Artificial Light (Evolution of Angels Book 3)

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Artificial Light (Evolution of Angels Book 3) Page 21

by Wall, Nathan


  “I’m well on the way to getting us into rift-space.” Khnum stepped quickly and stood in front of Shiva.

  “That’s the problem,” Shiva replied stoically. “You’re still on the way. I’m quite fond of destinations.”

  “What d’ya want with me?” Sobek mumbled. He was forced to his knees. He caught a glimpse of Anubis and turned his eyes up. “Khali was nothing.”

  “She’s more than capable of taking different kinds of poundings.” Shiva smirked, stepped onto the platform and sat in the commander’s chair. He swiveled the seat around to face Sobek. “I’ve been known to give her one on occasion. I think she’ll be fine.” Shiva folded his hands in his lap. His confidence was oddly inspiring. The charismatic tone demanded one hang onto his every word. If he weren’t the enemy, Anubis could understand how some would follow such a figure.

  “Right about now you are probably thinking your resolve will be unaffected by anything I can throw at you. You’d sooner lose a hand than give me what I want,” Shiva said. One of his men pulled Sobek’s hand forward and laid it across the podium that Shiva’s seat was propped up on. Another of Shiva’s cronies materialized a sword from their aurascales. “To go ahead and do away with that barrier in your mind, let’s have off with it.”

  Shiva nodded and his pawn sliced through Sobek’s arm a few inches above the wrist. His scream caused the fractured bones in Anubis’ jaw to vibrate. Sobek curled to the side and crouched into the fetal position. The lackeys passed Sobek’s hand to Shiva and he tossed it aside where it landed in front of Anubis.

  “You may act as if you’ve nothing to lose, or you don’t care what I do. Just know if that’s the case, then I’ll get rid of those options in the most gruesome way possible until I find something that gets you to comply.” Shiva snapped his fingers and pointed at Anubis. His men dragged Anubis over the podium. A few strained gargles of pain rumbled out of his mouth as they moved him. They put a sword to the back of his neck. “You may act like your hand means little to you, but I’m sure you’ll miss the warm embrace it offers as it strokes your cock at night. So tell me, Sobek, do you hold as little love for your dear nephew as you did your five fingered lover?”

  “I’m yours to command,” Sobek coughed. He rolled onto his face and screamed once again.

  “Repeat it.” Shiva stood, staring intently at Sobek. “Louder so everyone can understand you. Those among us who would be your brothers, sisters, and lieutenants desire your words. None more than your poor nephew here with a blade to his head.”

  “I. Am. YOURS.” Sobek propped himself up on his knees and cried.

  Shiva snapped his fingers at Khnum and had him pull Sobek over to the control panel. Sobek worked as fast as he could, occasionally glancing at Anubis to see if the sword still posed a threat. Finally, he stepped away from the control panel and fell to the ground. Those holding Anubis let him go. He rolled to his side, too weak to hold himself in a crouched position.

  “Is it done?” Shiva asked with force.

  “It is,” Khnum said, breathing a giddy sigh of relief. “We await your coordinates.”

  Shiva pressed his palms together and slowly pulled them apart. A crystal with pink mist inside formed in his grasp. He raised an eyebrow to Khnum, telling the groveling traitor to step off. Shiva swiped three fingers down the light panel and a flute opened for the crystal. He placed it inside. The ship rumbled as a static force surged through the outer hull. A flare erupted like a pink star and opened the fabric of space.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The Observer

  Michael walked amongst the thousands of sick and dying, invisible to their eyes. Though his obligation as the last reaper carried him all over the globe, a plague gripping central Africa was the biggest consumer of his time. Every day, countless villages were wiped from existence by the ravages of what humans dubbed ‘the rage’. His current stop in Burundi was no different.

  The disease broke down human tissue until finally the body oozed itself into an idle state. During a person’s last hours, their conscious brain would cease to function, and the primal cortex of their neural patterns would awake to aggressively operate motor functions. Several Red Cross volunteers had been murdered by dying villagers when wandering too close to their patients’ bedsides. Even though the sick were too weak to walk, their aggression was so pronounced, so chaotic and exacting, that even a cat with the quickest reflexes stood little chance.

