The Seraphic System

The Seraphic System

Chapter: 44

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(The Presence)

-{Azazel}-

Azazel's glass filled with wine slipped from his hand, shattering on the floor. He no longer paid any attention to the stripper in front of him. His face was a mask of absolute shock, eyes wide and unfocused.

He quickly regained his composure, his eyes sharpening and his face receding into a passive expression.

It had been less than twenty seconds, twenty long seconds of a presence he had both longed for and dreaded with every fibre of his being. His mind instantly raced as soon as the presence suddenly cut out.

He was gone in a flash, leaving only a few black feathers and a confused stripper who looked around in confusion. A magical circle appeared by his mouth as he ordered the other Fallen Cadre's to gather in the Fallen HQ. The only person he couldn't connect to was Kokabiel.

Azazel's mind went through possible scenarios. Such as Michael finally being able to get the heavenly system operating, which would completely change the tides of the status quo.

The angels suddenly go from the potential weakest to a much bigger threat. The Cold War was still on after all and Azazel hadn't spoken to his brother in a long time.

Michael was a General, not a leader. He had shown that by being too passive. If the heavenly system was fully back online, would it give him the confidence to act without restraint?

Or perhaps a holy relic had been discovered? No. The presence had been far too overwhelming for that. The True Longinus crossed his mind, did they get their hands on the Indra boy toy? That kid named Cao Cao he had been hearing rumours about? But even that sacred spear couldn't emit such an overpowering aura.

Especially since Azazel could trace the source all the way to Rome. If he was feeling it from this distance, it meant he was only experiencing a weakened pulse of its true power.

'T-that presence.' He thought, shivering.

Maybe the Church had finally gotten its hands on the True Longinus and found a way to boost its power. It would make sense with how all Three Factions basically devoured any sacred gear wielder they could find.

That was plausible but even then, perhaps he didn't want to think about the potential possibility.

That his Father had returned.

Only he could have made Azazel's fallen instincts go so wild.

A burst of complicated emotion flowed throughout him.

On one hand, the thought made him endlessly happy. While he had betrayed his Father's teaching. He had never wanted his Father to die. He doubted any Fallen truly had wanted that either.

Many but the most powerful Angels had forgotten why the great war between Fallen and Angel had truly started. Why the Angels had followed Lucifer to rebel, which had included Azazel.

A decision he had come to regret many times.

He supposed it could be attributed to one thing.

Jealousy. The Small war that had initially been waged to gain their Father's attention away from humans and to destroy Humans themselves.

That had unfortunately quickly spiralled into a massive war when one of the Fallen had accidentally killed an Angel in one of the many small skirmishes they had been having.

Then Lucifer decided to go and create her own twisted race for whatever reason with Lilith. For reasons, Azazel would never know. Her mind has simply devolved from there.

Becoming more and more desperate and frantic to the point it led to death.

It was sad in Azazel's eyes.

Lucifer had been the sweetest of the Angels and had been obsessed with following their Father.

On the other hand, God being back from a tactical standpoint was absolutely devastating. Even now the Three Factions warred over the weapons he had left behind for humans. Having the creator himself reborn was terrifying.

Despite what many thought, God had never joined the war efforts himself. Had he done that, the Fallen and Devils probably wouldn't exist unless they came to some agreement.

Considering the fact that the Fallen had become a lot worse in his absence and the Devil had started devouring souls after he had shown no presence on Earth. Azazel doubted he would remain as passive as before.

Even if the Devils were trying to become better it was too little too late. Most Devils still believed God was alive and that he simply didn't have the gall to come down to the underworld.

That along with the fact that Sirzech and Ajuka probably have gotten used to being able to pressure the other Factions with their immense power. It wouldn't help that the newer generations of pure blood Devils and reincarnated Devils have witnessed this, which would lead to pressure for war.

So they will be pressured to use the same tactics even knowing God is back. All of this could lead to another War. Something Azazel desperately didn't want. Beyond the fact that this war would be short.

Azazel's thoughts were abruptly cut short as he touched down at the main Grigori HQ.

As expected, the place was in chaos. All of the Fallen Angels ignoring the newer generations that came after God's Death and a few of the more unruly ones were in an uproar, their voices rising in heated discussions.

But he had no time for their squabbles. Ignoring the chaos, he made his way straight to the main meeting room.

Inside, the familiar faces of the Fallen cadres greeted him—all present except Kokabiel, who was notably absent. The room buzzed with tense conversation.

Baraqiel was a tall and imposing figure with a strong, muscular build. He has long, spiky black hair that reaches his back and sharp, intense eyes. Was currently wearing a pained expression.

