At World's End

Prologue

The Lord sat upon His throne and He watched the mortal world as He had done forever. He saw civilizations rise and fall, other gods rising to take His place. Yet He said nothing. Finally the Earth crumbled, only to rise again in the new Dark Ages of humanity. He sighed once more, but He said and did nothing.

But then a man came who shook the entire world known, so gruesome in his hatred and in his power that even the Heavens were contaminated with fear of him. And this man was called Desirus.

Desirus decided that there was no place for any other god but him, and began shaping all religions in his own ways, using them to master those whom he had enslaved, using necromancy and destruction as his tools.

One day, the Lord finally decided that it was time to do something against this man. And He called upon His Legions of Light, to go on Earth and defeat this Desirus and show the world His Glory. And as the angels tried to descend, they found they could not. For the world had forgotten them, as it had forgotten the Almighty Lord. And without belief, there would be no power, and no way to interfere with the mortal world.

He was pained by this, for He was considered all-powerful and all-knowing. And mourning for the loss of humanity, which He had created in his image, he sat upon his throne and became silent.

The Legions of the Sky were at a loss about what to do, but finally He spoke. He summoned the most powerful of His creations, the archangels, in front of Him. And He told them, "Of you, my most powerful children, one must descend upon Earth. For though humanity no longer believes in Heaven and angels, some still believe in the virtues you, my archangels, represent. Of you, which will go to Earth and deliver this man Desirus to Justice?"

All backed down in fear, safe for one. Michael, the one He loved now above all, spoke, "I will go, my Lord, and show the unfaithful Your Glory. And I will restore faith by slaying this man in Your name."

"Oh, My beloved child," He shook His head sadly, "of all, you will be the one who has to leave Me. For in order to accomplish this task you take upon yourself, you will have to give your own life. And there will be no return if you fail."

But Michael looked up at him, golden hair a halo around his face, and he sang a hymn of love and praise. And he shined in the Heavenly Light as he replied, "I will do whatever I am required to do, my Lord, for Your Glory and Triumph."

So the archangel donned his precious armour of light, which he had not worn since the Heavenly War had ended eons ago, and the mantle of glory that marked him as the highest ranking in the Heavenly Legions. And thus he descended on Earth, as the messenger of Battle and War, to see his Creator's will be done, going straight to Desirus' palace.

It was a building of incredible wealth, and the man who had styled himself as God stood in his throne hall surrounded by his advisers and necromancers and magicians. At the sight of the glorious being, Desirus demanded who he was and what he wanted. Speaking boldly, Michael told him that the hour of judgement for his deeds had come, and that he was there to deliver him, in the name of the Lord Almighty, Creator of the World and Ruler of Heavens and Earth.

The man laughed, declaring he was the only god there was. "You, who claim to have come from one who stands higher than me," he spoke cruelly, "shall know the wrath of the One True God of Earth!"

Desirus summoned his armies and his necromancers to do battle with the one calling himself 'an angel'. Many of his soldiers perished in this task, but Desirus cared little for the life of his subjects. Through trickery and evil magics, he finally managed to capture Michael, and the archangel was dragged before Desirus' throne in chains.

The man looked down at the most brave and loved of all angels, and grinned viciously. "You have witnessed my power, and now you will be an example to all my people, and to those who dare oppose me. There is no other god except me, and the world shall see this clearly, and worship me eternally. For I am the Dark Lord and I have made Earth my kingdom."

Desirus ordered Michael to be put in a cage placed on the highest tower of his castle, exposed to the forces of nature. There the angel would be kept, and word was sent throughout the world that there was no other ruler, for even this unknown 'Lord of Heavens' was powerless in front of Desirus.

In Heaven, the Lord cried bitter tears for His child and what he would have to endure.

Part 1

For countless days and nights, pain laced through the archangel's body. His naked flesh had been scorched by the ruthless sun, and at one point he had simply not been able to keep his consciousness.

Now, the dark oblivion had begun to unfold from around his mind, and things grew vivid around him. A soothing song in a voice long forgotten lifted away his pain, and a faint breeze eased his ailing wounds. He drifted between darkness and light forever, the sad melody his constant companion.

Then came the moment when he finally opened his eyes to find himself in a place more unknown to him or any of his kind than the world of Earth had never been.

He had been lying on a bed of polished dark wood draped in endless waves of midnight-hued shadows that parted as he rose, body whole again and bearing no mark of his ordeal. He found himself standing naked into a room tiled with black marble, covered by soft carpets of the same dark blue. The walls were painted in the same colour, with millions of glittering lights sewn on it and wrapping the room in an eerie light. Aside from the bed, there was no sign of other furniture. Only a large door, carved ebony figures guarding it against trespassers. They shifted as Michael approached, but made no move against him.

The archangel tried to gather some of the shadows around his body, but they seemed to have a life of their own and did not obey him. So, trembling a little from the cold, Michael stepped toward the door, careful not to disturb its guardians. Again they stirred, and the massive bolt slid out of place before his eyes. The door opened in his path, revealing a large corridor of obsidian and volcanic glass, with large archways flanked by burning torches. The place was empty and cold, but for a continuous wailing in the background.

Michael gathered his wings around him to keep the chill from seeping in his bones. Where was he, and why had he been brought there?

The torches flickered but gave no warmth of fire. Thin mist gathered at his feet, flowing ahead of him toward the end of the corridor, where another great door stood.

Something seemed to keep him from using his angelic powers, and this made him feel extremely helpless and vulnerable. The walk seemed to take ages, but he finally made it. This door was made of sculpted ivory, the mural a rendering of the Heavenly Wars. The archangel was surprised to see his own face created in detail, alongside those of his brothers. He reached out a trembling hand to touch the carvings; soundlessly, the door opened for him. What he saw filled him both with wonder and fright.

He was standing in a marble alcove facing fields of burning flames. The sounds of the damned, endless cries and pleas for mercy, were a thick web, and a sickly breath of wind bearing the stench of burning flesh chilled him to the bones. Never had he thought his Lord would allow this, that mankind would be allowed to suffer like this.

And in front of him stood one overlooking it all, a fallen angel with broad violet-black wings stretching across the alcove and encompassing everything in their darkness, and rippling curls of dark hair falling down to the floor tiles in a shroud of mourning.

Michael backed down only to find himself pressed against the now closed doors, not knowing what to believe. Was he truly trapped in this place, in the Kingdom of Darkness he ruled, the one in which he had been imprisoned after being cast away from Heavens?

The dark angel before him turned, slowly, as if taking his time to look once more upon his kingdom before his eyes fixed on Michael, two pools of dire darkness in a milky-white face whose features were painfully familiar to the archangel. The Fallen One wore blood-red robes sewn with orange flames and almost hidden under his jet-black hair, and on his brow still shone the Morning Star.

A faint smile crossed the thinned lips, just as sad as the dark eyes were in the stern face. "So you awoke, my conqueror," he spoke, his voice low enough for only Michael to hear it yet covering all the other sounds around them.

And Michael bolted. Driven by an incredible rush of panic and fear he had never in his life experienced, the archangel threw open the ivory doors blocking his path and ran away as fast as he could, back through the corridor and towards the room he had woken in, although the rational part of his mind told him there was no escape. Not from this place, and certainly not from him, unless he so desired.

Two dark beings blocked the door he was looking for: a gargoyle with foul breath and a misty banshee moving unnaturally with every breath the archangel took. And before he could turn away and run once more, Michael found himself thrown against the shut door with such strength he fell on the floor, unable to move, unable to speak.

Dark laughter filled his ears as the banshee hovered near him, her garments of shadow and haze twirling just above the obsidian tiles, and the gargoyle flapped his bat wings close by.

"Look here... the angel has awakened," the wraith spoke in a wailing voice that made Michael whimper and gather his wings as close to his body as he could manage. A growl replied, and her sadistic laughter filled the corridor. "Let us play with the Master's new toy," the shrill voice said. "I bet we'll find him most enterta-"

"That's enough!"

Michael recognized the voice that had interrupted the banshee as his; only this time it had been much stronger and commanding than before.

"Who allowed you entry to this wing?" he continued, chastising his creatures for a reason the archangel did not comprehend. "Nobody is to come here unless I order it! Leave!"

Michael listened to the two Creatures of Darkness draw away; he was still sprawled on the floor and did not dare raise his head for a glance. He knew that nothing good would come to him, in the presence of the Prince of Darkness.

Red, orange and black suddenly pooled around Michael. Something cool touched his face; a marble-like, slender hand that forced his gaze upward, to meet the dark eyes of the Fallen One. A barely-audible sigh escaped the dark angel's lips, and his other hand smothered Michael's blond curls.

"Fear not, my brother," his voice said, once more a whisper in the eternal night. "You are here under my protection, and it will remain so for as long as you stay."

Michael's voice trembled as he finally dared speak his name, a name forbidden in Heaven after the Fall. "Lucifer..."

A faint nod, and Michael was suddenly lifted by invisible hands; the doors parted under his eyes and something incredibly warm was wrapped around his naked body. The dark angel placed a hand around Michael's shoulders and silently urged him past the threshold and back into the room he had found himself in after regaining his senses. The place was none too different except for a warm light coming from a lamp stand Michael hadn't noticed before.

The archangel turned to face his captor and host, to find Lucifer weaving a strange spell which had the colours in the room change from those of a moonless sky into those of a full moon night.

"I thought you might find this place a bit less oppressive than any other in my keep," he told Michael, the same strangely sad look on his face. "You should rest; we can talk about things later. Time has no real meaning in this world."

Michael met his eyes with a furious glance. Of course Lucifer would be behind it all! Why hadn't he realized it sooner? It was only natural that if the Lord was to be overthrown His accuser would stand right behind Desirus' shoulder.

If angels could have felt hatred, Michael would have hated Lucifer. As it was, all he could do was glare at him in anger and disapproval, and remain silent. If his punishment for failing the Lord was spending eternity in Hell, he would surely not give the Prince of Darkness what he wanted. For Michael knew what he wanted - screams, accusations, and pain. Lucifer delighted in pain; it was a commonly known fact in Heaven. That was why no angel wanted to face him or his Demon Legions. That was why no angel had descended in his kingdom, ever; for here, in this desolate place, humanity's pain was excruciating, engulfing all, and Lucifer was right in the midst of it, revelling in the feeling.

