The usual serenity of Heaven had changed. The warmth dissipated, replaced by falling ash from the sky. Oddly, I had never truly felt the warmth others spoke of. The never-ending wars for power never cease to remind of that. Yet, an archangel knelt before me. His eyes held a vacant stare, a gaze that betrayed no emotion or consciousness, as if it had taken on a glassy emptiness. His dove-like robe was tattered, and his unusually large and illustrious wings had lost feathers.
That gaze of his met mine, which felt like looking through a mirror, causing me to shudder as he put his face down, boring those eyes of his into the mortal world. Or so I thought I shuddered. "You must know," I started, my voice hoarse as I sat upon a throne of gold. "I do not intend to make you an exception. You too, like all other angels and beings within this universe shall perish. I granted you a soul…and you trashed my generosity."
Life threatening situations were not new to me. However, I have grown tired of them. "So, what is it you've come for?" I tapped my ghostly fingers on the armrests.
"I've come to relay a message to you, your majesty." The ash persisted in sullying his robe, contributing to the irreparable, the essence of his soul extending outward. "You," he emphasized, "must know that it is impossible to erase those of us who've ascended, right? Even if you revert everything back to nothingness, we simply reside there until it is something. And we will emerge."
Raising his head, the man nestled his hand beneath his chin for support and presented an eerie smile. "Like you taught us, your majesty. Something HAS to come out of nothing."
Once more, I locked eyes with the unknown yet familiar man, my mouth poised to speak. Suddenly, everything transformed into the abyss of his being. Into nothingness, and the blackness persistently personified, ensnaring itself onto me. Gradually enveloping me, I soon found my vision shrouded.
"There will never be someone to say your name...ever again father. However, out of generosity, I will say it one more time for you."
Nothingness.
"▪️▪️▪️HIEL!"
I awoke suddenly, a ringing sound going off. Clouds stood below me, casting a uniform white veil across the expanse.
"Uriel!" A voice rang out in front of me. "Uriel!" It said again, a blinding light covering the person, "His majesty is speaking to you!"
Reopening my eyes a few times, my vision cleared. For some reason, I was being forced to kneel. Two angels were holding my arms from behind me, 'How did this happen, again?' I thought, the ringing still lingering in the back of my head, like death's whisper.
"How do you plead, traitor?"
'Ah, I remember now. This archangel, he's my liege, Michael. Tch, these damn trances.' I tried to hold my head in pain, feeling restricted from doing so. 'Chains?'
The archangel's head surpassed all the other tens of thousands of souls observing, his eyes mirroring the very essence of Heaven—a baby blue iris capable of beckoning mortals into otherworld's, be they genuine or deceptive. But most notably, his armor outshone everyone else's, clad in shiny, gleaming armor, his skin pallid, a delicate shade seemingly untouched by the very Heaven we originated from.
"You stole the system meant for me, then you went and killed tens of thousands of angels." He crouched down, grit his teeth at me and grabbed me by my hair that cascaded down to the back of my neck, it's color akin to his armor "Just why'd you do it? You were my most trustworthy soldier. Was the fame not enough for you? Heavens, even the mortal worlds know of you. And take that damn mask off!"
'Mask?' I thought, feeling my own breath fall onto my face, 'That's right. Mirage's mask. This damn thing…is why I'm going to die.'
"Your majesty," the angel from earlier, the voice I first heard, spoke once more as he quickly bowed. "I know you plan on beheading this filthy traitor, but may I propose an alternative?"
Letting go of my hair, he once more stood up, "Speak," he said. "I propose that we throw him down to the mortal world. After all, he might as well just die with the other trash." The man smirked.
My vision began to decrease, Mirage's mask slowly enveloping my face. "Yes, I quite like that idea." Michael turned back towards me, a bright smile on his face as he clapped his hands once. "Well then," he interlocked his fingers, as if to pray, "Uriel, I hereby sentence you to death for treason."
