*Author note* Remedy rolled a Nat 1 for this to happen it could of been any tree in the area. Also Instead of studying for the SIE exam I wrote 2 chapters the second will be up later today.
Angel POV - Malachi
The winter forest stretched endlessly before us, ancient pines weighted down with fresh snow that muffled our footsteps as we made our patrol rounds. Crystalline flakes drifted through the canopy above, catching what little light filtered through the heavy clouds. It had been snowing for three days straight, and the pristine white landscape would have been beautiful if it weren't so mind-numbingly boring.
"Remind me again why we're trudging through this frozen wasteland?" Zephyr muttered from beside me, his breath forming small clouds in the frigid air. Of our four-angel squad, he was the most vocal about his displeasure with mundane assignments. "Surely the garrison has better uses for our time than playing forest patrol."
I adjusted my grip on my angel blade, the celestial steel warm against my palm despite the cold. "Because Uriel commanded it," I replied simply. "There have been... irregularities in this region. Energy signatures that don't match any known entities."
"Irregularities" scoffed Ezekiel from the rear of our formation. He was the eldest among us, having served since before the War in Heaven, and his patience for what he considered trivial concerns had worn thin over the millennia. "Everything's an irregularity these days. A bird flies the wrong direction, an irregularity. A tree grows too tall, an irregularity. Perhaps the garrison simply needs better things to occupy our time."
Ahead of us, Raphael—not the archangel, but a younger angel who had taken the name in honor carved absent patterns into the bark of trees as we passed. His blade left precise, shallow cuts that wept clear sap in the cold air. It was a nervous habit he'd developed since his creation after the Darkness War, one that the rest of us had learned to ignore.
"The reports specifically mentioned energy readings" I continued, stepping over a fallen log half-buried in snow. "Fluctuations that suggest manipulation of reality's fundamental forces. That's hardly trivial."
Raphael's blade bit deeper into the next tree, carving what looked like runic symbols into the bark. "Maybe it's just humans developing their latent abilities," he suggested without looking back at us. "This era is supposed to be when they first begin to exhibit paranatural potential, isn't it?"
"Humans?" Ezekiel laughed, a sound like ice cracking. "These barely-evolved primates can barely maintain fire, much less manipulate fundamental forces. Their most advanced technology is sharpened stones tied to sticks."
I frowned, considering this. It was true that the humans of this era were primitive by any reasonable standard. Most lived in small tribal groups, following herds and seasonal patterns with a level of sophistication that barely qualified as civilization. Yet the energy readings we'd been sent to investigate suggested conscious, directed paranatural activity far beyond anything early humans should be capable of.
"Perhaps" I said slowly, "but the readings are consistent with intelligence. Planning. Deliberate modification of local reality to achieve specific effects."
"Or" Zephyr countered, "it could be something else entirely such as one of those 'deities' trying to establish a foothold before the humans develop more religious concepts."
We walked in comfortable silence for several minutes, our boots crunching through snow that had accumulated to nearly a foot in depth. The forest around us was pristine, untouched by human development or supernatural interference. Ancient trees stretched toward the gray sky, their branches heavy with snow and ice that created a cathedral-like atmosphere of hushed reverence.
Raphael continued his nervous carving, his blade leaving increasingly elaborate patterns on the trees we passed. Some were geometric designs that reminded me of the celestial mathematics we used for complex workings. Others were more abstract, flowing curves and spirals that seemed to capture something about the forest's organic beauty.
"You know" Zephyr said suddenly, "I've been thinking about what you said. About learning and evolution in the energy patterns."
I glanced at him. "And?"
"What if it's not one entity, but a collective? Multiple consciousnesses working together to achieve effects none of them could manage individually?"
"Like humans?" Ezekiel's voice carried clear skepticism.
"Why not? Humans are already demonstrating basic cooperative behavior. They hunt in groups, share resources, coordinate their activities for mutual benefit. If some of them started developing paranatural abilities..."
"Then they'd probably use them to hit things harder with their stone clubs," Ezekiel finished dismissively.
I wasn't so sure. The energy readings we'd been sent to investigate showed remarkable sophistication. Whatever was generating them had moved far beyond trial-and-error experimentation into deliberate, purposeful manipulation of cosmic forces. That suggested either a very old, very powerful entity, or something that learned with extraordinary speed.
