Rebellion and Regrets
Absolution sighed as he leaned in against his seat, taking in deep calming breaths to tame the anger and disappointment that came unbidden when he gazed up at Azazel. As much as he wanted to think he was in charge, he still had remnants, the burning embers, of those before him inside his heart. All the pain and sorrow just bubbling to the surface, threatening to spill over. Still, he did not let it win, forcing it down as he reminded himself why he wanted to talk to Azazel; he wanted to end this rebellion.
“So what can I get you old man? Whisky, Vodka, Absinthe, or just plain old wine?” Azazel asked as he walked up to a rather erotically decorated alcohol cabinet, with carvings of nuns doing it with angels, and riffled through the selection, “I know I have some Judean vintage around here. Remember Solomon? Good times, good times.”
“I’ll have some Absinthe if you will. I’ve always been curious about what it tastes like,” He replied honestly. He really was curious about what it tasted like and all he’d ever had in heaven was wine. Besides, riding the green dragon seemed like a fun idea. Who knew, maybe it could ease him up for later.
The man paused as he looked back at him before snorting and cracking a cocky grin, “Looks like someone’s feeling adventurous today,” The man chuckled as he pulled out a green tinged bottle, some short stemmed glass with bulging bottoms, a perforated spoon, and some sugar cubes. With a snap of his finger, a small decanter appeared with mist wafting from its surface as it came into contact with the air inside the tent.
He watched in fascination as the Fallen Angel placed the sugar cube atop the spoon before letting water from the decanter wash over the sugar as it was held over the drink. He leaned closely as the man stirred the drink, producing a milky liquid from the previously clear drink they had, “One order of Absinthe, on the house,” The man then said as he offered the drink.
He smiled back as he grabbed the drink and without a second of hesitation, downed it. That might’ve been a mistake, however, as he ended up coughing; the taste of licorice flooding his mouth. He blanched at the taste as he set it aside. It looked cool, but it was more of an acquired taste from the feel of it.
The fallen angel laughed at him while he could only pout back in response, “Maybe something more familiar,” The man then said as he picked up the drink and downed it without any problem before pouring Absolution a cup of wine.
The man returned to his seat, nursing himself another cup of Absinthe while he was left with his cup of wine. With drinks served and the tension in the room easing up, they could finally talk. The jovial look on the gruff looking man slowly faded away as his gaze hardened, his eyes watching him while Absolution drank his wine to wash away the taste of his first drink, “Let’s cut to the chase, what the hell do you want, old man? You clearly need something from me if you’re using that, so spill,” He asked him as he took a sip from his cup.
Absolution felt a grin spread across his face as he answered, “I’m going to allow Angels to have sex with someone outside of marriage.” Oh he was going to tell him about the truce, but it felt like it would be better for his hedonistic son to hear some good news before they got to some of the heavier stuff. The coughing fit the blonde had was just a happy coincidence.
“W-what?!” The man coughed out, wiping away a stray tear from his eyes as he looked at him in surprise while he pounded on his chest.
“Well, I’m actually lowering the restrictions I have on angels such as falling due to the slightest hiccups because I just realized how restrictive it was, but yes, it’s mostly for sex. Angels can now have sex outside of marriage if there’s no cheating or any depraved shit involved,” He explained. The system in place was truly insane. Yes, Angels were different from humanity but this wasn’t humane. He did not need that much control over the lives of angels when he already had enough with humans.
“I swear you did that on purpose,” The man growled out without heat in his tone as he tried to clear his throat before asking, “If that’s your pitch to get me back to your side, you have to offer something better.”
Absolution quirked an eyebrow at the man as he asked him in turn, “Was it that obvious?” He had to remind himself that despite all the hedonistic tendencies and easy going attitude that the man exuded, he could be surprisingly sharp when he wanted to be.
Fixing his coat and leaning back on his seat, he replied, “Let’s state the obvious shall we? You asked for a meeting with us, the Grigori, your sons that rebelled against you. You then asked for a private meeting with me before our official meeting and you offered this to me, the Seraph who specifically fell because of a woman. Tell me it’s anything else other than a bribe,” Once he listed it out, his intentions were far more obvious than he had intended.
