Raphael braced himself, his divine energy building into a fierce corona around him. The sea of Malignants tightened their circle, their chittering rising to a fever pitch. But before he could launch his first strike, a voice cut through the alien noise from above.
"My instructions were to observe for Malignant presence. Not to engage."
Raphael looked up. Gabriel was descending from the starry blackness of the Martian sky, her four magnificent wings beating slowly. She landed lightly on the red sand before him, still dressed in the elegant suit from her meeting with Cain, a stark contrast to the nightmare surrounding them.
"What if I informed you an Aspect is present here?" she continued, her violet eyes locking onto his. "Would you be equipped to face it alone?"
Raphael's wings and the swords of light flickered and vanished. He bowed his head deeply. "I apologize, Archangel. I allowed my judgment to be clouded. Seeing the body of our brother… the rage I felt was overwhelming."
Gabriel watched him bow, this powerful, ancient warrior brought low by grief and shame. A strange, unfamiliar sensation tugged at her. She felt the weight of his existence, his loyalty, his life, as a direct responsibility. It was a burdensome, anchoring feeling.
So this, she thought, is what Michael feels every moment.
"Raise your head, Raphael," she ordered, her voice softer.
Raphael slowly straightened. When he saw Gabriel's hand lift toward his face, he instinctively flinched. It was a reflex born of long service under Archangel Michael, where such gestures were often precursors to reprimand or worse.
But Gabriel's hand did not strike. It came to rest gently on the top of his head. She gave his hair a few soft, patting strokes, offering a small, warm smile. "Return to Earth. Scan for any Malignant incursions that may have slipped through unnoticed. I will manage the situation here."
Raphael's eyes widened. "Archangel, with respect, I should remain. The numbers are significant. I can assist you."
"You will be of more use ensuring Earth is secured," Gabriel said, her tone leaving no room for debate. "I will be perfectly safe. Go."
Raphael opened his mouth to protest again, but Gabriel made a gentle, sweeping motion with her other hand.
He vanished. One moment he was on Mars, the next, he was gone, transported back to the blue and green marble of Earth by her will alone.
Gabriel let out a quiet sigh, the sound lost in the thin atmosphere. She turned her full attention back to the monstrous horde. They had not moved. They were waiting. Watching. Controlled.
"How long do you intend to cower behind these parasites?" she called out, her voice clear and carrying across the dead plain. "Or are you merely a coward?"
In response, the center of the Malignant swarm began to churn. A pool of absolute blackness, darker than the space between stars, welled up from the sand. From this void, a figure rose.
It was an Aspect. Its form was a shifting mass of pure malice, a humanoid shape only suggested by the arrangement of its limbs. In one clawed hand, it held the ragged, half-consumed corpse of another Watcher angel. As Gabriel watched, it brought the remains to a wide, jagged maw that split its torso open, tearing off a chunk of flesh and celestial essence with a wet, crunching sound.
It paused its feast, sensing her gaze. Its head, a smooth oval with no discernible features save for the eating mouth below, seemed to orient toward her. A wave of pure, predatory hunger washed over Gabriel. It was thinking how delightful it would be to devour her, to consume the greater power her six wings promised.
"You can perceive me," the Aspect stated. Its voice was like grinding stones and tearing metal. It shoved the last of the Watcher into its maw, which sealed shut, leaving its surface smooth and blank once more. "You are not like the others I have consumed. You appear… more flavorful."
"You look repulsive," Gabriel replied flatly.
The Aspect's body shuddered. From its back, two fleshy, ragged growths pushed through, unfolding into wings. But these were not wings of light or feather. They were dead things, leathery and veined, the color of old bruises. The Aspect's presence swelled, its power saturating the air, but Gabriel remained unmoved, her expression one of bored disdain.
"Your name?" the Aspect rasped. Its head rotated in a full, impossible circle on its neck, bones cracking audibly. "I prefer to know the name of my sustenance before consumption."
Around them, the thousands of Malignants began to drool. Thick, acidic saliva dripped from their countless maws, sizzling holes into the Martian soil. Their hunger was a palpable force.
"Gabriel," she said, the name resonating with celestial authority. It was not the name she used with Cain. It was her true name, her title. "I am the Archangel Gabriel."
"I am Pttyefruv," the Aspect hissed, the name itself sounding like a disease. "The Aspect of Abomination."
As if the name were a command, the silent Malignants erupted. They roared in unison, a cacophony of shrieks, and surged forward as one monstrous tide, leaping from the ground in every direction to swarm over Gabriel.
Pttyefruv's featureless face seemed to stretch into a wide, grotesque grin as the creatures closed in, their maws gaping inches from their target.
They froze.
Every single Malignant hung motionless in the air, suspended in their final, ravenous leap, a horrifying sculpture surrounding Gabriel.
Her eyes ignited with a cold, violet light.
Fwip.
There was no explosion, no flash. Every one of the thousands of frozen Malignants simply imploded. Their bodies were crushed by an invisible, omnidirectional force into wet, pulpy paste. Acidic black blood and viscera erupted outward, drenching the red sands in a vast, sizzling lake of gore.
Disgusting, Gabriel thought.
She hovered upward, levitating cleanly above the newly made slaughterhouse. She looked down at Pttyefruv, a confident, mocking grin on her lips.
The Aspect returned the grin, its version far more sinister. It twitched a single, clawed finger.
From the center of the massive pool of Malignant blood, a gargantuan hand shot forth. It was not made of flesh, but of solidified void and screaming shadows, moving with impossible speed. It closed around Gabriel's hovering form before she could react, its fingers curling to crush her into paste.
But as the giant fist clenched, her form shimmered and dissolved like a mirage.
Fwip.
From a new vantage point fifty meters away, Gabriel appeared, slowly clapping her hands. "Impressive speed," she called out, her tone light.
That bypassed my precognition. Her mind was already analyzing. Is this why the Aspects are considered such a—
Her thoughts shattered. Pttyefruv was already in front of her. It had not moved. It had simply been there. Its arm elongated, stretching like taffy, the sharpened tip of its finger aimed directly for her eye.
Gabriel's eyes widened in genuine surprise. The attack was a fraction of a millimeter from piercing her pupil.
Fwip.
She was not there.
She reappeared several hundred meters across the plain, her heart hammering with a rhythm she hadn't felt in eons. That was—what the—?
Before the shock could settle, she looked down.
The vast pool of Malignant blood was gone. In its place, directly beneath her feet, was a perfect circle of pure, hungry void. And from its depths, a colossal maw, large enough to swallow a building, erupted upward, its rings of jagged teeth closing around the space she occupied.