Next to him sat Armaros. He had shoulder-length silver hair, neatly kept and calm calculating eyes that reflected his intelligence. His features were more slender than Baraqiel's bulky frame.

Even his normally calm and composed expression was set in worry.

Across from him was Penemue who looked inconsolable. She had a slender, feminine build and had long, flowing purple hair that fell past her shoulders and striking violet eyes.

Her features were soft yet ruined by the expression of despair and sadness. She had been an angel who had fallen after God's death due to anger and sadness. Yet, she kept using his teachings even as a Fallen Angel.

Never letting herself give in to depravity and was largely known as the kindest of the Fallen Angels. Which was why she held a lot of sway within Gregory even if she didn't care for it.

Many Fallen would kill any man who dared to even make her dissatisfied. Azazel imagined if they heard news of her crying they would flock to make sure she was okay. As evil as some of his brethren where none could deny Penemue.

Shemhazai sat next to her, trying his best to calm her down even as he looked bewildered. Gadreel was next to her on her other side too, attempting to soothe her. Both of the Fallen seemed unable to reason with the normally calm Fallen Angel.

Remiel was the last cadre present, who was simply staring blankly outside the window.

Azazel sighed.

This was going to be a long conversation. He didn't even want to know how Kokabiel had reacted to this.

-{Azrael}-

An ethereally beautiful woman who may have been equal or even slightly more beautiful than Gabriel who was Heaven's most beautiful Angel looked up at the sky with tears flowing freely down her eyes.

Azrael had abyssal black hair that cascaded like liquid midnight down her back, It was as though the shadows themselves had woven her hair. Her eyes, however, were what truly captured attention, a piercing red that once held warmth and pure kindness.

Her aristocratic facial features were sharp and defined, with High cheekbones and a perfectly sculpted nose, she looked as if she had been crafted by the gods themselves. Her lips, full and elegantly shaped were curved up as she stared dazedly at the night sky.

The country's time zone she was in was currently midnight.

The slight awed smile and pure look of bliss on her face from sensing her father's presence was the first sign of emotion she had shown in centuries. She had been close to giving up and ending it all to follow her Father's death. Which was ironic considering her heavenly authority was Death.

When Azrael had led the group of powerful Angels out of Heaven and had separated from her kin it had been with the goal in mind to resurrect their Father.

A feat that had never been achieved but she had refused to accept it. So, she had taken her loyal followers whose trust she had gained by leading them through the war and left.

In that time, she had travelled to many places through many eras. Visiting legends of different Pantheons save for the Hindu Pantheon who had driven her out of India.

Unfortunately, the many legends she followed of resurrection were mostly exclusively for lower beings such as Humans. Reviving a God such as her Father was infinitely harder.

It had only ever been attempted a handful of times, and those had simply been misunderstood cases where people thought a god had died, only for the deity to return on their own.

Or even a higher being using an insane amount of power to revive them. Which Azrael could neither contact nor replicate with her level of power, unfortunately.

Reviving a god was, understandably, a near-impossible task.

Which was to be expected, but when she had spent so long looking for a way. The hope had slowly dimmed. The realisation slowly sank in. The Angels under her control still held firm but they had broken down many times.

There had been one final attempt to revive their Father, the Holy Grail. Azrael believed that only an artefact created by Him could wield the power to bring Him back.

She was hopeful that with the Holy Grail back in one piece. She would be able to revive her Father even if the Holy Grail was drained of all its power. Which she doubted.

Honestly, one thing she would never understand was why her Father would give a Sacred Gear of that power to Humans. Had Heaven kept a hold of it they would have been able to bring him back instantly.

Then she supposed she was in no place to tell her Father what actions he should take.

With her goal in mind. She and the legion of Angels she commanded scoured the world in secret. Searching for any rumours.

But in the end, she came up empty. Not that she had stopped trying, but progress wasn't being made.

During that search, Azrael watched from the shadows as Michael did his best. She had wanted to help. Seeing his struggles and learning how many of her kin had taken their own lives only reminded her of her failures.

It had all been her fault.

She should have stayed by her Father's side when He was weak. She was, after all, his strongest Angel, once feared across the other two Factions for her power.

It was ironic, in a bitter way. Azrael held the Heavenly authority of death, and now she had desperately tried to grant life.

He would still be alive if not for her. But everything has changed now. She wiped away the tears from her cheeks. The presence had vanished, leaving her with a void in her stomach once more.

He had somehow come back, the thought made her feel an infectious happiness and her supernatural senses could hear the Angels she had led celebrating with joy.

"Father, you're back. I've missed you so much." She mumbled. Her voice choking up slightly.

The presence had come from Rome. She tensed her body and prepared to fly there in a show of power that would probably leave shockwaves in her wake.