I opened my mouth, yet no sounds escaped. Mirage's mask forbade me from speaking, and it had also grown past my ears. 'Mirage!' I cursed, 'I destroyed your soul, but you still intend on ruining me, don't you?!'
The angels behind me, their celestial forms stark against the ethereal glow, each gripped my shackled wrists. Additional chains wound tightly around my stomach and neck. "We shall start with the left wing."
'Wait! Wait! Wait!…Wait! Without my wings I'll fall down to the middle plane!'
Another angel stood on my right side, raising his hand as it turned into pure lightning, "this is for my friends you murdered."
"GAHH!" I let out a pained cry, squirming in discomfort. The thought of losing my wings loomed, threatening a descent to the mortal world. "Stop moving!" he roared, demanding stillness as all other angels observed in awe, witnessing the murderous traitor receiving his due punishment.
The lightning erupted in erratic bursts, each bolt a chaotic dance of energy, zapping into my back multiple times. The impact scattered my skin like confetti caught in a storm. As the electric current reached my bone, the resulting crunch was a symphony of brutality. His sawing, a cruel and relentless ballet, occasionally snuck out, his hand emerging from the shadows to slice across my back with a vivid, macabre grace, seamlessly resuming my torment.
Feathers plunged through Heaven, my blood splattering in all directions, "how does it feel?!" My executioner asked, "because it feels exhilarating for me!"
'I'll kill 'em all.' I bore my eyes towards my liege, all he could see through the mask being my eyes filled with determination, "stop squirming would you." He amusingly scoffed.
"Almost there, traitor!" He raised his blood-ridden hand for a final slash. As the light hit my remaining bone, a crippling pain surged all over my back. The right side of my back felt as though it had been violently torn away, revealing protruding segments of my spine and a wing-bone twisted into a grotesque angle. I grit my teeth through the excruciating torment, not allowing a single sound to escape my lips.
"Hey!" An angel bystander yelled out, "is he even hurt? He's not screaming or anything. This is no fun." The man pouted. The other angels started talking to one another, the seed growing already.
"How is this a punishment if he's not in agony?!"
"Yeah, this is no good!"
"Well, what's possibly worse than this!?"
"Nothing." My liege loudly boomed, the entire area beginning to shake as anger fueled his blood, "this is the worst punishment one can receive. To fall down with mortals is the highest disgrace. I'm sure he's just hiding his pain behind that mask."
'Then take if off me fucker! Try it, I dare you!'
Suddenly, it got even more difficult to breathe, the mask further enclosing on my eyes, and having started descending from my neck.
"Zander," My liege commanded, referring to the angel who severed my wing. "Start on his next wing. Mirage's mask is progressing too fast."
"Of course, my liege."
Many years ago, I survived a battle between five million angels of which only one million were on my side. You see, angels do not possess what mortals refer to as "Systems." We rely solely on our pure strength. However, in that battle, I amongst many others, fought for "Heaven's Original System."
"Uriel, would you please get off the ground?"
"Ah come one, you know he's always been sleepy before battle Raphaela."
'What?' The mask expanded and I found myself where I stood thousands of years ago. 'Did he say…Raphaela?'
And then I noticed it, the mask was no longer on my face and the chains too.
Raphaela, a young angel I picked up over ten thousand years ago. She towered over other angels, even without that enormous battle armor she got, her long, blonde hair was styled in a butterfly cut, creating a fluttering effect around her face and shoulders.
Next to her was Paul, my brother in arms. He was roughly a head shorter than me, his alabaster skin providing a stark canvas for the intensity of his piercing blue eyes, windows to a soul that seemed to hold ancient wisdom. And just like all other war angels, he too was adorned in battle armor from the shoulder down.
"How the hell did I end up back here?" I chuckled, "I've missed you guys."
"Jeez, did the man hit his head?" Paul sarcastically remarked, overexerting that annoying face of his. "You mean again?" Raph held her hand over her mouth.
