Chapter 2: Armageddon Era
*Armageddon Era*
The sky was dark, veiled by an unending purple rain that drenched everything in its path. Each drop seemed to carry the weight of curses, and upon touching the ground, it seeped in, devouring the earth and turning the vegetation black and lifeless. Once-majestic buildings now lay in ashes and ruins, victims of this toxic rain. The river had become a reddish liquid vein, carrying lifeless bodies.
The inhabitants, unable to shelter or flee, had perished, their bodies lying in the red mud. Children, elders, warriors—none had been spared by this devastation. The air was heavy, almost unbreathable, saturated with the metallic, nauseating scent of blood. A putrid stench clung to the nostrils, a mix of iron, rotting flesh, and tainted earth. The ambient temperature contrasted strangely with this sanguine tide: the air was icy, as if death itself had decided to cool this world in agony.
...
As far as the eye could see, a sea of blood stretched, gently rippling beneath the cold wind. The horizon was an intense crimson, an infernal red that seemed to devour the daylight. Above this scene of carnage, a celestial army stood in formation: billions of angels with their wings majestically spread, each feather immaculately white, forming a tapestry of light. But the purity of these beings contrasted with the horror surrounding them. Even the most powerful among them seemed hesitant in the face of the grotesque scene below.
At the head of this army stood Uriel, the archangel of judgment, his posture imposing. Beside him were Tzakiel and Morael. Raphael stood slightly back, his long blue hair flowing in the breeze. Ezekiel, ever calm and thoughtful, remained vigilant, while Celest scanned the horizon with silent gravity.
Beside Uriel stood Luciel MorningStar, heiress to the Elysian throne, a resplendent beauty. Her long golden hair shimmered under the dim light of this ravaged world, gracefully falling over her shoulders and harmonizing with the light, silver armor she wore. Every curve of her face was divine perfection, but it was the golden flame symbol on her forehead and the subtle beauty mark on her left cheek that made her unique, adding to her charm.
Her golden eyes, sharp as a hawk’s, fixed on the gigantic red orb floating in the distance. A malevolent aura emanated from this organic egg, its black veins pulsing slowly like a beating heart, projecting an energy so foul it could drive one mad.
Luciel gripped the hilt of her sword tightly, ready to draw at any moment. The man inside was her enemy, the greatest murderer this world had known, and above all... her lover.