“So, you’re new to this. Poor thing,” Violet mocked.
Zeke fixated on Nananiel throughout the ordeal. He wondered if it made sense to even think of it as a male. He recalled Naomi mentioning his name back when he was treating her. Nananiel writhed and squirmed as the smoldering straps bound him and scorched his skin. The straps had to have been enhanced with Hellfire.
“You get appointed as Dominion and immediately get news on the Angel-Killer crisis and the Tainted Generation showing up,” Violet said. “That’s some serious bad luck, Señor Angel.”
Unable to feel anything from the outside world, just see and hear, he moved up to the barrier, watching the scene unfold like a useless spectator indulging at the expense of others risking their lives for his entertainment. It was no different from staring into a TV screen. A chilling breeze was in his gut, and his heart began to beat sporadically.
What was Violet planning to do, exactly? Zeke mulled over the thought.
Angel-Killer. The moniker bounced around in his head.
Was Violet making a name for herself as an infamous murderer of celestial beings? This was just a tiny Argentinian girl he hung out with at his house on multiple occasions; they ate his mother’s cookies while watching cartoons together in his living room, for crying out loud! She was always rough, but a cold-blooded murderer seemed a bit much.
Then, he witnessed the darkness in the pool of purple in her eyes, emanating powerfully even from a distance. The way she held up the instruments. Her smile. Her calm. The way she looked at the writhing angel. This wasn’t the first time, for sure. The breeze in his gut was replaced with a painful knot as he realized she was going to do more than just kill Nananiel.
She was planning on torturing him for who knows how long.
“You don’t even have that much experience in the field. How cute,” Violet said. “You were in the war against the Thirteenth, though. You were a low-ranked Major Angel that caught a lucky break, and you got the final blow on the Thirteenth Damned. He was already weakened and on the brink of death. You didn’t do much but took all the credit anyway. You rose above the ranks slowly while respected by your peers, and finally, you earned your greatest promotion.”
“Get out of my head,” Nananiel hissed.
“As if you don’t do the same with humans all the time! I swear, the hypocrisy with you guys.” Violet pressed the end of the pick into the corner of Nananiel’s eye. “Deep down, you know you don’t deserve it, don’t you?”
Nananiel scoffed with blood oozing down from his eye. “Watch your tongue, witch.”
“Virgil or Irin would be a much better fit. You know it.”
The conversation was all galimatias to Zeke, but studying Nananiel’s distraught face, it was clear Violet’s words were cutting deep into his pride.
Violet is just being cruel!
Zeke shook his head, trying to get rid of the thought. This was Violet. Violet! She stood up for him, Ugo, AJ, even Isaac, and, at times, complete strangers! She did it violently most of the time, but it was for the greater good overall.
Yes. That’s it.
Violet had to have a good reason for doing what she was doing. Maybe Nananiel was, in some way… a scumbag. Zeke had to force the idea into his head and keep it there. Violet only hurt scumbags. She fought for the weak. That was her creed, her principle. She would never break it.
“The higher-ups are giving you a hard time solving the crises. Overwhelming, isn’t it? I’d feel really bad for you… if you were deserving of pity, anyway.”
“How long do you think these playthings can hold me, you witch?”
“Break out then! I’m waiting for it! You can even set a timer for yourself if you want,” she said. “I’ll wait. I’m not in a hurry or anything.” She looked down at her wound and then coughed out some blood. “Hey, that should’ve closed by now.”
Violet looked back at the angel and pushed the pick further into the canthus, ignoring Nananiel’s screams.
No, no, no. This is wrong.
Zeke fisted the barrier and shouted, “Violet!”
Violet halted and turned slowly to him.
The pain shot from his fist and spread through his whole body. He staggered back and shook his fist. Did he really just doubt Violet’s actions? He barely has any context in the situation, and he has the gall to doubt Violet? The thought made him feel sick all over. “Sorry,” he muttered to himself.
The chair exploded with a wintry burst, knocking the barbaric instruments from Violet’s clutches and sending her flying back. Nananiel dashed forward, extended his arm, and cupped his hand around Violet’s face, stopping her momentum. He slammed her into the decking. Her head blasted through the wood.
Nananiel’s wings were unsheathed. Frosty white and with no damages. His body was glowing white like a frozen supernova, forcing Zeke to squint and shield the white rays with his hand.
Nananiel pulled Violet up by her hood and ascended slowly.
Did he just get Violet killed? Zeke wanted to do something, anything, but he was inside the barrier—no, even if he wasn’t. Even if he was out there, Zeke knew he would be useless anyway.
“Acetolune Memoradum!” Violet cited.
A giant sigil appeared above them, identical to the one the lobotomy chair popped out of.
