I am happy to report that for a number of years things were copacetic. We rarely heard anything regarding Hell, aside from the occasional meddling and skirmishes here and there. It was, in my book, a welcome change in pace.

I spent my days happily doing as I saw fit. The days of checking in with Mikha'el were long past, so I created my own itinerary from day to day. I hated stagnation, so I made sure I was always doing something.

As the years drifted by, I spent a majority of my time taking Malael's son under my wing. After a point I insisted he chose a name for himself, growing tired of calling him either "you" or "child", or referring to him as "child/son of Malael". He agreed, albeit somewhat reluctantly. After a process (that I felt was overly complicated; I wish he would have just opened a book of names, put one hand over his eyes, pointed randomly, and be done with it) he declared himself Zeraelgreus.

At first he wanted to name himself something that started with sera-. While I was flattered, I strongly suggested he not do that. It wasn't even a matter of fearing idol worship—I simply didn't feel I deserved that honor. So, instead he settled for Zeraelgreus. He had, by happenstance, met Zagreus, prince of the Underworld, son of Hades and Persephone. They became fast friends, so he chose the name as homage to his friend, his angel father (Aelgurus), and me.

He goes by Zera for short.

My name is sometimes mispronounced as Sarah (instead of SEE-rah, or SEAR-ah). Which sounds like Zera bit. It gets confusing sometimes when we're together to both our chagrin.

But I digress. Zera is a good man. I have come to view him as a surrogate son. His mother and I have become very close, a strong platonic love as deep as the platonic love I feel towards Mikha'el and Auriel. I eat a meal with them at least once a week, more often time permitting. This stands to this day.

So far as I know, no one besides Mikha'el and myself knows of his mixed status. I still fear for his safety, so, aside you, dear reader, no one else knows he is a angel-demon-human hybrid. There has never been an instance that would make me take pause with him, nor question his motives. I know in my heart of hearts he is good, and only wants what's best for everyone.

I truly do love him like my own child. As such, it was lovely to go hundreds of years by his side, playing domestic with Malael and Zera, overseeing jobs here and there, and commanding garrisons when called for. I should have logically known that the peace would not last, not with Lucifer still alive and kicking. What happened shouldn't have surprised me so much. It shouldn't have broken my soul so badly.

Then again, I was stupid to think Mikha'el would be at my side, forever and always.

Oh, what a naive bastard I was.

~

We were preoccupied with Christmas. That was when the attack happened.

Soon the screams coming from legions of angels caught everyone's attention. Using my angelic vision, I looked at the commotion coming from the Gates. Even so, it was a good distance away, and I couldn't see very well.

I didn't need eyesight though. I felt the corruption coil around me. I knew something was wrong—seriously wrong—because God abruptly vanished.

I looked over at Mikha'el. Many of us were pulling put our weapons already. Mikha'el unfurled all six wings, and with a flash of yellow light, he was in his golden armor. He crossed both arms and drew his swords from mid-air, as though they had been strapped to his sides this entire time. He gave me a brief glance, smiled, and then winked.

"Last one there buys the next round of wine tonight."

He took off towards the Gates of Heaven, and I was hot on his heels.

It didn't take long at all for us to realize this was no laughing matter. It was a full on assault. A siege, truly. Hell spawn and demons I had never seen before spread everywhere. Fallen were quickly engaging our seraphim, but not before taking out huge numbers of angels. They weren't only using weapons, either. Dark mages were doing incantations, their demonic chanting rising up in a low vibrato that remained as a baseline throughout the duration of the fight.

The attack wasn't just in the procession area. It was in the business district. It was in the residential district. It was everywhere. They weren't just killing angels; they were seeming to cause as much structural damage to Heaven itself as possible.

I wanted to focus on ushering lesser angels to safety, but that plan was derailed when a demon threw a boulder at me and clipped my wing. Enraged, I mercilessly slaughtered him. When I engaged him however, I became locked in combat. There were legions everywhere. It was nothing I had experienced during the Fall of Baliel; this was a battle of catastrophic proportion. At one point I thought I was done for, several demons tackling me to the ground. There was such confusion over who was who and which limb belonged to whom that I managed to escape. Barely, and I was roughed up and trampled as I crawled out of the pile, but I had left with my life. I was grateful for that.

