tensed.
He charged right after him and through the layer of cloud in the next moment, emerging in the brilliance of the evening sun and basking within it. The sea of midnight swirled underfoot, his feet barely an inch from touching the blanket. His eyes snapped towards the distant spinning shape, the fires caught it once more and it twirled around to face him.
Michael took flight and accelerated, streaks of flame raced for him in the dozens, each without even a millisecond of delay.
His will forged light around him, spears and shields all.
And he never once slowed his advance in the face of the fury.
Fires rolled over his protection, his spears shattered his enemies and his might pushed clean through until he was before Maalik himself. Michael drew his arms up and clenched them together, forming a twinned fist above his head and swinging straight down like a hammer, fully intending to launch Maalik towards the earth.
Maalik rolled backwards and flipped away, the twinned fist missing by no more than an inch.
The clouds under them were wrenched apart as the wind sucked them all straight down, a crash echoed far below as the invisible force struck the earth. The pressure holding equal might to a bomb. Michael parted his hands and launched forth into a barrage of punches and kicks.
Maalik wove and ducked between them, but only just, having to parry some aside when he was forced to do so and at clear risk. There was no hiding his grunts of exertion as he was forced further and further on the retreat.
A single spark and his fists ignited with fire, Maalik threw forth a punch which accelerated a stream of flames right past Michaels head. It hardened and twisted in shape, forming the image of a sword once more before dragging across and right towards his neck.
He ducked, the heat passed just above his hair.
His own light formed the spears once more as he caught the next thrust, knocking it aside and countering swiftly.
Maalik threw himself out of range, but only of the spear in Michael's hand.
The hundred which filled the air around them were still well within range and each of them poised right onto Maalik. With neither a sound nor a spoken signal, they moved as one and blanketed the point of view, Michael saw nothing of Maalik save for the wall of gold which descended upon him.
But he felt the surge in heat, twitched at the sudden rise in pressure.
The wall of gold shattered as flames tore it asunder, casting aside the spears and revealing Maalik.
His shroud of shadows cast aside and now adorned in a cape of flames, his mask of bone glared onto him with its own personal fire.
In the next moment, Maalik was right before him with sword held aloft, sweeping down with the intent on taking his head.
Michael jerked back and raised his spear-
The sword shattered it and continued on its path, Michael clapped his wings and dropped down, watching as the tip of the blade just glanced across the front of his robe and left a burnt scratch over the white cross before he dropped through the cloud layer, Maalik remaining right behind the curtain of smoke. His eyes became misted with the layer of dust and darkness.
But only for a moment.
Maalik emerged as a ball of flames and descended.
Michael drew his fist back and coated it, throwing it forth.
His knuckles met the sword and all seemed to freeze.
Everything about them became a vacuum for one single moment.
Then it collapsed, the air screamed and flooded inwards and the temperatures soared. For one single moment, it looked as if the sun itself and formed right in front of his eyes and cast its deadly gaze upon Kuoh. A single flash of light that would have blinded anyone who looked towards it before the shockwave rushed past and slammed into him without mercy.
The push dragged Michael down against his will or the commands of his body and everything came to a screeching halt in the next moment as he impacted the ground. Crunch of asphalt and the distant crackle of flames became his companions as he looked right up to the circle which opened up right above the city. The clear blue ring which shone over their heads, a cut out for what it might have once been.
It vanished as a wall of flames filled that void, the fires surged inwards and coalesced to a single point.
Michael closed his eyes and steeled himself.
No more.
No. More.
His eyes opened and he felt a coldness creep over him, a numb resignation to what needed to happen now.
His shoulderplates glowed until they were bright white, then they rolled across his body, soaking his form and covering him from the neck down with their embrace. The light slowly started to peel away and reveal the smooth gold which now covered his body, his armour which he had not carried since the great war.
Michael stayed silent as his wings spread and pulled him out of the crater and higher.
Slowly, he cast a look across what had once been the town of Kuoh.
Now it was nothing more than a burning mass grave.
His jaw clenched, his right hand slowly moved out away from him and his fingers curled around that which had not yet been drawn.
Space fragmented like a shattered mirror, his wrist vanished into the cracks of the world and plunged to depths unseen. He started to pull, a faint tug of resistance as the cracks widened further and further until he gave one final effort and ripped free that which he had decided to draw forth.
The world sealed shut.
A faint rumble echoed as he moved the blade and cast his eyes towards it.
It was as tall as he was and died blood red, a spine as black as night and a tip like an arrow than any ordinary blade. His eyes moved further down to the hilt, rolled gold and a grip of pure silver.
Across the black spine came the inscriptions.
Old prayers which promised only one thing.
That the sight of this blade would be the final prayer offered to sinners.
"You would draw that, here?"
He turned to the voice and looked just above, Maalik loomed up on high.
There was no alarm in his voice, nor was there shock.
It was pure and honest curiosity, or as much as his apathetic voice would allow him to do so.
"I would." Michael responded in a voice like ice. "For it is my pledge here and now that you will answer for what has been done here."
Maalik cast a slow look to the fires around them. "This sight has been repeated a thousand times over by the very beings you would now fight to join hands with. A tragedy for the innocent, but I am far from the first to stain my hands with their blood in the service of a greater good-"
"A Greater good of death and savagery." Michael cut him short. "You spoke this to me, so I shall do so to you. Look at yourself, Maalik. You claim to fight for Father and yet you wantonly destroy his children just so that might exercise your selfish desire for revenge. There can be only one form of justice for this."
