The bleeding angel tumbles
Down a path of scorn and spite
Hatred: his only friend
Vengeance: his only lover.
Joy, Friendship, Peace
His mighty pillars long since shattered
He falls from the precipice of victory
Mourning monotony
His long lost king.
—Excerpt from the Celestial Archives, after the Second Fall.
The sky wept shattered armor, sundered limbs, winged corpses, and golden tears.
Explosions of divine light tore through the amber sky. The air shuddered under the weight of the cries of millions of angels locked in combat.
War had sunk its claws into Heaven.
It was the most terrifying thing Gabriel had ever seen.
The balcony railing dented under his grip. Perched up here he was safe, protected by the walls of the castle that floated above the rest of Heaven. Hundreds of thoughts ran through his mind. Chief among them being all how Lucifer of all angels could cause all this chaos. This suffering. This carnage.
Where's Lumiel? Gabriel hadn't seen him since this disaster began. If he were here, he'd know what to do. He'd—
Below, a Cherubim fought. His wings thrashed. Weaving through foes, his blazing blade hacked any dark angel who dared draw close. His halo glowed a brilliant gold—
An axe arced through the air.
The Cherubim's head flew off his neck. His corpse fell. It landed on the mountain of corpses littering the city streets.
Gabriel choked back a scream.
The railing of the balcony strained under his grip. In the center of the Holy City, the castle floated against the backdrop of the amber sky. Fortified. Safe. Far enough from the frontlines yet close enough to observe. To do nothing.
"Stay away, Gabriel. I'll fight better if I'm not worrying about you."
Michael had said before soaring into battle. Even now, the shockwaves of his clash with Lucifer rippled across the battlefield. Steady. Relentless. Heaven's strongest tearing each other apart.
Lucifer. Why would he do all this? Why would he threaten heaven's sanctimony? Abandon all he had? Hurt so many angels—
He sensed their fear calling out desperately for aid. In the haze of bloodlust and violence, their sheer, raw terror cut through to him. Gabriel's eyes darted across the battlefield. Where were they? Too many screams and broken bits of armor. Too much everything. He'd never find them. They'd die and it would be his fault and Lumiel would despise his cowardice—
"Relax, Gabriel." Lumiel had said a thousand times. "You'll never get anything done if you keep fussing like that."
A shaky breath escapes him. Right. Just like Lumiel said. He needed to calm himself. He closed his eyes. Blocked out the screams. The clang of blades. Death. Focus. Waves of divine energy were coming from the edges of the city, near the northern gates. Frail. Dim. The auras of low-ranking angels. They must be Powers. With a beat of all four of his wings, he dashed down the hallways of the castle, maneuvered past worried civilians and armored soldiers, and burst through the doors of the northern balcony.
Chaos assaulted his senses. A calming breath. Then another. His gaze ripped free from the battles of various angels and he focused on finding the Powers. Past broken statues and crumbling buildings, he saw them.
Huddled close to the guardpost at the gates were a flock of Powers. Six of them. They wore white robes instead of armor. Civilians. Stranded. One of them—their leader, it seems—stood before all the others, waves of light rippling from her body. She was calling for help. But her energy could make them a target. It was a reckless move. A desperate one.
As if to prove Gabriel's point, a dark angel burst through the wall of the guardpost. Like the others, he was clad in black armor and a mask that turned his face into a void which devoured all light.
The dark angel turned to the Powers.
They screamed.
The leader stood between him and the others. Her halo flickered wildly, and her eyes, though blurred by tears, glared at their assailant.
No No. NO. Help them—
The dark angel unsheathed his sword and charged. The brave Power closed her eyes.
"NO!"
The scream tore itself from Gabriel's throat. A bolt of blue lightning arced through the air and blasted the dark angel. Silence. Gabriel put down his outstretched hand, the blue glow of his Influence fading from his palm. The Powers looked around stunned.
The adrenaline struck Gabriel with the force of a battering ram. Dread screamed in his chest. An angel, dead. By his hand. He'd have to do it again. He stopped the tears before they could flow. No. Not here, not now. The screams and the stench of blood flooded his senses once more. He flapped his wings and soared off the balcony. In an instant, he was before the Powers.
"Archangel Gabriel!" The brave, reckless Power said. Quickly, she and her companions tried to shuffle into a bow despite the fear coursing through them.
Shallow breaths. Sweaty palms. Mind everything but calm. He smiled; they needed it. He waved a hand to look unbothered. "Disregard the pleasantries, brethren. War is not the time for decorum. Come, let's get you to safety."
Smiles bloomed on all their faces. Relief. Joy. He had to protect them. Michael said he should stay safe, but he had to do this much. He would protect these Powers. Prove that he could hold his own.
Gabriel turned to the leader. "Your name, brave one?"
She flushed. "Amaranth, oh noble one."
"We'll head for the castle. Other civilians are sheltered there. Perhaps your friends will be there." Just as he expected, the prospect of reuniting with their friends encouraged the group. Gabriel smiled. Then, his brows furrowed.
'Lumiel, right after I get them to safety, I'll find you.'