Raising his hands in surrender, he admitted, “Yes, if you look at it from a certain point of view, what I offer is nothing short of a bribe.”
“At Least you’re being honest this time around,” The man replied with a wry smile stretched across his face. Leaning back against his seat and getting comfortable, he gestured to him to continue as he added, “So, let’s hear what you got, old man. Maybe this time, it’ll be different eh?”
Forcing down the anger he felt from the slight, he sat up straight and squared himself up. Looking back at the fallen angel, he then opened up, “Azazel, I want this war to end. It’s been going for way too long. I’m tired, we all are. It’s time we stop this.”
Azazel frowned, his eyes narrowed as he kept quiet, refusing to speak; but he was still listening, his attention to him unwavering. Absolution's eyes soon trailed to the man's back, finding the lack of his wings all the more apparent with all the angels walking outside with their wings outstretched. It seemed that his intent was already bleeding into the system, even if he hadn’t implemented it just yet.
“You’ve seen your wings recently?” He prodded, wondering if his hunch was right, that the man’s wings had started to shed some of its stained color.
With sigh, the man extended his wings and, sure enough, one of them was as white as the purest of clouds, “Ahh, so that’s why. Getting soft, old man? I have to admit, I’m a bit touched but I liked my wing when it was a little bit darker,” the man fired back as he cradled his changed wings, the colors slowly fading away and even some revealing the feathers underneath.
He smiled softly as he nodded. He wanted not only this war to end but for his fallen return under his fold. This wasn’t just a war between two factions but between brothers and sisters and this wound had festered for so long. Looking up at the man with pleading eyes, he then asked him, “I know my words might ring hollow but please, more than enough blood and tears have been shed. Do we really need more to end this?”
This war had gone on almost as long as he had been worshiped down below, maybe even before the start of his war against Devil kind, but it was so far behind it was getting hazy. Still, the momentum of the war could change and it would not be in the favor of the Fallen. He knew that Azazel was quite aware of it, how the fallen would not gain more followers with his loosened hold on his host. It was not out of naivete that he was letting them be but out of love, love and the trust that all children should have when making their own decisions.
This war would not last through this decade, or maybe even this year, if things went as he intended. He could end it right now, but he did not want it to end in bloodshed, he did not want siblings to keep on fighting when they could be together once more.
Even his more pragmatic side told him that having the fallen would be far more beneficial than having them wiped off the earth. Even if he had to imprison the irredeemable monsters and keep them on a tight leash, the sheer number of experienced angels he could add to his force far outweighed the benefits of winning the war through force. Hell, Kokabiel could be an asset despite his bias telling him he should be removed from the equation through violence.
“I’m going to give the Grigori a way out. Anyone willing to repent can return. I can forgive the causes of the fall, but I can’t forgive what those under your banner did afterwards. If they want to return, I need to hear that they know their faults. I need to know that they’re willing to change,” He then offered. Yes, he was going to take them back in, but he wasn’t blind to the fact that the Grigori made and sheltered some monsters.
He still understood why, however, it was simply due to sheer pragmatism. If one was against a force like heaven, one had to be quite ruthless to even survive, and survive they did. If he was to offer them a way out, a way to finally end this backed against the wall mentality, he could ease them back into becoming true and proper angels and have one less bastion for the wicked to hide under. So long as they’re willing to change and, despite his own interest, he needed to forgive.
Leaning closer and locking eyes with his wayward son, he then said, “And I need you to accept this Azazel. I know I can’t turn back the clock as such, I can’t undo what has been done, but we can work on what’s before us.” As it stood, only a few of the fallen would truly listen to him, those that were far too tired or had just recently fallen. If Azazel was to accept, however, more of the fallen would as well.
The man flinched away, indecision creeping in his eyes as he clenched them tight before he opened them up and all he saw was sorrow, “As tempted as I am old man, I can’t,” The man replied sadly as he clenched his fist tight until it became white.
