“They’re throwing him under the bus for that?” Lucian whispered.
Some in the crowd began to stir. A few stood to cheer on the elder; others moved in a different way, as if they were preparing to pounce.
“Get ready,” Danira whispered to Lucian.
“What have you to say of these charges?” asked the lead elder.
“I say…” Gaspard swallowed hard. “That what you have said is emphatically false. The upper echelons of our Progeny, as well as the upper echelons of the Progeny of Light, know the truth, and the truth is that a war between our kind is unnecessary, yet it is encouraged by those above us. I have given you all the evidence that proves this, and those in the crowd that know how to find this kind of evidence will easily be able to do so once I have arranged for it to be distributed.”
“Come again?”
Gaspard’s head shifted up, his hair falling out of his face a little as he looked at the elder. “Do you think I would have come to you to make my statement without a backup plan? The information will be distributed tomorrow, whether I am killed or not, and those in this arena will be able to make their own decisions based on the evidence.”
“You fool…”
The lead elder wasn’t able to finish his sentence as bursts of light erupted in the crowd, the Progeny of Light appearing.
This was followed by shimmering golden portals opening up above the stadium, angels flying out of it, some riding chariots.
The battle had begun.
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Chariots and Grim Reapers
The Progeny of Life rained bolts of golden lightning toward the platform in the center of the coliseum.
It came so quickly that Lucian barely had time to press away from his seat, his MX-11 forming in his hands, Danira going for her ridiculously large energy weapon.
She hesitated for a moment; in response, Lucian moved to cover her, firing several shots at an incoming angel. He swiveled, and did the same at a Death that had come too close to them with a charged staff.
“What are you doing?” Lucian asked over her shoulder.
“I…”
He glanced quickly to see that she had taken her angel form.
Concern came over Lucian as he prepared for her to engage him, but she never did, instead of coming to his side, her weapon at the ready as she began firing indiscriminately at both Progenies.
“You can’t expect me to fight in that ghastly disguise,” she said, now in her celestial glory, the blue bar painted across her face, her wings expanding rapidly, armor cascading down arms and legs. “I’ll have it no other way.”
“Whatever works,” Lucian called forth his armor as well, which grew out of his skin, Yoshimi’s elixir instantly topping him off. “You know the plan,” he told her as a skull mask started to take shape.
Before his mask could fully cover his face, Danira pressed her neck forward and kissed him, Lucian oblivious for a moment as to what was happening around him.
If only they could stay like this, in their own little world, the periphery no longer important.
But that wouldn’t be how this played out, and he knew it.
“Right,” he said once she finished. “Good luck.”
The fallen angel was the first to blast into the battle, Lucian quickly on her tail, his two crows appearing as he conjured dozens upon dozens of injurecrows. Hugin led one flank while Munin led the other, his spherical IEDs exploding at random, adding confusion and shrapnel to the fight.
Lucian pressed back as an angel on a chariot led by energy horses tore past him, colliding with a group of Deaths who had started to work together.
One of them plummeted toward the stands, kicking up a fiery blue explosion that Lucian had to lift higher into the air to avoid.
Blasting and hacking now, he disabled as many angels as possible, Deaths too, Lucian not going for the kill as he normally would have. His only plan at the moment was to add to the turbulence of the battle, especially as he waited for his next target to arrive.
Spinning her double-headed scythe and cutting through an incoming angel’s wings, Mastima reached Gaspard, who was still bound by the chains connected to the four corners of the arena space.
She hacked at them, not able to break the bindings.
A great flareup in the center of the coliseum where the platforms were signaled that the elders were also getting involved, one of them now surrounded by a balloon of oscillating energy, from which she fired spheres at the angels.
Making eye contact with Mastima, Lucian bolted toward the first chain to his right, where he equipped Menor’s cannibalistic ax to protect him while he worked on the binding. He threw the ax into the air, the weapon cutting into an angelic opponent that was making a beeline toward Lucian and holding a trident.
His lava sword back in his hand, Lucian struck the chain again and again, the metal heating up due to the temperature of the blade. One final blow and it gave way, the chain swinging into the battle below and cracking at least one or two of the angels in the face, knocking a Death off his trajectory as well.
Spiraling forward, his cape flared up around Lucian to protect him from any debris. Lucian reached the next chain, which he also began hacking at.
He caught a searing blast from below, Danira firing on an angel that was gunning for him.
He gave her the thumbs up and continued working on the chain that bound Gaspard.
The fight was heating up to the point where it was almost a blur now, explosions, dark lines, glowing hues from the Progeny of Light, creaks and cracks as the stadium started to give way, the cries from those that were injured or soon to be vanquished.
Lucian managed to cut through the next chain, which also swung down, taking out anything it struck.
Arcing downward, he flew closer to Mastima and Gaspard, where he saw to the next chain. He was almost done hacking through it when Hashul appeared on the scene, his constant adversary cracking Lucian with his spear.
“Dammit, not now!” Lucian growled as he equipped his carbine, and mashed his finger down on the trigger. He unloaded the magazine in Hashul’s direction, an idea coming to him as the angel absorbed most of the shots.