So Michael met his fallen brother's words with stubborn silence. However, the archangel could not find any hatred in Lucifer's eyes, or in the faint nod addressed to him by the dark angel.

"Do as you please, my conqueror. And do not worry, I shall not allow my servants to threaten you again. If you wish to see me, you can find me in the library. Fifth door on the left." He gestured toward one of the figures guarding the door, which in turn moved to point at something down the corridor. "Rest now, Michael. You look like you need it."

And Lucifer departed, leaving the archangel all alone once more.

Part 2

When Michael awoke again, in the same twilight room, in the same Kingdom of the Damned, it was impossible for him to say how long he had slept. Even if time was not the same for angels as it was for humans, they still had a measure of its flow - in this place, there was no such thing. Still, he felt a certain relief at being there, and not on Earth again. After Lucifer had left, he had pondered on some of the dark angel's words. Father of Lies, they had once called him on Earth - but humans had not known him as Michael had. And even if Lucifer had become a perverted version of an angel, the archangel was certain of one thing: Lucifer had never lied to him. Oh, he had deceived other angels after his fall, but never had he worked against Michael. In fact, Michael's assignments had been surprisingly demon-free, and the archangel was certain that Lucifer had had something to do with it. After all, they had been very close before Lucifer had defied God and the Heavenly War had begun.

And the Lucifer he had found didn't seem at all like the one portrayed by humans. No, here was a great sadness in the Prince of Darkness that seemed to encompass his entire kingdom, a feeling of constant pain that emanated from him whenever Michael was near.

And there, in that room, the archangel experienced levels of awareness he had only experienced in Heaven, ones which had been dulled as humanity had ceased to believe in God and angels. He knew that Lucifer had come to see him while he had slept, and had not concealed his presence. Lucifer had stroked his hair while he had slept, but had not said a word.

Michael needed to speak with his dark brother and understand what was happening, and why he had been promised protection from Hell's horrors. And he experienced an odd desire to just grab Lucifer by the neck and strangle him for having allowed Desirus to become so powerful and declare himself a god.

So he went in search of the place Lucifer had called his library. The misty garment that Lucifer had conjured for him still wrapped his body, and the cold of the corridor had dimmed to a faint chill that he could easily ignore. Again, there was no soul in sight, but the angel suspected he was being watched all the same. An angel wouldn't be allowed to walk about freely in Hell. Or maybe he would be, with the knowledge of Hell's Master - but he wouldn't be protected from any of its creatures. And yet he had been promised that protection. Which probably meant that he would be forced to offer something in return, didn't it?

The library's door opened easily in his path, revealing a domed cathedral whose walls were decked with books. All the knowledge of humanity was gathered there, and by the looks of it some of the knowledge of Heaven and Hell as well. How the Fallen One had managed to preserve Heavenly Knowledge was a mystery to Michael - one of the many questions he would have to ask. He wasn't sure he would receive the answers, though.

Lucifer lay in a chair, seemingly asleep, a deceiving sight of a lifeless corpse with large black wings and decked in dark robes. Michael's heart leaped as he remembered a similar sight of his dark brother, after his defeat by the Heavenly Legions. He had lain on the Lake of Souls' surface, arms outstretched and eyes open, face devoid of any expression... and then the transformation had begun, and the waters had parted to let his body sink into the abyss. The angels had been mortified by the sight - those that had been cast down with him had struggled as they had been thrown in, but Lucifer had showed another, silent kind of defiance to the Creator.

The sight now in front of Michael was not much different, except Lucifer's eyes were closed and several spells floated around the room, shrilling as the archangel approached. A white hand waved them away lazily and the dark eyes finally opened, as Michael was graced with another smile.

"Feeling better?" Lucifer inquired with a concern that seemed almost genuine. He gathered his robes as he rose and offered the now empty chair to Michael.

It was an old courtesy between the two of them. None of them would grow tired by standing, yet back in Heaven Lucifer had always offered Michael his chair to sit in - something he didn't do for others, not even for Metatron who was supposedly the eldest and wisest of them all - while he would summon himself a floating cushion of clouds and they would giggle as this caused rainbows to cross the skies.

Now, Lucifer's presence would create rainbows no more, and Michael wouldn't laugh with him and sing a praise hymn to the Lord and Heaven's beauty ever again. Michael had not laughed since the War had torn the Nine Choirs apart. As for Lucifer... Lucifer didn't even wear the colours of angels now, but the ominous blacks, browns and reds of darkness and of the Earth, and the dark grey and midnight blue of storms and night skies.

"No use mourning for the past, little brother," the dark angel said, standing tall. "Please sit down. I bear you no ill wishes, and you have nothing to prove. Not to me."

Blue eyes darted at him as the angel answered proudly, "It suits you rather well, doesn't it? That the Lord sent me to deal with your friend Desirus. Now you have me right where you wanted me: in your domain, powerless against your servants. But I won't give you the satisfaction of hearing even one sound of pain from me, Lucifer."

Michael's defiant words caused an unexpected reaction in the dark angel. Or, rather, a lack of the expected mockery. "You don't do me justice, Michael. Had I had a hand in the humans' rebellion, He would have been forgotten long ago. But alas," he shrugged, "I had nothing to do with it. I didn't support Desirus' actions, nor did I encourage any of my legions to help him. What happened is not my fault, but rather the fulfilment of a prediction I made long ago." He looked pointedly at the archangel. "You know which one I mean."

Michael was outraged. "You expect me to believe you didn't cause this?" he asked sharply. "Lucifer, I am not stupid - I know you influenced Desirus! You gave strength to the strange magic he and his follower use, you made him eradicate every sign of the Lord's religions."

The Prince of Darkness sighed and leaned against the arm of a now empty chair. "I didn't have to do any of it, Michael. Humanity has managed to do all this on its own. Had I helped Desirus in the first place, why would I have rescued you?"

"Rescued me? You? Oh no, you didn't 'rescue' me. You got me as payment for your services." At Lucifer's shocked look, Michael grinned. "Yes, brother, that's exactly what you did. You help him become the God of Earth, and in return he delivers you the one who has defeated your rebellion against the Lord. A nice plan, I must admit - with God unable to interfere in my favour. But I can see right through your deceit, Lucifer. You forget that I know you. And if you think you'll be able to draw me on your side, you are mistaken. Because there is no way I'm going to cooperate in whatever you might have planned from this point on! My loyalties lie with the Lord and Him alone."

The dark angel nodded, letting shadowy hair hide his face from sight. "How could I know He would send you on Earth, Michael? It was a strictly volunteered action. It could have been anyone else. And why help the humans achieve their goal, when I was trying to prove precisely this?

"Do you remember what I told God so many eons ago? That humanity would rise against him if He did not interfere in its development more often? That the humans would forget all about Him and us angels, and that we would hold no power over Earth whatsoever? He did not believe me then, and cast me down from Heaven together with my followers." He now looked up, eyes shining with a strange light. "This is the proof I bring before Him now. Without any major interference from Him or from me - for believe me, brother, He knows I had no hand in this - humanity has reached exactly the point I have predicted. The fact that you, as an angel of war, had the power to come down from Heavens did not help. They simply didn't believe you. How easy was it for them to defeat you, Michael? You, who once could have killed one as powerful as Desirus by pointing a finger! You see, I was not going to interfere in this matter at all. I did have a plan, but you were not in it at all."

"You lie," Michael said, even as his mind doubted that. Lucifer did not boast in his actions, but he would defend his position at no end bringing solid arguments in his favour.

The dark angel groaned and glided past Michael, stopping in front of a crystal mirror and running a hand over it, calling for the Mists of Time to gather. "I would never lie to you, little brother. Perhaps to other angels, but never to you. Nor would I lie to Him. If you do not believe my words, then come have a look. The Mists of Time do not lie."

He retreated back into his chair, closing his eyes once again as Michael glanced into the mirror at the summoned images. He added a little spell against deceit of his own, startled when it actually worked, and allowed the Essence of Time to permeate his senses. With Lucifer nowhere near, it wasn't possible for his magic to penetrate and perhaps influence the spell.

When he finally came out of the trance he stumbled backwards, confused and contrite. Lucifer's lack of involvement in the matter was indeed genuine, except for bringing Michael into his realm rather than leaving him at Desirus' mercy. It was a startling and, above all, painful realization, with great implications on the angel's value system. Everything Lucifer had warned the Lord against had come true.

Michael crumbled on the floor and started sobbing. Everything his dear brother had been through, his defeat and punishment, had been unjust! Why had the Lord not listened to His child? Why had He seen Lucifer's words as defiance and rebellion? Why?

The soft song that had guarded his dreams came once again, a soothing presence as gentle hands wrapped around him and pulled him against a solid chest, as if to protect him from hurt and betrayal.

Finally he calmed down, but he loathed having to abandon the comforting embrace. It had been so long since he had allowed anyone to hold him like that, so long since he had taken comfort in the arms of another angel. If he tried hard enough, he could even imagine Lucifer as the Angel of Light he had once been, not the Prince of Hell.

"You should have abandoned me on Earth," he said finally. "I should have died there, as a statement of your victory."

"Hush, now. Why would I do such a thing, little brother? You know I have always made it a point to keep you out of troubles." The dark angel's voice was gentle and his cold lips placed a kiss on Michael's forehead. "I didn't know it was you He would send on Earth, or I would have been there earlier. You see, it was I whom He was supposed to ask. But I believe He couldn't bring Himself to do it, after all. I still hold power, and He would have been dependent on me. It was the perfect lesson... but He wouldn't rid himself of His pride, and admit that, for once, He has been wrong."

"You shouldn't speak that way about the Lord," Michael warned. "He might get upset, you know."

A laughter escaped Lucifer's lips. "He can't see into my kingdom. And I take great satisfaction in being able to speak of Him like that. After He cast me down from Heaven, He has lost His control over me and my followers. He was, indeed, the most powerful being... but that hardly applies to Him nowadays."

He stood and helped Michael up, then guided him back to his chair and bode the angel to sit down. This time, his offer was not refused. Then, in a gesture he had not done since before his fall, he lowered himself on the floor and rested his head in Michael's lap. The archangel felt like crying again, and tentatively reached out to play with liquid ebony strands.

"Azazel asked me to declare another war," the dark angel continued, unperturbed. "Now, when we could easily crush the Heavenly Legions and nothing could stop me from overthrowing God. I refused."