“Just like you said, so much blood and tears have been shed. Countless people, both angels and alike, died all because of the crime that we fell in love,” he growled out as images of a world drowned under the weight of a flood unlike any other came to mind. The dying pleading, clinging onto the side of an ark, praying to him only to be silenced forever more as the cold embrace of the water took them. He remembered and there was nothing he could say to ease the pain in the man's eyes, “Even after all these years, it still hurts.”
“Far too much blood has been spilled and to let it all go with us crawling back to you on our knees?” He spat out, chuckling bitterly as he shook his head. “I just can’t… I can’t accept it in good faith,” He whispered as Absolution stood there, looking at the broken man before him. As much as he smiled, as much time had passed, there were still bits and pieces that had yet to be glued back into place.
“We’ve done this before, old man,” He then said tiredly, his voice cracking a bit before he poured himself a whole glass worth of the green liquid, downing it without a second thought. He leaned back, remembering the times that his incarnations tried. They tried to make it work but it failed, it always failed, “You make your offer, yet all that is just that, meaningless words without action. What guarantee do we have that you will not just turn on us once we’re back under your fold? What assurance do we have that you will not wipe us all out once you gather us all up?” He questioned him, his hackles raised as heat filled his tone.
“We’ve done this song and dance twice already, and this one’s the third time. What makes this one so different? Why should I accept your offer?” He asked him through tired eyes. What could he do? What could he offer? He was God, he could easily give something, anything, but he could just as easily take it away. For a man burnt before, Azazel was no fool. How could he fault him for not trusting him when hostilities between the fallen and Heaven had yet to cease?
“I can’t… I don’t know anything that could offer to change your mind,” He admitted, defeat coloring his tone. Even if he were to change his mind, even if he were to make the angels free, what would stop him from taking it all away? What could they do aside from falling all over again but this time, Heaven was far more prepared for them. He simply had nothing to give.
Standing up, he apologized to the man, “I’m sorry I wasted your time,” He felt ashamed of himself to think that he could fix this with such half baked proposals. In the end, he wasn’t better than those before him
“You know the way out,” The man said coldly, gesturing at the part of the tent where he appeared.
With a heavy heart, he grabbed on to Samael as he prepared to leave but he stood there rooted, his heart still warring. As much anger he had in his heart, there was still regret in it. He could leave and never look back, never talk to the man again out of respect, but there were still words he had yet to say, that God had yet to say to his child. If this was going to be one of the last times he’d see Azazel, best to make it last.
“Before I go, I’d just like to tell you something, something I should have told you all those years ago,” He spoke up as he turned to the man who looked back at him dispassionately. He tried to speak up but he found himself unable. He wanted to speak yet he couldn’t, but he would not be cowed, he would not be bowed. Steeling himself, forcing the pride that was in his heart down, he then said, “I-I was wrong Azazel. I was so fucking wrong.”
The man's eyes widened in surprise as he sat there, mouth slightly agape at the words he spoke. It hurts to admit it, his heart aching but he fought it every step of the way as he powered on, letting the regrets of long past spill forth to one of his once most beloved, “I should have listened to you, I shouldn’t have punished you so severely when you brought me your firstborn child. I should have supported you, but instead, in my arrogance, I lashed out.”
These hands he now had were not clean, they were merely hidden away, his eyes refusing to see what was always there, “I was blinded by my own hubris, it was my mistake yet I punished you instead of myself,” He admitted and he knew peace. As much as his body refused to speak, once those words were uttered, he felt a weight upon his shoulder lighten. He was no longer bound with regret, one more specter of the past moving on.
Wiping away a tear from his face, he turned around and reached out to heaven once more. He had been gone long enough, it was time for him to return to his throne and shepherd the living as was his duty forever more. He stopped, however, as Azazel called out.
