A ripple of laughter echoed through the celestial plane, a sound as deep and resonant as the toll of a cathedral bell. "Ah, what a momentous occasion, our paths crossing like this. How delightfully unexpected," Michael's voice boomed, the humor in his tone unmistakable.
Within this heavenly realm, a meeting of immense significance was underway, attended by none other than the four Archangels: Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, and Uriel. Their power was unfathomable, their presence invisible to the mortal eye.
Gabriel, the divine messenger, bearer of revelations; Michael, the grand commander, the voice of divine justice; Raphael, the nurturer, the guardian of wanderers; and Uriel, the seer, the font of wisdom. Together, they convened to discuss a matter of grave concern—the disturbing news about Lucifer, the fallen angel of pride.
"Humanity stands on the precipice, threatened by a foe they cannot comprehend," Raphael's voice echoed, his tone grave. "The traitor threatens to unleash a reign of terror. Will you step in once more, Michael, as you did in times past?"
Michael's response came, as strong and sure as the rising sun. "I will not. This time, I will delegate. Not out of lethargy, but out of curiosity. A mortal has caught my attention, one whose power rivals that of Azrael, the angel of death. It may sound absurd, but I am intrigued by humanity's capacity to defend itself. I desire to see if they can thwart my kin—Lucifer—before they meet their doom." His smile was like the dawn, full of warmth and shining confidence in mankind.
Uriel, his arms crossed, sighed. "A mortal against a devil? The very thought boggles the mind." He seemed to be wrestling with the audacity of Michael's plan.
"Your skepticism is noted, Uriel," Michael replied. "But I am resolved. I will entrust this task to a mortal. Leia!" His voice echoed across the heavens.
Into their celestial gathering flew Leia. Donned in armor of glimmering gold, her helmet allowing strands of her hair to flow freely, she was a vision of celestial beauty beyond mortal comprehension. She knelt in deference before the four archangels elevated on high. Lowering her gaze, she asked, "What is your command?"
"Seek out the mortal whose aura resonates with Azrael's power. Guide him to Hell itself, mold him, prepare him for the battle to come," Michael commanded, his voice resonating with the weight of his words.
As Michael's words hung in the air, Leia rose, her wings unfurling. "As you command, Lord Michael." With that, she descended from the heavens, plunging towards the mortal realm.
"May your choices not lead us to ruin." Uriel's voice resonated with an undercurrent of worry, his celestial gaze cast upon the world of mortals from their lofty vantage point.
"Fear not, Uriel." Michael's voice rang out, filled with confidence. "The time has come for the mortals to prove their mettle against threats divine."
Meanwhile, in the mortal realm, on planet Earth...
"Darn it all, I'm running late again!"
Meet Ajax Cornado, a highschooler earning his keep as a delivery boy. As he pedaled furiously, an urgent delivery perched in his basket, he turned into a narrow alleyway. There, a sight not for the faint-hearted unfolded; a young boy being viciously beaten by three older, larger boys.
"Trouble... always finds me, huh..." Ajax muttered, his foot impatiently tapping the ground, "But I guess, a chance to flex the muscles wouldn't hurt."
He secured his helmet onto the handlebars of his bicycle and threw himself into the thick of it. The bullies didn't stand a chance. One by one, they were sent sprawling, their faces swollen and eyes blackened from Ajax's self-taught yet effective combat style.
"Do you need help with those wounds?" Ajax offered, kneeling down to assess the boy's injuries.
For the first time, the boy got a good look at his savior. Ajax, with his unruly red hair and striking blue eyes, was a sight to behold. A plaster stuck to one cheek, a trio of scars trailing down the other, a small cut across the bridge of his nose. His face told tales of numerous fights.
"Scared of these scars, are you?" Ajax chuckled, catching the boy's worried gaze. "Don't sweat it. They're badges of honor from countless brawls. Nothing more."
Ajax stood and extended a hand to the boy, helping him to his feet, "Chin up, little guy. Remember, a real man never stays down, unless he's taking a well-deserved rest."
The boy's face lit up with a smile, his laughter echoing in the otherwise quiet alleyway as he wrapped his arms around Ajax in a thankful hug. Ajax suggested the boy should head home, but it soon became clear that the boy didn't know where that was. It seemed as if he had been kidnapped, dumped in the alley, and left for a beating.
"No problem, kiddo. Big bro Ajax gotchu covered. I'll get you home safe and sound." Ajax chuckled, gripping the boy's hand tightly and leading him out of the alley, a protective arm around his shoulders as they ventured into the bustling city.
The young lad clung to Ajax's side, his fear making him a second shadow. He was terrified of the unknown dangers that could be lurking in the corners of this unfamiliar world.
"Where do you go to school, kiddo?" Ajax's voice softened, his protective instincts kicking in. "Your mom must be worried sick. Let's get you back to her, alright?" He tried to reassure the boy, all while wrestling with his own concerns.
With some coaxing, the boy shared the name of his school. Seven miles away. Ajax's brows furrowed in disbelief. It did sound like a kidnapping plot. Then, a realization hit him like a bolt from the blue.
"Ah shi- Goodie Cookies! My bike!" He caught himself just before he swore, the presence of the child reminding him to keep his language in check.
The two had already covered a considerable distance from where Ajax had left his bike. But as they continued their walk, the boy recognized a familiar path leading to his regular playground. It was just about 700 meters away. A call to the boy's mother seemed the best course of action, and thankfully, the boy knew her number.
Upon reaching the playground, Ajax and the boy settled down on the swings, waiting for the boy's mother. The place was eerily deserted. Ajax couldn't help but worry about the consequences this incident might bring upon his career after he was late to deliver the goods.
After a mere three minutes of waiting, an ominous group of bikers approached. Dressed in black jackets and jeans, their bodies adorned with tattoos like badges of honor, they emanated a palpable air of danger.
"Stay put," Ajax instructed the boy, rising from the swing to confront the newcomers.
"Whatchu want?" He asked, his eyes narrowing as he recognized a familiar face amongst them. They were the bullies he'd dealt with earlier, and it seemed they had called in reinforcements.
A smirk stretched across Ajax's face at their cowardice, as they had rallied a squad of fifty bikers to exact their revenge.
"Didn't realize I'd thrashed a bunch of crybabies. Running to the adults after you picked on a child. Pathetic," he taunted, standing tall amidst the throng of bikers, the frightened boy hidden behind him.
"Laugh all you want, tough guy," one of the bullies retorted. "Fifty against one! Hope you're ready to get your ass kicked. We'll finish you off!" The trio finally found their courage, hurling threats and insults at Ajax.
But Ajax remained unfazed. He began stretching, limbering up for the impending showdown. His muscles flexed as he raised his arms, preparing himself for the onslaught.
"Well, looks like that earlier scuffle was just a warmup. Time to school some bikers," he declared, his voice filled with determination.