"Forgiveness."
Michael straightened.
"Wh-"
Maalik was the one who cut him short. "Is that not how you approach an atrocity, Second Morning? You would allow me to languish for some centuries before I declared I had turned over a new leaf and you would welcome me with open arms? Is that not what you did with the Devils after their slaughter of so many of our brothers?"
"I have told you, the ones who did that-"
"Then Zekram is dead."
"..."
"...That sword will be put to use, Second Morning." Maalik brought forth his own sword of flame, tip pointed towards him. "For when it cuts out the cancer which has desecrated the tomb of the Heavenly Father."
Azazel bit back a curse.
For all of two seconds.
"Shit!"
He dived for the ground and tossed up a shield as he moved, but did not turn his head to see if it would hold. Fortunate that he wasted no time as a mere second later, the tell-tale sound of shattering glass rang loudly in his ears and the whoosh of a great mass moving through the air and then the rumble of it striking the ground.
Azazel twisted about and pressed off the ground, throwing himself away from the cloud of dust as it was brushed aside by the source.
Of all the things-!
Of all the cursed things!
Why did it have to be Daemons!?
The Daemon swung blue eyes onto him and glared, all he received was no more than a tingle on the back of his neck before he snapped his wings and climbed higher into the air and not a moment too soon. A brief haze and then the air where he was turned to fire and lightning in a split second.
Flashes of light formed around the Daemon, a standing line of magical circles of all sorts, and then they fired as one. A vast collection of spells of every type surged towards him without even a moment to let him get some rest.
Fire, ice, lightning, wind, energy.
It was as much a boast of raw power rather than anything else, but he was no fool.
This was akin to breathing for those monsters.
He'd lost sight of the other two but just the one in front of him was more than enough. He climbed higher and higher to escape, twisting around and leaving behind tripmines through the space where he had passed, shooting right through the centre of the lines of the attacking angels as he did so.
"The scapegoat!"
A roar met his ears, a rather incensed one at that.
Perfect.
Azazel turned about and shot towards the speaker as they moved to charge him down, raising the light spear in their hands.
He caught them by the neck and swung them both around, hurling the angel towards spells which pursued him still. The end result could not even be called messy, all that truly happened was that they vanished under the cloak of magical power before they could even let out a scream of pain or surprise. Yet Azazel was not quite so weak, which meant that if it caught him, it would hurt.
A lot.
Drawing in a breath, he stopped in the air and held his arms out above him and channeled his power into it.
A lightspear as tall as he was formed in a mere second and raced towards the Daemon.
It held out a single clawed hand and spaced shattered like it was a mirror, Azazel turned and ducked, sweeping up the back of his hand as he did so and clicking his tongue as his own spear emerged from the fractured air behind him and shattered it over the back of his knuckles.
Swiftly, he turned back around and threw out a punch.
It collided with the jaw of the Daemon, snapping its head to the side and sending it spiralling back towards the ground.
Azazel took the brief second to take stock of the monumental shit show which was happening all around them.
He'd lost sight of Maalik and Michael, but there was no hiding their battle.
Kuoh was just gone.
He'd be surprised if there was enough left of the city to fill a carrier bag by the time they were done.
"Shit!" Rarely was he one to curse like this, but it was something that warranted it.
Sweeping his eyes about, he tried to find out where the others had charged off to. Vali could certainly take care of himself easily enough and he wouldn't be shocked of the teen was currently trying to throw hands with another of the Daemons who'd charged out. But it was a mess in every way that mattered.
Angels, Devils, Fallen.
All of them were flying amongst one another in a flurry of wings and spears.
"Gah!"
It was a reflex more than pain, he twitched forwards and scowled, shooting a dark look over his shoulder towards the one who had attacked him. Spotting a small swarm of his brothers charging towards him with spears at the ready. Those who had come with Maalik and he recognised many of them.
Those who had been imprisoned for dragging down the tower of Babel.
"Out on parole, eh?!"
He called out to them, but it was a witty remark without a smile.
Truthfully, he had no time to waste on these punks.
Not when there were actual threats on the loose-
His eyes bulged as his wings suddenly felt as if they weighed as much as a mountain, he dropped straight to the ground. It was a continuous weight upon him as he fell towards the earth, snapping his wings inwards and hitting the ground in a rough heap, scowling and scrambling to his feet, raising his arms over the front of his face purely on instinct.
A fist the size of his chest slammed into his forearms and sent him skating backwards for a dozen metres, debris thrown left and right as he went. Pulling his arms down and narrowing his eyes, the Daemon charged at him once more and launched itself off the ground, throwing itself towards him.
Azazel quick-stepped to the left and threw out a dozen light spears.
The Daemon missed the tackle and staggered as the spears lanced themselves across the side of its body, finding purchase in some places and opening up slashes along the pale white skin.
It roared and twisted about, throwing a meaty arm towards his head.
He ducked under the blow and launched a fist into their chest, blasting out light as he did so and throwing them into another stumble.
Their eyes flashed for only a second and then he felt the compression of air over his chest, a gasp tore its way from his lips as he was punted through the air, the rush of wind about him as the world collapsed into colours and little else. At least for the mere seconds he was moving around.