“... Hey old man, why do you really want us back? You know you have the upper hand. Most of the upper cadre’s dead already and you can easily just crush us with all the angels you can make,” the man asked, making him turn back. There was still pain in those eyes but they had been tampered with curiosity and just a smidgen of hope, “Just satisfy my curiosity for once ok?” The man asked as he averted his gaze while scratching the back of his head.
“Honestly?” He replied, his mind coming back to all the faults that both of them made, “I just wanted to fix an old wrong. Everyone should have the chance to turn their lives around and I have to remind myself that I can make mistakes too. I needed to face the consequence of my actions,” He then said. Azazel wasn’t the mistake, he was simply the result of his predecessor's bungled policy. Could he really hate the man who only fell in love?
“I fucked up, we both did, and I kinda want both of us to correct those mistakes together,” He continued with a self depreciating smile on his face. While he didn’t fuck up himself, per say, he was still here and he could atleast do his best to fix it.
“I should have realized all those days ago that I could have done better. I really shouldn’t have forgotten underneath all that you became, you’re still that curious little angel who wanted to make toys with me,” He said, his mind showing him long buried memories, precious scenes of a boy climbing up his lap as he made the first weapons to bind a monster so that mankind would no longer fear them.
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The man’s face immediately lit up as panic overcame his sorrow, “O-oy! I told you not to bring that up ever! That’s so fucking unfair!” He shouted, making him laugh in turn. Times like this made him remember that his angels were his children. He wondered if this was what it truly felt like to be a parent. To be so angry yet still love them with all their heart.
Looking out of the tent, his gaze landed upon these Fallen who, despite their failings, were still angels at heart. Even as they packed things, they helped each other as siblings ought to do. There was ribbing and heckling, but they were just being their truest selves.
“I also don’t want to make more angels just for the purpose of war. If I’m going to make more of you, I’m gonna give them a purpose worth living for, something to keep them going even when I go away,” He told him, making a silent vow to never force an angel into being with sapience for the sole purpose of being a tool, “I want to make angels that bring not only joy to this world but also themselves,” He whispered longingly, hoping that he would not betray those ideals he had right now. He wished he could remain just, even if hope seemed lost.
Shaking his head, he let power course around him as he prepared to get back to heaven, “Well, I’ve already overstayed my welcome, so goodbye,” He smiled brightly at Azazel as he bid him farewell. At least their meeting went off on a good note this time around.
Azazel took a deep breath before he hesitantly replied, “About what you said… I’ll think about it. I can’t promise anything old man, you know how we are. We’re just a band of fallen angels trying to live the lives that we want. As much as I style myself as their leader, I’m just the big brother that picked up the slack and was responsible for my siblings. Somebody has to keep feeding and clothing them,” He gazed back at him, returning the smile he had with his own, he then added, “I’ll see what I can do.”
He nodded as his form slowly faded away into motes of dust, his body returning to heaven once more, “Just so long as you try, it’s ok.”
Just as he faded away, he heard Azazel call out to him, “Hey Dad… I’m glad you're ok.”
“You too son. You too,” He whispered back as he found himself once more in the throne. He wiped away the tears spilling out of his eyes, trying his best to stem the tide of a thousand years of sorrow being lifted to no avail. He simply had to let it out until nothing was left.
-x-x-x-
Azazel stared at the spot where his father left, his heart aching despite his attempts to drown it out with alcohol. He found himself transfixed, unable to have anything else in his mind aside from his talk with his old man. As he poured himself another glass, he paused as he gazed at the bottle. With a shrug, he pressed his lips against the tip of the bottle and tilted his head back, letting the burning liquid fill his throat.
He sighed out, finding the burn no longer that satisfying after all this time as he reminisced on the times gone by, “You know, I kinda miss the time when both of us just hated each other. Why did the world become so complicated?” He mused out loud as he reached out and tapped a seal linked to his closest friend.
It didn’t take long before a silver haired beauty entered the room. His silvers eyes bored yet mirth danced behind them as he asked, “So, I take it that he came here? It smells far too much of incense and wine here not to be.”
