It was beyond this life but before the next. A war raged that would decide the fate of our realm, and we had no say in who played a part. On one side stood Michael, Angel of the most high order, commander of the Celestial armies. Beneath him in rank were Angels, beings of mortal birth ascended to Celestial might, and Celestia, those born to fight the shadow possessed by the other side of this war.
Across from this army stood Lucifer, clad as an Angel, mighty in the greatest of ways. Beneath him stood Devils, those beings of mortal birth who turned evil at some time in existence. Beneath them were Demons, Angels and Celestia fallen from glory.
These sides war for our sake, some to oppress, others to glorify! The war is deadly and dark, worse than the most gruesome of mortal wars, atrocities committed that would warp mortal minds and bend eternal spirits.
Now the war has reached its apex, the point where all would be decided. At the front of each army stood the commanders, Michael and Lucifer. To a mortal they could be brothers, hair glimmering faintly with light, though dark in color, eyes a glorious blue. They stood there clad in armor that shone like the noon-day sun. By their sides stood their lieutenants. Michael?s Angels, men filled with glorious energy, and his Celestia, winged hunters with feral glares and weapons to match. Next to Lucifer stood the Devils, men cloaked in shadows, deep and dark in mind and body. Also were the Demons, the same as the other side, but with hollow gazes and howling for blood to be spilt.
"This is it, Michael, whomever survives this day decides the fate of mortals." Lucifer sneered, for once his glory seeming false.
"Perhaps. I fight only because I am apposed, I would have this resolved peacefully." Michael lowered his eyes in shame of needing to be armed and armored.
Lucifer laughed. "Then let it begin!" He charged, his army with him. Michael and his band raised arms in defense, clashing with their foe. Horns in the ranks sounded, the beginning of the end had come.
Demons struck Celestia, striking their one time allies with a bloodlust unduplicated by mortal men. The ground was stained and the army of Michael waned. He fought bravely, rallying his men to the cause, forgetting his life for the defense of the world he had left long ago.
Lucifer seemed to enjoy the sight of blood as those he'd once been part of died by his command. Devils struck, the only ones on this battle field one could tell from another by sight.
"They cannot win!" He thought. He would be victorious this day.
Then Michael stood before him, glorious even when covered in his enemies blood.
"You are the threat to peace, Lucifer!" He pointed his blade at his counterpart, his anti-essence. "You feed them your power, they have none of their own! I will strike you down now, even if it costs me my life!" He charged, his blade raised.
Lucifer smiled a sickly sweet smile and raised a hand, an energy stopping the blade as it struck his palm. "I have not spilled blood here, Michael, you have." He grinned. "And so you cannot kill the innocent."
"You are not innocent!" He pulled back his blade and struck out again, Lucifer stepping away from the down swing.
"I am, for never have I killed, never have I lied, never have I broken my oaths." He nodded slowly. "But you stand before me covered in the blood of my servants, armed and ready to kill."
Michael stared in disbelief. Was he wrong, could he be? He'd served his purpose for his life, attempting to protect the world below. Could Lucifer be doing the same, only wish the best for the world they fought over?
"No, you lie! You want the world for your throne!" Michael sheathed his blade and struck with a bare fist. This struck Lucifer across the chin, dropping him to the ground.
From the ground Lucifer looked up, this was unexpected. Now Michael was fighting for a cause he knew to be true, and was using his own power over steel. Lucifer stood, regaining his dignity.
"I am going to have it too." He swung, all dignity forgotten. Now they were locked in a battle of control, fists and power were all that mattered. Each strike hit, and each blow weakened the opponent.
About them the war continued, blood spilling, the Devils and Angels striking with equal measure now, the Demons and Celestia striking as well. Forgotten was any sign of higher power, of glory. They fought, they killed, they twisted. Such was what war did to even the glorious.
Finally Michael struck a blow that dropped Lucifer to the ground. He stood above him, breathing heavily. On the ground, Lucifer's eyes widened in fear.
"The end is now. Glory to mortals as is their right. I will not kill you, for it would not be my way. You shall be bound, you and all that serve you!" About them the war stopped, the soulless and the dark suddenly bound by powers beyond any of them. Lucifer was similarly bound and all led to a plane to be forgotten.
