In the name of all his brethren who had fallen to protect the status quo, in the name of all the younglings who had fallen to the savagery of the rebellion, in the name of all the angels and archangels who stood by him till that very moment, in the name of the Realm of Celestia, Luciel and her rebellion must be ended. He turned and faced Raphael and his camp. He met Raphael’s gaze and Raphael grinned evilly. He met Gabriel’s gaze and Gabriel flapped his wings twice. He met Uriel’s gaze and if angels could cry, Uriel would be shedding tears of joy and pride right then. He then gazed at his followers and nodded visibly.
“Angels and archangels of Celestia!” Michael called out and turned to face Luciel’s camp.
“Finish them!” he commanded. “ALL of them!”
And his camp was all-too-eager to comply.
Michael led the charge. Luciel, Zukael and Malichiel zoomed in on him with weapons drawn. Michael literally blazed through his attackers. He seized the opportunity after temporarily blinding his attackers by the flames from his body and wings to launch a perfectly choreographed attack. He drove his heel into Luciel’s torso with such force that her body slammed into some of the members of her camp, taking six of them down with her. She quickly regained battle stance but froze in mid-charge as she witnessed what Michael was doing to the best of her fighters. She gaped and gazed around. Michael’s camp was tearing down her camp with renewed zeal and improved fighting skills, knowing that their leader and archangel supreme was fighting with them. Even the younglings were fighting at levels close to, if not the same as, some of her archangels.
“ALL HAIL MICHAEL!” an angel yelled and raised his spear in the air.
“ALL HAIL MICHAEL!” many others chorused.
Michael grabbed Malichiel by the back of his neck and slammed his face into the ground with brute savagery. Malichiel was temporarily knocked unconscious as his body was hurled upwards and turned towards Zukael’s sword, which was tracing a wild arc towards Michael’s neck. Zukael dismissed the sword to avoid decapitating his ally. Michael then unleashed a brutal kick into Zukael’s groin with such force that Zukael was lifted ten feet into the air.
“What is it with me and my groin always getting smashed!” Zukael grimaced as pain possessed his body.
Zukael crashed on the ground in a pitiful heap. Michael flew towards Zukael, still grabbing Malichiel by his neck. He scooped Zukael off the ground by the neck and flew in the air before charging towards the ground and bashing both archangels’ faces into the ground. As Malichiel and Zukael were recovering from temporary blindness, Michael zipped in the air and crashed on their spines with the balls of his feet. Armor breastplates and several bones were shattered and Michael was far from done with both archangels.
Raphael, Gabriel and Uriel let the rebellion have it all. They were engulfed in a fury that they had never ever experienced before. Luciel should never have given that order. Her turn would come; but for now, she had to witness the fall of the rebellion. Not a single archangel of the rebellion stood a chance against the onslaught of this unstoppable trio. The scales had tipped heavily in favor of Camp Michael but who cared! The younglings of the rebellion witnessed Uriel, Raphael and Gabriel tear down every archangel with unprecedented prejudice. They did the most logical and wise thing by laying down their weapons before they suffered a similar fate.
“Palubiel!” Raphael called out.
“Yes, sir!” Palubiel replied and teleported towards Raphael.
“See these younglings to incarceration!” Raphael ordered.
“Aye, sir!” Palubiel beat her chest and rallied seven other angels to assist her.
“She’s a natural, isn’t she?” Uriel said.
“I like her!” Gabriel concurred.
“She’ll be alright!” Raphael chimed in, warranting stares of surprise from his friends-at-arms.
“Did Raphael just issue a compliment?” Gabriel teased.
“We have a war, archangels!” Raphael barked and Gabriel rolled his eyes.
“Let’s finish this,” Uriel said.
She dismissed her sword and summoned a spear, while Raphael summoned a spiked mace. Gabriel chose a spike club.
“I’ll go primal on this round!” he explained.
Uriel and Raphael heaved their shoulders and returned to the war.
“Move it angels!” Palubiel ordered. “We still have a war to return to!”