He nodded, unable to hide anything from him, and it wasn’t not like he wanted to hide it either. Scratching the back of his head, he replied, “Hey man, I think pop’s a changed man… maybe… just maybe we can actually end this. I need you to call Baraquiel, I think we can work something out with heaven to end this once and for all.”
The man smiled happily as he bowed and disappeared with nary a word or whisper, leaving Azazel alone in his thoughts on how to best proceed from here on out. His father came here in person, with a weapon that could kill him at arm's reach yet he lowered his defense and made him vulnerable. He could have truly ended him but… was there really another way now that he had changed?
-x-x-x-
It didn’t take long for the day that he was to meet the Fallen officially to come, and in came the demands from them if he wanted to talk. He stood there, staring at the list while he cupped his chin. There in his hand was a one way ticket to a location hidden from his sight, and all that they demanded from him was to come there with only one person to guard him. The Fallen claimed that four Fallen Angels would meet him, a simple yet deceptively harsh response. This didn’t feel like one that came from Azazel, it felt like it came from someone who did not want this to happen.
It was sensible to come with more guards, to break this demand as he was one with the upper hand, but unfortunately for this person he was lacking in sense. With a grin across his face, he pulled himself up from his throne and walked to the angel that he would bring along for the trip down below.
The eight present seraph knelt before him, their expressions turning into panic as they realized what he was about to do, “Father, please reconsider. Without Michael, we can’t condone such hasty actions!” Ever so dutiful Sariel said as she bowed down, hoping to sway him, “Giving into the demands of the Grigori is unsightly. We can’t risk having them turn against you!” She reasoned. We can’t lose you now, came unsaid as she pleaded for him to stay.
“Please, take at least another one of us along. Metatron can easily hide in your shadow,” Raguel advised, siding with his sibling. The two were the closest after all, one was the judge while the other was the one dedicated to bringing those who wronged to justice. Even the others agreed with them, even if they remained silent.
Walking up to the woman, he gave her a pat on the head as he replied, “Come on guys, I’ll be fine. So long as I have Uriel by my side I know I won’t get hurt. Besides, having more than the allotted bodyguards would show that, not only are we afraid, but also that we don’t trust their word,” Uriel squeaked in surprise but he managed to remain composed as he stood up.
Even as Sariel was red faced in embarrassment, she was still quite unsure, “Also, have a little more faith in Azazel. Yes, he’s made some mistakes, but he’s a changed man,” He reassured them, hoping that they at least had some faith in his judgment. It was quite a hopeful judgment, but he felt no malice from Azazel when they met and talked. He knew he could trust him, he just had to believe in him.
Finally, they relented as Raphael spoke for them, the wise looking and ancient angel speaking out, “As you wish father. Just know that Remiel and Sariel are on standby and will come to your aid with a cadre of angels with but a command,” Both angels stood at attention, banging their fist against their armored chest to show they were ready.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he replied, nodding and smiling as he was reminded so much of puppies. They were such cute and eager children. He wished he could pamper them more, but his duties called.
With Uriel at his side, a pathway to the underworld was opened up. The dimension was big enough that all the major religions could easily carve a territory to call their own. Even the devils could only hold so much. As for where they were? The foggy and gloomy winter forest and the ever so oppressive and depressing atmosphere surrounding them told him exactly where they were; they were in Helheim, or at least the outskirts of it else Hel might have already met them at this point. They were simply passing by and this was technically international territory, or the equivalent of it.
As he walked forward, guided by his senses, he found himself in a clearing where a large circular table was set for them. Keeping to their word, he could only feel four fallen angels before him, but something felt off. It felt like there were less angels before him, which was weird, but he simply chalked it off as one of the obfuscating spells affecting his senses; especially now that he wasn’t on the throne. That as well as the very nature of Helheim and its nasty habit of keeping those within it forever lost in its constantly snowing forest.
