《Angels Have Transparent Wings》The Crossroads of Time: Angelina's Path
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Quinn took off down the streets in an instant. A number of Echoes dashed under the sand to follow her tail. Judging by the ripples in the sand, Angelina doubted it’d be too much for Quinn to handle. She breathed a sigh of relief. That was one thing taken care of.
The wind was picking up speed. Thankfully, each of her four wings could be controlled independently. At times like these, such abilities were invaluable, letting her make gentle adjustments to her position as she soared up to get a general view of the surroundings.
Thankfully, the dust obscured her somewhat, though she was on high alert for gunfire nonetheless. Down below, it seemed the whirlpool of sand was subsiding, and the ground was returning to normal. Good. Though Grace and Faith were still trapped by the Demon’s Echoes, they seemed to be in good shape overall. If only they could be freed... wait. Angelina scanned the rest of the ground as quickly as she could. Besides Melody and the Demon—Ollie?—there were a few major Echoes and a few humans. No other Demons were present. That was a start, then.
Angelina knew to always start with the Demons.
Tucking in her wings, she descended into a fast stoop, gliding effortlessly between the makeshift fortifications and heading straight towards Ollie. The Demon was evidently startled by her sudden burst of speed; he barely got out of the way in time, and one of the four two-pronged blades just managed to graze his cheek before Melody got in and protected him.
Melody protected him.
Seeing the honeybee-Imago standing between herself and the Demon filled Angelina with... frustration. It felt wrong. Wrong in the most visceral sense, tugging at something deep and primal within her long-dormant memory. The overwhelming sensation nearly made her lose her balance. “How can you live with yourself?” she muttered.
“How can you?”
Angelina hadn’t expected a response from the traitor. But it only made her feel more sick. Though her blades were drawn, she still hesitated, unsure about fighting... how could she fight another Angel like this? A true enemy?
Melody seemed to have no such qualms. She darted forward, slashing with her single serrated sword.
It was easy to catch the blade in her own. Almost too easy, though Angelina remained wary of the venom hidden within the weapon. “What do you mean, how can I? You are a traitor to our kind. A traitor to humanity. You can’t side with—”
Melody responded with a vicious thrust. “I can’t?” Her blade scraped against Angelina’s own with such force that the chitinous edge cracked under the pressure. Angelina barely managed to catch the tip of the thrust before it reached her thorax. Melody continued to press in, uncomfortable pressure building in Angelina’s two-pronged blades. “What... what would you understand?”
“What would I—”
“What would you understand?” Melody shouted, forcing the serrated sword forward again. Angelina’s blades cracked and shattered, leaving jagged edges where the blades had been cut off. She rolled out of the way, seeing Melody’s sword rip through the air where her chest had been moments ago.
Angelina backed off, catching her breath. “How can you choose to go against your own people? Against humanity—”
“What has humanity ever done for me?” Melody pressed forward with a flurry of strikes. “What are you doing? Viciously killing Demons. But not just Demons, right? These humans, too? These people? And even one of your own?”
“You’re not one of us anymore.” Angelina kept her distance, backing off to stay out of the range of the blade. She wasn’t. She wasn’t. Perhaps if she told herself that enough, she could purge those thoughts from her mind. “You’re one of them.”
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“A Demon? I’d rather be a Demon than an Angel.”
“Not a Demon,” said Angelina, gesturing to the Echoes scattered around in the sand. “A corpse.” And with a sudden surge of her wings, she swooped in, her jagged blades flashing before her. She put out everything she saw in Melody. The warm yellow fuzz and black carapace were gone, replaced by the charcoal black and molten steel of the Echoes. Like the Echoes, she’d turned her back on the future. She’d chosen selfishness. She would pay the price. She would return to the earth.
Angelina did not hold back. She tore through limb and ligament, claw and carapace, imagining molten ichor spilling out with each blow. It made her feel better than seeing the visceral hemolymph oozing out of every severed stump. The wings, too, were easy to tear, membrane shredding like tissue paper against the jagged blades.
Within moments, Melody was tumbling from the sky, dismembered body falling down into the sand. To his credit, the Demon hurried to catch her. A foolish mistake. Angelina tucked her wings again and swooped, knowing with certainty that no meddling traitors would get in the way of her attack. The Demon ducked to the side, but that was all she needed, right? A momentary break in concentration.
Enough to loose the other Angels from the Echoes under his control.
There was a scuffle in the sand. The air was thick with dust. Visibility was almost zero. Angelina heard footsteps from behind her. Grace. Faith. Their weapons were drawn, ready for the inevitable battle. These precious moments before the dust settled were crucial. “Grace,” Angelina whispered. “Drink my blood.”
“I don’t know about that...”
“What are you worried about?”
“If I drink someone’s... I’m going to lose control again. I’ll become a monst—”
“Grace.” Angelina placed a hand on the Angel’s shoulder. “You are not a monster. You don’t need to be afraid of losing yourself.”
“But I—”
“Remember what you’re here for. Remember who you are,” Angelina continued. “Do not let yourself be consumed by any emotion. Rather, be pure. As long as your intentions are pure, your mind will be clear.” She held out her hand, the carapace peeling away to reveal the human flesh beneath. “So drink. For Russula.”