The snow continued to fall, adding to the accumulation underfoot and reducing visibility to perhaps fifty yards in any direction. Our enhanced senses compensated somewhat, but the weather was definitely making our patrol more challenging than usual.
"There" I said, pointing ahead through the swirling snow. "A clearing."
We emerged from the tree line into an open space perhaps a hundred yards across. The snowfall was heavier here, creating an almost ethereal atmosphere as flakes danced and swirled in patterns that seemed too organized to be entirely natural. At the far edge of the clearing stood several massive trees, their trunks wider than any others we'd encountered in the forest.
"Those are unusually large" Ezekiel observed, his trained eye assessing the ancient giants. "This region doesn't typically support specimens of that size."
Raphael, still carving patterns as we walked, approached the nearest of the massive trees. His blade bit into the bark with its usual precision, but instead of clear sap, something dark began to leak from the cut.
"That's... not normal" Zephyr said, moving closer to examine the wound.
I watched as Raphael stepped back, staring at his blade in confusion. The dark liquid coating the celestial steel was unlike anything I'd seen before, not quite black, but so deep a color that it seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. It moved with a viscosity that suggested life, flowing across the blade's surface in patterns that reminded me uncomfortably of veins or arteries.
"Raphael" I called. "What exactly did you cut?"
He looked up at me, his young face creased with confusion. "Just... just a tree. Like all the others. But this..." He held up his blade, watching the dark substance continue to flow across its surface. "This isn't sap."
The other three of us had continued walking, assuming his latest carving was just another manifestation of his nervous habit. It wasn't until we heard him call out that we turned back to see him standing motionless before the massive tree, his blade extended as if he were afraid to move.
"What is it?" I asked, retracing my steps through the snow.
"This tree" Raphael said slowly. "It's... it's bleeding. Actually bleeding."
I approached cautiously, my own blade ready in case this proved to be some form of threat. The cut Raphael had made was perhaps six inches long and an inch deep superficial by most standards. But the dark liquid that flowed from it was definitely not plant sap. It moved too deliberately, pooled too coherently, and carried a metallic scent that reminded me of spilled angel grace.
"Stand back" I commanded, raising my own blade.
With careful precision, I pressed the tip of my angel blade against the tree's bark, just below Raphael's original cut. The celestial steel penetrated easily, sliding through what appeared to be normal bark and wood. But the moment it broke through the outer layer, more of the dark liquid began to flow not just from my cut, but from Raphael's as well, as if the wounds were somehow connected beneath the surface.
"This isn't a tree," I said quietly, the implications beginning to dawn on me.
Ezekiel stepped forward, his millennia of experience giving weight to his assessment. "No" he agreed. "It's something else. Something disguised as a tree."
Zephyr circled the massive trunk, his blade ready as he searched for additional signs of the entity's true nature. "The bark feels wrong" he reported. "Too smooth in some places, too rough in others. Like something trying to mimic tree bark without quite understanding how it should feel."
I pressed my blade deeper, and the response was immediate. The dark liquid began to flow more rapidly, and I could swear I felt something like a pulse through the steel a rhythm too steady and purposeful to be mere coincidence.
"It's alive" I said, certainty crystallizing in my mind. "This entire tree is some kind of living entity."
Ezekiel didn't hesitate. His blade sang through the air as he drove it deep into the trunk several feet from my position. The effect was dramatic dark liquid began to flow from his wound as well, and the entire tree seemed to shudder, its massive branches swaying despite the lack of wind.
"Zephyr" I commanded. "Return to the garrison immediately. We need backup, and we need it now."
The younger angel nodded and spread his wings, six pairs of brilliant white feathers unfurling from his back. With a powerful stroke, he launched himself into the gray sky, disappearing into the swirling snow within moments.
"What do you think it is?" Raphael asked, his voice tight with concern as he watched the dark liquid continue to flow from our wounds.
"I don't know" I admitted. "But it's large enough to disguise itself as a tree this size, sophisticated enough to maintain the illusion for an extended period, and definitely not native to this reality."
Ezekiel pulled his blade free and immediately drove it into another section of the trunk. "The question is whether it's hostile or simply hiding."
As if in response to his words, the tree shuddered again, more violently this time. The dark liquid flowing from our cuts began to move with increased urgency, forming patterns across the bark that reminded me uncomfortably of writing symbols or letters in some script I didn't recognize. Off in the distance a loud sounding like thunder echoed out.
"I think" I said grimly, "we're about to find out."
