7 06 - The Rift

Chapter 06 - The Rift

Written By Dr Armstrong

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The Choir.

As an Angel, Alexander naturally knew what that word meant when spoken by one of his kind.

The Choir was a kind of inter-connected network of minds that every Angel could tap into by the use of their Halo, a veritable Heavenly Hivemind some would say.

Now a Halo wasn't at all a part of an Angel's body, but instead, a holy instrument utilized by Heaven's forces as a means of instant communication.

It's a glorified phone, basically. And the Choir was just an even more confusing internet.

Alexander, being less than a day old and born in a battlefield, naturally hadn't managed to acquire a Halo, much less being able to actively tap into the Choir.

But just because he himself couldn't actively join the Hivemind, didn't mean that the other Angels couldn't do it for him.

This was what had apparently happened earlier, with all those messed-up voices screaming in his head and such. The other Angels had witnessed the flashbang he had created and were rightfully impressed.

That kind of explained why he had heard multiple words being spoken simultaneously...

The Choir had linked his mind into itself and declared him a 'Saint', an exceptionally rare type of Angel born from a Trueborn that had managed to correctly assimilate a Noble Soul whilst in the egg without contracting any spiritual deformaties.

This was apparently rather difficult to do as most Noble Souls, even though they were good hearted, would still have some minute amount of evil that could prove to be extremely dangerous to the infant

Essentially, he was deemed to be the same type of Angel as Sareth's reincarnated mother in the Novel.

Well, now that he had the contextual knowledge of an Angel, the Seraphim Isabel seem to have actually been a Trueborn Angel that had fused with Queen Isabel, and not the Queen herself, which explained the lack of memories.

Although, why exactly did the Choir thought of him as a Saint? Well, he had naturally atrracted the attention of the other Angels after creating that huge burts of Mana, something that should have been impossible for any other newborn.

And of course, they then linked him into the Choir, which allowed for his surface thoughts to be conveyed through the mental network.

The Choir wasn't an actual Hivemind in the sense that all of the minds involved became one, instead, it was more like a really complicated web of telepathy that allowed its users to talk directly with their minds.

So his memories of having a previous mortal life was still safely private, but his surface thoughts had been conveyed through the Choir.

And the Angels had safely concluded his thought process to be unusually...human.

Alexander was an Angel with the heart and mind of a Human, which apparently was one of the tell tale signs of being a Saint.

This had made the Choir severly confused as there had been no records of recent attempts at creating a Saint, at least, in this Heaven. So Alexander was like a veritable John Doe that came out from nowhere in their eyes.

Regardless, he was still a Saint. So the Choir decided on simply asking later and assigned a few Principalities to escort him out from the dangerous battlefield.

Which then naturally led to the current moment, as retold by one of the Triad after Alexander had asked him what the fuck was going on.

'Huh, that's...a lot to take in.' Alexander muttered with his internal monologue.

He wasn't a Saint, the System would probably classify that as a Talent or Skill if he were.

Besides, he hadn't been all that Noble in life, no way his Soul would be pure enough to create a perfect Saint...

The Angels would most likely figure this out in the future, but for the current moment, it was best that he stayed quiet and simply let them come into their own conlusions.

'Hey, why are you blaming me? You guys were the ones who said I was a Saint, how would I know I wasn't one!?'

That's what he would say if they found out. And, there would be no true lies in his words if he chose them carefully.

Alexander flapped his wings as he followed the Guardian Triad. He didn't need to so, but as someone who used to birdwatch all the time, it felt a bit off not too.

Despite the fast-paced actions he had taken, Alexander had yet to truly adapt to this new life...it still felt strange knowing that he was no longer human.

But, hey, there must still be some parts of his humanity intact, right? The older Angels even confused him for a Saint because of it!

The knowledge on moving and flying was instinctual, it didn't feel any different than when he walked in his previous life. At least, it should be.

And it was, it was the same, down to the last sensation.

But it was still weird for Alexander, really, really weird. It didn't feel like he was controlling his own body, but some kind of puppet or a robotic avatar.

...Perhaps that was just his way of coping, and it sure as hell might be working...

It felt off, as if he wasn't him, but someone wearing his face...er, well, in this scenario, thst metaphor didn't really make sense.

It's like he was another person entirely that just so happened to share the memories and personality of Alexander Byzantine...

It was weird.

'Luckilly, I don't think I'm a clone...' No, he was the original Alexander through and through, the System had called him by his name, after all.

If he was truly like a Saint, perhaps a more advanced form that also somehow inherited the memories and not just the personality, then surely the System wold call him Amon, right?

But no, he was still Alexander, the original Alexander...