  His every minute was spent collecting and absorbing souls for their return to Heaven for their judgment. After enduring the grueling pain and questioning of each soul’s death, he periodically vocalized his understanding of the plight Azrael had faced before his banishment. Even though regret for Azrael’s situation was plainly visible on Michael’s face, he remained steadfast in his dedication to his ‘Father’s will’.

  Maybe Gabriel was right about me being too far removed from my days as a collector to do any real good. Michael shook his head and scowled, showing real emotion for the first time since the Last Great War. While I still draw breath, I will remain committed to the cause and deliver the promised.

  “You’re weary.” Raphael stood behind Michael while the Archangel Commander ran his fingers over the face of a dying woman and then down to her belly. A baby kicked his hand from inside the mother’s womb. The woman’s eyes bled and her skin opened with sores. Raphael moved to his leader’s side, examining the woman. “The work of Pestilence?”

  “Maybe.” Michael knelt and closed his eyes. I wish there were more I could do for you, he thought of the unborn child. “This may be one of the horseman causing all this, or maybe we see the fulfillment of prophesies in everyday occurrences. The foretelling of Pestilence may be no more than a vision of what will happen, and not a physical manifestation of a literal being. We know not the whole of what was revealed at Patmos.”

  “A literal person or not, Pestilence and the other three will come to pass. Maybe some are physical, and others merely ideas, but nevertheless they signal another broken seal.” Raphael turned his nose up from the rancid smell. His aurascales crawled over his mouth and nose only, blocking out the stench. “There’s much going on in this world, Michael. Are we ready for it? Who will lead us with you gallivanting about?”

  “I worry not. Father has his plans.” Michael stood, intently watching the woman as she choked on her own blood. The moment of her departure nears. “You came to me for a purpose?”

  “You spoke with Gabriel at the helm before leaving us behind.”

  “I did.”

  “What about?” Raphael asked, seeming to be more interested in the private conversation between the Commander and his right hand man than he should be.

  The woman’s eyes rolled into the back of her head. As if releasing pounds of pressure from her chest, she exhaled. Her soul took the form of a pale blue mist. In the hazy outline, she appeared healthy and rejuvenated. Michael touched the soul and merged it with his being. His eyes sparkled with blue light and his skin held a bluish hue. The pure, raw, and untamed power of the soul coursed through his veins.

  Her life’s regrets and love for the baby… He calmly breathed and leaned over the corpse to steady himself. I understand your pain, but your consciousness will not overtake mine. Michael stood straight and took in a deep, prolonged breath.

  “It never gets any easier, does it?” Raphael asked with a furrowed brow. He stood beside Michael, who returned a steely gaze out of the corner of his eyes. “The energy of the soul working inside you boosts your mental and physical capabilities. The change is plainly seen by my eyes. I fear the emotional burden it places on your heart is far greater. That is why the Light of Souls is important—that is why you should not be here now.” You are as close to an unbeatable foe there ever was on the battlefield, yet the power coursing through your blood now makes you even more formidable. Who could possibly go toe-to-toe with a warrior overcome with the power of a soul? Raphael took Michael by the wrist. “Tell me of your conversation wit
h Gabriel…”

  “What he and I spoke of is of little concern to you.” Michael gazed intently at the kicking life inside the lifeless womb. The pushing against the mother’s womb grew weaker. “I’ve tasked Gabriel with something important. I need you remain a figurehead at New Zion and make sure all are on task. The corruption in the Light of Souls needs to be repaired. If you feel you should be busy, perhaps starting there would be a good idea?”

  “We should reactivate the portion of the Light that works and relieve you of this stress.” Raphael walked behind Michael and then stood on the other side. He snapped his fingers, but Michael kept his focus. “This cannot be good for you. Let us help.”

  “The Light of Souls remains off. We mustn’t chance another breach.” Michael held his breath as the baby stopped kicking. He placed a hand over the dead woman’s stomach. The heart beats faintly. “I trust you can relay those commands?”