Jesse POV (A few minutes earlier)
The area was buzzing with activity as merchants and travelers exchanged goods and information under the morning sun. I sat on a worn wooden stool beside one of the larger trading stalls, sipping bitter tea from a clay cup while observing the fascinating intersection of different cultures gathered here.
"The northern routes have been... difficult lately," said Korvak, the grizzled trader I'd been speaking with for the better part of an hour. His weathered hands sorted through a collection of intricately carved antler pieces as he spoke, each one depicting different animals in remarkable detail. "Strange things happening in the deep forests. Animals acting wrong, spirits growing angry."
I leaned forward, genuinely intrigued. In the weeks since I'd integrated with the hunting tribe, I'd heard whispers of supernatural disturbances throughout the region, but Korvak was the first person I'd met who claimed to have witnessed them firsthand.
"What kind of strange things?" I asked, keeping my voice casual despite my intense curiosity.
Korvak's eyes darted around the area, ensuring no one else was listening too closely before he continued in a lower voice. "Three nights past, camped near the pine ridges to the north. My pack animals sturdy beasts, been with me for years they refused to go any further. Just stood there, trembling like leaves in a storm, no matter how I coaxed them."
He paused to examine one of his carved pieces, turning it over in his gnarled hands. "And the silence... by the spirits, the silence was wrong. No birds, no insects, no rustling in the undergrowth. Like the whole forest was holding its breath, waiting for something terrible to happen."
"Did you see anything? Any sign of what might have caused it?"
"Nothing with my eyes" Korvak replied, shaking his head. "But felt it in my bones, I did. Something old and powerful moving through those woods. Something that don't belong in our world." He looked up at me with surprisingly sharp eyes. "You ask a lot of questions for someone so young. Most folk your age, they don't want to hear about such dark things."
I was about to respond when a sound cut through my consciousness like a blade of ice not audible to anyone else, but transmitted directly through my mental connection with Remedy. The voice that reached me was barely recognizable as my building-consciousness, transformed by pain and terror into something small and frightened.
'Jesse! Jesse, help me! They're hurting me! It hurts so much!
they're hurting us... cutting into us...'
The carved antler piece I'd been examining slipped from my suddenly nerveless fingers, clattering onto the hide-covered ground. Around me, the normal sounds of the trading continued—haggling voices, children playing, the crackling of cook fires—but they seemed muffled and distant compared to the agonized cry echoing in my mind.
There are angels here! Real angels with bright wings and swords! They cutting into me!
My blood went cold. Angels. Heaven's soldiers had found Remedy, and they were treating my partner as a threat to be eliminated. The pain in Remedy's mental voice was unlike anything I'd ever experienced through our connection—raw, immediate, desperate.
"Girl? Girl, are you alright?" Korvak's concerned voice seemed to come from very far away. "You've gone pale as winter snow."
'Jesse, please! I'm scared! They keep stabbing me and I don't know how to make them stop! I tried to hide but they can see through my disguise'
'The stabbing hurts... makes us feel broken... can't think straight...'
'Please come... please help... we're scared...'
The mental connection went silent. Not the comfortable absence of communication I was used to when Remedy was occupied with other tasks, but an abrupt, violent severing that left me feeling hollowed out and alone.
"I have to go," I said abruptly, scrambling to my feet. The trader was staring at me with growing concern, but I couldn't spare the mental energy to maintain my cover story. Remedy was in danger—possibly dying—and every second I delayed could be crucial.
"Where are you—" Korvak began, but I was already backing away from his stall.
"Something urgent," I called over my shoulder, pushing through the crowd of merchants and travelers with increasing desperation. "I'll... I'll return when I can."
I reached the edge of the village and plunged into the forest, abandoning all pretense of moving at human speeds the moment I was concealed by the trees. My physiology responded immediately as I starting Dashing, launching myself through the wilderness with explosive bursts of supernatural speed.
The ancient forest blurred past me as I chained dash after dash together, each burst carrying me dozens of yards in the blink of an eye. Branches whipped at my face and clothing, but my enhanced reflexes allowed me to weave between obstacles that would have been invisible to normal human perception. The familiar rush of energy flowing through my body was both exhilarating and terrifying I was moving faster than I ever had before, driven by a desperation I'd never felt.
'Hold on, Remedy' I projected toward where our mental link had been, hoping against hope that some part of my consciousness could still reach her. 'I'm coming. Just hold on.'