Azazel stood there, giving a cocky grin at a quietly fuming Kokabiel, but Absolution did not miss the glare leveled at the angel as well. He quickly recognized the silver haired Shemhazai who’s gaze landed on him, his stance cautious but intrigued, while the rough looking Baraquile tensed at his presence. All had their wings hidden even as they wore their finest armor, the blackened and dented plate of their former station up in heaven… all except Kokabiel, who flared his wings for all to see, black as the night sky above.
Here before him were the highest ranked among the Fallen, the few who dared say that they did not want to live beneath an oppressive and tyrannical father. Uriel leveled a glare at Azazel but kept quiet as he stood dutifully behind him, his hands at the pommel of his sword, ready to strike at a moment's notice.
Turning his attention to him, Azazel curled his lips as he said, “Huh, you really did come through even with the unreasonable demands. Kinda thought you’d bring another one with Michael and Gabriel being busy at Kuoh town.”
Absolution couldn’t help but groan out at that piece of news, “... Is Michel negotiating with the Devils? Please tell me he’s not working right now,” He asked. He could have checked on them from his throne, but he felt no alarm or distress from his children so he let them be and gave them some privacy. From what Gabriel was reporting, there was nothing he needed to be worried about anyways.
“Oh he’s not doing official heaven business there, but he kinda decided to take a job as the Academy’s PE Teacher,” He told him, surprising Absolution about the Archangels choice. The workaholic found a job, who would have thunk, “Something about taking in a certain Longinus Wielder as an apprentice and whipping them up to shape,” He added, making Absolution snort out in amusement.
Wasn’t that quite the monumental undertaking he’d saddled himself with. As much as he wanted to scold the man, this was his decision and it’s not the worst thing he could do. Having eyes there wouldn’t be half bad as well, considering how two heiresses lived there. The fact that the Archangel could hold a job in devil territory bode well for his future plans with them.
“Of course he’s going to find a way to work even out on vacation,” He muttered. Well, it could have gone worse but as much as he liked to chat, they still had things to do today.
“It is simply his nature after all, to be responsible unlike a certain someone,” Uriel hissed out through gritted teeth as he glared at Azazel who rolled his eyes at that.
“Hey, I’m plenty responsible, you know,” The man countered as he shook his head. Gesturing to the seat that remained clear of snow, he then said, “So, how about we get to business?”
“Of course,” He replied as they all took their seats yet he couldn’t help but have his eyes wandered to the severe looking Kokabiel. His features were oddly… still, far too collected to an unnatural extent despite the emotions he tried to show.
The meeting started out nice enough as they gave their pleasantries, with Uriel showing restraint as he held back from making any more veiled insults. As he made his proposal, the reception was quite well received with no back talk, aside from some clarifying questions. He almost thought it was going to go on without a hitch until he heard Kokabiel suddenly drop face down, his body shaking with some spasms.
Concern filled him as he stood up to reach out for the man until Kokabiel reared up, bent backward far enough that he heard bones break before letting out an ear piercing, soul-shaking screech. He reared back in surprise and only just at the nick of time as the man lashed out with a knife dripping with a viscous liquid that had the hair on the back standing up. As adrenaline filled his veins, he could only watch in horror as the liquid coating the knife ate through the solid stone table like nothing was there, and it was aimed right at him.
He felt horror as he tried to get away, his senses telling him to dodge as Uriel, along with the rest of the angels, pulled out their weapons; horror painted across their faces as Kokabiel launched himself with unnatural speed. He felt sickened as he watched muscles bursting from the sheer force only to reform while black veins filled his form. He struggled to move but he couldn't go fast enough, panic overwhelming his senses as he tried desperately in vain to fend his attacker off.
He thought he was going to get hit until a cloud of mottled monochrome feathers filled his sight, another loud screech filling the air. His mouth hung agape as he watched Azazel, with his wings outstretched for all to see, lop off the arm holding the blade. Kokabiel was launched back as Uriel’s blade bit down on his chest, forcing him back and giving them some space. A javelin of light found itself embedded upon the Fallen’s chest as Shemhazai and Baraqiel stood there with Azazel and Uriel, forming a barrier between him and Kokabiel.
