"To die peacefully while surrounded by the wonder of a dream... the landscape of fantasy. How truly marvelous~"
The sweetness of his voice began to enter the halls of the cathedral, arms together and hidden in the heaviness of his robes. Women and men alike obeying his silent command for them to shed him of the clothing he'd worn, so he could reveal the muscular shape he'd trained to attain. Each new step drenching the bottom portion of his foot in the red palette of gore, puddles of blood splashing to cover another side of the platform below him. Kneeling for his body to become engulfed in their shadow originating from the darkness of their cloak, a simple snapping of locks had allowed the wind to enter this sacred location. Their demonic appearance began to overwhelm the idea of pureness in this ancient church, followers shivering in fear as they fell over in terror quaking and frightened. Illusions of their messy, torturous demise began to enter their brain, those vivid images sending them to collapse to their knees. Holding their chests, one of the female apostles couldn't help but heavily pant at the thought of her torture. Searching for something- ANYTHING!
To end the mental suffering she was enduring, she managed to wrap her fingers around a singular lonely rock, bashing her brains into it. Ongoing rapidly, so more blood would spill out from the pores and holes in her face before her skull would appear- without any remaining strength to finish off the job... she fell right over. Leaking out a pool of blood, her bones began to snap and contort, moving erratically as the subject let out a final gasp of air. Satan's towering figure was larger than life itself as if their very presence could rip apart a human just from the way they looked at you with their many assortments of eyes.
And the worst thing about it? They hadn't even looked at anyone yet... all they did was stare straight ahead, the cloak moving with their body so they could warp to the stained glass showing the story of their opposite. Turning their head as they looked over the tale of the Almighty Deity that gave birth to this universe, Satan couldn't help but laugh at the thought. Just the simple ideology that the Beloved God they worshipped was nothing more than a Malevolent Demon gone mad with control and power. Their hand emerging from the torn cape so it could press against the usual podium the pastor would preach upon, the Devil watched as it decayed from their very touch. Stepping away from that, they began to walk at a slow rate, gradually returning to where they were summoned as they began to move forward to the kneeling Subject. Telepathically connecting the brain of the Demon to all pathetic unworthy humans, the halls they passed shrouded in darkness.
Circular pillars that held together with the ceiling and the structure of this place slowly decaying for the light of the moon to shine upon the sinners. Tearing and ripping apart their skin as the Devil of Earth began to speak, this time without the usual glitchy feeling. Their booming voice filled with a mature tint to it as they began to softly inform of the truth behind their so-called 'Savior's history,
"{Do you groveling humans believe this to be the truth? The lies that the generations-long past has buried into the dirt, do you believe their words to be construed as true so easily? The God you worship, believing Him to be so worthy of praise, of preaching, so that everyone will hear the 'good deeds' that He's worked so hard to commit. For the sake of the humans... isn't it ironic? A God with infinite power cleansing the Earth with waves from the sea, or a mass murderer wiping those who don't fit into His plan while keeping only those who follow His word alive. Doesn't that remind you of someone? The GOvernment you used to worship, the tyrants you condemn for committing genocide, and yet you praise and follow a God who has no trouble doing the same acts? Humanity is twisted and cruel, worshipping those above them as long as they have the power to influence and control them. If the power to think was erased from your trivial minds, you insignificant pieces of gravel would fall to your minds and kneel before the Almighty Demon of Knowledge. You bow before anyone who possesses even the tiniest sliver of superiority over you. Humans complain and complain over and over about the most useless of situations that only you have the power to contain... this world is inconsequential. Only with its purging and true chaos will the Universe begin to unravel into the glorious wings of peace. You beings are that of sin and only sin. Thy Blessed Emperor of Longing, the Young Rivera, will show you the way... the Lost Requiem which exists between the Seas of Time. How truly marvelous. And you, who seeks the power of the Angels and the demons to accomplish your goals- will you seek him out for me? My sheep...?}"
Another puppet to manipulate, as the chapel turned to nothing but ash, the claws of the Devil began to hover around the top of the long-haired man. As this male began to rise his head, you would hear him sobbing with a content smile plastered right over his lips as he laughed. As if he couldn't contain his excitement for the mission he was chosen for. All it took was a flick to the chest, the tip of their sharpened claw piercing the chest of this mere weakling for the unleashed Takyr to spread throughout his body. Arms and legs beginning to crack as his skin folded in on itself, he touched his face before his appendages and limbs began to hit the ground beneath him. Chants of the demons and the choir of the demons celebrated this lovely sight, as the pastor began to hover- his feet sliding off from the grass the structure was previously sat upon... Satan, for the first time in thousands of years, opened their mouth,
"I bid thee welcome to this new destination you've been welcomed into. Ye lambs of the ungodly God born of Man, enjoy this transformation as the sacrifice commences. The tearing of flesh as skin is ripped from born, the beginning of a Requiem for thy's will is none but their own. Constructed from the laws of determination, with the power vested in me by the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit- that which console and are intertwined with the ideology of Evil in this twisted world we inhabit. I awaken the Angel of Darkness, that which is destined to bring about the shadow of Chaos and Death to all which is known to man, the Harbinger of Death. The one chosen by the Right Hand of the Father and the Left Hand of the Demon, I hereby name you-
THE WINGS OF DARKNESS! AZRAEL!!!"