But there was no response.
As I rocketed through the forest, a new thought occurred to me. The route I was taking straight-line dashes between the largest trees was efficient but not optimal. Smaller trees and dense undergrowth were forcing me to weave and dodge, costing precious seconds. But I had abilities beyond just enhanced movement.
The next cluster of saplings appeared ahead of me, their thin trunks blocking my most direct path to Remedy. Instead of dodging around them, I focused my energy feeling energy surge through my arms and fists and being released right before I hit the trees. I hit the first sapling at full dash speed, my kinetically-charged impact shattering the young tree into splinters and pulp. The second and third trees exploded in similar fashion as I punched through them without slowing.
The sensation was brutally satisfying. Each tree that stood between me and Remedy was an obstacle to be obliterated, and my strikes were more than equal to the task. Bark and wood and leaves erupted around me as I carved a direct path through the forest, my fists leaving craters in anything solid enough to require more than simple displacement.
The familiar landmarks began to appear—the lightning-split oak where I'd first practiced my levitation, the moss-covered boulder where I'd hidden during a particularly intense thunderstorm, the small stream that marked the halfway point to Remedy's location. But instead of the relief I'd expected to feel at these signs of progress, my anxiety only intensified.
What if I was too late? What if the angels had already decided that Remedy was too dangerous to be allowed to exist? The thought of losing my partner my first real connection since awakening in this strange new reality made my chest tighten with an emotion I could barely name. Rage? Terror? Heartbreak? All of them at once, probably.
I reached the small clearing where I'd hidden the Service Weapon weeks ago, during my initial infiltration of the tribal settlement. The weapon was buried beneath a carefully arranged pile of stones and organic debris, concealed from casual observation but easily accessible if I needed it quickly. Which I definitely did now.
The fury that had been building during my desperate journey finally boiled over. Instead of carefully removing the concealing materials as I'd planned, I raised my fist and slammed it into the ground with all the kinetic force I could muster. The impact crater was immediate and devastating earth and stone exploded outward, leaving a smoking depression nearly three feet across and two feet deep. At the bottom, gleaming with its characteristic obsidian surface, lay the Service Weapon.
I snatched the gun from the crater, my fingers closing around its familiar grip with desperate relief. With a sharp twist of my wrist, I triggered the Service Weapon's transformation sequence. The weapon's components began to shift and reconfigure, geometric blocks sliding apart and reforming with precision. The elegant lines of the Grip form dissolved as the weapon rebuilt itself into the brutal, wide-muzzled configuration of Shatter mode.
As the transformation completed, I found myself humming a low, rhythmic sound that seemed to resonate with the paranatural energies flowing through my body. The tune was wordless but somehow familiar, like a half-remembered lullaby from a dream. The humming helped focus my abilities, channeling my rage and desperation into something more controlled and purposeful.
I began moving again, but this time I combined my dash ability with strategic use of handholds—grabbing branches, tree trunks, and rocky outcroppings to redirect my momentum and achieve even greater speeds. The technique was something I'd experimented with before but never used in earnest. Now, with Remedy's life potentially hanging in the balance, I pushed the limits of what my enhanced physiology could achieve.
Dash to a sturdy oak, grab a low branch, use the anchor point to slingshot myself at an angle that would have been impossible with running alone. Dash to a granite outcropping, plant my hand against the stone, redirect my trajectory toward the next cluster of trees. Each maneuver chained seamlessly into the next, creating a three-dimensional path through the forest that was both faster and more direct than anything achievable through simple ground movement.
The trees began to thin as I approached the edge of the clearing, my heart hammering against my ribs with each explosive dash. The humming that had been building in my throat reached a crescendo that seemed to make the very air vibrate around me, the Service Weapon's obsidian surface glowing with angry red energy that pulsed in perfect rhythm with my rage.
Then the forest opened up, and what I saw made my blood turn to ice.
Remedy stood in the center of the clearing, her massive tree disguise marred by deep, weeping wounds that leaked dark fluid down her bark-covered surface. Two angels flanked her enormous trunk, their pristine white wings spread wide as they drove gleaming silver blades into her flesh with methodical precision. Each strike drew more of that terrible dark blood, and I could see the pain in the way her branches trembled despite the absence of any wind.