"You still love Him," Michael replied, the statement costing him another low laughter from his dark brother.

"I never stopped loving Him. But that is not the point here. And besides, I have grown to love other things much, much more. But you know, if He asks... then I could make humanity believe once more. Desirus couldn't do anything against me - because, in human mentality, I have always been the supreme evil. And this is an age of darkness and evil; my powers are nearly unlimited. If I destroy Desirus, in God's name, and reinstate His Church, then perhaps He will gain some of His power back..."

"And those who have followed you will hate you," the archangel finished his statement. "You would risk our own position as the Prince of Darkness, for Him? I don't believe you."

"My Legions," Lucifer sighed, "have lost the ability to love anyone unconditionally. They have forgotten what it feels like to be in the presence of God. Their only love is for themselves... and for me. Because I am the one who loves them all, in spite of what each has become. I think they might grow to understand this was the only way. A war with Heaven would be not only unnecessary, but cruel. And I have already proven my point."

Another long pause followed, as Michael pondered his words and looked for the implications and possible answers to their problem.

"If He eventually asks you to do this for Him, will you?" he finally enquired.

"I don't know."

"And if I ask you?"

Lucifer rose and looked down at the archangel. His eyes darkened again, unspeakably black against white face. "For you? Michael, I..."

"Don't look away." The archangel grabbed Lucifer's arm as he tried to draw back. "Would you do it for me, my brother? As a special favour, before darkness overcomes me and I become one of your servants, a demon of destruction and pain?"

The Fallen One seemed horrified by such notions. "I would rather destroy you than see you abandon your path and become a brainless spawn of Hell. Besides, I don't think that's even possible! You're an archangel! Even if you fell, you would probably be like me, not like the others!" He took hold of Michael's face and forced the angel to look him in the eyes. "Promise me you won't do something as foolish as that, little brother. Ever! You promise me, and I'll take care of this matter; for you, but in the Lord's name."

"I promise," Michael said, frightened by the potential of destruction he had glimpsed in Lucifer's gaze. The dark angel had always been somewhat fond of Michael, perhaps more than he'd been of the others. He wasn't sure if this was a love akin to that of twin mortal souls, but seeing a proof that it had survived for so long was amazing.

And he finally got what he had hoped for from Lucifer. A true smile, one that could rival the kindest his brother had ever addressed to him when they had both been in Heaven.

"Thank you, little brother. Now, I do believe you should get a little more rest. After all, you have a long journey in front of you."

"Journey? What journey?" Michael asked, not comprehending.

Lucifer giggled - he giggled! "You didn't think I'd let you stay here, did you? It would be most offending to my subjects. And you don't want to be anywhere near when I get back from crushing Desirus, trust me. Azazel might understand my reasons, but Apollyon and Samael won't and it will be chaos. I wouldn't be able to protect you properly. So I'm sending you back to Heaven."

The archangel stared at him, perplexed.

Part 3

"So let me get this right. You're planning on carrying me up the Passage of Sorrow, through the waters of the Lake of Souls and onto the Immortality Plains. And then, all I have to do is walk in through the Gates and I'm back in Heaven."

They had returned to the bedroom - Lucifer's bedroom, naturally, though according to the dark angel's confession he seldom used it - and were now lounging on the large bed, a vision of light and one of darkness. Lucifer had been reticent to accept Michael's invitation to join him for a short rest, but had finally given in. In fact, the archangel was rather proud of that small achievement; Lucifer had always been very stubborn, and wouldn't have given in to anyone. The fact remained that he had just confessed he had a soft spot for his younger brother, and Michael had found he'd had no qualms using that in his advantage. Besides, he was certain Lucifer hadn't truly rested in a long, long time.

The Prince of Darkness had then revealed his plan of getting Michael back to Heaven. It sounded... improbable. Yes, that was the right word for it. There was no way Lucifer could have gotten past the Lake of Souls' surface without alerting anyone, and Uriel still guarded the Gate.

He told his brother as much; Lucifer, who was sprawled on his side looking down at him, shrugged. "You don't think I would attempt something that sounds impossible without knowing it has even just a small chance of succeeding, do you? I've done this before, and it worked. In fact, I am very confident I could succeed in transporting my whole army that way, so a single lost archangel wouldn't be too much of problem."

He winked and yelped as Michael grabbed a long strand of hair and pulled him by it so their faces would be inches apart. "You did this before? And how come nobody knows about it?"

Lucifer grinned, showing off two pointed canines that had definitely not been there before. "Now, what kind of Devil would I be if I weren't able to deceive someone as naïve as my young brother Uriel and his underlings? I've spend several nights looking through the Gates into Heaven. I could have gotten in too, but I didn't want to scandalize certain stiff-necked archangels."

Michael groaned. "Metatron and Gabriel are not stiff-necked! You are simply being mean to them!" he complained, but only managed to make the dark angel laugh.

"Actually, they sort of annoy me. Metatron has always acted like he was some kind of leader over all the angels, and Gabriel did everything in his power to keep me away from you. Moreover, Sandalphon and Raphael always take their side. So technically I should despise them all, do something to shut Gabriel and Raphael's big mouths and make Metatron and his twin understand they're not as great as they think they are." He sighed, and ran his fingers through golden hair. "But I don't want to. They're archangels just like I you, and like I have been. Besides, I may have been cast out of Heaven but that doesn't mean the Lord won't see who's better behaved among His seven archangels."

"God won't speak of you to anyone," Michael informed him sadly. "Not knowing what He thinks of you anymore, we don't dare speak your name for fear He might react badly. Gabriel speaks against you as often as he can and calls you several names but your own, but the Lord has yet to react to those accusations. As for Metatron and Sandalphon, being the eldest of us gives them the right to act as leaders."

But he wasn't too convinced of those words anymore, so they were delivered out as simple facts and with the hope Lucifer didn't react badly.

He didn't. "I know what most think of me," he assured the archangel. "I've known for quite a while now. And Gabriel didn't hide his outrage at my actions on the few occasions we have met on Earth. Still... I don't believe God is mad at me. Just... upset by my words and actions."

He lay down on his stomach and supported his head on one arm while trailing the other's knuckles over Michael's face. "Can I tell you a secret, little brother? Metatron isn't the eldest archangel. I remember the moment he and Sandalphon were born, and telling the Lord those two were a little too proud for my tastes. I remember each and every angel's birth and their names... oh, so many names... but only seven archangels. Six powerful princes to lead the Legions of the Sky, and one almost as powerful as God Himself to control them. The First Archangel. I don't know why Metatron doesn't realize it isn't him. After all, how could he be the first born if he and Sandalphon were born at the same time? But then, I have always liked to be the one hiding in the shadows and orchestrating. Wasn't it an irony that it was I who realized how humanity was going to evolve?

"I'm tired of playing the puppet master," he confessed. "I've watched over humanity for so long. I need a rest. A long, peaceful rest in the Abyss. But can I do that? No. I have to stay here and make certain things don't get out of control! Hell is getting overcrowded with mortal souls, many of which should have Ascended - but which do not understand the notion of Heaven. And, naturally, my followers cannot explain it to them, being themselves too poisoned with hatred."

His eyes, which had seemed to be looking through Michael rather than at him, started to focus again. Lucifer blinked as he seemed to recollect himself. "I'm sorry to bother you with these problems, little brother," he apologized sincerely. "They are mine alone, and we were supposed to be resting. It's been a long time since someone was there to listen, that's all."

His voice was sad again, and now Michael knew some of the reasons for the misery he had sensed in him before. It seemed that ruling in Hell was no easy task, even for Lucifer. He believed him on the matter of being the first-born archangel; he'd always known Lucifer was different, deeper in his reasoning than even Metatron and always aware of things nobody else except the Lord seemed to know. Still, the dark angel's sadness seemed to affect him too.

So, trying to uplift their spirits, he offered, "Would you like me to sing something for you? Something less depressing, before the two of us burst into tears?"

Wide eyes stared back at him. "You would do that? Really?"

He nodded and sat up on the bed. "Can you get me a..." he started to ask as the desired object materialized in front of him "... harp? Thank you." It was made of ebony and the strings seemed to be rare rays of aurora borealis. He ran his fingers over them and found the sound appropriate; he had expected no less from his dark brother, who had always been a perfectionist.

He thought carefully before choosing the tune. He finally settled on a sweet song that praised life, and mentioned the Lord and His angels just once. He did not want to make his spectator even more upset than he seemed to be.

He poured all his energy into the song making the music swirl through the rooms and hallways of Lucifer's Palace, and for a moment Hell stopped to listen to the angel's voice, crystalline and filled with love - not just for the Lord and Heaven, but also for his fallen brothers and for the souls of men trapped in Hell. And as the Legions of Darkness were starting to get angry at of the boldness of the angel who had invaded their realm, another voice joined in. Deeper and smoother, but no less beautiful or loving - a voice that had not been heard singing since before the Great Fall. The two voices paired as the song culminated in a praise for the miracle of life, before the song faded off as subtly as it had begun.

Michael was now lying with his face against Lucifer's chest, the dark angel's arms cradling him as the harp lay forgotten on the sheets. It was a moment before the archangel dared look up at the Prince of Darkness' face, finding nothing but love there.

"Thank you, little brother," Lucifer said softly, tracing his fingers on Michael's lips. "Never before has an angel's voice enraptured me as yours did now. You brought a little light to my gloomy kingdom."

"I must be getting soft," Michael replied, smiling up at him. "The only things I've held in my hands for centuries were Weapons of Justice, and here I am using a harp. This is all your fault!"

"I will most gladly take the blame for this, Michael. Look, you made me sing! I never sing!"

"And I never smile," the archangel added, burying his face in the dark hair again. "But you lie - you do sing. You sang for me twice, when I needed soothing and peace. Will you kiss me, Lucifer? I have forgotten how your kisses feel like. How your love feels like."

He was laid gently on the bed, and the dark angel leaned over him. "I'll do whatever it takes to make you know my love for you." Soft lips traced Michael's, and he opened his mouth pliantly. A stream of unbidden love flowed through him and he couldn't help but answer in kind, feeling Lucifer's presence all around him, inside him, sheltering him from pain as it had always done. He was drowning in the flood, relaxed and letting his mind and body slip into much needed slumber little by little. Nothing had changed between them, as far as Lucifer was concerned. And Michael was getting the vague idea that, in spite of the betrayal he had felt when Lucifer had fallen, he could still feel for him more than he did for many. Most certainly more than he felt for Gabriel, and perhaps more than...