“Aye, madam!” they chorused as they ushered the prisoners of war away.
“Palubiel!” a familiar voice called out with rage.
“I was wondering when I would see your filthy face!” Palubiel replied.
“I have a wing to pick with you, traitor!” Niziel snarled.
“You talk too much!” Palubiel scoffed and charged.
Niziel’s severed arm had been fully restored and she fought for vengeance and pride. Palubiel did not want to strike down a youngling, but she was glad to make an exception with Niziel. So, when Niziel asked Palubiel for a dance of death, Palubiel accepted. Niziel demonstrated greater skill during their second encounter and even succeeded in drawing some angel light from Palubiel’s left cheek. Somehow both angels lost their weapons during the fight and resorted in hand-to-hand combat.
Niziel was far better with her hands than either her or Palubiel realized. Or maybe she was simply motivated by a beastly lust for vengeance. Either way, she seemed to be having the upper hand. She tossed Palubiel around until Palubiel was broken in several places. Palubiel’s healing could not even match the damages Niziel inflicted on her body. Palubiel gave her all, but Niziel was by far the better fighter. Niziel reduced her to a pathetic mess. As Palubiel lay in a helpless heap on the ground, Niziel loomed over her and summoned a spear. Niziel raised the spear and drove it deep into the joint between Palubiel’s left arm and shoulder.
Palubiel screamed as her arm was almost severed from her shoulder.
“An arm for an arm!” Niziel seethed telepathically.
Niziel grinned sadistically as she raised the spear again for one final blow. Palubiel reached for her badly wounded left shoulder with her right hand and looked into Niziel’s eyes. She saw the hatred Niziel’s eyes and the satisfaction of a vengeance that was about to come to pass. Niziel brought the spear downwards towards Palubiel’s neck with all her might. Palubiel’s timing was impeccable. She rolled over on her good shoulder as Niziel’s spear struck the ground. In a desperate bid for survival, Palubiel drove her healing shoulder on Niziel’s spear, pinning it down with her body, despite the pain that seared through her body.
Niziel had maintained such a hard grip on her spear that the sudden jerk from the spear caused her to lose her balance and stumble over Palubiel. Pain flared through Palubiel’s very essence but it was either act now or die! She used her last thread of strength and slashed upwards with the sword she had summoned during her sideways roll. Niziel’s severed head bounced off Palubiel’s head and rolled off before Niziel’s lifeless and headless body crashed into Palubiel body. Palubiel lay back and relaxed, giving her body the moments it needed for a full recovery.
Michael wanted Luciel to watch. He wanted her to see a side of him she had never seen before. He wanted her to regret her every thought, word and action. He wanted her psychologically beaten. He wanted her to be so humiliated that she would never, ever conceive of another rebellion again, assuming he would spare her existence. He wanted her to know there could be only one archangel supreme and she would never measure to him in any way, shape and literally flaming form. And as he continued battering Zukael and Malichiel away as if they were training toys, he saw it in her eyes. She had received his message loud and flaming clear. Michael would take out the rebellion, starting with the leadership. He let the mangled and limp bodies of Zukael and Malichiel drop to the ground as he glared at Luciel. Luciel met his glare and rose to her feet, with two, double-edged swords in hand. Michael grinned behind the flames spewing from his mouth and a flaming, double-edged sword formed in his right hand.
; Luciel charged at her lover. She was fueled by the prospect of defeat and a badly trampled-upon ego; but she would be damned if she went down without a fight. She swung and struck, she attacked and ducked, she parried and blocked, she attacked, retreated and attacked again. With each passing moment, that subtle feeling of an internal metamorphosis grew stronger and Luciel rode that momentum. She was getting stronger by the moment and she did not care how she did it, until the answer revealed itself to her. Somehow, she summoned the Shemsu in her and, gradually, she matched Michael in speed and strength. Michael may be archangel supreme, but they shared the tainted essence of a polarized Shemsu. Thus, whatever Michael could do, she, too, could do! Whatever Michael had become, she too, could become! It was a shift in mindset that was as invigorating and enlightening as the prospect of the renewed hope of victory.
