The air smelt of iron, and the wind swirled in invisible eddies. Blood covered the ground like a red sea, and the soil thirsty drank it all. A layer of beast corpses floated atop the shallow sea, each perfectly split into two pieces. The twenty-six remaining children of Adam observed the scene with concern.

Micheal turned to Serceno with a frown. “There were cleaner ways to deal with this.”

Serceno ignored him, his aura of sharpness severing the air as he slowly sheathed the blade at his side.

Micheal sighed. “Promoth, please clean up this mess.”

Promoth nodded, and with a gesture, hungry violet flames rushed across the plain, devouring the corpses, now devoid of protective spirituality.

Micheal turned to Thoth with a frown. “What do you make of this?”

Thoth turned, his bald head glimmering in the sun. “He’s trying to wear us down. Soften us up for the final blow.” He joined Micheal in frowning. “However, the fact he can afford to throw away this many troops, even an awakened beast.” He indicated the corpse of the strange fire breathing crow. “is concerning. They must have far more than we originally estimated.”

Micheal turned to Heimdall. “What do you see?”

“My view is mostly obscured, but Thoth is right. There are far more than there should be.”

Their faces were grim as they processed that information.

It was true. The forces arrayed against them were staggering. It was unbelievable how fast the beasts had grown. Sometimes, I even wondered if I had chosen the right side. The beast princes especially wielded immensely powerful concepts, although they came through instinct and blood rather than true creation, true knowledge like humanity. Sometimes, I wondered if the beasts would have a better chance of ascending.

But… power inherited is not the way to divinity. One must forge their own.

I looked at them, truly looked at them. They were cruel and merciless, even in their awakened forms. It was no fault of their own, merely their nature, and yet… Could a being capable of such blatant cruelty truly be capable of gazing upon a masterwork and appreciating it to its fullest extent.

No.

I had made my choice.

I just hoped my chosen would triumph.

Micheal sent Artemis, Venti, Erebo and Heimdall out to assess the truth of the threat they faced, blending the silent hunt, the four winds, the endless darkness and unblockable eyes in gambit to find out the truth of their foes.

The rest of them went to the younger generation.

War was on the horizon, and they had to make sure their descendants were prepared.

—----------------------------------------------------------

Micheal watched unseen with mixed emotions as his descendants slaughtered the small army of encroaching beasts. The number of wandering packs had increased in the past week and while they had found them good practice for the younger generation, it was growing to the point where they were becoming overwhelming.

The scouting party he had sent out had yet to return, but he was growing increasingly concerned as more and more roving parties appeared in his land. At first, he had declared the land protected, leveraging authority to slay every beast in his territory over the acceptable threshold , but such a wide working meant any party led by an awakened beast of sufficient power could force their way through.

And force their way through they had, with the number of parties led by awakened beasts growing to concerning numbers.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Still, Micheal didn’t interfere as his descendants fought below. This was the baptism that would prepare them for the true battle.

They were fighting one of the largest armies, one with hundreds of beasts and nearly half a dozen awakened beasts. His son, Gilded, led the small band of about ten humans standing in defiance. He watched as invisible tendrils of meaning carried power and energy between them, allowing them to act as one unit. A strange miasma covered half the battlefield as Hypno, one of Erebo and Astra’s children, lured the beasts into drowsy vulnerability. Others flashed through the battlefield, striking down beasts with manifestations of dense meaning, some simple and elemental like spears of rock and bolts of lighting, and others more abstract like the concept of cutting the life-string and armor of manifested courage.

And through the bonds of unity running through them, they could each draw upon each other's paths.

It was a foreign way of fighting Micheal, or surrendering power to a greater collective. Of relying on the power of others to carve your place in the world. But he approved of it.

Individual humans would not remain so bright forever. He could already see their souls dimming with each generation, and if it continued like that, there would be nobody capable of standing on their own. Humanity would need a new way to stand in this vast world, and such a unity was the perfect thing.

He chuckled quietly to himself. First they had to survive.

He watched for a few more minutes, savoring how his children had grown, before awareness brushed the corner of his consciousness.

The scouts were back, and they were wounded.

—-------------------------------------

A frantic hour later found them back in the council hall. Artemis, Erebo, Venti, and Heimdall had all been badly wounded, but after the ministrations of Hestia, Sol and a few of the younger generation on paths of life, they were back to normal.

Mostly.

“It's bad.” Heimdall said, “Much worse than we thought. They have tens of thousands of normal beasts and hundreds of awakened beasts, and more are still streaming in. Even worse, I saw a dozen beasts on par with us.”

“Impossible!” Hercules yelled, “I killed all the crown princes! And we couldn't not have missed that many powerful beasts.”

Heimdall sighed. “Dargonth sealed them, and obscured them from my vision with powerful workings of will and truth.”

Artemis spoke up. “It's true. It's really bad. If Hercules had not prematurely taken out the three strongest princes, the situation might be hopeless. But even now it's bad. This is no longer just war. This is the end.”

The hall was filled with uncertain murmuring, but nobody shirked back from the truth.

They were the children of Adam, progenitors of the human race, and they would not back down from a hopeless battle, much less one still winnable. Still, it lay heavy across their broad shoulders.

Micheal rose from his throne and stepped forward. “This changes nothing. Some of us will not live past the month, but so what? We will die pursuing our paths, pursuing our truths. Is there really anything else we can ask for? No, we will not cower back. We will not hide on our thrones.”

Thoth stepped off his throne as well, his aura erupting out of him, its normally scholarly nature taking on aspects of war, making him feel like a seasoned general. “No we will not. In fact, we will take the war to them. Utterly destroy them before they can gain further reinforcements.”

Auras began to reveal themselves, the prospect of putting it all on the line in one strike awakening them. Demigods rose from their thrones and walked forward to join Micheal and Thoth in the center of the marble temple, right over a mosaic of Adam and Eve, lovingly made by Hephas and Saraswa. With each step their auras surged, revealing different facets of their paths, different facets of their beings.

There in that temple, under the impending possibility of their demise, the children of Adam shed their mortal skin, revealing to the world what they truly were. Embodiments of supreme concepts, impressed upon the world by wills great enough to resist the wheel of time itself. Time, Space, Fire, Knowledge, Sharpness, Creation, Destruction, Law, Strength, and a million other conceptions joined a soup of meaning that warped reality around it, unmaking and remaking nature's laws as it willed.

Micheal joined them in shedding their mortal forms as his crown began to glow golden, the influence of its physical makeup fading. Pure authority surged out of him, a presence that demanded everything else kneel before it. For a second, even his mantle flickered into existence, redoubling his presence with its authority.

They stayed there for a long minutes, surrounded by a raging storm of meaning, each giving their ascent to the plan.

Then they stepped back, cloaking themselves in mortal skin once more, sparing the world the burden of their presences.

For a moment there was silence. Then Hephas spoke.

“Come by my workshop, and I'll finish your weapons.”

With that, the children of Adam dispersed to reflect over what could very well be their last night.

Either way, they would fight to the end.