Perhaps this would have been time for a secret weapon?
Really, he never would have expected to call upon something like this.
He twisted about and landed on his feet, catching himself along the ground-
He blinked as Serafall was launched right past his eyes, chased down by another of the Daemons and spitting a literal stream of bright red flames as it crawled on all fours like a beast.
A roar above his head, an iceberg fell through the air and turned to snow, boiling in mere instants.
Vlov was launched by an invisible force and a flurry of fireworks sent Grayfia spinning backwards to catch herself.
Katerea found herself in the unfortunate grasp of the Daemon - who clearly didn't discriminate - and was thrown to the ground as if she was nothing more than yesterday's trash.
A bellowing snarl and he ducked under the punch for his head, countering with several body shots and finishing with an uppercut to the chin. His knuckles came away bruised from the curse inlay to the body, he felt as if he had just smashed up his own chest instead and his chin now ached.
The Daemon snapped blue eyes onto him.
Fuck it.
Azazel snapped about and delivered a swift roundhouse kick to the side of the Daemons jaw, it twisted with the blow and stumbled for a couple of steps.
Meanwhile he felt like he'd just broken something and could have sworn he heard a rattle from behind his teeth. Paying no attention to it as he flashed up his hands and formed a circle right before him, by the time the Daemon turned back around, it was greeted with the sight of a smirk and a crackle of light in front of it. He released his hold on the spell-
A blur tackled his side, then followed by another.
He delivered a sharp kick upwards and dislodged the first of the escaped angels, it sent them flying from him while an elbow dropped knocked the other to the ground.
But it was a brief distraction.
A flash of light and pain burned across his chest, he staggered backwards and swung out his wings, knocking aside the beam of crimson as it rolled over his wings and shattered, sending fragments sailing towards the black clouds overhead, he hissed and skipped backwards, launching himself into another climb and glowering downwards.
Lighting warped around the body, the Daemon vanished.
Azazel widened his eyes and turned about, sweeping his hands up to protect his face, he winced as the flash solidified and the Daemon landed a haymaker onto his forearm, he fell backwards with the blow and flipped through the air, twisting about and sweeping his legs upwards, the Daemon folded over him and he pushed, driving the kick into their gut and launching them far from him.
At least until they vanished again.
He turned.
The Daemon was there with arm outstretched, he caught it on his chin and bent under the limb with his vision turning white. At least until something snagged a hold of his collar and yanked him backwards, he was driven back into painful clarity as a fist appeared right in front of his eyes and turned his face numb.
Azazel blinked up at the sky and rolled over, a hoof crunched in solid rock where he had been.
He rolled again and avoided another stamp, then he flipped backwards and watched the fist whip past his face without landing on him.
His hands whipped up and he clapped them together.
A thin aura of light washed over the Daemon like a shower of rain, drenching them and grinding their movements to a halt. A brief sense of surprise and shock washed over the skeletal features of the Daemon as he smirked at them. The binding spell lasted long enough for him to accelerate forwards and slam a fist into their face and flip them over onto their head.
It was then followed by a kick to their back which cast them down into a pit.
He clapped his hands once more and pulled forth the circle, the barrier rolled over the entirety of the pit. Sealing away the Daemon behind the dome as it burst from under the ground and slammed right into the barrier, bouncing off it with an echoing thud. It would have almost been funny in any other instance, but not right now and certainly not to him.
Raising his hands, he pressed them against something unseen and started to squeeze.
In the same motion, the sphere started to press inwards, the Daemon looked about at the shrinking barrier before turning burning sapphire eyes upon him and growling.
"I am not so easily felled, Scapegoat."
"Everyone who's about to die says those exact lines."
It was almost a cliche at this point.
But he knew they would be true, it would take a bit more than this to kill the Daemon otherwise they never would have been summoned by Father in the first place. Worse would be if he allowed it enough time to-
The Daemon went ramrod straight and closed its eyes, or as close as it could achieve without eyelids. The blue in the skull-like face went out and it lowered its head. Raising its hands slowly and then pressing the tips of its claws together.
Azazel widened his eyes as the very air started to shift.
Oh no.
The eyes snapped open.
The barrier shattered as the air expanded outwards and with it, he could see the landscape start to transform.
Shadows deepened.
But that was not it alone, there was more to it than that.
More than he could see happening, he could hear the noises, the growling and the snarling.
The shadows churned and started to twist, the barrier which contained the demon peeled open as some figment tore into it like a ravenous monster, but he looked past all of that and saw something else happening. Knew something else was happening.
He couldn't let it come to completion.
If it caught him inside the barrier, if it separated him from the others.
He would lose.
Immediately he brought forth all his strength to bear, sweeping his hands out and forming a lightspear which grew larger by the second. In no more than a mere breath it was already a hundred metres across and he swung forwards, roaring as he launched it right down to the epicentre of the Daemon and of the expanding shadow.
If he could destroy it before it could properly form…
The Daemon bellowed and snarled, the landscape reverted and the wave of light shattered like a broken mirror. The spear of light vanished into nothing and the pair of them stared at the other for a mere instant.
Azazel raced forwards and punched the Daemon in the face.
Another dozen punches followed up and then an axe kick dropped down towards their head.
It caught his ankle.