No, he refused to believe that. He couldn't love Lucifer more than he loved God! That was blasphemy!

He was grateful to his dark brother for pulling back at the feeling of Michael's sudden panic. But he did not go away just yet; instead he placed another kiss on the archangel's temple, and whispered, "You have always held a special place in my heart, little brother. That is why I..."

"Yes?" Michael whisper drowsily.

"Nothing. Go to sleep now. I have some things to take care of before we can begin our journey to Heaven."

The archangel grumbled something about Lucifer keeping him in bed most of the time, but it wasn't really a complaint; he sort of appreciated his brother's concern and knew he had to build up his strength while he could. Even now, he felt more powerful than he had been in quite some time; he suspected it was Lucifer's doing but it wasn't an evil spell because he would have sensed it. So he just let his mind drift for a while, analyzing the dark angel's revelations and their implications on the balance of things.

It appeared that Lucifer had not changed very much since his fall, and still reasoned before taking a course of action. And according to himself, he still loved God very much, unlike his followers. It was an interesting revelation, that the Prince of Hell had not forsaken his Creator.

Nor had he forgotten about Michael. They had been so close while in Heaven, the archangel recalled. Being the one to lead the Lord's Legions against Lucifer's had been very painful for him, and watching his silent and loving brother defeated and cast down...

Michael sighed and forced himself to wake up. Better not to think about the loneliness he'd felt. He shouldn't have reacted that way, and he had been careful to hide it from his archangel brothers. Gabriel had argued that Lucifer had deserved his punishment for speaking against his Maker, and that anyone who defied the Lord should share his fate.

And now it turned out Lucifer had been right.

An idea formed in the angel's mind. What if the Lord could forgive His child and welcome him back in Heaven? That could be done, couldn't it? And Lucifer would be an Angel of Light once more, and take his deserved place at the Lord's side.

Content with the idea and certain that it could be done, Michael got up and ran to the library, where he thought his dark brother would be. Unfortunately for him, the place was empty.

He frowned. He had to find Lucifer, but wandering the halls without knowing where to look for him could be dangerous. 'Perhaps a locating spell would help?' But he didn't know if he could do one in that place. 'Well, at least I can try.'

A few key words and a bit of energy, and his spell took life. It was butterfly of white and yellow light, small and fading at times - but it guided him through the hallways and towards Lucifer, the feeling of his presence getting more powerful with each moment. He could also feel others, three powerful beings that were nearby. The archangel tried to conceal himself from them the best he could, and sent a silent prayer to the Lord that they didn't discover him before he found his dark brother.

Finally he approached a great hall with black marble pillars adorned with vine wreaths supporting the high ceiling. Peering from behind one of the columns, he saw Lucifer was indeed there - but he was not alone. The three other beings he had detected were with him. In fact, it looked like he had stumbled in the middle of some sort of council.

Silently, he crept forward, so he could see who Lucifer was talking to; or, rather, listening to while sitting on an imposing throne with a jaded look on his face.

"Sire, I beg you to reconsider your decision," a being with white hair and wings made of frost was saying. It had a normal angel's body, just like the other two, only it looked like it was made of solid ice and did not emanate anything but cold. It was dressed in robes of flowing ice that swirled around it freely. "You cannot keep him here for long."

The second being, which was fire to the first's ice, agreed furiously. "Our minions are getting restless, Sire. All they need is another display like this one, and we cannot guarantee he will be safe even in your palace."

Lucifer sighed, and turned his eyes on the third being, who had kept silent thus far. This one was granite, its grey and sharp-angled body strangely different from the others', more solid and probably unmovable. "What about you, Azazel?"

"I serve and obey, Lucifer," was the short reply in a familiar voice, soft whereas his body was hard, soothing while he looked unapproachable.

Azazel. It really was Azazel's voice, although Michael hadn't recognized those of the others. But they were all familiar, their presences as well. Fallen Angels, he realized while marvelling at the changes that had occurred in their bodies, far greater than the ones in Lucifer's. He wondered which ones they could be. Lucifer had mentioned his three lieutenants before: Azazel, and two others. Samael and Apollyon.

Torches flared as the fire angel - the archangel couldn't bring himself to call him demon or devil, for he was after all still his brother - erupted. "I will not have him here! He is an angel! He is our enemy!"

Oh, so this was about him! Michael pulled back a little, praising the Lord for not letting them see he was there. Or perhaps he should praise Lucifer instead? As he had said, God had no dominion over Hell and the dark angel ruled there. There was no way he wouldn't know Michael was there, and yet he hadn't revealed him to his aides.

Indeed, Lucifer only shook his head and extinguished the flames with a thought. "That is enough. Michael won't remain here forever, but for as long as he is here he will be considered my guest and I will not have him harmed." He rose from the throne, imposing and threatening as he approached his followers. "Is that understood, Samael?" A frantic nod made him turn to the ice angel. "Apollyon?"

"Yes, Sire," he replied bowing deeply. "Whatever you command."

"And I won't have any more of your minions come into my palace uninvited," Lucifer continued in the same firm and scolding voice. "In fact, this place is off-limits for anyone but you three and whoever else I might summon until Michael is safely away. Dismissed."

The three bowed, but while Samael and Apollyon retreated Azazel remained to witness Lucifer's heavy sigh. The dark angel turned to him. "What is it you wanted to ask me in private?"

"I just want to understand," the stone angel said smoothly. "I know you and Michael were close, but shouldn't you hate him for defeating you?"

Long hair rippled as the dark angel shook his head and placed a hand on his aide's shoulder. "I cannot hate him, my friend. Just like I cannot hate God, or any other angel. Or any one of you, for that matter. Besides, Michael shouldn't be blamed for my defeat; it was my own weakness which led to it."

"As you say, Lucifer. I wish I could feel the same as you; I was rather fond of him if I remember correctly. Where will you take him?"

Lucifer's other hand moved slowly to close on the sharp edges of the fallen angel's face. Michael doubted that the touch was not at least a little painful, but the dark angel didn't even flinch.

"I cannot tell you that, Azazel. I'm sorry. But I do have a small reward for your support." He bent to touch his lips to the stone forehead, and a violet glow emanated from his hands, conveying hidden emotions only Azazel could experience. Michael, still hidden behind the column, felt the atmosphere in the great hall slowly become a bit less oppressive and more welcoming.

After the sharing was done and the fallen angel finally left, Lucifer took another deep breath and turned to Michael. "You can step out now, little brother," he assured the archangel even as he went in his direction.

"I apologize for listening to your conversation without your permission. I needed to find you and tell you something but..."

"It's alright," Lucifer smiled. "As you could see, my followers are not entirely comfortable with your presence. I should take you to Heaven as soon as possible, and then start preparing a place in Hell for Desirus' soul. I won't enjoy having him here, but I'm sure Samael would have lots of fun tormenting him for all eternity."

Michael cringed, but kept his mouth shut on the matter. "Couldn't you come back with me?" At his dark brother's startled look, he explained. "If the Lord forgives you, can't you come back to Heaven and be once more the archangel that you were?"

Long fingers intertwined with Michael's. "I'm afraid that is impossible, little brother. You see, this place has already polluted me. And I would never leave my Legions behind. They followed me unbidden; they fell with me and served me in spite of the great changes they had to undergo. It would be a betrayal to leave them for the comfort of Heaven, without any support or love. They would destroy themselves, and Earth, and everything I still hold dear. And that is a chance I am not willing to take. If keeping Hell under control is my punishment for speaking against God then so be it. But I can never come back and pretend this never happened."

Michael nodded, saddened. It was true, someone had to keep the Fallen Legions under control, and Lucifer probably managed that just fine. Still... "I will miss you greatly, brother," he said hugging him. "It hasn't been the same without you, and it will never be."

Lucifer was contented to stroke his back for a while. "Come now," he eventually urged. "There's no reason to mourn me. Not again. Besides, I'm sure we can meet on Earth after all this business is taken care of and God gets some of His power back. I'll find you."

"And I'll make sure Gabriel doesn't find out," he archangel managed to chuckle. "So, what does it take to go from Hell to Heaven?"

"That, my dear Michael, is a matter of knowing the right place and mastering corporal displacement."

Part 4

As it turned out, the Ascension point Lucifer had spoken of was located somewhere in the bowels of the dark angel's palace. The way to it was a maze of darkness so thick not even the Morning Star's light could penetrate, and Michael had to hold onto Lucifer in order not to get lost. The Prince of Darkness had, naturally, no problem with orientation - his domain, and his rules. The archangel doubted even Lucifer's minions could accidentally stumble upon the route to the Ascension Chamber.

Thankfully there was light in the room, which was not really a room but rather a sphere of cosmic matter that prevented anything and anyone from going in or out of it unless they had the right key spell. The obstacle was quickly out of the way, revealing a breach of space-continuum shot by comets and stars. It was beautiful, in a dark kind of way - just like Lucifer's new form.

Michael smiled again, one final time before he would get back to his boring life as an angel. "Darkness has never been more appealing then when I am with you, my brother. Are you certain I cannot stay?"

Lucifer took his hand and kissed it. "That is my most selfish wish, Michael. But it is better for you to go. And the sooner I get rid of Desirus the better, no?"

"That sounds like blackmail, Lucifer!" the archangel protested, but found his words cut short by Lucifer's lips, demandingly pressed on his. One last kiss before they were separated once more. One last, sweet, lingering kiss as Lucifer's arms encircled him and dark wings closed around his body, a sharp light enveloping them both.

When he was released, they were standing on the shores of a clear lake, an endless plain stretching in front of their eyes. Large gates dominated the horizon, warm light loaded with whispers and songs of joy emanating from behind them.

It was... Paradise!

Hands coming around his waist let Michael know Lucifer was still there, still a solid and soothing presence. "Your home, little brother. The place where you belong."

Michael's right hand found Lucifer's. "You could come back, you know. The Lord is forgiving..." he tired again, but in his soul he knew it was impossible. It saddened him to no end, but it was what Lucifer wanted; what Lucifer thought best for everyone.

A whisper in his ear, "Go now. You think you can open the Gates on your own?"

"My strength is as great as it was before I left. I think I can do it. If not, Uriel will do it for me."

"And what makes you think Uriel still has his powers?"