  “As always.” Raphael bowed.

  “So Gabriel’s left?” Michael asked.

  “He vanished without a word not long after you did,” Raphael quickly replied, as though he wanted to prevent Michael from following up with another question. He didn’t give Michael time for his thoughts to linger on Gabriel’s supposed whereabouts. “No one doubted either of you. We all remain strong.”

  Michael nodded. A blue mist appeared. Inside was a blinding white force. It had no shape or form because it didn’t live past the age of innocence. It was raw, untamed power. A second chance at a life awaits you, my sweet darling. Michael’s hand trembled as it extended for the powerful soul.

  “I’ve never seen an innocent soul outside its host before.” Raphael watched with anticipation. It was widely rumored in Heaven among those who were not reapers that the energy from an innocent soul could shatter aurascales if one weren’t prepared. “I do not wish to possess it, but merely bask in its almighty presence. The rush is exhilarating.”

  “It would seem as much to the uninitiated.” Michael pulled his hand back. The glow of the soul grew dimmer. It will cease to exist if I don’t absorb it. I must be fair.

  Michael grabbed the soul and it merged with him. He crouched, holding his sides. His eyes exploded with blue light and the skin along his cheeks cracked. After a few seconds of immense pain, his body sealed, perfectly healed. His aurascales were radiant.

  “I’ve work to do.” Michael walked past Raphael and phased through the hut wall.

  “As do we all.” Raphael sneered and grinned slyly.

  ***

  “Uriel, you traitor,” Gabriel screamed at the top of his lungs, but his words were inaudible to those outside of his frozen armor. He flexed, trying to break free of the prison made of his aurascales. My brother, why would you do this?

  Uriel and Gabriel were incredibly close. So much so, in fact, that their relationship was often questioned by others. Gabriel had remained steadfast on numerous occasions of the type of affections he held for his first lieutenant. The rules of Father’s law were clear. His feelings had never manifested into anything other than a close brotherly bond, outwardly at least. The same couldn’t be said for Gabriel’s heart. He kept his emotions close to the vest. There could be something there, but any inclination otherwise would be pure speculation to outsiders. If Uriel wasn’t the culprit of Gabriel’s predicament, then the real perpetrator had used a well-placed guess to trick both messengers into falling for the trap.

  “Maybe it was Michael,” Gabriel reluctantly admitted. The pieces of the puzzle sure fit that theory. “No one knows me better than him.”

  A burning sensation surged through his bones. His aurascales once again moved, but this time they were forcibly withdrawn from his body. One would sooner have their bones ripped from their flesh than unwillingly relinquish their aurascales; nevertheless that was the situation Gabriel found himself in. His skin tore apart down his back and over his arms. The slate-gray cubes which formed his armor seeped into the porous metal floor. He was naked again, bleeding from several gashes. Only a necklace with a broken medallion attached covered any portion of his skin.

  Raphael paced around Gabriel’s head. The two were surrounded on all sides by lower level angels; mostly cherubs who’d recently undergone training to become guardians. They were in the judgment hall, the same place God had proclaimed Lucifer and his legion no longer welcome in Heaven and stripped them of their armor.

  “And so, the story comes together,” Raphael said in almost a proud tone. “The most resolute follower of God’s word is nothing more than a traitorous homosexual.”

  “What? You have it wrong.” Gabriel coughed and rolled to his side. “The truth, I seek it.”

  “Is that why you bonded directly with your aurascales? A ritual long since abandoned in the name of sanity and progress?” Raphael took Gabriel by the face and lifted him up. His aurascales reinforced his strength, enabling him to hold Gabriel without so much as a wince. “Why would one do such a thing? Do you enjoy the way the aurascales dictate to you and drive your compulsions? Did you not remember the anguish required to sever the bond?”

  “I do, which goes to further emphasize my need to remain vigilant.” Gabriel could barely breathe. Raphael’s massive palm was covering his mouth and nose. “My actions were not taken lightly, but to protect against the Deliverance being used against me in the…”

  “That’s exactly what a guilty conscience would do,” Raphael said, cutting Gabriel off. “Indeed, separating yourself from the Deliverance so that we are unable to sever your link with your starstone is smart, but damning given recent events. You weren’t worried the traitor would take advantage of you, but worried we would come to find you were the traitor.”