"Oh de-"
His face met the earth with a crunch, dragged back and allowed him to see a wonderful rendition of what was doubtless a stupid expression ground into the mass of debris crushed flat. He was pulled through the air and immediately twisted about, driving his heel into the side of the Daemons head and pulling with his other leg, wrenching himself free and throwing himself to the air.
The shockwaves knocked them both into a brief stagger.
Alright.
This was still winnable.
But it was really starting to eat away at his time here, and not just for himself.
He hit the ground and snapped his eyes up, the Daemon held a hand against the side of its head and staggered back for a step or two, then stepped. Pulling the hand away and glaring towards him. A large crack running across the bone like face it had, just above the right brow and stretching across the spot where their nose would be.
"That looks sore."
A wry chuckle escaped him as he pulled himself up and rolled his shoulders.
The Daemon said nothing, but it did growl at him in annoyance.
Azazel exhaled.
"Alright then, guess we won't have any fight banter. Fine with me."
This wasn't the type of opponent he could hold back against.
His aura flared, all twelve wings burst with power. It was a sudden pressure which compressed the land they stood upon, the uneven rubble and the mangled remains were crushed flat in a split second.
Though it did little to so much as even stagger the Daemon who bore the weight of his might with a mere tremble of the shoulders as though they'd stepped into a colder than average shower.
But he would have liked to see if they walked this off.
Reaching into his inner coat, he swiftly clasped hold of what he desired and pulled it forth.
"I had a whole presentation planned for this, you know? But I guess showing it off by using it to smite you would be enough of a presentation."
The Daemon glared for a moment, then snorted.
"Trifling tricks shall not avail thou."
Azazel smirked. "This is no trick."
He hoisted it up and clenched it tight.
The golden staff with a gem of deep purple, it rumbled and glowed as he chanted.
"Balance. Breaker."
And it washed over him.
His arms dropped down, he rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck.
Even in this situation, he could not help but admire the sheer genius of his craft. It was a suite of armour which fit him like a glove, as if he had been wearing it all his life. A dull golden form fitting scale male, not too dissimilar to the likes of the Heavenly Dragons, save for the gems being the deep purple.
Though the shoulder pads might have been a little bigger than he thought they would have been.
Perhaps there was still a little room for improvement.
It was only at the rumble in the air that he broke away from his own musings and glanced across to his own opponent, smiling a bit wider behind his helmet at the sight of them.
With trembling arms and a grinding of teeth, it was as though they were mere moments away from frothing at the mouth.
If the Daemon looked angered before, now it was positively incensed by what it had seen.
"Thou…wretch."
Holding out his right arm, he closed it and felt the light form across, spinning up and down until it formed the sight of a golden bident. He gave it a few experimental twirls before it snapped to a halt, he pulled it across and levelled it towards the Daemon, inclining his head back and smirking a bit wider.
"Surely you can't hate me anymore than you already did, right? What's a little emulation between a father and son?"
Come on, just a little bit angrier.
"I saw that father did some really incredible stuff and thought that I just had to give that a go for myself."
A tiny bit angrier.
"How was I ever supposed to-"
"Grrrraaaaaaa-!"
And there it was.
Azazel smirked as the Daemon charged forwards, powered by only a single step and launched itself towards him with reckless abandon. Because if there was one thing that these guys really didn't appreciate, it was anyone comparing themselves to their original summoner.
Twisting the bident about, he thrust it forwards and right towards the head of the Daemon-
Something's off.
He didn't know why he thought that in that one moment.
But it just consumed all his conscious thoughts.
Something's off.
The back of his neck ached, twitched like someone just dragged their cold fingers across.
But he hadn't felt anything earlier.
Even as the world slowed around him, even as his mind sped everything up to make logical sense of it all, there was no denying that the biggest threat in front of him was the Daemon. That was the biggest threat he could sense and he did not know of anything that could conceal itself.
So why did he feel like there was something off?
There was nothing rational about this feeling.
He just felt it.
Something was approaching him from behind, something was rapidly closing in on his neck. He did not know how he knew this but he just did.
If it touched his neck, if it landed on him.
He was going to die.
But what if it was a trick? What if the Daemon was tricking him?
He was running out of time to react, it was close now.
The back of his neck was so cold it burned.
No.
This wasn't right.
This was wrong and-
It was a flash of something in the very corner of his vision, so swift that he had no time to really comprehend what he saw but it was something.
The flash of some deep blue.
Time was up.
Azazel ducked and launched himself backwards, surrendering to whatever instincts he had and throwing himself utterly clear until the feeling abated away from him.
In the single moment he spun around, thrust his bident forwards right towards whatever was behind him.
A black sword slammed down into the top of it, sending both weapons pointed to the earth.
Azazel hadn't even a moment to blink in stupefaction before the Daemon slammed right into him, grunting as they rolled over the ground and he bucked upwards, kicking them away from his body and over the top of him, or so he had hoped. They snarled and clawed out, raking their hands across the breastplate of his armour and leaving a series of gashes in the metal.
He retaliated with a left blow to their chin, stronger than before, and easily enough to daze them.
But it was not the Daemon he was concerned with, he pressed off the ground and skipped backwards as the same black sword passed through the air where his neck had been. To the credit of the wielder, he hadn't even sensed they were there until they were mere moments away from taking his head off.
That was serious talent.
He hit the ground and met the gaze of his would-be killer.