Luciel swung her swords in parallel arcs as she spun around in a circle twice. Michael leaped in the air and brought his sword in a downward arc but Luciel evaded his attack with a forward roll. She then swiftly spun on her left knee and threw her sword at Michael’s throat but, Michael evaded the attack with a simple incline of his head. Luciel summoned another sword and charged at Michael. Michael sliced in a downward arc at Luciel and Luciel bladed herself to her left to evade the attack. But Michael immediately chased her with a sideways slice towards her neck. Luciel brought up both swords and stopped the attack. She immediately glided the sword in her left hand along Michael’s sword with the intention of taking off Michael’s right hand.
Michael let go of his sword, bladed himself to his left and he drove a left uppercut into Luciel’s sternum. As Luciel arched forward under the impact of the blow, Michael grabbed her breastplate close to her armpits. Using his body weight, he crashed into the ground and drove Luciel face-first into the ground. Luciel let go of her sword to brace herself from the fall but it was too late. Her face made impact. Michael executed a backward roll and positioned himself on top of her. A barrage of sledgehammer punches followed suit until angel light oozed from every orifice on Luciel’s head. She used her last strength to deflect Michael’s right punch and turn him over on his back so that she was now on top of him. She maintained control of Michael’s right arm in an arm bar and was about to shatter Michael’s elbow.
However, Michael sat up immediately and dissipated the pressure on his elbow long enough to wiggle himself out of the compromising position. Sensing danger, Luciel rolled away from Michael but immediately charged forward to continue her attack. She shot her right foot upwards and caught Michael in the chin. Michael rolled backwards under the force of Luciel’s kick until he resumed battle stance. Luciel was right there with a haymaker but Michael was ready for it. He blocked the kick to his right temple and the downward right punch to his left temple. He wrapped his left arm around Luciel’s right arm, locking both her right elbow and shoulder in place. He then pulled her forward and brought his right knee upwards to collide with her face. But Luciel blocked his knee with her left forearm, collapsed her left hip downwards and used her body weight to crash Michael’s body into the ground behind her. Michael let go of her right arm to take a forward roll and absorb the impact of the fall.
The two leaders went back and forth in a death match with fists of fury and swords. Luciel kept getting better and Michael had to adapt accordingly. They clashed on every aspect: their egos clashed, their bodies clashed, their weapons clashed and legacies clashed. The two archangels moved on instinct and with precision. They were the best of lovers and the deadliest of enemies and only one of them would be left standing shortly. Luciel decided to take a different route. She would capitalize on Michael’s surprise at her sudden improvement in skill. The moment to end the fight had come.
Luciel ordered all the remaining archangels to charge towards Michael. It would create enough distraction to allow her to end him. Michael was a superb fighter; the best there was. But he could certainly not withstand the onslaught of multiple, simultaneous attackers. Her archangels obeyed and so did Michael’s. The war converged around Luciel and Michael and both leaders unleashed their very best. More existences ended and Michael could no longer tolerate the loss. So he flew away from the chaos and most of Luciel’s archangels gave chase, invigorated with the misconception that he was running away.
Michael suddenly stopped, turned around and faced Luciel’s archangels. He boiled with anger and hatred for these traitors. He seethed with loathing at the loss they had caused. He snarled at the path they had taken. Enough is enough! he said to himself and waited… and waited… and waited. Mother was right, why fight it? It was pointless. As such, Michael did the one thing he wished he did not have to do. He let the darkness of Emok’s tainted Shemsu essence take over. Michael closed his eyes as everything, including the charging archangels, moved slowly relative to his perspective. He waited until the moment was perfect, the moment of complete takeover. The perfect moment came and Michael’s eyes snapped open. His lips peeled in a cold, evil and dark grin as he raised his sword in the air and pinned it into the ground.
