The ground beneath their feet hissed and popped, magma veins glowing between cracked earth like slow lightning trapped beneath the crust. Smoke drifted upward in lazy coils, merging with the still-roiling clouds overhead. The sky still boiling with ripples of heat from the intense battle.
Mike stood in the center of it all, chest still rising and falling in exhilarated waves. Abbadon mirrored him, arms loose at his sides, armorless torso still steaming where Mike had torn into him. Even the cooling winds that moved across the battlefield seemed to fizzle out in the heat.
Silence filled the ravaged expanse.
Then Abbadon broke it with a low, rumbling chuckle.
"That was more than refreshing, dragon," he said, stretching his neck until it cracked. "I haven't had a battle worth savoring in ages. You hit harder than Titans did back before the first heavenly war."
"Wonderful battle! Those bats fled in terror!" Bahamut roared.
Mike rolled his shoulders, flames glimmering faintly beneath his scales. "Good. I needed that shit."
Abbadon grinned. "You needed to embrace yourself."
Mike didn't deny it. "I almost forgot how good it feels to cut loose, to stop trying to play nice for humans or the gods' bullshit rules."
"And now you remember."
Mike chuckled. "Hard not to when I get to smash your ass into craters.
Abbadon laughed harder, genuine, unrestrained. "And I thank you for that fight."
"Remember that feeling of who you are and how to harness that power." Bahamut echoed in Mike's mind.
They stood shoulder to shoulder now, watching the molten horizon. There were no enemies left nearby. No wings in the sky, no demons hiding in the ash. Just them, breathing and existing in a peace made of destruction.
For a moment, they didn't speak. The silence was calm amidst the chaos and destruction surrounding them.
Mike tilted his head toward Abbadon. "So… does this mean we're done trying to kill each other?"
Abbadon snorted. "Done? Hardly. I fully intend to fight you again."
Mike smirked. "Not right now though, right? 'Cause I may actually be out of essence."
Abbadon shook his head. "No. Right now we speak."
Mike raised an eyebrow. "Speak about what?"
Abbadon's golden eyes drifted to the shattered sky and the fading portals. "About purpose."
Mike tensed slightly, Bahamut stirring inside his mind.
Abbadon continued before Mike could ask. "The angels summoned me because they thought I could be controlled. They believed Abbadon the Destroyer was a tool they could aim."
Mike snorted. "They're fucking idiots. Interfering and forcing rules on everyone."
"Oh, unquestionably," Abbadon agreed, voice light. "But their stupidity reveals something important."
Abbadon turned toward him, expression sharpening.
"They summoned me because something worse than gods and chosen and angels is coming. Something older than any of them. Something even I do not fully understand."
Mike studied him carefully. "You're talking about the war that old bastard mentioned."
Abbadon's grin faded slowly. "The war has already begun."
Mike's jaw flexed.
He felt Bahamut stir.
The dragon's voice whispered through his bones, "Listen."
Abbadon went on. "The chosen were made in response to this threat. But humanity alone is too weak. The gods know that. The angels know that. The demons know that."
"And yet," Mike muttered, "they keep trying to kill every chosen except the ones they force kneel or fear."
Abbadon nodded. "Because they are terrified."
Mike scoffed. "I thought gods didn't feel fear."
"Every creature feels fear," Abbadon said simply. "Especially when it realizes it is prey."
Mike considered that.
Abbadon continued, tone almost amused. "The angels thought they could tame me. The gods thought they could hide behind mortals and rules."
"And you wanted to kill them anyway?" Mike asked.
"Want?" Abbadon mused. "No. Kill? Of course."
Mike barked a laugh. "Fair."
"And now…" Abbadon's gaze slid to Mike's wings, still glowing faintly, "…I see you for what you truly are."
Mike raised an eyebrow. "And what's that?"
"A devourer," Abbadon answered plainly. "Not a pawn of humanity. Not a chosen bound to rules. Not even a host to your dragon."