Azazel went ramrod straight as he stared.
"...What the-?!"
It was not with words but with steel that they made their response.
They glided in silence and swung right at his neck.
It was a blow that he caught through trained reflex alone, still shocked at what he was seeing.
Rather, it was a shock that he could even be surprised at all.
No matter how hard he thought, Azazel could not make sense of it.
How was this person even-?
Hoisting up a sword which would have been as tall as a normal man, but in their hands was still a head shorter than they, he could not mistake them for anyone else, but this was just another impossibility.
First Bedivere was apparently running around and now this?!
And yet…
He felt himself go cold.
The original or not, they were all still sworn in service to one figure.
This person - or any of his sort - would never act without the command of Azrael.
…Which meant that…
He was given no time to comprehend his thoughts as his attacker launched themselves towards him with a sword aloft. He met with them with golden bident and exchanged a furious clash of blows, stepping aside as their sword struck stone and cleaved a trench through it, he ducked under the next blue which let loose an arc of sapphire light, rending the air above him with a sharp crackle.
He thrust, they countered and deflected away-
And then Azazel was reminded it was not just this one man before him.
Turning, he pushed back the taller man and raised his polearm to block, the Daemon caught it and dragged it across, pulling him with it and throwing a punch for his head, he ducked under and launched forwards, tackling the Daemon down and pulling free his spear, it was nary a moment too soon before he parried the slash of the man.
The Daemon burst with strength and unleashed a barrage of light onto him, he flashed up a shield and caught the blows against it. Removing it a moment later and stepping backwards as the man charged him once again, they collided once more and he grit his teeth under his helm.
Suddenly this was more trouble.
And he could not help but let his mind wander.
It came to one lone conclusion.
Azrael had betrayed Michael.
Romani struggled to find his balance, falling backwards after a moment and hissing as a cloud of dust rolled right over the top of him, everything blacked out and the moment he tried to draw in a breath, it felt like the dust launched an invasion into his lungs.
He paused and twisted over, hacking and sputtering.
Everything still hurt, but not in the way that it had done so.
Really, he was trying to focus more on the pain than he was on anything else.
His fingers clawed at the gravel, pulling it tight around as he balled his hands into fists and coughed once again, raising his eyes and spying the dim shine of emerald through the smoke, the familiar sight of Asia's healing powers as she worked over the next person brought to them. He grimaced deeper and deeper than before.
He should have seen this.
He should have been able to see this-
"Ooof!"
The air was knocked out of him, he was sent back to the ground as something flew over his head, it felt as though it might have been an aeroplane for all the dust it banished aside when passing over. He didn't get the chance to look up and see what it was, he just saw nothing more than flashes of light in the sky, some dropping to the ground and others launching into the air.
Another hiss broke out from the back of his throat as he struggled forwards.
There were no injuries, but he was tired.
It actually felt like he would just keel over and fall asleep any moment.
And if he was being honest, that held a certain appeal to him. Or perhaps this was just proof that he was going to snap out of bed any second now and this would all have been an unpleasant dream. That and that alone. Surely that was all it had to be…
…No.
He knew better than that.
He wasn't that lucky.
The crawling brought him right towards Asia and the other girl, Irina.
The pair of them didn't notice his presence much, not that he blamed them as their focus lay on the wounded right at their feet. Asia with her hands held out and luminescent verdant peeling away from her and soaking into the bodies. Not just of those who were part of the ORC but Romani was noticing others join them that he didn't recognise.
And some that he did.
He and Kalawarner made eye contact, neither one broke away until a rumble snapped right beside them.
A mute silence overtook, they turned and stared.
Nothing crept over the hill, that little mountain of rock and metal, but it sounded as if it was going to.
He wasn't sure anyone breathed.
Then the rumble passed away from them, as if whatever it was turned its sights.
Romani dropped a breath and hung his head low.
"Start working on barriers for this place, we need to keep it protected."
A flurry of commands from someone, he turned his head and found he didn't recognise them at all.
But they were an angel, braided dark hair and a rather long well groomed beard, the golden winged man pointed about and started to bark out yet more commands to the others, then his eyes snapped down and met those of Romani.
His expression softened in an instant, dropping down and crouching beside him, laying a hand on his shoulder.
"Take rest, young soul. None of us shall let any harm befall you now. I swear upon my name as Artiya'il."
Apparently that was all the Angel wanted as he stood and turned away, marching towards the collection of Devils and Grigori and waving his hand above his head before holding it out flat, drawing forth a collection of light as he did so and the moment his palm was outstretched, it formed a thin wall in front of them, almost translucent.
Others rose up and walked beside him, those with bat wings and with dark coloured wings.
All holding out their arms and joining the efforts and creating the barrier around them.
But Romani felt little relief.
It was still a vision that haunted him, one he had seen in that dark hole when he was trapped with Koneko. It seemed almost to be taunting him at the time, but now there was something that could be done about it. Something that someone had to do about it.
And yet…what was he to do about it?
Rolling to his back, he sat up and scooted backwards until he felt something solid rest against him, falling backwards and barely taking notice of the discomfort of whatever was now serving as a backrest. It dug into him in different places and there was probably something sharp lying within.
If it drew blood, he would not be surprised.