Lucian bolted forward and as he did so his scythe materialized in his hands, Lucian slicing his opponent’s head off.
He chased after Hashul’s flying head, the angel stupidly not wearing a mask, same as the last time Lucian had engaged him.
Catching up to the angel, he grabbed the man by his hair, Lucian conjuring Grim Vacuum.
“In you go,” Lucian said as he held the man’s head out.
Grim Vacuum quickly sucked up Hashul’s head, depositing it in its protected chamber.
Lucian tapped on the chamber, smiling at the angel before sending the vacuum forward, allowing it to join the fight in whatever way it liked.
He really didn’t care anymore.
His focus returned to the chain which was preventing Gaspard from moving. He struck it again and again, the metal turning orange as it finally snapped.
From there, Lucian went to the final chain and broke it as well.
Dodging a few angels with spears, Lucian finally reached Mastima and Gaspard.
“Lucian…” Gaspard said, his eyes wide with surprise.
“Drink this,” said Lucian, conjuring his bottomless bottle of potion.
Mastima helped funnel the liquid into Gaspard’s mouth, power returning to the man almost instantly.
“Thank you,” he said, his whips made of purple energy appeared in his hands. “I trust you know what you’re doing here, right?”
“You trust, or did she catch you up?” Lucian asked, nodding his chin toward Mastima.
“Both,” said the man as he turned to the platform, where the elders continued to fight a trio swirling chariots overhead.
“Give them hell,” Lucian said as Gaspard took off, Mastima joining him.
A flash in the sky caught Lucian’s attention.
His predecessor and Leli
el had appeared, Lucian instantly rising to meet them.
“Ho! Look what you’ve caused,” said Old Death, clapping his hands. “And we’ve come just in time, lucky us. It’s beautiful. It’s what I always imagined it would look like.”
Lucian glanced down to see Danira blasting another angel trying to engage her. She then turned her weapon onto a Death who had snuck up on her from behind. Danira struck her opponent in the face with the muzzle of her weapon and then blasted a shot right through his stomach.
“Well?” Old Death asked Leliel. “Shall we, my love?”
“We shall,” she said as she equipped her golden ax.
The two took off toward the battle together, fighting both sides, stirring up quite a bit of trouble once they brought down one of the golden chariots.
A flash in the sky and Lord Lifton appeared, the blonde-haired man wielding a pair of scimitars.
Up for the challenge, Lucian bolted toward him, the man barely blocking his first attack. “You,” he said, glaring Lucian down. “You caused this!”
“No, you caused this,” Lucian said, gritting his teeth. “Anything that happens here today is on you and your kind, those at the top who wanted this war to happen. Those that tried to pin it on Gaspard.”
“You won’t live to see the end of the day,” said the powerful man as he clinked his scimitars together.
Lucian managed to avoid his first attack, but not the second, which cut his arm off.
Legs sprouted from Lucian’s arm as it fell. With a wave of his hand he quickly conjured wings on the severed arm, his appendage flying toward Lord Lifton and distracting him so Lucian could heal.
His palm aimed at Lord Lifton, Lucian shot a series of blue fireballs at the man, igniting the ends of his robes.
He conjured a tornado of wind around his body to keep any stray weapons from reaching him, Lucian continuing to summon blue fireballs as Lord Lifton attempted to deflect them.
The powerful Death managed to cut Lucian’s autonomous arm down.
Lord Lifton was just about to throw one of his blades at Lucian when Menor’s cannibalistic ax came spinning around and struck the man in the shoulder, its teeth opening as it mashed down, ripping into his flesh.
Lucian’s arm was almost completely reformed, and sure enough, checking his Soul Points showed him that he hadn’t used any energy.
Lucian equipped his plasma blowtorch and pulled the lever back, offering the leader of the Committee on Luminaries a concentrated blast of energy.
It also had the effect of melting through anything between Lucian and the man, including an angel’s wing, a Death who had been floating on top of a bubble, and a corner of the platform at the center of the stadium.
He kept the pressure on, changing the trajectory of his blast every time Lord Lifton moved, Lucian not at all paying attention to his surroundings any longer; the explosions going off all around him, the battle yells, and falling limbs.
The sheer calamity.
He caught his predecessor racing through the air above him, flourishing his blade as he collided with an angel wielding a shield and a spear, his opponent able to block his attack, but not Leliel’s, who used the distraction to appear behind the angel and cut him in half.
There were also Mastima and Gaspard, who used the celestial distractions to engage the elders, the five surprisingly weaker than Lucian thought they would be. He would have thought all this time being the most powerful entities in the Progeny of Darkness would be to their advantage.
But they fought poorly, and Lucian wasn’t surprised when one of them flat out disappeared, the coward leaving the battle to be waged by others.
“I’ll help,” said Danira, peering to Lucian’s left and also training her weapon on Lord Lifton.
“Let’s fry the motherfucker,” Lucian told her.
As these words left his lips, a purple pillar rained down from above, Azazyel suddenly floating above the battle and conjuring another pillar of energy which incinerated anything in its path.
“Shit. That’s my cue,” Lucian told Danira, a grimace forming on his face.