Bahamut rumbled, amused.
Mike hummed. "You think I'm something new?"
Abbadon shook his head. "No. You are something forgotten since the gods walked the earth."
Mike frowned at that.
But before he could respond, footsteps echoed across the stone wall of Sanctuary.
The council had been debating among themselves for nearly ten minutes.
Whispers, questions, panic, none of them had answers. The atmosphere on the walls felt like a funeral that nobody knew how to leave.
Nicolas finally spoke. "We have to go down there."
Jennifer's eyes widened. "Are you insane? They just forced two armies to retreat!"
"Exactly," Nicolas replied. "Meaning if they wanted us dead—"
"—we already would be," Cyra finished quietly.
Leo stared into the distance. "He looks… human again."
Pete nodded once, voice low. "He looks like the Mike I remember. Just much worse after what we just witnessed."
Lisa swallowed hard. "So what do we even say to them?"
Nobody answered.
Eventually, they descended the staircase in silence.
Each step closer made the air feel heavier. The magical residue in the soil burned like static. Even without trying, they could feel the sheer density of power humming through the air like a heartbeat.
When they reached the broken outer field, they all stopped and stared.
Mike and Abbadon were sitting on a broken slab of glowing stone beside a lake of slowly solidifying magma, talking like two men on a porch after work.
Abbadon sat cross-legged; Mike lounged back on his elbows.
Neither looked concerned.
When Mike noticed them, his grin widened.
"Well, shit," he said loudly. "Look what crawled out of the wall."
Abbadon glanced lazily toward the council. "Ah. Chosen."
Nicolas blinked, completely unsure whether to bow or run.
A black portal appeared near the council and Mephistopheles walked out adjusting his top hat. "No vistors please, my clients are not ready for questions."
Mike frowned before flicking a blast of black and red fire at Mephistopheles. "Why are you back here? You fled like a coward and I have no business with you."
Nicolas and the other council members froze in place. Eyes wide with surprise at the appearance of Mephistopheles and Mike attacking him.
"Michael I am wounded by your words and actions!" Mephistopheles responded with exaggerated tone while placing a hand on his chest dramatically. "Are we not friends? Have I not helped you?"
Abbadon laughed at the oddly dressed demon. "Dragon you've acquired a little flea."
Mike chuckled then launched another blast of fire as Abbadon moved his arm to attack before Mephistopheles scoffed and opened a new portal. "Very rude!" He tapped his cane on the ground and disappeared into the swirling black flames.
Mike straightened and beckoned the council to come closer. "Relax. If we wanted to fight you like that fool with the top hat, you'd have been attacked already."
Jennifer visibly tried not to look at the ground, which was still full of remains and evaporating pools of blood from demons and angels.
Lisa stepped forward first. "Mike… are you okay?"
Mike blinked. "I'm fantastic."
Pete exhaled slowly. "That's the terrifying part."
Cyra stepped forward. "What now?"
Abbadon rose to his feet.
What little humor had been in his posture faded instantly.
"Now," he said, "we prepare."
The council tensed.
Mike stood as well, stretching. His wings folded behind him, flame dimming. "He's right."
Nicolas took a shaky breath. "Prepare for what?"
Abbadon eyed him. "For the third army."
The council exchanged looks.
"The angels and demons were only the first two." Abbadon pointed to the horizon. "The gods will come next. They cannot tolerate a creature they cannot control."
Lisa whispered, "You."
Abbadon smiled. "Him."
Mike cracked his neck. "They wanted to test me. See what I'd do. See if I'd break."
"And now," Abbadon said, eyes bright, "they know."
Silence stretched.
Jennifer forced out, "So you two are… allies?"
Mike and Abbadon looked at each other.
Abbadon smirked. "Temporary."
Mike shrugged. "I prefer the term 'violent coworkers.'"
Cyra blinked. "Is that supposed to make us feel better?"
"No," Mike replied honestly.