The brain-like symbol produced an angel clad in armor with massive spiky wings. Equipped with a round shield in one hand and a short sword in the other. It shot toward Nananiel and bashed its shield into his face. Violet fell from his grip as he crashed into the decking, and she landed on her stomach.
The angel descended to the deck and got into a fighting stance. It crossed its legs, held its shield to its chest, and pointed the sword downwards to its side.
The angel was pink and see-through like a spirit, an astral projection. Zeke studied it and noted that it had a woman's face. Round and beautiful. Long, scraggly hair flowed down its back as two stands descended in the front.
Nananiel pulled himself up. His glow dissipated. He was just some hunched-over guy, riddled with bloody holes all over his body and face. His tattered clothes were stained with green and red. It was a miserable sight.
Nananiel peered at the ghostly image. “Irin?”
Violet pulled down her hood and sat up. Streaks of blood drizzled from her nostrils and lip. She stared at the apparition with pride. This was yet another crazy spell of hers. “She’s only as strong as the memory you have of her. Oh wait… you saw her fight during the war,” Violet pointed and laughed, “sucks for you!”
The projection rocketed toward Nananiel and sent him flying up with a fast slash. Its wings' tips protruded, stabbing Nananiel in his torso, and took him to the sky. They became engulfed in an intense, crimson-red flame and spiraled higher into the atmosphere. The ball of fire increased and produced multiple, smaller versions of it.
It was like watching a meteor shower in reverse.
Zeke could still hear Nananiel’s agonizing screams screeching from so high up. Then the balls discharged a giant blast that set the sky aflame for just a second and then dissipated completely. It reminded him of Naomi’s crash landing. They left no traces behind. Not even embers, nor cinders, or ashes. Nothing but the clouded sky.
Violet finally looked directly at Zeke and undid the barrier with a quick hand sign. Zeke stumbled forward. He could feel the breeze again. He stared at Violet with fear.
“That’s a Power’s special banishing move,” she explained sluggishly. “He won’t be back immediately…” she swayed and then fell on her back.
“Violet!” Zeke ran to her and kneeled.
“I’m fine,” she said as she panted. “Just need a moment to regain a bit of Mana.”
Zeke scanned her and fixated on the wound in her gut. It was closing on its own. Healing rapidly. His eyes averted to her face, her bruises disappearing, her nose shifting back into place, and her violet-hued eyes lasering back at him. When he realized, he yipped and looked away.
Violet chuckled. “So awkward.”
Zeke slowly turned back to Violet. “H-h-how?” He uttered.
Violet fingered her cloak and explained, “My Healer’s Garb. It augments all capabilities. Think of, like, buffs in an RPG. Offensive and defensive capabilities increase. My regenerative factor also speeds up exponentially.” She stopped to let out a wet cough, blood sprinkled on her fist. “Supplements to lower my soul’s purity to increase my Black Magic, counter that angel, and augment my defense even more.”
Who the hell was this person? Zeke scanned the battlefield. Red and green splattered across the broken deck, sprinkled with white feathers. Then, he saw Ugo. Blood leaking from his head.
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“Ugo…” Zeke muttered.
Violet sat up abruptly and looked in Ugo’s direction. She stood up and plodded towards him, hunched over. “Watch your step,” Zeke’s object of affection said. The cloak closed around her as she hopped over a gap.
Zeke rose and followed her lead, carefully stepping over the missing deck boards. They made it to Ugo.
Violet grabbed the sleeve of the shirt tied around her waist and cleaned off the blood on her face.
“He… threw him to the wall, and Ugo bounced off it on his head,” Zeke mumbled.
“Hah!” Violet cried.
Zeke struck Violet with a flinty stare. She kneeled to Ugo and held out her hand. It glowed a reddish-pink color. She rested her hand over his head for a moment.
Ugo woke up with a loud gasp.
Zeke jumped back and screamed in terror.
Ugo screamed back, “What happened? Did I die?”
“No. It was just an injury. Your brain was swelling, but it’s not much of a problem. The cause of the cerebral edema was purely physical, no magic.” Violet stood up and sneered. “What a moron that angel is.”
Ugo sprouted to his feet and ogled at Violet, with a streak of blood lined down his face.
Violet stepped back and smiled at him. “Hi, Ugo,” she said.
Ugo grinned and jittered with joy. He slowly approached Violet with open arms as he sang, “Ai, ai, ai, mi bomboncita, mamacita, preciosa, linda, muy bonita, mi vida, Princesita Viola, vem aqui y dame un beso–”
Violet smacked Ugo hard across the face. His head turned swiftly to the side as he staggered back.
“Vee! Didn’t he just recover from a brain injury?” Zeke yelled.