The angels were everything the old stories had described and more—tall, imposing figures wrapped in celestial grace, their features sharp and beautiful in that cold, inhuman way that suggested they'd never known doubt or suffering. Their armor gleamed like polished starlight, and their six-foot wingspans cast dramatic shadows across the snow-covered ground. They moved with the casual confidence of beings who had never encountered anything they couldn't simply unmake with righteous fire.
That confidence was about to get them killed.
One of the angels a younger-looking one with sandy hair and nervous energy noticed my approach first. His head snapped up from his grisly work, pale eyes widening as he took in my appearance: a human woman in primitive tribal clothing, carrying a weapon that definitely didn't belong in this time period, humming with barely contained paranatural energy.
"Ezekiel" he called to his companion, voice tight with alarm. "We have a problem."
The older angel turned, his millennia of experience immediately recognizing me as a threat despite my human appearance. His grip tightened on his blade as he began to extract it from Remedy's wounded trunk, but he was nowhere near fast enough.
I was already moving.
The dash carried me across the clearing in a heartbeat, but instead of targeting either angel directly, I launched myself skyward at a angle at the last second, my trajectory carrying me high above their heads. The younger angel—the one who'd first spotted me—began to react, his wings spreading as he prepared to intercept my aerial approach.
He never had the chance.
I brought my knee up with all the kinetic force I could generate. The impact caught him squarely in the chest, and I felt ribs crack under the devastating blow. But instead of letting him fly backward from the impact, I wrapped him in a telekinetic grip the moment we made contact, holding him in place like a fly trapped in amber.
His eyes went wide with shock and pain as he realized he couldn't move, couldn't escape, couldn't even fall. The other angel was shouting something it could of been a warning, a command, a prayer but his words were lost in the rush of adrenaline and fury that filled my consciousness.
Using my telekinetic grip like a lever, I slammed the captured angel backward against Remedy's trunk with bone-crushing force. The impact drove the air from his lungs in a strangled gasp, but I wasn't finished. I drove my knee forward again, this time targeting the small of his back as he bounced off the tree. The sickening crack of his spine snapping was audible even over the chaos of the moment.
Bright silver blood—angel grace—erupted from his mouth as his body went limp in my telekinetic hold. His wings fluttered once, twice, then hung motionless as his life force began to hemorrhage from the wound.
The effect on his companion was immediate and dramatic. The older angel stumbled backward, his blade forgotten as he stared in horror at his dying brother. His mouth moved soundlessly, as if his mind couldn't quite process what he'd just witnessed a human, a primitive mortal, had just killed an angel with her bare hands.
I released my telekinetic hold, letting the broken angel's body crumple to the snow-covered ground like a discarded doll. Already, his form was beginning to fade at the edges, celestial grace bleeding out of the fatal wounds I'd inflicted.
'Remedy' I called out through our mental connection, my consciousness reaching forward with concern. 'How are you? Are you okay?'
'I'm... I'm fine, Jesse.' Her response came back immediately, but I could hear the tremor in her mental voice, as if she was trying so hard to sound brave and strong despite the trauma she'd endured. 'Just some surface damage. Nothing that won't heal.'
The lie was obvious, but I couldn't blame her for trying to protect me from worrying. Through our connection, I could sense the deeper truth the angel blades had carved deep wounds in her structure, and some of the damage might be permanent. The bastards had been trying to kill her, carving her apart piece by piece.
I moved to her trunk and placed my palm against the wounded bark, feeling the warm pulse of her consciousness beneath the disguised surface. Without thinking, I leaned forward and pressed my lips gently against the tree, a soft kiss that carried all the affection and relief I felt at finding her still alive.
'Remedy' I whispered through our link. 'I need you to close off your senses. Don't watch what's about to happen. Don't listen. Just... disconnect until I tell you it's safe.'
There was a pause, then her mental voice came back smaller and more childlike than usual. 'Okay, Jesse. I trust you.'
I felt her consciousness withdraw, her awareness of the external world dimming as she pulled her perception inward to the safe depths of her internal structure. It was better this way. What I was about to do wasn't something she needed to witness.
The surviving angel was still backing away, his face pale with shock and growing rage. I could see the moment when his disbelief transformed into righteous fury his grip tightened on his blade, his wings spread wide, and divine light began to blaze around him like a holy corona.
I bent down and picked up the dead angel's sword, the celestial blade surprisingly light in my grip despite its obvious power. The metal hummed with residual grace, and I could feel it trying to burn my flesh where we made contact. But whatever changes had been made allowed me to wield the weapon without suffering the agonizing burns that should have reduced my hand to ash.
