Crouching over a stadium seat is a hell of a lot less comfortable than you would think.

We had been in position for twenty minutes now just waiting inside this cavernous structure. The house lights were turned on, for improved visibility. I thought it strange how different a concert stadium looked without anyone in it. Rows of naked seating radiated out from the stage. Above the ground seats was another shelf of seats on the balcony.

The place still smelt of the pressed bodies and sweat. The floor was sticky with gum and fluids I did not want to think too hard about.

Wood and metal seats would provide us with precious little cover from an angry angel. Most of the soldiers crouched behind portable metal barriers. They were suited to protecting against small arms fire but we had no idea what, if any, protection they would offer now.

We were spread out on both the balcony and the lower seating. All the Seers predicted the angel would appear somewhere near the stage so we had prepared for that. We were really screwed if it appeared behind us.

My agitation was becoming unbearable. My heart thudded in my chest and sweat rolled down my face. This armor was not designed to breathe, that was clear.

While I fretted with my discomfort, I realized I felt like I was being watched. The sudden sensation crept up my back and neck. I looked around, trying to figure out where it was coming from.

On my left, way up in the nosebleed seats, I found him. There was someone sitting there, plain as day. How the hell did we miss him? He was wearing a long dark coat and appeared relaxed. Not the stance I would think someone would take when surrounded by soldiers with heavy weapons. When I noticed he wasn’t moving, I sighed. It must be a mannequin or prop or something.

He turned his head and stared straight at me.

I opened my mouth to tell everyone that we weren’t alone.

A sudden bloom of pain in my head distracted me and brought me back to more immediate concerns. It was too intense to ignore. Things around me took on an unreal cast, blurring for a moment and then becoming ultra-focused and detailed. The air around me hushed and time slowed to a standstill. Motes of dust that danced in the air slowed to a crawl or seemed to not move at all.

I’d felt it before, or something very much like it. Only once, ever. The day they first turned on us.

Rays of light erupted from the sky, a glowing sun appearing over the seats of the stadium. I should have felt awe, or fear, I suppose. But I did not. I felt a burning roar through my being; my skin seemed too small for my body. There was an odd rush of emotions that staggered me; anger, fear, lust, and rage all fought for control of my mind. Blood throbbed through my body.

Glancing up, I saw the seated figure was missing.

The ball of light faded revealing a winged man in impossibly articulated, golden armor. Wisps of smoke trailed from his ten-foot tall body and wingtips. His golden armor shone in the stadium lights. A Y-shape was open in the front of his helm, yet still obscured most of his face. Regardless, I could see the cold disdain in his glowing silver eyes. Strange energy danced around his body, slithering around him like luminous living things. He hung there in the air, while the world stopped around him. I saw him, frozen in the eternity between the beats of my heart. I felt him with an awareness a hundred times stronger than the one I felt towards my fellow Changed. Even with my eyes closed, I knew where he was as much as I knew where my hand was. And as he glanced around, I knew he could feel me too.

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I wanted to fuck him. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to tear out his heart and feel his blood rain down on my skin.

Where the hell was that coming from? I hated these guys, but this was a whole new level.

Lorenzo’s voice came over the mike, but it was drawn out and distorted, as though someone had slowed him down, “Oooooppppppeeeennnn ffffffiiiiiirrrrreeeee.”

Weapons belched fire and metal in streaming arcs towards the angel. I watched the tracers as they flew towards the target. Everything was so slow; I could count the bullets and the shells as they raced towards the angel.

Fire and lightning erupted where the weapons struck him. The glowing characters brightened as the attacks landed. He did not move, nor try to avoid us; he was too preoccupied looking around the stadium. Was he confused at the absence of his targets? Did it disturb him at all to find things not as he expected?

“Claaaaaaymoooooooooores!” Lorenzo yelled, the word flowing like syrup down my ear.

I put a round dead center in the angel’s face. The shell exploded an inch before striking him, and a ball of burning material erupted around his upper body. Flames licked across his shield like roses pressed against glass.

Claymores exploded around him, showering him with deadly ball bearings and more fire. The patterns of the balls sparking against him was a lovely if frustrating sight. Obscured now by smoke, I could still feel him, still center shell after shell on his location.

And then he tired of us, of the insects trying to harm him. Leaping into the air, a single beat of his massive wings carried him corkscrewing out of the smoke cloud and straight onto the balcony. The soldiers could not follow his movements, they were so fast, but three streams of shells continued to explode around him. Landing on the balcony, he swept one of his great wings around him, through the seats and the support of the balcony itself. Someone screamed in my mike. That section of seating was sheared nearly in half. Blood sprayed up and around the angel, a scarlet fountain of aching beauty. Even the blood-splattered uselessly against his field, drops rolling off the energy without dirtying the majesty of the angel.

Dust and debris clouded the air. People were screaming, confused shouts and orders back and forth on the comlink. Soldiers were spraying the section he landed in with bullets, but most were going wide. No longer in our Killzone, he was a much harder target now.

Roaring in frustration, I ripped the empty clip out of my weapon and tossed it aside before slamming another into the gun so hard I felt metal give. I did not care, as long as it fired. I was pulling the trigger faster than the mechanism could respond.

It moved and I saw a soldier go flying into the air in a lazy arc before he crumpled across a set of chairs thirty feet away. More people were now tracking him. In all the excitement, I lost track of Claire and Kemi. I just knew they were moving around me, little blurred lights in my mind compared to the angel’s sun.

Now, I could see that the angel’s field appeared damaged. It still sparked and lit up the more it was struck, but there were cracks forming. The writhing characters were looking corrupt and less well-formed. Were we winning?

Then some jackass panicked and threw a grenade at him.

Unfortunately, he was nearing me at this point. I was too intent on the glowing ball of death heading my way to notice until the little black object flew behind him.

Oh, that’s a grenade, my brain said casually.

Then the world went white.