It was waking up from a nightmare, throwing himself up with a cold sweat drenching his entire body in fluids, Ben's breaths began to turn ragged and quick. Searching for air to keep up with his repeated breathing before a simple touch to his back had calmed him down, the surge of serotonin causing his chest to return to its usual state. That being; every so often, raising and then lowering in accordance to controlled inhales with exhales, Rivera slowly began to turn. Before her words had sent him back to staring right at the wall ahead, shelves riddled with memories and treasures from the past. The Emperor listened to her calm words, the reassuring speech of his wife, Cecilia's speech pattern was unusual. For someone like him, a beast, an abomination capable of wiping out entire worlds... a monster, she treated him as someone he hadn't believed he was in a long time. Human.
Her fingers traced along with the scars and bruises on his back from the many battles and wars he'd endured, the Emperor listened with his hand on his face fingers dug into his curls of brown,
"From the day I'd met you, I'd realized how much trouble you were. How dangerous you were, not because of your powers, but because... of how you were. You didn't choose to end up like this, our fates were strung up and manipulated by the Puppet Master of this foul game. You're not an Emperor, not a Requiem, and you're definitely not a God. You're still just a lost boy who doesn't know where it all got so confusing, searching for the Answer for why she had to die. You're not a Chosen One, and you're not special... no one is, not anymore. We're all just adrift souls in a world whose sole purpose is only to die. Darling, you did what you had to, not because you wanted to- because you were forced to by Beings beyond this Universe. You are the only one with the strength to end all of this, my love. If not for yourself to avenge your mother once and for all, then for the family you've formed that's stood by your side through thick and thin,"
Human... still in the depths of his powerful soul, continually harnessing the Requiem energy around the depths of his spirit, he was human. Ben turned around so he could press his lips against her own for a brief second, Ceci smiling at the kiss before he decided to lay back with her. The tarot card of the Emperor levitating out of his chest as she snuggled her face into his side, the husband with his wife slept together as the night went on. Wondering how many lives they'd have to sacrifice, how he'd live with that, how he even slept at night. How he operates in the morning living with the sins of his past and the future's malicious deeds in the near distant streams of time. No one could predict what was to come, not anymore- the only one who could be Uraku, and not being split off from his Temple, courtesy of the one he once called Father so graciously; he was as blind as the rest of these sheep.