The hours dragged on and I began to become utterly exhausted. Nothing seemed to have thinned out, with everything as chaotic as when the attack first began. I pulled myself in as many different ways as I could—cowering cherub hiding behind rubble? Whisk them to safety. The doors of Metatron nearly being breached? Threw myself headlong into the fray and beheaded the Fallen who seemed to be a general of the group.

"Thank you!" I heard Metatron call after me as I flew away.

It had been the first time I had seen any of my friends in hours. I worried about them all. Were they whole? Were they safe? When those thoughts settled on Zera, I forced myself to push them away. The thought of anything happening to anyone I held dear was simply too distracting. The outcome of things could be dealt with later.

It was as twilight began to swallow Heaven did I realize just how truly dire this war was. Currently I took shelter behind a trundle that had been reduced to little more than plywood. It was the first time I had paused in hours. As I crouched, panting, I tried to take note of my wounds, parcing out what was my own blood and what belonged to others. Everything I found, for the most part, seemed superficial. At the very least I hadn't been mortally wounded.

I had noticed my second right wing hurt, and I was having trouble controlling it. This was what made me pause. I looked over my shoulder and immediately saw the cause; the ulna bone had clearly been broken. I looked around, making sure I was temporarily safe. When the coast was clear, I put my sword down, braced myself, and set the bone as best I could. My vision swam and I moaned loudly. I allowed the wave of nausea to pass and then picked up my sword.

That's when I saw him. Paimon himself. One of the four Princes of Hell. He was akin to Mikha'el in Heaven. Rumor had it he was just about the only true friend Lucifer had. I knew him immediately from his menacing black armor, and the whip with a knotted end. He rode a black war camel, which sounds ridiculous until you see it; it's actually rather terrifying.

I froze. I didn't want to take on one of the princes, not with a broken wing. Yes, I had five other unscathed, but I still would rather not engage. As such, I cowered behind my mess of splintered wood, praying he wouldn't see me. I was lucky he didn't. As soon as he rode past, and I felt assured he wouldn't see me, I came out from my hiding spot.

I was stupid. I had become so focused on the prince I had briefly disregarded my surroundings. With my neck still turned to watch Paimon, meaning to seek out Mikha'el to let him know the four princes themselves were here, I literally walked right into a Nephilim.

It was huge. Imagine your worst nightmare. A monster. Whatever you fear, whatever crazy, disturbing, humanoid cryptid your brain can muster...Sharp teeth, maybe some sunken eyes. Taught skin, huge claws perhaps?

It's scarier than whatever image your brain conjures.

For a split second we both just gawked at one another. He seemed as surprised as I was. Unfortunately for me, he came to his senses first. He grabbed me by my throat, lifted me into the air, and raising his other hand with taloned nails slashed me across the stomach.

I kicked it in the face and it dropped me. Ignoring my deep lacerations, I threw myself at it knees, hoping to take it down. I did. After a scuffle, wherein it scratched me several more times, I managed to chop off one of its arms. As it screamed I put my hand to its head and smote it.

Injured, I scrambled to my feet. I couldn't look at the damage, not yet, I had to get to safety. In the confusion I wasn't rightly sure where I was. However, I seemed to be in a more deserted area, the sounds of the ongoing war elsewhere.

Clutching my stomach with one arm, I stumbled my way down the street. The area I was in was decimated. Most buildings lay in heaps of rubble around me, some half-knocked down like some demented outcropping of some deserted island floating in the ocean.

It was heartbreaking, seeing my home like that.

I pushed that thought aside, taking refuge behind a large pile of rubble. Gingerly I sat down, panting. Glancing around a final time, I looked down at my stomach.

It was a nasty wound. I could tell my body was already working on healing itself, but it was deep. Had I been mortal I would have died. Lucky for me, however, I was an angel and could survive an attack from a Nephalim that had tried to disembowel me.

I knew I was down, at least for awhile. There was no point in me pushing myself and getting myself killed. We needed every able body we could manage, and I knew my power, so doing something stupid was out of the question. As such, I peeked around my protective wall.