The surviving angel opened his mouth, probably to deliver some sanctimonious speech about divine justice and the punishment of mortals who dared strike down Heaven's soldiers. I didn't give him the chance.
The Service Weapon bucked in my left hand as I squeezed the trigger twice in rapid succession. The Shatter form unleashed twin bursts of fragmenting matter that caught the angel center mass, tearing through his celestial armor like tissue paper. He managed one strangled cry before the second shot obliterated his chest cavity, sending him tumbling backward in a spray of silver blood and dissipating grace.
His body hit the ground hard, wings splayed at unnatural angles, the divine light in his eyes already beginning to fade. Within seconds, both angels were nothing more than rapidly dissolving corpses, their bodies returning to the cosmic energies from which they'd been formed.
But even as their bodies faded, I could hear something that made my blood run cold, the thunder of approaching wings. Many wings.
They came from every direction at once, descending from the gray sky like a divine avalanche. Seventeen angels in full battle array, their weapons drawn and their faces set in expressions of righteous wrath. They landed in a perfect circle around me, cutting off every possible escape route with military precision.
These weren't the same class of angel I'd just killed. Where the first two had been scouts or something similar, these were warriors the kind Heaven sent when they needed something dead and wanted to be absolutely certain it stayed that way. Their armor was heavier, their weapons larger, and the divine light that surrounded them burned with an intensity that would have blinded normal human eyes.
The one who seemed to be their leader—a tall figure with six wings and a sword that blazed like a captured star—stepped forward, his voice carrying the authority of absolute divine conviction.
"Mortal" he commanded, his words resonating with power that tried to compel obedience through sheer celestial force. "You will kneel. You will submit to judgment for the crime of harming Heaven's servants. Your death will be swift if you comply."
I looked around the circle of hostile angels, taking in their positions, their weapons, their obvious confidence that this would be a simple execution rather than a fight. Then I threw back my head and laughed a sound filled with such bitter amusement that several of the warriors actually took involuntary steps backward.
"Angels You want me to kneel?" I asked, raising the captured angel blade so its celestial steel caught the light. "You want me to submit to judgment? After what you did to her?"
I gestured toward Remedy's wounded trunk with the Service Weapon, my voice dropping to a tone that could have frozen hellfire. "You attacked someone under my protection. Someone I care about. Someone who has never harmed a single living being in her entire existence."
The leader's expression hardened. "The entity you defend is an abomination, a construct that threatens the stability of reality itself. Its existence cannot be permitted."
"Her existence" I corrected, my grip tightening on both weapons. "And you're wrong about everything else, too."
"Mortal, you do not understand the forces you meddle with," another angel called out, his voice carrying frustrated concern. "That creature is not what it appears to be. It is a threat to the natural order to the very fabric of creation."
"The only threat here" I said, my humming resuming as paranatural energy began to flow through my enhanced physiology, "is what's about to happen to all of you."
I could see the moment when they realized I wasn't going to surrender, wasn't going to beg for mercy or try to negotiate. The leader's eyes hardened to chips of celestial ice, and his flaming sword brightened to the intensity of a small sun.
"So be it" he declared. "If you choose damnation over redemption, we will accommodate your wishes."
I slid my feet slightly apart, settling into a combat stance that felt natural despite my complete lack of formal training with angelic weaponry.
"This is personal now" I told them, my voice carrying across the clearing with deadly certainty. "Every single one of you is going to die for what you did to Remedy. And I promise you it's going to hurt."
The moment hung suspended like a drop of water about to fall twenty angels arranged in a perfect circle around me I apparently missed one when looking earlier, their divine weapons raised and blazing with celestial fire, while I stood at the center with a stolen angel blade in one hand and the Service Weapon humming with paranatural energy in the other. The air itself seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the violence to begin.
Then the leader's sword swept downward in a gesture of command, and hell broke loose.
They came at me from all directions simultaneously, a coordinated assault designed to overwhelm any opponent through sheer numbers and divine might. Wings spread wide, they launched themselves through the air with inhuman speed, their blades trailing streams of holy fire as they descended upon me like avenging stars.
I moved on pure instinct, my enhanced reflexes taking over as twenty different death sentences converged on my position. The first angel to reach me—a warrior with armor that gleamed like polished obsidian—brought his sword down in a two-handed strike meant to cleave me from crown to groin. I caught his blade on the stolen angel sword, the clash of celestial steel against celestial steel sending shockwaves through the frozen ground beneath my feet.