“You’re from Europe. Stop speaking like a Mexican, you asshole,” Violet snapped at Ugo.
Ugo put his hand over his reddening cheek and caressed it. “She hits just as hard…” he trailed off and gave Violet a cheerful look. “You haven’t lost the spark,” he said.
“I missed you, pervertido,” Violet said while still smiling. “I still can’t tell if you’re a disgusting sadist or masochist.”
“I’m a healthy mixture of both,” Ugo proudly replied.
Zeke gave him a look and said, “There is no possible healthy combination between those two things.”
“Zeke, what did I tell you about kink shaming?” Ugo said.
“Wow, you haven’t changed at all,” Violet said.
Ugo squinted at Violet. “Aren’t you supposed to be in Argentina?” he asked.
“I am in Argentina.”
“You’re right here in front of me, Violet.”
“And in Argentina,” she placed her hand on Ugo’s cheek. He shivered and let out a happy yip.
“How about a hug?” Ugo requested.
“No,” Violet responded and withdrew her hand.
Ugo scanned the chaos all around them, and his jaw dropped. “Caramba.” He gulped and stared back at Violet. “Did you do all this?” He analyzed her cloak. “You’re a wizard?”
“Supernatural Neuroscientist,” she said.
“How did you find us?” Zeke asked.
“Answer my question first.” Violet gave each of them a look. “The angel wasn’t trying to kill you two. Nananiel wanted someone from you. Who is this person you found? ”
Zeke and Ugo exchanged looks. Zeke went over to his doctor’s bag and picked it up. “We will take you to her,” he said.
----------------------------------------
Zeke and Ugo gave Violet a clumsy summary of the aftermath of Naomi’s crash landing as they led her across the innards of the building, scrambled up the steel staircase, and into the office room. The old hospital, the demonic infection, their botched, improvised last operation. Violet remained eerily quiet throughout it all, like a professor listening to their student adamantly deny the criticized mistakes of their dissertation.
The bucket of aged sky-blue paint sat on the table with the lid placed to the side, spreading a foul stench into the air. The group all winced at once. A slight breeze prompted Zeke to look over at the window. It was still open. The room was exactly how they left it. They didn’t bother cleaning up anything after bolting their way home in a panic.
What about the door?
Zeke rushed back to the rotting wooden door and closed it. There was no chunky paint marking it. Zeke turned to Ugo and noticed him staring at the door, confused.
“What’s wrong?” Violet asked.
“Well, everything in this room is exactly how we left it except…”
“The sigil you used to transport to the… hospital. From what you two told me, it’s a Transport Sigil. After a certain period, they disappear on their own.”
Zeke remembered his grandmother informing him about Transport Sigils. They were used to travel instantaneously anywhere, from Realm to Realm or anywhere in a Realm. They are part of the Gray Magic classification, meaning people with low or no affinity for Mana can use it. Gray Magic was neutral magic. It isn’t necessarily evil or good.
Ugo walked over to the bucket and, without a care for his health, dipped his finger in the lumpy paint. He darted across the room, paint dripping from his finger, and urgently drew the sigil from Zeke’s grandmother’s book on the door. He opened the door, and the hospital was revealed.
Ugo held the door open for Violet as she wandered into the waiting room, and then he followed. Zeke grabbed the door before it closed. He let out a sigh and then walked in.
Zeke closed the door behind him and embraced the halcyon environment once again. A calmness washed over him. Leaden, anxious thoughts parted as the chamomile scent blessed his nostrils, and warmth rising from the ignited sconces touched the skin on his hands and face.
With a wooden expression, Violet walked to the center of the dirty room, crossed her arms, scanned the symbols on the wall hangings, the bizarre tapestry of a three-faced sun over a golden wood altar, the timber carved sofa set and trestle table, and the curved counter near the doorless arched frame. She gripped the neck of her cloak and said softly, “Return.” The cloak vanished, and she was back in her casual summer attire.
Ugo approached her and asked excitedly, “So, is that cloak thing like a monster or something? An apparel spell you made?”
Violet responded, “It’s called a Healer’s Garb. It’s a spirit. Every one of the Tainted Generation has one. All you need to do is learn the name which is inscribed in our souls. It’s connected to you, you say its name, and it appears to protect you; there really is no rule for anything else you want it to do. You can associate its commands with any word you say. What matters is what you think about when you say it.” Violet sniped a look at Zeke. “So, where’s this angel?”
“Right,” Zeke said. He thought she would take a little more time to be amazed by where she was and realized she wasn’t impressed, like seeing the same magic trick for the twentieth time. He walked towards the doorless arch. “Follow me.”
The sconces in the decrepit white stone hallway ignited as they walked past the doorway, lighting their path.