  The other angels whispered amongst themselves. Gabriel looked panicked. “No. That’s all a lie…”

  “Michael is gone and he charged me with repairing the Light of Souls. I’ve come to find it was your code, Gabriel, which implanted the corrupted file,” Raphael said loudly to overcome the roar of shock amongst the others. “Take a look for yourself.” The room went dark and several hard light constructs moved into place, forming a monitor. The energy from Gabriel’s starstone was like a fingerprint, unmistakably used to override the code in the Light of Souls, locking it in place not long before the second revolt. “The evidence is damning.”

  No. I don’t believe it. Gabriel trembled. Raphael threw him to the floor, ripping the necklace away in the process. “There must be an explanation.”

  The others booed him, encouraging Raphael to continue with his inquisition.

  “A code was hardwired into the Light of Souls. The promised have been siphoned since the beginning. We were all played!” Raphael roared with confidence. He walked about the group, slapping their shoulders and patting their backs, getting them riled up. “I see no other course of action than to lock you away like the first morning star.”

  “You can’t…” Gabriel spluttered.

  Raphael spoke over the Herald of God. “If you knew there was a fiend in our midst, you’d do the same.”

  Michael, you set me up. Gabriel fell onto all fours and raked his fingers across the ground. He quietly spoke to himself, “Why? I don’t understand it. What advantage do you gain?”

  “Speak up, for we cannot hear you,” one of the other angels called out.

  “Where is Uriel?” Raphael asked. “He stands accused as well.”

  Gabriel knitted his eyebrows and slowly turned his focus toward Raphael. “He’s not among you?” he asked quietly. A light went off in his head. “Uriel is innocent. He took no part in my misdeeds.”

  “Even still, you show concern for him.” A sword took form in Raphael’s hand. He held the point of the blade to Gabriel’s neck. “Give me not cause to end your life. Deliver your help mate.”

  Gabriel’s chin jutted out and he sat straight and rigid. He stared through Raphael. There was a confidence about him. It wasn’t resignation to fate. He had to know something. He took Raphael’s blade by the hand and placed it a
gainst his own flesh.

  “You’ve hated me because my faith has never broken. You must feel I’ve yet to be tested, but Father lays strife on my heart every day.” Gabriel stood up, still holding the blade firmly against his neck. His hands bled. Raphael was shocked by the outburst.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, panic in his gaze.

  “You are playing them, Raphael.” Gabriel narrowed his eyes. “Your mistake was leaving me no other option than to believe Michael has betrayed me. As I said before, my faith is unbreakable.”

  “We were played, Gabriel, not you!” Raphael shouted. His right arm shook as he held the sword in place. “We’re wise to your game.”

  “What game? Have I not admitted guilt?” Gabriel smiled. He slapped the blade away from his body and wrapped an arm around Raphael’s head to speak only where the two of them could hear. “I know what you are. Just tell me why.”

  “Because it was all a lie.” A dagger manifested in Raphael’s other hand. He stuck it into Gabriel’s side and twisted. “And you were the strongest believer.”

  He pulled the weapon from Gabriel’s flesh and attempted to drive it into him once again. The others restrained Raphael as Gabriel stumbled back and hit the floor.

  “Death to him before he starts the third rebellion!” Raphael screamed.

  An angel in unmarked aurascales approached Gabriel and helped him to his feet, moving him toward an exit. When the others noticed, they chased after them. The anonymous angel activated an emergency lockdown for the judgment hall and energy fields blocked off any route by which they could be followed by Raphael and his men. The duo made it to the end of the corridor. Gabriel couldn’t take another step. The gash in his side had already begun changing color and the bleeding was constant.

  “I’m afraid I know not your name in order to thank you.” Gabriel labored to speak. He pressed his hand against the gash, soaking it with crimson. “Raphael’s trademark strike.”

 

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