The archangel turned abruptly, meeting Lucifer's gaze. "Why shouldn't he..." But he stopped, transfixed by what he saw. No longer a vision of darkness, but an azure angel looking back at him, with Lucifer's face and strength and long hair which was now dark blue.

"I would not bring darkness to this place," the dark angel said. "Now go. If you cannot open the Gates, step aside and I'll do it for you." An alabaster hand rose, cupping Michael's cheek for an instant before dropping. "I shall see you on Earth, my lovely archangel. Do not forget your promise. And, as a personal favour to me, don't irritate Gabriel too much."

Michael nodded and then abruptly spread his wings and rose in the sky, flying toward the entrance to Heaven. He knew the gilded frame and how to open it. Its beauty had never faded, never changed... except for one detail. Nowadays, Uriel and his angels stood guard behind the Gates rather than in front of them.

He tried his best to open them, sending a burst of angelic energy towards them. They bulged, but did not completely open. He tried again, with the same result. He sighed, took one step aside and looked back toward the Lake of Souls, knowing that Lucifer probably wouldn't have that problem. It alarmed him that the Prince of Darkness had more power than any being in Heaven - other than God, perhaps - and that he could come and go as he pleased. But he was also certain that his dark brother wouldn't use that power against God, as he had promised Michael. Conquering Heaven didn't seem to be part of whatever plan he had for the moment.

The azure being was now floating over the lake's surface, flapping wings sending a gentle breeze to disturb the mirror surface. Lucifer suddenly opened his arms, and a beam of energy flew past Michael sending the Gates open. "Go," the dark angel mouthed, his body falling backwards and shattering the water's surface, sending sparkling droplets everywhere.

And Michael obeyed, crossing the threshold into Heaven proper, to be met by amazed silence. Uriel stood near the gates, sword drawn and his underling angels gathered around him, all gazing at Michael with unhidden astonishment. The same could be said for the rest of Heaven, he was sure.

He did not linger there. He gathered his robes, of pure white light once more, around himself and made straight for the Lord's Throne, past groups of gaping human souls, silent angels and frowning archangels as he climbed the steps one by one, respectful and polite... and keeping a blank face. It was his unspoken concession to Lucifer's revelations of earlier hours. Once he spoke with God, he would talk to Gabriel and his other five brothers, and he'd tell them what he now thought of their behaviour. He'll make them stop treating Lucifer like he was a traitor!

Being in the presence of the Lord after time spent on Earth, and then in Hell's darkness - even the dimmed version he had been exposed to - was exhilarating, and made him chant a hymn of love as he knelt in front of the Creator, always the obedient child.

God's hand touched his face, infinitely gentle. Streams of peace flowed through him, and for a moment he let himself forget everything but that feeling and his Creator's presence, as eternal and pure as the Gardens of Eden themselves.

Then the Lord spoke, "I had thought you forever gone, My child, My archangel... having you back is a great joy to us all."

"I am happy to be back, Heavenly Father. But please, if I may speak to You in private." The archangel dared look up and feel His glory. He whispered, "It is about Lucifer."

Indignant gasps could be heard from all around, but the Lord granted his request. A barrier of silence was erected between God's Throne and the rest of Heaven, not allowing anyone to hear the discussion taking place between the Lord and His archangel.

"He rescued my life and took me to his palace in Hell, Heavenly Father," Michael spoke up.

The Lord caressed his child's face and sighed. "My dark angel... he would do that. And he returned you to Me, untainted. I am grateful for that."

Michael nodded curtly. "Lord, his prophecy... it has been fulfilled. Did You know this would happen?" He got no answer, but he hadn't been expecting one.

"That is not what you wanted to tell me," the Lord reminded him.

"No, Father. Lucifer, he... he said You should have asked him to perform the task assigned to me. He said he would have done it, in Your Name." Feeling bolder, he continued, "He misses You; he still loves You. He says his Legions have lost that ability, but he... he can still feel. I never thought he could be so changed, and yet so much the same..."

"I know that he still loves Me, Michael, and I sense your troubled thoughts. But you see, child, he loves someone else more than he loves Me. And an angel cannot feel that way. You were meant to love each other equally, and love Me above all. But Lucifer..." God shook his head, "Lucifer has always been a stubborn one. Persistent in his theories, not leaving room for mistakes. He has spent too much time watching humanity develop. He loves the human souls, his brother angels and demons, and Me. But he is in love with only one being. Do you know who, Michael?"

The archangel remembered that argument, one which Gabriel had used many times against the Fallen One. Lucifer's pride and arrogance, and his love for... "Himself, Lord? But I don't believe that. I can't believe that, not anymore!"

The Creator was silent for a while. "You are right, My child," he finally said. "He is not in love with himself; it is not in his nature. But he, Michael, is in love with you. And understand, I couldn't allow that love to grow. If it did, it would have produced discrimination among your ranks."

Michael thought he knew what the Lord meant, but he needed to consider that new development before he could give an answer to the accusation brought against his dark brother. Lucifer had said he would rid the world of Desirus, not for the Lord but for Michael. 'I have grown to love other things much, much more,' he had said. And he had always been protective of Michael.

So Lucifer's apparent defiance had been just a pretext to teach him that his love for Michael was not acceptable? That the Lord would not have the second place in an archangel's heart?

The wall of silence was lowered, a silent dismissal. "I understand, Father," he said and stood up, bowing deeply. "Please forgive me if I have troubled You." He turned and descended the stairs, just as silent as he had been on his arrival. When he reached the foot of the Throne he opened his wings and, ignoring the anxious whispers of the other angels, flew in search of a quiet place where he could think things over without anyone disturbing him.

He found himself sitting on the Lake of Souls' shores, pondering what he had been told. He had known Lucifer's feelings toward him were strong, but he hadn't imagined they would go beyond the regular love all angels shared. And to love Michael more than he loved the Heavenly Father... it truly was sacrilege.

However, it was this sacrilege that made the archangel see things in a brand new perspective. The Lord had used the best opportunity He'd had and, under the pretext of disobedience and challenging God's word, He had presented Lucifer with two choices. Either defeat the Legions led by Michael and keep his place at God's side, or be defeated and cast down from Heaven never to return.

When Lucifer had spoken to Azazel about his defeat, he had said it had been his own weakness which had led to it. Michael had wondered what weakness that had been, but he wouldn't have dreamed that it was himself.

Lucifer loved Michael, and Lucifer loved God. God had said Lucifer loved Michael more that he loved Him, and Lucifer had confessed he loved other things more than he loved the Lord. Lucifer had refused to even try to come back to Heaven and ask for forgiveness, and said it was better that way.

'He still loves me,' he concluded, taking his head in his hands. 'More than he loves the Lord... God, what have I done to deserve such devotion?'

And yet, there had been a thought, back while he was trapped in Hell. A thought he had suppressed immediately, a thought that had come back to haunt him. God was Universal Love - how could He feel something as petty as jealousy?

'Stop it, stop it, stop it!' his mind ordered. 'How can you even think such things? How can you doubt your own love and devotion to the Heavenly Father? You are His favourite archangel; you are back in His Presence and in Heaven, where Love and Devotion are the strongest.'

And yet... a part of him felt empty. A small piece of his heart, which he had left with his dark brother.

Lost in thought as he was, he did not notice the other archangels approaching. He was startled by Uriel's touch on his shoulder and the suddenly powerful presence of all his five brothers, who sat down around him one by one, with solemn looks on their faces.

Uriel was the first to speak, a thrill going through his voice as he welcomed Michael back home. He was Michael's Second-in-Command, and he'd always proved a reliable help, although he had never been able to perfectly fill Lucifer's place as Michael's confidant after the Great Fall. Still, of all those present Michael favoured him.

He nodded politely at the sincere words, and waited for Gabriel or Metatron to speak. The two of them were his equals and the only ones entitled to question him, after God. Besides, Gabriel would want answers.

Surely enough, it was the red-haired archangel who spoke next. Unlike the mild curiosity coming from the others, his feelings were quite strong. "Michael, what happened? You disappeared from Earth and nobody could track you down! It was impossible to just vanish like you did, and then return to Heaven like nothing happened!"

He breathed deeply before answering. "Lucifer took me to his palace to heal."

Silence swept through the Immortality Plains. Gabriel would get angry... but Michael couldn't conceal the truth, could he now.

Gabriel's green eyes narrowed. He didn't burst just yet. "Lucifer, you say?" Michael nodded, so he continued, "And how did you get back here? Don't tell me he brought you, because I won't believe it."

Of course he wouldn't. To him, no evil could have access in Heaven. But he tended to forget that Lucifer wasn't all evil.

"He did bring you, didn't he?" Metatron intervened, keeping a collected face that his status as First Archangel required. He wouldn't be thrilled by Michael's new knowledge either.

"Look, it doesn't matter. Really, he's just trying to help. He's going to kill Desirus in the Lord's name, and in time things will hopefully get back to normal."

Metatron eyed him dubiously. Raphael and Sandalphon started whispering to each other. Uriel was content to stare.

Gabriel, on the other hand, laughed. "You really believe that, don't you? That the up-to-no-good Satan will decide to be on God's side for a change. Michael," he shook his head, "you let his silver tongue get to you. Lucifer doesn't want to help us. He wants to get rid of us. And what better way to achieve that than by teaching the human race to forget about God and angels? He made his 'prophecy' work, and now all we can do is wait for his armies to find a way to march right into Heaven and slaughter us all!" At Michael's incredulous look, he continued, "He deceived you, brother. Just like he deceives everyone else. He made you believe his lies, by making them sound so plausible even an angel won't know the difference."

Why was Michael not surprised at his words? Oh yes, because he'd heard the same argument thousands of times, and because Gabriel had no way of knowing that Lucifer... Lucifer...

"He didn't lie to me!" the archangel insisted. "I know he didn't. The Lord knows he didn't. Go ask Him!" When he saw Gabriel staring at him, he got up and pushed him. "Go! The Heavenly Father is all-knowing, is He not? He'll tell you what Lucifer will be doing, and why. If you don't believe me, then perhaps you will believe Him!"

"Calm down, Michael," Metatron ordered. "We are in Heaven; remember that here nobody shouts to get their point across. Gabriel is right; Lucifer did get to you in some way." His lips twisted a little as he pronounced the dark angel's name.