“What the fuck Kokabiel! Have you gone nuts?!” Azazel roared out as the creature before them struggled against the weapon pinning them in place, their chest burning and bubbling at the contact. It was then that Absolution realized that this thing wasn’t a Fallen Angel.
“He’s not Kokabiel!” He shouted, alerting them of the creature's true nature as his eyes struggled to pierce the ever shifting veil in front of him.
Shemhazai frowned as he sent out a ball of light that washed over the creature’s form, and it was then that the veil was lifted. There before him was not an Angel, nor anything remotely divine, but a demonic creature; a foul chimeric being whose caprine features were mixed in with draconic wings and a snake for a tail, “Demon!” Uriel roared as he threw himself at the creature, the three fallen quickly coming to his aid.
Despite the demonic beast's prodigal regenerative abilities it was no match to four divine beings, ganging up on it as they unloaded their fury on its mortal form. All that was left afterwards was a slowly crumbling form that broke down, the twisted soul holding it together finally giving out. As it faded, he saw the form of a snake inside its chest until it too faded away. He frowned as he realized that Kokabiel’s actions were not just his own.
“That fucking rat! When I find him, I’ll skin him alive!” Azazel fumed in rage, his anger overwhelming him as he kicked the tainted snow where the beast had laid just before it died. Baraqiel and Uriel made sure that no trace remained as they bathed the area in light while Shemhazia prodded the blade left behind with a light construct which started to burn and bubble upon contact.
“Something’s not right… How can Kokabiel have access to such a beast? It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. This weapon would have definitely left a mark if it were to strike you my Lord,” The fallen replied respectfully as he pulled out some tongs and grabbed the hilt of the knife, “And such an illusion, quite well crafted to almost fool everyone,” He noted as he frowned.
It even fooled himself for quite some time. He smelt foul play, or at least someone trying to fuck things up. While Azazel had a lot to gain from his death, the following retribution would be far too great even for him. It was one thing to fight a Heaven who wanted to bring him back to heel and another who wanted him dead for such an afront.
“We’ll find out soon enough once I squeezed it out of his followers,” Azazel fumed through gritted teeth before his attention was called upon by a flash of light and a blonde fallen stumbling and holding a broken arm.
“Azazel-sama! Azazel-sama!” The blonde, Mittelt his mind reminded him, called out as she fell to her knees. Red blooming over a gaping wound to her side.
Immediately, Absolution got to her side and steadied her. The girl flinched in his holds, eyes fearful until relief overcame her as he started to fix her up. He could already see the burns from the holy weapon. Even light could be turned against a Fallen Angel if the attacker using such an element was strong enough.
“Mitilet? What the hell happened to you?” Azazle asked in concern as he rushed to her side as well.
“The camps are on fire! Kokabiel’s men sold us out,” young looking girl told them as she tried her best to steady herself. “Our camp was attacked, but most of us escaped, but not all of us,” She added, tears brimming in her eyes as she tried to hold them back. Absolution pulled her for a hug, comforting her as she cried out.
Azazel stood there, hands clenched and shaking as he took deep calming breaths. Turning to Absolution, he admitted, “Hey old man, our answer to your offer was already decided on before this meeting. The reason why you only have one bodyguard was Kokabiel throwing a tantrum,” He could see the regret in his eyes as knelt before him, “I thought nothing of it because I thought he wasn’t dumb enough to pull something, but he proved me wrong alright.”
“I’ll make it short, we the Grigori formally surrender and accept what terms you have laid before us. All that we ask now is to have Kokabiel’s punishment be by our hands,” Azazel asked him as he made his pledge as the two other Fallen knelt before him. Their wings as well no longer as black as the night, a patchwork of white feathers filling their wings.
Anger filled his veins, his own emotions overwhelming the embers left inside for Kokabiel’s initial act of rebellion. This was simply unacceptable, and now his life was forfeit, “I accept,” He replied as the last of their feathers returned to their pristine condition. Kokabiel was a dead man walking and he vowed he would have him on a pike by the end of it all.