His eyes dropped down to his shirt, pulling aside his coat and stopping briefly as he had to give it a strong tug. Dried blood flaked away with a sharp crack, falling away from him like ice to the ground. It could have been for all he knew, he felt it sticking to his skin. The way it was pressed right up against him and just glued there.
Romani just stared at it.
What was he aiming for when he looked at it? He could not say.
It just stuck out to him.
He'd been stabbed.
It wasn't even the first time he had almost died but this was just…
Lev stabbed him.
Lev tried to kill him.
Romani slumped backwards and closed his eyes.
But he could still feel it even now, Asia had done her best and she was still working all the while as he lay there. But he could not help but grit his teeth as the pain dredged itself back up to the forefront of his mind. Something that he could not forget about and doubted he ever would.
There was no hole there, his lungs were healed.
But it still hurt.
He was always just in the way, wasn't he?
If he hadn't gone down there then Koneko wouldn't have either.
His eyes cracked open and moved towards her, she wasn't conscious anymore.
And that was his fault.
Because she'd followed him and she'd gotten hurt for it. She would have died if he hadn't tried and pulled out something at the last moment and to him it felt like a one in a million. Every possible chance that it could have failed was there, but it somehow worked. He was thankful for that alone, it had meant that even if he did die then Koneko would have been fine.
And yet…
His eyes swept over the array of faces and he frowned.
There were many missing.
He could not see Akeno or Issei.
…Or Leona.
Where was Leona?
Where was Gasper?
Tightly shutting his eyes, he bit down onto his lower lip.
They had to be safe, they were stronger than he was so they had to be safe.
…But what if they weren't?
What if they-
His eyes snapped open at the sudden noise, it was a crunch and then repeated chewing.
Brows furrowing, he turned his head to the right and then stared.
The blonde man, the God, was sitting right next to him with another packet of crisps in his hands.
"Best peace conference ever."
Romani just stared at him.
Tezcatlipoca turned for a moment, then turned again and looked at him, raising an eyebrow and shrugging. "What? I'm a God of War and Death, some of these guys have real grudges. Trust me, it's for the good of most people to let this stuff get aired out now rather than let it simmer. If there is one thing more dangerous than a guy with a grudge, it's a guy with a grudge and time to plan."
He was still trying to work out why this guy was even here.
Surely they could…do something?
A frown split over the Gods face, he raised a finger and pointed at him. "I know that look and I can guess what you're thinking. I'm not going to start taking up sides here because I get what they're both looking for. I've got no stakes in this shit so…meh."
…Seriously?
"What's your excuse?"
Romani blinked. "What?"
"You." Tezcatlipoca nudged his head towards him. "What's your excuse for lying on your ass? I told you I've got no stake in this, I just showed up. You've been stuck like a pig-"
He leaned across and drove a sharp finger into Romani's stab wound, he flinched and sucked in a breath, hunching over as it felt like he'd just been punched, or near enough, from the God and scrunched up his expression.
"-and you're not looking to get even? Hell…You were all fine with stepping up to me and the White Dragon Emperor not long ago and now you're just gonna sit on your ass when there's danger?"
…Was he?
Romani grimaced deeper at the words and turned his head away.
"If you're a coward, that's fine." Tezcatlipoca continued on, loudly crunching down another crisp. "You get those sorts. Just sit here and let everyone else do the work. Not like you'd achieve much at the end of the day but…meh. I'm gonna keep watching to see how this all plays out…Want a crisp? Good flavour."
"Crisps? Wha-?" Romani sputtered, staring at the man for a good few seconds in pure shock.
Crisps?
The guy was talking about crisps now?
He recoiled as the packet was suddenly thrust into his face and shaken about, brows pinched and eyes squinted, he stared at it for a mere moment and then looked past it and towards the blonde. The man shook the packet once again before shrugging his shoulders - seemingly unbothered - and then going back to eating it.
There was a lot he wanted to say about that.
Really, there was an awful lot.
But he clenched his jaw and turned about, pressing his hands flat against the ground underneath him and pushing upwards. It was a struggle at first to get upright, but the moment he shambled to his legs and took the first few steps forwards, he figured it would have been much easier.
He didn't need to do much.
He…no.
No.
He just needed to make sure the others were safe.
That was all he needed to do.
The ones who weren't here.
If nothing else, that was his role as a school nurse and if he failed everyone else…at least let him do this one thing right.
This one thing.
"Go get 'em." He twitched at the almost lazy cheer from behind him and pushed forwards.
Moving right towards the little area where Asia was still hovering over the others and healing non-stop, he stopped in front of them and looked down, surveying the group before he coughed just loud enough that it drew the eyes of both Asia and Irina at the same time, the former looked on in relief.
"Roman-"
"I'm going to go looking for Akeno and Issei."
The sudden look of horror that crossed the face of Asia was like being stabbed all over again and he thought she would have argued with him, she looked very tempted into doing just that.
But then she stopped.
The horror faded away and there was a sense of forlorn resignation. "...Okay."
"I'll…" Irina grit her teeth and rose upright. "I'll come with you."
Now he felt like protesting but…well…
She was probably better at all this than he was.
"Fine. Lets go."
That was a voice that came from neither Irina nor from himself, he turned towards it and then blinked twice.
"Huh?"
"I'm not letting you die before we get even."
He barely managed to get a word out before a finger was thrust right under his nose, he gazed past it to the woman in the pencil neck dress and with flowing blue hair. She was glaring him with eyes that looked still sickened with his presence, but she yanked the hand back a moment later and marched past him.