She wanted to give her Father a big hug and apologise for being so worthless. Even if she was killed for the sins she had committed to try to revive him she would die happily. Though she knew he wouldn't do that.

His kindness had been why the Devils and Fallen continued to procreate their filthy spawn.

She paused.

First, she did not doubt that Michael had set up hundreds of battle formations around Rome. While she could get through them, it would take time to get through unless she overloaded them and fixing them afterwards would take even longer.

Despite this, she approved. Father needed to be protected. No doubt he would be disoriented and need a few thousand years of rest to make sure he was well-rested. In her mind anyway.

Secondly, she felt nervous facing her Father. She didn't feel worthy. Azrael had done things that made her shiver in disgust. One of those things was abandoning her kind.

Safe to say she didn't want to receive his disappointed stare.

Perhaps she would stay in the shadows for a bit longer. Just a few days to make sure the Devils and Fallen don't act rashly. She and her Angels had never stopped training for battle after all.

Reminding them of her presence if they stepped out of line would be her pleasure.

She idly wondered if the Great War would start again. Perhaps she could convince her precious Father that this world only needed one God and to eliminate the other pretenders.

Her memory briefly flashed, memorising the large golden gate opening up in the underworld with Azrael leading a legion of armoured Angels to attack the traitors. The passion she felt as she fought for her God.

Along with the borderline hatred that threatened to turn her into a Fallen, her loathing for the disgusting Devils festered. The foul attempts to replicate older, more evil beings were something Azrael could never forgive her sister for.

It had confused and hurt her deeply, for she and Lucifer had been extremely close growing up together. Azrael could never understand why her sister believed that replicating those foul beings would reach their Father's heart.

That had been the core of the entire rebellion, after all. Yet, the world remained tainted by their cheap imitations, continuing to spread sin. Azrael shook her head, taking a deep breath as she forced the centuries-old thoughts from her mind.

Azrael would do anything for her Father.

A cold, subtle smile curved her lips as her beautiful eyes remained vacant.

Now that he had returned, she wouldn't repeat the mistake of staying passive and allowing him to be harmed.

Even if it meant burning the world of sinners for the greater good.

-{Kai}-

I watched the fairly handsome man get nailed to the cross in disbelief.

His hands were bleeding copious amounts of blood. Yet, his eyes were powerful, they didn't shine with despair like the criminals nailed to the cross next to him. His eyes were the colour of warm amber and seemed to hold both the wisdom of eternity and compassion. That was to say they radiated kindness.

His skin had the sun-kissed glow of a man who had spent years in the open air, the soft olive tone giving him an almost ethereal quality under the light. While his hair which fell to his shoulders was dark and rich, His beard was well-kept but natural, accentuating his strong jawline and the quiet strength of his features. His nose was straight and noble, perfectly balanced in proportion.

He possessed surprisingly aristocratic features. I guess that made sense if he was who I thought he was.

He was dressed in simple robes of white and sand-coloured linen.

"Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." The man called out, looking up at the sky.

Everyone around seemed oblivious to the intensity of his gaze, but as I glanced upward, my eyes widened in shock.

Tens of thousands of winged beings stared down from above, their piercing stares fixed below. Their expressions were fierce, as though they were going to descend at any moment, ready to save him.

Was I seriously witnessing the crucifixion of Jesus Christ? Also, how close were these humans to facing death? To be wiped off the face of the earth? The Angels looked really pissed off. It kind of reminded me of Avael but to a lesser degree.

The army of Heaven was undeniably intimidating. There was something about the way their celestial golden armour glistened in the light, giving off an aura of danger and power. They all stood on solidified clouds, clenching their weapons tightly.

Why was I seeing all of this? Hadn't I been fighting Ares? I'm assuming this had something to do with the shard. Had I died? I better have not. This didn't look like the void anyway. It could be another form of afterlife… but I don't think Ares had landed any blow that would kill me. So I'm not dead.

What even was going on? I knew it had something to do with the shard and of course, my mind was piecing together potential scenarios.

The True Longius contained the will of God apparently. Had interacting with it caused me to receive some of his memories from the past?

Before I can think about anything more, the scene shifted. Opening my eyes revealed a desolate battleground. In the midst of the dark, barren wasteland, strange golden gates opened up and shone a divine light that didn't match at all with the wasteland.

The sky above, an eerie, unnatural purple, marked this as the Underworld. Somehow, I knew these gates belonged to Heaven. A weird pang of unnatural nostalgia was sent through me as I gazed at them.

Angels poured out, their armour shining and meeting the army of darkness below. With bat wings and dressed in dark armour, the flood of Devils led by their commanders painted a sight that would leave anyone screaming.

I felt a strange overwhelming sadness as I watched it play out.

