Belisarius arrived where the city had already begun to die.
Fire rolled through the streets like a living thing. Stone cracked beneath heat, towers collapsed into clouds of ash, and screams were swallowed by the roar of destruction.
Angels cut through the smoke in disciplined formations, wings slicing the air as light clashed violently against darkness. Below them, human soldiers fought with what little strength remained, their faith the only thing keeping them on their feet.
At the center of the devastation stood the source.
Belisarius stopped.
The world narrowed.
"Nero…?"
The name fell from his lips before he realized he had spoken.
The figure turned.
It resembled Nero only in outline. Horns spiraled from his skull, his skin darkened and fractured, veins glowing with a hellish crimson light. His eyes were pits of burning malice, and the air around him pulsed—heavy, poisonous.
Nero raised one hand.
The earth answered.
The ground split open with a scream of stone. Cracks tore through streets and plazas, widening into abyssal wounds. From the depths below, something moved.
Hands clawed up first.
Then heads.
Then bodies.
Demons poured out of the broken earth in waves—twisted, bleeding things stitched together from shadow and flesh. Some crawled, some slithered, some burst forth fully formed, howling as they tasted the air of the living world.
Blood followed them.
Angels descended immediately.
Light collided with darkness as wings beat violently through smoke and ash. Blades of fire met claws and fangs. Feathers burned. Demonic ichor splashed across marble streets, sizzling where it fell.
Human soldiers charged alongside them.
Men screamed prayers as they fought, steel shaking in their hands as they drove spears into demon flesh. Blood soaked the ground—human, angelic, and far worse. The battlefield became a slaughterhouse of faith and desperation.
Michael stepped in front of Belisarius.
"This presence," he said, voice steady but grave, "is no longer human."
Belisarius drew his sword.
"But it was," he replied. "And I will not turn away."
Nero laughed.
The sound warped the air, echoing with layered voices that did not belong to one throat.
"So the emperor remembers me," Nero said.
"I wondered if your faith had rotted as much as this city."
Michael moved first.
Flames gathered in his hand—not wild fire, but holy fire, dense and radiant. A sword formed, its blade burning white-hot, forcing the darkness to recoil.
Demons lunged.
Michael cleaved through them in arcs of light, each strike erasing their forms in bursts of ash. Angels followed, colliding with demonic ranks in violent midair clashes. Wings tore. Light shattered. Steel rang against claws and bone.
Belisarius dropped to one knee.
He pressed his sword to the cracked stone and whispered a prayer taught only to those who carried the empire's burden.
Faith flowed.
Light ran along the blade, steady and unyielding.
He rose and charged.
Nero met them head-on.
Belisarius's sword carved through demonic flesh; Michael's blade burned through shadow. Nero staggered, then laughed again as wounds sealed themselves with corrupted energy.
"You cannot kill what has already been reborn," Nero snarled.
Power surged.
Raguel was crying.
He did not remember when it had started.
The blindfold pressed painfully against his eyes. His wings throbbed with a deep, tearing ache, and dried blood stiffened the feathers along his back. Cold stone pressed into his knees.
He tried to move.
Pain answered.
"Father…?" he whispered, his voice small in the empty chamber.
No light came.
No warmth.
Only silence.
"I want to go back," Raguel sobbed, curling in on himself.
"Raguel!"
Lucius ran.
Flames scorched his face as debris fell around him. The streets he knew were unrecognizable—broken, burning, wrong. He stumbled, scraped his palms raw, forced himself up again.
Don't stop.
"Raguel!"
The palace gates stood shattered. Lucius slipped inside, down hidden stairs, into the catacombs where the air smelled of dust and ancient stone.
His chest burned.
Then—
"Lu…cius…?"
The voice was faint.
Lucius froze.
"Raguel!"
He followed the sound and found him.
Bound. Broken. Wings torn.
Two masked guards turned toward him.
Lucius's heart thundered.
Mother…
He remembered her voice, soft but firm, brushing his hair back before sleep.
Your faith is not loud, Lucius. It listens.
He clasped his hands.
The prayer came out trembling.
Light erupted.
It filled the chamber in a blinding surge. The guards collapsed instantly, their bodies striking stone with dull thuds.
Lucius ran.
He freed Raguel, lifted him despite the pain in his arms, and placed him on his back.
"I won't leave you," Lucius whispered. "I promise."
They climbed.
The upper garden was gone.
In its place stood ruin.
Lucius stopped.
Belisarius and Michael fought a monster at the city's heart.
Nero roared—and changed.
His body tore apart and reformed, growing vast and monstrous. Six draconic heads rose into the smoke-filled sky, each screaming in a different voice.
Lucius screamed.
"Father!"
Belisarius saw them.
For a heartbeat, the world stilled.
Michael followed his gaze.
Nero raised his arms.
Forbidden words shattered reality.
The world corrupted.
Stone twisted. Light decayed. Everything touched by the power began to rot into demonic form.
Michael turned to the battlefield.
His voice thundered.
"ANGELS! SOLDIERS OF MAN!"
All eyes turned to him.
"ACCESS FAITH!"
Everyone's system got a notification from Michael , except Lucius and Raguel
Light surged from him in waves.
"BETTER STONE THAN DAMNATION. BETTER STILLNESS THAN CORRUPTION!"
One by one, angels and humans answered.
Faith ignited.
Bodies froze—mid-battle, mid-prayer—turning to stone before the corruption could claim them.
Nero screamed.
Belisarius stepped forward.
"It is better to lose my body than my soul," he said calmly. "Our souls will live forever beside our Father."
Belisarius and Michael looked at eachother and nodded
The most high angel , Michael , said "If we both use it we could save the kids "
Belisarius responded "Do not think too much friend , our faith is unshakeable , these kids will lead nations and bring true faith again in this damned world"
Both of them shouted " True faith : Gates of protection "
Golden gates descended from the sky.
The gates opened and inside there was nothing but void.
Michael seized Lucius and Raguel with light and threw them into the gates.
Lucius screamed , for few seconds he saw his father smiling " My faith is in you too , my son " said Belisarius
Space folded.
Time stopped.
Lucius felt weightless. Cold. Still.
Mother… Father…
The world vanished.
Darkness consumed everything.
In a chamber beyond time, two children slept.
Frozen.
Waiting.