"If you want to go out and kill yourself, fine." She continued onwards, uncaring as to how she appeared. "But at least I can say I made an effort…or I can see you die from someone else. Whichever comes first but after this, if you somehow live…then we are even."
A brief twitch, then she glanced over her shoulder with a rather unpleasant grin on her lips.
"And I want to see the look on that little Devil's face when I rescue her."
…He was unsure how to respond to that.
Maybe he should have been annoyed she was essentially just doing this to bully someone and perhaps he was in a small way.
"Thanks." He nodded to her instead, giving a weak smile.
She just looked more disgusted than before.
He turned towards the angels holding the shield and called out. "We're going looking for survivors!"
The one who had spoken to him earlier briefly turned and frowned, then gave a sharp nod of the head. "May your steps be blessed with good fortune!"
He turned to the shield and stepped forwards, it peeled open like a doorway and let him outside of it first, flanked on either side by the Fallen Angel, her name was Kalawarna…or was it Kalawarner? He couldn't quite recall. Which was probably pretty bad all things considered, but that was neither here nor there.
Turning to Irina, he furrowed his brows. "Which way did you get pulled from?"
Irina raised her hand and pointed in some far flung direction. "That way!"
Romani traced her finger, then felt his heart drop.
Because of course it would be in the direction of the literal mountain of ice, fire and what looked like burning trees.
"...Yeah. She's definitely dead."
He frowned at the Fallen Angel who didn't even seem to care for him, instead she just stared with a raised brow and sniffed once before shrugging as if to say that she had said nothing wrong.
"We're going then."
He took the first step forwards and picked up the pace.
He really hoped they weren't too late.
Akeno heaved as she pulled out her free hand and thrust it forwards, lighting sparked from her fingers and fell down upon the charging Angel, they shrieked and collapsed to the ground and writhed for a moment, she continued the current until they eventually stopped moving.
But she didn't have a chance to have a reprieve before she was rolling away from a spear thrust for her head, hitting the ground with a gasp and scrambling forwards, she jumped again as the spear was hurled right towards her, she flipped over and let it glide beneath her, landing and sweeping her lone working hand upwards and firing off another bolt of lighting.
The angel dodged, it slipped past them and cracked against the stone.
Akeno grit her teeth and forced herself to move again, this time as a third angel dropped down from the sky and crashed into the ground where she had been standing not even a second ago. Her eyes widened as they whipped their fist upwards and threw a punch right towards her head, she leaned down and ducked under the blow, darting under their arm and round behind them.
They turned just in time to meet her palm against their face, a brief look of panic swept over their eyes before she flashed and turned them into a beacon of light, a cry ripped its way from their throat as the shockwave sent them twisting away from her.
"Gugh!"
And she found herself crying out in the same moment, her hand dropped down to her side and she stumbled away, feeling the pain surge across her just around her ribs. She did not need to look to know the damage of a light spear, the blow had come from somewhere and she called her wings out to carry her upwards.
Naturally, her attacker gave chase.
Because why wouldn't they-?
Another angel crashed down into the one chasing her, this one adorned in the same colours of those who came with Michael, rather than the rags of what she could only guess were prisoners and she would have never thought there would be a time she would be glad to see an Angel.
The two wrestled for a moment, the blonde newcomer had the dark haired escapee in a headlock and slammed them into the ground. Pulling back a fist and dropping it several more times, each blow with increasing ferocity until there was a wet squelch and their hand came away slick with gold.
The blonde stumbled up to their feet - Akeno realised it was a woman - and flicked her hair back, breathing out a rather sharp gasp and turning to face her, opening her mouth to speak or perhaps to ask something.
Getting tackled out of sight robbed her of that notion and before she might have even thought to give chase and help her rescuer, she found herself dodging a barrage of spears from above. Three or four at a time.
She kept low to the ground and shot a look over her shoulder, gritting her teeth as she spied them.
The pursuit was broken away when a combined force of Angels and Devils dropped right onto them and started trading punches and spears between all of them, but she did not stop moving and kept herself flying straight.
She was lost.
There was no denying that.
Cresting over the rise of what might have been the PE hall once, she rolled down to her shoulder and then fell against a rise in the earth. Breathing in and out deeply as she turned her eyes down to where she still felt the pain. She had one hand which obeyed her now, the other had gone numb and yet still burned.
It burned like she had thrust it over an open flame.
A Holy Sword wielder.
And Issei was fighting him all alone.
She sucked in another breath and leaned forwards when dust and rubble fell over the top of her, clattering against the floor. She brought her head up and swept around, looking over her small cover and narrowing her eyes, drawn to every blur of movement or flash of light in the hopes it would lead to a familiar face.
Nothing.
Even if there was someone she knew out there, the chances of actually spotting them were dangerously slim.
Slimmer of getting to them.
Another hiss rumbled in her throat and she sent a sharp look down, pulling her hand away from her ribs and the slash across her attire. She stared at the gash she had in her skin and the way it was smouldering, not so dissimilar to the old logs of a campfire, she idly considered in a morbid comparison.
It was going to continue hurting and with only one working hand, she wasn't going to last long out here.
Not long at all.
She just needed to get back to the others, or to someone like Sirzechs…if he wasn't already in the middle of fighting someone-
The world exploded with light and she was thrown backwards.