Suddenly, a door at the near end on the right opened. The door to Naomi’s room. They halted and watched AJ storm out and slam the door. She stomped a couple of feet forward and froze when she spotted them.
“AJ? What are you doing here?” Ugo started. “Why were you in Naomi’s room?”
AJ disregarded Ugo’s questions and fixed on Violet. “Vee?”
“Hi, AJ,” Violet said with a smile.
AJ rushed to Violet, hunched down awkwardly, and pulled her into a hug. She squeezed her and gushed, “You’re back from Buenos Aires!”
“No, I am still there.”
AJ pulled back a bit and gripped onto Violet’s shoulders. She raised a brow. “Huh?”
“She keeps saying that. We don’t get it, so we’re just going with it,” Ugo said.
“You got even taller,” Violet chuckled.
AJ scrunched her face and replied, “Don’t remind me…”
“You’re a statuesque beauty, AJ. Nothing wrong about that,” Violet said.
AJ blushed and cowered back.
“And what did I say about talking down on yourself? Don’t tell me you’ve stopped working on your confidence since I’ve been gone.”
Ugo chimed in like a tattling toddler. “Oh, she hasn’t been working on it. Not at all.”
Violet gave AJ a stern look, like a disappointed parent.
AJ lowered her head and stammered in her response.
“AJ, what are you doing here?” Zeke interrupted. “Have you been here the entire time that school was going on?”
AJ failed to respond.
“You’ve been bombarding Naomi with questions, haven’t you?” Ugo said and then sighed. “My poor, poor angel.”
“Can I have a look at this angel now?”
“She’s right behind that door.” Zeke moved to the patient room door with the others on his tail and opened it.
He walked in and found Naomi sitting in bed with the sheets covering her from the waist down. Her hair and clothes were a mess.
“Zeke!” she yelled when she saw him. Her face radiated an innocent glow.
Zeke put down the doctor’s bag, hurried to her, and started examining. “You okay? No headaches? Stomach aches? Chest pains? Nothing?”
“Oh, nothing like that. I am fine.”
Ugo ran towards Naomi and shouted, “What about psychological pain?” He walked back to the center of the room and pointed at AJ standing at the doorway alongside Violet while eyeing Naomi. “What did she do to you? You can tell us! Whatever it is, we’ll banish her for it!”
“What?” AJ yelled.
“I’m joking,” Ugo affirmed.
“No, you’re not,” Zeke said.
“No, I’m not.”
“Oh, please, I do not want to be a cause for the spurring of internal conflict!” Naomi said while waving her hands. “You all work so well together! She did nothing wrong…”
“Yeah,” AJ said and took a step forward. “There were questions she should know the answer to, anyway. She couldn’t answer something as simple as how old she is.”
“I told you I don’t know,” Naomi whined.
“How can you not even know your own age? Ridiculous, I don’t believe you!”
“Stop harassing her!” Ugo barked at AJ. Suddenly, he froze with widened eyes. “Wait a minute, I just realized something.” He smacked his forehead. “This could be one of those fantasy or science fiction situations where she could be like, technically, days-old or months-old or like, five-years-old and look fully grown. Oh, God! AJ is right. We need to know!” Ugo pointed at Naomi and shouted, “Tell us how old you are!”
“I don’t know!” Naomi cried. “I was never told.” She pouted.
Ugo lowered his hand and tilted his head back. “Damn it all!”
“Did you not find any satisfaction in any of the other questions I’ve answered?” Naomi asked AJ in a brittle voice.
“No, not at all,” AJ said. “All you answer with is ‘I don’t know.’”
“Do you want me to lie just to meet your expectations?”
“And if it isn’t ‘I don’t know,’ you just remain silent.”
“What do you want from me?” Naomi’s eyes started watering as she pulled her knees to her chest.
“I want you to show me why angels deserve all the praise and worship they receive worldwide daily. I need you to give me at least one convincing argument for crying out loud. I want you to make me understand... just what have you guys actually done throughout all this time!”
Violet scoffed and snuck a glance at AJ. “Good girl,” she muttered and walked up to Naomi silently. She crossed her arms and leaned forward, squinting at her.
“Who is this?” Naomi asked nervously. “She’s human, too. Another colleague of yours? Another Healer?”
“Yes. I am a Healer,” Violet said. “You know that means I am part of the Tainted Generation, right?”
“I’ve heard horrific stories about all of you, but after what your friends did for me. There is no way I can believe that you’re heathens destined to destroy the world.” Naomi cracked a mile-wide smile.
Violet studied Naomi for a little longer and then grabbed Zeke’s arm. “Rulitos, I need to speak with you privately. Now.”