Prologue 

The wrecks were obscured by nothing but iridescent ashes and smoke. Sweat dripped from their gore-splattered faces, stinging their eyes like tiny vipers. Chaos and violence reigned supreme.

Their parched tongues and panting lips collected the dust-choked air, which tasted of bitter iron. Blood pounded deafeningly inside their skulls like a ferocious beast.

A substantial amount of throbbing aching was coming from the terrifying heart that hung between fractured ribs, almost drowning out the pain from a dozen cuts. The sound was barely audible over the shouts, cries, and tremendous clash of steel.

A sea of blood-soaked liquid pulled from friends and foes alike, drowned a once peaceful village in the heavens, rising above the eerie perfume of fear borne aloft by piling corpses. Friends and foes alike had descended upon the once peaceful village in the heavens, united in an unforeseen war that would decide their future.

Despite tens of Angels swarming around him, an armoured figure stood among them, holding his ground against them. He remained calm and composed throughout the battle as if the war were not important to him. Even though he wore blood-stained ornaments and held no weapon, not a single cut was visible on his silvery breastplate.

Their tactic of separating him from his comrades was low, unbefitting of the declared divine and saintly Angel they utilized. The war itself had been one-sided from the outset, with only a hundred against thousands. In the end, they had to do what was necessary to prevent harm to their lives and regain their virtue.

Although death was a great fear for him, it was far from being the only one. It was as if the Angels that surrounded him did not know what to do. His presence alone had the power to crush their armament. The mask obscured his eyes, which shone bright red as if a laser had cleaved them off with a laser shaft and melted their will to live.

"There is nowhere to escape!" As the Angels swallowed their saliva, they charged towards the enemy and met their horrific demise.

The first Angel engaged in combat with the lone enemy and drew a sword. He flew straight at the enemy, aiming for his chest, but his enemy easily dodged the attack and grabbed hold of his neck. The second Angel came with a spear and planned to use the same attack again. He flew around to stab him from a new angle.

"Die!"

[Sshhluck!]

The spear's sharp tip promptly pierced living flesh, but disbelief came to his lips upon realizing he had stabbed a friend who had been made into a disposable shield. A moment after dealing with the first Angel, the enemy grabbed the fallen sword and cut off the spear Angel's head.

Two more bodies slumped to the ground in an instant. If two-on-one could not overcome the challenge, then five-on-one surely could. As if in agreement, five more Angels nodded and began their synchronized attack. An axe, two swords, and a spear were aimed at his head.

If everything was added up correctly, were they not missing one weapon? The Angels looked around and trembled in rage. More than one ally had been taken down by a spear that split their chest. The spear had killed more than two Angels in the past minute.

The remaining Angels remained calm, however. Nothing could shake their commitment to the God they served. The Angel slashed down upon his enemy with his axe.

[Boom!]

Because of this, the enemy made a back dash. The ground where he stood just moments before was now in ruins. When his opponent attempted to block the attack with the sword he held, the sword broke in two. It was unintentional that the opponent dashed into an Angel that held a spear in line with his heart.

"I got you now!"

After his focus was misaligned, the enemy was able to escape with only a scratch on his breastplate. Before impact, his legs had twisted on the ground, affecting the aimed spear. From his current position, the sinner peered into Angel's eyes.

The Angel dared not move. Eventually, he understood his fate, and his whole body shook in despair. Should he glance back, his mind would disappear into the abyss of his opponent's stare.

[Crack!]

The Angel's skull shattered as his face merged with the ground. He had been standing still just moments before, but now he saw the world flip before everything went black. The arm that committed the face plant held tremendous power.

Brutality and ruthlessness made two Angels, each wielding blades, retreat. How ironic that there should be an Angel who is neither brave nor loyal.

The remaining Angel stood alone to fight. Without thinking, he closed in as close as possible to his opponent. He paid no heed to the enemy's attempts to widen the distance. Already restoring his buried axe, he swung it as fast as he could straight at the enemy. At point-blank range, the axe stopped as it hit.

[Cling!]

The blade was halted with a single hand.

Impossible! We are the protectors who you cry out to when the evil force comes. We are the guardians of heaven who will seek the heroes they need to bring change where change is required. We are pragmatism, mercy, and the power of love. We are the Angels who kick ass and take names.

In the end, the Angel fell to his knees and prayed to God on behalf of the suffering. The truth is born into this world only in pain and suffering, and someone will receive every new truth unwillingly. The Angel fell to his knees, surrounded by the monstrous being and looked up to God, praying fervently for an end to the pain and suffering.

Even though the prayer was vague, God approved. Before his eyes, he saw his axe slide into view. Switching roles, the axe slammed to the ground, as it was meant to do. Split open like a banana, his blood spilt everywhere and flowed downhill.

Blood smeared the landscape, tinting it red. From one body to the next, a pool of blood formed. The supposedly beautiful land needs a remap to match its current state. As the blood gathered in the small space, it soon flowed aggressively and rapidly into Malique's crotch slit.

An Angel caught up in the messed-up war, with dislocated wings, clothed in turmoil. Fortunately, he did not receive any mortal wounds. However, his mind may have been damaged.

In every direction his eyes could see, wreckage and corpses blinded his vision. How is it that the bad guys overcome? Is it because of their resolve? Or are they the black sheep? According to a reality curated by God.

Malique's heart ached with anger as he bore witness to everything and was powerless in the face of a helpless comrade.

Why did this happen? Why did you do this? Aren't you God's most loyal follower? Answer me, Lucifer!

Indeed, Lucifer was the Demon who massacred the Angels. He was a Demon turned savage. We know that a war with the leader of the Demons will always end this way.

It did not matter that Lucifer wore full armour or that the fog appeared to hide him; Malique recognized him instantly. With that unique armour, no one else has the same feature. He burned his image into his memory, never forgetting who he was.

Just wait, Lucifer! God's punishment will come to you!

[Cough!]

Malique's vision blurred every time he breathed. The mere thought of passing out, or worse, dying, terrified him as a crimson liquid escaped from his stained saliva. Stay awake, Malique. You need to see this till the end.

Malique tried to force himself up, but the damage he sustained weighed him down. Without realizing it, his body lost balance from the rubble on which he rested and slumped to the ground. As a result, his head banged against the ground, knocking him unconscious.

As Malique drifted into the pitch-black darkness of his unconsciousness, he heard something or rather someone calling for him. The voice was soothing, like a mother's love reaching into his heart.

"Your story does not end here, my little Angel."

This familiar voice, this pure intonation. The words, 'my little Angel,' it was God's.

"Now you know who is talking directly to you. Arise, Malique. Open those eyes of yours."

His eyes were forced open, and he stared at the Angels who watched him as he healed. The words had reverberated throughout his body, coursing along his skin and reviving him.

Tragic memories flooded Malique's mind as he writhed in pain. When he regained his breath, other Angels rushed to his side to calm him down. Malique grabbed his head tightly and choked the Angel who was calming him.

"Where am I!? What is this place!? What happened!?"

"Calm down, my friend, we'll explain everything to you in detail, all right?" The Angel gently touched Malique's arm until he stopped thrashing and nodded understandingly. "Rest easy, Malique. We won."

The expression on Malique's face changed. It was not happiness or relief he felt. Instead, confusion or delusion seemed to be all his mind could conjure.

"We won!?"