Chapter 1

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Wings as white as the high morning clouds basking in pure, unfiltered light were roughly stained with wet, glittering gold.

The pristine feathers from the three pairs of wings were twitching in a ruffled mess. A few feathers were falling off, and slowly, a color of crimson shade was seeping from the tips and spreading upwards to the roots. The red was slowly encasing it, replacing the image of purity. The bleeding and changing wings belonged to an angel. The angel had his wings disorderly sprawled on the grounds of heaven, with his beaten body trying to crawl away. The angel had porcelain skin that matched his once white wings, while a permanent rosy blush rested on both the apples of his cheeks. His hair was like the hue of the sun but was a disheveled mess on his head. The angel had his eyes shut tight before slowly opening to reveal his glassy golden irises. Despite being reduced to such a state, his beauty remained unblemished. He breathed heavily, then coughed while painfully clutching his chest as golden blood dripped out of his mouth. He closed his eyes again, trying to catch his breath from the nasty coughing.

When his coughing fit ceased he sighed then looked down to where his other hand was pitifully pressing over a deep bleeding wound around his stomach area. It was gushing out too much golden blood, the level of pain exploding from the wound was excruciating as it had been pierced by a holy sword. A sword that could wound or hurt angels of their kind. He could still feel it. The feeling of the sharp blade being impaled onto him without mercy as he had tried to make his stand and plea. He remembered clearly the blue eyes that stared down at him, the blue eyes that belonged to the one who wielded the sword that had been raised at him.

The bleeding angel shut his eyes trying not to shed tears and pathetically breakdown right then and there.

"Lucifer."

The bleeding angel named Lucifer weakly looked up to meet the eyes of the one who spoke his name.

It was another angel. The angel who owned those blue eyes. The angel who owned and held the holy sword. He stood high with slightly ruffled wings flapping behind him as he descended to the ground Lucifer crawled on. The angel was clothed and armed with light armor and weaponry. He wore a mighty golden chest plate, then a shield and a sword in his hands. The sword, the same sword still coated in Lucifer's blood.

Lucifer first eyed that sword before he met again those blue eyes. There was heavy rage in those eyes. They were trained on Lucifer, shaky with regret but coated with disappointment.

"Stop fighting, and maybe you will be spared mercy." The armored angel spoke as he pointed the sharp tip of his sword at Lucifer's neck.

Lucifer flinched away from it.

The blue-eyed angel then carefully used the edge of his blade to place it against Lucifer's chin. The beaten angel flinched once again from the contact of the cold yet hot steel on his skin. He tried to move away but the sharp tip of the holy sword forced him to look up into the eyes of the other angel.

Lucifer glared. His golden eyes flashed an angry, deep scarlet, with the sclera changing from white to yellow before quickly turning back again in a blink.

The other angel's blue eyes caught the shift on Lucifer, and his frown deepened.

Lucifer saw the other's gaze closely trained on him; there was an expectant look in those blue eyes. The angel was waiting for him to apologize or beg that he stop and show him mercy. But Lucifer was not going to do that. He growled and looked away in defiance. The pointed edge of the sword placed a small cut on his jaw from the sudden movement, but he ignored the sting from the newly added wound. A dark chuckle trembled in his chest, and he spat out some of the golden blood that bothered his throat. The blood fell on the foot of the angel.

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