The words seemed to calm Grace. They were words that had calmed Angelina in the past, too. Killing Demons over and over again was never easy on the mind. But embracing your purpose provided a clarity that left no room for primal urges.
“For Russula,” Grace echoed.
The proboscis stung. And it was never a pleasant sensation to share your life force with a bloodsucker. But Angelina looked Grace in the eyes the entire time as she drank, watching the Angel’s Imago light up in crimson as it filled with blood. The proboscis retracted, and Angelina’s hand retreated back into its shelled gauntlet. “I trust you,” said Angelina. “Now let’s kill some Demons.”
Grace nodded.
”And Faith?”
“Yes?”
“You already know what to do.”
“That I do.” Angelina heard the sounds of Faith’s wings buzzing to life, the stinger drawn and ready to attack. Grace, too, levelled her syringe, adjusting to her supercharged abilities. Confident in her two comrades, Angelina prepared herself, tapping into the deep genetic memory of her Imago. She felt her neurons reawakening old connections, her vision clearing, her perception of the world shifting into black and white. Truth and lies made as clear as if they were drawn in the sand.
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“You’re shifting into your Imago,” noted Libellula. “Are you worried?”
“Not at all.” It was time to tap into her full potential. She’d held back against Thea, not knowing what to expect. But this time... “Compared to Thea, this will be a piece of cake.” She felt her body settling into itself, three hundred million years of experience washing over her like a tidal wave. An unbroken chain of life that now wrapped itself around her ankle, connecting her to the power of Gaia. The primal force of life.
The dust settled, and the three Angels were greeted by a very upset Demon. Ollie cradled the dismembered torso of Melody in his arms, settling it down on the sand. His body was trembling. The jovial Demon bore a scowl on his face. But surely he hadn’t actually cared for her? Either way, she wasn’t going to stick around and find out. She raised her broken swords and launched herself forward towards him. Wings carried her forward at blistering speed, the Demon just barely raising his shield in time to deflect her momentum. She swivelled on a dime, coming around for a second sweep, her focus locked on her target—no, her prey.
All around, the battlefield roared to life. The Echoes rushed onto the field, diving through the sand and snapping at Angelina’s toes. The dust filled the air again, the silhouettes of shadowy figures filtering through the haze, figures both human and decidedly not. The Blood Thunder members seemed to be mostly panicking and running for cover, though a few seemed more than willing to join the fray—
Something tore through Angelina’s wing, ripping at the delicate membrane and knocking her flight off-course. She winced through the pain; it was bearable, and she could use her other three wings to adjust for the lack of lift. She scanned the ground for the perpetrator. An Echo? One of those rogue humans’ guns? For a moment, she saw him. A young man holding a handgun, running down the street. But the next moment, he was gone, disappeared between the dust and glare and long shadows of the buildings in the early morning light.
The second hit was more direct. Ollie blocked it again with the shield, but took the full force of the impact, taking a step back before thrusting back with his molten-steel shortsword. It barely missed her arms, a rush of heat radiating off the glowing blade as it passed by. He pushed forward with his shield, knocking Angelina back.
She stumbled, but quickly returned to position, taking the time to analyze her situation. He undeniably had a defensive advantage. The huge shield he carried, though heavy, could block most of her strikes. She certainly didn’t have the reach to get around it. And if she made a mistake, the sword would slice through her carapace easily. She had no real defence to speak of.
“Want to try again?” he taunted. He pressed forward again, shield raised, his sword poking forward from the side.
Angelina stepped back once more. He wasn’t using the Echoes here. It seemed that Grace and Faith were keeping them occupied. Perhaps if she could focus their efforts... but how to get their attention?
Ollie lunged forward, the arc of his slash leaving embers in its wake.
Angelina blocked the slash as best as she could, though the searing metal cut cleanly through her blades. Her counterattack bounced harmlessly off the Demon’s shield.
“Not in a talkative mood?” he asked.
“I don’t play with my prey.” Angelina struck back, circling him over and over again to try and get around his shield. The Demon simply matched her speed, turning impossibly quickly to meet each strike despite the armour’s weight.
“That’s sure what it seems like to me,” he said. “Or don’t you have the way around me?”
“Aren’t you a talkative one,” Angelina mumbled, continuing her assault. Despite her constant attacks, the Demon showed little sign of wearing down, either. And he wasn’t exactly counterattacking much. Of course, it only took a single—
The blade passed a little too close to Angelina’s head for comfort. “I am talkative. You could say that,” he said. “Is it wrong to like a little fun? Is it wrong to enjoy life? To enjoy good food. To fall in love.”
Angelina scoffed. “Love. As if you’d understand a human emotion like that.”
“And why wouldn’t I?”
“Because of what you are.” Angelina lunged again. Angry. She recalled the words she’d said to Quinn just hours ago, before she’d metamorphosed. That a kiss was something human. That love was... “Because love belongs to us.”
“But I love Melody,” said Ollie.
That was silly. “You cannot.”