"Come," Uriel added, stepping at his side and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Let's go back into the Garden of Eden so you can get some rest. You'll feel different once you think things over."

It was clearly meant as a comfort; too bad nothing could influence his reasoning at that point. He knew what they didn't know, and it made him miserable just to imagine what they thought about their Fallen Brother.

Well, he'd never been afraid to speak his mind. Lucifer had asked him not to irritate Gabriel, but... perhaps they were right. Perhaps spending some time in Hell had influenced him. He was feeling particularly unkind at that moment.

"You really think that, don't you? That I'll feel better in time. Well I have news for you. Huge news. First of all," he pulled himself out of his Second-in-Command's grasp and took a step toward Metatron, "you are going to stop acting like you're the all-knowing, never-failing archangel you think you are. Because you're not the First Archangel, and that means I don't have to listen to any of your philosophical or metaphysical sermons unless I choose to.

"And you, Gabriel, will stop calling Lucifer names. You can't even comprehend the choices he's been forced to make, or the way his mind works. He still loves the Creator, no matter what you and everybody else thinks."

He noticed that Raphael was about to speak up, so he carried on, "And you, Raphael and Sandalphon... all you ever do is confer among yourselves and agree with either one of these two." He pointed at both Metatron, who seemed to be left speechless, and Gabriel, who was positively fuming and about to retaliate. "Do you bother to even think outside the Grace of Our Lord? No, that would be blasphemy. And Uriel..." he turned to his youngest archangel brother, "I know you mean well but at times you are too zealous to carry out people's orders without analyzing the possible results.

"Well, I am going to tell you this, my archangel brothers. Lucifer isn't planning to take over Earth or Heaven, or to take God's place. In fact, he has agreed to help the Lord in this matter, in spite of the fact the Fallen Legions won't be at all happy, and that should vouch for his intentions."

Thunders of outrage crossed the sky as Gabriel finally exploded. "I'll kill him! Tell me what he did to you, and I'll kill him!" He grabbed the front of Michael's garments and stared into blue eyes. "He tainted you, the most innocent of us all, and made you into one of his disciples! That treacherous and deceitful demon...!"

Michael laughed. "He said you would react like this. But no, Gabriel, he did not taint me. He simply told me some truths, although at the time I didn't know his reasons for doing it. But now that the Lord told me those reasons, I think I finally understand him. You, on the other hand, I do not. You are in Heaven," he reminded him in a tone of voice reminiscent of Metatron's earlier words. "You shouldn't get mad at your brothers, fallen or not fallen. You shouldn't judge God's creations when He has not expressed His feelings on the matter. Or I know that the Heavenly Father still cares about Lucifer, in spite of all the accusations you have brought against him after he fell. You call him Satan, 'God's Accuser'. Well, I call you 'Lucifer's Accuser'. What is it you resent him, Gabriel? The fact he was the Lord's most beloved archangel before the Fall? Or is it something else?"

He saw the light that crossed Gabriel's eyes at those final words. "I resent him you," the red-haired archangel replied. "You. Everything you used to do was for him. And when he instigated a revolt and brought war in Heaven, and was punished for it, you mourned him. You still loved him more than you loved us, although you hid it well. That's what I resent him, Michael. Your love, which he isn't worthy to receive."

Poor Michael was a little too astounded to react immediately. He hadn't realized that he truly did love Lucifer differently from the others until after Lucifer had rescued him from Desirus' hands, and perhaps not even then... God, he had been blind! He'd thought everybody had been saddened by the loss of Lucifer and his Legions. Apparently not.

"That's why you kept him away from me," he finally answered. "You were afraid he'd use that love against me. I didn't think you could be jealous of Lucifer until today, Gabriel." 'Just as I hadn't thought the Lord could be jealous of me. Hopefully they won't side against the two of us...'

"Gabriel, that's quite enough," Metatron finally cut in, although his voice was colder than usual. He was to be the voice of reason in all this. "Let Michael go. We shall go ask for the Heavenly Father's assistance in this matter. Michael could be right about certain things."

Gabriel finally released his hold on him, but that was all. "No. It is the evil planted in him speaking. The spawn of darkness Lucifer has had him sneak into Heaven to contaminate us."

"Now you're getting paranoid," Uriel intervened, after he had asked Raphael to bring their grievance in front of the Creator. "No evil can survive in Heaven, isn't that so?"

"So I thought. Now I'm not so sure." Gabriel was unrelenting, and something told Michael she should be afraid of what his brother might do.

"Gabriel, I beg of you," Sandalphon too intervened, "wait until the Lord passes judgement on this matter. There's nothing else we can do."

But Gabriel was still glaring at the blond archangel. His voice was even when he addressed his brother. "What will it be, then? Will you realize he's just using you and come to your senses, or will you keep believing his lies?" His words were met with silence, and he drew his own conclusions on the matter. "You disappoint me, brother. I thought you were the purest of us all. Obviously I was mistaken. You were one of his followers all along."

Michael took a step back, nearly colliding with Uriel. Something was terribly wrong with Gabriel. He had always been on the lookout for treason, but apparently nowadays he saw it everywhere.

"This was a cunning plan, I admit it. Having you fight on different sides and defeating him, and then leaving you up here with us unsuspecting angels, so you could poison our thoughts little by little. Well your plan has been discovered now, Michael," he grinned. "And I am not as forgiving as the Lord."

The moment Gabriel lounged for him Michael realized what he was planning to do and tried to back away. Unfortunately Uriel was still behind him, so he bumped into the other archangel's body. Gabriel grabbed him and he desperately tried to cling onto something solid, something that would buy him enough time for the others to intervene. Of all the places in Heaven, he'd incidentally chosen the worst one to be in at the time!

Michael's hand closed on solid substance, but it wasn't angelic flesh; so when Gabriel pulled him forward the object followed, grasped tightly in one hand. From that point on, all became like a dream to him. He heard the others screaming, and Metatron's horrified gasp, but he couldn't find the force to struggle against his furious brother. He felt his body collide with water, and only when he realized he was sinking did he find the power to move, to stretch his wings and attempt to rise...

... but it was too late. With horrified eyes he sank, watching the frightened looks on his brothers' faces and the smirk on Gabriel's. Darkness started closing around him, and a deep pain coursed through him, a thousand-fold stronger than the one he had experienced in a mortal body at Desirus' hands. This was an inner pain, going deeper than anything he had ever felt.

With a silent scream, the archangel fell.

Part 5

There was a reason why the path between Heaven and Hell was called 'The Passage of Sorrow'. Normally, all Ascending souls would leave behind their human essence as they were permeated by the Holy Spirit and received a place in Heaven. But for those who fell, it meant having to go through those human feelings that had been left behind with the knowledge they would never see the face of God again.

For an angel, it was the worst fate possible.

When the vortex of painful emotions finally receded, Michael's body was left lying on an abandoned plain, spasming with the hurt he still felt and utterly alone.

He had enough energy left to groan and curl to one side, the broken carcass of a once glorious archangel. He managed to squeeze his eyes shut and whimper. Why didn't anyone come for him? Why had he been abandoned there?

Then the voices came, dark whispers that penetrated his mind. 'This is your punishment, to be alone, you who were loved and worshiped. You don't deserve this.'

At first, he did not want to listen to what they were saying. But little by little he started finding a strange comfort in those words, and something new started seeping into his body, feelings he hadn't experienced before. Hate. Rage. Desire for revenge.

'They hurt you, they all hurt you,' the voices were saying now. 'You must get rid of all those who have hurt you. Kill... kill... kill!'

'Kill them all? No... I shall make them suffer first...'

'Yes!' the voices shrilled in excitement. 'Make them suffer for eternity!'

Michael knew his body was shivering, and that he was no longer alone. Quite a few fallen angels had gathered to see who their new brother was, and many spawns of Hell and trapped human souls were lingering just beyond these demons.

And there was laughter, mocking and malicious. He hated it; and how he hated them all as well!

Still, he would not look at them. He remembered Azazel's new body, such a contrast to his previous appearance and personality. He did not want to se what he had become, nor did he want them to see it.

Maybe, if he ignored them, they would go away.

The laughter continued, increasing in volume until he had to cover his ears and scream, but it did not stop. God, it didn't stop...!

'God has abandoned you; He didn't help you when you needed Him. Hate Him!' the voices said.

Finally everything went silent as a powerful being approached him. Lucifer? No, he would have felt the dark angel miles away. Someone else of high rank in Hell, then.

"Well, well, look what the dragons dragged in," said a firm and cruel voice, nothing like the ones lurking in the back of Michael's mind.

It was Samael's.

He forced himself to remain still and once again refused to look up. He'd heard what Samael did to angels who crossed his path. Of all of Lucifer's lieutenants, this one was the most feared one.

"What is it, little angel? Did you trip and fall into the lake and ended up here?" the fire demon mocked him. "Time to wake up and taste reality! We don't like your kind coming here uninvited. Get on your knees!"

Michael didn't. So naturally the fire demon responded like his nature dictated - he raged. "On your knees, reject! You have no rank here until you earn one. Obey!"

Honestly, Michael was getting really tired at people yelling at him like that. First Gabriel, now Samael. Who did they think they were, to treat him like that?!

'You are an archangel,' the voices encouraged him. 'You are powerful. Don't allow him to patronize you. Punish him!'

'How?'

'The sword. Get the sword.'

Michael frowned. What sword? He hadn't had one on him when he'd fallen. Still, he eventually managed to drag himself up little by little. If he had to face Samael, he would do it standing.

His hand touched something familiar in the process, and he stilled. He ran a hand over a scorched pommel, and realized what the voices had meant. The object he'd grabbed from his brother Uriel when Gabriel had thrown him into the lake of Souls... was the Sword of Justice! Its burning blade had been neutralized by the fall, but it would spring to life the instant its power was summoned.

Samael was so dead!

Pure fire shot through him when he grasped the weapon and murmured the key which activated it. When he got up he felt different... everything felt different. His own body, which had lain broken only moments before, was now filling with true power.

Samael was nothing. He didn't even have the chance to move before Michael's first strike came down. And another, and another. His own sadistic chuckle filled the sickening air as his eyes fixed on the body of the fire demon, which now lay at his feet bleeding.

Boiled to death in his own blood - hmm, what an appealing sight that would make!

"It is time someone taught you some respect for your elders, demonling," he spoke, crooking his head to one side. "And if I have to earn my place in Hell, I guess I'll just take yours for the time being!"

