Chapter Text
The battlefield was now nothing more than a vast open-air cemetery. Literally. The ground, churned up by the fighting, was reddened, almost blackened with blood, ash, and rubble. The bodies of angels lay everywhere, hundreds of them, left in the filth with indifference. In the distance, the cries and orders of war continued to echo, but here, on the edge of a precipice overlooking the void, shrouded in the blackness of the open world, two combatants faced each other. Or rather, one quickly gained the upper hand.
Dagon was on one knee, behind her, Michael held her spear against the nape of the renegade Virtue's neck. The slightest movement would surely be enough to split her open. Yet the redhead continued to struggle. Her clothes were torn, her face covered in dust, cuts, and dried blood, like most here. Her hair clung to her forehead as she still tried to reach for her weapon, which had fallen a few feet away.
" Stay down ! " Michael snapped through gritted teeth.
Dagon snarled. " Make me ! "
She suddenly reached for her sword, but Michael immediately kicked it. The weapon slid across the wet stone before falling into the void. Dagon cursed. Even unarmed, she continued to fight. Still as wild and still as stubborn. Michael felt a pang of bitterness pierce her chest.
For...decades ? More ? Time had no meaning for them at that moment, everything was going well, everything had fallen perfectly into place.
This fight was clearly not part of God's plan. Or was it ? But today was the day everyone would choose their side. For all time to come. Michael had always believed that all the angels would support the project. That they understood the necessity of following God and her words. Instead, she found herself having to get rid of her own people without even truly understanding why.
" Why are you doing this ? "
" Because this order prevents me from accessing everything I've built ! "
" It will bring order. "
" It mainly brings chains. Open your eyes ! "
Michael pressed her spear harder against the back of her neck.
" Is this truly what you want ? "
" It would seem I've already made my choice, wouldn't you say ? " replied Dagon.
A sudden wind blew between them. Below, in the void, debris from ruins clattered together or simply tumbled to the ground.
" Are you going to lose everything for this madness ? " asked the brunette.
Dagon's gaze darkened as she stared at the ground.
" The only madness here is accepting this life of deprivation. "
" Those are my brother's words I hear, " growled Michael.
" They're mine. " Dagon paused. " But he's right. "
Michael felt her jaw tighten. Of course, her brother was the spark that had ignited their world. Every death, every broken angel turned fallen, originated in his words and ideas.
" Don't you understand ? " asked Michael.
This time, something changed in the Virtue's expression.
" No. " Dagon shook her head. " It's you who doesn't understand. "
She raised her head, feeling the blade leave a thin cut on the back of her neck, and their eyes met. For a moment, the sounds of war seemed to disappear.
" You're a perfect angel, Michael. " The words landed almost like an insult. " But you're a very ignorant living being. "
Michael frowned, and it was at that moment that Dagon moved. Not to attack. She simply placed one foot on a stone beside her, extricating herself from the weapon. Then she pushed herself into the void.
Michael's eyes widened and she gasped, surprised to see her fall willingly. Michael approached and leaned over the edge. Below, she could only make out a winged figure plummeting into the unknown before being swallowed by the void. Another one.
For several seconds, she remained motionless, unable to understand why half of them would choose this over the perfect life they had been given here.
Then Dagon's words came back to her.
"You're a perfect angel. But you're a very ignorant living being."
Michael gritted her teeth. What did that even mean ? She was one of the most gifted angels.
But she didn't have time for that. Not now. Around her, the battle raged on. Thousands of combatants were still killing each other, and somewhere in the chaos was her brother. The angel responsible for all of this. She tightened her grip on her spear and turned on her heel without another glance into the void. The war wasn't over, and she still had work to do.