And the look in his eye changed. For a moment, Angelina wondered if she’d been wrong. If he indeed loved her and cared for her. But only for a moment. Because after that moment, he shattered all doubt.
Ollie surged forward with a raw anger that Angelina had never seen before. His blade flashed hot orange, searing through her blades with ease, scattering cinders in all directions. The broken edges of her daggers burned down to stumps. Even the deflected strikes sent Angelina reeling, waves of heat echoing leaving ripples in the air behind them. The ground rumbled beneath her feet, Echoes approaching rapidly from deep within the earth.
Angelina stepped back just in time. The creature shot up through the asphalt, showering her in dust and sand. It crashed down against the earth, legs lifting up its massive bulk as it began to crawl down the street towards her. It was the size of a large whale, massive and coal-black, its smooth skin dry and cracking, revealing white-hot magma inside. Its head was long and elongated, like a crocodile’s, snapping at her with its massive jaws. The creature filled the whole street, crashing forward and rapidly bearing down on her. Angelina raised her blades to brace herself, but it seemed unlikely they’d be able to withstand the massive force of the impact.
The impact never came, though. Instead, she heard the buzz of wings. Faith carried her into the air, and the monstrous creature rumbled by just beneath Angelina’s feet. As it passed, her toes were singed by the heat streaming off its body. After it passed, she set Angelina back down on the path and stood beside her, her own sword drawn and levelled. Angelina couldn’t help but notice the blade was dripping blood. Demons and Echoes didn’t bleed.
“You...”
“They knew what they signed up for.” Faith’s voice was hollow. But it was her that Angelina had to thank that the Blood Thunder members were ‘out of commission’. And thankful she was, since the onslaught was still far from over. How much worse would it have been if she’d had to navigate a storm of bullets on top of this.
The Echoes breached one by one, smaller whales bursting out of the ground with leaping strikes. Their white-hot jaws glowed as they broke the surface of the earth, little fireballs cartwheeling down the street. Behind them, Ollie was walking, flanked by two of the larger Echoes. He pointed his sword at the Angels. The Echoes understood. The air grew heavy with the sound of thundering footsteps.
“I’ll handle them. Go for the Demon,” said Faith, already running forward to face the Echoes head-on.
“But...” Could she do it? She’d been so.. so frustratingly ineffective, despite everything. Her blades were worn down to the bases. “Maybe I—”
“Don’t,” said Libellula. “You’re using too much of your active mind,” said Libellula.
He was right. Her Imago was only as effective when her mind was in sync with it. She was trying to pilot it like a mech, trying to approach it from an overly human perspective. She’d fallen away from her preparation. But in an instant, she found herself disappearing back into the body’s consciousness, the world washing out again into black and white. The sand, the dust, the earth and sky, all bleached away to void. All that stood before her was her prey. The Demon’s body glowed black, it exuded darkness. It was wrong. It needed to be gone.
“Okay Faith.” Angelina nodded. Trusting in her ally, she ran straight into the fray. Though from time to time, she felt the jaws of the Echoes nearly close around an arm or leg, each time the creatures were dispatched just in time by Faith’s expert sword work. In no time at all, she reached the Demon, leaping onto him with enough force to pin him to the ground.
He snarled. “Get off of me.” Though he struggled, he simply lacked the physical prowess to overpower the Imago. Angelina’s hold stayed firm. Why was he still fighting so hard?
“Just hold still,” said Angelina. She’d said this dozens of times before. The Demons often listened. If they were going to die, they would resign themselves to their fate. But this one...
Ollie bit her hand. Of course, the teeth did little against the black-and-gold carapace. They may have left a dent, but even so it would be barely perceptible. He continued to struggle against her from beneath, trying to kick or claw or do anything to knock her off him. She wouldn’t allow that, of course.
“Stop. Why keep fighting?”
“For her.” His answer was immediate. “Because I love her.”
“Stop. Lying.” Angelina.
“Aw, is that too much for you to bear? The thought that we’re living, breathing, conscious creatures just like you? That we can love—”
“Stop.” That was enough. She held the jagged stump of a blade against the Demon’s neck, felt him squirm beneath her as he struggled to draw breaths. The blade was kissing his skin. With every breath, hairline cuts appeared in the surprisingly delicate flesh.
“Go on then,” he said, cackling. “Kill me. But don’t kill her.” Footsteps from far off. A young woman in yellow was racing off across the sand. Melody. Melody? When had Melody regenerated? Regardless, she was running now, and quickly at that. But where to? Was she doubling back towards Sanctuary 1? Why? Grace and Faith, noticing the movement, hurried down the path after her.
Angelina, too, immediately swerved to get on her tail, but a number of Echoes breached the sand, blocking the way. By the time the Echoes crashed back down into the earth and the cloud of dust had settled, Melody and her pursuers were nowhere to be seen.
Perhaps that was for the best.
Ollie shook his head, smiling. “We’re not done here, either.” The Echoes continued to breach, tunnelling beneath the ground and threatening to burst out from under Angelina’s feet.
“No. We’re done.”
She pressed the blade down with all her might. The Demon’s head lopped off cleanly and rolled down the street. The rumbling subsided. It was over.
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