Lisa slowly approached Mike, stopping a few yards away. "After everything… are you still on our side?"
Mike stared at her for a long moment, long enough that the others reached for their weapons.
Then he shook his head.
"Wrong question."
Lisa frowned. "Then what's the right one?"
Mike bared his teeth in an amused grin. "Ask if you're still on mine."
Silence.
Abbadon laughed. "Wonderful."
Nicolas stepped forward. "Fine. Are we?"
Mike studied them.
All the pain, distrust, betrayal, they were still there beneath the surface. But something else had formed now too.
Purpose.
"We'll see," he finally said. "But you're alive. That's a start."
Leo walked forward. "So what do we do now?"
Mike turned to Abbadon.
Abbadon inclined his head slightly. "Now we rebuild this battlefield into something useful."
Pete squinted. "Like what? A graveyard?"
Abbadon smiled slowly. "No. A place to welcome the gods."
Mike's grin matched his.
While the council struggled to process that, Mike walked across the still-warm ground and crouched near a pool of magma.
Bahamut's voice rumbled through his skull again, low but unignorable.
"The destroyer speaks truth, young dragon."
Mike asked quietly, "About the war?"
"Yes. And about you."
Mike's jaw tightened. "And what am I?"
Bahamut chuckled.
It was not comforting.
"You are now what I was so long ago. You will learn more soon."
Mike stared into the molten reflection of himself.
He barely recognized the man anymore.
But for once, he liked what he saw.
Behind him, Abbadon spoke without turning. "Do not fear what you are becoming."
Mike snorted. "I'm not afraid. I just want answers."
Abbadon nodded. "Then we walk the same road. Until we get to battle each other again."
Mike smirked. "Fair enough."
They stood shoulder to shoulder again as the council approached cautiously.
Cyra finally asked, voice strained, "What do you two call this alliance?"
Abbadon grinned.
Mike shrugged.
"Convenience," he said.
"And inevitability," Abbadon added.
The council exchanged horrified looks.
Mike laughed under his breath and folded his wings. "Relax. We're not going to slaughter you."
Pete looked around at the scorched wasteland. "You say that like it's reassuring."
Mike tilted his head. "Well, you're not dead like Coyote. That's proof enough."
Lisa swallowed, voice shaking. "So what do you need from us?"
Mike turned to look at Abbadon.
Abbadon answered first.
"Time."
"And space," Mike added.
"And silence," Abbadon mused.
"And alcohol," Mike said immediately.
Abbadon nodded approvingly. "Absolutely alcohol."
The council stared.
Mike sighed. "We'll handle the fight with the gods, you need to get stronger so you don't die."
Jennifer blinked at Abbadon. "And you? What are you now? Enemy? Ally?"
Abbadon gazed toward the sky. "I am whatever the world requires me to be."
Mike grinned. "Right now? He's my ally."
Abbadon chuckled. "Ally that will tear gods in half."
Pete muttered, "Yeah. Totally comforting."
Lisa finally spoke again, voice steadier. "Then let's get you both somewhere safe to rest."
Mike shook his head. "Not here. The gods will be watching."
Abbadon agreed. "We must move deeper. Away from sight."
Nicolas exhaled slowly. "Then Sanctuary stands with you."
Mike smiled faintly. "Good. Without the attempts to control me and my family this time."
His eyes burned gold.
"…or I'll burn it down."
Everyone went very, very still.
Then Mike laughed, clapping Nicolas on the shoulder hard enough to nearly cave in his armor.
"I'm kidding. Mostly."
Abbadon laughed too.
The council didn't.
As the sun began its slow descent, staining the still-smoldering clouds purple and gold, Mike and Abbadon walked toward Sanctuary side by side.
Behind them, the battlefield steamed in silence.
Ahead, the world watched in terror and wonder.
The path forward was unclear.
But one truth had finally solidified:
Mike was no longer alone.
And gods help the universe for letting that happen.