After watching the footage of Thomas Pitch leaving the vault with a crooked grin, Michael was stumped and fell for the High-warlock’s trap again. He had expected the bank to be a bluff to see if the Harmonies would check it out, and he thought the Gala wouldn’t have the guts to reveal himself publicly.

Yet maybe that was exactly what Pitch hoped for—to show everyone he was alive—while gloating in the process that the Archangel hadn’t put him six feet under.

Whether this person was the true infamous warlock or a random Gala stirring up chaotic madness, Michael slammed his laptop closed in frustration and humiliation. He scowled at the idea of someone ruining his angelic appearance and destroying his reputation for getting things done righteously.

His gut told him that whoever was doing this would not be easy to deal with. Michael grumbled under his breath at the Choirs behind him, “Stay here; I have a mess to clean up.” Scraping his chair back, he pressed a red button hidden underneath his desk.

Moments later, his siblings piled into his office. Michael explained the situation quickly while he slid on his lapel-buttoned coat. Then he cracked a portal alive, leaving Daniel and John to occupy his seat until he came back.

Michael arrived near the brick alley in Las Vegas, and he marched into the dark passage with his Choirs behind him. There were letters of magic inscribed on the left wall. Even as the vice president of the Heaven and Hell Bank, he had no shortcut entrance; only the owners did to keep their unbiased statement clear. A Prince of Hell ran for vice president also but was in the same boat as Michael, not allowed to proof randomly in the H&H.

Not wasting any critical time waiting for an individual Choir to enter H&H one at a time, he devised to demolish the outer brick wall and the inner one in the bank. Raising his hands and his eyes with a flicker of annoyance, he was ready to raze the walls down.

As the second-highest-ranking Gala, nothing could surpass his magic. No magical security, barriers, or protection could stop his extraordinary strength. However, before he could continue wrecking a barrier between the human world and the supernatural, a boy jumped from the rooftops and landed in front of him.

The person stumbled forward ungracefully, and he bowed to Michael, his electric blue eyes shining out with youthfulness and immaturity. “Hi, I’m Nathan. I’m here to serve you!”

Michael stared at the young man, perturbed by where he had randomly come from. “Please get out of my way; this is an emergency,” he replied with little patience.

Instead of stepping aside, the bold teenager with smooth skin and high cheekbones exclaimed, “I can help you!”

Irritation got in the way of being angelic. Michael’s reputation was on the line. He snarled with a hint of warning in his tone. “Get out of my way.” The glare he gave to the boy should’ve condemned him straight to Hell with his menacing gaze.

The coldness from the Archangel was so unexpected, and Nathan relied on the angelic nurture side. He gulped his surprise and whimpered, “I’m a Nephilim, just like your daughter!”

Michael halted to shove the reckless Nephilim away. He had never seen him before, and he asked grimly, with a chill ringing deeply in his voice, “How do you know about my daughter?” Only telling a few selected people about Sara, suspicion ignited in those golden, harsh eyes.

Nathan hadn’t moved an inch from his spot, despite the judgmental stares from the Choirs. The way the leader of the Celestial Realm was acting with a stiff disposition and hatred brimming in his countenance had the boy swallow nerves into his stomach. “Isn’t Kate semi-like your daughter?” He added quickly, “Everyone praises her; she’s a child to you!

Usually, Michael could detect a lie dangling in his face unless it was from his twin; however, he didn’t have a minute to spare to interrogate Nathan. Already disliking him, he ordered a Choir, “Don’t let him out of your sight.”

Glancing back starkly at the Nephilim, Nathan’s cheery expression disparate into a solemn one. Michael jerked his chin up and snapped, “Move out of my way or I will force you to.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Pressing his lips into a thin line, the teenager finally moved sideways. The Archangel loomed above him; the gaping height difference had him feeling like an ant that could be squashed by the giant.

Michael lifted his hands and slid a look at Nathan cynically. A golden glow filled the cracks between the bricks, and they crumbled loudly to the ground. The portal to the supernatural world connecting to humankind was a thin, fabricated door from each other.

