The residential streets of the metropolis lay deserted under the veil of night. Street lamps flickered faintly, throwing long shadows over the cracked pavement. An eleven-year-old boy with tangled dreadlocks walked alone, his small hands shoved into his pockets, his steps echoing in the silence. His name was Fogad.
"Damn it… what am I even doing out here?" he muttered to himself, glancing nervously around. A dog barked in the distance and toppled over a trash can, making him flinch. "This place is creepy… and all for their stupid drinks…"
His thoughts drifted back to what had driven him outside. Music pounded through the small home, shaking the walls. His mother and sister, both drunk, danced clumsily on the table, bottles in hand. Fogad sat glumly in a corner, scowling at the noise.
"Hey, Fogad, my son!" his mother slurred happily. "Be happy! Life is beeeeautiful!"
"Come on, Fogad!" his sister chimed in between hiccups. "Don't be such a bore. Come dance! Drink with us!"
He grimaced and looked away, unimpressed.
Then his mother noticed the empty bottles on the floor. Her expression darkened with mock seriousness. She staggered toward him and placed both hands dramatically on his shoulders.
"Fogad… my son. I have a special mission for you… of the utmost importance."
He raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh."
"You must… go fetch us beer!" she announced, breaking into laughter.
"What?!" Fogad exploded. "Are you insane?!"
"You're our only hope," his sister intoned gravely, trying not to giggle.
"Yes," his mother added, pressing a hand to her chest with feigned solemnity. "Don't forget, my son… the angels are with you."
Fogad rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right."
"'The angels are with you,' huh?" Fogad muttered bitterly as he trudged down the street. "More like a lousy excuse to send me out for beer in the middle of the night."
Suddenly, an explosion shattered the night. A building down the block erupted, hurling debris across the street. Fogad froze, heart pounding.
"What the hell was that?!"
He crept forward toward the wreckage. Out of the smoke and rubble, a man staggered—bloodied, battered, but still standing. Fogad gasped.
"Mister… are you alright?"
The man was Robert. But before Fogad could move closer, three bolts of lightning split the sky.
Robert's eyes widened. He shoved the boy hard. "Get back!"
Fogad stumbled and fell, just as Robert unfurled his wings and launched into the air.
Fogad blinked in shock. "An… angel."
Above, Robert clashed with three figures who had emerged from the storm—Katrem, Kor, and Klar, the Dark Archangels of Thunder. Their lightning weapons crackled against Robert's blade, the fight fierce and merciless.
A heavy strike threw Robert against the ruins. The coffer slipped from his grasp and skidded across the ground, stopping right at Fogad's feet.
Robert's voice roared inside his head. Damn it! Out loud he shouted, "Boy! Open the coffer!"
Katrem's sharp gaze caught the sight of the fallen box. "Kor! Bring me that coffer!"
Kor descended like lightning, heading straight for the boy. Fogad froze, trembling.
"Open it!" Robert shouted again.
"Leave that box, kid," Kor hissed, his presence looming.
"OPEN IT!" Robert roared, his voice like thunder itself.
Heart hammering, Fogad fumbled with the latch and flung the coffer open.
A blinding surge of energy burst forth. Kor barely had time to scream before he was consumed, his body disintegrating in an instant.
Robert's lips curled into a grim smile. Katrem and Klar froze in horror, A phenomenal energy emanates from the box and disintegrates Kor in a second. Robert seized the chance. His aura flared, and he unleashed the Devastating Halo. A column of divine energy engulfed the remaining two Dark Archangels. In a flash, they were gone—burned to nothing.
Breathing hard, Robert descended back to the ground. Fogad stared, wide-eyed, as the angel's radiant wings shimmered… and then began to fade.
"Your… your wings," Fogad whispered. "What's happening to them?"
Robert stood beside him and managed a reassuring smile. "It's alright, boy. You're safe now. And more importantly, that coffer didn't fall into their hands."
Fogad frowned, barely listening. "You… you're an angel, aren't you?"
Robert tilted his head, intrigued. "Yes. I am Robert, Archangel of Battle."
"And those men… who were they?"
Robert studied him carefully. Strange… he doesn't seem surprised to see an angel. Aloud he asked, "Tell me, boy… why are you not afraid? Most humans would be in shock."
Fogad smiled faintly. "I saw an angel once… when I was younger. The memory's hazy, but I remember the wings. My mother saw him too. So I knew you were real."
Robert was taken aback. Surprising…
"And what happened to your wings?" Fogad pressed, grimacing.
"Nothing at all," Robert replied with a smile.
"But… I just saw them vanish!"
"They haven't vanished," Robert said gently. "You simply can't see them anymore."
Fogad's confusion deepened. "Why not?"
"Because…" Robert's gaze darkened. "You've become an angel yourself."
Fogad's breath caught. "What? No… that's impossible!"
"The coffer you opened," Robert said gravely, "contained the power of an angel. The power of the Legendary Angel."
Fogad's eyes widened. "The Legendary Angel… Those men wanted to steal it from you, didn't they?"
Robert chuckled faintly at the phrase those men. "Yes. Those so-called 'men' were Katrem, Kor, and Klar—the three Dark Archangels of Thunder."
Fogad swallowed, dazed by the weight of what he was hearing.
Robert sat down heavily on the edge of the curb, gesturing for the boy to join him. "Sit. I'll tell you everything."