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The Seraphim didn't move.
Not because they were intimidated—Seraphim-class angels were notoriously allergic to the concept of fear—but because they were calculating. Measuring. Running impossible probabilities through celestial logic.
Hellfire wasn't supposed to exist inside a being born of Heaven.
Ashael wasn't supposed to exist at all.
The nearest Seraphim leveled his spear again, but Kael blurred between them, landing hard enough to crack the asphalt beneath his feet. His wings flared wide, shielding Asha in a wall of black feathers and lethal grace.
"Stand down," Kael warned.
His voice wasn't loud—but it thrummed with something Asha had never heard from him before.
Authority.
Old authority.
The Seraphim reacted, wings flexing in agitation, their universal telepathic link crackling between them. They whispered in a language only higher angels knew.
Kael's jaw tightened.
Asha stepped beside him, fire still simmering under her skin. "What are they saying?"
"That you're unstable."
"Rude."
"And that the order stands. Kill on sight."
She clicked her tongue. "Even after the pretty fireworks I just did? Tough crowd."
Kael didn't smile. Not even a flicker.
The first Seraphim lunged.
Kael pushed Asha back. "Move!"
A spear of condensed light shot toward her. She ducked behind a steel pillar jutting from the ruined street as the beam sliced through the air, vaporizing the ground where she'd been standing.
Another Seraphim dove from above, spear angled for Kael's spine.
Asha didn't think—she reacted.
She threw her dagger.
The infernal blade spun through the air, slicing across the angel's cheek. It wasn't a killing blow—Seraphim didn't die easily—but it was enough to knock him off trajectory.
Kael took the opening, launching upward with a brutal kick that sent the angel crashing into a half-collapsed billboard.
"Asha!" Kael shouted without looking back. "Your fire—keep it under control!"
"How?!" she yelled, dodging another blast. "There's no instruction manual!"
"Try not dying!"
"Kael, that is terrible advice!"
A Seraphim landed in front of her, spear glowing hot enough to warp the air. "You burn with unholy power," he declared. "Your death is required."
Asha gritted her teeth. "God, you sound like Miguel's voicemail."
She swung her fist.
Hellfire cracked across her knuckles, slamming into the Seraphim's chest. The impact sent him skidding backward across the concrete, armor sparking.
Asha blinked at her hand.
"Okay," she murmured, "that felt illegal."
Kael touched down beside her, panting slightly—a rare, borderline scandalous sight. "Asha… your Seal—"
"I know."
"It's not stabilizing."
"I know."
"You're going to explode."
"KAEL, TRUST ME, I KNOW."
He grabbed her shoulders. "Then we leave. Now. Before you—"
A thunderous BOOM cut him off.
All three Seraphim suddenly froze mid-strike.
Their wings folded. Their spears lowered.
Their heads turned toward the sky in eerie synchronization, as if hearing a command no one else could hear.
Asha's flames flickered.
Kael's wings twitched.
Then—
Without a word, all three Seraphim shot upward into the clouds, vanishing in streaks of silver light.
Silence swallowed the ruined street.
Asha let her fire die down, breath shaky. "What… just happened?"
Kael scanned the sky, expression grim. "A higher command overrode their orders."
"Higher than Miguel?"
"No." Kael shook his head. "Only Miguel can command Seraphim directly."
Asha frowned. "Then who—"
A presence hit the city.
Not visually.
Not physically.
But spiritually—like the air itself bowed.
Asha staggered.
Kael went stone still.
Something vast was descending.
Not Miguel.
Not a Seraphim.
Something older.
Heavier.
Stronger.
Kael swore under his breath—an angelic curse so old it made Asha's skin prickle.
"Asha…" he whispered. "We need shelter. Now."
She swallowed. "Kael… what is it?"
He didn't answer.
Because the sky split open.
A single figure descended—slow, inevitable, radiant with a golden aura so intense the city's shadows evaporated.
Wings like burning dawn.
Armor like molten sunlight.
A presence that crushed the air from her lungs.
Asha's knees buckled.
Kael dropped to one knee beside her—not in obedience, but in raw instinctive reaction to the overwhelming spiritual pressure.
And Asha knew—deep, ancient, instinctive—that this was no soldier.
No mere angel.
It was a Dominion.
One of the oldest.
One of the highest.
One of the angels who had been present the day she was born.
The Dominion landed lightly, as though gravity itself obeyed him.
"Ashael," he said, voice ringing like a flawless bell. "Daughter of Light and Darkness. Vessel of the Seals. You will come with me."
Asha's pulse stopped.
Her fire went silent.
Her lungs forgot how to function.
Kael lurched forward, nearly collapsing as he tried to stand between her and the Dominion. "You will not touch her."
The Dominion didn't even look at him.
"Stand aside, Construct."
The way he said it made Kael flinch like he'd been slapped.
Asha stepped forward despite the crushing pressure, chin held high. "Who are you?"
The Dominion's eyes—bright, burning, impossibly ancient—focused fully on her.
"I am Azazel."
Asha's breath caught.
Kael choked. "Impossible…"
Azazel spread his wings, each feather shimmering with celestial fire.
"I come on behalf of the Throne," he said calmly. "The time has come, Ashael."
His gaze sharpened—
"—for you to fulfill your purpose."