The strange currents flowing through him intensified; the voices whispered promises of power and suffering to all who disobeyed him, cruel death to those who had hurt him...

'Don't listen to them!' a new, strong voice suddenly boomed in his head, making him stiffen. 'Don't listen to them, Michael! They want to deceive you and take control!'

It was Lucifer's voice, powerful and commanding. Michael's rage dropped by a few degrees as his eyes searched for the dark angel.

He was there, flanked by Azazel and Apollyon; no longer deceivingly frail in his robes but a vision of true darkness in his battle armour.

Michael's hand tightened on the sword involuntarily. He wouldn't let himself be intimidated by the Dark Prince of Hell. He had defeated Lucifer once - surely he could do it again!

'Destroy him!' the voices shrieked, even as his own inner voice, a little presence buried by the noise, warned: 'He let you win.'

"Michael, put that sword down," Lucifer spoke, this time aloud.

The voices kept whispering, and he was ready to listen, ready to obey... until he met Lucifer's eyes.

God, those eyes... they were dark, but swirling with concern. He remembered those eyes from before. Lucifer had never hurt him, Lucifer loved him...

'Lies lies lies!' the voices lamented.

No, not lies. They were not lies. What had he been doing? Archangels did not try to kill their brothers!

'He will hurt you,' the voices warned him; but he chose not to listen. He lowered the sword and watched Lucifer step forward, fearless when all the others cowered back.

He kept his eyes on the fine face and forced himself not to react as Lucifer's hand closed on his, peeling the Sword of Justice from his fingers. The dark angel winced at the contact, but willed it away. It obeyed him and disappeared in a swirl of flames.

Michael crumbled against Lucifer's armoured chest and strong arms came up to support him. His breathing was harsh, and his eyes watery. "What have I done?" he asked, completely at a loss. "I nearly killed him, oh God I nearly...!"

Lucifer kissed his brow, always the calm in the middle of a storm. "Hush now, little brother. You weren't yourself. Don't worry, I can easily heal Samael."

"The voices... they were so many, so tempting... Lucifer, help me! Make them stop! Please!"

"Shh," the dark angel whispered reassuringly. "Of course I'll help you. But you have to do as I say, alright?" Michael nodded. "Good. Keep calm, and don't allow the voices to gain control again. And I want you to stay here by Azazel."

Michael felt him pull away. Was he leaving him there? No, he was merely going to heal his hurt brother, and then he would return. Breathing deeply, he went to stand by the stone angel, who was watching him with cold eyes.

"Azazel, be nice," Lucifer ordered as he kneeled next to Samael's body. Surprisingly, Apollyon was already there, holing the fire angel's hand. Darkness, ice and fire combined - what an amazing sight!

Lucifer's own hand tightened on theirs, and the Fallen One started a healing spell. Tendrils of darkness swirled about the place, turning to green and violet as they gathered around the fire angel's damaged body. Michael knew what the green was, but...

"What's the violet?" he asked without thinking. He'd seen it used before, but suspicion was hardly something to go by.

Beside him the stone angel grunted. "Can't you tell? It's obvious."

And Michael could tell, because he was no longer just a guest in that place. He was part of it, as little as he may have liked it. And, even without the terrific power that had flowed through him moments before, he was stronger that he had been in a very long time. He remembered that kind of strength, the one that could easily manipulate anything at his command, and embraced it, reacquainting himself with it.

Ignoring Azazel's protest he went to Samael's side and knelt there as well, willingly meeting Lucifer's surprised gaze and answering with a little smile on his lips. He caressed some of the flaming hair, thus drawing a hiss of protest from Apollyon.

"I am sorry, my brother. I normally would never have hurt you."

At his command, it came. Not as powerful as Lucifer's, not violet but a thin tendril of azure that combined with the rest. It was love, and it amazed him that he could still feel it for anyone but the dark angel. Samael's ruby eyes widened at its touch, tentative at first but slowly gaining substance. He had clearly not expected it.

Soon the healing was done, and Lucifer pulled him back gently. "See to Samael's safety," he told Apollyon and watched after the two as they left. The rest had gone away when Lucifer had started the healing spell, chased by an evil look coming from Azazel. Now there were just the three of them left on the plain.

The stone angel stole an uncertain glance at Michael. It looked - no, felt - like he wanted to say something but could not bring himself to it.

"It's alright," Lucifer assured him. "You can ask, he won't refuse you."

"Refuse him?" Michael blinked.

"A little unconditional love. But later, Azazel. There are things Michael and I must discuss first."

Azazel bowed. "I shall care after our battle dragon, Sire," he declared before leaving the two of them all alone.

"Battle dragon?"

"I was about to go to Earth and take care of our little problem," Lucifer explained. "I felt something change right before crossing into the mortal plane, so I turned back. I'm glad I did."

A light hand touched Michael's shoulder, surprisingly warm this time - or perhaps Michael's own body was colder now -, in a clear invitation to follow.

They materialized in the bedroom - 'Where else?' Michael thought smugly - and he was literally dragged down on the bed and into Lucifer's arms.

"What have you done, little brother?" the dark angel's voice cracked, pain that had been hidden under a calm disguise seeping free and breaking through Michael's precariously built shields.

Michael collapsed against his dark brother's chest and let his tears flow free.

Not able to bring himself to actually tell Lucifer about his fight with Gabriel he had eventually opened his mind, unaware that by doing so he was also transferring part of his inner suffering to the Prince of Darkness. In the end Lucifer had cried out and severed their mental link, holding onto Michael tightly and petting his hair.

"Gabriel would do well to stay out of my way for the next few millennia," he finally declared brazenly.

"You warned me not to irritate him," Michael answered. "For some reason I couldn't hold back."

"You couldn't have predicted he would react so badly, little brother," Lucifer assured him. "Still, what am I going to do with you now?"

"Keep me here? I fell, Lucifer! What else is there to do?"

"The Lord did not judge you, Michael. Technically, you are here by mistake and you can probably go back. It will be difficult, because this time Hell has tainted you, but possible nevertheless."

"The voices..." Michael shuddered. "They're the essence of this place, aren't they?"

Lucifer nodded. "At first, Hell was simply the Lord's absence. But as the concept evolved in the human imagination, things started to change. We, the Fallen, have changed, moulding on humanity's image of Hell. The voices are temptation. They promise you power and revenge; it's hard not to give in to them."

"You hear them too," Michael realized. "Don't they ever stop?"

Lucifer smiled bitterly. "They do, for a while... but they always come back. When I brought you here before, I shielded you from them so they would not taint you. But they kept talking to me, trying to make me keep you here as my slave. They said I should help Desirus and destroy God. I nearly..." His hands shook for a moment, caught in the motion of lifting Michael's face to look directly at him. He squeezed his eyes shut for an instant. "It doesn't matter any longer. Destroying God would mean the destruction of the whole universe, including myself and those I love. It is not going to happen."

Michael nodded and rose from the bed, trying to find the best way to ask what had been on his mind ever since he'd seen Lucifer again. Finally, he settled for the short and meaningful, "I know."

"Of course you know. But you must understand that I walk a narrow path, and my self control gets precarious at times so there's always the danger..."

"Not that! Well, that too, but it's not what I meant."

"Then what is it that you know, Michael?"

He turned; the dark angel was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at him questioningly. For someone who apparently knew everything that happened in his realm and on Earth, as well as part of what was going on in Heaven, the Prince of Darkness knew very little.

"The true reason for your fall. God told me right after I went back." He watched the dark angel freeze. "Lucifer, I... I had no idea! Really, I just though it was because your defiance, but... apparently not."

Lucifer's voice was incredibly clear as he replied, "I made my choice. God shouldn't be blamed for anything. He asked, I chose. It was that simple."

Not having seen his dark brother so disturbed before, Michael sat next to him and took his hand in his. "You chose to fall? But why?"

"I did not choose to fall - this is merely a consequence of my choice. God loved me too much to destroy me, so He condemned me to a life deprived of His presence instead. You see, He can be a cruel Master. He did not see that my love for you was different than the one I had for Him, only that it was just as great. So He made me choose between you and Him. I couldn't possibly kill you... so I found a middle way."

He dragged himself out of the dark mood that was threatening to envelop him, though, and smiled. "Now, Michael, why don't we go to speak to the Lord and let Him know you're alright? I'm sure He is very worried. And we'll also see what can be done about Gabriel and this whole mess."

Part 6

The large mirror in Lucifer's library was to act as a medium between two worlds once more, but Michael was still not sure how the dark angel would be able to contact Heaven by using it. So while Lucifer was busy positioning it - position was very important, the Prince of Darkness had said - he looked around the large room once more, finding some minor changes since his last visit there.

The room was a little bit brighter, he decided. Soon he discovered the reason, namely the Sword of Justice, which gravitated inside a force field above a pedestal of volcanic glass. Reaching out a hand, Michael felt the pull it had on him, but decided not to touch it for the time being.

Instead, he turned on his feet and went to stand next to his dark brother, who was now fixing the mirror into place with strategically placed webs of darkness, which allowed it to remain suspended a foot above the ground. There was no sign of other spells active around it, though.

"Nice work," he said before catching a glimpse of himself in it and gasping. He'd known his body had changed, but he hadn't realized in what way until that very moment.

"You've always been a little unaware of your looks, haven't you?" Lucifer remarked with a hint of amusement. "Well, do step up and see what you look like now," he encouraged his brother, grasping his shoulders in his hands and pulling him forward.

There were no major changes, Michael noted. The only things that had truly changed were his hair and his wings. It was the same change in both, the roots having become red and gradually fading to gold and then yellow. In truth, the change in his wings was the one which frightened him most, because they were a clear sign he was not a pure angel any longer.

Dark flames met blue ones in the mirror as Lucifer's hold on his shoulders tightened. "You are magnificent," the dark angel declared. One hand travelled down Michael's arm to coil around his waist possessively while the other played with a strand of his hair. "Your inner passion is now reflected in your appearance. I am certain your control over fire exceeds Samael's... and you probably still retain control over light. I wonder what other powers you would possess, as a dark angel..."

Onyx eyes narrowed, and something dark passed on Lucifer's face all of a sudden; but he quickly shook himself. "Damned voices," he whispered to himself, but let go of Michael. "Come now, let us begin."