"Annoying shits." I got up from the ground, and it shook. But not from me. Behind us were one million angels, all of whom were ready to sacrifice their lives. If need be, that is. But more importantly, what laid in front of us. Four million angels, which even had a couple hundred archangels in the mix.
"Come on," Paul held his arms out, a pained smile behind those eyes, "bring it on in."
"Yeah, yeah." Raph wrapped an arm around him, signaling towards me, "well hurry up Uriel. Those fuckers will arrive soon."
"Sorry, just wanted to take it all in," I walked over, and we all placed arms over each other's shoulders. Confused, Paul asked, "what, the hug?" Catching a quick elbow to the gut from Raph. "Ow!"
"Idiot."
Holding a quick laugh, we butted our heads together, "how're you ever gonna be able to do without us," Paul pinched my ear. "Guess we just gotta hope "The First Creation" protects us, then don't we, Paul?"
"With my life." I interjected.
The rumbling got louder, the clinking of armor sounding off.
"Enough of that," Paul briefly held the necks of Raph and me. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, backed up, fixed his hair, and gazed off into the oncoming. "It's time to kill some fakes."
I once more looked into the force behind us. "Weapons ready!" I mustered, my voice causing more tremors and cracks into the clear floor, like glass beneath our feet. Following my command, all the angels in formation held their respective weapons.
"What is it the other angels have been saying about you," Paul showed a cheeky smile as he unsheathed the sword from his waist. His longsword, forged from a meteorite, glistened in the bright atmosphere of Heaven, our never-ending light shining brightly. "Was it… "May the Epoch deliver us victory?""
"Still don't understand how that stuck with me."
In between Paul and I, Raph hardened her eyes and faced outwards. "You said it yourself, Uriel. Weapons ready."
I dug my thick glove into the glands of my eye, erasing the moistness. "I really am tired of spending most of my time in false realities. But at the same time, I don't mind it too much."
Raph gracefully cupped her hands together, closing them with a focused determination. Hovering above, golden particles began to materialize, coalescing into a radiant Tachi of pure light. "Wouldn't be the first time we were outnumbered."
The scene felt so surreal, I was reliving my worst nightmare. Yet, it wasn't as bad as my current reality.
Reaching my hand behind my head, I brought forth what's been with me since the conception of the universe. Aeonis, a weapon, but more importantly, the second half of my soul. I have the ability to make any type of weapon. At the time of this battle, I had it looking like a greatsword from a planet known as Earth.
'So many battles.' I thought, sliding my fingers across the sharp blade, 'how does one last battle sound?'
"Hey," Paul's voice cut through the escalating roars of the enemy army, a smile playing on his face as he threw me a reassuring thumbs up. "You know what to do. Stop worrying about us and let those bastards witness your true strength."
"Just how many times will you come visit us just for us to remind you of who you are?" Raph remarked. Her sword grew larger, brighter even as she had to yell for me to hear her. "You are the first creation of the universe! The one true son of God! The Epoch of Sovereignty! Now get your ass outta here!"
'Just why couldn't this be real? Saving me even after their death. How could I ever repay these two?' I closed my eyes, suppressing the tears. 'Yeah, I just gotta do what we used to, right? To kill all who oppose me.'
My eyes fluttered open, and the weight of the nightmare gradually lifted. Yet, the emotions it carried lingered in the lines of my face and the distant gaze. The clouds of Heaven seemed like a canvas, and the memories painted on it, though fading, left behind traces of color.
Suddenly, the mask expanded, and I felt my voice return. The sound of the mask growing over my body echoed like the bark of a tree on the verge of collapse.
"W-What the hell? Mirage's mask has grown everywhere on him, look!" An angel yelled, everyone's face filling with disgust. Michael walked up to me unsheathing his sword, "You're taking too long. I'll rid this traitor of his last wing."
"Michael." I said, shifting my head towards him, my voice low and filled with venom.
"Has the Devil's door made you mad? I am your liege!"
Feeling my tiredness cease, I loosened the chains on both my ankles and wrists. I stood up, "the injuries you've caused me. They must be revenged."