And promptly slammed myself against the rubble, clamping a hand over my mouth to ensure I didn't make a single sound.

Apparently, this area was so empty because Paimon had cleared a path for Lucifer himself.

I had watched the Time Frames with him in them over and over again. As such, I would recognize him anywhere. He was as tall as the natural seraphim, which made sense seeing as he was once an archangel. I was slightly surprised that he only had two wings. That said, the two wings he had were massive.

Stories of how he had ripped out all his black feathers when he Fell were well known. They were red, a disgusting patchwork of thin skin and veins. They were currently relaxed at either side, and he fanned them gently as walked. With his feathers gone, his pollex bone was visible, making everything that much scarier.

I knew him by his long, flowing, straight silver hair. I caught a glimpse of his eyes, glowing and red. For a moment I thought he had seen me, right before I threw myself back against the rubble. If he had he, thankfully, thought me no threat.

Suddenly Mikha'el was at my side. Relief washed over me. I looked him over. Besides being sweaty, dirty, and a little bloody, he appeared to be fine.

"Good," Mikha'el said, "he's finally alone."

I grabbed his arm, panicked. "Mikha'el. You don't mean to take him alone?"

"Of course I do. One on one seems like a fair fight."

I grabbed his arm tighter. "Mikha'el. You know who that is, right?"

"Of course I do. I was a witness when he Fell. Besides, I've gone toe to toe with him the last time he tried to do this."

"The Morningstar was the first angel ever created!"

He grinned at me. "So?"

Without another word, I was helpless as I watched my best friend, my ward, my mentor, and the angel who had come to be like an older brother to me, get to his feet.

"LUCIFER!"

There was nothing I could do as I watched Mikha'el step over the rubble, making his way to Lucifer. The Grand Fallen turned. When he saw who it was, he gave a slow, menacing grin. I stayed where I was, peeking out, hoping to not be seen and feeling utterly hopeless.

The fight didn't last long, but honestly longer than I thought it would. Lucifer stared him down, never dropping the maniacal, bloodthirsty smile. With a bellow Mikha'el flung himself at the gangly being. Lucifer braced himself and parred the blows with his own single black sword.

My heart leapt when Mikha'el, surprisingly, got the upper hand. With a scream, he managed to catch Lucifer's blade within his own. With a circular motion, he disarmed Lucifer, the black sword going flying.

I think all three of us realized Mikha'el error all at once. Enraged, Lucifer kicked Mikha'el squarely in the chest. Mikha'el stumbled but recovered quickly. He raised his right arm to strike Lucifer, but he easily grabbed Mikha'el forearm. Mikha'el screamed, the sound of breaking bones ringing out, and he dropped his right sword.

Mikha'el raised his left hand to strike a blow with his other sword. As though this were child's play to him, Lucifer back-handed his wrist. With unnatural speed he grabbed Mikha'el's wrist in the same motion, shook it once, and Mikha'el dropped that sword, too.

Lucifer grabbed Mikha'el by either side of his head. Mikha'el, looking properly freaked out, grabbed Lucifer's wrists. I watched as Lucifer pulled up on Mikha'el's head, pulling it from his body as though he was pulling the head off a doll.

Mikha'el's body dropped away. Lucifer grabbed the head by the hair, held it out, and examined it with curiosity. Then, he dropped it and kicked it away mid-air like some sort of contemporary football.

I jumped to my feet.

"MIKHA'EL!"

Lucifer looked at me. Tilting his head to the side he vanished into thin air, as did his sword.

I sprinted to Mikha'el's body, my own wound forgotten. I slid on my knees, trying to cradle his body. But as I pulled it into my arms, he began to disintegrate. I had never witnessed an angel dying up close. It was strangely beautiful. They turn into silver, bioluminescent flakes, carried away by some supernatural wind. The pieces sparkled like glitter. I tried to grapes them as they swirled around me, rising higher and higher.

I thought if I could gather up enough pieces, Raphael could put him back together. I thought if I collected them, I could put them in a bottle with a cork until Metatron and Auriel could find a book to fix this. I thought maybe it was some trick, and Gabriel could go after Lucifer and force him to bring Mikha'el back.

I thought maybe there was something I could do.

But there wasn't.

My ward was dead.