The impact nearly tore the weapon from my grip. Whatever enhanced strength I possessed, it wasn't quite enough to match an angel's might in a straight contest of raw power. But I didn't need to overpower them I just needed to survive long enough to kill them all.
As the first angel's blade slid down mine in a shower of sparks, I brought the Service Weapon up and squeezed the trigger. The Shatter form discharged a burst of fragments that caught him in the side, tearing through his armor and sending him stumbling backward with silver grace bleeding from the wound. Not a killing blow, but enough to buy me precious seconds.
The next two angels arrived before the first had even finished falling. I spun left, using my momentum to deflect one blade while firing the Service Weapon at point-blank range into the second attacker's chest. The projectile punched through his breastplate like it was made of paper, and he dropped to the snow with his grace already beginning to dissipate.
One down. Nineteen to go.
But the third angel was already on me, his blade carving a burning arc through the air toward my neck. I ducked low, feeling the celestial steel pass close enough to singe my hair, and brought the stolen sword up in a rising cut that caught him across the thigh. The angel blade parted his divine flesh like butter, and he screamed and it sounded like breaking crystal that made my teeth ache.
As he staggered back, clutching his wounded leg, I put a burst through his skull. The fragmenting cubes reduced his head to silver mist, and his body collapsed into the snow, already beginning to fade.
Two down.
The remaining angels had learned something from watching their brothers die. Instead of attacking individually, they began to coordinate their assaults, working in teams to limit my mobility and force me into disadvantageous positions. Three came at me from the left while two more flanked right, and another pair dropped from above with their swords extended like falling spears.
I activated my dash ability, launching myself backward through the space between two of the encircling warriors. The sudden burst of speed caught them off-guard, but not for long. Angel reflexes were almost as enhanced as mine, and they adjusted their formation with fluid precision.
A blade kissed my shoulder as I landed, parting the fabric of my tribal clothing and drawing a line of fire across my skin. The wound burned like nothing I'd ever experienced not just physical pain, but something deeper, as if the celestial steel was trying to sear my very soul. I bit back a scream and kept moving, firing the Service Weapon at the angel who'd cut me while using the stolen blade to parry another strike aimed at my heart.
It caught the angel center mass, but his armor deflected most of the impact. He stumbled but didn't fall, his divine protection proving more effective against my weapon than I'd hoped. I was going to have to get creative.
Two more angels pressed their attack, forcing me to give ground as their coordinated strikes pushed me toward the edge of the clearing. I could feel Remedy's presence behind me, her consciousness still withdrawn as I'd requested, but her massive form providing a solid barrier that the angels couldn't easily circle around.
That gave me an idea.
Instead of continuing to retreat, I suddenly reversed direction, dashing directly toward the two angels in front of me. They raised their blades to intercept, expecting another defensive maneuver. Instead, I dropped into a slide at the last second, passing beneath their guard while firing the Service Weapon upward at point-blank range.
The Shatter burst caught the left-hand angel in the groin, tearing through his armor and opening wounds that bled grace like silver waterfalls. He folded over the injury with a strangled cry, leaving his neck exposed. I came up from my slide and drove the stolen angel blade through his throat in a single fluid motion. The celestial steel parted his flesh with almost no resistance, and his divine light immediately began to fade. As his body crumpled, I spun to face his partner, but another angel was already moving to intercept—a warrior with wings and a sword that burned like a miniature sun.
His blade met mine in a shower of sparks, the impact sending vibrations up my arm that rattled my teeth. He was stronger than the others, more skilled, and his follow-up strikes came so fast they blurred together into a continuous stream of deadly steel. I gave ground, using every ounce of my enhanced reflexes to keep his blade from finding my vitals.
But I was fighting a losing battle. Each parry sent jolts of pain through my arms, and I could feel my guard beginning to weaken under his relentless assault. Worse, the other angels were moving to flank me again, and soon I'd be surrounded with no room to maneuver.
Time for a different approach.
Instead of trying to match his sword work, I feinted left and then dashed right, using my supernatural speed to open up distance between us. As he turned to follow, I brought the Service Weapon to bear and held down the trigger, unleashing burst after burst of fragmenting projectiles.