Bombardments of light were taking out groups of Devils and demonic magic was being shot back in retaliation, vile and twisted that made the Angels scream in pain only to have their lives ended by a nearby Devil before they can be healed.

My eyes took in their faces.

A massive barrage of twisted demonic-looking flames was suddenly shot my way. I flinched and tried to erect a dome of light, only for my light magic to fail me. I saw the attack approach closer and closer. Why wasn't my powers responding?!

Before my panic could even rise further, the attack was already near my face. But I didn't feel the heat or pain that I had expected.

As I opened my eyes, I watched the attack phase through me and land into a crowd of Angels.

In a flail attempt, I reached out my hand towards the angels. But they were already burning. I saw one of them, a very young angel try to run away.

He wasn't fast enough.

The two armies met and I was in the centre of it all.

My face was contorted by pain and grim helplessness as I watched the slaughter unfold.

Shard fixed

Shard Acquired.

[Divine Shard] {Progress: 0%}

[The Shard of ?]

What?

My wings popped out on their own, distracting me from the strange pop-up and making me look back in confusion. I tried retracting them but for the first time since becoming an angel, they didn't obey.

Pain spread through my body and I grit my teeth.

[Evolution Process Starting]

Evolution? I was evolving? What did that even mean? I was an Angel, there was no 'Evolving' from there. My brief confusion made me pause, only for the pain to make me double over.

Something big was happening and I was stuck here like a fool as Ares was probably in the process of foot-slamming my head against the pavement. Had I been beaten so hard that I was evolving?

I didn't know if I would be happy or embarrassed if that was the case, but I knew this had something to do with the shard. My wings burst into golden particles and my stomach dropped.

My wings had become important to me, I was guessing it was an Angel thing. Seeing them just disappear and not being able to sense them felt wrong.

My golden halo shifted in response, and I briefly wondered if this transformation meant I would no longer be an Angel. The thought left me feeling conflicted.

But the moment passed as a strange, bluish aura burst from within me. Large white wings, glowing with the same light, unfolded behind me. Above, a new halo formed, shimmering with unstable energy.

I raised my arm and found it wreathed in the strange celestial light.

Suddenly everything vanished and I could finally see my surroundings. There was some weird barrier around me which was holding off an uncountable amount of Angels who were banging on the powerful barrier.

I looked down and saw my form was completely covered in golden light.

Seriously what the fuck.

[Evolution Complete]

[Race: ? (Evolved Angel)]

New Racial Skill Acquired

[Angelic Form] (Passive)

When activated, the user shifts into their Angelic form, granting increased resistance to both magic and physical damage.

I gawked as other notifications appeared.

-{? POV}-

Slumbering deep under the underworld a being's long pointed ears twitched, the only display of movement it had performed in centuries. The next sign of movement was its pointed demonic-looking tail that twitched.

Had anyone known of this being's existence, they would have panicked at the sign of movement. For it meant the beast was awakening. A sign that wasn't good for anything or anyone.

An eyelid opened, tainting the surroundings with its putrid gaze. Sulfuric burning slitted eyes that could make the bravest of men cower in fear. A second eyelid opened and both eyes narrowed.

It was faint down in the depths of the underworld. Barely noticeable through the dimensional gap. But the ancient beings' senses were able to snuff it through the copious amounts of demonic energy that shifted through the air.

A wicked snarl overtook its features and endless hatred shone through its eyes. A hatred that threatened to consume everything. A hatred that had no end.

"Impossible." It growled, its voice making the two demonic beasts flinch.

"M-my lord, you've a-awoken-" one spoke. Only to be cut off as its head suddenly found itself rolling on the floor.

The other more humanoid demonic creature simply bowed.

"He should be dead." The massive demonic creature roared. A pressure descending and forcing the remaining much smaller and weaker creature to collapse.

The roar sent tremors through the vast plains of the underworld. The black sturdy twisted castle that sat at the core of the underworld unknown to the residents that reside above easily withstood the force that would flatten mountains.

Wings covered in inky corrupted shadows stood behind him as he rose. His massive form was easily able to dwarf buildings.

Black flames surrounded him. His throne/royal chamber lit up with the cursed flames that made the poor little demonic beast sweat profusely and struggle to breathe.

"Servant." Its voice growled.

The demonic beast that cowered below hesitantly looked up.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Go awakens the other six Lords. Tell them that He is back." The massive beast ordered, its tail swinging around erratically.

"He? My Lord." He questioned meekly.

The large beast scowled. Making the much smaller and less threatening one cower.

"The Lord of Light has returned, now go before I devour your puny little soul." It roared again and the smaller demonic beast scrambled away.

It seemed like the war wasn't over.

-END- 

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