[: 3rd POV :]
In one of Daniel's manifested domains, silent, silver, and distorted by celestial residue, two Apostles of the Seraphic Order awaited their demise.
Justicia and Barcos, stripped of their Authorities but not their arrogance, hovered above the cracked ground like fallen stars waiting to reignite.
Opposite them stood Caelira, Empress of the Elves, cloaked in emerald-gold radiance, her beauty as lethal as the aura she carried.
Beside her, her daughter Aeriwen stood poised, eyes gleaming with disdain and amusement.
Justicia sneered first.
"So we have two little bitches walking to their deaths?" Her scorn dripped like acid.
Caelira blinked slowly, almost pityingly.
"My, my… Such language. And here I thought angels were supposed to be divine."
She tilted her head. "Tell me, angel...does it hurt? Being so foul-mouthed while looking like a failed choir girl?"