“I need to go with you,” she said suddenly, her eyebrows lifting to contain a sudden rush of anxiety. “I can’t let you go alone.”
“No, if I don’t make it out of this, I need you to stay alive and fix…” Lucian waved his hand at the battle. “Fix this. Of all people, you would know. Not me.”
“But Lucian…”
“We went over this. It’s what has to happen.”
He lowered his weapon and she did the same. The two embraced for just a moment before Lucian shot off into the air, aimed directly at Azazyel.
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Turners Falls
A purple pillar of energy violated the airspace to Lucian’s right, his cape fanning out in a way that allowed it to push its host away from Azazyel’s attack.
Moving as quickly as he could, Lucian reached the infamous fallen angel. Rather than engage him, he tackled the man, Lucian pressing his thumb and pinky together at the same time.
The two appeared above the bridge that led to Turners Falls, Massachusetts, Azazyel instantly hurtling Lucian to the railing.
He slapped into it, the metal and stone giving way, Lucian nearly falling to the water below.
Lucian managed to catch himself in the air and press back toward the fallen angel, just as Azazyel grew to understand his surroundings.
“Why have you taken me here?” Azazyel asked, his enormous blade appearing in his hand.
“This is the end of the line for you, asshole,” Lucian growled, his own sword appearing in his hand as well.
“You dare challenge me?”
Lucian was hoping he would say something along the lines of, ‘You and what army?” and when he didn’t, Lucian summoned his creations as if he had.
As the two stared each other down, an entire squad of Grim Mechas lifted from the water to the left of the bridge, another squad doing the same on the right, water rolling off their shoulders. All told, there were four hundred replicants, all with their bladed arms, their energy weapons aimed at Azazyel.
“You think you are clever,” said the fallen angel, not flinching in the least. “You think that you will have strength in numbers, that you, a person so new to this role that a season hasn’t even passed on Earth, will be able to defeat me. I welcome the challenge. You took my kill,” said Azazyel, referring to Yoshimi. “Taking your life will make things right.”
“A lot of people are going to be happy when you’re gone,” Lucian told him as he summoned a fleet of his spherical IEDs. “I’m talking everyone, both Progenies, probably a few injuresouls as well.”
“And no one will care when you inevitably go,” said the fallen angel.
Lucian’s replicants surged forward, engaging Azazyel, Lucian standing back for a moment as he watched it all happen.
His plan all along was to use his creations to wear Azazyel down. There was no point in charging ahead full steam, especially with Lucian knowing what the fallen angel was capable of.
That didn’t mean Lucian didn’t want to go head-to-head with the angel, but he knew better, he knew it wouldn’t end well for him if that was the route he took.
As if he were playing a video game, Lucian planned to use all of the resources he had at his disposal, even if it meant he was cheating in a way, not fighting fair.
There was no fighting fair when dealing with a being like Azazyel, who was stronger than anything Lucian had ever faced before. Anything at his disposal, including the grenade launcher he now held, or the plasma blowtorch he planned to equip later, would be to his advantage.
Ka-chunk, ka-chunk, ka-chunk.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Lucian lobbed grenades at the angel’s feet, causing more confusion.
Azazyel whipped around, cutting through Lucian’s replicants, purple pillars of energy appearing randomly and depleting their ranks. Meanwhile, injurecrows swarmed forward, taking cheap shots, occasionally cutting th
e fallen angel down again and again.
Azazyel screamed something; no sound reached Lucian’s ears as he began blasting the fallen angel with his plasma blowtorch. He moved around rapidly as he did so, avoiding any of Azazyel’s pillar attacks.
It appeared to be working well.
Even as the fallen angel continued to cut through Lucian’s replicants, his pillars were less frequent, Lucian starting to feel as if he had the upper hand.
Until Azazyel appeared behind him all of a sudden, driving his sword straight through Lucian’s body and pulling it up.
A blade emerged from his arm and he quickly cut Lucian’s head off, letting his body fall to the ground.
“You will die soon,” Azazyel said, even as Lucian’s replicants started to fly toward them, Hugin and Munin and his injurecrows following suit.
Lucian’s cape collided with Azazyel, which caused the angel to drop Lucian’s severed head.
His body was already lying on the ground by the time his head hit the bridge, first cracking the side of his face against the curb, then tumbling onto the asphalt.
The drop rearranged his skull mask in a way that it was covering one of his eyes, Lucian unable to flip his head around and move toward his body.
Luckily, two of his replicants came almost immediately, the two led by Hugin, Lucian’s most trusted creation.
They grabbed his body and dragged it over to his head, one of them lifting Lucian’s skull and quickly setting it on his neck.
From there they disappeared with Lucian into their own ranks, Azazyel already trying to find them.
“Come out!” he bellowed, cutting through replicants as they continue to swell around him, Lucian somewhere in the crowd and healing.
He glanced briefly to his Soul Points.
No change.
He was going to do this and it was going to take everything he had to make it happen.
Once he was healed up, he took off in Azazyel’s direction, appearing out of the crowd of replicants and striking the fallen angel with his lava sword.
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