Again, maybe all this nonsense was just a messed up coping mechanism, or maybe it was just the after effect of reincarnation...

Huh, wait, if Alexander's soul was a Holy Soul, how did the reincarnation process even work?

Roy still had his original Low-level Soul before making it into an Evil Soul later...but as a Trueborn Angel, Alexander should have a Holy Soul right away, no?

So what happened to his original Soul? Did it transform, or got replaced?

Was he actually a Saint?

'No, no...that's probably not right...' Alexander harshly lampooned himself as he rubbed his forehead with a tentacle, glancing at the sky as he did so.

'That guy is still there...' He muttered as the eyes gazing down from the sky refused to move even a singular inch away from its original position.

Eyes, he had described them as, though they resembled a pair of stationary black holes that distorted the very dimension around them much more than actual eyes.

Those eyes...they were probably not the literal eyes of the Demon King, but somekind of magical bullshittery he used to see the battle's progress.

Speaking of Demon King...

"Hey, Zeshua..." The supposed young Saint asked out loud, adressing the Angel to his left.

"I hear you, Saint Amon." Zeshua responded, using the name Alexander had given.

"...Right, may I ask a question?" Alexander asked as he sent another glance toward the colossal eyes.

Zeshua simply nodded at his request and gestured for the young Angel to go on.

"Who is that?" He asked, his own eyes set on the much bigger eyes gazing down from the sky.

"...Someone told me that they belonged to a Demon King, but..." Altair hadn't told him which Demon King.

The identity of who exactly was leading this invasive force could be vital to Alexander's continued survival, as well as to pinpoint his positition in the timeline.

For example, if Alexander himself had been the author, then he would have surely tortured the protagonist by having Osiris be the invader, therefore creating a major plot twist that would surely a hook a bunch of readers.

...But of course, he was praying for that to not be the case.

"Those are the eyes of Morningson, Saint." Zeshua said, pulling his blade to intimidate a Demon that got a tad bit too close.

"Morning...son...?" Alexander didn't recognize the name.

"Son of the Morning, the Demon King who was once a brother." Zeshua revealed, widening Alexander's eyes as he realized who it was.

The Demon King that was once a brother, obviously, Zeshua was talking about a Fallen Angel.

And which Fallen Angel could possibly have such a pompous title as Son of the Morning?

Lucifer Morningstar...

There was no need for an explanation as to why this was bad.

Lucifer was the Sin of Pride, one of the Original Demon Kings, this was an enemy on the level of Samael, if not even more frightening!

But there was no panic in Alexander as he simply nodded at the revelation.

Although such a name would have illicited a strong reaction from your average young Angel, who would think the Morningstar to be the equevalent of Angel Hitler, Alexander wasn't much to bothered.

Well, it should be the same case when a genuine Angel is facing the actual Hitler.

Zeshua and his comrades obviously noticed his distinct lack of surprise but didn't choose to comment as the Angels finally neared their destination.

The sea of tentacles before him was less of a sea and more an overgrown bed of pure black thorns seemingly made of shadow.

In a sense, it kind of reminded him a bit of a certain tentacled God of Wisdom's dimension...

'Huh...do the Daedric Gods exist? Or maybe they're just Demons...' Alexander didn't have much of a chance to entertain that thought as Zeshua faced him and spoke a few words.

"Saint Amon, th—" The older Angel's voice was cut short as the sea of black tendrils suddenly released a low rumble reminiscent of a growling alligator.

However, Zeshua and his comrades didn't seem particularly perturbed by this interruption, opting to take a brief glance at the black sea before immediately continuing.

"The Rift here had been torn open by Father Azrael, you must go through it and reach safety, Saint." Alexander heard, though it was not Zeshua, but one of the other Angels that said it.

The Rift...much like the Choir, the Rift was a piece of information passed down through inherited knowledge, so Alexander knew what it was.

The Rift wasn't as complicated as the Choir, it was merely a kind of space in-between the physical dimensions...basically, the Astral Plane from DnD or the damn Warp from 40K

Well, if that world actually existed, then it was the Warp...which is, uh, pretty scary if you think about it.

'Wait, Azrael...? The Angel of Death!? He was here...?' Alexander showed confusion as he heard the name. If the veritable Grim Reaper was here, surely he would try to take care of the Demon King, right?

"The only reason Lucifer hasn't yet descended to the battlefield is because of him, Saint..." Zeshua explained, earning back Alexander's gaze.

"...I'm afraid you'll have no chance of getting to meet him at this moment..." Zeshua stated with a chuckle, thinking that Alexander had been starstruck by the mention of a True Archangel being near.