Speaking of the Former Guardian, the Father of the Triplets on a balcony watching over the city's lights from afar as they glistened, continuously flickering as they shone onto his face. The presence of that puppet began to echo in his eardrum, reverberating in the depths of his soul and body. Without a look of fear or fascination, Uraku began to turn his left to the left, the Evil that oozed right off of their body only available to the Son of God. Holding nothing but a hate-filled stare into the many eyes of this creature, soft growls began to leak out from the tusks of the Incarnation. Face to face with this creature, Satan faced their rival's firstborn, in the flesh, the Devil began to kneel as the Guardian prepared to attack. Obeying the next words that infiltrated his command, he held his head and let out a subtle grunt through closed lips,
"{Burn,}"
Unable to maintain an astral body in the Temple, he revitalized his spirit form to curve around the soul to form a body of flesh and bone. Holding his chest with a tiny gust of wind radiating out as he touched his chest with such incredible pressure, the Guardian heard the tiny steps of his distant demonic relative press their feet as they paced around his knelt-down body. Through heavy breaths, Uraku began to stand up straight as he wiped the sweat from his forehead, then inquiring telepathically back to his enemy,
"{Why... have you come..?}"
"{For a test. The Wings of Darkness have been reborn by the Demonic Dominance of Hell and the Angelic Authoriziation of Heaven. The Death Angel, Azrael, will reign down destruction and chaos from the clouds to annhiliate everything in his path. The ungodly Deity you name your Father... unfortunately, I hate to say this, but He never cared for someone as benvolent as you. You will share the information I've given you to your son, if you keep this to yourself, billions will perish. Defeat the Wings of Darkness, and prove yourselves worthy of living for another seven months. Or suffer in the Abyss of Distortion, once and for all. That is my message. Should you lose, I will come to you and your son in your final moments. Should you win, I will congratulate you and allow you to prepare until the coming Advent. Until we meet again, I bid thee adieu, Son of God},"
Crows gathered around to make their regular sounds as they began to swarm their blackened frame, the very last thing he'd been able to see of this creature were their six eyes. Stacked on a row on top of one another, before the murder of crows swallowed up the Embodiment of Evil once and for all. Vanishing into the storm of flying animals, the Watcher began to stand upright as he let out a final sigh of relief. Though, acting as if everything's taken care of couldn't be further from the truth. Telling them now would just disrupt everything, wake them up from their sweet slumbers as they dreamt of a world far away from the madness of this twisted universe. It would have to be saved for the morning.
'The Wings of Darkness'... reborn once again from the torn-apart flesh and bone of an innocent human being. No matter how noble or peaceful the Demon King might try to sound, that THING will always be less than anything living in this world. A true monster in a world of beings such as Angels and demons, those who have intentions of pureness and peace, and the others who have the motive of eradicating everything in their path to consume human flesh and obey their commander. It truly sickened him to his very core that beings such as Satan existed in this vast multiverse they inhabit. Yet, the time to think of such things wasn't now. The balcony's railing shook with the tremors inflicted into the Earth, his distance lengthening so he could search further away to stare upon them both.. training in the night.
Exchanging blows at lightning-quick speeds, their cries and battle-ready screams entered the air, strengthened so they'd blow away the clouds. Way way way way WAYYY in the distance, August and Alex's fists collided in the momentary slowness of their time around them. A crater forming beneath their feet as the dirt ground below them rumbled and broke into a circle of burnt dirt to their soles, the Reaper and the Student both were blown back from immense bursts of energy. Their split Requiem streams sending one another back, with Alex tumbling so far back that the back of his head hit a rock stopping him immediately, to where August began to spin right in mid-air. Turning into a ball for a moment, he spread out each appendage attached to his chest; the same with his legs, so he could ready and skid across the dirty floor to their soles with dust sliding out from the sides of his sneakers.
Hand on the side of his face as he expanded the range of his voice, August yelled out to his young learner with another on his hip, white hair moving with the flow of the unnaturally strong wings, especially at this time of day,
"Yo, Alex!! YOU OKAY!? BREAK ANYTHING?!"
"Yeah...-" WOOSH! His tied-up hair once again became loose, abruptly reappearing from the blur of quickness he made with the dust from the desert, Alex couldn't help but let out a mischievous smirk over his lips. White orbs glistening in the dark of night, the Justice raised his palm bursting and sparking with pasty lightning akin to Rose's skin color. Everything had seemed to slow around him- but moments before the time seemed to resume its natural flow, the ticking of a clock seemed to boom through the gears of this natural phenomenon. Time went as normal, Alexander slamming his hand, fingers all pushed together- right into the ground. A small gust of wind radiating out from the hit to the dirtied platform below him, Rose couldn't help but laugh at her friend's failure. With her echoing mocking sounds of laughter entering his eardrums, Amara couldn't help but scoff, widening his eyes as he'd remembered yesterday's lesson.
Time had stopped, maybe for fifteen seconds, and he wasn't feeling blows right after August would have hit him. A sudden flower began to sprout right out from a crack in the floor... the golden wind of life had begun to grow from beneath his very feet. He couldn't let himself get attacked so blindly, how disgraceful would that be? Scoffing, he leaped right off from the ground with a streak of lightning propelling him extending out from the soles of his shoes. Grabbing unto the bottom of the helicopter remotely piloted by Artemis' AI, Rose jumped at the thud she'd felt beneath her. Her face pressing against the transparency of the glass window, she could stare right down at him as Alex hung from the bottom of the chopper.