Below, the mortal realm spun once more, and the men there never knew fate had judged them, nor that they had heroes that would never now be celebrated, nor foes that would be cursed, and so life went on.
Across from this army stood Lucifer, clad as an Angel, mighty in the greatest of ways. Beneath him stood Devils, those beings of mortal birth who turned evil at some time in existence. Beneath them were Demons, Angels and Celestia fallen from glory.
These sides war for our sake, some to oppress, others to glorify! The war is deadly and dark, worse than the most gruesome of mortal wars, atrocities committed that would warp mortal minds and bend eternal spirits.
Now the war has reached its apex, the point where all would be decided. At the front of each army stood the commanders, Michael and Lucifer. To a mortal they could be brothers, hair glimmering faintly with light, though dark in color, eyes a glorious blue. They stood there clad in armor that shone like the noon-day sun. By their sides stood their lieutenants. Michael?s Angels, men filled with glorious energy, and his Celestia, winged hunters with feral glares and weapons to match. Next to Lucifer stood the Devils, men cloaked in shadows, deep and dark in mind and body. Also were the Demons, the same as the other side, but with hollow gazes and howling for blood to be spilt.
"This is it, Michael, whomever survives this day decides the fate of mortals." Lucifer sneered, for once his glory seeming false.
"Perhaps. I fight only because I am apposed, I would have this resolved peacefully." Michael lowered his eyes in shame of needing to be armed and armored.
Lucifer laughed. "Then let it begin!" He charged, his army with him. Michael and his band raised arms in defense, clashing with their foe. Horns in the ranks sounded, the beginning of the end had come.
Demons struck Celestia, striking their one time allies with a bloodlust unduplicated by mortal men. The ground was stained and the army of Michael waned. He fought bravely, rallying his men to the cause, forgetting his life for the defense of the world he had left long ago.
Lucifer seemed to enjoy the sight of blood as those he'd once been part of died by his command. Devils struck, the only ones on this battle field one could tell from another by sight.
"They cannot win!" He thought. He would be victorious this day.
Then Michael stood before him, glorious even when covered in his enemies blood.
"You are the threat to peace, Lucifer!" He pointed his blade at his counterpart, his anti-essence. "You feed them your power, they have none of their own! I will strike you down now, even if it costs me my life!" He charged, his blade raised.
Lucifer smiled a sickly sweet smile and raised a hand, an energy stopping the blade as it struck his palm. "I have not spilled blood here, Michael, you have." He grinned. "And so you cannot kill the innocent."
"You are not innocent!" He pulled back his blade and struck out again, Lucifer stepping away from the down swing.
"I am, for never have I killed, never have I lied, never have I broken my oaths." He nodded slowly. "But you stand before me covered in the blood of my servants, armed and ready to kill."
Michael stared in disbelief. Was he wrong, could he be? He'd served his purpose for his life, attempting to protect the world below. Could Lucifer be doing the same, only wish the best for the world they fought over?
"No, you lie! You want the world for your throne!" Michael sheathed his blade and struck with a bare fist. This struck Lucifer across the chin, dropping him to the ground.
From the ground Lucifer looked up, this was unexpected. Now Michael was fighting for a cause he knew to be true, and was using his own power over steel. Lucifer stood, regaining his dignity.
"I am going to have it too." He swung, all dignity forgotten. Now they were locked in a battle of control, fists and power were all that mattered. Each strike hit, and each blow weakened the opponent.
About them the war continued, blood spilling, the Devils and Angels striking with equal measure now, the Demons and Celestia striking as well. Forgotten was any sign of higher power, of glory. They fought, they killed, they twisted. Such was what war did to even the glorious.
Finally Michael struck a blow that dropped Lucifer to the ground. He stood above him, breathing heavily. On the ground, Lucifer's eyes widened in fear.
"The end is now. Glory to mortals as is their right. I will not kill you, for it would not be my way. You shall be bound, you and all that serve you!" About them the war stopped, the soulless and the dark suddenly bound by powers beyond any of them. Lucifer was similarly bound and all led to a plane to be forgotten.
Below, the mortal realm spun once more, and the men there never knew fate had judged them, nor that they had heroes that would never now be celebrated, nor foes that would be cursed, and so life went on.
