~☙~ Prologue ~☙~
The Archangel Michael paced around his chambers, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’d received a summons from his younger brother demanding to meet him this evening in the throne room, and he couldn’t help the mild irritation he felt at that. Who does he think he is to summon me?
After another five minutes of pacing, Michael sighed, and left his private quarters, heading to the throne room. The chamber itself was vast, empty of any furnishing save for the single white marble chair that vaguely resembled a throne. No one had used this room in the last fifty thousand years, since Yahweh’s disappearing act, and at this point the Angels had given up on his return.
As the eldest, Michael had been expected to keep his siblings in line, but after so long, he’d grown weary of watching over them. All they do is fight over who’s going to sit in the throne now that our father is gone.
Michael pushed open the stained glass doors, depicting the Almighty Yahweh, and froze at the sight in front of him. His brother sat on the throne, tall and proud like he belonged there. Two of his other brothers, Uriel and Remiel, stood on either side of the throne.
“What is the meaning of this, Raphael?” Michael growled, barely containing his rage.
“The time has come. Yahweh is gone, and he’s not coming back,” Raphael replied coolly. “We intend to do what we were always meant to.”
“I won’t allow it,” Michael stood up straighter, his white feathered Phoenix wings snapped free in shock. “I’ve already told you they’re off limits.”
“Enough, Michael!” Raphael snapped. “It’s been fifty thousand years since Yahweh was here. He has abandoned us, so you either stand with us or you stand against us.”
“Then I guess I stand against you,” Michael snarled.
“You’re a sentimental fool Michael,” Uriel growled. “The time has come for humans to be destroyed. Father is not here to stop us, and I am tired of watching over those pathetic creatures.”
Michael’s face darkened, his hand going to the hilt of his sword.
“You can’t kill the humans, Raphael,” he warned them. “Yahweh may not hold any authority, but I do. Stay away from Earth or suffer the consequences.”
“You no longer hold any authority here, brother,” Remiel spoke softly, but the words were as sharp as a blade. “You need to accept that your daughter is gone. She was destroyed by the very things you protect.”
“We don’t know that,” Michael shook his head. “She could still be in the reincarnation cycle, hidden from view.”
“Have you grown that soft, brother?” Raphael asked in a leering tone. “Has that abomination won over the warrior you once used to be?”
“Do not speak about her that way!” Michael snarled. “I will not allow you to kill all of creation, simply because you think you can.”
Raphael stood. The rage was clear on his face.
“And how do you plan to stop me?” He demanded.
“You’re not the only one with an army at your disposal,” Gabriel growled, as he stormed through the doors.
“The only things that can stop me are dead,” Raphael laughed, the sound cold and empty, glaring at Gabriel. “They’ve been so, for a long time now, or have you forgotten.”
Michael felt pain in his chest at the mention of his daughters. His eldest had been killed some sixty thousand years prior, while his youngest had vanished four hundred years ago. Michael, Gabriel, and their mates had looked everywhere, but from the looks of it, she was just as dead as her elder sister.
“I will find a way,” Michael vowed, finally. “Even if I have to cross worlds to find the answer, you will fail.”
“Call our garrisons,” Micahel told Gabriel as they left the throne room. “The time has come. If Raphael wants a war, then that’s what he’ll get. But I won’t allow humanity to suffer because of Raphael’s ambitions.”
“Where are you going?” Gabriel asked.
“I think it’s time I visit our other brother.” Michael scrubbed a hand through his dark brown hair. “Going to him will be risky, but it’s a chance we’ll have to take.”
“What about the special troops?” Gabriel cracked his knuckles.
“The Nephilim?” Michael raised an eyebrow at him. “Find any who will join our cause. When you’re done, meet me at the cove.”
Gabriel nodded, and then he was gone. Groaning, Michael snapped, teleporting directly into the infernal realm. Immediately upon landing, he saw demonic guards heading his way. They held their spears at the ready.
“You’re trespassing!” The first guard growled.
“I’m here to see Lucifer,” Michael replied calmly. “It’s vital that I speak to him now.”
The guards shared a wary look before the first one nodded, and gestured for Michael to follow them. The throne room Lucifer sat in, mirrored Celestial’s exactly, except it was black marble. Lucifer sat on the throne, his chin resting on his hand.
Lucifer was as stunning as they said with his looks, his beauty beyond mortal comprehension. Lucifer had porcelain skin, and refined, narrow features. His curly black hair was braided into a waist-length half-ponytail. Lucifer wore a silver Xiao Guan crown, and black silk hanfu. The outfit itself was a wardrobe idea, he’d stolen from an alternate version of himself.
Lucifer looked bored, staring at a random spot on the wall. He’d been shackled to the throne, for nearly sixty thousand years, by a set of silver cuffs that wrapped around both of his ankles, preventing him from leaving. However, when he caught sight of Michael, his eyes lit up with curiosity and he sat up straighter.
“Michael,” Lucifer smirked. “What brings you to my hellish abode.”
“Raphael,” Michael stopped in front of him. “He’s moving forward with the execution of humanity.”
“What does that have to do with me?” Lucifer growled, his crimson eyes narrowing.
“I need your help, Lucifer,” Michael sighed. “I know I’m the last person you’d want to help…”
“You mean since you were the one who shackled me to this chair?” Lucifer hissed.
“Yes,” Michael nodded. “But I’m willing to make a deal.”
“Oh?” Lucifer looked intrigued. “And what could you possibly be willing to bargain with?”
“Your freedom, for your help,” Michael told him firmly. “Raphael will take your place if he doesn’t die first.”
“And if he does, will you force me to return here, living out my existence in exile?” Lucifer demanded.
“No. You’ll be free to do as you please so long as you don’t attempt to follow in Raphael’s footsteps,” Michael responded.
“I’m surprised Michael…” Lucifer drawled. “That you would come to me for help after what I did to your eldest daughter… Emma right?”
“If I had any other choice,” Michael growled. “I wouldn’t be here at all. However, Raphael will likely try to kill you along with me, since we’re both far stronger than him.”
Lucifer tilted his head, thinking. He twirled a small strand of hair around his finger. Finally, he flashed Michael an almost cruel grin.
“What do you need from me?” Lucifer asked, lounging languidly in the throne.
“I need to find Nayomie, or someone who is directly descended from her.” Michael, winces as he says her name. “She was the only survivor of the Guardians until four hundred years ago.”
“What happened to her?” Lucifer asked, leaning forward, shock flashing through his eyes.
“I wish I knew,” Michael shook his head. “She just… winked out of existence, and we’ve been unable to locate her since.”
“And you think that I can?” Lucifer raised an eyebrow. “Have you checked the other universes?”
“There are thousands of versions of her and the others in other worlds,” Michael said. “They’re all fighting their own wars. So if anyone can find our Nayomie… it would be you.”
“I will do my best… Michael,” Lucifer grinned like the Cheshire cat.
“Thank you,” Michael nodded, turning to leave, but Lucifer stopped him.
“Do let me know when the battle begins. I have a bone to pick with Raphael and Uriel,” Lucifer settled back in his chair.
“Understood,” Michael rolled his eyes before he disappeared, and Lucifer began his hunt, still shackled to the throne.