The spell required great focus from the dark angel, and the formula was spoken loudly, the powerful voice echoing inside the vaulted room. Soon the mirror started glowing, violet at first but quickly fading until pure white light emanated from it. The texture of its surface also changed, becoming opaque for a few moments before it started vibrating and rainbows of colour appeared on its surface, dancing in front of the Michael's astonished gaze before fading, leaving the mirror's surface transparent again, only apparently liquid. Then it pulsed, and beyond it the image of Eden formed.

Michael gasped as the mirror seemed to search for something before stopping on a sole image, that of the Heavenly Throne which stood empty.

"Not there?" Lucifer whispered. "Very well, let us try somewhere else..."

Once again the image passed over Heaven, offering them glimpses of the Choirs before it located the One it was looking for. God stood near a fountain in a remote part of the Garden, all alone. Again the image shifted, and it became that of the fountain's surface, offering a direct look into the startled Face of God.

"Can He see us?" Michael asked in a combination of excitement and awe.

Lucifer snorted at the same time God's voice filled the library, calm and compassionate. "Of course I can, child. What kind of question is that?"

Lucifer placed a hand over his heart and bowed his head in greeting. "Michael did not believe I could truly contact you, Lord. To tell the truth, I was not sure I would succeed, either. But here we are..."

The Lord nodded. "It has been a long time since we last spoke, My child. I regret it is under such dire circumstances that we see one another." He turned His eyes on Michael, apparently searching for the right words. "What happened to you is regrettable, Michael," he finally said. "Rest assure that Gabriel has been detained, and will be cast down from Heaven as My Justice demands."

Michael's horrified face was not the only reaction to God's words.

"Absolutely not!" Lucifer protested. "If he Falls, Lord, and comes into my kingdom, I shall kill him, regardless of the fact he is my brother."

"Lucifer, please..." Michael began, but a dark look made him stop. Lucifer did not look like he was joking.

"You shall have to find another way to punish him, Lord," the dark angel continued. "And Michael should be allowed to come back, as compensation for what was done to him."

"You are stubborn, Lucifer, and still live up to your reputation," the Creator said. "But you are also right - I do not want Gabriel to die, no matter how severe his deed. As for you, Michael, I am afraid all I can offer you is a choice. You can either come back to Heaven and be cleansed of Hell's taint, or remain there. Which shall it be?"

'But I cannot choose now! If I go back to Heaven, things will be forgiven but not forgotten, and Gabriel would still be punished. Which he deserves, really, but... Lucifer...' There had to be a way to delay this decision, at least until he could think things over. What could he do? He could not tell the Lord that he hesitated between his duty and his brother. Unless...

Michael looked straight into the face of the Creator. "Lord, let me do something for You first. Let me go on Earth and kill Desirus in Your name, as You had originally planned. I have the necessary strength, now; and Lucifer will help me. And afterwards, I shall tell You my choice."

Standing next to him, Lucifer nodded his silent agreement.

"My archangel," God said after a tense moment. "So be it."

The image in the mirror instantly vanished, as did everything else, and Michael found himself looking at his own reflection. He turned to Lucifer, blue eyes pleading for his approval.

"You need to think things over," Lucifer answered his unasked question. "I do not blame you. Cleansing is not something I would like to go through any time soon; but it is the only way He will let you go back."

"You will help me to kill Desirus, won't you?" the archangel asked, trying to change the subject. Cleansing also meant his memory would be erased, and he did not know if that wouldn't be too high a price. He could choose to remain on Earth and spread God's Word among mortals, or even stay here with Lucifer. His dark brother would not deny him that, would he?

"First you need to rest and regain your strength," Lucifer said. "Then we shall go on Earth, and settle this matter once and for all."

And so while Lucifer was busy working out the details, Michael either slept or tested his newly-regained powers. He was nearly as strong as he had been during the Heavenly Wars, and the Sword of Justice would make his duty a very easy one indeed.

He saw something of Hell, too; and what he did see left him divided between pity and compassion. The place was getting overcrowded, true to what Lucifer had told him, and it was hard to prove the existence of god to souls that did not believe in Him, or had never heard of Him. What pain they were in, the souls caused themselves; it was more emotional than physical, and the landscape did not encourage them to feel anything but desolate. Still, there were those whom, having reached illumination would have made the transition, had Ascending still been possible. But with God's power so weak that the passage had been closed to anyone but archangels, Lucifer had told him. The dark angel had offered these souls sanctuary into his palace, Pandemonium, with the solemn promise of sending them to Heaven as soon as he found a way to do so. They had marvelled at Michael, the first true angel they had ever seen, and he spent some time in their company. As did, he suspected, Lucifer; and it was this side of him that was rarely seen by others. Azazel knew, the archangel believed, but did not say a word to the other Fallen.

He also found out that Samael and Apollyon, complete opposites at first, had found companionship in each other. Lucifer was thrilled by their achievement, and had kindly asked Michael not to tell them that it was love they were experiencing. For he had tried, and they had denied it, saying that it was their common hate which united them. Lucifer had let them believe what they wanted, for he knew the truth. Now, so did Michael.

The moment finally came for Michael to go on Earth, and by that time he had reached his decision. He knew that neither the Lord nor his dark brother would entirely approve, but it was his choice to make and he intended to do just that.

Staying in Pandemonium's highest tower, wearing the same armour he had worn when he had first gone to Earth - and Lucifer had yet to explain how it had come in his possession, as well as how come Sacred objects were not anathema to him - and holding the Sword of Justice once more, he overlooked the Kingdom of Darkness with fondness and regret.

"Ready to go?" Lucifer asked. He was holding the reins of a magnificent unicorn with glossy black coat, its coppery horn alight. He wore no armour this time - he did not need to impress anyone, unlike Michael. They could have taken Desirus in his sleep, but witnesses and a show of strength, of power beyond the self-declared God-King's grasp, would do much to persuade the masses. Their plan varied little from the Creator's original one; the only difference would be that, where Michael had failed, together they would succeed.

Michael sighed. "I am. You will come, yes?" Lucifer nodded. "But how should I know where to find you?"

"I'll follow you, little brother. I'll be where you are, and to see me all you have to do is look. I am not that deceiving to an angel's eyes... not this time."

Michael nodded and mounted; the unicorn neighed and rose above Hell, speeding towards the mortal realm.

Desirus' guards, taken by surprise, either fled or were disposed of with a thought. Michael did not need to worry about making no casualties this time. Before, he had come in peace; now, he had come to punish. The magic barriers protecting the palace prickled him as he dispersed them. His powers were back, and no mortal would be his match.

No doubt, Desirus had not been expecting an incarnation of light and flames to burst into his place at sunrise; but he was incredibly collected when Michael entered the throne room. Still, he laughed again at Michael's claim, though not denying his amazement that the angel had survived his first attempt. "This time, you will not escape my wrath. For I am the one and only Dark God of Earth!" he haughtily declared.

Then he summoned his necromancers again; their spells were strong, and together they could have undoubtedly destroyed part of the mortal realm. Therefore it looked highly suspicious when they all burst into flames at exactly the same moment.

While Desirus ranted and raved, and sent for more powerful mages Michael looked around the room, knowing he had not done that particular feat. Surely enough, he found a person hiding in the shadows, a person with pale skin, dark hair, and most familiar dark eyes who smiled and gave him a naughty wink before dissolving in the shadows.

It was time, and Lucifer had come to claim Desirus' soul.

"You are no god, but a man," Michael said, pulling the Sword of Justice out of its sheath. "And by your claims you have not only offended the One and True God, our Heavenly Father, but also my brother, the true Prince of Darkness, it is therefore to the darkest place in his kingdom that you shall be banished, to be forever tormented by your pain, until you admit your guilt."

Michael's sword stroke, and the world trembled.

Epilogue

"So this is your decision, child?" God asked, and Michael could not miss the regret with which the words were spoken. There was silence in Heaven, and the Choirs looked stunned.

"Yes, Heavenly Father," he replied, looking straight into God's eyes. "I believe it is the best thing to do, for the well-being of both Heaven and me. I do regret leaving my past behind, but the future is more important than that. I shall take comfort in my memories, and carry on the duties that are assigned to me." His voice softened, and he knelt in front of the Creator's Throne "Forgive me for leaving you, Lord. But I belong at Lucifer's side. He will need someone to help him, now that the world has changed."

"Then so be it," the Lord declared.

Michael stood and stepped aside; there was one more matter that needed God's Judgement and that was truly why the Choirs had gathered there. Gabriel had been judged guilty and his punishment would now be announced.

The Archangel of Annunciation was brought forward. One look at him and Michael could tell that his brother did, indeed, not repent for what he had done. But God had spoken to him, and to Michael and the other Archangels, and He had decided on His child's fate. All that was left to see was what that would be.

"Today is a day of mourning in Heaven," God spoke again. "Both Michael and Gabriel are leaving our ranks; one to become the second dark angel and help Lucifer in his task, and the other is being punished for his unjust deed against his brother." The Lord's eyes turned on the red-haired archangel. "Gabriel, you have been found guilty of speaking against your brother Michael, passing judgement on him without being aware of all the facts, and deciding something that is only in My Power to decide. Your sin is pride and anger, and for this the normal punishment would be your Fall. However, I was told that by doing that I would be sending you straight to your death.

"Therefore, I have given the matter great consideration, and have come up with a more suitable punishment. My Decision is this: you shall be banished from Heaven onto Earth, and there set out to rebuild My Church, and teach mortals of My Existence, guiding their souls toward the Light. And only when you have achieved this to my satisfaction and have accepted and repented for your sins will you be allowed back into Heaven as one of My archangels."

Whispers passed between the Choirs, but nobody spoke up against the Lord's decision. Even Michael found it acceptable, compared to the alternative. He could only hope that Lucifer would feel the same way.

But God had more to say. "The key to your release I trust to one of your brothers, one whom you have greatly wronged. Only he will be able to free you from your punishment, when I decide it is time. Lucifer, step forward."

Deep silence reigned and heads turned as the Prince of Darkness appeared from behind the Heavenly Throne. He was no longer the azure vision Michael had seen floating over the lake of Souls, but the one he had seen in Hell - only his robes were pure white, and he was carrying two silvery bracelets in his hands. These he placed on Gabriel's wrists, before anyone could move or breathe.

"I'm sorry, brother," he told Gabriel; then he held out his hand to Michael. "Come, little brother. It is time for us to go home."

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