Alexander simply nodded, trying to act dissapointed as he gazed back at the tear in the Rift.

"I thought you needed a Riftstone to travel the Rift?" Alexander asked, remembering Altair's explanation regarding the Ash Port and the Riftstones within it.

"That's only the case if you're not an Archangel." Zeshua responded with another chuckle.

"Come, Saint. Let us accompany you..." Zeshua stated, reaching with his armoured hand toward the younger Angel.

Alexander gazed at the hand, only now noticing that the silvery material covering it didn't seem to have actually been armour, but instead, a kind of shell or carapace.

That meagre realization erupted into a larger one as Alexander looked up the Knightly Angel...

Zeshua...Altair...these guys were utterly butt naked!

...Well, not really. Besides the shell that Alexander previously thought to have been armour, these Angels also wore a kind of clerical loincloth much like Daniel the Hound-like Angel had, but...

That's still...pretty much naked, no?

'In their defense, I'm even more naked...' But even as this realization struck the Angel's bald head, he didn't feel even a single tinge of embaressment.

Perhaps the others also being semi-naked helped...or maybe he was just a closet exhibitionist in the making.

It was pretty weird to look at Zeshua's eyes now that he realized that there was probably no face under that helmet...

Scratch that, the helmet itself was his face!

Alexander began to subcounciously formulate an anatomically-based mental picture of what Zeshua and Altair would look like dissected on a surgical table, but attempted to clear his thoughts after realizing the sheer amount of cursed energy that image exuded.

'Are they all like me under that shell...? All wriggly-like and tentacled...? Ugh...' The attempt completely failed.

Alexander hesitantly began to reach out and grab hold of Zeshua's hand, gripping it tightly. The hesitation born of the previous realization regarding the older Angel's anatomy.

The hand didn't feel like metal, but instead, shared the exact same texture that you would find in ivory...don't ask how Alexander personally knew the texture of an elephant's tusk, it's one hell of a long story.

An intense surge of warmth emanated out of Zeshua's hand, bordering on being downright hot. It was the kind of heat shared by those warm towels barbers would give to cover you head with after a hairstyling session, comforting and familliar.

"But before we venture into the Rift, Saint..." Zeshua paused, gesturing to one of the other two Principalities with a nod before continuing.

"It is of utmost importance that you remain safe, so in the scenario that we are seperated..." Zeshua retrived a glowing object from the other Angel before handing it down to Alexander's tendrils.

It was a large ring of glass, big enough to be a bracelet for an elephant. The ring was seemingly made of a type of...glass? A type of glass that looked almost transparent.

Unlike most objects in the universe, the ring didn't reflect light, but seem to instead...absorb it, giving it a kind of ethereal and semi-transparent look.

It was a Halo.

"The Rift can be unpredictable without a Riftstone, if we get seperated, please use this to call out to the nearby Heaven." A Halo wasn't just used to connect an Angel's mind into the Choir, but also to Heaven itself.

Angels are not as ridiculously numerous as Demons were, losses during battle were not as acceptable, and death by any other means were even more unnacceptable.

By wearing a Halo, Heaven's forces could track the location of all of its Angels, thus reducing the likelihood of an unfavorable death. Just like how all goverments track and spy on those who have phones.

Alexander graciously accepted the Halo without hesitation as he brought it closer with his tendrils.

It radiated not even the most minisculr amount of heat, yet Alexander could feel a strange thrum flowing through its mass as he held it high.

'Wait, how are you supposed to put this on—'

That line of thought completely halted as the ring of glass slowly left his tentacles and proceeded to float on top of his body, rotating slowly.

Alexander silently gazed at the rotating Halo, it didn't feel any different now that he was wearing it. Hell—he actually didn't feel like he was even wearing it in the first place...

But Alexander supposed so as he flew back a bit to test it out, only for the Halo to remain on top of him, seemingly following his every step—or, well...his flap?

Alexander suddenly felt a tugging sensation at the back of his cranium that was shortly followed by several others of the same kind.

He looked at Zeshua and the others before understanding.

The next moment, his mind was linked to a greater whole. A flurry of thoughts not of his own resounding inside his brain.

And then, his link was broken, shattered into a thousand, million pieces of nothing.

"Thank you." He uttered to the Principalities, they had just shared how to tap into the Choir and some additional wisdom regarding the Rift, instantly implanting the information into his mind.

"Let's go, Amon." Alexander nodded at this statement as the pair slowly descended to the writhing tentacles, followed shortly by the other two Angels.

"So, how does this—" Alexander stopped as Zeshua was reduced to ashes before his eyes.

He couldn't scream, as he too was burnt to a pile of crisp dust.

Ashes to the wind.