The sky burned gold and red.
Angels fell like comets, and every impact carved another crater into the face of the world.
Arhaan moved through the fire as if born of it. His chains lashed outward, cutting through divine armor. Each motion carried the weight of both fury and mercy—never a strike wasted, never a life taken without cause.
Kael fought beside him. His light no longer blinding, but clear and fierce; the light of conviction, not obedience.
He parried a Seraph's blade, golden sparks scattering into the air.
"Left flank!" Arhaan shouted.
Kael moved without thought. The old rhythm returned—the unity they'd once known as brothers-in-arms before faith had broken them apart.
The Seraph Host swarmed, their wings forming a blazing storm overhead.
"By Heaven's decree!" they cried. "The heretic must be unmade!"
Arhaan raised his hand. The Oathbreaker pulsed once.
"Then let Heaven see its own reflection," he murmured.
Crimson light burst from the ground. The plains ignited with a lattice of ancient runes. Chains of pure energy erupted upward, striking the descending Seraphs and binding their weapons mid-air.
Kael's eyes widened. "You can control the battlefield itself?"
"Not control," Arhaan said. "Balance."
He thrust the Oathbreaker into the ground. The shockwave flung hundreds of angels backward, scattering them like leaves in a gale.
Kael seized the moment. He soared into the air, crossing his blades before him.
"Lightfall Vow!"
A sphere of radiant energy detonated, carving a corridor through the Host.
Arhaan leapt through it, chains spiraling behind him like burning serpents. Together they cut straight through the army's core.
---
At the far end of the plains, a massive figure descended—the First Seraph General, Eliath the Unyielding, his wings made of molten light.
"You would raise your hands against Heaven itself?" he thundered.
Kael lifted his sword. "Heaven raised its hand first."
Eliath roared and brought down his flaming halberd. The earth cracked, molten rivers bursting forth.
Arhaan met the blow with crossed chains, the impact splitting the sky.
"Azrakar!" he shouted inwardly. "Lend me the truth you swore to protect!"
The Oathbreaker flared, its runes blazing crimson-white. For a heartbeat, every angel faltered—their divine song disrupted by a memory not their own: cities burning, wings torn, the first lie spoken by the Arbiter.
Eliath hesitated. His perfect faith wavered.
In that instant, Kael struck. His blade pierced the Seraph's chest.
Light exploded outward.
When it cleared, the plains were silent save for the crackle of fire and the whisper of falling feathers.
Arhaan stood over Eliath's fallen form.
The Seraph's eyes dimmed, but a faint smile crossed his lips.
"Perhaps… we were wrong."
Arhaan bowed his head. "May your light find peace, old warrior."
---
Above the clouds, the High Arbiter watched.
Around him, the other Seraph Generals trembled—not with fear of the enemy, but of the truth they'd glimpsed through Arhaan's power.
"Blasphemy spreads," the Arbiter hissed.
He turned toward the depths of the Celestial Armory, where something vast and ancient slept.
"Then I will burn the world clean," he said. "Even if Heaven falls with it."