Her head was in a daze, she snapped her eyes shut and hissed as she brought her hand to cradle her forehead, pulling herself upright and blinking repeatedly to try and focus her vision, but that was just the first part of it.
What hit her?
Her world slowly crawled into focus as she stared at the mound of dust where her cover had once been, but her eyes quickly found a new target beyond that and flew wide open, details came to her quickly as she watched Vlov being tossed around like a childs toy.
The monster, standing head and shoulders taller than anyone she had ever met, had the white haired man caught firmly in its hand as it swung him around overhead and occasionally slammed him into the ground with rumbles which she could feel underneath her, again and again she watched the man strike solid ground.
A blast of frozen air slammed into its back, the monster staggered and lost the hold on Vlov.
He just flew away rather limply.
The monster turned and then staggered again as another stream hit it from the other side, this time looking like black serpents springing out of magical circles, biting and spitting at the target as it flexed its arm and broke them away, shattering them like they were made of sugar glass and throwing out its own arm.
Fireworks spread across the air in front of it before it yanked down, drawing the explosions towards itself and spinning them around.
A disk of fire surrounded the pale skinned monster as it threw its head back and roared.
Akeno did not spare it a second glance.
She turned and scrambled to her feet, spreading her wings and launching herself into the air with only the screeches and crashes behind her following her as she fled whatever that was supposed to be.
It never even occurred to her to try and attack it.
If she even could.
The monster had tossed around Vlov like he was some puppet, if it got its hands on her…
…She tried not to shudder at the thought-
Akeno gasped as suddenly a hold like a fist caught her.
It was like she was held in a giant hand, yet when she looked down there was nothing.
She was granted no time to understand or even make sense of it before she was moving against her will, gasping as she was thrown backwards and closer to the noises, her eyes flew wide as she turned her head over her shoulder in the brief few seconds she had before she made contact.
Blue eyes bore hatefully at her, then a hand as large as her torso closed around her and held tight, a face like a skull leaned forwards and breathed hot air right against her skin.
Akeno felt her blood turn to ice.
"What twisted abomination is this!?"
It roared into her face and started to squeeze around her, she opened her mouth to cry out but could not find the air to muster such a thing.
But her eyes flew to something over its shoulder and then widened.
Sapphire blue flames in the sockets of the skeletal head turned about and then rolled into the skull as a kick slammed into its chin, Akeno found herself being flung from its grasp as Vlov followed up the kick with a frenzied barrage of slashes with a serrated machete like weapon.
But she did not see the rest of it as she hit the ground and rolled to her side, though she could hear and feel it.
The shockwaves rolled over her skin from every blow.
Heat washed over her, she flinched and turned about just in time to see Vlov just combust.
Fires burst over his body and a backhand launched him into the air.
A cloud of ice and snow dropped on the head of the monster, snakes with bodies of writhing shadow swarmed around and fell inwards, shrouding the body for a split second.
It ballooned outwards and then burst under a sea of dazzling sparks.
Akeno threw out her hand and held it outstretched, it was a shield that formed over her in the hopes that it would hold back some of the shockwave. Her efforts lasted no more than a mere second, in the instant the crackling light struck her defences they broke apart like wet paper and the blast carried her backwards through the air, spinning around for such a length of time that felt eternal.
She feared she would never stop.
Then she struck the ground in a heap, bouncing twice more until she rolled to a halt.
Everything hurt.
Everything just…hurt…
Her eyes slid to the shadow standing over her and she just found herself looking up.
Another ragged angel prisoner.
This one glared down with a hatred in their eyes as they raised their hands up and brought forth a spear of light into the world.
"I saw that lighting. Spawn of Baraquiel."
…Of course.
That just made sense, didn't it?
"I do the world a favour in ending your cursed-"
Akeno did not even blink when the top half of the angel just vanished.
It was there one second and gone the next.
All she heard, if that was even the sound there, was a little wisp like a pressured tub being opened and then suddenly the angel was missing the top half of their body. She slowly leaned about and twisted her neck, watching as the legs dropped right down and then flopped backwards.
Further past, she spotted another Angel turn about.
They fell apart into chunks.
Just diced up by some unseen force and then what remained was just thrown aside as a figure stomped forwards out of the flames, flanked on either side by a dozen or so other figures.
She squinted as the lead one marched closer and closer, gathering more detail as they arrived.
Akeno very nearly laughed at the sudden appearance, but she felt more shocked than anything.
More so when the very angered face of one Lorelei Barthomeloi leaned over her and glared down, looking as if she was personally offended by the sight of her.
"Get her on her feet." Lorelei barked at someone, Akeno had not even a moment to process it before she suddenly felt hands wrap around her and hoist her upwards until she was almost on her knees, the pony tailed woman did not crouch down to eye level, instead she placed her crop under Akeno's chin and tilted her head back until they could look at one another.
"...This is why I despise dealing in Devil territory…Tell me this. Who is responsible?"
"Don't know." She slurred back and blinked out the haze.
By her reckoning, there were a few names who were involved and she doubted they were all working together right now.
And that was the truth of it all.
Lorelei scowled and whipped her crop away.
"Fine." The woman exhaled. "We will speak with someone with some more use. Take the girl."
Akeno found herself unceremoniously slung over someone's shoulder before they started moving once again.