AFTER THE FALL OF THE REBELLIOUS ANGELS
When Zorfis slowly opened his eyes, the haze of pain and confusion clung to his mind. He was no longer in Heaven—at least, not where he remembered. His body ached from wounds that seemed to pulse with the chains that bound him.
Lamia's voice, calm yet edged with relief, broke through the fog. "You're awake. I thought you were dead."
Zorfis struggled to sit up, blinking against the unfamiliar light. "Lamia? Where… where are we?"
"We're in the mortal realm," she answered softly, her gaze scanning the unfamiliar surroundings. "I brought you here—from Hell."
Zorfis frowned. "Hell? What is that?"
Lamia's expression darkened as she spoke. "After the rebellion, when we were defeated, we were cast down here. Hell is the realm of punishment created by the Divine for those who defied Him. We're bound by chains—chains that connect us to Hell itself. Even if we escape its fires, those chains pull us back. They are unbreakable."
He swallowed hard, trying to process the weight of her words. "How long have we been here?"
"Nearly five centuries," she said, her voice distant. "I only woke a hundred years ago, in a realm of torment and fire. I asked others who had already awoken about what happened. We learned that many of us were trapped, chained, and sealed away. Some were locked deeper than others—Lucifer himself is imprisoned in the innermost pit, shackled and sealed."
Zorfis shook his head in disbelief. "Five centuries… And now we're here? On Earth?"
"Yes," Lamia confirmed. "We escaped through portals we forged together. This realm—the one the Divine created after us—is the home of mankind, His newest creation. They bear His image, unlike us fallen angels. But even before mankind was born, some of our brethren had already slipped into this world. Lucifer deceived the first humans—Adam and Eve—tempting them to defy the Divine. Because of their fall, death and suffering entered this world. The Original Sin marked the human race, and with it came a spiritual separation from the Divine—a spiritual death."
Zorfis's gaze darkened. "So the humans are bound by this sin because of us… or because of him."
"Because of all of it," Lamia said softly. "The temptation, the fall, the rebellion. Lucifer's influence spreads through this world, extending his dominion over the broken and the fallen. We—fallen angels—now call ourselves devils to rebel against the Divine's plan, refusing the title of angel."
Zorfis clenched his fists. "Then we have no choice but to stand with him. This is our fate."
"Yes," Lamia said with a determined nod. "We are bound to this rebellion."
PRESENT TIME
Damon's voice echoed with calm authority, the weight of ancient knowledge behind his words. "Do you understand why the Divine requested intervention for the sinners, even though He left them on Earth? It was a test—a trial through chaos and adversity. The original pact allowed the Divine to rapture His faithful first, to reign in heaven for seven years—a thousand years in heaven's time, different from Earth's. Meanwhile, those left behind would face the devils unleashed upon the world, a time of reckoning to prove their repentance and obedience."
He paused, eyes steady. "After those seven years, the Divine would rapture the obedient, leaving the sinners and devils to face the consequences. Then He would release Satan himself, and the ultimate battle of salvation would begin—Divine and angels versus Satan, demons, and sinners. But the denizens of hell broke the pact. They shattered the barrier, destroying the chains that bound them. Chaos erupted on Earth while the Divine's people remained vulnerable."
Lamia nodded solemnly. "A harsh betrayal."
"Because of this, the Divine was forced to rapture His people early, leaving the sinners behind. Yet, the trial still stands—for those who remain, we must help them endure and bring justice. The Divine offered mercy, a place among the faithful for those who would fight alongside His angels in the ultimate battle. But only nine accepted."
Lamia's eyes narrowed. "Two second-ranked demons were absent. Sindel and Syril. They must be among the traitors."
Damon smirked. "You're right. They came on their own accord."
"Well," Lamia said coldly, "it's a shame. They will perish at the hands of the second ranks."
Damon grinned. "I don't want to spoil the fight for you."
Meanwhile, Zorfis stirred, struggling to rise as his wounds slowly healed. Looking up at the sky where Damon and Lamia clashed, he whispered bitterly, "I've lost more than half my spiritual energy—my zail. The heavy attacks I threw drained me, and the effort to heal took even more."
He hesitated. "I want to help Lamia, but I'll only be a burden."
Suddenly, a crackling voice came through a speaker atop a hovering helicopter. "Hey there, demon. Looks like you and your friends were trying to turn us into one of you. Well, that won't happen—not while my army stands."
The battlefield erupted with the thunderous roar of tanks, helicopters, and heavy artillery. Soldiers surrounded Zorfis, their weapons aimed and ready.
Admiral Felicia's voice came sharp through another helicopter's comms. "We've got him surrounded, General."
General Clement smiled grimly. "Perfect. Open fire!"
Explosions tore through the air, shells and bullets raining down in a relentless barrage. Zorfis summoned a shimmering zail shield that absorbed the assault, standing firm against the onslaught. Minutes dragged on, the battlefield swallowed by smoke and silence.
Then, out of the haze, Zorfis surged forward—a force of destruction incarnate. Tanks were crushed beneath his fists, helicopters shredded in midair, jets obliterated in blazing bursts. Soldiers fell, their blood staining the earth, their bodies broken and torn. Limbs severed, faces disfigured, guts spilled—a grotesque testament to the carnage.
Yet, despite the horror, Zorfis was taken aback. These mortals fought on. Though broken and battered, their will refused to falter.
"The indomitable human spirit," he muttered in awe.
With a renewed roar, the soldiers—wounded and weary—rallied together. "This is it!" General Clement bellowed. "We take him back to Hell!
Amidst the desperate charge, Zorfis, drained and weakened, met their onslaught head-on. The battle raged with a fierce, brutal finality. When the dust settled, silence fell over a graveyard of fallen warriors and demons alike.
Zorfis' essence began to disappear. The war was far from over—but the courage of mankind had been etched into the battle, a spark of hope in a darkened world.