Feathers fell upon the ground, gold and silver flashes illuminating the earth. Two figures came to a sudden halt. Each being stood upon a mountains peak facing each other. with blades in hand, the two stared intensely at eachother. This stare caused such pressure that all life between the two were extinguished.

These two are Primordial beings, Arc-Angels. Azazel wore his black armour, exuding his flame-like aura. His wicked silver blade which had once split the heavens in hand. His brother Gabriel wearing his opalescent armour held his twin short swords of golden hue. Each with wings, glorious in their own right. The mountain peaks exploded as the two rushed towards each other, blades meeting each others.

This is the story of the fallen, and what really happened. Azazel, the true Fallen. Not of his brothers transgressions, but of his own love for humanity.