The blades rapidly chittering around the air around them, the Justice scanned the ground he'd just jumped off from, which had suddenly been flowered with beautiful pink nature. Pedals littering the top of the stems, these pieces of grass that'd managed to sprout out from the dryness of the ground had glistened with a special glow around them. And August Rivera, the Requiem Reaper, the most feared being in this or any other world in the known multiverse... was playing with a flower. Watching as it twirled in his hand, Alexander and Rosalyn couldn't help but worry for him. He was a god whenever he fought, but first and foremost- he was human, or better yet, that's how he saw himself. Rose slid the door to the left so there'd be an opening in the side of the levitating vehicle, as Alex decided to let go- releasing his grip. Previously hanging upside down, his legendary barely-used telekinesis had levitated him gently right onto the ground. Turning his head, tilting it upright, Karlo used the streams of sonic blasts from the tips of her fingers so she could descend safely.
The long-time friends spared one another a glance, Amara and Karlo, two students... stepped forward into the garden of pink blossoms. The second their feet had submerged between the duo of palettes, their pupils shrunk and their auras burst out from their chests. Shocked and left there immovable, memories from the past, not their own, reverberated through the halls of their minds.
Through the eyes of the former representative of the Death Arcana, there she stood. In the winter of 2035, a girl with white hair twirled on the sand with her locks swirling around. Arms extended out with a genuine smile spread over her face, the giggles of the girl he'd loved had begun to silence. The waves of the ocean began to calm, glistening with the dark blue hue of the night sky, the stars twinkling at the beginning of that week- had faded on Sunday, the end of it all. The present had begun to blink right before the duo, their eyes widening as they snapped back into the here and now of the present. An imaginary snap was heard as August clicked his fingers together, now standing in front of them both. Rose shorter than them both but Alex just shorter by about two inches,
"What's up with you two?"
The Reaper inquired his student with his female best friend beside him, Alex and Rose shared a confused glance. Momentarily making eye contact before their gaze was directed right to Rivera once more, to the point where he'd vanished from in front of them. His afterimage barely visible for half a second before it was blown away by the winds of the chilly summer night. A distance away, a rock was slammed down by his hand, his feet propelling him into the air as he crossed his legs over to sit at the top of the piece of debris,
"We gonna keep training or not?"
He seemed so... oblivious to what had happened. Maybe it'd never occurred, to begin with, and it was a telepathic illusion? None of them could figure it out, instead, Alex just stared at his mentor. The center of his eyes fitted with a sad and dejected look of pity, Rose gave her childhood friend a peck on the cheek waving over to the chopper so it'd descend to pick her up.
~August Rivera... the son of Emperor Rivera. The savior of the World. The most powerful creature in the multiverse, the Requiem Reaper. I wonder what you feel, August. The pressure you feel, people look up to hope, hoping you'd save them. A god among men. Showing your humanity, something other than the confident alien would appear to be- I wonder. Do you do it... to protect us?~
That was all he could think of, how noble, the man who earned the nickname 'The Reaper' was more selfless than anyone else. For some reason, though he knew he was the same way, knowing who August was, Alexander couldn't help but smile at the sight of his master. Knowing what he'd thought to be the truth, he spread his bottom limbs apart, raising his arms and cracking his fists so his knuckles would spark with Requiem energy. Their eyes shining with the hue of their white and green energies respectively, Alex and August felt the dust slide off the back of their footwear. Just as they were about to hit lightspeed and burn up the floor beneath them at whatever swiftness they'd generate with their soles, Rose couldn't help but hear the whistling of a missile. Widening her eyes, the memories of her father came from the past, transported to her alone so she could widen her eyes.
They'd already disappeared, only blurs of their bodies could be seen at only specific instances when they slowed. Alex's body slamming into the side of the vehicle she tried to get into just quick enough for the audio to enter her ears, the Lovers squeaked and covered her face crossing her arms into an X shape. For her body to fly and the blurs to stop, the first impact hit, repeatedly slamming into the ground as it burnt up the platform of the desert.
BOOM! BOOM!!!!! KRA-KOOMM!!!!!