The first few shots sparked off his armor, but the concentrated fire began to tell. His breastplate cracked, then shattered, exposing the divine flesh beneath. The next burst of fragments tore into his chest, and he staggered backward with grace bleeding from multiple wounds.
I didn't give him time to recover. Another dash closed the distance between us, and I drove the stolen angel blade deep into his side, angling upward toward his heart. The celestial steel found its mark, and his eyes went wide with shock before the divine light within them began to fade.
Four down. Sixteen to go.
But the cost was mounting. Another blade found my back as I finished off the powerful angel, carving a burning line between my shoulder blades. I spun away from the strike, firing the Service Weapon blindly behind me, and felt the satisfaction of hearing an angel cry out in pain.
The wound on my back felt like liquid fire, the celestial steel had to be leaving traces of its essence in my flesh. Every movement sent fresh waves of agony through my nervous system, but I forced myself to ignore the pain. Remedy was counting on me, and I wasn't going to let her down.
The remaining angels had formed a tighter circle now, learning from the mistakes of their fallen brothers. They attacked in carefully coordinated waves, never giving me the chance to isolate individual targets or exploit gaps in their formation. Blade after blade whistled through the air around me, and only my reflexes kept them from finding vital organs.
But I was accumulating damage. A cut across my left arm that sent grace-fire racing through my veins. A shallow slice along my ribs that felt like it was trying to burn to my spine. A nick on my thigh that made every step feel like walking on broken glass.
The next wave came from three directions simultaneously, a classic pincer movement designed to force me into an impossible choice. Left, right, or straight ahead, each path led directly into the reach of an angel's burning blade. I chose the most unexpected option and dashed backward, using Remedy's massive trunk as an anchor point to redirect my momentum.
But as I spun to face the pursuing angels, one of them moved faster than I'd anticipated.
The warrior had eyes like chips of frozen starlight. His blade swept through the air in a perfect horizontal arc, too fast for me to fully dodge despite my enhanced reflexes. I managed to lean back, avoiding the killing stroke aimed at my throat, but the celestial steel found its mark anyway.
The blade carved across both my eyes in a single, devastating cut.
The pain was indescribable—not just the physical agony of steel parting flesh, but something far worse. Celestial grace poured into the wounds like liquid fire, and I felt my vision explode into white-hot agony before plunging into absolute darkness. The grace burned as it traveled deeper, searing the delicate tissues of my eyes with divine essence that felt like molten silver being poured directly into my brain.
I stumbled backward, one hand instinctively rising toward my ruined face, when I felt something punch through my back with devastating force. Another angel had circled behind me during my moment of blindness, driving his blade deep between my shoulder blades. The point emerged from my chest just below my heart, celestial steel burning through flesh and bone like it was tissue paper.
Grace flooded my system through both wounds simultaneously. It felt like being struck by lightning made of holy fire, every nerve ending in my body screaming in unison as divine energy rampaged through my bloodstream. My enhanced physiology fought against the celestial toxin, but the pain was overwhelming, threatening to drive me to my knees.
But pain also brought clarity. And rage.
I couldn't see them anymore, but I could hear the rustle of feathers, the whisper of steel through air, the soft sounds of their breathing. The angel behind me was still holding his blade in place, probably savoring what he thought was a killing blow. The one who'd blinded me was moving in for the finishing stroke, confident that a sightless opponent posed no further threat.
They were about to learn how wrong they were.
I brought the Service Weapon up and fired blindly, squeezing the trigger as fast as the Shatter form would cycle. Fragmenting projectiles filled the air around me, and I was rewarded by two distinct cries of pain as the angels realized their mistake in closing to melee range.
The first scream cut off abruptly a direct hit that punched through armor and flesh alike. The second cry turned into a gurgling sound that told me the angel was choking on his own grace. Both threats neutralized, but at a cost I was only beginning to understand.
The blade in my back shifted as its wielder died, the angel's final convulsions pulling the celestial steel free in a spray of mixed blood and grace. The withdrawal sent fresh waves of agony through my torso, and I could feel my blood beginning to flow freely from the wound.
But it was my eyes that truly terrified me. I raised a trembling hand to my face, fingers finding the ruined remains of my eye sockets. What I felt there made my stomach lurch it wasnt just torn flesh and flowing blood, but something that felt wrong on a fundamental level. The grace that had burned through my eyes was still there, still active, preventing the wounds from closing properly. My blood felt hot against my fingers, almost scalding, and carried a metallic scent that reminded me of burning copper.