The sound of the explosion was deafening. Luciel watched from a distance as bright, golden light erupted in every direction. It was so bright that every angel and archangel shielded their eyes from its glare. When the brightness died down, there was nothing left but the flaming form of the archangel supreme on one knee with his sword pinned into the ground. His attackers had simply disappeared without a trace as if they had never given chase in the first place. The sight was shocking and awe-inspiring for both camps; but it was definitely terrifying to the rebellion. Michael rose from his position and floated towards the crowd. One-by-one, every angel and archangel on Luciel’s camp dismissed their weapons, dropped to their knees and surrendered.
Gabriel stood over Malichiel and Uriel stood over Zukael. Luciel still had not surrendered and Raphael saw the perfect opportunity to end her. But as he charged towards Luciel, Luciel saw the pleading and supplication in the eyes of Malichiel and Zukael. They would surrender now, but they would live to fight another moment. As Raphael drew closer, Zukael’s pleading became verbal and Luciel finally dismissed her weapon and surrendered. However, Raphael did not stop. Raphael lifted his hammer; the thought of the younglings falling at the hands of her archangels, the massive losses they had suffered because of her insanity and the thought of ending the rebellion once and for all blinded him to her surrender as he brought down his hammer to end her. But his hammer struck Michael’s sword, and stopped dead in its path to smashing Luciel’s head away. Raphael whirled around to face Michael, with fury in his eyes.
“You should have let me end her!” Raphael raged at Michael. “She deserves to die! For all the ended existences she has caused! She must die!”
“I know what she has done, brother,” Michael replied. “But she yielded!”
Michael then gently placed a firm grip on Raphael’s forearm before he continued speaking.
“Ending her now would be a very easy way out for her and it would tarnish your reputation. We cannot act as if we are one of them. There is a better way, and rest assured, she and her followers will pay for their treason. When we are done with them, they will wish we had ended them this moment. Besides, we have something they do not have.”
“And what would that be?” Raphael hissed between gritted teeth.
“Honor!” Michael replied. “We cannot lose sight of who we are and what we stand for, brother. Please.”
Michael felt Raphael relax as he finally came to his senses, but he did not let go of his hammer.
“Dismiss your weapon now, brother,” Michael said as he let go of Raphael’s forearm. “The war is over… and we won!”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
JUDgMENT AND SENTENCING
CAMP MICHAEL HAD won the war. While the notion of victory was new to them, the cost of victory left a scar on the psyches of the survivors that would haunt them for the rest of their existences. Barely a tenth of Michael’s camp survived and an even smaller percentage surviv
ed from Luciel’s side. The rebellion was incarcerated in a nearby realm and were under constant supervision, pending judgement and sentencing. Michael declared a period of remembrance for all their fallen brethren on both sides of the war. As controversial as it sounded, Michael explained that even though some of their brethren had chosen to be their adversaries, they were still their brethren and ought to be remembered.
“Too many headless bodies,” said a youngling.
“Are you okay, young brother?” asked Maziel.
“I’m not sure, sir,” replied the youngling. “I’m not…”
“Come,” Maziel said and opened his arms.
The youngling walked into Maziel’s arms as if he was under hypnosis. His body was shaking and his wings drooped.
“What is your name, young brother?” Maziel asked.
“Kaziel, sir,” he replied.
“My name is Maziel.”
Kaziel removed himself from Maziel’s embrace and took a step back.
“I know who you are, Maziel Sir,” Kaziel replied. “You are Palubiel’s teacher and mentor. She’s lucky to have you.”
“We’re lucky to have one another,” Maziel said. “I see you know a lot about my number one student.”
Kaziel averted his eyes to the ground and Maziel let out a mild chuckle.
“Come now, brother,” Maziel said, slapping Kaziel on the shoulder. “I want to hear everything.”
Kaziel was even more embarrassed now. The trauma was gone, even for just a moment, which was Maziel’s intention.
“She’s a pretty one, isn’t she?” Maziel asked and cocked an eyebrow.
“She is, sir,” Kaziel replied timidly.
You are definitely not her type, Kaziel! Maziel said to himself. Definitely not!
Celestial Crisis Page 33
