As Moxie and Insanity relentlessly attacked Michael, more angels descended from the heavens, their wings shimmering in the dying light. Some wielded gleaming swords, while others notched arrows that glowed with divine energy, their tips aimed squarely at the trio. Liza, perched high on a ledge, continued to rain down arrows of her own, picking off the angels from above, each shot precise and lethal.

Moxie, with swift precision, landed several blows on Michael's stomach, the impacts sending shockwaves through the Archangel's golden armor. But no matter how hard they struck, Michael seemed to withstand it all, his divine armor absorbing much of the damage. Meanwhile, Insanity swung his axe, attempting to cleave through the golden plates protecting Michael's chest, but the axe only left deep grooves, unable to fully penetrate.

"He's tough... even for an angel," Moxie muttered, gritting his teeth as he prepared for another attack.

Just as they thought they were gaining ground, Michael's wings spread wide, and with a sudden surge of energy, he unleashed a new ability. The ground beneath them trembled violently, and Moxie and Insanity felt a sudden, crushing weight slam down upon them.

It was as if gravity itself had increased a hundredfold. Insanity, despite his strength, was forced to the ground, his body unable to resist the overwhelming pressure. He gasped for air, his axe slipping from his grip as his muscles strained under the force. Moxie, however, resisted, his legs shaking but holding firm against the oppressive gravity.

Michael, his face twisted in rage, spoke in a voice that seemed to echo across the entire battlefield. "You think you can stand against heaven’s judgment? Tell me, Moxie, what good have you done? What people have you saved? You fight like a hero, but in the eyes of heaven, you are nothing but a sinner—a criminal deserving of punishment."

Moxie’s eyes narrowed as he clenched his fists, ignoring the pain coursing through his body. He didn’t flinch, didn’t back down. "I don’t care about your judgment, Michael. I’m not fighting for heaven’s approval. I’m fighting for my own reasons. And I’ll keep fighting, no matter what."

Michael's expression darkened, his fury palpable. "Those who anger the heavens will be struck down. You’ve taken lives, caused chaos—your very existence defies the gods. What gives you the right to challenge us?"

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As Michael's voice boomed across the battlefield, Insanity, still pinned to the ground by the crushing gravity, struggled to speak. “Why… do you angels… always act so high and mighty? You think you’re better than everyone else? Newsflash, Michael—we’re not here to follow your rules.”

Moxie glanced down at Insanity, seeing him struggling but still fighting. Even under the immense pressure, Insanity’s defiance was as strong as ever.

Liza, high above, realized the gravity was affecting her comrades far more than it was affecting her. She quickly adjusted her aim, firing arrows at the angels who were reinforcing Michael. Each arrow hit its mark, but there were too many—wave after wave kept coming. She cursed under her breath, trying to find a way to turn the tide.

As Moxie held his ground, he could feel something shifting within him. The pressure that Michael exerted wasn’t just physical—it felt like it was digging into his soul, questioning his purpose, his very existence. But instead of breaking him, it fueled his determination. He had faced death, betrayal, and gods before, and this was just another battle he had to overcome.

Suddenly, Moxie felt a surge of power course through his body. It wasn’t the same overwhelming energy he had felt before, but something more controlled—more focused. He realized that the strain Michael's gravity was putting on him had pushed him to unlock something deeper, something primal within himself. His aura flickered, and for the first time since the battle began, Michael hesitated.

“You talk about judgment, Michael,” Moxie said, his voice steady, “but you’re not the one who decides my fate. Not today.”

With a roar, Moxie pushed forward, breaking through the oppressive force of Michael’s gravity field. His movements became faster, sharper, and with every strike, Michael’s divine aura began to waver. The Archangel's eyes widened in disbelief—Moxie was overpowering his ability.

At the same time, Insanity, still struggling on the ground, saw his chance. With sheer willpower, he dragged himself to his feet, ignoring the blood dripping from his mouth. "Let’s show this angel what happens when you underestimate us," he growled.

Together, Moxie and Insanity launched a coordinated assault. Moxie’s strikes were precise, targeting the weak points in Michael's armor that he had previously identified, while Insanity used his brute force to overwhelm Michael’s defenses. The Archangel, once untouchable, was now on the backfoot, barely able to parry their attacks.

But even as they pressed the advantage, Michael’s expression twisted into one of cold resolve. "You think you can defeat me?" he snarled, raising his sword high, the blade glowing with divine light. "I am Michael, Commander of Heaven's Army. You will fall before my might."

With a powerful swing, Michael unleashed a devastating wave of energy.