Sending the two Requiems flying back, Alex spun in mid-air with his vision blurry, having passed out from the blow- he gasped as he reawakened. Rose in pain as she laid outside the ring of fire, he pushed out his hand so she'd soar through the sky with him as the ethereal nature of his telekinetic invisible hand encapsulated her. Landing as he pulled her to his chest, he grunted, feet sliding against the steep nature of the desert ground. Placing her down, his finger pressed against his temple feeling the squishy feeling of a liquid as it dripped down from his forehead. Turning her around, he could see that the bottom part of her shirt had gotten burnt, and so had her skin. His hand lingering over that part, his aura began to glow brighter, the ginger grunting and moaning in momentary anguish as the long-haired Alex held her close. Just so she could know she wasn't alone, her arm around his neck, he patted the back of her head. Smile slowly pulling itself around his face and unto his lips, Al remembered that this wasn't a playground, the flames dancing in the reflection of his eyes. Staring with amazement at the beauty of fire, and chuckling... no doubt about it. Whoever had caused this would pay with their life for hurting the girl he called his best friend.
But he couldn't leave her now, and he sure as hell couldn't run to the Castle for Uraku or her father to tend to her wounds. She deserved her slice of the pie too. As the life energy surging through his fingers and now his stomach erased the heat from the scar, he placed her on her back. Leaning over the back of the rock, all he could do until she was fully functional was watch. He was the strongest, after all.
The barrier of fire that'd swarmed over him had begun to freeze over, dropping to an abundance of ice as his hand broke out of it. Yawning, he took a step out of his cell of frost and stretched his appendages far into the air. Scratching his ass a moment, he mockingly asked the invisible attacker,
"Ahhhh... alright, where are you, weakling?"
Cracking his fingers together so his extremities would crack, knuckles turning to a fist as the tips pushed against his palm, he raised his arm to his nape. The metal of the blackened blade the attacker was suited with shattered on impact, the plasma obeying the command of its master to follow down the remaining part so the handle could melt away from the exponential burn of the fourth state of matter. A tendril of darkness popped out from his left shoulder, erratically moving through the air so it could ensnare the ankle of his winged attacker. Easily slamming them over his head so their bones could burst and break upon impact to the ground in front of the Reaper, August's hands hidden in the pockets of his hoodie.
Hand extending out, his fingers and knuckles began to crack and contort. The tips of those extremities pointing out toward them as he began to raise his palm higher to the sky, the body of the Angel of Death began to raise with the movements of the Requiem. Just then, enlargened and thicker vines had burst out from his left and right out of the ground, one stabbing through their chest and another affixing them downward so this creature could stay pinned. Using Absolute Concentration right now with a punch would easily decimate this thing's vessel, no doubt about it, no matter how powerful whoever made it thought they were. The Requiem Technique rivaled the likes of the Devil King or The Almighty Allfather, there was no way this thing could stand up to the Requiem Reaper.
Then again, seeing as how his father was none other than the Brutal Emperor of Time, a little torture and interrogation- maybe a bit dismemberment could work. As he was about to cover this thing's exposed face with his radiating, the snarls and cries echoing out their enclosed fangs, the Wings of Darkness began to go limp. What? Did it give up so easily, relinquish their fire abilities to attempt to break free just to not give up information? There was no heartbeat he could hear from their chest- to make sure, all he had to do was burn this thing to a pile of ashes.
Palm pressing against the center of the Wings of Darkness, he parted his lips about to state with a certain deepness in his vocals. Then, the glisten in his discolored pupils shining for his right emerald optic to be overshadowed by the bloody shade of a bright crimson, the Requiem energy built up. Swirling around in a pool of negativity and hatred that laid dormant within Angel's corrupted spirit, August widened his eyes, the pieces and bolts of lightning beginning to peek out from his skin as he made one final try. Just to run away so he could weave out of the way, but just before he could, the stinging sensation had entered his chest. Blood spat out from inside his mouth, a smirk spreading over his lips, plastered right over his face... a blade had emerged from the chest of this Angel of Darkness to pierce the Reaper right in the chest.
The barrier of plasma had broken as if they were shards of glass, August staring into the dead eyes of Azrael as they began to light up again, wings popping out his back. Taking a simple step back as the tip of the steel ripped itself out of the Requiem's skin, the Wings of Darkness began to kneel so he could make eye contact with the smiling Requiem Reaper. Parting their lips, their calm voice mismatching with the destructive and black clothing they wore, Azrael gripped him by his white strands, greeting his enemy softly,
"Augustus Rivera... where is your grandfather..?"
To Be Continued!