Stunned Galas gawked at Choirs causing destruction; the angels brought harmony to the earth, not destruction! Worry creased on their nonplussed expressions at such an entrance.

With his chin up, Michael strode forward to the Gala, ruining everything he had worked hard for. He stopped in his tracks, witnessing a continuous battle instead of a still atmosphere. Expecting his best sidekick, Katerina, to have stopped this chaotic fight when he reached H&H, he was sorely disappointed.

To his surprise, his evil brother was on top of the person who resembled Pitch. Lucifer struggled to get up, with Michael scoffing with bafflement at the situation in front of him. He ignored the warlock’s joke, knowing that with the Devil around, he had definitely—not probably—worsened the conflict.

Turning to Kate and trying to be his anger by scratching the surface of her not following his orders, he realized sticky blood was on the gray marbled-textured flooring. Blood pooled on the edge of his daughter’s shoes, and Sara looked full of energy and calm despite a mini-war going on.

The fighting ceased, however, when Pitch’s warlocks noticed the Archangel, and they scattered into hiding. Michael wanted answers right away, yet he couldn’t ask questions until this mess was cleared up. It pained him to have Sara imprisoned in this destructive Gala in the Celestial Realm with the Devil in toll.

When Lucifer had given such a suggestion to go with her, this had flamed his fury up a notch. He was unfortunately on a time crunch, with Galas needing a responsible leader to deal with the turmoil. Having no choice but to let Lucifer go with her, he wished Sara stayed with him instead; however, Michael trusted no one else to get the job done efficiently.

Kate had stayed behind to explain what occurred.

A teenager with sparkling emerald eyes ran towards the Choirs. Michael had requested that he come to help figure out who this Gala was. He was surprised the boy came, who would be the next one to take the crown as High-warlock and replace Pitch—supposedly dead nine years ago.

Anger flared at the person fooling him. He debated whether to strike the Gala down, but he had to get proof that he was the real Thomas Pitch, a doppelganger, or a damn shapeshifter managing to do all this.

Once his daughter disappeared into the portal with Pitch in handcuffs and Lucifer following behind them, Michael directed his attention to his sidekick and said, “Tell me what happened.” While she explained everything from the start, he began to think of how to clean up after her.

He understood that he couldn’t pinpoint the small escalation in the Heaven and Hell Bank on Kate. It wasn’t her complete fault and would be unfair to her. He had replied on her experience in missions, putting his faith in her expertise, but now felt let down more than anything.

After she finished describing the chaotic evening, he went to fix the madness. Hours passed as the Archangel healed Galas, asking questions and repairing the wreckage. He put Kate to work cleaning up the rumble and had Nephilim—who wanted to assist so much earlier on—scrub the blood off the floor.

Nathan glared at him while he mobbed and rubbed the dried blood away, the marble floor looking squeaky clean. He introduced Kate to Timothy. The young warlock helped by capturing the warlocks who worked with the Gala. He teleported from time to time to catch the escaped ones.

The owners of the H&H were found by the Choirs, tied up with magic-proof ropes, and gagged in a vault, but not harmed.

When Michael elucidated the disastrous situation to the married couple, he departed. Many Galas had thanked him, and a spare of Infernals mumbled their gratitude. Even though he was on the good side, he would represent the bank in an unbiased manner.

Peaceful tranquility between the Harmonies and Infernals. The impossible.

Kate, Timothy, Nathan, and the Choirs followed the Archangel out of the spotless H&H as if a battle hadn’t broken out hours ago. The teenagers were thrilled to leave, exhausted by their hard work, but no one complained.

Back at the Celestial Realm, Michael had Daniel find rooms for Nathan and Timothy. He would interview them later. Throughout the cleanup, his mind has solely been on getting his daughter from Pitch and especially Lucifer.

Only the Conductor would know what Lucifer might be brainwashing her with. He shuddered and was about to leave the office when Kate blocked his path.