In the blink of an eye, Michael thrust his sword forward to impale Luce, but he wasn’t fast enough. Luce dodged to the side, grabbing ahold of his brother’s arm and the hilt of the sword, violently pulling him forward. He threw Michael right off the side of the mountain, not hesitating a moment before jumping off behind him. Michael’s wings expanded, catching himself mid-air, but Luce struck him before he could fly. The force of the collision sent both angels plummeting toward the ground, struggling for control. Michael wielded the sword, trying to pierce Luce with the fiery blade, but Luce’s strength matched his. Rage simmered underneath his skin, pure adrenaline pumping through, mixing with the twinge of blood in his system and fueling him on. He fought with all he had, grabbing and clawing, striking and shoving, trying to get his hands on the Heavenly sword.

The two smacked the ground hard, the earth giving way beneath them. Angels and demons alike, caught in the midst of battle, plummeted into a canyon created from the force of the blow. Water from the Red Sea rushed forth, filling it, the red filth coating them. The flames of the sword extinguished momentarily, reigniting as Michael pulled away from Luce and held it up, a lightning bolt striking it from the sky.

"Give up," Michael spat. "Go to Hell."

A slow smile spread across Luce’s lips. "I’m still there. I just brought it to you."

Michael lunged for him, the two of them plunging underwater, struggling for control again. Luce pulled out his gold knife and thrust it at Michael, slicing at his clothes, but he couldn’t break his skin. Round and round they went, engulfed in a test of will and strength. As soon as one would get the upper hand—the chance to plunge their blade into the other’s chest, to annihilate the life force inside of them—the other would get a burst of strength and overpower them.

Equally matched in skill, equally driven by motivation.

A battle that lasted mere hours the first time—a battle between two brothers, two Archangels: one dark, one light—continued nonstop for days. There was no end in sight, no sign of either letting up, as the bigger battle continued to wage around them. Countless humans were slaughtered, some by demons, others by the angels themselves as they purged the evil spirits from bodies by physical force. Through it all, Luce’s power thrived, every innocent casualty sparking something inside of him, the monster rising up and taking control.

Michael shoved away from Luce eventually, throwing him yards away and into another angel. The angel tried to get his hands on Luce, but he thrust his gold knife into him before he could. A vast explosion went off as Grace erupted from his chest, briefly swaddling Luce like a blanket.

He closed his eyes, savoring the sensation. Oh, how he loved that feeling. . .

"I exorcise thee, O Creature of Water, by Him Who hath created thee. . ."

Luce’s eyes shot open, seeking out Michael instantly. "Holy Water? Really?"

". . .and gathered thee together into one place so that the dry land appeared, that thou uncover all the deceits of the Enemy, and that thou cast out from thee all the impurities. . ."

"It’s not going to work," Luce spat. "In case you haven’t noticed, Prince, your sea is poisoned with blood. It’s water no more."

Michael stopped his blessing. He held his free hand on the surface of the water, a glow emanating from him and spreading through the sea around him. The murky red faded, clearing to a crystal blue.

A bitter laughter tore from Luce’s chest. He narrowed his eyes, anger rushing from him. The sea around him stirred and started bubbling, thickening and boiling as steam rose into the sky. As soon as Michael purified a portion, Luce turned it right back to contaminated sludge.

"You took it all from me," Luce seethed. "So now, I take it all from you. Your land, your sea, your humans . . . your lover."

For the first time in his existence, Michael’s eyes clouded with rage, darkening like dripping ink. Luce stood tall, raising his eyebrows in challenge as he smirked tauntingly.

Game on, motherfucker.

He waited for his brother to attack again, to be overcome with wrath and succumb to the vengeful, overpowering sin, but his eyes lightened again almost immediately.

Before he could say another thing, Michael vanished from sight.

Startled, Luce stared at the empty water in front of him, straining to feel Michael in the atmosphere. It was faint, but he could sense his brother far away, still Earthbound.

Luce immediately followed. As soon as he materialized in front of Michael, Michael vanished again in a crack of electricity. Luce continued to follow, stalking him from place to place, barely getting a view of him before he zapped someplace else. Confusion ran through Luce as he tried to make sense of his brother’s seemingly cowardly act—running from the enemy, avoiding confrontation—when he popped up somewhere that answered it all.

Chorizon.

Serah headed outside into the chilly air, strolling quietly away from the abandoned community center. The dark sky swirled, the red clouds thicker than before, more imposing. It was getting worse, she knew. The world was dying around her, and she could do nothing to stop it.

She stepped into the street, heading for the playground, when a crack of electricity rocked the air behind her.

"Luce—" She turned, cutting off mid-name when her eyes fell upon the glowing sword of fire. "Michael."

He towered above her, his expression hard as he swung the sword in her direction. She instantly backed up a few steps, her heart stalling for a few beats as she stared at the scorching blade.